The barkeep emerged with several heaping plates of food. For a hole in the wall place, and the sub par supper they had the evening before, breakfast was the kings meal. Fresh eggs, bacon, potatoes, everything looked and smelled amazing. And it would perhaps be the most delicious meal they would have before their venture.

Jarkson placed a plate infront of Ajax, and one in front of Isabeau, then sat a few others at the side of the bar. "Come and get it", he yelled over to any others who might have been interested. He nodded to Regina, acknowledging her question "There be a target linin' the back wall dearie."

The large man then turned his attention to Sakaala and the query she posed. "Aye missy, ye looking fer tea?"

Isabeau glanced at Regina as she retorted against the massive man's remark. Not wanting to stir the pot any further, she simply said "It might be smart to keep your nose out of this one. Making accusations isn't really the way to someone's good side." The wry smile to which accompanied her comment melted as her eyes fixed upon the plate of food sat out for her. "I have as much fun as the next person, and I can certainly tell you that I will enjoy this plate of food very much." a slight nod to Jarkson in appreciation before she dug into her meal.

Sakaala fostered a soft nod to dwarf as her reply, paying him enough regard in her gesture that she needn't add anything else to it at the moment. The hot water was for more than just something to drink, rather it had other practical uses beyond tea, but those would come to the awareness of the others in due time. It did yet spur her to respond, being certain to be specific about the matter.

"In part, yes." Her fearsome jaws replied, her head turning to note Hills who looked upon her.

The worn-torn huntress certainly didn't smile at the brief exchange, but she was far from frowning. The expression she wore was more that she noted the observing halfling and not so much as to knowing why. There was no telling as to what the small woman was thinking, her mind seemed a flighty place, focused here in one moment and away in another the next. Anything and everything could be said or not spoken at all about it, but the half beast wasn't of the mind or sort to truly care.

People stared, a lot; between the fact she was the same thing people oft hid in their homes from with the coming night and the maiming she endured, there was ample attention she received - almost none of it friendly.

Looking back to Jarkson, the inn's owner as he busied himself with the morning's work, the mercenary let her mind drift away and to memory. She wondered what had become of Lady Genevieve if the paled woman had become any more sane by being deprived of her cursed relic and beaten senseless by the other mage - of whom never followed as the arcanist had hoped. It seemed they had a common enemy, this demon and whatever forces he had managed to scrounge together in preparation for capturing these stones for himself and worse, but the fact this also meant they took someone titled as an "assassin" made her question as to just who was, short of the knights, in this for the right reason.

@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@The Fated Fallen@vietmyke@Zero Hex

Ionathan finished eating, wiping the used dining utensils with a cloth. Observing his companions, he saw that all seemed, to be not yet ready to leave the tavern. He knew that he had a strict routine when compared to others but the thought of haste disturbed him.

Zargon had managed to get in to Waeldeshore, create chaos and escape, what was to stop him from doing so again with an army of cultists and demons at his back? He has had twenty-five years to consolidate and prepare for his next move. Ionathan would urge all due haste if he had the influence over the group.

Looking at Sakaala next to him he wondered about her species, there were few books that Ionathan could access about them and he wondered if asking about her species would be rude. Deciding that it is better to be safe than sorry, he dismissed the notion, making a mental reminder to ask her later.

Getting up of his chair and giving a nod to those who he crossed eyes with he headed up back to his room and started to don his arms and armour. It was a different tale twenty-five years ago, back then he had intel on the group he was tasked to follow, he knew enough about them to trust them to make the right decisions.

He would trust them and he hoped that for Waeldeshore’s sake, that when the time came, he could rely on them to have his back.

@Belwicket @vietmyke @AdamantiumWolf @Zero Hex @The Harbinger of Ferocity @IcePezz @The Fated Fallen

Pleasantly surprised with the caliber of the meal the bar produced, especially when compared to the food from the Sage's house and his previous supper at the same bar, Emil could hardly believe such food came from the kitchens of a common man's tavern. Perhaps this sign of goodwill was to convince them to leave without causing yet more ruckus? Regardless, Emil ate in relative silence, taking in the conversations happening around him rather than interject himself into them.

Regina, the small halfling, had already started the morning by starting to bicker with their would-be-assailant turned ally? The whole ordeal still weighed on Emil's mind. He regarded Isabeau with cautious curiosity. He wasn't certain of her allegiances, nor was he certain of the extent of her abilities. Then again, Emil was certain of the extent of anyone's abilities in the present company. He looked at the others, and confirmed that he still had yet, much to learn.

