July 6th, 2004
|mistressnelle||03:30 pm - A Leisurely Awakening|
Sorry Guys! Been busy busy busy! But today's my day off! Woohoo! Game on!
Carl, get ahold of me so we can finish the Meir/Bianca stuff! Even if we have to do it by phone, I can record it, and then post the end of it!
After a pleasant early morning sleep, the mannor begins to bustle. Food smells begin to waft through the hallways, servants and residents begin moving throught the under tunnels, and there is simply a intoxicating thrum of vitality that can be sensed from the very walls of this strange, strange place.
Laelith came down to the tavern's main room, a door appearing at her touch that hadn't been there earlier, the door, no doubt, leading to the vast city housed within and below this hilltop abode. Upon entering, she called awake the torches and light-globes that illuminated the forever dark room, the room that had indeed earned the tavern it's name. She was clothed in a gold-emboriderd shift of cerulean linnen, a rich gift of fabric brought to her by the Mistress at one point in time or another, and one of her favorite day-bound garments. Her dusty red hair was loose, and sapphire eyes lined with khol, a simple vanity she humored herself with. She called in a myriad of juices and the breakfast meal from the vast kitchens, pulling out pieces of fruits, breads, and pastry. Settling herself at one of the marble tables, she began to pick at her meal, wondering what the day would bring for her.
As the day breaks, Cirrac kisses Krystaviel's forehead before gently unspooning from her. Dressing quietly and opening a window, he uses a strong push of his wings to fly to the cottage's roof as the sun rises, and perches to watch the sunrise.
Catching the signs of acivity at the inn proper, he checks the area for any who might object to his presence, and then flies to the doorway, tucking his wings back beneath the cloak with a grimace before re-entering the halls.
Krystaviel stirs shortly after Cirrac has left their bed. She sits up and stretches, running a hand through her black and silver curls. She rises lazily and prepares a morning bath before, taking a walk down to the inn. She sinks into the warm salted water and sighs....
No one seems to take any notice of the gargoyle as he perches on the roof, but from this new vantage point, one can see that the mannor, which had looked no larger than normal from the front, is actually built into the hilldside, stretching for only the Mistress knows how long. One would bet, from the way the visible supports are laid, that the place has been developed downward as well.
The vista makes Cirrac take a surprised breath as he realizes just how large this place is. Taking a breath, he enters into the main room of the tavern with a bit of wide-eyed surprise. Nodding to Faelith, he blinks in a bit of surprise at the presence of the Gryphon.
Taking a small plate of breakfast for himself and Krystaviel, once she finishes her bath, he tries not to stare, but his eyes occasionally wander over at the new arrival. After all, if he could be so obvious, combined with the seeming lack of reaction from his flight...perhaps things would not be as bad here as he feared.
The tip of the Gryphon's tail twitches absently, and he cocks his head sideways at the passing man, his eyes moving up and down his figure, and then moving back towards the chained woman.
He stands up, clicks his beak once, and reaches out a talon towards the woman, lightly tracing the curves of her face with the sharp tip, watching as the color of her skin turns white with fear.
Frowning as the girl is examined, Cirrac's wings flutter, one slipping slightly off his shoulder before he returns it to a resting position again.
Krystaviel finished her bath, soothed by both the salted water and the warmth. She hurridly dressed, then slipping on her cloak, she stepped out into the morning sunshine, taking a deep breath in the morning air. The scents of breakfast led her to the tavern.
Once in, she draws the hood off her head, revealing her long, curly mane of silver streaked hair. She spots Cirrac immediately and walks over to him, stretching up to kiss his chin. "Good morning sweet."
Turning as she enters and walks over, Cirrac kisses her forehead, and then her lips. "Good morning, darling." He puts his hand over hers, and then waves to the plate he'd prepared. "Breakfast?"
Krystaviel chuckles and accepts the kiss to the forehead, then returns the good morning kiss to her lips warmly. She smiles at the plate he'd prepared, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you sweet, I think I will." Her soft, white skin almost has a silvery sheen to it and if one looks close, her fingers are delicately webbed. Her large eyes show almost no pupil...just the blue of midnight bleeding into black pupil...She is lovely in a dream-like sort of way.
Blushing a purple hue against his greyed skin, he smiles, and as he offers her a chair, looks back with some concern back towards Laelith. (OOC: Continued in the new post for today.)
The elf roused himself from the bed that he completely sank into, sitting up with a case of bedhead.
After a few long-lasting minutes of rolling about, he finally slipped from the bed and began a series of short exercises to get the circulation going. After a brief overlooking of his pack, he knelt before a shuttered window, light peeking through, lowered his head, and whispered prayers of the elves and of adventurers and of combat.
After Cleriden got dressed, he set his pack to the shoulder and wandered back towards (but not into, just yet) the main room of the inn. Hair was slicked and smoothed, now dressed in leather pants, golden belt complete with favors, short-sleeved red tunic with a black vest. Wandering through that maze wasn't so bad, during the day. After a long night's sleep. And a bath - luxurious bath.
((Yay, fun is here! Hope things are looking ok Nelle. Don't get too busy to forget all the fun stuff out there.))
As he moved through the halls, he was passed by servants moving in both directions, each one holding a little ball of light in their palm about the size of a golf ball, the only thing affording them light in this maze designed to trap such a thing far from the main room of the tavern.
A loud, ear-piercing screech is heard somewhere over the tavern, reverberating through the maze-like entrance, and the walls of the tavern itself.
The dark creature lands at the entrance of the maze, his glossy black chest feathers puffing out, ear tufts standing on edge. He clicks his black beak twice, dark-as-midnight eyes staring out in front of him. He digs his long fore-talons into the soft ground, ripping up the dirt, feeling the strength of the earth beneath him. His long, lion-like tail flicks back and forth, his massive black wings settling back on his cat-like haunches.
His talons let go of the dirt, as he steps inside the maze, making his way through the long corridors and into the tavern, where his black gaze lands on the chained women. His talons click on the hard floor, the sound quite loud in the silence of the tavern. He makes his way closer to the chained women, and stops.
He sits down on his haunches, and even sitting, the tip of his head reaches above the woman his gaze stops on. His tail wraps around his paws and talons, almost like a lazy housecat would be sitting.
Except the look in his eyes is anything other than lazy.
Laelith looks up as the gyphon enters, only a small bit of surprise rendering itself within her. She herself had never seen one of it's fellows within these walls, but she'd heard pleanty of the Mistress's stories of the gryphon-shifter Queen who used to frequent the mannor.
She watches him walk to the slave girls, and seeing his interest, she pipes up. "Good sir, a moment..." She rises, moving languidly toward him. "Do what you will, but the Mistress gently requests that you do nothing to the girls that we cant heal after you are finished. I know that may damper things a bit, but we do have plenty of forests in our lands, if a hunt and kill is what you are desireing."
Her smile is winning, yet she offers a quick prayer to Blake that she has not offended this magnificant creature. Her eyes drift to Cirrac as he prepares a plate of breakfast, offering him a smile as well.