"Into the Eye of the Storm"

Okay, this story takes place right after where we left off on Sunday, in Luna Village and the Inn of the Cracked Pitcher!

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Damn them all!

Kestiel shivered as the bath water began to cool, taking a moment to generate just enough magical heat to warm it up again. As steam rolled up around her from the surface of the water, the beautiful half-elf reclined in the small wooden tub, trying her hardest to get comfortable. This wasn’t the worst bath that she’d ever had, but it certainly wasn’t the best, and old memories of the plush, luxurious bathhouses back at the Academia Arcana caused her to feel a brief stab of regret at ever having left there.

No, I have no regrets, not really, she chided herself, recalling the mental and emotional abuse that she’d endured there, and the lessons of a style of magic completely unsuited to her that had been forced upon her. The instructors there should have been familiar enough with sorcery to have detected the power within her, though they continued to let her think that she was meant to be a simple wizard, and as time passed, and she was unable to absorb the lessons that they taught, Kestiel had simply left. At the time, she had felt like a total failure, and she was certain then that she would never be the powerful practitioner of the arts that she had dreamed of.

Leaving the Academia was one of the best decisions I ever made, Kestiel silently told herself. Absently, the auburn-haired woman ran her fingers along the deep red, dragon-shaped tattoo that had been magically etched into the skin of her chest, across her left breast and up to her collar-bone. Seeking out Shai-Hulud and learning his secrets… Who knows where I’d be now, what I’d be doing, if I’d remained at the Academia Arcana? Closing her eyes, Kestiel attempted once again to relax.

As she shifted position, she cried out at the hot pain that coursed through her right shoulder. She clenched her teeth, cursing the mysterious old man that had bestowed the demonic Mark upon her. At first, she had accepted the pain that came with it, certain that eventually it would fade and be forgotten. It was quite the opposite, however, as the dull, throbbing pain had evolved over the passing weeks into what could only be described as fiery agony. She let out a short, bitter laugh at the irony of the situation, that she―who could walk nearly unscathed through a roaring inferno―should feel such blazing torture from the Mark that marred her shoulder, pulsing with a low, disconcerting red light.

From below, in the common room, she could hear the slight buzz of her companions’ conversation. How their very presence irritated her! At once she found herself tensing up again, and she decided that trying to relax with them chattering away below her simply wasn’t going to happen. She stood up in the small wooden tub, letting the warm water run down her body before bending down and retrieving the coarse towel from where it sat on the floor beside the tub. After drying and clothing herself, Kestiel called out for Markus.

“Yes?” he asked as he entered the room, his hand resting upon the hilt of his sword as always.

Kestiel gestured toward the tub, saying, “Remove this, please. I have no more use for it.” She turned her back on him, staring with disdain at her red dragonling familiar as it slumbered peacefully and obliviously on her bed. As she heard Markus lifting up the tub―water and all―Kestiel surprised herself when she looked back at him over her shoulder and said, “Markus… Thank you.” If the taciturn goliath was equally surprised by this he hid it well, simply nodding once and leaving the room with the wooden tub.

Kestiel returned her attention to her familiar. Seeing the tiny creature lying there irritated her. Those fools below had taken to calling it “Ash,” as if such a magically-created thing deserved a name. She sent a mental jolt through the unseen tether that bound them, and as the dragonling snapped awake Kestiel gestured for it to come and perch lightly upon her right shoulder.

“I feel the need for fresh air,” she told it as she gathered up her pack and slung it over her other shoulder. “And, I think, a walk beneath the stars as well.”

As she prepared to leave her room, the sorceress paused, her large blue eyes flicking momentarily to her travel pack. There it is again, she thought, that unusual magical signature that’s been bothering me for all of these weeks. She knew that the strange arcane feeling was being given off by the featureless, opaque sphere that she’d received from the infuriating old man in the bowels of the manor house at Port Pence. According to him, if you dwelt long and hard on something that you wanted―within reason―you could go to sleep one night and awake to find that the sphere had, in fact, become the very item that you’d been longing for. For some reason, Kestiel had refused to do this, perhaps because she didn’t trust the old man, and perhaps because she simply didn’t want a gift from someone who would just as soon have left her to rot in a cell beneath Port Pence as give her anything.

