RP:Healing Abduction

From HollowWiki

Synopsis: Lanara is in the Frostmaw Tavern, injured, and denying treatment from Savio and Linn. Out of nowhere the witch is abducted be Desparrow, and a pursuit, involving Krystan, takes place.

Desparrow :: A spot just inside the door, the space itself seemed to warp, bending and twisting until the fragile cloth of reality opened and he appeared before that space returned to normal. This was his entrance!

Lanara wakes up in the oversize chair, before the hearth, looking bewildered and confused. Long locks of hair that were tied in a loose braid, are now falling unruly around her pretty face. Sleep is evident in her chocolate brown hues as she stifles a yawn, and takes in her surroundings. Oh. Right. She fell asleep at the tavern last night, after she was forced to return, as she couldn’t make the trek by herself, in her injured state. As if suddenly remembering, she lifts up the oversized men’s shirt and peeks at her wound, growing pale, despite the warmth of the fireplace a mere few feet from her seat. “Oh no…” She murmurs, wincing as she lowers the shirt and rest her chin on an open palm. Think fast, Lana… She ponders how to head back to the cottage, or how to clean her wound in a public tavern, without drawing too much attention. If Krystan or Talyara were to catch her here in the first place, they’d have her head. Especially since she never returned home last night. Shifting painfully in her seat she eyes each of the patrons quickly, before settling her gaze on Savio. Was he a healer?

Linn pushed open the door to the tavern to make his way inside with little frost on his armor to speak of; he had just come back from another trip around Xalious and Sage, his weighted manner speaking for the amount of walking he had just done today. His gaze met with Drargon’s for a split second and a mutual nod before the barkeep was off preparing a bowl of stew and a flagon of cider for the enchanter. Lanara’s pained words immediately caught his attention as he neared the hearth, causing him to turn his head curiously to find her pale as if she had just seen a ghost. Making his way over he set his pack down in front of her before looking her up and down to gauge her condition, “What’s wrong?”

Savio notices the woman in pain and moves to her at hearth but stops when he sees someone else. Maybe he had better wait but what if she needed d non magic help, he didn't know what to do so he just moved toward the hearth sitting alongside trying to warm up sticking his hands into the fire.

Desparrow didn't bother one bit with any of the ridiculous commotion going on, having warped in from nowhere. Instead he took a seat at a table and decided to watch the show. If anything truly interesting happened... well the sorcerer might bother to intervene.

Lanara meekly peers up at Linn, though she’s rather relieved that it’s the enchanter and not her lover or sibling. Sighing, she inches slightly nearer to her friend and speaks in a soft whisper, her eyes drifting to Savio and back to Linn. “Two evenings ago, I did a mercy kill on a frost drake. It retaliated, before she died… I took a dagger to the ribcage and was smashed against the cliff wall. I’m fine… Just a little sore.” A horrible liar, she feels her cheeks flush, though no color manages to flood her pale cheeks. Shivering, she wraps her arms about her upper half, careful not to disturb what remains of her stitches. “How are you, Linn? Taly? Last I saw of her, she was rather upset… Ayras moved from the cottage, though she will get over it. Bigger and better awaits!” Feigning a half-smile, the elf attempts to sit back and appear restful, though she clenches her jaw to bite back from yelping in pain.

Linn turned his head slightly, his expression skeptical at the statement that she was fine. How many times has he heard that from the sisters when things weren’t in fact fine? When she asked about him and Talyara he just shook his head in disagreement of the topic. “We’re fine.” He dismissed the subject, “I think our bigger worry should be you right now.” A pause as his gaze went down to her torso where she had supposedly been stabbed, “Where’d you get hit?” He was serious, but not judgmental. To him this was practically a fact of life. Just another problem to sort through.

Savio says to Lanara, "You don't sound just a little sore, in fact you sound like you were getting an infection."

