The Quicksand And The Almost Dead

The Quicksand And The Almost Dead
Date of Scene:	10 December 2012
Location:	Golmore Jungle
Synopsis:	Gidarch Valos is besieged by the sounds of the natural world, while in a jungle, and topples into a quagmire. Without the aid of his metallic armor with which to magnetize, he must rely on Morrighan Alazne's benevolent nature to emancipate him from his otherwise dire destiny.
Cast of Characters:	Morrighan Alazne, Count Valos

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Count Valos has posed:
Still unfamiliar with the World of Ruin is Gidarch Valos, and as such, he's managed to get himself lost while trying to find the holy city of Mullonde. It could be that the slang used by the person he asked directions from was misinterpreted by the nobleman, or it could be that he simply didn't follow them properly, but the unchanged fact remains- he is not where he's supposed to be, and will need to correct his vector in order to get to his destination. Having left his armor at the nearest inn, he assumed that he wouldn't need it for the time being, even though it granted him flight when he put his mind to the task of magnetizing the silver of the mail; that required more mental energy than he wanted to exert on this day, being that he already spent some of his cognitive stamina on trying to make sense of the words of the 'holy' book that Faruja Senra gave to him.

The Count had his doubts that the Burmecian's headquarters would be much more promising as far as enlightening him, even though they might be able to shed light on the meaning behind some of the teachings in the 'bible' that Faruja foisted on Gidarch. Ever the man on a quest of knowledge, he wasn't one to refuse the offer, but sometimes his eagerness to expand his mind resulted in a shrinkage of his time's justified usage, just as it was hardly worthwhile for him to be perusing the various plants in this wood. To be more precise, he was in a boggy area, where there was an accumulation of mud, and while the tall drow could discern where there was a higher composition of liquid to sediment, some of the trickling exuding from the stream was soft and harmonic, almost musical, throwing off his alignment to a degree, and making it difficult for Count Valos to focus properly; music was a weakness of his, after all.

Quite by mistake, the dark elf treaded upon a patch of sludge that was not dense enough to support him, and in he went as he stepped forth. The loud sound of splashing rings out as something akin to having a boulder's weight has just fallen into the mud..... the man of the hour.... Count Valos, is now sinking in quicksand, as he grimaces, not sure if he's more taken aback by the melodic sounds of the forest and its singsong voices(see the desc!) compounded with flowing waters, or the fact that he's going to have to do some quick thinking that's fast enough to get him out of the quicksand, before it swallows him up!

Sighing, the seven foot drow peers towards the side of him, and vocalizes his thoughts, "Okay.... there is an adequately formed ledge there.... and I am here, so in an ideal world, I would solidify the matter beneath me.... and then I should have enough buoyancy to reach....." The question is, will he have adequate time to do so, in a world that is not necessarily ideal?

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Also passing through the Golmore Jungle at this time, and looking less lost for her efforts, was one Morrighan Alazne. Dressed in her usual white getup which left little to the imagination, she softly padded through the dirt path, eventually coming upon a more boggy area where the mud buildup was more apparent.

Already having an adversity to this place, the dark elf made so to be extra careful to not make too much contact with the mud. Her efforts paid off in the long run as she managed to avoid making the pitfall of stepping into quicksand. THAT would have been a problem. And one she did not need so soon after dealing with the things she had to face in Manhattan.

"...Hm?" The white mage slowed down in her walk as she began to pass by a ledge. She was going to keep on her way, but she had spotted something strange. A pause and then a second look revealed that someone was...sinking into the mud. It was a sad sight really. "...My. And I thought there would be no one brainless enough to fall for that. How pathetic." The young woman intoned with an air of sarcasm.

And so she stared, crossing her arms idly as she decided what to do. "......" No, it seemed like she was not going to immediately throw herself into doing a good deed just like that.

Perhaps she was awaiting some sort of statement or call for help from the man before her. Well, if the smirk on her face was any real indication anyway.

Count Valos has posed:
Gidarch heard her long before he saw her, and he also heard that comment about his being brainless; squinting up at the dark elf above him, he coughed, "It is easy to be brainless in a mire that confuses one's senses with this deplorable cacophony; I can not imagine how anyone tolerates such a place." Judging from his remark, he's none too pleased about the noise being made that most beings would find tranquil and alleviating- and not being from the same specific subdivision of dark elves as the nobleman, there's little reason to wonder why it's entirely plausible for Morrighan to possess her wits in spite of the fact that Count Valos has failed to do so.

He didn't necessarily take the opportunity to belittle her in response to her own mockery of his predicament, but neither did Gidarch easily concede that he had behaved in an obtuse manner. Gazing up at the other drow from below, Valos remarked, "Are you one who has a preference towards greater finances, or would this be an unfair assumption to make? I have some coins that could easily find their way into your possession, if you could assist in a vine finding its way to mine." Not one to ask for favors without some sort of compensation, Count Valos was not so selfish as to ask her for 'help' without reimbursement, but groveling in the mud was not his preferred method of seeking aid from others; it would be discourteous to impose like that!.... and if there's one thing that the taller drow strives to be, yet still fails at times, is gentlemanly.

