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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jun 20, 2010 10:19:51 GMT -8
Nasrin was absolutely delighted to be out of the marshes, pausing for a few moments in a ray of sunlight to bask in it, her head tilted back and her eyes closed. When the sun had warmed her skin sufficiently, the woman trotted after Gabriel. However, at this point, Nasrin moved to walk beside him rather than following behind him. She didn’t have to worry about the marshes anymore. And she didn’t like having to follow an outsider. Walking beside him didn’t hurt her pride as much.
Why didn’t he walk in the sun? She would step directly into the rays happily, enjoying the warmth that it brought after spending hours in the dark, dank marshes, but Gabriel seemed to deliberately avoid the patches of sunlight. Was it a daemon thing? Nasrin vaguely remembered stories from when she was young of creatures who stalked the night, doomed to stay out of day’s warmth. She had always thought it was a story meant to scare her, but maybe there was truth in it. “Can the daemons not walk in the sun? You avoid it,” she stated suddenly, watching Gabriel as she walked.
A moment later, however, he was talking about the daemon’s laws and some of their culture, and she decided that it wasn’t too terribly far from her own. There were differences, however, that separated her tribe from the daemons – the Wolverine Tribe was indeed a violent, lethal group of humans, but they weren’t so bad as the daemons from what Gabriel had told her.
Oh, gods. He wanted to know about her tribe. It was only fair, of course, but Nasrin didn’t like it. She would avoid giving out too much information. “We have a leader, yes, and he or she is picked from the Wolverine Warriors. Whoever is considered the best warrior is deemed the leader. Like your species, another Wolverine Warrior can challenge the leader, but our fighting is not to the death. Every member of the tribe is considered family, and we do not kill family. Injuries, however, are common.”
What else could she tell him? Well, he hadn’t really asked about anything else in her tribe yet. Besides, it was his turn. Nasrin had been continually thinking about the coming ritual, and it had made her curious: did the daemons have such rituals?
“Do the daemons have rituals or rites of passage or special holidays that they celebrate?”
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jun 20, 2010 13:46:49 GMT -8
Gabriel's pace was languid now, unhurried and graceful. This was not how he normally travelled; but then, he normally travelled alone or in the company of his second in command. Being a Daemon meant that this encouraged leaning on instinct and basic senses rather than conscious thought processes. That was how he was when he hunted; more animal than sentient creature, wildly dangerous, hardly ever seen as he slipped through shadows off the beaten path.
Such travel did not lend itself to conversation, however, and they were too far from Spirit to make it before nightfall anyway. The Daemon briefly wondered if Nasrin would prefer to travel through the night. Hopefully not. He would quite like the time to create a fire, replenish his energy.
The Daemon glanced at Nasrin in surprise when she questioned him about sunlight. He'd have to get used to that; she was far more observant than he'd given her credit for. It seemed it would take a little more concentration to shake off his old prejudices about humans. "There is no sunlight in Dream Land," Gabriel explained, deciding there was no harm in letting her know this. After all, it would take an as yet unheard of magician to manipulate the sun. "All Daemons have some aversion to sunlight here, because of that. It varies; some feel uncomfortable, others - like me - feel significant pain after any length in the sun. Still others must avoid it all together, or risk death." Not too many suffered so badly as that, fortunately, although the odd Vampire had such a reaction.
More interesting to Gabriel was the information that Nasrin's tribe was indeed set up in a surprisingly similar way to Daemon society. Gabriel knew of the wolverine they named their tribe after, a vicious animal not unlike the Daemons either. Presumably the tribe worshiped the wolverine and took many of their ideals from the creatures reputation for violence. How fascinating.
"The Daemons celebrate very few holidays; some of us celebrate the day of death of those we were close to. We do not acknowledge the Fae gods as a rule, and therefore none of our rituals consider the sacred balance the Fae abide by.
Our rituals mostly center around dominance and submission. You fight for dominance and, if you lose, you remain submissive to them until you win a freedom fight. Slaves can free themselves this way, too. All in all very basic because the Daemons bind each individual to as few rules and customs as possible, in order to maintain the individuality of each which we consider important above all else."
Gabriel smiled, curious as to what might have prompted her question. "You, perhaps, have more complex rituals than this? Your tribe seems to have a strong sense of loyalty towards each member so it would follow that you have rituals and customs to encourage the sense of family you mentioned."[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jun 21, 2010 9:04:27 GMT -8
Of course she would be more observant than the average human; out in the wild, if you weren't observant, you died. The woman listened carefully to Gabriel's explanation, intrigued by it. No sunlight in Dream Land? The more she heard about it, the more Nasrin wanted to actually visit the place. However, she doubted that would be safe. Not that she wasn't up to such a challenge; she was just intelligent enough to realize that, if humans didn't originate from Dream Land, they probably didn't belong there. She had heard of places that drove people literally to insanity. Nasrin didn't know if Dream Land was one such place, but the woman enjoyed her sanity.
