So, Gentlemen... (Open)

[Wikvaya]

"So, Gentlemen, here we sit..."

And there they sat, Wikvaya and three Dwarves. Truth be told, it had always been painfully easy for him to push their buttons or appeal to their interests enough for a game of cards, and Dwarves were so oblivious to cheating. Really, all Wikvaya had to do was feign a stomach ache or gasp, pointing in the opposite direction and they'd take the bait hook, line, and sinker. And so they obliviously sat around a round table of polished, dark wood. He off offhandedly thought to himself how nice the table would look in someone's (not naming any names, but its his) house. Ah, but if only he had a house! He wouldn't be much of a Far Traveler if he had a house. The things people would say about his nicknames. They would call them all sorts of self proclaimed, and they were self proclaimed, but of course people didn't know that. That would ruin the whole mystery of it! How would he be able to travel far if he were not actually the Far Traveler?! He certainly wouldn't be in this fine Dwarven city if that ever been out.

Wikvaya himself had only been in Dalgon for a few days, at best. He never lingered in the Dwarven cities long, due to his widespread infamy amongst them, but Dalgon was quite peaceful, and he hadn't stolen anything of particular value from it yet. Wikvaya wondered if he'd be able to keep carrying the things he steals around with him if he kept on doing it. Perhaps it would be a worthwhile investment to find a nice, off the map cave to hole up in. Soon he'd have a horde of precious things to roll around in endlessly! Oh, it made his fur quiver just thinking about it! Well, if he had fur at this time, that is. Yes, that is correct, he had taken to his Human form, the lanky teen with blue-ish hair and golden Feldunost horns atop his head, usually obscured by a stolen Witch's hat but that had been removed due to vile eyes of resentment and spite being cast upon it. He quietly made a mental note to claw out the eyes of those who would dare look upon it again.

Wikvaya shivered. There was that lack of shirt again! True, he had packed on some weight (and then subsequently hardened it to muscle) in his travels, but the Mountains of the Dwarves left something cloth-like to be desired. Perhaps he could cheat the Dwarves out of their pants and make a cloak out of it? So long as they wear underwear under those pants. Yuck.

Speaking of the Dwarves, they were all huddled together at the opposite end of the quite circular table with hardened looks on their faces, as though determined not to lose, but they would. One of them seemed to sense this, and his mug wasn't quite as emotionless as the others'. Wikvaya thought that he would break this one first. Such a cruel, cruel kitty he was. But ah, such was life.

"Are you prepared?" He would never outwardly state his confidence that they would lose. That's just dumb, because then they think you're cheating.

Nevertheless, they all nodded, and he began, dealing out the cards. the idea was that each Dwarf and Wikvaya himself would receive one Card of Fate, or a card with a little picture inscribed on it. Depending on their fate, they can choose to increase their "Fortune", hold onto what they had, or forfeit. There were numerous trap cards, however, that would reduce one's "Fortune" until they have nothing left, and thus are forced to quit. The Dwarves had been in a tavern, arguing over who the luckiest of them all, and Wikvaya had played upon this, coaxing them to the table with his usual mysterious smile. Perhaps the one who was hesitant now was hesitant then. Perhaps he knew he was unlucky, but he was taunted into joining the game by his friends, and would thus pay the price.

And so the game began...

The cards were dealt, according to how Wikvaya wished them to be dealt, of course. The hesitant Dwarf was given a "Royal Guard" fortune. He had a moderate one, but would not be able to stand against Wikvaya's "Nobleman", and would thus have to bet more money (they were playing with deliciously shiny gold coins) to increase his fortune. The other two got nothing special, "Beggar" and "Tailor." The only thing that they achieved was the "Tailor" card was make Wikvaya cold again. The fiends. Nevertheless, they all chose to try and raise their fortunes. The hesitant dwarf came first, having gone all in... with a "Shoe Shiner."

"Oh, what awful luck!" Wikvaya was such a sympathizer.

The next Dwarf got a "Fortune Teller". This was an improvement, but he would have to raise again (and, incidentally, go all in as well), to beat Wikvaya. He did, and was met with a "Shoe Shiner" as well.

"What coincidence!" Now he was just being mean.

And finally, he extracted the last of the gold pieces he could from the poor Dwarves, by giving the final Dwarf a "Street Beggar."

"Well now, I guess the pot goes to me." He shoveled their gold coins into a bag he had prepared for the occasion.

"Wait a minute! Why do you have that bag there? CHEAT!"

Time to go.

