Planeside

[KerfuffleMach2]

Shadow Trog's

Ivaz thinks n that for a moment, then nods.

I am actually, yeah. They got burgers here?

[Fenric]

[Shadow Trog's]

Keiko nods

Oh, yeah! Shadow-beef is every bit as good as the material stuff.

And she orders two double cheeseburgers with fries!

Pretty much everything you're used to in the "normal" world is here, and a bunch beside! After all: if you see a shadow, that means it's here. All of the buildings are here, and many of them have very similar people and functions. Almost all of the people have shadows, though it's not always easy to tell them - you can't assume a person's shadow is anything in particular like them unless they are aware. But you can always find them that way! It makes it great fun: so many people think they're protected from detection spells, when all you really have to do is find their shadow.

[Rebonack]

[The Gloom]

Detecting undead in the Gloom more or less results in getting hits at all ranges to the point of being virtually useless. There are undead spirits flitting around all over the place here, whether they happen to be attached to a body of some kind or not. Those pools of black bile are amorphous masses of undead. The sand itself has mindless spirits bound to it. Basically everything here is undead in some, often limited, capacity.

Which is mostly why it might not be immediately obvious when the black, starless sky above twitches. The blood-moon suddenly goes dark as though a thick cloud passed in front of it while the chilling wind and the distant moans of wandering undead creatures both fall silent as an oppressive air of dread falls over the blighted land.

That's all the warning the duo will get before the black sky above rains down upon them a flailing nest of hooked tendrils, mouths, claws, and other even more indescribable and indescribably lethal limbs. The swarm of appendages seeks to seize them, claw them, bite them, crush them, and rend them as a fell power tries, perhaps futilely, to rip the awareness from their minds.

Should they spare a glance up, they will behold little more than a vast, shapeless mass of malevolent gloom seeking their destruction.

A Nighterror, the most horrific of all the Nightshades.

Considering how awful Nightshades are in general, that's saying quite a bit.

[Earl of Purple]

The Gloom

The sheer number of undead spirits was not something the lich was expecting, though he was expecting lots of the energies responsible for them and plenty of corpse-bits, so perhaps he should have been. He's quickly grabbed and yanked upwards, though the fact most of his body is not actually necessary for his survival makes the flailing Nighterror's limbs less effective than perhaps they would be so on on a fully mortal creature, as does the fact his soul is currently residing off-plane. He is having difficulty, however, the tentacles, jaws and other appendages are making it difficult for him to pull a stoppered clay flask from inside his robes. It's not a large flask, and covered in solar symbols and magical glyphs.

"This one respectfully suggests that when it has retrieved this flask from its robes, the Wizard closes their eyes." The lich's voice is calm and collected, despite the situation. The flask contains natural sunlight, magically captured and stored.

[Aric Kale]

The Gloom - Azgul Fortress

Solana's fort stands tall, the Nightwalker has been repairing it as best she can with her solidshade, a large portion of the north wall being composed of the stuff.

Soon, my children...we will join with the frostlich and consume the world.

About ten wights in black armor patrol the walls, and thirty zombie scrubs loiter around the building.

[RabbitHoleLost]

[The Gloom - Azgul Fortress]

She'd forgotten to anchor herself before sleep.
Sleep, like a temporary death state all on it's own, sets into her half-dead body, slips in between her soul and whisks away until Rabbit finds herself somewhere else entirely.
A dream, but not a dream.

Her soul had wandered as her body slumbered and here she finds herself, cursing softly under breath. Too much time spent working on her own bastion had made her absent-minded and so the necromancer stares upwards balefully, taking in the structure and the undead that pace themselves among it.

"Tacky."

[Ashen Lilies]

[The Gloom]

Kr reacts faster than the lich does, managing to summon up blades of silver that cleave through the tendrils of darkness reaching for her, though one still manages to knock her onto her back before the blades slice through it.
"Understood." Says Kr, closing her eyes while also preparing her next spell to be cast against the terror.

[Aric Kale]

Azgul Fortress

The hole in the wall ripples as Solana walks through, her silver eyes and fingernails glowing fiercely.

Dreamer...what has sent you to my castle?
If you desire to conquer, I suggest you leave.
Should you attempt to steal my children, I will slaughter you.

All of this would be more intimidating if she were taller than 5'7...
You win some, you lose some.

She appears unarmed, but the Necromancer can readily summon Negative or Necrotic energy, even more solidshade if this other woman is too aggressive.