She liked listening to his stories. It was his voice that did it. But then, it seemed it was her turn again. Nasrin frowned, unsure if she should tell of their rituals or not. Other sentient beings tended to frown upon sacrifices; but she really didn't care if Gabriel disliked the tradition. It was her tribe's ritual, not his. If he didn't like it, well, then he could just hole up and hide during the ritual, lest he end up as one of the sacrifices.
"We celebrate birthdays, and their is a small festival every time a child is born. But those are not our main rituals. The ritual that makes the Wolverine Tribe what it is is the Sacrifice: every three months each member of the tribe is to find a sacrifice to offer to the Wolverine. The sacrifice is judged by its intelligence, for the more intelligent the creature the more difficult it is to catch. The member with the best sacrifice is treated well for the next three months, and the member with the worst is not treated the best in the world. If a member fails to bring a sacrifice, they are banished from the tribe." Her eyes flicked to Gabriel. How would he process this information?
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jun 22, 2010 15:29:39 GMT -8
Gabriel remained silent for a few moments as he pondered her words. A sacrifice, huh? This obviously raised a few important questions, chief among them whether Nasrin had decided he'd make a good contender. Unsurprisingly perhaps for the leader of a particularly violent and dangerous race, it was not the sacrifice itself that bothered him so much as the idea of being said sacrifice.
Nothing changed outwardly as the Daemon continued his unhurried progress through the forest shadows, only the occasional stray beam of sunlight managing to glance off his brilliant silver-cream skin. But inwardly, several possibilities had occurred to him. Was Nasrin simply employing a rather clever technique to lead him to the rest of her tribe, in order to offer him as the sacrifice?
It seemed unlikely. He was the navigator and had been controlling the direction they travelled, with no prompts from his companion. And who was to say this ritual was even soon? Of course Nasrin had chosen Spirit and there was always a chance that her tribe lay in wait en route, having gathered to perform the ritual in some arbitrary place since they were nomadic.
But, what to do if this was the case? Gabriel glanced briefly at Nasrin. If it was indeed the case that Nasrin was planning some elaborate, if unlikely, sacrifice idea then he'd be willing to bet that she was expected to perform the task alone and without the help of a tribe full of warriors. So at worst Gabriel would have a one on one fight with her and the tribe would have a very angry Daemon on their hands. At best she wasn't planning a sacrifice just yet and, as it happened, the Daemon was rather enjoying the company. No need to start worrying yet. Best to consider the options, though. He would not make the mistake of underestimating this tribe.
"You perform this sacrifice as a worship for the wolverine? That is an odd concept for a Daemon, although we see practices of faith all the time among the Fae. We have no gods, and no widespread beliefs." Most Daemons were atheistic, although it was, like most things in Daemon culture, an individual choice.
"What about bloodlines? I've always been curious about humans, but have never spent enough time with one to ask. Do Mortals have bloodlines or kiths like we do? The Golems, the Vampires, the Demons, and the Elementals...all Daemons, but all very different; as different as lions are from tigers. Are Mortals the same?" He left unspoken the implied question; if this is so, then what was Nasrin and her tribe? For certainly they seemed as different from city dwelling Humans as dogs from wolves.[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jun 23, 2010 9:06:37 GMT -8
Throughout the entire time Gabriel had been silent, Nasrin had studied him, waiting for some kind of reaction - interest in the ritual, terror as being around such a bloodthristy woman or potentially being her sacrifice, anything. When he didn't react, the warrior decided that he was either incredibly good at hiding his worry or he honestly didn't care about her ritual. Either case seemed likely.
Nasrin had decided that Gabriel was still useful to her, and so she had mentally crossed him out as a potential sacrifice. The ritual was still a few days away, and they would be in Spirit by then; if it was a large enough city, no one would notice a disappearance.
She tilted her head. "I've heard of the Gods that other humans, fae, and shapeshifters worship, but very little. Perhaps when we get to Spirit, I'll ask about these Gods," she mused, speaking mostly to herself.
Bloodlines? She quirked her eyebrow at Gabriel, mildly confused as to what he was asking. "Humans are humans. We do, however, have different practices. Mages, sorcerers, and shamans of different powers as well as the scholars, warriors, bards, and artisans. So, I suppose that humans are slightly different based on their practices, but, as I said before, humans are just humans. There are so special branches." She knew of the other humans, since they had often visited the tribe when they had camped near a town of them, so she would be able to tell about them at least in some detail. "If you meant my tribe specifically, however, we have only one shaman and the rest of the tribe tend to be considered a scholar, warrior, or artisan, depending on the job they do."
Golems, vampires, demons, elementals... Which was Gabriel? "And which bloodline are you specifically?" Nasrin asked. She wasn't able to tell the difference between them; she didn't even know what bloodline the daemon that had visited her tribe was from.
