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[h1][b][i][color=Gold]Rhys Asher[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/378688333867646976/422255485312565259/df0f62f8c2142e8ad9d0dec68836d9f6.png[/img][/center]
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[center][color=Gold]Location: Esmeralda's shop[/color][/center]
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[color=Gold]"So his name is Fayard..."[/color] The Rogue Wizard mused as he studied the furious Witch. She was angry and rightfully so, but he couldn't help but be a bit irritated she wasn't answering his questions. Still gripping the palm reader's wrists fast the man growled deeply. [color=Gold][i]"Reading of your thoughts, to find the boy I into my home I brought."[/i][/color] If this didn't work then he'd get the answers he sought another way. His eyes were cold as the spell began it's work. Showing him facts he wished he could erase from his mind as he let the Disguise Spell end. 

Fayard, Badger... The boy was [i]his son[/i]. [color=Gold]"My son. Esmerelda. You left my [i]son[/i] with your good for nothing brother."[/color] The dangerous tone of his voice was a sharp hiss as he whispered into Esmerelda's ear. His other hand wrapping about her throat as they tightened. [color=Gold]"Tell me he is alive so I can kill him myself."[/color] He snarled, shoving the woman off him and standing as he released Esmerelda's throat and shook her like a rag doll. Keeping her wrists in his grasp, the Wizard shoved his hand through his hair as he let out a too soft sigh. [color=Gold]"Close your shop for the day. I'll take you to your son, stupid wench. [i]Our son[/i] has the Sicknesse. Something I have been trying to cure."[/color] He hissed, his green eyes dark with fury, a clear warning the woman would be wise not to test him. Not after this.

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[h1][b][i][color=Lavender]Skaoi Silverveil[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://www.tribute.ca/news/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/galadriel1.jpg[/img][/center]
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[center][color=Lavender]Location: Infirmity[/color][/center]
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Skaoi gave Lyra a quick nod of her head. [color=Lavender]"Please, inform her. It would not do for this Sicknesse to continue to spread. Anything we can do to stem this horror."[/color] The woman quickly turned her attention back to her patient, concern fixed over her pale features. Pulling out a handkerchief she gently dabbed at the tears. [color=Lavender]"If it is any conciliation, it appeared to be fast and he didn't- It was quick. He did not linger."[/color] Death was never pleasent, never pretty. But the poor lad out in the hall had gone quickly and didn't waste away in an agony like so many about infirmary. Her thoughts were disrupted as Princess Luna came in and apologized.

[color=Lavender]"Princess this is an infirmary, I would request that you bath and change before you enter again."[/color] The Physik practically order with a tone of deference in her voice. She was correct as the infirmary was a place for sanitary, which vomit wasn't. As she watched the woman walk away she pressed the tea cup into Prince Tristan's hand and raised it to his lips. [color=Lavender]"Drink."[/color] The woman advised as she busied about brewing together a slight compress for shock. Talking almost absently to herself, if it wasn't for the fact her pale eyes were holding Tristan's fast. [color=Lavender]"That was not a request, Your Highness. I can work and make you better but only if you follow my routine. I can fix many things, but I cannot fix what truly hurts now."[/color] Laying a hand on his shoulder, Skaoi pressed a wet cloth to the lad's forehead. [color=Lavender]"Please rest, but do not encourage or use magyk."[/color]

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[h1][b][i][color=CadetBlue]Grimspound[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/657d7391a50b11712cac5c306f4a350b/tumblr_ooksq5OF9a1tmko9vo1_540.gif[/img][/center]
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[center][color=CadetBlue]Location: Aricie[/color][/center]
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The waves rolled and lapped at the sides of the ship as the [i]Aricie[/i] plowed through the waters, her sails snapping in a breeze that smelled of salt and brine. Perched on a barrel near the rail, a book in a slim fingered hand that would belong to an artist rather than a warrior a young man studied the contents of the pages. Or pretended to. The bits and snippets of gossip flittered past like the spray of the sea. It was hardly a appropriate place to read a book, but he had sent a spare back home to his mother's clan. Plus, it was a fairly common book written by a sub-par author. It was the mind of the author- the sheer stupidity of this man- he was trying to wrap his own about. All his other books, better reads by far!, were below in the hold within his trunk. Needless to say Grimspound was grateful for the cries of gulls and the relieved sigh of those who were not so at ease with sea voyage.

Looking out over the rail with his deep green eyes, he stretched his neck and listened to the bones pop in relief. His name was Jazen Grimspound Dyrki of the Dyrki Clan. A group of women- and those men who were born into the family- who lived in the Land of Long Nights. A land that was as harsh as their ancestors. His grandmother was still a creaking old woman who was far too fast with her cane in hand then she had right to be, according to his mischievous cousins. The matriarch of the clan, the old woman had been the midwife at his birth. Not to mention she had been the one to prod him to go to the 'Small Wet Country'. He ached to feel earth beneath his feet again and though that could be achieved quite easily, he didn't want to scare the other passengers. He was not like them.

He would never be like them.

His auburn hair had begun to darken years ago, as childhood left him, turning to black. It was not a uncommon thing, a few distant cousins and people he had met in his travels hair shifted darker during the winter months or with age. Amused with the thought, Grimspound considered what he would look like with silver hair for a minute. A old, stern man striking a formal and most definitely regal pose. Of course he wouldn't have one those ridiculously long beards. Though it was an entertaining thought. Snapping his attention back to the book, the man rubbed his hand and felt young skin and saw black hair still fall through his fingers. For all he had mastered shape-shifting, it was not wise to tempt fate. Yet a friendly, if slightly cocky smile graced his features as he stored the book in jacket pocket. Small enough to fit. Fit enough to burn- though he wouldn't. Such a thing would be utterly foolish.

Standing, the man peered at the approaching Port. [color=CadetBlue]"A port at last, and here I was thinking of growing fins and making a life amongst the fishes."[/color] His voice was a soothing jest that was spoken more to himself than anyone else as he studied the approaching land in earnest. What would await him. What knowledge could he obtain? Already his collect was quite extensive, yet he wasn't satisfied. He wanted to know more, [i]see[/i] more. It was a urging he could not deny. Power? It was useless without knowledge. Knowledge would grant tenfold the power. Of course that was a scholar's point of view, but Grimspound was a scholar was scholar if nothing else. Letting an arm dangle over the railing, he yanked up a small palm of salt water through magyk inherited from his father. For all he was an adult, it still fascinated and amazed him. Slowly drops spilled away til he was left with one the size of a large marble and fixed it between two hands. Shaping it to mist, water, ice and back again. Swirling the streams about like needle work as he had done when he was younger during long winter months. Absently he let the water twisted and turn as he wandered the paths of his mind bits of light reflecting off the surface into small rainbows when the liquid caught it right. Listing off what all he had heard of the Small Wet Country, and was hearing from the conversations about him.