Dareen had shied away from the dome as Xandar committed his gruesome acts of violence. "Yeah, no, sure. No survivors. Interrogation is overrated anyway." She grumbled to herself, finding a particularly large rock to sit on. Holding her bloody sabre upright, she fetched a cloth from her satchel and began wiping it off, some of the stray liquid flicking to the ground. Apparently Dareen did this often, as her blade caught the light so often it became difficult to look at as it shimmered in the late morning sun. Her small round shield was placed resting up right, the metal disk also polished as to be practically a mirror. Her weaponry contrasted brilliantly with her overall brown, red, and rustic aesthetic.

Stuffing the pink-tinted cloth back into her satchel, she rose just as Xandar vanished over the side of the cliff, telling all of them to stay behind because they were all useless. Typical pointless posturing. She tried not to let it get to her, but she did. Entirely apathetic, she plopped herself back down on the sunlit bouler.

Mikhail had a frighteningly cold, predatory stare towards Xandar as he stared him down. There were no excuses for having left Faeril behind, knowing that there were people who could go after her and Gennar seemed to share Mikhail's urgency regarding that matter as he asked Xandar the same question Mikhail did, with an equally cold tone.

It was obvious that the small unit sent by the queen were a mere distraction. Sent just to be slaughtered while other men went after Faeril. The real question is how she knew so fast that Faeril had went out? It was almost as the exact moment Faeril left her house, the queen already had everything prepared, just waiting for an opportunity to put her plan into action.

When Xandar finally opened his mouth to speak, the words which came out were no surprise to Mikhail. Claiming he was under no order to 'babysit' the very person who healed him, even risking her own well being to do so. His arrogance truly knew no bounds. Despite Mikhail's silence, the tension on his stare was becoming more and more apparent and to most people watching, it was obvious he had to use every fiber of his being not to kill Xandar where he stood.

Dareen also remained silent, keeping her eyes on her sabre as the Eyrien men had their worthless, time wasting squabble. The most vital and at risk members of the group had left by themselves and surprise surprise, something terrible had happened. Whoever the bumbling mercenaries sent to kill everyone at the house were, they had remarkably fast deployment times as with a piercing shriek, Dareen realized Faeril was in trouble. She immediately perked up, looking concerned. For some reason, this did not spur the group to act, and instead Xandar and Gennar continued their argument, once again coming to blows. She scoffed underneath her breath. If her commander knew where she was, he would be greatly disappointed in her choice of allies. As if it was possible he could be even more disappointed...

Mikhail could understand very well Gennar's rage as he growled towards Xandar. Even more so than Mikhail himself, who wanted Faeril alive merely due to his own reasons, Gennar had a more personal connection to the Black Widow. When the argument started becoming more physical, with Xandar grabbing Gennar's shirt, Mikhail silently began conjuring his wires. Weightlessly floating in the wind, close to his hand, those who were paying attention to his face instead of Xandar and Gennar would immediately realize by the look on his face that something was very, very wrong. Cold and emotionless, there wasn't even a spec of anger on his expression, instead just a penetrating, predatory glare almost as if he was an animal staring at it's prey, waiting for the moment to strike.

The situation was escalating quickly as it became evident by the insults and the clear tension in the air, culminating with Xandar throwing a punch at Gennar. When things were about to become a bloodbath, not only due to Xandar and Gennar, but Mikhail himself, a scream echoed through the mountains, a scream they knew all too well. Immediately knowing that Faeril was indeed in danger, the Eyrien brothers left with haste, followed by Xandar, still blind in his own arrogance and refusing to realize that he was the one to blame by that.

Knowing very well that they would reach Faeril much faster than himself due to them having wings, Mikhail simply stood still, his wires disappearing as he continued in silence.

"He is a threat, a liability to everyone nearby him. He can't be trusted." Mikhail said in a somber tone. Dareen and Fatima would quickly realize what he meant by those words. Xandar was better off dead.

"There is no use for us to run to where they are. We would take too long to reach Faeril and we don't know exactly her position. Unfortunately, the only thing we can do is sit, wait and prepare..." Mikhail said, with a rather grim tone as he said the last word.

"You are in danger staying with him, Fatima." Mikhail said, with a serious voice. Despite his frightening expression, it was clear that, for reasons unknown even to himself, he was worried about Fatima's safety as long as she had Xandar by her side. He didn't know exactly why, but he had a feeling inside him that told him that somehow, that adorable, petite woman with a sweet smile was an important person, someone that needed to be protected.

Fatima’s smiles soon fell to the wayside as the arguments grew more and more heated. She would attempt every so often to interject, calm things down, but her inexperience showed. She was helpless to stop the punches that flew. And to stop the scream that echoed from the stairs below. Fatima turned quickly and attempted to run toward the sound, unfortunately the others were much faster. Xandar went so far as to wrap her in a little shield and tell her to stay put.

While she was absolutely loathe to do so, Fatima listened this time. She huffed and turned back toward the others as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Mikhail’s comment fell upon her ears and she turned her pale gold eyes upon him. Something about him sang to her and she recognized the call she had been feeling so often of late. Her lips twisted into a wry smile and she shook her head. “Then we match,” she said quietly with a rare expression which showed the pains of her years. This soon faded and she smiled at the pair. “Maybe we could still help though. I mean to say - what if there are wounded?” If she could convince them to go then she would get leniency from Xandar. He didn’t want her to stay all by her lonesome did he?

Dareen spoke up, glancing over at the optimistic woman. She looked aristocratic. Rich. Inexperienced and naive. Fatima actually had several centuries of age over Dareen, but she didn’t look it.

"I’m sorry...who are you again?" Dareen asked derisively. Who was this prissy woman who had gotten dragged into all this?

"If you are looking for the wounded, I’m sure meat pie over there could use your help." She gestured crudely to the broken corpses of the men that had tried to break into the house.

“Fatima Damiana,” she responded in a chripy voice, ignoring the woman’s clipped and sarcastic intonations. She made an exaggerated bow before looking over to the bodies of the dead. “Unfortunately, these poor souls are a bit too far past where I could help,” she said quietly. She flipped a wayward arm with her foot. Dareen frowned at the morbid display.

Mikhail could only look confused to Fatima as he heard her words. For a second, her bright, sweet smile disappeared, giving place to a pained expression which seemed to have passed through many difficult moments.

"No matter how much one tries to hide their own nature, one's eyes, their voice... One cannot change their essence. I knew that Dareen was innocent just looking at her and hearing her, but Xandar... I don't like his eyes or his attitude..." Mikhail continued.

"Your eyes, though... I see no malice, only kindness... Unlike mine... Your place isn't with Xandar... or even me." Mikhail said, looking to Fatima.

As he looked at her eyes, it was almost as if he became lost on them for a second. The moment she smiled again, he couldn't help but think that he... had already seen a smile like that one...

The moment he thought that, the fragmented memories Faeril had started to treat lashed out on his mind again. Like daggers, feelings unknown to him cut his mind. Images from a woman, a smile, just as tender and kind as Fatima's. Forcing himself to break eye contact with faeril, he looked away, covering half of his face with his hand as he shook his head. Breathing heavily, he stood in complete silence until the painful, fragmented memories were gone again.

"I-... I'm sorry. It was nothing." Mikhail said after a moment. Fatima frowned, watching him with empathy. Her heart cried for him. Instinct made her want to wrap him up in her arms but she didn’t know him. He didn’t know her.

"It will be dangerous..." Mikhail started after Fatima suggested them to go after them too. While it was discreet and delicate, that phrase was obviously referring to Fatima herself.

