Fantasy Children of Blood and Shadows - Devil's Walkway

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox chuckled at her words. He reached out for the cup of water she had set out for him, taking a large gulp of the cool liquid.

"I don't think he would have the guts to spear me though the heart, even though I am in chains. But he was very easy to rile up. He swallowed up my baiting like a fish. But I'm not lying about him lusting after you"

At her next comment, he almost spat out the liquid with amusement. "You would trust me, to guard your celibacy?" He couldn't help it, he laughed, throwing his head back in a full throated sound. "I would probably be one of the worst people to to protect your virtue." He gave her a suggestive look and sly smile.

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel felt highly amused and just a little bit uncomfortable by his choice of words. She shook her head again, smiling.

"I already know about it." She admitted "He never was one to hide his feelings very well and we have been companions for years now." She shrugged, not wanting to add anything more regarding Conor or his feelings or the beliefs the prisoner had about them. Instead, she wanted to talk more about where he was from.

He didn't gave her enough time though, going on laughing loudly at her, almost drowning with his water and as a smile begun forming on her lips too, he said something that made her cheeks flush even reder than they already were from the fever. She blinked, trying to figure out what he ment, what he really ment not puzzled by his words but rather his smile and the spark in his golden eyes. Ivorel was at a loss of words, something that didn't occur often.

"I... Don't think my virtue needs protection." She said carefully, studying his face "Why would you be one of the worst though?" She asked, tilting her head slightly on the side, as she often did without realising when she felt puzzled. In her mind the memory of him saying she would rip her clothes off if he got the chance played in repeat but in her heart, she couldn't believe he would ever force himself on a woman. Men like him were fixated on spilling blood, on fighting against worthy opponents, not going after women in that way.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox lifted an eyebrow with amusement.

"Well well well, an elf who thinks the best of her demon prisoner. That is not something I thought I would never see." he chuckled at the look in her eyes and shrugged. "You are right though I don't force myself on women. Is it so hard to believe my innuendo though? You're attractive, and I'm male. Besides, I have had the recent experience of women forcing themselves on me. "
He gave her a knowing look, meaning the time earlier where she had pressed herself against him sensually. His eyes were intent on her, scanning her face for a reaction to his words

 

[Ririn]

"I'm a woman in the army!" She stated the obvious, completely sitting up now to look at him, wrapping her hands around her knees, still covered with the blankets to keep herself warm. "Do we have women in the army? Yes. Do a lot of them become Captains? No." She said not bragging about her self, rather just trying to explain her point of view to him. "It doesn't matter that you are my prisoner and it doesn't matter that you are Demon. I can tell a man that cares more about a worthy opponent and is sure of himself from a man that just craves whatever kind of power he can take for himself." She concluded with a shrug licking her lips. It was the truth of the world, at least her world that not all were worthy of the power given to them and some would definitely abuse it.

His next words though made her smile and giggle shaking her head. It was hard to admit it to herself but she was genuinely enjoying talking with him.
"Well, who doesn't want to hug a bleeding, chained up man that has made comments of ripping off clothes and mincing one's flesh, right?" She joked, deciding that it was the only way to answer his remarks. Otherwise she would have to take into account that he had just given her a compliment trying to further prove he was in fact, serious about being someone who wouldn't guard her virtue if he had the chance.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox fell into silence about her worlds. It was fascinating to see the opinion she was forming of him. And quite accurately so, despite the fact that she couldn't read the ink on his skin. She was right, battle was in his blood, not the desire to bed women without their permission. She did earn herself a chuckle at last comment, but Vox did not deign to reply to any of it.

He had started this thread of discussion to try and unnerve her, so that he could learn more about what made her tick. He thought how much easier this game of cat and mouse would have been if he he could read her tattoos. But instead, she had unnerved him just as much, and he had found out she was also reading him unusually well. He eyed her under the mound of blankets she was using to keep warm. The captor who wouldn't let her prisoner out of her sight even when half delirious with fever. He shook his head, baffled at the woman in front of him.