Lanara stiffens and crosses her arms firmly across her chest, shaking her pretty head. “I’m. Fine.” She says, through a clenched jaw, though her eyes quickly glance to the left in right, as though she was afraid the truth would be revealed. “Honest. It was just a little knick, nothing to worry about…I’m wearing the same shirt, so that’s why there’s all this blood.” Swallowing hard, she momentarily dismisses Linn and looks around the room for Taylor. Her beloved feline was the one that had carried her back to the tavern in the middle of the night, and the witch was terrified that she had darted off to fetch a healer. –That- would be mighty embarrassing, especially since she was lying through her teeth to one of her closest friends. In actuality, she didn’t want to take her shirt off before strangers and she was tired of others treating her as though she were an invalid. As Savio addresses her, she narrows her eyes on the male, though her tone is soft and surprisingly reassuring. “Oh no, you are mistaken. I am fine… Really. My sister patched me all up!”

Linn narrowed his gaze when she insisted on not allowing any worry before he spoke up, tone dead even, “Show us what happened. Daggers to the ribs can do a lot more than a small nick in the right spot.” He was no assassin, but he understood the deadliness of a wound in just the right spot, it was a simple matter of precision. He looked right to the blood, checking it for any gloss that would signal continued bleeding. A glance was offered to Savio with a respectful, if knowing, smile as he shook his head slightly at the witches’ continued insistence. He turned right back to Lanara to meet her gaze, “Come on. Show it.” He commanded.

Savio says to Lanara "I think Drargon can provide us with the back room for this, there is no need for us to abandon privacy.”

Lanara whimpers and shakes her head, hugging her knees to her chest, as beginning to cry. Clearly, the woman did –not- want to remove her clothing, or be fussed over. The witch was at her wits end, as of late, and between not feeling well and the constant pain, she was not in her normally friendly mood. “Stay. Away.” She warns, trying to curl up on the chair, in a ball full of pain. The wound was looking worse than when she initially was injured, as most of the stitches had popped, and there was a faint green tinge to her skin. A foul odor arose whenever she lifted Krystan’s shirt, and there was pus and blood that continuously oozed from the wound. Luckily, it wasn’t a direct hit to anything vital, though the hit was deep enough and infected enough to cause her severe harm, if she didn’t seek treatment. “I’m fine…” She reassures, eyeing both men warily, as though they wished to strip her of her clothing in this very tavern. Perhaps she had some sort of trauma in her past that led her to not want to lift her shirt, or maybe she was terrified of what they would have to do to heal her? Whatever the reason, the witch glares at Linn, defiant as ever.

Savio looks at Lanara, "I can't force you to accept my help, neither can I refuse you your due right as a living being the right to live and survive your wound, but you need to make the decision, it’s your life, and you may choose to do with it as you see fit. I will be by my sister if you change your mind."

Linn caught the smell and the sight of the discolored wound, immediately grimacing. “That’s not something that’s going to get better with time.” He stated evenly, but slightly more relaxed, knowing what the problem was now, but any traces of it were replaced with a new urgency. His gaze turned to Savio, the enchanter himself lacking the resources or the knowledge of how to deal with an infected wound like this short of keeping it well cleaned. “You have anything to deal with something like this? I could seal it back up but infections…” he shook his head, “I can’t help much.” He’d take Lanara to somewhere more privately if he really had to, but his current worry was dealing with the more immediate danger at hand. At least he kept his voice low, taking care not to announce Lanara’s condition to everyone.

Lanara frowns and shifts her gaze from one male to the other, before resting her gaze on Savio. “Thank you for the offer, but I will be fine… Truly. I have fended off worse injuries, in the past.” Wondering when she had become such an adept liar, she returns her chocolate gaze to Linn and sighs as he gets a whiff of her infection, and shakes her head. Had he seen the actual wound, he likely would have fainted, as she was having a hard time staying awake, herself! “I will be alright. I just need to sleep it off. Truly. Thanks for your concern, doll…” Desperately grasping for a diversion, she looks around the tavern and rests her gaze momentarily on Desparrow, as a faint grin appears on her face. “I think that man slapped Taly’s butt… Earlier. I think you need to go question him.” It was devious, and untrue, but Lana just wanted to be left alone, and not have to undress or be treated.

Desparrow raises a brow towards Lanara... What the hell did he have to do with this rather amusing show before him, other than as a spectator?

Savio says to Linn "I know quite bit actually, I have worked on almost every species in this world and I know ways to fight infections and keep them from coming back, but what I cannot do is have her accept my help, she needs to ask for my help of her own free will.”