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jun 23, 2010 15:39:24 GMT -8
Gabriel could feel her eyes trained on him, studying for a reaction. She wouldn't find one. Like all Daemons Gabriel was very good at hiding his emotions; his interest in her rituals and the silent pondering over possibilities never flickered across his elegant features, which instead remained unchanged and unreadable. It was a quirk of the Daemon race and a rather unsettling one at times.
Gabriel, in fact, was even better at it than most. Charisma was a funny thing; his was magically enhanced through his bloodlines, but ordinary charisma which could enchant people nearly as effectively was no magic trick. It was the ability to read expression and body language, the most subtle of signs of a persons inner state, while simultaneously ignoring or finding hidden meaning in their words. And then it required responding in such a way that the person could not help but feel assured and at ease. It was this that Gabriel had spent over four hundred years mastering and, in turn, he'd learnt how to respond in a way that kept people guessing, or made them trust him - whatever was called for at the time - despite his inner experience.
So the Daemon merely smiled fleetingly as she searched but failed to find a reaction. What would be normal here? Shock, perhaps, or fear. He felt neither of these - little shocked the Daemon Lord these days.
"That is interesting," Gabriel mused. "Humans, with the exception of you, have always seemed oddly similar to me. No defining features. Nothing to set them apart from each other. Perhaps that is the reason." They were ascending now, out of the lower regions of the Forest which led to the Marshes. Sunlight had ceased to break through the canopy and the Daemon walked more freely, keeping an eye out for somewhere sheltered as he did.
"I ask because I wondered if your tribe was a special case, like I am. Daemons are fairly easy to tell apart. Demons have characteristics of animals, Elementals are formed strongly around their particular element, Golems are unusually beautiful and talented, and Vampires more than any other resemble the other races - presumably to walk more easily among their prey." Nasrin's tribe, however, did not seem to be so different based on their bloodlines. Perhaps it was the simple process of living in the Forest and practicing a ritual which consistently weeded out unfit individuals.
"I am a half-breed. My mother was a Fire Elemental; striking, playful, unpredictable, but so wrapped up in fire that she was almost disconnected from reality. My father was a Bardic Golem and it is him I take after more strongly; my magical abilities, most of my looks...he, too, was insane in his own way. I like to think the combination managed to breed out that kind of instability." Gabriel grinned, shaking dark hair from his line of vision. It had held true so far. He hoped it would hold out long enough at least for him to prove a long-lived and effective leader.
"And am I right in guessing you to be a warrior?"[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jun 24, 2010 9:46:28 GMT -8
"I suppose that would be the reason behind it, yes." Nasrin did not have the same opinion as Gabriel. She thought that every human looked completely different from the others, save for obvious family members. Occasionally one would find two unrelated individuals who resembled each other in the face or the eyes or the body, but for the most part everyone looked different. Of course, she was not a daemon, and so she didn't see through daemon eyes.
The moment Gabriel said golems were beautiful and talented, Nasrin categorized him as a golem. Everything about the daemon suggested so. She quickly learned that she was only half-right in her assumption. A half-breed between a fire elemental and a bardic golem... That was certainly an interesting combination. And, it explained so much to the woman. Nasrin now understood why she felt so at ease (well, at ease compared to other outsiders) around Gabriel and why she enjoyed his company. His magic said that she must.
"And if it turns out that the instability is still there? What will you do then?" It had to be asked. Nasrin was assured that she could handle herself, but the woman had decided that fighting off a daemon would be a tough battle - she certainly didn't want to have to fight a crazy daemon. She would prefer to not have to fight a crazy anything. Crazies were, well, crazy. They would do anything in a fight, even if it injured themselves severely. And, they often kept getting up. Nasrin liked her opponents to stay down once they'd been stabbed a few times, thank you.
The warrior nodded quickly at his question. "You would be correct." Instinctively, her hand tightened on her spear; it was actually the spearhead that contained the specific magic that she held, which aided in making her attacks more fluid. The woman could still fight well without her spear, or with a different spear, but she preferred her own. "A large portion of my tribe are warriors."
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jun 24, 2010 16:33:53 GMT -8
"I had guessed as much. A tribe such that you have described to me would need warriors to survive the lifestyle they've chosen. And it follows, since you're armed, and you've been sent to learn more about outsiders. Has it proved fruitful so far?" Gabriel had shared information relatively freely, choosing to omit certain key personal information about himself (like he usually did - Daemons did not characterize power the same way Humans did) but sharing details about the Daemons quite happily. All Daemons loved stories, Gabriel included, and sharing his own was part of that process.
The Daemon merely shrugged at her question, seemingly unworried. "You'd be surprised how common it is for Daemons to be at least somewhat disconnected from reality. We're a wild race; passionate, violent, unpredictable. It's not that abnormal." Gabriel sighed, thoughts returning once more to his parents.
