Leith was taken aback by Uicle's retort. While he had been expecting a slightly annoyed response, the harshness of it had been surprising. When Uicle took a deep breath, which made Leith raise an eyebrow, and said that his day had been bad, Leith started to giggle. Quickly, the giggles turned into chuckles, and from chuckles to full-blown hysterical laughter. After a few moments, he gained control and looked up at Uicle, a bitter smile on his face. "I think I may have you beat if you say your day has just been bad. I believe I misspoke when I said my day had gone sour." Leith's smile turned into a grimace.

"Because I may have inadvertently caused the death of a student and her child." Leith felt sick to his stomach as he said those words, and he was sure that it was quite noticeable on his face. He looked up at the roof and swallowed as he felt a lump form in his throat. "So what happened to you that made your day bad?"

Grey’s Lucky Stars….
Val wasn’t happy. Her hands lifted at Lucilia’s explanation and elbows set on either side of Grey’s arms, suspended her tools in the air. She had paused in her work as her attention narrowed on the more petite vampire. How many times had she told folks, never mess Runes. The hold point of the kit was a temporary patch while Lucilia could then get her for a more permanent one. Yet now, of all times, the teacher decided to be selective in her memory? That didn’t settle well with Val. Namely when it came to something this critical as she set back to her work, her mind distracted from her hard glare at Lucilia back to Grey when Lidda arrived.

“Next time, ye be gittin’ me. Runes ain’t somethin’ ye should be messin’ round wit. Not witout the gift n’ as a teacher, youse should’ve know tis!” Came Val’s harsh scolding, her hands already began fixing the damage done. Despite the grave situation she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship. Once she had done, Lidda did her part. The Vitamnacer mended the flesh and once more sealed the flesh, hiding the runes from sight, before stepping back to allow Lucilia her bit.

Val breathed a sigh of relief when it was over. Her hand covered in blood as were Lidda’s, but the man was going to be alright. Taking the tools to the makeshift sink, Val started to sterile them and washed off the red. Lidda however was checking the man’s vitals, ready to keep him steady incase something had gone wrong. When the operation ended she was the first to speak up. “Well, now that’s over. Who’s going to take him to the infirmary? I don’t think Lucilia’s got a cot for him to stay on and I would feel more comfortable if Sam and the others were tending to him. “

“Ah’ll take ‘im. Was headin’ thar anyway.” Val said calmly while she put the kit back into its place. “I hope tis is the only incident today. The armies are gittin’ rather…prickly.”

Gently, with the aid of a rune and her own strength, Val levitated Grey from the table. Her hand rested just under him and body ridged, she started to float him out towards the medical area. Her pace steady as she vanished down the hallways to drop off her charge within a returning Sam’s lap.

Alaira Taenn

As Alaira listened to the man, she felt more and more violent as time went on. She toyed with the notion of hitting him with a heavy stick until he went back to sleep, surely Lucilia wouldn't mind? BUt luckily for the guy's skull Lucilia had also apparently had enough, and decided to knock him unconscious in a slower, less brutish manner. After that, he was more or less bolted into his cot, before Lucilia turned to her. The vampiress ordered her to more or less make sure he didn't get back up, to which she responded with a groan. Now she had to babysit him? Whatever, he'd be asleep soon enough, and it wasn't like she had anything better to do. So, she hopped up on an unoccupied cot, and waited.

Annabeth Gulch

Ah. Family. What to say, what to say... "Well... I have family back at Eania. They run an inn at Shimmerstone. The business runs pretty well before I came there, so I didn't feel too worried about leaving when I got the letter from the college to attend." Annabeth was rather brief about her family. She didn't exactly feel too comfortable talking more about it and just sat in silence, curling her finger around the cot's blanket.

Lucilia Riovas

Lucilia didn't comment, silently taking Val's words without protest. Sure she could try to justify her actions, make excuses, but they both know that it would lead to nowhere. What was important right now was to save Grey; they could berate her for her actions later. Soon after Val was finished Lidda restored Grey's arms, finishing with Lucilia feeding him a liquid that should ensure that he'd be back in action before dinner. She also slipped her letter into his pocket, so he could read it when he wakes up. Val left with Grey, making a final note about the tension between the armies. "Oh yes, them... Ug." That was right, she still needed to keep an eye on them too. She wished she didn't have to babysit two armies full of grown adults, soldiers no less! But power made people do crazy things. "I can only hope that today doesn't get any more hectic than it already has..." Restore the previous state of her office before it was converted into an operating room Lucilia went to work amassing some of the papers she had previously received and reading over them. "I'd hope that you two have had a better time today?"

Cynn Ellime

Cynn was intrigued. She had always been an only child, and Annabeth already knew how much she disliked her parents. So, what about her? Did this girl have any siblings? And how well did her parents treat her? Certainly they were better than hers, as they'd already raised such a nice and likable child. The forest elf decided, beyond how much her brain told her it was a bad idea to talk, that she would do just that.

"So," she started, excited for the human's answer. "Do you have any siblings? And...your parents...surely they're lovely folks, no? I mean...they raised such a generous and selfless child..."

Ryonara said
After dropping of Locas at the Infirmary, Meirin stayed hidden around the shadows. She was shocked when she saw Lucilia at the Infirmary already, no doubt angry that she was taking so long to get those needles. Meirin didn't dare to show her face, an left as soon as she could. She hear the herbamancy teacher tell the demon to take the needles back to her office, so Meirin guessed she wasn't needed there. Perhaps it would have been best if she simply stayed out of sight again. So she just wondered around the college, on patrol an making sure no one was acting up again. But mostly she just wanted to be alone and reflect on her actions. She wanted to think that she was just trying to help for bringing Leith back to the Infirmary, but given how chaotic everything was, Meirin didn't feel that she helped at all. Setting those thoughts aside however, she stopped an turned around to the stranger behind her.

Haklo had been traversing the halls of the collage, talking with other students and gathering rumors and gossip, by the time he saw the red headed woman known as Meirin. He knew of her, a weaver by what he had heard and he found that rather interesting, truly rare magic too. He couldn't help but activate his power and turned it towards her. He wasn't prying, more confirming what he might have seen in the girl's expression. The girl seemed conflicted and a little beaten down by something and he got that impression more so when he directed his power at her. He decided to follow her then and wasn't really making an effort not to be seen but kept a respectful distance. When she stopped, he took a few more steps and then stopped as well.

"Well, to be honest, I assume that you are carrying a heavy burden. You seem troubled by something and I was wondering why." Haklo said honestly, approaching her. "Maybe I can be of assistance?"

Well, the woman had refused his irrefusable request. Not only that, but she'd shot him full of something that was making him incredibly tired. Locas was shocked; that trick normally worked. It mattered not now, as he'd soon be asleep, a state he didn't wish to be in.

Turning to Alaira, who had decided to take a cot for herself, he figured that irrefusable offers were probably going to be his best bets today.

"Alaira," he began, noting the difficulty it took to say merely one word, "We didn't get off on the right foot." The elf gave him a look that seemed to convey, "You just figured that out, dumbass?"

"Look, I know I used a terrible pickup line, and I figured it would make you angry. I completely understand that you're pissed at me. So, right now, I'm going to try to compensate. What Blood runs through your veins?"

"...Electromancy," she responded after a long pause, hate plainly obvious in her voice.

Locas's face lit up, or did the closest thing to lighting up that he could in his drowsy state. A better answer could not be devised. What he had planned...it could be said that a reasonable amount of pain would be needed, an amount he was sure that someone like Alaira would be happy to provide him, given her current anger towards him

"I propose this," the human said, smiling. "I would very much prefer that I didn't fall asleep. I'm prone to nightmares, full of things I'd much rather not drudge up at this point in time. Therefore, given your proficiency with electrical currents, I ask that you give me a shock of electricity whenever I begin to drift off. Feel free to decide the amount of pain you think is...necessary." He placed emphasis on the last word, in a roundabout way of saying that she could torture him without flat-out implying that she would want to. "What do you say?"

The girl seemed to be giving it fair consideration, so Locas continued.

"Of course, I would ask for something in return. Mere conversation would be more than enough. I simply wish to have something to occupy me while the medicine wears off." At this, Alaria seemed to get a little less curious, but Locas hoped she would still consider it fairly, as he was already feeling himself drift off.

---

Alaira smirked a little when the man seemed to realize his little trick didn't work. Dumbass, you couldn't use words on Lucilia, she's a gods-damn master. She had felt a sense of dread the moment he turned to her, which meant talking would be involved. He apologized again, but said apology implied she was offended by the quality of it rather than the line itself. "If you knew it'd piss me off, why'd you say it?" She asked, and by the tone of her voice she was likely struggling to keep her self from just murdering him on the spot.

He'd asked what her Mageblood was, and she raised an eyebrow. But she decided to just tell him, asking why would likely produce more bullshit. He seemed to be happy about that... for some reason, and she regretted telling him immediately. He told her to, basically, shock him a few times so he doesn't go to sleep, because nightmares. W-what? Did this guy have any idea how magic works? She couldn't just shock him over and over, she could do it maybe... three times, before she passed out? Even so, it wasn't easy to perform. And then he's acting like he's doing her a favor, and he wants more things?!

Alaira looked about ready to explode, but stopped suddenly, as realization dawned. Why should she do what he says? She thought as an evil smirk played across her face. Zapping him would likely be directly disobeying Lucilia, and all she had to do was let him fall asleep. Then, he'd shut te hell up, AND be suffering. Se liked this idea. "I don't know, the idea of you suffering and being quiet with no effort on my part is awfully tempting..." she said, gazing off into the corner in what could be assumed was deep thought.

---

Locas rolled his eyes as the elf stared into a corner of the room. He knew it was meant to show introspection, but if she thought that he wouldn't see through that, he was giving her too much credit. Or maybe he'd been right the first time, and she was just kind of arrogant. Still, she was fooling no one.

"I was held hostage six years ago." He could see that he'd gotten her attention a small amount. Suddenly, though, he was falling asleep. He reached out to Alaira for a shock, hoping for something to keep him up.

---

As much as she liked to pretend, Alaira wasn't actually that cruel. So, when he reached out, she sighed, and gave him what he wanted. She hopped off of her cot, and walked over to him. She grabbed him by both sides of the head, and delivered a shock right into his skull. Partly because she wanted it to really hurt, and partly because it wouldn't take as much power. Wordlessly, she returned to her cot, and stared. "You do realize I can do that two, maybe three more times, right?" She said, trying to tell him of the futility of this nonsense.

---

Jolting awake, it took Locas a few moments to remember why he'd just been shocked. He smiled at Alaira, happy. "Thanks," he said. It was good to know that she had a good conscience. At her mention that she wouldn't be able to shock him more than three times after that, he scoffed.

"You're a strong one, Alaira," he said seriously. "You have more power than you'd think, you just let the teachers tell you that it's normal to only do so much. You're only limited by your mind when it comes to magic power. You might die if you go too far, sure, but you can use all of it up until that point. Now," he said, clasping his hands together. "Where were we? Oh yes, my captivity."

"It was actually ten years ago. I spent four in captivity, held for ransom. Made a few friends, and we ultimately escaped together. Had to 'weasel' my way out of things to help everyone escape. It's a method of survival, and a hard habit to break. I can't really control my more...manipulative outbursts." The way Locas said it, it was hard not to pity him, but he just felt pathetic about it.

"I was in love with a girl named Avi..." His voice began to falter, but he had to keep going. He had to make sure that she knew why he was putting her through this. "She...She was a lot like you. She was sarcastic, strategic, and kind. Sure, she had blonde hair, but her eyes were exactly the same as yours... Anyway, she led our group of escaped hostages.

"Then, one day...the three remaining captors snuck into camp. I was in the tent with Avi, talking about how great a leader she was, and about how she didn't need to doubt herself..." Locas felt tears pushing at his eyes at this point, and, despite how much he tried to hide it, that sadness was present in his voice.

"The quarrel...I didn't even hear it. One moment she was smiling, and the next there was a shaft sticking out from her stomach. I dropped to the ground...I knew they had seen her by her shadow against the tent...so I crawled over to the tent flap and waited...

"Long story short, I killed all of them. It was the angriest I'd ever been...I moved faster than they could have seen... It was short work. But...still, when I got back over to check on Avi...she'd been dead since the bolt hit her."

He was blatantly crying now, the shaking and the tears slurring his speech.

