Her head tilted to one side in curiosity, it wasn't very often that someone would approach a drow and ask for help.  It was possible to Moliira that Blue might be even more naive than the young Kouen.  "Not rude, though rather uncommon in my case.  Most would not put any trust into a drow, especially one they do not know.  But my name is Moliira.  And I am most certainly not 'good people'.  That being said, I am not as evil as most of my kin though," the drow said with a grin.  But it was better to clear up any misconceptions sooner rather than later. 

Nodding at the mention of the tavern, it seemed as good of an option as any.  The one here appeared to be run by a dwarven male, who narrowed his eyes at Moliira as she entered.  But he said nothing, and the drow found a table further back in a corner.  that would be safe enough for conversation.  Choosing to sit with her back to a wall, it was a small thing for most, but it did allow Moliira to watch the rest of the tavern for anything else that might happen. 

When the bar maid came around, Moliira spoke a quick order in the Dwarven tongue, making her blink in surprise.  But she nodded, and hurried off after checking if the others wanted anything to drink.  "I do not drink down here.  But the dwarves brew a fine tea, and I prefer that for conversation.  Such as ones about items stolen," Moliira said, looking to Blue for him to explain.  It was quite possible she might help in this situation, but she did want to know more first.

Since Blue came to this world just a month ago he had little knowledge about the social norms and the people of Revaliir. However he had experienced the treacherous nature of the drows. However seeing this one save what Blue perceived to be a total stranger to the dark elf. He didn't know that the drow was acquaintance of the boys father. " You just saved that boys life without hesitation, you don't seem like 'bad people'  either", he told her with a smile. " Moliira, fitting name for a huntress. Your parents must have had high expectations for you, naming you after the storm wolf herself.". Blue felt sorry for Moliira. It must be tough to live in a reality where even oneself thought ones people to be evil.

As they walked into the bar, blue took note of the hostility in the eyes of the innkeeper. He added "resentment of drows" to the list of what he knew about dwarves. The huntress found a table near the back of the tavern. The inn was filled with loud and drunk dwarves, and the place smelled of spilled mead. When the barmaid came the table, Moliira a said something in the Dwarven tongue. The barmaid turned to him, and he pointed towards a small empty tankard sitting on a empty table. " A small tankard of beer please", he said in Adelunian hoping the dwarf would understand. Back in a Adeluna, the father of the family he had stayed with had told him they dwarves brewed exceptional ale.

Taking the huntresses hint, he began telling them about his offer. " I have a business proposition for you. I was recently robbed of an artifact by five drow mages. I am certain that their base of operations is somewhere in this city. They are very skilled and possess a variety of spells. I will pay you a fair sum for helping me. I bet they are in the possession of other valuable artifacts as well, which we later can split between us." 

"I would say, most Drow aren't trustworthy.  I just met Lady Moliira here, but she met knew my father, and he has told me she was trustworthy, even though if they came to blows occasionally.  He respected her as a person and a warrior.  He told me she was . . . a shade of grey.  I heard tales of other Drow who constantly plotted and schemed against each other."  He heard tales of Drow, their society was dominated by the women, and they were notoriously Machiavellian.  The man, Blue, mentioned how Moliira was named after the huntress Goddess.  Blue didn't know that this woman WAS the Goddess.  He wasn't going to say anything about that, he didn't want to invade her privacy or speak for her.  He went silent on that matter.

They both mentioned the tavern, so he followed the two into the tavern.  He felt a little nervous, because he didn't want to be pressured into drinking alcohol when it was something he hadn't touched yet.  Something told him it wouldn't be a good idea to try alcohol in this kind of setting.  Considering he was in the Umbral Depths, and surrounded by strangers on all sides, including a near death experience, he'd be better off to keep on his toes and not get drunk.  Especially if they were to go on an adventure together soon.  If the quest was right.  The innkeeper gave a look of hostility towards Moliira, and curiousity towards the two humans.  Hiro was younger than either of them, and being in this tavern, filled with mostly drunken dwarves, he felt out of place.  But he was an adventurer, it was something he would have to get used to.

"Ah, yes, tea!  Tea would be lovely!  I'll take a cup of that, please,"  Hiro listened to Blue tell his story, an artifact was stolen from the man by a group of drow mages.  Their base was supposedly in the area, and he needed a group to recover the artifact.  "See, you need to be careful about who you talk to.  Moliira saved my life, but she could have been a member of the clan of Drow that robbed you.  I doubt she is though, of course.  I'm also curious, what is the nature of this artifact?  I'm wondering what the Drow would want with it."

