[u]Lidda[/u]

Lidda had to admit that Annabeth was right, her eyes shifted to look on herself for the first time in a long while. After all, half Snow Elf and Orc crossbreeds were rare as well as unusual since their birth rates were so little, the reason rather clear to why. Out of all her prior forms, even she had to realize this current shape was the closest to normal she had ever gotten, most the others ranged in human shapes and some didn’t even bother with any humanoid traits at all. Those were the fun ones in her opinion. One of the fun reasons she enjoyed her blood and the creativity that came with it, it brought a greater understand how things worked in her mind. 

When Annabeth’s initial shock was over, Lidda’s right hand rested upon her hip while her tusked mouth gave a small smirk. At least the best it could. Her eyes shifted to the weighted coin purse, likely now more empty now in her guess, at the student’s side and chuckled to herself. Either the girl was extremely lucky in her choice of games and managed to pick the more honest games out the many hustlers and swindlers in the bunch. The other option, the likeliest, was that she had taught the game owners never to underestimate a pretty face. 

If the latter was true, Lidda could admire that. Khan’s naïve method was based on trust that the game owners would be fair and honest, but that’s not the greatest way to make a living. That’s why she sometimes skirted dinner to ensure there was no game that drained too much of the student’s earnings on the College grounds. If they did, she easily shut it down and reported it to the guards to watch the offender. 

When Annabeth saw her father, the girl of course recognized him as the Eania Ambassador before she backed up and bowed in respect. Lidda’s eyes fought to roll upwards when she spotted him return the gesture, his face serious in its business like display. Before her father could answer, Lidda’s comment jumped in as she noticed Annabeth was alone instead of accompanied by her friends. “No, you’ve not. Annabeth, this is my father, Jordan Sonnet. A retired Captain of Eania’s military and current the official between the city and the College.” 

Her head shifted to the sky and noted how late it was. Her voice added another comment to her intro, a slight dislike even if it was family as she decided to send Annabeth off. At least before her father’s presence could drag her into this, making things more complex than she needed. “It’s getting late so maybe you be finding your friends before the fun ends? I’ll be escorting my father back to his room before much longer.”

[u]Khan[/u]

Khan listened to Tyrael’s words and knowledge about the Naga, namely with his experience living among them. What he found mostly interesting was that they lived near the Ravine, one of Tiien’s most dangerous areas, where they continually struggled again the threats that tried to swell to the surface. It seemed the place Mar came from was named Mesa Gaan and he made a note to converse with both Uicle and Tyrael to attempt to contact them. Mainly because if they reacted the way to Mar as Tyrael had once described, he could only imagine what would’ve happened if more Naga started to develop the same gift. 

It could very well wipe the whole race in time. The thought was an unsettling notion but a dark truth about the civilized world’s reaction to change, one he had seen happen a few times over and was helpless to stop. His hand rubbed the back of his neck to chase away the negative thoughts before he noted the time. A few hours had passed and the feast had started to draw to a close. The evidence of this was in the number of attendees, the amount slowly dropping as they retired to their rooms. It was a good excuse to follow suit. Like in the past, his mind and body was usually drained in his experience with the events. 

“Well, if you’ll excuse me Tyrael, I think it’s time I retire before I fall asleep upon the table itself. Have a good evening and thank you for your aid.” Khan said, his muzzle turned up in a bit of an exhausted smile. 

The chair squealed as he pushed it away, his hands reached to stead his descendent upwards. His wings tucked close to his body and steps at a steady pace, he pulled away from the table and headed through the thinning crowd towards the door. Luckily no one approached him when he edged out into the hallway. His feet pitter-pattered in the slightly emptying hallways along his route towards his quarters.