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Conservative Reveler

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Foaley


                                  Foaley listened intently to Var'man, and nodded when the rat had said his bit. He didn't offer any argument, though he smirked at the commentary on bathing. If Var'man's odor was really so offensive to them, they were liable to have a hard time on the road. Perhaps they hadn't frequented the greater majority of poorer towns where waste was merely slopped out of windows and onto the streets. At the mention of pirates, Foaley turned to look down, but only moments after that, there were bandits upon them.

                                  "What the ever-lovin' Hounds've Ganw--" before he could even finish uttering the curse, a pair of arrows streaked for the tree. They were flaming, dripping tar, and Foaley tumbled from the branch when they landed. He managed to catch himself with one hand, which left him dangling and twisting improbably to avoid yet another projectile. He shrieked a little as well, though he would probably deny the fact if it ever came up again.

                                  One of the bandits had already taken an arrow to the face, and another was tangled up with the Earl, but two more came charging from the brush beside them. The first, a large thing in cobble-rigged armor, swung for the bard's feet. He kicked the orc's weapon aside in what looked like nothing more coordinated than a frantic gesture, and then dropped onto his shoulders. This was not as brilliant a move as he'd hoped; the bandit immediately snatched him up by one arm and slammed him heavily to the ground, where he landed with the sound of a handsome display case full of cuttlery being senselessly shattered in a drunken brawl. Foaley had managed to take the orc's helmet along for the drop, which was a small consolation in the face of the axe coming down at him.

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King of Clan Dav'vour


Location: King's Mansion ⇒ King's Mansion || Company: Other 'heroes' ⇒ Old God?



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Var'man snapped around as burning arrows slammed into the tree. He hissed at the flames and scampered away from them. His eyes focused on one of the Orc archers as it sized up the Old God, drawing back it's bow before letting an arrow fly. "OLD GOD!" His yelled out as he swung himself around her, placing him between her and the arrow. A hiss escaped his lips as an arrow dug into his flesh, hitting bone and drawing blood but breaking nothing. "Old God stay. Var'man fight." He hissed again as another arrow slammed into his back and punched another hole in him. He would not stand up to this much longer. He didn't want to show the others his powers so soon but he had no choice. A clawed hand moved to his face, it's wrist wrapped in strings and the like carrying crystals of various sizes, colors and shapes. A single crystal was swung up to his face where he chomped down, cracking the crystal with his teeth. From the cracked crystal came a soul wrenching, blood freezing chorus of screams, squeaks and squeals.

Var'man's eyes narrowed as he grunted, his flesh bubbling and expanding as he dropped down from the tree, turning to look at the Orc. His lips parted but this time no hiss issued forth; no, this time it was closer to a roar. The Ratkin King bubbled and grew with great speed until he was a mass of bone, muscle and sinew that dwarfed any in the party current. "Var... man... pro-tec... Old God." He barely uttered. "Var... man... KILL!" His speed was faster then what one would think such a beast would be but he was still a rat and still moved as one. Knuckles slammed into the earth, helping propel the monster towards the Orc, who let two more arrows fly. The arrows embedded themselves into the mountain that was now Var'man but it phased the beast none. A third arrow was prepared but unable to be used as the Rat King reached the Orc, a massive hand extending out as it gripped the Orc's skull, carrying it though to the ground as Var'man pounced. Screams only sat muffles for a moment before a sickening crack filled the air, letting all know that the Orc's skull was now nothing more then pulp in Var'man's mutated hands.

Var'man did not stop his assault though. The clinched fist held the remains of the skull and supported his new form while the other hand pounded home hammering blows that only bruised, broke and mangled the body more. "No... hurt... Old God... never... hurt... Var... man... stop." He stumbled out just barely. "Var... man... save... Old God." He roared, looking up at the group with a blood lust in his eyes. Arrows jutted out of him, sending rivers of red down his body to pool around his feet as the darkened blood of the Orc dripped from his knuckles. His eyes flicked about the group, looking at friend and foe alike, ready to kill for his Old God no matter who it might be.


