He was walking west.
He always walked west, using the sun and stars to guide his path. But every wanderer needed rest, and when the Hanged Man's feet brought him to the strange, rundown establishment in the middle of nowhere, he halted at its door. He wasn't sure how he'd come to find this place--the sky told him naught. His tongue was parched, so he pushed open the door and eyed the people inside. There were strange creatures here, though he didn't stare at them longer than a glance. He'd been walking west for a long time.
The Hanged Man was humble in appearance, a man of modest height and strong of build. His form was mostly hidden by a dust-colored mantle draped around his shoulders, its hood casting a shadow upon his face as he strode--nay, limped, for he favored his left leg--across the floor to reach the bar. He wound up sitting down somewhere nearby Zimera. He set down his tower shield, which was wrapped in burlap to hide the crest emblazoned upon it, to give his shoulder a rest, then laid his gloved hands upon the bar.
Waiting for a tavernkeep's attention, the Hanged Man looked over to Zimera. "Do you know where I am, my lady?" He lowered his hood to be polite, allowing her a view of his face, which was somehow simultaneously weathered as well as boyish. A wide, half-healed scar cut down his left cheek just under his sunken green eyes.
He always walked west, using the sun and stars to guide his path. But every wanderer needed rest, and when the Hanged Man's feet brought him to the strange, rundown establishment in the middle of nowhere, he halted at its door. He wasn't sure how he'd come to find this place--the sky told him naught. His tongue was parched, so he pushed open the door and eyed the people inside. There were strange creatures here, though he didn't stare at them longer than a glance. He'd been walking west for a long time.
The Hanged Man was humble in appearance, a man of modest height and strong of build. His form was mostly hidden by a dust-colored mantle draped around his shoulders, its hood casting a shadow upon his face as he strode--nay, limped, for he favored his left leg--across the floor to reach the bar. He wound up sitting down somewhere nearby Zimera. He set down his tower shield, which was wrapped in burlap to hide the crest emblazoned upon it, to give his shoulder a rest, then laid his gloved hands upon the bar.
Waiting for a tavernkeep's attention, the Hanged Man looked over to Zimera. "Do you know where I am, my lady?" He lowered his hood to be polite, allowing her a view of his face, which was somehow simultaneously weathered as well as boyish. A wide, half-healed scar cut down his left cheek just under his sunken green eyes.
He eyed Chimera as she walked in. That one was potentially dangerous. He could see her for what she was, something he did naturally and inherently. He could feel her aura, and knew her for what she was. He kept his power level low, knowing that to release too much power would tip her off as to who he might be. She may not have heard of him by name, but all the demons and angels knew Sauron by trade, and it was quite often that demons would try to prove themselves by taking him on. So far, he had never lost. The stronger ones, like her, usually put up the best fights, and he didn't particularly feel like needing a healer on this day.
He returned his attention to the being before him, tilting his head as he did so. This was no ordinary lion, he could tell before it spoke. It didn't surprise him, however, when it did speak, and he simply smiled courtesously and approached calmly. This creature obviously meant no one harm here. He knelt down, placing the plate of food down on the floor before her.
"I can see that." His voice would seem cold and callous, but his demeanor warm and inviting. It was a strong dichotomy that he exuded, as if the extremes of alignments all dwell within him at once. "You seem to be injured as well. I can heal that for you, if you'd like. Might take me a while to get your form down."
He returned his attention to the being before him, tilting his head as he did so. This was no ordinary lion, he could tell before it spoke. It didn't surprise him, however, when it did speak, and he simply smiled courtesously and approached calmly. This creature obviously meant no one harm here. He knelt down, placing the plate of food down on the floor before her.
"I can see that." His voice would seem cold and callous, but his demeanor warm and inviting. It was a strong dichotomy that he exuded, as if the extremes of alignments all dwell within him at once. "You seem to be injured as well. I can heal that for you, if you'd like. Might take me a while to get your form down."
