Despite Dareen's bluff and the other attempts that were made to say that Faeril wasn't home, judging by how things were going, it was clear that the intruders would get in no matter what. According to Bellinar's words, that group was apparently targetting Faeril for a long time. It seemed like they had finally grew tired of waiting and decided to try to attain their objectives with brute force.

Despite everyone having their weapons in hand, Dareen was still unarmed, which explained why she was so concerned about the situation turning into a conflict, despite being clear that such outcome was unavoidable. When she turned towards Mikhail asking him to undo his trap, he answered her without taking his eyes off the door.

"A peaceful outcome is not an option anymore. I'm afraid it was never an option to those guys outside to begin with..." Mikhail said to Dareen, both his words and the tone of his voice making it clear his annoyance with the fact that Dareen was still unarmed despite them being attacked.

Fortunately, Gennar also seemed to share Mikhail's thoughts regarding why Dareen wasn't given her weapons back. With Gennar's angry words, despite the time it took, Dareen finally had her weapons back in her hands. With everyone ready, Gennar opened the front door with a hand movement. Feeling the slight movement of the wires on his left hand, Mikhail simply smirked as one of the three men who rushed inside began talking. Without actually paying attention to their words or provocations, Mikhail pulled the wires with a violent and agile movement of his hand, making his wires tighten around those who were caught by it.

In the blink of an eye, blood spewed from the three men who had rushed inside as their bodies suffered deep cutting wounds and lacerations due to Mikhail's wire. Unfortunately, the third one shielded himself, suffering lighter wounds than the other two, who suffered deep and grave wounds.

"Last warning. Retreat at once if you value your lives." Mikhail hissed, his voice and stare as sharp as his wires as he held them on his hand.

It was clear to all three men who were tangled into his wires that their lives were basically on Mikhail's hands and judging by how he was slowly pulling the wires more and more, he wouldn't hesitate in taking their lives.

Dareen felt much better with her weapons. With practiced effeciency she equipped herself, slinging her bow and quiver over her shoulder and slipping her sword into her left hand into her shield in the other, the Pruulish Witch favoring her left hand. Giving a quick nod to Denvar she rolled her neck and shoulders excitedely. Nervously she glanced over her shoulder at the mostly empty room behind her. She bounced up and down and wobbled her head. Focusing up for a minute she channeled the Craft and activated the invisible shield, a thin layer of additional protection beneath her studded leather and mail.

Then, they were upon them. Mikhail's wires proved incredibly effecient as crowd control. The momentum of the attacking force was halted immediately. Dareen gritted her teeth and took the opportunity, slashing her saber out at the Purple Dusk wearing warrior. He snarled and parried her slash, the blades scittering off each other as Dareen pushed deep into his defences. Another slash and Purple Dusk warrior was almostn ot fast enough. The blade scittered off his armor and as she positioned to strike far more lethally, the Purple Dusk repositioned himself and warded off the blow. Finally he retaliated with a warding strike of his own that Dareen easily backstepped. All of this movement made Mikail's wires cut into him even deeper and his position was even more awkward.

"Are you willing to die for this?" Dareen questioned with mock incredulity, cracking her neck once again. She was safely out of reach for the Purple Dusk, but she feinted another strike, causing him to flinch and regain his footing as he tried to search for a way out and forward, but it was hard to concentrate with the looming threat of Dareen's lethal, shining sabre.

Jandar glanced at Fatima moments before she replied to his suggestion, which is why he got the sense that she was…disturbed. However, her words were measured enough, and her expression didn’t give away whatever she may have been concerned about. The Kaeleeran Warlord frowned. Perhaps he would ask her later. He turned to the Black Widow as she spoke; the woman claimed her resting was irrelevant and yet she suggested (or rather, ordered) that they all walk to what he could only assume would be her base of operations – her home. He blinked as she requested a word with him, cocking his head to the side curiously. He turned to Fatima, giving her a reassuring look.

“I will be but a moment, my Lady,” he said to the queen. Jandar knew she was uncomfortable with SaDiablo, but…he had to know. The Warlord simply had to find out what had happened to the man in Terreille. The information he’d came upon in Kaeleer had never been so ominous as what Fatima’s fear of the man had implied about the Warlord Prince. Certainly, some back home believed him a traitor (if they even thought about him in the first place, that was), but there’d never been true cause to believe that, in Jandar’s opinion. Now, however, he may just be proven incorrectly by the Black Widow. However, he was determined to reserve judgement until he met and spoke to the man himself. Jandar left Fatima’s side with a reassuring look, stepping up to the Black Widow. Outside the tavern, the Eyrien woman asked whether he was looking for the sadist. Whatever had SaDiablo done to earn such a nickname?

“I am,” he asserted, though not as confidently as he would have liked, as a frown had already made its way onto his face. “Are you…are you implying that he is a part of the corruption?” he questioned cautiously. “If- If you have any information on him, I would be thankful should you choose to share it with me,” he added, gazing at her imploringly. SaDiablo had been his hero, still was, but even the Black Widow seemed to have her reservations about the strongest Warlord Prince alive. What in the name of Hell’s blazing fires had happened?! Jandar was both frustrated and slightly despairing as to what he might discover. Even if it was the worst of news, he would still want to face the man directly - though whenever such a thing would be possible, he wasn't certain.

---

---

"He will be coming with us until I can work my Craft upon him." Fatima breathed a sigh of relief at this. She could perhaps lobby for him to not be killed. Perhaps to even keep him close. She desperately wanted this connection to her old life but understood the need for the sacrifice of it if she were to join this band of rebels. "A word, Lord Jandar."

“I will be but a moment, my Lady." Fatima inclined her head, giving her understanding. She did not at all mind and his gesture of concern for her was well received. Her Court was feeling much more like HER COURT and it was an odd one. Well, odd feeling though the Court could be described as odd as well in so far. She turned her attention to Jassen with a smile and moved toward him. Once at his side she reached out and grabbed two of his fingers, much like she would do when she was little. Unfortunately, it seemed the man was quite upset. Her smile turned to concern as she listened to him speak.

"Lady, it is a trap. How can we trust this Widow? Let alone the Reaper."

She mulled this over thoughtfully, pressing close to Jassen as the move out of the tavern. Her brows furrowed as she considered this as an option. Could it be a trap? In what way? What would these rebels gain from capturing or murdering a Queen? Well, of course, there was the Queen Killer among them. But this was her Queen Killer. Something about that made him okay. And she could understand why the action was done, even if it was considered in poor taste. She turned bright, white-gold eyes upon the man who had been her companion throughout her entire life.

"Maybe we can trust them. I could not voice why to you," she said in a low whisper, excitement edging the notes of her tones. "There is something in my gut that screams 'YES!' and I would do well to listen to it. The Reaper is one of mine. This is a man who will protect me. I am absolutely sure of it. And Jandar as well. I had been prevented so long from forming this Court but no one told me how much it would seem like a part of me had always been missing and now is coming together. And even if it is a trap, I think refusing it, not taking up this chance, would be a greater evil." For a moment she thought about the dead boy she had once held. "I have a chance to help not only our people but everyone as well. And once that is done, I can come back to our little village." She let out a small, bell-like laugh. "Mayhaps I am waxing a bit poetic but... Things feel right to me." She shook her head and patted his arm. "It will be alright. I can feel a fresh breeze upon my face." She gave him one last stunning smile before she skipped ahead (quite literally) to catch Xandar before he flew off. "Would you take me with you? Perhaps it is presumptuous to ask but I have never flown before!"

Location: Outside of Winged Boar in Aven, Askavi

It seemed as though the fate of the man would be postponed until they came back to Faeril's residence. Seeing as though he was not trying to murder anybody at the moment, he could at least be less on edge that something bad was going to happen. Even so, there was only so much he could tolerate before he'd get angry, drunk, or both in a lot of cases. If such an event would happen again, he wouldn't think twice about lobbing a head or two off. He felt an urge to protect those around him, which was odd, considering he's been very apathetic to most these last few hundred years, let alone to strangers.