"You suppose you know me so well, Captain. And how many prisoners of my kind have you had under your whip to figure out a man like me?" His voice had dropped. He meant the comment to be aggressive, a defensive jab that allowed him to return to his normal, hostile self. Yet it just came out tired and almost saddened as he leaned his head back onto the metal frame of his imprisonment whilst it supported his back.

 

[Ririn]

She could see his eyes trying to pierce holes through the blankets and clothes but not in a dirty way, no. He wasn't craving her, he didn't care about how she looked or who she was without her clothes. What was he looking for though?
Maybe exactly what you are looking for when you stare at him, a little voice told her and it actually made sense. They had spend some time talking about their tattoos, wasn't it the next logical step to wonder of each other's specific patterns and symbols?

She listened to him speak, watch as his demeanor changed but not in the way she would have expected it to, when speaking such words. There was something in his tone that made her think he was just as tired as she was.

"I don't need my whip to figure out a man like you." She answered back searching for his eyes. She wanted to look at him for the next part of her answer, she wanted to know how he felt. "Like you said, you and I are products of the same war. I have met countless from your kind, countless of my kind that have been forged in this war. And you know what? They all spend their lifes trying to make their side, the victorious one. That's what I hoped I was changing, guarding that Lord. Think of me what you want, I am everything you think I am if that helps you justify your actions but I have grown tired of this endless war, even if it runs in my veins." She smiled cryptically "A man like you, doesn't need figuring out. You chase after death and have no ambition to get rich, the blood of evles is the only thing you are after. You told me this on your own yet when I was right there" she motioned towards him with her chin "right there, on your lap, you didn't kill me. You didn't minced my flesh, even though you now know, I'm the only one in this camp capable of stopping your escape." Ivorel stopped talking, licking her lips, just looking at him with eyes that now clearly bespoke of her pain.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox closed his eyes as she talked. He didn't fully trust the emotion that might be displayed within them as he listened. She spoke of harsh truths, but truths he knew.

"Do not speak of me like you think I don't know myself, Ivorel. I know myself better than most people will ever know themselves. I know my strengths, and my failings. And I as I said, I am a product of this war. But instead of running from it like you are trying to, I have embraced it. I live to kill, because I don't have anything else to live for. Because your kind took that from me bitterly. So I kill, and I love it. I was made for it." He paused, thoughtfully and opened his golden eyes to look at her.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost a whisper. "Yet, I didn't kill you. I didn't kill you because of how much like me you are. I look at you, and wonder if I would have turned out the same regardless on which side of the Devil's Walkway I was born on." He huffed "But I don't kid myself with notions of peace."

"This abstract notion you talk about, will you really stand aside and allow my race to live peacefully for it, despite what they have done to you? Will you give back the plains that you took from us when your race first arrived in this land ? I know that I don't care about land or peace. There is no such thing as peace for us; war is all we will ever know, we crave it. So why fight it? I have made amends with that, have you?"

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel felt her body tense like his words were hurting her but he was only speaking of truths like she had done just a moment before. Had her own words made him feel that way or he was in fact so in peace with this thing he had become that her words went in from one ear and immediately left his mind from the other?

"I don't care about lands. I never had a land really, not like most people have. We have more than we need and your people know it. My people know it too but have insisted on this war for so long it's too difficult, too late, to back away now." She spoke her tone so flat like all emotion had been suddenly drained from her. "I think, to some extent, same goes for you and me. It's too difficult, it's too late to back away now. But I still crave peace too, weirdly enough, I have always looked for it, is that what you want to hear?" She asked carrying on with the flat tone.

