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A reserved man even among the drow, Urlryn fit right in with his current enviroment. He looked right and home and comfortable writing in his lap, using a book as a press.

He ignored the rain. It was an nuisance, the rain. He had pots and cups catching every drip in the place. They secured this place. It was the largest in this camp, all because of his healing abilities. He made battles last longer and for many orcs here that was important. He was their Little Medicine Man.

Spending a month in this place had not changed him. He was stronger, buffer, faster, but the grace of Vhaeraun came slower. The spells more difficult to learn. He saw his Masked Lord in dreams but he was so distant and silent. He never did acheive peace of mind. Company made that difficult, he was a loner by nature. There were no books here, so he had to make them.

Orcs were stupid, but they did like his stories of Vhaeraun.

He heard Alya and bid her come in. He gave her a nod, studying her. He said nothing as she opened her pack but did offer her his flask of blessed water. She handed him the book and he chuckled softly. In the weeks they had been together he could see why Alakas was taken with her. Beauty and brains. Yet no interest sparked his manly instincts.

"Thank you Alya, I shall treasure this." He put his hand on her white crown and blessed her.

It was then that Nathvas came in and Urlryn shook his head with a faint smile. "Not at all, do sit Nathvas," he stood up to offer his seat.

He moved to light a candle to hide his worry. The way these two bickered assured him he had made the right decision not to mate and produce children. They were like children themselves and it taxed his patience, the rain would only spark tension.

He brought the candle over to Alya and looked at her. "Let me see your wound. How many times have I told you to stay undercover if you have to go out alone?" he chided gently, like a father.

Since being brought here he appreciated things more and the more he knew these two he vowed to himself that if he got out of here alive and back to the Tower that he would get to know all the children of the church. That included Xull'rae. He never in all her years there, ever tried to get to know her. It was said she was youngest in the Tower and yet she seemed so much older than his two companions. She alone, showed him in the here and now he still had a lot to learn and it humbled him. He was middle aged and teaching these young ones, but they in turn were teaching him. Yet despite this learning, what had they accomplished?

This question he had debated over since they came here. And the answer, he knew would send them home. Like so many times before Urlryn became lost in thought.

"Ask away Nathvas," Urlryn said. He uttered a phrase and his hands glowed softly in a golden aura, then he touched Alya's wound and it went away followed by a refreshing feeling of renewal.

Capable hands then began probing Alya's body starting at the neck and worked downward, seeing if he could find pain spots that needed looking at that she did not tell him about. It was a simple yet thouough routine.

As he listened to Nathvas and his hands examined Alya, his red eyes glanced over at the hourglass on the small shelf. It was almost prayer time. A month of unanswered questions. His prayers were heard, he knew this because his spells were constantly restored to him but anything asked about escape was hung in the air. Still he was relentless in asking. They had not died yet, but the second month would be here soon. Another notch to add on the wall.

He smiled at Alya briefly and then turned to look at Nathvas.

Useful advice from both, now will it be put to use?"

He regarded Alya and responded quietly. "If there was an answer of escape outside, we would have found it by now."

He looked down at his hands that had became callous with weilding his short sword, after a moment of silence. "We are being tested, for what, that is not known yet. Escape lies in a teleport out of here. Yet as Nathvas may have gathered any attempts of any magical means of making a portal is denied or immediately fizzles. We are being kept here. We will train, pray, and wait."

He smiled ruefully, "allies we shall be out of neccessity, but allies out of want, that will take time."

Urlryn sat on his legs and arched his back and closed his eyes. "Faith is not something that is taught. It is something you have already in you. It is hope and is instinct. Logic can give reasons for things but faith can make the extraordinary happen. Gods are the beings that expand our goals especially when they are the same.
The Vharaunian faith was formed in -18,000 Dell Reckoning, but dark elves or Ilythiiri as we were called back then, did not begin open worship until the Fourth Crown War began some 3,550 years later in -14,350 Dell Reckoning. However Lolth was still the key deity in the wars as well as the major goddess to have the Dark Elves, this was because Eilistraee intervened in the Masked Lords plan."
Urlryn shook his head. "I believe our goal would have been different if the Great Lord kept the upper hand, but Lolth twisted us and out of hatred for her husband abused the men under her rule. It is Vhaeraun who still fights for the equality of the sexes and the return to the surface."

He says a prayer and bows his head, then opens his red eyes to see if the two were listening, waiting for questions.

Urlryn sighed and picked himself wearily off the floor to pull his alter case from under his cot. He began setting up so that he may refresh his spells. He had another very long night ahead. He was beginning to hate the fact that orcs were nocturnal creatures and did all there battles in the dark.

Ressurection was at every sunset and battles began shortly after true nightfall arrived. This always wore him out. He had to assist them. He was always in need to pray when the ressurections were made because that is the time to pray to Vhaeraun was at dusk.

However vhaeraunian activities were always done in the nightly hours and their constantly battling never gave time for such, and sleep was rare as well. He was always interrupted and all but dragged to the wounded while still groggy.

He glanced out of the window after he finished setting up his minuature alter. There was no sun today amongst the thunderclouds, and his hour glass had run out while talking to the two drowlings. He was late for his prayer rituals. He could feel and see magical lights brighten the skies with harsh streaks of color and soft aura's. The ressurections had already started. The sun had already set.

Urlryn lit the braziers, waiting for the black bowl to heat up before setting a magical dagger he had won off an orc from yesterday's battle on the side to melt down for the nights offering.

He couldn't place how he knew, but he had the feeling Nathvas and Alya were going to add to his exhaustion this night. They had no idea how hard he worked. While Alya scouted on her breals and Natvas studied alone on his, Urlryn was always on the field. This was the first time in two weeks he had a little time to himself and he had spent it making a journal.

He began to pray...pray for the rain to stop.