Eli, after being handed off by Alan to Shreckt, was clearly preoccupied with making sure that the Inquisition wasn't going to start attacking them, only briefly stopping in his scanning when his eyes fell on the Kuasagi girl a flicker of sympathy flashing through him before  he returned to his scanning. Throughout the entire trip, he didn't see one hint of an Inquisitor, or a Varisie soldier. That made Eli suspicious. [i]Inquisitors never give up this easily, and there are usually a large amount of troops backing them up if things went wrong. Something isn’t right.[/i] While still watching, he voiced his concerns to his spirit. "I don't trust this, it was too easy to get away from that Inquisitor." He muttered to Shreckt, still glancing about for the Inquisition he [i]knew[/i] had to be nearby. 

[color=9e0b0f]"Says the man who is currently bleeding from two wounds, can't walk or stand on his own and has to be carried by one of his spirits." [/color]Shreckt teased, before continuing. [color=9e0b0f]"But I agree. The Inquisitor, who we didn't kill, should be hot on our heels, especially now. We're all tired, weakened, and frankly unable to put up a fight against a determined force of Varisie troops. But he's just...gone. It doesn't feel right and we both know it. The Rider probably feels the same way, and perhaps the Kuasagi swordswoman, depending on if she has had much interaction with the Inquisition."[/color] Eli nodded. "The Swordswoman has never killed anyone before, so I doubt she’s met the Inquisition before.” Shreckt raised an eyebrow at him. “And how would you know that?” 

Eli shrugged as he scanned the area yet again. “I know the look, and the feeling, when someone takes a life for the first time. Some people justify it, others never kill again, and others are like me. They just become numb to it. Another day, another walking corpse.”

As they entered Drake’s mansion, which  was as opulent as Eli had claimed, the injured summoner looked about in exasperation as their host immediately relaxed and summoned a small army of servants with nothing more than a snap of his fingers. [i]We were just being chased by the Inquisition and he wants to relax and not prepare for the inevitable? Now of all times?[/i] Eli’s line of thought was interrupted as their host told Helen and the rest to take his injured self with them, before he bled all over the floor. 

Before Eli could make a suitably insulting reply back, Helen spoke up, sharply heading off anything he might say. “Fine, and I happen to be a perfect gentlemen if you lower your standards and change your definition drastically.” Eli grumbled, being helped along by Shreckt. Despite being herded and bullied into the medical wing, he was smirking. Someone watching would doubtlessly notice Eli’s wounds beginning to bleed faster, as if they had reopened, and fall to the floor. Eli’s index finger, hanging loosely by his side, twitched in a seemingly random manner. Behind the party slowly heading to the medical wing, a message was being written in blood along the wall. 

‘AT LEAST IT’S NOT ON YOUR FLOOR.’