[Aisling]

There was a loud thud, as Aisling and Faeon landed in the Beor mountains a few leagues from the city Dalgon . Aisling was already missing the heat of the desert, as the cool wind of the mountains passed across her already frozen cheeks. Faeon's shoulders quivered a bit as she landed clambered out of the saddle resting in the hallow of his neck. As soon as her feet hit the ground she was already missing the comforts of the sky.

Is this truly the best time?

"Yes, I believe so, Faeon," Aisling said as rider and dragon stood at the edge of the "It's time to come out of hiding. Someone is going to have bring back the ways of Old.Might as well be us."

We've been gone so long. Only the elves know of us, we are indeed just phantoms, perhaps we should just remain that way. The desert is not all that far away, we can return.

Aisling shook her head, even though the thought had crossed her mind.

"We are going to that Egg Ceremony, Faeon. Islanzadí made that clear in her letter."

The white dragon blew a puff of smoke out his nose in stubbornness.

I still believe it to be foolish.

Aisling smiled, brushing pure white hair out of her face.

"You believe everything that I do to be foolishness."

A frown crossed her lips as sighed, she knew that this is where their journey together must end. For the first time sense they had been bonded they would have to face the world alone, and they wouldn't even have the pleasure os each other's thoughts.

"I believe it would be wise if I traveled to Farthen Dur alone."

Golden eyes narrowed under thick scaly lids.
I can not allow that.

"Your going to have too," she replied tossing her hair, "There is no other way for this to be subtle. It pains me, for us to be separate but it would indeed be folly if we just waltzed right into the Varden as if nothing was out of the ordinary."

Aisling and Faeon shared mental laughter as the picture of people humans and dwarfs looking flabbergasted at the sudden bursting appearance of the strange white dragon and rider crossed her mind.

And what if something befalls you?
Aisling tore a strip of cloth from her tunic and wrapped it around her Gedwëy ignasia.

"I can take care of myself somewhat, injury or not," she said softly, "Trust me, Faeon, we must tread carefully. We are on turbulent shores."

The white dragon stared at his elf rider, before touching the tip of snout to her forehead.
Then be safe, my partner, I shall be here awaiting your return.

Aisling hugged her dragons large neck as best she could. Faeon hummed with content before they separated. Checking to make sure she had everything she needed, Aisling took of toward the city, as Faeon took off into the sky, hoping for his rider swift return. A feeling of great sadness washed over both their minds as they severed their mental embrace.

Aisling ran through the mountains. She remembered the races her and her twin would run (she always won). Oh how she missed her brother, and if she could spit upon the one who killed him, she would. She would tear their heart out, as they did hers. the angry thoughts and empty lonliness in her mind caused to push her speed to the limit. She only rested twice before she reached the city of Dalgon.

As she entered the town she was surprised the peace and calm of the city. Well, at least that's what she thought, until she heard a shout.

"Wait a minute! Why do you have that bag there? CHEAT!"

Aisling hid her laughter.
Another fool, tricked at cards, she thought. She was curious who the cheat was, for she always enjoyed people of clever wit. But cards was a lowly game to her, even though she had never played it. As she continued walking as she searched for a place to buy some bread. She made sure to consciously check to make sure her ears were covered by her hair. She was already drawing attention with her strange tattoos, she did not need the extra attention that would be brought by Elf features.

[Wikvaya]

It really is amazing how Dwarves reach some conclusion based on inconclusive evidence. Wikvaya was utterly baffled how the fact that he had a bag for his well earned coin with him was a sign that he cheated. Well, you could make a case that him having a bag for the coin was a sign he knew he'd win all along, but you shouldn't guess that. Not if you want to keep your eyes unscratched, that is.

Nevertheless, to the accusation. It had come from the two more dull-witted, less-hesitant-and-weak-willed-than-the-other-one Dwarves. They were glaring at him, and he was grinning both broadly and jovially. Of course, this was the time where they reached for their weapons (The third Dwarf didn't seem to have one, the poor thing). The two that HAD weapons charged him and attempted a dual thrust into his absolutely gorgeous, tanned chest, to which he simply sidestepped. He shouldered his new sack of coin, donned his hat over his golden feldunost horns, and gave them a gracious bow. They tried to decapitate him, but he simply turned and darted out the door, into the street.

It would appear they made quite a ruckus. A small crowd had already formed and were eyeing the tavern which Wikvaya was currently bursting out of. Someone behind him yelled: "Stop that Human!" You dolts! A human wouldn't be half as gorgeous as he was! And a Human wouldn't have cat-like slits for eyes, or small fangs on his canines. But that was besides the point. A human. Honestly! The nerve of some people.

He addressed the crowd. "Greetings, Ladies and Gentlemen! We welcome you to this humble establishment! Now, the moment you've all been waiting for, may I humbly present, Dwarf One and Dwarf Two!"