[Rebonack]

[The Gloom]

Is the jar of sunlight being employed yet?

Rebo isn't sure.

If it is, cleaving through the tendrils of gloom will prove to be horrible difficult. They liquify around the blade and simply become solid again once it has passed. Which is probably the most annoying form of damage reduction ever. If the sunlight IS being used, then the nightterror will be robbed of its ability to so quickly morph its form and the limbs will be hacked through.

Regardless of how that all goes, the creature doesn't seem very pleased about its prey fighting back.

It expresses this displeasure by spewing a tacky blob of darkness at Kr in a bid to glue her to the ground. Should the glob strike true, it'll begin trying to eat at her, too. Since obviously this situation isn't awful enough already. As for the lich, tendrils of vile spiritual power begin creeping across him, searching for the magical connection between his body and his soul. Should they find it, they'll be sent racing along to seek out his phylactery.

Which would be bad, obviously.

[RabbitHoleLost]

[The Gloom - Azgul Fortress]

"Oh goody." Rabbit murmurs dryly.
The only thing less desirable for company than other living creatures was other necromancers.
A sour personality seemed to be a packaged part of the dark art- it was impossible to play with death so often and maintain a positive outward persona.

Not without losing one's mind.

"Is that so?" Her voice soft, she takes a challenging step forward. At barely five feet tall, Rabbit has to look up at the other woman, but her green eyes remain hard.

[Aric Kale]

Azgul Fortress

Solana narrows one of her eyes. This one was fiesty...

Who are you to believe that you can resist my power?
She summons no weapons as of yet, but the solidshade wall disappears, and several of the undead inside look agitated.

You are in my realm, woman. Disrespecting me is not advised.

[Earl of Purple]

The Gloom- VIGILantes

No, the jar of sunlight has not been activated yet. He gave the warning in case he dropped and broke it; an hour's worth of sunlight all at once is a bit brighter than usual.

He does activate it now, though, pressing the runes adorning the jar in the right way to turn the flask translucent as it starts glowing like the sun. It'll do so for an hour, at which point it will need recharging, or until the device is deactivated.

The Nighterror's tendrils seeking the lich's phylactery will find it resides upon another plane. If, as I suspect, they are not purely physical manifestations and can plunge between the gaps in reality, they will find a metaphorical fortress of magical wards protecting the soul itself from, amongst other things, malign influences, detection, extraplanar tampering, positive and negative energy, entropy and growth. There is a ward for pretty much everything a thousand-year-old wizard can think of, and that includes attempts to trace its location by using the nature of a phylactery. This particular ward will direct the Nighterror to a dusty copper amulet, green with verdigris and set with a large purple amethyst, hidden in a secret compartment in a hidden vault. The vault is linked to an ancient tomb, though with the passage of millenia the rest of the tomb has been looted by adventurers, turned into the lair of a dragon, and finally collapsed. The Nighterror will be given the impression that this simple necklace is the lich's phylactery, though in truth it is a decoy. The real phylactery is hidden elsewhere.

[RabbitHoleLost]

[The Gloom - Azgul Fortress]
Pissing contests have never been quite in the interests of Rabbit, but she can't quite help herself at the moment. There's a lack of control, of will power, experienced when the body is separated from the soul and she stands her ground, staring back at Solana with no shortage of insolence.

(She forgets that she has nothing in this state, nothing to lose but no power with which to claim her stakes, either)

"And who are you to have such an ostentatious display?"
And for what purpose is the unspoken question.

[Hattish Thing]

Azgul Fortress:uper

A figure materializes here, a gust of chilling wind blowing by, and as it passes, a figure can be seen like a shadow. More incorporeal form than bulk, it's composed of a cold air more chilling than anything found in the deepest layers of the nine hells, many degrees below the comfort level of even the hardiest supernatural beings. But here this thing was, not quite real, not quite completely there. It was Snjókomu, a being born of the Great Cold, the sole servant of a god long lost, purged from the darkest pages of the darkest tomes. It was darkness, a strong presence mightier than that of even the strongest. However, it seemed weak in this state, in this form. Truly, the thing wasn't ever strong on this plane or the material one. It wasn't a being of this world, of this realm, and such suffered limitations it was not used to. In the Great Cold, the plane of eternal snow and shadow where it's god rested, it was a being of the highest power, answering only to it's nameless god, as old as the snows. However, it's purpose was here, in this world, in this time.

