Tehr’ Zheli, Master of Blades, tutor and bodyguard to the nobility of his house, left the large tent of his master and his pupil. The Heir Apparent of the seat of House Rielhzar. Purple light playing of pale purple skin, matted brown dreadlocks to his shoulders swaying with the arrogant, swaggering step of one who has risen high above his birthplace on the poverty line, to become the most trusted outsider to the family, a valued asset and trainer of their military force.

Tightly fitted chainmail, handcrafted by a deep-dwarf runesmith and enchanted with their peculiar runics, to protect against the one weakness of any warrior – magic -. Two wickedly curved, serated swords decorating his shoulders which they were strapped to, straps running across his chest, each holding four small throwing knives, a pair of long thin daggers sitting on his chain and leather clad thighs.

His long fingers twisting a pair of small gems, his personal insignia –two blades, curved and seratted, crossed- stamped magically onto them. His gift for another century of service to his house, a bonus for a well executed raid that had failed in its ending due only to the militant ignorance of the mages.

Yellow eyes looked the slaves over as he approached, bored with them all. He had several now, always choosing slaves that could work his personal smithy, or serve as good workers. His eye was caught by one of the mages leaving with three pretty humans, one of which looked already badly beaten. His brow furrowed, he did not approve of unnecessary torture, it was a waste of good workers and made the entire act far more common, and therefore far less terrifying and less useful to his house.

But what caused his fluid swagger to change and carry him to the corner was not pity for their plight, nor attraction to them, nor in fact anything much to do with them at all. He had decided, his status in the Drow world was increasing, it was a way that the respected wasted good money on trophies for slaves, and he had decided it was about time he picked up a couple of trophies to show his improved station in life, two such pretty girls (for humans he felt they were) and wizards on top of that, the extravagance of them as tropies would boost his kudos greatly. And besides, that wizard was one of his most hated rivals, this lose of two playthings would annoy him greatly.

He spun the gems in his fingers as he slid unheard next to the mage and spoke softly, with obvious glee in his pointed ear.
“You certainly do have fine tastes wizard, thankyou for picking them out for me.” The gems he presented to the mage he outranked silencing him as he head turned sharply. A cold sneer of triumph grew on Tehr’ s face, exposing sharpened yellow teeth.

Common sense and his loyalty to the house told him to take the girl who did not have her wand in view, which meant she could not have one, her use as a worker was curtailed, she would make a fine first choice.
“The raven hair and” he paused, noting how the wizards eyes rested with cruel hunger on one other he laughed inside
“that one there.” He pointed her out and switched to his broken English
“You two, come with me.” His yellow eyes alight with the move he had just pulled, as he walked away from the fuming torturer, his new slaves in tow, he would have something pulled against him sometime, but for now this had been a good day, and is was not likely to end anytime soon with 300 of his hand picked and trained warriors, all loyal to the militant leaders of the house, all loyal to him.

((Celest and Ryliegh, to the sorting table post))

Edited by: Dark Creatures at: 11/11/01 10:51:26 pm