The Count didn't expect Morrighan to automatically help him, not that he knows her personally- but from his own experiences with those of the dark elven race, they are not altruists; he himself can not make claim to this classification, either, sometimes to the dismay of people who have to endure him, for his quips are occasionally humbling in nature, and most people like their egos to be stroked softly, instead of with such abrasiveness that it causes damage.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Judging by her appearance and different shade of skin, the Count would have made a correct assumption in thinking that Morrighan was not from the same subdivision of Dark Elves as he was. The noise did not bother her on any primal level. ...It was just somewhat annoying to hear for an extended period of time. But it was not a herculean task to keep her wits about her at the end of it all. "Is that so? Hmph, well I can think of other reasons to abhor this place beyond just the noise."

No further elaboration was given on the subject of the scenery and it's unpleasant nature however as Morrighan narrowed her eyes, staring down at the drow before her. "Finances? ...I have little need of additional 'finances' now." The healer responded, shaking her head, which caused her rather long hair to sway about as well. But still, the fact that he did come out and ask caused her smirk to widen. "...Rather than monetary compensation..." The dark elf began raising a hand and magically manipulating a nearby vine to float into his reach. "Let us just say that you...owe me. What exactly? ...That is up to my discretion when the time is right~"

Count Valos has posed:
Rubbing his forehead, trying fruitlessly to dispel the headache being experienced due to all the vibrance of sounds in the forest, finding concentration to be nothing at all of a trivial task. His eyes have a blood-shot appearance, as if to say that he's experiencing more pain than he's letting on by far; fortunately for Morrighan, his tolerance for agony is so astonishing that she doesn't have to listen to him wailing even as he's mentally reeling. "There are plenty of reasons to find distaste in a lot that has relevance to this place, but I am afraid discussing the illegitimacy of this quaint little wood is not a justified utilization of my time.... perhaps I can accommodate you another time...."

At least they both agree on something; this place isn't pleasant.

Not finding agreement are they in a suitable arrangement, initially, all attributed to the fact that she doesn't have much concern over currency. Narrowing his eyes in annoyance when she suggests that he owes her a favor, he immediately feels a pang of resentment within himself; being beholden to others was something that he didn't consent to lightly. Nonetheless, he decides to accept her terms, and grabs the vine, pulling himself towards the ledge. If she is observant, she might notice that the vine is going through a lot more turmoil than one would expect, even for a seven foot tall elf, as though he were far heavier than his physical appearance was letting on; further straining, the vines themselves would not be sufficient to help him out of the deathtrap, so simultaneous to pulling himself via Morrighan's generously donated vines, he's still using his powers over terran matter to fortify the soil and hydration mixture below him, to act as a springboard. "I can not say I have met too many people who have no need for cash; to me, that implies you live a non-materialistic lifestyle, or you are independently wealthy."

From her appearance, Valos is betting on the latter, but his thoughts don't make it to the verbal manifestation stage of development; it's just a piece of information stored for later.... one with a grant of salt, making assumptions can be a dangerous thing. Regardless, the very faint upward tilt of one side of his mouth hints at the gargantuan drow's mind's inner workings doing plenty of churning- the question is, is Morrighan trained in the art of psychological awareness in a visual sense?.... If not, this sliver of a smile may escape her notice. "Hmmm.... Depending on what you ask of me, you may receive compliance, but there are limits to what my existence is worth to me, and some fates I consider worse than death, which would in turn surpass the value of the favor you have done me now, invalidating said request.", Gidarch states in his ever-deadpan voice, demonstrating that he's only willing to be a patsy to certain degrees.

Prompted by his leaving the slime, he raises his arms upwards and outwards, creating an image of an imposing statured man- but it is not to intimidate, for instead, he focuses, and the mud begins to eject itself from his body. His power over earth is enough to remove the mud from his frame without physically 'dusting' himself off, but the liquid aspect remains intact, and his clothing is damp still. "Well then.... It appears that you might have done me a worthwhile service... Perhaps this amalgam of worlds has some perks..... or more specifically, its inhabitants."

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Watching the man pull himself up and out of nature's deathtrap, Morrighan stepped back from the ledge to allow him space to take up. All the while, her eyes remained observant, and once the fellow elf was standing on solid ground again, she had to look up...up...up, in order to look into his face.

"My, you are a rather tall one, aren't you?" The dark elf asked mostly rhetorically, looking somewhat awed in the process. But it did not last too long before her usual smirk returned to her face. Not commenting on his use of magic nor her personal situation, Morrighan simply filed the information away silently before addessing his concerns regarding their 'deal' "...I suppose that is fair enough. I have little intention of turning you into a slave now." The white mage spoke nonchalantly, waving a ahnd dismissively afterward. His slight change in expression did not escape her notice. ...But then, it was not like she had an idea of what exactly it meant, so it was let go.