"Me and Dareen certainly might be able to help, but there are two problems. Not only we will take a while to arrive and it might be too late, but we can't leave you alone. You might not be able to defend yourself if something happens." Mikhail completed, looking to both Fatima and Dareen, wanting to know what they thought of the situation.

Dareen returned the glance, raising an eyebrow at him. She wasn’t so sure about his whole eye-reading spiel, and she was even less sure about this next decision that was apparently being presented to them. There was no chain of command which was something the mercenary was used too, and relied upon. From the sound of it, this Fatima was a Healer. Casting a wayward glance to the dismembered arm the visitor had kicked, Dareen spoke up once again.

”Ever kill anyone before, Fatima? You good at it?” She asked callously, scanning Fatima up and down for weapons and finding none. The information was relevant. Probably more so than looking into her eyes and finding her soul, or whatever the elf was on about.

At this question Fatima’s gaze darkened. It was a mere flash, but the pain of it was evident. “Yes.” she responded finally. “I have.” The question of good at it though, she wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She shook her head. “Even if we are late, it would show we tried, no?” Her stance opened up as she gestured toward the path. “These are our people, people we care about. One of mine is down there and it would break my heart to not have done everything within my power to help him.”

The headache was already getting better, but Mikhail still was confused as in why they reappeared with such intensity. He knew very well that the treatment was far from complete, but still, it was strange. Something in Fatima's eyes made his mind unconsciously recall things that he didn't want to.

As Dareen asked if Fatima had already killed someone though, Mikhail raised his eyebrows, curious as he looked at the woman. Despite her saying that she had already killed people, Mikhail simply looked back at Dareen with his eyebrow raised. Despite him having said no words to Dareen, the message he wanted to sent her was clear, if they went there with Fatima, they would have to protect her and do their best to keep her out of danger.

"Still, it would be best if you didn't put yourself in any dangerous situation." Mikhail said, turning back to Fatima.

Although Mikhail could understand Fatima's words when she said they should still try to go even if they were late, when she mentioned that those were 'their' people, Mikhail's expression became visibly colder, especially when she so obviously mentioned Xandar.

"I wouldn't blindly trust Xandar if I were you. He will put you in danger without even realizing." Mikhail said, once more warning Fatima about Xandar.

"Dareen," Mikhail said, looking towards her.

"What do you think about all this? Should we go with the others or try to prepare for what might come later?" Mikhail asked.

She glanced towards Mikhail with an odd smirk on her face. Shrugging, Dareen slapped her knees, pushing herself to her feet. ”Fuck it! Let’s go. What’s the worst that could happen?” Dareen said, her tone some paradoxical place between sarcasm and sincerity. Fatima intrigued her, her persistence winning her over. No ordinary civilian would be so insistent on heading directly into possible danger. With that, she began walking down the stairs at a brisk pace, raising her eyebrows expectantly at Fatima as she went past. This place, Dareen thought, was going to start smelling terrible soon, anyway.

The trio began on their journey down the hill, away from the Eyrie and into town.

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

As Jandar paused at the sight of the broken body of Jassen, Haelendar took the opening. Either uncaring or unaware it was a trap. It was Jean's bad luck that the keen warblade sliced into his side. Not a deep wound by any means, but a decent gash. Jean's returning counter, however, was far more effective as it cleaved Haelendar's shoulder to the bone forcing the man to withdraw with a string of curses. "Dammit, Kellvar grab the bitch!" He snapped to the Blood Opal Warlord Prince soared up after regaining his wings when Faeril flung him from the cliff. If they couldn't get everyone, they at least would deliver a Black Widow to Queen Melian. That within itself would be worthy victory, he hoped. Now with the Opal Prince advancing on Jean, forcing the Red jeweled Warlord's attention to him and not the fleeing Widow as he swung for the man.

Faeril herself was fleeing as quickly as she could and cursing whichever ancestor of hers thought to build the stair so uneven and steep. As much as she wanted to fix them herself it would take more power, marks (the currency of the Blood) and time than they had. Not to mention such thoughts were not going to be of use now! Hearing the beating of leathery wings, the healer tried to hurry and gave a breathless cry of terror as one of the less tended steps crumbled. Pitching her to the side. Scrambling for a grip on the wall to keep from being tossed into the air and forced to fly with a damaged wing, Faeril drew on the power stored within her jewel to blast the minion of Melian as Kellvar raced up to seize her arm. But he only got within a hairwidth of touching her before two twin figures slammed into the 'boy' sending him spinning down in a tangle with Bellinar and Denvar. Turning Faeril staggered up the steps as she tried to heal her own wing with depleting stores of psychic power.

Jean would see two other Eyriens clash with the Blood Opal Warlord Prince in a mess of blades, wings and some rather foul curses in their native tongue. A third paused looking between Faeril or Jean and swooped down to swipe at Haelendar as the Sapphire took to the air in an attempt to snatch Faeril himself. Despite wearing the weaker Jewel, Gen was more than Haelendar's match in weapon work and fierce temper. Shouting over the rising wind that promised another storm, Gennar called to Jean. "You one of Faeril's or theirs?" The Warlord demanded. "And Haelendar you bastard! You are not touching Ashke!"

"Still defending that bitch and bending over for warriors! A wonder you don't wear a dress as well, Gennar!" Raged Haelendar as he tried his damnest to break the defense of the other Eyrien.

"At least she's an honest bitch and I'd rather bend over for warriors than take it from a Queen!"

Faeril ignored the fighting as her boyos gave her a chance to hurry up the stairs. Drawing on her jewels still, she was staggering as she pressed against the mountainside. The winds growing stronger and threatening to rip her from the wall. They wouldn't be bad if she could shield, but to do that... She didn't have the energy, and that fact alone frightened the Black Widow. Because she had a feeling despite being her patient Mikhail would give as good as her 'brothers' when she was feeling well enough to be explained to why what she did was utterly stupid. Men.

Front Garden, Ahkevron Residence, Aven, Askavi Terreille
@13org @Zoey White @eclecticwitch
As the three descend they would see the sky darken slightly with another storm brewing most likely a heavy, but brief squall but with horrid timing. A few of the men of the battlefield were roused by the slight drops of water and gained their feet. Their faces aghast and pale as they saw their kin and brothers of the Court scattered about them. The two who rose had been knocked into Xandar's shield and thankfully been spared the bloodshed. Now they spread their wings and took off into the sky. From below you hear the sounds of a fight and see distant figures though it's hard to tell who is who.

If Fatima had been a dog her human reaction would have been akin to the dog reaction of someone asking it if it wanted to go for a walk. Sher perked up, practically ready to dance as her face glowed. She turned her bright features upon Mikhail, waiting for his okay too.

Mikhail could not help but to let out a discreet smile watching Fatima's reaction as Dareen agreed to go. Looking at her bright expression, looking at him, Mikhail knew it would be incredibly hard to deny almost anything she asked with those puppy eyes.

"Just be sure to always remain behind me or Dareen. It will be dangerous." Mikhail said, finally giving his ok.

Once this okay was received she moved along after Dareen, quiet but filled to the brim with her excitement. Fatima wanted to help. She hated being stuck at the sidelines. She tried to keep a serious expression on her face to match the woman’s but the smirk of absolute delight shone through.

Unsurprisingly, Fatima was almost hopping as she walked to where Dareen was. It was really amusing how she could be so cheerful despite the tense situation they found themselves in. Mikhail felt it was surprisingly refreshing to have her beside them though.

Dareen shook her head to herself, not having totally made up her mind one way or the other. She seemed affable enough, but to be under Xandar’s protection like that meant she was different, and in only a couple of ways that Dareen could think of off the top of her head. Most of them weren't good. She had nothing against Queens, but most of the ones she had met weren't the nicest people. Usually, they were among the cruelest.

