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Re: Trapped in the Underdark - In Character
Dasyra
Everfrost
Tag: Lyra
Allowing herself to be dragged through the freezing halls by the eager zombie girl, Dasyra nodded her understanding to the first room.
"Ah, this is your room then. That's good. It seems nice."
She then looked at laboratory door and touched the ice on it.
"Frozen. Hmm. I guess I'll visit it later when I have something to melt this ice away. I'm sure there's all sorts of interesting things in there. Thanks for showing me."
She didn't want the zombie girl to feel too embarrassed about leading her to a blocked doorway. She wondered if Ventus was knowledgeable in alchemy, or if this was some other sort of laboratory - and perhaps if there were other persons here that used this place.
The last room that Lyra led her to was of interest to the elven ranger. The commander's room - this must have been Ventus' room. But if these rooms were labeled in elvish fashion, did that mean that Everfrost had been an elven outpost this deep underground? She'd never heard of high elves doing such a thing, even in all her years.
"So dusty," she observed. "She's not been here for sometime. I imagine it's because she doesn't like being reminded of the past. She was a champion of my people, a woman with a title like hers would have had a lot of weight and expectation on her shoulders. Something bad must have happened for her to have reacted like this."
Dasyra wiped dust away to reveal the inscription on the portrait. "Ventus Darkbane, protector... saviour from the unliving plague. So she was a sworn defender against the undead... like me." She turned to Lyra. "No offense. You seem nice enough. And apparently, I'm slated to join your ranks, if the mistress has her way."
The harp began to play and the sad elven music hauntingly filled the halls.
"Beautiful and sad, it makes me miss my homeland even more. Perhaps I should clean this place up."
As an elf, Dasyra did not have the urge to sleep, so while the rest of the fortress drifted off, she set about setting things aright in the commander's room. She found a broom that she had been using before and began to dust and sweep everything that she could, taking care not to ruin anything more than age and - she suspected - Ventus had already done. Having done this, she felt the need to then enter her trance. She meditated for four hours and, once rejuvenated, continued with her self-appointed cleaning duties. She beat out the dust from the covers and sheets, or slated them to be thrown out if they were beyond further use.
"Hrmm. Maybe I can arrange to get some better furnishings at some point." She mused. She didn't know why, but she wanted to restore Ventus' pride in the good parts of her past. She was someone to be proud of, as a living elf, and now that another high elf was here who could understand what she had meant to the eldest people, she was determined to make the death knight reconsider an alternative to everlasting death.
"At the very least, maybe it'll help you shrug off that big ol' chip on your shoulder," Dasyra murmured as she cleaned.
During her trance and as she worked, the elf pondered what she knew of the history of her people, particularly around 600 years ago and the unliving plagues. She wanted to see if she knew what had happened at that point, and maybe further identify her mistress' past.
Dasyra
Everfrost
Tag: Lyra
Allowing herself to be dragged through the freezing halls by the eager zombie girl, Dasyra nodded her understanding to the first room.
"Ah, this is your room then. That's good. It seems nice."
She then looked at laboratory door and touched the ice on it.
"Frozen. Hmm. I guess I'll visit it later when I have something to melt this ice away. I'm sure there's all sorts of interesting things in there. Thanks for showing me."
She didn't want the zombie girl to feel too embarrassed about leading her to a blocked doorway. She wondered if Ventus was knowledgeable in alchemy, or if this was some other sort of laboratory - and perhaps if there were other persons here that used this place.
The last room that Lyra led her to was of interest to the elven ranger. The commander's room - this must have been Ventus' room. But if these rooms were labeled in elvish fashion, did that mean that Everfrost had been an elven outpost this deep underground? She'd never heard of high elves doing such a thing, even in all her years.
"So dusty," she observed. "She's not been here for sometime. I imagine it's because she doesn't like being reminded of the past. She was a champion of my people, a woman with a title like hers would have had a lot of weight and expectation on her shoulders. Something bad must have happened for her to have reacted like this."
Dasyra wiped dust away to reveal the inscription on the portrait. "Ventus Darkbane, protector... saviour from the unliving plague. So she was a sworn defender against the undead... like me." She turned to Lyra. "No offense. You seem nice enough. And apparently, I'm slated to join your ranks, if the mistress has her way."
The harp began to play and the sad elven music hauntingly filled the halls.
"Beautiful and sad, it makes me miss my homeland even more. Perhaps I should clean this place up."
As an elf, Dasyra did not have the urge to sleep, so while the rest of the fortress drifted off, she set about setting things aright in the commander's room. She found a broom that she had been using before and began to dust and sweep everything that she could, taking care not to ruin anything more than age and - she suspected - Ventus had already done. Having done this, she felt the need to then enter her trance. She meditated for four hours and, once rejuvenated, continued with her self-appointed cleaning duties. She beat out the dust from the covers and sheets, or slated them to be thrown out if they were beyond further use.
"Hrmm. Maybe I can arrange to get some better furnishings at some point." She mused. She didn't know why, but she wanted to restore Ventus' pride in the good parts of her past. She was someone to be proud of, as a living elf, and now that another high elf was here who could understand what she had meant to the eldest people, she was determined to make the death knight reconsider an alternative to everlasting death.
"At the very least, maybe it'll help you shrug off that big ol' chip on your shoulder," Dasyra murmured as she cleaned.
During her trance and as she worked, the elf pondered what she knew of the history of her people, particularly around 600 years ago and the unliving plagues. She wanted to see if she knew what had happened at that point, and maybe further identify her mistress' past.