RP:Die Filthy Elf

From HollowWiki

Frostmaw Tavern

A black flame lit on the ground which gave birth to a pyre of green fire with which Deriin stepped forth. A robed, masked figure slinked out, even his hands hidden in the seemingly oversized garb he wore but from the hole where his wrist would protrude were two very large and heavy looking chains. Slowly he made his way out of this 'gate' as you may call it but he was not perhaps the most intimidating figure but his pets; two wargs as tall as he was and bugling with chorded muscle with the savage yet subdued ferocity in their eyes might strike fear in onlookers. The moment they were completely out the fire dissolved leaving nothing but a small pile of ash of which the source was unknown. Swinging his head from side to side to gaze through amber hues at the patron he silently took a seat.

Linn sat on the floor in front of the hearth, a mostly empty order of stew and cider kept close to his side to keep it out of the way. From the entrance to the tavern the reflections of his mithril armor were mostly lost in the silhouette of the fire in front of him, though the wavering orange flame wasn’t the only light in front of him. Twisting, flowing blue strands of light had conjured themselves in the air in front of him, detailing some kind of arcane pattern or effect. Despite the model having an extra dimension to work with he was still dissatisfied with that he was trying to describe it seems as it kept shifting and re-drawing itself, the actual nature of the layering of the image perhaps beyond what was normally perceptible. The burning and crackling of the magical green fire behind him caused his tinkering to halt with a turn of his head towards the figure who had just made his way into the tavern by equally unconventional means. He shrugged slightly, rather unfazed for now before going back to thinking on the arrangement of arcane light in front of him, trying to think through some way of making whatever it represented work.

Talyara shouldered her way inside the tavern sometime later, clad in fur-lined leggings, boots and vest atop her long sleeved black blouse. Curled up at her hip was a razored whip. Taly was not very trained in physical attacks, only learning basic stances and thrusts with a short sword sometime ago. But recently she had been gifted a whip by a stranger and found herself pretty decent at handling it. And so the witch had been spending her free time out west practicing with her new weapon, her abilities improving with each trip. Upon entering the bar, she kicked the snow off her boots (causing Drargon to give her an annoyed look) causing a small puddle and unclasped her cloak and hung it on a peg, the clear and green crystal shards adorned on the back glittering as the fabric swayed. Taly didn't bother to look at the other patrons but instead set her emerald irises on her favorite barkeep who rolled his solo eye as she approached, sliding into a vacant stool. She grinned up at him expectantly as the two remained in a stoic stare off. Eventually Drargon grunted and began pouring her a glass of amber liquor. "Here's your rum, Witchling."

Deriin had not immediately noticed Linn but when one of the wargs nudged its master's shoulder and sniffed in the man's direction Deriin acknowledged with a sluggish turn of his head. Nothing of the face could be seen but perhaps a single yellow eye. The manner that the first warg regarded the human, and how that visible eye stared with such distaste, if noticed, would convey the message that humans weren't well liked, and neither were elves for that matter for the same look was given Talyara. The filth was so pungent he wanted to vomit but instead he simply tilted the mask a little and spat towards the woman, which just so happened to land near her foot. This man was hateful of many of the surface dwelling races, finding them as all a pestilence.

Linn caught Drargon’s words and turned his head with a smile, knowing only one person that the barkeep had referred to as the ‘witchling.’ He was about to get up before the amber glare caught a colorless one of his own as he cocked a brow, silently asking what the problem was before the lights in front of him vanished, whatever arcane device that made them deactivating as he brought his hand down to grab the remains of his food while getting his pack with the other. Getting up he brought his stuff over next to Talyara at the bar before the soft splat of spit landed next to him in his passing. Tracing the motion back led him right to the masked man at the table with his hounds, prompting a perplexed look of ‘seriously?’ before he sighed and sat down at the bar next to Talyara. He didn’t really care enough right now unless it became more of an issue though, deciding to talk with the witch for now to distract himself as his eyes wandered to the rum in front of her. “Seems we always get the same thing here.” He jested with a small bump as Drargon offered a small look of recognition, but not much more as he went back to cleaning the bar.