Moving together with Dareen and Fatima, when Mikhail got to the stairs, he heard the beating of wings. Instinctively looking upwards, ready to fight, he realized that those weren't reinforcements... Instead those were the warriors that were somehow left alive by Xandar.

Fatima heard the rustling before she saw them. Wings beating furiously to bring them into the sky above the tops of the trees. And tell others of what had happened here. She had enough sense to feel some amount of forboarding worm its way through her stomach. Fatima would deal with that when the time came. For now there was another matter to attend to that must be taken care of. One thing at a time.

"Damn it!" Mikhail muttered a cursed as he saw them flying away.

He saw what Xandar was capable of. Seeing that some of the warriors he fought again were alive and flying away could mean just one thing. He left them alive on purpose. Carelessness? No... Arrogance. Why would he leave them alive? Leaving no survivors or witnesses to open their mouths was always the best, most efficient course of action. Someone who was used to taking lives like Xandar did should know that...

"I was careless... I didn't realize they were still alive... That Xandar left them alive..." Mikhail said, saying Xandar's name almost as a curse. His words were quite an obvious sign of what he would have done if he saw them before going with Dareen and Fatima.

Dareen shrugged as she picked up the pace down the hill, gesturing Fatima to follow. ”Yeah, yeah, Xandar is the worst. Come on, we’re almost there," She said, focusing on the task at hand. She probably should have paid more attention, she thought, but the past was past and the struggle was still ongoing at the bottom of the hill. Squinting against the drops flecking against her face, Dareen’s boots smacked against the stone that was beginning to shine.

Fatima paid no mind to the opening of the sky. Her thoughts were securely on those she hoped to help… or to skewer… down below. Following behind Dareen’s beckoning hand she glanced back at Mikhail. He had seemed upset with letting those few go. But there was nothing to do about it now. It was a plan for the future. So best to look there. Once they got done with the here and now of course.

There was nothing more Mikhail could do with the ones who escaped. He was certain that it would cause them problems in the future, but he was forced to ignore them now.

"We should hurry... We don't know how the situation is regarding Faeril..." Mikhail said as he went after Dareen and Fatima, soon catching up to them. All of three of them broke out into a run as the sounds of steel on steel echoed throughout the empty air.

The Sapphire Warlord Prince took the opening Jandar had presented him with. The Kaeleeran Warlord grunted at the relatively shallow slice into his side but counter attacked without hesitation, cleaving the Eyrien’s shoulder to the bone. Jandar was frustrated it hadn’t been a killing blow, but at least he’d forced his opponent to retreat. The Opal Prince soon took the previous Eyrien’s spot, advancing on Jandar and swinging at him. Jean evaded, and was forced to focus his attention on the Opal Prince.

Just as they began their fight, reinforcement arrived. Three Eyrien warriors arrived to protect Faeril, and Jandar silently thanked Mother Darkness for the timely intervention. “I’m with Faeril,” he shouted in an answer, keeping his eyes on the Opal Prince, circling him, attacking, defending, and evading mostly in response to whatever the other male did for now. “And have one of your men take a look at her! One of these bastards cut into her wing!” he added, providing his allies with information that wouldn’t be beneficial to the enemy – because the enemies caused the Black Widow’s injury in the first place.

Then, he drew on his Red jewel, added another protective layer of around his shield as well as did the same as when he’d broken Sapphire’s barrier in the first place – he wrapped his sabre with a cutting craft-based coat, which sparked red, and added a bit of length to the blade that might be difficult to grasp visually for his opponent. Moving onto the Opal Prince aggressively, Jandar attacked, moving into the Eyrien’s space. He was aiming to catch the opponent’s warblade either on his shield or the sabre, at which point he’d be free to swing with whatever tool remained free at the man’s head. If he succeeded, he could at very least knock the Opal Prince out.

Location: Outside Faeril's Eyrie, cliff staircase

Xandar was in quite the furious mood as he sailed down the edge of the cliff, dropping like a ton of bricks as he only had a few moments to collect himself from his blind rage. He wanted nothing more than to let out his frustration upon anybody who got in his way and then left once he had done so, but the debts and obligations he had chained him to this not so great situation. The annoying and useless tag alongs found it amusing to blame all their problems on the Ebon-Grey, expecting him to be everywhere at once and do everything, to take care of everybody's job for them. Worthless creatures, he didn't understand why they even kept them around, all they were good for was taking up the oxygen in the surrounding area. Imagine if he hadn't been there to save all their asses, what kind of devastation would have occurred. But no, not even a thank you was said to him. Caste meant nothing to the peasants.

While caught up in his brooding he apparently was the last one to get down to where the fighting was taking place, and he cursed silently to himself for not paying attention more. It took him a few brief seconds to scan the surrounding area, seeing all the individual fights that broke out. He wasn't terribly concerned with them, if any of them died it wasn't his problem, he learned that lesson the hard way. But, the one who he couldn't afford dead was Faeril, who seemed to be crawling her way up the stairs towards the Eyrie. Upon further inspection he realized she must of hurt her wings, or she would most likely be flying up. Well, it was better late than never to give her a lift up the mountain.

All the supplies vanished from on top of Xandar as he opened up his wings, turning his shoulders as he used the momentum of his fall to slingshot himself right besides the stairs, lining up with where he noticed the broken steps were near Faeril. Making sure his flight plan would put him below the hole, he waved his hand as he used his psychic prowess to nudge Faeril down and through the hole. Xandar caught her fall quite easily in his arms despite the high speed, wrapping his arms around her tightly as an Ebon-Grey shield covered the both of them. Still going quite fast from slingshotting around the stairs, he immediately turned his body upwards, and with a large beat of his wings they were both soaring right back up the side of the cliff, using the stairwell as cover. It was uncharacteristic of Xandar to leave a fight, but he mused the safest option was to make sure Faeril was safe first, bring her to Fatima, and make sure the two of them didn't get themselves into any more trouble.

Xandar chuckled softly, looking down at the very confused face of Faeril as he held her in his arms. "You know, I really can't leave you alone for five minutes without you getting into trouble, can I? Lucky for you, I was in the neighborhood and decided to swing by. Let's get you patched up, Widow."

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

Faeril gave a snarl as she moved to rip out the throat of the bastard who had snatched her from the stairway with their blasted Craft. It was fortunate Xandar had thought to put a shield up else the punch that rebounded off the Ebon-Grey and left the Black Widow cradling a sore had would have bruised his jaw. Realizing exactly who it was, the Healer-Black Widow groaned in disgust as he chuckled and teased her. Oh, teasing was fine and wonderful even. However, it was best done at a appropirate time and this was certainly no such thing!

"You can damn well leave me alone! We were handling it!" Faeril snipped, despite knowing that they had been in trouble. Squirming and paling as she jostled her injured wing, the woman peered down watching the fighting. "I can handle myself well enough, but Gen- Bellinar and Denvar-" She glared at her 'rescuer'. "I can climb the damn stairs! Just- We need to help them!" Faeril argued, despite that her own jewels were obviously desperately low on power and the red jewel that shone dimly on her chest was close to breaking. Something that would have rendered her useless to the group in terms of power and ability.