Their names weren't important.

Wikvaya slid to the side as the Dwarves came charging out, tripping on their own beards and crashing against the stone beneath them, obviously symbolic for them, stone catching them when they fall, and all. They should thank him, really, for doing them such a courtesy.

They did not.

Instead, they decided to stumble to their feet and chase after him. He was far more agile than they, and made it quite far, more than out of their sight, and it was at this time he came upon the only non-Dwarf other than him in this fair, dimwitted city.

An Elf, no less. No doubt trying to disguise herself as a human, but her efforts were futile. She was an elf, plain as day. Too beautiful and striking to be a human, far too beautiful and striking. Humans weren't beautiful or striking at all. Well, some of them were, but the ability for Humans to be either beautiful or striking depended entirely upon chance. Elves were just naturally both beautiful and striking. And they were much harder to cheat.

But perhaps they were easily appealed to? Perhaps. He ran up to her and immediately pulled her into a back alley with him, taking off his hat and throwing it to the side, as well as taking off his golden feldunost horns and hiding them behind his back.

He dons a look of serious interest on what was about to follow. "Ah yes. Lovely weather we're having indeed. Oh, and did you see that sun? Absolutely gorgeous." Then he leans in, whispering to her: "Play along, please." He dons a winning smile, as though trying to persuade her, and he hoped the Dwarves were dimwitted enough to run right by the two.

[Aisling]

Aisling found herself deeper in the city. The further she got the more she found herself disliking dwarves and missing Faeon. Her heart and mind felt so empty without him. Their was know sharing of jokes, no nagging, no shared dreams, just her mind and conscious was left.

She was already getting stared at by many. It was too obvious she was an elf. There wasn't a non-dwarf in this city. That is until, the only other non-dwarf dragged her into a dark alley.

Aisling almost punched the stranger, until he said:

"Ah yes. Lovely weather we're having indeed. Oh, and did you see that sun? Absolutely gorgeous." Then he leaned in, whispering to her: "Play along, please."

Aisling's grey eyes narrowed on the stranger. He was tan and lean, with strange blue hair. He wasn't human one bit. It was obvious to her it was a werecat.
Might as well, she thought with a shrug.

"Indeed, the weather is beautiful. It is a bit on the chilly side though," she said with a wink, "But you know what they say, 'if they days are great, the nights are only better."

Aisling turned her head, toward the opening of the alley. She heard the clamor a group of dwarves. Running into each other, stumbling (for when dwarves form a mob it's often rather clumsy)an they seemed to be searching for someone. She extended her mind to the one un-armed dwarf. His mental protection was weak, so she entered his mind kindly. Images of the same blue haired werecat, flashed across the dwarf's mind. Images of cards and coins, and ah, a bag, they wanted the bag.

Aisling withdrew from the dwarf's consciousness. She smiled a knowing smile at the stranger. "Ah so your the cheat," she whispered to him.

[Wikvaya]

Poor, poor Dwarves. They were terribly dull-witted. Or at least they were dull-witted enough that they didn't notice the only two people taller than them in this city were in a back alley chatting it up splendidly. Well, not so splendidly. In fact she rather looked like she was going to beat him up upon his hasty retrieval of her person. He was almost prepared to hit her first and then bolt.

Almost.

His devilishly handsome pleading had paid off after all, and she responded with a very well thought out and quite witty quip, if he did say so himself, and he did. She herself was most definitely a clever elf, and even a dimwitted elf would have pinned him for a werecat already. She wasn't dimwitted. Not with that quip.

Nevertheless, he replie-wait a minute. What was that she said? That sounded filled with innuendo. Oh dear...

"Oh indeed! Nights are always fun to prowl around in."

Wikvaya then grinned at her, flashing his pointed canines. Then he extends his consciousness towards her and probes at her mind. Obviously, being an elf, she would be very protected in the noggin. They always were. But a touch of his mind might cause her to let him in, at which time he'd mentally say:

"You're a clever one. Sexual comment and everything."

Of course, it didn't matter what her intended meaning was to him. He interpreted it like that.

He's devoted to his beliefs like that.

[Aisling]

"They are only if you know what your looking for," Aisling replied, with a sly smile.

She soon felt the probing at her mental barriers, she figured it was indeed the strange werecat that had accosted her. She quickly made sure all her memories of Faeon and all that she knew was well guarded before she allowed the foreign mind to touch her's.

You're a clever one. Sexual comment and everything."

Aisling laughed, pushing her hair behind one pointed ear with her cloth cover hand. What strange one this one was. She had not meant for her comment to be sexual but she could tell by the gleam in his eye that he was indeed mischievous, and bit too proud.

But yet again, so was she.