The creature's presence alone might silence those around the being. It's not that it tries to be frightening, but the sheer alien feel of it's incorporeal form causes great discomfort in most. At least in it's physical form of armor and thick plating of ice, it could be stared at. In this form, looking straight at it was nearly impossible. Reality just sort of bent and swept around it, it's dark color so deep that it seems to suck out all the color of the plane from around out, it's aura of domination so strong that even the strongest mortal would be unable to meet it's eyes. That is, if it had them. It senses all around it, and Rabbit, even though she's only half-mortal, will find her spirit being tugged upon, her aura, the very fiber of her being, pulled by the power of this thing. It's uncomfortable and ought to result in some fairly nasty feelings of depression and isolation later on.

Just being around the ominous aura of the thing's alternate and incorporeal form caused pain and suffering to all mortals who came near. The only reason it hasn't simply eaten away at Rabbit's being by now is because of it's distance, and her state of being as that of one of the undead. Or at least, nearly undead. It does speak though, it's voice high and sharp, many voices seeming to unify to form a single entity. It's cacophonous, and certainly painful to hear. Nor does it appear to be speaking a real language, at least one not heard by many ever before in this place. It's exact wording will be lost on Rabbit and the shadowy wight-master, but the meaning is a clear one, demanding silence and quiet, along with subservience.

"Þögn, verur. Ég verð að tala."

[Aric Kale]

Azgul Fortress - The Gloom

Solana makes as if to speak when a chilling cold rushes through the still air of The Gloom.
Fortunately for the icy guest, this Nightwalker recognizes the language as the same one spoken by Snowfall.

I will deal with you later...she says to Rabbit, turning back to the extraplanar creature.

What brings you here in this form? Speak your piece, snow lich. Her confidence derives from...well...being herself, and an innate immunity to cold, which allows her to resist the majority of Snowfall's evil power.

The ambling zombies inside the castle have halted...further inspection would reveal that their joints have frozen together...

[RabbitHoleLost]

[Azgul Fortress - The Gloom]

"Oh."
Uncomfortable.
That seems to be the least of the words to describe the sensation of losing self, of being pulled and tugged, and Rabbit, rebellious as ever, firmly sets her soul-self down, anchors herself with bitterness.
He's the not the first of his kind she's ever seen (or not seen, as the case may be in this particular issue), large and unbearably powerful, and it sets her into a mood.

Casting a look full of acerbic sourness at Solana (for, in the mind of the shorter woman, it was Solana's fault, somehow), Rabbit murmured from the side of her mouth.

"This is about a hundred percent more bull**** than I'l willing to put up with."

Other necromancers Rabbit thought with disdain.
Always wrapping themselves up with undead creatures best left alone, always getting themselves into trouble.
Irksome.

[Hattish Thing]

Azgul Fortress:

(Translations for Solana underneath the post.)

The elder being doesn't bother responding to Rabbit, for it doesn't know of the language she speaks. It doesn't even directly look her way, paying her as little attention as he would a passing insect. It must take a lot to get the attention of something like this. The form will point an arm forward, it's shadowy limb ending in odd tendrils of shadowstuff, resembling The Gloom, the odd substances found where great atrocities have occurred. Perhaps whatever plane this abomination was born of related towards that of The Gloomlands? As it points, a small circular panel appears in the air, clear but tinted, like black stained glass. The old thing speaks once more, it's voice painful to hear for too long.

*1: "Líta á gluggann. Sjá hvernig maðurinn keyrir. Borgin, höfuð hann til borgarinnar. Ég vissi ekki að sjá þetta."

The scrying shape activates, and the image of a man in rags and peasant clothing trudges forward through the snow, his heavy footsteps leading all the way back ruined town of Estle's Vale, far from the walls of the civilization. However, the man is close to The Nexus, and he seems to be just alive enough to let others know of what's occurring, and why the towns of Outside have been slowly wiped off the map.

Solana will know by the markings on the peasant's skin that he's been afflicted with The Chill, a side-effect of spending time within the unnatural storms Snowfall spreads with every successful attack. Now, a fair amount of Outside has become locked in by great snows, blizzards utterly destroying any sort of life. The towns used to be located by plains, forests, and rivers. Now, there's nothing but snow and ice, layers deep. Finally, the being begins to move, tendrils erupting from it's form to sort of drag it's way through the air. As it moves, it'll touch it's limb against the scrying shape, causing it to vanish.

