[h3]Zerul City, the Drunken Dove[/h3]
"Quite a bit," the innkeeper replied, falling back into his line of duty much faster this time around as I'on brought up the most profitable aspect of his business. "I've got most of the local fare, of course, but we get lots of merchants coming through here, so I have some imports, too. I've got a few bottles of fancy deigan booze from the south, too, but I'm sure you'd be more interested in the barrel of penin Finest out back. Can I get you any?"

The deo'iel, meanwhile, paid no mind to the interaction between penin and innkeeper, but seemed more concerned with their conversation with Ixion and Morgan.
"Well, it's not like we'd know for sure whether he can disguise his magical energy," the blue haired one shrugged, smiling apologetically as she wrapped her finger even more tightly in the tuft of hair and replaced her periodic yanking with a sustained pull. "You need to be much closer to feel that, after all, and demonspawn don't feel it as strongly as full mortals do. It's not foreign to us, after all; we have the same energy inside ourselves."
She sighed, then continued: "But I can make an informed guess and say that he probably can disguise his soul, too. The demonspawn whose powers he stole to be able to hide like this wasn't discovered for forty years... and not only that, she was able to pass as a Paladin of Liya, and could even invoke Favored power as one. She even had [I]children[/I]! She put herself in the center of attention, yet no one had the slightest suspicion of her true nature."
"When he stole her powers," the other deo'iel continued, "we hoped that he would need time to learn to use his new powers; that we could find him before he became undetectable. But apparently he learns fast. He may be as good at disguising himself as Himyth herself by now... he could be with us in this very room, and we would never realize until it was too late."

When the time came for Ixion to explain his injury, the effect of his words was quite evident on the two demonspawn. The blue-haired suddenly forgot about the self-mutilation she was engaged in, letting her tuft of hair escape her grasp but leaving her hand in front of her face, as she stared intently at Ixion. When he described the magic that had inflicted his wound, the masked and hooded sister cocked her head left, her eyes narrowing in thought.
"I... I don't even know what's stranger about what you just said," the blue-haired one chuckled nervously. "The fact that you know who the Fixer is and still feel comfortable mentioning him so casually, or that a guardsman was hunting him. Why would he think you were the Fixer? No, more importantly: how did you convince him you weren't?"
"Cutting with light..." the other sister muttered to herself, seemingly fascinated with the prospect. "How much did it hurt?"