I have been known to clever from time to time, Aisling answered him.

Curiosity filled her about this stranger. Aisling had seen a couple werecats in her day, but known quite as peculiar. And she had never met one that was so suggestive.

Now, give me a reason why I shouldn't expose you to those dwarfs you cheated, she said in his mind, You should know I am not so easily persuaded.

A small smile crossed her lips, of course she wouldn't do that to him. Dwarves got themselves cheated by being so ignorant. They were bound to be tricked. But it is always fun to keep people on their toes.

That's how Aisling preferred to handle people, to keep them second guessing her motives, she loved keeping people on their toes.

[Wikvaya]

Again with the sly, barely sexual commentary. What was it with this girl? Was she some sort of sex icon? She didn't seem to have the unreadable-sens that most elves had, and Wikvaya began to assume that she was not in fact brought up by elves. Or she lacked some part of their culture, anyways. Namely, their poker faces.

Nevertheless, he answered rather smoothly.

"Ah, indeed, indeed."

"So I see. Do you do stand-up? You'd be good at stand up. At least with these Dwarves."

And then she gave him a question. It wasn't a very good question. It was a question that involved turning him over to the Dwarves. He would be forced to thoroughly own them. And that ruined the entire purpose of the daring escape. Didn't get his blood pumping nearly enough.

Battles never did. It's weird. What would normally incite a blood rage out of Humans and Dwarves and even Dragons barely affected his interest. He was good for a scuffle every now and again, but there was really no challenge to beating up drunks, especially drunk Dwarves. Battles in general? They just didn't do it for him.

But he would be forced into one if he didn't pay it cool. He flashes a fanged smile again, cat like eyes blinking.

"What about all my natural charm? Doesn't that count for anything?" Then he sagged his shoulders in a defeated motion. "Ugh, fine. What do you want? Couple coins? A petting session? Kiss? Hug? Want me to give you sagelike Werecat advice?"

[Aisling]

Well I ask is for you to tell me the fastest route to Farthen Dur. Aisling stated sharply.

That was all she really needed, she could live without food or money, but she needed the fastest way to get to the big city, so she can get the Ceremony over with so she and Faeon could be reunited again. This trip was already proving to be a strange adventure. Aisling had really not planned on running into werecats and angry dwarf mobs.

She had decided to tactfully remain silent about that stand-up comment, though she felt slightly insulted. Who was this cat to take a stab at her?

She narrowed her eyes at the blue-haired werecat. You do not strike me as the werecat to take any advice from. You got caught in your own trick. she said mentally. Her face immediately went blank as she said, And your charm is beginning to ware off.

Aisling sensed the dwarves' presence moving away from the alley and in a different direction. Good, perhaps I can finally travel in peace without notice, she thought to herself.

"They are moving away," she whispered out loud, "You may have managed to escape, but just give me the fastest route and we shall be on our own paths...Wherever that maybe."

[Wikvaya]

Farthen Dur, eh? Wikvaya was getting something. It was something moderately okay, and he felt neither here nor there about it. See, it is widely known Werecats can predict how certain events will play out and often advise people to act accordingly. Wikvaya himself scarcely did that, for noone was really in need of his advice, nor were they worthy for it. This one, though... Wikvaya always liked elves. They were better than most Humans and Dwarves, anyways.

But anyways, Wikvaya was currently "getting" was her purpose for going to Farthen Dur. He could see her, there, and her palm was shining immensely. Her palm... Ah, a dragon rider then. She should look more pristine if she wants to present herself as a rider.

"Huh. Farthen Dur, eh? Remember to dress appropriately."

Wikvaya was such a giver.

But then his further wit was interrupted. By... anger? Irritation? Irritation would be the better word. He inwardly and outwardly frowned. He hadn't meant to offend her. Really, he was just complimenting her clever wit. No need for her to snap back, yet she did. Everyone was always so offended by everything, especially when he wasn't trying to be offensive.

"Sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to. Farthen Dur, you say? Don't know the way outside, but I know the tunnels fairly well." He would often have to escape through them due to his many thefts of dwarven property. "I could lead you through them. You can't get directions through these things, after all."

This was true.

[Aisling]

"Huh. Farthen Dur, eh? Remember to dress appropriately."

Aisling tilted her head at the werecat's advice. What was wrong with her appearance. She thought about her current state. Her disheveled, travel worn state. Smooth hair a little rough, a torn tunic, and saddle worn leggings. Yeah, she did need to clean up. Traveling and flying around could really make a person 'windblown'.

"Sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to. Farthen Dur, you say? Don't know the way outside, but I know the tunnels fairly well. I could lead you through them. You can't get directions through these things, after all."