Path up to Ashkevron Residence, Askavi
Interacting with @SilverPaw
The two Tiger-eyed Warlord Princes were far below trading passes with their weapons against Kellvar. The blood of the three raining down the earth below as they ripped with their physical weapons and blasted each other with their Craft. Bellinar had a slightly upperhand against the Blood Opal Warlord Prince, despite the difference in their jewels. His brother, however, was far more successful with his more powerful blows slowly draining away the power of the Blood Opal from Kellvar's shields. Gen was not faring as well, being forced up and away from his potential allies the Warlord bared a snarl at Haelendar. "Getting tired pet?" Mocked Gen as he gasped for breath. Bleeding from half a dozen cuts. His opponent fairing far better. Haelendar had merely his shoulder bleeding, the Sapphire shield deflecting Gen's blows while his own forced Faeril's closest ally back towards the eyrie

"I swear, I'll cut out your tongue!" Howled Haelendar as he tried to shoot by the Green jeweled Warlord as he spied Xandar snatch up the Black Widow. Gen took the opportunity and slammed his fist into Haelendar's head. Stunning the man as the two began to grapple as they fell towards the earth far below. As much as he was worried about his friend, Faeril was in the hands of others who could help her. His job was to deal with these bastards.

The Opal Prince glared at Jandar as he was forced back down the stairs. "You'll suffer for this." Sword the second of command to the Mastar of the Guard. "I've never forgotten a face, and I'll not forget a Dhemlan rat's." He snarled in warning before springing free of the rocky steps to fly off. Attempting to escape the battle, most likely to summon help.

Front Garden, Ashkevron Residence, Aven, Askavi Terreille
@13org @Zoey White @eclecticwitch
As the three descend towards the switchback stairs, they could see the figures of people below dueling back in forth. Three were far below and spinning out into open air then back into the mountainside. The second group of two was falling towards the earth at dizzying speed. Gennar using his superior size to Haelendar to keep the slightly smaller man's wings closed as they pummeled each other. The closest fighting pair was Jandar and the Opal who was attempting to fly off. If it were not for all this terror and the flecks of blood that were streaking the mountain and falling down towards the earth, the scene would have been beautiful. Peaceful even.

Fatima, however, would be close enough as they began descending to see a sprawl and broken form laying on the stairs. A reddish pool spiling about the body of Jassen. The distant details of Jean being clear enough to tell that the Dhemland still lived and leaving only one who could be the figure. The beating of leathery wings were fast approaching from below, looking would reveal it to be the giant Xandar who was holding a glaring and arguing Faeril. Mikhail would notice the witch's jewels were dangerously low. A serious concern, which combined with her exhaustion earlier that morning would reveal the witch had been tossing her power about without care for her limits. Healers were infamous for it. The reason they were, by Protocol's design, required to have a male 'helper' lest they spend themselves dry and possibly to death.

Dareen made her way forward a few steps, still staying in range with Fatima. "Go on, Mikhail. I'll keep watch over Fatima." She gestured with her head toward the fight, hooking her buckler on her belt. Reaching over her shoulder she gripped her bow between her hands. Making her way quickly down the steps, the Pruulish archer got a quick lay of the situation. Xandar and Faeril were safe for now and rushing up the stairs. All three of the brothers were engaged in mid air fights. There was one 2v1 which seemed to be going well, but Gen seemed to be struggling against a stranger. Dareen prepared to line up a shot to help Gennar, but the two suddenly began plummeting towards the Earth. Dareen's eyes widened, but there was nothing she could do now. They were all tangled up, and not only was the shot hard to hit in the first place, but it would be random chance that she didn't hit Gennar.

Instead, her eyes went to two strangers dueling just a few switchbacks down. One of them was an Eyrien, the other wasn't. The Eyrien looked pompous from here, and he began flying away. Away, away, far from the group, while the wingless man prepared to shoot after him. Yeah, this Eyrien was one of the assholes. Might as well get some target practice in. Dareen took an arrow from her quiver that was always stored against her back and notched it. As the Eyrien attempted to get away, Dareen squinted and closed her left eye, lining up the shot. Her arm strained against the tightness of the bow string. Tension, tension, tension...release! The arrow flung at high velocity. She couldn't tell exactly where it made impact, but it did. The thwack of barb burying into flesh, the flinching of the target, and the vanishing of the arrow were all telltale signs. A good hit.

But Dareen's primary focus was else where. Gen and Haelander (though Dareen did not know Haelander's name) were still plummeting towards the dirt below. Right now, they were too close together to fire safely. Instead, the Pruulish woman took an anticpating step foward and steadied her stance. Preparing a secondary arrow, she started lining up a prediction shot, without pulling back the string yet.

When Gennar and Haelander were disengaged or no longer in a wrestling match to the ground, Dareen would take her shot. Or if Haelander and Gendar hit the ground and starting fighting with blades again, Dareen would fire an arrow at Haelander. She was just waiting for the right opportunity. Hitting Gennar with an arrow would only further his defeat, so it wasn't worth the risk. Dareen had to wait for Haelander to no longer be wrestling or grabbing Gennar, out of arm's reach.

Dareen was entirely and singularly focused on her archery.

---

It wasn't long after they began going down the stairs until they were surprised by the scene unfolding in front of them. The first thing that caught Mikhail's attention was Faeril, who was being carried by Xandar. Despite her anger, it was noticeable that she was weak and exhausted. She used her jewels a lot in a short span of time and they were dangerously low. It only took a few seconds for Mikhail to scan and evaluate the situation. Xandar would, hopefully, take Faeril to a safe spot so he wouldn't have to worry about her that much. That left Gennar, who is spiraling towards the ground in a dangerous dive while fighting with an enemy, Bellinar and Denvar who were both fighting against a single opponent and faring much better than Gennar in that and finally, an unknown face to Mikhail. Even though he knew that this unknown face was, at least for now, an ally, as it was fighting against an enemy, he would be sure to keep an eye on him later.

"Understood." Mikhail replied to Dareen as she said for him to go ahead. His answer was short and efficient, just like his movements, running away the very second he heard Dareen. There was no waste either in breath or in movement. According to how things were going, the one that would probably need help was Gennar, judging by his wounds. Running down the stairs with an impressive speed, Mikhail looked towards the Eyrien who was fighting against the unknown ally just in time to see Dareen's arrow hitting him as he tried to fly away.

"Xandar, take Faeril to safety. Do not let her use her jewels." Mikhail said to Xandar as he ran past him. His tone of voice made it clear that it was urgent and sounded more like an order than a request.

Due to how close Gennar was from his opponent, Mikhail couldn't use his throwing knives as he could hit Gennar instead of his opponent, due to how fast they were spinning. As such, the only thing Mikhail could do was wait until either they were close enough from him or to the ground so he could do something. Unsheathing one of the curved daggers he carried with him and grabbing a few of the thin, needle like throwing knives with the other hand, he kept a close look on Gennar and his opponent, waiting for a moment where he could throw his knives without hitting Gennar or if they got close enough to the ground so Mikhail could do something.

---

---

She was not well versed in fighting. She rarely saw it and so she had trouble understanding who was where was fighting what. The thing which caught her eye in the chaos was a single stillness. Her heart stopped for a moment. Was that... Jassen? Bile rose in her throat but she kept it down. She would not show weakness. Not here and not now.

At Dareen's statement that she would watch her, Fatima tensed. She expected something Xandar or Jassen like. Keep her still. Keep her away. Keep her safe. The restless woman was prepared to argue or sneak. It soon became apparent that she would need to do neither as the woman was wholly concentrated on her work. Fatima took a few, slow steps away before rushing along the wall as Dareen made no move to stop her. Made no sound that she had noticed at all.

She kept her hand against the wall, ignoring the way the stone scraped her palm. Surely she would bleed but she had no desire to fall. The wall helped her keep her balance as she ran. She moved deftly past Xandar, hoping he would not notice. She jumped, skipped stairs, until the expansion of the shield around her. Not predicting that there would be an impenetrable forcefield in front of her, she slammed full force into the domed sized. There was a wicked crunch and Fatima knew her nose had broken. She reached a hand up to wipe the blood from her stinging face.