An audible groan escaped his lips when he heard the word walk, considering it would take a considerably longer amount of time and much more effort to reach the house on foot. Why would she offer if she herself could fly? Although, it seemed not everybody with them could fly, and she would have to surely show them the way. As much as he would love a walk, Xandar decided Faeril didn't need an escort back up to her home, and that he would fly himself there. Surely Jandar was with her at the very least, and the rest seemed competent more or less. Even the Queen would be with her, or so he thought, as he heard footsteps behind him as he was about to take off.

"As fun as that sounds, I'll be flying up there. I'm sure you lot can take care of yoursel-"

The Reaper raised an eyebrow at Fatima, seeing as it was quite bizarre for a Queen to ask him to fly her there without the company of her court. Well, she did believe he was going to be on her court. While the idea did seem like a good one, and he felt a strong urge to serve, his heart had been played with too many times to be swayed so easy. But still, a ride there wasn't a burden at all to him, as long as she wasn't one to get air sick. He's sure he'd get an earful from somebody about all this, but who could say no to the Queen?

"I suppose I could. Just make sure you hold on tightly, and don't get sick on me."

And with that he quickly scooped Fatima up in his arms bridal style, Making sure she had time to wrap her arms around his neck in the very least before immediately jumping and taking off with his wings. If he took too long he was afraid Faeril or Jassen would have choice words, but it was much easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. The weather was quite nicer than the last time he flew up the mountain, so it was smooth sailing and a nice view as they quickly ascended the cliff side.

"So, did you want to do this so you could see what it's like to fly, or were you dreading the walk as much as I did?" Xandar chuckled, trying to make some small talk as they would soon reach the top.

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

The walk would be a long one and Faeril was not looking forward to it. Rather that she would fly there, but it was no like she could carry any memeber of their little party easily. Leave such tasks to the Eyrien warriors for did love to show off. And speak of the devil, Faeril paused watching Xandar swoop off with Queen in his grasp. Narrowing her eyes, she felt her wings rustle in annoyance. Of course he was stealing away the Queen when a walk would have helped her get a measure for the woman! And the thrice cursed Warlord Prince had her supplies as well! But her laspe in thought had given Jandar time to catch up, Jassen trailing behind. The drunk's face red and his golden eyes furious as his Lady was quite literally carried off. "Your Queen will be at my residence so I suggest you save your wind for walking." Faeril bristled at her attacker before moving to keep walking. A thin Blood Opal shield forming about her as she did so. Attack her once, shame on you. Attack her twice? Faeril would never forgive herself. Let alone her three self proclaimed protectors. Four, she amended, with the addition of Mikhail.

Listening to Jandar confirm her suspicion the woman frowned more to herself than anyone else. She was going to wrinkles at this rate. "I do not know if he is part of this corruption." Faeril denied sharply, before running a hand over her face in thought. Damn this entirely too long walk! And damn Xandar for leaving it to her! An unfair thought but she was not in the mood to be fair. "He is a part of something, but I cannot place what." And that was bothering the Black Widow on multiple levels. Faeril liked knowing things, the unknown was something even as a child she could never stand. [color=SlateBlue]"Curse that Eyrien bastard."[/oolor] She muttered as they came within sight of the twisting stairs that led up the cliff face to her eyrie.

Ahkevron Residence, Aven, Askavi Terreille
@13org @Zoey White
"They don't want peace, Prince." Gen reminded the man as the three fellows got tangled up in the wires of the Grey Jeweled Prince. He could appreciate the skill for the deadly wires forged of Craft though he wondered what else they might be put to use to. Always looking for new tools and to master them while Faeril was off doing her business, and not wearing herself to the bone doing it as she was prone to do, Gen made a mental note to ask the Dea Al Mon about the spell later. When they survived this.

However, the group outside shifted as one of their number lashed out with the power of his Tiger-eye Jewel to clash against Mikhail's Grey. "There's more of us than you!" Called on fighter with a mocking grin. "And more on the way, so what do you think you'll get by fighting?" Some seemed to agree while others shifted nervously. Unhappy with how quickly their brothers-in-arms went down. Though considering that it was Denvar who gave voice to the thought.

"What did they think they would get? They were looking for the Reaper and they balk at a Grey Jewel?" Gen nodded though he didn't elaborate himself. This entire thing smelled like a farce and a trap. But why on earth would they bring the fight to a Black Widow and the Reaper? Unless they were bluffing on the Reaper being there and using it as a smokescreen to get at Faeril. Gen gritted his teeth. He truly hated politics.

The two men in Mikhail's wires had remained still but the third who was engaged with Dareen was covered in cuts from the wires where he had been forced to block blows or tried to strike a few of his own. "I see you shattered witch!" Snarled the man, his wings remaining omniously still, something Mikhail might take note of as they were by far the most delicate part (and in some cases the only delicate part) of an Eyrien.

As Fatima and Xandar arrived they would see a crowd of fighters grouped outside Faeril's front door and the Reaper would smell blood. These Eyrien warriors were well equipt with weapons and light armor. The door to the eyrie was open and three were within as was obvious. The ring of sword on sword audible though muffled by the stone of the eyrie.

Jandar’s gaze jerked to Fatima when she asked the Markov Warlord Prince to carry her off and fly, but although he frowned heavily at the situation, he didn’t obstruct them from departing. Instead, he turned to catch up with Fatima. Jassen followed as well, though much more sullenly, and the Kaeleeran Warlord determined to keep an eye on the old drunk. Fatima might trust him and be fond of him, but clearly his idiotic tendencies were to be wary of. “I see,” Jandar said, relieved yet frustrated that there was no clear evidence as to what SaDiablo had been up to and what his future role may be. “Meeting him might clarify the situation,” he needled mildly. “Do you know where he is?” Privately, he contemplated what the something the Black Widow referred to might be. However, if she didn’t know, he was unlikely to guess. And surely, she’d had speculations of her own. Yet…they had only met. That, and the nature of her caste made it all the more understandable why she wasn’t forthcoming. “Hmm, shame you can’t carry us as well,” he teased Faeril as she loudly cursed the male Eyrien who’d gladly taken off with Fatima. That would be a sight, Jandar mused – an Eyrien female struggling to lift two males and fly with them. Jandar shook his head with a chuckle; even with craft, there were limits to what was possible, and a trio flying up a cliff on a single set of wings was one of it. Keeping an eye on Jassen, he ascended the stairs with the Black Widow.

Dareen's gaze hardened as it became apparent that peace, even temporary, was no longer an option. The Eyriens at this house would kill everyone were they presented an opportunity. Mikhail and herself were so far doing an adequate job at holding the front entrance to the house. The enemy may wise up and give up their brute force tactics and try for another entrance. But that would split them up, and the three brothers in the room could engage the enemy wherever they tried to flank. As far as house defences went, this wasn't going terribly. For every defender in the house, there were two enemies outside. Five versus ten. Dareen had seen worse odds.

Going quiet, Dareen lunged back into engagement range with the ensnared Purple Dusk warrior that had lead the charge. The front parlor filled with the sound of clashing steel as the mercenaries took their blade to each other. Given that Dareen had full mobility and the Purple Dusk had none, the advantage was obviously the Witch's. He was on the defensive, and the longer one is on the defensive, the more likely it is for one to die.

And die he did.

Her flashing sabre went for an overhead strike, and the Purple Dusk moved his sword to counter it, raising it above his head. Frenzy had kicked in, he was just trying to defend himself and survive, but his comrades offered him no salvation. Thus, Dareen cancelled her overhead strike and quickly repositioned her sabre into a thrust. He was too late, and the tip of the sabre slipped effortlessly into his throat, penetrating his shield and skin. There was no blood and no sound. His eyes widened and he struck at Dareen, but she blocked it with her buckler. For a moment the two were locked in this pose, his blade stuck against Dareen's buckler, and her sword lethally jammed into his left carotid artery.

