Reunion

[Adinirach Dalael]

For all his reservations when it came to people in general, Adinirach was genuinely excited about this particular rendezvous. He'd not seen the boy--man, now, perhaps--in some time, but what he'd heard about the younger Vysstichi was enough to make even his shriveled little heart swell with pride. After all, it wasn't often that one of his foundlings went on to make such a name for themselves, and Faust had done just that despite the odds that were generally stacked against their people.

When he'd sent his request to meet with him, he'd not held out much hope that the other would oblige him. After his rather sudden disappearance, he wouldn't have put it past any of his old friends to want much--if anything--to do with him. Needless to say, he'd been pleasantly surprised when Faust had accepted and even extended an invitation of his own, inviting the older man into his home.

Clad in some of his nicer things, he'd set out with a little time to spare to find his "nephew's" home. The city of Vortex was not one he was familiar with, but he found his way with little trouble, his pace leisurely as he took a moment here and there to learn the lay of the land. It paid to be prepared, and if there was one thing he'd learned in all his years, it was that one could never go wrong in being familiar with one's surroundings. It was refreshing to walk about, unmolested and in plain view of the public...then again, people were usually slightly deterred when anybody went flouncing about, clad in black and presumably armed to the teeth.

Upon arrival, he whistled softly, pale eyes sweeping over the mansion and it's grounds appreciatively. He'd expected something large, but perhaps not quite so grand. Then again, Faust's tastes always had tended towards the more extravagant, so far as he could remember, while he'd always strove to be as unremarkable as possible, choosing instead to remain out of the public eye and observe from the sidelines.

Undaunted, he continued on up the path to the door and, upon sighting the guards, slowed slightly and offered them a nod of greeting.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

The mansion exuded extravagance. A tall, spiked gothic gate bordered the expansive estate, fencing in a generously sized lawn. For reasons unknown, the gate was generally left open; it was typically speculated that no one was foolish enough to trespass. From the outside, a cobblestone path snaked its way towards the main building, and flanking it was a colorful garden composed of orchids, roses, and other common flowers.

The mansion itself was two-storied and complete with multiple windows currently covered by crimson drapes. A porch wrought of sturdy redwood wrapped around the base of the building, not only providing a leisure space for inhabitants to relax outside, but also a convenient awning for the multiple guardsmen that patrolled the premise. Indeed, several obsidian armored dark elves could be seen making their rounds. Two heavily armed Vysstichi manned the mansion’s great double doors at all times.

One of these, an incredibly large dark elf with shortly cropped white hair spiked upwards with a subterranean gel, approached Adinirach a short distance in front of the porch’s short series of steps. “Vendui,” the guardsman greeted with masterful pronunciation. Meeting the newly arrived dark elf’s stare, the sentry glanced Adinirach over while resting his hands comfortably at his belt –a long sword strapped to his right hip.

“Welcome to the D’Rinishad Manor. How can I help you?” the guardsman asked, his gaze never straying from Adinirach’s cloaked figure for more than a handful of seconds at a time. Considering the recent events in Vortex, the manor’s security had increased tenfold in recent brightenings.

Still, as it was not unusual for the manor to be receiving visitations from other dark elves, especially dark elves from Har'oloth's noble houses, the sentry’s tone remained stern but cordial.

OOC:Sorry for the short post!

[Adinirach Dalael]

When the larger of the guards approached him, he offered another nod, this one more of an abbreviated bow than anything else. His expression remained open, vaguely pleasant and ultimately empty of anything of real consequence; it offered nothing, and he seemed content to merely survey the guardsmen with the same blank start that he received in return.

Clearly, something he'd not heard of had happened, or there would not be quite so many guards. Then again, Faust could have turned suspicious and posted them all; it wasn't as though Vysstichi were known for their trusting, guileless nature. He was well armed himself, and he knew the company would be true and had little reason to suspect attack from any quarter. At each hip hung one of the custom blades he'd commissioned many cycles past, and he'd squirreled little things away on his person, putting the many hidden places in his dark leathers to good use.