"My kind took what you loved. So you didn't always live for war, right? You weren't made for it, you were made into it, like me." She said, still looking deep in his eyes, trying to figure if that new feeling inside her was what losing felt like. "Are you really that fond of war that you led a team into our land to assassinate a Lord? It doesn't make sense, I'm sorry. It just doesn't. If you truly think that marriage wouldn't have helped our people, why did you stop it? Why not let things unfold on their own, go on to show that we are in fact as corrupted as you account us to be?" Ivorel asked in honesty though she was starting to feel sick again, like the air around her wasn't enough.

He had said so many things she hadn't commented on, he had called her by her name, not to irritate her, not to hurt her, only to... Only to do what? the voice inside her head asked but she didn't have an answer. She closed her eyes, letting her head rest on her knees, breathing through her nostrils as she tried to calm her body down.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox shook his head

"No, you're wrong, It's more than that. I wasn't just made into it, I was born into it. I was born into a tribe that was already touched by centuries of war with your kind. I came into the world and I was already destined to be immersed in it. Your kind's atrocities just pushed me over the edge into the abyss." He stated the fact like he wasn't even talking about himself at all.

"So your notion of peace would never have touched me anyway. Negotiations, politics., its all meaningless to me. For me, it was another job, another elf to kill, for me to enact my vengeance.As I said, war is all I have ever known. I crave it." His golden eyes where upon her, boring into her.

 

[Ririn]

"And you think you are the only one? I could smell the burning bodies as they pilled up in the devil's walkway! I could hear their screams in the night!" Ivorel said though her voice reached Vox muffled, as she still rested her head on her knees, feeling too sick to even move.

But then he said something. Something that her foggy, feverish brain took a moment to process and analyze.
For me, it was another job, that's what he said! A job! A job ment someone had put him up to it, someone had hired or recruited him. He is an assasin! Ivorel thought and that was enough to make her head rise from between her hands, looking at him through glossy eyes that only proved how much the fever was affecting her!

"You are an assasin! Or a recruit. Somebody put you up to it!" She spoke her thoughts out loud, astonished by that realisation!

And a moment after that, Ivorel felt her stomach kick violently, leaving her just enough time to reach for the bucket before again, throwing up and even though she had recently ate the only thing that exited her body, was the same dark slimmy liquid. Ivorel remained leaned over the bucket, trying to catch her breath as she threw up again.
And then her stomach finally settled in.
Ivorel wiped her mouth on her sleeve though what was staining her mouth just a moment ago, wasn't there anymore.

The elf fell back on the mattress heavily, looking blindly for the blankets, bringing it up to her chin as she pulled her knees close to her body, moaning in pain.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox jerked his head like he had been stung. He hadn't realized his tongue had slipped so badly as to give away the fact that he had been recruited for the job rather than orchestrating it himself. He cursed himself inside, although he was also surprised that such a slip hadn't happened earlier, given the amount of information the had exchanged.

He was about to reply with a dismissive comment when Ivorel's body heaved and spasmed. She barely had time to position herself over the bucked before expelling that foul substance from her body again. And she didn't stop. Vox couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. A confused jumble of emotions flitted though his mind as he stared at his captor. Why did he care if she got sicker and sicker? She was right, if she died, there would be nobody in the camp who could prevent his escape. He could simply wait until the next mistake his captors would make and he would be out of these chains, their blood soaking his body. Wasn't that what he wanted? Hadn't he just told her that?

Without meaning to, he had shuffled forward, closer to the mattress on the floor, yet still out of reach.
"This isn't supposed to be happening, is it?" He muttered in a quiet voice.

 

[Ririn]

Everything went dark for her as another, long lasting, tremor took over her body, making her whole covered up form shake. He couldn't see it, but for that moment her eyes had returned to the same, dark misty colour they had when she had pulled him in the void with her.

Then the word returned to it's normal state, with it's usual colours and sounds and smells and Ivorel tried to stretch her tightened muscles, just in time to hear his almost silent question. And how right he was indeed.

She stayed silent for so long he could easily believe she had fallen asleep but then eventually, her voice was heard, weak and trembling.

