Private Tales Illuminations of the Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
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Gazing up from the floor that he had been looking upon, Trevan met her gaze with a practiced demure. He allowed himself a smile as he gazed upon her, the most unusual of drow mistresses.

"I will endeavor to prove myself, mistress. For now, all that is required of you is to relax in what luxury I can currently provide for you. I must go and make further preparations. Is there a time you would like me to return by so that I may check in on you?" He asks, knowing how it would feel to be essentially locked up, even if the room was posh.

"Also, is there anything you require? I can return with whatever you may need."
 

Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She looks around at the accommodations... Once they leave here, this might be the last of any luxury she sees in a long time. She will enjoy and indulge herself as much as she can while she has the chance. She looks back at him, a soft, warm smile playing on her lips, her voice, warm with a touch of that sultry tone, "I will need something to eat and drink. You may join me if you so desire. As much as your company is mostly pleasing..." She smirks playfully at him, she isn't meaning to insult him, she is actually making a bit of a joke given her recent frustrations! Yet another thing that stands out about her. She then continues, "You know what tasks you need to do. Considering that, I suggest you do not take up too much time. If you have to come back and check on me too many times it will slow you down, and draw suspicion. Take the time you need, stop by here when it is convenient for you with food and drink. You can take a break with me if you so wish. I will rest and freshen up."

She then pauses, and just looks at him. He's never seen an openly, completely tender look from a Mistress... Until now... She says softly, "So far you have done everything you said you would, and we are still alive with a chance to make our way out. You are doing well, Trevan, darling. In spite of how upset I was a moment ago... You have pleased this Mistress. Do survive. I look forward to your return." She said 'this Mistress' instead of 'your Mistress'. He knows that she needs people to actually join her, and he knows that she would like him to... But she is being true to her word, waiting for him to decide. If there was ever a Mistress that deserved to be served and followed... If he could ever do such a thing... But only if.
 
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Trevan bows deeply and replies with a simple "As you wish." He straightens and regards Zel with a smile. "I will return with supper and I will make myself available to dine with you, mistress."

He then steps back and opens the large bone-made door that led back into the hall. He pauses there at the doorway, looking back at her for a moment, looking as if he was considering something. Finally, he spoke again "We will survive this, we've both staked our lives on it. I will not fail you, for it would be failing myself. I do hope you can find some comfort in that. But I also wish to say this: You are a worthy mistress, and when we make it to the surface, I will serve you in finding a new life." And with that, he steps out, closing the door behind him.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She watches him go, eyes lingering. After he closes the door and is out of sight, she blinks a moment, then sits on a luxurious ornate looking sofa. She ponders his words. Maybe she is having the desired effect on him? What he said was certainly encouraging, and she hopes to build on that. She rests there for a bit, and she realizes something that will be important going forward, something she will have to account for with anyone she deals with, both now with Trevan, and for the future. She wants her underlings to be loyal, and if she helps them be fulfilled, get what they want out of life, preferably by serving her, then she should be able to have the loyalty she requires, at least most of the time. She decides to ask Trevan that very thing when they have dinner... What does he want out of life? She hopes she can help him get it as he serves her.

She looks around at the amenities, everything posh and significantly ornate. She decides to freshen up, to take her version of a bath. She would rather have someone bathe her, she used to have servants do that, and they seemed to enjoy it, her very light, soft, comfy, fluffy self both easy and comforting to handle. Would Trevan want to do that for her? She pondered that, but she would not force anything on him, even care that she needed. Without someone to help her, she could wash up, get nice and freshly clean, but she couldn't get in the bath. As light as she is, she could only get on the water, being extremely buoyant. But getting up off the water was more the issue. She couldn't push her legs down into the water to stand up, so she'd be stuck there. It was always a relaxing thing for her to float until she felt like getting out, and have one of her slaves get her and take care of her. Perhaps someday she could have that kind of care again. But since she had been exiled she did not have the opportunity for that. She pondered. She did have her levitation ability, she could use that to get off the water. She would have to rest before using it again, but it would allow her to enjoy the luxury and the bath for now. Generally she tried to avoid using magic unless absolutely necessary, to avoid fatigue and to be ready in case her life was in danger. But this was probably her last opportunity for a long time to float and relax on the water.

So she took a nice long bath, and then floated until she felt her skin getting a bit wrinkled from the exposure to the water. She then sighed, and concentrated on her magic, and levitated off the water. She did so near a wall so she could pull herself along the wall until she was clear of the bath. Then, she figured that she might as well take advantage of not having to stand for a while, so she remained aloft and dried herself off. She washed her scant clothing and hung it up to dry. For now, she was unclothed. This was typical of Matrons and Mistresses to wear as little as possible. It was often a public statement of power to do so, as it meant the drowess in question felt so powerful, that she did not need armor or anything else to protect herself. She had her underlings, her influence, and her own abilities, magic and otherwise to keep threats at bay. In Mistress' case, it was that, and a matter of practicality. She was simply too weak to carry much, and so wearing as little as possible was one of the most practical ways for her to avoid fatigue and keep herself as combat mobile as possible, which was key for her dexterity based combat style and to keep her fresh enough to use her magic if need be.

