Drusilia Naïlo: The Making of a Watchman
- Thread starter Drusilia Nailo
- Start date
Drusilia Nailo
First Post
DiFier said:
One of many reasons! The primary reason will be discussed at length soon.
Drusilia Nailo
First Post
"Drusilia." Papa stood in the doorway of her room in the new safe house.
Dru looked up from her histories. "Yes?"
He came into the room, and sat down in a chair. "Your one hundredth birthday is going to be here next month," he said, looking a little sad.
Dru grinned at him. She had been looking forward to that birthday for a long time now. It was a significant time in a young elf's life, marking the beginning of adulthood.
He returned the smile, and said, "I have people planning your coming of age party."
Dru raised her eyebrows, surprised. Many elves in Freeport didn't hold with the old traditions, or at least to that extent. "Really?"
He nodded. "I think that we're going to have a week of it. Four days to invite the general public," he said, meaning non-related elves, "And one night with just you, Kennic and I."
Dru nodded, biting her lower lip. "Alright," she said after a long pause, feeling a little intimidated at the idea of such an extravagent social event being held in her honor. Who would come?
"You're going to need to be fitted for dresses," he told her. She made a face, but he continued relentlessly. "And you're going to have to sit for your portrait."
She sighed.
With a faint chuckle, he rose to his feet. "The rest is going to be a surprise. I'm quite sure that you will like it." He moved towards the door, and then said, "Nilia will help you with your clothes."
Nilia, an older woman and "retired" courtesan, turned Dru so that she was facing the mirror. "Look," she said with a light laugh. "We have turned you into a lady."
The fabric was still pinned in places, but what was going to be a stunning midnight blue dress clung to Dru's slender form. It had long sleeves, which Nilia had insisted on, since they covered her myriad of scars. Dru blinked. "I'm- impressed."
The tailor breathed a sigh of relief. "I am very thrilled to be doing the work for you, Miss Naïlo," he said anxiously. "And if there is anything, and I mean anything, that you want changed with the dress, let me know."
Nilia held Dru's hair up experimentally. "It will look very elegant in an upsweep," she pronounced. "Now. We need a costume."
"A costume?" Dru stared at her.
Nilia's eyes twinkled. "It wouldn't a ball without being a masquerade ball, would it?"
"There's going to be a ball?" Dru felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "But I don't know how to dance very well!"
"Well then," said Nilia, "You're going to have to learn. Starting tomorrow, after your portrait sitting."
Dru sighed. It was going to be a long month.
Dru looked up from her histories. "Yes?"
He came into the room, and sat down in a chair. "Your one hundredth birthday is going to be here next month," he said, looking a little sad.
Dru grinned at him. She had been looking forward to that birthday for a long time now. It was a significant time in a young elf's life, marking the beginning of adulthood.
He returned the smile, and said, "I have people planning your coming of age party."
Dru raised her eyebrows, surprised. Many elves in Freeport didn't hold with the old traditions, or at least to that extent. "Really?"
He nodded. "I think that we're going to have a week of it. Four days to invite the general public," he said, meaning non-related elves, "And one night with just you, Kennic and I."
Dru nodded, biting her lower lip. "Alright," she said after a long pause, feeling a little intimidated at the idea of such an extravagent social event being held in her honor. Who would come?
"You're going to need to be fitted for dresses," he told her. She made a face, but he continued relentlessly. "And you're going to have to sit for your portrait."
She sighed.
With a faint chuckle, he rose to his feet. "The rest is going to be a surprise. I'm quite sure that you will like it." He moved towards the door, and then said, "Nilia will help you with your clothes."
Nilia, an older woman and "retired" courtesan, turned Dru so that she was facing the mirror. "Look," she said with a light laugh. "We have turned you into a lady."
The fabric was still pinned in places, but what was going to be a stunning midnight blue dress clung to Dru's slender form. It had long sleeves, which Nilia had insisted on, since they covered her myriad of scars. Dru blinked. "I'm- impressed."
The tailor breathed a sigh of relief. "I am very thrilled to be doing the work for you, Miss Naïlo," he said anxiously. "And if there is anything, and I mean anything, that you want changed with the dress, let me know."