Talyara heard the spat his the wooden floor near her booted foot and cocked a brow before turning in the direction of the man her aimed it her way. She simply scoffed as she tilted her head back to down half of her rum. Before turning back to her bar once again, inclining her chin towards Linn with a smile. The spitting didn't phase her, she had suffered similar taunts when she befriended Laezila when he first came to the land, and this was her home! If he didn't like it, he was more than welcome to leave. When Linn mentioned them getting the same thing she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. "We're predictable I guess."

Deriin reached within his robe to retrieve from the folds a book bearing a symbol of Vakmatharas on the cover. His hand now visible, pale grey flesh obscured by his clothing, perhaps it would be easier to deem exactly what he was. "Get out of my sight." the words were low, his voice deep, rough like pouring gravel. The human was tolerable to an extent but he would not sit here and allow any portion of elf to be in his presence. At least not a living one. Anyone that bothered to look his way when he spoke would see him again staring at Talyara, his warg minions' lips curled back in a silent snarl; a threat should she disobey.

Linn chuckled slightly at Talyara’s statement before the order came from behind, causing him to stiffen before he dropped his pack off to the side, revealing a short wicked blade that he kept holstered sideways behind his back alongside the pouches and longsword at his hip. He turned in his chair and at the sight of the prepared book he narrowed his eyes as his hand reached into one of the pouches for… something. “The hell is your problem?” waving across the room just to show how far away they all were he decided to call the necromancer out, unfazed by the wargs, “We’re not even next to you.” He glared at the crowd in front of him, his magical shield readied to intercept a blow, readying himself to pull Talyara’s cloak her way seeing the direction of the drow’s attention. He wasn’t going to take any of this crap given how long he and the witch have been living here, this seeming outsider trying to order them out of a place he walked into on his own will.

Talyara spun around in stool once more, tenting her elbows on the bartop, leaning back. Instead of being frightened or intimidated Taly nearly smirked at the demand. The witch placed a placating hand on Linn's shoulder, hoping some of his anger would ebb. "This is my city, my home," she replied coldly to the necromancer. "If you want me out of your site, I suggest you find the door and leave." She paused for a moment, "or close your eyes." Emerald irises flared dangerously but that was her only tick of anger, everything else about her demeanor was completely relaxed as if they were having a pleasant conversation.

Deriin wasn't about to give gratification to the filth that confronted him by granting their primitive existences any more of his words. No, instead he stretched out his hand and laid it firmly on the warg's body closest to him and muttered a quiet incantation. Stepping away from it's master with enough chain between the collar and Deriin's hand to give him free roam through the entire room the beast bristled with a sudden unbridled fury. Fur stood on end before igniting at the paws and the neck/chest creating a sort of green mane and giving the warg a far more dangerous adversary than originally thought. The second thing to note was that the drool that had been oozing from that warg's (Fenrir) maw now sizzled in black puddles once it touched the floor, and anything organic besides itself and its master. A bark in the drow language and the beast barrelled forward open mouthed to first smash aside Linn and take Talyara in its necrotic acid dripping jaw and crush her with its powerful grip on top of delivering a deadly dose of evil magic in the form of said acid.

Linn was in fact quite miffed at the order, Talyara’s calm doing little to settle it. The tension in him was for expecting and preparing for the worst more than anything, a habit that had saved his life several times now. Her joke about closing his eyes did cause him to lighten slightly until the motions in front of him brought back just what was about to happen. As he jumped from his seat his free hand motioned towards the cloak Talyara had left on the rack at the entrance as it flew towards him, knocking the stand over in the process before it skidded across the bar right up to the witch for her to have. He braced against the hound’s charge before a veil of blue light came from his hand that drew the mysterious object before it deeply angled itself in front of him to deflect the beast off to the side with magical force. Time permitting he might be able to draw the blade from behind his back, the wicked black shape notably of drow construction. There were no more words from the enchanter either; his feelings had transcended language straight into action for right now as well.