"No, this isn't supposed to be happening." She admitted, closing her eyes and finally letting herself sink in a dreamless sleep that lasted over half the day, in which time, she didn't move at all under her blankets.

But when her eyes finally reopened, Ivorel felt much less foggy and disoriented. Good, that's good! she thought, as she threw the blankets away, standing up slowly and when she was certain her legs could support her well, she stretched, choosing and not forgetting, to not give a damn about if her shirt was out of place, or if it would get pulled higher. Ivorel wanted to stretch, she needed to feel like she had reclaimed power over her exhausted body and having a demon in the tent, possibly see a few pieces of markings he wouldn't understand, really didn't matter right now.

What she forgot to think about, were the scars on her back. And if Vox was indeed looking at her, he would see a very peculiar pattern. The light blue ink covered her stomach and reached her ribcage, where it met with the old scars from a whip, creating the most peculiar embrace around her slim fair body.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox watched her.

And watched her.

And watched her.

He hadn't moved since she had fallen asleep. There was nothing for him to do, he told himself. So he watched every line of her body as she tossed and turned under the mound of blankets. Her face was pale and clammy, eyes rolling wildly under her eyelids. Her breath came out in shallow gasps, as if every breath tortured her. And yet he remained immobile, constrained by the chains around his wrists and ankles.

There was a moment when her breathing became so light it was almost imperceptible. Yet Vox just stared, at loss for what to do. Should he call the guards? No, she was his enemy. Should he check her himself? No, the chains were too short. What was he thinking? Why did he care if another elf died? Eventually, her breathing deepened and a tight knot of muscle in his shoulders that he hadn't realized was there finally relaxed. Yet he didn't move, just staring at her.

People came and went outside the tent. Whisperings of passerbys but the guards remained silent. Vox felt a twang of amusement at that fact, remembering the last time he had caught them talking. The morning stretched to afternoon, which stretched to evening, Yet Ivorel didn't wake. His throat was parched, cup empty and he could feel his belly rumble and still he did not move.

It wasn't until evening that her breathing changed and she started to shift. She hadn't looked at him as she stood, stretching her lithe form, her back to him. And as he watched her with her tousled hair and misaligned clothes, the shirt came away from her body, exposing her midriff. The blue tinted markings where the first thing he noticed, and, like a forbidden fruit, he feasted his eyes on them, committing them to memory to examine at a later date. He knew the markings where sacred to her, but to his people they were a natural thing and he didn't think too deeply of the gesture. Then his eyes were drawn to her back. He blinked, twice. He had been right, and he didn't know how he felt about that fact. Her back was a crisscrossing mesh of whip scars, the tendrils of which extended even down her ribcage. The scars were old and pale, telling a tale of pain when she was young. Yet Vox knew scars like few others did. The spacing, the number of lashes, the deepness of the wounds all told him of repeated exposure to her captor, as if she had been whipped more than once on different occasions. The scars were deep, as if her captor had taken savage glee in the process, yet sloppy unlike Ivorel's precise strikes on his own chest.

"Who did that to you?" His voice was deep and dark as he continued to gaze at the pale marks on her skin.

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel almost jumped in surprise by the sudden sound of his voice and she spinned around to face her prisoner, letting her arms fall on her sides, shirt moving down with them, covering every part of her body that was uncovered just a moment before, eyes wide open almost like she didn't expected him to be there.

Then her brain started working again, as it shook the last of the daze away. Ivorel blinked and yawned, then smiled, walking up to the table, gulping down water like she had been walking in the desert for days. The fever really wasn't doing her any favours. When she finally had enough and her throat and mouth didn't feel like leather left out in the sun, she took the pot of water with her, going to fill up his cup as well.

It was only when she was on her knees infront of him, only when she locked eyes with him, only when she spotted the darkness inside them that she realised what it was he had asked. Ivorel's smile wiped off her face, that suddenly was a mask with no emotions. Only her grey eyes showed signs of life, sparkling, more alive than ever.