Emil watched Ionathan finish his meal, and silently excuse himself to go back upstairs, and shortly returned with his armor. Sakaala, the ever pragmatic beast-woman spoke little, and did so with great weight.

Finally deciding to pipe up, Emil let out a short cough. "So what appears to be our next course of action? Lady Genevieve still rests upstairs, I am curious to how she will... react... to the new organization of our little group." he asked, also noting that just the night before, Isabeau and Lady Genevieve, were not necessarily on the same side of the battle line.

Ajax shrugged and smiled at the halfling and the assassin both, raising his hands up the sides of his face in a gesture of surrender that was wholly out of place with, well, everything about him. He was in good spirits and, in his own way, now considered the two of them as part of his group for the duration of this adventure. "Look, all I'm saying is if someone tells me they like halflings I wouldn't be surprised if they went for the younger sorts. Not like it's entirely frowned upon where I come from", he said with no shortage of humor before scarfing down the plate set in front of him with the voracity of a giant.

It was a fine meal. Ajax knew that sometimes simple homely cooking was better than any impersonal attempt at sophistication. It wasn't what he ate ages ago, in his long lost land, but the idea was close enough that it pleased him greatly. Of course, this translated into him engulfing the food like a starving beast before loudly demanding more. He could do without, but a frame like his was best kept well fed. Before his next serving came, the younger knight piped up with some good questions. "I leave it up to those that knew her, but were it up to me I'd snap her neck. Of course, she might be too valuable to kill. ¿Isn't there somewhere safe we can drop her?".

Regina nodded to the barkeep as she began pulling out daggers. Moving to get a good shot at the target, she kept her ears open. Looking at Ajax with a frown, she considered his comment about people hooking up with halflings because they like younger people. "And some people just like us." she added. She threw her daggers, training both her natural accuracy and her psionics. Emil then asked about Genevieve. After Ajax's comment, she smirked. "Oh, I have plans. I just have to get into her mind first. And it won't be a pleasant sight so I'd suggest anyone with a weak stomach not watch." She threw another couple daggers. as she thought about what she could possibly see. She glanced at Isabeau with a sigh and a frown. With a bit of anger behind her throw, she aimed at the target, hitting the center.

"As much as the woman deserves for her crimes, I ask that we leave it up to the Magi to deal with her first." , she interjected. It wouldn't be as if Regina could do much to the woman regardless. An unconscious mind was as sealed up as a dead man. Glancing over at Ionathan as he donned his armor, her face contorted with a bit of longing and sorrow. It warmed her heart to see him, and as he went through the movements, it was as if nothing had changed. Through out all they've been through, he had been the only one to know her, to show a sense of comradery, as if the 25 years they had spent apart had only been reduced to one. Unfortunately though, there was so much that had changed, and so much of her mind that had slipped into the shadows, it took all of her just to keep things together. Certain tasks kept her grounded, though she feared this very well may be her last adventure to speak of.

She offered a small smile to the Knight, genuine as it was, it couldn't paint over the sadness that warped her features. Returning her attention to Ajax, words were expelled in a hoarse measure "It is nearly a days walk to where we need to go. If you've finished your meal, I suggest we get going."

She glanced over towards the staircase "As unpleasant as it is, someone may have to carry the witch. If she hasn't already woken, I'm sure she will remain in her state for the venture. And if she doesn't, I believe I have something to take care of her." She imagined the amulet the magi left behind would do the trick, if not kill her. At which point, she'd hope they wouldn't be too disappointed in the lack of life she would present them with.

Ajax shrugged once more, as he was wont to do, theatrically raising his hands as if to say "I really don't know or care much about this". He honestly had no real preference or investment in the witch's fate, his involvement was generally limited to things that he felt truly affected him and he was quite confident that if necessary he could just snap her in half when the time came. He felt that way about most things. He did, however, take notice of the way Isabeau looked at the knight in shining armor. Funny how cliches played out sometimes. "Oh please, I'm always ready, I just need to get my wineskin from the bartender and we can leave whenever you please. I do believe we have a mount but if not I'll carry the witch myself".

"As unpleasant as it is, someone may have to carry the witch. If she hasn't already woken, I'm sure she will remain in her state for the venture. And if she doesn't, I believe I have something to take care of her."