Linn sighed and rolled his shoulders as if this was a real fight, his eyes narrowing in a focus that bore straight back into Lanara’s. “It won’t be long before you don’t have a choice in staying awake.” Savio’s words only prompted a tight sigh. “Soon she won’t have any free will to speak of.” He turned back to the witch with another shake of the head in disbelief, “No one’s going to die because of a slap on the butt. If you don’t let that wound get treated I know exactly what’s going to happen. You’re going to pass out in fever, and then you’re going to get helped anyway.” He wasn’t going to be shaken from this one bit, knowing that she risked death with her stubborn pride.

Savio waited noticing his sister rising from her seat and slithering over. Whispering into his ear she mentioned her idea and then to Linn. "I could swallow her, keep her inside of me, we could take her to a safer location with more privacy then I could regurgitate her and both of you could do your work."

Desparrow started out with a chuckle but that quickly became a rather annoying boisterous laughter border lining on the manic cackling of the insane. Standing from his spot his claws extended and his hand became as incorporeal as the phantoms that roamed amongst the dead. A short chant and the forcing of his will upon a small pocket of the fabric of reality he sliced open a rift in space. It wouldn't stay open long but looking through it one could see amidst the pearlescent haze what was perhaps a lush greenery and trees. Dashing forward towards Lanara he would scoop her up in one arm, bracing her against his body and then with his free hand release a magic pulse strong enough to send them flying backwards directly towards this gate which would close shortly after they passed through. The experience of travelling through this extra dimension could be confusing, debilitating, but overall better if one didn't try to wrap one’s mind around it. Those that would try to follow would only have hints by a clump of sod and some bramble left behind from wherever he had taken them too.

Lanara glares at Linn, fury in her eyes, as she is about to retort with a vicious speech of her own. However, her anger is short lived, as she just notices the naga that slithers over to the two males, whispering with her forked tongue in their ears. Terrified beyond belief, as the witch’s greatest fear was of snakes, she nearly screams, as she remains immobile in her chair. What were they planning to do?! A mixture of fright, anger, and intense pain, the woman was a hot mess, as she tries to plan an escape route, though her eyes never quite deter from the naga. Suddenly, to her right, she sees the male that she earlier rumored having spanked her sister, dashing towards her chair. Unable to rise in time, and too weak to plan an attack, she’s clutched against his form and tossed into a portal. A soft whimper escapes her as the male’s strong grasp presses against her ribcage, though she is somewhat grateful that the snake creature didn’t get her, instead. What would await her next?

Savio :: Sombra still wondered why her brother had told her to go after them while he went to an herb shop, but she had found them at last. Slithering up to Linn she asked. "You find them?”

Linn’s eye twitched at the idea of swallowing her before he whispered back, “Too much movement. I can carry her if needed without any jostling.” He barely had time to finish before Desparrow ripped open a portal and blasted Lanara and himself through it. The enchanter barely had time to recompose himself and leap after them, the portal’s magic stabilizing for a brief second in his presence before he was met with mind-warping geometry where reality broke down. He was rather awestruck by the whole thing, though it lasted precious few seconds before he had been dumped out on the grass in front of the lycan and the wounded witch, getting to his knees with a shake of the head and a slow blink at what he had just gone through. It was –awesome-.

Savio :: Sombra gazed at the two the lycan and the witch. She recalled a lycan that she had once met when she was young and now hoped that maybe she would be able to reason with him, if she had to, she would offer to mate for the girl's life. So she slithered out of the bushes to face him.

Desparrow stepped out of the portal, with Lanara, compliant or not, nestled safely against him in his arm. He was a master of magic but had not become an expert in spatial or temporal magic yet and that even as small as it was, was taxing on his brain. Sure his lycanthrope regeneration would kick in and heal the damage but it was already done and was apparent by the stream of coagulated blood that had oozed out of his nose and stopped at his upper lip before it dried. Des had little concern for Linn or Savio and his sister at this point, not caring if they followed or were even capable of doing so. Gently he laid the woman Lanara down in a soft patch of grass that had been the flattened bed where one of his mana-gorged wolves often laid to rest. It was still warm from the great beast's natural heat. The scene around them was Des' and his pack's territory. The wolves were nowhere to be seen at the moment, monitoring the border with their constant patrol. Around them old blood of previous kills spattered the growth and trees, along with bits of fur with dried gore still hanging from branches. Small bits and bones kicked into kept piles. It was just creepy enough to keep the wary and foolish away. Des couldn't guarantee the safety of trespassers on his territory when he wasn't around. "You are injured... I might be able to help, that wouldn't require you to do much at all... I can't make guarantees however if you see a silent rest then you are welcome to it.”