She thought for a moment. Did she really want to bring a long this stranger? As much as a mysterious and charming werecat he was, Aisling sensed all his capriciousness. She didn't really need to have to watch her back more than she had too. But she did find the werecat's wit and intelligence very refreshing and perhaps enjoyable. And it would be nice to have a traveling partner, now that she had separated from Faeon for the time being. She felt a bit of a heart pang at the thought.

"Thank you for the advice," she said, she knew that when a werecat offered advice it would be foolish not to listen. "I will take it to heart."

Aisling let out a small barely audible sigh. Now she had to decide if she truly needed a guide. She had always avoided dwarven territory becuase of their intricate undergrougnd roads and tunnels. Aisling hated not having the sun beaming on her face, and the smell of nature around her. She felt rather, dark, and uncomfortable underground. She always felt trapped. But Aisling wasn't ignorant. Not at all. She knew that is she wanted to make it to Farthen Dur without incident she would need a guide.

"I would gladly accept your help, werecat," she said, twisting her hands into an elven sign of respect.

This is going to be quite the adventure, she thought.

[Wikvaya]

She looked hesitant. Wikvaya knew his stuff, too. Well, his tunnel stuff. As he had mentioned before to himself, he was decent at navigating the vast expanse of tunnels that inhabited the underbelly of the Beor Mountains. Nevertheless, the elf seemed to be weighing the odds, judging which course of action would be wisest. Generally, people didn't trust him all that much. With good reason, of course, he robbed them blind of everything that he considered valuable. He rarely stole from Elves, however. They were clever. This might be considered a good challenge for any other ol' werecat of the world, but to Wikvaya it was just boring. They didn't even seem to care half the time, too. They would laugh with their pretty voices and compliment him. Absolutely infuriating.

Wikvaya nevertheless redonned his golden feldunost horns, picking up his hat and holding it in his hands.

It was funny how frivolously vain he was. Aside from the fact that he was wearing on his head priceless carved golden horns on his head, he had numerous golden necklaces and other chains tied to his hair, more than usually studded with gems. Similar gems studded the rings he kept on his fingers and in the numerous pouches he had around his belt. Truly, not modest in any way. But then, he wasn't wearing these things to stand out. He was wearing these things because they were beautiful and it would be stupid not to.

Nevertheless, he bowed low to the elf. Wait a minute... the elf? Can't just keep calling her Elf.

"Well, we should at least know each others names. I'm Wikvaya." He holds out a hand to shake, though if she shakes it he would bring her hand to his lips for a kiss of astonishing cheek, suaveness aside.

"Nice to meet you."

[Aisling]

"Well, we should at least know each others names. I'm Wikvaya."

Aisling took a hold of Wikvaya's hand completely the hand shake. The hand shake... a greeting she never quite understood. Maybe it was because of her elven upbringing or maybe it was because in the Golden Face tribe they never did such a thing. She had abandoned most of her elven practices years ago, and must of the somewhat human ones she had picked up during her time in Ilirea. In fact that only thing truly made her elf was her appearance and her arcane ways (Even though her appearance had trained drastically since her birth). She remembered traveling home back to Sílthrim, and everyone marveling and staring at her newly tattooed face and her pierced ears, they marveled only because they were all done by hand; not by magic. She remembered the ceremony, she remembered it all. It seemed like magic at the time, but she and Faeon had both known it wasn't. But not only did her whole apperance but her personality had changed drastically during that time. The things she learned from the magicians amongst that desert tribe...the secrets...permanently changed her, almost made her lose her mind to madness.

"I'm Aisling, nice to meet you as well," she replied with a small smile.

She raised her eyebrow as he kissed her hand, confusion no doubt written all over her face. And Aisling was very rarely confused. But she immediately put on her poker face and removed her hand and pushed back her hair behind her ears nonchalantly.

A feeling of relief flowed through her knowing that she wouldn't be alone on this journey. She had that empty feeling in her mind and heart without her white-scaled partner. Though obviously know one could replace him, it would be so nice to have company. Aisling had really grown tired of her and Faeon's isolation, that was indeed her main motivation into dwarven territory. Whether she was going to join the Varden or not was still flowing in her mind, and really wasn't her main concern. She honestly just wanted to be amongst strangers, she wanted to be amongst normal people. Though with the appearance of Wikvaya, it truly proved to her that no matter where she went, strange and mysterious things always seemed to happen.

I wonder what Faeon would think of all this.

She looked over at Wikvaya and truly studied him. He appeared to have acquired an obscene amount of wealth, and liked to adorn himself with it. Aisling couldn't help but play with gold chains and stones that adorned her own pointy-ears. She loved adorning her ears, it made her feel regal yet somewhat mystical. But the werecat and her seemed to share a similar vanity and confidence. Both in different ways. Traveling together would no doubt prove to be a clash of wills.