"My father is sadistic, a wanton murderer and seducer. My mother, on the other hand, wanders at random and on a whim, rarely present enough to interact with others and presumably rarely interested in doing so. If I followed in their footsteps it would...shock...many of my kind but they would soon forget it. I would doubtless become nomadic, even more than I am now, and take to frequenting the darker areas of Litharia." He'd cross that bridge if he came to it, of course, but he would not be alone. Plenty of Daemons that wanted nothing to do with polite society or any form of etiquette wandered Litharia, dangerous but rarely stumbled upon.
"Anyway, I wouldn't worry about it happening in the short time I am near you. I've had more than four hundred years to lose my head and it hasn't happened yet. It would really be very bad luck for it to happen anytime soon." A memory of shallow caves, little more than depressions it a nearby rock face but enough to give some protection (lighting a fire in the open forest of Litharia was more trouble than it was worth, as it attracted all manner of curious and malevolent creatures). "Would you object to resting for a little while? We do not need to spend the night, although I certainly wouldn't object to it, but I would at least like a few hours to replenish my reserves. I haven't fed in several days." He'd fed in the regular sense only yesterday and like most large carnivores preferred large infrequent meals, but it had been too long since the warmth and energy of fire had been available.[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jun 28, 2010 9:30:00 GMT -8
“So far?” She glanced at Gabriel, thinking about everything she had learned so far about the daemons. It was more than she had expected to learn, that was for sure. So was that a success? Nasrin didn’t consider it a full success, no, but it was getting somewhere. “Yes, I think I’ve gotten somewhere today. It’s honestly more than I expected.” Her mind wandered back to her tribe as she spoke, thinking about the members there. As she thought of them, an ache formed in her chest, and the woman realized that she missed her family a lot. It made sense; she had never once been without at least one tribesmen, and now she was completely alone in a world of outsiders. So maybe she could survive them, but she really didn’t want to. The longer she thought of it, the more Nasrin wished she could go home.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Gabriel spoke about the insanity of the daemons, specifically about his mother and father. She nodded at his reassurance that it wouldn’t happen in the near future, and then the woman was shocked to realize just how old the daemon was. 400 years… She couldn’t imagine living that long. Gabriel had lived four human lives, and he was probably going to live more than that.
Nasrin quirked an eyebrow at the daemon, surprised by his want to rest. However, she wouldn’t mind a rest; it would be easier if they just walk through the night to Spirit, but it wasn’t necessary. Besides, spending the night with Gabriel didn’t seem like it would be a horrible experience anyways. “I don’t mind. But how do you feed? I have a feeling its not the same as my feeding.” Perhaps it had something to do with fire? He had said that he was half fire elemental, so that seemed like a good guess for her. Or maybe it had to do with the bardic golem side? What would a bardic golem eat that wasn’t normal food? She couldn’t think of anything that would work, or, more specifically, anything that seemed food-worthy that would work. Imagine feeding off charisma and stories? … Well, the world was full of magic. She supposed it could be possible. It seemed highly inconvenient, however.
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jun 28, 2010 14:07:53 GMT -8
More than she'd expected. Gabriel smiled. "Daemons love stories. I've been spellbound by yours, and in return it is only fair to share mine. Certainly I have learnt more about a new world of Humans than I could have hoped." Especially considering that he hadn't known of their existence until a few hours previous.
However being a different kind of Human to the city-dwelling one didn't make her entirely alien to them. Out of the corner of his eye Gabriel registered her shock at his casual mention of his age, having forgotten that Humans lived, often, for less than a hundred years. Such a brief time! Gabriel had been Daemon Lord longer than that period and still it made up only a section of his lifespan. Briefly he wondered how old Nasrin was. It was much easier to tell with Humans than with the Fae or especially the Daemons, who often remained youthful in appearance until the day they died. He guessed she was fairly young, early twenties at most. Gabriel hardly even remembered those early, formative years of his own life in Dream Land.
"You're right, it's not quite the same. It's complicated by my half-breeding. I require both real food and the energy of fire to survive; however I'm an obligate carnivore and fed only yesterday, so tonight my only concern is for fire." The pale Daemon soon found what he was looking for. The rock face was not large and the caves were very shallow, but it would provide shelter for him to feed in peace.
"I'd imagine you need something more tangible, though? If you wish to hunt, don't let me stop you." The Daemon selected a cave at random, already breaking off sections of dry wood from the trees (which seemed perfectly happy to give up the odd branch) with startling ease. Gabriel seemed built for speed rather than strength; he was tall and lean with light musculature. However like many of his kind, his frame hid a surprising raw strength. Sitting cross legged, Gabriel built up the fuel for a fire and then allowed the claws on one elegant hand to extend to their full length. These he struck sharply against a piece of flint incorporated cleverly into one of his many silver necklaces until sparks caught the dry tinder and flames began to creep through the wood.[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jun 30, 2010 8:48:07 GMT -8
Quietly, Nasrin stepped into the cave Gabriel had chosen, examining the patterns the rock made. Her fingers brushed against the cool stone, until she heard the snap of a branch behind her. The grip on her spear tightened, and the woman quickly looked over her shoulder to see the daemon breaking the branches with ease. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. Certainly the man seemed like he could run great distances with high speeds, but he didn’t seem to be super strong. The display in front of her suggested otherwise, though. Hm… Maybe fighting a daemon would be even more of a bad idea than she had originally thought, at least if all the daemons were like Gabriel and were deceptively stronger than they looked.