Zimera was a bit surprised that someone had spoken to her, not many of the taverns occupants strayed from their little groups. She was in mid sip when he spoke to her, causing her to pause and try not to let it go down her chin. Wiping it away, she looked up at him. He looked...Dusty. His eyes were hard to read, she wanted to say that they looked tired, but not. Then seeing that he had pulled back his hood for her to be able to see his face she did the same. The glow of her eyes dimmed as the darkness was pulled away. Zimera's ears could now be seen. She didn't know if her race offended him or not, but it mattered not.
The tavern? How did he end up here if he didn't know the taverns name? Even though the sign outside states it she answered him anyway. Her voice came out softly, "The Mystic Tavern". Curiosity had always been present in her nature and it was none the less present now. She was careful resuming her drink, not that he would surprise her again. Just that she didn't want Her drink to think it would get away with running down her face again.
The tavern? How did he end up here if he didn't know the taverns name? Even though the sign outside states it she answered him anyway. Her voice came out softly, "The Mystic Tavern". Curiosity had always been present in her nature and it was none the less present now. She was careful resuming her drink, not that he would surprise her again. Just that she didn't want Her drink to think it would get away with running down her face again.
At Zimera's surprise, the Hanged Man lowered his head, and a wan little smile curled the right side of his mouth--the scar on his left cheek warped the expression a little on that side. "Apologies, my lady, if I startled you."
Dusty he was indeed, hair ruffled and face smudged with dirt, with shadows under his eyes to hint at long sleepless nights. It was clear he'd been traveling for a while. He noticed her sizing him up and brushed an errant blond lock behind an ear. His hand twitched in the process.
A barkeep came to serve him. "Hippocras, if you've any on the fire."
When Zimera spoke the name of the tavern, the Hanged Man nodded slowly--perhaps he hadn't seen the sign, though it truly was quite conspicuous. It was curious how he might have missed it. She lowered her own hood, and he gazed at her ears, though not for long. "Thank you, my lady. You seem like you know these parts ..." He gestured to Sauron and the lion, his hand spasming again. He grasped it tightly with the other one. "... is that normal?"
The barkeep returned with a steaming goblet that the Hanged Man reached eagerly for. He cupped it so that its warmth radiated into his damaged hands through his gloves.
Dusty he was indeed, hair ruffled and face smudged with dirt, with shadows under his eyes to hint at long sleepless nights. It was clear he'd been traveling for a while. He noticed her sizing him up and brushed an errant blond lock behind an ear. His hand twitched in the process.
A barkeep came to serve him. "Hippocras, if you've any on the fire."
When Zimera spoke the name of the tavern, the Hanged Man nodded slowly--perhaps he hadn't seen the sign, though it truly was quite conspicuous. It was curious how he might have missed it. She lowered her own hood, and he gazed at her ears, though not for long. "Thank you, my lady. You seem like you know these parts ..." He gestured to Sauron and the lion, his hand spasming again. He grasped it tightly with the other one. "... is that normal?"
The barkeep returned with a steaming goblet that the Hanged Man reached eagerly for. He cupped it so that its warmth radiated into his damaged hands through his gloves.
She was a bit irritated that he saw that experession. Zimera was a huntress and she was used to keeping her face unmoving. Being in the tavern must have relaxed her just enough to allow her emotions to be revealed too easily. "The tavern is usually where people relax, I don't usually have people who want to speak to me."She was even suprised how much she had been talking already. She has had a small number of beings who spoke to her, but not for very long. In fact he was the first who been here for more than 3 minutes.
He didn't seem bothered by her ears, but she noticed the slight glance before he looked back at her directly. As far as She could tell he seemed human. The scar on his face gave him an interesting look and that no doubt fed her curiosity more. She had her own, but was hidden behind her left ear.
