Arc I - Terreille in Trouble
Mikhail's sudden appearance was a stunned shock as the Dea Al Mon man was not prone to outbursts. Though his news was a shock to the group. Mikhail would see Gennar's face grow dark with fury. Denvar was not far behind his brother's fury and the Eyrien Warlord Prince was walking the killing edge as he snarled something that could only be a string of curses in his native language. The two sprung towards the door, more than intent on tearing the city apart to find their missing Black Widow and friend. It was Fatima's raised hand that stopped them however as the Hyaellian Queen spoke. Fatima had been shaken by the news, and not in the least for the slight guilt she felt knowing that Fatima most likely had been spirited away while getting herbs for the brew they had spoken on earlier.
"Wait, please. I know you are concerned but we must handle this carefully without bringing Lady Alice's guards down on us." Not without a way out at least. Inclining her head towards Jandar, she gave the Red Jeweled Warlord a steady look. "Lord Jandar, please see if Priestess Orlenna has finished her task at the candles yet. If not we will need another way to lay low in the nearby area until she is finished." The order was sensible and she nodded in agreement. "Thom and Dunny will go-" The Sceltie snarled with distaste interrupting the Queen. *I will remain with the Lady.*
Thom's lips were thin and the boy looked pale as she shrugged. "Lady, let Dunny stay with you. He's good in a fight, no one suspects him." Fatima seemed to considered it for a moment. She was hesitant to put the boy or the Kindred in harm's way but Thom had spoken true. The presence of Kindred was rare and most thought them stories. The Sceltie would be as good as a hidden dagger. "I will go with Mikhail, the brothers, and Dareen-?" She paused at the woman had rushed out into the garden. Gathering her skirts, Fatima followed. Saetan was a ghost in the dark shadows as he watched the group begin to act. Roused by the noise, the Warlord Prince had descended from the stairway. Still weary from the ordeal he had suffered thought he would be hard put to admit to it.
It was Denvar who answered Dareen's question. "He was bringing back items beyond his spending ability." Twin to the traitor, Denvar looked like a man torn between death and dealing it out. "He was never able to refuse a game of chance."
Gennar nodded, his face dark and his voice gravely. "We suspected he was in debt but this..." His wings were unfurled as he snarled something that almost tore a roar of frustration from his throat. "He would never have sold out Faeril." Yet, they all knew what Mikhail claimed and neither brother looked like they doubted it.
Fatima looked to the Black Jeweled Warlord Prince who stood in the eaves of the inn. "Prince Saetan. Will you accompany us?" The wording was formal, and she hated that she asked him to join them. She wanted to get as far away from this dangerous man as possible, but... That danger could prove useful. Faeril was a member of her court and one of hers. She was not about to permit the woman to be taken and who knew what to be done to her!
Dareen would find the trail leading over a fence, a small scuffle in the alley that led towards the poorer side of town. Dunny growled. *I smell bad men. Should I bite them?*
He looked at Dareen as he danced on his paws and his tail waved as a furry banner behind him.
Faeril to her credit had struggled. As it was, her hands were tightly wrapped in rags to keep her snake tooth from poisoning any of the men. One of them, however, was looking a bit ill as a blotch of purple spread up his arm. As Ahmar raised the Black Widow's head Faeril gave a deep growl in the back of her throat and her eyes promised death upon the man. Seeing Bellinar behind the mercenary, the Black Widow eyes briefly flicked to the Eyrien's guilty face and then back to Ahmar. A shiver ran down her spine at the mention of the sad, forlorn flowers. This man was Dareen's old commander, the tattoos explained thus. A man who had killed countless innocents and others of the Hourglass coven. Faeril wanted to struggle and press her Red against the shield and rip these rabid dogs' minds apart but she was too weak. Her red was too far drained from her struggle and she had been relying on the Blood Opal. Cursing, Faeril remained limp. Refusing to fight til she had the perfect moment to rip out this particular bastard's throat.