[center]
[h2][color=8493ca]Azilon Dantanath[/color][/h2]
[sub]Husband of [color=98fb98]Rya[/color] [@Ellion] and [color=a187be]Lienna[/color] [@Obscene Symphony][/sub]
[sub]Interacting with [color=ed1c24]Morganna[/color], [color=sienna]Rynek[/color],  [color=98fb98]Rya[/color] and [color=a187be]Lienna[/color][/sub]
[/center]

There was no point in trying to pursue his sister in the moments that followed her outburst, Azilon forced to watch in silent fury as both of his brides were ushered away uncontested. For a moment, he suspected his father might have been behind such spite but a quick glance in his direction was enough to tell the young hermit otherwise. While Salazar had managed to maintain his facial composure, his eyes shone with a fire that gave away his distaste for the situation. Not only did it reflect poorly on Azilon, but on the entire Dantanath household.

Azilon relished at the thought of his sister finally being the one punished, but he knew better than to expect anything of it. Morganna could talk her way out of impending death, it was unlikely their father would ever get the chance to act upon his fury. Exhaling with a growl, the young man pushed his way through the remainder of the crowd out into the cold, damp night. While difficult to predict Morganna’s moves, Azilon reluctantly began his return to the family estate knowing it was his best chance to face the witch.

No words were spoken between father and son as the pair returned to the estate together, the silence harsh and unforgiving. Both men too proud to say a thing about the situation, trying their damndest to contain the anger they no doubt felt. Once they had arrived Salazar hesitated by the door, turning slightly as if he was considering saying something before he turned and retreated to his personal chambers. Heaving a sigh, Azilon collapsed into a chair in the main entertainment space. The household’s servant appeared from the shadows to light the fire in the room’s hearth only to be dismissed by Azilon before she had completed her task, leaving the man to brood in the darkness while the rest of the house slept… well most of it anyway.

~~~

The night seemed to drag on forever as sleep evaded Azilon’s grasp, nothing problematic but certainly no help to his already irritable mood. As the sun rose, the sound of Alice beginning her chores did as well though she made sure to keep her distance so as not to disturb the young master. He shuffled down to the informal dining space and turned his eyes to the hall as if expecting someone, wondering to himself if Morganna still followed her old habits from when he still lived with the family.

Somewhat to his surprise, Morganna appeared as if on cue, quick to lock onto his position in the room.

“[color=ed1c24]I’ll take my usual breakfast then you may be excused to cleaning duties. It would seem little Azzy here has something he would like to discuss with me.[/color]” Alice nodded her response and exited the room as the siblings locked eyes, neither quite willing to be the first to step down and look away. Even as Alice came shuffling back in with Morganna’s breakfast it was clear that neither sibling had inched from their spots in the room though it wasn’t to last much longer. Almost as if Morganna had lost interest, her body relaxed and she began to focus on the food that was brought to her.

While Azilon could not consider it a victory, he sure as hell was never going to admit it was a loss. Rather than dwelling on it, he pushed himself up from his chair and took a few angry steps forward.

“[color=8493ca]Where do you get off meddling in my affairs?[/color]” He snapped, though he wasn’t entirely surprised that his anger was met with a look of absolute indifference. Morganna cared little for what she had done to him, and there was little Azilon could do to change that. Still, he required answers… She was going to answer for what she had done to him the night before, one way or another.

“[color=ed1c24]I don’t know what you’re getting so upset about. I did you a favor, you should be grateful.[/color]”

“[color=8493ca]Grateful?! Those girl belonged to me, they were not yours to give away.[/color]” Azilon clenched his hands into fists, an action noted by a lazy shifting of his sister’s eyes. It seemed that nothing he could do would faze such a woman. She knew him better than he probably knew himself… even if they hadn’t seen each other in years. 

“[color=ed1c24]True, they weren’t… But Azzy, let’s be serious here. Were they ever truly yours to begin with? Clearly neither one held any sort of respect for you. When danger presented itself and your claim over them threatened, the one came begging to me while the other couldn’t stop lusting over your competition.[/color]” He bared his teeth at her words, watching with ever growing irritation as she calmly sipped at her tea. What she liked in such a vile substance was a mystery to him, but he had no time, nor the patience, to ponder that question this morning.

“[color=8493ca]And that gives you the right to just hand them over without a fight?[/color]” While he knew better than to get into a fight with his elder sister, his anger was rather high for him to be making sound decisions. In one of these momentary lapses, the young drakkan dared take a step forward in silent threat to the woman he quarrelled with. A mistake on his part, however, as his movement was met with the sharpest glare he had ever experienced.

Morganna was no fool, she knew not to let her guard down even around family members. Azilon, despite his usual lazy demeanour, was not completely incompetent in a fight. Still, her glare was enough to remind him of where he was and who it was he was dealing with. Fighting off an aggravated sigh, Azilon backed off a few paces before reclaiming the seat he’d been in prior to her arrival. 

