The first test was… reassuring, if one was looking at silver linings. The human—Lady Gwynn-Theophania Saven, how fancy—succeeded. It wasn’t impossible. That is, if she wasn’t some ploy to lull the rest of them into a false sense of security. Her contempt for the speaker—High Priestess Dula, how pretentious—seemed real enough. Good actress, if not. Gwynn’s confidence was striking; how she could stand before a crowd and betray not even the slightest glimpse of worry, Skagi had no idea. He was a performer, sure, but this was hardly a scenario one could rehearse for. They straightened up, hoping their posture conveyed some sense of composure.

Then Gwynn disappeared.

Oh. Of course. Yes, of course, because this was [i]magic [/i]and [i]dragon eggs[/i] and apparently those can just zap people out of existence. Or the immediate area, anyway. Strangling anxiety to the floor of their throat, Skagi tried to reassure themself that this was all completely normal, all part of the test. He glanced at Dula’s unbothered expression. Perhaps this being part of the test was worse, actually. 

Then, as if nothing had happened, the warrior—Trevor, was it? He had already half-forgotten in the chaos—stepped up and said, [color=a187be]“I’m here, what do you need me to do?”[/color]

Gods above. Talk about a mercenary attitude. They crossed their arms and watched Trevor intently. Hopefully he wouldn’t disappear. Actually, hopefully he would. They didn’t think they wanted to know what would happen if someone didn’t pass the test, which, based on the number of people here… someone certainly would.