"I went out... I went out into...the main...the main part of the camp... They'd SLAUGHTERED everyone." Locas took a few seconds to let his anger and sadness out, sobbing. "There...there were...body parts...arms, legs...HEADS... They were everywhere... Some had even been placed on the torsos...of their best friends..."

For a solid thirty seconds he sobbed, not daring to look up, not daring to see those eyes... Locas would break if he did. He'd find something in the room and end it, then and there, and he couldn't let all the progress he'd tried to make be in vain. So he sobbed, head in hands, not even remembering how bad the electrical shock had hurt in regards to this.

When he recovered, he knew he had to finish.

"When I say," he started, voice still wavering. "That I'm prone to nightmares... That's what I dream about. It's not every hundred dreams, nor is it every twenty, ten, or two. Every single time I fall asleep I dream of that day...and I can't wake up until it's over."

He sighed, finished now, but still he dared not look into Alaira's eyes.

---

Alaira scoffed right back when the man went on a tangent about magic power. "I'm pretty sure I know my own damn limits. I just tested them twenty minutes ago for Leehna's sake." She said. When she said she couldn't cast a billion spells, she meant it. Still, she listened to his story.

His sad little story did nothing to ease her fury, but she kept quiet. What did this have to do with her? She could be playing with Lyn, but she had to listen to this guy instead. "So, you just gonna spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself, or what," Alaira asked. She'd been through worse. Sure the memory was fuzzy at best but whenever she did remember... anyway, the point was that this crap could be beaten. "You wanna know what happened to me? I'll skip to the end, you don't. You can't just cry about it, it's already done." While harsh, there was a certain truth to her words. Mostly she just regretted leaving Lyn, though.

---

Locas couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew he had an issue with feeling for others, but he also knew suffering wasn't a competition. And who the hell did Alaira think she was, telling him to just forget about it? Did it not occur to her that he'd tried that already? He literally could never forget about what happened that day.

It was time to let her know that he wasn't someone that you could just provoke and be annoyed with. He wasn't a wasp without a stinger.

He stood up.

"Stood" is an unfair verb to use. He certainly half-stood, on his one good leg, but he had to prop the other one up by using his aeromancy. And so he "stood", angry, looking at Alaira, no longer afraid of her eyes.

A draft was felt in the room, building gradually.

"You know why I cry about it," he asked, in his normal neutral tone. "I cry about it because, if I don't, I snap. And when I snap, I do this."

At that, Locas shot forward, injured arm now completely weightless. His right fist connected with the forest elf's lower chest, and he felt a rib or two break. He picked her up and flung her away from the cot she'd been on, into the center of the room. It took him a moment to realize his feet weren't touching the ground, and he gradually lowered himself onto the floor.

"This is what happens when I don't give two shits about what happens to someone," he explained coolly. "If you want to keep all your limbs, you make sure you never reach that status."

---

Alaira was stunned. He'd hit her. Just... out of nowhere! Alright, this shit had gone on far too long. Pulling herself out of the mass of cots she had been launched into (luckily, they were unoccupied), she stood up and dusted herself off. She looked the guy over, clearly he was far too angry for his own damn good. Now, contrary to popular belief, Alaira had amazing control of her anger; it's what made her rage a potent weapon rather than a liability. But this guy? He was careless, stupid. Clearly he couldn't really control himself. He didn't really seem to give two shits about valid targets.

Now, he needed to be stopped. There were many people all throughout the place all in various states of health, and if he continued his little magic tantrum some of them may die. And the fact that she had almost been blasted into the area that held Lyn and Mar...

Alaira was sick of this bullshit, so very tired of it. Without a word, she marched right up to him. She stood there for a moment, glaring at him. She raised her arm up, and slapped him in the face. It wouldn't deal damage, sure. But it might at least get him to calm the fuck down. "Get a hold of yourself." She more or less growled at him. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer. "I've seen enough violence today, I don't need anyone making this worse, so sit down, shut up, and I'll pretend this never happened, clear?" With that, she forcibly sat him down on his own cot, finding it easier than she'd first expected, and returned to the pile. She then picked up one of the other cots, put it back up, and sat on it, watching to see if the bastard would try any more bullshit.

---

Having been sat down, his anger subdued, Locas was...absent. What had he just done? He should have dragged her out into the halls or something before he decided that all bets were off. He could have actually killed someone, and probably would have killed himself if he'd kept it up for much longer. It was obvious that something had to be done.

As he was contemplating this, the adrenaline began to fade, and he instantly felt the pain in his arm and torso. He underwent a spasm lasting four seconds, trying to get himself in a better position on the cot all the while. Finally, the human student collapsed onto his cot, gasping for breath.

Raising his left arm to his nose, he gave a quick yank, breaking it instantly. He then proceeded to dislocate his shoulder, trying to compensate for the broken ribs he'd given another living being. Then, painfully, he turned on his side to face Alaira, eyes half full of terror and half full of sadness.

As he started to speak, he felt the sedative kick in again.

"I...I don't deserve to stay awake. If I scream, stuff my mouth." His words were no longer neutral. They had a sad, defeated tone to them. "I don't wish to disturb the other patients any more than I already had. And Alaira," he asked, softly. "Will you do your best not to utterly hate me?"

Locas Jule then proceeded to black out.

Lidda

The Vitamancer teacher watched Lucilia move to her desk after she commented upon what Val had said, her tone and word choice reflected Lidda's own personal ones. The two armies seemed more determined to bring their conflicts to the College rather then leave them at home, causing a stressful situation for all the staff. Worse part was her own father had been chosen as the official, likely due to her currently position, which meant she would have to have heart to heart with him at some point. Not something the woman looked forward to. Slowly, Lidda followed Lucilia to her desk then turned about to rest her rear against the desk edge before she spoke, her arms crossed over her front. All four of them.

"Yeah, sad to say no. I had to stop a Djarkel group from sparking a fight with a Geomancer soldier from Yarsomere after Craig told them off Eania. Then they had the nasty gull to sass me." Lidda's eyes seemed to light up when she recalled the memory, her mind amused at the men's expressions when she ended up sealing their joints with surprising ease. "Had to show the type of tolerance we had for trouble makers with a few stiff joints."

She sighed then added with a slight grudging tone. "Eania and Djarkel is the most problematic. Their fued goes back so far, I don't think any of them remember the reason it started. So uh, I'll be glad when all we have to deal with is novice mishaps with magic again."

Her words trailed off a bit and in a moment, she picked up. Her eyes noted only Rathel was still in the room which meant she would have to walk back to her station. Unless she twisted her lower legs inot hooves and galloped there, a much quicker traveling method then walking. "Now with what happened with Grey, there's another thing we're going to have to deal with. Especially Khan and he's got enough on his plate as it is. With pacifying the warring armies and trying to seek a way that works for everyone without dragging the College into it. I don't envy his job really. Namey because Eania's holier then thou attitude and Djarkel's rogue pride. terrible mix."

An arm removed from it's resting position then causually skirted her hair over her shoulder and let the single plait rest behind her. It's white length reached down to her shoulder blades where it sat, her figured flipped about with a rather risky idea. "Can we just tell Khan after the delegates leave? Why add more flames to his fire then needed?"

Without giving Lucilia a chance to answer, she moved towards the exit, her voice was tossed back to Rathel. "Mind coming with me, Rathel? I might need some help tying up some unreasonable Eania pains after all and been using a lot of my blood lately as it is. See you at the feast Lucilia and think about what I mentioned."

After that she and Rathel left.

Timeskip: few hours into evening.

Khan

The ever set twilight skies in the College had darkened red across the horizon. Bells tolled when the evening settled into the surroundings, the area doused in a crimson and dark beauty. Hot, soldering kitchens had been slaving away all day to both feed the current residents and new arrives with overwhelming hospitiality. Creatures of all shapes and sizes stirred to their tasks, filled with pride and determination to show their skills to the guests. The teachers had all gathered at the head table into their respective seats, waiting for the officials, followed by Khan, to emerge from the doorway. It had been a while since the current meeting within the main building had drawn to a close.

With a weary and steady pace, Khan's figure was among the first from that meeting to show up within the Dining Hall. His eyes seemed to show his exhaustion and the recent weight held by his shoulders. His hand reached out for his chair and pulled it back, the legs squeaked in his carelessness which made even his ears hurt. His body flinched then forced himself not to plop down when he was able to take a seat. The meeting still vivid from the continual bickering between the variety of members, the worse of the lot were Earnia and Djarkel. The latter kept purposely prodding with snide remarks hidden in her comments. Each one directed to point out the flaws and try to sway the College in Djarkel's favor. However Eania had chosen their delegate well, Lidda's father hadn't rose to the bait set but instead retorted with his own remarks. It was only with Khan's reasoning, bordering threats, which had cease the squabble. Over all, he felt like he was watching children too old and set in their ways to change.

His hands reached for a pitcher, filled with the Ember liquid and filled a goblet. The bright, pretty color rapidly filled the container as he sat backwards, propped against the chair back. He swirled the chalise as his eyes watched in a vacant way towards the doorway. Students, soldiers and more had started to enter at their leisure eager for the sights and sounds of the Twilight College's feast. Most of the arrangements had been left to Lucilia and Uicle while he was tied up. To make things worse, he had recently learned of the recent attempt upon the Naga and her child's life. Including Xyden's involvement. When histhoughts turned back to the recollection, Khan's hand reached to gently rubbed his temple and ease the tension headache building. Too much to do and nothing pleasant at all. He put the goblet to his lips and took a long draft, his instinct fought the urge to swallow it all before he set the mostly empty cup back upon the table.

"I feel like I'm getting too old for this..." He commented, partly to those beside him and mostly to himself.

Tyrael & Mar

It felt like a month since he left to the Inferno. Time winded down in ways that doesn't accurately reflect here in the Mortal world, and he had worried that he had been too late. But his Familiars ensured him that he would arrive shortly before he was needed, and they were right. Tyrael didn't bother to be subtle when he arrived; as the two armies quarreled, Tyrael had tear open portals between the Inferno and the Mortal world for himself. And his army. Compared to the hundreds gathered at the college, thousands of demons poured out from the Inferno Portals. Those on Eania prepared themselves for battle, thinking that Djarkel had finally decided to attack. Djarkel were simply confused, as they have yet to give that order to attack. But before either side could truly begin to battle, Tyrael made his presence known. "ENOUGH. The feast to foster the growing relationship between the college and it's sovergn nations in a few hours. Prepare yourselves for it." It seemed that neither side was really listening and were about to attack, but first they'd have to go through Tyrael and his army. His army that outnumbered bothsides ten-to-one. Combined. It was a show of power that he knew Eania feared, and that Djarkel knew better than to challenge. It would be more difficult to convince the more bull-headed soldiers from causing trouble, but when he would have to deal with three hulking demons, Eania or Djarkel, the odds were not in their favor. Tyrael ordered his demon army to set up post within the college to act as guardsmen. Unlike the others who stay out of sight and only act during troubles, Tyrael had his demons on standby and placed everywhere in plain sight. Ever teen feet there was a demon standing like a statue, just waiting for someone to cause trouble. They were everywhere, from the lowest reaches of the caverns to lining the top of the roofs of towers. The demons were oddly quiet, just standing around menecingly, watching, waiting.

After Tyrael had set up captains amoung his more trusted demons, he was about to go to his room to get ready for the feast when one of his students came to greet him. He had forgotten that he had students and not just demons. The student chatted with Tyrael, asking him things about the Inferno and the demons he met. Tyrael anwsered him simply and deflected his questions. But than the student mentioned something happening to Mar. "Wait. Say that again?" The student told Tyrael that Mar was seen in the heading towards the Infirmary with Athalus, Alaria, and a few golems. And a child. Tyrael didn't stay a second longer and headed towards the Infirmary. "A child... A living child. I could scarcly beleive it..." Tyrael passed the demons guarding the entrance to the Infirmary and entered. Not too far away was Mar, holding something wrapped in cloths. Tyrael did not move an inch when he heard the sound of the child, cooing to it's mother.

Mar held Lyn close and gently rocked her, her eyes stared in a lazy way upon the sight. She was alone within the room as Althalus had decided to clear away the plates which he earlier arrived with, their contents quickly emptied between the three hungry mouths. Lyn stilled chewed upon the last piece with a delighted twinkle in her eyes and the small toy held in her firm grasp, the only object that hadn't been unfortunately marred with blood. Mar's coils had adjusted to situate her comfortable in the room's center still unable to digest the previous happenings which had conspired or their meaning. Her mind was still locked in such thoughts when someone, a familiar heavy footed individual, had arrived.

