Recent content by Nath'iarra

The journey to Alliria had been troubled, to say the least. Heat and light, hunger and thirst, to say nothing of the Naga and the other dangerous lurking in the Ixchel Wilds and wherever else they had had to traverse to get to the city, had plagued Lady Nath'iarra. She had stolen enough fine...

The Nordenfiir's impulses were entirely correct. After all, wasn't every part of Lady Nath'iarra worth treasuring, top to toes? She had certainly been persuaded, over the course of Valgir's presence in her retinue, that it was so. She shifted, allowing herself to recline further, reaching back...

"Barely broke the skin?" Nath'iarra mumbled dubiously. She had seen the way his feet dragged on the road after that fight, the way his brow beaded with sweat -- and not the kind of good sweat that was earned by pushing boundaries or sweet exertions. This was a body's defense against an underhand...

As if a person could sleep with a Nordenfiir thundering up and down the stairs like a man possessed. She sat upright at the first sound, wondering what in the nine hells Valgir was doing. Did he say he was taking a bath? she wondered, and a moment later the question was answered when he came up...

Nathi'arra became vaguely aware of what was happening, not fully awakening but becoming cognizant of movement, pressure, warmth. "Don'," she mumbled, shifting -- well, trying to shift, but without being able to find purchase there. A sigh. By the time Valgir had carried her to the top of the...

"There are three beds," Lady Nath'iarra said conversationally. "You must choose whichever you would find the most comfortable. I intend to be in the one in the room to the left at the top of the stairs." There. No pressure, one way or another. Only the slight compulsion that he do what suited...

The Drow's lips twitched downwards at the edges at the way Valgir's face distorted. She swallowed and half-turned, setting her jaw before turning back to him, her features fully under control. Nath'iarra handed him the jar and a spoon before she settled in the chair adjacent to his position. It...

Nath'iarra wandered after Valgir into the little drawing room -- that's what it felt like, or the closest thing she could think of -- but did not sit down. "Keep an eye on it, Valgir," said Nath'iarra. There was softness in her voice, but also steel. She wasn't making a request. "If it starts to...

Crimson eyes watched as the Nordenfiir man left in search of a cellar. She wanted to be sure that the place was empty before she slaked her first, so she continued a survey of the house. A creaking wooden staircase led to a small second story, where a pair of bedrooms flanked a small central...

"Looks it," the Drow responded, her crimson eyes looking for signs. And then her fever-addled companion hurled himself at the problem like he would have hurled himself at danger. Endearing, perhaps, but also slightly deleterious to the purpose. If, for instance, the door he had just bashed to...

Nath'iarra was not used to such a tone from Valgir, and the sharp look she gave him had more to do with his physical condition than with his tone. If it were up to her, then they could start digging their graves now. She had lost everything in the underrealm -- the land, the money, the...

As the taste of magic subsided, as the overwhelming power ebbed and receded from her, Nath'iarra felt a sudden chill. It should have been a boon, a comfort in this ghastly humid hellscape, but no. This felt like the effects of a fever. As long as she could remember, magic withdrawals had...

Nath'iarra had magic. Of course she had magic. Imagine, Lady Nath'iarra, not having magic. I bet you can't do it, can't even imagine such a world. Nor can I, really. Magic and Nath'iarra are like chocolate and peanut butter. Good by themselves. Better together. But she had perfectly...

Nath'iarra might have laughed. Of course there would be some hideous little beastie trying to make a meal of them. Why wouldn't there be? When everything else had gone so badly wrong of late? She watched as her sworn soldier hurled an axe at the nearest Naga came slithering uncannily out of the...

It did. Not the most serene of countenances in the best of times, the Lady Nath'iarra looked perturbed. That was a nice word, a fancy word, a word that -- if uttered in her presence and in this context to describe her -- might earn only a hand being removed and not the head. She was not of the...