mythicdawnmaster

Aurora let her face relax from it's grin and put her feet up on the table, leaning into her chair with a sigh. As Dri introduced herself, the Bard smiled warmly, admittedly feeling a little bad for her hostility, especially considering the woman had been attacked outside as Weyland said. "I'm Aurora, a pleasure to meet you Audri. As for being friends with these charming gentlemen? I can't say I know them all too well. I travelled down with them for the fair." Aurora realised at that moment she had not made much of an effort with the others of the group aside from Tannin, and a few words of introduction to Rhaine. And if she had, she had been too drunk to know what it was she was saying. That would have to change, providing she could retain her composure that is. Aurora giggled at the brothers words "I can vaguely recall you both drinking when we first met, but other than that I know very little about you strapping rogues. If I had known that you enjoyed the drink as much as I do, I wouldn't have sat alone in my tent everynight getting delirious, I would have shared the joy." After Weyland told her of the brothers rescuing of 'Audri' she gasped "How terrible! I do hope you gave her attackers a good beating or two." There was concern evident on her face as she looked at the woman sitting next to her. "Are you quite alright? They didn't hurt you too badly did they?" Before she allowed Dri to answer her, Aurora reached between her cleavage and procured a small red bottle. She offered it to Dri delicately. "Here, it's Thayan brandy, it'll either numb your every worry, or knock you out cold. The Thayans being all undead and all this is pretty potent stuff." She grinned mischievously. If there was one thing she enjoyed more than getting drunk, it was helping others do so. ------ Ravenna snorted "There is a difference between fear and caution my dear. I am not scared, but I am no fool. I did not survive each layer of hell by charging into the keep of each Archdevil swords 'a swinging. I am not backing Quarylene, I am stepping forward carefully." She sighed, remembering herself. "But you are correct, it matters little what it is, it shall be nothing soon. Your spider goddess cannot scare me, it is she who will be afraid as her blessed are crushed like ants. But enough of my speeches, point the way dear, and I shall show you the power of the Hells."

Xallistine nodded to Rhaine, and walked in the opposite direction, off towards to the wizards little hut, where applicants for the magic contest were processed. He couldn't help but wonder why every event had it's own shack, but it was better that than have recruiters swarming about the place asking every tom dick and harry if they would be competing... not that they needed asking, the bulk of these 'spectacular magicians' were talentless charlatans and deranged farmers (who believed their wives cooking spoons to be magical instruments). He had seen a small clique of talent dotted around however, so perhaps there would be an inkling of a challenge. Stepping through the mould-ridden door of the wizards hut, he glanced at the scribe. Sat behind the desk was a halfling, chin just grazing the counters surface, and pointy hat making up the bulk of his visible person. In his minute, stubby fingers, which were adorned by various rings of weak enchantment, he gripped a quill that may well have been the length of his arm. "How can I help 'ye mister?" The halfling said in a lilting, almost musical voice. Terribly out of tune. "The same as most I would imagine sir, I come seeking admission into the arcane contest." "Arcane contest?" Xallistine sighed heavily, letting out a prolonged breath of despair. "Magic contest." "Well why didn't 'ye say so!" The halfling's face lit up, and he slid the form towards Xallistine, handing him the quill. "Just write 'ye name there." Thinking for a moment whether or not to use his Illithid name, he decided against it on grounds of sympathy. What if the poor, illiterate judges attempted read it aloud? Oh the horrors of miss pronunciation that could occur. He wrote down the phonetic version of the first three letters of his name, writing Z-a-l slowly for the halfling. After what seemed like an eternity, the little man looked up in befuddlement. "How do 'ye pronounce that then?" Xallistine sighed again. "Like gal, but with a Z." "Ohh I see. Well, good luck to 'ye sir!" ---------- Aurora had decided against staying in camp to sleep off her hangover, and instead sought to wash it away with more alcohol. Strutting into the tavern with a grin, dressed in her yellow corset and a pair of tight leather trousers, complete with her usual heels, Aurora had to stop herself from falling as she failed to notice the step. Shrugging off the near embarrassment. She continued her strut towards the bar, much to the pleasure of the various drunkards half-consciously sat upon the stools. However, before she could place her hands upon the counter she caught a glimpse of the Grey Brothers. Well, she caught a glimpse of one, and stepped over the other as he crashed into the counter. Spinning around with a huge, bubbly grin, she cooed "Arland! Weyland! What a surprise to see you here!" She pulled up a chair and sat cross legged, wide grin still present as she gazed at the older of the brothers, not at all surprised that Arland was suffering injury so early on in the evening. "Oh, I see you already have company." She said with dissatisfaction, glancing at Dri, seemingly unaware of her state. --------------------- Ravenna scowled "Just exactly where are we?" She asked, still following close behind the Drow. "I can't say I like the look of this place."

