Dalhar sighed. He stuck his sword in the dirt, and sat down, his legs crossed. Training his recruits had been tough work, and he had asked Ranewen's permission for several days away. He had come to the lake, having heard that a vicious creature kept people away. This would be the perfect place to contemplate his past without a disturbance.

His eyes slid closed, and his breathing slowed. His mind closed off, his senses still alert. He drifted away, fading back into his past, not even realizing it. His mind drifted, far away from the lake, not even realizing someone was approaching.

His eyes opened, but he wasn't looking at the lake, as he had been when he closed them. Instead, he was back in the Temple of Lolth in Menzoberranzan. Before him, stood...himself! He groaned. He did not want to relive this memory. Not now. In his hand was a small sacrificial dagger, and beside him stood his oldest sister, the Head Priestess of his house. On the altar before him, bound and gagged, lay his baby brother.

His sister's gaze went to him. His alternate self smiled grimly. The hand bearing the dagger came back, as he advanced on the altar. His eyes burned with fervency, and his vocals let out a short sinister laugh. The real Dalhar tried to turn away, but the memory was still burnt into his eyes. The dagger came down, and there was the sound of blood spilling.

Dalhar came to, sitting up, having fallen while he was in his memories. He groaned, and whirled to his feet when someone spoke.

The mist lay over the lake like an impenetrable fog, it seemed to have its own agenda and would not move just for anyone. If one wanted to go through without getting wet, they would not be able to. Though the moisture may become annoying at times, some loved it. Meera was one of those people. She felt in her element within this mist and by this lake. She felt almost omnipotent even though she knew that she was far from it. Her features gathered the mist as she walked along. The moisture condensed on her hands, forming little droplets. The ground was equally moist and every step she took made a soft squishing sound. It was not quite wet enough to be mud. It was more spongy. Meera's soft golden emerald gaze drifted along ahead of her, not able to focus on anything in particular. It slowly shifted to the lake right beside her. Its unforgiving waters whispered of something beneath, but Meera was not frightened away. She was instead, more prepared for anything that may arise. Somewhat, Meera did not believe this thing would attack her. She had been here a few times before and not once had it shown itself. Her mind was smarter than that though, she would not underestimate it and be caught of guard. Even though you could not see through the waters, Meera still seemed to be trying. Her attempt rested unsuccessful.

The mist only cleared directly in front of her, so Meera could not see very far, but still, some sense told her that she was not alone. That sense did not give her a hint at wether it was a person or just a being, so she was wary in all directions. Suddenly, a sitting down figure apeared to be resting at the lake shore in front of her. Stopping, Meera contemplated what to do. He no doubt had heard her because she didn't try to mask her footsteps. Guessing that he knew she was there, Meera continued forwards. Before that though, she murmered the words to her spell to check what alignment he was. -Evil?- Meera thought. She would just have to be careful not to trust him. As she approached closer, it seemed as if he was asleep. Not wanting to wake him, she just stood there. When it appeared as if he was coming back to consciousness. Meera asked "are you okay sir?" -Allright, so it was a bad way to start a conversation, but what else was I to say? "Hey, I just realized your evil and I was making sure I could keep an eye on you,"? No, of course not!- Meera thought. Shaking her head at herself, Meera just awaited his response. Absentmindedly, she began to finger her sword that still sat in its scabbard. She hoped not to use it, but who knew. Hoping wasn't going to get her anywhere in this world. Whiping of her hands on her pants, she hoped to get away any mosture that could possibly disable her from fighting as well as she might have if she were not wet. Meera found herself evaluating everything. From fighting, to talking, to just plain sitting here. What was wrong with her? Was she becoming paranoid?

Dalhar heaved a sigh. The woman had no weapons. Of course, there was always the chance that she was a sorceress, but he didn't care. He nodded. "Aye. I'm quite well. Just... remembering things I'd rather not.” He shook his head. He looked up, examining the woman closely. Her bronze skin startled him. She’s infused, he thought. And not demonic, either. Wonderful. Just what I needed. A goody-goody. He sighed, his hand going to his scimitar on his waist.

