[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]10;00
Residence in Aren, Askavi[/color][/h3]
[color=SlateBlue]Interacting with[/color] [@Slim Shady] [@13org] [@Zoey White]
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[color=DarkKhaki]"You look as though you just woke up to seeing Faeril in one of her rages."[/color] Drawled an Eyrien as the front door opened and closed for the second time that morning, long minutes after Xandar had flown from the front garden. The man looked very similar to Denvar if it weren't for his shaven head and an old burn scar wrapping across his side. His jacket and shirt hung over one of the armchairs, drenched in what was hopefully water and absently soaking into the once pristine furniture. Crashing down on the couch next to Dareen the Eyrien raised a brow and grinned in a smile that was far from comforting. [color=DarkKhaki]"So what is a little Pruulish witch doing sitting on my sister's couch like her execution is nigh? I can promise you it most likely isn't. Fae's bark is worse than her bite."[/color] He mimed telling the small witch a 'secret'. [color=DarkKhaki]"The bite is poisonous."[/color] Laughing at his own joke the Eyrien Warlord Prince, [b]summoned[/b] a small chest and began to unloading it of books which he sorted into different piles. His Tiger-Eyed Jewel swinging absently.

Faeril who had been dozing woke with a start when the bench beneath her groaned as a Warlord Prince of a different Jewel sat down upon it. Her icy eyes glowering at the giant. [color=SlateBlue]"Smokes? Cigars you mean?"[/color] Rustling her wings the Healer roused and peered over her shoulder back at the kitchen where the larder she had brought out was indeed empty. There was food in the pantry but with the number of mouths to feed, it wouldn't hurt going down to Aren. While she wasn't one for stopping by the shops, Randalvar always kept a fair larder he could just hand off her 'brothers' for a bit of extra coin. [color=SlateBlue]"You should be resting and not flying about."[/color] She noted with a disapproving look even as she raised a hand to silence the Grey Jeweled male. [color=SlateBlue]"You are an Eyrien warrior. I already know the answer, just as I know if you call me 'Mistress of this fair home' so early again, I will enjoy reexamining your wound."[/color] Giving Xandar a pointed look, she yawned behind a hand before pushing herself to her feet. [color=SlateBlue]"I have need to speak to Randalvar, so I might as go with you to show you. Lest you fly into a mountain admiring yourself."[/colro] She snipped spreading her wings with a weary slowness as she walked through the garden to the fence boarding the edge of the cliff. [color=SlateBlue]"There is a store just down the street from the Winged Boar. You can find smokes there, and despite his temper, Randalvar would give you a meal that tastes better than Gen's coffee."[/color] Directed the Black Widow as she cast a downstroke with her wings that drove her into the air. Giving a nod to Mikhail who seemed to be touring her more functional gardens, the witch swooped about the eyrie before riding the eddies of wind in an easy glide towards the small village of Aren.

It was a mere fifteen minutes by air, and with a little extra speed granted by favorable winds. Lighting lightly on the ground, she dusted her gown free of the debris of the air to hide the slight stumble and gestured with a pointed finger towards a sign that read [i]'General Store'[/i]. [color=SlateBlue]"They won't have anything of real quality, though you might want to stock up."[/color] There was a queer note in her voice as she mentioned stocking up. Xandar would be fairly certain that either Faeril had plans or had seen something. Just as he would notice the jewel the witch was wearing was the Blood Opal and not the Red. Turning towards the tavern, Faeril paused to shift her wings. She would need to rest soon, but it was not the time for that. Not yet.

[color=8519A2]Winged Boar, Aven, Askavi Terreille[/color]
[@eclecticwitch] [@SilverPaw]
While Jassen was slow to back down as he harrumphed and took a step back, letting the Queen he served access to the grizzled old warrior, he was keenly aware of the rest of the Eyriens stirring and eyes watching. Randalvar on the other hand, gave the Queen an annoyed look though there was a glimmer of interest in his golden eyes at Fatima's earlier words. "Our land? You aren't an Eyrien, lass. Best remember that." He advised the woman with a deep chuckle. "Terreille isn't one land no more. It's scattered and broken."

"For the Queen's pleasure." Mocked one of the prior night's patrons.

Snorting at the quip, the old Eyrien shrugged his shoulders. "You want a tapestry? Go make some Landens make a gift of it. You want a story, demand one from some poor male." Eyeing Jassen and Jean with a weathered gaze as he considered the threat the two posed. "Though if you are looking for an interesting story to tell. Go to the eyrie high up the side of the mountain." Readjusting his grip on his bladed stick, Randalvar considered if the Black Widow would gut him for this intrusion. But if they could snip away a Queen who was trying to hide being a Queen? Was the risk worth it? If it wasn't, she would come back with no memory of the Ashkevron residence. Or not come back at all. "And go alone, unless you want to coat this mountain in blood." He rumbled deeply, the patrons about him rousing slightly. Jassen glared and moved to step in front of Fatima again.

"We'll keep the lads entertained." Noted one of the patrons with a bit of amusement and sadistic glee.