Fatima rounded wild eyes on him and she snarled like a cat in an alley. "How dare you," her voice was ice cold and she thought she detected a hint of frost in the air within the bubble. "How fucking dare you. Let me out. I have to..." No, there was no reasoning with him. Especially since his full attention was on the wildcat in his arms.

She sat in her bubble, face bleeding, while the body of Jassen grew further and further away. Her heart screamed and her body vibrated with energy that wished to be released. She pressed her hand against the side of the barrier, leaning against it in an attempt to make the space between herself and the man she adored shorter. She pummeled her fists against it but to no avail.

Jandar drove the Opal Prince to the staircase, the corners of his lips twitching up in a minor smirk as he sensed opportunity. But of course, the male simply flew off. Jandar cursed under his breath, vanished his sabre and shield, and raced back up the stairs, turned to the flying target, braced his feat, summoned his bow and quiver-full of arrows, positioned his body, and took a shot. He barely hit, not enough to slow down the Eyrien. The only upside was that some unknown archer had taken a shot at the Opal Prince almost simultaneously, and hit them as well – unfortunately, with as much success as Jandar had. Jandar growled, and swiftly readied and released another shot…and his arrow glanced off the Eyrien’s psychic shield. Well. He wasn’t stupid and he’d reacted fairly quickly, but then again, the Warlord supposed getting shot at was very hard to miss. Still…did he shield simply as a precaution or because he didn’t trust his flying skill? Or was it because he didn’t want to split his attention? Regardless, it was pointless for Jandar to attempt to shoot down the Opal Prince again; the Eyrien had flown rather far at this point and was shielded to boot.

With a sigh, Jandar vanished the bow, quiver, and arrows, leaving himself with only the knife that remained sheathed at his back. The rest of the opponents were otherwise occupied, and if need be, he could still summon whichever weapon he needed. He lay his left arm on his side, stemming the bleeding gash just below his ribs. Taking a moment to observe the goings on, the Warlord realized there currently was no enemy he could engage easily, as they were all flying. There were also more unknown allies (except Xandar, who Jandar was glad to see had taken Faeril with him) who had all arrived some time after the three of Faeril’s Eyriens. Jandar squinted in the direction one of the unknown allies had come running from (the male was a Dea Al Mon, if his peripheral gaze hadn’t betrayed him, which was rather curious, but not of immediate import), and saw Fatima accompanied by a woman. Fatima could probably recognize Jassen’s corpse from where she was standing. Oh, Mother Darkness, what do I do in a situation such as this?

Jandar hadn’t liked the drunk. He had been impressed the old male had attempted help rescue Faeril, but with how easily he had gone down, he certainly couldn’t truthfully say he had fought the good fight. He had gone down fighting, though whether that would reassure Fatima or not was questionable. Jandar did not know the Queen well enough to guess how she might react. However, he felt that he needed to be there for her. Bracing himself for the inevitability of having to offer comfort, Jandar made his way to his Lady.

Location: Outside Faeril's Eyrie, cliff staircase

"Oh you sure had it under control dear, that's why you're bleeding, your jewel is drained, and I had to come save you from being killed or kidnapped by those assholes. I don't even know how you're still alive considering how useless your so called body guards are." Xandar chuckled, shaking his head as he saw her attempt to punch him in the jaw and fail miserably.

"The last time I let you out of my sight for a minute you got yourself into deep shit, I'm keeping an eye on you. I already saved their ass once today, let them be useful for a change. You just worry about resting and not breaking your jewel, because you'll be no use to anybody without it. I can repay my debt to you if you're dead or worse."

Xandar has just got to the top of the Eyrie when he turned to see Mikhail start running down the stairs, trying to tell Xandar one thing or another. He didn't really acknowledge or respect the man in any sense, having half a mind to chuck him off the cliff so he would get down faster. "Oh I know what I'm doing, I'm not a daft cunt such as yourself. I would be more than happy to engage you in a battle of wits if I had the time, but you seem unarmed."

Xandar chuckled, quickly looking over to see Fatima sneaking down the stairs, attempting to go into the battlefield as he was quite sure Mikhail and Dareen was supposed to be taking care of her. "Oh look, you both had one job. Trying to give orders and you can't even follow a simple task. Don't worry, just let the man handle this one."

Xandar cast his free hand out, the other still holding Faeril in his arms as he morphed the shield around Fatima into a sphere, seemingly without the knowledge of the Queen as she falls forward in her clumsiness and face plants onto the front of the sphere. He could only shake his head as he levitated the sphere, bringing back the screaming and kicking Queen as he lowered the sphere next to him where he stood at the top of the Eyrie. His face was like a disappointed parent, and he now held Faeril with both hands as he faced the sphere.

"And you! What am I going to do with you? My job is to protect you and you start running towards the fight? And you go and trip and break your nose. Look, this is for your own good. Once people who aren't trying to murder and or kidnap both of you are either dead or gone, you will both be let out. In the mean time, I would love to have you two alive if that's alright with everyone."

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

Faeril's eyes flashed at the insult to her close friends. "Careful Prince. You would rather not make an enemy of me." She whispered quietly with a dangerous undertone. It was all well and fine to spar verbally but to insult the men who were as close as kin to her? That was something she could not and would not tolerate. The brother's mother had suffered greatly in the spiral of terror the Twisted Queens had instilled into the Blood and even with all her skill her late aunt could not lead the woman from the Twisted Kingdom that was madness. Now the Eyrien witch lived with a caring herbalist in Aven while her sons worked to protect the Healer-Black Widow. Turning her gaze to the howling and grief-stricken Queen, Faeril gave up struggling and pulled her wings close to her body. It was a terrible thing for the girl to lose someone she was close to, but the Hayllian man would never have been allowed to join them. He had been too much of a risk that could have betrayed all the Black Widow had worked for. The reason she had drained her Jewels.

As they reached the leveled ledge in the mountain that held her eyrie, the woman sighed and shook her head at the foolish little Queen. While she could very well sympathize that would not help the issue at the current point in time. They both needed Healing and Faeril was incapable of doing it. Wincing Faeril gripped Xandar's shirt, her blue eyes hard. "I have my reasons for my... lack of stored power. Do not dismiss the fact a Queen and several capable, despite what you may think, men turned up at the same time." The Black Widow hissed softly under Fatima's howls of outrage. "I will rest you snarling, foolish cockrel, but help my brothers. Their lack of power kept me safe. Do not dismiss the rank of Jewel as the only strength a person has. Now, go let their blood rain down." Faeril chided as she turned away, pointedly ignoring him as she tore off a sleeve of her gown. The quite audible grouse of 'idiot cockrels with swords' a stinging barb sent at the Warlord Prince. Wrapping the cloth about the gash in her finger the woman turned her attention to Fatima as the blood flow slowed. "Lady, if you continue to scream you will only draw the entire village up here and I would rather they not know I am housing a Queen. Even that possible reward might prove too tempting, for we too have suffered hard times under Queen Melian and Jurrian- the Territory Queen." Faeril snapped gripping the Queen's arm as she spun the younger woman about to look at her. "Rather worry about what you can do." Hypocritical words but Faeril was quite the proud hypocrite. It was one of her more vibrant qualities.

On the Stairs Ashkevron Residence, Aven, Askavi Terreille
@Zoey White (At the top of the stairs, on level with the Eyrie) @SilverPaw (Two level above Jassen's body and two levels below Dareen) @13org (Same level as Jandar)

The Eyriens were doing the main amount of fighting, save for the Opal Prince who was flying hard away from the eyrie. Wounded though he was the Eyrien had the advantage of wings and with the three brothers caught up in their own fights he was gaining distance from the battle. As the second-in-command to Lady Melian's Master of the Guard, he wanted his mentor's position for himself and getting killed would not get him there faster. But bringing back news of the Reaper and the Black Widow might. If he had brought back the Black Widow it would have definitely have helped.

