Maedar was a term lost to the ages... In Tycondrius displaying his ability, Ariadne knew he was a male of the dusa bloodline.
The Priestess cast one of her divine healing spells to heal her husband. It was sowhat foolish of her, as her mana reserves were even lower than his. She quickly descended into an agonized coughing fit after doing so...
Tycon steadied himself, crossing his arms and trying to convince himself that the pounding in his head would eventually go away... "Priestess Ariadne... does my bloodline change your opinion of ?"
Ariadne did not look up as she embraced her sleeping husband, pressing her face to his chest... "I... never... would have expected... the reasonin' behind the color of your eyes."
Tycon surmised that the answer was yes. The Priestess' opinion of him had changed drastically.
"Ya know..." Ariadne lifted her head but she still did not et his gaze... "The elves will never work with you... not unless the dragons dare to return."
"I am aware..." Tycon twisted his lips... "Then, for the favor you have promised... you will work with until at least the Brazen Guard collective leaves this Dungeon."
"I gave you my word... I'll trust you this last ti, snake."
...
"Sir Tycon. Got a logistics concern," Sergeant Salt waved Tycon over.
"If this is concerning the absence of Mister Lawrence..." Tycon groaned, approaching with his helt beneath an arm, "the gentleman is tasked with carrying and protecting the weakened Bannok-- at least until he has recovered sowhat."
Salt swept back his wet hair, still drenched from sweat, though the battle had ended a half-bell prior, "It's not that, Sir... I uh... was just worried about our ammunition and the power cores. Had one of 'em blow in the last fight-- I think it ran outta juice."
"...Juice, Sergeant?"
"Eh... magic, Sir. Whatever's swirlin' around in these things that make the bad guys fall down?"
Tycon took a deep breath... "Reasonable."
He ntally opened a System nu, detailing the contents of his spatial ring. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a crate of bullets and a half-dozen carefully wrapped Khyber crystals.
Salt crossed his arms, frowning... "I don't suppose you're holdin' out on us, Boss? This is barely enough for one more engagent."
"I am not," Tycon shook his head. "These were my personal stores. Tell your team to conserve ammunition..."
"We were good up until the battle on the bridge," Salt let out a heavy sigh... "Was pretty tough to conserve ammo then."
Tycon pat the man on his shoulder plate, "No need to make excuses to , Brother-Sergeant. I do not need to berate you. You and your team are keenly aware of the consequences of your wastefulness."
Salt brooded over his words for a mont... before suddenly perking up, "One more thing, Sir... what... should we do about the prisoner?"
"...The prisoner?" Tycon furrowed his brows, "What prisoner? ...Did you... capture one of the gorgons?"
A gorgon would be nothing but trouble. They don't listen to orders and loved to complain... and loudly. No, Tycon would not have that. He'd order them killed imdiately.
"The uh... girl, Sir."
Tycon narrowed his gaze to judgntal squints, "You captured a female gorgon? We are an equal opportunity guild, Sergeant. I would have her executed just as--"
"--Sir."
Tycon hooked Salt's neck with his arm and powered a knee into his side, "--don't interrupt , young man. Now... what was I saying? Ah, yes, equal opportunity."
...
Tycon t with Athena in Guild Letalis' dim corner of the Dungeon.
"Two questions," he started. "The first is-- I'm honestly curious and not trying to be rude... but why are *you* still here?"
Athena was playing cards with Tycon's shadow, the limbless, black-armored, golden-eyed blur of magic. It gestured Tycon towards it. Revealing its hand of cards to him, Tycon saw that the value, if he were to play it, would be quite high.
...He surmised that his shadow was better at children's card gas than he was.
"What's the second, Sir Tycon?" Athena inquired, "Ooh, ooh. If I guess it correctly, can I have a hug?"
"No. Where is the prisoner?"
"Aww... (I was wrong, anyroad...)" Athena sighed. She reached to her pack beside her and revealed... her wooden doll.
Tycon frowned... "Boxtholomaeus is a mber of Guild Letalis... not... not a prisoner."
He felt sweat forming atop his head. Had the young mimic realized that his contract was highly oppressive and unfair? There was a one week period of ti that he could renege on the agreent.
"Boxxyyy~" Athena sang. "Show him!"
The wooden doll opened its mouth... and audibly retched, 'vomiting' forth an impossibly larger humanoid figure onto the ground. It was the shrouded and hooded mage that he had sent his shadow to deal with... and was currently bound in a dark rope.
Spatial magic was strange.
"You're... a monster..." The hooded female coughed. "There wasn't... any... air in there."
"I doubt that is true, as you are still alive, young lady," Tycon chided... "So the young Boxtholomaeus can fit an entire humanoid inside of his... inventory?"
"Mister Lawrence doesn't fit," Athena shrugged. "But I can, just fine."
Tycon decided not to ask why they thought it was a good idea to test those specifics.
"So and Mister Ultra-Death-Shadow..." Athena continued, "--we thought it'd be best to have Boxy guard the prisoner."
"It was a very strange experience, keeping her inside as she wiggled about," Boxtholomaeus admitted.
"I'd imagine it wouldn't be," Tycon nodded.
"I would rather not do so again, if at all possible."
« System, inquiry: Target status and... information. »
⟬ System response: The target is suffering mana fatigue and is suffering a light case of indigestion. Iron-Rank Shadow Snake Adept. ⟭
"R-release at once," The young human woman looked up with a glare. She had short, scraggly raven hair and her pupils were red... a trait unlike that of her Shadow Snake kin. Strange.
"Don't you know who I am?!" She shrieked.
Hm. It seed the young lady was a transford snakeblood, similar to himself.
Tycon raised an eyebrow, "No, I do not."
"Hear my na and fear it!" The bound teenage girl wiggled, "My na is Suka! Consort of the IVORY PRINCE!!"
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