A
Alexhandr
Guest
Original poster
Alexhandr cleared his throat and spoke, his face no longer gray. "Did not expect you tonight, Sarkoth. I wish for you to meet the lovely lady Lynia. She will be my guest for Jennu Itov. We were just discussing on how she was going to be measured by my tailor and be given a dress that would fit her celestial figure." He smiled as he made the compliment on how beautiful Lynia was. It was more than flattery because Alexhandr meant what he said.
"Yes, yes, quite angelic! What curves. What grace. And those eyes! A darker red than your own, Alex!" Sarkoth bowed courteously before the elf-gypsy and cackled. He elbowed Alexhandr in the ribs and made another jest. "Hahahehe! And you do not even get to see what is under those clothes of hers because of your frivolous religious convictions! Ooh, what you are missing! Hehehe! I still remember what is it is like, and that was almost over one thousand years ago! Bahaha!"
The king gave the skeletal comedian a stern glare, his face becoming a light gray once more. His left eye darted to see the expression on Lynia's face, then focused back onto Sarkoth. He was timid about it all. The notion of such things made the 1, 400 year old draconis monarch fluster greatly. How strange it was for someone as mature and wise to be taken aback by something as simple as love making! That is... if love making was at all simple to a Draconis.
"Ooh-hoo-hoo! Give me the glare why don't you? I'd return the gesture, but I have appeared to have lost mine eyes! Hahaha! Oh, where-oh-where could mine ocular sensors be? Ohh, that is right, you gauged them out in battle, ran me through with a blade, then promptly resurrected me to serve your purpose! Gah-ha-ha!"
Alexhandr sighed at Sarkoth's tease. It had given away something extremely personal. A bit of his history which he did not want others to know, especially Lynia. How would she react, knowing the devout and holy king Denthanor of Numinor could raise the dead? The king's face became sorrowful. He was expecting the elf-maiden to slap him and flee.
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Jakir gave a small smirk at her question. Knowing she was not from Numinor, or even Drakur, he explained himself kindly. "Nay, Unknown Lady. I am a Draconis. We are descendants of the great Dragons. Feathers we have not, but scales. Beaks we have not, but snouts and maws with sharp, carnivorous teeth. We are omnivores though, largely thanks to the elves and humans introducing us to other sorts of food." Rosalyn could tell right off the bat that Jakir was missing something. No, he was missing many things. He spoke in a quiet, tender tone even though his voice was rough and deep. His gorgeous sapphire eyes looked sad and empty. Though frightening from a distance, up close the High General looked innocent and harmless.
"I can also tell you have doubts about coming with me. Fear not. I shall not force you. But, also know that we know nothing of you and that whatever history you have before no longer matters here. You are in Numinor. You have been given another chance by our Maker. Another life. Here, you can start anew and enjoy peace and order. None shall be a bother to you, my lady. I swear this to you upon mine honor." Jakir was so benign to the Newcomer, the Unknown Lady. Could people here in Numinor actually be this kind, or was it all just a ploy? It could be a filthy scheme... but his eyes...
"Yes, yes, quite angelic! What curves. What grace. And those eyes! A darker red than your own, Alex!" Sarkoth bowed courteously before the elf-gypsy and cackled. He elbowed Alexhandr in the ribs and made another jest. "Hahahehe! And you do not even get to see what is under those clothes of hers because of your frivolous religious convictions! Ooh, what you are missing! Hehehe! I still remember what is it is like, and that was almost over one thousand years ago! Bahaha!"
The king gave the skeletal comedian a stern glare, his face becoming a light gray once more. His left eye darted to see the expression on Lynia's face, then focused back onto Sarkoth. He was timid about it all. The notion of such things made the 1, 400 year old draconis monarch fluster greatly. How strange it was for someone as mature and wise to be taken aback by something as simple as love making! That is... if love making was at all simple to a Draconis.
"Ooh-hoo-hoo! Give me the glare why don't you? I'd return the gesture, but I have appeared to have lost mine eyes! Hahaha! Oh, where-oh-where could mine ocular sensors be? Ohh, that is right, you gauged them out in battle, ran me through with a blade, then promptly resurrected me to serve your purpose! Gah-ha-ha!"
Alexhandr sighed at Sarkoth's tease. It had given away something extremely personal. A bit of his history which he did not want others to know, especially Lynia. How would she react, knowing the devout and holy king Denthanor of Numinor could raise the dead? The king's face became sorrowful. He was expecting the elf-maiden to slap him and flee.
---------------------------------------------------
Jakir gave a small smirk at her question. Knowing she was not from Numinor, or even Drakur, he explained himself kindly. "Nay, Unknown Lady. I am a Draconis. We are descendants of the great Dragons. Feathers we have not, but scales. Beaks we have not, but snouts and maws with sharp, carnivorous teeth. We are omnivores though, largely thanks to the elves and humans introducing us to other sorts of food." Rosalyn could tell right off the bat that Jakir was missing something. No, he was missing many things. He spoke in a quiet, tender tone even though his voice was rough and deep. His gorgeous sapphire eyes looked sad and empty. Though frightening from a distance, up close the High General looked innocent and harmless.
"I can also tell you have doubts about coming with me. Fear not. I shall not force you. But, also know that we know nothing of you and that whatever history you have before no longer matters here. You are in Numinor. You have been given another chance by our Maker. Another life. Here, you can start anew and enjoy peace and order. None shall be a bother to you, my lady. I swear this to you upon mine honor." Jakir was so benign to the Newcomer, the Unknown Lady. Could people here in Numinor actually be this kind, or was it all just a ploy? It could be a filthy scheme... but his eyes...