Several days later...

Red-streaked amber eyes were open as she stared towards the window across the room. Morning light was streaking past the edges of heavy dark-colored drapes. She was warm and even comfortable, but her head felt like she'd been stepped on by something large. With a pained expression, the halfdrow crept from bed, trying her best to not disturb the sleeping male beside her. An ornate robe was gathered from the handle of the large chestnut armoire near the foot of the bed and slipped over her thin frame.

As she walked, she let her fingers trail over the back of Krollip, the large cat-like creature that lay snoring softly on an antique fainting couch by the door. It was a feystag and stretched the length of the sofa, antler-tip to tail-tip. It's leonine eyes opened momentarily and peered up at her before the creature gave a gaping yawn and went back to sleep.

She had heard the door of the shop downstairs open. She knew that Faerran had arrived for the morning shift and her head was splitting from the night before's reckless activities. Mouth opened on instinct and attempted a hello, but the halfdrow found herself mute again - an unavoidable side effect from using her voice too much, too soon during this lengthy healing process. But she still had the drop on her fey'ri sibling, so she popped around a row of high shelves and knocked on the back counter, making her presence known.

The planar child looked up abruptly from her desk and arched a single dark brow at the haggard-looking halfbreed.

"Good morning....Why are you awake so early, Rayv" And dear Gods, why do you reek of booze"!?"

Rayva began to sign, eyes still half-lidded. Long night....leave it at that. Attempting to sleep off a lot of scotch and most of the Dragon's Absinth. Please tell me you have anything to combat this roaring headache of mine, because sleep isn't going to cut it.

"You know you don't have my tolerance, sissy. You deserve this for such short-sightedness."

A long and flat stare was the initial response, until the fey'ri began to move about, mixing this ingredient and that, beating all into a fine powder. A glass was shoved towards Rayva, who filled it from the tap and took a satisfying gulp.

"Did you see your friend" Amelyn said you came home with stars in your eyes the other night."

She nodded and smirked, managing a hissing tone for her words, "He's upstairs asleep, so keep your voice down. You know how these old buildings are - paper thin walls and such."

The dark-haired sister glanced towards the ceiling and shook her head, adding a second set of duplicated ingredients to the mortar and crushing away.

"He seems....ok, and I don't know him, so this is nothing personal against him, but don't get involved, Rayvan. You're not ready."

"He's not like the Helston." she croaked, silently cursing her vocal chords, "And who are you to judge my so-called readiness for anything" You recently, finally, and after much persuasion, gave in to an arranged marriage. That doesn't make you any type of expert, except maybe in submission."

"Oh, little sister...," An airy and slow smile spread across the fey'ri's pale face, absorbing that last dig with a grace not usually present at this hour of the morning. Rayva watched and waited, expecting a full backlash. Instead, a very candid Faerran eyed her sister as prey for the moment and cleared her throat, continuing to speak.

"I don't care....You've been in one major relationship in your life, and that ended with him gone and you half-dead. Mom's gonna flip."

"Mom already knows, Faer, so your tattling is moot." The ashen-skinned sister smirked triumphantly. "She saw him after I hurt my hand, and I've not been locked in a chastity belt or an ivory tower yet."

"Yet...," was the mocked response as the elder sister turned her gaze skyward. "Does she know that he's been deflowering her precious baby' That should speed up the process nicely!"

The halfdrow pursed her lips complacently and took another sip of water, glaring.

"It's a simple..."

"No. And he's not like that....He's a gentleman."

"A gentleman, sleeping soundly in your bed, without getting any booty. Right."

Her voice cracked as she began to protest, so she signed as she mouthed the words, You don't know him, Faer. And this is new, and exciting, and I look forward to seeing him every time. And it's not so serious, yet.

"Ah ha....So what?s the ring about?"

Rayv looked down at her hand and flattened her expression. It's about none of your business, suffice to say that it's not that kind of ring. It's imbued. Just ask Krollip. He's already checked it out.

"I see." replied the fair-skinned sister, giving a bored yawn as she dumped the pulverized mixture onto a piece of parchment and folded it into a packet. She held it out towards Rayva with a smirk, "There's enough for two here, four doses, should boy-o need it, as well. One dose now, sleep a bit, then the other when you wake back up. Best hangover cure in the world."

Can I go now, or will there be more interrogation?

A cheery smile was the demonkin's answer.

"I'm pretty sure I'm falling for him, Faerran, if it helps you sleep at night."

But the smile didn't disappear completely; it faltered ever so slightly.

