RP:Food, Pain and Skin

Part of the Souls Out of Time Arc

Synopsis: Something is odd this night. Sabrina and Eirik meet up at the tavern in kelay. What starts off as something fun turns into a bit of a nightmare. But wait is that Valen? No, it's Maldor... Maldor to the rescue? Of course not. Eirik suddenly feels like an actual wolf as Maldor skins his arm removing a mark most foul. However, the conciousness buried in Valen seeks to use the situation for his own personal gain.

Kelay Tavern

Sabrina enters the tavern and steps over a sleeping pack of dogs only to trip and spill a mug of beer into Eiriks face.

Eirik suddenly finds himself wiping beer from his scar ridden features dripping the frothy fluid directly onto his new clothes. A look of irritation washes over him as he realizes this. "So much for having nice things," he smiles finally.

Sabrina apologizes immediately and grabs cloth from the bar-top to begin cleaning Eirik. "We can wash all of that out. It was an accident, I'm sorry." Hands go to work attempting to wipe his features down and as much from his neck and shirt as possible. "Even get you a bath," she adds jokingly."

Eirik laughs at Sabrinas response, but a mischievous look still gleamed in his eyes. For a moment, he would let it pass, dwelling on the thoughts of his new boots. "Oh they are working out just fine." As for the comment of a bath, "I just had one. You'll have to deal with it tonight." Oh yes, Eirik was refusing a bath. However, calloused hands are quick to snatch up a chocolate pie which sat on display. Sabrina might find its pudding like filling smeared into her hair creating a goopy mess, whilst the crust crumbles all over her. He had fully taken advantage of her situation while she was attempting to clean the lycan. She had started something he wouldn't let go of. A food fight.

Sabrina is standing quite still, and silent as the grave. Skin could be cleaned, clothes changed, but…. Her hair? Her mouth opens to a fluffy string of whipped topping peaks lining the hole of her mouth. Hands peel thick sections of pie from her eyes. When she looks at him they are black as pitch. Her lips purse, chocolate cream fingers procure a pickled egg from the jar nearby, and she shoves the whole thing in his smiling face.

Eirik is far to busy to react to the response of Sabrina, and instead finds a rather disgusting pickled egg being pushed into his face. The vinegary food found its mark, squishing right into his cheek spilling the foul yellow innards all over. Eirik is taken back, balance thrown off in his chair, and much to his dismay he flails. Arms grab at the nearest thing to stabilize himself. Instead, that same jar is now knocked over, spilling the fluid all over the counter, possibly Sabs, definitely himself and onto the floor. Eirik hits the ground with a thud, still laughing at the entire situation. The two had a spur of the moment food fight, but he wouldn't press for more. Instead, he scrambles to his feet and throws some serious coin at Mesthak. "Sorry about the mess." Eyes flick to Sabrina still teasing. "How about that bath?" Bits of egg still falling from his face.

Sabrina is sloshed by that smelling pink liquid and man was it cold. Her eyes get big as whipped-cream brows raise and she immediately picks up a beer from a laughing patron next to her. The beer is walked over to Eirik, and deliberately tipped to ensure he felt every last drop of that fountain. The patron grabs the beer from the man next to him and tosses its contents to the back of Sabrina’s head. A bath indeed. Nearly growling she picks up a chicken leg and thumps him in the head with it, not once, but twice. The domino effect led to one pivotal mood change when he, in turn, wraps his hand around her neck, hoists her up, and slams her back first atop Eirik. Apparently this was less than fun for him, and in the midst of tom foolery, he wasn’t playing.

The problem with fun around drunkards is this. The scene which is now folding out before them. Mixing it with Sabrina and Eiriks tendency towards violence and you have a volatile mixture of pissing hot testosterone. No one handles Sabrina that way. At first, his grunt human, growl shifting in all the deepest tones. Bestial. Heart pounded, throbbed against his chest. Right foot kicks out aimed to smash into the Warriors kneecap, screw him if he couldn't walk. The lycan shimmied his weight out from under the healer, and a steel toed boot would be found flying towards the ribs of the patron. "Get. Out. Now." Hand shifts to the blade at his side, its magics ready to be released in an instant. Eirik was lost to that violence within. Ready to tear this piss poor excuse of a man to shreds before all who stood there. His voice, an ominous foretelling of everything that was about to jump out from his skin. The mood darkens, as his thirst for unparalleled blood-shed filled his mind. Eyes shifting to that yellow, murderously gauging the fool before him.