"It doesn't matter." She answered, not with anger, not with pain, not with shame. There was nothing in her tone, like there was nothing on the lines of her face. Ivorel just spoke the words like she had told them so many times that they had lost all their meaning. Like she had practiced emptying her self from all emotions, draining the life away before answering that question.

"Are you hungry?" She asked getting up, taking the pot of water with her, leaving it on the table. She picked up her vest corset, putting it back on and as she started pulling the strings and tying them, finally life seemed to return to her, hands shaking, eyes firmly fixed on the strings of the vest, shoulders tensed.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox's eyes never left her as she moved around the tent. She had regained much vitality after her rest, almost looking like her old self again. With the vulnerability in her demeanor gone, Vox half expected her to grab her whip and rain down lashes upon his flesh. He blinked the image away. Perhaps she would be easier to deal with then. He understood violence, yet he didn't know how to classify sick, feeble Ivorel in his brain.

He studied her carefully as she came close, her face an emotionless mask. No feeling permeated from her, like she had become the void she had used to capture him. Vox knew that look. He knew of the unknown swirling emotions under the surface of the mask, because he had worn that mask himself many times when telling himself his past hurts didn't matter. But they always did. He let it go, not pushing further. He knew he would get nothing out of her.

He accepted the drink she offered and nodded to her question about food. He gulped the cool liquid like a drowning man. He didn't ask again why she was being nice enough to care for his basic needs. He almost chuckled to himself. Who would have thought; a prisoner yet he was being fed more lavishly than he had been in months.

"That is quite a terrible drawback that your powers have. Can't be convenient to be wiped out like that after every battle." he stated, his voice curious.

 

[Ririn]

It took everything in her to not scream in frustration as her fingers seemed unable to do tie the simplest of knots! In fact, she had to go through many old memories from her training to keep her mouth shut, until eventually, the vest was tightly hugging her waist and chest!

Only then, did she dare to look at the demon, knowing that she was regaining her strength fast now which ment she would also regain better control of her emotions and reactions as well. There were so many things that needed to be done and had been derailed because of her sickness. Bringing her palm up on her forehead, she realised she was still running a fever but it wasn't as bad as before. Rest would have to wait and as it often had to when one was in the military.

Taking another red apple with her, she left it infront of him to take if he wanted to, sitting on the chair, crossing her legs.

His comment about her powers made her smile, ever so slightly.
"Actually, that's not exactly the case."she answered honestly but careful not too say too much this time. One of the advantages of being a Shadowborn was that few existed that fully grasped the potential and the cost of such powers.

"Your power though! Perfect for a battle, though I'm not sure it's particularly useful otherwise?" She wondered, thinking that at least her powers weren't always about battles and bloodshed while he was something completely different than her, yet she still couldn't forget all the common ground they shared. The thought made her swift slightly in her position and she caught herself looking upon his tribal markings again, almost mesmerized by them like she was staring at a moonles, night sky with so many starts that it was almost impossible to read the constellations.

"You said you are a creature of the Scorched Wastes." she repeated his words from earlier. "Is it true the lands there have some of the most dangerous beasts in all the land?" She asked playfully.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

He took the offered apple from her, biting into the crisp flesh. He had noticed her skirting the question and he realized that her previous loose-lips were probably inspired by the fever, though he was surprised she still remembered the comment about the Scorched Wastes. He took another bite out of the apple. He decided he liked apples.

"Oh no" He chuckled "I'm not volunteering any more information unless you give me something in return. If you want something, you've got to offer something for it." He thought, rolling the apple core around in his palm.

"I'll tell you about the Scorched Wastes if you tell me something about your powers" he concluded.

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel couldn't help but giggle softly at his offer, a tingling sound like wind passing through those wind chimes the children kept outside their rooms.

