milliways_bar | (no subject)

A strange feeling has come upon me. A feeling of longing, for what I do not know. I have my friends, my dear friends, Bruenor the Dwarf king and ever at his side is Regis the Halfling, Wulfgar the leader of the barbarians of Icewindale was back once more in both mind and body, there was Guenhwyvar of course the magical panther always eager to come to my call, and Catti-Brie. My beloved Catti-Brie. So what could I long for more than to have my friends and loved ones around me? It is the answer to this question that has drawn me from my sleep in the warm depths of Mithril Hall and out onto the windswept slopes of Fourthpeak. As I sit and gaze into the night sky all my worries and longing seem to fall away, for under that blanket of stars who in all the Realms cannot be calmed.

As is custom for me I sit through the night and the dawn as well, the pain of the bright sun on my eyes a vindication, a reminder of where I came from yet a reminder of where I belong. It is as I rise that I realize I am no longer on a mountainside but a forest with a lake in sight.

A place I have not visited in months, a place of fond memories and good friends. So I stand, hands resting easy on the hilts of my scimitars and begin the short walk into the Bar proper.

Entering the establishment I am assaulted by the sights and smells. So many different cultures, creeds, races, and powers have merged here to create a place that is both safe and dangerous, it is the home for those that have none and the friend for those have never been called friend.

I walk up to the bar and place my hand affectionately on the counter-top, where upon a glass of elven Moondrop wine appears in my hand. Placing a gold coin on the counter I spin around on my stool to take in the room at large.

It is Milliways and it is good to be home.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There is a blue skinless man, although man is not quite it, what was once a man is more like it. He is sitting on a stool, his skinless body looking rather painful, as it would be if you had no skin. His eyes were empty sockets of light, and his hair was black and hung down raggedly around a skinless face. What was left of his clan colors was wrapped around his face, hiding a missing jaw. Two three clawed hand rested on the table, all the flesh missing,his arms and hands wrapped in raggs of what was once his gloves. His cloven feet rested on a stool rung, the remnants of his metal boots shining dully in the light of the bar. This s Raziel, the Soul Reaver twisting about his blue arm in a blue fire.

Raziel looked over and saw the strange looking man next to him.

"Hello," said Raziel wondering about this new sight. What was visible of his face was smiling.

Man is not the way to describe Drizzt either. He stands 5 feet 7 inches tall, as he looks towards the, for lack of a better word, being, Drizzt tucks his shoulder length stark white hair behind his pointed ear; his violet eyes shining Drizzt nods to the speaker.

"Good eve sir!"

There is a ring in his voice as he speaks his ebony skin nearly glowing with happiness.

Raziel notices the pointed ears, this one isn't human.

"Greetings, I am Raziel," he said and offered a muscle and bone hand, " I haven't seen you around here before. But I guess there are a lot of people I don't know yet."

The cloth slid down a bit on one side of his face revealing part of a jaw less mouth and shreds of skin where a cheek used to be.

Drizzt's reaction is at first that of horror, an undead here! But then the welcome tone of the Raziel's sinks into Drizzt's very core.

His right hand moves away from his scimitar hilt, where in his horror it had flown with all speed.

"I have been gone from this place for three fortnights."

His hand hovers between himself and Raziel, his heart going against everything his has learned about undead telling him that this creature can be trusted.

Drizzt shakes his head and takes Raziel's claw in his strong but slender grip.

"I must apologize I am more accustomed to fighting one of your kind rather than shaking hands with them.

Raziel's "eyes" narrowed at the sight of the hand near the weapons. He was sure that he would not fight in here, but he would defend himself if he needed to. His hand faltered a bit getting ready to need to use the Soul Reaver.

With the hand shake Raziel relaxes a bit. He was still on guard, he was unsure what this meeting would lead to.

"You have met another Soul Eater?" asked Raziel the covering on his face slipping again showing his fangs, "I am the only one of my kind from my world, at least the only one of my kind that can shift to the material realm. What are you?"

"Not personally no, though I have never heard of one being able to speak?"

"All the undead that I have run into are mindless beings blindly following the orders of the one who summoned or created them."

There is a little more venom in his voice than there should be considering his present company.

"It depends on the undead you speak of," said Raziel, "I was once a vampire. My sire ripped my wings off," he hooked a thumb at his back where a set of tattered wings hung limply," and threw me into the abyss, water is bad for most vampires in my world. It burned my skin off."

Raziel laughed, a dry husky laugh.

"I am trying to kill him," Raziel said matter of factly, a bit of venom in his voice as well, "Why are you so bitter towards the undead?"

Someone is being looked at from above a stack of library books.

Doesn't seem to remember seeing this fellow before, as Drizzt looks distinct enough to be remembered even after seeing him only once.

And when Drizzt turns to look at the bar he looks down.

Rude to stare and all that.

Had he not been so alive with energy at finding himself back here once more Drizzt might have missed the man as he ducked behind his books.

"Good eve sir!" A cheery melodic voice echoes from the direction of the newcomer.

"Hello," he says, feeling rather embarrassed for staring. "Don't think I've seen you hereabouts before."

"I have until recently been stuck in my own world."

Rising from the stool Drizzt walks towards the stranger, dipping into a low bow as he approaches.

"Drizzt Do`Urden a pleaseure to meet you sir."

"That ... would explain it," he says, recovering from his embarrassment.

"I am Rabastan Lestrange, but you can just call me 'Rabastan' if you like."