This daemon just kept surprising her, didn’t he?
She had heard his words, but the woman waited and watched him start the fire. The flint necklace was a good idea in her opinion. However, her hazel eyes were drawn more to the huge claws that Gabriel had suddenly sprouted. Nasrin imagined that those claws could easily tear through flesh, and she added another tick to the list that said Danger Level of Daemons.
Shifting her spear in her hand, Nasrin stepped toward the mouth of the cave, pausing there and glancing back at the daemon. “I’ll be back… soon.” And then the woman left the cave, stepping around the trees. She had hunted before, of course, but she wasn’t a natural at it like she was at fighting. Nasrin couldn’t track animals very well. So it was no surprise that it took her nearly an hour to even find any animals. And, when she did find an animal, it was simply a squirrel. However, the woman was hungry and squirrels that lived in the wild were delicious, so she decided to go for the kill. One look at her spear, comparing it to the squirrel, told her that she would have to use her dagger instead, lest she wanted a mostly mutilated meal.
The animal had smelled her. It hadn’t seen her, since it kept looking around worriedly, but it knew she was there. Silently, Nasrin crept around the side of the tree that the squirrel was not looking, managing to get within a few feet of the little animal. Then, with great accuracy, the woman threw the dagger at the animal, hitting it in the back of the neck and pinning it to the ground. Carefully, she extracted her dagger and her meal then made her way back to the cave.
As she approached, the woman picked a good stick from the trees, taking it with her back to the fire. There, Nasrin set about skinning the creature and removing the head and limbs. Those she buried in a shallow hole next to her. The body of her meal she stuck carefully onto the stick, and when she was finished the woman held the stick over the fire to roast her meal. Her eyes flicked to Gabriel. “I’m not a hunter,” she said simply, as if to explain why she had been gone for so long and why a squirrel was all she had returned with. Not that she needed much more than that; Nasrin could live off one little squirrel with complaint.
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jun 30, 2010 14:38:38 GMT -8
Gabriel watched her examine the cave as she prepared the fire, then examine the new scraps of information he offered. His strength and his claws - which indeed were his only weapons; he had no skill with a blade or a bow - were carefully noted. These Wolverine Warriors seemed well suited to survival here if Nasrin was anything to go by. Smart enough to know what to look for, observant enough to pick up the subtle signs of danger.
What was less surprising, though, was the lack of hunting skill she demonstrated. Nasrin had already informed him that each member of her tribe had a specific role, and he had guessed her age to be two decades at most - only about half of which could have been used to develop skills. It followed that Nasrin's abilities in tracking and catching animals had not been developed out of a lack of time and need. Nevertheless, the Daemon could not suppress a faint smile at the squirrel, half of which she didn't even eat! He was not so picky. The meat he caught he ate raw and in whole; Daemons had a strong stomach, it seemed.
Reaching one elegant hand into the flames and watching, entranced as ever, as the fire danced harmlessly over his pale silver-cream skin and crawled up his bare forearm generously before flickering into nothing out of lack of fuel, Gabriel sighed briefly when he felt the energy slowly warm him from the inside out. His body temperature was already unusually high - high enough that he needed no more clothing than he wore now, even in the depths of winter - but as he allowed fire to lick hopefully at his flawless moonstone skin it raised even higher, sending out waves of warmth that quickly chased any chill out of the small cave.
Eventually though he tore his striking eyes away from the flames that fascinated him with their almost living, breathing beauty and paid attention to his company. "Of course, you did mention that members of your tribe have a specific task. You're a warrior, not a hunter. If that is not enough to sustain you comfortably until we reach Spirit..." Gabriel looked doubtfully at the squirrel - his own meals were large and infrequent and consuming one or two entire large herbivores was normal - "Then I could always hunt. I've had far more practise than you, I'd guess." The Daemon grinned, shaking his head in confusion as she cooked the meat.[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jul 1, 2010 10:44:43 GMT -8
Her eyes flicked to Gabriel, mildly confused - and a bit insulted - by his offer to hunt for her. It would never be likely for her to offer help to an outsider, especially if they didn't even ask for it; so why did the daemon offer help to her? Maybe the daemons were not as untrustworthy as her tribe... That was very likely, actually. The Wolverine Tribe had never been known for trusting outsiders.