Sabrina is rolled onto her knees, still unsure of what just happened and the sleeping hounds had woken up and started causing a ruckus. She places a hand on a table to get up, tipping the rocky structure and bringing the whole party’s drinks crashing to the floor. All four patrons rise and she is issuing apologies. The lone female of the bunch picks up her chair with one hand, causing the Elfess to apologize, ending in ‘Sir.’ Furious the chair is launched, to which the Healer evades. She keeps apologizing to the ‘Sir’s’, unaware that the sturdy woman is outraged. The chair crashes into the bar, and the back of a man minding his own business. His face lands in his soup and his whore looks at Sabrina equally outraged. The elfesses gloved hands are out as the whore climbs atop the counter and starts kicking full and empty glasses at her. “No…nononono!” One thunks across her shoulder and she stops back peddling. Like a wave of anger the whole tavern lights up, shouts and dogs barking ring across the room. A small fire is being put out by Mesthak and Nancy is cowering against a corner, pushing patron back into the hellhole when they come her way. Sabs plants her hand on a table, tilting her weight with force to arch her body on top of the bar with the whore. The Healer moves fast, but with a distinct grace. In a single breath she unloads on the whore, her foot coming between her vacancy and an elbow crashing down on the back of her shoulder. As Whore tumbles off the counter she grabs hold of Sabrina’s leg and takes her along for the ride. The man in his soup come to, to find an elfess clinging to his shoulder to break her fall and he mistakes her for his present company… by grabbing a handful of boob and breathing a hefty laugh into her face. She kicks the whore loose, swinging her body around to whirl him from his seat and ultimately back into the anger ridden Lycan who was seething and ready to commit a real crime.

Eirik takes one look at the man being sent into him and unfortunately, he receives the entire breadth of his fury. As much might even give pause to Sabrina, and every patron within the Tavern. A flash of purple ensues, noted by the sudden issuance of its light. Foot, trips the man, and suddenly Eirik is huddled over the patrons form. Left hand pulling the at the shirt on the mans chest, lifting his torso for a strike. A fist flies into his face; earth shattering, sight blurring. Broken nose for sure, teeth knocked loose in that hit. Bam. Again he smashed the features of the poor patron. Suddenly the man was limp in Eiriks hands and yellow eyes depict the sneer of a wolfs grin - blood-shed. His thirst not even started to be quenched. This time, both hands pull the man into the biggest headbutt Kelay has even seen. If Sabrina didn't step in soon, the Northman could beat this man to death with his bare hands. The entire bar stops, save for whatever the healer is doing. Luckily Eirik stands, eyes shifting from one to the next, chest rising and falling without restriction of exhaustion. "Who's next," his tone harsh. Blood dripping from his face and knuckles; an unconscious body at his feet.

Sabrina is staring Eirik down, that light far enough from her that it had no effect. The first hit has her cringing, the second gets her feet moving, and the head butt has her crouched before the man at Eirik’s feet. Like the parting of some sea half the crowd bottles at the exit and in unison the bolder had begun to converge on Eirik. Her breaths are hollow, eyes darting to the masses and back to her Lycan. In that instant, she stands, placing her own body in harm’s way to keep from what might happen to him next. Her hands press out and a shift in atmosphere radiates from around her. It can be felt more than it is seen, like a dimensional drift but even that could not explain the decompressing and re-pressuring of the field around her. One moment all life is pulled toward her, and in the next it was thrown out in a force tenfold. For a moment, Eirik would feel everything drain from him, and then like a freight train all his life-force and then some would slam back into his body. All within the walls would feel it, right down to the planks of wood that made the tables. In the silence and stillness that follows the cracks of growing wood and vine would creep into the senses. Sabrina would turn to face Eirik, pale and looking 3 days passed, before her eyes would loll and knees buckle, letting gravity take its Sabrina runs a few paces from Eirik, half of the Tavern was about to take him up on his offer, the other half and likely smarter half was racing for the door wanting no part in it. Sabs grabs someone’s baked potatoe, and pitches it at Eirik. Once his eyes find her she would throw yet another. Then, pray to all the Gods that ever existed as she takes off in a full sprint out the door. Lead him away, calm him down later. Hopefully.course.