“[color=ed1c24]Azzy, you found the one wandering around without a husband and the other one was just about forced down your throat by the royals. I’ve known you long enough to be certain that you share no interest in gaining brides, considering you’ve easily earned three and have never shown up to claim them. I worry about you sometimes, little brother.[/color]” As much as he didn’t want to admit that his sister was right, she did have a habit of making points he didn’t want to think about. When presented an opportunity to prove himself as a warrior, no, as a man, he found himself undermined by two meager brides. Azilon began to relax at this, allowing Morganna to continue on without interruption. 

“[color=ed1c24]I can’t exactly blame you though, now can I? You spend a lot of time away from the masses, it’s no surprise you haven’t noticed. With the King no longer making public appearances, it seems the brothers are experiencing some kind of power struggle. They’ve done their best to keep things quiet and behind the scenes but it’s starting to bubble over and the people are noticing.[/color]” He watched as Morganna drained the rest of her cup, a shiver of disgust running through his body as he remembered the foul taste of the tea she seemed to love so much. 

“[color=ed1c24]This year’s Reaping was less about celebrating the King’s victory and more about maintaining the political relationships between the royals and the families. Imagine how nervous you must make them having earned such prizes and not collecting on any of them. It means they owe you, and that makes them squirm. Favors are a powerful tool in war… ah but it hasn’t come to that just yet.[/color]” Azilon made a sound of disapproval as Morganna spoke, turning his eyes away in response.

“[color=8493ca]Maybe another war wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It’ll give the vultures something to focus on besides me. Father too.[/color]” Morganna sighed, raising an amused eyebrow at his situation.

“[color=ed1c24]Ah Azzy, whatever am I going to do with you? Listen, do you think I would just hand off something that valuable without knowing exactly who and where they were going to? While I cannot promise you won’t have to fight for them, I can give you the information on how to find them. The rest will be up to you.[/color]”

“[color=8493ca]And your price? I know better than to assume I’m getting this information for free.[/color]” Azilon countered, staring at Morganna suspiciously. In all the years he had known her, even the simplest of favors had come coupled with a price of some kind. While always fair in theory, it was often difficult to tell which scenarios had been orchestrated and which had tumbled down by chance.

“[color=ed1c24]Good boy, looks like I have taught you something after all. FInders, keepers... I want the one you were gifted. Sound fair enough?[/color]” Morganna’s smile reflected her usual deviancy, earning her a roll of his eyes. Did she always have to mock him like that?

“[color=8493ca]While I can’t possibly imagine what you would want with her, I suppose I can’t really refuse now can I? Fine, you have yourself a deal.[/color]” Without saying another word, Morganna lifted up a folded up piece of paper with directions to a place outside of the city. The man was quick to rise from his seat, leaving his sister behind without so much as waving a goodbye.

Azilon didn’t bother stocking up on anything, having not had put his blades away during the night. He rarely wore armour either, finding it rather useless and more of a hindrance than a help. Rushing out into the front courtyard, Azilon nearly barreled into a man about to knock on their front door, barely recognizing his face.

“[color=gray]Well, well, well. I had heard you made an appearance but I didn’t actually believe it until now. It’s been a long time Azilon.[/color]” It took the younger man a few moments to place the stranger as being a man called Argon. He could recall seeing his face every so often in the couple of years leading up to Azilon’s departure.

“[color=8493ca]Sorry, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. Alice! We have a visitor.[/color]” He shouted over his shoulder before stepping around the man, rounding the corner to a small open faced stable located in the enclosed courtyard. Untying one of the spares, Azilon mounted without bothering to tack the creature. Spurring him into motion the pair took off from the property at great speeds, turning out onto the main roads that would eventually lead him to the city limits.

Luckily for him, the early hours meant few bodies blocking his path though the likelihood of him slowing for them even if they were present was rather small. Still, with a clear path, Azilon’s time to the front gates was cut nearly in half, allowing him to reach the gates after a few minutes of hard riding. Once arriving he did slow to a halt, taking the time to survey the land stretching out before him. From his position, he could make out a small gathering of what looked to be tents off in the distance.

Morganna’s note had been rather detailed, much to his surprise, pointing him in the direction of the main road. The man she had handed his brides over to might have carried a family name with weight behind it, but the man himself was an exile. A mercenary for hire, he wasn’t exactly known for his loyalty to anyone other than himself. While he could not be sure of the man’s sense of honor, Azlion thought it better to assume he had none and operate accordingly.

After short mental preparation Azilon pressed onward, eager to reclaim that which belonged to him and return home. The pace was much slower this time, though, not wishing to alarm the camp ahead of his arrival. Whether it be his luck or their overconfidence, the lack of patrols were about to work in the angry drakkan’s favor.

Azilon dismounted away from the camp, instructing the well trained mount to stay put until summoned. Despite the desert sand’s knack for consuming sound, to be safe Azilon preferred to approach on foot. It also gave him a better chance at taking the group by surprise, something necessary if he was going to survive such an encounter. Sniffing the air, he detected the presence of a significant amount of water left over from the night’s storm. A cruel smile spread across Azilon’s features as an idea came to mind, the man drawing the hood on his cloak as he conjured what he could from the earth below him.

