The sounding of the bell proved to be as alarming as one could imagine in that it was truly both surprising and unexpected, but moreover that it was magical and clearly so; unlikely was it that Lady Genevieve would so much as use an enchanted bell without being under some form of sufficient duress. While there was doubt the would-be assassin would have headed off, and so quickly no less, to meet the true target, it was more credible that [i]another[/i] might have been present.

Wrapping her palm about the frame of the splintered door, her attention settled upon the strange ambiance that seemed to rise above the bell's sounding. It was as though there was an uncanny silence for a moment as the sorceress looked on, eyes fixated upon the length of the hall, the ringing dulled and distant; a presence, some sort of magical aura or energy just felt to tingle the air. The sort of thing only one schooled in spellcraft would know... or someone with enchanted blood as her, but it all did not sit well in her golden furred breast; something was strange, and it was not the bell. Her assessment did not linger longer, for the younger of the two knighted men stepped behind her and down the hall, swift to arm himself thereafter and turn another weapon over to his superior.

Sakaala stepped behind them with a cool exhale, mind attempting to ready her body to act with unmatched alacrity, drawn from a font of power deep within, driven by presence and force of personality.

[i]"In the face of Diagorides' destruction of her wall, it is my hope that the lady will not mind us borrowing these ornaments."[/i]

The lioness' regal voice responded, "I have reason to believe she has other concerns now."

Of the collective this was the general consensus, to which Sir Hepburnberg inquired of the small woman after; the half-blooded man's dark green eyes had seemed to narrow earlier, and his lips pull in a concealed smirk, but now? Having finished assessing the weight of the gilded sword in his hand with a practiced manner, his attention seemed elsewhere.

But their answer was short lived...

[i]"I see where Genevieve is but something feels off. We need to hurry."[/i]

The moment the halfling opened her eyes once more, she was off, increasing her rate far beyond what the rest were prepared for. The huntress snarled lightly, her jowls quivering about the edge of her canines; the small one's brashness was going to get them killed, if not just her. It was one thing to work with prideful men of bloody trade who all thought themselves the best swordsmen in the world, as she had in her past days, yet it was another entirely to contend with a psychic who seemed ruled by her personal involvement. Not that emotion should be devoid of course - the aged ranger knew this better than anyone else - but it was a tool one needed to employ with care.

Setting upon Sir Erran's shoulder a partially gloved palm, her stance asked the pair of knights for a moment more - awaiting on Diagorides, clearly. She anticipated their surprise, even perhaps the questioning, so she replied before there was further wasted discussion as to what she was doing.

"Once he is with us," Her growled words and tenseness of her enormous paw-like hand eased as she continued, eyes still set upon the halfling who had bolted ahead down the hall, "I will imbue us with a rapidity you might not know men had."

Withdrawing from the youthful knight's robed shoulder, those same ebony padded fingers began gesturing in the air in a slowed motion that somehow blurred all the same. The lion-woman - the monstrous being among them - called upon some form of magical power, holding it at the ready with its roiling aura shuddering silently about her numb hand and arm. She mouthed strange, unfamiliar words, but even in her silence there seemed to be power latent in them.

For the Huntress now, all she simply needed to do was speak them aloud.

[@ArenaSnow][@Belwicket][@IcePezz][@Jon Y][@vietmyke][@Zero Hex]