The last time he had made a similar offer she was pleased to find out, his was a man of his word at the very least! Why not go with it now? Whiping him half to death, hadn't get her very far with the interrogation but exchanging information seemed to work. And though she hated to admit so, she truly enjoyed talking to the demon. He was far more smart and sophisticated than she had expected he would be.

"You've got yourself a deal!" She agreed amused, standing up, passing by him and exiting the tent though she didn't went far. In fact, she didn't go anywhere at all. She took two minutes, asking the guards to bring some more food, scrolls, ink and a feather pen. And apple pie. She had asked that too, keeping her voice but a whisper hoping the demon wouldn't be able to make out words from it.

Then she returned inside, to her usual chair infront of him, a playful smile curving her lips.

"So, my powers!" She said, crossing her hands over her lap, pouting as she wondered what she could and couldn't tell to him about them. "Not everything I do results into the mess you saw earlier. To be completely honest, almost nothing leads to that." She admitted "I captured you in the forest and carried you all the way here keeping you under my control and I just needed to sleep a bit." She concluded, waiting for him to start talking, already thinking about what her next question should be.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

A light sparkled behind the demon's golden gaze as she accepted his offer. His eyes followed her as she left the tent briefly and he made himself more comfortable - or as comfortable as he could be - after the long hours of sitting on the hard ground. He leaned against the metal frame and crossed his legs. He was interested to see how far she would take this little game and how much information he could derive from her. He knew that there were things that he would never speak of himself.

As she sat down in the chair in front of him, he listened carefully at what she had to say, picking up on how she emphasized certain words. He nodded, it was a start. Now it was his turn

"The Scorched Wastes are the most inhospitable place I have ever been to. Yet it was home for me, despite the blistering heat and the scouring sand storms." he said, an a wistful look entered his eyes. "Dangerous beasts do indeed prowl the wastes. Desert wolves, unlike the ones that roam the Frozen Wilds, slender bodies fur-less and grotesque. Giant many-legged centipedes that blend in to the sand, immobile for months until a creature walks by. Creatures my tribe called the Htha'rogh, roam the deserts in packs, looking for meat. They are horse-like, with long limber legs, but that is pretty much the only similarity. They are covered in scales and have spines instead of a mane, and their feet have claws instead of hooves. They are closely related to a draconid, with fangs that can mince though flesh. These creatures my tribe use as mounts, though they are fearsome to tame and require a firm hand to control."

"Yet worst of all are the blind Sand Wyrms that burrow in the desert dunes. They are huge, legless dragons that navigate the earth though vibration, mouths filled with layers of razor sharp teeth. The are the prize of any hunt, though few have ever killed one." His hand traced the symbols on his forearm unconsciously as he was lost in the visions of his homeland.

 

[Ririn]

She found herself listening closely as he spoke of his homeland, her body slightly leaning towards him as he had managed to capture her attention more than even she expected. Those weren't very valuable information for her right now, but the Scorched Wastes had always been a mystery to her people. The first settlers had travelled there but most of them never returned and those who did return, told tales of a wild empty land, savaged by beasts and the ever lasting heat, that her kind simply couldn't survive. And here she was, Ivorel of the Shadows, listening to a demon that called that place home!

Ivorel could tell that he was missing his home, as his eyes seemed to travel in those far away places momentarily forgetting he was at the wrong side of the Devil's walkway chained up in a tent. She also noticed his hand traveling up, touching ,almost with a melancholy, some symbols that were curved onto his skin as he spoke about the most dangerous of beasts, saying they were the prize of every hunt. Maybe he had killed one himself? Or had he lost someone dear to his heart because of those, Sand Wyrms? She couldn't know the answer to that and no matter how much she looked at his tattooed skin, the symbols didn't mean anything to her.