At the moment practicality was the issue... She needed her clothing to dry. She was not concerned with what Trevan would think, this was common, and as little as she had worn all this time, it wasn't like there was much left to the imagination. So she waited, reclining on one of the luxurious sofas, relaxing and studying the architecture of the place. Typical of drow structures, elegant, ornate, pleasing... One would never think that such beauty and grace in the architecture would belong to a society as bent on treachery and bloodshed as the drow. How she longed for a better legacy for herself. She reflected on Trevan's words again. She hoped she could make her dreams for the future, and his, come true.
 
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There were many things that were on Trevan's typical daily routine, but the only one that was really important so late in his day was to check in with his own soldiers, as was his custom each day. So he did, stepping into the small barracks that house Soithiel kept. He greeted a few of his men who were there, transitioning their own shifts for guard duty. After that brief check-in, Trevan left, pleased he did not notice anything off or was questioned about his -captive-.

Next he moved through the hallways of the manor and came to a small room, peeking inside. The guest room was empty. He frowns, but moves on, heading now down to the cells that they kept in their basement. There were some cells that were used simply to hold captives, but there were others that were used for extracting information. The torture chambers. Trevan's eyes lingered on the clawed stone and dark stains. He would not miss this place.

Finally he arrives at the door that was at the far end of the hall. Already the smell would assail his nostrils. The sickly sweet smell of decay began to override the smell of feces and sweat.

