Arc I - Terreille in Trouble
Faeril's eyes flashed at the insult to her close friends. "Careful Prince. You would rather not make an enemy of me." She whispered quietly with a dangerous undertone. It was all well and fine to spar verbally but to insult the men who were as close as kin to her? That was something she could not and would not tolerate. The brother's mother had suffered greatly in the spiral of terror the Twisted Queens had instilled into the Blood and even with all her skill her late aunt could not lead the woman from the Twisted Kingdom that was madness. Now the Eyrien witch lived with a caring herbalist in Aven while her sons worked to protect the Healer-Black Widow. Turning her gaze to the howling and grief-stricken Queen, Faeril gave up struggling and pulled her wings close to her body. It was a terrible thing for the girl to lose someone she was close to, but the Hayllian man would never have been allowed to join them. He had been too much of a risk that could have betrayed all the Black Widow had worked for. The reason she had drained her Jewels.
As they reached the leveled ledge in the mountain that held her eyrie, the woman sighed and shook her head at the foolish little Queen. While she could very well sympathize that would not help the issue at the current point in time. They both needed Healing and Faeril was incapable of doing it. Wincing Faeril gripped Xandar's shirt, her blue eyes hard. "I have my reasons for my... lack of stored power. Do not dismiss the fact a Queen and several capable, despite what you may think, men turned up at the same time." The Black Widow hissed softly under Fatima's howls of outrage. "I will rest you snarling, foolish cockrel, but help my brothers. Their lack of power kept me safe. Do not dismiss the rank of Jewel as the only strength a person has. Now, go let their blood rain down." Faeril chided as she turned away, pointedly ignoring him as she tore off a sleeve of her gown. The quite audible grouse of 'idiot cockrels with swords' a stinging barb sent at the Warlord Prince. Wrapping the cloth about the gash in her finger the woman turned her attention to Fatima as the blood flow slowed. "Lady, if you continue to scream you will only draw the entire village up here and I would rather they not know I am housing a Queen. Even that possible reward might prove too tempting, for we too have suffered hard times under Queen Melian and Jurrian- the Territory Queen." Faeril snapped gripping the Queen's arm as she spun the younger woman about to look at her. "Rather worry about what you can do." Hypocritical words but Faeril was quite the proud hypocrite. It was one of her more vibrant qualities.
On the Stairs Ashkevron Residence, Aven, Askavi Terreille
@Zoey White (At the top of the stairs, on level with the Eyrie) @SilverPaw (Two level above Jassen's body and two levels below Dareen) @13org (Same level as Jandar)
The Eyriens were doing the main amount of fighting, save for the Opal Prince who was flying hard away from the eyrie. Wounded though he was the Eyrien had the advantage of wings and with the three brothers caught up in their own fights he was gaining distance from the battle. As the second-in-command to Lady Melian's Master of the Guard, he wanted his mentor's position for himself and getting killed would not get him there faster. But bringing back news of the Reaper and the Black Widow might. If he had brought back the Black Widow it would have definitely have helped.
The Green and Sapphire Eyriens raced towards the earth. Haelendar panicking as he watched the ground get close as they fell faster and faster. Each time he tried to use Craft, Gen sent a psychic blast at the man forcing him to shield or get slammed into the mountain. A mistake on Haelendar's part. If he slammed into the mountain it would have saved him from gaining such speed, if at the cost of a few cuts and bruises. Not that such things were much of a worry. The Eyrien's skin was already taking a ghastly grey twinge from Faeril's poison and his reaction time was lessening. Gen had spent enough time around the Red Jeweled Black Widow to know her work when he saw it. Finally they were close enough and Gen back winged hard away from the cliff as he veered along the ground and back up into the sky. Dareen's arrow would find it's mark well enough, digging into Haelendar's thigh making him wince as he tried to veer away from the ground. Mikhail would hear Haelendar's pleading cries as the men fell but now they fell silent after a sickening crunching crash. The broken form of Haelendar far below at the base of the stairs. His wings at an awkward angle and blood smearing the ground about him. The Green Jeweled Warlord circled back lazily as he checked on his foe and was satisfied with his death.
Kellvar was not faring well as the two Warlord Prince brothers drove him about in a whirling dance of wings and blades. Bellinar's blade cutting deeply as he passed, but gained a nasty slashe across his hip in retaliation. Cursing the newest come brother winged up the cliff. Denvar's opponent whirled to face him, the blade slamming into the youngest brother's shield ineffively as Denvar laughed in mocking rage. Then grunted in pain as he was slammed into the cliff, his wings bashing against the stone hard enough to bruise muscle. Landing a few feet below on the stairs, Denvar blasted his opponent with the power of his jewel. Kellvar shrieking a insult as he fell onto the stairs just above Jandar.