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Sazalam

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The fog rested on the water like a blanket. The still pond, a ways from the border of the Anirian Republic, had been privy to some of the worst of the recent border attacks of their latest bloodthirsty campaign.
Somewhere in his dark and wasted heart he felt admiration for those who took what they wanted while pressing their hand on the worlds throat.

It reminded him of the good old days. When an Orc was an ally for the will of dark gods and the surface dwellers knew which folk to fear.
Alas, current trends of the age he now found himself in saw multiple people's all step in line under laws that promised much but delivered little.

Perhaps there in lay the heart of the issue.

Promise little and deliver little instead seemed far more reasonable to him.

He picked over the dead. Anirians were Human to a one but the Cortosi saw a mixing of elements from all over. A cat-man caught his attention. Lovely fur but they had been killed in such a way as to make the pelt useless, a pity really.

Who had won he could not say. It seemed the Human crusaders were bent on destroying all. Ironic that at one point in history his people had attempted the same but to the Humans.

History did seem to love its little ironies.

A motion caught his eye in the gloom of the fading sun. A shadow that was not a shadow moved and Sazalam moved to intercept.

He was not the only person picking over the dead this evening.
 
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Zathria had been trailing the violence that had been carving its way along the borders for a while now. Taking a small team of her most loyal fighters they had been looking for opportunity and while they hadn't found much by that stretch yet, they had found ways of keeping their expedition funded by looting the dead.

Her scouts had gone ahead to continue trailing the horde and Zathria had remained behind. The soldier's intuition told her that something else was out here in the settling darkness and her eyes flicked around the dim light in search of the source of the sound.

A flash of movement caught her gaze and her bow was drawn, arrow nocked, but bow string still lax in her hands as she looked out to whatever was moving. It wasn't an animal. It didn't move like an animal. The gate was that of a biped from the sound, and she wasn't sure if that made her more or less on guard.

Who goes there? she said, her voice running like ice, simple and direct.

Sazalam
 
"A humble son of the ever dark."

An older greeting when men addressed women of his kind but well enough known.

His approach halted and he opened his cloak to show he had not drawn his sword. Head tilted down slightly, not looking Zathria in the eye, as was proper for his gender's status.

"I came to scavenge what I could from these unfortunate creatures."

A dismissive look to their surroundings followed.

"But I had no idea this salvage was claimed already. If it please you, I will leave you to your prize."

A low bow, perfectly observed punctuated his statement.

Zathria At'Arel
 
Zathria was actually surprised to see another of their people here who weren't part of her own skirmish team. She lowered her bow so it wasn't pointed directly at him at least, though she kept it in her hand for the moment.

I didn't expect to see one of our people up here. What brings you to the surface? she asked. She was never afraid to jump into the questions and began to put away the bow and arrow, still ever-so-aware of her swords should she need them.

And so far from home at that. How long have you been up here? she asked, thinking about opportunity already.

Sazalam
 
"I came to see how these surface world savages conduct themselves. with my own eyes."

Following protocol he kept his sword hand to his chest as he spoke, a sign of no threat and ultimately submissive vulnerability.

"I have been on the surface only a three years and if I may presume upon your interest in my being here a hair more, I find myself I'll impressed with what I have seen so far."

Sazalam allowed himself a small smile as he remembered himself and who he was speaking to.
"But forgive my manners, the surface taints all with its lack of decency. My name is Sazalam and as a Daughter of Darkness I am at your service Mistress."

The way of the Dark-Elf was power and submission, all else was lies and vanity.
He was relieved to fall back into the familiar way of his people.

Zathria At'Arel
 
Zathria was already starting to like him. A male who knew his place and whose memory hadn't been scrubbed by being on the surface.

[colro=violet]I am not new to the surface, though this area is a new venture for me,[/color] she admitted. The time spent in exile on the surface had forced Zathria to adapt to much and she couldn't wait to return to the activities of Zar'ahal. The flow and life of that place was so much more natural to her than the surface. Even the most cutthroat up here were not the same. The cutthroats of the surface lacked discipline and order. Most were just... barbarians.

I am Zathria. Tell me what you know of the area, Sazalam, she said. She wondered what it was that had driven him up here and she didn't discount the possibility that he was a criminal on the run from their people. She couldn't drop her guard, especially not with the rest of her team having gone ahead already. Risks would get her killed, and this place was enemy territory to her mind still.

Sazalam
 
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"I am making a report to the great seats of learning in Zar'ahal about the current political climate of the surface Mistress."

Another smile parted his lips and his black teeth glinted like pearls in the dark light and though he knew her name he had not been given permission to speak it.

"I am to record the war between the Anirian human nation and the Cortosi alliances."

Wind swept his cape and made him appear bulbous for a moment before settling again.

"The Cortosi appear to be losing from what I have seen but it is far from decided yet."

About them the wild things, scavenger species, had already begun to take their own riches of blood and flesh from the dead.

@Zathria