[u]Khan[/u]

At Tryael’s last statement, all Khan could do was shake his head and give an understanding expression. His eyes seemed to soften as if he agreed, mostly the fact it would’ve made things easier because they would’ve been following the same goals. The bad part was Tiien wasn’t like that, the world held her own sway and influence which made it difficult to overlook. Khan’s mind turned once more to the goblet. His eyes shifted to look at the deep, golden liquid within before he pulled it to his muzzle and drained the last of it. Effortlessly he reached for the stone pitcher and pulled it closer, the bottom skimmed the table’s surface until it rested in easy reach. He let the sound of Ember fill his ears while it was poured into the goblet where it stopped just a few centimeters from the top. With a gentle thump, he set it down but couldn’t add anything else to what Tyrael had commented about Djarkel and Eania, his fingers twisted the goblet neck between his forefinger and thumb while debated on getting something stronger next time. 

His attention flickered when Tyrael mention his conversation with Mar. Naturally the Headmaster wasn’t surprised hard feelings lingered, his mind drifted back to the scene of her trial and the fact Tyrael had pleaded in her behalf, even so far as to reveal something he hadn’t considered. That Mar had no home to get back to. Despite her impressive control in the moment, Khan had noted the dark glare the Naga gave Tyrael which made the Esyire wonder if a blood bath was about happen back then. Luckily nothing happened though Khan was sure both would’ve ended up killing each other if there had. 

Khan shuddered at the thought, pulled away to gain some control as he notes the softening when mention of Lyn came up. At first confusion spilled over his expression at the name. Lyn…it didn’t take long to click that was what Mar had named the infant, his brows eased from his frustrated scowl during his focus. For a bit Khan was determining how to convey his thoughts to Tyrael with advice he hoped would’ve helped until his attention snapped to the mug shattering within the Fallen Orc’s grip. Bit of stoneware came flying across the table, some even had hit Khan who a split second earlier pulled up his hand to shield his face any chunks. His eyes centered upon the demonomancer, filled with concern and worry while Tyrael sought to clean up his mess then popped open a portal to dry his hand. The hot, sulfuric breath from the Inferno swept into Khan’s face and made a slight queasiness fill his being. 

How long had it been? His mind questioned himself when the memory wanted to pour into his head from that wretched day, that day he had nearly died. His fingers dug into his chair’s resting arm enough that the wood seemed to groan at his pressure. His throat felt dry and thick, unable to swallow while the Inferno’s stank filled his sense of smell. This wasn’t that day… Khan’s voice had to remind himself once more and his ridged form relaxed enough to heard Tyrael’s last sentence on the Naga. He shook his head free of unpleasant thoughts before he willed himself to answer. 

His chest inhaled, the air felt like needles within his lungs, while he answered truthfully. “To be honest, Mar is the first Naga I encountered and I little about the species other than rumors. Deep in the Yarsomere desert is where they live and are an isolated race, save for certain traders. They hunt in the Ravine openings and rarely involve themselves within human or outside affairs. Most traders who deal with them describe them as cold and uncaring, even arrogant. That’s all. I don’t even we’re going to be able to provide the best care for Mar’s young one, not to mention Lyn is half human.” 

[u]Lidda[/u]

Lidda, on the other hand, wasn’t having the best of days. The longer it carried on, the more she wished it would’ve ended as she walked in the presence of her father through the crowded courtyard. Bodies shuffled through the many booths and games, each vendor’s shout and colorful sight tried to claim the Vitamancy teacher’s eyes with no success. Mainly since her father didn’t allow her attention to be wandering and ignoring him. It was pet peeve which bothered him more than anything when it came to his child, one she had learned to live with. Currently the form she had was a [url= http://wallpaper-table.ru/_ph/1/2/853981191.jpg]Snow Elf[/url] with slightly odd ears but small enough to walk alongside her father easily. She could feel his sight run up and down her form, displeasure from the sensation and his face. 

Part of her wanted to roll her eyes, yet she knew it would only make his lecture last longer. “Why did you bother coming? To lecture or try to see if I could sway the College towards Eania cause you know that’s not going to happen. I won’t do it.” 

The older Snow Elf retained his firm and military look, his sword danced within its holder with each bounce from his hip. His voice held that familiar commanding tone in his reply. “I came because I’m your father, not for politics. You’ve been away far too long and neglected your duties within Eania since you came to this place. Even looking at you now, you’re not yourself but from what I gathered from the students many different forms. Why?” 

Lidda knew this was going as her shoulders sank a bit. Her teeth gashed within her lips a bit, her tongue pressed against her cheek to think what to say. She never got a moment to even speak before her father abruptly halted in his tracks. His eyes glared deeply at her, a guilty feeling washed over her like when she was child and caused her to forget she wasn’t one anymore. There was an awkward paused between them. Her father seemed locked in his ways as much as she wanted to avoid the scenario to come, her own pace grinded shortly to a stop too. He fingers had started to tenderly rub her eyelids in anticipation for the stress to come. 

When she didn’t reply immediately, he jumped to his own conclusions. “You’re ashamed of who you are, aren’t you? Of how you look-

His daughter cut him off abruptly, her voice slightly spiteful at his conclusion. “No, that’s not it. I’m not ashamed of you or mom so don't think like that. Please not today, I don't want to fight with you.” 

“Then why, Lidda? Why do you hide your image behind this.” He asked, gesturing to her current form as if it was something disgusting. 

“I’ll prove it!” Lidda snapped, her father always seemed able to get under her skin, as her body started to change. Only instead of activating it, she was shutting it down. 

Her skin turned a stone grey and legs lengthened as she gained a few feet to reach an average human height of a Naerse woman. Lidda felt her feet become larger and propped upon her toes while her waist narrowed, her muscles shifted from the petite form into thick corded muscle which still held some feminine appeal. Her hair turned into white ribbon strands bundled up in a ponytail and two long braids that rested about her middle with bone like rings. When the change had slowed, Lidda stood in her original [url= http://www.freakygaming.com/gallery/fan_art/world_of_warcraft/female_troll_warrior.jpg]form[/url]. 

“Better? I just think my form is too plain is all.” Lidda said, her voice had grunting tone to it though she wasn't furious. Her shoulders slacked as her desire to want to avoid the battle swept through her body, her arms dropped to her sides and shifted to walked away. “I don’t want to fight, not today. The College is tense enough without more.” 

Naturally when Lidda moved, she came to face with Annabeth, who she narrowly avoided smacking into. Lidda’s body froze as her tusked mouth drew up into a smile. “Sorry Annabeth, I didn’t see you there.”