The moment passed, and Dareen slammed her buckler down upon his face. With a resounding crack she pulled the blade free and blood began to spew violently forth. He was unconscious from the shield strike, and by the time he woke up, he would be dead. Still stuck in the wires he went limp and Dareen briefly reflected in her shining sabre's steel. First blood. Electricity and adrenaline flowed from the tips of her fingers to the core of her chest. "Those wires are deadly, Mikhail. One down!" She announced loudly, not taking her eyes off the fight.

Regulating her breathing, the Pruulish Witch stood her ground against the incoming invaders. Refocusing on her Craft shield, she readied her buckler and blade.

---

---

Fatima had just enough time to fling her arms around the Eyrien’s neck and throw the taunt of “See you at the hilltop!” before the sudden shock of being airborne cause her stomach to drop into her knees. She gasped as they ascended, the feeling of being so far from the ground was dizzying! She peeked her face out from where she had pressed it to Xandar’s shoulder. The world had dropped so far away. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates as she looked up at the man who carried her.

The initial shock was wearing off and her face split into a wide grin as she laughed with true mirth. Before she responded she let out a delighted woop, wiggling a bit in his arms as she did so and then strengthened her hold on him in fear she would fall. And again she laughed. “I’ve never flown before! I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to be a falcon. It’s… absolutely breathtaking!” She tried to turn to see if she could find the group below but had no luck. “I don’t mind walking though,” she said as an afterthought. And as a second after thought she realized she was up in the air with no wings herself, with the Queen Killer. At least this would be a good test of loyalty. Or her death.

Xandar laughed slightly as he saw her excited face in his arms, although he could certainly tell this was her first time flying. Most would either be very fascinated by the heights, scared of them and clinging for dear life, or some mixture of both. As an Eyrien he was very used to the feeling of flying it was almost like running, it felt great but it was just a natural part of life.

“Walking is a bit of a pain when it’s up a mountain dear. I would rather fly if it means getting somewhere far quicker. Although when you fly as much as I have you get used to it I suppose.” he chuckled, his wings flapping in the cool breeze as he reached the summit and paused for a moment in mid-air, keeping them aloft. It seemed that there was a scuffle, several heavily armed Eyrien men were trying to make their way through the front door of Faeril’s dwelling. The Reaper smelled blood.

“It seems we have some… unexpected company, Queen Fatima.”

She followed his gaze down to the ground. She could not make out exact uniforms, but could tell that the men were certainly not welcome. Frowning, she turned her face up toward him. “Is life with the Widow always this exciting?” she inquired with a note of humor.

“To be fair, I have only been here a day. And so far? Yes.” He said with some truth to it as he quietly landed down behind one of the few trees in the front yard. He set Fatima down on her feet, taking her by the shoulders as he felt his adrenaline surge. “Now listen to me. I’m going to handle our… guests, with a warm welcome. I advise you to stay here until the dust has settled. It’d be very bad on my resume if you got hurt already.”

Fatima pouted, crossing her arms beneath her chest. “I’m a healer too, you know. Not just a Queen. I could be there to help anyone hurt. Well, anyone on our side I guess.”

Xandar shook his head, patting Fatima’s as he looked over and pointed at the front door. “Alright, now how do you suppose you’re going to get in there and heal anybody with all of them standing in your way? That’s why I am going to remove them from the premises. Then you can do your job. Deal?”

“But, I could probably hit them with something. Like…” She looked around a moment before picking up a large, thick branch. “Like this!” Unfortunately for her, this branch, while quite large and girthy, was particularly old and would break upon impact with anything.

He took the stick in his one hand, snapping it in half and setting the half he had broken back down on the ground. “I like the enthusiasm, but please stay out of this. This is for your own safety. You have to trust me to protect you if you want me on your court, right?” The Reaper smirked, turning away from her. He vanished his armor on, a dark black color which hugged his muscular form as his eyes fixed on the group. His ebon grey now hung on his neck, and he used his craft to enhance his strength, feeling like he could lift a mountain in this state. Stronger, faster, more agile, this technique he learned turned him into a super soldier of sorts, although the effects only lasted as long as he kept the energy for it. And he had a feeling he’d have to use a lot.

“I won’t be long.” Xandar said in a now dead serious tone, vanishing his warblade in his hand as he got ready for a charge.

Fatima huffed as she watched him get battle ready, tossing her useless stick to the side. She maintained in her mind that his strength was what broke it. Not the feebleness of the weapon. Regardless she crossed her arms again and said, “That’s what they always say,” in a quiet grumble. Finally, seeing she wasn’t going to get across to him she threw her hands dramatically into the air. “Guess I’ll go find a place to hide then!” The notes to her tone were lemon sour. However, she was already planning the best way to sneak around and maybe punch someone. Well… Probably not that, but at least be more helpful than sitting on the sidelines helplessly. She could probably throw rocks or something. Right?

Ignoring the quiet grumbling behind him, he was in a zone as he smelled blood and fear. He felt the Ebon-Grey cloak his body in a shield as he got ready to lunge, looking at the group of soldiers in front of him. There were nine in total out front, ranging from Purple to Green it seemed, and three more inside. It was quite the task force just for a common house raid, and he had a feeling they were after him. He didn’t want to hurt the rest of the people or the house though, but he had to do something. They could handle the rest of the three themselves surely, but he needed to cut the others off so they would face him. A plan hatched in his head.

A near black dome enveloped the nine soldiers, and before they knew what happened, Xandar leaped forward in the air with his wings spread wide and his sword in hand. Before the soldiers could react, The Reaper slammed down into the ground with force, sending a blast shooting forward that sent five of them careening into the shield dome. Two of them died from the impact, plastered against the dome in a bloody heap as three more blacked out from the blast. The other four had braced slightly before impact, and they turned to look back at him as he heft his blade on his shoulder.

“Be careful what you wish for, because death is always lurking around the corner.”

Meanwhile Fatima took the chance, once his back was turned, to make her way through the forested mountainside and up toward where the men were. She gathered good, sharp looking rocks along the way. While she was attempting to find a nice tree to safely throw the rocks from, a dome of ebon-grey appeared. She frowned, suspecting it would not only keep things in but also out. She tossed one of her rocks and found her suspicion to be true.

She figured it was safe enough to do so, since she could not get in, and howled like a wolf when some of the attackers fell. As a healer Fatima wondered if that was against some sort of code. Like she was supposed to heal everyone or something and only wish a being good will. In the end, what did it truly matter? Cuz these suckers needed to go down. As the fight continued she now looked for a way to get around the dome and moved toward the side of the Eyrie.

"Regrettably." Mikhail replied to Gennar as he heard his words. Truth be told, he did want that to be solved quickly and without much trouble, since the more people knew about his ability, more probable it would be that his identity got discovered. Unfortunately, it seemed like things wouldn't end without bloodshed. Given their level of skill, it shouldn't be too hard...

But Mikhail had overlooked a small detail about the whole situation, which he only became aware when Denvar stated that it was quite strange that they didn't seem to be prepared at all to fight against Mikhail, let alone against Xandar and Faeril together. It was quite obviously a trap. Now, what where they planning with that? There could be a few reasons... They could have sent those guys there to make Faeril and the others spill blood first, gaining a legitimate reason to go all out on them, or... Somehow they could know that Faeril wasn't home and that could be merely a distraction... No matter what was their objective, Mikhail and the others had already fell into their trap...

Interrupting his thoughts, Mikhail heard the voice of one of the men who was caught on his wired, yelling towards Dareen as he continued to struggle against the wires and fight against her, making them dig deeper and deeper into his flesh. Truth be told, Mikhail was impressed by how brave or maybe foolish the man was. While the others knew that their lives were on Mikhail's hands, he seemed to ignore his situation and kept on struggling and fighting, almost as if he didn't cared about his own life at all...