Eirik does not stand there as the patrons try to converge, "Then it's time I bring you death," Sabrina might notice a lacing of another voice mixing with his own. Two voices where one should be, that dark magic in his arm taking hold of his mind for now. The scene would now find that Eirik is raging against the entire world. Something shifts beneath the surface of the Lycans grim visage, black and visible for all to see; its view screaming to all within. At the bursting of Sabrina's ability, purple arm raises, and the concussive blast is shielded for the briefest of moments. Eirik does indeed feel the effects, but from deep within, finds that explosion of life hurtled back at him. However, unwitting Sabrina was in her intent, she had allowed that magic to completely take over his mind. The lycan is rocked back, body toppling backward, but what rises is not Eirik. The magics in his arm springing to life, cracking at the very fabrics of reality, eyes laced in a deep purple. The patrons, are greeted with the lick of his sword, "Ignite," two voices screaming in unison. Flames scream to life; between that and the admittance of magic, the patrons back off. However, that potato smashes squarely into his face. Lost eyes shift to Sabrina, and like a triumphant warrior, his march is slow, moving through the sea of patrons unchallenged. She was in for something more frightening than she had realized.

Sabrina was headed East now, another glance making her wonder why she is relieved he is still behind her. She looks panicked that he is moving so slow, hoping he would have given more intent on the chase but he didn’t seem to care who he chased. For no reason at all she looks relived. She shouldn’t be relieved, he was closing in on her. Nothing announces what comes drifting across the night behind the crazed man. He would quite suddenly feel two metallic nooses twist and tighten around his neck, the force meant to pull him back- or if he fought, behead him… but by the will of all the damnable Gods residing in the seven hells this sonovabitch was not being allowed near Sabrina. The full weight of the 2ton beasty is consequent to the cursed male, deep growls reminiscent of war drums sinking its beat into the air. Sabrina is standing in the distance, dirty hands ran through dirty hair, completely freaking out. People had huddled near the buildings afraid to leave this showdown in their wake. Rohk had felt his Elfess’ distress, and with wraith-like speed he came down on the berserker with no hint of pulling his punches.

Eirik was mid stride when those nooses slipped 'round his neck. Unlike the scramblings of most, Eirik turns as they tighten. Sabrina had lost his attention. The soul within narrowed sights on what was coming and marked arm rises to grasp at the attack of Rohk. In an instant, the magic of the mind flies out, green, distasteful; disgusting and invariably dark beyond what is fathomed. The soul bound Eirik smirked, every ounce of pain tied to the lycan within, not itself. They were only aiding his job. The magic mentioned could easily cause rot in the surface, as the Northman within began to choke without oxygen. The voice, calling out. "Kill him and I win," as if to suggest some darker intent. Instead of continuing the spell of rot and rust, the creature raises arm, the mark searing in foul play, powering up for what was to come. Just when such a spell would be unleashed nothing comes. The hand twisted to his own purple hues in confusion. "NO!" it hissed, two voices laced where one should be. It would be evident that Eirik was fighting inside yet again, but he was still losing.

Valen , or perhaps not by the looks of him, would enter the area as the shadows would start to grow and coalesce to where there was not a speck of light shining on any surface, although the area would be far from dark. Then suddenly, as if the Shadows had voices of their own, in some angelic dirge-like chorus, they would seem to cry out in fear. "Shatter the mirrors," Red glowing eyes could be seen, "So that he can never be called," A figure, much like Valen's now. "Back from the blessed silence of his sacred vault.." And at that last choral postlude, the vampire would materialze fully as his eyes would change from red to Emerald Green, hair no longer red but a half and half of blonde and crimson. The arrival finished, the shadows would slowly start to creep back to where they had originally been, the male appearing right behind Eirik, unfortunately. In his hand was what looked like a large baton, with barbed wire made from shadows wrapped around the opposite end that was held. This other being inside Valen, had also witnessed the failed spell and with a dark chuckle, voice lower than Valen's and a bit more maculine but only by maybe two octives would say "Ya know...I think it's time someone actually shows some balls around here...and get the hell out of Valen's friend." Here he would raise the weapon over his right shoulder, assume a quick stance, "Batter up!" and with all his might give a swift swing with Vampiric speed and strength, aiming a baseball swing right towards the right ear of the posessed lycan.

