Galamithra Moonshadow

"Bellsulion Taurvantian," a vision of loveliness materialized before the elf, seemingly drawn forth from the ether into his vision, "it gladdens my heart to see that you've survived the attack unscathed."

Mithra was, by far in Zeph's opinion, the most beautiful elf and therefore creature to have ever graced Ember. To think of it, Zeph could not recall anyone in Dunmar who ever claimed differently.

"Ah, fair maiden Mithra, as ever you grace my sight as the sun graces a morning meadow," the wizard bowed deeply like a courtier. He knew he played the fool, and looked it as well in his somewhat tattered cloak, stained with mud from the banks of the Ubathor and the recent battle. The nukks had drawn back after their assault, but it was clear they simply gathered their courage for another bloody attempt at the walls. The smell of burned meat was omnipresent. He did not care how he appeared.

"Only you, Zephyr, would think of courtesy in such dreadful times. Always you hold yourself just slightly above the mayhem." The girl hurt to look at. Her skin so pale and flawless. Her form, lithe and inviting. Her face, combining mortal features in a way that would shame Ainna Herself.

"My loftiest praise is but crude and mean insult to your beauty, dearest Mithra, and I fear that my unworthy muttering has smudged your face a bit," Zeph put his hand up to Mithra's face and tried to wipe a spot of soot from her cheek, but only made it worse.

"There, I think I got it all," he lied, a grin on his face. She grinned back. Suddenly self conscious in the glare of that exquisite smile, Zeph looked around. "Oh, I am rude beyond redemption. These are my companions from the road. You know Grimnar. This is Domi, I think they're related by the way, and then Ban, he's taller than he looks, Seles, stalwart of Thane, and Beck who fancies himself a Paladin of Narl, with emphasis on the 'fancy'."

Everyone tipped a hat and mumbled a greeting except Grimnar, who took her hand and shook it firmly. "Glad you lived, lass," he said gruffly but not without affection. "Surprised you lived even. How'd you get across?"

"I was not far from Master Allor, who had with him on his horse a flying rug of sorts. I and twelve others were able to crowd onto it. We waged battle on the snaptails for hours, losing only two of our number and slaying a half dozen of the creatures with slings, short bows and magic. It was dreadful, to be frank, but I suppose no more dreadful than the predicament we find ourselves in today."

"Ah," Zeph exclaimed, his eyes bright, "I am gladdened to hear that Master Allor yet lives! I would have word with him when I can!"

"He fights with my group on the north wall. We flew in after dark and set up camp there. I'm afraid the fighting has been difficult there, with a heavy rain of arrows coming from that great mob of miscreants with nothing better to do than to fire their poorly-made bows at us. They hit more of their own than they hit us by far, but they care not who falls. Such recklessness in their cause is disheartening."

"I will come to see you this very night, if I yet live. are you sleeping up there at the battlements?"

"Yes, we have warm blankets and a good overhang in case it rains. I would be glad for your visit, should I yet live."

Mithra was a warrior and Zeph a wizard, so most of their training was well-removed from the other's, but there were few enough elves in Dunmar that all new each other well by the end of their schooling. Zeph always fancied that perhaps Mithra was a bit sweet on him, and not completely without evidence, but he was consumed by his studies and she by her practice, and neither had the time or inclination for romance in those difficult days. That didn't keep her from putting his heart in his throat every time he first saw her, of course, but a disciplined mind can forgo much, given the proper motivation. Zeph never lacked for motivation.

"I must return before the nukks get restless," Mithra said, frowning. She put her slender but strong hands on the sides of Zeph's head and kissed him on the forehead. She spun on her heel and looked back as she marched north across the gatehouse. "If we yet live," she yelled with a wink.

"If we yet live," Zeph said, almost to himself.

"Are you and the little hottie an item then Zeph?" Domi asked in his characteristically direct manner.

"No," the elf responded a bit distantly, "we are but good friends."

"So then you won't mind if I court the lassy in my free time then?"

Zephyr looked intently at the Dwarf for a solid minute. His expression was that of bug collector trying to decide just where to place the pin. The rest of the group broke into low chuckles. "Do as you wish Domi, if you think you have the art to stalk that prey."

"What I lack in charm, I make up for in honesty, forthrightness, and a hairy chest. The girls all swoon for a hairy chest."

"From what I've seen of Dwarven women," Ban mused, "they all have hairier chests than you!"

"An' what's wrong with that I ask ye'?" Domi's Dwarf always came out when he was flustered. "It's a fine woman can grow a proper layer of good, course hair on her chest!"

The others were well past chuckling by this point, and even Zeph had forgotten to be offended. Their laughter carried on for a few more minutes, and then was abruptly forgotten. The air was rent by the sound of deep and discordant  horns. The Nukks were coming again.

  1. Torgash Said,

    Oh very nice.  Zeph has a girlfriend, just what he needs to get himself killed.  Better to find a lass that prefers coin to courtship if y' ask me. 

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