Her head turned to spot the monotone coloring of Tyrael's flesh. She started to turn and face him, the cloth loosely wrapped about her child within her holding hands. The brown eyes softened a bit upon seeing the Fallen Orc, a sign she had changed a bit among those within the college, then spoke. Her voice was calm and steady in its approach. "Tyrael, meet Lyn. My daughter."

She let the words settle in to his mind while draw, cautiously, closer. Her tail glided easily to bring her within a range where he could easily see Lyn's hand hold the hunk of meat and chewed it rather relentlessly, more out of entertainment then actual hunger. Mar made a mental note to seek out some prey with a tough hide then fashion something for Lyn to teeth upon, unsure if the infant would develope her own set of fangs with vemon.

The demon orc wasn't sure what he should do. He didn't think he had any right to see the child, and yet he wanted to anyways. Mar did ask him to meet her daughter... Lyn... He strode quietly towards the two. He did not stand too close to the child or her mother. In fact, Tyrael stayed only close enough to see the child, but not for her to see him. He was quite aware of how his usual apperance had on children, which was an obstacle he had to deal with when he raised his own child. Or had to deal with orphaned demonmancers.

Though the child was covered in blankets Tyrael knew that it had two legs instead of a tail like her mother. A sure sign that Athalus was indeed the father. The baby was already teething as well, not a surprise to Tyrael. He was aware of Naga's quick growth and maturtiy. He estimated that in perhaps three months, the child would already be walking on it's own two feet. Maybe even speaking. So many things this child could do, would do, and the first of her kind as well. But part of him wondered what role he'd play in her life. If he ever could. HIs shoulders were relaxed, his face was almost screne. He didn't look like he was about to kill someone for once, mostly because for this one moment, he wanted to cherish what life could offer. But as quickly as he would kill his prey, Tyrael resumed his usual firm stance. "Congradulations." It was all he could really say. Nothing else he thought of would really convery what he felt about seeing Mar's child. A certain amount of happiness. A bit of regret. Guilt. An odd anger. But mostly, he was peace. Something that he has forgotten about in a long time.

"She doesn't frighten easily. Naga's are most impressionable by those they see." Mar bluntly explained after Tyraels's congradulations had passed. His demeanor, she noted, had only changed for a moment then once more seemed to resume back to its original state.

Mar sighed at Tyrael's rather usual behavior, at least to her. Why were males so...difficult? Didn't he understand it was important for Lyn to see him and draw that trust connection? She couldn't help the fury of quesitons pounded upon her skull at Tyrael's stubbornness. A slight, but mild, frustration had flutter through her while her eyes looked down. Lyn seemed too busy to notice the pair of eyes which glanced upon her, her daughter's attention fully on the meat chunk that drew a slight giggle. It was unlikely Lyn would've cared as very little, save for the incident with Xyden had frightened her. Without warning Tyrael about what she was going to do, Mar tilted Lyn upright enough where her head was still supported but the child's eyes came face to face with him.

Lyn paused. Her little eyes widen upon sighting the Demonomancer, her little fist seemed to had dropped the little tidbit onto the floor yet her eight never wavered from Tyrael. For a moment, one would assume the baby would sudden cry and wail. Instead a slight giggle came, one that started out small then flowed into slightly delighted shrieks. Mar's look had an expression which seemed to have a 'told you so' attitude to it. Another deep breath, Mar slowly repositioned Lyn back to her laying state and cradled safely within her arms. With surprising gentleness, she then asked a question. "Would you like to hold her?"

"I would imagine so..." Tyrael said blankly. He wasn't really thinking, which certainly didn't do him any favors when Mar suddenly lifted Lyn up to his face. He has faced many horrors and evils in his life, but this was one of the few moments that he showed some sort of fear. It was foolish of him, but it was too late so try to hide it when he flinched at little Lyn's sudden apperanace. He feared the worse, but instead of cries he got giggles. She seemed more concerned with the slab of meat she was chewing to be in fear of him. Tyrael wasn't sure what to make of that. Mar lowered her child down gave him a look that told him that his worries were misplaced. He tried to keep his composure, but returned his own look of sarcastic indifference. It never hurt to be too careful. But once more he was caught off guard when Mar asked him a simple question; if he wanted to hold Lyn. Instinctivlty he looked at his arms. He had thought that they would, at the worse, be scarred by runes, but he had previously forgotten that he was in battle just a few hours ealier. His arms was still barbed and serrated, the better to cause wounds with. He had to channel one of his Familiars to remove the thorns, but even than he noticed that his arms were natrually spikey. He worried that he'd hurt Lyn with them and so he shook his head. "It would be for the best if I did not."

Mar looked at him with a raised eyebrow, her eyes lowered to the spiked arms then nodded her understanding. Though she was sure in a few years it would've been pointless as her daughter would've likely climbed upon him, a thing she noted was common to most bipeds. They seemed to enjoy denying gravity often enough. Since Tyrael was unable to hold Lyn, Mar turned her body to where Lyn could easily see him. Again, a soft giggle and wiggling arms greet him. It seemed her daughter wasn't easily fazed by most things and Mar felt a warm, proud feeling wash over her in that moment. She knew then, Lyn would grow into a fine Naga.

"Some point, that won't matter. Bipeds do tend to climb and Lyn isn't likely to be any different." Mar stated her thoughts clearly.

For a moment, she let the silence pass as Tyrael and her stood there. It wasn't as simple as Mar originally had hoped it would've been, her eyes drifted back to Tyrael before finally breaking it. "You were right...about my banishment being a death sentence. I'm never going home again..."

It seemed some hidden hurt was in her words. Something easily spotted despite her attempt t hide it, her eyes still fixed to the reason she would remain at the College. Lyn seemed to had gotten sleepy, her head softly pressed into Mar's arm and started to fall into a slumber.

Tyrael smiled weakly (Or whatever he could pass as a smile anyways) and waved back at Lyn. He watched her squrim in her mother's arm. She was so lively even though Mar was holding her tightly. Now that he thought of it, this would be the first time he had ever seen the baby of a naga, or what would have to pass as one. Their children indeed grew up fast, and by the time word would have reached him that a new child was born it would already be ready to hunt it's own meal. That energy would be good though; if Lyn is anything like her mother, she would be full of passion, in her own way of course. When mar mentioned that Lyn would be something of a climber, he smirked. "They do tend to reach great heights." Tyrael mixed a bit of poetics in that phrase, though he also meant that literally. There wasn't a mountain in Tiien that hasn't be climbed by a mortal who left their mark, or their corpse. Lyn would do great things, he imagined.

As the baby grew tired and was about to sleep, Tyrael was considering taking his leave when Mar mentioned a thing of the past. Remorse was behind those words. Now that Lyn was born, here and alive, Mar could never return to her home, or even her people. It would have been one thing to merely have been exiled. But to bare a child with another mortal, that was something that he knew would never have gone well in any speicies. He was unsure of what to say about the situation. He was never good at consoling others, not without drowning them with a wave of words he hardly understood himself. So he might as well just try to speak from experience. "Home is not a location. It is not a town, or a building. It is where you can settle your life and live. That can be anywhere" Tyrael watched as little Lyn began to snore silently into her mother's bosom, the meat she was previously chewing now being held weakly in her hand. Slowly, he lifted his hand and reached towards Lyn. He gently caressed her cheek, feeling the soften against his fingers. He was careful not to let his claws touch her, and soon he withdrew his hand away from her face when she began to stir. Long ago his body was clad in steel, and now it still remained hidden under his armor. But he could still feel warmth, a bit of life even through his cold, dead flesh. It was a strange thing that he only felt when he was with his own daughter.

"In truth, I do not see this place as a home. Not the college. It is merely where I live for now. But to the north there is a small town, away from the world. Hidden in the darkness, where only demons live. But among them is someone whom I cherish deeply. Where she is was where I would call home. Where she would go I would ensure that she could live peacefully there, and I would always return for her." Before Tyrael would have losted himself talking about his daughter, he went strait to the point he was trying to make. "You have to find a new home. You will never return to Mesa Gaan. But it does not need to be your home any longer. Your home will be where you make it now." That's what he wanted to say, all those years ago. Part of him wished that it wasn't so; he liked the life he had before, before he had to become part of the college. The days he would spend in his forge creating things with meaning, hunting not only to entertain but to live, the thrills he had risking death. But despite longing for those days, they are gone now. He should not linger onto the past, nor should Mar. There were other things he needed to get over as well.

"What I said those many months ago... I appologize for having lashed out at you. I envy your independance. I have grown used to the ways of the college, and lost touch of those whom matter to me. I knew this, but lied to myself that it did not matter. But to have seen that you were still yourself, whereas I have allowed myself to be warped to greatly. I acted out in anger in an attempt to deny the both of us the idea that things would never be the same. However..." Tyrael closed his eyes and thought back to his home. His daughter, the place she was at. Or should have been. He wondered why she left, where she was now. What she wanted in her life. "That was never for me to decide. Not for you."

Mar listened to Tyrael's speech and while she wanted to believe it was as simple as he made it sound, it wasn't. The past couldn't just be forgotten because it was part of what them individuals. Fogetting it meant to ignore what and who they were, at least to Mar it did. Change was never simple for her kin and habits ingrained through DNA was difficult to be rid of, more so then it would be with Lyn, her child fell asleep softly and ignorant of the topic's importance. Even if the unthinkable would happened, the Naga always moved onwards but Mar wasn't sure how. Part of her, a weak part, could've lived comfortably at the College among it's many students and staff. However that wasn't a everlasting solution.

Another flaw she was inherited was the unsettling ability only to think of the present. Never the future as it would always become the present, something that didn't help her current case. She took a deep breath and replied. "I could do what you say yet there's one thing you're forgetting. Despite wanting to forget the past, it will always affect the present in some form or way. So it can never be truly forgotten. Naga aren't very good at adapting to new circumstances so I'm not sure how to begin. That is the main concern and one I will have to overcome in time. The most important task is Lyn's happiness and health first. The rest can wait."

Mar twisted to gently desposite her child upon the mattress and snuggled between several sheets to keep Lyn from rolling off. In addition, Mar's own tail had created another barrier. With one eye upon the sleeping form, Mar continued her conversation with Tyrael. "As for what happened... I was merely ignoring the truth of the matter and despite your rash way, it was likely best. I need to accept things I rather wish were otherwise. Only then can I do what's best for my daughter. Though since we're being truthful...I envy how easily you are able to show your emotions, even in anger. Something I find hard and confusing."

Tyrael stood silently as Mar spoke her part. The past always had a way to haunting you. But forgetting the past was not something he did. If he was that type of person, he would have never had bothered to bring Mar to the college. Or have anything to do with the naga. But he understood that it wasn't something that could be ignored. He knew that well, because that's what he's been trying, and failing, to do, for all these years. Moving on was difficult when he was still chained to the past. But didn't comment on it aside from his own internal monoluge. At least now Mar had some reason to live; to make sure Lyn is happy and healthy. Better than simply being here because he asked her too.

As Lyn continued to sleep Mar laid her gently down. Tyrael figured this would be the best time for him to leave and return to his duties as a teacher of the college before Mar had some final words. He smirked again when she mentioned how easy it was for him to express emotions. "Easy? Not the word I would use. Emotions are a powerful thing. But even my grasp of expressing them needs work. So I have been practicing." Tyrael than began to turn to leave, but halfway through he paused. "I must be present at the feast. I will be expecting some violence, you should as well." Little did the demonic orc know, violence was not about to come from their guest...

Mar simply nodded and then watched the Fallen Orc continue. She couldn't say anything that would change his mind or alter how he felt, merely allowed the moment to pass. Alongside it so would the discomfort. The only choice remained was would she attend the feast or merely avoided it for a quiet night between Althalus, Lyn and herself. Not wanted to dwell on impending decision's need to be made, she lowered herself to curl around her young offspring before they both fell into a blissful slumber.

Grey Onyx & Lucilia Roivas, some time ago.

Grey awoke, slowly. He was groggy as hell, but he noticed he was in a different room. What had happened... that's right! He had seen Lucilia to get his arm fixed, but she botched it somehow and he passed out. He took a look down at his arm, and as he removed the bandage, he found that his arm was as good as new. Wth a sigh of relief, he got up out of the cot he was stuck in, before a medic ran over and told him he needed his rest. With a yawn, Grey told the medic not to worry, he was just a little sleepy still, that's all. The medic insisted he stay in bed, and took a simple rune out to check his arm. She looked amazed when the thing found nothing wrong with him, and she insisted that he should at least take it easy. Grey simply nodded and rose, taking a minute to stretch as he did, he noticed a letter fall from his pocket.

