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Post by enchilada on Apr 20, 2019 18:44:05 GMT
Dhaunmyr rolled his eyes. “What did I tell you, my darling? I simply am nothing but a disappointment in this case! In most, actually, but this specifically, perhaps. Men like me aren’t cut out for this kind of thing! Even if I managed it at some point, I can barely get through string slap! Although, of course, it doesn’t happen too often anymore, it certainly used to...” He trailed off. Of course it used to. It’s not a matter of technique, either, far more likely the bow is incorrect for the person, rather it’s quite difficult to purposely cause a bruise through bad release alone.
He took the time to hold his wrist limply, not out of any discomfort, he just was suddenly unsure as to where his hand should be. Odd. As he did so, he watched Kara’s demonstrations, and eventually moved with her, with a slight shaking uncertainty. He slightly flinched away from touch, but allowed her corrections after the first fearful glance sent her way.
He was good at taking instructions and following them as best he could, he was also pretty awful at saying no. But what he would finally speak up about were the rings. His thumb ring seemed a plain gold band, but in fact bore a rather elaborate symbol, although not on the traditional finger, it was clearly his signet ring, and, in terms of Dhaunmyr himself, it was clearly his signet ring, roses and a beautifully cursive last initial. If it wasn’t already obvious from his introductory stutter and the name itself, Dhaunmyr wasn’t exactly who he said he was, at least in terms of blood. The next one was the middle finger of the same hand, a silver ring, complicated natural patterns danced around the band. It seemed very elven in style. These he handed to Kara without a second thought, but the last ring, he stared at for a second before shaking his head.
“It’s already been enough of a pain, I’m sure it won’t be such a shock.” He spoke almost fondly, twisting the ring around his finger.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 20, 2019 19:27:28 GMT
It would have been the worst sort of hypocrisy for Kara to get annoyed with Dhaunmyr for flinching away from her. In all honesty – she didn’t. She was more annoyed by the way he kept putting himself down, although she told herself, repeatedly, that it was clear he couldn’t help it, and that she needed to be patient.
“It’s hard for everyone at first,” It was Rolond who responded, his cheerful voice kind, even if the comment had been clearly addressed at Kara. “Most people break their hand the first time they really hit someone,” he chuckled. “I did – cracked one knuckle and broke a bone outright,” he held his hand up, turning it from side to side; his hands were much larger than either Kara’s or Dhaunmyr’s, brown and rough with big square fingers.
Kara shrugged, running her fingers through the end of her braid and looking at Dhaunmyr. “I broke my arm in my first real fight,” Kara added. There was no sense of shame or embarrassment in her voice, nor pride; it was merely a thing that had happened.
“Ahh, but I’ll bet the other had it worse,” Rolond teased, grinning down at Kara.
Kara shook her head. “Got away clean,” there was some sting at that, and she scowled a little at the memory. It was painful – it had been painful at the time – but now it was tinged with sweetness and a deeper sort of sadness. Healing in the infirmary after she’d had her father, her mother, and Captain Ironfist. Back then, she’d had – her mind shied away from the name, and Kara pulled herself forcibly back to the present.
Kara accepted the gold and silver bands. She and Rolond exchanged glances again, and Kara looked back at Dhaunmyr.
“… It could damage the ring,” Kara warned him, looking down at it. She couldn’t see much of the details, but she could tell it had precious stones in it; light contact would be unlikely to do much damage, but Kara didn’t know much about rings, and she thought the last thing Dhaunmyr needed to discourage him further was to ruin something clearly important to him.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 20, 2019 19:39:29 GMT
“Last time I— nevermind.” He held back from contributing, chewing the inside of his lip. Last time he’d gotten into any kind of fight was probably with his sister the day before he left. He was spending too much time out of the house, she didn’t like that. She didn’t like the way he was always getting these weird scrapes and burns, and she most definitely didn’t like all the money he magically seemed to have. So in order to show how much she cared about him getting hurt, she dragged his arm so hard he could have sworn something went pop, and locked him out of the house to show how angry she was about him never being home. Needless to say, he left to the surface as soon as he could, without a word.
Well. He let his matron’s consort know he was going. He had to know that he would be cooking the first meal.