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Astral Vampire

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                              -----TENYT x ... but call me xx ☽ ☾ xx "ELAHNORA"
                              ▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆
                              ------------------ f o r g o t t e n xx b l u e xx m a g e

                                      coding by pronounce_HELIOS from solar winds multi-wares art store
                                      xxxxxxxlife tick tick ticks // away - y - y
                                      EACH BREATH A COUNTDOWN xx EACH BREATH A COUNTDOWN xx EACH BREATH A COUNTDOWN xx EACH BREATH A COUNTDOWN xx
                                      xxxxxxxxxxxw i l l xx y o u xx f a d e xx a w a y xxxxx
                                      xxxxxor xx will xx you xx become ▬▬▬ BECO.ME IMMORTAL

                              xx☇☇


                              As Foaley gave a quick sentence over what languages he spoke, Tenyt could definitely tell that the first was some tongue of elvish, and the second might have been orcish or dwarven but she wasn't sure - and as far as she knew his accents for both were quite good. She was impressed. He then went on to talk somewhat of his past - or at least a little snippit of it - and revealed that the ratkin he encountered before didn't think that the old gods were elves: this in itself was more useful information as it revealed he did infact believe her to be an elf - mostly. Again shrugging, "They are not familiar to me." Var'man then also gave his proverbial two cents, which initially confused Tenyt until she understood that he meant the other ratkin. He seemed rather riled up about it also, and it was rather threatening how he spoke. The request for him to move over ended up with him asking if he should bathe - which admittedly would help with his stench. "Yes - no - just move over," she managed to say pointing further down the branch from where they were. The two on horseback also piped up and the girl did have a point, that would be easier. Hm why hadn't she thought of and done that already?

                              Suddenly arrows were flying everywhere and action burst around them; two arrows with burning pitch on the ends fired into the tree. Now, she's not a strategist but it seemed pretty odd for bandits to be so close to the city and to actively carry around flammable material and fire. Well, maybe they usually robbed wagons? Regardless, Foaley worked his way down to the ground with some assistance from the tree and Tenyt busied herself with attempting to get to the flaming arrows and put out the fire before it was too much for the tree. Now that was easier said than done; the tree pulling back in a disturbing wooden screech making it a bumpy ride.

                              Just as she stood up on the branch and braced her balance, she was suddenly covered and pushed roughly into the trunk of the tree by Var'man, who hissed in pain then told her to stay put. Just like that, with an eerie sound he was gone again but his smell remained and that brief moment of contact made her feel dirty. Free to try and reach the arrows now, she made decent progress to the first arrow but the top of the tree had been consumed in fire. Grimacing at being forced to abandon ship so to speak, her entire focus was then put on winding her and her staff down to the ground safely. The sounds of the battle and something incredibly vicious rang out mixing with the tree's noises. Turning to see the progress of the fight as her feet touched the ground and the tree took off in a random direction - hypothetically towards the nearest water source - a shiver went through her and she stepped back from the sight. Var'man had truly transformed into some monster, wounded and standing over the pummeled remains of one orc.

                              She didn't know what to do in this chaotic circumstance and stood in shock for a moment looking at the beast before noticing Foaley still in combat and rushing forward to swing her staff at the orc and letting out what she thought was a decent battle shriek. A sudden awareness of her guardian forced it's way into her mind as she heard the tinkling of glass behind her, an impact and then a surge of ice crystals scattering over metal. A slow burble mixed it's way in the light chiming and the construct of floating mirror shards dashed to stand infront of her between Var'man. Her staff connected with the back of the orc, knocking him forward.



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CLAW


              He had no time to stop. The girl rolled around like a fool tumbler, the chivalrous lord was oblivious, the Rat king turned into a demon, and surprisingly, the tree ran away. Claw ran down and hacked the Orcish bandit fighting the lord. He circled back around to finish the remaining bandit, but the beast that was Var'man unsettled his horse. A construct of some metal appeared between the rat creature and the others as Claw dropped off the side of his mount. The bandit whirled around on Elahnora.

              Claw ran and jumped onto the Orc, his smaller blade pierced the exposed flesh of his neck as his lighter body slammed into the heavy armor. The bandit fell and Claw on top of him, stabbing repeatedly until he stopped moving. He stood with both weapons bloodied and the kill beneath him.