The muzzle of the blinded woman dipped slightly, following her imbibing of the hot water and content to add nothing to what was said. She agreed that it was indeed time to press onward; the mortal company had been fed and were clearly prepared and equipped for the expedition. Finishing what remained of her simple drink, a great talon of hers caressed the thin metal cup as it rested in the grasp of the motionless arm. The unquestionable heat of formerly boiling water bothered her none in its contact, but she used this to guide the liveliness of her crippled body. One day she and her arcane source would be made whole again; that would take much practice and even from the simplest source.

Nudging it away with her knuckles, she resumed to standing, keeping her focus on the other woman.

"Then lead the way." Sakaala said, skewed and scarred face pulled into an unsettling animal smile.

@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@The Fated Fallen@vietmyke@Zero Hex

Tarden worked a trade upon the door, and pretty quickly it was properly re-aligned on it's hinges and the wood-glue was drying nicely. He left it open as to let the smell clear a bit and so that nobody would touch it and keep it from drying. Some people get engrossed in their work, but Tarden always finds himself more alert and aware than usual. He heard a cu-thunk of dagger point hitting wood on the painted wall towards the back of the inn. By the subtle breaks in her words while it happened Tarden guessed it was the Halfling at the table doing such a thing, and although he didn't know how accurate the throws were it would be an impressive feat to get even close at that distance. Clearly she was quite a talented marksmen! I guess it makes sense, their kind is famous for their ability to throw things.. He ignored the argument between her and the dangerous looking lady. He was in the hobby of making quiet observations, not in the business of other people's business

Then there came mention of a witch. Though the party failed to notice it for the most part, the bar hushed. Had these adventurers brought a witch into this establishment and endangered everyone here? "A witch? Where is this witch?" Tarden couldn't help his curiosity and mild anxiety. Other voices echoed his question in more hostile tones. "Why would you bring something like that here?" one cried, another shouted "Trouble! You're all trouble!" and made a vulgar warding sign with his hand. The situation looked as though it might get out of hand if not for some sort of intervention, people apparently were stupid enough to try and be hostile to a halfling marksmen and a man more muscle and might than the entire room put together

@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@The Harbinger of Ferocity@vietmyke@Zero Hex

"The witch is of no concern to any of you as long as I am here." Regina said, telekinetically throwing another dagger. "I can keep her in check if my concentration isn't broken." She looked to Ionathan with a frown and a nod. "Not to mention my friends." She threw another dagger, by hand this time, before levitating herself from the table she was on. She walked to the dartboard and plucked her daggers out one by one. "There is much about me most people don't know."

As he finished donning his armour, Ionathan smoothed the tabard that was across his mail shirt, as he did so he noticed Isabeau gaze. While he smiled back, he began to wonder about her life. Has she ever had a relatively normal day in her life? Has she ever gone out with a few friends to the local tavern? He was certain the answers to both questions was no which only made him feel more determined. If they could end this, Isabeau could start a normal life.

Moving closer to the group around Isabeau he nodded his consent to the plan, he was sure that if they asked nicely, Emil would let them sling Genevieve on the back of his horse again. Of course it would look like they kidnapped her. In a way they did, but it was all for the greater good and most travellers these days keep to themselves so their travels should be free from any interruptions.

"Trouble! You're all trouble!"

Ionathan frowned, he has had to deal with drunkards too many times in his life and as he listened the mob mentality grew. With increasing confidence that only came from their drinks and the voiced discontent of others. Ionathan knew he had no jurisdiction here, but they didn’t know that.

"I can keep her in check if my concentration isn't broken."
"Not to mention my friends."

He could not help but smile at Regina when she called him her friend, sure she may have precision marksmanship and terrifying abilities, but she has a good heart. Not to mention that she had played an excellent role in calming the discontent. With her reassurance it was now time to finish of the discontent.

He now made his way into the centre of the Inn, putting more force into his steps for the sound of his heels slamming into the wooden floor. As planned the thud of his heels broke convocations in the tavern, along with his bright tabard, all eyes were on him instead of on the group.

“I am Sir Ionathan Hepburnberg, Commissioner of Justice, head of the Waeldeshorian Guard.

I was tasked, along with my companions, to arrest this so called witch and to take her to where she will face her crimes, and face justice.

We are fully equipped to face anything she can throw at use, so you can assure yourselves that this is under control and we will soon be leaving.