Lanara clings to the stranger’s form, her petite frame pressed tight against his, as Desparrow steps from the portal, with her held gently in his arms. Once she’s placed on the ground, she attempts to crawl away from the lycan, wondering what the hell was going on. As the smell of pine reaches her nostrils and she sees lush greenery, she sighs heavily. She was going to heaven… That must be it! Who else would return her to the forest in such a state? Surely the male didn’t mean to abduct her! Why would he? Yes, she was beyond lovely on the eyes, but he didn’t even know her. And she was wounded. Whatever could he possibly desire with damaged goods? Sighing, she turns around to face her captor, when she notices that the naga and Linn had somehow joined them, also. Perhaps they had followed the duo into the portal? Were they here to rescue her, or to harass her, further? And… Where was Krystan when she truly needed him? She wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to him, before she passed away! She had left the previous evening to have a drink, her condition worsened, and now she was being held captive in Sage Forest! Her lover wouldn’t even know where to find her, and what about her sister?! Chocolate hues take in more of the forest, the bones, the dried fur, and the blood soaked ground. Was this a burial area? Fear hits the witch now, as she unsteadily rises to her feet, eyeing the trio with an intimidating look in her eyes. Lana’s need for survival was kicking in. At Desparrow’s somewhat soothing words, she arches a thin brow, and nips her lower lip. Was he being serious? Or was this a part of some plot? Uncertain and not having much of a choice, the witch takes a step nearer to the male, avoiding Linn at the moment, as he was beside the snake beast. “Yes… You may heal me.” She stammers, as a single tear trickles over her pale cheek.

Linn managed to take much of the portal-going in stride when it happened from the simple adrenaline of the situation, though he was still left on all fours where he had fallen, head throbbing from the kind of trip that he had just taken for the first time. His own wild magic, the weakening of barriers between what was real and what was immaterial, seemed to have carried him through without too many physical repercussions; an odd first when dealing in these kinds of things. It was severely taxed by the effort though, leaving him with an overwhelming weakness that seemed to turn his own limbs to jelly under him before he crumpled to the ground, taking steady breaths in an attempt to gather himself while the scene unfolded around him.

Savio :: Sombra cricked her neck which sounded like a long line of rattles because of her spines length. Spying a wolf that was behind her she closed her eyes and static rolled down her body discharging at the wolf stunning it into unconsciousness, its heart stopped, repeating it the creature arose and fled yelping in fear causing other wolves to flee that were nearby. Sombra looked at Des, "you know, I have to say I was expecting a little more excitement on that ride, what else you got, and before you heal the girl if that’s what you are going to do, can I ask what you plan to do to her."

Desparrow allowed Lanara her moment to calm down and relax. No one was going to die here tonight... Until Sombra attacked one of his wolves that had come out of hiding. His heart skipped a beat. This creature attacked one of his pack. What was it doing!? Anger began to well up inside of him even as his body went deathly still. No! He couldn't deal with that yet. A psychic push ordered all of his pack to recede for now, their Alpha had business to tend to. "I merely saw a girl suffering the company of a few that couldn't do a thing to help her. There is a reason that a notion such as seeking help exists. I am going to heal her, and then she may do whatever she pleases. If she wishes you gone, then you will be escorted -forcefully- out of my territory for her to get some rest. Unless I expel you myself. Now if you would be patient I will tend to you in a moment. I have this to work with." And then he moved to kneel beside Lanara and hold a hand over her. Magic energy flowed into the ground beneath him, flowing from his body in ribbons to saturate the soil. Second’s later roots of all sorts, from the grass, bushes, all manner of small vegetation rose from their underground sanctuary and bored into the flesh of Des' body through the legs, feet and lower abdomen. Much like the veins were the circuitry of life for our bodies the roots were both the veins and nervous system of the entire forest. Magic, Des' magic to be specific forced a bond between his living body and the forest around him and in the few excruciating seconds that had him with a agonizing face plastered on the forest had become one with him. When it was done not only did the pain fade but his own wounds began to heal immediately. The lycanthrope could feel his heart beating in tune with the pulse of life of the land around him. The small conscious in each blade of grass and flower, its will to grow and live, it brought tears to his eyes to know what he had to do next... Des tapped into the little bit of necromancy he knew and drained the life from the nearby vegetation he was connected to and as he gathered its life force the grass, leaves and stems turned brown, withered and crumbled as they became brittle but their energy would save Lanara's life. Eyes closed he located it within his own body and forced it to move to his hand where it was expelled in healing rays, a warm glow that was like the embrace of a mother's love. These rays would first sink deep into the body, the bones and make their way up; expelling infection and any manner of foreign bacteria before healing the wound itself. When it was done Des made the roots painfully recede but this too left him exhausted and he had to stay where he was for several moments to recuperate from this effort.