Reaching into her pack, Kestiel removed the magical globe, raising it up to stare at it long and hard. She felt a rage welling up within her when she thought about the stab of fear―of abandonment―that she’d experienced when it had looked like her party of would-be allies had forsaken her, leaving her forever trapped in that cell all because some tiny old stranger had told them lies about her. Her fingers clenched tighter around the object as she recalled the shame that she’d felt when it had come down to a vote…

A damn vote! She thought vehemently. Not a single one of them was brave enough to simply voice their decision either, no! They had to rely on the old man’s arts to hide their decisions from me, from my wrath! Kestiel could feel her skin beginning to burn red as it sometimes did when she was under great emotional stress. Hot tears rolled down her face only to evaporate soon after as she thought, They were supposed to be my comrades, my allies! And instead of standing up for me, they put my fate in the hands of a stranger!

Suddenly, without thought, Kestiel threw the sphere to the floor at her feet, watching with detached fascination as it shattered into thousands of tinkling pieces. A flash of blue light accompanied the destruction, accompanied by a slightly acrid smell and a puff of smoke. She simply stood there for several moments, her eyes locked on the fragments of the smashed globe, a small smile upon her lips. She felt better now, for some reason, with that constant reminder of the old man gone forever. She stepped over the mess and left the room, making her way toward the stairs and, in turn, the common room below.

The low murmur of her companions’ conversation ceased when she strode across the room, heading toward the door that would take her outside, away from their judgmental stares and scornful words. She wondered for a brief moment if, perhaps, they’d been talking about her, and she seethed when she realized that such a thought had hurt her. Shoving aside her worries, the half-elf dragon mage made her way to the door, ignoring the single voice from among the party that called out to her.

Stepping outside into the cool night air, Kestiel immediately breathed a deep sigh of relief, ignoring her foolish familiar as it mimicked her and did the same, as if it truly needed to breathe at all. Her relief was short lived, however, for as she made her way through the small village, away from the inn, she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She paused, looking back over her shoulder at the one who followed.

“Well?” she asked, not even bothering to hide the hint of annoyance that colored that single word. “What do you want?”

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Okay, I'm leaving this one open ended, so feel free to jump in, anyone!

“Well?” she asked, not even bothering to hide the hint of annoyance that colored that single word. “What do you want?”
A smirk already lay slyly over Palos face. With a lightning fast withdrawal of his ivory violin he slowly drew bow. Just like a bard to tell the truth through song. Keistiel thought to herself. Palo began to play a lonesome solo, but soon invisible percussion jumped forth turning Kestiel on her heels to watch.



It is through me you create terrible things.
Palo stops playing and takes a few steps closer to the beautiful half-elf. “I can only know what’s wrong if you let me.” She paused for a moment taking time to collect her thoughts. “Why do you care? I don’t see how I can trust any of you.” Palo sighed “Don’t you understand how important you are to me?” Kestiel looked shocked as Palo continued “You are the only one capable of being my Empires. Can’t you feel how Elaria needs you?” she mouthed the words he spoke Elaria needs you. “You’re so convinced Bard how do you know any of this?” Palo smiled and with one word answered her “Alayah.”
Palo had sensed her words before she spoke them “My sister. Often she would tell me stories of our ancestors. She had lived as all of them recalling even the most ancient of Fey beings. She told me from their knowledge she could see fragments of the future, but when she did she lost herself. Tapped under layers of consciousness others would often take hold.” Kestiel looked past him and Palo could feel his approach. “I am your closest ally always.” Palo turned with a drunken smile and yelled out. “Ah, I’m glad I’m not the only one to chase after this pretty lady.” And stumbled back towards the inn.

