Now that's hard to believe. I can't even conjure a picture in my mind of you without it. Well, whatever Tara tells you, I think it makes you look handsome.
( There is, perhaps, a small flustered moment where he almost drops his quill. Recovering and bullrushing onward: )
Thank you, now please, if you could just tell my tressym that, she doesn’t listen to anything I have to say —
I think I will keep it, if you think it suits. It marks quite the effective delineation between the old me and the present me, too. Have you ever done something like that? Chopped off all your hair in a fit of pique and wanting to turn a new leaf and reinvent yourself. Dyed it purple, perhaps, or gotten an ill-advised tattoo.
If I ever have the pleasure of meeting her, I'll be sure to tell her. Though I don't know how effective that will be if you can't convince her.
[There was a small sigh of relief from the drow. Seems like her slip of the pen went unnoticed.]
Me? Actually... I do. The tattoo on my face I got shortly after I fled the Underdark. Its to honor my goddess, Eilistraee, so when others look upon me they will know where my allegiance lay. My final act of rebellion against Lolth, I guess. And... I used to hate my eyes. They were a source of shame not being red like my other Sisters. But now I'm proud not to have the Spider Queen's favor.
It was but at the time, that thought didn't occur to me. I was branded as a traitor by my House the moment I fled with or with out this tattoo. Rather I prefer to see it as a beacon of hope. So many of my Brothers and Sisters are lost in the dark. I want to serve as their light to guide them out like Eilistraee did for me.
It’s an admirable, astonishing thing you’ve done; I can’t even imagine the amount of willpower and devotion it must have taken to turn away like that, and to lose your whole House in the process.
It wasn't an easy decision. I never told you this but... I'm a twin. I have a younger brother, Rhyle. He was my everything. No matter what they did to us, we had eachother. My Matron didn't like that. Saw my compassion as weakness and sought to snuff it out. So in secret she sold my brother to another Matron somewhere far from my reach. She did succeed in gutting me but failed to break me. Unfortunately, I would be years until I had a chance to escape. I still remember the guilt that weighted in my heart knowing he was still out there but I knew I had to. I was no good to him dead.
That's why I fled. I did it for him, for us. He's the only family I have. After all this is over, I plan on picking back up my search for him.
( He sits with that for a little while, processing it. Usually it’s the rest of their party peeling back the layers of their contentious history and laying their personal troubles at Koh’s feet, but this time… )
I’m so sorry, Koh. Kolnatha. You did the right thing: the right and just and honourable and compassionate thing. I don’t mean to impugn your culture, of course, I’m certain there’s much else to appreciate in the Underdark, but the lack of compassion in Menzoberranzan is— well. That’s terrible. Compassion isn’t a weakness; sometimes it’s the bravest course of action.
[Seeing her full name felt strange. She was so used to her companions calling her by her nickname that it felt foreign. Still, it did bring a small smile to her face.]
Thank you, Gale. I'm glad to hear you think so. And don't worry, I take no offense. I know first hand how brutal drow culture can be and I agree with you. The fear, the mistrust, the constant looking over your shoulder... Lolth thrives on pitting her people against eachother. Reveals in the chaos. Things like compassion or even love for that matter simply doesn't exist. Feelings like those can get you killed. Nearly killed me. But that's a story for a different time.
However, there is one thing I do miss... despite its dangers the Underdark has its own beauty. Even in the darkest of places, light can be found. Usually luring you to your death, but beautiful all the same. Of course it doesn't compare to a canopy of glittering stars, mind you.
I was chasing down a lead before I was kidnapped by the nautiloid. Might be another dead end like all the others I've followed. My Matron did a good job covering her tracks about the deal so I don't have much to go on other than hunting down any mention of a male drow sighting. I never brought this up before since it would have taken us away from our current path. In the order of priority of all the other problems we're facing, finding a missing brother seemed less urgent.