Talyara hadn't been worried about this drow or his threats up until he sent his pet charging towards the pair. She immediately hopped from her barstool, hand reaching for the whip on her hip as Linn channeled her cloak towards her which she promptly grabbed and threw about her shoulders. Thankfully Linn was there which his magical shield reaching for his blade. In typical fashion, Taly didn't know when to shut up and she shouted at the necromancer, "What's the matter? Afraid of a little elf like me, too scared to come after me yourself?" Shut up Taly her inconscious mind chastised.

Deriin didn't move, he didn't even blink with the taunt of the half-elf. The failure of his beast would be forgiven this time but not again and now his hand reached out to stroke the crown of his idle warg (Anfauglir) which then stepped away from its master and quickly made the same change as the other did, except the flames on this one were blue and to be seared by them would be to allow not a blow to the flesh but a soul scorching blaze that could render one lifeless in moments and that too was what spewed from the eyes and mouth of Anfauglir. A single howl to fill the tavern as his battlecry and the beast released a gout of soul-devouring flames at the two while Fenrir stayed put, the leash on him working as a chain that would make it only a little more difficult than usual to get out of the way of his brother's attack.

Linn , finding the sudden gout of flames headed his way pushed against Talyara while leaping off to the side himself before readying his other weapon, hoping to at least knock the witch from the path of the flames in the opposite direction. Drargon himself was about ready to get involved in the fight if he didn’t have to take cover behind the bar as well from the assault, coming back up with the giant-sized waraxe for a giant bartender. Unfortunately Linn’s own path took him straight back into Fenrir who had crashed into the bar after the deflection, hard mithril plating slamming across the top of the hellhound as he managed to make it to the other side, if downed and on the ground next to a dog. In a split-second decision he decided to bait it to pounce on him and bite, exposing his neck purposefully. If the dog tried that damned blue shield would flit back to cover his exposed skin and shield it from the bite and the acid, hopefully giving him enough space to draw the blade from behind his back with the other hand and in the same motion slice the creature’s neck on the sharpened black metal.

Talyara seemed more infuriated that the necromancer was unwilling to face her himself but instead kept sending others to do.his bidding for him. The witch was confident in Linn's shield as well as the protection of her mana-adorned cloak as means of protection so she focused on a more offensive attack. However, thw audden onslaught of flames has Linn shoving her from harm's way, taking her by such surprise she gets caught in a barstool and toppled over. Emerald eyes narrowed and she snarled, quickly upturning her palms, focusing her energy on conjuring the element of fire, quickly molding her own blue flames that burst from her flesh into a swirling sphere. The more energy she put into it, the larger it grew until it was nearly the size of her head. Still protected by her cloak she flung her fiery sphere, hurtling it towards the necromancer's chest, simultaneously pushing herself back on her feet. Hoping her fire would work as a distraction, Taly quickly unraveled the whip on her hip, swinging her arm back and cracking the razored weapon towards the drow's feet hoping to pull him down to the ground.