Nilia held Dru's hair up experimentally. "It will look very elegant in an upsweep," she pronounced. "Now. We need a costume."
"A costume?" Dru stared at her.
Nilia's eyes twinkled. "It wouldn't a ball without being a masquerade ball, would it?"
"There's going to be a ball?" Dru felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "But I don't know how to dance very well!"
"Well then," said Nilia, "You're going to have to learn. Starting tomorrow, after your portrait sitting."
Dru sighed. It was going to be a long month.
DiFier
First Post
see now this is where Dru and Di'Fier can start seeing each other. dru is going to be turning 100 Di'Fier is like 9 or 10 at the same time. So next time they are both hanging out in the Kasier . . um, well maybe next time Dru goes to the Wizard guild tower then . . oh wait. perhaps it is when . . . oh wait that doesn't work. Maybe it isn't surprising that they didn't meet untill they both joined the watch.
Last edited:
WisdomLikeSilence
Community Supporter
Damn,
I just stumbled across this, and it's great!
So where do I find that link for the Freeport stories....
-WLS
I just stumbled across this, and it's great!
So where do I find that link for the Freeport stories....
-WLS
drnuncheon
Explorer
WisdomLikeSilence said:
The one in my .sig?
J
WisdomLikeSilence
Community Supporter
drnuncheon said:
The one in my .sig?
J
Yep. That one. Much better than having to search through the story hour to find it. Thanks!
-WLS
Drusilia Nailo
First Post
A very large elf wearing a sparkling lion mask spun up to Dru, and whirled her away onto the dancefloor. She laughed out loud, clinging to his arms tightly. "Careful," she murmured to him, "You're going to make the wine go right to my head."
A grin appeared from beneath his mask, feral. "And this is such a bad thing?" Despite his words, he steadied her, and they began dancing in time with the other couples on the floor. Dru reached up with one hand and straightened her fox's mask on her face, lest it slip. The man grinned at her. "Mustn't compromise your identity, my dear," he said.
Dru returned the grin, pausing to dip him, a move that was supposed to have been his. He laughed aloud, then, straightening back up. "Wench," he murmured. The music for that number ended then, and he dipped her backwards. When she came up, sputtering and laughing, he kissed her full on the lips, passionately.
While this normally would have been considered taboo, tonight it was acceptable, and Dru returned the kiss with passion, even though she had already figured out who this man was, and knew that on any other night she'd not dream of kissing him. His name was Jalin, and he was Alust's father. Jalin the lion bowed to her then, flashing her another feral grin, before he trotted off to claim another dance partner.
Dru turned away, only to be grabbed by two strong arms. She looked up, seeing a large feathered mask, a bird of prey. "Dance, milady?" They began dancing, circling the room slowly, before getting ready to cut down the middle, in line with the other couples. Her partner was extremely skilled, which made Dru feel a bit inadequate. "I'm afraid that my skill as a dance partner pales in comparison to your own," she said to him, laughing and doing her best to keep up.
He reached back, stroking her hair back, pulling some loose strands out of her mask's strap. "Your skills are more than adequate my dear," said a smooth, cultured voice that she did not recognize. "Years spent at court may have honed mine a touch, but", he shrugged with bland indifference. "That's no substitute for youth." He leaned into her, using his body to press her into making the next dance step correctly, and then, at the appropriate time, he switched partners with the man at his right.
She stepped into the arms of a man wearing a black highwayman's mask. It was a mask that she knew, because she'd helped him pick it out. "Hello, Kennic," she said, beaming at him as they began dancing.
"Shhh!" His eyes twinkled beneath the mask. "You'll give me away, and then the young ladies won't want to give me kisses anymore."
"Nonsense," said Dru, grinning at him. "Why would they not want to give you kisses? Even I wanted to marry you when I grew up," she said, reminding him of a time long gone.
He laughed. "You were quite adament about that too," he said. "Your father and I just went along with it to humor you. You got quite offended when we suggested that you might want someone your own age." As they got to a quieter corner on the dancefloor, he leaned to whisper to her. "Be careful, Drusilia," he said simply, before disengaging, and bowing to her at the dance's end.
