[hr][hr][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/50VBWNfh/63507c917b644ae085a53d695ad43269.png[/img]
[img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/2fa3b68ea7ccb5e241580009fa3f8dfe/tumblr_nrjjdcXvK71uq1wtvo1_500.gif[/img][/center][hr][hr][h3][b][i][center][color=8519A2]Arc I - Terreille in Trouble[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h3]
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[center][h3][color=SlateBlue]Faeril Ashkevron[/color]
[img]https://img00.deviantart.net/57a4/i/2017/010/a/2/yennefer_of_vengerberg_by_nikivaszi-da82bef.jpg[/img]
[color=SlateBlue]Present Day
Location - Ashkevron Residence in Aren, Askavi[/color][/h3]
[color=SlateBlue]Interacting with[/color] [@13org]
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The Ice Healer, as some had nicknamed her, chuckled lightly. There was still a hardness in her blue eyes that gave made folk all to aware of the coldness she cloaked herself in. [color=SlateBlue]"I am well aware of your limitations in time, Prince Mikhail. No, your treatment will take time but it will not take so much you live out your life as my test subject."[/color] There was a wicked glint in the woman's eye as one corner of her mouth turned up into a sly smirk as she looked towards the door that opened up into the main hallway that ran through the eyrie. [color=SlateBlue]"I have Gennar for such things."[/color] She called with a slight edge of annoyance to her tone.

The said Eyrien Warlord lounged outside in the hall and was looking in with a face that was falsely innocent. [color=FireBrick]"Did you need something, Ashke? Or can I rescue that poor fellow from your clutches?"[/color] The witch looked disgusted with the man as she slid the web and it's container into a large cabinet that took up one part of the stone wall that was in actuality the mountain itself. Flicking her wings that rustled with a irritated noise, she flicked a hand is dismissal. Grinning Gen pushed his luck as he moved to lean in the door frame. [color=FireBrick]"Does this mean you're going to rest?"[/color]

[color=SlateBlue]"I do rest. Now shoo."[/color] Faeril's blue eyes narrowed at the larger Eyrien, her fingers poking him in the chest as the man merely arched a eyebrow. He was well aware he could have a snaketooth sink into his skin through his shirt and that would most likely be the last anyone ever heard of him. Still he just gave his younger friend a sweeping bow as she slipped away to begin another aspect of her labor. Most likely to tend to her garden, Gen hoped. It would do her good to stop spinning the tangled webs and seeking a hope that would come when it came. Turning his attention to Mikhail he offered that the Dea Al Mon follow him with a jerk of his head. [color=FireBrick]"Suppose you could probably do with some food after that? I'd make Faeril something to eat, but the woman would only toss it off the side of the mountain."[/color] Outright grinning, the protector of Faeril Ashkevron offered a hand. He had been there when Mikhail had come to the house but maintain the presence of a brooding and vicious Warlord. [color=FireBrick]"Gennar Saroth."[/color]

[color=8519A2]Winged Boar, Aren, Askavi[/color]
[@Slim Shady] [@Zoey White]
Denvar gave a slight nod as the Sapphire Warlord Prince nodded to him, offering up a name that made Denvar question the wisdom in letting him cross paths with [i]Faeril[/i]. While she wasn't family by blood, she was treated as such by his brothers and himself. So it was only natural that Denvar was worried about letting a Ebon-Grey Warlord Prince that could well wring his sister's neck without much trouble aside from what Faeril would do. Wincing at what Faeril [i]might do[/i] when faced with healing and aiding this man, Denvar nodded back as he fought to catch his breathe. He wasn't so young as to be a fool, but both his brother and he were older than Faeril in years. Mentally? He wouldn't lie. He was a randy youth who danced on folly's line a few times too many. One of the reasons he had been punted down here by a snarly Healer who was sick of him getting underfoot for trying to help.

[color=Tan]"Denvar."[/color] He offered in return. Xandar was not a common name, but it was a well known one. The twisted pets of Dorothea and Askavi's queen Ollirian were eager to catch the man alive. He had too much power to waste and would make a better trophy alive than dead. If he bent to their will? They would have a weapon that could even match the infamous Sadist potentially. But then Eyriens thought they could match anyone with their legendary arrogance. Looking at the woman, he prepared to cover the exit if need be and prevent escape. Though it was doubtful she would make it that far.