He continued to examine the woman, trying to pick up as much as he could. Her hair was light brown, except for one dark blonde piece at the front. Her eyes were yellowish green, and there was something about her that made him extremely nervous. She was part Sylvan, that much was obvious. And her wings made him wonder if perhaps, not only was she infused, but if she didn’t also have some angelic blood in her. After all, that was the only way to have wings other than infusion. Or, at least, the only way that he knew of. Of course, no infusion that he knew of gave wings that were like crystal. He sighed. “Forgive me. I am Dalhar Vharc. As is obvious, I am a Drow.” He bowed, keeping his hand on the hilt of his scimitar.

Meera nodded as he explained his reason for being asleep. What he was going through was something that she could identify with particularly well. Many times she had fallen into deep thought and memories had resurfaced that she had tried hard to forget. Sometimes she even found herself avoiding all absentminded times and sleeping. It really turned out bad for her own mental and physical health so she had learned to block her mind from them. They still showed themselves, but now she had the emotional capacity to deal with them. Concentrating once again on him, her golden emerald eyes caught his slight shift of hand to his sword. He seemed nice enough at first sight, but she knew otherwise and he made seemingly an unintentional agressive move. To be ready, Meera moved her own hand to her water sword that rested in its scabbard at her hip. Her position shifted from that of a relaxed one to a fighting position. Her legs were spread shoulder width for stability, and her hand still rested on her sword comfortingly.

At his introduction of his name, she gave him a smile. It was in fact quite obvious that he was a drow. That fact brought her mind back to her own physical features. Upon thinking of them, she realized that unintentionally, when she had seen him move his hand to his sword, she had flexed out her wings. Bringing them back in she said "I'm Meera. Good to meet you Dalhar." She found the conversation between them to be full of tension. At least on her side. It was akward because she knew that he was evil and he probably knew that she was good. It was hard not to know that about her. People seemed to see that light radiated off of her. She couldn't find it, but she had to believe what people said because it was backed up by many. At his bow, she dipped her own head and bent her knees into a half curtsy. She didn't have a skirt or dress on, but she figured that her hands could sway out anyways without anything to hold onto. Looking back up at him, she appraised his features and waited to see if he would prove to go through with any of his obvious thoughts about fighting.

Dalhar nodded, willing his hand away from his scimitar when he saw her move her hand to her sword. He smiled. “Sorry if I seem a little nervous. I’ve learned not to trust anyone here. After all, surfacers don’t take too kindly to Drow.” He laughed. “You can’t really blame them, now can you?” he asked, humor in his voice. “After all, we are the scourge of the Underdark. Of course, there are some, such as Drizzt Do’Urden, that aren’t evil. But they are few and far between. Most of us are evil, or at least not good.”

He gave a sinister chuckle. “Needless to say, I am part of the first group, as I’m sure you can tell, thanks to your own infusion.” This last bit he said with obvious distaste in his voice. Since he had already made plans for a demonic infusion for himself, he was already sworn enemies with anyone with a good infusion.

However, as much as he distrusted her, he kept his hand away from his scimitar. So far, she hadn’t shown any signs of hostility. So neither would he, until he had a very good reason to. He turned back to the lake, kneeling once more. “Feel free to join me if you wish.”

Meera noted him moving his hand away from his weapon. She thought about it for a second, but eventually moved her own hand away. Even if she did not believe he would attack her, she still wanted to be ready. Feeling safe with her knowledge of spells, she readied herself with one just in case. Giving him an amused half smile, she listened partially to his small history lesson on the drow race. Her attention was also focused on the depths of the lake. She could have sworn that something had moved beneath the surface, a bubble had popped and there was no mistaking that sound. Her eyes remained on the man, but her ears were perfectly tuned not only to his voice, but more intently on the dark foreboding lake. Not hearing anything else, her attention shifted more intently on the man now. She still was watchful of any movements or sounds coming from the waters, but nothing appeared to be coming back. Her ears caught the end of his talking, that he was supposedly part of the first group. She didn't really know what that meant, but she nodded anyways. She also caught the fact that he noted her infusement.