Dareen eliminated the purple jeweled warrior with a deadly and swift strike to the throat with her saber. She was obviously no stranger to killing and combat. As she praised Mikhail's wired, he couldn't help but let out a discreet smirk himself.

"They are useful, yes." Mikhail said with a chuckle as he saw the excitement and adrenaline on Dareen's voice. She was indeed an amusing woman.

"Firm and swift movements, no hesitation. I see experience... Good job." he said, genuinely impressed as he looked to the purple-jeweled warrior's lifeless body, hanging on his wires.

"That said... Whatever it was their plan, we played right into it. Just as Denvar said, it is simply impossible that they were expecting a positive result by sending this unit to capture both Faeril and Xandar... We might have to flee from the city or at least hide ourselves." Mikhail said with a serious expression as he pulled the wires with a swift movement of his hand, making them tense up violently around the other ones who were tangled upon them and ring with an audible sound, which would clearly cause quite a gory mess. Blood was already spilled, there was no use in holding himself back and not killing anymore. Plus, making a little 'show' always helped in situations like those, dealing a blow on the enemy's morale.

As he did so though, Mikhail noticed a black dome had suddenly appeared right outside the house, around the other nine warriors. Assuming it was Xandar, it was a good sign. If he had returned, Faeril was probably with him. Their arrival was a good sign, still... There were probably worse things to come. It was highly unlikely that the queen had sent just that small unit to deal with Faeril, who was already dangerous by herself but with Xandar as well, who had quite a reputation...

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

Faeril rustled her wings looking annoyed as they walked up the steep switchback stairs, giving Jandar a look that had withered lesser men. "Carrying you both would be the work of a warrior, my time is best spent doing things beside guiding you. Alas, someone must guide the drunk and the dim." She snipped at the Dhemlan Warlord, irritated by the question of if she knew were the Black Jeweled Warlord Prince was. As if she was looking even! She had been spinning webs to draw a Queen and a Court, not to keep an eye on Saetan SaDiablo. Though he would be trouble if he decided to take up against them, which she hoped the Court would have the strength to turn to their advantage- Or destroy him. The latter of which she was not going to mention to the Red Jeweled Warlord. He seemed to hold the Black Jeweled man in high regard and Faeril wasn't in the mood for an arguement about liabilities. "And no, I do not know where he is, though I can hazard that he's at the Hyallian Queen's feet." Though she had never been certain that the man had been their willingly. There were too many rumors about the distress of deaths of Queens and various men. Leading the Eyrien woman to have too many questions.

Jassen glared at the two strangers his Lady had taken up with. A Black Widow who held no loyalties to any Court and that wasn't even bringing in the fact they were outlawed. Unnatural women who could twist a man's mind and mutilated their bodies for the rumored 'snake-tooth'. From what the man knew it was a nail that was filled with poison that could and would kill a man. A secretive group that didn't have the legitimacy to operate in the open and served some High Priestess. It was rumored that that particular caste had dipped their hands into the minds of the Queens to twist their decisions to best suit the interest of the Black Widows. Though he noted that this one was breathing heavily as she moved up the steep stone stairs. Perhaps this would work to his interest, he could take her out at the top of the cliff and thus keep Fatima safe from this bitch's plying control- if it wasn't already too late. He hoped it wasn't, Fatima was their Queen and they desperately needed her.

Faeril paused as she swore viciously, her wings spreading to block Jandar and Jassen from continuing. A Sapphire Warlord Princes stood before her, flanked by a Blood Opal Prince and an Opal Warlord Prince. All Eyriens and all armed with deadly warblades. They had wings and would be able to fly, so knocking them off would not be viable. Then again, attacking them would not be wise. Her Red Jewel was nearly drained and these three finely dressed men were rather close to the Queen who had been harassing the village. "And why does Lady Melian send her Consort, her Master of the Guard's second in command, and her-" Faeril smirked as she eyed the Blood Opal Prince, "Bastard born, offspring?" The 'bastard-born' snarled and stepped forward, but paused as the other two imposing figures moved slightly to head off his advance.

"We figured you might be inclined to hear out our Queen. It seems she is in need of a Healer." Smirked Haelendar, the Sapphire Consort. For all he was essentially the Queen's chosen lover, he was not lacking in his skills as a warrior. "Someone of your famed talents."

"If I refuse? I have guests and patients to tend to enough already." Faeril bristled as she prepared to call in the Red.

Haelendar shrugged as he, seeming to be the speaker of the group, continued. "Then we are under orders to arrest you for various crimes. The daughter of the late Queen Nivarian. Possibly even her killer." Faeril's face turned to a hard mask as she cursed herself a fool. Trouble had been coming and while she looked for an answer to the larger picture she had dismissed the smaller one.

Ahkevron Residence, Aven, Askavi Terreille
@13org @Zoey White @eclecticwitch @Slim Shady
The brothers shoved out the door as the remaining men were ripped apart by Mikhail's wires. Denvar wincing as he looked at the blood-smeared entryway. Faeril was very particular about her home and bloodstains were going to drive her up the wall with fury. He pitied the poor bastard who got the receiving end of her tongue for that. Sincerely hoping it would not be him. The great dark dome was darker than grey for sure, but it's tone was not the dark of black. That color belonged to only one man in all the Realms that the Warlord Prince knew of, and he was certainly nowhere near here. Watching he edged about the dome, waiting for it to go down as he spotted the men withing fighting for their lives against the Reaper. A good thing the Ebon-Grey Warlord Prince had shown up when he did, but Denvar was troubled by what he did not see.

Bellinar was hard on the heels of his brother, clapping Dareen on the back as he past. It was Gen who was the last of the Saroth brothers who moved to exit the house. "Looks like this mess will be finished soon. Shame can't be said of the house, Faeril is going to skin you." The Green Jeweled man noted to Mikhail with far too much amusement. "Now who in Hell is that?" The Warlord muttered as he saw a tiny figure slip around the dome and towards the entrance of the eyrie. Moving along the garden path, lest he tramples Faeril's herbs or flowers, Gen siezed the woman by the back of her clothes and lifted her over the hedge and onto the path as he shooed her towards the entrance. "Did I miss Faeril opening a bed and breakfast? Lassy, you don't happen to know where a crotchety, blue-eyed Eyrien woman is? And while I'm thinking on it. Who in the Darkness are you?" The tall Eyrien questioned sharply, though there was a bit of amusement in the golden eyes.

Jandar smirked at Faeril, though his eyes narrowed automatically at her insult. Yet, he released the slight tension; sarcastic banter he could do and even enjoy, he just hadn’t expected it. “Yes, our dear companion here does need looking after,” he retorted nonchalantly, redirecting the drunk and dim comments to fall both on Jassen, though he was very much aware the dim part was meant for him. “But then again, that wouldn’t have been necessary if you had chosen to deal with him already,” he added on a sigh, as if he were the one most inconvenienced by Jessen. Truthfully, he was just poking at Faeril – both for hesitation of not simply killing the man (though of course he understood why she hadn’t chosen that route) as well as for being unable to alter his memory, which he suspected was due to the exhaustion the Inkeeper had hinted at. The Warlord wondered if the Black Widow was the kind to stab (or worse, poison) him if she were irritated enough. As they continued the ascent, however, she found something much better to wound him – mentioning how SaDiablo was either a conspirator or prisoner of the Hyallian Queen. Jandar frowned, continuing on in a thoughtful – and admittedly somewhat sullen – silence.

