[center][color=crimson][h2]Xandar Markov[/h2][/color][/center]

[color=crimson][center]Location: Smuggler's den in town[/center][/color]

Xandar nodded, listening to the man as he spoke. He thought maybe asking him about what he had seen would be useful to the warlord prince, but it seemed he was nothing but a dead man trying to cling on to life. A sad existence really. He was going to be of no use to him, and while he had sympathy for those under an unjust Queen, it only got him so far. Besides, he wasn’t about to give the man any ideas.

[color=crimson]”Well, I hope that the afterlife treats you better than here. You can die happy knowing that Lady Marthea is going to repent soon enough.”[/color]

As soon as those words left his lips, his hand shot out in front of him and his sapphire jewel glowed in the dim light. A psychic blast shot from his hand, landing in the heart of the undead man and practically vaporizing him. It was also a direct hit on the jewel, the most important part, as the thing shattered and bits scattered to the ground. Xandar sighed softly, turning to Faeril. 

[color=crimson]”Well that was a waste of time. All that for a sob story. Come on, don’t rip your dress this time. Unless you wish to be carried. Or thrown.”[/color]

[color=SlateBlue]”Carry or throw me and it’s the last thing you will do.”[/color] The Black Widow snapped at the man her temper frayed by the realization that one of the Blood’s mysteries was true. The demon-dead had been rumored amongst the Hourglass Coven before but now… Shaking her head the Eyrien woman snipped in annoyance. [color=SlateBlue]”And I would hardly call his story such a thing. It’s a common one or are you so blind to what goes on?”[/color]

[color=crimson]”Oh so angry all the time are we? It was a fair question. If you plan on climbing up yourself then get a move on, will you? It doesn’t smell great down here.”[/color] Xandar chuckled as he ushered her to the ladder, groaning as he heard her complain more to him. Why did the woman have to be this way? 
It would be much easier if she coddled him and sucked his dick like the majority of women he met, [color=crimson]”Yes, the oh so common story of eating poor innocent people to save his poor miserable life. Charming. Maybe I should have let him eat you too, I don’t get a thanks for keeping you alive anyways. It’s just expected of me now.”[/color]

Faeril’s wings rustled as she glared dangerously at Xandar. Why in the name of Mother Dark did she have to be around this irritable male?! Her lads were well mannered if a bit overbearing and Jandar proved to be a likeable enough fellow. [color=SlateBlue]”I am hardly angry all the time. I’m merely surrounded by muscle bound fools, most of it!”[/color] A underhanded compliment that Faeril would deny giving. [color=SlateBlue]”The face remains he was the first demon dead that I’ve seen! There were things that I could have learned from him about that-”[/color] She grasped for the word finding the phrase ‘phase of the Blood’ unnerving as their own death was carefully courting them. A wrong move could bring their little resistance to the end and broken on the orders of the Queens desperate to keep their power.

[color=crimson]”Yes, and if it wasn’t for this muscle bound fool you’d be dead or worse. Or, at the very least, without wings or fingers.”[/color] He muttered, his blood steadily boiling as he rustled his own wings, spreading them out long and wide and flexing them out. It was a natural habit and a show of dominance when in a squabble, showing just how large the Eyrien really was. There were few people who could simply get on his nerves that he couldn’t easily intimidated or beaten to submission. She was a rare case. Beautiful, smart, and important to stay alive. And also a bitch. [color=crimson]”Well if you so whole-heartedly wanted to learn, maybe I should have let you get eaten and you could have asked him yourself while he feasted on your corpse. Maybe you could have found out first hand, huh? Speaking of death, I’m much more concerned by the death trap you sent our friends in than some science experiment, frankly.”[/color]

[color=SlateBlue]”It’s not a trap.”[/color] Though Faeril didn’t seem quite certain of her own words. [color=SlateBlue]”It was something that the Queen must do. If we cannot convince him, then all is already lost. Besides, I can handle a rotting corpse well enough- I deal with you do I not?”[/color] She brushed away her own discomfort with a snipped insult towards Xandar.  

[color=crimson]”Oh bullshit, that it isn’t…[/color] His words stopped dead before he heard the words… convince him? He got seriously angry, practically wrapping his wings around the both of them as he stood up close to Faeril, looking down upon her. [color=crimson]”You mean to tell me you sent them out their to negotiate with HIM? Of ALL people? That isn’t a death trap, that’s a death sentence. He works for the worst Queen of them all, they’ll be killed in seconds, or worse. And you want him on our side? I half half a mind to fly there right now and level that whole city just to get them out…”[/color] Xandar grumbled, turning away from Faeril and grabbing a large wooden beam that was broken off. He split it with his bare hands, ripping it in half and launching the pieces into the opposite wall. Burn marks charred the broken pieces, and it was clear the Warlord Prince was getting a bit heated. 