              A cry sounded out from behind the group. He looked up to see other bandits on horse, and the riderless elk-mount. They fled fast and Claw stayed. "They took the elf." He stated, searching the area for more danger. They seemed to have come for what they wanted or they wanted to lure them into a trap. He noticed Foaley holding onto a helm after his... difficulty in the fight. "Are you alright?" He asked as he reached to wipe the blood splatter off the man with his sleeve.

Divine Muse


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~Annakarah Aranmenel~
Location: the road ~~~ Company: Claw, and the heroes
Dressed



                            Claw helped finish off the other two while the Earl was keeping anyone from getting at their guide’s back. She walked out, plucking twigs from her hair as she took stock of if anyone was wounded or not. “No one got hurt, did they?” She noticed blood, but that didn’t necessarily mean it belonged to any of them.

                            Where’d the gaffer go?” Probably not proper to refer to him as such, but she wasn’t really all that proper, now was she? Claw mentioned them taking the elf, so she figured that must have been the elf they had taken. The white haired one was looking a bit mussed. At least she didn’t have twigs in her hair, Anna supposed.

                            Are you alright? You’re the one that fell off the horse.” That was the Earl.

                            I didn’t fall.” She had rolled. There was a distinct difference.

Conservative Reveler

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Foaley


                                  Foaley lay still on the ground, his body rigid and the helmet held close to his chest. He was staring directly into the sky ahead of him, playing an excellent game of possum up until Claw moved to wipe blood off of him. His wide eyes darted to their guide.

                                  "Huh?" He sounded startled; it took a moment for the question to register. "Oh, I'm fine, Chief, fine. Thanks much, golly yer sweet."

                                  He sat up, crossed his legs so that his feet were under him, and leaned forward until he was standing, unbending his knees. His hands never left the helmet, and finally, after glancing around at the scene, he lowered it slowly onto his own head. Each new item had been taken into account-- the mass of mirrors, the large, hairless pile of rat, the elf-less elk, and the orc-guts strewn about. Foaley cleared his throat.

                                  "So uh... shall we...?" He lifted a hand uncertainly, pointing a finger at Var'man. "Looks here like-- uh, like we got us the beginnins of a mighty large porcupine, though."

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King of Clan Dav'vour


Location: Road ⇒ Road || Company: Other heroes ⇒ dead Orcs



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Var'man's massive fist was wrenched from the dead Orc's now caved in chest as his other hand opened to release the pulpy remains of the Orc's skull. He looked down at his chest, seeing the arrows that jutted from the muscle and the blood that flowed from the wounds. His eyes turned up as the thing the Old God summoned moved between him and her. It blocked his line of sight, it prompted him to attack but it was the Old God's and he could do no such thing. He moved from the body, but only by a little bit, and sat down; his legs were curled up as best they could be to his sides as he leaned forwards on his arms, his knuckles pressed firmly against the ground as they helped support his new weight. His mind felt like a dark, moonless night and his body hurt. He didn't know what to do. "Var... man... hurt..." He was barely able to utter. "Var... man... hurt..." He repeated, unable to express himself as he wanted.

The diminished mental capacity, affecting everything from strategy to speech, and the bulked up size was from the stones about his wrist; Wy'rd Stones. The stones were normally used in only necromancer applications but, though the waste of countless lives and the experimentation most other races are unwilling to preform, the Ratlings had found another use. The imbuing of inert objects with the souls captured within made the construct more powerful and, one fateful day, a Ratling asked; then why can't it make living more powerful? So began the experiments, tests, trials and fatal errors. Eventually, a way was 'perfected' so that captured souls could be absorbed by a living host for a certain amount of time but it had it's drawbacks. Mental abilities, including speech, reasoning, complex thinking and a slew of other higher functions stopped, giving the user the mental capacity of a four year old. But, if a captured soul was too powerful, it would consume the user; casting the user's soul into the place beyond places and giving the captured soul another chance at life anew, inside it's hosts body. No such thing had happened to Var'man so far and, if his luck held, it would would never happen. But, for now, the Rat King was nothing more then a massive child capable of grinding one's bones to a fine powder.

