deathqxeen
It was rare that she saw visitors, and even rarer still that said visitor was human. After all, she was but a name lost to history, long forgotten in the minds of those who hadn't lived as long as she had. And yet, here was a girl, merely a child in the eyes of Eldalote, standing here in front of her. She was lost, for that had to be the only reasonable explanation for why someone had stumbled this far into the woods where the elf had spent the centuries living since the First Age.
sharperbIades
@deathqxeen ⠀⠀ she repeats the name of the elven woman slowly, as if she were learning it or memorizing it. both would be correct, unfortunately. "i am aware of what an elf is." the mercenary mumbles, her hand flexing at her side before completely resting only after her gaze fully studies the woman before her. "i do not know of their history, but i know of their race. i would assume that is enough." she purses her lips beneath her cloth wrap, eyes never leaving her face. "where am i?"
deathqxeen
Yes, she supposed that much was true. She had heard the whispers in the west, whispers that something older than even she was making its return. She could remember it, from the First Age, though it was a memory she would have much rather forgotten. "My name is Eldalote," she replied, not quite sure how much more she could go into it. She was certain few in this Age would have had much of an idea anyway. Forgotten in history, though that was what she preferred. "I suppose you know what an elf is."
sharperbIades
@deathqxeen ⠀⠀ it takes cerre a long moment for her hand to leave her blade, but her body does not release the tension that it holds. she may not be good with a sword, but she excels in close combat should this encounter turn that way. “i am in unfamiliar territory, forgive me for not being so easily trusting.” she does not say anything else, nor does she let down her guard — emotionally or physically. “who are you?”
