05-08-2011, 07:04 AM
He had scented the magic before he had felt the tickle of it on his skin. Even before he had heard the whispered words of his deity in his ear and mind. A storm raged, but that did not deter him. His quest, for the moment was a simple one. To watch and see what was happening. First, though, he needed to locate the source. Even being able to smell and feel the magic didn't make it extremely easy to find the source. He had to be close already though or he would not have been able to scent it. The smell of magic, like most scents, carried only so far, and the wind of the storm was tossing it about coupled with the scent of the rain really did not make such things easy.
A long black cloak swirled around his legs as he moved, urged about by the wind and the movement of his long legs. Once the material had nearly tripped him as it tangled about his legs and caught his foot as he took a step. He had regained his footing quickly, though just barely managing to not fall. The scent of magic, the feel of it on his skin, slowly began to grow stronger, indicating he was indeed moving in the right direction. The hood of his cloak was pulled up over his head, and it's shadow hid his face well. Almost too well. A flickering up ahead suggested to him that torches had been lit, and he assumed that whoever was casting whatever spell, was doing it near said torches.
The man stopped, as soon as he was close enough for things to come into view. Not extremely close and unnoticeable by the woman caught up in her spell. Or, rather, it seemed to him like a ritual. Long legs bent as he crouched, watching and listening as the woman worked her magic. He remained there. Watching even when the spell casting was done and the woman had collapsed. When the sun rose and the woman finally awoke, he was still there. Patiently watching as she moved about. Judging by her actions he assumed her ritual had been successful.
When she began to move off, with clothes in hand, he followed. Staying far enough behind so that she was barely just at the edge of his sight. Not yet ready for her to see him. Patiently he waited as the female bathed in the pool, and when she finally rested upon a rock he came a bit closer. Cautiously he moved gently, his footsteps light, he moved with the grace of an elf, or other creature of elven kind. Coming to the bank, he crouched there. Watching, waiting for the woman to awaken again.
He had tossed back the hood of his cloak. His features exposed for the world to see, or rather, the female when she awoke and noticed him. Red hair that reached down to his ankles laid down his back in a tight braid, most of it coiled in the hood resting at the back of his neck, leaving a long tail of the red hair to snake down his cloak. Hiding most of it from view. His eyes were intense, vibrant purple that seemed to shimmer and shine a bit. His skin was a bit pale, his features sharp and graceful like an elf or elven kind. His ears came to elegant points, though longer than any elf's.
This man was neither elf or human. His race was of elvenkind, and in fact elves were descended from his race. This man was Eladrin. He was one of few, once there had been many but now they were a dying race. His hair, eye color and the paleness of his skin were not common among his kind, he had become tainted by the magic he wielded and the god he served. Now this creature of magic and fey blood crouched there at the waters edge. Waiting, and not at all certain of what he should do when the female did notice him.
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