Nasrin shook her head and looked back to her meal, twisting the squirrel over so that the other side had a chance to cook as well. "While I eat more than the average human, I also have the endurance to not eat for a few days, unlike the city-dwellers that you are used to. This will be enough for tonight and tomorrow; however, if we pause again tomorrow night, I'll have to hunt again." Again, her eyes flicked to Gabriel, locking with his. "I do not need your help if I don't ask for it." The words were slightly harsher than the rest of her tone, meant to tell him not to insult her again by offering help without her asking for it. If she asked for it, that was an entirely different thing - like his guiding her to Spirit.
As she cooked her meal, she watched the fire licking his skin from the corner of her eye, intrigued by its movements. Nasrin expected Gabriel's hand to start burning and turning black from the way he kept it in the fire, but of course it didn't. Whether that was a daemon thing or because he was half fire elemental, she didn't know. But it fascinated her to watch the fire leaping up onto his skin. Slowly, Nasrin reached her free hand toward the fire, feeling the heat increase as her flesh got closer and closer. While she couldn't just leave her hand in the fire, the woman could play with it without burning the skin if she kept moving her hand in and out of the fire, though the fine hair on her hand was a different story. After a few moments, the smell of burnt hair wafted up to her, and Nasrin crinkled her nose, drawing her hand back and resting it against her stomach, enjoying the warmth it provided.
Finally, her food was done, and Nasrin drew the stick away from the fire and began to eat with relish, enjoying the taste of cooked meat. After a few bites, she looked to Gabriel again. "So. Will we be spending the night here or not? It doesn't matter to me." Actually, once she had sat down, the woman had gotten rather comfortable and realized that she was tired. Well, tired enough that she could sleep if they stayed the night, but not so tired that she couldn't continue traveling. A rest did sound nice, but it wasn't necessary for her, which is why she left the decision to her guide. However, he might need less rest than even she.
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jul 6, 2010 14:53:53 GMT -8
Gabriel watched Nasrin closely for a moment, dragging his attention away from the flames that danced over his skin. It took only moments to decipher the tenseness in her body as she replied, and the harshness of her tone. It seemed his offer of help was taken as an insult.
The Daemon chuckled, shaking his head. "Consider it noted." Humans were strange creatures, even those that lived among the trees. For the forest creatures help was given and taken freely; even the Daemons, infamous for their fierce pride, made everyday efforts of assistance without even thinking about it, and received them in return - it was a sign of mutual respect, affection, friendship or love, depending on the relationship. Gabriel made a mental note not to offhandedly touch Nasrin as he would another Daemon or a Fae - he knew the city dwelling Humans considered this unacceptable, and despite his amusement he had no overt desire to offend his companion.
He watched as Nasrin reached experimentally into the fire, able to manipulate the flames if she moved quickly enough, though no less vulnerable to their heat than most. His sharp senses picked up the smell of burning hair quickly and he wrinkled his nose, unaccustomed to the scent. He never cooked his meat, after all, so even the smell of the squirrel was relatively unfamiliar out here in the forest.
"If you don't mind I would prefer to stay here for the night. I have a Daemon's endurance but I see no reason to travel through the night, and the longer I spend replenishing my energy the longer I will be able to go without having to do so again." As he spoke the Daemon reached his other hand into the fire too, sighing in obvious rapture at the rush it provided. He could quite comfortably allow the fire to engulf his whole body, but while he was fireproof his clothing was not and, again, he would prefer not to offend Nasrin or make her uncomfortable.
"But you needn't worry about hunting again; we'll reach Spirit by tomorrow afternoon. Will you stay in a tavern or the like there?" Gabriel normally did despite his natural aversion to closed in rooms, simply because the streets were filthy and there was no greenery for a forest creature to feel comfortable in.[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jul 7, 2010 8:56:41 GMT -8
"Then we will stay here." Unconsciously, the woman relaxed. Her entire body released the tension she had been holding as the decision to rest was finalized. It was if, by deciding to rest, Nasrin felt that she was safe from harm. There was a reason for this. Back in her tribe, watches were set up throughout the night to prevent the tribe from being ambushed in the dark while they were sleeping. Even though Gabriel and herself had no watch, her mind was thinking that she was being protected by some unseen tribes member.
It took her a few moments to realize that, no, a fellow tribesmen was not there to protect her while she slept.
The thought depressed her again. Who knew she would feel so home sick? Shaking the thoughts away by physically shaking her head, Nasrin pulled the roasted squirrel from the fire and blew on a piece of it before taking a bite. Hm. Not too bad. Some of the juice trailed down her chin, and Nasrin's tongue flicked out to try and catch the delicious liquid, though she finally gave up that process and simply wiped the juice away.
