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[mamori]

Mamori leaned against the cavern's wall, listening carefully to Shiva's tale. To bring a mortal back to life is a dangerous business. Thinking back to his own world, mamori remembered a certain plant which was able to produce crystals of great value, their unique structure enabling a skilled shaman to perform powerful healing spells, as well as restore or grant mystical abilities.

There had also been a rumor that by combining the power of 12 pure crystals, the plant's protector would be capable of restoring the dead to life. However, since on average only one stone of said quality was produced every 10 years or so, it had never been tested. at least not that mamori had been informed of.

Most other methods Mamori had studied left the body in a state of continuos decay, or the simple reanimation of the vessel. But to bring someone back from the other side, there was only one other way he had heard of. These were powerful magicks, and only the most barbaric beings would consider the ritual needed.

Mamori was just happy to be among those who, even if the vessel lost, could return to the physical plane with time, though undoubtedly changed. His kitsune soul enabling him to travel across both the mortal and spirit realms.

As shiva continued, mamori took notice of an ice elf passing by the chamber's entrance, a strange feeling coming over the nogitsune. He would have investigated, had he not noticed the ice queen's guards head towards the kitchen. "fool must be up to something."

looking through the crowd, mamori caught site of his fellow cult members, all listening intently to the story. he also caught site of two dark elves, presumably, one was Aero. "I'll need to keep an eye on those two."

[mamori]

looking at the strange creature, Mamori picks up the note and reads it to himself. "unspeakable one?"

again looking over creature, Mamori removes the whistle and places it within his robes. "very well then, ill have to meet with this person as soon as the ball has concluded."

quickly leading the byakhee to where the other creatures which had brung the other guests were being taken care of, Mamori couldn't help but be somewhat weary of the reason this person was doing this, and how they knew he was pursuing Aero.

Re-entering the ball, Mamori arrived just as Shiva had begun to speak once more.

[Kayla]

Kayla watched as graceful couples moved elegantly around the cold floor in rhythmic pattern to the melodic music of the orchestra. It was almost an ethereal scene as the ladies were led by gentlemen partners in age old ritual that she could neither understand nor hope to join. Sure Luaq had taught her the basics of this dance and others, but in her mind’s eye, she could see herself a note of discord in the perfect composition. Thus quietly, she waited, aside from the dancers and the small gatherings of cult members as alliances were formed, strengthened or broken within webs of careful words or careless actions.

She assumed Seraphim was among them, making the presence of the Knight’s felt in his way as she faded, she privately hoped, into the background. After awaiting the orders of their Captain, they had finally departed for Queen Shiva’s grand ball together, leaving the Captain behind. Her mind wandered back a few hours and back to the Temple.

She had been late, she had thought, arriving there beyond the hour she had promised to meet the Captain and Seraphim in the foyer of the Knights Quarters. Kayla had appeared in her rooms, flushed and out of breath. Fortunately the dress she was to wear was waiting for her upon her undisturbed bed.

As was a woman’s prerogative, Kayla had decided she could not find what she truly wanted to wear at the Ball and so had gone shopping. She had found the perfect dress… or at least, she sighed it would be perfect if it was not to be displayed on dark elf warrior mage who lacked elegant form or gracious figure to wear it to it’s best.

The under-dress was of ivory silk, moon birds delicately embroidered upon it in the same colour. It tightly embraced her chest and waist before falling like liquid pearl to her ankles. The over-dress, which was securely laced down her spine in lilac ribbon, was a deep amethyst purple. Also in silk, with wide straps covering skin between her shoulders and collarbone, it flowed over the ivory revealing a form fitting bodice and full skirt that split beneath her waist to part widely and reveal the pale skirt beneath. Her shoulders remained bare, but upon her upper arms, attached to the bodice, sleeves began that swept down her slender arms pinned by broaches rather than thread. The ribbon that was tied at the base of her spine, fell in two long lengths to the base of her dress. Upon the side panels of the bodice, a network of tiny crystals glittered in the candlelight. There was a slight amendment about the dress that she had argued over with the tailor, for without armour and weapon she would have felt as naked as if she wore nothing. And so to the far side of the underskirt was a slit that spread from ankle to thigh, so a quick brush of her skirts would reveal a short, pointed sword strapped to her leg. And yet it was unobservable to any who admired her dress.

About her waist she had clasped a belt, which followed the top line of her skirt, of platinum with amethysts embedded in the metal. A matching circlet adorned her brow and two amethyst earrings sparkled within her lobes. The only item that perhaps was questionable that she wore, was a platinum chain and pendant about her neck, which dipped beneath the fabric of her bodice and nestled against her skin above her breasts. Her colourless hair had remained wild and free about her shoulders, for she had, had no time to pin it up. After throwing about her shoulders a fur-lined hooded cloak, she had descended to meet who awaited her.

An icy breeze brought her back suddenly to the present. The cavern was now warm with bodies, yet still an occasional white wind caressed the skin of the guests with it’s bitter touch.

Kayla had never felt so out of place and yet worse, would she one day soon find herself in such a position as their gracious hostess, the Queen Shiva, though to a smaller audience in the future? Though she could pray it would not be so, and wryly she considered that at least one who heard her prayers would not only ignore them but go out of her way to ensure the day would come, she knew her role within her house would one day bring her to such an eventuality. A sigh escaped her lips, one of reluctant acceptance.