The warforged stood behind her, his spear strapped to his back underneath his cloak. "Is something upsetting you, Kestiel?", he asked, slowly taking a step forward. She snarled, crossing her arms over her chest without so much as glancing back at him. "And why would something be wrong?" "Well, considering how you walked out of the inn in a huff... you seemed to be on the verge of tears-" Suddenly, Kestiel turned to face him, shooting him a wicked glare. "You were all going to leave me down there!", she yelled accusingly. Dragonar was taken a back. "Kestiel..." "You would all rather be rid of me, wouldn't you!? You all just can't stand me!" "Kestiel-", he said more sternly before he was interrupted again. "Well? It's true, isn't-" WHAP!, went Dragonar's hand across her cheek, though it was a light, open-handed smack, intended to grasp her attention more than anything. "Enough." Kestiel was in shock, her left hand slowly moving up to her cheek. A feeling of betrayal was starting to seep in, but before she could voice her opinion, the warforged spoke up. "For one, if it means anything, I was all for taking you and Markus with us. And this was before the old man decided we vote for it." Kestiel actually closed her mouth before saying anything, her attention focused on him. When he knew she would listen now, Dragonar took a deep breath (well, a sighing motion really considering he doesn't breathe) and continued speaking. "And yes, I will be the first to admit that you're difficult to be around at times. However..." Kestiel glanced away for a moment, grimacing and shifting her body away from him slightly. "However...?", she asked, glancing back towards him and raising a brow. Dragonar gently reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder. "However, I understand how valuable you are to the group. And despite how bossy you are, or how argumentative or crabby..." "I get it!", Kestiel said turning away more, her back to him again. Dragonar realizes he may have gone too far, then clears his throat. "Despite all of those traits... I know deep down you're not so bad. And I already said to you earlier I'm putting my complete faith in you, didn't I?" There was a long silence after that, Kestiel unsure of what to say next.

After a long moment of thinking, Kestiel turned back towards the construct, a soft expression on her face. "Who are you?" "Pardon?", Dragonar queried. "Ah... I know its a weird question, but... you seem different. Like a completely different person. Different from the..." she paused for a moment, grinning up towards him. "Disobedient, silent, jump-happy..." "I get it.", Dragonar blurted out, but with a slight chuckle. Kestiel couldn't help but laugh herself before resuming. "The warforged we met long ago. Just... who are you now?" Dragonar, turned his head away, seeming to think about this. He then turned his back towards her, proceeding to take a few steps away from her before stopping again. "At the moment... I am merely an observer of history." Dragonar resumed walking, deciding to leave her to her thoughts for now, confident she was feeling better... even a little.

OOC: D'oh! I'll just go ahead and remove this later when I have a quick moment...

It could work there Robert I left it open for one more person to come in i would say leave it. Its very open about whom you've become I like it.

(Oh! I missed the part where you did leave it open. XD Okay, thank you Victor, you saved me a lot of trouble.

No problem citizen thats why hero's like me were born!

"Nice to see I'm not the only one who cares for you."
Kestiel turns to see Markus leaning against a nearby building, smileing smugly at her.

"How in the nine hells did you sneak up on me, Markus" she grimaced, eyeing him warily.

"It's in the commanders handbook, "How to sneak up on subordants and allys" a very nice read."

"Did you have anything meaningful to tell me Markus?"

"Only that I worry when you go out alone."

((Posting through Burnicus only because I'm having a difficult time setting up a secondary account...))

Grindel sat watching the fire intently, eyes slightly glazed from the drink or perhaps he'd simply gone elsewhere in spirit. 'Elsewhere' always meant the Feywild for the gnome, a place he missed more than anything. It was the place from which he drew the power which had just stifled one who served the dragon Shai-Hulud. He'd never thought much of the power which was so natural to him, to bend magic as if it were but a plaything in his hands. Now, knowing what he knew... things were swiftly changing...

After what he termed his 'escape' from the Feywild to lands that were more profitable, Grindel had been making his way through life with nimble fingers and a clever mind. His wits often got him out of situations that his agility could not and if all else failed... he could always use his magic. The power he wielded was often designed to mislead and distract though if he bent it just right, he could easily wield destruction.

It was on his past that he brooded as the fire crackled before him and reflected in his ebony eyes. The pact that he'd made with the secret beings which rule the Fey and which subtly guided his journeys from afar took up most of his mind. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut and he began to search for the slender thread that connected him to his pact being.

Greetings, young one... The voice was faint but loud enough to understand. Why do you search for my voice?

It seems you've been molding me for this moment and I'd like to know what you would have me do.

Ah, you have met them then? Good, good...

A long moment of silence passed until, That isn't the answer I was looking for.

Odd... I don't remember telling you that you'd ever get answers... Some mild chuckling flowed through the thread and then silence fell once more.

Who am I to trust then? Hmm? Who? Even the walking knick-knack seems to have agendas under agendas.

