Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Hunted (1x1 with Mordeth)

She watched him once they were in the room with curiosity as he performed a spell, eyes narrowing slightly. At his instruction to take the bed, she hesitated for a moment before sitting on the edge. "Thank you." Was all she said, very quietly. She rested her elbows on her knees, and her face against her palms for a brief moment before sitting up straight again. "I will be leaving early, I will try not to wake you when I do. You've been very kind."

He shrugged casually. While he was not normally the sort to go out of his way to help someone, their paths had crossed entirely by accident, and they had both been looking to get away from the rioting. Therefore it had been mutually beneficial and no skin off of his nose metaphorically speaking that they find relative shelter together.

He caught the gesture then, before he leant calmly against the dresser.
"So what were you running from, or who, rather? Your attire is clearly foreign, and there is not a port within many leagues of here."

Silent for several minutes, she finally replied. "That man that started coming up the alley.." She hesitated once again. " He.. had held me captive, in a manner of speaking, and I escaped today." She glanced up at the ceiling, to the wall.. pretty much anywhere but him. "Obviously, I am foreign.. I come from the deserts."

He listened intently, eyes narrowed slightly; the hawkish expression was one of focus and concentration, as his mind swiftly sought to process the information she was readily processing. "So you are an escaped slave?" That was how she had described it at any rate. He briefly scrutinized her from where he stood. "At least you have no signs of more distinct ownership on you." Such would have made finding her way a little more difficult.

She scowled, eyes narrowing. "I am not a slave. " The golden hue of her eyes was briefly tainted with crimson, but it quickly faded as she took a slow breath. She finally spoke again. "He wanted me for..other reasons. I have certain abilities that he deemed quite valuable." She hesitated once more. "He was never able to put a mark on me, thankfully. " She watched him carefully. She wasn't sure if she should continue.

His lips curled up for a moment at that scowled response. "Did you not first tell me that he made you captive?" Certainly that denoted her as a prisoner at the very least by definition, and a slave if close to that. He looked mildly more curious than condescending then, certainly at the mention of abilities. "What abilities might they be?" The fact that he had done something with the door that was visible, that had not been there before, was perhaps suggestion enough that he had hidden abilities of his own.

Her eyes flashed crimson again, and this time, in lingered. "I am not a slave. He kept me in a jar for a year. I did nothing but sit and wait. I was a prisoner, not his slave." She calmed herself for several minutes before speaking. "I am not.. human." She lifted a hand, hesitating again before her hand burst into flames. Slowly, the flames crept up her arm, until her form was entirely engulfed in the fire. Soon, it seemed she had burned down to a single ball of fire, on the edge of the bed. After several more minutes, it began to take the shape of a woman again, and eventually, Arendreila was back, sitting on the edge of the bed, with a fistful of fire, which quickly extinguished itself.

He smirked faintly in amusement at the crimson flash. Easily riled, even if it was in a way quite understandable. Then the fire came, moments after the claim had left her lips. His expression was intrigued to say the least, certainly when the figure before him suddenly became a hovering, small ball of fire that had soon once again taken up the shape of the female he found himself travelling with.

"I see... an elemental of some sort?" While a magus could just as easily replicate the fire engulfing them with not all too much effort depending on how experienced they were, few transformations of such a degree from figure to ball were ever so fluid.

She nodded at him. "Indeed. I was formed in the heart of the desert. As I grew older, I gained the ability to take a form of my choosing, just one." She gestured to her form. "That man, he caught me when I was fleeing a sandstorm.. He had seen me as I changed, and scooped me up in a jar.. The winds were too fierce, and I could not get away." She scowled at the memory. "I could not take this form in such a small space, so I was forced to remain as you just saw, until the jar he contained me in broke in the fight."

He listened intently before, unbidden, a quiet growl sounded from his stomach. He ignored it, for now. Ordering up was always a possibility. "So now you seek to run?" Some, not all, of the dry tone had gone from his voice. Likely weariness was playing a part in dimming some of his natural bite and sarcasm. "Where to, exactly? You are many months away from the desert after all, and I doubt he left you coinage or a map." Notice the 'you'; for now, he was unwilling to even offer the remote possibility of going with her.

Her own tone remained quite sharp. "Anywhere but here. I plan on finding out exactly where I am tomorrow, and figure out something then." She was equally unwilling to allow him to go with her; as grateful as she was to him for letting her stay here, they would obviously not be good travel companions, and when morning came, she fully intended to go in the opposite direction, as long as that was the way back home.