Apart from brooding, he spent the rest of their journey observing Jassen. The old drunkard was obviously beyond enraged. Would he attack the Black Widow again? Given how foolish the male was, it was certainly possible. He really did have to wonder why Faeril hadn’t killed him. Was it simply to curry favor with Fatima? Or was it some sort of odd hidden kindness of hers, as unlikely as that was? Jandar didn’t know, but he’d keep an eye on Jassen in any case. At the top of the cliff, the silence was interrupted by Faeril swearing quietly – Jandar was once again somewhat impressed by her sharp tongue and coloured words – and spread her wings to prevent Jassen and himself from passing forward. With a glance at their opponents, Jandar drew the knife still sheathed at his back and pointed it at Jassen’s back, his actions obscured from their enemies’ sight by Faeril. “Listen, old man,” he hissed quietly – Jassen and Faeril would be able to hear him, but the three opponents facing them were unlikely to catch what he was whispering. “I would like to hope you realized on your own we need to co-operate for this, but just in in case you haven't...Dare to even try anything, and I will skin you alive before ripping your heart out. Are we clear?” he gritted out in an undertone, his attention split half between Jassen and the three intruders. If he had to, he’d incapacitate the inconvenience first, then help backup the Black Widow. “Faeril, direct attack, diversion, or deception? I’ll follow your lead,” he added in a murmur, not expecting the female Eyrien to answer him verbally. He was ready to summon his weapons and draw on his Red jewel if he had to, however.

Dareen cringed as suddenly almost everyone outside was the dead and Gen patted her on the back. Good job, everyone! The Reaper was here, sadistic as ever. He had created a little fighting to ring to murder everyone inside. Still on edge, Dareen glanced over at Mikhail. "Lots of experience, yeah." She quietly affirmed his suspicions, her eyes flicking between the blood on her blade and the corpses before her. Grim work. She wondered how many people would miss them.

"Whatever their plan was, it's a stupid one. Now we've the chance to escape. Whatever three dimensional game of checkers they're trying to play, it's bullshit. When you have the location of the target, it's best to gather as much strength as possible and ambush them as soon as you can before they have the chance to escape. A Black Widow on the run is...well...nevermind." She trailed off, compressing her lips.

Stepping over the bloody remains she made her exit and tapped her crimson sabre against the dome.

More people were drawing near. She pressed her nose against the dome. "You boys ready to give up yet?" She shouted, not sure how much sound get could through the dome. Hopefully there needn't be any more bloodshed. There was nothing these men could say that their superiors didn't already know. One could surmise the Reaper was here by the human paste sinking into the mud.

Location: Faeril's Eyrie, front door

The rest of the soldiers were all but in a panic as Xandar laughed softly to himself, a wild look in his eyes as he stared at them like a wolf hunting prey. He let the tip of his blade trail along the ground as he took his slow and methodical approach, cornering the last four soldiers. The bravest of them all spoke up, brandishing his sword in an attempt to rally his comrades. "We have him outnumbered four to one! We can surround him so we can have the advantage, he's trapped in here with us! If we all attack at once we..."

The Reaper's laughter grew louder, like somebody had told him the funniest joke in the world, which only made the soldiers more frightened at his unusual demeanor. "Oh it's quite the contrary..." Xandar said, gesturing to the large dome that encased all of them. As his hand gestured he was suddenly in front of the man who spoke up, clutching his neck in his hand as he lofted him clear off the ground, his other hand holding his rather large sword with ease. The Warlord Prince looked the Eyrien dead in the eye, Xandar's face now a deadly serious one as the man's face froze in horror, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"None of you seem to understand. I'm not locked up in here with you. You're locked in here with me."

A sickening crunch echoed as the life faded from the man's eyes, his windpipe and spinal cord shattering in his neck as his lifeless corpse dropped to the ground with a thud, his body discarded like trash. It seemed that the fear keeping the other soldiers frozen subsided, seeing their companion died as the rest charged at him with utter rage. It seemed like they knew that surrendering would do them no good anymore, and that he would kill them anyhow. Whether they really thought they had a chance or were just fighting for honor was a mystery, but it was quite clear they were no match at all for a monster like him. A Queen Killer, filled with pure unadulterated rage which would only be quenched by death and violence.

Even three to one the speed and power of the Ebon-Grey combined with master swordsmanship kept all three swords at bay with his own, parrying and blocking each shot like a whirlwind. Sparks flew as metal hit metal, the three remaining Eyriens trying to circle around him to gain some kind of advantage, but expert footwork kept Xandar one step ahead. It was like a hunter playing with his food, showing off his skills and showing how useless their attempt was to fight back. Except his confidence overlooked a small detail, his prior injury on his left side, and it seemed his defenses were weaker on that side.

As all three attacked at once, Xandar turned his blade to block two of the Eyrien's swords at a time, but one of the three took a lower route and sliced into his left knee. How could this be? Was he losing his touch? As the fight slowly progressed on it seemed his stamina was waning, and it took more effort to just keep the three at bay. Some times Xandar forgot just how mortal he was, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep this up forever. He had to end it soon if he didn't want this to bite him in the ass.

All it took was one misstep to turn the tide of a sword fight, and Xandar decided to help his opponents with that , using his craft to slide one of the soldier's foot a few feet off track as he went to re-position himself. The man's legs went opposite ways, and the Eyrien was in a beautifully painful split, and screams of pain were shortly heard afterwards. In that moment of confusion Xandar went to work, taking a few swings and pouncing on a Green-Jeweled soldier, overwhelming him with power and quick sword swings. His shield wouldn't last, as his body was cut to ribbons in seconds, clean slices through his torso as blood covered his blade. A quick slice through the skull finished him off, cutting deep into his body.

However, his blade seemed to be stuck for a moment, and in that time the last remaining soldier hacked at The Reaper with his sword, crashing against his shield. The shield around his left shoulder cracked, leaving a glancing blow on his skin as the sword started to pierce his defenses. As the Purple-Dusk soldier went to crash his sword down upon Xandar's head, he felt his sword stop short as Xandar's hand reached out, stopping it with his craft. He ripped the sword from the soldier, leaving his own sword in the corpse as he settled this with his bare hands. He was just as skilled hand to hand, as he very quickly delivered a punch that damn near broke the jaw of the Eyrien soldier, sending him stumbling back. The soldier tried to answer back as Xandar easily dodge the punch, before delivering to quick jabs that cracked lots of ribs. Before he could react, he felt his head get tugged forward by Xandar's craft as he got pulled face first into an elbow, teeth shattering and nose breaking as he fell backwards into the dirt.

It took a few moments before the Eyrien slowly got up, barely having the strength to do so. The soldier spit out blood, doubling over before feeling himself get grabbed and lifted up in the air. To week to fight back, he looked up at the sky in horror as he silently accepted his death. His body dropped like a rock, The Reaper's knee slamming into his back as his lifeless body slumped in a heap, twisted at an odd angle now. Xandar's face was stone cold, turning around to slowly slide his blade out of the fallen corpse, fresh blood coating the blade.

This left one last soldier, but the man already had put his sword down, kneeling with his hands clasped as he looked down at the ground. He didn't move, and it was clear that there was no use fighting. The man accepted his death. Xandar slowly walked up to the man, not uttering a word as he stood in front of him, looking down. He slowly raised his sword, high above his head as the Eyrien pleaded and cried, but realized his effort was useless. The man took a deep breath, looking forward as he talked in a shaky breath. "I understand it's no use after what we've done. I accept my fate. All I ask is a swift death and a proper burial. As an Eyrien it is an honor dying on the battlefield to a worthy opponent. I welcome death."

The sword came down hard, but there wasn't a slicing sound, and blood didn't spray everywhere. Instead there was a loud thud, as the hilt of the blade made contact with the man's skull, and he slumped unconscious into the ground. The dome slowly faded, as The Reaper sheathed his sword and looked down at the man.

"This is true, but you will not die today. I've lost too many of my brethren to a world gone mad. I fight for my people, not against them."

Xandar took out a cigarette, casually lighting it as he walked up to the group huddled near the entrance to the Eyrie. Covered in blood and wearing full armor and brandishing a sword, he took a long drag of his cigarette, letting a slow puff out as he eyed up the group. He walked firmly up to Gen as he grabbed the woman he was holding, seizing her from his grasp.