Fenrir, the beast having been knocked aside and downed by Linn snarled at the man, infuriated just as his master was but still the two wargs had been raised by Deriin the beastmaster's hand since they were pups, going through the same training much as regular drow did. The same torturous hate-breeding training that Deriin went through as a young drow before he had been afflicted with a disease that made his body frail, the bones themselves having become weaker and brittle which is what forced him into the art of magic, necromancy and the control of beasts to do his bidding. Deriin had not raised the wargs to be fools or to be victims of their own primal instincts instead they scalpels, the finest ones in the doctor's arsenal when dealing with enemies that refused to die. Fenrir would not take the bait, he was not a fool but instead scramble to his feet, spit furiously and then dash off. Anfauglir would circle around the other direction bringing the chains to cross with his foes between them, hopefully crushing them in their grinding embrace. Deriin himself had stood finally, opening his book with Vakmatharas symbol carved in the cover. He didn't get very far however as that blue sphere came at him quite menacingly. In response to it he had to drop his book and grip the robe by the shoulder and wrench it over his head, undressing himself completely except for the arms which he slipped out of. The robe smothered the ball of fire but not before the heat had begun to singe the outermost layer of his flesh. It was then that the whip caught his legs, biting into the skin drawing blood instantly and also yankging him to the ground. Pain shot through his back but his honed tolerance wouldn't allow the filth he was fighting the satisfaction of knowing he was hurt. Any gaze on him now derobed would sho he had long locks of silky white hair, the scarred body of a middle aged warrior but the bright analytical intellect of a refined mind. he wore a leather harness and combat fatigues at all times. (also notes he picked up the leashes but not his book after falling)

Linn was rather impressed the dog that hadn’t taken what should have been a clean shot at his throat. Had it been any ordinary spar he might have even complemented the necromancer on his work, but… it wasn’t. The sudden circling of the dogs actually proved confusing for a couple seconds until the closing loop of chains drew itself enough for the idea behind the attack to become visible. Should the chains only be wrapping around him, he would harden his armor, turning it into a cage to resist the crushing forces before reaching out to yank on the chains that led back to Derrin to try and pull him into the fray. If Talyara was becoming caught in the loop as well, he’d layer his shield over the wicked blade in his other hand, using it as a template to shape the magical force into an edge sharp enough to cut rock like wax, trying to cut the metal like cheese. Should the chains be magical in nature such an effect would strain them, but it wouldn’t carve them up like it would a purely physical object. If they were magical though, they would have to contend with the spellbreaking crystal that he kept on his person since his run-in with another mage where it saved his life. It would take a few seconds of wrestling with the chains, but soon they would find themselves attacked by precise bursts of energy that would unravel the forces holding them to this plane regardless of who they were attacking. If the hounds tried to attack him for too long, they might find a similar assault coming their way as well. Drargon had come out from behind the bar, the warrior quite angry himself at the necromancer trashing his bar and threatening his patrons (Which had all taken to the walls or out the door by now). Deciding to take advantage of his two frequent customers with all their flashy armor and magic he thundered around the side, seeking to take his axe straight to the necromancer that was causing the trouble.

Talyara was actually quite surprised she managed to connect her whip with the necromancer seeing as she was new with it. Had these been different circumstances she would have been awfully proud of herself, probably leaning over the bar to receive a high five from Drargon. But the drow, those racist, was unrelenting and soon she found herself stumbling as he stood from her whip attack, a razor snagging as she attempted to draw it back to her person. This seemed to be her downfall as she suddenly found herself becoming entwined in the chains of the beasts, as they methodically weave about to entrap the couple. Taly quickly began wrapping her cloak tightly around herself for protection and moving closer to the enchanter who was much more adept with fighting than she, though she would never admit it of course.

As Talyara huddled closer to Linn and Linn worked on the chains with his magical knife he would find that there was a sort of sorcery being channeled through them. The crystal he held however also did its work and weakened the bond and in moments the chains had shattered at the link he was working on, freeing them from certain death but only for the moment. The leash was a way that Deriin had absolute control over his beasts and without them well.. they were reduced to how they were with only the training. Their free will returned, Fenrir and Anfauglir were still a deadly duo, brothers at birth and raised by Deriin's tough yet loving hand. They would never turn on their master but now they could fight with their own way of fighting. Green flames that melted the flesh, and blue flames that scorched the soul. Both quick to kill and completely capable of wiping out their enemies. The hunt was on. On opposing sides of the enemy, their broken leashes dragging at their heels they focused entirely on Linn and Talyara and then released twin streams of fire starting at the floor that spread like wildefire towards the two. They would clash at the center in a swirling pyre that would whisk the body and the soul from the living world. Should the flames bypass one another they were not stupid enough to be engulfed by their brother's attacks. Deriin dropped the leashes in exchange for the book, the chains worthless to him now for he wasn't strong enough to wield them on his own. It was then the lumbering giant swung out his giant axe but it was in fact Talyara's whip that with its continued injury saved him. When the razer snagged in his leg it pulled him to the ground once more, allowin him to roll out of the way of the swing. It was then that he grabbed that whip, slicing his hand but channeling a rotting magic down the whip that would reach talyara's hand and infect her with a necrosis that would circulate via the veigns causing the flesh to die and then melt away from her body over a period of a day.