Yourself... He felt the string 'twang' as the connection was severed. His eyes slowly opened only to see the quiet and rather stupid elfling female who wielded the metal circle thingys. A brow raised as he observed the elf and slowly he rose to approach her. Taking a deep breath, he smiled slightly and nodded saying, "We got off to a bad start, mostly your fault for not listening to me, yet I feel I should at least know your take on all this. You seem to say far less than you think." Taking a seat beside her, he took a quick swig of his wine while the dark orbs he used for sight watched her.

Tierryn stared into the fire, her thoughts as tumultuous as the dancing flames before her.

The ancient warrior watched the red-haired source of her dilemma appear down the stairs and flounce haughtily out the door, closely followed by half of her current companions. Well, not her companions. Not since Torinn had fallen... The elf clenched her eyes shut against the sudden burning and grabbed a tight hold on her emotions. There were too many here who could use them against her, and wouldn’t hesitate to do so. She had given her friend his last rights, at least, before they had left that accursed village. She could mourn in private later, once her mission had come to an end.

For all the good it will do now, she thought bitterly. I should never have thrown my lot in with these lunatics. I should have headed straight for the capitol when I had the chance. Now I’ve lost a full month, and the army waits at the gates of the elven realm like a pack of slavering hellhounds while I sit here under the eye of my greatest enemy’s plaything. I knew she couldn’t be trusted, no matter how soft her benefactor’s become. I should have voted to leave her in that cell to rot, or killed her that first night and had done with it. Speaking of which…

:Isis, would you please keep an eye on the unpleasant one and her suitor while they’re out there?: she asked the falcon, waking her from a light doze. The raptor blinked a moment, then looked about, finally focusing on Kestiel and Palo as they spoke softly to one another.

:Sure, sure,: the bird replied, stretching her wings as she prepared to launch herself into the air.

:Stay out of their sight, though, no matter what, or you’ll end up with your goose cooked.:

The falcon paused and ruffled her feathers at the comparison to an ungainly waterfowl, hopping from one foot to the other.

:Easy love,: Tierryn soothed her. :I just don’t want you to end up with your feathers singed, or worse,: she said, projecting an image of the last fireball Kestiel had caused in a fit of ill temper. She followed this with an image of a game bird, spitted and roasting over an open flame. The kestrel whistled in irritation and clacked her beak.

:Not stupid like duck, either. Duck deserve be roasted. Fly in straight lines. Easy target. Easy meal. Like to see fire-lady try hit me.: She clicked her beak again and launched herself silently from her perch, unfurling her wings and winding easily through the canopy. She threw in a few showy barrel rolls and twisting course changes to prove her point before settling onto a limb much closer to her target. :Not worry about me.:

:Sorry, love,: Tierryn apologized, hiding a smile. :I’ll never doubt you again.:

The falcon chirred and focused on the couple below as the elf withdrew her mental touch and quaffed her drink. Finding herself alone in her head once more, her eyes were drawn inexorably back to the fireplace as her mind was drawn back to the troubling thoughts of a moment ago. Before she had decided to approach this mismatched group, she had been sure that Kestiel wasn’t acting under her benefactor’s commands, nor acting to bring the chromatics in general back into power. But now… How could she possibly think that calling Shai-Huluud back into the world would make things better after all that had come to pass? With a sigh of exasperation, the ranger plunked her half-empty mug on the table and was preparing to turn in for the night when movement from across the room caught her attention. She watched as the mysterious gnome approached and waved for him to join her.

"We seem to have gotten off to a bad start,” he said, sipping his wine. “Mostly your fault for not listening to me. Yet I feel I should at least know your take on all this. You seem to say far less than you think."

“With companions like these, can you blame me for keeping my own council?” she asked pointedly, quirking an eyebrow as her lips twisted in a cynical smile. “I think I’ve aged more in the last month than I have in the last millennium,” she said, rubbing her eyes with one hand. “I don’t know what your interest is in traveling with us, but if you have any sense at all, you and you’re jeweled friend should leave while you can. I’m not sure myself how I’ve survived this long,” she joked, grinning to take any sense of threat from her words. But while the threat was removed, the warning remained.

