misledusine

[misledusine]

“...I see.”

Her tone is as succinct as the question that dared to suggest an alternative. For if Sombron lived in Nel’s world, surely she would not stand before the Mage Dragon today.

Zephia dips her head down slightly, enough to meet the bottom of the false maid’s dress. Internally reviews the words that pour out of the fell one so easily. Nel even speaks in the nicest tone she’s addressed the hound all day. It doesn’t matter if this lord was from an alternative world Zephia could never have dreamed of visiting.

Her lord is dead. It stings differently when someone else utters it. Actually stings, for one.

Another miniscule step forward is taken, though the dragon refuses to lift her head just yet. If one were to look closely, she mouths words before being able to lift her voice. What she mouths, even Zephia is not entirely certain.

“I am the strongest of my kind, but compared to his strength I only falter. But yes, unlike him I came out alive. And more importantly, myself,” bouncing off of Nel’s words, intentional on her end or not, allows the hound to return with horns and head high. “As for his footsteps, I could never see the same as his ultimate vision. I only followed bec…”

What has gotten into me?

She cuts herself off. No additional cough or sneeze to flourish the interruption. There is no reason to dump emotional baggage on a stranger that already hates her guts. Even more ridiculous when considering she’s telling this to one of the Fell Dragon’s spawn. But a stranger…is that really true?

Zephia settles a hand by her conspicuous horns, making sure her hair still flows naturally around them. “Go back a second to that part of no consequence. Because it is of consequence. This Mage Dragon you once knew…what was she like? Where is she now?”

And what makes her so different from me? …So much more important?

i hope this email kills us both

Any +1 w/ @misledusine

[misledusine]

how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ?

wasting at stars | still accepting!

MERCY DONT’S

Mercy, as anything else, is a tool. There are right ways to use it, and likewise wrong ways. So, so many wrong ways to use it.

Rely on mercy too much, and she is seen as too sparing. A saint. Someone that will forgive anyone’s mistakes at all costs. People will get too soft with her. Too trusting, and worst of all, too independent.

The solution? Simple. Tighten the leash, decrease the mercy.

But too little mercy, and there will be no one to see her as sparing, or saint, or motherly figure. It’s a tight line to balance upon. Doting and forgiveness versus punishment and justice. Only she should be deciding on when’s best to use either side. No one else.

It’s hard to realize that when, however. And as merciful she can try to be, anger is the most honest mercy of them all sometimes.

[misledusine]

LIBRA -≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ?

wasting at stars | still accepting!

MERCY DO’S

A kind apology to start. Make the child realize all that they’ve done wrong, and allow them a chance to apologize for it all with the proper intensity. Ensure they say it like they mean it.

If there’s something worse than a disobedient child, it is one that avoids taking responsibility above all else. Remind them of that. Make sure that they will never forget the risk of disobeying her again. Or else.

Once the groveling is over, assess their payment. Play judge, jury, and (if needed) executioner. Never make it anything that can be paid off, or a physical loan. That’s how careless humans work. Require them to prove their worth, in time or effort at least double to the amount they’ve wasted already. That should be fair.

Fair, yes. Above all else, be fair. Fair to the time that they wasted from Zephia in an unjust manner.

[misledusine]

Aquarius - what subject or fields is your muse passionate about learning?

wasting at stars | still accepting!

Oh this is a very good question. Particularly because I don’t think Zephia has ever been passionate about learning anything.

Not to imply that she’s never been taught anything. I’m sure the Mage Dragon settlement held a school of some sort for the young ones that Zephia managed to attend. Barely managing at that. After the basics, the rebellious dragon would rather take to specializing her own powers rather than learn that of the world. She has a long life ahead of her to test things out. Oh, and to learn. If that still matters.

The main reason I suspect this is a trait of Zelestia that I have chosen to share with Zephia: that being a distaste of reading. Try gifting the leading Wind books on poetry, Elyos’s history, philosophy…nope. Not for her. Now while this could simply be assumed to come from not wanting to go through the effort of reading…surely some topic should be enough to have Zelestia/Zephia willing to comb pages, right??