Lanara glares at the naga so forcefully it appears as though she would burn the snake with her beautiful orbs, if she possessed such a power. Who was this wretched snake beast that –dared- to harm an innocent animal in front of them? Shaking with a combination of fever, anger, and fear, the witch is about to seek vengeance on them all, the first being the naga. However, her quest for revenge is short-lived as Desparrow nears her, and kneels at her side. Wide-eyed, the elf turns to say a smartass comment, when she sees the lycan’s face contorting in pain. Wanting to help in his discomfort, despite the fact that he recently abducted her, against her own will, she extends a hand and as soon as the two make contact, her own facial expression changes. Lana suddenly smiles, and closes her eyes, as she falls back and presses her slender back to the forest floor. Her pain was gone, and any wounds she had recently suffered from were mended, painlessly, at least on her part. Not wanting the feeling to end, she basks in the healing rays, and practically purrs in glee. A moment later the feeling was gone and the roots had receded from Desparrow, but at a cost to his own health. Opening her beautiful eyes, the empath shyly peers around at those gathered. Linn was bend over and still reeling from the magical teleportation they all just traveled through, the naga was –flirting- with the lycan after she killed one of his pack, and the male that had healed her was at her side and trying to recuperate. With a shaky voice, she sits up and watches the male, still not sure of the whole situation. “Um… Are you alright?”

Krystan‘s expression was one of unimaginable fear and rage as Drargon informs him at what transpired in the tavern not even moments ago. “Aye, your lass was taken, along with a group by some magic using one I’ve seen around before.” With his attention not shifting from the giant sized tankard he was cleaning, he continues with. “Took a few people with him there. Though, didn’t sound exactly like they wanted to go.” That was all the assassin needed to hear. He was out the tavern once more and running with all haste his more than capable body could endure to the southern outpost of the Eyrie. Experienced riders of various flying mounts, the sellsword knew that if anyone can get a person down the mountain and to his lover, it would be this lot. He is greeted by the guards of the outpost, in which a brief exchange of words and a large pouch filled with gold coins is offered for the fasted mount and most experienced rider they had on shift currently. He gets what he is after in the form of a sleek winged serpent and a lithe woman with many scars clad in a mix of leather and fur armor who speaks with a heavy accent. “Oi, I be da one to get ya where ya needin’ getting’ to.” The assassin moves without waiting, clutching the pendant that he gifted the twin too, it translates his lover’s location to him. Many scrying devices and items are about the land, and right now the man is grateful to have purchased this not even a night before. Within moments they are off, diving down the mountain to gain momentum as the experienced rider uses the wind to her advantage to get the best push off the face of the Xalious Range, before her mount ever has to truly exert its own power to propel them through the night. The Xalious Tree itself comes into view, and passed with startling speed. The trip to southern sage from the peaks of the Xalious mountain range happens in a remarkable amount of time, with the assassin guiding the rider towards Lanara’s position by using the pendant’s power. The trees would be harder to spot them through if he didn’t have the pendant and she wasn’t an experienced rider from the Eyrie. But with three sets of eyes, and the pull of the pendant, Lanara is found. Taking her mount in a downward spiral so he can hop off at a safe distance, Krystan takes note of the scene before him. Of a naga fighting with wolves, of Linn standing there seemingly yet again out of it, and of Lanara with some unknown man standing near her who matches the description given to him by Drargon himself. Rage fuels the man’s initial reactions, but experience has him leaping from the flying mount to land in a forward moving roll that helps not only break his fall but to use the momentum to spur him into a run, straight for Lanara. Blades are drawn, a sword in his right hand, a wicked looking dagger in the next. He speaks no warning, he says nothing. He has come for Lanara, to retrieve his beloved, and he will cut down anyone who dares to try and stop him.