She looked where he pointed then back at him,"Yes, but there have been a few times where things become more hectic or unatural than this. I think once a Dragon got into some of the rum and burned a few people. The tavern had been burned in several areas, but the place healed itself in about an hour." She looked up at the ceiling and a faint smile crossed her face. "That was 2 on a scale from 1 to 10." As she turned her face back toward him, a silvery white strand of her hair fell in front of her left eye. "It doesn't occur very often." she ran hand through her hair to remove the obstruction.
He didn't seem bothered by her ears, but she noticed the slight glance before he looked back at her directly. As far as She could tell he seemed human. The scar on his face gave him an interesting look and that no doubt fed her curiosity more. She had her own, but was hidden behind her left ear.
She looked where he pointed then back at him,"Yes, but there have been a few times where things become more hectic or unatural than this. I think once a Dragon got into some of the rum and burned a few people. The tavern had been burned in several areas, but the place healed itself in about an hour." She looked up at the ceiling and a faint smile crossed her face. "That was 2 on a scale from 1 to 10." As she turned her face back toward him, a silvery white strand of her hair fell in front of her left eye. "It doesn't occur very often." she ran hand through her hair to remove the obstruction.
((Zimera, thank you for pointing out something I had left out. While it's true that in the past there have been some damages to the building, the power of the tavern repairs itself. Even if completely destroyed, it will be fully rebuilt and restocked within an hour's time, with nothing to indicate previous damage (though destroying the tavern would be a nearly impossible feat). I shall update the original post.))
Chimera didn't notice that Sauron had seen her true form, probably due to the fact that he kept his power at a low level. Otherwise she would definitely have detected it, and done something about it. A lot of demons are ugly in their true form, but she is a fortunate one. She is very beautiful, but also kind of intimidating. She ordered another drink and drank it in one sitting. Being a demon, this was fairly easy. She quite liked this place as it gave her a break from the human realm, and from her thoughts. She didn't value anyone a single look, she just stared into the desk, while tapping it with her fingers. She didn't have many plans. Actually the plan was just to be here for a while and then go back to continue her life between the humans. She did, however, have some questions for a demon she needed to ask. She ran a hand through her fingers. This was so tiring.
The Hanged Man had keen eyes, and saw many things that people might prefer to remain hidden. To those sensitive to such things, he bore a very faint magical aura, and a thin strand of magic trailed behind him. When Zimera told him she was surprised he was speaking with her, he chuckled and looked down into his wine. "Truly? I will give you your space, if th-that is what you prefer." He was surprisingly soft-spoken, with an occasional stutter that wasn't borne out of fear nor nervousness.
The warmth of his wine eased the pain in his hands enough for them to fall still, and he was able to lift the goblet to his lips for a drink. It was cloyingly sweet and thick with spice, and both made him sigh in pleasure. It had been a while since he'd had a proper drink. If he noticed her glancing at his scar, he gave no indication of such. It was an ugly wound, appearing as though it had lingered half-healed for a long time.
"A drunk dragon?" he asked. "Must've b-been a sight to behold." Green eyes roamed around the tavern again. He spotted Chimera sitting a little ways down the bar and watched her for a moment before returning his attention to the elf before him. "You say the tavern healed itself? Curious ... a living building. Can't say I've seen that ever before in my travels."
The warmth of his wine eased the pain in his hands enough for them to fall still, and he was able to lift the goblet to his lips for a drink. It was cloyingly sweet and thick with spice, and both made him sigh in pleasure. It had been a while since he'd had a proper drink. If he noticed her glancing at his scar, he gave no indication of such. It was an ugly wound, appearing as though it had lingered half-healed for a long time.
"A drunk dragon?" he asked. "Must've b-been a sight to behold." Green eyes roamed around the tavern again. He spotted Chimera sitting a little ways down the bar and watched her for a moment before returning his attention to the elf before him. "You say the tavern healed itself? Curious ... a living building. Can't say I've seen that ever before in my travels."
