Dalanesca listened carefully as Moliira spoke, a content feeling washing over her.  It seemed that the overly serious discussion of what she was going to help the drow with was over, and the two had relaxed into casual conversation.  Moliira seemed interested in helping her, and she was going to willingly accept the help.  In her brief memories of earlier times, she could remember being able to use magic, but it wasn’t something that she could figure out yet.  She shrugged slightly, and felt that being candid with the drow would be the best idea, given her status of power.

”I used to be able to do magic,” she said, with a bit of a shrug.  It was true.  She had memories of being able to cast spells both defensive and offensive – in fact, she had memoires of possessing great power, and that was most definitely something that she did not have any longer.  ”I would be willing to try to learn again,” she added, hopefully.  ”But in the meantime, elixirs and poisons might be useful,” she added with a crooked smile.

She watched with interest as Moliira rose from her position and walked over to a grave, coming back with some sort of flowery plant.  It resembled moss to her, but did not give off the musty aroma that seemed to accompany moss.  When the drow returned with an explanation of what properties the plant contained, she seemed thoroughly fascinated.  That was most definitely something that could come in handy at some point or another.  The fact that most interested her was that it would not kill. 

She sat in quiet contemplation when Moliira asked her what sort of skills she possessed.  ”Well,” she began after a moment.  ”I’m skilled with a blade.  And I can keep myself hidden when I need to,” she added, with a smile.  The smile faded shortly, as she, too, heard the sound that the drow had heard.  ”You heard that too?” she asked, her voice low and barely audible – only enough so that the drow could hear her.  A sound emitted from the trees once more, something that she could not discern its origin.  In preparation, she dropped a dagger into the palm of her hand, blade at the ready – after all, she did not know what was about to come.

"My magic is mostly of the storm and sky, though I know a few other cantrips.  Any caster worth their salt should be able to heal themselves, and that is more often than not the first thing I teach," Moliira said with a chuckle, thinking to her boys.  At least that way if they got into trouble, they could more than likely get back out of it.  She nodded, Dalanesca seemed willing and already eager to learn.  And that was something that put the drow into a good mood.  She had found that she quite enjoyed teaching the willing, especially when they were receptive to the Storm Wolf's ways.  And it seemed that she was.

Carefully laying the herb beside the fire, Moliira continued the impromptu lesson.  "It is easiest to handle when it is dried, though more potent when freshly harvested.  For a novice in alchemy, I would highly suggest that you work with the dried venorsh.  Unless you do not wish to speak for a few hours," she said with a chuckle.  It was a lesson that many learned the hard way by many apprentices who thought themselves more clever than their teachers.  There were more than a few ways to prepare the herb, but the lesson was interrupted by some uninvited guests. 

Closing her eyes for a moment, Moliira only listened.  She could hear the rough language of Adeluna being spoken, and the tongues sounded human.  They were graverobbers.  A part of her was tempted to simply let them be.  But the divine part of her knew that the dead should be left to rest.  Something else was stirring in the cemetery though, and Moliira smiled.  It was cold and cruel, and she held a hand up to halt Dalanesca from moving to attack.  "Keep your voice down.  Those men are about to get some poetic justice," she murmured.  Instead, Moliira crept forward, silent as a wolf on the hunt, to a place where they could both see better.

The men's filthy work was lit by a pair of lanterns, and in their light Moliira could see a trio of men digging up a fresh grave.  One was shouting at the other two to keep working.  So absorbed in their work were the men that they did not see a pair of glowing white eyes behind them in the mists.  Moliira pointed it out to Dalanesca, and kept her silence.  A thin piercing voice cut through the mist, freezing the men in their tracks.  "Leave me be…  Leave me BEEEEEE!" the female voice wailed, then flew straight at the men who had been digging.  Both moved to flee, but one tripped over the open grave and fell to the ground.  His head struck the headstone with a sickening crack, and Moliira could tell from the angle he was dead.  The other man fled through the stones, towards the two women.  The ghost turned to the last man, and flew straight at him.  She seemed to latch onto him in a kiss, and Moliira could see that his very life force was being drained. 

With a quick gesture, Moliira doused the fire by burying it in earth.  The man kept running by them, deeper into the cemetery.  "It might be a prudent time to leave…  You would be welcome to visit my realm, if you wish," Moliira murmured again.  The dead would be restless tonight, and it would not be safe here soon. 

She nodded in acknowledgment as Moliira informed her of what camps her magic fell into, though she had discerned as much from the earlier show of power that she had offered.  Healing magic struck a chord with her - she was sure that she had been quite adept at such magic before, in the time she could hardly remember.  ”Makes as much sense as anything,” she agreed.  She had, in more recent times, had a few encounters in which being able to heal herself would have been a plus, but she had been unable to do so.  The dull throb that remained in her ribcage as the result of a back alley beating proved that point to her even further.

Intently, she watched as Moliira laid the plant near the fire, listening closely to what the drow was saying to her.  It seemed that this particular plant was quite dangerous if not handled properly.  She did not want to lose her voice for any extended period of time, or any period of time, for that matter, so she took the warning to heart, offering a quick smile when the drow laughed.  She seemed as though she did not necessarily warn her of this out of experience, but more from having seen others do it to themselves.

She grew momentarily worried as the drow grew quiet, seemingly concentrated on something that Dalanesca could not hear yet.  Eventually, the sound drifted to her ears as well, and she could discern what sounded like a few men speaking.  A smile crept over the drow’s face which allowed Dalanesca to somewhat drop her guard - if the drow was not worried, she assumed that she need not be worried either.  She froze in place as Moliira lifted a hand, completely understanding the action  She nodded, staying silent, in understanding.  

She followed behind the drow, as she led them to a place where the view seemed more appropriate.  She could now see the graverobbers that the drow had informed her of, but she could also see something quite alarming - something gave off an eerie light in the mists behind the graverobbers, and she shortly came to realize that the glowing orbs were actually eyes as Moliira pointed it out to her.  She stifled a gasp - she had only come into contact with a spirit once before - as far as she could remember - and it had not gone well.  She did not feel like reliving that experience again, so she was careful to follow Moliira’s instructions.  

The spirit began to wail, and Dalanesca was sure she could feel the hair stand on the back of her neck.  It was eerie and terrifying at the same time, and she watched the events that happened unfold with slightly terrified eyes.  She abolished the emotion from her gaze quickly, not wanting to allow Moliira to sense any sort of weakness in her - not yet, at least.    

”Leaving sounds good,” she said quietly as Moliira put out the fire that she had set up for tea earlier, when Dalanesca had been unconscious.  ”I shall make it a point to find your realm, it seems as though you have much you could teach me,” she whispered, in an attempt to remain quiet.  ”Thank you for your assistance… and it was nice to make your acquaintance, Moliira,” she said, bowing her head in respect.  With that, she slipped off in the opposite direction that the grave robbers had, headed back towards the city.