Dhaunmyr shook his head. “Good thing I don’t tend to get into fights. If any part of me broke she’d, well. I know someone who wouldn’t be very happy.” He still had a slight warmth in his voice. He frowned, though, as he finally twisted the ring off of his finger. From under his shirt, he pulled out a rather large amulet on a long golden chain, he had to unbutton the collar to fetch it out, then he undid the clasp and threaded the ring onto it, tucking the necklace back in with its new addition, and fixed the button behind his neck again.
“Fine. Twisted my leg. But I’m not giving her to you.”
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 20, 2019 19:48:59 GMT
Kara nodded in approval; she didn’t care at all what Dhaunmyr did with the ring, so long as he wasn’t wearing it while he tried to punch.
Self-defense training, Kara decided, probably wouldn’t be enough for Dhaunmyr. He would need some running practice as well. Her eyes dropped to his little boots. He was, she had to admit, surprisingly competent in them; he’d certainly run well enough down the streets before he’d turned back. All the same, Kara thought it would be for the best to put him through his paces a bit. If he didn’t want to practice fighting, he could at least practice running away.
And who was this… she? Kara couldn’t usually follow everything Dhaunmyr was saying, but there was a warmth in his voice that she didn’t think she’d heard before. Maybe she – whoever she was – would protect him. That would be helpful.
“Well then,” Rolond lifted the pad. He was a very good natured man; it really didn’t seem to bother him that Dhaunmyr had yet to actually speak to him directly or acknowledge him in any way. “Feel free to use some of that strength,” Rolond told Dhaunmyr, bracing the pad. “You won’t hurt me through this.”
Kara nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting. “First two knuckles,” she reminded Dhaunmyr. “Take it slow at first.” After this, they would need to try elbows. Kara was happy to stand there glaring all day, if that was what it would take.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 20, 2019 20:11:42 GMT
Dhaunmyr looked at the pad, and carefully made what he would suppose was a decent fist, at least by the things Kara had shown him. First two knuckles. Take it slow.
“I’m only really strong when it comes to pulling on things, surely it’s a different set of muscles, movements and such when it comes to pushing.” He laughed to himself. Goddess, he was an absolute idiot for agreeing to this. But, a small part of him wanted maybe not to impress Kara, because frankly he wouldn’t and couldn’t, not with this, but he could appease her. Surface women were so much easier to understand, and Kara especially, seemed... simple. Everything was. And free. Those two things were absolutely what entranced him up here.
He took the first slow swing. He felt bad about thinking about her, and thinking about Kara so close together. What did the guilt mean? He couldn’t deny an admiration for either, but one was obviously so much more intense. Not to mention the fact that he had felt mostly the same towards just about every woman he’d ever met — a learned thing, of course, he doubted it was natural but by now the nurture was in his nature — so it wasn’t anything special. Maybe that was it. Maybe she wasn’t anything special, not really. That’s why he felt so guilty about it.
A second hit, a bit faster, a bit harder. But suppose that wasn’t the case. After all, they had been so very very close. Well, Kara hadn’t been outright cruel to him, and she seemed to care at least a bit about him as an individual, that much was evident, since she actually, say, listened to what he had to say, and applied it. So that was throwing him off. That was the thing, the people he knew so far, he wasn’t sure to the extent that they cared about him, as much as having some project to put a gold stamp on, say they did a good thing. That wasn’t necessarily the worst thing that anyone had ever wanted from him, but he knew he deserved more than that. Everyone did. A genuine relationship, whatever, everyone should get that. Everything he knew seemed to be impersonal or too personal. He knew he could grow on his own. And Kara was just helping, or it seemed that way.
Dhaunmyr seemed to actually be trying now, genuine punches, all carefully copying the technique he’d been shown. Not all perfect, but what else was new? Definitely not her. The ring was foreign against his chest, and something about it actively angered him. No one had tried to get something out of Dhaunmyr like she had. After she got the acceptance to train with the Priestesses, she turned into a fucking bitch. It was all a game to her. She got poisoned by them. It was the demon, and all her asskissing priestesses that just sat around and... did what, exactly? Clerics up here were for healing and soothing, no matter the god. All they did was cause pain, they made people suffer and to absolutely no end. People should know they can get out of there, there’s another way. A better way. No one should have to live like that. Not in the dark, not in fear, not in the smell of thousands of corpses that can’t quite get up to the surface to drift away. And no one should end up so changed by one little choice that they ruin a perfectly good set of lives.
