Thread: Darkness and light (LeatrixSage and Silver Star)

The Drow woman coaxed her horse into a trot before she flitted up into the saddle in a small leap to stretch muscles that had become stiff from weeks of inaction. Something in her back twinged painfully, but it passed quickly as she tucked her heels into the horse's side to press him into a fast canter and began to post in the saddle. The horses were fresh keeping a quick pace early on would help to guarantee they made it to the Crossroads Inn before dusk. With word spreading far and wide about a cursed queen, there was little traffic in or out of the city. Hopefully, that meant there would be limited competition for a good bed that was also clean. Or, for that matter, a room with more than one bed, because she was almost certain her unfortunate companion would not survive sleeping next to her any better than he would sleeping on the floor. Judging by his earlier discomfort, she felt it was safe to assume that the priest worshiped one of those gods that insisted all earthly desires were unclean. She must seem outlandish to him, the nasty little hypocrite. Despite their distaste for carnality, good food, and drink, all their priests seemed to wrap themselves in expensive clothes with plenty if gold and silver trimmings. Of course, some broke all those other rules, too, while they peddled their preaching and passed their judgement on the lowly followers of their sad faith. Obviously she wasn't dressed for modesty, and she had modified the disgustingly chaste armor to be a little more like what she was accustomed to. The surface was absurdly hot more often than not, and yet humans were obsessed with covering as much of their flesh as they possibly could. Typically, that even meant multiple layers. Hell, their whores wore more material than Liora had worn into battle in the Underdark, and they all sweat so much that she could barely smell anything other than their body order. Foul smelling creatures, one and all. They were a weak, pathetic race of mongrels that breed like rabbits. It was the only thing they really had going for them, you couldn't kill them faster than they could reproduce. They grew so much faster than any other race, and yet lived such tiny lives compared to the Drow, or even the darthiir, the traitorous surface elves, the leaf lickers that built their homes in trees. She'd never met one that she liked, but she liked humanity even less, and their faithful she hated most of all. It wasn't long until the little priest had worked his horse into a canter to catch up with her. As he urged his horse up along side of her, she reigned in to slow their pace. The poor man bounced around in the saddle in a way that reminded her of herself when she'd first sat one of the four-legged beasts. She didn't even him the aches and pains he would have if he didn't learn to post properly, or the ones he would have when he finally figured it out. The soft spot irked her, but looking at him, she couldn't get passed just how absurdly young he was, barely a man for the standards of his own race, and little more than frightened child to her own. She was going to have to get over that, treating him soft just made it more likely that he wouldn't survive outside the safety of libraries and temples. His questions and concerns simply drove that concept home. His question was simply too painfully naive for her to bother answering. If this wasn't dangerous, they would have sent him off on his own, and she would probably be dead by now. Sure, she'd hatched an escape plan or two, but getting out a jail cell was nothing compared to escaping in a city where you were the only creature with white hair, black skin, and red eyes among millions of others. Her faer notwithstanding, magic could only get you so far. And as to his other concerns? Well, when she didn't answer that first questions, he asked her to avoid confrontation, as if that was an actual option available to them. Liora had to take a deep breath and reign in her disgust, making him wait a considerable amount of time before she finally relaxed in her saddle. She folded her hands over the horn, gripping it tightly to restrain the urge to reach out and slap the stupid notions out of his head. Now there's a thought, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips as her perspective of their little situation changed. Maybe slapping the stupid out of him wasn't the best course of action. It was going to be a damnably long journey, and she was sure to get bored when there was nothing to fight or fuck to pass the time. Maybe warping the chaste little priest's world would keep her entertained. The arguments, at least, might provide her a good laugh. And, possibly, watching him come to terms with how pointless his faith really was would be a special treat indeed. Siyo... ah, yes, Liora addressed him once she had made her decision. I wouldn't have weapons if there wasn't going to be danger ahead of us, iblith. And, to the other, her voice trailed off as she considered her words. It would likely be important later when he screeched about how she'd promised, how she'd agreed, and she'd have to correct him. If it makes your delicate sensibilities feel better, I will not go out of my way to find confrontation. Not that she would need to, anyway. Between them and their destination would be plenty of animals that could kill them in their sleep, barbarians in the plains, highwaymen along the main roads, bandits, the slant-eyed woodland sprites with long ears, and a slew of regular people that might want to try to kill her just because she was a Drow. Not that she blamed them, she was just as apt to kill any Drow she met as they all were. Her funny little priest was just the most recent fool to trust that she wouldn't kill him herself in due time. Ah, and I am not your guide, iblith, she went on as the great city slowly grew distant behind them. I'm not taking you on a tour, or a holiday. I am here to kill the things that are going to want to kill you. Of course, if that offends your faith, well, I could always just let them kill you and then go along my way. Of course, that means your Queen will die from the curse. And the Drow that cast that curse, you will have to kill them, too. Does your god allow that, or will you be forever tarnished by such a disgusting act? Maybe that was laying things on a little thick, but she wanted to gauge just how faithful the little priest was. She'd met a few that would fall into frothing fits over such simple contradictions, but they were usually the lowest of their kind, those that protested and boasted a faith that wasn't really their own. Was he one of them, or a true believer that would rationalize the mind of his unknowable god into something that protected his small-minded world view? She waited to find out with bated breath.