She noted the stutter and smiled. Zi had forgotten that some people have that. So many questions were bubbling up."I don't know if it's the magic or if it is in fact a living thing." she replied in amusement. She never gave it any thought. The tavern seemed to provide what it's occupants want or need in the forms of rest, food, or drink. So many questions and not enough answers. She grimaced at her lack of comunicating skills. It was far more easier to understand animals emotions and thoughts than people.
She actually didn't want him to leave. She had missed talking to another person other than animals. Zi tried thinking of something to say."Pardon my rudeness...your scar?" she bit her lip, an elf, elegant and beautiful. Cunning and free spirited, and that is all she could come up with?! Your scar?! She decided that she needed to start learning how to form these kind of questions instead of always remain quiet.
"Sorry I meant how did you receive it?" she tried once more, seeming to portray a shy and kid like nature instead of her usual quiet and calm composer. She was tired of keeping silent or the adventures outside her forests she never did anymore. But it's so hard for her to understand anyone.
She actually didn't want him to leave. She had missed talking to another person other than animals. Zi tried thinking of something to say."Pardon my rudeness...your scar?" she bit her lip, an elf, elegant and beautiful. Cunning and free spirited, and that is all she could come up with?! Your scar?! She decided that she needed to start learning how to form these kind of questions instead of always remain quiet.
"Sorry I meant how did you receive it?" she tried once more, seeming to portray a shy and kid like nature instead of her usual quiet and calm composer. She was tired of keeping silent or the adventures outside her forests she never did anymore. But it's so hard for her to understand anyone.
The Hanged Man looked down to the counter. With his hands stable enough to hold his goblet single-handed, he reached down and gave the countertop a fond pat. If the place was alive, he wanted to be on good terms with it. He drank again, more deeply this time, draining half the goblet before lowering it.
When Zimera mentioned his scar, he chuckled and dropped his gaze to his reflection in the goblet of wine. The wound danced on the dark surface of the liquid, ugly and raw. "Don't worry," he told the elf. "There's no need to apologize." His green eyes lifted from his drink, though now they seemed to be gazing at a point very far in the distance. "I assume you mean this one?" He touched the wound on his cheek. He had plenty of more, even on the minimal amount of skin he currently showed. "This one came from an assassin. That particular guild uses poisons to prevent the healing of inflicted injuries." He paused. "Used," he corrected himself. "I ... don't know if they exist anymore."
When Zimera mentioned his scar, he chuckled and dropped his gaze to his reflection in the goblet of wine. The wound danced on the dark surface of the liquid, ugly and raw. "Don't worry," he told the elf. "There's no need to apologize." His green eyes lifted from his drink, though now they seemed to be gazing at a point very far in the distance. "I assume you mean this one?" He touched the wound on his cheek. He had plenty of more, even on the minimal amount of skin he currently showed. "This one came from an assassin. That particular guild uses poisons to prevent the healing of inflicted injuries." He paused. "Used," he corrected himself. "I ... don't know if they exist anymore."
She hung on every word. Scars weren't ugly to her. They where like words on a page, telling others of the stories and life of that person. "Assassins?" that must mean like the elf rangers back in Elrim. They didn't use poison, she should know. That was how she got her scar behind her left ear. The only reason she was still alive was because of a tree.
Zi could see him zone out. Was he reliving it? She almost wanted to touch him if it meant he would come back to the present. Her grip tightened on the glass. Reminding her to drink it. "Can I have another please." her voice came out soft, not much for a call out, but they always heard her. They took her cup away to refill it. She looked him over once more and noticed more of him then her first glance earlier. He had a large wrapped shield and in his hunched bulkiness she could see that his eyes weren't the only thing portraying how tired he was.
The waitress brought back her drink. She felt the need to inform him of the rooms. "If you need rest, the tavern will accommodate you. You can clean up and maybe get a nice bad to cozy up in." she smiled faintly. Even though he seemed still locked in the past.