He kept going, in his eyes were flashes of anger that he shook away. He couldn’t help but focus on it, focus on what was really just... everything sucked.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 21, 2019 6:15:33 GMT
Kara and Rolond would both let Dhaunmyr punch for - well - as long as he wanted.
At first Rolond was just sort of holding the pad up with his hard, carefully keeping it at an easy height for Dhaunmyr. Then he was bracing it with his other hand. Then he was bracing it with his entire body, knees bent to keep him in the same place.
Kara crossed her arms over her chest, eyes on Dhaunmyr. She wasn’t skilled at reading people, but if she had to guess it was anger flashing in his eyes. Anger at her, for making him do this? Kara didn’t think so. Anger at whomever had hurt him, whoever made him flinch from even gentle touches? Kara hoped so.
By the time Dhaunmyr stopped his hands would - ache. The skin between his knuckles was scraped, mostly between the first two but also along the others, from the times he’d slipped and hit further down his hand. His hands would throb, all over but mostly the first two knuckles; it wasn’t quite like a bruise, but there would certainly be a soreness to them.
“Very good,” Rolond pulled the mitt off, chucking and shaking out his hand. “I’ll get you some balm for those hands,” he shook his head, making his way out of the practice room.
“Very good,” Kara agreed, nodding to Dhaunmyr. She hesitated, wanting to push him a little further. She thought maybe it was a mistake but - he was finally doing so well. He finally seemed interested in what they were doing, even if only as an outlet for what she thought was anger.
“Elbows,” Kara said, finally. She glanced down at her shirt, and finally stripped it off - it hadn’t really been doing much of anything other than covering her arms anyway. The corner of the room had a heavy sack stuffed with something mounted on a wooden stake, and Kara pushed it out towards them.
“Like this,” Kara bent her arm and brought the front of her elbow, where it met her forearm, into the dummy. “Or this,” she leaned forward past it and slammed her elbow back against it. She looked back at Dhaunmyr, expecting him to try.
Even if he did he wouldn’t have time for more than a few strikes before Rolond returned with a small jar and some cloth bandages. “This’ll help with the scrapes,” he offered the jar to Dhaunmyr. “Go ahead and rub it in to your knuckles,” Rolond explained, then paused, glancing at the bag. “If you mean to keep practicing, we’ll wrap them up afterwards,” he said. “Keep you from any more scrapes.”
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Post by enchilada on Apr 21, 2019 10:28:23 GMT
He didn’t really pay anything much mind, he stopped eventually. He wasn’t entirely sure what brought him to stop, it felt like he could go for ages. But he didn’t. He finally focused on his hands, seeming to be pretty upset with the way they had ended up. Dhaunmyr wasn’t sure if he’d personally be comfortable with scrapes like that being on such full display, and it was too hot for him to really wear gloves anymore. But he had pockets most of the time, it wouldn’t be too bad. His main worries were selling and going back to the inn. He tried his best to be immaculate, always, he supposed no one would notice, the skin wouldn’t take so long to recover, but there was still the faint possibility... not something that filled him with a great deal of confidence. And Faerveren noticed everything. She noticed when he’d had a drink, she noticed when he was trying to get to his room and be alone for a while. She noticed when he’d gone out to do pretty much anything. He’d just have to keep quiet about it, he didn’t know how she would react but he figured it wouldn’t be positive.
“Right...” Dhaunmyr said, softly. He seemed a little uncertain again, and in truth he felt like he’d done something wrong. The confirmation told him that wasn’t the case, but it did pull at him to feel differently, somehow. “But, Kara, I’ll need you to explain this whole thing to my friends, alright? They won’t take this from me. I have a feeling they’ll believe you, though.” He didn’t need to wow her with words, or just throw them at the wall until something stuck. Kara probably thought he was ridiculous for going on at such lengths, anyway. She was so practical. She already knew he was a bit eccentric, he didn’t need to confirm it by any means. And it certainly wasn’t erasing any of his personality, as such. Most things about him were a little edged with mistruths, but so was everything. Except, apparently, Kara’s patience. In her place, he’d already be done with himself.
