Dagger Of Kija
"That was a nightmare!" Pyran said succinctly, after he was released from the domination of the Dagger. "I'm glad it's over!"
The group sat sprawled about the Arena, Pteri on Gareth's lap wrapped tightly in his arms, but never releasing her grip on the Dagger. It was too dangerous, she had said.
"Over?" the elderly Shaman raised a white eyebrow. "We aren't even close to finishing this, sonny."
Pyran looked confused. Perched on one arm of Kija's throne, he glanced over at the other arm where Greyshadow sat. The two rogues flanked Gareth and Pteri, who sat in the middle.
"She means there is still the question of what to do with Kija and Tomas," she explained to the younger rogue. "And what to do with the Dagger
"Destroy it," Gareth stated firmly as he rested his head against Pteri's, eyes closed. He still wore his burnt clothes, but wasn't that badly hurt, as the Shaman had pulled most her punches, aiming her fire at the chains binding him.
"Also, there is the question of escape," Hanna mentioned calmly. "We have not found any of the Kindred talismans or Yellow scrolls that were taken from us. Even if Pteri is successful in reestablishing magic to normal around here, both Gareth and I will be walking out."
"No one gets left behind." Wildhair asserted, relaxing at the bottom of the throne's platform. "If one stays, we all walk."
Greyshadow cleared her throat. "Elder," she said quietly. "I guess I should have mentioned this earlier, but I am staying."