The Green and Sapphire Eyriens raced towards the earth. Haelendar panicking as he watched the ground get close as they fell faster and faster. Each time he tried to use Craft, Gen sent a psychic blast at the man forcing him to shield or get slammed into the mountain. A mistake on Haelendar's part. If he slammed into the mountain it would have saved him from gaining such speed, if at the cost of a few cuts and bruises. Not that such things were much of a worry. The Eyrien's skin was already taking a ghastly grey twinge from Faeril's poison and his reaction time was lessening. Gen had spent enough time around the Red Jeweled Black Widow to know her work when he saw it. Finally they were close enough and Gen back winged hard away from the cliff as he veered along the ground and back up into the sky. Dareen's arrow would find it's mark well enough, digging into Haelendar's thigh making him wince as he tried to veer away from the ground. Mikhail would hear Haelendar's pleading cries as the men fell but now they fell silent after a sickening crunching crash. The broken form of Haelendar far below at the base of the stairs. His wings at an awkward angle and blood smearing the ground about him. The Green Jeweled Warlord circled back lazily as he checked on his foe and was satisfied with his death.

Kellvar was not faring well as the two Warlord Prince brothers drove him about in a whirling dance of wings and blades. Bellinar's blade cutting deeply as he passed, but gained a nasty slashe across his hip in retaliation. Cursing the newest come brother winged up the cliff. Denvar's opponent whirled to face him, the blade slamming into the youngest brother's shield ineffively as Denvar laughed in mocking rage. Then grunted in pain as he was slammed into the cliff, his wings bashing against the stone hard enough to bruise muscle. Landing a few feet below on the stairs, Denvar blasted his opponent with the power of his jewel. Kellvar shrieking a insult as he fell onto the stairs just above Jandar.

Dareen winced when her target shattered against the rocks below. Yeah. He was dead. Xandar had Faeril, which was good. It looked like the fleeing Eyrien was going to get away, the new ally didn't manage to stop him and Dareen couldn't kill him with her bow. Unfortunate, but it was pretty hard to stop one's ambushers from escaping. That's one of the advantages of ambushing: getting to choose the environment. The Eyirens would never attack them while they were in a cave.

Denvar blasted an enemy named Kellvar. He looked to be vulnerable, and he would be in the way of our new ally, Jandar. Might as well take a shot. Nocking another arrow, Dareen closed one of her eyes and lined up the shot. Enhancing the arrow with a bit of craft, she let the thing fly free. Her aim was true, but her craft wasn't powerful to kill him. The arrow head sticks into Kellvar's shield, an inch away from flesh.

"Damn." Dareen cursed. Pulling another arrow from her quiver, Dareen turned her head a little so Fatima could hear her.

"Hey, Fatima, prepare to get moving soon. We're heading-" She paused, not catching the girl out of the corner of her eye. She turned fully, finally noticing Fatima's absence.

"Fatima?" For a moment, her heart fluttered in her chest. Had she been taken while she wasn't looking? Damn it, Dareen! Whirling around, she noticed Fatima down the hill. She had ran into the battle while Dareen wasn't looking. The Pruulish witch shook her head and smirked. Okay, she thought. Fair enough. The smirk faded when Dareen realized Fatima's attention was on a very bloody man. Hoping to heal him? Or perhaps she knew him. Suddenly, Xandar formed the form fitting shield around Fatima into a sphere. It stopped her dead in her tracks, of course, as Xandar basically made her run full force into a wall. Head smacking into the new sphere, a hit like could split her forehead or worse, and Dareen cringed. Ouch. Now she was being lifted away, obviously distressed.

But hey, as long as Xandar kept her safe from that one guy flat on his ass currently getting the shit beat out of him. Offended on Fatima's behalf, Dareen called out to Xandar.

"Hey, Xandar, you're going a little easy on her, aren't you? Maybe you should punch her fucking teeth out too, just to make sure she's extra safe?" She shouted mockingly, shrugging her shoulders. After that, she glanced away and nocked her third arrow, preparing to fire upon Kellvar once again to assist Jandar in his climb.

Location: Outside Faeril's Eyrie, cliff's edge

Xandar could only shake his head as he caught his breath, stretching his arms and shoulders as he talked with Faeril. "If you would take me as an enemy when I have saved your life not once, but twice, than so be it. We have a mutual need for one another Widow, but that does not extend out to your comrades. I will do my best to be civil and nothing more, but I would not idly stand by if they provoke me."

The Warlord Prince turned to the Queen, and while he did feel a tinge of guilt for pulling her away from her dead comrade and injuring her slightly, it would be far better than having her exposed and open on the battlefield. The last time he left a healer to her own devices she was nearly mutilated, and he would not let this happen to her. Once the dust settled he would be a little more lenient and less protective, but he deemed his own worth based on how well he could protect others. "I'm sorry for your loss, Queen Fatima, but your safety is of greater importance in this very moment. I hope you will understand, but the battlefield is not a place you should be. You'll have much greater purpose and taking care of Faeril."

"I will be the judge of their strength, but I have never needed more than my own. But, I at least know my boundaries when it comes to my power. I know you mean well but you're more worth to us when you're healthy. I will extinguish the souls of those who dare challenged me and we can continue this conversation after." Xandar took a few steps towards the edge of the cliff, looking up at the fleeing Eyrien shot by arrows before turning his head to Dareen. "I would gladly take your advice and do the same kindness to you, but a person who can't perform simple tasks is simply beneath me. But, if you choose to disrespect me again, I'll gladly end your life. I'm not as merciful as our host."

And with that Xandar built up power in his Jewel before launching off the cliff's edge, exploding upwards with the force of a psychic blast as he spread his wings and very quickly approached the Blood Opal. So quickly, in fact, that he caught the fleeing Eyrien in surprise and he came soaring above him. The Ebon-Grey brought his fists together and slammed them into the center of his back, causing the shield to shatter with a sickening crack, the force sending the Blood Opal downward. Using that momentum, Xandar grabbed both of the Eyriens wings firmly in his hands, pulling with all his might as he tore off both wings like a band-aid. The man shrieked in pain, blood spewing as Xandar delivered a final kick with both his legs into the man's back, sending him hurtling towards the ground without wings. The Warlord Prince slowly made his way back to the Eyrie, not bothering to look down as he was sure his opponent would make a nice blood stain several hundred feet below. He looked at his trophy in his hands, a pair of blood stained wings before he vanished them.

"What the darkness gives you, The Reaper will take it away just as quickly."

---

---

There was no doubt in anyone's mind who saw the Queen that she was absolutely livid. Her body trembled with rage and unspent energy as she turned and watched the pair of Eyriens grow closer. Xandar was holding Faeril and the woman bawled like a cat. Fatima did not listen to her words, her mind was elsewhere. Turned inward as she traipsed along the edges of her power, pulling strings and readying to fight her way to freedom. The bubble finally stopped moving and Fatima stood, blood dripping down her face and staining her tunic. She watched the pair quibble with each other and Fatima found it quite childish after what she had just seen below. The death of her man. Someone was dead and here they were just...

Her lips thinned into a small line when Xandar spoke his condolences. Her eyes narrowed but still, she said not a word. Fatima wore nothing but cold contempt in her features for the man. She just watched him. Nothing to be done now. His apology, while perhaps true, rung as an extra slap to her face. If he were to feel sorry for the man's death, he would have let her go to him.

No.

This and that were not the same, she had to remind herself. He acted in her best interest, it just didn't happen to coincide with her intentions.