We’re well-capable of multitasking and juggling multiple priorities at once, however. I believe it’s still worth investigating along the way; after all, what if you find that he was only ever one alley away in Baldur’s Gate all along? What if we walked past him without knowing, and could have gotten two birds with one stone? Not literally, but I expect you know what I mean.
( Gale clears his throat before writing the next lines, considering that this might be the moment to broach the first idea which had occurred to him. )
So. To that end. Do you happen to have a portrait of your brother? Or better yet, a personal possession or old garment of Rhyle’s? Or best yet, a body part?
( This is a very alarming train of thought, Gale. )
Sorry, that sounds worse than it is! A lock of hair would do as well. Anything along those lines.
When you put it that way, you do bring up a valid point. I'm sorry I didn't bring this up before. I didn't want to burden anyone with my problems when we're facing possible world ending circumstances.
[There was a pause as Koh crowed a brow at his question. A body part? She was glad when he clarified what he meant cause she didn't make a habit of carrying around severed limbs.]
I don't know how useful my description of Rhyle is anymore. We were both so young when he was take from me. Gods know I have changed a lot over the years. But we were as close as you could get without being identical. I remember him teasing me that he was starting to get taller than me... However there is one unique thing both he and I share, our eyes. I don't know how deeply you've stared into mine but as you know, my eyes aren't red. Not only that, but if you look closely into my right eye I have a small gold ring around my pupil. Rhyle has one too on his left eye, if that helps in anyway...
I do have some personal effects that were left in his room. A silver pin that he used to hold up his hair. Must have fallen out when they took him that night. But aside from that... I also have a silly little spider weave bracelet we made when we were kids.
Why are you asking? You have something in mind, Gale?
The personal effects! ( He almost jolts, lurching in the excitement of seeing the pieces starting to click together, knowing how it could work. )
The pin and the bracelet would do marvellously. Have you ever heard of scrying? It’s a difficult spell but well within my capabilities; it’s used to see and hear a particular creature on this plane, for about ten minutes. If I could get a lock on him, I could at least verify if he’s alive, and what he looks like now, and perhaps intuit by his surroundings to get a starting clue as to where he is.
We’d just need those personal effects— and a thousand gold to pick up a crystal ball or silver mirror or similar.
[Koh felt her heart cease in her chest, nearly dropping her notebook to the ground. All those years searching... Had the answer always been this simple? The cleric had to steady her hand from shaking before she wrote again.]
No... I haven't. Is really such a thing possible?
Gale, you brilliant man! I could kiss you! I'll pay whatever the cost if it will give me answers.
( Gale Dekarios is such a paradoxical mixture of humble yet arrogant, self-loathing yet thinking so very highly of his own arcane abilities, so he demurs with: )
Perfectly possible, yes, although I don’t blame you for not knowing of it; it’s a piece of very advanced magic, and not every wizard is able to work at such a high level. And there’s still a chance it might fail when I cast it, mind you. But it’s certainly worth a try in case.
( Hemming and hawing. Thank the gods she can’t see him right now, specifically: the tips of his ears turning an embarrassed pink. )
Ha ha, no kiss required as payment, of course, it’s the least I could do! What a monster I’d be if I extricated amorous overtures from my companions for every piece of magic wrought.
If you wanted to rp out the scrying, I would be 100% down for it
If there is even just a sliver of hope that it could work, I want to try. The worst the could happen that it fails and I'm back to here I was before.
[There was a beat before her next reply came. Sitting here in her tent she silently was trying to process this new feeling of hope that warmed her heart. The wizard had no idea what this gift meant to her.]
A kiss as payment? Oh no, I would never do something like that. Makes it feel so transactional. I would kiss you because I wanted to.
[Wait... What did she just write? Again she quickly scribbled back in her journal.]
What I meant was, I don't make a habit of kissing just anyone. Kissing someone should mean something and not be used so cheaply as an exchange for goods and services.
