The Armor

Jarxan, Qu'el'saruk of House Dabel'kith and Za'nara, Yath'queshel of Zau'Afin stood near the Mage Lairil. A large gleaming skin of blue scales thrown over a crate. The Mage Lairil asked several questions as to what could be crafted of the shining material. The Qu'el'saruk, who was knowable in such things, expanded on various different armors while the pale haired woman stroked the fabric and listened to the discussion.

After several long minute, the males seemed to have decided that in order to make a truly fine set of armor, several components were needed. Jarxan of House Dabel'kith offered up two perfect emeralds for this task. Their clarity and color, making the Yath'queshel sigh in envy as the broad shouldered male held them up in the light of the campfire. With a glance at the Yath'abban who had wonder up, he dropped them into the dark robed mages hands with a slight smirk. House Zau'Afin gave up twelve lesser earth essence for the making of this powerful suit of mail. The Yath'queshel, making a soft sound of effort as she removed the essence from storage and offering them up to the grinning mage.

As the materials were produced something began to become very clear to the Yath'qushel. Everytime the Dabel'kith male and yath'abban were addressed, their correct titles were used and acknowledged. When she was addressed she was merely given the title of jabbress. She narrowed her eyes at this insult to her House and to her authority.

"Faern," her sultry voice low and deceptively calm as she smiled up at him. "Why is it, than when you address House Dabel'kith you use the correct titles and yet?" Her hand raises in a helpless gesture and she shifts her weight, the silk of her gown drifting from brilliant green, then to shimmering blue in the light of the fire. "When you address Zau'Afin it is merely Jabress. It does make one wonder", her tone casual almost disingenuous. "Given that the counselor position was given to Dabel'kith."

The dark mage gulps and stammers a low reply. Informing the smaller woman that she must of course, punish him if she feels slighted and he would be waiting for her near the camp fire just past the rothe pit. He finished his business with the armor, keeping his head down and trying to avoid angering the Zau'afin noble any further as he moved away to await the womans pleasure. Za'nara left to attend to some business with the Qu'el'saruk, but later returned to camp to speak with the mage.

The mage stiffened as the white clad woman sauntered up in a rustle of silk. Her eyes pale pink eyes gleamed faintly with triumph as she tosses her head watching him for a long moment. "Lairil, Lairil, my lovely faern." Her low voice held a touch of censure. "I see you know what my presence means." Her hand slowly rising to caress his cheek. "There is just one, tiny," her eyes dancing wickedly, "thing to consider. Your see my beauty. I don't really know if this was an insult from a simple faern or if perhaps," she pauses for a moment. Her hand lifting from his cheek to place her index finger over his lips her narrowed eyes making it clear he was not to speak.

"The Ilharess Elina'reuth", she continues, "holds Zau'Afin in disfavor." "Before I can consider, punishing you my lovely faern. I really need to discuss such things with my Ilharess. She will, of course, speak with your Ilharess." Slowly her lips curved into another smile and she leans forward to kiss her finger, still pressed over his lips before turning on her heel and sauntering off in a flurry of silk and the linger scent of nightshade blossoms.