Xallistine, after begrudgingly shedding his true form and squeezing back into his arcane disguise, slowly emerged from the tent. Rhaine's words still passed through the workings of his mind, filtering, funnelling and finally fluctuating in their meaning as he performed his mental vivisection, taking each sentence of Rhaine's retort apart as one would the contents of a mysterious body. There was no denying that he still could not fully appreciate her words, but he attempted to place himself in her devoted state of mind, to comprehend what it was to exist solely as a projection of her faith- she had said that without it she was nothing. How was he meant to interpret a phrase so multi-facetious? Did she literally mean that without her faith she ceased to exist? That she truly was nothing, not a spec? Or did she mean that spiritually she was devoid? He had not the time to mull over such things, not when he could focus upon the threat that they had taken respite from. Gliding sagely toward his winged leader, he noticed the masked figure locked in interrogation by their very own Mr. Virson. Catching the Drow's words, Xallistine raised an awkwardly human brow as he came to a halt beside Rhaine, leaning forward heavily upon his jet cane. Having not shrunk with the Ulitharid, the smooth, colourless cane looked odd, too large for the human clutching to it, all the while bearing the subtle influences of Illithid style. "Ours is not the kind of work that yields renown and adoration, and neither is this an adventure. We face a powerful foe." Xallistine remarked, turning to Rhaine "He has been honest, which more than can be said for a number of our companions, and we all have aspects of our past we wish to run from." He said in a fair tone. "And another pawn upon the board increases our survival." He remarked mentally, protecting his thought to Rhaine and Rhaine alone. ------- Ravenna chuckled, a devilish grin spread across her face, fanged canines pearlescent in the dim light. "You have reminded me of my station Quarylene- Devil Queen indeed. Let us show the dear goddesses what the Consort of the Hells may do with her power. I long to make a few more enemies, and, to watch them squirm."

Ravenna smiled lightly "I can respect such a system, it is not unlike the hells. But tell me, the wilds, why is it they may not be tamed? Everything bends once you apply the correct amount of force, eventually. In fact, I rather look forward to testing that theory a little more on your dear Spider Goddess. We will make her feel the sting of vengeance... although, those poor priestesses are going to feel a lot more than a mere sting." The devil queen grinned sadistically for a moment, as she continued to ride beside the vampiress.

After a self-satisfactory smile at her smouldering annihilation of the bilious slime, and an intrigued glance at the mangled remains of the half digested adventurers, she heeded Quarylene's call and kicked her heels into the side of her nightmare. The infernal steed paid no notice as it passed over the now scorching puddle of acidic bile, galloping hastily as it shadowed the direction of the Vampiress. The Underdark truly was a mysterious cornucopia of muculent depravity and phosphorescent mosses. The very walls of the cavernous passages they passed under seemed to be rife with evil, strange, faintly glowing mushrooms presented death upon their spotted, slimy surfaces, and all manner of noxious insects scuttled about loathsomely in a conglomeration of hairy legs and sharpened pincers. This place was evil, but not in the infernal, tortuously complex diversity of the circles of hell; no, this place had a clear air to it, a definite overall vibe. The monsters here were cool, calculated and nigh-invisible, this was a place for the grotesque shadows of the world to hide themselves in natural squalor. It was a place of dark intrigue, of subtle plots, it was all of the subtle things mortals feared incarnate. The Underdark's negative connotations were not misplaced. "Tell me, Quarylene." Ravenna began as she rode parallel to the former Matron Mother. "What was it like ruling a kingdom in this ephemeral chasm? I had expected this place to alien, but not quite so. Everything here is a perversion of the surface, I see similarities but they end swiftly. I admit my intrigue."