Blood red eyes looked from one party member to the next. They still seemed vicious and hungry yet his words seemed almost soft and hurt. "Var... man... hurt." He repeated yet again, looking about the party. One would take care even thinking of approaching him, let alone actually moving to his aid. The Old God did not seem to worried about his well being but, then again, he was just a servant in her eyes. No more or less then the slave rats each clan had; had his mind been about him, he would have realized this. But, in his present state, this saddened him and he could not truly understand why. In his warped mind it was more akin to a mother shunning a child. Words failed him now as he sat there, blood still running from the wounds as he looked about, unable to understand why.


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Divine Muse

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- - Anthony Dread - -
- - Places: the road west - -- - Faces: the assembled (minus Thanlion)- -
Dressed


                            He dismounted, still watching the forest for more orcs. He wasn’t seeing any of them, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some watching them. He had no magic to sense if there were others watching them, nothing more than the human abilities and sense of dread that was settling into his abdomen. The blond elf had been taken, and it seemed that one of their party was injured, the way he kept biting that he was hurt between his sharp teeth.

                            He watched Annakarah start to approach, and he quickly stepped between them. “I’m the ---

                            He just beat an orc with his bare hands. He’s nearly mindless.” He shook his head. “It would do you no good to get close if he’s just going to tear you to pieces as well, Lady Annakarah.

                            She didn’t try to pass him, but she did step into the Ratlings line of sight. “Var’man?” Beady eyes looked around. “I have powder that will make you sleep for a few minutes, so I can take out the arrows and heal you. It will only work for about five minutes. Much more, and we risk you sleeping for up to three days.

                            Tony didn’t like the idea of the petite female getting closer, but she was edging around him, eyeing the Ratling.

                            She started closer, keeping her hands where the creature could see them, and see she wasn’t a threat. She was approaching as one might a wounded animal, calm voice, careful gestures. “Would you like me to make the bleeding stop, and take away the pain? You can sleep while I do it. Just a few minutes.

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Foaley


                                  "Oh, bless his heart." Staring at the large rat-thing oozing blood and covered in gore, Foaley's voice did indeed sound a bit choked with sympathy. He edged a bit closer to Elahnora, still taking in the sight, and muttered under his breath. "Thanks for the save, Darlin'."

                                  It was the only indication they'd receive that he had any idea of what had been going on while he lay prone on the ground. The white haired elf, after all, had been the one to stop the axe that was bound for his face. He shook himself and glanced about, eyeing the elk again.

                                  "Those orcs mighta dragged off the Elder, but golly has he got a steadfast steed. Reckon we oughtta look for 'im?" There was no telling what the bandits wanted just with capturing the elf-- that might have been their entire purpose in attacking. Foaley looked to Claw. "I'd like ta think if we're s'posed to go slayin' demons, we got at least enough stick-to ta have each other's backs when, say, one of us is kidnapped. I can steer a moose just fine, an' if the rat's okay with it, he can ride with me 'till we find the poor fella. Prob'ly fer the best, seein' as he spooks the horses so bad."

                                  That would leave Elahnora with the Earl, whose company she would probably prefer to Var'man's. Anna's approach was commendable, in terms of bravery, execution, and overall dedication to her job. But at the end of the day, the ratkin hadn't done much to win their hearts, and out of the bunch, Foaley probably minded the creature's stink and his attitude the least.

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King of Clan Dav'vour


Location: Road ⇒ Road || Company: Other heroes ⇒ Other heroes minus one



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Var'man looked about as the small half thing slowly moved closer to him, holding her hands out and offering to help. "Help.... Var... man... no hurt?" He questioned as she said she could make him sleep and help him while he slept. "Make... Var... man... sleep? Make... Var... Man... no hurt?" He repeated in a broken fashion as he stood, slowly moving towards her as she stood there, staring into his burning eyes. He did not move fast nor aggressive towards Anna but there was still distrust towards the massive beast. He stopped just short of her, his colossal form looming over her tiny and frail one. If the ill thought were to cross his mind, he could have ended her in a single swipe but he seemed to be rather docile. "Make... Var... man... no hurt." He sort of demanded as he sat down before her. "No... take ... Var... man... stuff." He told her, looking down at his wrist. It was somewhere between a warning and a threat but he didn't bother to try and explain, mostly because he didn't have the right words. Now, he just waited for sleep.


