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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
Collin's sudden jerk and haste to go pour the tea as well as the narrowing of Kat's eyes began to tell Kenosha a story, one that hinted that they were the right people to talk to if she wanted to know where Cammar had gone. Collin had dismissed himself from the conversation and, by extension, the decision of what to tell her. The high elf's green eyes affixed themselves to Katarina's. What else could she do? The woman's cold voice was as strong as practiced steel; she wielded it like a club instead of a rapier as some would. A small sigh escaped from her throat and her eyes lowered and closed for a second, a small smile crossing her lips momentarily before returning her gaze to the half-drow woman's hard face. I would give him these earrings and tell him the message that I was given by Narim for his ears alone. Then I would turn and leave. I have no need to do anything for him after that, my duty to a dead man discharged. Despite whatever impressions you have of me, my lady, I am bound in honor. Even were I to not find assistance in even a direction to go searching, I am honorbound to find him. However, should a person I meet along the way have more information about his whereabouts, I would not be forced to ask more people. Should he be in trouble with the law or... other difficulties, it might cause others to follow in my wake should I be asking so wide a trail if they know this drow. And that is the crux of the issue, is it not? She breathed softly for a moment before saying one last thing. And should I see this man in situations that are unwarranted and unmerited, I would be compelled to act on his behalf that justice may be satisfied.

Collin, cups filled with water, handed Kenosha her own and held out his wife's to her as well. The warmth tingled through the druid's fingers as she waited for the concoction to brew more fully, smelling the light, herby aroma as she held the cup towards her nose. The drow man's eyes searched Kat's face to determine what she was thinking. Kenosha didn't seem like a bad woman and the points she made were valid, but Collin could see the inverse could possibly be true as well. Was Cammar still afraid of all females or just those of the drow like Collin himself? Would he appreciate knowing that a lover was dead? Why had he left Narim then? Or had Narim left him instead? But it still seemed too strange that two people would be looking for the same man and come to them in the same day. It didn't seem like something that would be completely coincidental. There was no way! Right?


Nyre lay on the ground, the road dirt rough against her back even mildly cushioned by her cloak. Her eyes were hazy and she tried to shake it from them in order to function. The light was just enough to cause an interference with her vision as well. Too much sun with her face to the sky, her hair rolling across her face and shoulders like a pale silvery white cascade. The chant permeated her ears, the beat of a primordial drum, as old as time itself. Fight. Fight. Fight. It was the pulse of blood through her veins. It was the heavy stomp of her opponent's feet on the turf. The haze was slowly clearing from her vision, but she could feel the tense quality of the air as his warhammer began its descent. SHIT! The woman rolled for all she was worth. There was no sword in her hand. That shining piece of metal lay in the road on the opposite side of her opponent now. She had rolled to the wrong side. She lurched to her feet, wobbling, placing a hand on her forehead to fix the last bit of double vision she had gotten by falling so hard after being flung. Stupid mistake! Beginner's mistake! Nyre, you're smarter than that! But it was too late now.

The warhammer had hit down into the ground, a cloud of dust billowing up from the ground where he had struck. Rokus wiggled the weapon free, chortling deep in his throat. Not so tough, are you now, wench? His bloodshot olive colored eyes looked her over as she was beginning to come around again. Where's your sword, little bitch? You're not supposed to drop your sword in a fight. Some of the half orc's friends in the crowd laughed.

Nyre straightened herself, a wicked smile curved across her half feral face. You can only hurt something you can hit, jackass. And I don't think you're fast enough. Some others began laughing at Rokus's expense now. The half orc's face darkened, his upper lip raising to bare his teeth. He let loose a roar as his feet jumped into action, using his momentum to swing his hammer in a lateral move towards her midsection. It was unfortunate not to have a weapon. The drow realized that the ring of flesh around the two of them kept her from running away though that seemed to be cowardly, but it also limited her movements. Who knew if the crowd would catch hold of her and grasp her fast so that the beast of a man could rain blows upon her? It's what they would have done in the Underdark. If she moved closer, she was more likely to take damage, but she couldn't move away.

She stepped closer, but only one step. Her body was angled towards the hammer's head as it rushed towards her, her hands outstretched. The long handle of the thing settled into her grasp, her bones creaking with the force of it, her feet skidding through the dirt of the road as it pushed her towards the man's right side. Rokus didn't seem to be realizing what was happening, his face stuck in a premature expression of victory. Nyre swung loose, her hands raw, aching, and quite possibly fractured. She spun and ran to her weapon, grasping the cool hilt of her sword in her damaged hands. There was pain and lots of it, but she brushed it aside even as Rokus turned to see what had happened. She was fast and the pain she was in should have downed any lesser combatant. Yield, you knobby boned pigeon.

Nyre's mouth half smiled grimly, her eyes narrowed and vicious. By all means, you can yield any time, but I don't promise not to run you through, male. Rokus frowned and began to wind up again as Nyre began to think of a strategy to beat this obviously powerful monstrosity of a male. His strength alone could topple her, be perhaps she could outlast him?
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Into the Lighted Realm · City Randatria

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