Ravenna growled, shifting her weight back into the saddle and pulling sharply on the reins, the hellish stallion came to a halt before the hulking mass of putrescent gelatine. The Devil Queen's face bore a disgusted snarl, looking upon the revolting creature as one would gaze upon a slug. Readying a ball of hellfire in her golden palm, Ravenna watched as the slime recoiled (if such an action was possible for a blob of gunge) as Hasim's wall of fire flickered against it's body. Smiling, she released her own spell and scorched the creature as the conjured ball of hellish flame exploded brilliantly upon contact. The slime seemed to shrink as it's gelatinous exterior burnt, evaporating the congealed blue-green liquid that made up it's mass. It was not done in yet though, and this development forced a scowl from Ravenna- her spell had not obliterated the creature, so it meant that she would have to employ more destructive methods. Remembering a spell learnt in her Thayan youth, Ravenna readied yet another fire based attack, Aganazzar's scorcher, and prepared to cast. Clenching her fist as the spell worked it's way to the surface, fiery wisps spinning gently around her hand, she opened up her fingers to release a searing gout of arcane fire. Spraying forth like a jet of super-heated water, the orange flames hit the first face of the blue cube. Spreading like ink in a bowl of water, the arcane flames slowly engulfed their prey. The cube was further reduced in it's size, and a pungent smell of burnt putridity filled the cavernous air.