"Should I be flattered that you would think such a thing?" Morrighan asked, brows turning upwards in amusement as she recalled past encounters. "I can think of more than a handful people who would love nothing more than to have my head now."

Count Valos has posed:
Having freed himself from the jaws of what could've potentially been his demise, he was indeed grateful to Morrighan, but ashamed over the fact that he cared enough about his life to desire having it saved; there was still much room more more apathy in his heart(and body) of stone to be acquired. His strikingly tall figure is something that was notable, but compared to Ronso and Bangaa, it wasn't anything special, since those races leaned towards the gargantuan; though, by incidence, it might be noted that they were bruisers in most cases.... great in girth and strength, but not always in cognition. The Count had caliber of both, but had a deeper appreciation for those with intellect, so even being just a height of five feet five inches, and whatever she weighed, Valos didn't seem to be disappointed by having encountered this entity whose name he'd yet to be given; of course, he probably knew her weight, since she was standing upon rock, and he held mastery over vibrations of gaean matter- but to denote his ability to detect such things would've been digression.

"Whether I am tall or not is a subjective matter, entirely.... but it would be reasonable to assess my stature as being greater than the average of most sentient humanoids." As far as he knows, anyway.... for he isn't an adventurer extraordinaire, and there could very well be a race of giants numbering in the millions somewhere; after inwardly realizing this, he grunts, with one eye squinting over the fact that he made a hypothetically inaccurate statement- proving for certain that he has an obsession over proper protocol, so he appends quickly, ".....by the standards of my own experiences...." After correcting himself, his face resumes its usual vacant lifelessness, and he scans her up and down, head nodding to get a glimpse of her entirety, now that he's not enthralled with the task of cleaning himself off or eluding the reaper. His pupils dilate slightly as he takes in her form, for the she-elf is indeed an attractive individual, but he has enough control over his emotions that they shrink back to their normal size almost instantly. No.... he doesn't find humans attractive, but she falls in line with his general racial origin, so having certain sensations well up within him is instinctual, and something he has to manually override.

Again.... if she's observant, she might be questioning why the instantaneous flicker of pupils when the lighting in the environment is not that lacking, but unless she's a mind reader, or pretentious, she might not automatically assume he was experiencing attraction.... though, she may indeed be pompous. Nevertheless, he shrugs a little, "What you should think is not in my realm of judgment. I do not dictate what is ethically viable, as far as what beliefs one harbors, I only concern myself with actions combined with intentions." He nods his head, and holds out his hand in a mechanical manner; clearly physical gestures are something artificial for him, perhaps a cultural thing he's trying to incorporate into his communication style as of recent, "If they want your head, then they obviously are not hungry. Your entire body is composed of edible flesh and for those so inclined, marrow within your bones.... This tells me that you are implying that conventional group-think has pegged you as notorious, or threatening; shall I assume that I should be wary of you? Or are you telling me this as an act of charity, in that you wish for me to be aware that by allying myself with you, that I could be doing the opposite to ingratiate myself to the populace at large....?"

Definitely mechanical.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"...Are you quite alright up there?" Morrighan asked smirking in what could only be amusement, tilting her head slightly as she stared up at the Count. A brow was raised in curiosity after. Whether or not he was not the tallest thing ever mattered little to her. Anything that towered over her would have to hear about it.

But the way he stared at that moment gave her cause for minor suspicion. Not that she was worried about anything. He WAS indebted to her. To a minor degree anyway. Regardless, better to be safe than sorry. And so two steps were taken back to further the space between them just a tad.

Listening to his veritable wall of words however, the dark elf could not help but frown a little in barely contained confusion. No, it was not the words themself that confounded her, rather, it was the fact that he was even saying them. Did this man have no concept of social norm?

...But then, social norm was different for all races.

Oh well.

"Whether or not I wish you to be wary of me, or for you to ally with me, is neither here nor there. Take from it what you will~" A shrug of the shoulders and then Morrighan swiftly moved on into a new subject. "So then, if I may be so bold as to ask; may I have the name of the man I just saved?" Amusement returning to her features, the white mage smiled before adding. "Unless the fact that I am asking this sparks some sort of offense with you now~?"

Count Valos has posed:
Valos nodded to Morrighan when she asked about the state of his welfare, affirming that he was again, okay. It was a simple enough query that he didn't need to reply with but more than a physical gesture, not being one to waste words; of course, having to move or make speech at all over trivial questions was a hassle, for the taller drow.... conversation was not his specialty. The Count seems unaffected when she moves back a pace or so, showing neither approval or rejection over the matter, as he silently tried not to let on that he felt anything at all. He saw her frown, but didn't respond at all, showing no desire to seek to console her or otherwise, but when she speaks of whether she wants him to be wary or not, he resorts, "Hmmm... Since I have not enough information axial to your system of belief, I shall derive nothing from your statement" She /did/ say it was neither here nor there, anyway, so what use was it to postulate over the meaning? "If asking a mere question is a source of anger for the one whom has been asked, then the one asked surely has a measly power of government over their own faculties; only through combination of inquisition plus insistence should one maintain the right to be offended.... you have not effectuated such pressure."