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Divine Muse


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~Annakarah Aranmenel~
Location: the road ~~~ Company: Claw, and the heroes
Dressed



                            He didn’t want her stealing from him. She had no use for trinkets. She’d hardly be able to walk if she took a trinket from everyone she aided in some way or other. “What would I do with that?

                            He seemed agreeable to letting her heal him. She smiled, nodding. “I’m going to get the powder.” She reached into her cloak, and took out a little folded leave, making sure to keep it far back from her face. She didn’t need to knock herself out. It had other uses, than just putting patients to sleep. She’d learned early on how handy the powder was…Especially if idiots thought they could snort it up their nose.

                            This will put you to sleep for a few minutes, then I’ll get things taken care of right quick,” she promised. She unfolded the leaf, and then blew it right into the creatures face after watching his breathing. She needed to make sure he inhaled it. When it was caught by his breath, and carried into his lungs, he slumped, and she and Tony caught him before he could fall, and do himself any more damage.

                            Alright. Just give me a minute…” She checked his wounds to make sure there were no barbs, and no sign of poisons. She didn’t notice any discoloration, and orcish blades were nasty things. She couldn’t just tear it out, or she’d rip half his flesh with it. She’d have to push it through. She was careful, but swift, pushing the shafts through, and breaking off the heads, then she pulled the shafts free of his flesh.

                            One hand immediately covered the wounds, and a light emanated from her palm, the warmth soothing the pain while the energy healed the torn vessels and flesh. When she was done, he had a few white puffy scars, but he was otherwise healed.

                            He’ll feel a bit groggy when he first wakes, but he’ll shake free of it within a candle mark.” She grinned, looking at her bloodied hands with a scrunched nose. The Earl was kind enough to pour some water from a skin over her hands to get rid of the blood for her. “Thank you.

                            She looked towards the horned man. “His name is on the paper, and we only have the King’s authority if we are all in agreement. Isn’t that right?” She looked around. “Unless we’re just going to do what we can with what resources we have?” Unless they would just presume him dead...She wasn't going to say that though...It might sound like she was up to something.

Astral Vampire

Tenyt had successfully managed to stop the axe from coming down onto the prone foaley, however she was immediately reconsidering the action she took when the bandit whirled to her and was about to swing the axe around and into her. Quickly after that, their guide had suddenly slammed into the bandit and Tenyt shied away from them in hopes of not getting her dirtied white dress even dirtier. Left now to look at var'man ahead of her and her guardian, she spoke a word as the threats seemed to have been taken care of. "Krestnuah," and the floating shards of mirror collapsed in on itself and formed a pool of reflective liquid before streaming to behind her legs and seamlessly taking its dormant state as part of the metal of the dress.

Foaley had sprung up and placed the helmet on his own head - a humorous sight - and gave her a quick thanks. "Of course. He saved my life," she replied and nodded towards var'man, staring at the ratlin in thought. She wasn't entirely clear on what a darlin was, but it was again said in a positive inflection. He then put forth the question of what they should do as Tenyt finally took a step towards var'man as he was repeating a short and simple phrase, one that she was powerless over. As a blue enchanter, healing was not in her area of abilities, but the half elf girl had them covered.
Watching the ratlin closely, she was prepared to nod toward him if he had glanced her way. "I see no reason to put ourselves in further danger... If the paper is enchanted then I might be able to help..." She said over her shoulder as she approached var'man and the girl as she moved about her healing process.