He walked over, copying what he’d been shown as well as he could, just two strikes, before Rolond came back. He took the jar, and smiled to the man. “Thank you, dear sir.” He briefly glanced at the others before, again, doing what he was told to. Instructions were pretty simple. It wasn’t even in a bad way, he wasn’t scared of not complying. So deep down he knew he wanted to, he knew he wanted to get better, it was just odd that it was happening. To him, at least, it felt rather spontaneous, so many things happened in Waterdeep, it was just that none of them seemed to have anything to do with his business. He didn’t mind so much. He would have liked to expand it, but at the same time, anything that was personal felt more precious. It wouldn’t earn him more money, but... he was told it wasn’t the root of happiness. It did help, of course, but it started with him.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 21, 2019 13:00:01 GMT
Explain? To his friends? Explain what?
It was Kara’s turn to look uncomfortable. The easy manner of Kara-as-instructor lifted, just a little, but - Kara didn’t exactly feel she could refuse. Slowly, she nodded her agreement. Even if it was for Dhaunmyr’s own good, she was the one who had dragged him here for training. She could explain whatever it was that needed explaining to his friends. Hopefully he would tell her what it was before she actually had to do it.
It was a bit of a surprise to Kara that Dhaunmyr followed the instructions so easily - all of the instructions. He was clearly capable, but before he had fought and argued every step of the way. His new acceptance was either encouraging or worrying and Kara wasn’t really sure which.
After Dhaunmyr finished with the balm, Rolond would help him wrap up his knuckles, just basically winding a few lengths of bandage around each hand to cover the scraped spots. He grinned at them both.
“Need anything else from me?” He asked Kara.
Kara shook her head. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Rolond said cheerfully. “If you have time for a spar...?”
Kara nodded.
Rolond left, and Kara turned back to Dhaunmyr. “Elbows?” She prompted again.
Once Dhaunmyr had thrown a few more elbow strikes, Kara would - finally - put together some combinations for him to practice, sets of elbow strikes that could be delivered together, and one that used elbow strikes and a palm strike, presumably a little more comfortable to deliver with rings on, and step back to let him work through some repetitions on the bag.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 21, 2019 13:36:51 GMT
“Elbows.” He sighed. It was a sort of joking begrudging tone, but he still sort of felt it. Sort of. In a way, it meant Kara couldn’t complain too much if he dragged her someplace else, which he was quietly thinking about doing, in honesty. After this he’d definitely need to relax for at least the rest of the day. He could show her some things, at least if she wasn’t already good at them.
Dhaunmyr didn’t want to focus too heavily on his real main concerns, so he casually brought up some things that hopefully people would assume did actually bother him, as he followed through with strikes, and then with sequences of hits.
“So, basically, and don’t take this the wrong way my dear because it suits you most tastefully, I have to put in practice to a skill I don’t particularly care for, for myself, just because some idiots can’t learn the difference between fact and fiction? Of course if I saw a person I knew to be involved in such activities skulking around I might do something rather reckless about it, but there are entire families here, I heard of at least two. I think the children around here think I am deaf, but I do listen. I think one mistook me entirely for someone else, then scurried off, talking to some unseen figure about an old friend, or so I presume. So I’m not even an anomaly, these are people who live and breathe here as any other citizen. I dread to think how they simply... go on.”
It took quite a long time to say what he had on his mind, and it wasn’t even the lot of it, but it was a good summary. And it took so long because he wasn’t just hitting the thing, shaking his head and ranting, he was putting in some considerable effort, more than he really had in much physical before. Archery was just one of the few things he could always just do, after he’d figured out the proper positions. This wasn’t necessarily natural to him, but it wasn’t naturally difficult, like pastry. That was one thing he’d had to work and work at, and only because he didn’t want to be reprimanded for subpar desserts.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 21, 2019 16:13:12 GMT
Kara stared at Dhaunmyr as he spoke. It wasn’t a complaint exactly; there was a question buried in there somewhere. Why was she making him do this? No - was she making him do this because she thought people would pick on him?
Throughout, though, he was working the bag, hitting steadily with his elbows and palms. Kara was glad to see it; if that fear was why he accepted the training, well, at least he accepted it.
“No,” Kara shook her head, looking at the bag. “Elbow higher,” she said.
