[i]Althalus[/i] Althalus snorted. “Oh yes. Sissy magic. Keep your favorite spear close. If you don’t, it might end up a pile of rust dust. Accidents happen all the time in a mage college. Also, encourage her to make thorn bushes in [i]your[/i] bed next time. Think about it! It’ll build character and quick reaction skills! If you can wake up and repel a thorn bush attack, you can wake up and repel an assassination attempt!” Under his breath he muttered, “I hope she didn’t pick up any of those curses…” Having her repeating any of what he had said would get him no end of grief from multiple people. Not Mar or Alaira, he hoped. But more than he wanted to deal with. Before Alaira could make her retort, a guard summoned both Althalus and Mar to Lucilia. An occurrence that filled him with suspicion. Why would she need the both of them? He walked over to Lyn and kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed with Mar towards Lucilia’s office. [i]A few moments after being told of his mission…[/i] “Oh good. Then at least one of us is not going.” Althalus said with false cheerfulness. The idea that they both were supposed to go and leave Lyn alone was...ridiculous. Who would look after Lyn? The Golems? Tyrael? Right. And he would be long dead when he allowed that to happen. He would prefer that Mar stay and he go, but he knew by now to not push [i]that[/i] line of thought any farther than his head. It tended to end badly. With that he turned and left the room, leaving no time for argument. He didn’t get far before Uicle waylaid him. Or rather, the loud crash and cursing drew him to Uicle. The Necromancer seemed fine, even with his arm severed at the elbow. Althalus didn’t ask what happened. The golem picking up its weapon explained enough. “You’re going Althalus. So is Mar.” He glared at the teacher, who was idly reattaching his arm. “And why is that? Because you asked nicely?” Althalus asked, acidic sarcasm dripping from his words. “No, because Mar is going, and if she causes another incident like she did her first few weeks here, the College won’t be able to protect her or excuse her. She’ll be subject to Eanian laws, and I suspect they will not be kind. You’ll have to go to make sure she doesn’t get herself executed.” Althalus stared at him for a moment. “You bastard.” Uicle chuckled. “I happen to know exactly who my father was. A rather respectable merchant in his time. Now go get ready. They might leave without you and then you’ll have to run to catch up.” Althalus left, muttering unkind things. He was soon waiting at the west gate, his armor and knives all back in their familiar places. He even had his cross bow and quarrels for it. The only thing that was missing was his mask, still safely nestled in his, Lyn’s, and Mar’s room. This wasn’t a job. No need to bring unnecessary attention to himself. [b]Aramir[/b] Aramir was ridiculously relieved that she got a mission she was familiar with on some level. Try to outsmart the prey, even if they weren’t actually hunting the Roc. Sure, she had very little of an idea how to hunt something like the Roc in a plateau, and no idea how to operate a ballista, but this was familiar ground. She just hoped that the rest of her allies were going to be wise about this. Auriel she knew would have to be watched. The elf was rash, to say the least. The rest she hadn’t really interacted with during her time here, classes and chance keeping them separate. She knew their names, but other than that she knew nothing. Not for the first time, it occurred to her that this entire venture could go very badly if someone made one wrong move. Regardless, she grabbed her bow, a quiver full of arrows, and her daggers (she doubted that they would be useful in any, way, shape, or form, but you never knew what might come in handy. Especially during a hunt.) With one last check to make sure her hair was in a secure braid that would be out of her way, she headed to where the wagon with the ballista would be waiting, only to find Annabeth already there. She smiled and waved, giving a cheerful, “Hello!” Before turning her attention to their wagon. It certainly looked durable, with a sacrifice for comfort. Aramir shrugged. Discomfort was better than being torn apart by a Roc. “So, do you have any idea how to fire the ballista? Because I doubt I could reach it, much less aim it properly, even if I did know how to use it.” She asked Annabeth, looking up at the human.