Noct Yaegir Vignette - Moonlight Before the Mountains

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Vel’duith nodded at Melfa, switching her vernacular to Draconic a moment. While her diction was precise, her voice utterly lacked the rich sonority and firm glottal strength the dragon-tongue rightly demanded.

<<Indeed, O Melfa, that is my very intention: to make a home and common cause here with the Noct Yaegirs. I hope my ‘magicks’ may prove to be of useful service in hunting all the horrid beasts I was reading about today in the library!>>

She listened eagerly to Karskgorak’s tall tales, and was feeling quite as sweated as a well-blanched mushroom by the time the venerable warrior had finally grown weary of the telling.

“Aye, Ser Karskgorak, I find body and mind also begging me for respite: both from being parboiled and regaled, though I assure you the latter is merely to take a few hours to meditate, digest, and ruminate upon these glorious tales of valor you have shared with us this night. I judge that you are indeed the superior storyteller!”

The dark elf waggled her finger in circles a moment as she stretched and emerged from the bath, the water that was dripping from her fine white hair and dark, wand-slender form evaporating into silvery shimmers of mist about her. Remembering the tiefling-guard’s concern, she also cantripped dry the Drake-hound, who rolled about the bath-deck, at first confused, but then thoroughly elated by the sensation.

The drow dressed herself methodically in her layers of robes, without any haste, then began to equally fastidiously comb her hair into presentability while she waited for her newly-met abbanen to finish readying themselves to ascend back up into the keep proper. She wondered whether keeping the heroic tales playing in the back of her mind might fix them in her reverie - such would be far more pleasant than the jarring memories that had haunted her the past few days.

Vel’duith switched back to Draconic to address the mighty she-dragon again.

<<O Melfa, I gather that your folk warm themselves from their immediate surroundings alone, and not from within their own blood - have you braziers set about where you take your rest?>>

Melfa
Ispir Sione
Karskgorak Fiend-Crusher
 
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Melfa did not understand her the first time she was addressed by the dark elf.

Not surprisingly, she did not understand her the second time either.

Halfway through donning the many layers of her armor, the komodi looked up only at the perceived sound of her name and gave the drow a most confused head tilt.

"Wat?"
 
The dark elf looked sheepishly back at Melfa.

“My apologies, O Melfa - I thought perhaps you spoke Draconic, and such might be more comfortable for conversation than trade-tongue. I asked whether you kept braziers in your sleeping-quarters for warmth, since it seems your blood provides you none of your own. Oh, and earlier I had said that I hope to make a home here. And use my magic against the monsters you hunt.”
 
Draconic? She did not. There were those who believed the ancient origins of their native tongue to be descended of draconic, but the languages were far too separated by the centuries of civilized living to match any longer.

"Melfa sleep with hot coals," she responded, the tilt of her skull and subsequently the angle of her horns shifting one way and then the other as she looked the dark elf down and then up again, "or warm otherss," the komodi's lips split over a mouthful of too-sharp teeth, "coal-skin Vel-dooth is welcome to join."

She'd been aiming for bedding down with Karsk the orc, who would provide plenty of body heat all on his own, but the more the merrier.
 
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A snowy eyebrow arched, and she nodded thoughtfully, suppressing certain other thoughts that had awakened. She surely just means warmth…

“I see… well, what meager warmth I may offer shall be yours to share. After the chill atop the watchtower earlier, I should not decline a cluster of warm bodies either!”

Turning toward Ispir, she added:

“What of you, O young master bard?”

The dark elf’s expression was of course utterly full of mischief.
 
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Ispir's preparations for his equipment would hitch, sending a discordant note echoing through the bath as there was such a... a.... a brazen offer made! The strings of the lute giving an almost amused, or maybe equally distressed, TWANG as Ispir's hands fumbled and his face burned a bright sakura blossom pink as the Drow woman inquired about him joining. The calm, steady, familiar motions of stringing his equipment being replaced with frankly scared static!

"M-...Bwuhh... Umm..."

Blinking rapidly Ispir would quickly shake his head, swallowing thickly, his gaze meeting Vel'duith Voiryn 's eyes, then hurriedly darting away to Melfa and then even more hurriedly finding the floor. His voice a very shaky, startled and nervous thing.

"A-Ahhhhh no... umm... no thank you. I'm... I'm plenty warm already."

No longer present of mind enough to focus on his equipment Ispir would instead quickly begin stowing his instruments away, suddenly very self-conscious and wanting to get out of here!​
 
“Bahahaha” laughed the old orc.

“Then it seems the time has come for an old celibate such as I to take my leave, as talk shifts to that of intimate youth.”

Karsk stood from the bath and made his way to his tucked away items, donning the bare minimum to ensure his decency as turned to the others from in front of the door.

“It was good to see you Melfa, and meet the rest of you besides!”

Out in the hall, Hojen was following his managerial instincts in the direction of the stone bath as he saw Karsk walking down the hall with steam emanating off of his nearly naked body as it came into contact with the chilly evening air.
 
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