[hider=&] [b]Location - [/b] Elibstan Citadel Dungeon [b]Health -[/b] Iron poisoning; dehydrated; dying [b]Inventory -[/b] x x x [/hider] ---- Her iron shackles were removed with an ironic ease, the poisonous metal clattering uselessly to the cobblestone and reflex bid her flinch back from the offending shackles, and she was entirely grateful to the beast despite all his bluster and bellow. His baritone was a deep timbre that shot through her bones when he commanded that she fall behind him, but Kylmi wasn't about to complain from the literal shield he would provide in the onslaught. The iron festering within her blood burned and boiled with every trembling inhale that scored through her lungs in shards of hellish pain, her clawed hands darkened and coloured in a bark-ish brunette wove and gingerly clasped around her wrists reddened and blistered from the cuffs. They were raw from the insidious clasps, thorns having been eaten away literally by a near acidic reaction, the same condition slowly beginning to decompose the corners of her infamous, sinful mouth and the joints of her ankles riddled with tines. The Nymph shuffled after the charging ebonette bull, cradling her wounds to her chest, using the charred, downy fur to comfort and cushion any jolt or shock of impact during the raid. The air was permeated with the after tangs of magic from every respective caster, and she felt awed and inspired by their attempts though she could not summon the thorns on her delicate joints or even manage a call to any dead, forgotten plant life wallowing away beneath the stone, she felt utterly useless. Kylmi stumbled, caught her fall against the brunt of the crumbling corridor and allowed her breath to catch as everyone paused for the split second to decide on their trajectory. Eyes dimmed by the constant thrum of agony, she cast her eyes in a not so subtle rake down the well defined form of the man who was poisoned just as she was, a prince, fallen from grace; degraded to his bare extremities and that in its self was a rather curious sight. Muscles and sinew illustrated into a near warrior perfection, the same detailing could be proffered to the evlish kin and other forms of man when they followed after his charge and her brow quirked. [i]Well, well. Not a bad view.[/i] Even in the throes of her anguish, Kylmi laughed to herself with the chortle ending in a whistle of a wince, making her lips form in a scowl and her eyes to clench shut. But then there was a commotion, a squelch of flesh peeling and rent open by the fall of a monstrous talon, the plop of the dead receding into nothing; so easily dispatched by the brute strength of her aforementioned liberator. The Nymph did not mind the blood dotting her skin, the startling contrast of scarlet decorating the fur of her breast and waist, his roar was a cry meant to instill fear but she was not afraid. His open arms and talons were darkened by the life of their jailers and she smiled at that, thankful that her former torturers were falling under the revenge of their captives; thieves, murderers, mere exotic attractions and those mistaken for fugitives. Despite the pretty speech their token royalty had given, she cared not for it, these people had [i]hurt[/i] her, their deaths made her heart pound in glee. Kylmi stared up at the glowing eyes boring down onto her and flinched at the voice booming across her cranium, she didn't see any gender specifications under all the plate of his exterior, but the tone in her mind was the inflection of male. Not that she cared, Kylmi would gladly leap upon the arms of the slender elvish girls if they had offered their assistance too. His stance was aggressive, and any other individual might have been wary and fearful of his impression, but she merely beamed a grateful simper and graciously relinquished herself to his awaiting embrace. "Thank you, you glorious beast you," she said, planting her chapped lips upon the ridged and rough hide of what she could only assume as his cheek. There others were retreating into the barracks once the Minotaur charged through the door like it was nothing. Kylmi clasped her arms tightly upon the insectoid and waited when everyone began donning their gears and threads, she watched of course and noticed she wasn't the only one considering the reptile's rather awkward stare. She admired their skin and flawless physiques and glanced down at herself whittling away the more they stayed here within the dark. The evlish women, one of white and the other of shadows spoke in their elegant cadences and she frowned at that. Kylmi did not have any possessions here, for what valuables she had once possessed had been left behind at her traitorous lover's bed and those were nothing more than practical wears and she was sure by now they had been sold for meager coin at the market, or burned. But she also did not know where to go from here, sensible decisions bid that she return home to the woods but she couldn't imagine bringing with her the onslaught of the royal guards, the imagery of her home once again being pillaged tore at her heart and she ducked her head for a moment. "I need to get outside," she murmured quietly, lifting her eyes to the glowing ones of her mount before finally speaking up, her voice was edged in a feral panic, the ends of her hair continuing to curl and rot with her dwindling time. "Whatever you are planning to do, loves, we must do it quickly! Some of us do not have much time." The Nymph cared not for treasures though the story was fantastical at best, her glassy stare swept towards the black furred bull. "They will expect us to retreat to the woods, I know the forest of Uchfos well, but I doubt they'll simply forget such prizes as the many of you and just let you go. " Kylmi felt her hope diminish, she was once again homeless in this cruel blemish of fate. "But whatever it is that must be done, I only wish to see the sun again, I'll go with you, just so long as I leave this horrid place behind." Her grip tightened upon the blood drenched chitin of her beast, desperation colouring her face pale.