[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]
[hr][hr]
[center]
[h3][color=SlateBlue]In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador[/color][/h3]
[/center]
[hr]

Faeril looked into the low dancing flames of the fire as Xandar fed it, her thoughts turning about the vision she had seen in her tangled webs. Those long nights she had spent weaving and casting her web out to draw a Court that could stem the flood of the corrupting influence by Hayll. A Court would form around and worthy Queen who could hold it, that had been given. Yet she had no way in telling what would happen when that Queen came across the Black Jeweled Warlord Prince. A figure there were as many rumors about that fathoming his reasoning would be akin to staring into the Twisted Kingdom of madness. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, the Black Widow wanted to slam her fury into the Kaeleer Dhemlan native for antagonizing one of the most powerful men in all the Realms.

As much as she wanted to give the orders, to direct their path as would be best in line with her visions, Faeril could not. Those choices belonged to Fatima now, their Grey Jeweled Queen. One of the darkest to come out of Hayll intact in centuries. Sipping from the cup, she made a strict point of not looking towards Xandar and a form that witches would fawn over. Which she for certain wouldn't! Drawing her wings tightly against her back, the Black Widow sighed in annoyance of their situation. What had they come to? [color=SlateBlue]"My reserves of power are lower than I would like."[/color] Faeril began, looking extremely disgusted at the fact.

[color=FireBrick]"Oh, really? We didn't notice when you fell on your ass. [i]Again.[/i]"[/color] Snapped Gennar out of character for the Warlord, but not unreasonable for someone whose guard was making sure the Healer didn't overdo it. Especially when that Healer was also a Black Widow and stubbornly set in her ways. Faeril falling after that feedback from her spell had hit her had scared the man shitless. He didn't like seeing his old friend so wounded, and even less when he could do little to help. The idiot woman kept pushing herself past what was reasonable. [color=FireBrick]"Ashke, isn't doing shit. She's exhausted herself twice over within a week."[/color]

[color=SlateBlue]"I can make my own decisions, thank you Gennar."[/color] The Widow's voice was as cold as her eyes as she glowered at Gen.[color=SlateBlue]"We may not have a choice but to rely on my powers. I do mean to rest for that time, and I do not squander my Craft as you so imply."[/color]

[color=FireBrick]"Healing the mind over a series of treatments, one infected wound, nearly getting your wings and snake-tooth cut off... Want me to continue? Oh, and casting an illusion for this little outing which fed back and slapped you down by the one who broke it."[/color] Gen snarled in reply, thoroughly annoyed by Faeril's stunts as of late. [color=FireBrick]"Can we get back to the matter at hand of what the Queen wishes to do, so Faeril can sleep."[/color] There was a noise of offended dignity as Faeril looked about ready to throw her cup at Gen's head.