It was from Lucilia, and it was clearly written a while ago. It mostly told him that she was sorry for her absence and would be back soon, but it also gave him instructions to see her after he had recovered. Always the obedient one, Grey decided that he was certainly healthy enough, and besides, he kind of wanted to know why he was all healthy. Sure, the whole school was full of healers with crazy powers, but he'd at least like to know who to thank.

Anyways, Grey had managed to find Lucilia's office from the infirmary quickly enough. Even after six months, he still had trouble with the layout at times. What he needed to work on was his sense of direction for Ren's sake. Anyway, he had arrived, and knocked on the door. "Miss Roivas? You asked to see me?"

---

Lucilia was preparing herself for the feast. She usually doesn't dress up this much (Though she tries to be classy on the day-to-day), but this feast was important. Although Khan and the college generally does it's best not to pick sides between Eania and Djarkel, it's not as though it did not have to benefit from allying with other interests. Indeed, as powerful as the Twilight College was, it still had to foster good relationship with various interests. And being on Eania and Djarke's good side was also important, even if they aren't exactly "allies". Lucilia aimed to make sure that the college is seen as a neutral party, not a third power or an ally of either Eania or Djarkel. Despite whatever contray to belief.

As Lucilia was applying her makeup, there was a knock at her door. She finished her work and went to awnser the door. Upon opening it she saw Grey. "Ah, Grey! I'm glad that you had gotten my letter. Come in, come in. How is your arm? Meirin's worries were well placed, it was damaged much more severly than you and I both had thought. I had to employ the service of a few other teachers to help me patch you up."

Ushering Grey inside, Lucilia added various accessories onto herself to be more appealing. Various fine cut jewelery, a scarf that wrapped around both her arms, a nice hat. And of course, a few flowers and such. Though pretty, they would also serve as Lucilia's emergency weapons; these flowers were specifically grown to have stems as hard as steel, but manipulable by herbamancers only. She also made sure to have a few potions tucked into her clothing in the event that they're needed; better to be prepared than hope for the best. Once she had finally finished dressing up, she turned towards the guardsman. "I'll get straight to the point. I would like you to serve as a guardsman at the feast. Only a certain few get to, our strongest and our best. Normally this is decided by the guard captains, but I want you personally to be there."

---

Grey didn't have to wait long, as Lucilia had answered almost immediately. He was a bit surprised at first, she didn't usually wear anything so... fancy. Still, that mattered little. She ushered him in, and was explaining things. Ah. It was just really bad. He thought upon hearing Lucilia's explanation. Of course, it was a lie, but he didn't know that and he had no reason not to trust her.

Anyway, as he entered he took a seat while she got ready for that feast later. At he thought of that, he was reminded of all the people here and his mood soured. These... leeches. He thought of all the various organizations that came here as nothing but a bunch of mooching slimeballs, all here so that they can have the big bad wizard castle help them out. It was bullshit. Even worse, as he heard it Khan wasn't doing well either, physically or emotionally. He'd heard Mathis talk about how a day that'd be coming up soon brought horrible memories for the headmaster, and he was certain the eysire didn't need anymore stress. Worse, Lucilia seemed to be the one that actually had to deal with most of this madness personally, though to be fair she did seem good at it.

Lucilia had then finished up, and Grey had to admit she looked quite good. Still, she hadn't told him why he was here yet. Though she had answered that question before he could ask it. He wasn't sure what to say about it. On the one hand, this was a great honor. But on the other hand, could he even help all that much if fighting broke out? "Thank you ma'am, but I'm not sure I can handle it..." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

---

"Now now..." Lucilia went over to Grey and put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "It's mostly just a bunch of flops in there trying to show off. Even the other guardsmen in there are merely those in high standing looking to make an impression. And while I trust that they're doing their job, I need an escort. Would you like to escort me to today's feast?" Lucilia whispered those last words flirtatiously near his ear. In truth, most of the guardsmen staffed at the feast would be Tyrael's demons and a few soldiers of the two nations. The actual guardsmen were posted outside, which meant that should something happen, Lucilia wouldn't have anyone to order around. She wanted someone who'd take action when she tells them too, and she believes that Grey would be that person.

---

Unfortunately for Grey, most people had an easy time manipulating him, especially women. Of course, Lucilia would have an easier time than normal with him as he had a crush of sorts on the woman. As she spoke to him, he felt himself lock up. He had a bit of trouble breathing even. Or was it remembering to breath? He couldn't tell. Her voice was... soft, like silk. "Uh, yes! I-I mean, I'd be honored to Ma'am." He started off a bit flustered, but he had managed to regain his composure. Well, it couldn't be too hard, right? Actual fighting was very unlikely. Regardless of his less then favorable opinions on the two nations, he didn't believe they'd be dumb enough to turn this place into a war zone.

---

"Excellent! Now than, we should try to get you into some appealing armor. Wouldn't want anyone to think that you were a mere guardsman. Follow me, see what you like." Lucilia opened her door and went down a few rooms. About the third door down she opened the metal entrance way and inside appeared to be some sort of broom closet. But after touching various stones in a set patter, the wall shifted, and revealed a small armory. "I ensure that I keep a well stock of equipment for many situations. Pick something that catches your eyes, or perhaps would you rather have me dress you?" Inside the armory was a vast array of suits and weapons. Most were fairly practical, kept shiny and clean for presentation. Others were more ornate and on the heavy side. The same went with weapons; she made sure to seperate the ones meant for battle and the ones meant for show, though just about any of them can kill with the right hands.

---

Before Grey followed Lucilia, he looked across the room to where his own armor was kept. However, before he could ask about it, he remembered that while it had been filed off it still obviously bore the Djarkel emblem, so it was probably a bad idea to wear it. He did ever, pick up his axe and shield.

As he followed, he felt himself dumbfounded at the veritable vault of gear she had shown him. Hell, Zaad had tricked Grey into locking himself in that very closet at least twice. And while her offer was, er, tempting, he knew it was probably for the best that he do it himself. He had a gift for fitting armor in just the right way for maximum protection.

He didn't say a word, instead gazing in awe at the sheer variety of it all. However, one suit caught his eye. It was just simple steel in construction, but on closer inspection it was amazing to someone like him. The way the parts fit together, the shape, the purity of the alloy, this armor could have only bin forged by a master. He couldn't imagine how long it would take someone to put something like this together. "I'd like to borrow this set..." he said.

---

After Lucilia and Grey fiddled around with his new suit of armor, she clapsed her hands together at the sight. "My own shining knight. I never thought I'd see the day." Grey was donned in a solid but light steel armor, tested to be able to handle most all mortal weapons. It had more emphasis against the sword and daggers, as even the joints were guarded with thick chain mesh. The last finishing touch she added was a tabard that she wanted Grey to wear over his armor, to show that he was with her; on it was her emblem, for all to see. "Perfect. Now then, is there any last questions before we head off to the feast?"

---

Grey very nearly blushed a bit at Lucilia's comment. A knight, as if he had earned that honor. Surprisingly, the armor was quite light. Well, not light per se but certainly light in comparison to an average suit. Afterwards, she handed him a tabard with her emblem on it. Of all the things he thought he might ever wear on his armor, a rose was definitely not very high. Not that he had a problem with it, mind. In any event he donned it, and pulled at a few of the leather fasteners that kept this armor together. He took a moment to pound his fist on his chest as he carefully listened. He seemed satisfied with the sound of it. "No question, M'lady." He said. Not surprising, questions were rarely asked whenever he was concerned. though maybe it was just because he was built that way.

---

"Then let's not waste a moment!" Lucilia and Grey left the armory and sealed the wall behind them. Grey stood next to the teacher as the two headed towards the feast. Many eyes were laid on Lucilia as she walked on by, but a few looked at Grey as well. Many wondered who the mysterious knight was and what his relation to the teacher is, whispers and rumors became to spread. But Lucilia cared little about the idle chatter. When they arrived at the feast Lucilia told Grey to find a spot and get comfortable. "Relax but stay vigilant. Try not to drink too much, but remember to be social as well. Now then, I have to get to my seat, keep an eye out for trouble please."

Annabeth Gulch

Though the feast between the diplomats of Eania and Djarkel was held in the dinning hall, there was also much festivities outside as well. Outside tents were set up by the many visiting merchants and travelers, hawking their wares and services. There was even some entertainment in the form of carnival games and theatrics. Annabeth was dressed in her best formal attire, an expensive dress with garment featuring finely embroidered silk panels and elegant stitching in gold and silver thread. It wasn't as grand or sensual as some dresses were, but it was pretty to look at and allowed Annabeth to hide a dagger on her person. After all that's happened, she may need it. Of course, it's mostly for herself... Since a short while ago, she had an argument with Cynn. Annabeth was starting to feel guilty for lashing out at her, but she still felt that Cynn was being way to personal with her. Sure Annabeth did save her, but she just wasn't ready to tell Cynn. Trying to forget about it, she went around the college and looked at their various attractions.

The first place Annabeth went to was a sort of prize game. There was a large glass panel with various prizes on the other side, tied to a string. There were many strings draped over the top of the glass, the goal was to pick out a string and see if you'll get a prize. A few people pulled their strings but got nothing, but some pulled their strings an had some nice little gifts. Mostly it was petty things like wooden carvings, dolls, the occasional coin. It was very gimicky, but Annabeth was willing to spend a few coins to try. She only did it three times, and only won one prize, an apple. "Well, at least it's something."

Annabeth continued looking around. There were test of strength games, theater shows, drinking contests, even some sort of dueling circle. She questioned if the last one was legal, but it was in plain view of the guards and no one interfered. Granted, both the duelist were wearing heavy padded armor and only fighting each other with lengths of wood, so maybe it wasn't as dangerous as she thought. She was tempted to join the duel herself, but ultimately refrained from it. It seemed too silly for her. She just kept looking around, seeing if she'd find any of her friends or Cynn.

Lucilia Riovas

Through the front gates of the college, a new group of visitors arrived. There were six individuals, all of whom were Esyire. Five of the men and women were obviously soldiers, all wearing a similar style of thick, medium weight leather armor, with varying types of weapons. At the head of the group was an Esyire female obscured in a black hooded cloak which extended down to her ankles. Apart from her wings, most of her features were obscured by her cloak, except for a scar on the right side of her muzzle that interrupted the solid black color of her scales.
She guided the group into the courtyard. Even with most of her hidden under her cloak, any onlooker could tell she was moving with purpose. She stopped in front of a guard in the courtyard and questioned him for a time while her guards looked on somewhat impatiently. Eventually, after she told him who she was, he divulged the information she requested. She ordered her guards to remain in the courtyard, as they were not allowed to accompany her, then followed the directions the guard provided to lead her to the college's dining hall. There was some sort of feast going on, but it was irrelevant to her, as she had only a single goal in mind. The moment she entered the room, her eyes darted around across the growing crowd, searching for the one to which she had been directed. At the front of the hall, there was a table which was set apart from the rest, so she naturally assumed that would be where anyone important would be located. From one end of the table to the other, she examined each person to see if they matched the description of the person she had been told to find. Finally, she spotted her, the pale-skinned human woman who the guard had described.

As she approached the human, she lowered her hood, revealing the face of a near middle-aged Esyire whose life was written in her features. Her black scales lacked the vibrance they likely had in her youth. She bore a few scars, along with small imperfections in her scale patterns brought on by old wounds. One of the horns on the right side of her head, near the back was broken entirely in half and had been worn down to appear smooth.

"Are you Lucillia Riovas?" She asked simply and directly.

After arriving to the feast, Lucilia had taken her seat by the staff's table. But they had little chance to speak to themselves, as each teacher was caught into various conversation. Lucilia herself had just finished speaking to some ranchers over in Ghannos. Their exports would keep the college fed for a good while, and now Lucilia could reliably discontinue the service of some others to save cost. Of course now she needed to one day speak to them about canceling their service, but their contract was nearing and end anyways. Most of them anyways. Lucilia had just enough time to take a bite of one of the serving samplers and a drink of her Marrow Drought when a new guest arrived. A fairly shady Esyire with dark scales, not unlike their own Ssarak. From her dress Lucilia guessed she was from Djarkel, but she did not recall seeing her at the college in recent days. The Esyire was also fairly blunt and straightforward, telling Lucilia that this was either a business proposition or a blackmail attempt. Humoring the stranger, Lucilia laced her fingers over one another and looked at the guest.

