Abrajin's Library

The scout tilts its head at something unheard. A worried expression passes over it. The signal contains rather disturbing content, and it switches off its poetry subroutine. This news is too grave for rhyme. "No time to chat, I'm afraid. I just refused a self-destruct command. They can see through my eyes. You are in danger." Inspecting the millstone more closely will have to wait. "Can you fight? I can put you on the right track to start, but you will need to find a demon to help with the execution. I am too vulnerable."

Office of Horror

Tethrik is knocked over by the assault. The demon is confused and enraged, lashing out wildly without aiming at anything in reach. He should be easy to bring the rest of the way down.

Palace

Kothar ignores the insults about his parenting. That discussion is getting neither side anywhere. "It is in 'my court' as you say." The ball game he imagines is doubtlessly not the same as the one intended, but thankfully it is similar enough that the metaphor holds. "You are both diseased, but possibly not beyond my power. You are, as you claim to be, selfish, greedy, and prideful, and your mate is aggressive and ornery, but I am still willing to heal you, if you are willing to be healed. Otherwise, I will leave. I will find the other party which arrived here and warn them to stay away from you, so your sickness does not spread, and I will go into the city with the same warning. I shall not slake anyone's thirst for battle this day." The last comment is directed at Jace. Kothar interpreted his aggressive posturing as a challenge to a duel. He's never been good at interpreting the actions of warm-bloods.