Welcome to Gaia! ::

Syn would follow Bhean to the water and stop to sit at the waters edge. "This area really is beautiful." Well, from what he could see of it. He dipped a gloved hand halfway into the water. The glove was just thin enough that he could feel the coolness of the water. He'd let out a deep breath. "I don't wish to seem rude but I'm afraid I cannot join you in this either." He feared the lights effect on his pale skin.

He could feel Bhean's emotions change to disappointment.
He just watched her silently as she walked to her and placed a hand to his chest. It was cooled from the swim and it chilled him. Not an unpleasant feeling. His home was cold like that.. He nodded at her request to wait for her but she hadn't seen it. Syn stood and looked around as best as he could. He didn't wander too far from where he was at all.

He felt himself wrapped loosely in arms. As quickly as she was there, she separated from him with a murmur. He'd follow slowly not far behind the giggling woman.

its night already? o.o cool))

He followed he under the tree and lowered his hood.
" I do like them. I would sleep on a level close to the surface when it stormed because i found the sounds of it to be soothing." He'd lean against the unoccupied part of the tree and close his eyes. "What of you? Do you like them, Miss Bhean?

((Good job. It's pronounced Bee-yawn, if you used american english words to approximate...scotch-gaelic))

({[ I'm just more familiar with Welsh-Gaelic, and vowels are treated much differently. In Welsh-Gaelic Bhean-Sidhe is pronounced as 'bahn-shee', and in English we get banshee. Anyway, not really important, I just wanted to know how to say it in my head.]})

Tan ran. He wanted to get far away from town before changing forms. Then he thought of Miklos. He didn't know how far behind the minotaur might be, and didn't really want the bull-man to be left to face Tans' attackers alone. But Tan Cudyll was tired of the town. Magic was no unusual thing, but people seemed to have a solid dislike of fire not firmly contained in the hearth. So one who wielded fire as a part of their nature was not exactly welcome.

Tans' human form had allowed some freedom, but he tended to lose control when pushed too far. A phoenix losing control of its' fire could be a frightening thing indeed.

Tan followed the main road for some distance before settling down to wait for the minotaur. If Miklos didn't show up by mid-day, he would have been delayed far too long to becoming at all. Which meant Tan would have to go make sure he was alright, and do what was necessary to put things right. If it came to that.

({[ *in Irish brogue* Ah, now. Tis not fair takin' your lass from reality. The rest o' us had to create ours fair 'n' square! *Done with horrible fake accent* Actually, that's pretty cool. I never really looked into the sidhe before. Perhaps I'll take time to fix that.]})

{{OOC: Sorry for the delay Blaidd, but between work and night classes, the last few weeks have been hell. Hopefully things will lighten up soon. And yes, Miklós will be joining you again, though I don't envision him as the running type. I see him as having three speeds: sitting, walking, and walking faster. sweatdrop }}


Miklós had almost reached the gate proper when he heard a shout from behind him, and then his view of the world turned sideways, as his bulk went crashing to the street. His horn skittered along the stone, keeping his head from slamming as well, but doing nothing for Miklós’s rapidly deteriorating mood. What the hell? Did that guy just push me? In the few fractions of a second that his fall had taken, and for Miklós quick thought to form, he became aware of two arrows impacting a far wall. All thoughts of being shoved to the ground quickly vanished as anger flared into rage. Wait, a minute! Did some dumb sh*ts just take a shot at me?! Miklós didn’t have long to ponder a course of engagement before another shout, followed by a burst of heat from behind him, interrupted him. The word ‘run’ floated to him through the seething rage that had built in his head, but leaving was the last thing on his mind.

Taking quick stock of his position, Miklós saw his glaive had fallen away from him some twenty feet, but the ‘Boom Chucker’ was just out of reach. Tucking his feet beneath him, Miklós went into a roll. As he came out of the roll, his right hand came down on the stock of his weapon, and he then pushed himself to his feet using the momentum from his roll. Now standing and facing the opposite direction, he could see a small wall of fire had come into being just in front of a nearby ally. Behind it, three forms were backing up, but he could see two of them renocking bows. Hmph.

With a snort, his thumb pressed the breach release catch, and the barrel of the weapon folded down on a hinge. Without taking his eyes from the targets, Miklós pulled the first shell from his bandolier, checked and confirmed it was banded black, and then shoved it into the ‘Chucker’s’ breach. He could see that the wall of fire was dying down, and the people on the other side were desperately trying to see through it, trying to find a target. With a flick of his wrist, Miklós snapped the weapon shut again, and leveled the barrel to aim at their feet. Then, the fire wall shrank to the point that the attackers could see Miklós. Their eyes went wide, as Miklós spoke aloud, to no one in particular.

“First mistake of the day. Last one of your life.”

The two men with bows suddenly remembered them, and lifted and drew them. Miklós simply squeezed his finger. Following a deep cough of air, and an ear splitting explosion, all three men were down. The two wielding bows were slumped and bleeding profusely. The third, who had begun running the moment Miklós had opened his mouth, appeared to be dragging himself down the ally with mutilated legs dragging behind. Miklós turned away, as the two watchmen emerged from their cover, and removed the now empty shell and placed it in an empty pouch on his belt. Stopping to pick up his bag, and then his glaive, Miklós headed out of town, and on down the road.

A small blue and gold frog hopped through the corriders of the boyar's castle. Just yesterday Vasilisa's husband Ivan was to be the new boyar, and today she awoke to find her husband gone, and her frogskin back on her. She tilted her head up to better hear the soft music that marked the path Ivan's kidnappers had taken. Did one of the birds of legend take him?she wondered aloud before hopping through a shining golden door...
And stepping into a small meadow, no longer a frog, but a beautiful pale maiden with sharp green-grey eyes and long dark hair bound in two braids that reached just below her waist.
Where am I? she exclaimed, And why does there seem to be more magic here than in Mother Russia? She walked down a path leading from the clearing, searching for some sign of her missing husband, who was bound to be in a world of trouble, being the mortal that he was...