The drow only nodded at Blue's comment.  She considered herself to be a shade of gray, and it suited her quite well.  It was a bit difficult to hide a smirk when Blue commented of her being named after the Storm Wolf, but somehow she managed.  Glancing at the young Kouen, he seemed almost amused by the idea.  "Expectations, a good luck charm, something along those lines.  My people are notoriously superstitious.  Something you can use to your advantage when you need to," Moliira said.  It was good advice in general, knowing the weaknesses of anyone you might come up against.  Something that both of them could likely stand to learn. 

She listened quietly while the man spoke, but said nothing until the tea and beer arrived.  Her mind was working over the possibilities, of whether or not she even wanted to get involved in the first place.  She poured a cup for Hiro first, then one for herself.  Dwarven tea was very strong, and required a lot of cream and sugar, which she relayed to the young man before he took a sip.  "That is a good place to start, this artifact of yours.  And describe the mages to me.  Male, female, or both?  Did they have tattoos?  Any details would be helpful," Moliira said.  It would be interesting to know if they were dealing with an organization, or just a group of renegades.

(((I no longer have the time to Roleplay with my Revaliir account. Im sorry. Feel free to either kill of my character or use him an npc :( )))

Arlin wandered the length of the marketplace, his ice-blue eyes taking in the new sights though never quite leaving the stone roof above.  Damned caves.  Feel like I’m suffocating down here. He shook his head, instantly causing a cascade of dark red hair to fall into his face.  Reaching a slender, but callused, hand up, the man ran his fingers through his long hair to push it back over his ears.  The ears were long and pointed.  This mixed with his tanned complexion gave Arlin away as an elf, albeit one far more suited to the wilds than to the civilized and pompous community of the northern island many of his kin called home.  

His features  were not overlooked in the cavernous Umbral Depths.  Though the dwarves would merely look at him as another curiosity, it was the drow that glowered at the sight of a surface elf.  Arlin smirked at the smoldering anger hardly concealed within their eyes.  It was not in him to hate an entire race by the examples of a few but nor was it his lot in life to be a victim. Not again. The boundless pit of rage within his soul stirred at the animosity directed his way.  His right eye turned red. NO!  Not here, and not now. There is no time to deal with the mess and I am sorely ill-equipped after that last failure.  As if in understanding, the maelstrom within the wood elf became less turbulent.  However, he could still feel it undulating against the barriers in his mind.

The elf sighed internally, sending off a silent prayer to the gods and goddesses for one disaster averted this day.  But in appeasement of his hidden nature, he turned his gaze to those who showed him open hostility.  And smirked.  His currently hetero-chromatic eyes pierced the distance and bore into the closest antagonistic drow.  The challenge was not accepted and they broke eye contact.  Arlin strode forward without another glance, his eye returning to its original hue.  Realizing he was tired of perusing shops which held no interest for him as well as making note that he did not have the silver to purchase replacement gear from the dwarven blacksmiths, the elf decide to head for the closest inn.

His black booted feet barely made a sound as each step was placed forward carefully and precisely onto the balls of his feet. He moved as if stalking prey.  His black trousers and white tunic fit him comfortably but gave subtle hints to the lithe, corded muscles beneath.  Arlin adjusted the shield on his back and broadsword at his side with minor discomfort.  Better than nothing though nowhere near my weapons of choice.  This must be remedied soon or I won’t survive long with unfamiliar arms.  His thoughts were interrupted when his gaze fell upon his destination.  He opened the door and stepped in.

The sounds and smells of a crowded tavern hit him like a hammer in the nose.  It took a moment of self-control to stop himself from covering his nose and ears, a task with which he would need one more hand.  Ugh.  The reek of crowds, alcohol, and barely digestible food is obnoxious.  Why did I leave the forests?  Why did I trek across the plains?  Oh that’s right.  Because I listened to a bloody gnome merchant and their rumors.   Arlin began breathing through his mouth, which made the smells less potent, and stepped inside to scan the tables.  The one thing that was true of taverns everywhere was you could always find an adventurer, or someone to kill. The grin that lit his face was as dark as the glint that sparked behind his eyes.

They spoke, hashing over the details of the party that had stolen the artifact.  She was also keen to know just what this artifact why, trying to figure out why her kin would want it.  Her eyes drifted through the tavern, settling for a moment on an elf.  The male seemed rather ill at ease here, and Moliira wondered at his intentions.  Most wouldn't even be caught dead in a cave, much less a major city of the Umbral Depths.  His red hair made him stand out, only the dwarves had similar coloring. 

It was then things started to happen.  A trio of drow stood up in a different corner of the tavern, and they all gestured at the man who had been speaking on stolen goods.  And he vanished before Moliira could react.  Well, more along the lines of 'chose' to react.  If nothing else, this would likely be a good training exercise for the young Kouen.  "Well now, I think this just got more interesting.  Hiro, what do you think that our first move should be?" she asked, a smile curling her lips.  She knew it was unlikely they would kill their kidnap victim.  If they wanted him dead, then they would have done it in the tavern. 