"If we are to be traveling together, I would really think it would be a good idea if you avoided cheating dwarfs for a little while," she said. She paused for a moment until she smiled, "Unless you allow me to join you."

[Wikvaya]

Wikvaya was about as gentlemanly to women as one could be, it was true. Whereas the men he got drunk and robbed, the women he'd always use the finer methods of robbery, the more sophisticated. He had grown quite adept at placing gentle flattery upon a woman's heart and stirring up confused, and undoubtedly aroused strings. Such a deceitful tune he played, but oh how he enjoyed it. Made life interesting, and he was all about the interest.

And speaking of interest, her bustle at his forwardness was very entertaining. True, she had hidden her emotions behind a mask of emotionlessness and even rescinded from the contact, but her brief slip told him everything he needed to know. And what he needed to know was that... he didn't know what he needed to know. But it sure would be fun to find out. Gentle flirting mode, activate.

"Pretty thing like yourself? Nice to meet might be an understatement. Your tattoos are nice, also."

Flawless.

He plays off any awkardness that may ensue with a charming and undoubtedly bemused smile, and idly looked into her eyes, tilting his head. Her tattoos were indeed nice. Beautiful, even, were he so bold to say. They seemed to have a lot in common when it came to appearance, her and he. And he was okay with that.

Or he would have been, had the inebriated beards from before not doubled back and, wouldn't you know it, spotted the only two tall people in this whole city.

"There he is! Let's get him!"

Group of angry Dwarves running at you, shouting drunken war cries and unsheathing weapons? Yep, now was definitely the time to go. He quickly snatched Aisling by the hand and led her down the alleyway with astonishing agility, the alleyway thankfully not being a dead end. However, there did happen to be a wall blocking their path. Perhaps it was a dead end after all. Nevertheless, he leaped onto it and swung himself over. This was, perhaps, time to be the gentleman again. Or not, but he felt like doing so anyways. He would lean his body over the top of the wall and offer a hand to help Aisling over. Efficiently quick and uncharacteristically helpful.

It was a win win.

[Aisling]

"Pretty thing like yourself? Nice to meet might be an understatement. Your tattoos are nice, also."

Aisling blinked a few times, now she thought herself to be beautiful and she had from time to time heard it from others, but it was always a shock when someone referred to her to be pretty. Especially when it came to her tattoo's, she thought they were perfect and that she was far more beautful with them. She appreciated it when someone else appreciated them.

Wikvaya looked into her eyes, smiling some amused, charming smile, and Aisling looked back and found herself smiling a little bit herself.

Men. She had known a fair share. But all had very little charm, and never would dare to be so forward. She knew when a man was using his charm, however little he may have. Human men she had dealings with always had so little charm, it was actually rather cute how hard they'd try but always fall short. Their own women would be right by their side, waiting to save the from heartbreak but they would just ignore them, and still chase after what they couldn't have. Elven men, were so charming and romantic about their intentions but it was often a slow process. And elfs by nature are so fickle, that by the time you were in love, you were on your way to loving someone else. But being a werecat, Wikvaya was different. He had to much charm for his own good.

"There he is! Let's get him!"

Aisling immediately turned her head to see the dwarfs from before. Her hand quickly went to the sword by her hip, when Wikvaya grabbed her hand and took her down the rest of the alley. She was getting bit tired of being dragged around by the werecat. They came to a stone wall and Aisling wa prepared to find another way out when she watched Wikvaya swing himself over it effortlessly. She was about to jump over it herself, when she saw him lean down and offer her a hand. She was elf, she could tackle a wall like this in her sleep; but, she took his hand anyways . She didn't really use it to help, she just swung over the wall, and when she landed lightly on the ground. She released his hand.

"You really upset some sensitive dwarves" she stated, a little frustrated.

[Wikvaya]

Everything was going splendidly until now. Wikvaya had had a plan of how this was going to work. Wait... he didn't. That was a lie. But he still thinks it was going well! Subtle flirting always goes well. He even elicited a smile from her, and probably caught some bashfulness in there. No, not bashfulness. But she carried a certain... giddiness now that she'd been complimented.

At least until they were rudely interrupted.

When they were rudely interrupted, and the successive fleeing occurred, the tone of everything changed dramatically. While this might be considered an exhilarating experience for Wikvaya, Aisling seemed to be irritated. Downright pissed off, really. This made him frown, and look towards the group that was charging them, furrowing his brows. They had pissed her off. And/or she was just a flip flop type of emotional girl.

Ah well. It was still time to go. They could make up later.