*2: "Ze 'manlings' mun brátt koma að leita að þeirra dauður. Við skulum leggja gildru..."





*1: ((Look upon the window. See how the man runs. The city, he walks to the city. I did not foresee his escape.))

*2: ((The manlings will soon come searching for their dead. We shall lay a trap...))

[Ashen Lilies]

[The Gloom - Nightterror attack!]

The glob succeeds at binding Kr to the ground. Or more accurately, her coat, since that's the only part of her it actually hits. Her favorite coat, which she is quickly forced to abandon, leaving it on the ground as a snack for the glob of darkness as she gets back up into a crouch. It might take a while for the glob to eat through that, though. Quite aside from the regular array of wards Kr has erected around her person, said coat is the most heavily enchanted object she owns, having been layered with so many various protective enhancements of sufficient strength that she could probably take a tank shell straight to the chest while wearing it and survive. Granted, she wouldn't be getting up afterwards, but she would be alive, which is pretty darn impressive.

What's less impressive is the effect her spelled blades are having on the undead monstrosity. Even with the weakening effect of the sunlight, it's clear that they're a substandard form of assault against the nightterror. The sunlight does give Kr an idea for her next attack though. The blades dissolve as Kr recites the words for the next spell, golden glyphs literally rolling off her tongue and falling into a swirling pool caught in her cupped hands. Kr stands, throwing up her hands and drawing the pool of glowing glyphs into a single flaming master glyph, which hangs in the air between her hands for a moment. Kr throws her hands back together into a loud clap, and the sigil explodes into a forceful spray of thousands of tiny flaming droplets, which jet upwards at the nightterror.

Regardless of the damage it does to the spoopy tentacle blob, it certainly takes its toll on Kr, singing her hands and blackening the tips of her fingers as she casts the spell.

[Aric Kale]

Azgul Fortress

I will give you an honor guard, as well as access to my stores of solidshade weaponry and armor...

I will watch your progress, and if you are about to fall, I will give you more aid.
Her strength lies in the quality of her undead, not the quantity. She was confident that six of her men could outfit any sixty of Snowfall's, now that she has had time to train them...
Solana turns back to Rabbit.
Woman, you will follow us if you desire to see the reason behind my authority.

She leads the Necromancer and the Lich indoors and down a flight of stairs. With a shove, the door at the bottom flies open, revealing dull black helmets, shields, chest pieces, spears, even some swords. These items are stacked in rows upon rows from wall to wall with only a thin space to travel between.

I will send down enough to clad your army, and six of my own will accompany them.

Girl...these weapons have been created through my will alone.

[Rebonack]

[The Gloom - Nightterror Attack!]

The sunlight washes over the nightterror, causing the horrific creature to loose a bit of its maleficent luster as it fades to a dull black. This doesn't appear to harm the creature at all, but it should make the fight far more manageable. While under the glow of sunlight, the terror seems to be unable to alter its shape, having become rubbery rather than fluid. For a moment the tendrils recoil from the light, but just as quickly they redouble their efforts, attempting to seize the jar from the lich.

And should the terror steal the trinket?

It won't smash it.

That would be dumb.

Instead it'll spit the object away at high velocity, sending it tumbling through the air into the far distance.

While all this is going on the thing focuses a not at all inconsequential amount of its power to create discordant arcane static, seeking to disrupt and hamper the magical signal between the phylactery and body. Such a thing wouldn't destroy the lich by any means, but it may well leave the undead wizard dazed.

And then it gets blasted with a whole lotta fire. Rubbery black flesh gets burned into ash and the terror retorts with a rather simple counter-attack. A tendril the size of a tree-trunk comes hurtling down toward Kr.

[The Faerie]

Otherwise known as Tir na n'Og, the Otherworld, the Enchanted Forest, the Hedge, and a plethora of other colorful names. That's where Isaac has just bumbled into. He may find the surreal realm resonates strongly with his magic.

Or maybe not.

There are all sorts of different types of fae in the Nexus after all. Some of them may as well just be humans with weird ears!

Dreamlike is probably the best way to describe the realm. Colors and lines shift and warp subtly in a pleasingly hypnotic fashion. A warm feeling of snugness presides over everything, as though one were buried away under warm blankets. Impossibly colored butterflies flit through the air, chasing after motes of light that drift and twirl on unseen and unfelt winds. This place is... peaceful. But it holds a sinister edge as though this dream might become a nightmare at any moment.