As she turned to admire the dancers once more and more so the varied and glorious gowns of the stunning women who wore them, she noticed a man walking through the elegant clique. Couples parted to allow him through, frowning and glancing at him with disapproving stares as he interrupted their careful steps to the music. Yet he seemed neither sorry nor concerned of what they thought. He continued on his path, disrupting the ritual, one goal in mind and with sudden clarity, she realised he was moving towards her. Like a deer staring at the lethal end of a hunter’s arrow, she felt frozen, the chill in the air nothing compared to the intense gaze upon her. Her eyes widened as his dark slender fingers reached towards her, beckoning her.

Her lips parted to protest, but he placed one finger upon them and shook his head. Taking her hand in his, he led her onto the dance floor, his commanding presence parting the way for them to take their place in the formation, where they waited with the other couples for the next dance to commence. The orchestra began to play, but the music was drowned out in Kayla’s ears by the loud beating of her racing heart and the whirling thoughts in her head.

The dancers began to move and Kayla felt her mysterious partner begin to lead her. Her soft lavender eyes met his single ameythyst one for the other was covered by a silver cloth patch.

The two elves blended perfectly into the refined motions of the dance. Men led their partners with practice, confidence or ease. The ladies, many having seldom relented to being at the mercy of another, allowed themselves to be led in beautiful harmony, each footstep delicate, each twirl with grace. Kayla felt caught in a dream not of her own making, unable to tear her gaze from his, unable to free herself dream the spell he seemed to have woven about her. And yet though a persistence small voice in her mind screamed at her to flee, she found herself trusting this man’s lead regardless.

And then the perfect moment ended as another dark elf male broke the display, stepping to one side of Kayla’s nameless partner and whispered urgently to him. He nodded sharply in return, then turned back to the drow Knight he held. He said nothing, but kissed her hand, sending a shiver down her spine before melting away into the crowds. Breathless, she stared after him for a second, before retreating from the dance floor.

[mamori]

Watching the drow he had assumed was Aero cross the room to meet with the previous host of the chaos lord he has fought not too long ago, mamori was a bit surprised to see her again. the last time she was equally unaware of his presence. soon however, another drow had pulled him away. strolling past kayla, mamori whispered “don’t become too attachedâ€

[mamori]

Finally returning to the ball, Mamori makes some slight adjustments to his hastily re-adorned robes. Expecting to find the ball in mid song, he instead found it in quite a bit of disarray, including a dead ice ogre, and several of the cavern’s icicles laying upon the dance floor.

“well what happened here i wonder..’

moving closer to Aero and his drow companion, Mamori could help but feel a bit disappointed, after all, HE had intended to kill the Drow prince, and by the look of things, someone may have beat him too it, or at least would take some of the challenge out of any attempts. Though, peering at Aero’s companion, he may have a challenge yet...

[Kayla]

The words upon the strange individual pierced through the dazed state that had descended upon her whilst gazing into the lone eye of a drow stranger as he led her to dance. Softly spoken they were as effective as an icy shower and caused her ebon-flesh to pucker as so. Lavender eyes beheld the speak as he drifted off into the crowds, widening as broken memories revealed to her who he was.

He looked different, it was true from when they had fought, she as the unwilling puppet of a being beyond her understanding and he, perhaps as just one who had stepped into her path and had refused the subtle touch of the mind demanding submittance or death of him. She wondered what he wanted and what exactly had he meant by his words. Obviously they were a warning, but a warning to whom? Was he or someone else meaning harm to her?... or to the one with whom she had danced?

Her wide eyes glanced around for the prasmatice one-eyed drow, for Seraphim her good friend, or even for the speaker himself in order to ask the truth behind his words. She saw none of these, so wandered without aim, weaving between nobles and warriors alike, none of who she recognised even in the vaguest of memories.

The crowd thickened before her, only disappaiting momentarily as a flash of sharp thin metal came to close for the gatherer's comfort. She used that brief moment to slip her slender frame through the unyielding mass. And then she saw that these people were surrounding two battling drow, one, she realised, was the unknown man, who had disrupted the dance between herself and 'One-Eye'. A frown descended as she wondered where One-Eye was now? Her answer lay to one side close by, crimson blood oozing through his ashen fingers as they clutched his chest.

Her feet took off before she could frame thought, slipping around the two fighters and to the dying dark elven man. She knelt beside him, unconciously brushing her loose hair behind her upswept ears, before she placed her hands just above his wound and cast her healing spell.

Almost instinctively she knew it had done little, but given One-Eye but a breath or two more of life. Still, she tried once more, pauring more of her will into the spell, but before the last word trailed from her lips, with the thunderous clash of steel peeling to one side, someone pushed into her. Her hands fell upon One-Eye's and upon his open wound. She felt drawn into the spell, drawn in by her own will, sliding with the magic into the wound. Distantly she noted how icy cold the blood upon her hands was, but as she sent her thought forth saw that the froaen death had not yet reached his slowly beating heart.

Warm him, she thought instinctively, heat his blood.
But too much could kill him, she replied to herself.
He is dying regardless, do nothing he will die for certain, do something he could die, but it is not guarenteed.

Slowly her magics sent a weak blaze through his body, but the wintery poison swept through more rapidly that the fires could manage. The flames became warmer, yellow and bright to her senses, enough to hold at bay the chill toxin but for a moment.

Do something quick, he is about to draw his last breath.

And then she risked his life with a thought, sending a last wave, an inferno of burning heat through his blood vessels, his temperature soaring to a point where she thought her gamble had surely caused his death. However the dire melted the deadly icicles in and around his heart and slowly it began to beat once more, gaining rhythm at a steady pace.

Drawing deeply air into her own lungs, Kayla came back to herself, whilst sending a final sweep of healing into him, cleansing him of the last of the poison and sealing his bloody wound. Without ceremony, she collapsed, exhausted beyond reason, onto the One-Eyed Drow.