[center][h2][b][color=#d31c0a]Deo’Irah[/color][/b][/h2][/center]


Irah considered Yanin’s words, weighing them carefully in her mind over the few seconds it would take her to respond. The simple truth was that too much remained a mystery for them to make any proper judgements or plans–they would have to observe what was happening and make a decision then. It made her uneasy, in truth–she was comfortable with following orders that she could see the sense of, that resonated with her own values. The voice of Freagon adding an offer to simply slay the thing was thoroughly discordant with her own opinions, and her eyes narrowed softly as her smile soured very slightly at the corners of her mouth.

[color=#d31c0a][b]“[i]If[/i] being the crux of things. We simply do not know what we will face, and we will have to make a judgement swiftly. Perhaps the magical disruption we felt earlier was the traces of a previous aura fading… The vials of piaan were found here, it would be reasonable to assume that she summoned the divines here… There are far too many variables: the Melenian’s resistance, the spell she used, the realm and deity they belong to (where applicable). She might have summoned a divine into herself to better steel herself against the silvered swords of these misguided zealots. If the opportunity presents itself for this to be ended by a conversation, we should take it–if not, they must be slain and banished from our world. I will defer to your best judgement.”[/b][/color] Irah replied to Yanin, mien thoughtful and words chosen quickly but carefully. Her coy smile returned somewhat, gaze steeled towards the first door as she took her position beside Lhirin. Ordinarily she might protest more, but her thoughts drifted back to the bandits and the abducted healer. Time was against them, and she would endeavour to save as many lives as possible. The Melenian might not be able to be saved at all–if she [i]had[/i] died, the divine energy would likely have forced her to accept the Wanderer’s invitation to realms beyond. The cries certainly didn’t sound feline, though–she suspected that the Melenian had, indeed, perished here and what remained was an invitation. Less to heal, she supposed, though the tragedy of it pulled at her heartstrings–so much life and potential wasted, all for the fervour and lack of open mindedness of a few poor actors… but she could not get distracted. The posturing was ultimately pointless, as they would know only as soon as they opened the door and no sooner. 

[color=#d31c0a][b]“Thalks revel in deception, and a stronger will appears to have been guiding these Frentits to ambush us–and it is common for Thalks to lay multiple traps, knowing that opponents will be more disarmed after the first. I am uncomfortable with death as a first resort, but… If it will save more lives, so be it. We are wasting time and there are still the bandits to deal with.”[/b][/color] Irah added on, speaking again after Freagon had approached more closely. She noticed the way he rotated his sword very clearly, the little glints of light dancing along its surface visible in her periphery. His stance read as displeased to her, the twisting of his sword both for the purposes of minimising the gentle drops of blood that she could hear hitting the floor every now and again, and for an outlet for his restless energy. He’d not reacted the way the others had at her exposition, though his unmoving face made it difficult to tell–it was only through his movement that she could glean a sense of what he was thinking, and she could still feel that nagging sensation of being tested… but it had been pushed below the many more pressing and immediate thoughts in her mind, and she did not consider it beyond the recognition that it existed as she awaited the conclusion of this event, eager to have the tension and suspense dispelled.