An unnatural mist descended upon the entire camp, chilling the air despite the rising sun beyond the horizon. Tendrils broke off from the mass of it, invading the all the perimeter tents but sparing the large one in the center. It made the most sense that his girls would be in the center one with the commander, after all, this particular group seemed rather simple. Slaughtering them wouldn’t be all that much fun.
He opened his mouth as if he were going to shout, but no sound came forth… or at least not an obvious one. Tapping into a trick that had earned him his title, Azilon began messing with the vibrations he was creating in the air in order to cause great discomfort to all in the immediate area. The sound was not easily detected to untrained ears, but those exposed to it would slowly begin to experience odd side effects. Their balance would begin to falter as the world around them shifted, their minds eventually led to play tricks on them.

Under better conditions Azilon might have been able to conjure nightmares in the mist to terrorize his victims, but here was not the place. All he needed was for the group of thugs to be off their game so that he could clear them out with little hassle. Granted it wasn’t nearly as satisfying, but he had better things to be doing than playing with children. Springing into action, Azilon made his way from tent to tent, slashing the throats of their occupants. The noise was enough to arouse several of the goons, however, they did little more than stumble towards him before they met their fates. Once he was sure that the minions had been disposed of, Azilon set his sights on the main tent in the center of the circle.

As he had suspected, his girls were in none of the perimeter tents leaving only one other place they could be… So long as Morganna’s information was solid. Allowing the mist to disperse on its own naturally, Azilon awaited the arrival of the leader, having no doubt in his mind that he had been roused by the noise. Rynek might not have been the best opponent but he was no slouch either. It was likely he knew of the invasion as it began, hadn’t kept him from hiding in his hole until the rest of the fighting had ceased though.

The snow-haired Drakkan stared down Azilon fiercely, clearly displeased at having been awoken in such a manner. No words were exchanged between the pair, however, taunts left behind; taunts contained to mere glances. Rynek readied his sword as Azilon removed the cloak he had been wearing, allowing the garment to fall to the ground before the pair lunged at one another.

Sounds of steel clashing against steel echoed about the encampment, a melodic beat created by the advance and retreat of both combattants. Somewhat a surprise to Azilon was Rynek’s speed despite wielding such a bulky weapon, but such a detail only egged the determined boy on. Every time their blades met it sent a shiver of excitement through Azilon, almost as if the fight had been destined to happen. Narrowly avoiding being slashed up his back, Azilon swing around and kicked Rynek square in the chest, sending him reeling back a few paces.

Again and again the two ran at each other, moving about the open space like a violent dance. But like all dances this one had to come to an end sometime. Ducking below a swing from Rynek’s sword, Az stepped lightly to the side, slashing his knife along the Rynek’s side. Azilon knew better than to assume such a blow was enough to end thing with this particular kind of man, he had to prove his superiority to assure he would not return for more. Over and over Azilon slashed at the snowy-haired bastard until he was left kneeling on the ground, the desert sand stained with the blood spilled by the exhausted man. With a look of disgust, Azilon kicked the man over to lay in a pool of his own blood before turning his gaze to the tent.

Backtracking to his cloak, Az snatched the cloth off the ground before he approached the large structure. He paused a moment before entering Rynek’s living space, opening his mouth to call out to the girls before a movement caught his eye. Coming at him from his left side was a tiny figure, Azilon too late to really react before it had reached him. Turning slightly so that no vitals were punctured, Azilon stared down blankly at a half-awake Rya.

Aside from a small bit of fatigue and a bored look behind her eyes, Rya looked to be physically fine. Mentally was another issue to tackle, but he wasn’t entirely sure he had found her in one piece the first time so he wasn’t particularly worried about it now. The pair stood in that position for a few moments before Azilon broke the silence.

“[color=8493ca]Whose idea was it to  let you play with the sharp objects?[/color]” He shook his head as he slowly reached down, removing the blade from his abdomen before tossing it over his shoulder. 

“[color=8493ca]Are you alright little Api? If that scum Lord has harmed you, I promise he has paid dearly for it.[/color]” Azilon said, as he kneeled down to get a better look at her. That was when he noticed Lienna out of the corner of his eye. Standing back to full height, he crossed the ‘room’ to where she lay naked on a pile of skins. A pitiful sight for such a creature, her clothes most likely the torn scraps scattered across the floor. Her porcelain skin was covered in red marks as well as discolored patches that Az recognized to be forming bruises. No doubt they would be nasty, but it made the picture quite clear to Azilon as to what had transpired.

“[color=8493ca]You look like complete shit.[/color]” Stooping down, Azilon wrapped his cloak around the girl before scooping her up in his arms. He didn’t give her much choice in the matter, though he doubted she had any fight left in her for the time being with how exhausted she looked. 

“[color=8493ca]Ever ridden a horse before Rya? If not, today is your lucky day. Come along, we’re going home.[/color]”

[hider=Summary]
Az has his convo with Morganna. Comes to the rescue!!!
[/hider]