Despite her continued wariness, Mazen could see that his reply had done something to ease the tension gripping her. As she responded, the fear that he'd heard from her before was slowly replaced by the emotions surrounding whatever past had led her to the small human village in which the pair now stood. He wondered just what had brought her here. She had been reasonably vague in answering his question, not divulging anything worth noting about her own path through the world the humans had created. Recalcitrance was a trait the dark elf could respect, and empathize with.
"I can smell it," he replied. "The spray of the ocean clings to your blood like the fetid swamps of the southlands do to mine, but perhaps you are not as traveled as I?" He smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. "Take my advice, don't let this place hold you long. Humans are a virus that will eat away at what you are until you no longer remember what that is. I have seen it among my people, who were erased from our lands," the mention of his people had thickened his voice with anger, and a startled look crossed his face at the realization that he may have said too much, but it faded away quickly.
Nodding to her, he turned and began to walk back the way he'd come.
With every lumbering step of the Herkurian, steam rose in clouds from the snow underfoot. The red-hot veins which normally ran throughout his rocky exterior were dimmed to feint lines by the biting wind, and he generally felt miserable. He wore no protection against the weather, because few materials would stand the heat of a Hekurian’s flesh. His only attire was a fire-blackened kilt made of the same heavy leather that blacksmith’s used for aprons, and a broad baldric of the same material holding some food alongside his massive half-axe, half hammer.
Reaching up to that belt, he grabbed an iron ingot and pulled it loose. He ate the metal in one mouthful, letting the heat of his fiery maw soften it before swallowing. As it hit his belly the veins that had begun to dim across his body flared up briefly, and the billowing stream of fire that was his hair brightened. It had been the third ingot he’d eaten since entering the Drangazi range, and that much food should have lasted him half the month.
Still, he had accepted the job and the word of a Herkurian, let alone a mercenary, was important. After several more minutes of leaving a watery trail up the mountain, the forest around him opened up into a clearing in which stood the unimposing structure that should be the Wizard’s Tower. By his count, the rest of his company had already arrived, which he had expected. He moved slow, and did not choose to change his pace for others.
He did not stop as he drew near the others, instead walking straight on towards the tower’s entrance, wanting to get his feet out of the snow as soon as possible. "This place is cold. I don't like cold."
I've been otherwise engaged since 9 a.m. this morning, and I don't have any privacy for voicing at the moment. I'll see about getting a post up later tonight or early tomorrow, if no one minds waiting for me. -_-
HISTORY— Maria is the daughter of Ordryn Galantine, one of the Councilors representing the Black Knights. Her father was very busy when she was a child, so she grew up mostly in the lenient care of her mother, a tavern keeper. She spent her teens waiting tables and fending off lascivious advances, but despite that, her father's importance and station drove Maria to try following in his footsteps, and after three years of trying she was finally bonded to a newborn Black Knight who matched her personality.
Training was slow-going for the pair, as they preferred sneaking off to lounge under the sun rather than mock battles, but they did make progress in coming to understand each other and work together. After ten years, few in their experience level would wish to be set against the cunning duo. As for duties on the island, Maria likes to make her own tasks, to which she is willing to work up a sweat completing. The cabin she lives in on Mount Dagna, while no mansion, is a testament to her willingness to work when the mood takes her. Unfortunately, the marshes beneath her cabin have been drying up, and that upsets Sitara, so Maria has decided she's willing to go on this expedition for help.
PERSONALITY— Maria is confident and self-assured, and considering her skills it's a surprise to those who don't know her that she isn't a more notable rider, but her insubordinate and relaxed attitude make her a poor candidate for advancement.
TALENTS/SKILLS—
Dirty Fighter: In battle, Maria isn't held back by ethics or chivalry. If it will help her win, she's probably willing to give it a try. It helps that she's good with a sword & dagger.
Acrobatic: Maria has a keen sense of her body's orientation, and can balance on shifting or precarious terrain and execute delicate feats of maneuverability.
Intuitive: Maria's hindered vision has left her with the keen ears necessary to detect things on her blind side.
Woodcraft: Maria is at home in the forest and swamp, where Black Knights make their home, capable of finding food and shelter unassisted or disappearing into the underbrush when being pursued.
FLAWS/WEAKNESSES—
Glass Eye: Her left eye is fake, and it throws off her depth perception and gives her a blind side.
Avaricious: She's at least equally interested in the financial potential of her mission as she is the civil.
Defiant: She prefers going her own way over being told what to do, and sometimes she doesn't know when she should hold back remarks.
EXTRAS—
Her most prized possession is the sword her father gave her after she was bonded with Sitara.
Her left eye was lost in a training related accident, and her brain nearly went with it, if it weren't for an Angelwing being present she'd have died then and there.
ArkmageddonCat
