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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=E3485D][b]Location:[/b][/color] Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis[/right][/sub][/color][hr]
It took a moment for Pythia to calm herself after Etolie made the suggestion to do so. 

“If he dies, he dies” wasn’t a particular moral sentiment, but if she was expected to babysit a grown man in a dire situation like this, she couldn’t think of a better point-of-view to take. She looked closer, back towards the diagram, as Etolie began to explain that she couldn’t track magic very well. It was a strange thing to hear, but Pythia didn’t know her life story and she doubted she was born into a situation of necessity to hone certain skills.

Etolie’s suggestion of drawing the enemy out with something [i]valuable[/i] and [i]important[/i] made her clutch firm on her sword. Without it, Pythia was defenseless, but inside she knew there was nothing anybody had that was more powerful or recognizable than the Sword of Judas. The legendary sword of the Nsiferium Dynasty. Her eyes locked onto the blonde’s movements as she inspected the rest of the party for items until her hand pricked Pythia’s sword and her magic had a virulent reaction in kind.

Then came her question.

How willing was she to give up her weapon and foci, if only for a few moments? Pythia considered it, but she needed more technical information.

[color=E3485D]“What’s your plan, exactly?”[/color] She uttered, holding tightly to her sword. [color=E3485D]“I’m not going to abandon my foci.”[/color]



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