[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/de966543-8dd7-40db-87a4-c04aba35b068.png[/img][/center]
Roan’s chest burned, the gaunt and frightened prisoner reluctant even to breathe in the midst of a standoff with a hostage-bearing Inquisitor. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing; no way this bitch was actually [i]taunting[/i] an Inquisitor! If the situation wasn’t so tense, Roan might have actually laughed - with balls like that, maybe she really [i]was[/i] the general’s daughter. 

To his credit, the purple-haired hostage was taking it like a champ. His bluff didn’t seem to have worked, but he was keeping his cool much better than Roan would have in his shoes, especially considering that Roan himself saw absolutely no way out of this that kept everybody in one piece. Sun and stars, he felt so helpless! Not that he was ever some combat master to begin with, but at least with magic maybe he could have done something more than twiddle his thumbs while Lyra gambled with a dude’s life!

And time was running out. Without magic, Roan struggled to hear much over the thundering of his own pulse in his ears, but even he could hear reinforcements making their way down to their level. Hasgad’s trap was snapping shut fast, and as far as Roan knew, that was their only egress point. 

Some kind of silent communication must have passed between his rescuers then, because all of a sudden, the room burst into a flurry of motion. Lyra rushed forward screaming a spell, and flames erupted in Hasgad’s direction; meanwhile, the hostage went flying to the side, and Roan himself hit the deck as an intimidating wave of heat flashed back at him. 

He covered his head on instinct, falling into a protective pose - or a cowardly fetal position, depending on your point of view. From there, having lost track of the confrontation in the chaos and powerless to do much about it anyway, Roan shouted a warning: [color=396BD4]“Watch the door!”[/color]

[right][sub][/sub][/right]