Linn , seeing Talyara fall within the closing loop of the chains, knew that he couldn’t let them tighten around her. The cloak that he had modified would be intelligent enough to hold its hardening to stop the crushing forces as well, even if he hadn’t explicitly set it up to do so. With a great “Huragh!” he flipped the blade around and into a reverse grip, holding the bladed edge out from his forearm before dropping it with his whole body, right over the passing chains. When they broke the two were left on the ground as Linn caught the dogs still circling, and the moment they both turned inwards on the pair he knew he had to get the hell outta there. He reached an arm around Talyara to hold her tight before friction suddenly left the ground beneath them, a shockwave suddenly blasting on his side to send the two skidding away from Derrin and out of the clash of fire. If Talyara held onto the whip Derrin would either continue to get cut up as its razored end flew and ripped through his hand on its way out or he’d be dragged along for the ride, hopefully breaking his focus and channeling to stop the effect. If she released it, well, she was at least sure not to suffer the necrotic magic worming its way through the weapon. They slid all the way until they hit one of the far walls where the ground would begin behaving as it should again, letting them get back up to resume their fight.

Talyara squealed as Linn suddenly grabbed her, holding her close as the fiction beneath their feet suddenly gave way and the two (thankfully) slid out of the way of the swirling, brotherly flames. Unsurprisingly, this wasn't the first time the enchanter had saved the witch from flames, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Taly's grip on the whip had laxed somewhat as the two skated away across the tavern, yet she still maintained it. Slender fingers were nearly dropping her grip when Derrin sent his magic up the length, catching the witch's ring finger which was the only flesh that was touching the whip--it was enough, though, as Taly yelped in pain just as a sickening crunch echoed around the tavern as the couple made contact with the far wall. The elf's head bounced off of it, blood immediately beginning to trickle as a wave of dizziness caused her to sway on the spot. "Contain the magic, contain the magic," she mumbled to herself in a confused flury. Calling upon her goddess, a bright white light was conjured, and Taly forced it into her injured hand. Though pure and powerful, it was not strong enough to rid the necrosis, but it was enough to contain it to the single digit to prevent spreading for the time being.

Deriin had only a few seconds before the bartender came at him again and it was this time that was used to quickly unwrap the whip's razer edge from his leg at the cost of bloodying his hands. Dodging yet another of the giant axe's swings he wasn't prepared for the brute to slam the but into him, narrowly blocked by his arm however followed by the snapping of the very bones which had been made contact with along with throwing him into the wall knocking the air from his chest. It was seconds for him to regain his bearings and his right arm was now useless. Bloody fingers of his left hand cleaved the pages of his book for a spell with which he could regain the advantage in this situation that was rapidly spiraling out of control. Deriin found one that fit the situation perfect, a sort of crowd control spell. Drops of blood from his hand mixed with his dark magic and from the wounds of his hand poured forth a small swarm of brain-boring insects. They skittered across the floor towards the bartender and would quickly make their way up his body and attempt to find ways into his head, phasing through the flesh and into the brain where immediate confusion would take place and over the next several weeks his brain would deteriorate until he was left a brain-dead shell. Fenrir and Anfauglir knew their master would be disappointed in their continuous failure but they were quick to redeem themselves. Talyara was busy dealing with her hand thus making her a worthy damsel, and Linn the heroic defender would have to fight on two fronts. Anfauglir feinted with a bite for Talyara but before any defending blow from Linn could make contact he jumped back, if he tried and if Linn did indeed break concentration Fenrir would lash in with a armor and flesh rending swipe which would leave an acid burn that quickly would spread to engulf and devour inches of flesh within several inch radius of the original wound.