Seeing him kneel and tell her that she could do the same, Meera thought for a second. Her hesitation was mainly for anticipating anything he could do in her more vulnerable position. Knowing still that she could cast a spell, she complied and sat down next to him. Deciding upon asking the obvious question, Meera asked "did you see anything in the lake when you came here?" That was most likely not the reason the man had come here in the first place, nor was it Meera's. She was only curious about the thing that supposedly lurked beneath the surface. It had always intrigued her, the unknown. Some said that the curiousity that natually came with the people who explored was what got them killed, but Meera didn't think so. It hadn't happened to her....yet.

Dalhar’s ears twitched when the bubble popped. But his ears were far more acute than hers, and he heard nothing moving. Probably just a random bubble. He nodded when she knelt as well. He still didn’t trust her, as a result of the fact that she was a celestial infused, but at least now, if it came down to a fight, the two would be on fairly even footing. “No. I didn’t see anything. I think that the rumors of something in the lake are just stories told to children to keep them out of here. After all, with all the mist here, it would be very easy to get lost unless you know what you are doing.” He took a deep breath, sliding his eyes shut once more.

Again there was a shift in the lighting. This time, when his eyes opened, rather than being in the temple, he was in the sparring room of Melee-Magthere. Again, he saw himself, but this time, rather than a member of his family, it was an old friend. His really body let out a pained gasp as he realized what memory he was now being forced to relive. In the memory, rather than taking one of the wooden scimitars he normally chose, he drew the true scimitar on the wall, and squared off. A furious fight ensued, Dalhar not even breaking a sweat, ending in Dalhar flipping over his opponent, and making a blind stab behind his back. His opponent jerked, inhaling sharply, as the blade penetrated his chest, stabbing through his heart. Again, the sound of blood splashing was the last sensation to come to him before he came back to the present again, once more face down on the ground.

Meera's gaze was drawn towards the lake as the mist floated above it. She was in her element and might as well have created a whirlpool to see into the depths of the water. That was not the way she wanted to meet the creature though...if there was one. Her mind travelled to her spells. Remembering an item that she recently acquired, Meera's eyes brightened. She had momentarily forgotten about the man. That could have been fatal if he had been agressive. Looking at him, she realize he seemed deep in thought. Not wanting to disrupt him, Meera slipped on her ring and stood up once more. Stepping hesitantly onto the lake, she realized that the powers the ring held were true. She couold walk on water! With a joyous smile, she ran out to the middle of the lake. Looking into its depths, she could see a few outlined shapes that were easily identified as fishes. That was not her goal though, so she ignored their wonder. Her gaze searched for a larger being within the waters. Wondering if she might have drawn it out by bringing herself to the middle of the lake, she began to get a little nervous.

Looking towards the shore, she saw the man fall forwards to the ground with a thump. Meera, being the kind of person she was, momentarily forgot about his alignment and set back across the lake towards him. Upon reaching him,she became concerned and reached her hand out to help lift the man upright again. Not knowing what had happened was torture. She didn't know how she could help right now. Still standing on the water, she felt safe if he was indeed only doing this to trick her into a vulnerable position. It had worked...somewhat..but Meera was still aware of the fact that there were always traitors in the her midst. Uncertainly, she said "Are you okay?"

Dalhar emitted a groan as he sat upright with help from the woman. "Yes, I'm... I'm fine. Just... another memory I would rather had stayed forgotten." He stood once more. "You might not want to go out onto that lake. Just in case there is something in it."

He shook his head, knowing that would do him no good, but wanting to at least clear the cobwebs. But as he did so, something occurred to him. He rapidly backed away from the woman. "You're a celestial, aren't you?" he fumed. "And yet you are being kind to me? Why? What do you want from me? After all, I AM Barbazu-infused. That's what I came here for, was to speak to 'my' demon." He shook his head, backing toward the tree where he had hidden his glaive.

His hands twitched nervously, and his eyes darted around the clearing. There was no way that this celestial had come here alone. There had to be others, the only question was, where were they? His hand came to rest on the tree, and he grew more confident. So long as he had his glaive, he was safe. His black eyes narrowed. There was no possible reason why this celestial would be kind to him. Surely she had known from the moment she saw him that he was infused.