This task was going to be a gruesome one, but one he must do himself, for he could not risk letting anyone else in on the plan. So he opened the door and stepped in, then set to work.

~~~

Trevan pushed the large bone-made door open, sliding in and then closing it behind himself. He stood silently for a long moment, transfixed on the floor as his mind was clearly elsewhere. Blood stained his armor, a little smudge was on his face, though he likely didn't realize it. Then, he looks up, and sees Mistress Zelyndra relaxed upon the sofa. She had certainly taken full advantage of the room, having freshened up. He saw that her clothing was hung to dry, and he saw her nude form posed casually in comfort. He bows to her, as custom dictates, and then steps over to stand near. "I trust you are finding comfort, mistress?" He would ask, then he would say "I was going to bring supper but decided I best clean up first... after which, I can fetch us something to eat, if you are okay with waiting just a bit longer?" Trevan was a noble man, and was entirely familiar with how to conduct one's eyes around a mistress who lounged naked. He didn't shy away from her form, but he also didn't stare. A delicate balance. Beauty was a thing one did not allow too much indulgence, unless instructed to. So he stood, waiting her reply. A grim expression on his face matched the grim splattering of blood that stained his nice uniform.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She looks at him, a gentle warm amusement, and obviously pleased to see him return. As he gets closer and she sees the blood on his armor and the smell her nose wrinkles a bit playfully, but also seriously. Her voice reflects the gentle, warm amusement, "Yes, I am quite comfortable, the accommodations are suitable, and far better I'm sure than we will have for a long time after we leave, so I have taken liberty to enjoy them while I can. Trevan darling, I don't know what you've been up to, but I know whatever it was, had to have been necessary. While your efforts are most appreciated, I think you have been in that place for so long that you have grown accustomed to the smell." She giggles a bit, "Darling, you smell most dreadful. Yes, do clean up, and proceed with your plans to get us some food. I am still comfortable waiting."

She smirks playfully, her voice the same, though she is being honest, "Besides do I have a choice?" Then she grows more serious, in a gentle, warm way, "I'm sure we will have situations to face along the way, and as much as I desire and in many ways need comfort and care, I know that we will both have to be in some discomfort from time to time. I do appreciate you checking on me though. Do understand that your well being is important to me as well. If you need something, do tell me, if I can help, I will."

Then she smirks and her voice gets a bit playful and slightly emphasizes her natural sultry tone, "And Trevan darling, I am not bothered if you wish to look at me. I look at you too, you know." She is quite possibly the most pleasant Mistress he has ever been around. Even in these less than favorable circumstances, she is not taking out any of the unpleasantness of it out on him. Instead, she seems to actually be interested in his well being through it all as well!
 
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A small smile creases Trevan's lips, a smile that was familiar to those who knew Trevan the closest, which was usually his subordinates within the guard. His gray eyes seemed to shine with a bright knowledge as he took a moment to search Zel's form, then spoke "You are a beautiful mistress, to be certain." He then bows as he dismisses himself to go and clean up, which he does so unabashedly. The fine plate armor is pieced apart with practiced expertise, and the padding underneath stripped off in a methodical manner. Washing was quick, efficient and wasting no time. The mannerisms of a soldier evident in how Trevan conducted his business.

Naked, he stepped over to his large armoire and began selecting fine silks.

"I could possibly have some clothing made up for you, before we depart..." he remarks, offhandedly as he continues to search for what he wants to wear.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She just smiles warmly and with a hint of desire, appreciating his recognition and appreciation of her beauty. The set up of the expansive, luxurious bedroom includes a sitting area, with the luxurious sofas and such, one of which she pretty much takes up the whole space of as she reclines on it, an alcove for bathing and washing on one side, and then a balcony on the other. She watches him, not moving from her reclined position on the sofa. It's obvious she thinks him very appealing, yet there is something about the look in her eyes. He is not just a piece of meat for her pleasure. If so, she would have tried to demand of him, or force him to please her. No, she still makes no moves to engage anything, she just lets him know that she appreciates his form very much.

At the mention of him having clothes made up for her, she 'snrks', but it's not an insulting sound. Rather it's a very pleasant, warmly amused sound. Her naturally arrogant pleasant voice reflects that sentiment very well, "Trevan darling, do you fancy yourself to be a tailor?" She just beams at him, thoroughly enjoying his company. Imagine that, a drowess that actually enjoys having a male around, at least partly for the company? It certainly seems to be the impression. She then calms some and continues, her voice laced with a bit of warmth and her natural pleasant sultry tone, "My attire is suitable, I'll just wait for it to dry. That's about as much as I care to wear anyway."

He may recall her wearing the cloak, that it barely covered her, and perhaps was more restricted than she would prefer, but also she did seem to move a bit slower. Was it just the restriction? Or something else? Fortunately the relaxed pace they went to avoid suspicion helped her keep up enough, and helped her avoid fatigue as well. For now, she doesn't mention her unusual physical attributes, that other than her very large size, have not really been too obvious, especially with the attention on other matters as they made their way to this place, but she will have to discuss them eventually, perhaps they will get to such serious matters when they eat. The idea of wondering if they will get to more pleasurable matters runs through her mind, but there is still much to discuss this evening before considering anything of that sort. She plans to ask him what he wants out of life when they are eating. She hopes that she will be able to help him get it, preferably in a way that serves her, that benefits them both, but even if it only benefits him, well...

She wants willing service and relations, not forced. If her plan to be a true and right proper Mistress is to succeed, she must risk letting him go... She just hopes that accommodations for her well being and survival can be made before that, if it comes to that. Watching him, his form, hearing his pleasant voice and manner, she hopes it doesn't come to that. For many reasons, as a very pleased smile touches the corners of her mouth as she looks at him.
 
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Trevan turns to look at mistress Zel when she makes the comment about him being a tailor, giving her a grin. He then steps into some fine silk pants, and slides his arms into a loose thin robe, both materials a jet-black color. He leaves the robe open, exposing his chest, as he then slides on silk slippers and then walks back over to stand near to mistress Zel. You could never say that Trevan didn't have comfort and style in his wardrobe. The linen items he wore were also stitched with patterns, though they were difficult to see, since the stitching was also jet-black. Were they runes?

"As you wish. I simply thought that you may desire more sets for our future travels. It will certainly be a difficult road ahead of us." He then bows to her lightly.

"I will return shortly with supper. Any requests?"
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She smiles warmly at him, appreciating the style of his attire, and the way the clothes drape around his form. Her voice is soft, gentle, "Your idea is a good one, but unless you have some knowledge of factors I don't, you'd have a very hard time finding something in my size with the mobility of my current outfit. But I don't believe we have the time to custom make something that will last such a trek, especially without drawing unwanted attention. Perhaps once away from the city, if we encounter someone with such wares we can purchase them along the way. We'll just have to stay as near water sources as we can to keep clean. I'm always glad to hear your ideas, Trevan dear, you have already preserved my life, and while some may say that it is proper for you to do so - in fact, I would say so, but I am admittedly biased - you didn't have to. You could have taken advantage of my situation and tried to finish me off. Your efforts to help me do not go unnoticed." She beams at him with much warmth, and although she is the Matron Mistress of all Matron Mistresses, she shows that she values him, perhaps more than a mere tool, and again acknowledges his knowledge and skill, even deferring to it.

Other Mistresses would also think it proper for him to help them, but they would not show any appreciation for his efforts, there would be no encouragement, no importance bestowed upon him. But with her, it's really as if her status, her charisma, who she is, raises his importance. Perhaps not in a way that says he is not important without her, but more that he can realize his importance with her. In a way, that makes her better than the rest. Perhaps her sense of entitlement is not nearly as misplaced as it is with the rest of the females of drow society. Partly because she wants to bestow the favors of her position upon those who serve her.

She looks at him, a soft, pleasant smile, "I think we should have something savory and filling, to give us a good meal before we begin our long journey. It may be the last chance we get to enjoy such luxuries for quite some time." She pauses, then her voice and demeanor soften even more, "Trevan darling, be sure to get things you like. That would please me greatly." She continues to stand out from the rest, she really wants to have him serving her also be worth his time.
 
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