And she was claimed quickly, as another hand rested on her shoulder. She turned to see who it was. The person was wearing a white harlequined mask. "May I?" The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but was not readily identifiable.
"Of course," said Dru, taking his arm, and leading him lead her out onto the floor. As they began to twirl, he said, "Such an adorable mask, all you lack is the tail."
Dru laughed. "Somehow, I think that a tail would get in the way of the night's festivities," she said.
"And how could it possibly do that, unless you were planning on some sort of mischief?" He waggled his brows, and then nibbled at her neck, making Dru laugh.
"Stop," she said, "Or else I'll surely make a fool out of myself," she said. Who was this man? He might be one of the house burglers that Papa used... his fingers were thin and delicate, so he was not a warrior. Nor did he have the smell of a wizard's spell components, a smell that she had long associated with magic.
He laughed at her. "We wouldn't want for the pretty lady to make a fool out of herself," he said, pressing the full length of his body against hers, brazenly.
"No, we wouldn't!" Dru batted at him with mock recrimination, which only made him laugh harder, and it certainly didn't make him move away. He was one of Papa's thieves! His name was Deliar, and he was a handsome one, if she recalled.
He turned his gaze across the room, and said, "I believe that I have a rival, at least in spirit," he said, tone light and bantering. He turned them so that Dru could see over his shoulder.
What she saw would have made her laugh if she were incapable of pity. A figure that could only be Alust, with his ill-fitting clothes, a little too stylish to be realistic on him, and a sequined red matador's mask was standing there, glaring at them. She turned so that she didn't have to see him anymore, and waved it away. "A rival? Hardly... he doesn't like me."
Deliar tsked. "And I thought that you weren't supposed to recognize anyone tonight," he said scoldingly.
Dru grinned at him. "Oh, of course not. Everyone's disguise is impenetrable."
"You," he said, twirling her, "have a dry wit."
"Sorry?"
"No, no, you should not be sorry. I happen," he said, moving his hips against hers, "to find a dry wit near irresistable."
"Yeah? I think that it's inherited in my family."
He coughed. "Yes, well. I shan't want the entire family... but you. You I want." He leaned to kiss her on the neck and then whispered, "Enough that I'm going to be driven to distraction. Shall we take a stroll into the garden?"
Dru nodded, breathlessly, and allowed him to escort her from the dance floor. They were nearly to the door when a figure swooped down upon them from nowhere, and whisked her away, out of the thief's arms. He was muscular, and strong, and was wearing ... a hooded priest's garment. Under the hood was a black eye mask. It had to be Papa. Who else would have been interested in wrenching away from a potential lover? She smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder. "Perhaps," she murmured, "It is good that I have someone to protect me from dangerous predators tonight. I think the wine has gone to my head."
The priest didn't say anything, although he gently stroked the back of her hair, playing with its ringlets and curls that Nilia had so painstakingly set. Dru raised her eyebrows. "So quiet?"
The figure shrugged, moving expertly with the music, but refraining from taking advantage of their proximity.
"Oh, I see... you've taken a vow of silence?" Dru grinned, her voice teasing.
The priest smiled enigmatically, and then his fingers stilled, and he spun her around. As he did so, a long strand of white hair broke free from its binding.
Dru frowned. White hair? But he does not move like an elderly man... no, this man is young. This was not Papa, who was as dark-haired as she. Intriguing, she mused. "You, my good priest, are a mystery to me," she said aloud. The music came to an end, much to her dismay, but she stood up on her toes, kissing him full on the mouth, letting him taste the wine on her tongue. She heard his intake of breath, and then he kissed her back, gently.
That was when she felt yet another arm on her shoulder. The priest bowed to her, and then retreated into the crowd. Turning to face her new partner, Dru sighed. She bowed to him as the next song began, and then realized that this partner was Papa. His dark hair was not entirely covered by his raven's mask. He smiled, and then bowed mockingly. "I won't kiss you like that, but if you could give me the pleasure of a dance?"
