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Post by enchilada on Feb 8, 2019 22:04:58 GMT
He strode into the city with one thumb in his pocket, carefully painted, heavily jewelled fingers resting on his thigh. The smile plastered on his face could be seen as something one would want to wipe off, cocky and large, but you couldn’t knock him for his confidence. He carried only a small pack, and a coin purse. He’d buy bigger wares within these walls to sell, for now he kept his tiny fortune in a mixture of merchandise and coin. Merchandise he intended to sell.
But first came his image, because after all, no merchant worth his salt would expect to sell without reviews, or without models. Business came by word of mouth, pretty soon he was sure he’d be sitting in a tavern and customers would seek him out, no calling out that he had beautiful jewellery to passers by, and hopefully no bartering. He hated cutting the price low. He was, after all, a businessman, and businesses, no matter the size, had to make money. Secretly, he’d just been breaking even recently, and that worried him. Selling was all he knew.
Other than beauty! Of course he was handsome, he felt that might be why he sold so much, but also why he got shouted down over prices by the customers. Beauty and brain don’t come together, they believe, ah but they are wrong. No way was Dhaunmyr the cleverest man in this city, but truly he believed himself the most attractive, and he’d barely seen more than twenty people, and he certainly wasn’t dumb.
Speaking of the locals, Dhaunmyr had spotted his first potential customer, or partner, or perhaps she’d be interested in some drinks. His image, of course, was that he was never without the presence of at least one beautiful creature, and it wasn’t too hard to get them to come with, usually. It was all down to being friends, rather than being some form of disastrous male bird, fluffing up the feathers. He had seen it before in the villages, and of course, he was never raised that way. Courting a woman was a death sentence, an insult, and even if it wasn’t... Dhaun liked to be pampered. He enjoyed being sought after, and he enjoyed never lifting a finger. So obviously, this would come across as completely normal to this woman when he lunged forwards into an almost too-low bow, after approaching her at some speed.
As he looked up to the human, he smiled in a manner one could describe as widely, then stood up straight. “Greetings, ma’am. I am Vivacity- Dhaunmyr Vivacity. I couldn’t help but notice your striking eyes from all the way over there and I simply could not walk past without as much as a goodday, and as such, I do wish you one! If I may be so bold, might I ask your activities this day?”
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Post by Ronna on Feb 9, 2019 7:42:56 GMT
Ronna would never have considered herself a beautiful woman. She’d spent too much of her life being gawped at to feel like anyone could ever really consider her attractive. Besides, she’d rarely managed to have even a polite conversation with a man before – she’d never laid even the barest foundations of a relationship. Imagine her surprise, then, when not only was she approached and offered a compliment, brazenly and boldly, but she was approached by a drow.
She’d heard tell of drow, of course. Everyone had. Terrifying, evil slavers who would steal up out of the ground to murder you in your bed – and that was if you were one of the lucky ones! The ones they spirited back to their underground lairs were in for lives of miserable, brutal slavery. This simply was not a situation she was equipped to handle.
In her functional, simple studded leather, with her pot-lid shield and the bright blue tattoo which etched itself over her face, she hardly expected that it would be her eyes which caught any attention – least of all from one of the drow. Those slate-grey orbs of hers widened in surprise, and for a moment she was rendered truly speechless by Dhaunmyr’s mere presence.
To her credit, though, she rallied quite quickly.
This guy didn’t look like the kind of monster she’d imagined in those horrible stories. He didn’t seem to have a bag full of stolen babies on his person. And this is Waterdeep. This is where people came when they wanted to start over and afresh, leave their lives behind. Maybe he was on a quest to redeem himself, like that other famous drow she’d heard tell of?
He didn’t seem to have any scimitars, though.
“Uhm. Are you talking to me?” She asked, smiling uncertainly and looking around, as though he could be talking to someone behind her and she was just in the way. It didn’t look like that, though. No. He really wanted to know what she was doing with her day.
“Tell the truth, I’m trying to figure the lay of the land. I just got here, and Waterdeep has waaaay more twists and turns than Wellholm. I gotta learn my way around, y’know?”
(Wordcount: 371)
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Post by enchilada on Feb 9, 2019 15:01:56 GMT
Dhaunmyr gasped in surprise. Such a well rounded looking woman, surely she’d already found the grooves and the general layout of the city, she seemed comfortable. Dhaunmyr was not comfortable. The place swamped him, and he hadn’t even looked around yet. Every wall felt ten times as tall, it was a little claustrophobic, which was ironic given he’d spent the last fifty years underground. For all he knew, he could still fall up into the sky, no ceiling to stop that, but it was a silly idea and quickly dismissed. There wasn’t any rain or snow down there, though, that was probably the worst change. Along with the blistering sun, even in the cold.