It is now my duty to inform you that a cottage has recently collapsed in this local district, labourers will be randomly picked to clear the rubble, please see your local government official for more information. Thank you for your time.”

With Regina’s reassurance and the moaning turned to the prospect of spending a few days doing labour intensive work, the tension eased.

Ionathan now made his way back to the group, mouthing a thank you to Regina.

"Amusing." Sakaala remarked on the turn of events, her haunting smile ever wider at the thought how these men interpreted the prospect of a "witch".

"Little men, how you play with your toys and trinkets..." The aging ranger thought in dreamlike recollection to herself, "Yet you never asked yourself from where some of them came." Her mother was wise on the matter she recalled, wiser than even the shadow of a fallen people that was her daughter now. There was no doubt a "witch" was trouble, but it amused her how mortal men were so coveting of a mage's handiwork yet so fearful of them all the same when they at last came to know it in the flesh. In a way it pleased the leonine figure as she leaned her great frame back against the bar, content to observe. It fed into the distraction from her presence, making any conflict to follow easier; unwary humans, after all, were the easiest of prey in that they seemed to lack the instinct to preserve themselves.

She looked from the real witch to where the battered wizard was to have been somewhere upstairs, then to the bound man in his many wrappings and at last to the knight who had ended the confrontation to the best of his ability. The man was more than right, in all of his noble trim, that the group assembled certainly looked the part; half had the clear cut trappings of mercenaries and the other half looked like members of some official party, of which they were after all.

Removing herself from her relaxed pose, suspended sword singing slightly as its elven steel brushed the wood along with the back of her ragged cloak, she ran the strong hand across her jowls.

"If we are done entertaining the current company with our business, we should get our quarry on the move."

@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@The Fated Fallen@vietmyke@Zero Hex

"I suppose I'll go retrieve Lady Genevieve," Emil mused aloud, as the others carried on with the conversation. He was a little taken aback when the common folk referred to the Lady as a "witch", he was more confused to why they seemed to unused to the idea of magic- having lived much of their lives with the Lady living just up the hill, though he supposed Lady Genevieve never deigned to visit the commoners on regular occasion. There were implications that they had to carry Lady Genevieve with them for the trip. Emil was slightly uncomfortable at this- as a lancer, most of his mounted combat prowess stemmed from his ability to stay mobile, doing so with a unconscious person sat behind him was a much more difficult task.

Nevertheless, Emil moved upstairs to retrieve the lady, while Sir Hepburnberg calmed the local peasants with his logical, and orderly commands. At least one of their group understood the intricacies of talking to commonfolk and other men- for while the ability to knock down doors, rubble, and men alike with little more effort than a flick of one's wrist was certainly handy, or casting magic whilst blade in hand useful, Emil would rather not tear down every door they came across and causing chaos amongst the local peasantry.

Quietly opening the door to the room, he found Lady Genevieve in much the same state he left her in last night, unconscious and fast asleep on the bed, seemingly not moved a single inch. Gingerly carrying the lady out of bed, Emil brought her back downstairs with the rest of the group, only bumping the lady once against the rather thin door frame- hopefully quietly enough that no one else had noticed. Sheepishly approaching the rest of the group with the lady in his arms.

"If we're ready to go, I'll sit the Lady with me on my horse, Roark won't mind."

She had apparently caused a ruckus in the inn. Not that this was something new, Isabeau had a thing for putting her foot in her mouth. Regardless, she was tired of sitting around and waiting, and she was tired of having to deal with everyone's judgments of her and dismissal of their situation. The little town could burn for all she cared. If they were scared of a 'witch' and thought their town was free of all other troubles, they were in for a rude awakening.

Words were already spoken on the matter, and so she let it be. She leaned over the bar to grab a random bottle and fill her flask up. That would, at the very least, bring her joy on this bitter journey. "Very well." There were enough coins on the table from their party to cover whatever costs they had accrued throughout their stay. She had no idea what type of liquor she had swiped, but it would have to do.

Each had made it clear that they would follow through with this quest, she had only hoped that it wouldn't turn sour and lead to betrayal somewhere down the line. She didn't like having to trust people, unfortunately, she's had to do a lot of that lately. That didn't mean that she stopped sleeping with her axe nearby or the dagger tucked under her pillow.

with no other words, she moved from her seat and removed herself from the walls of the inn. Her strides were large and swift, if luck were on their side, they would reach the cave by sundown. No interruptions, no stops, no attacks or distractions. But when did luck ever follow her?

