Eternity RPC Board
09-14-2016, 12:07 AM
Forlag huffed a chuckle with Elke's insistence, a small smile sitting cozy beneath the wiry bush of his moustache, though he failed to come to Elke's rescue when called upon. Many words have been used to describe him, but tactless was certainly not one of them; what was there he could say, truly, that could ever sway Nevina's mind more than the display ELke had already given?
For her part, there was no doubt: Nevina thought she was crazy. Okay, not particularly so; Forlag certainly, but the girl...maybe emotional or excitable would be better terms, but the palpable pause that hung in the air following Elke's petite tantrum, might certainly make one think the thought of oneself. Through it all - the tantrum and the pause - the elf regarded the display through a heavy-lidded stare, eyes meandering alternatively from the flustered protestations across the table to the spread between Forlag's two guests, tea cupped gingerly in her lap. Awake since before the twilight hours of the morning and with adrenaline coursing through her small frame for most of that time, she honestly could not care less about the nuanced differences and appreciations smallish human children gave to their smallish human timeframes of development.
A long sigh was all that came as she gazed over to Forlag, done with the display, her eyes clearly stating to the town's magician, "See? A child."
But was she wrong? So what if she was a child, surely anyone capable of navigating the wide wilderness between the edges of cosmopolitan civilization and the middle of nowhere to find a single person across such avast world - the proverbial needle in the haystack - has more than proven one way or another a capability to look after one's own skin. In Nevina's eyes, the girl clearly lacked the experience to temper her skill and enthusiasm, but the fact remained that she did possess enough skill in...something to at least not distract or burden her prospective mentor with "babysitting." Besides, with anyone so dedicated to a person or craft that they would leave behind an entire life to strike out towards an unknown destination for however many weeks with no certainty of success, someone so incredibly clear of purpose, how could she deny such a request?
It's either that or she's stark raving mad, but everyone else in present company claims that in some capacity anyhow.
"Fine, very well" the elf conceded and broke the lingering silence. "But," she continued, placed the cup from her lap upon the table and leaned in upon one elbow, holding forth a pair of fingers floating indecisively over a lingonberry custard tart, "there is one condition: you do exactly as I say, when I say it. There will be no second chances, either; if you can't manage that, then we're done with each other." Changing her mind, she finally claimed a candied Halfa's root cube.
What else could Nevina truly do but accept Elke's request? She's read these kinds of novels before; by all likelihood, someone so insistent would just defy any order to "go away" and find some way to follow or sneak along on her own and be the cause of whatever untold problems for the both of them by some way of gaining recognition and making an impression. Knowing the mageling is around and following should surely put to pasture any such possibilities.
Surely.
"If you'll excuse me, my work is not done." Nevina leaned forward and slid the heavy chair backwards before she stood and pulled her shed robing back over her shoulders. Making to leave, she stopped mid-step upon remembering a passing thought and faced the present company. "Miss...Elke," she mulled over the name for a moment, settling upon a first-name basis to avoid admitting to forgetting the mageling's last name, "I shall return here for the night. We will leave upon sun-up; do please take care to get enough sleep."
For her part, there was no doubt: Nevina thought she was crazy. Okay, not particularly so; Forlag certainly, but the girl...maybe emotional or excitable would be better terms, but the palpable pause that hung in the air following Elke's petite tantrum, might certainly make one think the thought of oneself. Through it all - the tantrum and the pause - the elf regarded the display through a heavy-lidded stare, eyes meandering alternatively from the flustered protestations across the table to the spread between Forlag's two guests, tea cupped gingerly in her lap. Awake since before the twilight hours of the morning and with adrenaline coursing through her small frame for most of that time, she honestly could not care less about the nuanced differences and appreciations smallish human children gave to their smallish human timeframes of development.
A long sigh was all that came as she gazed over to Forlag, done with the display, her eyes clearly stating to the town's magician, "See? A child."
But was she wrong? So what if she was a child, surely anyone capable of navigating the wide wilderness between the edges of cosmopolitan civilization and the middle of nowhere to find a single person across such avast world - the proverbial needle in the haystack - has more than proven one way or another a capability to look after one's own skin. In Nevina's eyes, the girl clearly lacked the experience to temper her skill and enthusiasm, but the fact remained that she did possess enough skill in...something to at least not distract or burden her prospective mentor with "babysitting." Besides, with anyone so dedicated to a person or craft that they would leave behind an entire life to strike out towards an unknown destination for however many weeks with no certainty of success, someone so incredibly clear of purpose, how could she deny such a request?
It's either that or she's stark raving mad, but everyone else in present company claims that in some capacity anyhow.
"Fine, very well" the elf conceded and broke the lingering silence. "But," she continued, placed the cup from her lap upon the table and leaned in upon one elbow, holding forth a pair of fingers floating indecisively over a lingonberry custard tart, "there is one condition: you do exactly as I say, when I say it. There will be no second chances, either; if you can't manage that, then we're done with each other." Changing her mind, she finally claimed a candied Halfa's root cube.
What else could Nevina truly do but accept Elke's request? She's read these kinds of novels before; by all likelihood, someone so insistent would just defy any order to "go away" and find some way to follow or sneak along on her own and be the cause of whatever untold problems for the both of them by some way of gaining recognition and making an impression. Knowing the mageling is around and following should surely put to pasture any such possibilities.
Surely.
"If you'll excuse me, my work is not done." Nevina leaned forward and slid the heavy chair backwards before she stood and pulled her shed robing back over her shoulders. Making to leave, she stopped mid-step upon remembering a passing thought and faced the present company. "Miss...Elke," she mulled over the name for a moment, settling upon a first-name basis to avoid admitting to forgetting the mageling's last name, "I shall return here for the night. We will leave upon sun-up; do please take care to get enough sleep."