"That I am. May I ask whom is asking?"

"My name is Dirssi Xhotharanil, and I am here to warn you of a criminal who I have reason to believe is attending this college. I am a representative of Clan Xhoth and have been sent to apprehend this fugitive for his crimes against my people. His name is Ssarak Dyreackthanose. Do you know of him?" Dirssi explained, wasting no time in getting to her point.

Well, this has certainly taken a drastic turn. Lucilia thought this Dirssi was just another uptight representative of some small organization in Djarkel. Instead she seemed to be part of a larger factions, and makes accusations against one of their students. Lucilia's smile quickly faded as she straiten up. "That is a serious claim, madam Dirssi. While I can look into our records to see if we have this Ssarak, I hope that you have some evidence of his crimes if he indeed a student of the college." Actually Lucilia was quite aware of some of Ssarak's past, including the general gist of why he left, which would explain why someone of Clan Xhoth was here. Lucilia did not know all the details, but she imagined that either this was a personal vendetta, or things were much worse than Lucilia knew.

Dirssi gave a respectful nod. "Of course. I would not expect you to simply release someone into my custody without any form of proof. I have my orders, signed with the seal of clans Xhoth and Dyre. This Ssarak went against the laws of both of our clans, so both of us agree he needs to be judged." Dirssi reached into a pouch under her cloak and produced an official-looking scroll made not from paper, as was common in human lands, but from the hide of a creature native to the Scorched lands. "Here. You may examine it now, or wait until you are in a more...appropriate setting. It details the crimes for which he is wanted, though I can give a more detailed explanation if you wish. I understand this may take time. All I ask is that, if Ssarak is a student here, that he not be allowed to leave the college. It was difficult to track him here, and I fear I may not be so fortunate again should he escape." Dirssi's tone was respectful and professional. It was clear that she had not expected her quarry to be given to her immediately, as she gave each response with no hesitation.

"Yes... Thank you. I'll be sure to look at these as soon as possible. Now than, is there anything else that you need?" Lucilia took the documents, looking them over briefly, before tucking them into a pocket on her scarf. She could deal with contracts and business deals, but this was a little bit over her head. She'd have to talk to Ssarak and Khan about it. No doubt Satori would be involved as well, seeing that he's one of her students. And than any friends that Ssarak has. And than Lucilia would have to arrange a meeting or some sort of correspondence with Clan Xhoth and Dyre for verification. And everything could go wrong. But that was just more on her plate, more for Lucilia to deal with.

"Since it seems I will be here for a while, I would be appreciative if you could arrange for quarters for myself and my guards. There are six of us in total, all Esyire. They are currently awaiting my return in the courtyard. Beyond that, if you find Ssarak among your students, I would recommend arranging a meeting between all of us, the fugitive included. He may confess to his crimes, if pressed. " Dirssi responded. Again, she seemed to have expected Lucillia's response since she gave no argument to the delay in apprehending Ssarak. As she was essentially on a diplomatic mission from the Scorched Lands, it was sensible that she would be well-versed in dealing with bureaucracy. Despite the serious nature of her business in the college, her tone was friendly, almost pleasant.

"Of course. I'll be sure to have it arranged as soon as possible. But I must ask you that you refrain from investigating our students until we have verified that we have found this Ssarak of yours. As you may know we have many Esyire among our students and staff, so please allow us to find Ssarak for you." Lucilia was quickly thinking of ways to stall for time. She had to get to the bottom of this herself. She didn't know what crimes Ssarak has committed in the past, but now that he was part of the college it was indeed her business to know all the details and judge for herself. "Now than, please enjoy the rest of the feast, madam Dirssi. As soon as it is over I will be sure to look into this matter with haste."

Dirssi nodded. "Thank you. Myself and my guards will remain remain in our quarters, as soon as you provide them. I hope for a quick resolution to this issue. Now, I will leave you to your duties." She said, giving a slight, respectful bow before turning to walk away. The moment she was faced away from Lucilia, her expression showed a hint of annoyance, but it quickly subsided. She pulled her hood back up over her head. then found a secluded corner of the dining hall to stand in, clearly having no interest in the feast. For the moment, she was simply waiting for the festivities to conclude so Lucillia could show her to her quarters.

Tyrael Marchrosias

And so came the dreaded moment. Tyrael entered the dinning hall, his appearance largely unchanged. He never bothered to decorate his body with clothing since he had nothing to hide, with the closet thing to accessories being spikes or runes. And the spikes he had to remove in the chance that he accidentally impales someone on them. The runes stayed, if only because of how difficult it was to get the metal engravings out of his flesh. He had hoped that his appearance and general demeanor would have dissuaded anyone from speaking to him, but once he began to walk through the doors he was swarmed by many people trying to vine for his favor. He ignored them and just waded through the crowd towards the staff's table. It was more open there, with only a few people talking to the teachers. Tyrael took his seat next to Khan. He knew it was his because a mug of his drink sat in front of the plate; Orcish Moss Wine.

The only remnant of his past that continues to have importance now. Only a rare few would drink pure Orcish Moss Wine, but back in Tyrael's day it was more common than water. Made from a unique moss that grows from orc blood, one could harvest the moss and squeeze the juice out from it and make a powerful poison. Or for those who would water it down, a not-as-lethal but still strong alcohol. Some parts of the Oelik Hold would coat their weapons with the stuff to ensure their foes die, some would even use Orcish Moss Wine as a means of a slow and agonizing execution. But for Tyrael it was just a drink, and it almost sadden him when he discovered most orcs nowadays couldn't stomach the stuff. They've grown soft, he thought.

Sipping his drink and taking a few bites of the bread placed before him, he heard Khan say something under his breath. "None of us grows younger, Headmaster." He just wanted to quip something to try to alleviate Khan's stress. He served as a perfect example for why Tyrael did not want to bother with politics, or people in general. If it was the Inferno all matters would have been resolved on how many times you could kill the opposing party until the pain of death gets too much. He actually had fantasies of amassing the college's powers together and taking over the world, but he kept these fancies to himself. He knew how unrealistic they were, but he also knew of what power the College had. That they all had. Nothing would be impossible if they simply came into agreement into do it. "If only we could have both these nations under our banner."

Cynn Ellime

She never really liked feasts.

Cynn had heard about the planned feast very soon after she left the infirmary, when she headed to the dining hall to grab something to eat. She'd overheard the workers in the kitchen planning out what they'd need to do for the feast later that day, and figured it was a good thing, then, that she was eating now, so she could avoid all the loud voices and awkward encounters that would ensue should she actually attend the thing.

And, yet, here she was a few hours later, alone in her room, hungry. The feast had started two hours ago, and she had been in the room for three, reading, transcribing, fiddling with her machines, et cetera. The white-haired elf did not wish to leave her room, as she dreaded running into someone who was saying something that wasn't correct; or, worse yet, Annabeth.

What had she done so wrong? It was a normal question to ask, wasn't it? All she wanted to know was if the human girl had any siblings and if her parents were any nicer than Cynn's own, and suddenly she was the bad one! Annabeth had totally overreacted, and just stormed out! What right did she think she had to treat the forest elf so terribly? Everyone had demons, after all.

Especially Khan, Cynn thought to herself. She chuckled at her joke, as much as it didn't really fit the analogy. Soon enough, however, her anger returned, and she suddenly remembered something she'd been told by a friend a long while ago. "Whenever you get pissed off at something," Cynn said under her breath, as if to remind herself of her revelation. "Stab something."

Walking over to her bed and kneeling down, she reached under the bed frame, producing a long box that wasn't very wide. Opening the two latches on the front, she flipped the lid up and took out her rapier. Turning to the wall, she quickly went to work, her months without practice being apparent. Cynn found her inadequacy frustrating, as she'd not been this bad with a sword since a few months after first picking one up.

The elf threw her sword down, with a growl of anger. Apparently, stabbing something hadn't gone too well in that regard. Suddenly, she was feeling very warm; hot, even. She pulled off her shirt and threw it across the room. Proceeding to do the same with her trousers, she plopped down onto the floor, limbs bent in whichever way they decided to fall. In just her undergarments, she was able to more effectively feel the coolness of the breeze from the open windows, and she very quickly started to calm down and retreat into her rational state of mind.

That was when she noticed something. Cynn had never opened the windows. Tilting her head back, she saw that, in fact, they weren't open. She had just enough time to tilt her head back up to look at the door when she heard a familiar voice at the door and saw the doorknob start to twist.

Locas Jule

It had taken Locas a good while longer to be released from the infirmary, and the feast was well under way when he finally left it's stone walls. His wounds still ached, but they weren't as painful as when he'd gotten into that little spat with Alaira. The fact that his nose wasn't disfigured and his shoulder still worked made Locas think that a Vitamancer had gotten their hands on him, but he couldn't be certain. He had no clue what kind of medicine that woman had shot him full of.

Now, Locas had one mission in mind. He was going to find Alaira at the feast and talk with her, in the most neutral and normal way he knew how. As he walked down the hallway that lead to the dining room, however, he couldn't think of any way to do that. Entering the dining hall, he scanned the room for the elf in question, figuring he would figure it out as he went along.

It wasn't hard to find her. She sat mostly alone at a long table, with several seats between her and the next person at the table. He supposed that she wasn't the most approachable of people, but he'd been wrong about her a lot today. Maybe she had just politely asked everyone to give her some space to eat. As he was walking towards the front of the room to get food, still focused on her, he ran straight into another girl.

They both fell to the ground, which was quite surprising, as, from his instinctual head-raise, Locas quickly gathered that she was very physically apt. She wasn't extremely muscular, but he could tell this girl was not one who would fall so easily. It was possible that the human man wasn't paying attention to his speed, and had begun to speed up to the point where his impact might have caught her off guard. This was a worrying thought. Had he been so entranced in his goal to talk to Alaira that he'd become dangerous? If so, that would be the second time today that he'd done something stupid...

Sitting up all the way, he recognized the girl. Her long red hair, blue eyes, and pale skin took a moment to place, but, after around five seconds, he got it. This was the girl who had saved him from that man-bear thing. Luckily, it wasn't too embarrassing, as there were so many people in the room that no one really noticed, but he did notice that her skirt hadn't really...survived the fall. He jerked his gaze away from the region the moment he realized it, and willed a small gust to push the cloth back into a less compromising position. Standing, he offered her a hand, smiling kindly.

"I'm terribly sorry about that," he said, placing his other hand on the back of his head in a show of mild embarrassment. "I wasn't really watching my step. Say, aren't you the woman who saved me earlier?" She looked confused, so he lifted his shirt to show the gauze wrapped around his midsection. That seemed to clear it up. "Thanks for that, Miss...?"

"No. It's fine. Just a personal matter... Nothing I can't handle. But thank you for your concern. I just need to be alone and prepare for certain things." Meirin wasn't sure what this Haklo wanted from her. Perhaps he was just being friendly, not something she can fault someone for, but she didn't need to be consoled like a victim of a tragedy. No, she just needed to get her mind off recent events. The feast was coming up so she could prepare for that, but for now she would go to her room and meditate.

---Sometime later---

Meirin wondered around the dinning hall. She had spent the last few hours either meditating, going through some of her Weaving forms, or doing laundry. She's largely forgotten about what happened those few hours ago, since it seemed like everything resolved itself. Grey was last seen in the care of the Vitamancers, so he didn't need to be worried about. There wasn't any more attacks or disturbances, so she didn't need to spring into action. And she hasn't heard a peep from Zaad, so she was sure he wasn't causing any trouble. Yes, it was a peaceful night, tensions aside. Meirin was absent-mildly trying to listen into to all the conversations around her when someone crashed into her. She stumbled but managed to stay relatively up. "Oh, sorry." She turned to see the person she ran into, and to her surprise it wasn't a complete stranger. Taking his hand she got to her feet and recognized the person as the man who was attacked by a bear earlier today. Seemed like he recovered from the attack and was lucid enough to remember her face.

"It was nothing that no one else wouldn't have done. I was simply the closes one. My name is Meirin Kurenai. I don't think I ever got your name."

