[center][h3][i]The Warlock Warrior[/i][/h3][/center][hr]

	Valence Valentine of Valryk had been watching her for some time, yes. She was quite intelligent, this one, she saw everything for what it was. A shame, though, that she knew the illusion for what it was. It would've been disappointing, if she had believed the illusion of himself to be real, but still- it would've been easier for everyone for her to have fallen into the trap. 

	He stood, from a ledge overlooking the cave- halfway up the walls and out of the light's reach, and even the fractured, reflected light didn't land here. He didn't need that much light to see, with Delphyne, his Wyvern, sitting behind him. He could see through her eyes, and her eyes saw much, much better than his. He had to step carefully- mithril boots had a tendency to ring rather beautifully if it hit something solid too hard, especially ice or metal.

	Delphyne involuntarily growled, an instinctual response at the sight of someone threatening her bonded. Valentine raised his hand, shushing her, but he didn't mind it- it made for a dramatic entrance.

	"Hush, now, Delphyne. We have a [i]guest[/i]."

	He sighed, and pulled the gloves off both of his hands, shoving them into a pocket. The cold bit into his hands a bit more than before, but was nonetheless harmless for a few hours. The benefits of the gloves versus bare hand and rune always favored his bare hands- he needed access to the power he had. 

	"Welcome, Princess Elise," he greeted, his voice tugging with weariness at the mere thought of why she was here. "I am truly sorry for the circumstances as to why we have met. I would have liked to think that, under more favorable circumstances, we could have been friends, or allies, at the least. Your mother was- is- an unfortunate necessary. Evil, nonetheless. And now you are here, undoubtedly to leave with me dead, or not at all."

	He took a step off the edge of his little alcove, and slid down the slope to the ice shelf that Princess Elise was standing on, not more than twenty or thirty feet away- and now in the light. 

	"Well, I suppose I shan't disappoint," he stated, staring at Elise with a certain sadness. "I have my people to save, and you have your Queen to avenge."

	He drew one of his throwing axes, and clenched his right fist- triggering the rune on the back of his hand, which flared bright blue and formed a transparent blue, shimmering shield three feet in diameter. He dropped into a ready position, Mithril and leather boots gripping, more or less, in the ice. His grip wasn't [i]that[/i] great, but he wouldn't let Elise know that. 

	Staring off the fight, he drew his throwing axe back, and, quick as a whip, slung it end-over-end at Elise, hoping for a quick end- even though he knew otherwise.