To satisfy the question, however, the easiest answer that comes to Zephia and Zephia in particular is magical studies. Mage Dragons harbor a wide variety of magical properties (it’s in the name!) and it would have been one of the only times she was willing to participate in her village’s lessons. It’s what makes her special. Even if the magic that humans perform is pitiful in comparison, certainly it can be something she can grab and morph into something superior. This is the field she excels in the most.

[misledusine]

≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ?

wasting at stars | still accepting!

JUSTICE DONT’S

Her lord’s end decision is absolute. Or come personal issues or subjects, her end decision is absolute. No matter what.

This is what Zephia swears upon in any everyday instance. Anyone choosing to go against that has only themselves to blame for the upcoming wrath. But above anyone else, this was the case for the Hounds above all else.

As their leader, mother, or whatever best suits the circumstance, disobeying her own orders is no better than betrayal. Heck, she is generous enough to stand in to take blame and front punishments when the lesser Hounds fail Sombron’s orders. She is so forgiving and giving to her children. Why would they ever bite back?

They meant nothing until she took them in. She could easily take them back to those times if they want them so badly.

[misledusine]

LIBRA - how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ?

wasting at stars | still accepting!

Let’s play a game with this question. A focus on both Justice and Mercy, that being one thing she believes in and doesn’t believe in for each. Why the weirder format? :)

JUSTICE DO’S

A majority of the time, justice is built on a standard of laws and systems, either from society or self-expectations. As a dragon who chooses her own path of life, especially once becoming an orphan, Zephia certainly does not find the need to obey the former. When it comes to her self-expectations then…

It’s not as if Zephia does not live by any sort of rules whatsoever. Just that the need to live by them rarely comes up when she’d rather prioritize her wants.

The most justice or fairness has come up in her life outside of being a Mage Dragon child has to be while serving Lord Sombron. When living under the overpowering dragon’s wings, it is his judgements and calls that she abides by above all else. From being an obedient servant during his first war to the more present day with a pack at his beck and call.

Still, Zephia is not a mindless servant. She has her own laws to abide to, it just turns out that many are to her own benefit rather than others. This is a bump that comes up when she is leading her own family as well.

[misledusine]

≻ how does your character show their reliability ?

wasting at stars | still accepting!

First off, there are few people that Zephia finds reason to show off how reliable she is. As the leader of her hound pack, no proof of her reliability should be needed beyond potential first impressions. Neither does she find meaning in displaying such when it comes to strangers, let alone current or past foes.

The only people - practically one person, honestly - she has ever felt the need to prove herself to are those stronger than her. Which segways decently into her preferred method of showing her reliability: dominance. Be it in raw power, verbal tongues, or whatever the situation may require.

One of the few details we know regarding Zephia’s background is her apparent greater magical capabilities in comparison to the other Mage Dragons. Alongside that is the detail that out of the great explosion that most likely changed her tribe’s village to a crater in an instant, she is the only one who survived. I have many other ideas regarding this incident right now, but the only point that matters is her survival. Her dominance over the rest of her weaker tribe. Dominance that led her to serve a stronger lord for the next few millennia.

With that, I find it natural that Zephia finds the abstract concept of strength nearly parallel to that of trust. She has already proven herself fine off with how long she’s lived and what she’s gone through. It should be up to those under her to prove their reliability at this point, not the other way around.

[misledusine]

A terrible oversight on the Mage Dragon’s front. She truly underestimates how cowardly little humans can be…yet overestimates their willingness to fold all the same. Zephia prepares to rectify her warning just as before with a half-hearted sigh. But the need to shoot more lightning does not pass, for an arrow whizzes right where the footsteps congregate.

For a moment, eager anticipation is worn on the dragon’s face to see where the arrow had landed. Some dissatisfaction shows in her lowered brows when seeing it fruitlessly aside on the ground, even if expected. She sneaks back some elation and “relief” through a smile aimed toward the sniper that nods at them to progress.

“So many willing to throw their lives away…and for what?” Zephia openly complains to Anna while still being in the failed guards’ earshot. “They’re not the ones burdened with choosing a partner for the rest of their short, pathetic lives.”