His hand, still held out in an offering pose, bends inward at the elbow as he aims his fingers towards himself, giving punctuation to his words, "I am known as Count Gidarch Valos. If I am to be acknowledged, or addressed, I would prefer either Count Valos, Lord Valos, or Mister Valos." Following this, he flips his wrist forward, elbow still bent inward, as if offering something to her, "....What is the preference of the lady, as far as how she wishes to be designated, so that I may implement proper procedure when seeking her attention?" While Gidarch doesn't usually bother caring enough to ask others' names, as was in Katyna's case, he had two reasons for asking Morrighan...

....The first being that as a man who is beholden to her service, he needed a name to assign to the one whom he owed a debt, so that he could ask for clarification if she ever were to give an order he didn't understand. The second, he had a personal interest in her on an unconscious level, and had he not required her name for professional purposes, it's entirely possible he'd have slipped and asked anyway, after being asked in turn.... but seeing he had a justified reason, he doesn't have cause to feel ashamed for making the request of a divulgence of a name from the dark elven female.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Oh? I haven't? What a shame." She replied, resting a hand against her own cheek as a playful smile crossed her face. "Perhaps I should work harder then~" A faint giggle followed that statement as Morrighan then brought her hand to her mouth to cover it in a token attempt at muffling the laughter.

To little avail of course.

At least she seemed to be having fun with this situation. Whether or not it was at his expense though, remained to be seen. Her mirth settled down after a bit once the man before her started to introduce himself as she had asked before. Her crimson eyes twinkled with interested as she listened, nodding afterward. "Aha~ Count? My, you must be someone quite important then, are you not?"

Deeming the man, Count Valos, as a non-threat at this juncture, Morrighan decided to lower her guard. Stepping forward to close the distance she had made earlier, she placed her own hand in his, a sign of courtesy, as she began to reply in turn. "I am Morrighan Lachesis Alazne. You may call me Lady Alazne~" Another amused smile was given as the dark elven woman spoke.

"Now then, with your life no longer in mortal peril, where will you be headed now?" She asked, tilting her slightly in curiosity. "Were you perhaps headed to Luca? Or maybe Deling City? ...Or was it Castle Argus?"

Count Valos has posed:
Steadfast in his neutrality, Count Valos maintained an air of professionalism rarely seen even for the most highly trained individuals, and coming from a loudmouthed race such as the dark elves, whose booming voices and odd dialects would strike any humanoid as abnormal.... this is quite an achievement. Her quip and cute, mischievous mannerism cause Valos to raise a brow, uncertain if she's being serious or if this is some kind of game- to him, she's just as much as a mystery as he must be to her; though Morrighan probably had quite a lot about her that was enigmatic... a dark elf dressed in white-mage's garb? The broke from practically every convention the nobleman knew of; from his world, nary a drow practiced in white magics of healing, at least from his own clan.... anything restorative usually derived from 'drain' magics, or elixirs concocted from unholy priests.

Upon her supposition that Gidarch is an important man, he shrugs, "Important.... depends upon who you were to ask. I have enough funds to support myself, but I no longer voluntarily employ servants to carry out my tasks for me- I see that as irresponsible on my part. I only delegate when there are intricate problems that call for coordinated efforts, and in earnest, rarely do I partake in activities that require..... cooperation." This could definitely imply, given his odd demeanor, that he's more solitary than most, if one were good at drawing conclusions, but that wasn't something he that he felt was pertinent enough to willfully relinquish, unless questions were posed to him. When she reached forward and took his hand into her's, Valos' eye twitched a little- unaccustomed to physical contact.... but more revealing was his face, the tone of which transformed to something more of a flush, insinuating that something about Morrighan was affecting him. Shaking ever so subtly, he tried to regain composure, and the redness of his face faded a bit, but not completely- but on her end, she might notice that his hand is a bit 'tougher' than the texture felt of normal skin, as though it were composed of a stronger material, "I....I... shall call you Lady Alazne, then...." he stutters slightly, at first, as he tries to refocus his mind.

Finally, his posture stabilizes, indicating that he's back in control again, despite the radiance Morrighan possesses, and he nods to her out of respect, "I will make an effort to address you properly, in the future." Being asked where his destination is, he pivots his head around, indicating that he's not entirely well oriented, "I seek the city called Mullonde. A Burmecian passed along to me a book which has verses and rhymes that make little sense to my mind, and said that it is the holy book of St Ajora. Although I tend to revere scriptures of religious denominations as nonsense, for the most part, I saw fit to test the credibility of its content by seeking the source. He has assured me that I will find worthwhile philosophy from the text, therefore, I am going to see how much weight his words hold..... I have my doubts....."