"Vedui'," Adinirach replied finally, pleasantly surprised to hear his first language being spoken, even if it was by another dark elf. He supposed he was accustomed to some surface Vysstichi doing anything and everything possible to forget their heritage and try to blend in that he'd really ceased expecting one to use their mother tongue.

When the larger elf's hands came to rest comfortably at his belt, he was hard pressed to ignore the urge that rose in him, unbidden, to do the same. Gloved fingers clenched and unclenched convulsively at his sides beneath his charcoal grey cloak, and he was suddenly grateful they didn't creak with his every movement and give away his fidgeting.

"I have business with Faust D'Rinishad; you may tell him that Adinirach Dalael-D'Rinishad has arrived. I believe he was expecting me?"

[Faust D'Rinishad]

The armored dark elf silently met Adinirach’s stare for a long minute. Whether or not he believed the visitor’s claim was uncertain, but it was self-evident that he was seriously contemplating the matter. It was not every brightening that a visitor claimed affiliation to House D’Rinishad, the clan that each of the guardsmen personally belonged too. Of course they were familiar with the more notable figures such as Serion D’Rinishad, the clan’s patriarch, and young Kalenel who had recently trained under Har’oloth’s Prince, but no one by the name, “Adinirach,” had ever been mentioned –not to this sentry at least.

The guard’s pale lips opened to speak; however, before he could enunciate a response, another, strikingly boyish voice interjected from the doorway.

“Expecting you? I wouldn’t say that…” Leaning against the threshold, Faust D’Rinishad cut an unimpressive figure amidst the lavish backdrop of the mansion’s interior. He wore a streaming black cloak that fell past his knees, and its opened folds revealed a simple black tunic and matching pants that were tucked into the rims of his high brown boots – a wide smile appeared across his youthful visage.

“Hoping that your letter was for real, though, well, that would be a more accurate statement.” Chuckling mirthfully, the dark elf motioned for the sentry to stand down which he did with unvoiced deference. The soldier moved away, dismissing himself with a short bow that seemed more rehearsed than the young D’Rinishad’s trademark one.

Alighting the few steps to land in front of Adinirach, Faust stood significantly shorter than his outrageously tall guardian. “I can’t believe it’s you, Uncle. How long has it been?” There was no bitterness in the dark elf’s tone, only discernible relief. Although he had grown and matured drastically since their last association together, Adinirach Dalael was and forever would be his uncle.

Glancing the man over briefly, the dark elf grinned as he noticed the weaponry distributed about Adinirach’s form. “Not too long, I suppose. You haven’t changed much.” He lightheartedly said.

[Adinirach Dalael]

Doubt and disbelief were thinly veiled in the guard's expression, and the smaller Vysstichi sighed inwardly. The urge to roll his eyes or do something equally immature was there but ignored, and he simply stood his ground as the sentry seemed to struggle with the concept of visitors and whether or not they oughtn't be allowed on sheer principle.

When Faust's voice rang out, slightly deeper but still leaning towards boyishness, a grin stole across his lips, effectively cutting through the frosty disinterest he'd shown the guardsmen. He peeked around the brick wall of an elf and his grin grew wider still when his pale eyes fell upon the relatively diminutive figure of his adopted nephew.

"I highly doubt that anyone might impersonate me, but you never can be too sure, these days," he retorted, stepping around the sentry just enough to see the young man without craning his neck. He looked much the same as ever, thinner, perhaps, but untouched by age as was the wont of their people. White hair was still worn long, and his mode of dress clearly still favored the functional rather than the flashy, though his dark boots and leathers were clearly of fine quality and cut in a fashionable style; a grey cloak brushed the backs of his calves when the wind stirred it, revealing the occasional glimpse of the miniature armory he toted about on his person.

Though he was of slightly above average height for a human male, amongst other Vysstichi men he was tall enough to garner attention. It pleased him to see that Faust had grown, some, and he obviously bore his responsibilities well as his youthful exuberance seemed largely untouched. "Some years, now," he admitted with a faint grimace. "I apologize for disappearing unannounced. You know me, though.

"And once you get to be my age, you'll be glad to hear you look the same as you ever did. It's not so bad," the taller elf shrugged and grinned. He glanced down at himself and nodded, knowing full well that the youth knew of all his little secret hiding places.