Faeril glowered and drew her wings in tight as Xandar went on his tirade. As much as she wanted to argue, she couldn’t exactly say he was wrong. But there were things at work that she couldn’t admit. After all, the oversized brute learning he had been wrapped into a spell to gather a Court about Fatima. [color=SlateBlue]”It is necessary. I told you it is not our place to intervene in that meeting. The web drew her forth, and Fatima must make the choice. I know my Craft.”[/color] Growled the Black Widow defensively, feeling the undercurrent of anger off Xandar. An angry Warlord Prince wasn’t to be trifled with lightly. Her wings flaring wide as he turned about to take his frustration out on a rotting beam. [color=SlateBlue]”The pieces are moving.”[/color]

The angry warlord prince took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down a bit and not let his anger out. After all, they were in hiding. If he did anything too rash he would surely attract some unwanted attention. But still, this was an impossible situation and there was nothing he could do but sit around and watch it all unfold. He wanted to be the one making changes, doing the work that needed to be done. He felt… powerless. [color=crimson]”This… this better work out, for your sake and for mine. If I sense so much as a bit of trouble I’m burning that village to the ground and nothing is going to stop me. As much as I hate and don’t trust the majority of them around my Queen, I’ll need to trust them, I suppose.”[/color]

Xandar brushed past Faeril as he took a standing leap all the way up the ladder, landing inside the house as he took a few steps out into the open. He saw a wandering viper rat and walked up to it, punting it several hundred feet into the distance and out of sight, surely rupturing all of its internal organs. [color=crimson]”I fucking hate rats.”[/color]

The softer beat of Faeril as she slipped from the open trapdoor and landed before the hearth of the house where the demon-dead had sought shelter. A bit of spellwork would go unnoticed, she figured. Hearing the death cry of a rat, she huffed an annoyed breath. The irritating, puffed up… Turning she gave Xandar a chiding look. [color=SlateBlue]”The mighty Reaper hates rats… Lovely to know. And yes, you’ll need to trust us. We all have the same goal in the end. Save for your obsession for courting death.”[/color] What else would he call cuddling her in that damn bed? Or the constant battles he got into? So typical of a Eyrien Warlord Prince! His mother probably wanted to rip his wings off when he was a youth!

[color=crimson]”Yes, the Reaper hates many things and wishes to slaughter even more. But one of the things the Reaper hates more than anything is stuck up, know-it-all, quick-witted women like you who walk around and just bitch up a storm. Bitch at me, bitch about this and that, bitch about the world. I fucking get it, and it’s old. I’ve lived a long life, and I obsess over death because it’s all I know. It’s been killed or be killed. Strength or weakness. You killed to live, you killed for what you believed in, all problems ended in violence. I don’t care how smart or wise someone is, if that man wants them did he’ll make it happen. True strength is what runs this world…”[/color] Xandar said very angrily before his tone softened, and he turned away towards the horizon. He bit his lips, thoughts and memories flooding his head before closing his eyes.

[color=crimson]”This… isn’t the life I wanted. Not by a long shot. I just wanted a better world for my people. For all of us. And I had to be strong for them. For me. But now? I’ve been running, hiding, for years from the likes of them. And now I get a bit of hope, and the one man with a darker jewel than me is face to face with her? What am I supposed to feel? Relieved? At this rate it might be easier to live out the end of the world on an island like my comrades. A few moments of peace.”[/color]

Faeril studied Xandar and gave a sigh, moving to pat the taller Eyrien on the arm. [color=SlateBlue]”No one wants the life of a rogue, except those deranged or mad or totally uncaring of the Blood’s honor.”[/color] The words were practiced and soothing from Faeril’s years of mending hearts and minds, but there was an awkward stilt to her words as the Black Widow continued. [color=SlateBlue]”I bitch because I’ve wrapped myself in my own armor. Our years are harder and longer than the short-lived races and I envy them their lifespans in these troubled times. I watched the Queen’s decimate the Hourglass and my own family. No one wants to see what Dorothea has been doing. And so I dream and call and weave. I doubt that anyone wants to be Hyall’s whore either, to a bitch whose tastes are more than the Queens we have met.”[/color] Turning she walked back towards the ruins. [color=SlateBlue]’And you forgot ‘outdated’ in your description of me.”[/color]

Xandar stiffened up at the pat but relaxed a bit, the heat released from his body as he listened. He knew she was right, everybody had all their problems with this Queen, all had hardships, and it would take all of them to do it. He couldn’t do everything on his own anymore. Trusting and relying on people is what got him hurt in the first place, but, maybe it’s what would heal him after all. Only time would tell, and he would just have to wait to see how this all panned out. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he walked next to her. [color=crimson]”Perhaps that’s true. But, maybe I’m a bit old fashioned myself.”[/color]

[color=SlateBlue]”Oh, really. I couldn’t tell.”[/color] Drawled Faeril as she paused before the hearth again, pulling a small square of wood and a ball of string from a pouch at her waist. [color=SlateBlue]”Do you require something, or can I do this without interruption? I doubt I need to give you the lecture that I do not require an escort again.”[/color]

[color=crimson]”Yeah, funny. The last time I believed that, it didn’t end so well.”[/color] Xandar dusted off a rogue chair that was somewhat intact and put it against the wall, sitting down with a huff as he pulled up the hood of his cloak. [color=crimson]”Look, I’ll just nap peacefully here while you go about your business. You won’t even know I’m here.”[/color] said the warlord Prince, before pulling up a sight shield and effectively disappearing from sight.