Misery was given voice, and she was laughing; Hope was given form, and she was haggard. And while the man called Elkor Alish appeared well and hale it took no small amount of effort for him to uphold the facade. His mind rested as well as an animal in a snare, as well might anyone's under similar circumstances. His was unresolvable obligation, an almost insurmountable task: To uncover the whereabouts of a single young woman on the run.
Unfortunately for him, his sister was good at running. She had started when she was fourteen and had yet to look back. Since then she had become quite proficient, running away from any problem that arose in her life with which she was ill-equipped to face; And when she could not run, she would hide. She was good at hiding too, finding solace amongst strangers and sanctuary almost anywhere. Alish had been on her trail for months, a trail which had long since grown cold and lonely. At first things had gone well, he'd stumbled upon an informant whom had seen her, and supplied the alias she happened to favour, but since then nothing. . .
Well, he'd found some willing to help him, and other who were not so willing, but as of yet he had not found anything which led him any closer to the object of his search.
Once again wracking his mind for anything he had not considered which might allow him an insight into where she might have gone, he walked the streets of Reajh unmindful of his path and any whom shared it with him. Blindly his blank eyes peered up towards the sterling sun, as his face is illuminated by the vibrant light it becomes evident that his orbs are as featureless as the one which he looks upon - Lacking iris and pupil both, though his sight appears unaffected by their absense. Sighing, his eyes descended slowly back to earth, settling upon a girl, a dog, and their difficulties from amongst the throng going about their daily tasks. Apparantly the mutt was lame, or to judge by the heavy bandages, at least severely injured. Wondering what to make of them, it occoured to him they would probably find him similarly enigmatic.
This train of thought, a distraction from the restlessly repetitive cycle he had grown accustomed to, was embraced eagrely by his tired mind and he pursued it.
Alish did not dress according to his station, perhaps the only Lord of Connlaoth whom did not have a taste for precious metals and jewels. Nor did he tend towards bright hues and exotic materials, and though most noticed only coarse and heavy wool, the grey fabric actually served as a light armour - Inherently able to deflect carelessly placed cuts and slashes. A taylor might notice the cleaverness with which his clothing had been sewn and the quality of the weave, but few else were capable of appreciating it. Just as a master tanner would admire the skill with which his leathers had been cured, for shark skin was known to have every bit as many teeth as the animal itself, yet despite this his gloves, belt and scabbard were smoother than the still waters their benefactors were birthed in.
That was the way with Alish, so those whom knew him forgave him his eccentricities. And if he did not look the part, in his bearing at least he did his brethren of the Favoured Blood proud, for none looking upon him would doubt his noble birth.
He did not realize it, but he'd been staring at the pair for some time - At least to judge by their painful progress - and now they were studying him in return. Moving to intercept them, he hailed them with a raised hand to show he meant no harm. This was his first trip to the ruling city of Connlaoth, and uncertain of its reputation he imagined it a strange place teeming with hidden dangers, even less sure was he how well uitlanders were recieved by the residents.
Striding towards her, he seemed to flow rather than walk. His steps were silently and precisely placed, carrying with them the careless grace of movements practised to the point of perfection, indeed, practised until they could be relied upon without conscious thought.
'Good evening mistress. Your intentions may be well enough, but I doubt the beast wishes to walk just yet.'