When the crowd began to pipe up and empty their bladders at the thought of a spellcaster, before Regina and Ionathan did their level best to calm them down peacefully, Ajax turned to stare at the patrons. He took his sweet time, looking every single man up and down like one would examine a piece of merchandise and dead in the eyes before moving to the next. He stood tall as he was, chin up and bulging chest out, and placed his ham-hock fists on his hips to make himself look even wider. He wordlessly dared all who met his gaze to speak up to him personally, to step up if it was truly so important for them. None of them did.

The knight's words in particular put a quick end to anything that might've happened, and everyone who'd been so keen to engage in hostilities before meekly went back to their business rather than risk tussling with an officer of the law. The few that still deigned look him in the eye were met with a toothy grin that mocked their weakness. Still smiling, Ajax followed the others outside but not before audibly muttering "Hah, cowards". Yes, wizards were the root of most every problem as far as he was concerned, but they could be killed like anyone and anything else. And as far as he was concerned, that was an even enough playing field.

Her pace was a swift one, with large steps and little care of leaving anyone behind. She wasn't their leader, no, she was more of a pawn in this little game, one played between the heavens and hell. And that made her angry. She was angered by the heavens, that none had showed them self or given aid to defeat the demons they were charged with holding at bay. She was angered by the Magi, who wouldn't take any active part in this war. Their power could strike the demons into oblivion if they had motivation to do so. And so as she marched through the sands that surrounded the small town, the rocky terrain shrouded in wilderness, her fists were clenched, her jaw was tight and the chip on her shoulder weighed so heavy that each step exhausted her even more. Her eyes became gaunt, her skin drained of color. Because of honor, she was stuck. Because of honor, she would die. And she knew it.

The path to the cave was a long one, with many curves and twists. Their footsteps trampled through transitions of barren ground and rich grassy fields, however as they grew closer towards their destination, the winds stilled, the air became stagnant and damp. Wildlife had either been non existent here of had just become so accustomed to the silence that not one dared to make a sound. They were lucky to have not been stopped by a rabble of bandits, or even worse, a horde of demons. Though part of her had wished they had, as the longer they stayed hidden, the more suspicious she had become of things. Not to mention, the only two of their group to have seen the deadly beasts, aside from Isabeau were Regina and Ionathan. This rag tag bunch were an untrusting lot, so if they were able to see something with their own eyes, they may finally understand the severity of their situation.

The others had followed her quietly, and they had indeed made it to the mouth of the cave before sundown. Her mouth was as dry as the land that surrounded them, sapped up by the thick layer of moisture within the air. So when she was finally able to form her words, her voice was low and scratchy. "Please be weary. The Magi do not care much for outsiders. They treasure their solitude and so those to disturb that are looked upon harshly. We will leave Genevieve with them. The artifact ... well ... there is rumor of one who knows how to destroy it. I will see if I can find out just who this person is., she glanced at each, knowing the thoughts that circled through their mind. She thought of giving them a moment to respond or answer, but quickly turned her attention back towards the cave. There wasn't much more that needed to be said. And she wasn't going to waste any more time quibbling over nonsense.

The inside of the cave was dark and dank. Large rocks and boulders of a green and blue metallic tint sat beside matching walls. It was a bit warmer here than outside, perhaps due to the heat emitting from the castle just beyond. Nothing out of the ordinary with the exception of the golden metal gate ahead of them. On the ground just ahead of the gate was a dark red stain, questionable to others that had never been there before. Torches illuminated a long golden hallway just beyond the gate. Isabeau hadn't expected her friend to greet them here, however she had never seen the hallway so empty before. Someone should have been there. She grumbled quietly to herself before quickly reaching for the dagger tucked in her boot. She stood before the red stained spot and sliced through the flesh of her palm. She had no idea if this would work or not, but she had to try. They had a spilt her blood within these halls previously, and she had been allowed inside before as well. There was no flinch or cry as the blade cut through, droplets of blood pooled on the floor before the gate and Izzy let out a soft breath. She had placed the bloody palm on the warm metal that blocked their way. She could feel her pulse through her hand and nearly felt sick for a moment. Just then, the gate unlocked. A small smile edged its way as she shoved the gate open. She was sure a Magi would be near to greet them and so went first through the gate, expecting the others to follow.