Hazel eyes flicked up from her meal to Gabriel. Hm... she hadn't given much thought to where she would stay. Nasrin doubted she would like sleeping in the streets (and the humans in the city probably wouldn't like it either). "I suppose I will," the woman replied, though then another thought struck her. Didn't the city humans use coins as currency, to trade for food and clothes and such? Nasrin had no coins like that. Ah well. When she got to Spirit, perhaps she would find some kind of work there and earn the coins. After all, someone had to have use for a warrior, yes?
"Are you going to stay in Spirit as well when we arrive?" Nasrin asked, taking another hearty bite of her catch. Perhaps Gabriel would stay with her longer than one night. Perhaps not. The woman didn't think she would really care either way - while the daemon's company was nice, it wasn't necessary, considering Nasrin wasn't normally a very social creature.
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jul 7, 2010 14:04:15 GMT -8
He couldn't help but be endlessly fascinated by the fire that danced wildly before him. It was in his nature both as a Daemon and as a part Fire Elemental; Daemon's were unusually striking creatures, beautiful and unpredictable, so in turn they appreciated those qualities in the world around them. And as a Fire Elemental he was intimately attached to his source of energy and life, an element so alive and yet not, beautiful and dangerous just like the Daemon it defined.
But it was rude to keep becoming distracted and Gabriel still enjoyed conversing with Nasrin, so the Daemon stretched out on the floor of the shallow cave, head propped up on one hand and the other still trailing absentmindedly through the flames. Flickering gold-red light danced over silver-cream skin and fire reflected in his bright, sharply intelligent eyes so the teal was bleached away and gold and black danced in it's place. He looked more like a Fire Elemental now than he ever did otherwise and with his body heat rising almost to meet the temperature of the fire, it was a reminder that the fiery, dangerous blood of the Elemental did indeed pair with the blood of the Bardic Golem in the charismatic but predatory Daemon Lord.
Now Gabriel watched with undisguised interest as emotions flickered over Nasrin's expressions, a subtle story for him to read. She seemed sad. Perhaps she missed her home, or at least the people that she loved. At times Gabriel's thoughts strayed to Dream Land and the Daemons he had left behind. Two hundred years did little to dull the sharp memories of his kind. But she was not the kind to dwell on it, he could see. She quickly turned to practical matters.
"Some of the taverns ask only for a little of the coins that city humans trade. Others accept favours or goods; entertainment, food, sexuality or trinkets of beauty. I can normally charm my way in - a gift of mine, a magical ability inherited from my father. So yes, I will stay in Spirit for a time. Many of my kind frequent the place and perhaps I will run into someone I know." He left unspoken the thought that, if Nasrin wasn't averse to his company, it would be easy enough for him to secure them a room. Offers of help were not well received. But he was sure she could easily make a decision over whether to retain his company any longer than the journey to Spirit. If not perhaps he would try to find Calandra. His second in command was fond of Spirit.
"Do you use magic? Humans in the City steal their magic from the Fae, I know, and bind it in artifacts that they use with great effect. Does your tribe weave spells like the Daemons do?"[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jul 10, 2010 9:21:43 GMT -8
The woman was rather fascinated by the daemon's fascination with the fire. She watched her skin reflect the gold-red light, patterns dancing along the moonlight flesh. Her hazel eyes flicked up to Gabriel's, startled by the change in color; it took her a moment to realize that it was the reflection from the fire that had changed the color in his eyes.
Nasrin had never met a fire elemental, but she was certain that they looked like Gabriel did now.
As the daemon spoke, the woman finished off her meal, tossing the stick to the side and wiping her mouth clean of anything that could possibly be left over. Slowly, cautiously, the woman reclined, her forearms resting against the ground behind her and the only thing that held her body up. From her position, she stared into the fire, watching it dance and flicker. Even if she wasn't a fire elemental, or a daemon, she, too, had a fascination with fire. Sometimes the shaman of her tribe would play with the fire during rituals, and she had always wondered how he could do such without hurting himself. It had always interested her.
She snapped out of her thoughts at Gabriel's voice. A small smirk formed over her lips, and Nasrin shook her head. "We of the Wolverine Tribe are not so different from the city-dwellers when it comes to magic, it seems. Humans can't weave spells - our tribe can't weave spells either, because we are human. So, yes, members of the tribe often have certain artifacts that help them use their magic abilities."
Nasrin would not tell Gabriel whether she used such an artifact or not. The woman did, but it was none of his concern. For a fleeting moment, her hazel eyes flicked toward her spear, the spearhead of which was enchanted with her magic. That didn't mean she couldn't use it effectively without the magic, however - her tribe was trained without magical artifacts first, then given the magic to make them even better once they had learned the old-fashioned way.
Her head lolled to the side. She was getting tired, it seemed. "Daemons... they are like the fae? When it comes to magic, that is."
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jul 10, 2010 13:46:30 GMT -8
Still listening as Nasrin spoke, the Daemon rose in a single fluid movement and stretched, cat-like, before the fire. Speed and grace characterised his movement and, like any large predator, he was sinuous and sensual. Effortless elegance hid raw, simmering power as Gabriel slipped briefly into the night to get enough wood to last them, although his sensitive hearing never put him out of range of her words.