“Oh! I myself am brand new to this place. Perhaps we can figure out the layout together?” He was hopeful, but not too hopeful. He’d recieved a few comments that were frankly upsetting, and a few warnings from those who were more tactful. Drow may not be speared by the guards upon entry, but it didn’t stop hatred and mistrust from boiling the blood of the citizens. It may have been a frightening thought, but it wasn’t necessarily unfounded. He’d seen for himself the slaves stolen from the surface, and he knew too well their fate as sacrifices to the horrid demon queen. He didn’t think her name, or her face. Her deeds were enough.
He supposed it was nice to have a bogeyman to blame happenings on, if your child is a horrid, naughty little thing, then she must be a changeling, but if someone vanished, they must have been abducted by drow. It was funny, drow didn’t need to make up stories. If someone went missing, they were dead, simple as that. Perhaps your son angered a lady passing by, or, most likely, just about anyone could inconvenience a priestess and end up as a nice tasty sacrifice shortly after. Ah, the luxuries of the other cultures were so small, but so appreciated, like not dying.
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Post by Ronna on Feb 13, 2019 20:41:24 GMT
There is definitely hesitation in Ronna. It is difficult to tally the man she’s talking to with the stories she’s heard ever since she was a child. That was part of what made drow frightening though, right? They weren’t just mindless thugs. Orcs were easy to understand; terrible brutes who came to the village and demanded food and money or just burned everything down and made off with the people they didn’t kill. Drow were more subtle. They were liars, thieves, manipulators – cruel and callous and utterly without remorse. How could she know whether the person she was talking to was genuine? She’d never been a very good judge of character, and though he seemed harmless, it could all be a façade so that she’d lower her guard and he could stick the knife in.
Ultimately, though, she didn’t want to be one of the people who thought like that. Waterdeep was a cold and hard place, she’d learned that already, and if he wanted to stick a blade in her? He’d find it a lot more challenging than it looked. She wasn’t going to lower her guard completely, but she wasn’t going to spurn a friendly offer just because the person making it looked suspicious.
“Sure.” She said, at last, seeming to reach the decision after a little internal debate, “I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a look around together. What’s your priority? Are you looking for work, a bed, somewhere to eat? I’m guessing you’ve come quite some way.”
That was a very tactful way of saying ‘you aren’t from around here’. Whilst Ronna wasn’t either, she was certainly closer than this man had been when he started his journey. For her, Waterdeep had only seemed like it was a whole world away; if half the rumours she knew about the underdark were true, it was almost literally the case for him!
(Wordcount: 686)
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Post by enchilada on Feb 13, 2019 22:44:21 GMT
Dhaunmyr chuckled, a warm noise. His nose crunched up and he gently hid the smile with his hand, lazily bent at the wrist. He was just a picture of genuine happiness. “Oh, my dear.” He pushed back his hair, and let it fall properly into place again as his arm went down with it. He tucked his hand into his coat pocket. “I’ve come up from a town down the road. My friends will join me soon.” He kept the smile, asymmetric and half hidden, and looked rather fondly at his seemingly unnamed friend.
“But, if you meant it truly, I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps I ought to see about a spot in a market somewhere, I am, of course, a salesman of fine wares.”
She was just a smidge taller than he, so he didn’t feel like an idiot standing on his tippy toes to try and get a better view of the place around him. Dhaunmyr... had not come from the town down the road truthfully, and she probably knew that, but in a sense, he had been there for a while before deciding to climb the daunting mountain ahead of him that was making a decent amount of coin in an engulfing city like Waterdeep. If nothing else, he’d have tried.
“I suppose that the blind leading the blind will leave us with some fun stories at least.” Dhaunmyr shrugged, and slowly began to set off. He had dropped back down to his heels with a lovely little click before he spoke again. He refrained from taking her hand to kiss, she probably would appreciate it more if he didn’t touch her. Not only was he a stranger, he hailed from that hell known as the underdark. Fair play.
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Post by Ronna on Feb 18, 2019 13:26:35 GMT
Ronna was still deeply unnerved. She’d never even seen a drow before, let along spoken with one, and this wasn’t at all the kind of experience she’d expected. Waterdeep as a whole was turning out to be markedly different from the picture she’d painted in her head. The people were rough, and coarse, and just didn’t care about anyone else by and large. That was freeing in many ways, for a woman who had spent her whole life being judged and stared at by her fellows. But in so many other ways, it made the whole city feel very… lonely. She’d never have believed it was possible to feel lonely around so many other people, but there it was.