Palo left Keistiel with thoughts of his sister still fresh in his mind. The inn doors still seemed so far away and his memories weighed down his feet. With each step the world around him changed, and shifted he was soon back at the orchard Alayah was there standing in front of him. “There you are brother.” Palo was frozen. What could this be? Palo thought to himself. “Silly it’s me I have to tell you something very important.” She took Palos hands her touch was cold and soon his fingers began to tingle. “It is you who will rule, and not our ancestors. You must go home Palo.” Suddenly a black mist began to raise from Palos shoulders. “Alayah!” the mist surrounded her and engulfed her very being. A tall dark man now stood in front of him. “Kneel!” Palo obeyed the command without thinking. The power of the voice Palo thought Grandfather, no. “You know what you must do. Help her release her power, rule this world. Enforce my prophecy. I must continue.” Palo looked up at his dark master “I must destroy you.” Laughter erupted as the man turned to smoke and forced itself back inside of Palo. “How do you destroy what lies within?”
Palo rose from his knees and stumbled towards the inn. Who can I trust if I can’t even trust myself? I couldn’t protect Alayah from herself can I protect Keistiel from herself? What did Alayah mean go home to where? As Palo pushed through the doors of the inn his perception noticed Grindel talking with Tierryn Palo made his approach catching only the last half of a conversation. “I’m not sure myself how I’ve survived this long,” Tierryn said with a chuckle. Palo but in head first “We have had a bit of adventure haven’t we.” Tierryn scoffed “yeah, that’s putting it lightly!” Palo turned to Grindel with a bow of the head he said. “Quite sorry to interrupt the booze loosens my tongue. I hate to be alone in my thoughts could I join you two.” Ending his query looking into Tierryn’s eyes.

OOC: This post is a co-op post written by Viktor and me. We both worked equally on it, and thus we will be splitting the XP evenly.


"I doubt I could stop you if I wanted to," Tierryn replied with a guarded smile.

"Well that’s true. When I have something to say, I usually say it," Palo replied with a slight laugh.

Grindell snorted, covering the rude sound with a sip of his wine.

Palo looked back at Tierryn. "I had a vision tonight. I'm not sure what it means, but I feel its influence, and I have no idea who I can trust." The bard took another drink from the bottle, leveling a measuring gaze at her over the rim. "You seem pretty level headed, and from what I can sense, you’re the most sane of the group. I think I need your help."

Tierryn’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the fellow elf’s frank statement. For a moment, she merely dismissed his words as drunken ramblings, or another ploy to try to control her actions. After a moment, however, the ranger was surprised to discover that she felt a sense of openness and earnestness that she usually found lacking in the ambitious bard. Her brow furrowed for a moment as she studied him, and then she burst out laughing.

“I think you’ve had entirely too much to drink, my friend. You’re having one of your drunken hallucinations again. Let me help you back to your room; you remember what happened at the last inn when you said you could make it on your own. I don’t think that poor scullery maid will ever recover.” She shook her head in bemusement, but her eyes lingered significantly on his for just a moment before she turned to the gnome. “If you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time for Palo to call it a night. I thank you for your company, and if I’m not back down in a little while, then I’ll see you on the morrow.”

"I swear I'm not as think as you drunk I am!" Palo slurred with a laugh, and he stood up, offering Tierryn his arm. "Good night Grindell, and do try to keep out of Kestiels way tonight; I wouldn’t want to awake to an angry red dragon!" Palo said, erupting into laughter.

Tierryn shook her head again and stood as well, bracing Palo’s offered arm as he swayed convincingly. Together the two made their way haltingly to the stairs, disappearing gradually from sight. Once sure that no one would see them, Tierryn dropped the bard’s arm and headed quickly for his room, making no more noise than a leaf upon the wind. She opened the latch, holding it for her companion as Palo entered before following him in. Turning to look at him, she raised an eyebrow questioningly, leaning against the door and keeping an ear turned for any noise in the hall.

“Well,” she said, “let’s have it, then.”

"Right, well at first I could see my sister. I walked through this world and into another. She took my hands and... I could feel her. She told me I had to go home, but I haven't had a home in ages. I'm not sure where she wants me to go." Palo paused, hesitant to tell her what happened next. "How do you kill what lies within?" Palo finally asked, very softly, taking a seat on the bed.

"There was someone else in my vision," he said suddenly, a chill coming over him. Palo had barely finished speaking when an invisible wind blew his white hair back. In a voice slightly unlike his own, Palo slowly spoke as if in a daze. "My Empire will be built; none of you will stop me."