"Well, I took care of your guests. This one's mine though, and I'll be taking her back thank you."

---

---

Fatima made a choking noise as she was lifted by the back of her tunic and set on the ground. She struggled against the man's hand like a drunken cat in a sack. She flailed and kicked and spit and hissed until her feet touched the ground. She turned her body to look at the Eyrien who had picked her up and now pushed her toward a group of people. Her face was set in a grim frown and her body tensed with all the vim and vinegar she would unleash upon the man. Great. Just great. This was how she was going to fucking die. Awesome. She should have just listened to Xandar and stayed put. She was shaking in fear.

She paused, the trembling quelling when he mentioned crotchety Eyrien woman. "You are Lady Faeril's people. Thank goodness. She is walking up the path to get here." Fatima placed a hand against her heart and breathed out a deep sigh of her relief. The man had also asked who she was. She lifted her white gold eyes to his face and gave him one of her charming smiles. "I'm Fatima Damiana. A pleasure to meet you. How do I call you?" She reached out the hand that had been on her chest to offer the man a handshake.

The dome faded and soon the sweet scent of smoke foretold the coming of the Queen Killer. She turned her face toward him and lit up like a beacon as he approached.* However, when he got to the small group she felt herself pulled away from Gen. "Hey now," she said with a playful pout, "I'm not some trinket to be pushed and pulled about at the trader's stalls." Her eyes fell on the blood that spattered Xandar and realized that not all of it belonged to the enemy.

Though she did not know the man well her features filled with her concern. Brown's knit and the playfulness fading from her face into worry. She reached out a hand and touched his elbow. "You're hurt," she said quietly. Her voice cracked with her distress. Blood made her uneasy. People hurt made her uneasy. "Let me fix you up."

Double post, ignore it X_X

---

As expected, the entryway became a gory mess thanks to Mikhail's wires. It was a shame that the other warriors weren't able to see it, but that didn't matter. They would soon be dead anyways... Dareen and the Eyrien brothers had similarly finished what they needed to do. Still, one thing seemed wrong about all that situation. There surely had to be some kind of plan the queen had. It was simply unthinkable that she would sent such a small force behind them or even make a plan that gave them a chance to escape... Unless she was expecting them to slaughter the warriors she sent...

Interrupting his thoughts, Gennar spoke to him as he passed nearby Mikhail, noting the mess that he had done inside Faeril's house and how mad she would be when she saw it. Indeed, Mikhail had completely forgotten about the mess, and looking better at what he had done, it would indeed be a living hell to clean...

"I... We were surrounded so I thought that maybe..." Mikhail started, trying to explain himself without much success. Who knew what Faeril would do when she saw what happened inside her house...

"... Blood stains are... fairly difficult to clean..." Mikhail said with a deep sigh after a moment of silence. He knew very well how troublesome it was to clean blood due to his work and just looking at the huge mess at the entryway, he knew it would take a good while to clean everything.

Dareen was the next to talk, making Mikhail forget about the mess for a while. He couldn't help but to let out a surprised expression as Dareen confirmed his suspicions of her having experience doing such work.
Just like Dareen said, the plan didn't make any sense at first look. Was it really simply a dumb plan or there was more behind it?

"I do agree with you. It was indeed a dumb plan... That said... There should be absolutely no reason for the Queen to hold back and not send everything she had to deal with Xandar and Faeril. After all, just like you said, she already knew their location... I may be overthinking this but I don't think that someone like a district queen would make such a... flawed plan." Mikhail said, reflecting on Dareen's words.

"I don't think that there will be any left to give up though..." Mikhail said with a chuckle as he heard Dareen, approaching the dome and shouting if they were ready to give up.

Just after she did so though, Mikhail noticed an adorably small figure running around the dome, towards the entrance where they were. It was clear just after taking a single glance at the woman that she was incredibly out of place amidst such a bloodbath. Mikhail would have asked who she was, but Gennar was faster than him, grabbing the unknown woman by her clothes and lifting her unceremoniously as he asked her who she was. Her reaction uppon being grabbed and the innocent, charming smile she gave to Gennar upon greeting him only reinforced the idea that she didn't really fit with the scenery around her at that moment.

It was then that the grey dome came down, showing a blood soaked Xandar walking towards them as he lit a cigarette. As it was expected, it was an absolute bloody mess inside the dome. Approaching them, he stopped in front of Gennar, stating that he had taken care of his 'guests' and grabbing the small witch from Gennar's hands, again, without an ounce of delicacy or gentleness. Whoever she was, she seemed to be Xandar's... companion, maybe? Although their relationship was unknown to Mikhail, he didn't care that much about it, since the small witch wasn't really his problem. There was one thing that was much his problem though...

"Xandar... Where is Faeril?" Mikhail asked, with a cold, piercing stare. She left the house with him eariler, but despite him having returned, with a stranger nonetheless, Mikhail saw no signs of Faeril anywhere.

Even though the woman, who introduced herself as Fatima Damiana, was in the middle of healing Xandar, Mikhail couldn't ignore the fact that Faeril wasn't with him. It was obvious to him that Fatima wasn't really comfortable around so much blood and seemed to be even more when she saw Xandar wounded. While Mikhail could sympathize with how she was feeling and wouldn't like to do anything to make her even worse than she was already feeling with the whole situation, there were more pressing issues to deal with.

"It is highly unlikely that a district queen would make such a flawed plan as just sending a small unit to her target's house. Especially since she knew you were here. Faeril IS in danger." Mikhail said, looking to Xandar.

"Where is Faeril?" Mikhail asked again, with a serious tone. It didn't take much to notice the veiled threat on Mikhail's voice. It wasn't a surprise to anyone there that he didn't trust Xandar either.

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

Jassen stiffened as he felt Jandar behind him, the weight of the sheathed knife pressing into his back. As much as he was tempted to shove the Black Widow off the stairways, he was not foolish enough to trust these members of another Queen's Court. It went against his main desire to keep Lady Fatima in hiding. If she was to be revealed the other Queens would try to break her or bend her to their agenda. Outcomes that would put their beloved little village and the First Circle into jeopardy. He couldn't and wouldn't risk it unless there was no other choice. Hissing back equally low to the Dhemlan man who had befriended their Grey Queen, Jassen kept his words short and quiet as to not be heard by the warriors. "Do you think I want to bring harm to my Queen?"

Faeril pretended not to hear the conversation behind her as she studied the three members of Lady Melian's First Circle. The Blood Opal could have been Second Circle but nothing lower than that. Even then he was most likely a spy to keep the rest in check even within the Queen's Court. Rustling her wings in a nervousness she could not hide the woman knew fighting was not a viable option. Not when they were on this narrow stairway when her back up lacked wings. Glancing back at Jean when he offered to stand by whatever decision she made proved to be a fatal mistake.

Haelendar lunged forward his hand gripping the witch's wrist as he yanked her back into the trio. An action that threw Faeril off balance, though Jean would not a flash of temper in her icy eyes. Her glove on her right hand vanished revealing to the man's keen eye a small sharp nail that struck into the offending man's jaw as she grabbed his face and sought to drive her thumb into his eye. There were several swears as Haelender howled in pain, a sound that surely carried. His comrades yanked the witch off, and with Faeril already tired, it was not much a hassle, pinning her to the stoney side of the carved stairs. "You bitch." Snarled the Consort as he gripped his jaw. "You poisoned me!" Faeril smirked in satisfaction even as her right arm was hell tight to the stone by one man, the other pinning herself. She had filled him with a good portion of her venom before the other two had recognized what was happening. It was merely a shame that the poison would not kill him as quickly as she would have liked. It would be a long and ugly death and one that was well deserved.

Haelendar, however, placed a Sapphire shield between himself and the other two men who had come with the Black Widow. He would not risk an interruption as the Opal Warlord Prince forced the witch's hand open and pinned her ring finger to the stone. Grinning like a manic with a long bleeding scratch down his cheek that was turning an ugly red color. "You'll pay for that." Sword the man as he drew out a dagger testing it's edge. "We won't kill you, but we can't risk you harming our Lady." He sneered, "Or thinking you can get away."