She pursed her lips as she looked at the man, wondering vaguely if he was making fun of her or trying to take advantage of her somehow. She couldn’t see how that was possible, though. Her brow furrowed just a little bit, and she nodded her head slowly.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got friends on the way.” She said, “That seems like it’ll make things easier for you. Trying to figure this place out on your own is hard.”
She gave a shrug of her shoulders, apparently not aware – or just not thinking about – the fact that she hasn’t introduced herself.
“There’s a market not too far from here, though. I bought a pastry from it this morning. What do you sell?”
And with that, she was off, leading the way, as though she was in any even vague way qualified to help show anyone else around this place. She was pretty sure she remembered the route she’d taken though. She’d been wandering around the area basically since dawn, it wouldn’t be that hard to retrace her steps.
(Wordcount: 983)
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Post by enchilada on Feb 18, 2019 23:12:51 GMT
“Oh! I sell many fine wares, currently I only have my lightest on me. I sold all my objet de arts well back before I set off. That’s what my friends are doing- selling the big or fragile things. I think Fae might be uh- right now I have only my lightest, necklaces. I don’t think I have a single one to suit you, however. You are perhaps your own jewel?”
Dhaunmyr was just being polite, but in the back of his mind he was thinking a pale gold or even silver might sit and look less gaudy on her chest, and he was also taken aback by her facial structure. Drow women, and therefore most elven women, although well bred and stereotypically beautiful, were stained with violence and fear for Dhaunmyr. He just couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the beauty in that way. Drow men, however... he certainly enjoyed his youth acting practically as a slave for that priestess - the other boy there had very nice... ears. He shook his head, and cleared the thought.
As he looked around, Dhaunmyr had to squint, or cover his eyes to shadow them. He wasn’t sure how to cope with this yet. There were some drow who sent him in the direction of a friendly town, and they seemed used to the sun. He supposed he would just have to become that - used to it. It was such a small price for freedoms, good wine and no commitments. Maybe he should get just one commitment- just something to keep him grounded. What he’d commit to was beyond him. As far as he knew, people up here had practically no rules, no social form, no respect. It was delightful.
“What brings you to Waterdeep, then?”
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Post by Ronna on Feb 21, 2019 10:11:12 GMT
Ronna laughed lightly at the idea that she was her own jewel. In all her life, she’d never been accused of being anything like that – the facial tattoo had been enough to put off all but the most determinedly interested suitors, and those couldn’t go more than ten minutes at a time without blurting out some awkward question about her heritage or the rumours which floated around about her. She shook her head slowly; this man was definitely a talented salesman, even if he had, by his own admission, nothing that he actually wanted to sell her right now.
“I don’t know about that.” She said, “I was a smith, in Wellholm. Jewels are a bit…” She wiggled her hand to indicate how little she thought of it. Well. With her pot lid shield and rather rough and ready leathers, looks clearly were not foremost in her mind at the best of times.
“Waterdeep is a big place.” She said, in response to the other question. “There’s a lot of people here looking for folks that can help them out. This is where adventures start, and I guess that’s what I’m looking for. Adventure.”
It was weird to say it out loud, but it was true. She’d come to Waterdeep seeking those who needed her help and leads as to where to put her talents to use. Wellholm was safe after her intervention, and she couldn’t stay there any more; now that she knew she had this power, she had a duty to put it to use, didn’t she?
(Wordcount: 1242)
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Post by enchilada on Feb 21, 2019 15:52:55 GMT
The tattoo honestly didn’t make an impression on Dhaunmyr, he’d seen probably about a hundred people in detail on the surface, generously, so he assumed it was just another feature. As far as he was concerned, Faerveren had enough friends with tattoos. She didn’t have any he’d seen, but if she wanted one, well, freedom is bliss. Dhaunmyr actually was thinking about one in particular, but even though he’d thoroughly pierced his face, he was worried about the impression that women- drow women- might get, after all, if he was a consort then he lost that choice and agency, so was he saying that he wasn’t available? If he got dragged back under, that rose bunch around his arm could be a death sentence. If getting this distracted wasn’t one already. And denouncing his family name. And leaving that bi- maybe it didn’t matter.
“Of course, you’re right. Some of your charm perhaps comes from practicality. Well, if I find something both beautiful and practical I shall bring it to you first. You certainly deserve to own such an item, as you are one yourself.” Perhaps a nice sword, or some kind of tinderbox, just something delightful to look at with use, although Dhaunmyr would say that beauty is in fact a use.
“Well. I came here for better wine.” He laughed, into his palm of course. “And to broaden my horizons just a tad.”
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