~ A drow drifts silently through the night shadows, concealed in a Shadowsilk long coat which seems to draw in what little light there is in the drow's vicinity, his own personal version of a Piwafwi. The long coat creates new shadows around him even when there should be none as he sticks to the rooftops and other less noticeable areas, seeming nothing more than one shadow amongst many.

Elandar pauses as he notices the crudely scrawled notification that a monster hunter's services were available, thinking, perhaps, to pay the hunter to locate the red dragon that had attacked and grievously wounded his beloved Ricquire so that he and Ricquire might slay it. As the drow reads further his eyes narrow in anger and he dismisses the notion of hiring whatever creature this "Koruush" turned out to be, though he suspects from the crude language and blocky letters that it is one of the less intelligent races, possibly an orc or suchlike.

A scowl forms on his face as turns away from the wall and he decides to keep an eye out for this "Koruush" who, by his own words, proclaimed hatred for all drow.

A dangerous, dark smile plays over Elandar's ebony lips as he drifts out of sight, replacing the scowl. The dark smile is prompted by the realisation that any creature who so openly proclaims hatred for drow likely has very little time left to live. There is, after all, more than a few of Elandar's dark kin on Rhy'Din. Sooner or later one of them is bound to take exception to those words and seek out the one who wrote them.

His smile becomes darker still as another sudden thought comes to him. Perhaps he will hire this ?Koruush? after all, through a proxy, and let the monster hunter take the brunt of the assault on the red dragon?s lair. If the hunter should happen to fall before the fangs and claws of the crimson drake ?well?no real loss ~