Linn’s eyes snapped open as the waves of magic pulsed across the ground, washing over his own being like water. He didn’t draw on it very much, but what had came by him managed to dispel some of the weakness that had pervaded him, allowing him to focus on the healing that took place and the surroundings. It was where he had seen the twisted werewolf before, that he very nearly fought himself. That he was now here, healing Lanara without any reason to do so dispelled the previous notions that the enchanter may have had, for now the lycan had proven himself someone to be respected. Slowly he rose to his feet, leaving his pack on the ground to make the process a bit easier before he worked the rest of the sluggishness away, drawing on whatever magic that may have been left free in the air to restore himself. The wordless rapid footfalls turned his head to find Krystan sprinting straight for everyone with blades flashing, eyes going wide at the blood about to be spilled. His only course of action was to prepare for the worse, his hand reaching into the pouch at his side to retrieve the crystal that projected his shield, its weightlessness making it ready to fly where it was needed as fast as the enchanter could think or will. To him, this fury only put Lanara in danger as much as everyone else here, and was something that had to be stopped. He turned to face the charging assassin with no other weapons in a gesture of peaceful defense. If Krystan tried to get too close to Linn, he would find the ground lacking all traction regardless of what might be under his feet. “Stop!” he commanded desperately at the charging Krystan from his stance.

Desparrow stayed where he was as he gathered his energy for whatever was to happen next. "I-I'll be fine." muttered to Lanara. The entry/exit wounds of the roots had already sealed over with blood but the whole experience left him drained. To know the pain of the plants as he forced their relinquish of life to help this girl whom he had no idea about. Why did he do it? He couldn't say but all the same it was done and the lycanthrope was glad to have helped. (A note for Linn.. The wolves, just like the air around had been siphoning off of Des' raw magic that he generates in his body. He would be able to use it for what he needed to.) A short moment later, upon Krystan's initial arrival in Des' territory did a warning howl from one of the wolves on patrol signal out to the Alpha (Des). On top of that did several mourning howls sound off for the fallen comrade and although perhaps no one else knew what they meant they brought Desparrow back into the moment, striking him with even further sadness but also bringing back that repressed rage that naga wench Sombra created when she dared to strike down one of his pack. Angry tears traversed down his cheeks before dripping onto the ground, the adrenaline rush that followed giving him the strength to grit his teeth against pain and sorrow to stand and face his aggressor. Linn as well seemed to have regained his strength and had bothered to take a stand. As far as these events unfolding however this was a direct assault and the assassin had no permission to be here, let alone come close to the one whom he had just tended to. "Lady.. If you know this man and wish to go then I will not stand in your way however if he is here and molesting you (not sexual. the other meaning of aggressively harass), then I will certainly remove him from yours... and my presence."

Lanara turns from Desparrow as the pendant she had worn faithfully around her neck began to slowly heat up, and slightly vibrate. Krystan! He must be on his way! Delighted to be reunited with her lover, she rises to her feet and with a new sprint to her step as she was recently healed, she quickens her pace. However, as Linn jumps into action, she knows that this meeting is to be an action packed one of chivalry, and she shakes her head. “Kry! No!” Terrified that he would be harmed, the witch dashes towards Linn, and aims to collide against the male’s side, knowing it would be painful for her, as he was always donning the best of armor. Lana hated to see the assassin injured in any way, even if Linn was protecting herself and her healing captor. “Linn, stop it! Lower your shield! Stop it!” A quick glance over her shoulder was given to the sobbing lycan, and another pang in her gut had surfaced. The male, though he did abduct her from the Frostmaw Tavern, had healed her, and suffered a great loss to his pack tonight. Desparrow didn’t deserve to see further bloodshed, so hopefully Linn’s shield wouldn’t harm her love, and Kry would calm down enough not to murder the male that had awkwardly healed her. “Kry! Stop! Just… Stop! I’m okay! It’s all okay!” Jumping up and down on her heeled boots, she waves her arms over her head, praying that he would stop and that this all could be discussed.

