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Two Vysstichi, perhaps some of the largest that either Dimnersti or Kalenel had ever seen, were the next to enter into the room. Their broad shoulders and tightly muscled torsos were distinguishable even beneath the obsidian mantles draped about their forms; the insignia of House Kitrye’veresi, an extravagant crescent moon, was embroidered upon each of their flowing cloaks.
As they drew back their hoods, one of the Vysstichi, a brutish-looking male with shortly cropped white hair, eyed both Dimnersti and Kalenel suspiciously. The elegant handle of the great broadsword strapped across his backside peeked over his right shoulder as he turned to hold the door open.
Another dark elf entered.
To Kalenel, it was none other than Faust D’Rinishad, his teacher and the first D’Rinishad that the young thief had ever met. The Prince of Har’oloth’s unrestrained silver hair fell past his shoulders and bobbled against his back, and his face was deceptively young despite the experience that marked the Vysstichi Lord’s century of life. To Dimnersti, though, it was a visage that he had not seen in patterns –perhaps longer.
“Kalenel…” Faust greeted, dipping his head slightly to acknowledge his impressively gifted student. When he looked to Dimnersti, though, the Prince of Har’oloth’s face contorted in evident confusion, greatly warranted confusion. “Uncle Dimmy…?” The inquiry rolled candidly off the dark elf’s tongue, not with anger, but pure surprise.
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