Faeril struggled and thrashed against the two male bodies pinning her as she let out a piercing shriek of rage. She had heard tales of what befell the other Black Widows but had never considered that they might actually go such lengths. Cutting an Eyrien's wings off was a crime to the body and soul. It sealed them away from the sky and shunned them from their own society. A sad fact but there were a few women and men born every generation without wings to the shame of their parents. A throwback to when an Eyrien had taken a lover of another race. But removing a witch's finger to strip a Black Widow of her snake tooth, natural or otherwise, was simply cruel. Panicked Faeril let out a ringing shriek as her wings beat and slammed into the Blood Opal that pinned them. Halaender merely laughed and set the blade of the knife against the base of the ring finger.

Front Garden, Ahkevron Residence, Aven, Askavi Terreille
@13org @Zoey White @eclecticwitch @Slim Shady
The tiny woman was amusing, Gennar had to admit. A wild, snarling young Queen and while he by all right should have chucked her over the side of the cliff, Xandar's admission of knowing her soothed some of the Warlord's nerves. Though he wanted confirmation straight from Faeril before he took the young Fatima Damiana's word for truth. As the Ebon-Grey shield fell, the Green Jeweled Warlord noted his tow brothers walking among the killing field looking over the bodies for any calling cards or identification. A courtsey if they could deliever the bodies or at least find the order that the group was sent to their eyrie with. But it also alerted the oldest of the brothers as to a fact that chilled his blood.

But the Dea Al Mon beat him to it, questioning Xandar sharply as the taller Eyrien pulled the tiny Queen to him about Faeril's whereabouts. Gennar didn't like that the Black Widow was missing. It was dangerous for her to go off on her own on a good day, on a day like this? It was a stupid risk. Gripping the young queen's arm, the shorter male didn't release her into Xandar's hold. "A fair point. Where is Faeril Ashkevron, Xandar? Or did you just leave her to fend for herself after she pushed herself last night to heal you and Mikhail and sort out Dareen?" There was a cold tone to Gen's voice as he snarled deeper. "These men were a distraction."

"Gen, these are Lady Melian's people. I recognize a few." Bellinar stated in a worried tone. "Her Court was stirred up when I passed through." Gen swore and ran a hand through his head. Pulling Fatima back, he pushed the small girl gently behind him and out of the way of any potential fight. Turning to shove Xandar back away from Fatima despite knowing the dangers of stepping between a Warlord Prince and a Queen, if it was Xandar's Queen. Then his fist connected with the Warlord Prince's jaw.

"Where in Hell is Faeril, you son of a bitch? We entrusted her to you. She left the damn eyrie with you and you were responsible for her!" Raged the oldest of the brother, his siblings coming to grab his arms before he slugged the larger Eyrien. Cursing loudly, Gennar froze as a ringing shriek bounced across the mountain. His tanned face going white as his brother were paralyzed at the sound.

"They got her." Denvar whispered as Gen shook him off and took to the air, followed shortly by Bellinar.

---

---

Jandar huffed and re-sheathed the knife he’d pointed at Jassen. No, he didn’t think the man wanted to bring the harm to Fatima, but his preconceptions and reckless actions might just do so, no matter how well-intentioned he might be. Instead of saying that, however, he simply hissed out a low “Fine.” He focused fully on the three opponents, assessing their strength. This might be a theoretical three-on-three, but Faeril was exhausted (and not a warrior, as she’d pointed out), and Jassen certainly couldn’t be counted on to act. “Either help or don’t get in our way, then,” Jandar added to the older male, dismissing his presence for the moment.

The Kaeleeran Warlord readied his Red jewel, waiting for Faeril’s sign on how to act…but then the Black Widow turned to him to answer, and Jandar’s eyes widened as he saw the Sapphire Warlord Prince lunge for Faeril. Though ready to counter-act, the Warlord Prince was faster, manifesting a sapphire shield between the kidnapped Faeril and the two wingless males on the other side, and Jandar barely prevented himself from slamming face-first into the shield. He growled, summoning his sabre as he watched the goings on in frustrated horror. Faeril poisoned the Sapphire Warlord Prince, which was good, but that didn’t prevent his maniacal rambling as the other two men pinned down the Black Widow.

Jandar drew on the power of his Red, wrapping a tight coil of his power around the sabre, making it shine and buzz with power. He slammed the weapon forcefully into the shield with both arms, one palm wrapped around the hilt and the other helping by pushing onto its pommel. The physical force combined with his craft managed not only to crack the shield, but shattered it entirely. The Warlord thought his success may have been helped by how hasty the Sapphire Warlord Prince had been with placing the shield. Snarling, Jandar lunged at the male who was positioned over Faeril and threatening to mutilate her. His sabre was poised to slash at the male’s arm, intending to disarm him – in either meaning of the word.

Haelendar had cut the bitch's finger quite deeply as he felt the shield shatter. He had expected the two men to fight, but had not realized one of them wore the Red. Turning away from the witch, he swung his dagger up and with a show of skill vanished it and called in the deadly Eryien warblade to knock aside Jandar's attack. Swinging a punch that collided with the Dhemlan's head in a glancing blow. The Opal who was pinning Faeril's wings called in his own blade, intent on damaging the witch's wings. He managed to slice a nasty cut down the leathery membrane of one before Jassen tackled the man. The two tumbled onto the stairs in a tangle. With her wings free and bleeding, Faeril jerked and fought to run as the Blood Opal Warlord Prince held fast.

Jandar hissed at the blow to his head, but retaliated with a sweep of his legs, attempting to unbalance his opponent. Though he was concentrated on his own fight, he did notice peripherally that Jassen had joined the fight to help Faeril. He was honestly surprised; he’d have to re-evaluate his opinion of the male. He didn’t expect the old man to stand up for the Black Widow whom he’d not long ago attempted killing, the Eyrien female who was practical enough to suggest killing or wiping the drunk’s memories. If they all got through this, he’d certainly have to thank him for the back-up if nothing else. Inhaling with a flare of his nostrils, Jandar summoned his heather shield for extra protection against the Warlord Prince’s warblade. Recognizing the other as a skilled warrior, he approached cautiously, and yet attacked with no hesitation as he tested for the Eyrien’s weaknesses.

The leg sweep against the larger male did nothing as Haelendar snarled and brought the warblade down on the heather shield and he would have cleaved it if not for the Red shield that spun the attack to the side, courtesy of Faeril. "It will cut bone as well as flesh with ease! Do not be fooled!" The woman warned as she flung the Warlord Prince she was dealing with off the stairs and into open sky with her own Blood Opal. Sagging against the wall the woman staggered up the steps. Fighting was not an option for her at the moment. So her next option was flight by foot. The bastards had cut her wing and she didn't feel like risking more damage by trying to fly. Already tired from the the walk and the drain on her jewels, the witch scrambled up the steps desperate to escape the slaughter. For it would be a slaughter.

Jassen and his opponent were in a tangle. He had not joined the fight for the Black Widow. In truth, he had not considered the poisonous woman at all. Rather he was more intent on not letting news of his Queen reach the wrong ears and theses men were a threat to that. He would say it was to protect his Queen, but that was only a partial truth. Fatima's mother had been his Queen. He would have and had done anything for her. For Fatima he would protect the girl per the wishes of his Queen, but also to save his own skin. The First Circle would bear a brutal punishment for hiding a witch of such great power. So he fought. It was a ugly and brutal struggle. It did not end until there was a sickening crack, then the Eyrien rose from the ground and left the broken form of a member of Fatima's Court on the ground, his head at an odd angle.

