[i]"Come forth and heed my call, nine knives!"[/i] Wrensthav said.

Evelyn watched with narrowed eyes as nine small blades swirled about their master. It was done almost subconsciously as her other hand reached out for another blade. Purple magic curled around her fingers as a Conjured sword materialized in her empty palm.  

[I]It mustn't touch the ribbed blade, no.[/I] Evelyn smirked contemptuously.  His technique almost made her envious. [I]With how Wrensthav absorbed the magic in my other attacks, even just a touch would shatter my Conjuration. He's playing to disadvantages he shouldn't know...[/I]

Wrenthav was right when he suggested their next exchanges would determine things. She had seen a great display of skill thus far, it wouldn't break her heart if Wrenthav managed to turn the tide on her. He was exactly what she needed for her epic quest; elegant warriors were a rare thing indeed! The asthetics were just as important to an elf, and she did enjoy reveling in superior company. 

[I]But on every other level he frustrates me.[/I] She thought defiantly, refusing to forgive him for being so enigmatic. 

She twirled her blades loosely in her hands, leaving streaks of glitter in the air. "I do believe you're quite right, Wrensthav. Let's finish this and break for tea." 

The stone scraped under the ball of her foot as Evelyn sprang forward, snapping her blades against Bergecrest. The knives hovering about the billionblade swordsman attempted to pin a weakpoint in her barrage. Alas, Evelyn's combo-hit managed to swipe her swords in a way that several knives became sandwiched between the two blades as she parried Bergecrest's strikes.

Evelyn grinned, ready to knock Wrenthav off his feet with one final hit. Out of her peripherals flashed two unaccounted knives, hooking about her blades in a way that the hilts tore free of her grasp. The force knocked her back; she had just enough time to realize she was falling with no way to catch herself. 

Two small blades stopped her fall with their hilts, hovering against her shoulder blades. Confusion crossed her delicate features as she hung there, apprasing the seven knives floating in a row inches from her throat. Wrenthav held Bergecrest's point at her head, savoring the final stance of their match. 

It was a flawless checkmate. "Damn. I'm impressed." Evelyn grinned, unabashed. "I formally welcome you to my fellowship,  Wrensthav."

Minutes later they paused for a brief tea break. Joining Mattien at the treeline, Evelyn sat the group in a circle as she summoned four chalices and a floating tea kettle. Steam rose from its spout as the kettle poured a dark, glittering liquid into each of the cups. Evelyn reached for one of them, blowing on the tea before raising it to her lips.

Mattien stared at Wrenthav over his chalice. His eyes were a mix of awe and aprehension. "Where did you say you're from, traveller?"

It was around that time another group made their way up the mountain to the shrine. They paused as they got within eyeshot, a single individual breaking off to apprach them. He was middle-aged, dressed in light armour, two shortswords strapped at his side. "Excuse us, we're looking for the battle mage who issued the 20,000 gold reward."

"That would be me," Evelyn stood, gracefully stepping out to meet him. "I issued the poster. But alas, you and your kin are too late. I don't do well in large groups, you see." 

Upon receiving a dumb stare from the man, Evelyn continued. "Tell the innkeeper to take down the poster. I have all I need." Her pale eyes glanced back. "These three will do perfect."