Consitil gets his stuff back, and meets up with some enemies.
Zar halted in her tracks the second that pale-elf threatened to expose her, with his loud mouth. An obvious tension made her body flex where it was exposed. The female was strength within a thin, very fine looking body. Turning that skull, a creak of the neck was heard. She turned to face Consitil, and began to speak. "Go ahead, squeal like a girl. You damn well look like one anyway. Your weakness is not my problem."A grin formed upon the drey’s face. "I just love it when people threaten me, than I get to turn their minds into jelly, and watch them drool at my feet. You want to call out little girl?"She gave Consitil a little shrug. "By all means do. I can leave at will . . . Can you?"
Both seemed bitchy. Both bore an obvious attitude. Fine! Not likely either of them cared, so it all worked out well. ‘Do not answer me, male!’ Zar continued to think to herself, knowing he was weakened without his spells or magical items. He needed her, even if he wouldn't admit it. She really did not want him to be yet another tortured in the way of the drow. Pale elves were killed very painfully. She would simply wait for him to catch up now, as she regained footing, stepping off, and leading him to the anti chamber of a room, about nine doors down from where they were at presently.
No drow seemed to lurk afoot, but that drey seemed on her toes, stroking the hilt of her whip blade at all times. Almost as if getting ready for any unexcepted company.
With an outstretched hand, and flick of a wrist, the door fell open. Zar narrowed her eyes, as taking her time, making damn sure, nothing clung to the shadows, or left a scent. Uncanny vision was a grace from this female’s race. Darkness was never a problem, not even shadows. Nothing. Moving aside for the male, she pointed into the room they would enter. "In there . . . Hurry . . . "
Consitil did not to bother giving her a reply, he was above petty arguments, and so he ignored her words. Watching her carefully, he began to follow her. This female was his only guide, all that he had to lead him in this darkness.
Consitil watched her backside, trying to make her out with his low-light visuals, but turned occasionally to look down the corridor behind him, making sure no one followed them. When he heard her, he came to a halt just behind her, watching as she opened the door.
A thin brow quirked at her actions. Hearing her words ‘In there hurry,' He chose not to bother asking why, only ran into the room. Upon entering, he tried to look around noticing what he believed was a pile of things that was his, and his companions.
Consitil took no time in obtaining the objects, moving quickly to sling away the bags of torture equipment, put on his backpack, tied on a sack to the leather belt, then stood back upright. He took a hand, and began feeling along the bar of his newly obtained staff.
A dark smile formed as he felt the magic within, begin to pulsate and push within his palm. “By the gods . . . I have missed you.”he whispered, caressing the wooden pole.
Consitil searched these chambers, reaching out to grab a pair of random boots, slipping them onto his bare feet. Sighing in virtual relief, once again he looked around the chamber, noticing there was a bag there, a big bag, about the size of his head in the western most corner. “What is this?”he called out, moving to take a closer look.
Consitil reached down, running his hands along its exterior. Feeling it, “Oh yes!”, his eyes lit up. It felt heavy, much like coins. He would even swear he heard the sounds of beautiful, rare gems meshing around. ‘Finally, something worth my time in this place.’His thoughts were filled with value, and trying to place it on what was inside.
There was no time to open it, and count, however. ‘Pity.’With a mental shrug, he brought the backpack around, slipping that bag into it, tying the top tight, making sure it had no room to move around or make any sounds. He jiggled it a bit, and after it made no sound he placed the bag inside of the backpack. It was light for him, he was fully capable of carrying it. Sighing, he stood up straight and tall, ready for anything.
Consitil took his staff up, gripping it firmly, turning once again toward the door. He thought he had only taken a minute, but he was sure the female would argue, and complain about him wasting time. He moved to the doorway, looking for her, "I am ready female. Let us get the hell out of this black abyss." His eyes shone in the darkness. Lavender eyes pierced into her being, while He waited for her move.
Zar felt a disturbing sensation as the male stood before her, eyeing her with those intense, flaming depths, and his coarse-cold attitude. His arrogance displayed a sort of ability he had hoped to obtain, respect. A sneer plastered itself upon her facial features, at that realization. His body lay in her direct path again, so what did she choose to use as a shoving/elbow bag? Consitil. The movement was like one of a person not in the mood for his incantations, mirth or challenges. This male knew not his place in society, then again neither did she.
Quickly Zar’s body would move to get past Con's, moving with calm agility, stealth, and as silently as possible. She did not care that this male behind her, seemed oddly ‘too’ silent. (Boot of elven kind, with an enchantment to allow the wearer to move silently. The boots’ Consitil had picked up.) All that mattered was getting the hell out of range, before someone noticed either of them were missing, and their male war-party members were dead. Most wouldn't care about the males, if one hadn't been a war priest, than it was just a decrease on the weaker of their males.
Leading with her vision of collocated displacement, and light not at all hindering her way. They were moving at approximately four miles per hour at one moment, than she moved them at a march, or soldier’s readiness-pace. It was enough to cause either party to sweat under their armor, saturating the material of their clothing underneath. Soon, the movement ceased, and an arm extended up to catch Consitil's throat, as he was taller. "Don't move mage . . . "
Their sounds of breathing, if Consitil paused; wouldn't be the only thing they heard? The head snapped left, white eyes widened. Whatever she took in, was not expected. Stepping before the mage, the whip blade was whipped out with a ghastly sound, readied into the left, causing motion. "LIL WAELA LUETH WAELA RAGAR BRORNA LUETH WUNNIND,KYORLIN ELGHINN!"
The female went flying into combat blindly it would seem. Five males, and one female cleric-type, just happened to come down that corridor, exposing themselves to one spiteful drey. One that wasn't about to get caught, nor tortured, ever again.
Zar's whip blade cut through the female, as her stupid ass was leading the party, right at the neck. Tender neck tissues, skins, hard bones that were thin, blood vessels to include main arteries. The neck was sliced through like butter, this female drow's blood splattered the drey with its coppery heat. The cleric's head was not completely taken off, but it was damn funny to the drey to watch it flop, as the body crumbled to the ground, on her knees. Like any female drow, a fucking slut down on her knees! No more would she plague a male with her violent force of sexual needs.
Within seconds of shock, the five males were able to ready their weapons, and move in toward the drey in a circle-pattern. Consitil stood back, staring in horror. 'What do I do?'
The continuing story of the Guardians of the Soulstone.
Evil is afoot in the land.
The Guardians of the Soulstone are charged to find an ancient artifact that has been stolen from the Hall in Evertyll.
The Black Order is
Danielle enters a baking contest that the Rainbow Dream Trains are hosting to impress a small UN counsel that is coming to the Castle of Imagination. But things quickly go wrong, for a very dark reason.
Prince Charming in a Detroit warehouse? That's nothing! It's the throne that'll throw you! After freeing a ragged Prince Charming, two women discover dreams don't have to be fantasies -- and with enough elbow grease, anyone can create a kingdom.
