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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: Wizard Tower Heading to Floor 21[/color][/center]
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Walking up the stairs was like a trip down, or rather up, memory lane for the rogue Wizard. Had he stayed he would have been a Ordinary Wizard bent over some book or other with his own apprentice to turn vile and wicked in the lad's time. Then again if he had stayed, his mentor's death would have been laid at his feet and well that wasn't something he had been willing to accept. The old bastard had it coming as far as Rhys was concerned. Even as old as he was and as cruel he could be he did hold a bit of tenderness towards the woman who had birthed him and his death had shattered the leash on his temper and will to accept second best.

Arya had gained the ExtraOrdinary Wizard's attention unfairly and unjustly. The little girl would pay dearly for her crime, and he would make sure of it. [color=Gold]"[i]Good for you, but that does little good as of right now. We will learn exactly who your mistress of chaos is, and gain control of the Wizard's Tower.[/i]" Rhys thought in a sardonic tone to the Elder God that had possessed him. Though it was perhaps not wise to do, there was a certain grim glee in Rhys's mind as he considered the wickedness he would cast upon the ExtraOrdinary Wizards. [color=Gold][i]"We gain a strong point from which to strike and the rest will fall into our laps.[/i]"[/color] Rhys reasoned with a grim amusement, moving towards the final level and hoping he'd be able to gain access. Already falling into the mind of bumbling Erin, the man had been a fool in the end.


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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]
[color=Lavender]Location:[/color] Manuscriptorium[/center]
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Skaoi mused about the Manuscriptorium, as she idly flipped through pages with a gentle carefulness. It would not do to bring the ire of the Head of this grand library when she needed answers. Her hands itched to get a hold of the man and examine the illness, though she never had to courage to actually approach the man about it. That would be a terrible breach of etiquette and being noble born, bred and raised and a Eastern Snow Plains native on top of that made that breach a even more terrible thing. At least to her eyes. That the man was respected and feared, also arguably hated, did not help things in the slightest. If he had been a lesser being she would have most likely dragged him off with many apologies and steam rolled the poor fool into a treatment. Of course, that would have been terribly rude too but she had the benefit of class.

So when a sullen youth in clothes too large for him approach her with a timidity that matched her own, Skaoi gave a sharp squeak of surprise before muffling it with a hand. The oppressive nature of the Manuscriptorium seemed to make even the slightest bit of noise a horrible sin to be shunned. Casting an apologetic look at the youth, the physik offered a fairly shaky apology. [color=Lavender]"My apologies, I was caught up in my research."[/color] Brushing the long strands of her silvery hair from her face, she mused about cutting the length. He hung to past her waist and was on it's way reaching for her thighs. [color=Lavender]"If you could, if it wouldn't be too much trouble? I am trying to find anything about this Sickenesse, the Burning Fever, the Sleeping Dead or any plagues made by Darke Wizards or Witch Covens. Perhaps even something denoting something flawed within Magyk itself."[/color] The Healer was more and more certain this had to do with Magyk and she was growing afraid. If all the Wizards were struck down, despite her efforts, what would happen then? The fact plague was weaponized in the past did nothing to ease her mind.

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[h1][b][i][color=CadetBlue]Grimspound[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://i.gifer.com/78JR.gif[/img][/center]
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[center][color=CadetBlue]Location: Wizard Tower - 20 florr[/color][/center]
[center][color=CadetBlue]Skills:[/color][/center]
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Moving through the broken glass, Grimspound grimaced at the former door though he had been of the mind of doing something potentially worse. Having yanked his temper back under his control the Dyrki man ran a hand through his slicked back hair, ruffling it slightly. [color=CadetBlue]"I wasn't going to share with the group I could do that."[/color] Grimsound quipped to Arnora as she perched in a chair next to the branded lad. [color=CadetBlue]"Let a man keep a few secrets, makes us more appealing to the ladies."[/color] He winked an emerald eye at the woman, as he considered the door. In truth, he had spoken true though there was also the fact that this bit was something that latent in many of his cousins according to family whispers and his grandmother had a fair few tales to tell of those who could do as he did.

Studying the rooms, he admitted whoever lived here had decent tastes. Though as the other two were speaking of healers he considered the man laying unconscious in one of the chairs. [color=CadetBlue]"I believe if a healer cannot aid him in removing that brand, I shall have to come up with something."[/color] He noted with a slight noise of irritation. [color=CadetBlue]"My apologies for making off with you, though if I had stayed... It would not have turned out as well as it did. I do not care for senseless mobs and even less for senseless cruelty. It has no place in this world."[/color] Perhaps he was a bit of idealist, perhaps he was naive. Either way, Grimspound had claimed that hill to die on and he would not budge.

Shaking his dark head, the man headed to the tower door and moved to grip the handle. If there was life on the other side? Let it come, he was in no mood for the games of others. [color=CadetBlue]"There is only one place for help to be and that is downstairs. Come, Ahote. Let us go before the troupe of guards show up inevitably asking about a green dragon or anyone named Pete or Puff. And if they do... For the love of my grandmother's good temper don't tell them it was me."[/color] Giving Arnora a cheeky salute, the man wrenched open the door and began his descent completely nonchalant or trying to appear so.

[center] [h1][b][i][color=Olive]Richard Laine[/color][/i][/b][/h1] [/center]
[center][img]https://media2.giphy.com/media/1qaUR30SNCkJ6om7QW/source.gif[/img]
[color=Olive]Location:The Palace[/color] [/center]
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The loud obnoxious voice of a child echoed down the hall as Richard guided his lady dragon towards a wedding they were supposed to be attending. Oh that hardly fazed the man. He had seen plenty of spoiled and loud children over the years, even had to deal with them when he had been at the X-Mansion back in the day. A few of those memories were painful twinges that had made him want to disembowel someone viciously. Perhaps that was wrong of him, but he had not been feeling kindly during those particular moments. Still he walked on, til he saw the faux fairy wings on the small child. Til he heard her list the twenty eighth was to behead someone.

[color=Olive]"No."[/color] He stated a firm voice and turned himself about in a one eighty and marched the other way quickly. Beating a most hasty retreat than was dignified. [color=Olive]"I've seen enough damn fairies for a life time."[/color] The man declared pointedly. While he did appreciate the woman- Lyra, he believed- for finding the egg of his daughter, it was not enough to keep him on that path to deal with another little fairy winged annoyance. Especially one that spoke of beheading. [color=Olive]"No."[/color] He stated again, picking up his pace.