Locas Jule

Ah, he had a name now. Locas always hated not knowing someone's name, so he was already liking this girl well enough. He had a few other questions he needed to ask her, of course, but he felt that standing in the middle of the dining hall wasn't the best place to do that.

"Well, hello there, Miss Meirin. It's lovely to meet you," he said, with a charming charisma that portrayed that he was friendly. He thought he saw the girl blush a bit, but he wasn't sure. "My name is Locas Jule. Might I suggest that we find a table to sit at and converse with each other? Perhaps that one over there?" He pointed to a mostly empty table behind Meirin, smiling. She nodded in consent, and as they started off, Locas took one more look back at where Alaira was sitting. Was it right to just leave her there, alone, on such a festive occasion? He knew she could take care of herself, but he still felt bad about it. It was probably just her resemblance to Avi, and that realization made him feel rather silly about it.

Without further consideration, the human man turned to follow Meirin. As the two sat down, Locas noticed his neutral face had returned, and he quickly changed back to his friendly demeanor. He was trying to make a friend here, after all. He can't allow himself to be so cold and calculating. He smiled at the girl, and placed his arms on the table, knitting his fingers together and using them to prop up his head beneath his chin.

"So, Meirin Kurenai," he started, his charismatic and charming tone reappearing in his voice. "What do you bleed?" He liked this phrase better than others used to inquire about a Blood, because it sounded more artsy and less like an inquiry on a dating profile (he had no clue what a dating profile was, of course, but he felt like this was better than anything that would ever be on one).

Locas searched the girl's eyes, then her face, then her entire upper body as a whole. She seemed slightly uncomfortable, but that might have been for any number of reasons. Still, it meant he'd have to try to put her at ease and cheer her up a bit, so they could hold a conversation. On a different note, he did quite like certain...other aspects of this girl. Her eyes were piercing, and full of emotion; so much so, in fact, that Locas couldn't make out which emotion was which. Her hair was bright, but very beautiful. He decided that he shouldn't mention it, though, as people with noticable traits usually have them pointed out a lot, and that probably got annoying. Didn't want to make her think he felt obligated to talk to her. And then, of course there were her other assets, which were nice enough, but the man didn't usually put too much weight on them. Attractiveness for Locas was much more based on personality than looks.

Having assessed all of this, and doing a pretty damn good job of concealing his information taking, he adjusted slightly in his seat, waiting for a response.

Khan

Despite being lost and withdrawn inside his drained mind, Khan’s ears still picked up the approach of heavy footsteps. Steady and determined, a pace he knew who it belonged to: Tyrael. His eyes shifted open and darted to the corner as he spotted the Fallen Orc’s white, armor like mass take his seat beside him. Khan’s body relaxed to see a familiar, non-diplomatic figure settle beside him, and released the building worry which had cropped up within his attention. He was rather sure his patient might’ve happened if another approached him, namely one aimed to gain favor. Deep inside, Khan knew it was an exaggerated judgment, but an accurate one to what he felt.

He took a deep breath to press down the tension running up and down him. That’s when Tyrael commented about none of them growing younger and the fact things would’ve been easier if both Djarkel and Eania were allied under banner, the College’s. However, Khan knew this wasn’t possible diplomatically and had a slightly lingering belief so did Tyrael to some extent. His mind still weighed down in his weakness, he decided to give the Fallen Orc his full attention. Even if his heart wasn’t feeling capable of taking on the task. His forearms rested up the table’s firm surface and slowly pushed him upright, his back straightened against the chair’s support when he spoke. His voice started off lighthearted yet took a diplomatic and reasonable tone after the first comment.

“The funny part, I’m still in my prime but I feel as old as you, Uicle or… even Lucilia!” Khan said, hastily added on the vampire in his slight forgetfulness. Sometimes he had to remind himself from time to time, she was indeed older then she looked. During his mental reminder, his eyes glimpsed to the area behind Tyrael for a fleeting moment causing an odd sensation to sweep over him. The odd colored eyes had spied at the official’s table for any aggressions and a rush of awareness filled him, his eyes slightly widened while his jawline tightened for a moment. It only took seconds to realize the cause of alarm upon spotting the empty chair. His brows knotted into confusion, the vacancy bothered him slightly, but he instead focused on the conversation rather than jump to hasty conclusions. Last thing Khan needed to do was to have his wild imaginations and paranoia cause unneeded actions.

He forced himself to calm down, his heart still thumping at a higher rate, before he continued to keep “The only error in your comment, Tyrael, is our influence and current power is exactly what they fear the most. Instead of a war between Eania and Djarkel, it would become a three way one adding to the conflict tearing Tiien apart. What is the point in fighting in a war which would leave the victor’s spoilers in ruin when it is won? The College might manage to survive, but there would be nothing left when it was all said and done. That is the nature of war, mainly when replied by with brute force.”

Khan had relayed his understanding both bluntly, but in the most subtle way possible, a manner which allowed no ignorance on its meaning. Both Tryael and Khan knew Djarkel’s as well as Eania’s reply to such measures of being united under banner. It was a strain Khan wasn’t so sure he wanted to test the College’s power or strength against such odds, not when there was already enough crumbling Tiien apart. His hand raised slowly to grasp the goblet’s narrow neck, his fingers cradled the underside gently. He toyed with the idea of finish what remained within his glass in only a swallow while another thing pestered his attention. Something else seemed off about the scene, his eyes returned to the scene and allowed his mind to gently wash through the list. In his thinking, Khan casually sparked a conversation about Tyrael’s return. He would likely gather the details about the demonomancer’s trip tomorrow and in more privacy, not wanted the officials slight sparks to be increased into violence by the winds of Tyrael’s small task. It won’t have gone over very well and Khan knew it.

“On to another topic. I assume you’ve found a pleasant surprise when you arrived back?” The headmaster asked, his voice cautioned against revealing too much about the incidents in Tyrael’s absence. Mainly what the Fallen Orc would’ve done upon discovery of Xyden’s attempts to end Mar’s life, so it was ideal to keep it within milder ranges until Xyden was banished.

It was then it clicked who else was missing: Lidda. Not once had he seen the Vitamancer’s odd figure, a new shape, monster or human, within the small crowds inside the Dining Hall. Again the confusion came knocking to his mind until the realization, the recall of Eania’s official gone, clicked into place like a flint spark to kindling. He felt rather the fool for not putting the pieces together earlier as he pushed the worry from his mind, one mystery solved though he did slightly pity Lidda’s currently position. He most certainly didn’t look to be the fly upon that stone wall during the father and daughter chat.

Tyrael Marchrosias

Tyrael remained quiet as he let Khan speak his thoughts. He was certain that's all Khan wanted to do today, but with these stuffy representatives of both Eania, Djarkel, and just about every other people of importance, the truth often has to be held back. Tyrael did notice Khan looking around, which prompt Tyrael to look around himself. He didn't note anything out of the ordinary aside from a few missing teachers, but they didn't really concern him. They could take care of themselves, he figured, and know better than to be missing out during this feast. As much as he'd like to simply do that himself. Figuring that he did not need to worry himself, Tyrael redirected his attention back to Khan, who was speaking about his comment about uniting Eania and Djarkel under their banner.

It was just musing on his part, as Khan explained why it would never work. "One can dream. Dream of things that could be." Tyrael smiled a little at the thought. He didn't like having to play politics and try to maintain "Equal ground" when all he wanted was anything he'd like. The idea that the college having the power of Eania and Djarkel at their beck and call was tempting. He could use that power to reform his homelands of the orc holds, give them a new direction instead of whatever it was they were doing now. He could create a system to reform his demons and take over the Inferno as it's one true overlord, indeed, if they had both Eania and Djarkel at their command, they could very well face the gods. But Tyrael didn't mention this. It was all imaginative fantasy. Until there was some serious ground work laid before them, it will remain a fantasy.

Tyrael snapped out of his imagination when Khan asked him about the "pleasant surprise". Tyrael was fortunately unaware of Xyden's actions, and thought the headmaster was referring to Mar's birth. "Pleasant? Yes... Yes, it was pleasant. I still feel a certain animosity between me and Mar, but... I hope that somehow, I could try to rekindle our friendship, somehow. Perhaps through her child. I could teach her the ways of the Ravine while Mar is occupied. If she has mage blood, perhaps I could even find time to get her a private tutor." Tyrael's smile widen a little, but it also had a touch of sadness. he wanted to coddle and protect Lyn now, because he does not know what happened to his daughter. His face grew dark as he thought about it. Was he about to replace his daughter with Lyn so quickly? Shouldn't he try to find her, to make sure she is safe? The demon began to worry now about what had become of his child. His mind ebbed back and forth between her and Lyn; what he would do if anything came to harm either of them. He wouldn't even be creative; he would simply kill them, and anything else the scum cherished. Perhaps that was disproportionate, but that's what was going through Tyrael's mind.

He was drawn out of his thoughts however when his mug of Moss Wine shattered in his hand. He had let his fury taken over his mind just long enough to remind him where he was. The slight burning sensation on his hands told him that he made a bit of a mess. "Damn. I... I let my mind wonder for a moment. I apologize for that, allow me to clean this up." Tyrael reached over to one of the wash clothes on the table and used it to wipe up the mess. A servant came by and offered to take the rag and wash Tyrael's hand, though he simply told them to take the rag away. He created a small portal into the Inferno and such his hand through it, allowing the heat death of the current plane to dry his hand. "Did you know that Naga's mature much faster than most mortals? Even faster than orcs, who reach mental and physical maturity in ten to thirteen years. I imagine that before the end of the cold season, Mar's child would already begin walking and speaking."

Lian

'So, this is it, huh?' The red furred Sannid thought as he watched the brightly lit stalls in the courtyard. Some were pink, others blue. Some were round while other were squared, but all of them were small, 'It is... Pretty different, I won't lie to myself. The scent is strange, too. Why doesn't this place smell like sweat? I thought this was supposed to be a celebration.' Yet he ignored his confusion and disappointment and washed them away with a deep sigh and a forced smile accompanied by a quick swishing motion of his tail.

He knew he was being watched, too. Certainly a Sannid was a strange sight in these parts, not to mention the fact that he was standing still and merely watching the stalls. When a she-elf looked his way with a raised eyebrow, he merely smiled back and waved. He didn't wait for a response though, as he looked away and instantly walked towards the nearest '2 copper for a kiss' stall.

It was a foreign concept for sure, but he didn't mind. Fishing inside his wide pockets for some spare change, he pulled out four small copper coins and dropped them onto the pink stall's counter. He then looked at the woman in front of him, studying her face for a moment before raising an eyebrow himself and showing a subtle smirk.

"What do I get for four copper, then?" Lian asked, sliding the four coins towards the tall, slender woman, who just huffed in humour and smirked back, grabbing his light chest plate by the collar and pulling him in. She wasted no time at all and planted a passionate kiss on his thin lips. He eased into the kiss just as quickly as it had come. Lian, whose tail had suddenly stiffened in excitement, had his little bubble of excitation busted when the woman pulled away, elegantly wiping a thin strand of saliva from her lips as she looked into his eyes.

"I-" Lian had begun to speak, but the woman had put a finger on top of his lips to silence him, a mischievous smile on her face when she started to whisper soft words.

"Get outta here," She said, "a queue's formed. Don't want to keep me from others, do you..?"

"As a matter of fact..."

"Okay thank you get away," A short and plump man had suddenly pushed him out of the line, eyeing him jealously until he huffed proudly and stuck his head up into the air, walking into the stall besides the woman, kissing her hand as he did so.

'Damn boyfriends...'Lian thought, growling just a tiny bit.

Grey Onyx

Grey had simply nodded at Lucilia's instructions, but he doubted he could follow the 'social' directive. You see, of all the lessons Grey had learned from his career, one stood out more than any other; be intimidating. You see, a sufficiently scary bodyguard just might deter would-be assailants from your target, as a big hulking wall of meat that looks like he can crush plate-armor in his teeth sends a message, a message that they might get brutally killed. Was it foolproof? no, it wasn't, but Grey understood and respected the value of fear, espescially if it helped him prevent bloodshed. Now, he usually relied on his less then welcoming face for said intimidation factor, but today he chose a different tactic, as his new temporary armor came with a closed helm. Tonight he was a massive steel juggernaut, forever vigilant. He did not speak, barely moved, and was always watching. He radiated a sort of cold focus, not unlike the machines of the ancient world. He kept his distance from Lucilia, but kept her in sight. While he was more or less her protector right now, he felt if he was too close he might frighten the dignitaries.