As a skeptic, doubtfulness was second nature to the tall drow, but that didn't mean he was totally beyond being capable of extending a little trust, and since Morrighan just saved him, he sees fit to /try/ and engage her as a person, not just a person to whom he's indebted in a business-related matter, by asking a personal question of her, "Would it be reasonable for me to ask you what you are doing in such a repugnant place as this one?" Valos makes sure to stress his distaste for the forest, still dealing with a mild headache as he converses with the she-elf.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Count Valos' change of demeanor, even if slightly, did not escape Morrighan's notice and her smiled widened a bit upon realizing it. But being merciful for once, she stayed her tongue, lest she embarrass him or something along similar lines. There would be time for such things at other times perhaps.

"Is that so...? Well, judging from what I have been told, you must be a rather...self sufficient man, hmm?" With a nod of understanding, her smile lessened back to a normal spread as she spoke again. "Indeed, I would appreciate that. You have my gratitude~" With that said, the elven woman listened to the man's tale and his supposed destination, raising a brow slightly as he went on. "Mullonde? ...Curious. I don't believe I have heard of this Mullonde..." Breaking their hand's contact at this point, Morrighan turned away, bringing a hand to her chin and rubbing lightly in thought.

"Hmn...curious indeed. But alas..." A shrug was given then and the healer shook her head. "Well, regardless of what this book may say, I do not believe that you will find an end to your journey as it is now...Unless of course, this city does exist. But I have not seen it on any map thus far."

Putting her arms behind her at that point, she took a couple tentative steps away, staring upwards in thought at the Count's question. "Hmn, indeed, what AM I doing here?" Another playful smile was given as she glanced back at the drow, speaking again afterwards in a less vague answer. "I am currently looking for some place to apply myself to. I have no allegiance with my current kingdom any longer. Thus, I travel to find that which I may find purpose with anew. My destination is...wherever the wind blows me for now~"

Count Valos has posed:
The Count saw Morrighan's smile widened, and wonder what thoughts were going through her mind- did his expression not elude her notice? He was indeed worried that she might have thoughts on the matter, but when she abstains from making a remark, his guilty conscience is pacified, in believing that mayhap she merely had a passing thought that gave her delight, and had nothing to do with his self-deemed inappropriate display. Either she didn't catch on, didn't see at all, or was simply too considerate to make transparent his 'visual outburst'.

Whatever the case.... Valos was off the hook for now, at least until she asks another question, which would be rude to simply ignore, besides the fact that honestly.... he's enjoying her company, though he'd never confess such a thing, not for the life of him, "I attempt to be self sufficient. That would obviously depend on one's objectives, but for now, seeing that my goal is to simply exist, I feel that I am doing a good job at achieving said pursuit... and without much external aid." At the admission of his being pragmatic in his strides, yet another faint sign of emotional sensation manifests itself upon his lips, a meek trace of smugness plays on his features, demonstrating that he prides himself on being independent; indisputably, this is what caused him disconcertment when the she-elf demanded a 'favor' from him at a future juncture. Diminishing quickly is this confidence, once he hears that no such place as Mullonde exists, to her knowledge.... did Faruja deceive him? But what would be the purpose of that?

A flat-lipped, empty expression adorns his countenance as Valos questions Morrighan, "It would be a shame for me to have come all this way to discover my labors were utterly futile, if not in fact counter-productive." For not only did he spend time and energy getting to the swamp, but now he /owes/ someone something, as a consequence of this endless journey; no, as beautiful as the dark elven lass is, in Gidarch's view, having made her acquaintance did not justify all that he had invested. "I.... imagine I could write this off as an educational experience.... somehow...." He states, almost to himself in a tone insinuating he feels much regret over whatever is apparently bothering him. This adds to his headache, and his left eye twitches, while he tries to deal with the sounds of the great realm of greenery that he now occupies. "Hmmm... If you have no intended heading at current, then what drives you to your fate beyond random impulse? You yourself declared that you felt an aversion, and rightly so, to this place; something must have been moderately compelling to have convinced you to enter into this hellish cesspool, beyond merely being overtaken by a mere whim....."

He raises a brow, curious. Maybe there was something about this place that she'd sensed, which flew over his radar, or by happenstance he's over-estimating her propensity towards logical decision-making..... maybe she is ultimately guided by spontaneous cravings?

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Resting her hands on her hips, Morrighan proceeded to walk off, figuring that Count Valos would follow along anyhow. "Well, As I say, I personally have no heard of Mullonde. That is not to say that it does not exist, yes?" She glanced back at him then, smiling wryly. "Alas, with this whole mess of worlds mashed together, I imagine there will no doubt be many a town and city that I have no prior knowledge of."

