(( Just the beginning of a little story I’m working on involving my Arasi brigand, Sensual. Not all mapped out yet, but it was a fun start. I’ll add to it as I come up with ideas, here’s hoping I get a lot of them, I do enjoy writing, so if you don’t enjoy it, oh well!))
She danced with the shadows, weaving in and out between them. Her feet barely touching the floor. Violet eyes glinted in the dark, and nothing could be heard aside from the faint swoosh swoosh of her daggers moving. The little Arasi was called Sensual, though most barely even knew that, and she loved to dance with the shadows. Her wings painted patterns on the floor as she moved, her body lithe and trim.
Her blades glinted once, and then twice, piercing imaginary foes who had done her wrong. Or perhaps people she had been hired to kill, as that was not beneath her. Her mouth curved in a smirk, and she continued to dance. Her mind drifted and wandered and she forgot where she was, almost forgot herself. Such was the way of the dance.
The dance can be dangerous
A voice echoed through her head, and she worked to shake it out. Dangerous? This? She practically laughed. She was not complete without her blades at her side. The connection she felt to them was something beyond what most could understand. Certainly her own family had not understood her desire, her need, to lose herself in the dance. She had left them as early as she could, saying not a word and simply disappearing from her home in the dead of the night years ago. She did not expect anyone to stop her or try to find her, if anything Sensual imagined they would be quite relieved that she had ‘disposed’ of herself, ridding them of one more problem.
A cat cried out from across the cavern she was practicing in and caught her attention for a fraction of a second before she turned back to her knife play. It was nearing two in the morning and the only people who were wandering through Neriak at this time were drunks and whores peddling their wares. She’d floated silently through the caverns to the older sections that were constantly deserted where she could be in peace. She needed to clear her mind.
Earlier that day an emissary had arrived to speak with her. Or so the person had claimed. From the Queen none the less. Sensual was both intrigued and nervous about the meeting. The man had been wrapped from head to foot in some sort of rough scarf material, his eyes glinted out in slits, and his voice rasped out with a heavy lisp. There was not much Sensual could figure out from him aside from the fact that if she needed to she could burry her daggers into his brain without him crushing her. He’d come to her with a task, but would not speak more about it. He wanted her to accept before knowing fully what it entailed, and Sensual was not sure she was comfortable with that. He’d given her the rest of the night to contemplate it, and asked her to meet him at the Fair in Darklight Woods the next day. She’d agreed, after all money was money, and he promised this would give her plenty of it. He’d shaken a purse before he left and the promise of coin rang through her mind even now.