Thema: Whol l'olath ilhar

[Phaerven]

 "Bravery? I would talk about proper assessment of a situation instead," Zhadristan says. "We did not end up as that beholder's puppets."

[Sheiriya]

 Sheiriya shrugs and replies "Just a few moments ago I wanted to have a little chat with that beholder but I didn't find it. I think it would have been more communicative than the dragon last time."

[Mikayla]

 Malifice listens but replies in the drow sign language as she moves quietly down the passage.  Very well.  Do you think a proper assessment of the situation would reveal the arms of my fallen cousin, who you were able to dispatch, are now so valuable as to risk becomming the eye-tyrant's puppets, a fate you seem to have some respect for, when previously they were not?  I find I desire neither her remains nor her effects so badly as to risk my life in their pursuit...but...as I have indicated, I will do as the Yathrin commands.  She represents the will of the Goddess here and so her will I shall do.  

[Sheiriya]

 "Not really. But if my oppinion changes I may come back here."

[warlockco]

 "Foolish Pride will get us no where, especially when we had withdraw in the first place. Without proper preparation and ground of our choosing, a Beholder isn't within our abilities at this time. That cavern is too much in the Beholder's favor," says Keth

"Malifice, is there a place in the area where we can rest? Once we do so, I will let you and Nata'al know more," says Keth

[Mikayla]

 Malifice looks back at Keth and nods slightly, signing Yes, Yathrin, there is a place perhaps two miles south of here where we might rest.  We are more than two days from the city however.  When we get closer, I know a route into the city that is too small for the fire giants.  We can use it to avoid their sentries.

[warlockco]

 "Excellent then," says Keth

[Oyn]

 With no sign of the beholder persuing in the last few minutes (guessing thats about how long its been) Iira puts his bow away. He starts to strike up a conversation with Zouhlnor.

[Zanan]

 Talice fades into view near the two brothers. "Like that spell," she whispers more to herself than anyone in particular. Towards Keth she signals: "Am I right to assume that she will be your scout ... for the time being?" (pointing at Malifice) The bald headed female bows her head slighty towards the newcomer and introduces herself in a low voice as "Talice, of the Shadowlord."

[Mikayla]

 Malifice looks Talice over for a moment.  "I am an officer, not a scout.  I will give directions to whomever is scouting and they can follow them.  Now, what do you mean 'of the Shadowlord?"  

[Phaerven]

 "You said they have other races than giants in their army. How do you know that they don't have those guarding the smaller tunnels?" Zhadristan asked when Malifice told about the route.

[Mikayla]

 Malifice smiles as she walks, signing to Zhadristan.  Did I say the smaller races would not be guarding the smaller tunnels?  When I said we could avoid their sentries, I meant the fire giant sentries.  I would have thougt that was obvious.  She pauses and glances at him.  "But then, you are but a male, and intuition and insight are not well known masculine virtues."  She turns and walks on, keeping watch on the others out of the corner of her eye.  

[Phaerven]

 Zhadristan briefly glares angrily at Malifice's back, but he does not argue any further.

[Zanan]

 Talice listens to Malifice's words, a smile parts her lips to disappear an instant later. "So I will continue to lead us to the vicinity of Maerimydra, mistress Kethryllia." Moving to the head of the column again, she adresses Malifice: "I think I know of that resting place two miles down the path, good choice indeed. As for 'of the Shadowlord'. It is the Lord of Shadows who answers my prayers, mistress Chûmavh, not the holy mother of all drow. We all carry our burden, don't we?!"
Nata'al remains behind, signalling that she will take up the last position.

[Mikayla]

 Malifice looks at Talice with narrowed eyes then to Keth.  "You consort with heretics?"  Her voice is little more than a hiss as her hands glide to hilts.