Arc I - Terreille in Trouble
In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador
Bellinar skipped over Jandar's question as the Kaeleer man noted that he had scared the poor lad to death. Shrugging his large shoulders, the Saroth brother gave a non-commental grunt and was about to reply when the far sweeter voice of Fatima interrupted him. The rebellious Queen appearing in the shadows of what had once been a lush forest. Already Bellinar could see the slight hint of light in the sky. Dawn was coming and with the dawn their departure. Though what would they do with a boy and a Kindred-dog who knew too much? "A boy and a talking dog who know too much and were stealing from what I gather." The Eyrien informed the bedraggled queen with a slight bow. Those his words turned to address Jandar once more. "Though honestly I saw we just wipe their minds- permentantly- and be done with it. We can't risk leaving a trail especially if the Sadist met the Queen." There was a worried look on the Eyrien's face as he gave a great yawn. The man had been up all night and most of the day. Now low on sleep he was feeling the effects of his folly.
The lad, on the other hand, was anything but reassured especially when Fatima appeared. It was one thing for Mikhail to not be a fan of Queens, and yet another thing when he appeared to be a fan of one in particular. Thom wasn't a fool, he knew there could be a draw that a man of the Blood would feel towards a Queen. One that could drive a good man to justify doing very bad things in the name of the Queen. He had seen it before and had fallen victim to it. "You said you didn't trust Queens! None o' them are different, their all the same. Desiring and wanting for their own ends!" Hissed Thom as he shook in positive terror as wide blue eyes stared at Fatima. His pale blonde hair of his Glacian parent hanging limpy around a mask of horror as he gripped Mikhail's sleeve. Dunny taking up a defensive stance between his friend and the Queen growled lowly in warning, his lips drawing back from an impressive set of teeth. Though oddly enough for anyone who had been around the Sceltie for any length of time, Dunny remained silent. His tail tucked tightly between his legs. "We'll give it all back, I swear. Just let us go, Lady." Pleaded Thom, his feminine voice soaring to new heights in his fear.
Meanwhile, Faeril heard the distant noise of a group of voices. Didn't anyone know to keep their tones down? They were fugitives in hiding. Rebels who were being hunted, though not in earnest. Not yet. Opening her blue eyes weakly, the Black Widow-Healer could feel the weariness of using her Craft and the ache of the breaking of her illusion. Sitting up, the Eyrien woman covered her mouth with a yawn as she listened to the not so distant and loud snores of Gen and Denvar. The two brothers still sound asleep so long as she didn't try to leave through the room where they slept, and so long as no one tried to enter. Staggering on legs that didn't quite have the strength to hold her. Faeril limped along up the old and creaking stairs, the wood threatening to rot as she appeared on the balcony where the largest of her race lay. Snoring if she had any thought. Sitting on the hearth of a fireplace tucked just inside the door to the balcony where Xandar slept, she gave the large Warlord Prince a soft jab with a slippered foot. "Prince. There seems to be a racket." She whispered, her voice hoarse.