Rayva left her sister to her business and trudged up the stairs to her loft. She scratched between Krollip's antlers as she walked past. The glass was still clutched in her hand as she went to her dresser and measured out a dose of Faerran's remedy. She dumped the powder in and stirred it with her finger. All was tossed back like a shot and she made a horrid face as the taste hit her. Chalky, yet unrefined...

Sliding back into the warmth of her bed, she nestled close to the male, sliding an errant lock of hair away from his cheek with ashen fingers. She was so unsure of what exactly she'd gotten herself into, but that didn't matter to her. It had been decades since she'd allowed herself to feel anything towards the opposite gender, and now she didn't know how to put on the proverbial brakes without seeming distant or aloof....But she was determined to take this chance. She closed her eyes, letting her fingers stay brushed against his jaw, and promised herself all of those hopes she dare not voice just yet. Perhaps there was a romantic in her, as well.

((This post is a collaboration of players. NPCs are involved as well.))

Earlier conversations still rang in her thoughts as the ancient moved towards her daughters' place of business. She looked up at the intricate wrought iron spider that held the shop's sign, smiling ferally. Valas had done well in his design; she would have to reward him.

Her purpose was simple. She had spoken with a few of the survivors of the Batten incident of last evening, and been by the site to gather her own feelings on the goings-on. The story that Rayva had related rang true ith all witness acounts, but her daughter had left out several details, not surprisingly with the evacuation task that the young half-drow had described undertaking.

She pushed her way past the front door and loomed over Amelyn, who was restocking a low shelf. She looked up with trepidation in those pale green eyes. The matron's expression was often unnerving to the dark elf and she tried to avoid her, whenever possible.

"Where are they?" came the demanding tones from the elder.

"Upstairs parlor, madam," she replied, wilting beneath that lavender glare, "Faerran is tending to the burn on Rayv's arm. It's a pretty nasty one, apparently."

"The arm is still there. No cause for worry, child," she barked.

The elder drow turned abruptly and the left the young apprentice to her work. She passed the Lythirii in the hallway, who shrunk into the panelling and refrained from speech.

Upon reaching the parlor, it was Krollip who spotted Talis first.

"Madam, your youngest seems to have begun attracting bullets, this time." His tone was carefully sarcastic and he lay draped across a lush rug of some exotic animal skin.

"Your humor is misplaced, beast. Take yourself elsewhere before I have you stuffed and mounted," was the snap. The drowess' spirits were less and less as she looked over her youngest.

The calygraunt blew out a breath of pure disdain and quickly removed himself from the female's line of sight. He found a perch across the room in a highbacked chair, beginning the hours-long chore of meticulous grooming. Eyes gleamed as he sulked and remained a visual, but inaudible, fixture in the room. Rayvan was his favorite and the one he watched over, so Talis would be hard-pressed to force him out entirely.

Faerran had Rayvan sitting on a large oaken table, examining the minor injury on her upper arm. Gas burns were present, along with a decent amount of stipling. As the fey'ri blotted along, applying a silver sulphidine mixture, it became apparent that a few of the shot had actually grazed the half-drow's bicep, causing claw-like trenches across the outer flesh.

"...from how far away?" Faerran was already questioning her sibling when their mother crossed the room.

Rayvan signed her response, "Probably right at an arm-length. I was able to commandeer the weapon rather easily....well, since it was a virtual child firing it."

"Shocked it didn't rock the little monster back on it's butt. You've not fired one of those things, have you?"

"Not at all. I just knew how it worked and that I had to take it away before it was used on me."

"One like that has a nasty recoil. It can really beat your ass, if not held properly while shooting. And the other firearm?"

"Picked it up on my way out. No idea."

"You're lucky." The fey'ri was shaking her head.

Talis stepped forward and mulled over the stipling in her child's skin, a grave frown on her lips.

"And what do you suggest we do with such weapons" You're the only one who seems to have a decent, working knowledge of them."

Faerran grinned, "Well, the gun that nearly maimed sister-dearest is called a Remington shotgun. Human-crafted, good quality, double barrel side-by-side....what they call a 12 gauge. I'll be keeping that one."

The elder balked and gave an expression plainly stating, 'why"'

"I'm going to help Rayvan here disassemble it and we're going to make some modifications so I can keep it here at the shop. They're good for defending against those who might want to steal from us....It's already sawed off, meaning the barrel was shortened, to a decent size, but I want it more compact. More kick, more capability for damage. And that namby-pamby pistol grip needs some work, too. Like I said, it's quality, but it could be improved. I'll have Valas handle the fabrication."

