[center][h2][b][color=silver]Lhirinthyl[/color][/b][/h2][/center][hr]
Noting the armored figure's injury, Lhirin nodded sharply in response to his words. He took in each piece of information without delay. Then the injured man was interrupted. Lhirin frowned, only half paying attention to the penin's words as he mulled over the first bit of explanation.

This was likely a separate issue from the bandits. Lady Bor's summons had--amusingly--attracted a summoner. How unfortunate.

Eyes snapping over to the penin, the deigan hybrid regarded the small old woman and found her suitably impressive for one of her status and stature. As she approached he noticed her kindly dismissal of her servants.

[i]Tough, but not unreasonable nor arrogant,[/i] he noted, before totally dismissing the other two humans and looking down at the Lady Bor. She spoke and he lapped up each piece of information she offered with avid interest. His smile returned as she mentioned wraiths--an odd reaction surely.

[i]'Wraiths!'[/i] he mused to himself, eyes alight with feverish interest. Lhirin's left hand reached down to his belt and unstrung his sheath from his hip. Grasping the handle in its construction, Lhirin took it in a reversed grip, the flat of the implement flush with the back of his arm. Its weight was a comfort.

[color=silver][b]“Mmm, Wraiths. I am familiar with their ilk, and their weaknesses,”[/b][/color] Lhirin's grin widened slightly and he chuckled--as if this were a small matter. Then his expression changed all at once, becoming piercing and intense once more. [color=silver][b]“I am Lhirinthyl, Ms. Lady Bor. Mage. Scholar. Enchanter,”[/b][/color] the words were clipped, perfunctory and he bulled on to his proper query, his former words a tacked-on phrase.

Idly, Lhirin channeled energy into his Runeblade and clearly--but quietly--uttered a single word in the arcane language.

[i]Sharpness[/i]

The bronze blade pierced the stone of the path and sank into the ground before he ceased the flow of energy, embedding it for a moment. Lifting a finger of his thin right hand--now freed from holding his blade--Lhirin tapped his head. [color=silver][b]"The Deo'iel Guide to Survival, very useful to have memorized,"[/b][/color] he said, his grin flashing through the intensity. Then he leaned down and forward slightly, becoming serious again. [color=silver][b]“The wraiths, [i]mmm...[/i]what manner of divines were summoned?”[/b][/color]

That said, Lhirin sifted through his sensory memories, noting that the riders had identified themselves...or this [i]Freagon[/i] had identified them both. He filed their names away for later, one of his fingers idly tracing the alphabetical symbols for their names in the empty air--no magic involved, just a sort of mnemonic device. One of many that he used.

While he waited for a reply--as little a wait as that may have been, Lhirin began to drum his fingers on the pommel of his runeblade's crystal handle. He was eager to get moving, but he would not go in unprepared. After all, while he was not cautious in the typical way of his kind, Lhirin [i]was[/i] fortunately a rather experienced traveler and adventurer. He'd had his fair share of dicey encounters and he'd learned from each-and-every one--though not always the typical lessons that another might learn.

Still, it was enough that his experience--and voracious appetite for knowledge--directed him to survey a situation and gather as many facts as he could [i]before[/i] throwing oneself into danger. Of course...he recognized that time was of the essence and that a thorough review of the facts could not always take place before an engagement. Still, this--for the moment--did not seem to be the case in their current circumstances. So, eager as he was, Lhirin did not act hastily but instead waited with bated breath for the Lady Bor's response.