He watched and listened as she talked with a group of Eysire. Most seemed to be warriors of a sort, but Grey thought they kind of reminded him of a hit squad. The leader was a woman, cloaked. The only thing he discerned of her was the black scales. As he listened to them, he was somewhat alarmed. They were after Ssarak, a student here. They said he was some sort of fugitive, and while he was of course unsure, of the few times he had met the man out in the halls, he didn't seem like the criminal type. Still, these looked to be the types that my try to circumvent the typical justice process, so he decided a warning was in order.

Grey reached into his belt pouch, and pulled out a small stone inscribed with various runes. This was a sending rune issued to him by the guard. It would allow him to (In an emergency, as it's use was limited) send a message to whatever captain was on duty at the time. The message would be heard inside the receiver's mind, but unfortunately communication was one way. He gently ran his finger along the patter on it, and it glowed a soft purple. Opening his mask a bit, he spoke softly into it, so none could eavesdrop. "Command, this is Guardsman Onyx. I have reason to believe a group of people might make an attempt on a student's life. They are a small group of Eysire, several goons in leather armor, all male. Probable leader is a female with black scales in a heavy cloak. their potential target is an eysire student by the name of Ssarak. I don't recommend action as I have no proof. I advise subtle vigilance. Message repeats," He spoke, repeating the message in it's entirety before palming the stone and resuming his watch. He would keep an eye on them himself, but unfortunately he had other priorities at the moment. Still, a group of guards would at least keep an eye on them to avoid any unnecessary funny business.

Khan

At Tryael’s last statement, all Khan could do was shake his head and give an understanding expression. His eyes seemed to soften as if he agreed, mostly the fact it would’ve made things easier because they would’ve been following the same goals. The bad part was Tiien wasn’t like that, the world held her own sway and influence which made it difficult to overlook. Khan’s mind turned once more to the goblet. His eyes shifted to look at the deep, golden liquid within before he pulled it to his muzzle and drained the last of it. Effortlessly he reached for the stone pitcher and pulled it closer, the bottom skimmed the table’s surface until it rested in easy reach. He let the sound of Ember fill his ears while it was poured into the goblet where it stopped just a few centimeters from the top. With a gentle thump, he set it down but couldn’t add anything else to what Tyrael had commented about Djarkel and Eania, his fingers twisted the goblet neck between his forefinger and thumb while debated on getting something stronger next time.

His attention flickered when Tyrael mention his conversation with Mar. Naturally the Headmaster wasn’t surprised hard feelings lingered, his mind drifted back to the scene of her trial and the fact Tyrael had pleaded in her behalf, even so far as to reveal something he hadn’t considered. That Mar had no home to get back to. Despite her impressive control in the moment, Khan had noted the dark glare the Naga gave Tyrael which made the Esyire wonder if a blood bath was about happen back then. Luckily nothing happened though Khan was sure both would’ve ended up killing each other if there had.

Khan shuddered at the thought, pulled away to gain some control as he notes the softening when mention of Lyn came up. At first confusion spilled over his expression at the name. Lyn…it didn’t take long to click that was what Mar had named the infant, his brows eased from his frustrated scowl during his focus. For a bit Khan was determining how to convey his thoughts to Tyrael with advice he hoped would’ve helped until his attention snapped to the mug shattering within the Fallen Orc’s grip. Bit of stoneware came flying across the table, some even had hit Khan who a split second earlier pulled up his hand to shield his face any chunks. His eyes centered upon the demonomancer, filled with concern and worry while Tyrael sought to clean up his mess then popped open a portal to dry his hand. The hot, sulfuric breath from the Inferno swept into Khan’s face and made a slight queasiness fill his being.

How long had it been? His mind questioned himself when the memory wanted to pour into his head from that wretched day, that day he had nearly died. His fingers dug into his chair’s resting arm enough that the wood seemed to groan at his pressure. His throat felt dry and thick, unable to swallow while the Inferno’s stank filled his sense of smell. This wasn’t that day… Khan’s voice had to remind himself once more and his ridged form relaxed enough to heard Tyrael’s last sentence on the Naga. He shook his head free of unpleasant thoughts before he willed himself to answer.

His chest inhaled, the air felt like needles within his lungs, while he answered truthfully. “To be honest, Mar is the first Naga I encountered and I little about the species other than rumors. Deep in the Yarsomere desert is where they live and are an isolated race, save for certain traders. They hunt in the Ravine openings and rarely involve themselves within human or outside affairs. Most traders who deal with them describe them as cold and uncaring, even arrogant. That’s all. I don’t even we’re going to be able to provide the best care for Mar’s young one, not to mention Lyn is half human.”

Lidda

Lidda, on the other hand, wasn’t having the best of days. The longer it carried on, the more she wished it would’ve ended as she walked in the presence of her father through the crowded courtyard. Bodies shuffled through the many booths and games, each vendor’s shout and colorful sight tried to claim the Vitamancy teacher’s eyes with no success. Mainly since her father didn’t allow her attention to be wandering and ignoring him. It was pet peeve which bothered him more than anything when it came to his child, one she had learned to live with. Currently the form she had was a Snow Elf with slightly odd ears but small enough to walk alongside her father easily. She could feel his sight run up and down her form, displeasure from the sensation and his face.

Part of her wanted to roll her eyes, yet she knew it would only make his lecture last longer. “Why did you bother coming? To lecture or try to see if I could sway the College towards Eania cause you know that’s not going to happen. I won’t do it.”

The older Snow Elf retained his firm and military look, his sword danced within its holder with each bounce from his hip. His voice held that familiar commanding tone in his reply. “I came because I’m your father, not for politics. You’ve been away far too long and neglected your duties within Eania since you came to this place. Even looking at you now, you’re not yourself but from what I gathered from the students many different forms. Why?”

Lidda knew this was going as her shoulders sank a bit. Her teeth gashed within her lips a bit, her tongue pressed against her cheek to think what to say. She never got a moment to even speak before her father abruptly halted in his tracks. His eyes glared deeply at her, a guilty feeling washed over her like when she was child and caused her to forget she wasn’t one anymore. There was an awkward paused between them. Her father seemed locked in his ways as much as she wanted to avoid the scenario to come, her own pace grinded shortly to a stop too. He fingers had started to tenderly rub her eyelids in anticipation for the stress to come.

When she didn’t reply immediately, he jumped to his own conclusions. “You’re ashamed of who you are, aren’t you? Of how you look-

His daughter cut him off abruptly, her voice slightly spiteful at his conclusion. “No, that’s not it. I’m not ashamed of you or mom so don't think like that. Please not today, I don't want to fight with you.”

“Then why, Lidda? Why do you hide your image behind this.” He asked, gesturing to her current form as if it was something disgusting.

“I’ll prove it!” Lidda snapped, her father always seemed able to get under her skin, as her body started to change. Only instead of activating it, she was shutting it down.

Her skin turned a stone grey and legs lengthened as she gained a few feet to reach an average human height of a Naerse woman. Lidda felt her feet become larger and propped upon her toes while her waist narrowed, her muscles shifted from the petite form into thick corded muscle which still held some feminine appeal. Her hair turned into white ribbon strands bundled up in a ponytail and two long braids that rested about her middle with bone like rings. When the change had slowed, Lidda stood in her original form.

“Better? I just think my form is too plain is all.” Lidda said, her voice had grunting tone to it though she wasn't furious. Her shoulders slacked as her desire to want to avoid the battle swept through her body, her arms dropped to her sides and shifted to walked away. “I don’t want to fight, not today. The College is tense enough without more.”

Naturally when Lidda moved, she came to face with Annabeth, who she narrowly avoided smacking into. Lidda’s body froze as her tusked mouth drew up into a smile. “Sorry Annabeth, I didn’t see you there.”

Ssarak Dyreackthanose and Jenna Fellrein (EliteCommander and Leon5431)

---

(Before timeskip)
Ssarak had been too distracted to pay close attention to what was going on around him. He had been keeping his distance, so he almost didn't notice when Mar, Althalus, and a few others left. He only snapped back into reality when he noticed that Annabeth had left. Given their conversation before, he found it strange that she had left without a word and wondered if he had accidentally done something to offend. He decided to see if he could find her, but unfortunately, he had only a vague idea of which direction she went. After a few minutes of wandering the halls aimlessly, he quickly realized be was becoming lost.

"Guess I have sometime to kill." Jenna thought as she unslung her bag and dropped it onto one of the many tables in the mess hall. She fumbled for a moment as she struggled pulling the first glove she wore off. "I can fire a bow with ease with you on, yet still after all this time I struggle with taking you bastards off." Jenna growled as she finally managed to pull the glove off. "Ha! Gotta ya!" She said as she threw the glove onto the table triumphantly. She chuckled at herself and removed the second glove, this time with ease.

"There." She said as she flexed and extended her fingers able to move entirely unrestricted now. "Nice and free, but cold..." She said before she opened her bag. In the bag was an assortment of things. Most of them being supplies they could use if something went wrong while they were hunting. It took her less then a moment to find her goal. It was a cloak, long and furred, its primary color was black but around the neck it had a thick brown fur which added to the provided warmth.

"Ahh here it is." She said as she placed the folded cloak onto the table. She looked up and looked about the mess hall, it was rather empty what with breakfast having already been served yet a few people populated the halls. She shrugged and looked back to the task at hand as she began removing the thick winter hunting clothes she wore a sight likely seeming odd and indecent to those watching. She removed the top revealing the undershirt she was wearing and threw it down onto the table. Her undershirt was a white long sleeve shirt. She took a moment to straighten her shirt before taking of the lower half of the winter hunting gear.

This took a moment before she slipped out of them and laid the clothes on the table. For pants she was wearing a pair of tight black linen pants. She fixed her pants which had moved to an odd, uncomfortable angle when she removed the hunting clothes. She looked back to the cloak before remembering something. She looked through her pack for a moment before giving up her search, "Damnit, I thought I had forgotten something. Ugh whatever I'll just go back to my room and get it later. Maybe change into some new clothes while I am at it." She said adding the last part quietly to herself.

She grabbed the cloak and pulled it over her, immediately feeling the pleasing warmth of the cloak. "Much better." She commented happily, content to just enjoy the warmth of her cloak

After a while of walking, Ssarak ended up in hallways he was familiar with. He realized that the dining hall was nearby, and while he had not originally intended to go there, he figured he could use a good meal, and perhaps a drink or two. He had eaten not too long ago with Annabeth, but his appetite did tend to be voracious. Stepping inside, he saw that there were not too many others inside, which was to be expected between meals. He was not too particular with his food and simply selected the first few things he saw, though when it came to his drink, he made sure to pick some strong ale. Taking the nearest seat to him, he began his meal in silence.

Eventually Jenna forced herself to reach her hand out from under the cloak and began packing away all the clothes she had placed on the table. By the end her pack was rather full.

Once she finished her eyes lifted back up as she noticed someone new in the room. It was the Esyire, Ssarak. She had seen him and even spoken to him on some occasions when her, Deven and Leith were training in the gym. He was one of the other people that trained religiously in the morning. Outside of that she had barely spoken to the Esyire but, he was at least a familiar face.

Jenna grabbed her pack and slipped it over her shoulders before she began making her way to the Esyire. As she neared she spoke up, "Uh Ssarak right?" She said in her usual friendly tone. "Mind if I join you?" She asked gesturing to a seat across from Ssarak.

"Certainly." Ssarak responded. He recognized the Human as being one of the training partners of his roommate, Leith. They had spoke on occasion, as she was in the gymnasium almost as much as he was. He was not quite certain why she had elected to approach him, but he had learned to simply accept whatever Humans did as normal until he learned otherwise.

"Jenna, correct? What brings you to me?" He asked before taking a drink of his ale, curious as to what she wanted.

"Thank you." She said as she took her seat unslinging her pack before she did and leaning it on the chair. She listened as he asked as to why she approached, she hadn't really thought of a reason, "No reason in particular, I am just trying to pass some time. And seeing as you are practically the only familiar face in the mess hall right now, I thought it wouldn't hurt to approach. Besides I have heard good things about you from Leith so I thought you wouldn't mind." She said before falling silent for a moment. "I hope you do actually not mind." She added a little apologetically.

Ssarak shook his head. "Not at all, I was simply curious. I could benefit from a conversation myself. There is quite a lot on my mind which I would rather be forgotten. Take a seat. Have you eaten yet? I could go collect a meal for you, if you wish." Ssarak offered in an attempt to be polite, as he wanted to show that her apologetic expression was unnecessary.