After a moment, Kara scratched her head. “Maybe,” she amended. She was quiet again, not sure how to explain. Kara wasn’t good at this. She didn’t know how to say it; she didn’t even really know what she wanted to explain. Maybe it was that she thought Dhaunmyr was more vulnerable than average, but it wasn’t just that he’d been attacked today; it was his whole attitude, everything about him which told her he had been hurt before. That didn’t have anything to do with him being a dark elf, or maybe it did, but it wasn’t unique to them.
Kara ran her fingers through the end of her hair, watching Dhaunmyr train.
“Those who can’t defend themselves get hurt,” Kara said finally. “Not just - dark elves. Everyone.” She swallowed, hard. “I can’t - save everyone,” she shrugged a little, embarrassed to have half-admitted that it was a goal of hers to try. “But I can train you.”
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Post by enchilada on Apr 21, 2019 17:03:32 GMT
Dhaunmyr had a joke just behind his lips but he kept it to himself. She already knew his feelings, there was no need to drive it home. Or rather, drive it home any more than he already had. He did decide to speak, but with praises and warmth, rather than the banterous smirk he had for a second. “‘Tis very kind, very noble of you, my dear.” He pursed his lips as he continued to strike the bag. He’d stop in a minute, rather the open ended metaphorical minute that meant just about any length of time than the precise timing of a minute. Dhaunmyr knew he had to get back, and he was pretty mentally drained, but for Kara, this was her thing. Her want. He would indulge her a while longer. But it wasn’t exactly of a fixation of a facet of his character, or his background. Not even a slice of his profits, which he’d definitely felt before. If he picked up on such a motive, he would have left.
“Alright. I really need to go and probably immerse myself in some trivial romantic literature for a few hours, but I’m not getting back to my book without passing Faerveren Songsteel and Brennip Rockhearth, however, as I said, this?” He brought back some of his tone, his vague airs and excitement, but it was in some kind of jest. He’d revealed enough to make it obvious it was a falsehood of his personality, and, however fun it could be, he wasn’t particularly into it when it came to conversations that ever meant anything. As he did so, he motioned towards the hand situation. “They’re not going to accept a lie or the truth for, not without someone to back it up, and before you say they’re just friends, just brush it off... they like to get overprotective, and Faerveren isn’t particularly... smart... when it comes to picking her battles. I don’t want some random blonde woman showing up in the middle of the night, looking for your head, as well as those delinquents from the alley. I think they got your point already. So, all this in mind, I also think I’d like to show you something in return. You don’t have to give anything a go, but ‘tis only fair! It’s also a secret and if you mention it to anyone I will hang you from the tallest spire in the city by your intestines! That’s a direct translation of a phrase that means please don’t.”
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 21, 2019 18:05:22 GMT
Dhaunmyr didn’t say much which, Kara thought, was the best possible response. She let him finish up his training, offering a few quiet corrections which she was pleased to see quickly taken up.
Finally Dhaunmyr pulled back, and Kara nodded, accepting that he was done. It seemed like enough, for that day. She would need to tell him about practicing. He trained with a bow; surely he knew he needed to practice? Without her physically there she didn’t think he would do it. Kara resigned herself to making this a project, thinking of what she would need to do and accepting it, letting herself make peace with it.
Dhaunmyr asked her to come with him. Kara took a deep breath, and nodded. Slowly, she pulled her mostly burnt shirt back on. The center gave up entirely, ripping through, and Kara glanced down at herself, with the two arms of the shirt hanging off her shoulders, the entirety of her torso visible, including the long, harsh new scar along her side, still vivid and red even with the recent removal of her stitches. She had new scars on one shoulder as well, three parallel slices, better healed than her side.
Kara also wore two necklaces, neither fancy, one which was just a heavy key that Dhaunmyr had seen before, belonging to her lock. The second looked like a large bear claw, woven into a leather thong and sitting atop her breastband.
Slowly, slowly, Kara stripped the arms off. She didn’t like it, but she had walked around the city in worse.