Sabrina is floored by the resilience of the Lycan, begging on the inside that he just stop fighting. She can’t possibly understand what is truly going on. Magics dark in nature were noting to the beasty. He did not have remorse for the weakling inside, and the attack to his inner world were bonded to the Elfess in ways Valen had already been privy to at one point. While the hound is unrelenting the screams from the eastern walk have Sabrina gripping at her head and lunged to her knees. Rohk was of the seven hells, he lived it, no amount of evil or darkness or torture upon his elfess would crack his heart. She’d live, in the end it is all he required. One would almost argue that devilish mutt had grinned at Valen’s presence, or Maldor’s to be more exact, because with eyes that see on the spectrum of cursed stains he could not focus on the Vampire host at all. Always looking with that pupiless vortex of blackened abyss, no one could understand- Maldor would see it. Maldor would know it. As that baton reared back those tails drifted upwards, strengthening in his scorpion stance to bring the choking shell to hang like a piñata at the corrupted one’s aim. He’d steady the Lycan against the screaming protests of his elfess now pleading they leave him alone. She couldn’t stand to watch, her head swimming in a sea of hellish torment, but she hadn’t the courage to look away.

Eirik the tainted, is far more than overcome by the combination of all forces involved. Rohk lifting him into the swing, and that bat does crack against the hardened skull of the berserker, and he does fall unconscious. Body limp in the sudden surprise assault. There is no more struggle, no more taint of magic hissing at Rohk. No more glowing of eyes as silver hues close. Body swaying in the grasp of Rohk. Eirik is out cold. The mark however had eaten throught the entirety of Eiriks chan mail leaving the entire thing visible for all to see. Perhaps its was trapped there? Blood now dripps from the side of the Northmans head, the hit literally rocking his world.

Valen the Possessively Possessed's aim had been purposefully designed to hopefully send whatever was inside the Lycan flying out in style, blasting off again into the void, but at best he would settle for a knock-out, shame though. He wanted to see some ectoplasmic ejections.. Shrugging his shoulders, and a nod given to Rohk as he pokes at the limp body with the end of the bat, his eyes would trail finally to that mark. "Well well.." he would say, going over to squat on his knees and take the arm in hand, looking it over. "Next time, you wont't piss off someone who was polo champion three times running back at his own kingdom. I mean...fourth would have been nice, but you hit the ball hard enough that it busts out and up the lead horses ass...well...they tend to frown on that, ya know?" Without even looking to Sabrina, he would point to her. "You. Healer. Guna need you over here...This thing here has whatever the hell this infestation is, trapped in it, and...well...time for me to exterminate so you can heal your..well...whatever he is to you, I mean the way you were carrying on and on..." A soft chuckle here. "But I digress. I can take the skin...Or I can take the arm. Guess what I need to do is figure out just how deep it goes, and then go from there. At worse....he loses some muscle for a bit." Here he would blink, and look like he was mapping something out, then cross his hands over each other, pointer fingers the only ones out. "No, sorry, my mistake. That's -probably- the best case scenario....Oh, and by the way. You're...naga boy. Tell him thank you for the kind wedding donation, but to quit telling Valen he can't be with him like that. He knows, he's over it." with that, he would form the bat, into a knife...and start sawing to get the mark off. "Also I'm doing this for your own good...by the way, and his. So if I were you...I'd behave." Looking up now at Rohk, he would add "And thanks for the assist big guy!." An honest happy grin on his face as he is still looking at Rohk, but still sawing away.