He smirked slyly to her and replied via mind. "That I did. Probably because I robbed them of most of their coin." His smirk widened, and he nodded to her. "We should probably go, though."

He began to run, quite agilely, towards where he knew the descent into the tunnels was, bag of coin shouldered. He hoped she would follow, because they'd have undoubtedly seen her with him by now, and might assume the worst.

Just a little thing to note.

[Aisling]

Aisling immediately took off after him, her stride graceful and long. She made sure to not overtake Wikvaya because she had absolutely no idea where to go. It was one of those times to be the follower, not the leader. Aisling smiled, as memories of her childhood swam up in her conscious, running with her twin through the forest and even those races she and Faeon had when he was still little. She would run below him and he would fly above, he always won of course but the thrill of running was what Aisling loved the most. Now she didn't like to be chased, no she caught her fair share of being chased during the Fall of the Riders. And to be honest she could live without being chased for the rest of her life. Kialandi had chased her all the way to the desert before injuring her. That was the scariest chase of her life, the scariest moment of her life.

Aisling quickly covered up her swirling memories from the mental link she and Wikvaya had established. She had felt a little bad, for her frustration showing so readily. It wasn't him, it was just that feeling of being chased. She hated it. But she could tell that the werecat got a thrill out of it. She could inderstand why, it always got your heart pumping, and your mind racing. It had been awhile since she had to deal with those feelings. This trip had already thrown her out of her comfort zone.

I'm sorry for my frustration, she shared in his mind, I've never really had much love for people brandishing weapons at me.

It was true, Aisling hated people who immediately went toward violence. It was just simple blood lust and a desire to be more manly. She personally she just saw it as rash and reckless. Two things she herself often was, but in a more tactful thoughtful manner. She would reach for her weapon, but not draw till there was a real threat. She could always use magic, but even though she did love to use magic, it wasn't a real honest way to fight.

As she ran, she noticed the strip of cloth that she had placed over her Gedwëy ignasia had gone missing. Aisling rolled her eyes as she realized it must of cgotten stuck on the wall when she climbed over. She immediately clenched her fist to cover it, but she she knew she'd have to re-bound it as soon as it was safe to stop running.

This adventure was really not going to plan.

[Wikvaya]

Truthfully, this was how Wikvaya normally dealt with the Dwarves.

Ordinarily he can't go anywhere Dwarven in his human form without meeting a Dwarf he had cheated out of something shiny. And he'd be run out of town. He actually prefers to be run out of town. Walking out is rather boring, especially when the guards call you "Sir". He hated that. They deserved claws to the face. When he was run out of town, he was able to outsmart, outrun, and generally outdo his pursuers.

Not unlike that one time in Farthen Dur, the very place they were headed. It was where he had robbed the Dwarves of their prized golden attires. He had been in there, marveling at Isildar Mithrim and fantasizing about what he would do with a gem that big, when he decided he needed to get that thing off his mind. So he went to a hall of relics, or something similar to that, and spotted, quite innocently, a pair of horns sitting on a pedestal. They were gold, and they were irresistibly beautiful. Across from this sat another pedestal, with a matching set of chain. He had to have them both. So he took them both. He later found out he wasn't supposed to take them both. Go figure.

But then she assured him her irritation was not because of him. That's alright in his book.

"It's quite alright, Dear. You seem like the kind of gal who wouldn't like that."

It was true. Volatile was a word to describe how she looked, yes, but she didn't seem to look like she'd intentionally pick a fight with you. Elves rarely picked fights, and she seemed to want to less so. Maybe it had something to do with her being a Dragon Rider, who knows?

But nevertheless, the path they were fleeing on became steeper, becoming a tunnel very quickly. The sounds of angry dwarven shouts soon died down, an Wikvaya stopped running after a while, ears perking.

"I think we lost them. Wasn't that fun?"

[Aisling]

Aisling watched has the path soon turned to tunnels. Aisling took a deep breath before going in. She hated tunnels, she hated the cramped in feeling. She preferred the beauty of the sky and the beauty of the ground, but not a dark rock tunnel. Aisling hadn't been in a tunnel before, really. This was actually her second trip in dwarven territory but the first trip was merely just a part of her training. She smiled a bit at the thought that she had returned as a fully fledged rider.

She stopped running, as Wikvaya stopped. It looked like she hadn't even been running. When most people ran, sweat poured down their face, they looked disheveled and messy. But she always looked the way she started, as if nothing happened.

"I think we lost them. Wasn't that fun?"


"Oh Indeed," Aisling replied to Wikvaya, not really meaning it.