GENERAL INFORMATION: Name: Damaris Plantagenet “Addressed as Your Grace by lessers, and Madam by those closer to her rank.) Gender: Female Race: Pure blooded Englishwoman through and through. True Age: 729 Apparent Age: mid to late 30’s/early forties. Religion: Protestant Clan: Ventrue Bloodline: Malocusian Covenant: Invictus Covenant Faction: Most Noble Fellowship Of Artemis Clan/Bloodline/Covenant Disciplines: Dominate, Fortitude, Domus, Celerity Haven: Highwillow Hall, Damaris’s personal estate, is an enormous, palatial manor house situated within the vast countyside of Buckinghamshire. Construction started in 1690 following a rectangular, Elizabethan style complex, resembling the shape of Longleat. Its façade however drew upon Damaris’s earlier years, and was articulated in imposing, perpendicular gothic style. It features a painted dome reminiscent of Castle Howards. The interior defies both themes, and embodies a heavier, darker take upon the ornate of Rococo, still featuring gold trim, high, painted ceilings and intricate carvings. The colours are not the light pastels of the period, and are rather the darkest shades of previously bright selections. The vast mansion features everything one would expect, from ballroom to multiple drawing rooms, and enough bedchambers to fit an Elysium full of Kindred, it is a glorious show of Damaris’s wealth. APPEARANCE: Height: 5’6” Weight: 43kg Hair: Blonde Eyes: Light brown Skin: Pale white Handedness: Right Scars/Tattoos: None of either. General physical description: A word that is most often used to describe the features of Damaris is aristocratic- She not only holds herself with a refined and unbreakable posture, but an air of inborn refinement and elegance. Her features are gaunt, with naturally high cheekbones and sunken cheeks. Eyes are large, expressive, and sit beneath high, arched brows. She has a long, proud nose, almost perfectly symmetrical, beneath which are her thin lips and strong jawline. Her skin is perfectly flawless, free of scars, blemishes and other marks; it gives off the slightest radiance if she has bathed in Galloi blood. Visual Appearance: Voice: Deep, feminine, and thoroughly posh, her accent is one spoken by aristocracy and royalty, R.P in all its glory. Clothing/armor: Conservative, modest and classy, her clothing is always exceedingly expensive, crafted from the finest materials money can afford. Her style could be described as “Masculine Femininity”, or “Feminine masculinity”. She re-makes masculine fashions, such as her much beloved military jackets, and adapts them to fit her figure, combining ancient pieces with marvels of modern tailoring, she always cuts a sleek and aristocratic figure. The most notable objects she possesses are always worn upon her person, and symbolize her devotion to the Invictus. Gifted to her by the Prince of Lisbon to celebrate their long alliance and prosperous business venture together, a full set of flawless royal purple diamonds was given to her on their 100th anniversary. The set consists of a large empress cut ring, a pair of pear drop earrings, a bracelet, and finally a huge marquise cut, which she wears set into a choker of clear diamonds. PERSONALITY: General Personality Traits: A kindred of many years, she is more reserved than most, and fits in to the stereotype most would expect of a Ventrue elder. An elitist through and through, she strongly believes in the concept that Ventrue are the lords of the night, and has been living in such a reality for many, many years. She lives by the codes of dignitas, and the Invictus’ pomp and parade. Having clawed and scraped her way up to the top, she is not one for charity or recognition of those beneath her; the right to speak to a being as venerated as her, to be noticed and not looked through with disdain is a privilege to be earnt, not a right. She sits within the upper most echelon of Kindred society, and frowns upon those outside of the gilded club that is the Invictus’s inner circle. In conversation she is pleasant and impeccably mannered, ever formal, and by modern standards overly so. She gives respect where it is due and fully expects the same courtesy to be returned. On the flipside, beneath her cordial exterior, Damaris is a violent, bloodthirsty and increasingly degenerate being; her methods have always been ruthless and brutal, and her violent resolution of troublesome situations has often got the better of her. She is certainly no raving lunatic about it though, her methods are quick and subtle, but the brutality involved often leaves other Kindred to wonder about her sanity. Her megalomania developed from a mild narcissism she possessed early in her unlife, increasing tenfold with each generation that has passed, and her arrogance is not unwarranted or hollow. She has many accolades to prove her achievement, but her ego is far too inflated. As a result, she often suffers bouts of paranoia, suspecting those around her to be plotting to steal her glory. Fears: Final death, succumbing to madness entirely, Lupines (those of which cannot be broken), the masquerade being broken, losing her titles. Attitudes towards friends/strangers: Indifferent and aloof to most, but when one has earnt the right to be formally introduced to her, she is cordial and well mannered, perhaps in rare cases, friendly. Opinion of the world: “The world may have changed, but the night is still firmly within our grasp. Glory to the Invictus.” HISTORY: Past: (If you feel like reading a boring novel, go ahead, but it is only the Elder stage that matters :D) Pre Embrace: Neonate: Ancilla: Elder: Embrace: She was embraced by an elusive Ventrue after being noticed by the Invictus- her sire was known by many names in his unlife, so it is hard to determine what is was she knew him as. Birthplace: England. Family/Relationships: Her family are long dead, however, a number of distant cousins were embraced for their Plantagenet name, so she is not the only of her dynasty still around. Living/Dead Family Members: See above. Friends: The Prince of Lisbon. Enemies: Enemy is a strong word, but she does possess a rival of sorts in Gavin Johnstone, for his side in the Scottish war of Independence that killed her father. Current Nationality: British Current Place of Residence: Buckinghamshire.