Krystan is a man with a purpose, and his purpose is to ensure his woman is safe. But the assassin is not a fool hearty reckless naïve who charges forth into battle without a plan. Yes, distance was closed, but factors were taken into account beforehand when he was air-born. He is outnumbered, Linn seems to even be sticking up for this stranger, and now Lanara is yelling at him to stop. Angry? Yes. Stupid? No. Emotions are something this man has spent the better part of two decades mastering. He won’t be ruled by them now. Before Lanara plows into Linn, Krystan is there, catching his lover and spinning about due to the colliding momentum of their separate charges. Swords fall, hands catch hold of the witch’s frame, and rage is replaced by relief, which would wash over the empath as they hold on to one another. They fall to a kneeling position due to him catching her, but he doesn’t care. “Dammit woman…” he says, before looking over to the stranger. Here, a glare is offered, as he calls out. “The hell is wrong with you, you damnable idiot! You could have injured her more, trying to play the damn hero.” The man was pissed still, and he examines Lanara, he can feel the excess magic in the air. He can tell she’s been healed, a bit better than Taly’s work, but still, his venom filled words are shot back towards the stranger. “There are more than enough capable healers’ right there –in- Frostmaw. Shamans and priests, oh… and her sister!” Krys rises now, still pissed but done with this situation. He finishes with. “Listen here, “hero”, next time you feel like you’ve the right to just do whatever the hell you want, don’t. Because the next time it involves –my- woman, you’ll find my blade sticking through your scrawny little chest, and watch as I tear out your F@*%king heart with my bare hands!” He is a man. He speaks like one. It is here the stranger seemingly is dismissed, but those who know Krys knows he isn’t that stupid. The look in his eyes is a serious one, and he reaches down to offer Lanara a hand, saying. “Let’s go home.”

Linn stood there for a second in the swirl of activity that came, Desparrow voice finally giving him some solution. The assassin would hopefully take the cue that they wouldn’t interfere if they backed off. “He’s here for her, back off.” He stated before beginning to move to do the same before Lanara collided with him, sending him sprawling to the ground with the sudden surge forward. She wouldn’t hit him as painfully as she’d expect given his lack of resistance (if anything he rolled with it), unless she fell on him afterwards. The commands afterwards being useless given that they were already fulfilled. The words directed his way he just sighed; he’d leave this whole ordeal for later. When the wish to leave finally came he just waved the two off from the ground. “Go.” He stated, somewhat frustrated with the vehement anger of the assassin. He’d roll onto his back and look up towards the forest canopy afterwards with another sigh in thought about everything that had just happened.

Desparrow was breathing heavily, his once violet eyes were shining a bright cerulean. The violet had been actually the result of the insanity; the entity known of Dsperil that had existed within his mind vanquished and absorbed into his psyche as it was repaired returning the lycan to his normal senses quite a bit ago during a ritual held with several psychics. Once more he had to suppress that sorrow for his fallen brethren to deal with this man that dared to think that even in Des' territory he could get away with threats regardless of the circumstance. The lycan was civil enough, and any in his presence was expected of the same. This man however was none of this in fact he was offensive on many levels, the extent of which had Desparrow more than angry, in fact the threats left him literally trembling with greater anger. "Think what you want you insect of a man." as he spoke motes of ether, or raw magic flowed from his pores like the spores of a fungus, soaking into the ground, bonding with the air and even rising high into the sky. They shined pink at first but were in fact opalescent, constantly changing colors. "Sure there could have been quite a few people that could have helped her but -I- did, and here you are berating me for my effort, for going out of -my- way to help someone I had no idea who was. There is a reason I don't like many people, you are one of those reasons. I help her and you hate me for it. On top of that YOU have NO idea who I am what I am capable of and without any knowledge you still come stomping into MY territory thinking you can do as YOU please!" Des had actually moved intentionally forward so that the moon could directly shine on him without being obstructed by the thick canopy. Just enough light had struck him to fill the lycan with a growing strength. "Insult me, threaten me, dare to say that there are greater magic wielders than I!?" The magic he was releasing was reacting to his will causing the ground to tremble in an expanding radius of first five feet then five meters. Air directly around him trembled, flashes of light all around him as the oxygen itself was superheated and exploded into plasma before winking out of existence just as quickly as they came. Where the ether had collected in the sky did highly charged clouds form cracks of lightning releasing claps of thunder, just another sign of the sorcerer's growing fury. Should Krystan dare to say another word he'd be lucky to leave alive.

