Private Tales Bump In The Night

[Draedamyr]

"I have no home and no people," he replied.

There was a melancholy edge to his voice, but it was also hard.

"I made my own way in a place that does not appreciate my kind. My sword is one of the last heirlooms of my people. That last city fell hundreds of years ago. I doubt any humans even remember its name."

He didn't specify that this was why he would go to such great lengths to keep that blade. Even as he taught his students that good steel was good steel, it was much more than that to him.

 

[Vyx'aria]

Vyx nodded, rubbing her chin, “Mm yes, it was a mighty fine sword. I would have liked to have kept it,” She offered a half grin. As despicable as her people tended to be sometimes, they still looked out for one another in many ways. She still belonged in her wretched world - a puzzle piece that fit in as part of a bigger picture. She couldn’t imagine not having any of that.

She popped the cork off her flask and took another sip. Vyx still had pains from her wound, but it wasn’t as bad as when she had the entire arrow still wedged in. The rain continued on around them, the occasional spray of water making her wince. She scooted further under the rock overhang.

Vyx gazed off at the strange phenomenon of rain. Water dripped here and there inside the caverns, but she never saw anything like this.

“I find you….tolerable, elf,” She grumbled after a while, not even bothering to look at him. He was still a male, and he was still an enemy. She tried to come up with more reasons of why he was so horrible, and she had to actually work hard at it.

A clap of thunder erupted above and she physically jumped up with a yelp, hitting the top of her head on the underside of the boulder, “WHY does that happen? Clearly this is the displeasure of the surface gods!!”

 

[Draedamyr]

Draedamyr visibly bristled at her comment about Reverie. He knew it was said in jest, but there were few possessions left from the old world. The decline of his people was far, far older than his lifetime.

Once they had made great wonders, as has the dwarves. When that time had come to an end, men had started their building of castles across the world.

"I like you a lot more when you are neither trying to stab me or take my favourite things," Draedamyr laughed.

"I have felt tremors that came from deep below the ground, surely you have those?" He asked. "Not as sudden as lightning I suppose. You may want to cover your eyes."

"Do you even know where your routes back underground are?"

 

[Vyx'aria]

Vyx was caught off guard again when he laughed. It was such an odd sound. It wasn’t something she heard often in the Underrealm, and even then it was because of triumph or malice. There was very little true laughter. It was a sound that she committed to her mind and replayed a few times. Such an oddity..

She was pulled back to reality when he asked her a few questions. Vyx furrowed her eyebrows, “Why should I cover my eye-”

That was when lightning erupted and lit up the entire sky. The sudden and brilliant light made her scream. She had been barely adjusting to the sun and the lightning made her clutch her eyes in pain. It temporarily blinded her, tears suddenly streaming down her face. The effects of lightning were horribly dramatic on someone of her kind that hadn’t had too much surface exposure.

“I….I don’t know where anything is,” She admitted as she grabbed at her eyes with her hands, “I just know that this world is less forgiving than the harshest depths of the Underrealm,” She rubbed her eyes furiously, still seeing spots and failing to see clearly, “I don’t know how you survive here. This world here gives nothing and harms you at every corner.”

 

[Draedamyr]

"It's not got dark elves though, so there is that at least," he replied.

The brief amusement at her plight finally settled, leaving him feeling a little sorry for the drow again. The weight of the chain was also a reminder that she could strike him quite easily at any time with or without her sight.

"And I don't know how many times I can say 'the wine helps' to be honest. But the wine definitely helps."

The lightning heralded a renewed rainfall. The sound would have been relaxing had it not also dropped the temperature a few degrees. The rocks overhead were scant cover and definitely didn't hold in the warmth.

 

[Vyx'aria]

Vyx scowled at his comment about dark elves. She couldn’t exactly deny it, either. In some ways, being up here was a relief to be away from her own kin. Random people here gave her a wide berth while other Drow were more likely to stab her in the back. If she ran into others, it meant they were exiles or competing forces that would want her eliminated.

“If you always have to use wine, doesn’t sound like much living,” She grumbled, still blind as a bat from the insufferable lightning that periodically came with surprise. She never could time it right, and she gave up in the end, trusting in her instincts to react if the other elf tried anything.

The frigid cold was getting to her. Contrary to common misconceptions, the Underrealm was far warmer than the surface, being closer to the core of Arethil. Her teeth were chattering and she hugged herself best she could.

“The air feels like needles up here,” She said, her words escaping as a mist between her lips. Vyx unassumingly shifted closer to him, finding a small measure of comfort from the heat of his body. However that didn’t help suppress the unfortunate surface elf smell he carried.

“It appears we are trapped here and will need to wait for this nonsense to pass,” Vyx didn’t even bother opening her eyes now. She began a lecture on proper tactics on staying alert without all senses and how they could fend against any surprise attacks. However, the exhaustion from being on the surface, the sun, the river, the lightning and her injuries completely drained her.

Within moments, she drifted off to sleep, carried by the effects of her own alcoholic concoction. She slumped against the elf, completely oblivious to her actions. She was entirely vulnerable then, the constant scowl on her face finally relaxing. The sound of the rain had snuck up on her with its soothing abilities. It was a rare thing for her to truly sleep, but there it was.

 

[Draedamyr]

He smiled faintly at her scowl. Draedamyr didn't know which part of his mind thought it would be fun to poke the wounded and very dangerous dark elf chained to him by the wrists but it was going to need a speaking to later.

It was cold. It was damp and miserable. This was one of the reasons he preferred the cities. Warm, stone houses and roaring fires. Comfortable beds.

Draedamyr shivered as well. She surprised him by moving closer to share his warmth and he surprised himself for draping and arm across her shoulders.

Wine might not have made his life tolerable, but he didn't like to face up to the reality of his later years. Draedamyr was tired and his best years were long behind him. His children - his legacy - were scattered to the wind.

He listened to her speak, let her voice trail off without challenge. Draedamyr told himself that he could keep watch, but in the storm even the predators of the woods would be taking shelter. He closed his eyes and drifted off as well.

---

"Open your eyes slowly," he said softly. With one hand shielding her brow from the morning sun, Draedamyr waited for her to rise. The sun wasn't even up yet, but the dusky pink sky would be enough to pain her.