Faeril's hand upon her arm, telling her to hush had Fatima turning and finally making a noise - something of which she was repeatedly being accused. Could the woman read her thoughts? They way she howled in her mind? And in her heart? Her teeth were bared and she snarled at the Eyrien woman. "You make the most noise of the two of us," was her bitter remark. She pulled her arm from her grasp and, when having a moment to calm herself, looked the woman over. She was in desperate need of healing. Fatima sighed and ran a blood-encrusted hand through her wild, curling locks. "For a Widow, you seem to read the situation poorly. Sit," she said and gestured to the ground. "I will mend you. It will give me something to do." Her intonations had gone from her harsh, wildthing snarling to a more clipped and brusque healer's commandment. She would brook no declinations of her statement. "Sit," she repeated with a look Faeril would likely recognize in herself when she was about to commence a healing with a rather wiggly patient.

Jandar blinked, stopping mid-step on the staircase at the odd scene before him. Fatima was running in his direction, Xandar swooped down (Faeril still in hands), shielded Fatima and grabbed her, now carrying away both the Queen and the Black Widow. A short moment later, the Blood Opal Warlord Prince crashed into the cliff, apparently injured from the fight with the two ally Eyriens, and landed not far above Jandar. Just as soon, an arrow followed, though it lodged itself into the man’s shield. Jandar glanced up, seeing the faraway woman archer who’d helped him. Summoning his sabre, the Warlord waved at the female above, gesturing he could deal with it.

Jandar approached the fallen Eyrien, wrapped his sabre in a red-tinge layer of power, and swung down. Unfortunately, the man’s shield did not break entirely, but only cracked. Keeping the power from his Red jewel still flowing into his weapon, Jandar set the sabre’s tip into the crack, and pushed, utilizing all his muscles to do so. The Opal Warlord Prince’s shield was finally broken, exposing the Eyrien. A quick slash at the man’s neck, and he was dead. Jandar rolled his shoulders, vanished the sabre, and put his left hand at his wounded side again, feeling the extent of the damage.

With a huff, the Warlord pushed the fallen Eyrien to the side of the staircase, so he didn’t block the whole path. Then, thinking of Fatima’s urgency to get there and presumably get Jassen’s body, Jandar descended down the stairs. The fight was over now, it seemed, all enemies having either been slain or chased away. However, if there was even one survivor…Well, perhaps Faeril would deem to clarify the situation. Several minutes later, the Kaeleeran reached Jassen, bent down, and carefully set his corpse across his shoulders, taking the proper caution not to aggravate his injured side. Finally, he began his ascent, though he was rather slowed down due to the additional weight. Regardless, he eventually reached his previous spot, took a moment of rest, gazing at the recently slain Eyrien curiously, then prepared himself to move the rest of the way up with a bracing inhale.

---

Mikhail heard Xandar barking behind his back as he ran down the stairs, but he didn't had time to reply and even if he had, he was already far from Xandar. Turning his attention to more pressing issues, he saw Gennar dealing with his opponent despite the trouble he was having, leaving the other Eyrien's broken, dead body sprawled on the ground. Quickly turning his eye to the Eyrien who was trying to flee, he saw that despite being hit by multiple attacks, unfortunately, he still managed to flee. The last one remaining was about to be put down due to being in disadvantage. Since the fight was basically won and Mikhail couldn't fly, he instead started making his way back to where the group was.

Even though they had successfully repelled the dogs the queen sent after them this time, Mikhail was sure that it wouldn't end like that. They were still in a risky situation... Not only that, but Xandar's unpredictable and volatile behavior was definitely a liability to their survival. Keeping Faeril, who already had quite a temper, and now Fatima, whom went as far as to let her emotions take care of her after seeing someone she knew being killed and rushing towards it's body without caring for danger, was already a lot of work. They certainly didn't need someone who was unable to take sensible decisions, didn't know how to listen and couldn't be referred as an 'ally'.

Truth be told, Mikhail wasn't used in working with a group and all that was proving to be much harder than what he had expected. They were taking unnecessary risks, putting themselves in dangerous situations that could be avoided thanks to their impulsive actions... There were many problems which could be fatal in dangerous situations... After taking a few minutes to put his own thoughts in order and assess the situation they were in and the queen's possible actions after knowing her little force was taken out, he resumed his way to where the rest of the group was. Despite his silence, his expression could only be described as frighteningly cold and hostile. It was ironic on how he had came to have his mind treated, but he was stressing himself as much as he was before.

As he got closer to the group, he couldn't help but hear Faeril's words, almost hissing at Xandar after he, once again, started barking and insulting everyone and everything. The entire situation was just a nightmare for anyone with common sense. Seeing Fatima on the state she was right now only reaffirmed Mikhail's previous thoughts that she absolutely shouldn't be in a battlefield. Even though she showed the ability to control herself and calm herself down, she only did that after having an emotional outburst and acting impulsively. He couldn't help but wonder how she was still alive having Xandar by her side... Luckily, he had already gone, back to the Eyrie.

Standing in silence a few steps away from the group, Mikhail simply waited until Fatima was calmer, healing Faeril and gave a few steps forward before finally saying what he wanted to say.

"You two need to better assess the situation. Fatima, even though I understand that it was quite a shock for you, having such an outburst and letting your emotions guide your actions is a fatal mistake in the middle of a battle or any dangerous situation. Faeril, you need to know your limits. Stop trying to put yourself in danger without thinking about the risks and consequences of your actions." Mikhail said, looking to both of them with a cold, piercing stare.

"It is not my job to protect neither one of you, but It is within my interest to keep you both alive. At least until our contract is completed." Mikhail said, looking at Faeril when he spoke the last part.

"That said... Xandar is unreliable, unpredictable and volatile. His impulsive actions are a danger to BOTH of you. He is an arrogant idiot which can not be considered an ally." Mikhail warned, in a low, cold tone. It didn't take much to realize where he was going speaking that.

"If any of you still think otherwise... You should really get to him before I do..." Mikhail said in a threatening tone as he gave a few steps away towards the house, where he stood waiting for what the group would do next.

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

Faeril was about to snap a reply to the Eyrien warrior that would be far from polite when he took flight, satisfied with himself no doubt. Feeling the Queen pull her arm from her weakened grasp, Faeril felt herself sway. She had lost a decent amount of blood fighting with Xandar and a sleepless night hardly helped when the jitters after a nerve-racking event set in. Fatima hardly needed to be stern as the Ice Healer sat on the low garden wall that kept her annuals from the more sinister herbs and winced as her wing jolted the cut in the membrane. If there could be one kind thing said of Faeril at the moment it would be that she was far from a wriggly patient. Being a Healer herself she knew better than to fight or argue when you did need a Healing done. Too often she had been the on the receiving end of such foolishness from a patient.

Watching as Mikhail approached with a less than pleasant look, the Black Widow tried to give him a poisonous look that turned more into a weak and watery glare as the Gray Jeweled Prince lectured them. She was hardly an apprentice at her Craft to be scolded so, she thought as her temper bristled slightly. The lack of sleep and her overworked body dulling its edge, as her mind slowly sorted through Mikhail's words and worked them so they made sense. He wasn't entirely wrong on some points but there were others he just wasn't prepared to know about. Giving a weak smiling chuckle, the Black Widow rested her head against the stone pillar that served as a marker for the garden. "Your contract, Prince, to me will be complete with time... Your contract to the Lady?" She called with a crow's harsh voice after the Dea Al Mon Prince. "Do you think it not strange that a Warlord Prince of skill, a Queen with a powerful Jewel, along with two other capable men turned up at my door all at once? I am not so sought after as you might think." Her blue eyes were closed as her voice wavered with exhaustion. "I spent many a night weaving my tangled web and dreaming and drawing power to me. Powerful males to serve. A powerful Queen who could stand free of the taint that threatens this Realm. Be Xandar what he may, this corruption has left scars on him as profound as your own though in a different way. But you both feel the pull, and you both can walk away from it."