He'd been observant enough to see her weariness, which was what had prompted his preparations. His own nudged gently at his awareness, easy to ignore but easier to obey. Daemon endurance was an impressive thing but it did not mean they refused sleep when it was freely available. Gabriel yawned widely, showing the pearly sharp fangs that were almost delicate - a misleading description.
After he stoked the fire the Daemon again dropped to the floor, this time lying flat on his back and stretching muscles still tensed from the day. Again he trailed his hand through the crackling, hissing fire, a faint smile coming to his lips as he did so. And stories, another to sate his curiosity, widened that smile slightly. "I forget, you see, that you are essentially the same as the Humans I know of. You seem very different in my eyes at least. I've met few humans whom I didn't immediately react to as particularly vulnerable prey - not consciously, you understand, but in the instinctual reaction of a predator. You I place on far more even ground with other forest creatures." The moon had shifted enough now for its light to spill through the cave, bleaching the colour from the light that danced over his skin.
And then it was his turn again. "We are like the Fae in that our magic comes from within us. We are unlike them in that ours is very different to theirs - it's the same magic that defines our home, that now leaks into the Tunnels that Daemons first emerged from. The Fae's magic is very beautiful, whimsical, colourful; like art. Daemon magic is chaotic, dangerous, easily corrupted, unpredictable." It was, perhaps, the reason that Humans had not stolen from Daemons in the way they stole from the Fae. To do so would normally kill the user, or send him insane.
"I am keeping you awake with my questions, though. Perhaps we should rest." The Daemon's velvet voice faded into nothing, the sounds of the night coming into the cave instead. Relaxing. Without undue fear Gabriel let his eyes slip shut.[/font]
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Post by Nasrin the Wolverine Warrior on Jul 13, 2010 10:15:05 GMT -8
For several moments, Nasrin stared at Gabriel, wondering if he had fallen asleep already or not. When he made hardly any movements after fifteen minutes, the woman decided that he was sleeping. Was it considered paranoia if the warrior waited until her companion was asleep before she went to sleep so that she was fairly certain he wouldn't try anything? Or careful thinking? Nasrin wasn't sure. But, whether paranoia or careful thinking, it seemed like a good idea to her.
So, slowly, the woman stretched out on the ground, spear and dagger laying next to her hands, and let her eyes close, slipping into sleep.
It had been perhaps two or three hours when the sound of sniffings and scratching woke her up. The woman carefully opened her eyes, squinting, and peered outside of the cave. It was difficult to see because of a fog that had rolled in. A strange dog-looking creature stood there, edging closer to the cave mouth. The fog seemed to follow it, rolling around the dog's thin black and red body. Its head seemed to be nothing but a skull, and a long red tongue flicked out of its mouth. Nasrin had never seen such a creature before.
Slowly, her hand stretched toward her spear. It was too close to her camp, and so now it would die.
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Post by Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar on Jul 13, 2010 21:21:50 GMT -8
It was the temperature change that first woke Gabriel. Tendrils of fog crept over the ground, lapped gently at his moonstone skin, cold against his high body temperature. He should never even register cold under normal circumstances - his own heat was too great. The fog couldn't be a natural kind if it was not banished by the warmth of the cave. His eyes flickered open and the Daemon was instantly alert.
Speed was not the answer here though. Gabriel rolled slowly, glancing briefly at the now armed Nasrin, before finding the haunting silhouette of a Dream Hound in the fog. He'd been right then - Dream Hounds created a thick fog around themselves when hunting to obscure themselves.
Gabriel was familiar with the creatures. They came originally from Dream Land as he did himself; tamed individuals were sometimes given as gifts to high ranking Daemons. This one was, unusually, alone and presumably was hunting. The smell of cooked meat would have drawn him here, away from his home in the Marshes - perhaps it was an outcast. Excess males were sometimes driven from their packs.
"In a moment I will give a signal. Jump up and make a lot of noise; we might scare it away. If not be prepared for it to attack." Gabriel's voice was little more than a whisper, as lilting and velvet as possible in the hopes of calming the hound. Nonetheless it snarled, shifting it's weight. As a precaution Gabriel allowed his claws and fangs to lengthen fully - something he had hoped to avoid doing infront of company. Though the undercurrent of predatory danger could be detected anytime someone was around the Daemon, it was normally soon lost under the more striking impression of Daemon beauty and bardic charm. However when he extended his claws into wicked, knife-like lengths and fangs snaked warningly over his chin, it hit one like a smack in the face. This Daemon was lethal.
"Now," Gabriel said calmly, leaping to his feet in a movement too swift to follow with the human eye. An animalistic snarl accompanied the action, echoing sharply and threateningly through the forest, in the hoped of frightening the creature off.[/font]
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