"Do what you will with it," Talis muttered. The drowess was overwhelmed....She was not a fan of firearms and had strayed far from involvement with such weapons in the past. They seemed primative to her and she had watched the demise of many a human at the hands of some idiot with a gun. "Just keep it away from the young ones." Her head tilted towards the stairwell leading down to the shop, in reference of Amelyn and Malicyne.

"Yes, mother." was the drawn out response from Faerran, a snarky grin shared with her half-breed sister.

"I miss all of the good parties..." She winked, completing her 'doctoring,' and wrapped a thin gauze around her sister's arm. "All better."

The fey'ri turned and collected her supplies, starting for the shop. "If you need me, I'm going back down to check on the lesser of our evils and make sure they haven't scared off the customers."

"You are wise to stay far from outlander affairs, Faerran." Talis stated plainly, "But, yes, if you'll excuse us, Rayvan and I need to have a talk."

Night was always a time for introspection for the half-drow. Being an elf, of course, sleep was not necessary, but she did indulge as much as possible. Tonight was no such night.

Her loft was small, containing four rooms: a parlor with small kitchenette, her personal library, a large bathroom, and her bedroom. The walls were painted a rich golden color and heavy burgundy drapes hung from the ceiling to pool in the floor, blocking out any natural light that may disturb her rest. Varying works of art had been arranged on the walls of every room and lush carpets of exotic origin covered the pressed hardwood floors. The lighting in her room was faerie fire, a type of drow magic that was applied to several sconces within.

She had left Malicyne at the manor and been sent home. She had walked slowly, hoping that the cool air and alone time would help to relax her. No such luck. Now, she lay in the opulence of her bed, surrounded by comfort and warmth, but rest would not come.

Amelyn, her apprentice, was gone. Taken. And there was nothing she could do. Others had been dispatched to search, to report back in the morning if no trace was found. Talis herself was at the head of the operation, barking orders and directing those involved, even going so far as to send messengers through the portals to other realms. Leave no stone unturned. She had sent her daughters home and overtaken the task on her own.

Rayva had poured her heart out in one summing statement to the object of her affections, earlier in the night, and he had disappeared immediately. It would remain to be seen if that was purposeful, or perhaps if the circumstances had just taken over. He was apt to disappear unexpectedly. Only time would tell" But still, it bothered her. It still stung more than it should have, but she felt awful for not having faith and not giving the situation the benefit of the doubt. And she had no way to vent, no one to talk to about it. Malicyne had delivered the news of the dark elf's kidnapping mere moments afterward. The family was in crisis and she couldn't be emotional. She had to harden herself and deal with the danger before allowing herself to be sentimental.

Time, time, time" They had to find Amelyn. She was too young and far too inexperienced to protect herself against Shiva. Shiva was a trained killer. The half-drow knew exactly how skilled, as she had trained the human herself. She had taught the pale-skinned girl from early on. Talis had mentored, as well, and the combination of the two made for a dangerous adversary.

She rolled onto her side and found Krollip lying on the opposite side of the bed, watching over her. He looked to her with a soft growl and batted at an ashen hand. She curled her fingers around that familiar paw, one she had held through many hard times since childhood.

"Krollip, what am I going to do?" Voice was soft and weak, wavering with trapped emotion. Tears slid down dark cheeks and she gasped softly, choked on the frustration of it all.

He slid closer and gathered her against his side, nuzzling her like a small child. He lay his muzzle to her temple and heaved a sigh.

"I can't answer that, Rayvan. It's hard to watch you like this. Is there anything I can do' Can I go see if I can find your friend" He might like to know what?s going on. Maybe he can help."

"I don't know," she wiped at her cheek. "I'm frozen."

The calygraunt lay still, leonine eyes turned towards the loft's door, halfway expecting to hear a key turning the lock, but there was no such sound. He took a paw, pulling her small frame closer and curling about her in a protective manner.

"Get some rest. I'll keep you safe and wake you if anything should happen. Any change. Anything at all. We'll talk about this in the morning. And with any luck, we'll find her soon."

She lay, face buried in her pillow, sobbing quietly. The fey kept watch and refrained from talking anymore. The half-drow needed to sleep and further conversation would only serve to stress her moreso. The situation would be clearer in the morning" maybe.

The hellhound had stalked the woman since the picking up on her scent at the bridge. The halfblood had provided her pet for their use and Faust flared his nostrils, growling low and ragged. His jowls flared at the smell of human and elf that marred the flagstones. His wide stance would take a signaling position, letting his drow handlers know that he had found something.