There were wing beats as Gen and his brother flew up the cliff face to reach their Black Widow again. Faeril Ashkevron staring at Mikhail as she opened her eyes, hardly seeing in the physical realm as the world took on different shapes and tones and meanings. "An Eyrie with brutal force and power who wears the darkest Jewel in the realm beside the Black. An assassin who wears the Grey. A Warlord who wears the Red. That is the start of the Grey Queen's Court. I cannot make you stay Prince Mikhail, but I can beg you to. Because if you do not... Then the tapestry will rot. The threads will untangle and fall through the Darkness and the next tapestry will begin to rot again. This time the rot will be a mold that leads to a plague. It will be fought, but how can one survive a plague? Ashes, Prince. I see black ashes." Faeril's tone took on the queer dreamer's voice as it grew in strength. Falling silent, Fatima would realize the woman had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Gennar and his brother landing and hurrying over to her with looks of worry on their faces.

Location: Ashkevron residence, front yard -> Faeril's bedroom -> Front yard in a tree

Xandar Markov gracefully landed back down to the Earth as he yawned into his hand, stretching out his muscles as he vanished his armor and shirt, stripping himself down only to his trousers before summoning a cigarette into his hand. He lit it with his finger, taking a long drag of it before slowly exhaling, trying to calm himself down from his adrenaline high. It seemed the fighting was all but over, at least from external forces. The fighting within themselves, however, had only just begun. He looked to his side and put a hand over where it stitches were, making sure none had been popped yet. And well, it seemed like it was almost a miracle they weren't, because he would not be hearing the end of it if they were popped. He did have the others cuts on his leg and shoulder, but that was more of an annoyance than a real concern.

The Warlord Prince slowly made his way to where all the bodies of soldiers were lying down, and he realized that there were two less bodies than he had originally counted. After a quick glance around he realized that they must have been some that he had knocked unconscious and they had most likely fled. Which he was down the cliff at the time, the people at the Eyrie were not capable of holding prisoners of war apparently. Oh well, at least someone would be able to explain the atrocities that happened here and it could stand as an example and a warning. But still, if others could report it, that meant that staying there any longer was probably not going to be an option.

Only four of the men had not been led to their death, so that means that two were still alive among the group of bodies, and he quickly distinguished which ones were which. The Ebon-Grey separated the two men from the corpses and summoned some rope, binding them tightly together and stripping them of their weapons. He left them tied to one of the few trees in the front gardens, msking sure it would be quite difficult and very loud if they tried to escape. The rest of the bodies, however, he stripped them of our their belongings and tossed the now bare bodies off the side of the cliff. He was sure something or another would eat them, he would have burned them but the smell might not have be too kind to the others around him. They did not deserve a proper burial. While most of them had normal weapons and armor, there was one of the higher jeweled individuals that had something extra on him. A handful of gold marks, which he quickly pocketed, but also a rough note. It briefly described the location they were in and told of the presence of Faeril and himself. This was definitely planned, and with this sort of information there was bound to be a rat, either within their group or somewhere in town. Thsi ony added to the fact theat they wouldn't be safe here for very much longer.

Finally he came back to where the rest of the group was standing and waved his hand, vanishing the shield that encompassed the Queen and Faeri, noticing that Faeril was also passed out. Shaking his head, he finished the last of his cigarette and crushed the rest into his hand, blowing out a cloud of smoke into the crisp air. He bent down, carefully holding Faeril in his arms, careful not to wake her. Although at this rate there was almost nothing that could possibly wake her from such an exhausted sleep. Xandar didn't pay any attention to any person near him besides Fatima, who had been treating Faeril before she passed out. "I'm taking her to her bedroom so that she may rest, I won't be long." Xandar said this in a calm, effortless tone, directing the message at only her but it was loud enough for the rest to hear as well. Without waiting for a response he walked away into the house, burhsing past Mikhail as if the man didn't exist as he made his way to the bedroom, careful to avoid the chunks of flesh.

Xandar gave a soft sigh as he set down the Black Widow, pulling the covers up over her and tucking her in properly as he brushed some of the hair streaming into her face. She almost looked peaceful when she wasn't awake. "You may have saved my life but you have caused me quite the headache these last few days, Faeril. Whatever it is you have weaved better be worth my time. I don't know what's more stressful, the people trying to kill us or the people here that already want me dead." Xandar chuckled, knowing that she couldn't even hear him as he turned to walk away, opening the door before pausing in the door frame. "Although, to tell you the truth, this might be the most excitement I've had in months. Sweet dreams, Widow. I'll see you again when you have the strength to curse me out."

Now alone in the kitchen, he summoned the supplies he had been asked to keep a hold of on the side of the kitchen, stacking them properly so that someone else could go through them. He stifled another yawn, thinking of what to do next but realizing he was also quite tired from the events of today, considering his condition. Exiting the house, he made his way back to the tree where the two men were still tied up, and he lifted himself up into the air with his wings so that he could sit on one of the low hanging branches. He stretched his legs across it, his back against the tree as he rested his head, feeling some of his joints and bones crack in an unpleasant way. Summoning another cigarette, he lit it and held it in his mouth as he watched the storm clouds above him. He knew he would have to take some time to rest and relax before he had the patience to deal with what would inevitably come next.

Jandar ascended the staircase, Jassen’s corpse set across his shoulders. He eventually made his way to a garden in front of what he presumed might be the Black Widow’s residence. Fatima, Faeril, Xandar, and the Dea Al Mon were gathered there, while the female archer had been at the cliff side last he’d seen her. Faeril’s male Eyrien allies were approaching as well. The Kaeleeran Warlord was in luck; he’d managed to catch the Black Widow’s vision. Jandar offered the Dea Al Mon a quick glance, acknowledging him with a brief nod – the male was drawn to Fatima’s court, much as Xandar and himself were. However, the Kaeleeran’s main concern was his lady. Fatima was apparently healing Faeril, but he suspected she wasn’t as well as she could be; she’d tried desperately to get to Jassen, though she was rightfully prevented from putting herself in danger by Markov.

Now, he had brought that corpse to her. The battle was finished, and though they’d all have to recuperate, and more importantly, discuss their next steps, now would perhaps be the only opportunity for Fatima to take a bit of time to mourn her servant. He noticed peripherally that Markov had bound some of the enemies and tossed the rest off the cliff, though he seemed to have found some sort of a note on one of them, which he pocketed. That, too, was something Jandar could ponder later; now, he simply ignored everyone else present, approached Fatima, crouched down by her side, and set Jassen’s body gently on the ground, setting his neck to rights so at least the corpse’s head wouldn’t loll so unnaturally. The Warlord imagined the sight would be gruesome and disheartening for Fatima in any case, but at least if he composed Jassen’s body to look as peaceful as was possible, it may help her. Of course, if the Queen felt compelled to touch the body or discover the cause of death, well…Jandar supposed he could only offer to be there, at her side.

And with that, when the corpse was set down, Jandar said only “My Lady,” as if presenting her with the facts or offering her a meagre gift. But what else could he do? The Warlord glanced at Fatima cautiously, inched a foot or so away from the body, then shifted from a crouch to a more comfortable kneeling position. The Queen would have space enough to cry over the corpse if that’s what she wanted, but Jandar was close enough to watch over her and provide comfort if that proved necessary. In any case, he remained watchful, focused on Fatima, taking note of even the most minor of her reactions and expressions. A cool, detached part of him wondered if Fatima was competent enough to go through losing a minion without suffering a mental break, but on a more surface level of his consciousness, Jandar was simply performing what he considered as his duty to his future Queen.