She leaves her ranting at that, making her only noise temporarily the sound of her heels clashing on the stone floor. Not in a hurried run, but a controlled yet quickened walk. The pace she always enjoys. It’s not like the upcoming door is a great length away.

It doesn’t require laying a hand on the door to realize the mass of people on the other side. Zephia does not even require wasting the effort of feeling their presence. A loud buzzing emanates from the entrance, most likely raised in volume by the faint sound of what occurred on the women’s end. They don’t have much time to act.

“I trust you to bark out our orders, no different from the past few times,” Zephia nods toward the merchant. “You do good in repeating them, sounding intimidating enough. Just wait for my announcement. As I believe the humans say… WE-”

Roll: 1d20 - 7 (fail…)

The dragon starts, only to interrupt herself with a yelp as her elbow only makes the door shuffle forward, not even opening. Her arm fortunately avoids any injury, but shame fills her expression in recognition of the blunder. Now the inside knows they’re about to be busy.

No need to keep them waiting then.

Roll: 1d20 - 17 (success!)

Zephia paces herself this time. Door first, then exclamation. Using the proper force of an open hand swings both of the white doors open. The first thing she notices is the sound of a man’s muffled yelp to her side, from where the door had opened. That at least explains (and gives her an excuse) for why the first attempt was a failure. But it doesn't matter now. Time for the signal.

“WE OBJECT!”

all's fair in _ and war

non-mission task: pearlescent (sword+1)

[misledusine]

Not much strength is put into the Mage Dragon’s grasping at her former lord’s spawn. For the little time she touches Nel’s cheek in combination with the hand that swats her away shortly after, Zephia feels the Fell Dragon’s skin. It is cold, an unnatural chill. Much different from the innate heat that her own kind emanates from simply breathing.

The contact is uncannily similar to how Lord Sombron would have felt to the touch. Not that Zephia ever had the opportunity to confirm her inferences in spite of her millennia of living.

It’s so, so different from the fell one’s anger and fury she is barely capable of masking behind cool demeanor. Spelling out her suspicions front and center only makes Nel’s signs more obvious. It’s…enlightening. A primal rage that the follower believed she would never see again once departing from her home.

This is why after the similarly cold bump from her shoulder, after the continuation of a denial-turned threat, after the dragon’s tone falls lower than her prior deadpan nature…Zephia’s smile only thins by a small margin. She is quick to double back and turn to the fell blood’s scent, not willing for her to leave her sight just yet.

That contrasting touch, that coldness. For just a moment, it made the unbearable heat of this worker vest bearable. She must reward the fatherless girl somehow.

“Another world. That explains some of the perplexity of it all. Even if I’m not fully familiar with the concept myself,” Zephia takes a single step that reverberates through the empty hall. It’s a surprise no one has come to bother them yet. Either this hallway sees barely any traffic, or the little one from earlier has warned her friends of an intimidating presence. Two now, ideally.

Zephia tilts her own head in observation, getting a fuller look at Nel now that more distance separates them. She tries picturing the fell one without the extremely out of place maidwear.

“You misunderstand my words,” the Mage Dragon continues, eyes widened as if to beg to come closer. “My lord is dead. Gone, if you’d prefer to be generous. With his parting, so does his empire. I hold no intention of upholding a cycle I bear no weight in, do not worry.”

She leans on her forward-facing boot. Not another step will be taken without the superior’s daughter’s approval.

“I am a wise Mage Dragon, hence my surpassing of…most of them, apparently. Following the empty orders of a dead man is not my lot in life. However…may I ask one thing, Nel?”

Lips frown, the playfulness of her boasting gone. “Lord Sombron, of your world. Does he live?”

i hope this email kills us both

Any +1 w/ @misledusine

[misledusine]

While others may beg to differ, Zephia has always considered her of the mindful sort. Considerate, even. So despite her quickly-dropped smile upon the turning of the priest’s back after setting up their little “buddy” system, the dragon believed in entering this all with an open mind.

