Drusilia Naïlo: The Making of a Watchman

[Drusilia Nailo]

Dru sat in the smoky tavern, in the flickering lantern light. The crowd was starting to thin out as people began to trickle home. It was very late. She stared into her half empty tankard for a moment, and then drank again. Andaryn. How could she have been so stupid? She was filled with conflicting emotions, ranging from sadness to blatant hatred of the man. Why couldn't Papa have let me go with him to deal with Andaryn? I wanted to watch him suffer... She scowled, knowing why Papa didn't ask her to come along when he and Kennic went to deal with the bard. He thought she was too soft. That just added insult to injury.

She looked up blearily as a figure approached her table. It was Ivellimor. He was smiling at her. "Drusilia," he said cheerfully, pulling up a chair beside her and sitting down. "It's lovely to see you tonight." He sniffed the air, and then raised his eyebrows. "You smell like a brewery."

"Thank you, Ivellimor," Dru said, annunciating her words very carefully.

He grinned, unabashed, and moved closer to her. "You look so upset," he said, soothingly, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

Dru knocked his hand away, and glowered at him. "No offense, Ivellimor, but don't touch me."

He looked surprised, and then shrugged. "Alright, if you want it that way," he said, placatingly. He watched her sip her ale, and then sighed. "Here I was thinking that I might convince you to be my date at a party tonight. It's at Kalarian's place."

Dru grimaced, and shook her head. "Thank you, but no. I'm going to be going home soon."

"What's got into you, love?" He draped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug.

Dru sprung backwards so fast that her chair went flying. She leapt to her feet, and pulled her rapier, holding it at Ivellimor's throat. "I said, don't touch me. I meant it," she said, glaring fiercely at him.

He stared at her, his face ashen and his eyes wide. "Drusilia," he choked out, "Please don't do this..."

Dru was vaguely aware of her trio of guards, Kennic in the lead, standing to their feet and moving towards them.

"Drusilia," she heard Kennic's worried voice, "Put away the sword now."

She saw Ivellimor swallow nervously, and then relaxed her sword arm.

Ivellimor didn't waste any time scrambling to his feet. "I'm sorry," he said, his pale face starting to turn red. He turned, briskly, and nearly fled to the door.

One of Dru's guards stopped him, and pulled him to one side, murmuring quietly into his ear. She saw realization dawn on him, and the look he flashed her was one of a true apology.

When she nodded to him, he gave her a wry grin, and then stepped out the door.

"Drusilia," Kennic said, "Sheathe the sword."

Dru did so.

"I believe that it's time you went home," he said, moving and taking her arm into his. "You are clearly overwrought and intoxicated."

Dru nodded. "I don't know why I did that," she murmured. "I just didn't want him to touch me. I don't want anybody touching me like that."

Kennic nodded, and guided her out of the tavern. "I understand," he said. "And now Ivellimor does. He's a good boy. He'll leave you alone."

"I'm never going to fall in love again," she assured Kennic, as they walked down the middle of the dark street.

"You are exactly like your father," sighed Kennic. "So I doubt that you ever will. But you shouldn't pull a sword on every man that finds you attractive."

Dru stared at him blankly, her feet stumbling over themselves as she forgot how to walk. "Why not?"

Kennic snorted. "Oh Drusilia," he said sadly. "Growing up like you have has affected you more than I thought."

Dru shrugged as they approached the nondescript building that housed some of Papa's prostitutes. "The best way for them to avoid my sword is to not try to get me into bed. It's all up to them."

Kennic shook his head, opening the door for her. "Go to bed," he said wearily. "We can talk more about it in the morning, when you're feeling more reasonable."

Dru nodded, leaning over, and kissed Kennic on the cheek. "Night," she told him, blissfully unaware of how much her attitude was worrying her bodyguard. She walked down the perfume scented hallway to the room that was, for the time being, hers. She wished that Papa was around. He would understand how she felt better than anyone.

 

[cjyoung1]

When you say only 2 or so more postings you mean for this story line right? Please say that is what you mean, 'cause I don't know what I might do without this story - start watching prime time television...

I hope that you do continue with your stories. I find them very well written and quite entertaining. Thank you.

 

[drnuncheon]

When you say only 2 or so more postings you mean for this story line right? Please say that is what you mean, 'cause I don't know what I might do without this story - start watching prime time television...

Well, after talking with her tonight, Dru says it might be 3 or 4. Or 5. That should bring her up to the point where she joins the Watch. I know she and Di'Fier have talked about writing some of the pair's early adventures, but I don't know if anything will come of it.