Dru felt herself blushing, but let Papa dance her away.
He chuckled. "Don't look so chagrined. It's your night, whether all of the guests realize it or not," he said.
Dru grinned at him, despite herself. "I don't think I've ever seen the priest before," she said, looking around to see if she could find him again. She couldn't.
Papa shrugged. "Who knows? It's supposed to be a masquerade ball, after all." He grew more serious then. "Are you having fun, Daughter? No one is taking advantage?"
Dru laughed. "No more than is to be expected, Papa. It's supposed to be a night of debauchery, after all."
He scowled, clearing his throat. "I suppose so, though you should avoid debauching yourself too much. We are having breakfast at the house of the Lanímions."
The night progressed onward, and most of her dances were filled. Several of her dances were taken up by the rakish Deliar, and just as many were taken up by the white-haired stranger, who seemed intent upon saving her from Deliar's clutches. As the night wore on, Deliar got less and less charming, and more and more annoyed, until finally he stopped asking her to dance. Her white haired stranger seemed quite pleased with himself, as he managed to get the last dance with her. He still didn't speak, but as the music ended, he leaned down, claiming a kiss, gentle and insistent at once. He didn't linger overly long, though, because servants were scurrying throughout the room, lighting all of the candles so that there was full light.
The dancers, sweaty and exhausted, clumped together cheerfully at the front of the room. "You're wanted," murmured her priest for the first time, in her ear. He pointed towards Papa, who was beckoning for her to join him at the head table.
She grinned at her priestly stranger, and then slipped over to stand next to Papa.
"And now, for the removal of the masks!" A booming male voice from the back of the room.
Everyone began taking off masks, and looking around laughingly at everyone else. Dru and her father remained masked until all attention came to them. He took her mask off for her, gently, to much applause, before taking off his own. "I present to you," he said, "My daughter, Drusilia Naïlo. On this night, she was born into the world, a child. But tonight, she is a child no longer. I acknowledge her as my daughter, and as an adult. Drusilia, happy birthday. May your life be long and productive." He smiled at her fondly, and then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.
Applause broke out, and some of the drunker members of the organization began cheering.
Papa waited for silence again, and then continued. "I have given much consideration of what it means for my daughter to be an adult, and I would like for my gifts to reflect just how multi-faceted adulthood is. So tonight," he said, reaching under the table, "I acknowledge my daughter, the woman." He pulled out a dark blue cape, with little strands of sparkling silver interspersed throughout.
The elves in the audience clapped appreciatively as the candlelight made the cloak light up.
Papa smiled, and then wrapped the beautiful garment around her shoulders, fastening the clasp at her neck. "My daughter, the woman," he said, turning her shoulders so that she was facing the crowd directly, and could be introduced to them as an equal. Dru looked around for the white haired stranger, but he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, she still smiled, and gave a half-bow to the crowd. "Thank you Papa," she said, swallowing hard to choke down her emotion. "It's beautiful."
A grin appeared from beneath his mask, feral. "And this is such a bad thing?" Despite his words, he steadied her, and they began dancing in time with the other couples on the floor. Dru reached up with one hand and straightened her fox's mask on her face, lest it slip. The man grinned at her. "Mustn't compromise your identity, my dear," he said.
Dru returned the grin, pausing to dip him, a move that was supposed to have been his. He laughed aloud, then, straightening back up. "Wench," he murmured. The music for that number ended then, and he dipped her backwards. When she came up, sputtering and laughing, he kissed her full on the lips, passionately.
While this normally would have been considered taboo, tonight it was acceptable, and Dru returned the kiss with passion, even though she had already figured out who this man was, and knew that on any other night she'd not dream of kissing him. His name was Jalin, and he was Alust's father. Jalin the lion bowed to her then, flashing her another feral grin, before he trotted off to claim another dance partner.
Dru turned away, only to be grabbed by two strong arms. She looked up, seeing a large feathered mask, a bird of prey. "Dance, milady?" They began dancing, circling the room slowly, before getting ready to cut down the middle, in line with the other couples. Her partner was extremely skilled, which made Dru feel a bit inadequate. "I'm afraid that my skill as a dance partner pales in comparison to your own," she said to him, laughing and doing her best to keep up.