It’s not like she held extreme hostility toward Seadall either. In terms of all of those who opposed her in the Divine Dragon’s band, the dancer was far from relevant. Then again, outside of her lord’s spawn and perhaps the emblems, no one ever truly stood out in those ranks. With that being the case, she should hold no extreme distaste for this temporary endeavor. See, even the little thing he did with his cards was endearing.

Was. Emphasis on was.

For any instance after he underwent any of those impromptu synopses that seemed to signal the end of their interactions, disaster struck. Her only meal for the day tasted terrible. A dizzying headache that sentenced her to a private bedrest. Her proud horns became a nest for a stray pack of blue birds. Big birds. What should have been a somewhat welcome sight turned into a tumultuous one, especially when they pecked at her hair.

And once that’s being threatened, the last straw has been picked.

While on any other day she would have done whatever business present while strolling through soothing rains, locking eyes with his mug changes plans. The dragon’s mouth remains an expressionless line, nodding once at the sopping mess. Deep inside, she is very thankful he doesn’t start with another damned fortune.

“Of course. I only expect nothing less,” Zephia remarks rather awkwardly. “Do your business, and I will keep to mine.”

What her business is exactly is unclear even to herself honestly. Instead of retreating to her desk and succumbing to whatever counselors are expected to do on a quiet day, Zephia walks right by Seadall. She continues on past until reaching the same bench where his belongings lie. One hand is placed on the sack, confirming its dampness. A hearty shove aside afterwards, and the dragon now has a front and center seat.

Once she slips onto the bench, Zephia turns right back to face the performer. In spite of the opposing body language, she simply shrugs in feigned innocence. “So? Go on then.”

𓍯𓂃𓏧⏾ impolite compɑnγ

☆ non-mission board ☆ seadall/zephia

[misledusine]

Her posture continues to morph in comfort of the extended conversation they are about to take - though comfort does not show in Nel’s position whatsoever. A straightened spine, meant to conspicuously compare to the stature of the Mage Dragon herself. She has needed to contend with Zephia’s height from another before. All the more evidence of her familiarity of her race…and proof of whom she dealt with.

The pronunciation of the dragon’s name comes as harsh. At least Zephia had put some care into coughing out Nel’s single syllable. The coldness of it all simply goes back to the confusing comparison of it all. 

“Another of her kind” should be…impossible. Out of the question. Her village had been torn to bits that fateful day. And after her wasted tears, scouring over Elusia only resulted in a lack of finding fellow kin. Less work for her, she believed. Until now.

All of this, combined with the cool steps that support a chilled glance, should tug at the twisted smile on Zephia’s lips. To an extent, she does feel the need to express distress as it stirs more and more within her warm heart.

And yet, the smile fails to waiver. This revelation that would have most definitely tore her temper to shreds years prior - it makes her grin in delight.

“Frighten? Don’t be so ridiculous,” her first counter comes at what potentially irritates her the most. “I was simply curious what you were capable of. Those eyes of yours are a good start. Much more intimidating than those defects.”

Partially for her own good as well as Nel’s, Zephia surrenders to her approach only partly. The dragon steps backwards to maintain a slightly larger distance of space, but enough to keep those mentioned lovely eyes centered right on her. Her pace swivels near the hallway’s walls. Not to allow any passing servants to carry on. She’d just rather not be interrupted from this extraordinarily rare chance.

“The dragon I serve is dead. Or rather, not of this world any longer. Though you can also say I have served the Divine Dragon that you are so eager to namedrop once in the past. But only once, if they are to count that. I wouldn’t.”

It’s all a waste to explain. So Zephia doesn’t, and simply moves on to greener pastures.

“Is it not healthy to move on after a lord’s passing? That was the reason for my travel. But never did I, of all people, anticipate catching a hint of a Fell Dragon so soon.”

Almost dreamlike, she reaches one hand out aimed to stroke Nel’s cheek. An easy mission when she remains much taller than her.

“A Fell Dragon that, no less, harbors the blood of my lord. Lord Sombron.”

i hope this email kills us both

Any +1 w/ @misledusine

[misledusine]

With her partner back in the lead, Zephia takes her cue to follow along close. After one more check that the knight that stepped out of line is indeed pacified (fainted on the ground, for all that she cares), she steps right over his body and makes for right behind the door. Hands remain by her side in the case that her sword requires brandishing again.