Zi could see him zone out. Was he reliving it? She almost wanted to touch him if it meant he would come back to the present. Her grip tightened on the glass. Reminding her to drink it. "Can I have another please." her voice came out soft, not much for a call out, but they always heard her. They took her cup away to refill it. She looked him over once more and noticed more of him then her first glance earlier. He had a large wrapped shield and in his hunched bulkiness she could see that his eyes weren't the only thing portraying how tired he was.
The waitress brought back her drink. She felt the need to inform him of the rooms. "If you need rest, the tavern will accommodate you. You can clean up and maybe get a nice bad to cozy up in." she smiled faintly. Even though he seemed still locked in the past.
If Zimera thought that scars told a story, then the Hanged Man was a veritable novel. Besides the one on his cheek, most of the scars on his face were faded. His right eyebrow had been gashed open before, leaving a small bare patch. Everywhere the elf looked she would find more of them to look at.
"Assassins, aye. Not after me, not in particular--I was just in their way. They had a job to do, and the Lord of the Lances ... he didn't want them to ..." He trailed off into silence.
Commander, Ayma said.
"Not now," the Hanged Man muttered. Zimera might hear his whisper, though not the other voice.
You're tired. You might want to pay attention.
His green eyes fluttered as his mind returned to the present. She was talking about lodging--he nodded along with her words. "Aye--aye, thank you. Later, surely. Need to drink. Can't s-sleep well without it." The grizzled swordsman wagged his goblet to punctuate his words. He finished off the drink and called for a refill.
"I've been terribly rude, my lady ... I haven't even asked your name."
"Assassins, aye. Not after me, not in particular--I was just in their way. They had a job to do, and the Lord of the Lances ... he didn't want them to ..." He trailed off into silence.
Commander, Ayma said.
"Not now," the Hanged Man muttered. Zimera might hear his whisper, though not the other voice.
You're tired. You might want to pay attention.
His green eyes fluttered as his mind returned to the present. She was talking about lodging--he nodded along with her words. "Aye--aye, thank you. Later, surely. Need to drink. Can't s-sleep well without it." The grizzled swordsman wagged his goblet to punctuate his words. He finished off the drink and called for a refill.
"I've been terribly rude, my lady ... I haven't even asked your name."
She hadn't asked him his either. So she also was to blame. "Zimera or Zi which ever sticks." this place was always finding those who needed it. This man needed some rest bad. Zi may not have had it as bad as he, but she did miss Elrim and the elves she grew up with. Banishment was the only option. she sipped at her drink and looked down at the table. He defiantly needed that drink."May I ask yours as well?" her red eyes looked back up to him. She could hear his mumbles and ran her fingers through her hair.
She wonder how long she had been here already. Maybe Zi would decide to sleep here for once instead of camping. With that she ordered food for two. Hopefully he wouldn't mind it. She wasn't sure what ate or if he did at all. Food was always good to eat when you've been wondering so long.
She wonder how long she had been here already. Maybe Zi would decide to sleep here for once instead of camping. With that she ordered food for two. Hopefully he wouldn't mind it. She wasn't sure what ate or if he did at all. Food was always good to eat when you've been wondering so long.
The lion turned back onto it's stomach before getting up on it's paws. It looked up at Sauron then down at the plate again before sniffing it and then licking it a little with it's large tongue. After a moment, it took the entirety of the steak into it's mouth and left the rest undisturbed. After a moment, the large prowl cat began to glow with a white light. "Stand back, please.", the beast said to Sauron in a voice that seemed to reverberate off of itself in the beasts own throat.
"Zimera," the Hanged Man repeated, committing the name to memory. "Well, I thank you for your company."
When she asked him about his own name, he fell silent for a few long moments, his gaze turning hazy and distant again. Only when the barkeep returned with his hippocras did he come around again. "I'm the Man Thrice-Hanged," he mused, slowly rotating the goblet to swirl the wine-dark drink. "War-clad, the pale crow, the man with the scars ..." His eyes returned to her face, a thin smile present upon his lips. "You're welcome to call me whatever you wish. I've had some ugly nicknames in the past--dog, sword-swallower ..." This made him chuckle softly. "Whatever you come up with surely won't be as bad."