Linn crashed against the wall just as hard, the blow filling his ears with ringing and his vision a flash of white from the impact before he took in what was happening in front of him again. Dropping his blade he took Talyara’s hand, knowing it might be their last moment here. He just so happened to grab the right (wrong?) one with the contained necrotic magic that suddenly started trying to worm its way into himself, beginning to consume his energy that he had to channel to keep it at bay. Then the crazy idea hit him as he let the violet crystal float in front of him to grab a small quartz stone. It was a perversion of what the gem stood for, but a vessel is a vessel. Baiting the aggressive necrotic spell into the crystal he let it fly straight for the necromancer to visit his own spell upon him before releasing Talyara’s hand, purging the rest of its currently shallow influence from himself. The stone would rapidly accelerate to bone-shattering speeds as it left his hand, the crushing wound it would inflict only enhancing the mirrored spell contained inside that would be let loose on him if it made contact. When the bite came for Talyara he held up one arm for the jaws to find hard mithril, only for no chomp to come, instead finding another swipe coming his way. The floating blue glow left the violet crystal again, infusing the plating in his armor with a diamond-hardness that blunted Fenrir’s claws before he took the two dog’s proximity to his own play. Reality suddenly began to warp and invert around the crystal as a sinister darkness flared up within it before ripping free from inside, the black deathly blast arcing straight into the two dogs that had come so close to sap their power and send it straight to oblivion if they didn’t back off the moment the void began to show its hunger. It might not be enough to destroy them outright, but it was enough to sever their ties to this plane. Drargon perhaps knew what those bugs were going to do and backed off to avoid them. (ooc: I just don’t want to deal with getting Drargon help too…)

Talyara knew that her strengths were not in the offensive but the defensive attacks. Linn, unlike Taly, had an arsenal at his disposal, so her best bet was so deter any onslaught of attacks coming their way. It seemed that all three needed a moment to compose themselves no matter how short, and Taly barely had time to register the enchanter's fancy tricks with his crystals as well as his armor which he used to save her from a very nasty bite. As Derrin conjured his magic from his dark book and the buzzing of hundreds of bugs began to crawl their way towards Drargon, Taly pointed towards the door which flew open with such a force it was nearly pushed off its hinges. Honing in in her elemental powers, a swirl of wind in snow cycloned into the tavern the roaring flames in the hearth faltered and the smaller candles extinguished as Taly infused her own energy into this snowy cyclone causing it to spin faster and faster. She set it on a course straight for Drargon who, besides being slighlty windblown, would remain wholly intact thanks to his sheer size. The bugs, however, would be swept up until the mingled with the elements. Another swift movement with her hands and the swirling chaos heads straight for the necromancer, the witch doing her best to turn his own spell against him.

Anfauglir saw the stone get hurled toward his master and and immediately turned tail in an attempt to intercept. Fenrir backed off the moment the darkness showed itself. Things that couldn't be understood that might be harmful were meant to be studied from afar and prepared for. This was one of those situations. Before the blast could make contact he too had retreated to his master's side. Deriin himself attempted to use the busted arm but even as he raised it that diamond blew through his arm half way between the wrist and the elbow. Although it was his own spell against him he was capable of dismissing it as well but the arm was gone and a rotted stump. Today was a defeat and he would retreat for now but come back with a stronger plan. Their faces would be remembered and before the brain devouring insects could be set upon him Deriin would have disappeared out the door holding his busted arm, the spell book in Anfauglir's mouth while the beastmaster was clinging to Fenrir whom happily carried the master away.