"Those beasts, that resemble a horse?" Ivorel spoke softly, not wanting to draw him out of his memories too violently "They exist in our tales. They come in packs at dawn destroying everything and everyone that dares to step in their way with mighty claws and sharp teeths!" Ivorel giggled.
"You called them... Htha'rogh?" She tried to say the word he had used, pronouncing every letter almost separated from the others, knowing she sounded awful if not funny.
She shook her head, knowing she had just slaughtered the word that felt strange and sharp on her tongue!
"You mount them and we use them to scare the children!" She shrugged, still smiling.

"So, what's your name?" She asked her next question,raising an eyebrow playfully. He had known her name since the beginning due to the stupidity of her own guards but had refused to give her his, so making that her next question felt natural.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox's lips curled in amusement at her attempt at his language. His mother tongue was not an easy one to pronounce, with its harsh consonants, limited vowels and deep guttural sounds. It was so vastly different from the common tongue, let alone the elves' high lilting language "Not bad, for an elf." he teased her, breaking out into an amused smile. "But you are not wrong, Htha'rogh are creatures from nightmares, so they are apltly named to mean just that; the dreams that keep you awake at night in a cold sweat. We have named them Htha'rogh because of their scream, a tactic they use to hunt pray. It causes senseless, blinding panic that causes even the toughest warrior to loose their wits." He chuckled then

"But normal horses cannot survive the blistering desert heat, and swift movement over the sands is necessary for survival. So, my tribe, strong-headed as they are, decided to tame them. It is not an easy task though" He paused and his hand went to his leg. Slowly, he rolled what was left of his trouser up his leg, exposing his calf. A daunting scar, marred the surface of his shin. It appeared shredded, as if great fangs had torn into his flesh, taking out bites and chunks. Ink markings swirled over the pale flesh, telling the story of the encounter. "We say that, you are not one to choose a Htha'rogh, but a Htha'rogh chooses you, by trying to kill you. Once bonded, they are fiercely loyal creatures." His hands left his leg, but didn't lower the fabric, allowing her a good look of the mangled scar.

He smiled at her next question about his name. "Is that how you want to use up your next question then? Alright, but in exchange, I want to know more about your powers. You said not everything you do leads to you being horribly sick afterward. But you said, 'Almost nothing leads to that'. Almost. So what has lead you to this state in the past?"

 

[Ririn]

A faint red painted her cheeks as he commented on her failed attempt to speak his language. She was bad at it yet, he hadn't mocked her as she expected him to. The realisation of that actually made her nervous. It was easier when he was being an asshole to her and she was as equally bad to him. Now... It felt different to talk to him.

She leaned forward when he pulled up the chunks of fabric that held his pants together, letting her eyes wonder on the old, deformed scar he was showing her. It was easy to see sharp teeths had bitten away at the flesh that had been later decorated with dark ink. A symbol that spoke of what had happened between him and the beast. A symbol she hadn't ask to see, yet the demon had gone ahead showing it to her. Sure, his idea of tattoos was different than hers but still, they remained personal.

"So... The beast actually becomes... Kind of your companion after you've tamed it?" She asked arching her eyebrows. "Like with horses, right?"

Her amused demeanor changed though when he set a price for his name. A high price. Why was he still asking about her powers? Why bother with learning what made her sick in the past? She shook her head, leaning back at her chair.

"Why do you care so much about what makes me sick?" She asked with curiosity painting her tone but she went on answering anyway. "Similar displays of power as the one you saw, had lead occasionally to similar sickness. But I don't manifest voids whenever I go or in the middle of a battle." Ivorel shrugged,not giving away too much details. He was asking too much for just his name but she didn't express that opinion out loud.
"My people call you The Berserker because what you did in the Devil's walkway, didn't go unnoticed. What do you think it would happen if suddenly, there was a darkness of nothing taking up space in the front line?" Ivorel was clearly asking for his opinion on that possible scenario.
As someone who had been taught early on in her life to hide what she could do, fear her powers more than others feared her potentials, Ivorel almost never brought those powers in a battle and the drawbacks weren't to blame for that decision.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox could feel her eyes bore into the skin of his calf as she examined the scared flesh. Her interest almost took him by surprise until he remembered that they each viewed these markings differently. If he had been talking to his tribespeople, showing them the scar with the tattoos was all that he needed to do to get complete understanding from the other party. Yet her eyes traced the lines over and over, wondering at their meaning. He almost smiled at himself though it quickly turned into a frown. He had been so lost in talking about his homeland that he had shown no hesitation in sharing some of his history. Why had he wanted her to know? This was beyond the simple agreement they had come to. He needed to be more careful.