Though the need to equip the weapon is delayed. Mainly due to the fact that Anna ends up banging at the door with a glorified knock rather than forcing it open. The dragon would chide at the attempt if not for the girl’s own self-deprecation. No need to double down on the adversity, especially when the archer’s words are true. Zephia wouldn’t want this to stick to stealth in the first place.

Anna opens the door like a normal person would afterwards, with Zephia hovering a fair distance behind as to not disrupt her aiming hand. The way that her arrows sail across the lobby nearly make up for throwing them into this awkward scenario. Only nearly.

Roll: 1d20 - 10 (moderate success)

Mere words are not what the guards capable enough to be stationed inside deserve. As a reward, Zephia accompanies the initial warning fire with some thunder of her own. Specifically, a small surge spirals forth aimed to the side of one of the corner guards. They still hop aside in a brief, cute panic.

She waits a beat for the darkened crack on the wall to smolder before continuing. “And we have much more than arrows to stand behind. Actually, for your own sake, stick to standing by those sticks. Otherwise I’d be much too eager to show off what these spells can do beyond frying rock to rubble.”

A simple threat, but simplicity always seems to be the best against stressed minds. This girl’s archery makes for a surprisingly fair base to build her threats off of as well. Now to see if these men’s resolves are as weak as the ones outside.

all's fair in _ and war

non-mission task: pearlescent (sword+1)

[misledusine]

Her few words that are just enough to form a sentence is just as reassuring as her earlier vocal display. As in not reassuring in the slightest. But the winged girl sounds sure enough of herself. And if she pulls through, that’s less of an effort Zephia needs to put into reclaiming something that’s not even hers. So the dragon merely nods as the other sets forth.

Once the girl’s breath finally settles, she insists upon a strategy of mercy over might. Although the sight of the light woman suddenly trying to muscle through was unlikely in the first place, the predictable path forces an internal sigh from the Mage Dragon.

Though as much as she may complain (to herself), the bird lady is onto something. The robed man, initially looking ready to bolt away at an instant, turns his head back to face the negotiator. He even goes ahead and…plants a hand across his heart? Of course this is working, despite the speech that barely passes for a child’s speak. Humans, no matter their rottenness, seem to cower at even the saddest displays of kindness.

All of this makes Zephia go for a yawn, raising her hand to feebly cover the exhale. Hopefully this scuffle could end as soon as it began.

Never did she think she could regret something as novel as a hand raise.

Right when their second thief goes for loosening the wallet and coin, a third rogue silently introduces himself from the shadows behind. They push past all three of them compared to this man’s display of shoving past a single child. Zephia would find it impressive, if not for the obvious sight that the purse has disappeared from view once more, the conclusion coming naturally as she lowers her gaze…

…Hell no.

The bandit had not just pushed past her due to covering the exit. They only found it fair to snag a bag belonging to the touring dragon herself. A bag containing something surely more important than mere metals.

Zephia does not even hesitate to grab at the winged creatures shoulders, entirely ignoring how their touched friend feels about getting out-mugged. In her idle gawking, the perpetrator has already slipped out of sight. Better sight will do damn all without a direction to start in.

“Quick. You have some connection to that coin, yes?” she asks, nearing a downright forceful tone. “Sniff it out. I can chase after it myself if need be.”

what if you just steal another || zephia + leanne

pearlescent // faith +1

[misledusine]

Miss Maid that went out of her way to delay the Mage Dragon’s travels delays answering immediately, seemingly preferring to sulk than be a useful source of knowledge. It prods Zephia to nearly repeat her last demand again, until the suspicious woman hisses out her answer.

The negativity of it all should make the lonely dragon regret asking in the first place. Admittance of an error that implies apology sounds like anything but, as if to make Zephia feel bad for not matching a stranger’s desires. Ignoring all of the attempts of insult thrown right at her.

All of this insolence from mere misunderstanding. All of it should be enough to permit her to bite back in reprisal. Perhaps even sling a spell to protect her prestige.