Randalvar, being a wise and thoughtful individual who was rather tired of building replacement furniture for his bar, subtly cast a Purple Dusk strength shield over his bar that only was a hairs breathe from the wood. A second shield blocked off the door that lead into the kitchens where his granddaughter was. Protective in his nature he was loath to let even a potential fight reach the last of his bloodline. "Might as well go with 'im, lass." He advised while placed a clean mug on the shelf behind him and began wiping out another one.

[color=8519A2]Root's Teeth, Dhemlan Terreille[/color]
[@SilverPaw]
The Prince said little more aside from nodding absently. It wasn't that the man was trying to be rude, but his misery was just so deep. There were a few like him, broken from within though their Jewels were still whole. As the Jandar finished with his meal the same witch did appear and quickly whisk away the remains. Given the amount of people in the inn, and the several other serving ladies and lads that were also acting in the same nervous manner, meals were streaming out of the kitchen just as fast as they could get the plates and utensils clean. While weather like this was not particularly good for the false business Jandar was about on, it was very good for the inn. They would sell many rooms and most likely spaces on the floor this night. 

The crowed let 'Jean' pass without much trouble save for the occasional shove back and cursed insult for his own rude passage. It was with luck that no one challenged the Warlord as he made his way after the maid who only appeared to grow more nervous as she noticed her tail. While fighting his way through the throng of bodies, Jandar might notice a man leaning by the hearth. His mop of black hair combed back away from a too pale face and a nose that had been broken before. A predatory smile gracing his lips as he smiled nastily towards the Kaeleer native. Though there was a sickening approval in the man's eyes.

The door to the kitchen was being opened and shut regularly so when the Warlord knocked it didn't take long for a older woman with stern features and wielding a ladle to open it. Her dress was stained and dusted liberally with flour despite an apron and her iron grey hair was pulled back in a tight bun. The White Jeweled cook regarded Jandar with cold gold eyes. "Can I help you, Lord?" Her voice was polite but terse and trimmed with an edge of fear. While he delivered his message, she studied him closer. Behind her Jandar would see a bustling kitchen with the heavenly smells of baking bread and stew to fill the air. Giving a annoyed sniff, the witch nodded slightly. "Thank you, but I would advise you leave my kitchen be. You are slowing us down." She snapped sharply before quite firmly shutting the door without slamming it. Startling several servers who had been hovering just out of reach while Jandar blocked the entrance to the kitchen.

One witch with a Opal whispered softly to Jandar as she squeezed by him to the door. "Don't mind Cook. She's just busy and you gave Alda quite the fright following her." Shoving a carrot into his hands under her tray, she gave Jandar a tired and weak smile. "Go feed your horse, and stay in your room before you attract the wrong sort of attention." With the last whispered word of advice the witch darted into the kitchen, as someone shouted within the domain of 'Cook'.

[color=8519A2]Queen's Residence, Eldan, Hayll[/color]
[@eclecticwitch]

A timid knock sounded on Fatima's door before a timid maid entered. While her mother had been a hard and demanding woman, Fatima was much easier to work with- for the most part. The young Queen was quite odd, but she was not cruel or over demanding like some of the other queens were in Hyall. Chewing her lip, Illyria stared at the bags that were partly packed while trying to figure out what exactly to say. It wasn't her place to say anything at all, but she had heard the plans while she had been sweeping out the hallway and well that just wasn't proper [i]at all[/i]!

"My Lady, I might know someone... Though, I beg you swear on your Jewels to never repeat this to a soul?" With large and frightened gold eyes, Illyria absent began to organize the packs. Her gaze darting between her task and looking up at Fatima. "It- You say you are travelling?" Randomly redirecting the conversation, the tiny maid was worrying her lip bloody with nerves "Where to? If I may ask that is? My apologies, but Lady we cannot lose you!" There was true fright to the maid as she gripped a tattered dress in both hands nearly wringing the poor thing lifeless. If it had a life to start with.