Ravenna found that her nails were far more interesting than the dank scenery around them as her Nightmare darted forth after Quarylene, following close behind the Drow Vampire as she led them to their destination; for a while the devil-queen was content to gaze at her claws and visualize the brutal murder of a few matron mothers, and the look on the fat-spider goddess as she became aware of what was happening. But when the journey didn't seem to be getting an shorter, Ravenna looked up to find them still far from civilization, if anything the drow called home could be classed as such... Losing her patience she sighed audibly and remarked "How much longer of chafing must I endure?! I want bloodshed Quarylene, not sore thighs!" ---------- Aurora had changed from her canary attire into a simple day dress once she had freshened up a little. Stepping out of her tent looking quite the opposite of her usually extravagant self, she had neglected to put her hair up in a pouf, and instead her copper locks hung freely over her shoulders. Heavy bags framed her eyes as she stumbled off to find the others again, her head pounding.

Rhaine's words had given Xallistine much to think about, but he was glad at least that she had taken his advice regarding Azuris to heart. Her words about faith were difficult for the Ulitharid to truly comprehend, for he himself had no such ties to the gods; for Xallistine, the reverence of a godly being was merely something to be done to ensure his soul would not be punished for it's heresy, nothing more. He celebrated the Illithid patron Illsensine when was required, and drew from the god wisdom in times of need, but little else- he viewed himself as being exactly that, a unique being whose destiny was his alone to control. Perhaps it was his years getting the better of him, that these near heretical views had developed, but Xallistine put it down to logic. He could not understand how Rhaine saw herself as simply an extension of her church, when she was so much more than merely an organ in the body of her religion. This would require much meditation. ----- Ravenna grinned as the Nightmare's arrived, pulling herself up upon the saddle of her own steed, draping her legs over one side, as her dress would certainly not stretch to fit around her hellish mount. She was surprised to hear Quarylene mutter such complementary words to Hasim... well, complementary by her male-hating standard at least. "He is indeed a resourceful man. Many thanks my friend, you have saved my shoes." She smiled lightly. "Now then Quarylene, do lead on."

Xallistine sighed, throwing his cane aside and dispelling the effects of his disguise with a wave of his hand. Returned to his original height and fully restored to his original form, he looked at his taloned hands to make sure it was successful. Turning his pupil-less eyes to Rhaine as she stood cross armed, he rubbed his temples before he began. "Your words and actions last night surprised me my lady. They were not the words of a level headed leader thinking of the bigger picture, rather, the words of an enraged Kelemvorite who put her faith before her task. But fear not, I was not put here to lecture you, it was a tense situation, and many would have remained so composed, I am proud to have stood by your side as you remained impartial. However, by remaining without a side, one was thrust upon you. The knight and his men did not receive your help, and therefore consider you an ally of Azuris." he paused for a moment, gathering his words. "You allowed him to live my lady, so therefore, you have deemed his actions unworthy of punishment. If that is the case, then why is it you wish him gone? To protect the name of the Church? To protect your own name from those within? You know as well as I do that the Church of Kelemvor is hardly held in the brightest of lights, you are feared and venerated in equal measure, and this humiliation to your faith is hardly the first and will by no means be the last, am I correct? And as for the damage Roland may do with his tale, what of it? Kelemvor trusts you with his every fibre, and the dissatisfaction of a few easily swayed priests will do nothing to blacken your glimmering banner my lady." "Allow me to blunt as I have been in the past; matters of faith cannot come before our goal my lady. To deprive this group of an able sword simply because of his past is illogical, by banishing Azuris you only weaken our integrity. To face Valthanarax we need every able body we can employ, and none are quite so suited to this task as he. I understand how difficult it may be for you to put this indignity behind you, to forgive his deception and betrayal, but we need him, at least until we have prevailed. Our chances need not be slimmed further by removing one of the most able from our fold." His tone hardened slightly as he continued. "View us all as tools my lady, pawns on a board. The more you have, the easier your goal is achieved and the greater your chance of success. Azuris is a Knight you do not wish to lose to the opposition, he is a pawn you wish to conserve. He is a prize piece of your vanguard my lady, do not throw him away because he has displeased you. Each and every one of us in this group has our secrets, demons of our past that may damage each and every one of us. But you must stand by them all and remain united, only then may we win." ------ Ravenna snorted "We most certainly must.The blood of these matron mothers had better flow Quarylene, for my shoes need cleaning."