Tierryn’s blood ran cold at the alarming change in her companion. A sinister note suddenly underscored the bard’s words as he spoke the last, and her hand went instinctively to the weapon at her hip. She reached tentatively toward him with her Other-sense, noting a drastic shift in his emotions. A cruel, domineering presence suddenly filled her awareness, and she quickly wrenched her mind away, a chill running through her to the bone. She bolstered her shields with a thought, her eyes riveted to the vacant-eyed elf before her.

“Palo?” she asked tentatively, unsure what to expect.

“Palo? Ah that’s right he does share my name.”

The bard stood, brushing back his coat tails and turning with very controlled motions. A sinister smile bled across his face now.

"Who knew it would be you that I must remove?" The man’s hand slowly reached for his short sword. "I didn’t expect this to happen so soon, but his tongue is weak, and so is his mind this time.”

Tierryn’s eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" she snarled, gripping her chakram more tightly and crouching into a fighting stance.

The elf merely let out a dark laugh.

After having spoken to Kestiel, Dragonar wandered off, heading into some nearby woods. As he stepped past the trees that decorated the forest, the only sounds that could be heard where the various creatures of the night, and the snapping of leaves and branches under his heavy feet. Dragonar soon came to a tall tree, looking up at it. His fists clenched, shaking slightly before the warforged proceeded to plant his fist firmly into the tree before him. "GrrrraaAAAAAHHH!", he shouted out in frustration as his fist made contact with the wood, splinters flying everywhere. Why!?, he thought to himself. Why do I feel I need to be nice to her right now? I can't stand her, or that filthy goliath! Every waking moment I spend with them makes me want to puke! Dragonar would be clenching his teeth in anger if he could, but alas, he had none. He raised the hand that currently wasn't embedded into a tree, unsheathing the longsword that was tucked away inside, and as he pulled his first hand away, he proceeded to slash at the tree in front of him repeatedly. I honestly don't know why, but I'm seriously regretting choosing to bring the along! What a fool I am! He continued to hack away at the tree in front of him. Eventually he stops, retracting his sword back into his arm. And yet... and yet I know how powerful they are, how valuable they can be to our cause. I feel disgusting for... deceiving Kestiel like that, but if I can earn both her and Markus' trust, then I can at least keep an eye on them. Further more, I can make certain Kestiel won't summon that dragon. He looked down at his hands, tilting his head. And yet... if she does summon that dragon, would that prove that the rest of us are simply not capable of carrying out this task on our own as we intended to do? Despite how I feel about her, if she summons that dragon because we turn out to be incompetent to carry out our task, then perhaps she's earned the right to. He turned away from the tree, proceeding to head back towards the inn. Still... I try so hard to get along with them, but something inside me tells me I should do otherwise. Something about them... but for now I'll bide my time and keep an eye on them. As they say, keep your friends close... and your enemies closer...

Watching the pair sweep away with a wry smile, as if showing he knew what they REALLY meant to do in a drunken haze, Grindel simply leaned against the mantle and watched the room. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he was gone from sight, though with a line of blood oozing from his wrist. One, who was terribly observant, would notice the many scars that had built up in that particular spot from repeated use of this tactic. In his invisible state, he stalked as quietly as he could to just outside the room where the two elves spoke.

Damn longshanks anyway... keeping secrets from me... they've no idea of my resourcefu-- what the hells is that?

He could sense the difference in the room almost immediately. Though the bardic magic was still there, it had shifted in power and perhaps... alignment? Confusion swept over him for a moment until a wry smile formed on his face.

Hmm... I suppose I've two choices here... one... stay out of it. OR two... jump in with both feet. Well Grindel, you've never been one to stay out of things, likely why you get yourself into such trouble. *chuckles* here goes nothin'

With a flourish he hid his wand within the sleeve of his robe, turned the handle of the door and stepped inside. "Alright you two, break it up. This ain' no time for elfy lovin' unless I get to join." He grinned widely glancing between the pair and quickly noticing the difference in demeanor of Palo and Tiriel's hand on her chakram. "Oh... kinky stuff..." A wider grin formed on his face as he pulled his wand, "I'm very game!"

So I talked to Chelsea about this, should we just wait till Sunday to play or should we take this to the Colosseum? I think we should wait till Sunday I'm really happy with the turn out of writing that came just from the one post. I've had just as much fun writing as playing lol well let me know what you guys think.