Lanara spins about and clings to Krystan’s frame, grateful that his rage seems to have turned to relief, upon their touch. The witch lowers her head in shame as she bites her trembling lower lip and stares at the forest floor. “It’s –my- fault, Kry… I shouldn’t have left the cottage last night. I just… I was so sick of being in bed and being fussed over by you and Taly… So I went for a little drink at the tavern. I only stayed for a few minutes, but I was so weak that I must have passed out on the way back home. Taylor drug me through the snow and rocks and left me in Drargon’s care, and I assume he left to find you or Talyara. I don’t know… Then Linn and this man with a snake creature kept telling me to let them heal me… But I couldn’t! I was too weak to get to the cottage and I didn’t want anyone seeing me without a shirt on. I… I just wanted to be left alone. And then I was abducted and put through this portal! But… My abductor ended up saving me, and he doesn’t wish for bloodshed. So, I am sorry… I feel this is all my doing and I never mean to upset you.” The entirety of the evening, the woman was strong and had only shed a single tear, though now her strength was shattered, as she bursts into tears in the assassin’s grasp. As Linn attempts to usher them off, she sniffles and accepts Krystan’s offered appendage, nodding in consent. Home sounded so good, right now. About to depart, she turns around as Desparrow issues a rebuttal to her beloved, and this has the witch narrowing her eyes. “Please. Enough has happened tonight, and I do –not- wish to have to use my regained energy to harm the one that has healed me. I thank you for healing me, but we are on our way…. Imagine how –you- would feel if you came to the tavern to see a loved one, only to discover they were magically transported to another location, against their will? A stranger took them no less, and the one they love is deeply injured… I’m sure you would have a similar reaction had you come into a situation like this… Please, be understanding, and leave my love alone. He has followed his heart, as did you, with healing me tonight.” That said, the witch gently tugs on Krystan’s hand, trying to pull him in the direction he had come.

Krystan is unimpressed by this man’s attempt to display his power. He has seen plenty like him, as they are a dime a dozen. Tiphareth, Rheven, Svilfon, Satoshi, Daath, Tenebrae. Those are true arcane masters. Thea, Sophie, Mahri and now Talyara and Lanara held incredible powers due to their bond with nature. Whatever this guy thinks he is, it’s almost laughable. His domain? Really? The urge to end this miserable fool of a little man is nearly overwhelming. But, Lanara’s desire to be done with it all is what tugs the assassin from his darker thoughts of using this arrogant man’s face as a doormat for the cottage. The fool boasts, yet he is waved off as he leaves with his woman to venture home. Linn is ignored too; as all the sellsword cares for is the fact his woman is ok. He offered the only warning this man will ever get, ever gain, and only Lanara could sense how very sincere he was with his warning, due to her empathic abilities. It wasn’t words to him. He whole heartily believes he’d slaughter that man if he ever dares venture close to Lanara, ever again. The pair walk off, leaving Linn and Desparrow alone in the woods with overgrown fungi hanging about. Krystan was done dealing with self-proclaimed masters of imaginary domains.

Desparrow would have gladly shown that although he was nowhere near as well known as the other masters of magic, his own level of power was not far from them, if not just a different school. Still the lycanthrope had a brother to bury and a snake to kill. If Lanara thought that she would get in his way she too was mistaken but for now he expected them to leave and quickly. Any further interruption and he'd probably lose himself. By no means was his release of magic a display of power but instead a preparation of a much more complex arcane weave with which he would deliver his unbridled wrath. "Leave." With that he too stalked off through the trees to prepare for other dealings.