Fate - First Reply Up to No Good

[Zathria At'Arel]

It was difficult to find places on the surface for a Drow to fit in. In this case, fit in was a strong word for what Zathria was doing. With hood pulled up over her head and a scarf pulled around most of her face, her features were obscured to the point that making out that she was a Drow under the waning crescent of a moon was remarkably difficult. That was the idea, after all.

Her trip into the underbelly of the city at the edges of the Ixchel wilds was to look for those who were unafraid to cut throats and generally engage in the seedier side of things. Building a warband of raiders and killers wasn't an easy thing and she couldn't believe she was having to stoop to recruiting surfacers - and men at that - to the cause. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

She came to a stop outside of a tavern - the Bustling Maids - and could already hear noisy laughter inside. Outside a man lay in the dirt and she guessed he was too intoxicated to walk although she supposed it was possible he might be dead.

Reaching out and pushing the door open, she surveyed the interior with a discerning gaze before heading to an end of the bar and dropping coin at the counter for a drink.

The scent of pipe smoke hung thick in the air and she stuck far from both torch and hearth as she watched those inside, looking for anyone who looked equally as seedy.

 

[Drawen Asmunder]

Drawen sat at a small table in a corner of the room. His Muck Beetles by his side, he was drinking a big cup of mead. His light armor shined on his body. He had given a coin to one of his beetles and it went up and got him another mead.

He looked at the entering Drow. Clearly if she was someone with her armor and weapons by her side. He got uneasy looking at the polished warrior.

The smoke of the pipes made him tense with wonder what to do, he chose not do make the first move, there wouldn’t be any trouble right, it’s just another Drow.

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria's eyes fell onto another Drow within the tavern, overt and uncaring that he could be identified as one of their people. Were things really so open to Drow here? She would have thought it still prudent to conceal herself, but it did bring an interesting shift in the dynamic. She maintained her own hood for now, watching the man clad in his own armor.

He was a male, yes, but better a male from her people than a male from the surface. Besides, he would be far more familiar with what was going on in the area than she was.

She watched for a few moments more before rising and sliding into a seat next to him.

"You walk openly on the surface? You have been up here long?" she asked.

Drawen Asmunder

 

[Drawen Asmunder]

He looked as the other Drow walked closer. “I have been here since my parents kicked me out, I walk these paths freely because if a elf or anyone tries to harm me I would make sure that they would be followed by my beetles and dealt with. What brings a girl like you to the surface?”

He looked her dead in the eyes wondering what a Drow with so many weapons would be doing on the surface and not leading a army below?

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria looked at him with skepticism peeking out of the eyes from over top the scarf. It was a story that didn't wholly add up to her. No matter how good a fighter, even an elite warrior could be brought low if swarmed by a mob. No amount of beetles would protect him then, but she didn't speak on it further, simply filing it away in the skeptical mind of hers.

"A disappointing outcast of some noble family?" she wagered a guess. It wasn't an unusual story for those who came to the surface.

She eased herself lightly onto a stool almost like a panther perched to leap on its prey at any moment should someone move against her. There was no question she was on guard here and perhaps everywhere.

"I am looking for someone who has knowledge of the local region. And someone who is looking for their place in this world. Does that sound like you?" she asked. It was cryptic but gave a good enough idea that she was looking for real recruits for something.

Drawen Asmunder

 

[Drawen Asmunder]

He looked nearvous, not sweaty but not dry either. “You’re not wrong but you are not right either, my lineage used to be nobels but those days are long gone. You can only do so much for a nomadic family by tending to their pets, so one day they were forced to starve or send me away.”

He was in shape but not built for battle either. His hands looked soft and moist, like he had never been in a fight. “I’ve out in this area since my parents threw me out 70 years ago, and finding my place in the world does sound more adventures than living out in the middle of nowhere here.”

He looked at her nearly jumpy but still relaxed posture on the stool. “Now I have given my own reason for being on this harsh surface, what about you?”