He reached back, stroking her hair back, pulling some loose strands out of her mask's strap. "Your skills are more than adequate my dear," said a smooth, cultured voice that she did not recognize. "Years spent at court may have honed mine a touch, but", he shrugged with bland indifference. "That's no substitute for youth." He leaned into her, using his body to press her into making the next dance step correctly, and then, at the appropriate time, he switched partners with the man at his right.
She stepped into the arms of a man wearing a black highwayman's mask. It was a mask that she knew, because she'd helped him pick it out. "Hello, Kennic," she said, beaming at him as they began dancing.
"Shhh!" His eyes twinkled beneath the mask. "You'll give me away, and then the young ladies won't want to give me kisses anymore."
"Nonsense," said Dru, grinning at him. "Why would they not want to give you kisses? Even I wanted to marry you when I grew up," she said, reminding him of a time long gone.
He laughed. "You were quite adament about that too," he said. "Your father and I just went along with it to humor you. You got quite offended when we suggested that you might want someone your own age." As they got to a quieter corner on the dancefloor, he leaned to whisper to her. "Be careful, Drusilia," he said simply, before disengaging, and bowing to her at the dance's end.
And she was claimed quickly, as another hand rested on her shoulder. She turned to see who it was. The person was wearing a white harlequined mask. "May I?" The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but was not readily identifiable.
"Of course," said Dru, taking his arm, and leading him lead her out onto the floor. As they began to twirl, he said, "Such an adorable mask, all you lack is the tail."
Dru laughed. "Somehow, I think that a tail would get in the way of the night's festivities," she said.
"And how could it possibly do that, unless you were planning on some sort of mischief?" He waggled his brows, and then nibbled at her neck, making Dru laugh.
"Stop," she said, "Or else I'll surely make a fool out of myself," she said. Who was this man? He might be one of the house burglers that Papa used... his fingers were thin and delicate, so he was not a warrior. Nor did he have the smell of a wizard's spell components, a smell that she had long associated with magic.
He laughed at her. "We wouldn't want for the pretty lady to make a fool out of herself," he said, pressing the full length of his body against hers, brazenly.
"No, we wouldn't!" Dru batted at him with mock recrimination, which only made him laugh harder, and it certainly didn't make him move away. He was one of Papa's thieves! His name was Deliar, and he was a handsome one, if she recalled.
He turned his gaze across the room, and said, "I believe that I have a rival, at least in spirit," he said, tone light and bantering. He turned them so that Dru could see over his shoulder.
What she saw would have made her laugh if she were incapable of pity. A figure that could only be Alust, with his ill-fitting clothes, a little too stylish to be realistic on him, and a sequined red matador's mask was standing there, glaring at them. She turned so that she didn't have to see him anymore, and waved it away. "A rival? Hardly... he doesn't like me."
Deliar tsked. "And I thought that you weren't supposed to recognize anyone tonight," he said scoldingly.
Dru grinned at him. "Oh, of course not. Everyone's disguise is impenetrable."
"You," he said, twirling her, "have a dry wit."
"Sorry?"
"No, no, you should not be sorry. I happen," he said, moving his hips against hers, "to find a dry wit near irresistable."
"Yeah? I think that it's inherited in my family."
He coughed. "Yes, well. I shan't want the entire family... but you. You I want." He leaned to kiss her on the neck and then whispered, "Enough that I'm going to be driven to distraction. Shall we take a stroll into the garden?"
Dru nodded, breathlessly, and allowed him to escort her from the dance floor. They were nearly to the door when a figure swooped down upon them from nowhere, and whisked her away, out of the thief's arms. He was muscular, and strong, and was wearing ... a hooded priest's garment. Under the hood was a black eye mask. It had to be Papa. Who else would have been interested in wrenching away from a potential lover? She smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder. "Perhaps," she murmured, "It is good that I have someone to protect me from dangerous predators tonight. I think the wine has gone to my head."