A shrug was given then before the elven woman's hands returned to her hips. "As for me...The reason I happen to be in this infernal jungle is simple..." Her crimson eyes twinkling in amusement, Morrighan wagged a finger playfully as she spoke. "There are cities and similar establishments on the other side~"

And with that said, she turned her gaze back ahead as she walked along the beaten path, her arms held behind herself now. "It is rather unpleasant, but alas, it must be done, no?" Indeed, though if the healer were to ever have her way, she would never have set foot in this dispicable place to begin with.

Without being able to call Baron Castle home any longer, it was much harder to attain basic needs. Being on the road constantly had that effect. She wondered how all of those adventurers and travelers managed to deal with this sort of thing...

Count Valos has posed:
Being unaccustomed to the ways of others, Gidarch stood completely still as Morrighan started to wander off- it wasn't until she continued to speak to him that he realized she assumed he was going to, or was supposed to follow. Customs being what they are, and being that he was indebted to the feminine drow, he quickly matched pace, staying a step or so behind as a subordinate might; she's the one spearheading their expedition, so he'll let her lead the charge and choose their destination. For now, he's at a loss as far as what to do, because at this point he's not altogether certain whether Mullonde even exists, but when she claims that she doesn't know of it herself, the taller drow's mind comes back to life.

"I suppose that I shall proceed with my quest in the hopes that I have not been played the fool, by one who I consider a fool." Yes, he just belittled Faruja, but it wasn't like Morrighan was going to go gossiping about Valos by repeating his words, was she? Furthermore, maybe the gargantuan dark elf didn't care that much if Faruja found out that someone was badmouthing him- either way, it is evident that Gidarch trusts Morrighan enough to start speaking person opinions in her presence, a privilege reserved for very few. Call it a racial courtesy, from one dark elf to another, Valos is giving her more credit than she is probably actually due, for what little she's done. When she faces forward with arms in back of her, Valos gets the distinct impression that this one maintains quite a bit of pride and confidence, to strut forward with the upright posture she had, it was almost as though she were emulating the manner in which royalty strolled about.

The Count, on the other hand, despite being of noble birth, keeps his gaze tilted slightly downward, and arms at his sides like a commoner might do, with no real conceitedness in his bodily mannerisms. Not designed to cause her ego to become more inflated, if it already is, but simply to unearth the truth of Morrighan's pedigree, Valos inquires, "You must have had some standing from whence you came, for you to carry yourself the way you do.... with superior dignity to someone who is of lowly rank."

Not that he cares if it turns out she wasn't privileged, she was still a drow, which automatically made her more worthy than others. "You would not happen to know the technological state of these cities, would you? They might be able to use someone with my aptitude, if they are versed in the ways of machines. Manipulation of space, time, energy, magnetism.... these things all have potential application in the world of the technical, and as an adamant supporter of these disciplines, they would be imbecilic to turn down my services, provided they don't contradict the contract that you and I currently have, if you elect to redeem your 'favor' upon reaching such a place....", he trails off, wagering that Morrighan will be prompt to admit whether she thinks she'll need him or not, so that he can start formulating plans of his own without worry over hampering obligations.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
His words elicited a faint giggle from the mage as she listened. "Fools, huh? I imagine you must have ran into quite a number of fools in your travels now, hm~?" She herself had of course. She could tell plenty of tales regarding all of the nonsense she's had to face now. But rather than that, she just shrugged and let the subject pass. Speaking in passing was fine, but going into detail was not something she would do just yet.

Upon being asked about her standing, Morrighan glanced back at the Count again, arching a brow curiously. "Me? Hmm..." Falling silent, she began to slow down her walking pace, winding up walking beside him now as she stared upwards through the trees. "...I actually have no knowledge of that. I was raised among Light Elves through my childhood." Speaking honestly, the elven woman shrugged, crossing her arms after. "But either way, I matters little." She shook her head then and chuckled to herself, finding amusement in the matter somewhere.

As for the cities ahead...Deling City lies to the northeast, which is where I happen to be headed for now. From what I hear, the technological level is rather high. Surely your skills will be easily put to use in a place like that. I deal in Time Magicks myself...perhaps I can find something to do there as well~?"

Count Valos has posed:
"The criteria for fool makes many an individual qualified to be ascribed said status, so I would say that I have stumbled across at least a handful. My faith in Mister Senra is dwindling as I read more and more of the book he imparted to me. Some of the lessons in this book promote forgiveness strongly, but when one forgives, the wrongdoer does not evolve, because they receive grace in place of suffering, which stimulates change." It must be clear by this time that Count Valos doesn't believe heavily in absolution, and is a 'crime and punishment' kind of guy.... very lawful, and not very humanitarian. But what would one expect from a harsh race that preyed on the weak- for a drow, Count Valos was saintly; despite not being a healer like Morrighan, she was probably more malevolent than himself.

