[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=8519A2]Location: Winton[/color][/h3]
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The little old woman who ran the small tavern-inn gave Sybl a slightly irritated look. Everyone in Winton knew about their Lady's kept man or thought they did. The rumors were fast and furious about what Prince Sybl had done in other towns and villages and what services he offered, which were whispered and openly talked about and spanned from one end of the spectrum of jobs to the other. Having returned from her own trip to restock the small tavern that gave those who rented rooms above a decent place to eat, the tiny woman huffed and slid a steep glass of scotch to the man. The rest of the bottle was left on the counter as the woman retreated to the kitchen. Allowing her guests the run of the main floor, and keeping herself out of any souring conversation. Two Eyriens getting their hackles up was a plain warning to the fact trouble could very well be going down.

Gen and his brother exchanged slightly annoyed looks, Bellinar had disappeared again and while they were concerned as to what their brother was doing the pressing matter of Sybl's presence was a looming threat to the Queen they had pinned their hopes upon and their dear friend. But an agreement was reached and Gen, still riding a bit of a foul mood, sauntered over to lean against the wall at the foot of the stairs lest the Warlord Prince attempt to go up them and discover Faeril. Denvar, who was far more sociable, stepped back to allow Fatima to be seen and to see those about her better. Straying over towards Sybl, a Warlord Prince he could not be sure of.[color=Tan]"So you are here to act a guide... Generous of your lady. What sights do you recommend?"[/color] A slight cover to allow the others to gather themselves.

But a thought seemed to knock upon the outer shields of Fatima's mind. The place where surface thoughts and ideas were obvious, for the deeper in the mind one went the further into the self of the person they invaded. Learning more and more personal things. To invade another's mind was the Craft of the Black Widows, but any member of the Blood who had power enough could do it. The effects of what they could and would find varied. [color=SlateBlue]"[i]I have been confined to the upper levels apparently. Gen informs me-[/i]"[/color] There was a troubled feel to the Eyrien woman's tone as she spoke on a distaff thread, woman to woman, with the Queen. A reluctance and almost apologetic thread wormed into the mental words but slight humor broke the edge off them. [color=SlateBlue]"[i]That we have a guest who is of the Court of the Queen of Winton. He's not First Circle, is he? Though, another matter requires your attention and judgment."[/i][/color] There was the source of Faeril's trouble as she relayed what she had learned of Dareen. The Black Widow quite obviously was torn as she was indeed furious at what had been done to her sister and knowing it had been on some level survival on Dareen's part. There was no room for forgiveness, not yet but perhaps in time.