Sabrielle

Reverie by the Sea
The beach on the tip of the crescent perches on higher ground, veiled in dry white sand. Down near the bay, the domed tops of submerged rocks can be seen when the tides recede, their surfaces covered with stubborn barnacles. Waves splash up these rocks, sending sprays of salty mist into the air. Towards the east, black cliffs cast their long shadows on the beach at dusk and at dawn. A miniature forest of flowers has grown amongst the mossy dark stones fallen on the beach near the ridge; clumps of hyacinths sway in unison with sprigs of wild daisies and violets in the light sea breeze.
Exits: northwest

Sabrielle leans a thin shoulder against the salt-encrusted metal bars of the cage she is kept in. The cage is hung from a thick wooden beam securely to another metal-enforced log that is driven into the ground. Her cage swings methodically in the sea breeze above the crashing waves. Her dark hair hangs in flat, grubby ribbons and her dress is stained. The cage is bare without a trace of food dishes or water.

The pixie's hideout along the Mathlaan coast is strategically placed at the juncture of two opposing ocean currents, a danger zone of hidden rip tides and undertow which a wise captain would avoid. His men have the confidence and trust of their own wings and transport vessels and have no need to seafaring ones.

Vien is perched on one of the outlooks secured to the black cliffs that rise up against the deep blue of the ocean. Below, a group of pixies are harvesting large sea pearls, grown using the fertile waters coming from Mathlaan's lagoons for the last ten years and Vien has made quite a tidy profit off these little gems - and not that the Uelma have figured out what he's doing to her waters.

Sabrielle glances down between the cris-crossed bars of her cage, at her toes and the dirt beneath her uncut toenails. She wonders where her boots are and remembers that Vien has taken both the boots and the gloves she wore. He said something about unicorn leather and was insistent that the boots and gloves were stripped from her.

She did not understand why the reference then and of course, did not have a reply when he questioned her about their origins. And that was the furthest in conversation they'd have gotten.

Vien peers up at the swaying cage and the small posterior of the elf sitting inside, feeling her emerald gaze onto him and picturing in front of him a big bag of gold coins. Mentally, he persuades himself again and again of the payouts he will get once Selwyn delivers cage, elf and all to the client's designated meeting place. Without the boots and gloves, she is just another female and a useless elf.

The pixie looks strange. She thinks, shifting her seating position and relieving a few parts of her pressed flesh on the warmed bars. The cage creaks, lounging lightly to the side as the elf moves her weight across. Strange like as if he is entirely cast from a single sheet of shimmering metal.

"Hello." The elf curls her body a little as she bends her face downwards to the pixie, trying to get his attention. "Hello!"

Vien's gaze snaps away. He ignores the elf or tries, pulling himself in a few flits from the outlook and further down the rocks of the cliff.

"Hello, Vien." The elf greets again, in her accented lilting tone, speaking in his language. "I know your name is Vien."

Her emerald eyes widen and she flattens herself against the bottom of the cage, continuing her one-sided exchange with the pixie.

"Do you know who I am, Vien?" Sabrielle asks, her thin fingers slipping into the small square openings in between the bars.

"You're the witch." The pixie curtly replies and that is all he says.

He desperately does not wish to be engaged in conversation with Sabrielle. She gives him the creeps. Not in the way that he disliked elves - but she frightens him. Yes, that is what it is. He is afraid of her. Not in the way where he is afraid of magical lightning storms and fireballs, but he gets a feeling she would tear him apart in the most horrific way possible if she is out of that cage.

There is a long, long pause and Sabrielle breathes in, leaning now back against one side of the square cage, letting the cage swing again side to side like a swaying cradle.

"I am hungry, Vien." She utters, placing her hands over her stomach.

The pixie snaps out of his reverie and speaks, not looking up. "You wish to feed?" He asks, the words literally spilling out of his mouth.

"Yes." The elf replies simply, tilting her head and glancing down at the pixie. "I am hungry."

Vien flits upwards, allowing himself to glide down to where a group of pixies waited. They watch his signal and then, Sabrielle's cage was lowered into the ocean till the lapping waves surge over the top of the cage.

"Let her feed." He hunkers down, keeping his sights away from the impending carnage that would soon bleed into the waters in front of him.

The pixies nod, heaving up what appears to be a twitching olive-skinned body encased in some sort of spidery silk and cocooned in a translucent material and allow the wrapped body roll downwards into the water. It enters the ocean with a loud splash, froth and foam and crimson lace bubbling upwards from where the body is released into and then no more.

Vien sighs, scrounging the bottom of his palm against his forehead. Selwyn better know how to deal with this.

Else she might just eat up his entire crew.

Back to Roleplaying Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License