If it's going automatically to combat I'd rather wait til Sunday but that'd be up to Timmykins. If there's a chance to rp a bit more then we can keep going here.

If Sunday's coming up, I think it would be best if we just waited until then.

But thats just me.

Yeah, we'll wait for Sunday's session to wrap this up. It would take way too long in the Coliseum.

AMdG

Uh, slight problem.

1. Tierryn has her back against the door, so if Grindell is entering the room, he's going to have to bodily shove the door open.

2. The only reason Tierryn picked up the change in Palo was because she actively scanned him with her Gifts. I don't know that Grindell could sense the change in him, since he's relying on Arcana and Palo's power is all Gift based.

3. Why exactly are you barging into the room if you think we're gettin' it on? Pervert, LOL.

Should we just start with when Palo and Tierryn left the common room to do Grindell's stuff on Sunday?

Kestiel stood rooted in place.

Her blue eyes were wide with shock, her cheek still stinging from Dragonar's earlier slap. She slowly lifted her hand, her fingers resting lightly upon her face, her brow furrowing in confusion, followed quickly by anger. She lowered her hand, clenching it into a fist as she began to tremble with rage.

"How dare he?" she hissed, the air around her wavering with heat-shimmer. Suddenly, Kestiel felt as if she'd awakened from a long sleep. She saw, as if through someone else's eyes, the way that she'd been acting toward the warforged, following him around and speaking to him as if he was better than her. I'm not sure what spell he's had me under, the half-elf thought vehemently, but I swear to the gods that all of that is over! I'll not be reduced to some addle-brained, bewitched fool, to be walked all over by an artificially-created monstrosity like him!

Without a word, she set off to follow Dragonar as he made his way through the city.

"Kestiel, wait!" Markus called out, rushing to catch up with her. "What are you doing?" he asked, reaching out to stop her and pulling his hand back as it touched the super-heated air around her.

The auburn-haired woman spun on him, her eyes alight with anger. "I'm doing what I should have done a long time ago, Markus. Stay here. Just stay here, and you won't be held responsible for anything that's about to happen."

"Kestiel--"

"Enough!" she shouted. Turning her back on the goliath, Kestiel walked on, pausing to look back at him and repeat, "Just stay here. Go back to the inn."

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It didn't take Kestiel long to find her quarry.

By simply following the warforged's newly-awakened magical signature, Kestiel soon came upon Dragonar in a small stand of forest outside the village. At first she just watched, narrowing her eyes as the construct beat upon a single tree, striking it over and over. She leaned against a nearby tree, concealed in the shadows of the forest, content to wait and let the fool exhaust himself in his pointless exercise.

What a fool! she thought, shaking her head. Fiery death waiting so close, and he doesn't even know it! Yet even as she thought this, she knew that she'd never go so far as to kill him, no matter how much her temper got away from her. First of all, it would be far, far more humiliating for him to simply be beaten and humbled, and then to live with that knowledge; secondly, for reasons she was still entirely unsure of, Kestiel just knew that she could never kill him, that doing so would be an unthinkable sin.

She tried to shake this feeling off, but to no avail. Whatever bewitchment Dragonar had upon her, it was too strong for one even of her tremendous magical power to break.

That realization simply infuriated her more.

Enough! she silently screamed, her body trembling with rage. I will beat him to within an inch of his life, and then, when he's suitably humbled, he'll understand that laying his hands on me was the worst mistake he's ever made...

Robert, we'll also resolve the upcoming Kestiel/Dragonar battle during Sunday's session.

AMdG

Wow, in-group fighting all around! : D

1) Didn't see the part where her back was against the door.

2) Passive arcana of 26 I would think he'd be able to tell something has changed in his magical signature.

3) He doesn't really think that, he's using it as a cover.

But, if you all have a problem with it I'll drop the post all together. *shrugs*

*shrugs* Ask Tim. I'm sure we can just modify things appropriately - I don't want you to lose the XP for posting a story segment.

1. " leaning against the door and keeping an ear turned for any noise in the hall." so opening the door would be my only problem
2. I'm not sure how arcana works with possession lol tell you the truth I'm surprised none of you magicly folk haven't noticed the violin yet
3. I have no problem with Grindell fallowing us i just dont know if he wont be heard or be able to get in the room.

needless to say very excited for sunday lol!