Sabrina moves to stand, her head is residually ringing and the world is doing that thing where it centers an individual to its axis. “He’s my…” She grunts. “ None of your business.” She is salty, sore, and irritated and it is kind of overshadowing Maldor’s actions. She is nodding, disoriented but eventually, the elfess grabs hold of Eirik’s arm and stares oddly at Maldor. “No.” She is looking right at him when she says it. “Absolutely not.” Even her elvish is slurred. If one didn’t know better they’d think she just woke up in a minipool of chocolate pudding and sweat- still drunk from a weekend of partying on Tuesday and wouldn’t have a clue where her carriage was. Rohk gives Eirik’s neck another hard squeeze… so tempted right now. He knows what he did, and where he put his procreator. The thoughts are so fluid that Sabrina has no choice but to turn and punch Rohk right in that tender flesh at the base of his nose. “Really?” A sort of hiss spits out of the Hellbeast’s throat, he is laughing at her. At very least the beasty brings Eirik’s body to touch the ground so the entirety of that strain is not on that mortal little bit of bone… oh, but just one snap and their problems would be solved. She hits him again, it brings Eirik to his knees. All this movement can notbe good for the butcher, carving away at that chunk of flesh. Its like a secret Maldor and Rohk share that the cutting had even begun, and when she finally turns back her hands grip around the exposed flesh of the out-cold Lycan as she tries to force that heal in double time. She is cursing in Sylvan at both of them, though her good eye is on Eirik to make sure he didn’t wake up for this. It would be a rude awakening indeed.

The mark itself stank of old, dark magic but had not fully corrupted the arm of Eirik. It feasted on his rage, growing strength over time until it had the power to flat out overwhelm the strong minded Lycan. Maldor was on the correct path. The taint of magic did indeed go beyond the skin, and made itself present upon the very uppermost sections of muscle. It hadn't gone any further and Maldor would see this. All he needed to do what flay that flesh and Eirik would be free. It was a damn good thing he was out cold or this would hurt like hell. Sabrina's healing kicks in, and Eirik starts to heal as Maldor tries to cut flesh. Perhaps he should have words. For now, he stays unconscious, despite what is happening. Rohks sudden challenge would be dealt with at a later date, but in his state Eirik can do nothing.

Sabrina had brows strung tight, trying to ignore Maldor’s words. It wasn’t working. Rohk shrugs, point taken, he is not offended. He mostly agrees with everything stated, now there was a voice of reason! The elfess on the other hand was not impressed and it was all she had not to drop her work and really go at it with the thing marionetting Valen’s limbs… but she had to believe he was right in all this. She tries to focus harder on the task at hand, it was more difficult than it looked and while distracted by disgusting pet names and slanderous banter she did misplace that focus. While sections of muscle fiber tentacle out to find its twin, and momentary reflexes of twitching digits prove the ties bond where they should, the bloodied mass on the side of Eirik’s head had begun mirroring those effects. Internally all wounds would heal, it was her job to stay concentrated to the limb currently painting both her hands in that crimson stain. She is both offended and irritated by Maldor’s irresponsible cutting technique, and it was finally voiced in a stern tone. “Do you ever shut up?” She didn’t like him talking about Jarith either. “The last time I saw Jarith it was in Frostmaw. He wasn’t in a good mood.” And that is truly all she knew, having not spent too much time with the only other Northman she knew to ever come close to understanding his habits. “Healthy enough though, I healed him.” And in her opinion, Jarith did not need a babysitter. He was stronger than people gave him credit for.

Eirik's eyes shift open in a cry of pain. Totally unaware of what was happening; Sabrina's touch Maldors carving. It was too much! "Dammit" the northman bellowed. "What in the fraking seven hells are you doing to me?" Voice spitting through gritted teeth. Maldors carving was nearly complete, despite his sudden awareness. Just a few more slicing motions and Eirik would be free. And there it was. Freedom as that long stretch of skin is yanked free of his arm. Rohk is looked at in an instant, then Valen? Different hair color... This is the first time the Lycan had ever set eyes on Maldor. Jaws clench even tighter as free hand shifts to grab the quivering limb. "What is going on?" He finally bellowed, hoping shut up both parties. Eirik was in a weakened state of panic. Both now looked at with some form of disgust. He had no idea what happened.