She looked back up at Dhaunmyr and nodded again. She would - give it a go, as he had said. Whatever it was. Kara walked to the door, ruined shirt balled in one hand and glaive rescued from the wall and held in the other, waiting for Dhaunmyr. She would come back to train later, she decided; she was sure she would need a training dance by the end of this.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 21, 2019 18:30:43 GMT
He didn’t watch it happen, he was busy sorting out his ring that he’d put on his amulet’s chain, but when he turned back around, the shirt was certainly ruined, if it wasn’t beforehand. It was unfortunate it was so hot — if it wasn’t, he may have had a coat on him, but she seemed satisfied that she wasn’t completely exposed, and, to be honest, it was pretty modest in his opinion, or at least in past experience, so he didn’t really pay too much mind. The injuries were interesting, and he briefly studied them with a tilted head. “What have you been fighting?” The scars on her shoulder, he knew of nothing natural so large. So capable. But Kara didn’t read as the demon killing type, or at least, not yet.
”I suppose you’ll want me back, practising at some stage. I have an entirely spontaneous schedule, but I’ll see if I can’t get a spot permanently reserved for this kind of thing. When would work best? I also need some time to arrange things, so, don’t just say tomorrow. As sure as I am that you’re desperate to see me.” He said, with a smirk, but it was pretty much the opposite, as far as he could tell, Kara just sort of knew him, and he enjoyed spending time with someone who had more to listen to than to say. But he wouldn’t mind listening, if she ever had anything to say, not that he had it in him to ever ask.
”Alright, let’s make a move before it gets past my lunch arrangement and I lose an eye for standing up a to-be-married couple. Honestly, these girls are going to kill me faster than any idiots with rusty knives.” He sauntered off, although reaching the blocks, he of course waited for Kara to pass him. So he barely sauntered anywhere.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 21, 2019 18:54:29 GMT
Kara glanced down at her shoulder. There was a trash bin outside, where she dumped her shirt - it wasn’t worth saving. She touched the scars with two fingers. “A bear,” she told Dhaunmyr. After a moment, to demonstrate, she tugged at the little leather thong and indicated the claw, before letting it rest back down against her breast band.
Next, Kara touched her side, more gingerly. “An - orc-kin,” Kara hadn’t exactly been sure what he was. She still wasn’t, although she wouldn’t forget his face; next time she wouldn’t lose.
“Dawn?” Kara suggested, when Dhaunmyr asked about times. She was working frequently at night and sometimes during the day, and it seemed to her that it would be best to meet early in the morning. “Here.” Here they would have space at least; she knew the training area was open at night as well. She utterly ignored Dhaunmyr’s joke that she was desperate to see him, dismissing it.
Kara waited for a moment, and upon realizing Dhaunmyr wasn’t going, went out the door in front of him. She went down the stairs, back out to the street. She remembered where he stayed, from their last meeting, and started that way, waiting for Dhaunmyr both to be polite and to check the way. She would let him set the pace and the conversation, her usual taciturn self.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 21, 2019 19:43:35 GMT
“A bear?” Dhaunmyr was no further educated by her statement. He knew what an orc was, but a bear? Whatever it was, it was big. An animal, judging by the indication to the claw, a wicked instrument. He hoped it wasn’t terribly sharp anymore, but he didn’t want to condescend, it seemed quite the natural thing to do, dull down any weapon if it was intended to be decorative. It was nice that Kara was at least a little concerned with such things, even if it was a piece of what he assumed was now a corpse. Well, that just made her pretty typical. Or something slightly derogatory about Underdark culture.
“Haha, yes?” His grin faded when he realised she meant the time dawn, not the person Dhaun. He coughed, and shook his head. “No promises, you hear? I uh. I’m usually... preoccupied.” His hands steepled loosely, and he looked at the ground, awkwardly. He didn’t know whether it was worse to explain that he liked to sleep, or that he often had to trance fairly early in the morning because he couldn’t stop himself drinking late into the night, and then he had to run back to his lodgings, often without a shirt. Although, he was sure she’d find him doing that at some point. He was loud, obnoxious, and drunk Dhaunmyr seemed to want to visit every bar in Waterdeep. With or without an invitation.
He lead onward, after the doors, and pulled his hair back into place as best he could. “You get to see far too many of my imperfections, Kara. We ought to arrange a meeting where I can be... put together. Unless you’re opposed to that, of course. Then I suppose we oughtn’t. And no bars. I’ll be even worse.”
Dhaunmyr walked at a decent pace, but he was by no means rushing. It was a pleasant day, and he was grateful for the light of the sun. It wasn’t fair to keep out of it. Besides, it did wonders for the skin.
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