( There’s more he could, or should, touch on here, address that dangling comment and the prospect of kisses or not… but in the end, he backpedals safely out of it. )
I’ll start pursuing some leads on supplies, and let you know as soon as we’re ready.
It takes a few days of preparation, of course, and the hefty cost of shopping for an appropriate focus. Gale accepts Kol’s gold and browses various markets for days, pondering crystal balls, breathing on the glass of a mirror and wiping off its surface with the sleeve of his robes, rapping his knuckles on the silver frame. He picks up a gigantic basin and tilts it back and forth, considering filling it with holy water for the scrying, but then sets it down as being too large and unwieldy.
A thousand gold was rich, but so long as Kol decided price was no object —
In the end, Gale successfully arranges for their scrying session. There’s a picnic blanket (the same he’d used the night he showed her the Weave) spread out on a field under the stars. He’d waited for a clear night; not because it’s strictly necessary, but because this is difficult enough without the distraction of pouring rain around them. Despite all his bluster, he primarily prides himself on evocation and illusion magic, and divination isn’t his strong suit.
Standing in the field, hands propped on his hips, Gale surveys his work — and then, hearing the woman approaching, he glances back over with his face breaking into a smile.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Wait. Shit. Erase! Erase it! Hurried scribbling follows.]
I mean, its nice. Good! The beard suits you! I hope you keep it.
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Thank you, now please, if you could just tell my tressym that, she doesn’t listen to anything I have to say —
I think I will keep it, if you think it suits. It marks quite the effective delineation between the old me and the present me, too. Have you ever done something like that? Chopped off all your hair in a fit of pique and wanting to turn a new leaf and reinvent yourself. Dyed it purple, perhaps, or gotten an ill-advised tattoo.
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[There was a small sigh of relief from the drow. Seems like her slip of the pen went unnoticed.]
Me? Actually... I do. The tattoo on my face I got shortly after I fled the Underdark. Its to honor my goddess, Eilistraee, so when others look upon me they will know where my allegiance lay. My final act of rebellion against Lolth, I guess. And... I used to hate my eyes. They were a source of shame not being red like my other Sisters. But now I'm proud not to have the Spider Queen's favor.
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That's why I fled. I did it for him, for us. He's the only family I have. After all this is over, I plan on picking back up my search for him.
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I’m so sorry, Koh. Kolnatha. You did the right thing: the right and just and honourable and compassionate thing. I don’t mean to impugn your culture, of course, I’m certain there’s much else to appreciate in the Underdark, but the lack of compassion in Menzoberranzan is— well. That’s terrible. Compassion isn’t a weakness; sometimes it’s the bravest course of action.
Do you have any leads on where he might be?
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Thank you, Gale. I'm glad to hear you think so. And don't worry, I take no offense. I know first hand how brutal drow culture can be and I agree with you. The fear, the mistrust, the constant looking over your shoulder... Lolth thrives on pitting her people against eachother. Reveals in the chaos. Things like compassion or even love for that matter simply doesn't exist. Feelings like those can get you killed. Nearly killed me. But that's a story for a different time.
However, there is one thing I do miss... despite its dangers the Underdark has its own beauty. Even in the darkest of places, light can be found. Usually luring you to your death, but beautiful all the same. Of course it doesn't compare to a canopy of glittering stars, mind you.
I was chasing down a lead before I was kidnapped by the nautiloid. Might be another dead end like all the others I've followed. My Matron did a good job covering her tracks about the deal so I don't have much to go on other than hunting down any mention of a male drow sighting. I never brought this up before since it would have taken us away from our current path. In the order of priority of all the other problems we're facing, finding a missing brother seemed less urgent.
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( Gale clears his throat before writing the next lines, considering that this might be the moment to broach the first idea which had occurred to him. )
So. To that end. Do you happen to have a portrait of your brother? Or better yet, a personal possession or old garment of Rhyle’s? Or best yet, a body part?
