[color=834df1][center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/97/fc/fa/97fcfa021a493ced7e51bd9dd9f2393f.jpg[/img]
[h3][color=834df1]Phardax the Ebon[/color][/h3][/center][/color]
[hr][center]0 / 6 [color=834df1] Stress [/color][color=834df1]||[/color] 0 / 9  [color=834df1]  Wicked XP [/color] [color=834df1]||[/color] 0 / 3 [color=834df1] Reckless XP [/color][color=834df1]||[/color] 1 / 2 [color=834df1] Dark Hearts [/color][/center]

The cries of battle intermingled sonorously with the screams of fear. As Phardax crested the small rise that his compatriots had stormed over to assault the goodly host, he saw the mess they had gotten themselves into. As the Succubi was detained and the Minotaur brayed into the air and charged, he eyed the landscape for any would-be escapees. Darc's position with a rowdy Dwarf on top of him made Phardax laugh, making him loathe to try and halt the spectacle. It seemed his companions were having a spot of trouble and needed help with the stragglers. His eyes found their target once he spotted an old cantankerous Dwarf and a dark haired young woman fleeing for the hills. 

Dwarves made good thralls if you broke them young, working in conditions no Drow or Man could endure. But an elderly or particularly stubborn one wouldn't serve him if he threatened death on all of his clan in the name of honor or some such nonesense. Instead he opted for the woman. Whether or not she could be useful to them remained to be seen, but he knew she had just as much of a chance of dying in the wilderness as dying here. Why not gather himself his own personal pet to new dungeon? Perhaps she could clean his domicile or aid him with gathering spell components.    

Either way he had made his decision! Bounding over a few tumbled stones, he flourished his hand extravagantly, producing a whip of hellfire that hissed with steam in the mortal air. He flicked his wrist with a practiced ease, the whip encircling the helpless and very frightened woman like a constrictor snake. He pulled her in until she stood merely a pace away from him. He couldn't help giving a dashing grin, but he spoke softly and held a finger up. Perhaps he needn't cast a spell. 

"[color=834df1]As much as terror is a good look for you, you should be a bit more thankful.[/color]" He told her, and slowly undid the whip around her as he held her gaze. He held out a hand to her, still whispering in his debonair voice. "[color=834df1]I'm the only way you're going to live through any of this. Are you as smart as I think you are, or will you be food for my friends?[/color]"