[center][b]Pyria
[/b]

[i]Child of the Flame[/i]

[b]Location:Actium[/b][/center]

"Good, good, you understand! Luca is mine!" Pyria beamed as she clasped her hands in front of her chest, a smile sprawled across her face. "I like your attitude, girl!" The kid said, puffing up in a bossy manner, further encouraged by Sarai's play-along antics. "I heard big boobed chambermaids are a thing in these parts! You can be servant number two!" She added.

It was then when a new challenger appeared. Or well, that other pathetic little rat who was always complaining Pyria didn't leave enough scraps. Snakegirl. Didn't she understand the pecking order? She narrowed her eyes at the other little squirt, trying to appear bossy because she just had a meaty man with a slab of metal to back her up.

"H-hey! Luca's a guy." Pyria said in a strangled, contorted reply, as her golden eyes pierced the other duo. "Just the noodly, girly type, but a guy." 

[i]Sword. Dangerous.[/i]

She thought to herself, while gripping Luca's reins harder. She bit her lip. Suuure, she could send her servants to battle. But they were, er... cutesy servants. To pamper her. If they were missing eyes or limbs after having a clash with the burly man, they'd not be just as cute. Her gaze went back and forth between Snakegirl, Meatguy, Boobmaid, Luca, and herself. A conclusion was reached.

"Toughest in town, you say? FINE. I'll face you. HEAD ON. Stay away, servants! I shall take of this myself!" Pyria said, the barest hint of nervousness in her voice as she tossed the reins of the horse and jumped in a dramatic fashion.

Only to be caught in a stirrup and falling flat in the floor. Again.

"Noo..not again.!" Pyria said, tears welling in her eyes. It looked like she was going to throw another tantrum.

But she didn't. She had to be STRONK! Dragon's didn't cry!

She eyed her opponents. And then something snapped inside the tiny cogs of her mind. Snakegirl was a loser, but the guy did look dangerous. Pyria went perfectly still and limp, as if she was a golem that had run out of power, her gaze still on the tiles. She clenched her fist, and slowly, her gaze rose up to meet the swordman and lamia duo, magic gathering around her.

"If you so much [i]draw[/i] that blade, you might get into more than what you can chew." Pyria growled, all infantile tones of her voice washing away from her voice, and her tone plumetting into a much deeper registry.

Gold eyes pierced the two. Gold eyes whose pupils were now...slits.

[hr]

[center][b]Tsabal
[/b]

[i]The Dark Whisperer[/i]

[b]Location:Campus Magnus[/b][/center]

[i]Rude.[/i] Tsabal said, clenching her fist, resisting the urge to melt that human's face off with her magic. [i]Hero of a fruitless campaign, in a collapsing empire. Is that really something you can boast about? You'll drag others along your fall.[/i] The drow thought to herself as she shook her head, and the halfbreed chided both for being childishly.

[i]You couldn't possibly understand. Much like the flask, this was a test. Drow are always probing the defenses of anyone else. And he failed. Unlike the loathsome high Elf. If he can't  keep his temper with charades like this, how he's supposed to fare in a forest full of undead with no civilization on sight.[/i]

She pondered. "Couldn't hurt getting dressed. If only because to point out what he's missing with that sharp tongue of his." She added, as she zipped through the assorted tents to where Bane of Gardeners was, and her possesions were. Deftly picking up her gear and putting up a dark half plate, she still kept a cloak with hood alongside her. The final touch, Spinerender, rested on her back. Reigning her donkey, she came across the last of a discussion between the so called Hero of the East and fellow soldiers. Leaning against a post, she smiled under her hood.

"Now, whom had said that about not alienating your folk? Some preacher Hero you are, failing to follow the very example you've set."  She leant against the post. "And because of that, you're going to venture into the wilds with less people than you initially thought. Because of your childish, holier than you tantrum. Hero, or should I say, Empire-hired bounty hunter, and Elven Kingslayer? It's all a matter of perspective."

She contemplated the craftwork of her armor gauntlet. "But I'm going to offer you a second chance, because I'm in a good mood today. Swallow your pride, and apologize for your rudeness. I might deem then suitable to assist you. Fail to do so, and I'll simply remain here, waiting for the wind to carry your deathly screams."