Linn was left leaning back against the wall after Derrin’s leave panting heavily, somewhat in disbelief that the aggressive lashing out proved to protect him more than any of his defenses should have. The room tried to turn to white again before he groaned, trying to dispel the feeling until he finally turned to Talyara, looking worried. “What the hell did he do to you? If it did that to him as the caster…” His gaze flickered right to her hand that had received the necromantic attack, looking a little panicked. He had survived most of it unscathed, if drained, again, though he sincerely doubted that he’d make it through like that again. “I need to pay another visit down to that tree to clear my head. I have too much to do right now to be out of it.” He muttered with another heaving breath. “First though, your hand.” Despite everything, Talyara still found herself at the front of his attention, he knew his drain and daze would fix themselves instead of spreading, though necrosis… that could go bad ways.

Talyara looked slightly paler than normal, perturbed at the violent attack for merely being who she was, an elf. She felt guilty, more than anything, for somehow getting him involved in an attack like this so soon after he recovered from the last one. Emerald eyes shift to Drargon who looked madder than she'd every seen him as she went about trying to fix up his bar. When Linn inquired about her hand, she instinctively hid it from view behind her back, fixing her face with the best reassuring smile she could muster. "I'm fine!" She said a little too quickly, in a bit higher octave then she was accustomed to. "Hit my head pretty hard against the wall, but I'll be alright."

Linn eyed the bugs that had settled back onto the ground and tried to approach the pair. Right as they got to his boot they burst into a blue glow that drew itself into his pouch, the effect expanding to catch the rest of them within a few feet. If only that damn spellbreaker worked on the summoned hellhounds. When she said she was fine he gave her some look of furious panic. “That was necrotic. You saw what it did to him, and that was a replicated spell. That’s going to spread.” Another quick, panted huff as the adrenaline still hadn’t left him. “Your head will heal, it’s the magic we need to stop if anything’s remaining, fix whatever it might have done to you before it does any more.” He wouldn’t be denied as he reached out to grasp her arm that led to her affected finger to try and pull it back, his gaze pleading.

Talyara :: Last night had been perfect, moments of silliness and carefreeness that the two never seemed to find. Talyara's mind raced with all the ways tonight could have been avoided, mainly just leaving when the necromancer demanded it of her. The witch would have kept her hand hidden if it weren't for the pleading look in Linn's colorless eyes. Heaving a heavy sigh she let's him withdraw her hand, her ring finger black and dead looking. "I contained it there..for now," she added meekly. "I'm not sure how long it will last though." She paused for a moment, "You should get down t Xalious I know you had to have exerted yourself too much tonight especially after the ball." Taly was looking anywhere but at Linn at ton his point. "I'm sorry," she finally confessed barely above a whisper.

Linn pursed his lips seeing the wound. She was lucky. He touched the blackened flesh lightly before recoiling and having to purge the aggressive spell again. “We can break the spell, I don’t know about saving the finger though. You’ll have to ask someone else for that.” He drew the clear, nearly invisible crystal from his pocket, turning it over and over in his hand before forcing himself into a calm. “No time to be sorry right now…” he muttered as his eyes closed in focus, holding the crystal near her finger as the magic carefully probed it, searched for an opening to unravel the whole thing. The two inadvertently touched, the necrotic spell blackening the crystal before the clear swept in behind it, the two states swirling like an agitated liquid until suddenly the negative energy shrank away, leaving it as it was. It was then that a surge of power pulsed through her finger, any remaining nerves perhaps feeling on fire before a weak glow escaped her hand, drawn back to his device. Linn released a deep sigh of relief. “It’s gone. The spell anyway. We still have to find healing for the remains.” He couldn’t help another pained look at the afflicted finger, hoping that it could be saved.