[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=SlateBlue][center]Faeril Ashkevron[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
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[center] [b][color=SlateBlue]Location:[/color][/b] Hayll
[b][color=SlateBlue]Snaketooth Counter:[/color][/b] 24 days left
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Giving a sigh, the Widow's eyes slide to the Healer and dog. [color=SlateBlue]"I care because it is my duty to. Often those who do not ask, need the Healing the most."[/color] Inclining her head stately to the Sister, she gave her a apologetic look. Not expecting her to be anything other than offended. [color=SlateBlue]"My dear, while you may not sense something. I have been doing my Craft a good deal longer."[/color] Her voice was soft, trying to avoid the insult.

Dujae SaDiablo. The Sadist. Faeril's gave a light chuckle at the whims of fate. How curious was it that her current patient was the man who [i]referrenced[/i] a good many of her clients to her. For one service or another. Distraught and in tears over their situation and willing to pay. They couldn't even turn about on her for the lectures she gave them about the proper protocol for bedding a male. The empty headed chits. It was honestly the aspect of her job she took a tad bit too much joy of. [color=SlateBlue]"The Sadist. A pleasure to meet one who sends so many clients my way."[/color] Her grey-blue eyes danced with amusement, as she idly traced the wood grain of the table. Oh, this was going to be fun. Already she heard the firm refusal in his voice that he didn't need healing and for a split second she pitied him. How many people had told her the same thing? How many times had she listened and heeded them? The answer was simply how often Gen could intervene. Oh, it was so very amusing! [color=SlateBlue]"However, I assure you, you- Dujae SaDiablo- [i]will[/i] be informing me. I am a incredibly patient and persistent especially when you, my dear, need healing."[/color] Her gently smile turned to a stern frown. [color=SlateBlue]"More to the point and fact, I am a Healer. Thus as healing is my Craft and duty I cannot merely let you go without trying. For I too have a reputation."[/color] 

Let him make of that what he would. She was not the most well known of Healers, but she was  good, relentless. As a Widow, she was even less known. A rumor of a rumor, the whispers of a spider to a fly. To the fact those who sought her out for both her aspects were oft desperate or insane. The prices for that sort of thing was high. Her skill as a Healer, however, was what she made herself known for. As she once told her Sisters, [i]'Let them think they are safe with the Healer. With the one to tend the wounds you have caused, my Sisters. Let them think my hand as the savior and salvation. Then...'[/i] She was distracted by her thoughts by two newcomers. One a Glacian male who earned himself a icy stare of disapproval for his interruption. The other, however.

Her eyes thawed as they gazed upon her Sister, Isa. One of the few Faeril allowed close. With a purr, she gestured between her victim and Sister. [color=SlateBlue]"Dujae SaDiablo, Isadora Lafay. My dear, this poor soul believes he does not need my aid."[/color] The disbelief in that sweet tone was faux as someone telling another the sky was purple with pink poka dots. However as she turned back to SaDiablo, he was standing. She had caught a tad of what another table was saying and was able to discreet they were speaking of the [i]'Queen's Pet'[/i]. The Sadist, who mercilessly smashed the Consort into the table before limping off. Faeril's eye frozen to the arctic chill that the room had been heading towards. Standing with a grace that spoke of deadly predators, and a pride that was not merely talk she stalked towards the poor beaten consort. Her face however smoothed to a calm, her brows crinkled in worry. Though not for this poor fool.

[color=SlateBlue]"And that foolsih man, seems to have never [i]had[/i] proper manners. Don't you agree dear?"[/color] She smiled with a bone chilling sweetness, the latter bit said to Isa. [color=SlateBlue]"To harm another in front of a Healer! No manners at all."[/color] Kneeling down next to the poor man, she laid a hand against him with a croon of affection that a woman might give a handsome man. Anyone who knew the Ice Healer would know it as a spider casting her web over the oblivious bastard. [color=SlateBlue]"But how awful for that Sadist to do such a thing to you! Here now, let me tend those wounds. He really was quite out of line, wasn't that Queen's Pet?"[/color] She plucked a cup from the table and offered it to the fallen consort with worry and concern written all over her face. [color=SlateBlue]"Now come somewhere quiet so I can fix you up proper like... You handle that brute well! Sending him running!"[/color] She bit her lip in concern- though it was that Isa might play along and not for this fool to get better. Rather he would pay a price. A price for harming her patient!

[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=FireBrick][center]Gen Saroth[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
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[center] [b][color=FireBrick]Location:[/color][/b] Forest
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With a deep laugh, Gen shielded his body with his power and grabbed the whip. Wrapping it about his forearm as he yanked the lash from the man with all his Elyrien strength. Bringing his sword up in a sharp motion that would keep the fool from spilling his blood on the keen edged blade. Saroth brought it down sharply with a bit of his Green jewel's power to shatter the shield. The pommel smacking the man on top of the head with the hope of knocking him senseless. But the warrior wasted no time. Cutting the rope from the landen horse's neck, the Warlord wasted no time in hogtying the man. Making damn sure it was uncomfortable. For good measure, he tore the man's Jewel from him and his shirt. The first went into Gen's own pouch, the latter was fashioned into a gag and shoved into the man's mouth.

One problem taken care of, Gen sheathed the sword and tossed the lash to the side. Turning towards the Jeweled Healer with a slow motion. [color=FireBrick]"Easy there, Lady-o. I'm here to help with what I can if you'd let me."[/color] He gave the mare a boyish grin, as his voice remained in it's 'soothing' tone. Something that only worked on Razor Tongue when she had a traumatic loss of a patient. Works on Ashke, it ought work on a terrified mare. Slowly he gently touched the mare's shoulder, hoping those hooves wouldn't lash him or his prisoner. Slowly he worked the ropes about her free and dropped them to the ground. Keeping himself talking either to ease his nerves or the mare's he wasn't sure. [color=FireBrick]"Gen Saroth's mine name. That sorry sod over there is going to pay for hurting you, dear. I know you're some sort of Healer, or I hope I'm not misreadin' something and insulting you. But I've got a Healer friend as well, she'll see to it he gives us every ounce of information, then make sure he can never hurt another. You can come along, and I'd rather you did. Ashke can look you over, help you deal with what that bastard did. Lest, you got some place you gotta be?"[/color] He slowly back away, keeping himself between the mare and her tormentor. Not exactly a smart place to be. But he [i]did[/i] want Fae to take a look at the man. A look then some. Shattering a jewel was cruel business.

[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=Olive][center]Ravyn Ghosteye[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
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[center] [b][color=Olive]Location:[/color][/b] Hyall
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Ravyn looked in shock as the man she had thought to first rob, distracted the slaver. Not merely that, but he had followed her into the alley and suggested she flee. Something she was intending to do anyways. There was no reason to stick about and face the backlash- literally- when she had what she came for. Though her own golden eyes widened when she spied the black jewel that hung from his neck. Her jaw dropping slightly. [color=Olive]"B-black..."[/color] She whispered, horrified she ever thought of robbing him. A near miss too many for this day.

Taking his advice to heart she gave a short nod to the man and turned on her heels racing down the alley and for the exit of the city. Hoping to catch a wind back to Dae Al Mon. That slaver would in no way dare to enter that territory. Her kin's witches were notorious for their tempers. She doubted they would let one sorry man like her oppressor in their borders. She'd just have to keep her head down. And that was exactly what she moved to do.