He chuckled darkly at her comment. "No, they are definitely not like the feeble creatures your kind calls horses. But yes, they become a companion.... for lack of better words" He smiled slightly, thinking of his own connection to the Htha'rogh that had mangled his leg, fingers tracing the edge of the scar almost affectionately.

The chuckle turned into a laugh when he heard her poor answer to his question. "I didn't ask about the level of power that made you sick. I asked about a specific time it has happened in the past and what lead you into that state." He gave her a knowing look "But if my name, that you so desire isn't worth the information, then I would be willing to consider adding something more to the information exchange." Vox proposed, waiting to see if she would take the bait. He shuffled in his chains, adjusting his position.

"But despite that, if a set of powers like yours appeared on the front line, I think I would relish the challenge, don't you think? See if this 'Berserker' of yours can take down the mighty void" His smile turned devilish, as he tried to provoke her, not unkindly so, but more like friendly banter.

 

[Ririn]

He had caught up to her try to dodge the question and refused to give his name in exchange for it proposing... What was it he was proposing exactly? Her eyebrows arched as the unspoken question appeared on the lines of her face and something in her started to itch, craving to know how much was he willing to say in order to get that little piece of private information about her past? What was he after?

"The Berserker already failed to take up the void." She answered with a grin returning the harsh provoking comment. "My powers are useful against most opponents but their cost, as you saw, can be high." She admitted what he already knew, still unwilling to let him know details of her life. If she was to answer when in her past she was made to push herself to exhaustion like that, she would be giving away moments of her life that were ment to be kept hidden away, buried deep in her soul. But was there any other choice left for her when the man she was supposed to be guarding with her life had been brutally slaughtered by the Demons?

"So, are you willing to finally
tell me who was it that wanted to stop the wedding hard enough to send you and the others in our borders?" She asked, thinking that, if she was to share something so personal with him she might as well get something more valuable than just his name out of it. In all honesty, Ivorel didn't feel ready to sacrifice so much of her soul for the shake of the mission, but her reputation and fate was at the line since the assassination, it didn't leave much room for her to have an opinion on whether or not she would bare her heart open for him to see and poke around at.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

The smile played on his lips as as she bit back at his provocation. "Oh, but I haven't failed, Ivorel." He said her name with the low tones of his mother tongue, rumbling and earthy sounds making her name sound exotic and strange on his lips. "I am not dead yet, so I have not failed. And I'm sure there will be another opportunity for me to pit myself against your powers" His eyes were sharp and there was a playful challenge deep inside them. Unlike her, using his powered didn't exhaust him, but revitalized him. He would have lavished the challenge of fighting with her again and he wondered if he had found that worthy opponent he had been searching for for so long.

He pondered at her offer. Was he willing to tell her what had happened to lead him to this point? Was he willing to crack for the simple information of her past? His mind was filled with a hunger for the knowledge she had to offer, knowing more about her had almost become a game. He was so fascinated by the creature that sat opposite him, appearing so strong but hiding such vulnerability. Yet was he willing to betray his cause? Truth be told he didn't care about the cause at all. He had told her earlier; it was all another job to him; another elf to kill to enact his vengeance. It hadn't mattered that the elf was a lord, yet the chaos that would ensue from his death had drawn him in to begin with.

"Two names." he decided. "I will give you my own, and I will give you that of the people I was working with. Two names that hold power, for one piece of your past. How does that sound?"