Figured I'd post as no-one has for a little while, it was likely my go anyhow :blush:

Whitelock listened to the Setite's suggestion in silence, her dull eyes peeping from the frames of her glasses, for a moment glinting in the light. She suspected that Yasmina's contribution was a viable option, and a plan that could very well work; but she couldn't help but let the slightest fraction of a smirk grace her lips momentarily as she saw the veiled truth. If the killer felt particularly inclined he could, in theory, murder the Gangrel Primogen before the assault party had got to him, and Whitelock imagined that thought was a sweet one for Miss Sekhman, who no doubt wished Mr Wright removed from the night for his wrongs in her domain. It was an option to consider, but she doubted it would yield any results... but then again. Mr. Wright had told her his clan was murdered in similar fashion... what if the murderer wished to complete his little episode and wipe the whole group out, the recent series of murders was merely a ruse to draw Nathaniel out? How delicious. But Whitelock had no time to think as Harper mentioned the Primogen, and sighed softly. "My cue to leave then..." she thought hopefully. The political backstabbings of the Primogen bored her immensely, and she oh so despised their constant bickering. Looking down at Harper as he slumped into his chair, the Tremere took the initiative to dial the Whip's number. After simply saying the word 'Primogen' into the phone, she placed it back down and sighed. "The council should arrive soon... I imagine they are all just bursting to take a slice at one and other. Joy." She spoke dryly, taking her previous place near Harper's desk. ------- Ameline arrived through the doors to Harper's office shortly after the others of the Primogen, fashionably late as always her footsteps clicked loudly as her platform pumps made contact with the polished floor. As soon as the light hit Ameline's hair, it shone brilliantly, the deep red waves cascading over her shoulders, bouncing with each step she took. Clad in all black, the Toreador seductress had chosen a revealing gown from a recent runway show, the tulle dress featured a plunging neckline, boned bodice embellished heavily with silk and swarovski elements, arranged like flowers. The sheer skirt was slit fully on the right, and featured an insert of criss-crossing rabbit fur and further elements, it dragged along behind her delicately, her fishnet clad leg peaking out from the slit. Flicking her hair to the right with a soft sigh, diamond earrings furiously shaking, one leather gloved hand reached around the back of her neck to adjust the clasp of the diamond bib she wore. "Well isn't this lovely... we are all here... together again." There was no small injection of sarcasm in her rapturous tone.

Xallistine had found no solace that night, he too had been kept awake by the celebratory party of the bards, and his own thoughts. The human form he was sporting seemingly required rest as the others of it's kind, but the Ulitharid soon solved that with a little spell. Leaving his tent before dawn had broken, Xallistine took himself and his musings on a solitary walk around the fairgrounds, occasionally passing others who had escaped the confides of their tents for the icy grip of pre-dawn winds. Returning to the group's encampment, he raised an eyebrow. Coming to a halt and leaning upon his cane the sorcerer gazed up at the writhing figures of the brother's Grey trapped in their sleeping bags, his face sporting a look of bemusement. He'd never understand surfacers and their humour. After shaking his head at the whole affair, he managed to corner Rhaine as she too stepped forth to admire the spectacle. "Ah, my lady. I have been meaning to speak with you, all night in fact. Do you have the time for an audience? I need to get out of this skin, and we will need to be away from distraction if words are to be shared seriously. I shall be in my tent." He gave her a slight bow, and proceeded back inside. ------- Aurora awoke with a yawn, stretching to pop her joints. She wasn't entirely sure where exactly she was, or what is was she had gotten up to the night prior. But that was often the case with the copper haired songstress. As she became aware of her surroundings, she couldn't help but feel how strange her bedding felt. it wasn't usually like leaves... Leaves?! As she rolled to the side, Aurora fell from the branch of the tree she had been perched upon, a shrill shriek escaping from her throat, she plummeted fast, and hit the ground with a soft thud, the grass cushioning her fall. Rising to her feet shakily, she looked around to see Tak'we, Amendale, and the Grey brothers, the former in hysterics and the latter dangling from the same tree in their sleeping bags. Stumbling forward, she looked up in astonishment, and broke into a fit of laughter herself. Once she had finished, her head began to hurt. Ah of course. Hangover. With a groan, Aurora hobbled away, back to her tent to recover. ---------- To Ravenna's misfortune, she found that the drow was not lying about them having to walk. The damp squelch beneath her feet attested to that. Looking down in disgust, she gasped at the sight of muddy soil coated to the sole of her heels. Looking forth at the rest of the dismal passageway, she hissed in dissatisfaction. The cheek of it! She, the devil queen of the Nine Hells, walking! Through a mucus lined cavern no less! Oh the slaughter that followed had better be damn well fantastic if she was ever to forgive Quarylene for this indignity. She wasn't quite sure what was worse, walking, or being forced to sit upon a filthy lizard. Still, at least it was not the swamp of Mammon's realm... And if worse came to worse, there was always Hasim or Haxxon to carry her.