Jenna smiled at him before responding. "No thank you, I'm not quite hungry yet. Me and Deven ate before we went hunting but...that was some hours ago. Maybe later I'll come back and eat." She said with a friendly smile. "But, is there anything I can help with? I would be happy to help you talk it out if you want." Jenna offered smiling softly.
She looked Ssarak over as he sat there, she felt like she was forgetting something, something significant about Esyire. What was it? Something about colors....what was it....come on Jenna...think. She thought to herself as she eyed the black scales on his hands. Then it clicked, Their scales! It's the color of their scales. It depicts their mageblood! She thought pridefully before the realization of Ssarak's magic dawned on her. That's right...he's a pshycomancer....wait....can he hear me? He's not reading my thought's right? She thought a little worriedly. Her eyes shot back up towards his face where she seemed a little flustered. Mind your thought Jenna mind your thoughts! Nothing incriminating, nothing important just stick to basic things. She thought warning herself.

"I thank you for the offer, but I do not believe I wish to speak about it. There are some times where discussing problems can aid in overcoming them, but in other cases, it is far more helpful to simply find something else on which to concentrate. I believe this is the latter." Ssarak responded, ironically too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice that Jenna had become unsettled. Instead, he continued on in a friendly tone with their conversation.

"Y-yeah." She said stammering for a second before regaining her composure. "I understand what you mean." She said before falling silent for a moment. She couldn't help but think about the times where she tried to make Deven feel better but only ended up making things worse by pressing the topic. Ah no Jenna stop, watch your thoughts! Nothing incriminating. Come on now this can't be that hard. Just don't think about that sort of stuff. She thought scolding herself. Look at him he hasn't even hinted at knowing your thoughts, he's devious. She thought to herself as she looked at him. Damnit Jenna stop don't piss him off he's twice your size! She thought once more scolding herself.

She cleard her throat before she spoke, "Well, if you should ever want to talk, I am here." She said with a friendly smile. Good that's good. She thought. "So, how goes your classes? Your a...pshycomancer right?" She said almost faltering as she said his magic type. Come on Jenna, don't fuck it up. You got this.

Ssarak nodded as he took a bite of his steak. "That is correct. I have been regularly attending private lessons with Satori for months now, so my psychomantic abilities have certainly improved. Actually, between my classes, lessons, and physical training, I have had time for little else. As you have no doubt seen, I have been training Annabeth in physical conditioning and how to properly wield a weapon. I was a warrior before coming here, so those skills are well-ingrained within me. I notice you and your friend Deven have been giving similar training my roommate. How has he been progressing? I have not had cause to ask him as of late." Since he was not, in fact, attempting to read Jenna's mind, he showed no reaction to her internal panic. Any discomfort he saw in her he assumed was simply because she regretted asking him about what was troubling him.

Jenna nodded along as he spoke, Is he even reading my thoughts? I am starting to get the feeling he isn't....but what if that's exactly what he wants me to think... Jenna thought, gaining no ground in her attempt at dispelling her uneasiness. As he finished Jenna nodded once more before speaking, "Yeah, I would imagine after training and private lessons that you are left with the bare minimum for free time." She said before she paused to think about her answer for how Leith was progressing in his training.

"He's doing good, he's learning. We had a few rough patches here and there but everyone has some difficulties at one point or another when they train start training." Jenna said shrugging slightly as she did.

"He is definitely right to want to learn how to fight at least a little. These are some, dangerous times...and it doesn't hurt to at least be able to hold your own should your life be threatened. You having been a warrior probably know what I am talking about." Jenna said trying to change the topic from his mageblood.

Ssarak nodded. "Indeed, danger is something I can never seem to escape, that anyone can escape, really. I believe everyone should endeavor to learn to defend one's self, but...well, I do not believe I can recommend the life of a warrior. There is a distinct difference between fighting for defense, and fighting as a trade. If there is anything I have learned through the years, it is that war should be avoided as if it were a disease, which I wouldn't say is far from the truth. As I said though, there is no shame in learning to fight. The training required builds one's health and well-being rather well. Perhaps we should train together at some point during our training sessions. Annabeth and Leith may be learning entirely different fighting styles, but the physical conditioning should be fairly similar." Ssarak was close to finishing his meal, and about half done with his ale. He could feel its effects already, though he would not be greatly intoxicated by the time he finished it, unless he decided to go back for another glass.

Jenna listened as Ssarak spoke. What he first said made her curious, 'danger is something I can never seem to escape.' He curiousity was roused but she did not push, it was far to early for he to ask anything of that sort, she still barely knew him and he her. Or at least so long as he stayed out of her head he didn't know her. As he continued speaking, more of what he said hinted towards his past but, still Jenna did not ask. As he changed the topic to all of them: her, him, Leith and Annabeth training together she nodded, "I'd like that, though Deven would likely be there as well." Jenna said adding to last part a second later. She knew Deven wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to train with all these people.

"And he is more than welcome to join." Ssarak responded. "Even if I knew I was never going to pick up a weapon again in my life, I do not believe I would ever stop training. There is something...calming about it, and I always enjoy bringing in more people when I can. Perhaps we can all learn from one another. Speaking of which, from whom did you learn to fight? There are people from all parts of Tien here at the college, so I imagine many people have techniques I have never seen before." Ssarak had asked others similar questions before, as he was curious to learn what kinds of information was simply unavailable in his homeland that was present at the college.

"That's good to hear, I'll be sure to tell him." She said with a smile. She had managed to mostly distract herself from think about the fact he was a psychomancer and had managed to calm down. She nodded as he spoke about the relaxing aspect of training, "I can see what you mean, I can definitely see how you can blow off some steam in training." She said with a shrug. Maybe that's why Deven likes to train so much. She thought as Ssarak continued to ask who she learned to fight from. "Well actually, I am primarily an archer. I am not one to brag but I am a hell of a shot with a bow, I just started training in swordsmanship recently and all my training in it has been from Deven. But I was trained to use a bow by my uncle Bran. He's my father's youngest brother, I started training when I was fifteen, haven't stopped using my bow since." She said with a proud smile. "You might have noticed I have been training Deven to use a bow recently, if you ever wanted to join in, you could." Jenna offered with a welcoming smile.

By this point, Ssarak finished his meal, then took a drink of his ale before responding. "Intriguing offer. I have never been skilled in ranged combat, truthfully. My fighting style relies on closing distance to become deadly. I was trained as a warrior of clan Dyre, so I commonly fought as a part of a larger force. I can do little at range, but I am helped by the fact that my armor can stop most projectiles. Bows such as longbows cannot pierce quality plate armor, such as the set I keep in my room, though crossbows do have that capability. A light, mobile crossbow pierce enough to cause injury depending on the angle, strength of the crossbow, and so on, while a heavy crossbow will pierce easily. Fortunately, our enemies rarely used such weaponry. I am not certain how common they are in human lands, though. I could attempt to learn, but you would essentially be teaching a novice. Perhaps I can return the favor with some advice for strength training? I do not suppose you have an interest in wielding blunt or heavy weapons, do you?"

Jenna listened and nodded along at times as Ssarak spoke, he delved a little into his past saying he was a warrior for a clan by the name Dyre, she imagined that must mean he was a soldier of some type but she did not ask. As he spoke about his armor an image of her first day at the college came to mind, it was when they had first arrived, he had stepped forward out of the crowd and was wearing his ful plate armor. As the image left her mind she was not surprised that such a set of armor could resist arrows from even a longbow. "Crossbows are not uncommon, I know a good amount of people cling to them because they are easier to use than bows are and are more powerful at piercing armor such as yours. But still, many more use bows due to their ability to put out six times as many shots then a crossbow can." She said before remembering another thing Trystan had told her when she was learning to use a bow. "Plus, i've heard some people prefer bows because they take more skill then crossbows do." She added a second after she finished speaking.

She shook her head as part of her response to his offer, "No, strength is not really my forte, I much prefer moving fast and staying out of arms reach. Heavy and blunt weapons are not really my area. Though you may want to try offering that to Deven if it comes up. He might have a different answer for you." She said smiling apologetically before returning to her usual friendly and happy expression.

Ssarak grinned, seeing a place for he might give helpful advice. "I know blunt weapons are commonly associated with slow, strength based styles, but I believe you might reconsider wanting to learn how to use them, even if it is not as a primary weapon. Something like a warhammer or heavy battleaxe would of course be unusable without a good deal of strength to back it up, but something smaller like a one-handed mace can be a practical, useful weapon, even for someone of average strength. Blades excel in the area for which they were designed. They cut through the air even more quickly than they cut through flesh; they are widely used for a reason, but the one area in which they fall short is dealing with heavy armor. A sword is very nearly useless against a full suit of plate armor, as no person can produce enough force to put a sword through the plates. To deal with an armored warrior, one must choose the correct tool for the task, and blunt weapons are that tool. While plate armor excels against blades, it does not protect well against blunt force. Even a light mace can allow one to go head-to-head with an armored soldier. You may not always have allies available to handle situations you are not adept with, so I believe it is good to have a versatile skill set."

Jenna listened as Ssarak spoke, she couldn't help but notice the grin that spread across his face before he started speaking and only chuckled lightly at him before falling silent as to pay attention to what he was saying. He seemed quite knowledgeable in this subject but, given his past occupation it came with little surprise. Besides it would probably be smart for someone to know the weakness of their armor set so they know to try an avoid those using their weakness more in a fight. Jenna's mind finally stopped wandering just as Ssarak finished speaking, she nodded as she thought for a moment, "I guess you have a point, I wouldn't hurt to have another weapon style to fall back onto if I run into a hulking suit of armor." She said shrugging before she smiled at him. "You're very knowledgeable about your weapons Mr. Ssarak." Jenna commented smiling light heartedly.

"I had good teachers. Clan Dyre, along with Clan Xhoth, are among the proudest warriors in the Scorched Lands. That has led to...tension, conflict, but I believe they are at peace for now. At least, I heard our leadership was having peace talks with our rival clan when I left. I hope they are at peace. To think I once held such hatred for our rivals." Ssarak took one last drink, finishing off his glass. He could have gone to get another, but decided that Jenna was better company than a mug of ale. "At any rate, I should not dwell on such things. Now that I have finished my meal, I too need to find a way to pass the time. I have yet to go on my daily run, if you would like to join." He offered.
Jenna nodded as Ssarak spoke, she was all too familiar with political struggles. Wintercrest always seemed to be in dire political straights. When Ssarak spoke of his old hatred for his rival clan she could not help but think of House Fellrien's old hatred for Djarkel. They had been raised since birth to hate Djarkel and had done just that till they were driven out of their own homeland by their own people, now House Fellrien holds a better polotical relationship with Djarkel then Eania. "It is strange how someone you hated for so long can become an ally." Jenna said in a sort of reminiscent tone.

Jenna remained quiet for a time before Ssarak spoke up again offering her to join him on his jog. She smiled and was about to nod her head and agree when she remembered the entire reason she was still in the mess hall. She was waiting for Deven to arrive so they could be ready for Trystan's arrival. She smiled apologetically before she answered, "I would love to but, I need to wait for my friend Deven to arrive. Sorry, maybe next time?" She asked hopefully. She felt bad about turning down his offer but she doubted he would mind.

Ssarak nodded understandingly. "Of course, I understand." He stood up and stacked his empty glass onto his plate. "I believe I will take my leave. I suppose I will see you tomorrow morning in the gymnasium. Farewell." He said with a smile. After putting away his plates and glass, he returned to his room to gather his armor and weapons. For each of his runs, he always made sure to carry his axe and wear his armor in order to train his endurance more thoroughly, although he usually left his helmet behind. Once he was fully equipped, he proceeded to run and, since Jenna did not join, fly along his usual path around the college.

---

Some time later, Ssarak found himself rushing back to the dining room. After his run, he had found a place outside to lay down and relax for a time. Unfortunately, he became slightly too relaxed and ended up falling asleep. He did not know what time it was, only that the night's feast would likely be starting soon. He did not have time to drop off his equipment in his room, or at least he assumed he did not. Other than the minor discomfort of wearing it, though, it was not likely to cause any issues. There were armed individuals pretty much everywhere as of late, so he hardly stood out.

As he entered the dining hall, he breathed a sigh of relief. While a crowd had certainly formed, he was by no means late to the feast. Looking around the room, he searched for familiar faces, for friends to join with in the feast.