A pale glow caught the Hanged Man's attention, and he rotated in his chair to look back at the lion and Sauron. The cat itself was radiating white light. His fingers flexed within his gloves and he loosened his falchion in its scabbard, though didn't draw even an inch of it. Long years of travel had mostly eased his paranoia, but there was a part of him that could never release it.
When she asked him about his own name, he fell silent for a few long moments, his gaze turning hazy and distant again. Only when the barkeep returned with his hippocras did he come around again. "I'm the Man Thrice-Hanged," he mused, slowly rotating the goblet to swirl the wine-dark drink. "War-clad, the pale crow, the man with the scars ..." His eyes returned to her face, a thin smile present upon his lips. "You're welcome to call me whatever you wish. I've had some ugly nicknames in the past--dog, sword-swallower ..." This made him chuckle softly. "Whatever you come up with surely won't be as bad."
A pale glow caught the Hanged Man's attention, and he rotated in his chair to look back at the lion and Sauron. The cat itself was radiating white light. His fingers flexed within his gloves and he loosened his falchion in its scabbard, though didn't draw even an inch of it. Long years of travel had mostly eased his paranoia, but there was a part of him that could never release it.
Within moments, the cat turned into a woman of otherwordly beauty. Her hair was as white as the lions mane and her eyes were just as blind. She stood where the lion had once stood, her golden hair ornaments shimmering with the light from the fire. "Ah, much better.", she said in a voice that seemed to echo softly. "I don't think I would have been able to turn back if I didn't get anything to eat. Save for resting. And I don't think you would like to clean up shedding hair from a bed here.", Arcaenia joked. She had been sensing the man staring at her. Without turning away from brushing her dress off, she addressed him. "If you would like to, you can paint a picture of me. It will last you your lifetime, dear.", she said to him before looking at him with a warm smile, her white eyes scanning him. The tattoo on her face suddenly appeared, slightly red in hue. It was in great contrast with her snow like skin. Her voice was warm and soothing as she spoke. "Thank you greatly, Sauron. If there is any way I can repay you, let me know."
Chimera couldn't help but notice the lion and it's sudden transformation. She shifted slightly in her chair and looked at the woman, who suddenly stood there in the middle of the tavern. She highly doubted that she came from this world as her appearance stood out too much. She couldn't have been from this world, but then again, neither was Chimera, so what did it matter? She turned around again and placed the money on the desk. She sighed. She hadn't seen her brothers for a while. She couldn't help but wonder what they were doing. She thought about it for a second. Should she stick around a bit longer? Why not? She wasn't in a hurry. As she thought about it, she let her fingers slide around the edges of the glass, so it made that sound. She listened to it while staring at the bottom.
Sauron did as he was bid, standing back as requested. He had seen her true form, and recognized her new form vaguely through rough description. Those descriptions did not do justice to what he saw. Her physical beauty was truly breathtaking, but it was her inner beauty that caught his attention. As she finished her transformation, and once again addressed him, he bowed deeply, with the regal manner of a King to another respected King, and all traces of the evil mannerism's in him disappeared instantly.
"I shall remember your kind and generous offer, and shall not take it lightly. It was a great pleasure to be of assistance." His voice held nothing of the evil or malicious sounds that it had previously, replaced instead with all the respect that one could attain. As he stood, he looked at himself, shaking his head. "Had I realized that someone of your status would be here, I would have been dressed more appropriately."
With that, he snapped a finger, and his entire outfit changed dramatically. The black chestplate, pants, and shirt were instead replaced with white robes, with silver embroidered in elaborate but simple patterns. If one were to pay closer attention, the sleeves were embroidered in the same fashion as the sheath to the ivory handled sword with the emerald pommel, with the exception of the emeralds being placed between the criss-crosses. His boots were replaced with white boots, as well, in the same fashion as his previous brown boots, though instead of gold it too was embroidered with silver dragons, though it was all covered by the length of his robes. His hair was a stark contrast against the white he now wore, the black and gold giving a sharp definition to his features even more so now. His crimson eyes still had their piercing gaze, though his lips were now no longer holding the evil grin he had thus far, instead now he was smiling kindly and warmly.