But somehow it doesn’t. The smell is too nostalgic to ruin her virtuous mood.

“Nel… Nel.” Zephia mutters the title aloud, casting her own head aside to be nestled by a hand. It’s just as the worker annoyingly presumes, the name does not prompt anything from her memory. How could it, for how long the dragon has lived on and for what she had to endure through? 

Memorizing a supposedly pointless name up to this point is just as it sounds: pointless. No one, not even the raven girl in front of her, could understand. Even if she holds the same scent as…

A grunt of annoyance, and Zephia straightens her head to overlook Nel proper. “Before you dared to interrupt, I laid my name out clear. I am Zephia, the final Mage Dragon to grace Elyos’s borders. Perhaps that is a place you are familiar with.”

Then suddenly, Zephia’s lips morph from a mirrored emotionless line to a curious smile. Unsettling yet eager at the possibility that lies in front of her.

“You. Transform for me.”

i hope this email kills us both

Any +1 w/ @misledusine

[misledusine]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 . ( a collection of headcanon prompts based on each zodiac sign . adjust questions as desired . )

⊹ — ARIES . ≻ how does your muse handle competition ? ≻ what is your muse's biggest regret ? ≻ how does your muse handle losing control ? ≻ how does your muse express their passion ?

⊹ — TAURUS . ≻ what is your muse's most prized possession ? ≻ how does your character show their reliability ? ≻ what is your muse's favorite way to relax ? ≻ what simple things does your muse find joy in ?

⊹ — GEMINI . ≻ how does your muse communicate with others ? ≻ how does your muse handle the duality within themselves ? ≻ is your character predictable ? unpredictable ? ≻ how does your muse react to change ?

⊹ — CANCER . ≻ how does your muse react to emotional manipulation ? ≻ what is your muse's most treasured family tradition ? ≻ what is a cherished memory your muse holds close ? ≻ how does your muse express love & care ?

⊹ — LEO . ≻ does your muse lead others effectively ? ≻ what is your muse's most arrogant behavior ? ≻ is your character confident ? charismatic ? ≻ how does your muse handle being ignored ?

⊹ — VIRGO . ≻ what is your muse's most dedicated project ? ≻ how does your muse assist others in times of need ? ≻ what are your muse's standards for themselves ? ≻ what does your muse find beauty in ?

⊹ — LIBRA . ≻ how does your muse bring balance to their surroundings ? ≻ is your muse a people pleaser ? ≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ? ≻ how does your muse handle having to confront someone ?

⊹ — SCORPIO . ≻ what is your muse's most transformative experience ? ≻ is your muse the jealous type ? are they possessive ? ≻ does your muse engage in introspection often ? ≻ how does your muse deal with obsession ?

⊹ — SAGITTARIUS . ≻ is your muse a workaholic ? what's their view of workaholics ? ≻ what is your muse's most reckless decision ? ≻ how does your muse handle commitment ? ≻ does your muse experience wanderlust ? where would they go ?

⊹ — CAPRICORN . ≻ how does your muse demonstrate their ambition ? ≻ is your muse an optimist , realist, or pessimist ? ≻ does your muse value their legacy ? what have they done to ensure it ? ≻ what is your muse's average daily routine ?

⊹ — AQUARIUS . ≻ what is a cause or a movement your muse is deeply involved in ? ≻ how does your muse handle unpredictability ? ≻ does your muse challenge the status quo ? how ? ≻ what subject or field is your muse passionate about learning ?

⊹ — PISCES . ≻ is your muse sensitive, or do they have a thick skin ? ≻ does your muse have any escapist behaviors ? ≻ what does your muse dream about ? are they lucid , do they sleepwalk ? ≻ how does your muse handle harsh criticism ?

[misledusine]

…Well then. The little archer should have specified that she was one quick on the draw. Then again, it’s not like Zephia would have believed her claim without a bit of evidence. Although the boon of surprise made the operation easier to pull off in this instance, the Mage Dragon is willing to bite.