Ajax followed quietly but unnecessarily merrily for the situation at hand. He made sure to take good stock of the land and let his attention wander to natural formations and what wildlife he saw, occassionally taking sips from the wineskin he had procured from the tavern and munching on a piece of bread he had grabbed for the journey. He might well be out for a simple walk rather than something where the fate of the world hung in the balance, but it was simply his way. He kept the pace without a hitch, his senses were sharp and at some point he even would've welcomed any kind of hostile interaction to break up the monotony.

He would worry when given cause to, and he'd been through enough similar situations to know that "the world" more often than not simply meant "this limited portion of creation we happen to know". Still, it was an intriguing task and one that he had decided he'd see through to the end to the best of his abilities. He didn't like having to place his trust in sorcerers, but it came with the territory. In fact, sometimes they did some interesting things such as the safety mechanism with the door. "Neat", he noted as the golden portal opened itself. "Don't suppose that'd work for anyone else in the group".

While he was easily able to keep up with Isabeau, the travel to the cave put him on edge, he kept his eyes on the surrounding land they walked. Now would be an opportune time to attack, the group had just been formed and each member of the group did not know what the others were capable off. Yet the attack never came and that made him uneasy. There was also the uncertainty of what they faced, was it Zargon and a collection of demonic cultists or was it a demonic army with hell fire swords coming to crush the mortal realm?

Entering the cave, he thumbed the hilt of his sword with a gloved hand making sure it was loose in its scabbard. He did not trust mages, many looked down on the common folk and thought that because they had the ability burn and destroy at a whim, that they should rule the land. Ionathan had fought mages before and had the scars to prove it.

He winced as Isabeau cut through her hand, what was this ritual supposed to prove? Why couldn’t they just have a man at the gate instead of having to rely on this barbaric practice? As the door opened and Ionathan took his shield of his back but he did not draw his sword, if they were friendly he did not want to antagonise them, but he did want to show them that he was ready should any action take place.

Deciding to go second after Isabeau he gave a shrug to Ajax’s question as he went past and caught up to Isabeau looking at the bleeding cut. Rummaging around in his first aid pouches he finally picked out a bandage roll and offered it to her. He was happy that he final got to use his first aid supplies, he usually never got to use it as the battlefield injuries were usually to severe for simple first aid.

Scowling, her attention did narrow as she witnessed the woman pierce her own hand and cut a thin line across it surface. As soon as it welled with blood, the figure's eyes expressing her doubt about whatever she was to perform, it became clear that it had indeed succeeded. This however did nothing to please the armored silhouette who kept her distance from both door and witch, her tattered robe and scuffed armor rustling slightly; almost speaking volumes to the irritation that filled the savage soul's heart. It was a vile thing what she had witnessed - what the old hunter could see before her - the woman using blood to fuel magic. Everything within the ranger's spirit, the very essence of her own enchanted blood, simmered with disgust and contained rage.

The usually refined Sakaala's lip quivered slightly, still watching the great gate before them within the cave of tinted metal ores, but more than anything focusing upon Isabeau.

Everything about this ordeal made the sorcerous warrior regret allowing the assassin before her, palm still red with her own blood, to live let alone bring them all here as they were. Anyone, she truly meant it at heart, anyone who dared toy in the magic of blood was truly uninitiated. It served nothing but to ensure she distrusted them wholly; only mortals and more twisted things ever dared make such sacrifices. Blood was power, pure at that, and many more "monstrous" things relied upon that very gift in their flesh. She herself did and to see the way these creatures spread it across some golden metal figure, sacrificing a part of their very essence, drove her to anger.

It was pure arrogance.

"Unsurprising." She growled, her voice low as she came to watch the path before them take shape.

Her strong arm's fingers unfurled from their clenching shape, the elder of the two knights taking stride before her. She would take up the rear guard, for if anyone was going to stand a chance to fend off a mage in surprise, it was another one and a sorcerer at that; someone whose magic was unpredictable, strange and internal. She could only hope the others were so wary as to delve into this den as she was, but she voiced not this concern.

She knew they were likely to be observed now if they were not already and no amount of directing or informing would change that; if trickery were to come to fall on them, there was to be little surprise. These traits, these truths really, filled the aged leonine figure with calm again - the need to focus and to be serene. Hatred was what had killed her people; she would never become that.

@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@The Fated Fallen@vietmyke@Zero Hex