[h2]Jeanne Robina[/h2]

Oh, boy. It seems that they've taken a hostage.

"Gods, what a dishonorable dastard," Jeanne seethed, as she screeched to a halt upon reaching the rest of the Reclaimers. She sighed and lowered her grip on her blade.

She looked over at her fellow Reclaimers; it seemed that the general consensus was to [i]not let the lady die.[/i] What kind of heroic honorable thief would Jeanne be if she let innocent people get nicked by a bandit's blade?

Jeanne tensed her grip once more, having reservations on that thought. What kind of honor comes from cowering in the face of danger like this? Why, the [i]right[/i] thing to do would be to swoop in, blade at the ready, and duel this bandit-lord to the death for the life of the innocent woman! Jeanne was nimble enough to deftly avoid this guy's strikes (at least in her mind), and she could probably catch him off-guard as well--

"Habeen, why are you laughing?" Jeanne asked, snapped out of her mini-fantasy by the silent titters of the folk magician. "This is serious. I know dark mages aren't known for their sanity, but isn't this going a bit [i]too[/i] far?"

"There isn't a thing to worry about," Habeen said with a smile. "He can press that blade against her neck all he likes."

Jeanne blinked. "Come again?"

"That's right, he can just hold that blade right where he wants it," Habeen continued, her smile unwavering. "I'm not putting my tomes down."

"Habeen. That's suicide! Or--or homicide!" Jeanne sputtered, lowering her blade.

"Maybe it is homicide," Habeen declared. "I don't really care either way."

Jeanne shook her head in shock. "You, my painted pal, are officially insane."

Habeen simply leaned against a wall and smiled at Jeanne. "Maybe I am," she declared, before cracking open a book and thumbing through the pages. "Now, where was I..."

"Habeen, even I know that this isn't the time to be peeking at novels!" Jeanne cried, flustered and appalled at the folk magician's behavior. "You want that poor dancer girl to have her neck sliced open?!"

"Hey, like I said," Habeen continued with a shrug, "he can press that blade against her neck as much as he likes." She made a hand gesture with her palm turned upward.

Suddenly, Habeen made a sharp jerk with her dark fingers, causing a brief flash of white to envelop her wrist. Immediately, a sickly vapor materialized around Malboro's sword wrist, deliberately avoiding the dancer woman, in order to make him drop the blade with minimal harm to the innocent hostage (and maximum harm to the bandit).

"However," Habeen added, her smile fading and her eyes shooting open, revealing a dark glare aimed at Malboro, "I didn't say there wouldn't be [i]consequences[/i] to threatening that woman." She clenched her hand, causing the Mire to coalesce.