((Bleh sorry, kinda crappy >< oh hospitals gotta love them))

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King of Clan Dav'vour


Location: Road ⇒ Road || Company: Other heroes ⇒ Other heroes minus one



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The half thing seemed to be much kinder then Var'man originally gave credit for. She seemed kind and good but, as with any Ratling, he had suspicions still. His attention was taking from the half thing and focused on the Old God as she moved ever closer to Var'man and the half thing. His lips parted to say something when a powder was blown into his face, causing him to recoil a bit but acting fast enough that he was not able to really move. Darkness took him and held him softly, humming it's sweet lullaby into his head for what seemed like a life time. But, just as quickly as it had began, it was over and his eyes slowly opened. He was still his massive form, the half thing worked quickly and time had not taken it's course. He would remain so for a while long but, in his current state, he did not know how much long it would be. He groggily made his way to his feet, taking the same stance he had before where his hands held the mass of his upper body on their knuckles and helped with his walking. "Var... man... no hurt." He stated before slowly working his way towards Anna. His huge head bent down and he nuzzled, as best the colossal beast could, the tiny healer. The movements where a bit jerky and a tad too hard making it almost seem as if he didn't realize his strength and size played into every motion he made. "Var... man... no hurt. Var... man... better." He said before turning from Anna and making his way towards the Old God.

"Old God... no hurt?" He questioned as he stood before her. "Var... man... save... Old God?" It was painfully clear by now to everyone seeing this that Var'man's new form made him into a massive child. His words were short and strained, his thinking was polluted, his demeanor wasn't that of the crass and superior feeling Ratkin from before. No, it seemed this version of him, while physically strong and resilient, did not hold the same cunning and intellect as when first introduced. It seemed as if this Ratkin could be approached.

He now sat before the Old God, looking intently at her as he waited for a response. He knew that she must still not like him because he smelled and his thinking turned to the blood mattered fur and the gore spattered hands. "Var... man... clean?" This was not a question if she thought he was clear as he knew he was not but more a question as to if he would be cleaned. He did not know how to go about such a thing himself as he had never really bathed before and simply moving though water wasn't something that would 'fix' the issue as his fur was rather waterproof, keeping the Ratkin dry and warm in it's dank and moist environment. If one were to truly want him to smell better, they'd have to risk bathing him themselves for they knew that it was only in this state that Var'man would even consider allowing anyone to bathe him and actually use soap.


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Foaley


                                  "How much danger's acceptable?" Foaley asked Ellahnora, side-eyeing the ratkin and the sudden affection he'd bestowed upon the healer. He smiled warmly and refrained from comment. "If we can't fish one've our own out of an orc's nest, I think our prospects for this whole wacky venture come out pretty poor. Never mind he's an elf, and an elf of status, at that. Y'know, powerful. We're gonna want him with us when the time comes, if we can help it."

                                  It seemed that he has said his piece. Twice, in fact, and, having done so, didn't push any further.

                                  "Var'man." He nodded his head at the hulking rat. "There's a little brook down the hill, last I remember. Let's getcha scrubbed, brother."

                                  He started walking, not waiting for a reply, and not entirely expecting Var'man to budge without the Old God's say-so.

Divine Muse

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- - Anthony Dread - -
- - Places: King‘s Mansion, Avalon - -- - Faces: the assembled- -
Dressed


                            "You see no need to put ourselves in further danger? I don't know about you, elf, but we have been contracted by the king to investigate a horde of demons on the coast. I do not see anything more dangerous than that. These were mere highway men... or at least I would say they are, had they not just attacked us outside of the city limits and made off with the other elf." Claw scoffed. "I am no enchanter, and I do not see how that helps him in any way."

                            Anna wasn’t say a word on it. She just looked about, as if searching for more would-be attackers.

                            I agree with Lady Annakarah. We were told we only speak with the King’s authority if we all agree. If we are not all present, we cannot use the authority of the contract. If nothing else, an enchantment could be placed on the contract to let us know who is still alive on the contract, but we will still need further proof. What is to say the enchantment doesn’t simply show what you wish it to show?” He wasn’t all that trusting of magic, nor were most humans. He highly doubted the King, or his men, would accept the answer of The Elf’s enchantment said he was dead, so we moved on.

                            We should at least know if we go in for a rescue, or simply to gain proof of a death to present to the King should we act without Thalion’s presence. Your enchantment should give us an idea of what we are searching for-a hostage, or a corpse. We will still need proof.

                            "Do what you wish."

                            I’m sure that Var’man can be washed during the search.

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