Aisling noted that the werecat acted like being chased was a normal occurrence. But that was proven by the way he adorned himself, with all that gold and precious stones. It had to be heavy. She looked at the those golden feldunost horns that he wore. She eyed them curiously, she swore that they were a relic of some sort.

Aisling frowned as she yet again had to rip another strip of cloth from her tunic. The whute tunic she was wearing now was made by the Golden Faced tribe. It was simple and cool, meant to keep the body from over heating in the desert. She looked at the strip she was ripping, one of her many names was embrodiered in strange desert runes along the hem. Abhaillí, she thought to herself. Her other name, the name she thought was hers all those years ago. The same name could've been given to Wikvaya. It meant mischievous and mysterious. Aisling sighed as she wrapped the cloth around her shinning palm, thinking of her desert family. They had saved her life all those years ago and adopted and taught her their ways. They were mystified by the appearance of Aisling and Faeon. They had only seen the wild dragons that had called the Hadrac Desert their home. But very few members of the tribe were old enough to remember. Nothing was more depressing then watching the people who had healed and cared for die over time, while she remained on changed and unweathered. She would not give up her long life for anything, but it still bothered her.

"How long do you think it'll take to get to Farthen Dur?"

[Wikvaya]

Wikvaya himself didn't mind tunnels too much. As was said before, he used them frequently in dealings with the Dwarves. They also provided... a sense of security. Even the Dwarves don't know much about navigating them, save for a few dedicated individuals. And noone knew where they were going. They were, more or less, "in the clear", as it were. And now he had Aisling and whatever valuables she had all to himself. Oh what fun they would have! Well, they wouldn't, because he wasn't going to rob her blind. He could never rob such a pretty face, at least a pretty elven face. They were pretty dang hard to cheat.

Nevertheless, they had paused in what was a pretty deep, pretty dark corridor scarcely lit by pale lanterns. The lanterns would soon cease as they went into the deep dark, but that didn't matter. Wikvaya saw better in the dark, and he was fairly certain Elves were pretty good at seeing in it as well. If they weren't, they were very good at magic, and thus she could summon a source of light anyways.

He then sensed her sarcasm, obvious though it may be.

"Oh come now, sarcasm doesn't suit such a pretty voice."

Wikvaya was never one to miss a chance to flirt with a woman. That got you into their good books, it did. But in case it didn't, he threw in a playful smile for good measure.

He raised an eyebrow at her scrutiny, next. She always did like to look him over. Perhaps to make note of flaws? Perhaps to watch for signs of suspicious motives? He didn't know. Nor did he care, really. He merely shrugged and looked at her as she covered up her gedwëy ignasia. It was at this time he truly frowned. Was she so insecure about her position as a rider? Did she truly desire to hide who she was from him, who had sensed it the minute he wanted to?

"And cloth doesn't suit such a pretty, shining hand, Dear."

[Aisling]

"Oh come now, sarcasm doesn't suit such a pretty voice."

Aisling laughed, a beautiful elven laugh. She was rather amused with Wikvaya's constant flirting. It was flattering of course, but she knew when someone was a a charmer. And Aisling was not so easily won. Flattery has never been the key to her heart. Though, if she was honest, she didn't even know what the key to her own heart was. She had never really thought about it. Too busy, too wrapped up in her thoughts and mind. She was the emotional sort and did very much lead with her heart, but when it came to love and friendship...well...her knowledge was limited for she often always made the same mistake. She always pushed people away or kept them too close. Aisling knew how fleeting things were compared to her life span. She knew that she could outlast time, while others would wither away. She just wasn't prepared to handle that.

"Flattery will get you no where, Wikvaya," she said with a smile.

Aisling tossed her white hair as she squinted in the darkness. Her ability to see in the dark was mediocre at best. She had very little expierence with wandering around in the dark.

"Garjzla," she said as a ball of white light appeared in her hand, repelling the darkness of the tunnel. She allowed the ball of light to float above them. The toll on her energy was very little. Minor spells had very little effect on her now, and that was something she was quite proud off. In fact, a smile lit up her face as she admired her ball of light. She had cast much bigger and more wonderous spells before, but it was the simple brilliance of the light that made her so jovial.

As Aisling recovered her shinning palm. she noticed Wikvaya watching her.

"And cloth doesn't suit such a pretty, shining hand, Dear."

She let out a sigh. Of course he had figured it out, he was a werecat he probably could find out anything about her if he wanted too. She under estimated her companion, and probably not for the last time.

"Ah, so you knew. Indeed I'm a rider, The White Rider to be more exact," she said removing the cloth from her hand, admiring it's silvery glow. Her heart dropped as she yet again remembered her separation from Faeon. "I suppose I should've guess you would've known. It was foolish to even try and cover it up.