"Can't teach an old dog new tricks, they say. You've grown, Faust...I take it all this suits you, too, as you look like the cat that caught the canary," he gestured around at the opulent mansion and it's sprawling grounds with a flip of his hand. "I'm glad to see you doing well for yourself. Tell me, how do you keep yourself occupied, these days?"

[Faust D'Rinishad]

Time had not diminished his uncle’s features or the languid quality that marked his demeanor. Faust noted all of this with latent approval. Prior to his absence, Adinirach Dalael had, to a great extent, been the younger dark elf’s mentor. He had taught Faust a whole lot about life, and those lessons continued to operate in his daily affairs. Of course, more than that, Adinirach was his uncle no matter how one looked at it. Theirs was not a relationship bred by obligation, but rather choice.

“Now that I think about it, everyone does seem to be a mystic these days,” Faust added with a sheepish smile. Although no one could imitate Adinirach (his disposition was far too particularized), it would not be a difficult task of assuming his form. Magic had ways of yielding the impossible. Luckily, though, Faust knew his uncle better than anyone. If there was one person who could perceive through the lie that a magical guise could induce, it was the young Prince.

Adinirach’s apology, albeit unnecessary, was accepted with grace. Faust purposely refrained from commenting on it. He was duly aware that life was unpredictable; it was demanding, impatient, and merciless. Life did not wait for one problem to end before casting another. Somewhere in the mix, Adinirach had likely undergone his share of trials. What mattered first and foremost, however, was that he had endured.

“Well, this mansion wasn’t always mine,” the dark elf replied shortly afterwards. Turning to the extravagant premise that surrounded him, Faust shrugged and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. “But I did get it for a good price.” He sighed faintly, deciding not to illuminate that the mansion’s previous owner had been slain by Faust’s own hand. The murdered man had been evil by all accounts, but superficial opulence, no matter how much the dark elf admired it, was not something in which he typically allocated his crowns.

“Other than tending to our family’s businesses in Vortex, life has not been so bad. There is this girl I’m interested in, but I don’t that anything will ever come about from it. How about you, uncle? Surely your past several patterns are writhe with tales. I would enjoy hearing about them.”

[Adinirach Dalael]

"Do they, now?" Adinirach remarked, obviously bemused. It was always interesting to note the patterns in behavior that people tended to exhibit (whether they knew it or not), and he wondered at what the next popular endeavor might be. Mysticism hadn't been quite so huge, the last he'd known. Hm. Pursuing an education in something of the like might not be a bad idea. "Fascinating stuff, magic."

When it became clear that Faust wasn't about to tan his hide for pulling a vanishing act, he relaxed minutely. The younger elf was one of his oldest and most trusted friends; knowing that he understood and that it was all just so much water under the proverbial bridge was an immense relief.

The boy's cryptic response as to how he'd come to own the mansion elicited a faint frown, nothing more than a slight furrowing of his brow. He could guess what the other meant by that, and Faust was a kind enough soul that he did not seem to relish such means, no matter how attractive the ends might be. Adinirach did not press for detail. Instead, he simply nodded and allowed the subject to be changed.

It was good to hear that his former charge had his head in the right place (mostly not up some girl's skirt, which was good enough for him at least) and knew enough to accept things that did not seem likely to change.

"Well, if something does, I'd very much like to meet her. I'm sure she's charming," he replied with a grin that might have been full of lechery, were it not for the mirthful gleam in his eye. Clearly, he took a wicked sort of pleasure in being able to rib the younger Vysstichi about such things. When it came time to discuss his own comings and goings, however, much of the amusement faded from his expression and he hitched slender shoulders in a would-be-casual little shrug. "As for me...mostly just a lot of wandering. Soul-searching. You know us old folk and our various crises associated with age. I was just looking forward to getting back to work with the family, perhaps some training. Something to pass the time. If you've any ideas, I'm all ears."

[Faust D'Rinishad]

“Charming is an understatement,” the dark elf grimly replied. Truly, Liselle Vampyler belonged to a class of her own. She was the most magnificent woman he’d ever met. Of course Viskyia had ranked among that list, but their relationship had ultimately amounted to nothing more than nominal at best. Faust blamed himself solely for that, but then again he could never have expected Liselle to surge back into his life after months, no, years, of obstinate devotion to her family and occupation.

