Rain storms used to be feared by all... in simplar times it was believed the God's were coarse with the mortals, and sent crashing thunder and blinding light to their realm, as a warning of future disastors to come... People believed it was their own arrogence that brought these storms, many killed themselves in the greatest of winds merely to afraid to anticipate the frights to come... These beliefs died thousands of years ago, although it was still believed by many that the God's did infact cause the rain... however it was not such a horrendous omen now, rather a gift to make the crops grow and wash away the blood of mortal battle.
The wind blew steadily, and the rain came in waves from the darkened skies, the stars illuminating the crooked trees near the graveyard. It was where she had been most of the day, examining grave after grave, thousands upon thousands of resting bodies 'neath the soil, all nameless as their stones faded with their memories...
When a child, her mother had told her fables of the common tree Weeping Willows...
Flash Back
"The trees... they look ill... are they dying mother?" The fading voice of youth, a childs face consumed by worry, and a pale hand pointing towards a willow in the yard.
"No no dear... they are merely hunched by the weight of the rains. You see my child, they are called Weeping Willows... for when it rains, it is they who stand tall in the winds, allowing the God's to harvest their water to bring growth to the crops, and puddles for the children to play in, and water to our people to drink... They are not sad for what they do, they are happy, and bend towards the ground in effort to embrace the grasses that they helped to grow... Such is one of the many cycles of life."
Flash
A stupid story... hardly believable even to a five year old. But none-the-less, it was an explination for not why the rain fell, but how it fell... there was a certain mystery to it, something it would take a millenium to discover.
Green eyes scanned the outside of the Cathedral, cloak wrapped around her limbs in desperation for warmth, even this rickety old place seemed like a safe haven from the storm... at least for now...
Taking long strides towards the door, the massive oaken planks swung open with great force, causing a cliche nest of bats to spring free of their dark perches, out into the stormy night, which didn't seem like a better alternative...
It appeared abandoned, but near the edge of the room a fireplace with old, rotten wood perfect for burning... It didn't take much to get the fire started, the logs igniting in a blazing aura of reds, yellows, and oranges, even the occasional blue spark shot out of the stone cave.
Removing the cloak which had previously been her only means of protection, it seemed now more a heavy burden than it did dry warmth. Laying the torn old thing across the mantle to dry, she took a seat next to it, on the small pedastal just infront of the fire, black hair hanging in thick locks into her eyes and about her face and shoulders. Her hands found her upper arms, folding inward against the cold, weapons discarded to the floor but near enough if needed they were useful...
Being what she was... and being who she was, her own pesonality did not show very often. More times than not she was becoming a fabricated person that allowed her to do her job more effectively, becoming someone else was sort of like becoming detatched of ones own emotions... and therefore losing all threat of backing down... However it was with some relctance she allowed her true self to show, abnormally vulernable to the cold sting of the rain, skin lined with goosebumps, and hair matted and ungroomed to her head. Listening only to the sound of her own breathing, and the echoing drops of the storm outside....
The wind beat against Azerous' body as the rain whipped across his face. Sitting under one of the tall weeping willows he balanced one of his daggers on his finger...Looking up he noticed some movement by the graves. Adjusting the dagger in his hand Azerous began to creep forward...As he got closer and closer the drow was abel to make out the shape of a female. He stood behind a tree, and watched as she made her way by into the building...The wind was getting stronger and the rain was beginning to numb his hands and face. Azerous began to make his way towards the building...When he got up to the big door he peeked in...Scarlet? Is that you? He thought...Azerous had met the woman once before one night in a tavern. He slipped his dagger back where it went, then slowly made his way in...Being cautious not to make any noise and disturb her...
Smiling Azerous began to cast a spell transforming himself into a dog...He began to make his way over toward Scarlet. He faked a limp and started to whimper...As he got to her side...He began to nudge his head up under her arm...
The fire was enigmatic, staring eyes peering into its depths, hoping to capture the single most important element to its mystery. A single breed of wood producing thousands of different colors. A warm array of reds and oranges, and the cool hues of blues and greens illuminated the room as best a single fire could. A preechers podium came into view, littered with books and papers, scribbled notes of speeches to give... or had been given.
It took all the strength she had to tear her eyes away from the flames, to explore motionlessly the room she fell captive to. Her mind in utter space, empty and lacking all concious rational thought. Exhaustion had merely taken her to a quieter place, where her mind could not torment her in her conciousness.
In such a state she did not notice the door nudge open, and the medium sized dog slip through a crack in the door. Snapping back to reality by means of a cold wet nose against her arm she was to far gone to jump and recoil, merely she investigated by shifting her gaze to her new canine friend.
If she had the strength to smile she would have, but the warmth of the fire on her back, and bitter cold nights air was enough to put her in a neutral state of sleep deprived relaxation. Mustering all she could she shifted her position back from the dog, just to gain proper distance to investigate this fellow breathing being. Her eyes falling onto his paw in the air, her lips puckering slightly in disapproval.
Leaning down and grasping very gently the small wounded paw she met the eyes of the beast, her own soft with compassion. "Broken?" She muttered, feeling gently for misplaced bones. Her voice was soft and somewhat emotionless, as if examining a patient rather than doing a sympathetic necropsy on the animal.
Letting the paw down she shifted again, sitting on her knees with her hands resting in her lap. "Does it hurt?" She asked in a low tone, showing the most emotion she had of this night. Concern written mildly upon her features, her eyes sunken with sympathy and a stranger depiction... regret. Searching the eyes of the canine she tried her best to read him, her skills with animals low however... and it was difficult to decifer whether or not he was in need of aid... there wasn't much she could do, she was no mage, at most she could make a rugged splint, bearly enough to cure anything, but effective enough to ease some of the pain...
Azerous continued to lay there while he watched Scarlet...He turned towards the fire and watched the embers dance across the flaming logs. Azerous limped over to the fire and curled up in a ball...Laying his head down onto his paws the drow began to cast telepathic bond...
Azerous felt the link connect...No it doesn't hurt, he said head ing back outside and slipping messily into his clothes...As he came back in he began to transfor from dog back to drow. When he finally turned back he was sitting in a chair across the room, staring at Scarlet.
Gripping ahold of his shirt he wrung it out, the water dripped to the floor forming a little puddle...Walking over to the fire he sat down, letting the heat envelope his body in a soothing grasp...Breaking the telepathic bond he looked Scarlet's way...So...How have you been since we last met?
As he sat there waiting for a reply he began to remember their first meeting...At a taver in the middle of the night he saw a new face, so he thought he would go say hi...Then a foolish drunk decided to pick a fight with Azerous...It eneded up three hurting men and a broken bottle of whiskey...To think, the bartender hadn't even known about that bottle! Azerous thought...