View source for 1802/Necromantic

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/03/14
|Location=Naturia
|Synopsis=In which Ysuran needs an adult. Badly.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=640, 725
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{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:725|Ysuran (725)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ysuran was still sore from the earlier issue with the wolves. There in Winter, a town had come under attack by weird undead shadowy wolves. He'd helped to drive them away, but had also ended up taking a nasty bite on his leg for his troubles. Thankfully the infirmary at the Union base had treated him, and had let him go not too long ago.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He wasn't sure if he was supposed to do the report or not, but he assumed not, given his mere Provisional Ally status. So he went to somewhere he felt at ease. Naturia. He may have been a mage of death and negative energy, but he was still an elf. And he missed Evereska something fierce. Even if he didn't really remember it all that well.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thus he sits underneath one of the larger trees, his sore leg straight out before him, the other bent at the knee as he flipped pages in the large black tome he carried. A black, winged staff is leaned against the tree near him.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:640|Echo (640)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The scent of red rich blood is carried by the wind and to the noses of the creatures of the night. The leathern wings of just one such creature briefly silhouettes the moon, creating a shadow against it for just a moment. A strange fog seems to roll in over the grass as suddenly there is a shape... a figure seeming to darken the moon above as it materializes, bearing wings and what look like large conical ears. <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; However, the problem Ysuran faces is that this is not a usual denizen of the night. As most do not wear lace dresses and stiletto high heels. <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Echo seems to take her sweet time with a small compact and tube of lipstick, redoing the rouge over her lips before snapping the compact closed and smacking her lips, her yellow eyes toward the wounded elf, her eyes alighting on him. <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The next problem however is the sudden reaction from her, hands clasping together and her eyes suddenly going all. &lt;3_&lt;3 at him. Uh oh.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:725|Ysuran (725)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The first thing Ysuran notices is the chill. This shakes him out of his reverie, and he looks up. That's when he sees the fog. And frowns. Fog didn't roll in this quick, did it? And then he looks up. The sight of the winged figure is enough to startle Ysuran. He quickly closes his book and takes hold of the winged staff, leaning on it to get to his feet.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Suddenly Ysuran has a bat ... creature of some kind, from the looks of it, looking at him as if fascinated. He blinks. Frowns. But it does give him a chance to see exactly what seems to have found him. He stares for a moment longer than is probably polite, but soon realizes his manners.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Er ... may I help you with something my lady?" His voice somehow manage to be not only raspy, as if from disuse, but also nasally. He's no baritone, that's for sure. Middle of the tenor range, maybe.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:640|Echo (640)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The gauzy dress wearing femmebat is soon nearly diving as her wings go back and she is almost more or less ontop of the long dark-haired elf. Perhaps it was the palor and that hair, as well as the gothic attire. But whatever it is, the bat seems incensed! <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Oh my, my dear, careful how you cut yourself..." Echo leaned back just a bit, gesturing to the wounded leg, standing and bending down over the elven male. "It is more dangerous at times than you might think," though, whatever bloodlust Echo might have had aroused in her by that scent seems to be taken a backseat for the nearly glowing admiration she has for this necromancer. Did he just seem the type to be raising dead bodies to bind to his will and control?<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:725|Ysuran (725)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This is just ODD, and Ysuran is confused by it all. He doesn't quite understand what it is that she finds so fascinating. He steps back again, closer to the tree-- though there's not too much further he can go-- and his ears twitch uncomfortably. As for his leg? He shifts to place the wounded leg behind his other, unwounded one.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"An animal bite, nothing more. It happened fairly recently, but it will heal," he assures her. There is a note of confusion in his voice, as this situation was notone that he ever thought would happen to him. And he didn't really know what to do!<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:640|Echo (640)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The way the elf shifts his leg might even seem like a lady trying to hide her own from the prying eyes of some onlookers. Though with Echo there is much more practical concern at work here, most likely. There is a slight licking of those rouge lips of her's, peering up at the elf's face as if his voice and speech have mildly distracted her. <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Oh, poor thing, I'm Echo, of the noble family Delacroix, do relax yourself, lest you faint," she gestured for the elf to lay back, as if to sit at the base of the tree, like he wasn't already backing away from her.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:725|Ysuran (725)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ysuran probably doesn't quite understand the practical concern-- to him, vampires were undead that were more powerful than liches. Werebats werethe closest thing he knew to what Echo was, and he'd never met one of THOSE who could talk. Most went for his throat immediately. Figuratively speaking.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At the mention of fainting, Ysuran shakes his head. "The wound has already been treated, do not worry." The blood she smells is probably from the bandage that is wrapped around it. And is also slightly old blood. Still, it is blood. Though politeness and decorum demands that he return a greeting. He bows deeply, without a lot of difficulty from his leg, ashe's leaning on the staff. "I am Ysuran," he offers. "It is a great honor to meet you, my lady Delacroix."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:640|Echo (640)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Most werebats to one's knowledge also did not wear heels and dresses, except for the most fabulous, perhaps. Echo however is neither exactly vampire or werebat, more she-bat! And right now the necromantic elf has her complete undivided attention. "Oh? are you sure it doesn't require a good bleeding? the foul humors must escape before healing can continue," Echo looked at once surprised and concerned. <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Thankfully, my saliva contains draculin, an anti-coagulant agent," she opened her mouth and showed off that long red tongue of hers between those ivory fangs and teeth. Apparently totally unbashful, she closed her mouth when she noticed the greeting he gave her. "Oh, aren't you the most polite," grin grin.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:725|Ysuran (725)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And the lack of werebats wearing fancy clothing in Faer�n only adds to the confusion! Most werebats wore only what they needed to keep warm. Even modesty wasn't a factor for them.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Though as soon as she shows off the teeth, it sort of gets through what's going on. And there is an immediate unpleasant reaction. Ysuran shudders at seeing the teeth. "Ah, n-no thank you, My lady." The tremble of his voice causes him to clear his throat a little. "I have been assured by the finest doctors that I could see that the foul humors have already been let to bleed."<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As for being polite? Well, there's an odd sort of blush at that. Though he doesn't respond verbally for a moment. "I ... try," he finally manages. He is NOT telling her he's also a noble. Or at least, he was. Kelemvor only knows what she'd do then...<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:640|Echo (640)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Aww, that's a shame," Echo responds to the news that the 'humors' have already been let out of the elf. As if he had any 'humor' to begin with, right? ohoho. "Sadness, perhaps another time," Echo finally gives the elf a modicum of personal space as she steps back, before closing her wings behind her, tucking them in against her shoulders. <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Well, the night is fleeting, and I think I must see you another night," it would appear that the poor elf has been given a reprieve... for now. For the nights around here are long, and the she-bats get hungry. The wings behind her stay closed, but that eerie fog seem to surround here again--and she is gone. Leaving only moonlight and motes of what might be dust behind.<br> <br>


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