Featured Roleplay: Vayond: The Shadowed Hunters

[Lady Courage]

As soon as the knife was withdrawn from it's throat, the shadow slithered away from Dalin's dark form. A gloved hand readjusted the hood and an unmistakeable laughing voice drifted from the black opening.

"My, you do have a flare for the dramatics, do you not? I rather believe a near neck slicing is a bit much." The hand paused, fingers lightly grasping the fabric. There was a momentary pause. "You needn't look at me that way; I am going nowhere." For a few seconds, utter silence reigned between the figures and not a muscle moved. The wind whistled amongst the branches and the boughs creaked softly. A flurry of leaves rushed by the booted feet and the drift caught at the corners of the two cloaks and sent them dancing.

The smaller, less violent figure broke the charged stillness with a soft laugh. "There has been an interesting development that no doubt you will appreciate: Lord Henrik's runaway daughter is traveling with us." There was another brief silence, which one can assume was filled with voiceless laughter. "She is exhausted and now ready to go back to her Father rather than run herself ragged in the countryside. I imagine her Father is terribly worried about her..." Another silence. "Anyway, we shall arrive in Dravon on Saturday night." Covered arms folded impertinently over the shadowed chest. "Is that soon enough for you, Dalin?"

((And with that we are BACK ONLINE, folks! ))

[lover of narnia]

The addition of Lord Henrik's daughter was, in reality, far from something Dalin appreciated. The presence of such a person would make extermination more difficult, since careful footing would have to be placed so that the runaway damsel was not harmed, but, instead, returned to her Father. Murdering a lord's daughter would not make the king any more hospitable, and Dalin was in no mind to have to listen to the royal person's threats and reprimands.

A low growl, barely audible, emanated as she spoke and he moved a hand, fingers wrapping around the pommel of his blade. Annoyance was clearly written upon his features, but these were concealed in the perpetual shadow cast by his cloak's hood. "That is soon enough."

This time it was his turn to lead the silence, wrestling it from the control of her careless laughter and binding it under the thick quiet that was his forever companion. He did not trust her. Not in the slightest. There relationship was not based upon trust. It was based upon the mutual acknowledgement that they could run circles around one another, tossing veiled insults, mildly threatening, and that in the end, as long as she was paid and he satisfied, nothing particularly violent would occur.

"Where are you currently camped?" Dalin's voice shattered their noiseless surroundings; noiseless excepting the gentle wind and the far off sounds that forever plagued the forest. His tone was low, and eyes trained constantly upon her.