Her eyes drifted to the strange elf who had wandered in, and she gestured for him to join them.  Perhaps he would be of use as well…

[Apologies for how long this took, work has been eating my time.]

One moment they were discussing their plans for finding the artifact, the next moment, the man, Blue, was kidnapped by a group of drow, who disappeared in a puff of smoke.  Hiro blinked, the drow didn't attack the rest of the party.  They just walked up to him, grabbed him, then disappeared, poof!

"Well, if they wanted him dead, they'd have just stabbed him in the back.  I guess they needed him alive, for whatever reason.  We need to track them down.  He said they're in the city somewhere, right?  What would a likely place for their hideout be?  An abandoned church maybe?  I don't know this area well enough, but I know you do, Lady Moliira."  He noticed that she was looking at something, or rather someone who had just entered the tavern.  A non-drow elf?  Here?  What the hell would a wood elf/high elf/whatever elf have to do in a place like this?  He'd be disliked more than the humans like Blue and himself.  He's lucky he doesn't already have a dozen daggers sticking out of his back.

Moliira flagged the elf down.  Maybe he'd be trustworthy to help them track down the cult.  Additional assistance wouldn't hurt.  Moliira probably could take on the whole cult herself, she was a very seasoned warrior and a Goddess, but she wouldn't want to do all the work.  She was hiding her presence of who she really was from everyone else.  "What brings an elf of fair skin down here?  Most drow hate you, and dwarves don't get along with you.  It's dangerous down here in the Depths."

Arlin caught the gestures from the drow and human and made his way over.  His eyes never quit moving as he sized up each and every individual in the room while making note of the more openly hostile among them.  Generally those were drow.  Hatred was his bosom buddy, so he merely smiled openly at the hostility and kept the challenge in his eyes.  A cage within his soul shook slightly. Ah, brother! Can we play with them? Just a little bit? It’d be so easy to make them attack first, kill them, and play the role of innocent victim just defending oneself.  Pleeeeeeease?  It’s been so long since I got to stretch our legs.  The wood elf’s face contorted into a grimace as he pushed down the voice in his mind with a supreme effort of will. No. You will not run free here.

By the time his internal conversation had completed, the redhead found himself standing before the table.  Bowing his head slightly in greeting to the two at the table, the elf glanced over his shoulder before acknowledging the human’s questions with a smirk.  “Adventure, wanderlust, and boredom, truth be told. I do not hate the drow, specifically, so their animosity makes them simplistic prey.”  Arlin brushed a few stray strands of hair back over his ears, broadcasting even more his heritage. “The danger is acceptable.  What else makes one feel so alive?”  A smile spread slowly across his face, yet it did not touch his cold, ice-blue eyes.  “Oh, forgive my manners.  I am Arlin.” 

He bowed again, but this time his eyes took in the female drow a bit closer.  Both of them gave off auras of power but her’s was vast.  One did not survive as a killer without being able to sense the innate differences between a predator and a prey.  This woman was no prey, nor was her companion.  Arlin’s smile finally touched his eyes as he waited to see why they had called him over.

 

[Sorry about the delay, work has been utterly consuming my energy.]

She nodded in approval when Hiro reasoned things out, it was clear there was influence from Sabishii.  And yet there was something else too, a touch of the more subtle.  As much as she respected the Phoenix Knight, he could be very… brash at times.  "very good.  Thinking before you act, that will keep you alive much longer.  And you're quite correct.  Most drow tend to either hide very well, or within plain sight," she said, offering the young man a compliment.  Moliira was in one of her oddly altruistic moods, and she decided it would benefit the young Kouen. 

Then the elf wandered over, and she eyed him for a moment.  There was a reason, mostly that she had little wish to see anyone dead for simply wandering into the wrong place at the wrong time.  He and Hiro could be of benefit to each other if they remained for too long.  "Those are all quite good reasons, and ones I understand all too well.  But my people will hate you, whether it is returned or not.  I am Moliira, and this is Hiro.  You looked as if you needed something to do," she said with a grin.  An elf, a human and a drow would certainly make for an interesting hunting party. 

Taking a gulp of the tea, she pulled out a piece of parchment with a rudimentary map drawn on it.  It was of this particular city, and there were a few landmarks drawn upon it.  The bar they sat in, the marketplace she had found Hiro in, the ruined church he had mentioned.  And there was something about the church that caught her interesting.  "I think we should try that church first.  It is built into the wall of the city, it would be easy to have secret exits leading further into the Depths that way," she said, looking at the other two.  While Moliira was willing to hear their opinions, she was determined to keep them on what she held as the correct path.