Thread: Shadow Dance {Pretty and Fades}

Sir. She is here. Tierian didn't say anything. He remained still for a moment, in thought, eyes peering through the window to one of the streets adjacent from the guild hall. It had been several days since his discussion with Mazzion, and just as many since he left the leader's office and immediately called upon three right hands, all of which having the order to keep an eye for this girl's arrival.He tilted his head to one side, just slightly, not even acknowledging his aide's presence. Shall I see her to you? He continued to stare out the window, watching several children playing below with a blank expression. Sir? No. No, Sir? No, Vaelyn. Thank you. You have done well. Tell the others they may call off their watch. I will let her report in to Mazzion first and then see how that goes. Surely he wi- If I may interrupt, sir- the woman interjected, her back straight, taking a sharp, nervous breath. Tierian turned, though only his upper half, hands clasped behind his back. His head turned over a shoulder to observe her, a brow raising in curiosity. This was new. ...It wouldn't be tolerated for long, but she certainly had his attention. I saw her with Maldoror, Sir. He's escorting her here. ... Tierian's eyes narrowed. Is he still with her? Last I saw, yes. I came to report in as soon as I could be sure this was their destination. Change of plans. I will not have him taint an opportunity like this for me. It wasn't often he showed emotion. Maldoror was one of the few able to elicit such a response, times like this even when he may not be particularly trying. Forget about reporting to the others for now. I want you to follow him. If he is not already, see that he separates from her. See that he does not find her again anytime soon. And if he goes looking, divert him. The understanding nod she gave was barely even seen his eyes were set, firm, Tierian stopping only to grab the halberd he'd set against the wall upon coming into the room - while most in their order preferred staves he went with polearms, its length and its blade engraved with just as many runes as any else. Stepping out the door, he turned left and headed for the building's front, burgundy cape flowing with his steps. Thankfully he was prepared for her. Tierian hung another left, his booted stride heavy, his armor clattering together, then quickly descended the deep crimson carpet of a staircase. He had spent the last few days considering several ways to go about breaking her, several different options he would go about to crush her spirit in every way such a thing could, before turning her into a tool that would both aid her new home and disgrace her last. ...Eventually he'd decided on all of the options, enjoying the thought of each, and simply needing to decide what order they should be applied in. She sounded scared by her letter, alone and desperate. It felt like the type of desperation where you accepted the first thing that came along despite how bad it was, having no other choice. He liked that. It made his job easy, but still, if she really proved to be that out of her element already then this would be cake. A babe in the goddamn woods. Turning another corner, heading down another set of stairs, the armored mage stopped halfway in his descent- halfway, when his eyes picked out this woman, when he picked out Aislyn like a sore thumb. Standing there dressed like that. His fingers tightened around the polearm. His eyes narrowed. Under any other circumstances an Ascendril inside the Sciomancy's halls would be killed on the spot. Instead, Little girl, little girl, he whispered, starting to move again, slow step by slow step. A wicked grin. Run while you can... When he reached the bottom step his face was still again, his thoughts back to business. You are not a Sciomancer, he called out as he approached her across the floor, twenty-five feet away now, and you do not look like much of an Ascendril. Twenty feet. The halberd was held out and low to his left side, its curved axehead hovering inches above the ground. Fifteen. Does the Sciomancy take those too weak to make it in your halls? Is that what they tell their youth nowadays? Ten feet now. He started to circle around her, coming around Aislyn's left side. His head inclined slightly, and with it the small gems from his hat moved about his temples. Funny. I could have sworn we were something to be feared. Seven feet. We are certainly not the place for dead weight. Five. He continued to circle around before stopping at her front. I read your letter. Starion, is it? Looking her in the eyes, What exactly do you believe you have that we might want? ...What did you hope to accomplish, coming here?