[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=SlateBlue][center]Faeril Ashkevron[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[hr]
[center] [b][color=SlateBlue]Location:[/color][/b] Hayll
[/center]

It was a sigh of relief when Fae was able to steer the man into a nearby inn. It would have been difficult if she had to argue with him and garner her more attention than the Eyrien woman wished for. The odd dog running up to the man was not expected, but he seemed to speak to it. Fae decided not to question this and hold her peace til a later date. Then she would find the answer. Her will was iron forged in ice. Such as it should be, a small inner smirk agreed. She would not be her mother's heir otherwise. Giving a courteous nod to the woman who had ran up after the dog. Her firm voice still soft, soothing really, as she spoke to the woman. [color=SlateBlue]"I was about to get some food, when I noticed this one was unwell."[/color] Though she offered little more in explanation as she bodily steered the male into the inn and a secluded table. Will or nil he. Giving her current victim a scolding look she would give to any patient at his [i]'I'm fine.'[/i]. The two most hated words for someone like her. She knew something was wrong. It screamed to her senses than something was wronged and after nine hundred years of her Craft... She learned to pay attention to those details. [color=SlateBlue]"I am no witchling, sir. But I have not done my job as long as I have without learning 'I'm fine' is the biggest and boldest lie in existence."[/color] Her voice still was soft, quiet hard to hear by the passerbys and meant only for he. Though there was a will behind the words set in the icy gaze she fixed on him as hands set him in a seat.

If the Kindred and witch followed, she would also gesture them to a potential chair with the quick efficiency of someone used to working in chaos. Pulling a chair out for herself, and adjusting her wings to best suit the situation. A blessing she was wearing one of her backless gowns that left the small of her back to the loop of the top about the back of her neck bare. Fae never could understand how people could stand the slits in clothing that wings went through. Smoothing the wrinkles from the gown with a irritated glower and small glimmer of magic, she turned the glower to her current 'project'. It was cold of her to think this way, but people were expendable. Generally. This one perhaps was a good bit different. If only for his anger. Gen the Faithless was proof of that. Thinking of her old friend her eyes softened as she returned to gaze at her current problem. Biting at the crook of her forefinger in thought. Gen would have a fit knowing she was turning people's lives on their head, but such was her way. 

Giving a sideways look to the other woman. A silent warning and question. Was she to be trusted? Some Healers could not be, those generally stayed out of her way. The wicked thought gave way to a small smirk from the Iron Healer. If she could not be... Well, she did know a good friend of hers who might be interesting in seeing how she was dissected. It was ungracious of her, but she was a professional and not some gossip rag-woman. [color=SlateBlue]"Faeril Ashkevron is my name. You, Master 'I'm fine', are certainly not that in either context. So care to inform me as to who you really are, and perhaps even enlighten myself as to the actual problem? Which, I assure you, I am very adept at dealing with and fixing problems quietly and quickly."[/color] A quirked brow adding to her consequence. Faeril's voice never rose about a crystal clear and cold casual. Though there was a defined softness to it, as if talking to a spooked or startle creature to sooth it. Faeril neatly hid her smirk behind a concerned looking frown, at the though of this angry and powerful male finding himself treated in such a way. It was as amusing to her as it was probably confusing to him. 

[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=FireBrick][center]Gen Saroth[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][/center]
[hr]
[center] [b][color=FireBrick]Location:[/color][/b] Forests
[/center]

Gen sighed as he flew, there was little game out today. At least what he could see from the sky. Landing he moved through the forest the Eyrien paused. Hearing the screams of horse and a lash. A whip's lash. It wasn't a over familiar sound, but once heard it was seldom forgotten. Pausing, the Warlord crouched in the bushes. Regretting that he had not come sooner. He was not overly familiar with the Kindred but they were kind and not of the Blood. Friends. Allies.

Respected.

As the Landen horse fell, traumatized as it's jewel was shattered. Gen's slow rage burned a slow anger. Faeril would not like this. Not in the slightest. She would want this man, the village would want this man. Readying the bow, strong fingers nocked the arrows and aimed. Not at the man, but the horse. No horse, no easy way out. He sighted for the beast's heart and fired. He did not still his movement there and strode forward, drawing his sword with a snarl. [color=FireBrick] "You bastard." [/color] His smooth voice was rough with rage. The only words before he charged the man and strove with a slash. He would take this waste of life alive. He would answer for his crime.

[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=Olive][center]Ravyn Ghosteye[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[hr]
[center] [b][color=Olive]Location:[/color][/b] Hyall
[/center]

A whistling caught her attention. A purse of gold kept it. That would feed her for potentially months. Ravyn's eyes widened as she moved stealthy along. She shouldn't be doing this, she knew it. It was a bad city to steal, far too risky. But it was so very tempting. Far too tempting for a young thief. Salt mines be damned. Some risks were worth taking surely? So she watched the man and followed. Her attention taken from the odd man who had a group form about him. Grouped targets were never a good thing. Too many eyes, too many hands.

Feet slipped along the street and she eased along side the man and moved quickly. Striking like a snake, she slide a dagger along the  purse and gave a sharp tug. Freeing the straps that held it to the man's belt. Not waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and fled into the crowd. Darting around and through knots of people, making for the alley as she prepared to cast a slight illusion over herself. Ravyn wasn't sure what it would be yet but she'd have to decide soon.