Valen 's eyes would flash at the impertinant question of his vocal capabilities, but he would keep going. Not much longer and this whole mess would be over, and he would have landed himself something nice and knew to play with. "I do, occasionally. But I -know- Jarith is in Frostmaw...Either that or some shack he built in Sage, if you can't tell me where then seriously woman...Im trying to help, the least you could do is show me the same. You think I'm worried about Jarith himself? I'm more worried about what Valen will do to himself when he realizes that Jarith is intentionally keeping Valen from finding him. See...he wants me to apologize because I tried to get that stupid ass of a man to see that Valen would probably be better off with him than that Half-Elf. Personally I think Valen is crazy for getting married in the first place but good lord do you know these stupid dreams that Valen has? I mean...hell's bell's they could make a feral wolfess in heat blush. Personally, I wouldnt be surprised if Jarith is afraid that he likes Valen like that, and is hiding away because of that but then again it could just be me, and it probably was, which just goes to show I was wrong and he doesn't care two bits about him. I mean, if I tell you...that Valen will kill himself most likely if he can't be with the Northman, someone that care's next response should -not- be to just up and Vanish. Not saying it should be to give in to Valen's childish ways, but..ah. There." The knife would vanish, but there was a nice bit of skin still attaching the mark to the arm. "By the way...Don't ever ask if I can shut up." And with that, he would give a sharp tug, and rip the rest of it away, and tuck it safely into a pocket on his pants. "You tell this lycan, when he awakes, Valen needs to speak with him." and then he would look down, comments from Eirik completely missed. "Oh hey there sleeping beauty..." Maldor would say in a sing-song voice. "Look...I just did you a favor, for no charge. My lovely assistant Sharon, just healed you while I added about...the rest of your life, onto your life. You should be -happy-. I mean if it wasn't for me, goodness knows what would have happened if I had not come along when I did." with a hum he would stand, and stretch "You can repay me by finding out where Jarith is, precisely, seeing as Miss Understanding here..." A giggle at the pun. "Only knows he is in Frostmaw."

Sabrina tries to hold on to Eirik when he pulls his arm away, even if she was healing him by transferring what little energy she had left to his gaping wound, she was still administering pain relief in the same breath. But he probably didn’t realize this until after she let go. Hus muscles and veins had orientated up until those lacerations, but the skin and nerves of his external shell had several minutes to go. Sure, he was looking at her in disbelief, maybe even disgust, as she sat there in warm chocolate smears and a mixture of his blood. Rohk gives Eirik a shake, shoving his maw in his face as a warning to stay still -or else.- The Healer stands up to nudge the beasty’s face back some by way of shoulder-shove, and she takes up Eirik’s hand once more. “It happened again.” But her words cut dry at the end of that sentence as she feels a dribble of warmth streak down her lips and take part in a freefall from her chin. She wipes his blood across her face, perfect timing that he might not have seen it and would just mistake her blood for his own. She was over doing it, but the work was far from finished. She doesn’t even look at Maldor, too disgusted with the way he spoke of Valen and Jarith. Plus, she was fairly certain that Maldor’s charge had the proper equipment for Jarith’s liking. “Thank you. You can go now.” Her tone was flat and Rohk quite suddenly releases Eirik from his grip. Gravity would do the rest. Slowly the hellbeast turns, swinging twin tails in Maldor’s bubble to initiate a high-five of sorts. For a moment it looked like he was off to a stroll, then a streak of dark fog whisks his bulky frame westward.

Eirik scoffed at Maldor and his uppity nature. Saved his life, by adding his life back onto it? That made zero sense, but eyes shift to the wounded arm. Wait. The mark was gone. Not even his Lycan transformations had done that. Is that what happened? Did Eirik lose control? That damnable mark Eirik wanted to spit, but suddenly found his senses washed in unimaginable pain, Sabrinas gift had been retracted and he became fully aware of the situation. It takes a moment to adjust to the new threshold of pain, but when it happens, he finally speaks. "Jarith, got it." It's about all he can muster, eyes shift to Sabrina and the smear of his blood upon her. What have I done? Her hand is weakly squeezed. Like her, his body had endured all that it could handle. If only. "I have some herbs." Sabrina would know what he meant. "In a pouch on my belt." She had to help hid rid himself of the pain. In that pouch she would find the tools of the Berserker, which could aid him and her getting elsewhere. She might not like it, but what other choice did they have?