With Anna standing by with bow ready to fire, it is the perfect chance for her to approach the door. Thanks to the tension favoring them, Zephia is even able to leisurely stroll from their starting perch into the security’s sights. Immovable confidence exudes from each step.

Although, even with the threat of a sharpshooter, surely one of the guards is prone to act recklessly. Their jobs are potentially on the line with this high-profile wedding, after all.

Roll: 1d20 - 17 (success!)

“Make that two of us. And if you want to make this easier for all involved, kindly move from that door. We’re trying to make this as bloodless as possible. It would be a shame if you dears got in the way of our extensive altruism.”

Not only does her little speech go uninterrupted, but the negotiation goes seemingly flawlessly. Two of the unpinned guards closest to the entrance scooch away ever so slightly to allow the women’s approach. Thankfully, near-death has not done a toll to her ability of intimidation.

If only that was the case. Out of the corner of her eye, Zephia makes out one one the few free men making a run for them while brandishing a sword. He looks to be younger in human years, seen by how his armor is much too big for his stature. Youth always coincides with rashness.

At least he could be a good example.

Roll: 1d20 - 12 (hit!)

She sidesteps the predictable downwards slash, pivoting to right besides the boy. The disarming comes just as easily to her, swiping the blade out of his hand with a shortsword of her own. Before he could squirm further, Zephia gives him a hearty shove to the ground. She points one hand toward him and crackles energy between her fingertips. Her metaphorical pin in place, she lifts her head to face his comrades.

“My apologies if I wasn’t clear enough. We’ll be on our way now. And don’t even think about alerting anyone inside, else I’d be forced to do much, much worse.”

The lady does not even wait for an answer from the rest, either verbal or physical. She instead turns back to Anna with an eager smile. “A kind bunch. It’d be rude if we refused their generosity.”

all's fair in _ and war

non-mission task: pearlescent (sword+1)

[misledusine]

The relic. She is solely here for the relic, and nothing beyond that. Above all else, she most certainly isn’t here for the rancid, selfless servitude. Even if the stable’s horses make for somewhat fair company.

Not that Zephia knows precisely why the manor’s master owns so many of the same animal. The monastery at least holds the excuse of housing so many souls, a small portion likely relying on the creatures. Seeing how tasteless the rest of this community is, perhaps some are tamed for senseless racing. Humans seem to prefer asinine excursions like those.

Nevertheless, this is the best profession she’s found to waste her time as a servant. The dragon is only here by order of the church, preferring an undercover approach to reveal the location of that little bauble they’re stressing over. If it were up to her, she’d simply ransack any house of interest until the item has been claimed. But such an act would shun her from a second continent, so it would be wiser to play nice. Though that doesn’t mean she’ll resort to socializing up above for tibbits of direction.

The only reason the Mage Dragon squanders about on the mansion’s base level is a quick trip into the kitchen. The stables have run low on foodstuffs, and she’d rather keep the place peaceful and quiet, without the whining of hungry mouths. Tugging at her worker attire and silently cursing its heat, Zephia pauses midway through a hallway for a…curious sight.

Just ahead is a maid with jet black hair that attempts to single out a coworker with small talk. Only for the smaller one to panic nearly instantly and make her escape. A cool smirk paints onto Zephia’s lips. Either she isn’t only the one who’d clearly rather not be here, or the initiator spoke some truly startling stuff. The dragon is too far away to rudely overhear.

Unfortunately, such distance would not last for long. Initially, it seems like the raven girl is about to perform the same ritual of curt talk on her. But something causes the routine to break, followed by…a name.

A wrong name.

“Is that how you greet everyone, maid?” Zephia first demands, her smile already melting initially but most certainly a scowl by now. “Whoever ‘her’ is, I most certainly doubt the comparison is necessary. Get it correct next time. It’s Zephia-”

She at least manages to completely pronounce her name before harshly cutting herself off. Nostrils flare up, the dragon trying best to mask her sniffs with not much success.

“Your smell…why is it familiar?” her voice comes out almost in a shudder. Her next command fails to sound as demanding as she hopes. “Give me your name.”

i hope this email kills us both

Any +1 w/ @misledusine