In the span of but a few breaths, everything had gone to the hells. One moment, she’d been speaking with the slip of a wizard, considering his challenge mildly. He’d summoned an earth elemental, lumbering and rough around the edges, but familiar enough territory for Kalana. Growing up in a city ruled by genasi, elementals were a copper a dozen. It would be a simple matter to burn through its defences and prove her merit. Nostrils flaring as she pushed off her staff, her blood seemed to scream through her veins, ready to answer the call and [i]burn[/i]. Sparks flared between her fingertips as she began their instinctive dance.

And then the pleasant civility of her morning came to a screeching halt with an accusation and a truly [i]massive[/i] body being launched off a comically undersized steed. Her hand clenched around the white-hot spark, suffocating her own spell before she inadvertently flambéd the small mountain of a man.

Kalana’s scarred lip curled. She couldn’t exactly figure out what had happened, but instinct warned her that none of this could be good. Tutting impatiently, she turned her gaze on the first interruption. Brow arched, she considered it with disdain. A peasant, it seemed, with more zeal than sense. Her golden head-dress tinkled delicately as she cocked her head to one side. It was armed—instinct urged her to take a step back. But there was both the earth elemental [i]and[/i] the second interruption in that direction.

Instead, she scoffed.

“Didn’t your master ever teach you not to interrupt your betters?” Every throaty word dripped with condescension, as if she were reprimanding a small child. With a huff, she drew her intricate robes tighter around her shoulders against the crisp morning air. Blistering eyes turned on the second disturbance—although she was careful not to turn her back on the peasant—“And you—just, [i]what[/i] are you doing?”