I'm also trying to convince both Dru and Di'Fier to write up in-character journals for the current storyline (the finale of Book Two), which you'll see on the other thread.

J

 

[Drusilia Nailo]

Woo! I have an addict! But seriously, I'm addicted enough to writing these stories that I'm going to find other ways to do Dru write-ups. Even if that means keeping that journal from now on.

 

[Buddha the DM]

I think that I can safely say that you have more than one addict for your story hour.

 

[Horacio]

Yup, for example, me

 

[dpdx]

I think that I can safely say that you have more than one addict for your story hour.

Hear, hear! Now POST!

 

[Boss]

And then there were five... KEEP GOING, PUHLEASE!!!!!!!

 

[Drusilia Nailo]

"Papa, you're back!" Dru burst into his office, uninvited.

Papa was sitting behind his desk, meticulously cleaning his dagger while talking with one of the members of his organization, an almost portly elf that he usually used for collecting protection money. He looked up at his daughter, and smiled, setting the knife down on his desk. "That will be all, Jarian. Make sure that you convince him that it would be a wise choice for him to find the money, somehow."

Jarian nodded, and hurried out, nodding to Dru on the way.

Dru grinned at Jarian, and then darted behind the desk to give Papa a hug. "I missed you," she told him. "Did you hear about when Kennic and I had to flee to Scurvytown?"

"Yes," he said. "Which is part of the reason that I stayed gone. Sit down, we need to talk."

She sat down in the chair that Jarian had just vacated, studying Papa cautiously. He sounded very serious, even more than he usually did.

"I know who tried to kidnap you and murder Kennic," he said, "Partially thanks to your rather unexpected ally the other night."

Dru raised a brow. "Is he dead yet?"

Papa smiled thinly. "Not yet. I'm going to see to it that he dies tonight, though. I want you to come with me."

Dru grinned, thrilled that he was finally taking her on raids with him, instead of locking her up for her own safety. "Alright, I'll make sure that I'm ready!"

He nodded. "Do that."

"Who is it?"

Papa cleared his throat, and leaned back in his chair. "His name is Byron Shezari. He has aspirations of running an organization like mine. His base of operations is in one of the contested parts of Drac's end."

"I'm glad that we're going to get him," she said.

Papa studied her, and then shrugged. "We have to. There is no choice. If we let him get away with it, then the attempts on your safety or your life, along with mine, will increase. The others will sense weakness, and will move in."

Dru shuddered. "That can't be allowed to happen."

"Exactly. The lesson needs to be taught. To betray a Naïlo is to sign one's own death warrant."

Dru raised her eyebrows. "Betray?"

He nodded. "Shezari and his people were on my payroll. His aspirations clouded his good sense."

"If we take him out, are we going to acquire his territory for the Organization?"

Papa smirked. "But of course."

Dru nodded, and stood. "I'll go get some rest and get my gear together."

"As will I," said Papa, also rising to his feet. "Rest well, Daughter."

Three elves stood in an alley in Drac's End. Tensin Naïlo himself was one of them, his dark hair pulled back into a serviceable tail, his black cloak wrapped around him. He alone was not visibly armed. His daughter, Drusilia, stood beside him, her pale blue eyes too eager, marking her as a novice. Her beautifully made elven rapier hung at her side, and her fingers kept curling, as if itching to draw it. Kennic, loyal and true bodyguard and secondary father figure, stood beside her, his face drawn down into a scowl. He did not look pleased.

Papa turned to look at Dru, his blue eyes locking with hers. "If it becomes too dangerous," he told her, "Or if something happens to Kennic and I, you are to run. No heroics."

Dru nodded, so that he wouldn't send her home.

"Alright," sighed Papa, eying her. "Let's go."

The three moved in unison, creeping through the darkness, all moving towards a window at the rear of the alley. Kennic stepped up, and tried the window. It slid open silently, not locked, thanks to their insider.

Papa grabbed the sill, and then leapt over the side. Drusilia followed suit, with a gentle push from behind from Kennic. They were standing in a tiny room, the larder. The shelves were stocked with bags of flour, jars of spices, and some kind of meat that Dru didn't care to guess about. She heard Kennic move up behind her, and then looked to Papa to give the cue to move on.

He did so, and the three elves crept from the larder into the kitchen. The entire house was silent, its occupants likely asleep. Papa pressed up against the first door, listening. He smiled in grim satisfaction, and silently opened the door. Dru could hear the sounds of a snoring man within. She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. It was show time.

 

[Drusilia Nailo]

Well, I couldn't resist posting again, after all of the commentary. I hope you enjoyed it.