He knew that this display would cause the demon, Chimera, to have a much better idea of who he was. She may not know him by name, but she would likely recognize his power level from the brief use to change into these highly magical clothing. He smiled warmly at Arcaenia, nodding his approval of his new wardrobe. "There. That is much more appropriate."
"I shall remember your kind and generous offer, and shall not take it lightly. It was a great pleasure to be of assistance." His voice held nothing of the evil or malicious sounds that it had previously, replaced instead with all the respect that one could attain. As he stood, he looked at himself, shaking his head. "Had I realized that someone of your status would be here, I would have been dressed more appropriately."
With that, he snapped a finger, and his entire outfit changed dramatically. The black chestplate, pants, and shirt were instead replaced with white robes, with silver embroidered in elaborate but simple patterns. If one were to pay closer attention, the sleeves were embroidered in the same fashion as the sheath to the ivory handled sword with the emerald pommel, with the exception of the emeralds being placed between the criss-crosses. His boots were replaced with white boots, as well, in the same fashion as his previous brown boots, though instead of gold it too was embroidered with silver dragons, though it was all covered by the length of his robes. His hair was a stark contrast against the white he now wore, the black and gold giving a sharp definition to his features even more so now. His crimson eyes still had their piercing gaze, though his lips were now no longer holding the evil grin he had thus far, instead now he was smiling kindly and warmly.
He knew that this display would cause the demon, Chimera, to have a much better idea of who he was. She may not know him by name, but she would likely recognize his power level from the brief use to change into these highly magical clothing. He smiled warmly at Arcaenia, nodding his approval of his new wardrobe. "There. That is much more appropriate."
Chimera was sitting in her own thoughts, when she suddenly felt something, that made her stop what she was doing and sit up straight. It interrupted her chain of thoughts, and she looked over to see where it was coming from, and saw Sauron, who was now dressed differently. Her mouth was slightly open and she looked curious. She had a pretty good idea of who it was, but what a coincidence. She didn't say anything at first, but just watched him silently with her glowing golden eyes. "Hmm..." She scratched her cheek. He was incredibly strong, she knew that. Most demons would probably take him on, but she didn't feel like fighting. There was a reason she left the demon realm. She considered them to be traitors, as they executed her family. She got up and stretched her back and arms, and sighed. She then decided to walk over anyways. Knowing who he was and having felt his power level for a moment, she knew he was strong and there was a chance he might be able to see her true form. That didn't scare her though. She strode over and stopped right in front of them. She raised her arm and waved. "Hi," she said. Her voice was softer and kinder than most demons. It was like that of an angel, which was maybe a bit weird. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," she added and looked at both of them.
Sauron regarded the Chimera with warmth and sincerity, his voice neither waivering nor faltering. He smiled, giving a gracious, though somewhat less kingly of a bow, continuing to smile as he stood and spoke with a warm and soothing voice.
"Not at all. And greetings to you as well."
Arcaneia would be able to see that, though his complexion, features, and everything physical about him may seem to be that of a High Elf, that was not his original form. She can see that he was once a Drow, a dark elf from the depths of the Underdark, and was permenantly changed into the form that now stands before them. Others in the room would not see this, however, and might be confused as he crossed his arms as he regarded the demon before him, the closest thing to a sign of peace by his people.
"Not at all. And greetings to you as well."
Arcaneia would be able to see that, though his complexion, features, and everything physical about him may seem to be that of a High Elf, that was not his original form. She can see that he was once a Drow, a dark elf from the depths of the Underdark, and was permenantly changed into the form that now stands before them. Others in the room would not see this, however, and might be confused as he crossed his arms as he regarded the demon before him, the closest thing to a sign of peace by his people.
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