"I would have assumed you had attended some kind of refinement classes, where you had been taught the finesse to which you could justly lay claim, if you so desired. You behave in a more refined manner than uncultured persons; your company is a breath of fresh air for me,.... for the most part.", and again.... despite the fact that he kept his arms easily accessible at his sides, unlike the she-elf who had self-assuredly kept them behind her a couple times, unafraid to be less protective of herself as a member of the elite might do, Valos was no less the nobleman! Yet.... beyond his manner of speech, he didn't walk the walk like she seemed to be able perform with excellence- Gidarch only talked the talk.

Now, Morrighan had her arms crossed over her chest, but probably because she was just dismissing, and trivializing the notion of whether or not she was highborn; her gesture accentuated her lack of concern over the whole affair. She was much more 'alive' than the 'wooden' drow known as Valos, whose movements and speech bordered on robotic, showing a deeper appreciation for the nuances of humanoid communication. To the story of her origins, he chimes in, "Light elves.... Hmm. I have some acquaintances of that race, one in particular who is...." he pauses, and cuts himself off- he needn't go into the details of his personal life. In all likelihood, even from what little he said, Morrighan might be able to piece together some clues, given the context, and guess what Gidarch was about to say, but why speak up and remove all doubt?

"You are versed in Chronomancy? Impressive. I should expect no less from someone of my ilk, nevertheless....", he notes offhand, once more finding Morrighan to be more refreshing than the others he'd met in the macrocosm in which he'd been drawn by the darkness, "I am sure someone as sophisticated as yourself will be able to not only find something to do, but that which isn't suited to one who would qualify as shabby. Piddling, menial chores are best undertaken by lackeys.... do not settle for anything second rate, my good Lady Alazne..." Not a command, but a suggestion, given his tone, even if the wording /sounds/ like it could've been an order.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Quite frankly, Valos' rather wooden demeanor entertained the elven woman more than anything else. Sure, in a way, it WAS utterly boring. But to anything with a deeper attention to detail, the little reactions he gave off in spite of that made up for it. They proved that he was not quite who he seemed on the surface. Or at least they did to her.

His mention of knowing light elves was met with a raised brow, listening carefully. At least until he decided to cut himself off prematurely. How curious. So there was something this man did not want her to know? Ah, but then, everyone had things that they did not want to share with others. It was only natural, yes?

A shrug of the shoulders and a faint chuckle was all he got for that. And then the subject was changed.

"Yes, Chronomancy, Holy and Sealing Magicks, as well as Healing Arts~" Morrighan replied in confirmation to Valos' initial inquiry. "I have been told that such fields of study are unusual for those of my...'clan'. But I personally have never met any others." Seeing that the path head was clear of any obstables for a good distance, the white mage turned around, walking backwards and facing her companion to talk. "All I have ever had to go on was the word of light elves. So I suppose my perceptions may be a bit inaccurate."

She brought a hand over her mouth then as a faint giggle escaped from her. "Oh my, flattery will get you everywhere~" She spoke lightly, nodding in agreement to his statement regarding the finding of work. Alas, even then she was not quite sure what would await her at Deling. Something told her that she would not stay long. Turning around then, the dark elf faced the path ahead again, noting that they were nearing the jungle's endpoint. "I suppose you would do well to do the same then, yes? And try not to lose yourself to the idiocy of others. Patience is a scarce commodity these days~"

Count Valos has posed:
His fractured motions when socializing proved that he was not at ease when talking, to say the least, but there was nothing about what he said that implied dishonesty, such as evasion of eye-contact, or twiddling of his smaller digital appendages. The Count was still deeply appreciative towards Morrighan, and not that he was the lying type.... but if he were, he may have shown her a little extra consideration and been mostly earnest if the opposite of the reality was the case. When she raised a brow as he spoke of light elves, it made him wonder if she trusted them or not; even in his world, usually dark and light were at odds, and yet he managed to transcend his initial programming, becoming something more tolerant and desiring of objectivity, than those who sought conquest over things within the material world. Back to more important subjects, she re-railed the conversation towards magic of time and divination, "Time Magic was not uncommon for drows in my realm.... they had a fondness in their hearts for rational disciplines, and comprehension of the principles of the universe's composition is just that. On the other hand.... compassion was lacking, so whether or not I can prove to you that your outlook may be the more feasible one, if you are willing to trust my word, then I can assure you of your uniqueness. Now, whether this is to be accredited to you because of a will all your own, and based on actions of your own choosing.... or if you were pressured to delve into the arts of mending, is something I can not establish without more information...."

He nods his head, as if to make another point, so that she doesn't jump the gun before he can elaborate, ".....Of course, while information pertaining to the development of your skills in the sacred field of regeneration is entirely your business, I will welcome, but not oblige you to share it, if you have no inclination to do so." When she indicates that they are approximating the jungle's end, he clicks his tongue a couple times, inwardly evaluating data he receives from the refracted sound-waves, as Gidarch stares in the direction that Morrighan indicates is their endpoint. "Patience is what separates the civilized from the savage; the more one can delay their need for gratification for a more elaborate purpose, the more grand that scheme may be. Those who are quick to act are those who are slow to think." A softness comes over his face that appears more sentimental than before, by a smidgen; the lack of a headache has brought with it a more relaxed attitude in the dark monk.