( This is a very alarming train of thought, Gale. )
Sorry, that sounds worse than it is! A lock of hair would do as well. Anything along those lines.
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[There was a pause as Koh crowed a brow at his question. A body part? She was glad when he clarified what he meant cause she didn't make a habit of carrying around severed limbs.]
I don't know how useful my description of Rhyle is anymore. We were both so young when he was take from me. Gods know I have changed a lot over the years. But we were as close as you could get without being identical. I remember him teasing me that he was starting to get taller than me... However there is one unique thing both he and I share, our eyes. I don't know how deeply you've stared into mine but as you know, my eyes aren't red. Not only that, but if you look closely into my right eye I have a small gold ring around my pupil. Rhyle has one too on his left eye, if that helps in anyway...
I do have some personal effects that were left in his room. A silver pin that he used to hold up his hair. Must have fallen out when they took him that night. But aside from that... I also have a silly little spider weave bracelet we made when we were kids.
Why are you asking? You have something in mind, Gale?
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The pin and the bracelet would do marvellously. Have you ever heard of scrying? It’s a difficult spell but well within my capabilities; it’s used to see and hear a particular creature on this plane, for about ten minutes. If I could get a lock on him, I could at least verify if he’s alive, and what he looks like now, and perhaps intuit by his surroundings to get a starting clue as to where he is.
We’d just need those personal effects— and a thousand gold to pick up a crystal ball or silver mirror or similar.
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No... I haven't. Is really such a thing possible?
Gale, you brilliant man! I could kiss you! I'll pay whatever the cost if it will give me answers.
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Perfectly possible, yes, although I don’t blame you for not knowing of it; it’s a piece of very advanced magic, and not every wizard is able to work at such a high level. And there’s still a chance it might fail when I cast it, mind you. But it’s certainly worth a try in case.
( Hemming and hawing. Thank the gods she can’t see him right now, specifically: the tips of his ears turning an embarrassed pink. )
Ha ha, no kiss required as payment, of course, it’s the least I could do! What a monster I’d be if I extricated amorous overtures from my companions for every piece of magic wrought.
If you wanted to rp out the scrying, I would be 100% down for it
[There was a beat before her next reply came. Sitting here in her tent she silently was trying to process this new feeling of hope that warmed her heart. The wizard had no idea what this gift meant to her.]
A kiss as payment? Oh no, I would never do something like that. Makes it feel so transactional. I would kiss you because I wanted to.
[Wait... What did she just write? Again she quickly scribbled back in her journal.]
What I meant was, I don't make a habit of kissing just anyone. Kissing someone should mean something and not be used so cheaply as an exchange for goods and services.
hELL yeah
( There’s more he could, or should, touch on here, address that dangling comment and the prospect of kisses or not… but in the end, he backpedals safely out of it. )
I’ll start pursuing some leads on supplies, and let you know as soon as we’re ready.
It takes a few days of preparation, of course, and the hefty cost of shopping for an appropriate focus. Gale accepts Kol’s gold and browses various markets for days, pondering crystal balls, breathing on the glass of a mirror and wiping off its surface with the sleeve of his robes, rapping his knuckles on the silver frame. He picks up a gigantic basin and tilts it back and forth, considering filling it with holy water for the scrying, but then sets it down as being too large and unwieldy.
A thousand gold was rich, but so long as Kol decided price was no object —
In the end, Gale successfully arranges for their scrying session. There’s a picnic blanket (the same he’d used the night he showed her the Weave) spread out on a field under the stars. He’d waited for a clear night; not because it’s strictly necessary, but because this is difficult enough without the distraction of pouring rain around them. Despite all his bluster, he primarily prides himself on evocation and illusion magic, and divination isn’t his strong suit.
Standing in the field, hands propped on his hips, Gale surveys his work — and then, hearing the woman approaching, he glances back over with his face breaking into a smile.
“Kolnatha! Good evening. Are you ready?”