Should he look back, Isaac will see the halls of his school behind him, still solidly real in the face of all this whimsy.

Before him looms the incomprehensible tangle of the Hedge.

Now what?

[Deathkeeper]

The Faerie

Well, Isaac has weird ears and eyes and one more than minor superpower, so he's already weirder than some of them.
Isaac moves forward to inspect the cave the fairies went into. He doesn't want to venture too far into this. He didn't bring a spool of twine!

[Rebonack]

[The Faerie]

Isaac peers in through the rocky mouth of the cave and spies a glistening limestone grotto beyond, full of delicate gypsum formations, crystal-clear pools, burbling springs, and the constant drip of water. The caverns are illuminated with soft blue light shining down from the otherwise dark roof of the cave, making it look for all the world like a tapestry of stars.

The two dunters are nowhere to be seen.

Goodness, those vile little creatures must be fast.

As the youth contemplates the scene before him, a very tiny and very mischievous pixie alights on his should. It's the pretty standard sort, tiny human looking creature that's child-like in its proportions with fluffy moth-like hair, insect antenna, and powdered insect wings. The fae is wearing a green tunic and cap that look like they were fashioned out of leaves and bits of bark.

"Hey there!" she says in a very small and rather high-pitch voice. "What's a big ol' human like you doing here? Don't you know the Faerie is dangerous to your sort?"

[Deathkeeper]

The Faerie

Isaac flinches with a start, stumbling a step or two back.
"Uh, yeah. I know that. That's why I was just taking a quick look and then getting out. I think I should start getting on that last part..." he says, wanting very much to just sprint through the portal, but really doesn't want to be rude to this pixie by brushing it off, because he's fairly sure being rude to fairies in their home turf is one of those things that you shouldn't do if you can help it. They have a tendency to be able to mess up your day.

[Rebonack]

[The Faerie]

Being rude to fae on their home turf is almost without question unwise.

"Oooh, curious are you? Like looking around? Wouldn't you rather stay and play for a while? Me and my friends know some really fun games," the pixie says, smiling a mischievous smile.

"Hey!" comes another voice, shrill and cold and just as tiny as the first. "Hey you up there! This is sprite turf!"

Should Isaac turn his gaze down, he'll spot a tiny creature sitting in a pool and looking for all the world like a teeny little mermaid all covered in minnow-like scales. She's also scowling pretty good.

The pixie sticks her tongue out at her. "Oh stuff it you sodden little spirit! This is pixie turf and don't you forget it!"

"Is not!"
"Is so!"
"Is not!"
"Is so!"

As the two creatures begin to argue MORE of them begin slipping out into sight, insect-like pixies on one side of a little stream cutting the bathroom in half and the little elemental sprites on the other. They all begin yelling and jeering and tossing rocks at one another from across the divide.

"Okay then, stupid head. I say we let the human settle the dispute," the pixie suggests.

"Fine! That beats trying to talk to a bug-brained brat like you!" the sprite scowls back.

[Deathkeeper]

The Faerie

Isaac blinks. Oh gosh there is a lot of them.
"I don't know anything about either of you, and I have no context at all for this. I am utterly unqualified to handle this matter in any way.
Which is to say, uh, NOPE!"
Isaac says, abruptly deciding halfway through that the fickle little creatures might not like his refusal to help them, and deciding that he's way, way out of his league, and that the best way to solve this is to sprint for the door, which is still thankfully close.

[Rebonack]

[The Faerie]

Seems Isaac is in luck today!

The sprites and pixies are so busy arguing and feuding with each other that they don't notice him bolting back out the door.

Fleeee!

He should be able to make it back to the school proper safely.

[Earl of Purple]

The Gloom- VIGILantes

Ah, so rather than looking for the phylactery, it's looking for the link between the two? Right, gotcha.

The lich waves his right hand over the jar, which is currently held in his left hand. A nearly-invisible (especially against the sunlight) purple glow envelopes the lich's fingers as they temporarily fuse with the jar, preventing the Nighterror from ripping it free as he raises it aloft. The Nighterror's thrumming upon the link between his body and soul does cause him to panic, closing his eyes and keeping the jar overhead to shine as much as it can as he uses his own power to stabilise the link. Not stunned, precisely, but certainly occupied.

