Jivven Noda'Razzr
Shields... How Jivven hated the blasted metal bulwarks. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue for the assassin, seeing as most of the shield-bearers he dispatched in the past never even knew he was there and probably didn't realize it until they were sucking air through a new slit in their throats. But here, in a one-on-one engagement with a shield maiden, the odds were stacked against the Dark Elf. Despite talking a big talk and exuding bloody confidence, the shadowdancing git was at a disadvantage. Hell, most of his foes during the free-for-all didn't even see the blade that took their lives, except for maybe the orc and elf.
Jivven hated it. Hated how he was taken out of his shadows, hated how he was placed in a stand-up fight, and hated how he was treated as another stock warrior. Dammit, he was a shadowdancer, a proud member of a storied and feared occupation. It didn't matter if he was an official member or not, he carried the name with pride, and would kill anyone and anything that spoke otherwise. Hell, if he wasn't so bloody sure that the Dragons would win this bloody war, he wouldn't even have tried to become an official member.
Now, where was he? Oh yes, the shield-bearing harpy. She was moving on the ground, rather quickly for a harpy. He expected another blind shield rush, but was surprised when the harpy's arm reared back to throw the shield at him. He had to give the pigeon credit, she had courage. Or stupidity. Stupid courage maybe? Probably. As the improvised discus darted straight towards him looking to snap him in half, Jivven did what any respectable assassin would do. Simply step out of the way. Well, pivot on his left foot. The wind from the shield billowed what little robes he had left and impacted on something behind him. If he had to guess, he'd figure it drilled some poor unsuspecting cur. He couldn't tell, because he wasn't going to take eyes off of the harpy. It was like a Dark Elf tenet or something. "Thou shalt not take eyes from thinne opponent, else receive punishment in thy belly with a dagger." ... Or something.
Then she pressed her advantage, bringing down her axe. A clumsy weapon for barbarians as Jivven thought it, and a strange one to find in the hands of a pigeon. Jivven had his bandaged hand up, ready to guide the axe down and away from Jivven. He had planned to lean out of the way from the intial strike and guide the axe away from his person and finish the fight by sliding his short sword over the axe and into the throat of the harpy. Planned. Plans never survive contact with the enemy. The axe didn't reach him so that he couldn't guide the axe, and couldn't jam the sword into her throat. Instead, his hand slapped at air as a sick snap came from the harpy's wings. That must've hurt like hell. Jivven hoped she'd kill herself.
No such luck, as the attack came in a different form. Wings. Rather the force from the wings. Thanks to Jivven's small stature and almost-nothing weight, the force picked Jivven off of his feet and sent him flying through the air. He came to a rough, yet fleshy stop. He felt himself in the arms of another and immediately had his short-sword pointed at the throat of... an Orc? The orange dust on his cloak stayed his hand, and he remembered what Oraun had said about banding together... Fine. Instead of running it through his neck, he spoke, "My hero," in a dead pan tone. "Thanks," He added, albeit much quieter. However, even though his neck wasn't broken, there was still the issue of the harpy, probably on her way to cut him down right now. Quickly, he grabbed the orc's neck and brought his ear down to him and whispered something.
Suddenly, Jivven felt himself rise further off of the ground and begin to hurtle through the air. At least he listened to him to throw him instead of just snapping his neck. However, Jivven couldn't help but shake the feeling that this is much more satisfying for him... Oh well, Jivven bet this would catch that bloody pigeon off-guard. Jivven pulled back his sword and planned on carving the turkey up on contact.
Liliana Bloodleaf
Finally, her friend's silence was broken with an admission of his well-being. He was fine. On the outside anyway. They were all perfectly fine on the outside. The same could not be said for what lay underneath the surface. Lily still couldn't quite read Turha since... Well, since Herrick. She'd gotten better at it. She knew what topics not to press. Yet she didn't know what went on in his mind most of the time. Then he smiled at her. It was a weak one, but a smile nonetheless. Likewise, she reciprocated the gesture with a small smile of her own. Smiling was a lot harder than it should be nowadays. Bah, sometimes all of the angst got on her nerves, yet she would never express it. She understood she too was hard to get along with now.
"Research huh?" Lily asked. Her curiosity was peaked now. Her eyes drifted to what he worked on and listened to him speak. She knew he was working on something or another that increased the efficiency of the golems. To be honest, most of these things Turha worked on went well above the head of Lily. She was raised in the forest in a hunter's clan. They didn't have readily availability of golems or technology of the like. The best they got were intricate bows and the odd spellcaster every now and then. Even now, spending years away from her clan, she didn't fully understand the concepts. All she knew was that golems were hell on the battlefield and her own personal golem had a flaming paint job and could fly. But what else could a simple forest girl want?
"Red huh?" she said glancing at the Child Turha indicated and back to the red jewel. Again, she didn't fully understand these... Things, only the general idea of what they did. Even then it was more common sense than intricate knowledge. Color coded for her convenience it seemed. "Oh? I get the red one? That'll make riding Marky fun," She said with an entertained smile. Marky, a pet name for her golem, the Liliana Mk. II. A gift from both Turha and Gurgen. Her smile lasted the whole time Turha took to drag the Child into the hall.
Lily then stepped away from the wall and took the seat next to Turha, "Violet? What do they-" with a snap and a pop, a golem that was not there before appeared in corner of the cell. Lily twitched and squeaked in surprise. "Well, I bet... That'll be a nasty surprise for someone," She added, trying to compose herself. Lily let Turha have his moment as she watched the golem, waiting for it to blink back out of existence.
"And how are you?"
Funny how such a simple question could be so difficult to answer truthfully. "Well enough I suppose. Well, great considering that almost everyone wants the Paragon dead," She said with a tone of humor. "Adel, Zyn, and Landion are coming into their own. Great archers, all of them. I'm proud of them, but don't tell them that," She said, pointing a finger at Turha, "They might get cocky, and I'd never hear the end of it." She sat there in silence for a minute staring at the plain wall in front of her. Even when not talking, she felt comfortable around Turha. Despite his distanced nature and her bluntness, she wished they could spend more time together. A memory came back to her, a night in the bar with both Turha and Gurgen. She remembered waking up and tripping over the brothers outside her own tent, the morning after they had escorted her to it. How she missed those days. A smile curled around her lips when she remembered their answers when she asked what they were doing. "Getting acquainted with the ground." one had said. "She's a rather cold madam," the other.
Then she began to laugh. Not chuckle, nor giggle, but laugh. It had been a while since she last laughed. "The violet one makes them invisible?" She asked once she had control of herself. "Imagine if I gave Marky one of those and flew into battle on him!" She began to laugh again. The thought was too funny to not laugh at. Over the sound of her laughter, Sid's loud voice could be heard. "Pack up and be ready to leave. We march for Talos City in six hours!" Yet it seemed so far away for Lily.