"One question.... before we part ways.... as forward as it is for me to request from you that which may be confidential information; and I will not repeat if you relinquish said knowledge.... But what is it that you seek in this life?" Gidarch looks at her intently, but still /almost/ soulful gaze, when inquiring, as though he's serious about his promise, if she accommodates.....

It should be obvious to her by now, though, that he won't throw a fit if she denies him the aforementioned information, and may not think any less of her, regardless of her decision.....

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
"Hmn? You would wish to partake in my knowledge? ...Ahahahaha!" Moments after asking, Morrighan is beset with a fit of laughter. "Oh my? Really? ...Well, I certainly have no qualms about sharing such things, but I can assure you that it more take a while. More time than we have available to us at the moment in any case." She spoke in a somewhat cheerful manner, playfully wagging a finger as if admonishing the taller man.

With that dreadful jungle behind them now, the elven woman saw fit to slow down her walk to a more casual pace, setting her arms behind herself again as she stared up at the sky. "Oh? A question?" She asked, glancing back at Gidarch curiously and slowing down to a stop as well. The healer turned to face him, staring upwards as she listened to his question.

Once the question came. Morrighan's usual flighty, almost mocking demeanor seemed to diminish and she fell silent, crimson eyes remaining locked with the Count's own. "...What do I seek in life? ...That is..." With her arms crossing, the dark elf turned away, looking off in the distance as she considered how to answer. "...I seek a lot of things. Comfort, knowledge, companionship...But I suppose that the most important thing that I could say that I seek would be...purpose." She glanced back at him then, smiling faintly. She had no idea why she was trusting him with this information even. Perhaps because they were of similar race? She couldn't say. "...I was born not knowing who I am and what I am supposed to do. I endeavor to find out for myself just what it is I must do."

Count Valos has posed:
The Count follows Morrighan until she comes to a halt, at which point he does too- anticipating that she'd stop, on account of the fact that her stride became gradually more dilatory as they reached the place where they would disband. "Your life's story would be worth listening to, I think.... but the practicing of holy magic holds no interest in my eyes, I merely speculate as to how you came upon it." He blinks, confusedly when she offers a facetious scolding- which causes his lower lip to tremble ever so slightly, as if he is worried that he's genuinely invoked her wrath; again, this man is not the master of understanding emotional impulses in others, so at times, sarcasm escapes him.

But quickly his worries dissolve as she became silent, evidently taking him up on his offer, and sincerely providing him with enough reverence to grant his request. "Perhaps what you must do is what you are doing now. Up until the moment we die, we always wonder what our future holds and what we will achieve, regardless of how much has already transpired in our past. I would venture to say that who you are is ever in the process of being constructed, and change will never cease until you do- thus, worrying who you are, is based on the assumption that your identity is a concrete entity.... not a fluid one."

He shrugs, only entertaining the thought, instead of expecting her to automatically agree with her right then and there, at which point he waves his hand, without consciously putting effort forth- the first sign of a physical gesture that was completely natural, and in line with his sentiments, "Your destination.... may not be who you are. But I have faith you will reach your destination, whether you get there by moving in a straight line, or zig-zagging for the course of your entire journey...." With that, he bows a little, and starts down a different path, ever so slowly, giving Morrighan a chance to offer any final thoughts or ask last inquiries if she wants, before she's unable to do so, "With that, I bid you adieu, Lady Alazne.... unless you require further services of mine at this time?" He holds his hand out, palm open, 'offering' her a chance to accept his rendition, if she wished.... if not, he would certainly depart, and let her do the same.

But even though Morrighan put her heart on the line, to a degree, going out on a limb by speaking of her true desires, Valos did not take the opportunity to demean her dreams in any way; either he held her in high regards, or he was paying her back for not embarrassing him earlier, whereupon he flushed during the union of hands.

Morrighan Alazne has posed:
Morrighan listened, nodding along to his words and mulling over them in her own mind as they came. Keep doing what she was doing now? It was easy enough to do, sure. But actually finding meaningful results was a different matter entirely. She had been alive for a long time already. As to be expected of those of the their kin. It had given her more than enough time to walk the earth, watch kingdoms rise and fall, wars be fought, and all manner of other things...Yet even in the face of that, she herself did not change much at all.

Or rather, it would be more accurate to say that she did not find what she was ever looking for in that time passed. Regardless, it was not as if she would give up. She had no home. Thus, all she could do was continue walking forward.

And so she would.

A nod is given towards the parting man and she smiles slightly. "No, I believe that you are free to escape now." Waving a bit, Morrighan stayed where she was, watching him go. "I have little doubt that we may meet again. Life tends to be funny like that after all." And with that said, the dark elf turned and began to walk off on her own, giving one last parting statement. "Therefore, I will not be particularly worried about whether or not I will see you at a later date. Farewell now~"