The dark oval sprouted from the air, filling in, solid black, like a shadow, against the outer wall of the castle.Damn, he cursed in hi mind. He was hoping Qee'lakstreea would have been able to get him within the battlements. It was no big deal though, he could get in easily enough. He felt the smooth edges of his pure mithril armor, worked in the abyys, hugging his body better than any garment ever had, under his black cloak. The hood covered his face, concealing his white hair and the soft gleam of his red eyes. His mouth remained closed. He carried nothing with him, save the daggers strapped to his ankles and wrists, hidden under the cloak.Nothing to jingle. Nothing to shine. Nothin to interrupt his complete silence. He smirked evilly under his hood. No race could match the silence of the drow, and he was revered in his ways among his kin.
The portal closed, silently, instantly,after he had cleared it. He pressed his body against the wall, his chest feeling the lack of heat, the lifelessness, unable to be found in the underdark. His head moved up,still straight against the wall, looking up at the dim twinkle of the stars so high above. No doubt many of his light skinned cousins were looking at the same stars. They both loved them, but for different reasons. They meant nighttime. The time of the drow. He looked at the top of the wall, thinking of how he should do this. It would have to be perfect.He never performed any less than than.He enacts a globe of darkness around himself, one of the deadly natural abilities of the dreaded dark elves. Everything went dark around him, but Qee'lakstreea was his eyes. The demon in his swords, which lay condensed and embedded in his arms, sensed everything around them, more efficiently than Venorik's own orbs. He started levitating up, right up against the wall, the globe of darkness,( though not very noticable, looking as a shadow) staying around his form. He felt with his hands, though he already knew himself to be there, the end of the wall after about seven seconds of levitating directly up. He quickly descended the other side. He knew that even as a shadow in the dead of night, mages might detect him or magic alarms might be set, thought he doubted any average gaurds would notice him, and any who noticed something odd would most likely dismiss it for what it was. A silent shadow.
He sprinted towards the moat, jumping, using the combination beween his velocity and levitation to hurtle himself across in a few seconds, then sprinted towards the castle. It was not far. If archers fired, they would more than likely miss, for the drow was in darkness and they would basically shooting blind. He didn't miss a beat, jumping,propelling the levitation as he scaled the wall of the complex. He broke into the first window he found, coming into a hallway, lavish and lightened, by what he could not tell. The window broken,the globe dissipated, he looked for somewhere ti hide.He went after the first door, quickly, yet soundlessly, turning the knob. It was a single room, he noticed with a small sigh, but then noticed a human, in night clothes, staring at him in shock. A bedroom? He could not tell the difference with these surface dwellers.
He waited but a moment, collecting himself and pulling out a dagger in each hand with a smirk. The human was unarmed, as well. It tried to stumble away, to scared and busy to scream, yet soon couldn't as an X of red was carved onto his neck, black hands over his shoulders, the gleam of a blade catching his eye. Venorik smiled as the weak human fell to the ground, clutching his severed vocal cords. The drow leaned over him, allowing the human to see the smile under the dark hood.Venorik felt the warmth of the blood pooling about his boots. and how free the lifeblood was flowing! He felt the increased heartbeat, the natural high given to him by watching another suffer. No matter the end, it was already worth it. The lone drow smiled wider.
The time of the drow.