The priest didn't say anything, although he gently stroked the back of her hair, playing with its ringlets and curls that Nilia had so painstakingly set. Dru raised her eyebrows. "So quiet?"
The figure shrugged, moving expertly with the music, but refraining from taking advantage of their proximity.
"Oh, I see... you've taken a vow of silence?" Dru grinned, her voice teasing.
The priest smiled enigmatically, and then his fingers stilled, and he spun her around. As he did so, a long strand of white hair broke free from its binding.
Dru frowned. White hair? But he does not move like an elderly man... no, this man is young. This was not Papa, who was as dark-haired as she. Intriguing, she mused. "You, my good priest, are a mystery to me," she said aloud. The music came to an end, much to her dismay, but she stood up on her toes, kissing him full on the mouth, letting him taste the wine on her tongue. She heard his intake of breath, and then he kissed her back, gently.
That was when she felt yet another arm on her shoulder. The priest bowed to her, and then retreated into the crowd. Turning to face her new partner, Dru sighed. She bowed to him as the next song began, and then realized that this partner was Papa. His dark hair was not entirely covered by his raven's mask. He smiled, and then bowed mockingly. "I won't kiss you like that, but if you could give me the pleasure of a dance?"
Dru felt herself blushing, but let Papa dance her away.
He chuckled. "Don't look so chagrined. It's your night, whether all of the guests realize it or not," he said.
Dru grinned at him, despite herself. "I don't think I've ever seen the priest before," she said, looking around to see if she could find him again. She couldn't.
Papa shrugged. "Who knows? It's supposed to be a masquerade ball, after all." He grew more serious then. "Are you having fun, Daughter? No one is taking advantage?"
Dru laughed. "No more than is to be expected, Papa. It's supposed to be a night of debauchery, after all."
He scowled, clearing his throat. "I suppose so, though you should avoid debauching yourself too much. We are having breakfast at the house of the Lanímions."
The night progressed onward, and most of her dances were filled. Several of her dances were taken up by the rakish Deliar, and just as many were taken up by the white-haired stranger, who seemed intent upon saving her from Deliar's clutches. As the night wore on, Deliar got less and less charming, and more and more annoyed, until finally he stopped asking her to dance. Her white haired stranger seemed quite pleased with himself, as he managed to get the last dance with her. He still didn't speak, but as the music ended, he leaned down, claiming a kiss, gentle and insistent at once. He didn't linger overly long, though, because servants were scurrying throughout the room, lighting all of the candles so that there was full light.
The dancers, sweaty and exhausted, clumped together cheerfully at the front of the room. "You're wanted," murmured her priest for the first time, in her ear. He pointed towards Papa, who was beckoning for her to join him at the head table.
She grinned at her priestly stranger, and then slipped over to stand next to Papa.
"And now, for the removal of the masks!" A booming male voice from the back of the room.
Everyone began taking off masks, and looking around laughingly at everyone else. Dru and her father remained masked until all attention came to them. He took her mask off for her, gently, to much applause, before taking off his own. "I present to you," he said, "My daughter, Drusilia Naïlo. On this night, she was born into the world, a child. But tonight, she is a child no longer. I acknowledge her as my daughter, and as an adult. Drusilia, happy birthday. May your life be long and productive." He smiled at her fondly, and then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.
Applause broke out, and some of the drunker members of the organization began cheering.
Papa waited for silence again, and then continued. "I have given much consideration of what it means for my daughter to be an adult, and I would like for my gifts to reflect just how multi-faceted adulthood is. So tonight," he said, reaching under the table, "I acknowledge my daughter, the woman." He pulled out a dark blue cape, with little strands of sparkling silver interspersed throughout.
The elves in the audience clapped appreciatively as the candlelight made the cloak light up.
Papa smiled, and then wrapped the beautiful garment around her shoulders, fastening the clasp at her neck. "My daughter, the woman," he said, turning her shoulders so that she was facing the crowd directly, and could be introduced to them as an equal. Dru looked around for the white haired stranger, but he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, she still smiled, and gave a half-bow to the crowd. "Thank you Papa," she said, swallowing hard to choke down her emotion. "It's beautiful."
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