[RabbitHoleLost]

[Azgul Fortress - The Gloom]

Rabbit jams her gloves hands into the pockets of her green overcoat, hunching her shoulders up grumpily as she turned out to look across the terrain of the Gloom, opposite the fortress.
None of this is any of her business , despite the fact she doesn't speak the language of the lich and couldn't understand half the conversation even if she was interested.

The short necromancer is lost in her thoughts of her desire to wake up and wonderif why she couldn't have dream-drifted somewhere more pleasant when Solana addresses her.

"Huh?"
Did Rabbit care enough to follow through on her half-hearted challenges to Solana's power?
Not particularly, but her options were limited, and following Solana into the giant structure was much preferable to standing around waiting for something else to happen while her body slumbered, still except for the slight movement of an occasional breath.

And so Rabbit follows the other necromancer and the there-but-not-there creature of cold, hands shoved in pockets, green eyes drifting over items as they pass by.
With the introduction of the armor, Rabbit shrugs.
(A calculated movement of disinterest, belied by the hungry motion of eyes. Technique and knowledge, applied practices- these were things that motives Rabbit)

"Impressive."
More than impressive.
Rabbit burns with envy.

[Hattish Thing]

Azgul Fortress

I will give you an honor guard, as well as access to my stores of solidshade weaponry and armor...

I will watch your progress, and if you are about to fall, I will give you more aid.
Her strength lies in the quality of her undead, not the quantity. She was confident that six of her men could outfit any sixty of Snowfall's, now that she has had time to train them...
Solana turns back to Rabbit.
Woman, you will follow us if you desire to see the reason behind my authority.

She leads the Necromancer and the Lich indoors and down a flight of stairs. With a shove, the door at the bottom flies open, revealing dull black helmets, shields, chest pieces, spears, even some swords. These items are stacked in rows upon rows from wall to wall with only a thin space to travel between.

I will send down enough to clad your army, and six of my own will accompany them.

Girl...these weapons have been created through my will alone.

With a groan and a creak as the thing shifts slightly in it's place, it sort of dissolves into a blank shape of nothingness, tendrils of wispy shadowstuff oozing away and off of it as the shapeless form moves quickly down the flight of stairs. It appears this form was quite a bit faster than that of it's previous, and certainly quicker than that of it's heavily armored counterpart. As it reaches the sets of armor, the thing will pass through some of them, slowly looking over the dull armor. It seems pleased, for it doesn't say anything in complaint, but it's awfully difficult to tell what exactly it was feeling.

Part of not having a face, I suppose.

Finally, it speaks again. "Nei ég mun ekki birtast , þeir verða ekki að ég er hér í þessu landi , ekki enn .

Ég mun senda warlocks mína , og við munum sjá hvað styrkur þessir menn eiga .

Þá skulum brjóta þá."

(Translation:

No. I will not appear, they must not know I am here in this land, not yet.

I will send my warlocks, and we shall see what strength these men possess.

Then we shall break them.)

----

[Azgul Fortress - The Gloom]

Rabbit jams her gloves hands into the pockets of her green overcoat, hunching her shoulders up grumpily as she turned out to look across the terrain of the Gloom, opposite the fortress.
None of this is any of her business , despite the fact she doesn't speak the language of the lich and couldn't understand half the conversation even if she was interested.

The short necromancer is lost in her thoughts of her desire to wake up and wonderif why she couldn't have dream-drifted somewhere more pleasant when Solana addresses her.

"Huh?"
Did Rabbit care enough to follow through on her half-hearted challenges to Solana's power?
Not particularly, but her options were limitted, and following Solana into the giant structure was much preferable to standing around waiting for something else to happen while her body slumbered, still except for the slight movement of an occasional breath.

And so Rabbit follows the other necromancer and the there-but-not-there creature of cold, hands shoved in pockets, green eyes drifting over items as they pass by.
With the introduction of the armor, Rabbit shrugs.
(A calculated movement of disinterest, belied by the hungry motion of eyes. Technique and knowledge, applied practices- these were things that motives Rabbit)

"Impressive."
More than impressive.
Rabbit burns with envy.

The thing seems to suddenly stare and face at her once more.

[Aric Kale]

Azgul Fortress

Do you want the honor guard, regardless? I guarantee my children fight better than your frostbitten corpses...she smirks.
Clearly, she doesn't hold the Lich in any high esteem...it would serve its purpose. That is all.

Woman...tell me your name, and I will make you a proposition.