Valen would look to Sabrina as she, dismisses someone. "You know...just because Jarith is bi, and one hell of a miscreant, that's no need to be rude." Catching Rohk's high five, with gusto, he would say "Hey...anytime you wnat to get away from Sharon, you just let me know and we can...I dunno, do...things. Drink...hunt. Terrorize the women-folk while piss drunk. I don't care, but I just got a whole chunk of time, and I am ready to use it to it's fullest." Looking down to Eirik, he would roll his eyes. "Are you still here? Yes, Jarith, you got it, now Go -get- it." A sigh, and then a shake of his head would be given. "Look...the two of you...can do whatever the hell you want. Make babies or something, but I have to skedaddle." Turning to Sabrina, finally, briefly, he would say "And seriously. Tell the naga to knock off with the "I cant be with you" crap, you never answered me before, and I kinda take offense to that. It is -rude-...madame. You do not shyt where you eat." Turning to Eirik "Also...It would probably be best if you find a way to find him...stealthfully? Not sure why, but that's what Valen had in mind. Also..." Here, he would take out a lock of his own hair, and place it in a flask, and then hand it to Eirik. "If you do need to talk to him...give him this. Say it's from Valen or something, as an apology for Maldor's words and hope that he will come back. If he's sober, tell him it's some type of fruit juice or something...If he's drunk, tell him it's more booze." His eyes would flash, and the shadows would creep in around all of them. "Fail me in this...and I will see to it that I string you up by your own ball cords....You got -that-?" And then he would give a laugh, and a smile. "Or maybe not...who knows. I'm just a fun and whacky guy...But just know there is more than one way to wound a -man-...than what is between his legs."

Sabrina kept at least one hand on Eirik, initiating that healing-numbing factor while she pillages his pouch (not that pouch.) She nods in understanding and begins pulling out the vials by memory, forgetting the green one because this concoction is new to her. And she is tired as all hell. Her head is pressed to his shoulder. She didn’t want to admit she was getting light headed, so it is disguised as an affectionate nuzzle. “You promised me a bath anyways.” Her head lolls over in Maldor’s direction. “All that talking, its hard to keep track. I don’t speak to the Naga anymore…” She gives a sarcastic glare. “Kinda doesn’t take no for an answer.” So, at least they were agreed… the danger noodle didn’t listen with his ears. Maybe that was part of his problem. Did he just tell Eirik to Go, and Git? She is too tired to remain hostile but her eyes fall on that witchery passed over to Eirik and it is her turn to be disgusted. Jarith didn’t deserve that poison. Then she remembered what he said and scoffs in further disgust. That wasn’t poison, it was far more cruel a thing. His threat to Eirik is answered with a deepening in her one good eye. Oh if she had the time she would settle this now. She disliked him for a building list of reasons.

Eirik was confused in all of this. Despite what Maldor wanted, Eirik is much for subtley and stealth. Free hand snatches up the items given to him, if Eirik only had a concept of what Maldor was giving him, he would most assuredly, spit in his face. However the Lycan does not, comprehened it. "I will find him. But with stealth? Probably not." His attention flips back to Sabrina and he sits up finally, preparing to place his own herbal rememdy. It would take moments, and rage licking at his mind, though no where near the level of his tournament prowess. Just covered the arm. He could wash the damn thing later. Finding a new found strength he rises, "lets go Sabrina" H'e d wait for her to muster the strength to stand before speaking again. "Thank you." Eirik would finally leave with Sabrina in tow.

Valen would return that look to Sabrina, undaunted. "I suggest you keep your hands from writing, your lips from wagging, your tongue from flapping, on what just was said and handed over, kindly, please. For the record I take full accountability for that, as Valen is happily snoozing away in dreamland." He would say, tapping his head. "But I will know...The shadows always know. They always watch, and they never sleep...-I- never sleep. Cross me, and I can assure you, that many witches will die. Especially with the evidence that Valen just uncovered. You can choose the life of many innocents, or the feelings of one man who will be looked after with great care. Live or die, make their choice." It was said as a dare, and for once that playful nature was gone. This male meant business, and as far as he knew, he held the cards. Turning to Eirik now "The same goes for you." As he watched them go, satisfied that things had been made clear.

Sabrina looks at Maldor dryly. "The more dead witches the better... have at it. But as I said, I have not seen or spoken to Jarith since Frostmaw." She takes a step toward him, still keeping a hand wrapped in the crook of Eirik's are. "I am not afraid of you. I don't like you, and you are swine. If I see Jarith I will tell him whatever I damn well please." It was more to the point that she took orders from no one. It also so happened the only witch she knew was Artia and that woman was anything but innocent. Cards considered, Maldor had nothing. It was likely, unless under some circumstance Jarith found himself in need of healer, that Sabrina would never cross paths with him again. Truth be told, it wasn't her business to say anything to anyone... but oh that dolt tested her.