Jandar frowned at having to be saved by Faeril, but coated his wooden shield with a double layer of Red shielding of his own in response. So, he would have to rely more on evasion and the power of his jewel against the warblade. He circled the Eyrien carefully, poking at slashing at various points of his body at various angles, his eyes primarily focused on his opponent’s eyes and only peripherally on his warblade. Glancing at the direction one moved or attacked in was rather involuntary, so if he could predict or perceive the Warlord Prince’s attack path, he could take advantage with a swift counter-attack. Of course, Jandar himself also had to keep an eye on the terrain and where he aimed with his sabre, so it might take him a bit to learn enough of the enemy’s patterns.

And while theoretically the Sapphire-wielding Eyrien would get weaker over time due to the Black Widow’s poison, he did not have the luxury of prolonging the time – mainly because just then a crunch and a swift glance to the source of the noise alerted him to the fact that Jassen had been killed off already. Faeril might distract one of the trio for a short while, but she was in no state to fight, so he'd soon have to face three Eyriens by himself. Grimly determined not to be spooked or distracted, Jandar baited the Sapphire Warlord Prince by pretending to freeze for half-a-second or less upon seeing the Blood Opal Prince killing Jassen. It was a believable reaction, and yet also risky. Jandar was prepared to side-step if his enemy decided to take the opening and strike at him, but it was a gamble. Even if he evaded swiftly and successfully, he'd still have to kill in one counter-strike to reduce the number of enemies. He had to. He did not know if he could, but wasted no time on hesitation or worry. He was simply...decisive. Putting it all on this chance to dispose of one enemy before the other two were able to attack him as well.

Xandar paused and chuckled a bit, gently setting down the feisty Queen as she joked around. "No my dear, you are much more valuable than a trinket. I'm just used to carrying you around I suppose." He took a long drag of his cigarette and raised an eyebrow, eyeing up his shoulder and knee, the places that had some glancing sword wounds on them. They weren't a huge deal, but annoying none the less. Once his adrenaline and craft stim wore off he'd probably feel them sting a bit more. Before he had time to respond, however, the rest of the members started suddenly barraging him with questions like he was under interrogation. The main concern was of Faeril, which he had left to scale up to the Eyrie with the other two. "Listen, I was under no order to babysit her. I offered, but she seemed perfectly capable walking back up, and two of the Queen's men are with her. You should be glad I took care of those bastards first and didn't lead her into an ambush. You ungrateful pricks. I don't even get a thanks for saving your sorry asses." he sighed, taking a long drag of his cigarette, puffing out a bit of smoke. As he felt himself shoved away from Fatima something pulled in him, and his heartbeat picked up. "Look, if you are so damn worried then why don't you go down there and..." He was cut off as he felt a fist connect with his jaw, a sucker punch, causing his head to turn stiffly. This man had the audacity to push him away from his Queen, blame Xandar for HIS own job, not Xandar's, and then has the audacity to strike him? His blood boiled, and he cracked his neck as he slowly walked forward.

Gennar bristled as his brother left their scavenging to rush back in hopes to head off the oncoming fight. While both Denvar and Bellinar were good friends of Faeril, Gen had always been there with the Black Widow. A constant companion and protector, even a lover for a period in her life though the Warlord had taken no joy from it. "No, you weren't under any damn order." Gennar growled deeply, his wings spreading as he moved to a more solid stance. Snorting in scorn the man sneered. "She should have left you to your wounds. Once a rogue always a rogue. We could have dealt with these fools ourself, but you just had to show off like a peacock for your little-"
"Gennar!" Barked Bellinar gripping one of his brother's arms as he jerked the male to the side, or attempted to. Gen would not be moved as he bristled, ready to go toe to toe with the Ebon-Grey.
"Oh, why don't we go down there? Why don't we fly in circle making a scene! Great idea, we have this mess and a missing Black Widow! Who, by the way, wouldn't admit to a weakness even if she was blindly flying through the Khaldharon Run!" Gen roared, naming the most dangerous section of the Winds that the Eyriens used to test their warriors. It was a incredibly dangerous and not all those who tested it survived.

Xandar stood mere inches away from Gennar, looking down at him as his muscles rippled, anger swelling up as he clenched his fists. He was seconds from blowing this man off the face of the Earth if it wasn't for Fatima standing right behind him. He looked the man dead in the eye, the anger very apparent in his scowl as his face and jaw looked stiff. "So you, her protector, are going to blame ME for her being on her own? Isn't it YOUR job to guard her? And those other two? Maybe if you got off your asses and went with her this would have been okay. Instead you had your thumb in your ass here. Half those soldiers were a darker jewel than you anyhow, casualties would have been sustained if I didn't come here. Oh wait, that's right.... Even Faeril is stronger than you. What good would a pathetic, weak, insignificant man like yourself do in the face of danger? I'm sure SHE would be the one protecting YOU. Blame me all you want for letting the woman be, I'm not her babysitter. I've saved her life once already today. " Xandar grabbed the front of Gennar's shirt, pulling him closer so they were eye level as Ebon-Grey starting forming around The Reaper's body. "Now I won't tell you again. Get out of my way before you start something you can't finish."

Denvar hissed and spread his wings, "Look before you speak. Gennar wears the Green. Higher than the bastards out there!" Insulted the male considered the Ebon Grey Warlord Prince with a nastly look in his gold eyes.
"Denvar!" Bellinar hissed to his brother, still attempting to keep some peace.
To no avail however, Gen snarled deeply tearing back from Xandar's grip. His shirt tearing off a lean and well trained body. "Saving her life once? From what." The man demanded shortly, looking doubtful.

"Check the bodies and I'm sure you'll find plenty of Green out there" Xandar snapped, before turning back to Gen. "There was an altercation at the bar, a misunderstanding. A knife inches from her neck, if not for my shield would have pierced her throat. But you wouldn't know that. Her so called protectors were up here eating breakfast and jacking off, but have the audacity to blame me for their shortcomings. Pathetic. I would be doing her a favor ending your life now. Xandar felt his adrenaline surge as he closed his right hand in a fist, his free hand, and sent it towards the man's jaw. "I said MOVE."

Gen's head snapped to the side as he rolled his neck to take the blow. It wouldn't break his jaw but there would a bruise that went to the bone. Bellinar grabbing his older's brother's one arm while Denvar seized the other. "Gen, dammit! Focus! Ashke needs your head on straight." The Tiger-eyed Warlord Prince hissed.
"So you just jack to the Queen's pleasure?" Gen was about to say something worse when a all too familiar voice bounced off the mountains in a shriek of agony and terror. It froze the brothers into place for a minute, their faces pale. Gen was the first to act as he shook and tried to fight his way free of his brother's hold before his leathery wings lifted him into the sky to find his missing friend. Faeril never screamed. If she did....
"If anything happens to her, it's your jewels." Hissed Bellinar, despite trying to keep the peace that horrid scream was too much for the wanderer.

As he heard the scream, he whipped his head around to locate the source of the sound. It sounded like a couple hundred feet down to where the stairs were... That was undoubtly Faeril. Could the woman really not take care of herself? For god's sake how was she still alive with these idiots trying to protect her. As the brothers scrambled to untangle themselves and go to save Faeril, Xandar put a Ebon-Grey shield over Fatima's body, cloaking her in the dark craft. "Do I have to do everything myself? Useless... Queen, please stay put and hide this time. I don't need anybody else in danger while I'm not around. I won't be long." And with that he took off, taking a running start and leaping off the cliff in a single motion, turning himself mid-air. It would take too long simply flying, so he summoned the supplies he was given by Randalvar on top of his body, holding them as he felt his weight increase dramatically. "I'll handle it. None of you are good for anything anyhow." And with that he dropped very quickly, scaling down the cliff at such an angle that he'd reach the side of the staircase in a few seconds. Damn it all. He couldn't leave the Widow alone for five seconds without something bad happening. If he didn't need her he probably wouldn't care, and beat the living hell out of Gennar. But, something seemed sweeter about doing their job better than they could. Physical pain was temporary after all.