Xallistine sighed, shaking his head as Rhaine stormed away after her beratement of Azuris. He looked at the fallen doomguide, his eyes holding pity. He did not relish the thought of loosing a fighter as capable of Azuris over matters of the Kelemvorite troubles; such petty trivialities, no matter how important to Rhaine and her beliefs, had to come secondary to the goal the group as a whole worked together to undertake- destroying Valthanarax before he was able to ascend. Azuris's expulsion would do nothing to aid them, only protect Rhaine's reputation. The man was a powerful warrior, and his expertise fighting the undead had proven invaluable in the past. The events that had transpired were, in Xallistine's eyes, no reason to deprive the group of another sword. If Rhaine had not deigned them sufficient enough for execution, then surely, she had ruled that he deserved to live? Rhaine would certainly not be in any way receptive to advice Xallistine could muster that night, and so he settled for rest. Night often stripped away rage in it's comforting grasp, so he would offer her his words in the morning. But he would not force his observations upon her; as he had said to the group, her decisions and her enemies were theirs by extension. Nevertheless, he would offer his words of wisdom as an outside party, as he had done in the past. It was, after all, the duty of an advisor to take all things into account, was it not? ------------- Ravenna turned her head to address Quarylene with a golden stare. "As would I my dear." Rising to her feet the devil queen wasted no time in beginning her descent of the staircase, heels clicking purposefully and leather train dragging heavily behind her, she watched as her reflection danced across the circle of the scrying pool. "We shall take the exit through which you entered, Quarylene, and from there you may guide us to your foes. I trust you will be able to acquire suitable transportation? I am not going to walk the fetid tunnels of your home, and I sincerely doubt that the carriage will fit through that little structural weakness in the wine cellar."

Xallistine stood back near Rhaine and watched as events unravelled rather quickly. There was certainly no holding back from either of these parties, and while he was sworn to remain impartial by staying at Rhaine's side, he had silently rooted for Azuris- He stood by his words, the man had earnt his place, and had more than justified his actions, considering the nature of these so called Necromancers, or was that, children? Roland and his men did not sit well with the Ulitharid, and the paladin's disapproval of Rhaine's chosen comrades irked him- Species came not into it, they were no more monsters than he was. ----------------------- Ravenna grinned at Hasim's words, unable to disagree as it stood "Your hand in partnership would be more than welcome my old friend, it happens to be that I am in need of those who are willing to assist my cause. I have an Orc and his armies at my disposal, the help of dear Quarylene here, and the loyalty of my dear apprentice... wherever it is she may be. My goal is rather grand, but that is a discussion for a later time. Your assistance is welcome Hasim, and perhaps we may whet your appetite for becoming a part of my machinations, with a little trip to the Underdark? Quarylene and I have a number of matron mothers whom need their fingers stepping on."