There would a time to explain everything to his uncle, but that time was not now. Faust was more interested in learning where Adinirach had been prior to his long anticipated return. It wasn’t ever brightening that his Uncle was in town, and the young prince had no intention of swamping him with melodrama that was, at best, out of his control.

Adinirach’s languid response elicited a grin from the dark elf. Ever the enigma, his Uncle’s response had literally disclosed nothing to his young nephew. Faust didn’t mind, though. He was accustomed to Adinirach’s calm demeanor, something that oftentimes balanced him as far as personalities went. In any case, the dark elf supposed that if anything interesting had happened to Adinirach, his uncle would eventually tell him about it.

“Did you find what you were searching for, Uncle?” the dark elf asked later, meeting the taller Vysstichi’s gaze with an inquisitive one of his own. Soul-searching. That wasn’t a foreign concept, but it was nevertheless an ambiguous one. Still, Faust hoped that his uncle’s days of aimless wandering were at its end.

The House needed him.

At the reference to training, the dark elf’s left brow arched slightly. “Training? Did you have anything specific in mind? Perhaps I could help you?” He offered.

[Adinirach Dalael]

Faust was smitten, that much was obvious. Or perhaps smitten was the wrong word, if the grim tone was anything to go on. His background meant that he was always cautious of females, regardless of their race. While it was true he didn't know the girl--woman, he corrected himself--he hoped that his adopted nephew would proceed with caution.

Ah, well. Young love. He'd not press or pester for information that the younger man didn't wish to share with him. Changing the subject happened to be one of the things he was quite adept at, anyhow, and when his vague response as to his own whereabouts earned a grin, he felt one corner of his mouth twitching, the urge to smirk back overtaking him swiftly.

"Perhaps. Time will tell," he murmured, allowing his gaze to skitter away for a moment. Adinirach didn't intend to be so obscure, but at the same time, the question was one he wasn't sure he could answer yet. When his feline eyes met Faust's once again, they were full of apology and perhaps a hint of something far more elusive. It was gone in an instant, and the mask had slid back into place. One thing certainly remained true, the older Vysstichi didn't let much out, though often times it was more habit than anything else. Many simply assumed him to be paranoid or mad...and perhaps they weren't far off the mark, but there was usually more to him than met the eye, and certainly more than he let on. "I'll let you know when I do."

Subconsciously, he mirrored the boy's expression, arching one brow. "Nothing specific. I'd appreciate the help very much. I'd say I'm looking to hone the skills I already possess, and I'm very much willing to learn whatever will help the Family. If you can't help directly, I'm sure you know more than a handful of useful sorts, no?"

[Faust D'Rinishad]

Dark elves were elusive by nature, and Adinirach was no exception. Faust met his uncle’s gaze with latent curiosity, and he finally decided not to press the issue further. Whatever had preoccupied Adinirach for the past several years was over now, or at least, enough closure had been provided to return the older dark elf back to his family. Adinirach was back and that was all that mattered.

It was oftentimes said that family was family regardless of time and distance. In many ways this described Faust’s perception of House D’Rinishad. He had not seen Serion in cycles, Dimnersti in eras, and Adinirach in patterns, and yet, had any one of them called him at any time for help, he would have arrived within the blink of an eye.

Deciding not to ask Adinirach any more questions about his absence, the dark elf instead considered the matter of his uncle’s expressed desire to sharpen his skills. Adinirach had always been one of the stronger D’Rinishads, a position that naturally entitled him to being a teacher rather than a student. Subsequently, the young prince wondered how much more Adinirach could possibly learn –if anything at all.

“Well, you were always really good with a sword and your fists. Perhaps these would good places to start? If not, I'm sure that we could find someone who could help you with what you're looking for,” Faust said with a knowing smile. He remembered both the times when he, Adinirach, and Ebony had crossed paths with the pathological elf on the streets of Imperia and also the tavern brawl that he and Adinirach had participated in with Serion in Primus Gaudeo. If memory served correctly, Adinirach had broken his nose during the latter fiasco.