Alakyraen leaned down and scooped up a bit of cloth. It was the same kind of bread crumb they'd been finding for the past half hour. He had already sent for the drowess, Talissia, since she was planning to join them at the graveyard. They'd been finding little strips of cotton fabric since reaching the Museum. Amelyn was a smart girl" she'd torn bits from her shirt and dropped them along the street, apparently when she was moved sometime in the past day or so. There was blood on this one and he lifted it carefully, then shoving it beneath the hound's maw.

The beast lunged forward down the road and though the cemetery gate, passing markers and gravestones with an aggressive pull at it's lead. The short male was dragged unmercifully along, cursing Rayvan's pet with every step. They came to a halt before a large, stone mausoleum, the markings notating the tomb of old days, filled with those long passed of the Brotherhood of Darkness.

___________________________________________

Word had been sent back to the manor of their find. Hoping for the best, the drowess flung herself into Streeaka's saddle and launched the nightmare out of his stall. She was joined on the street, as she tore through the marketplace, by Xun"afein, who had borrowed a lean pony from Valas" stable. Together, they parted crowds and flew past buildings, racing for the search party.

Upon reaching the cemetery gate, Streeaka began to canter back and forth, refusing to step foot on hallowed ground. The drowess faltered and looked unsurely at the male as he dismounted. He lifted her from the saddle and placed her on the ground, hands gripping her shoulders.

"She's fine, Talissia. We would've heard, had they found otherwise. So, until that is the word, you keep those thoughts out of your head."

She gave a curt nod and started across the grass towards where guards stood on point. The crypt had been forced open, but all stood outside in wait of the hellhound who had been sent inside to clear the area. No sounds were heard from inside, none on the wind, no tiny insects" it was dead silence.

The mangled face of the creature appeared from the shadows beyond the doorway and it took a seat directly inside, a sign that no threat lie within. Not a positive sign, to the drowess who had hoped to hear that hellish baying upon their arrival.

___________________________________________

Xun"afein was the first into the crypt. Talis was on his heels and flung herself into the stone rooms, eyes switching to the infrared to search dark corners. Down the stairs she ran, pushing past the male despite his protests. She hit her knees in lowest level of the underground tomb, pulling at a crumpled form in the corner. It was the dark elf.

Amelyn didn't move, nor respond. Her lips were cyanotic and skin had taken a dull and ashy pallor. Talis pulled her eyelid open and blew, hoping for reaction, but received none. Pressing fingers into the pulse below her jaw brought nothing. She clutched the girl to her chest and broke down. Those who had ventured into the tomb behind her remained silent and lingered in the doorway, horrified by what they saw: an emotional outpouring by the necromancer.

Alakyraen dropped to the floor behind Talis, dragging her back into his arms and rocking her slowly. He had no words for the elder, but offered comfort in the only way he knew how. Xun"afein pushed their associates back and out of the chamber, instructing them to post a watch at the entrance and search every pathway, every chamber and catacomb attached to this one crypt. It had been chosen because of Talis" past. Alakyraen looked over the crown of Talissia's head to his brother, nodding solemnly and holding the elder drowess carefully as the male approached and bent over the fallen dark elf.

"She's gone" We didn't get here in time." The drowess lamented, her face buried against the chest piece of Alak's armor. Her words drew a sharp look from Xun, who spoke out of turn and far too harshly towards a female of her stature.

"You should know better than any that death is never the end," was his barked response. He swept the young dark elf's tunic aside and pushed fingertips deep into the crease at her hip. "She still has a pulse at the femoral. It's faint, but she's not dead?"

Wrapping her carefully in his cloak, Xun"afein scooped the girl into his arms, mumbling soft words to her. He left his brother with the elder female and cleared the way out of the chamber, barking orders as he hurried up the steps to the entrance level.

"Clear out! The human is not here. Set everything back the way that it was, but you? small one," A male picked out. He stripped the tunic from Amelyn and threw it at the young male, then folding his cloak back over the female. "Put this on and get down into the crypt."

He pulled a vial and needle from his pouch.

"When the human arrives, you act weak and hide your face" then use this and bring her to me." His tone was unmistakably harsh. "No mistakes. Now, let's get this set up and get out of here!"

The group rushed into action and cleared out of the scene, leaving the planted elf behind. Alak placed Talis in front of him on Streeaka and urged the animal towards the manor at a careful pace. The company moved slowly through town and back across the bridges in small groups, with the exception of Xun"afein. He rode hastily towards the manor with Amelyn flung across his saddle, hidden within his cloak as well as possible.