PenBlade1326
The Faint Light In The Dark Tunnel Of Life
Chances' embodiment must have delivered the page of the book himself. Mellany's odd behavior combined with the information in the texts and the encounter with Vioux earlier? Peaking glances her way, Braxton did noticed her inspecting everything as if for the first time. He swore that in the right light or in the blink of an eye something green glinted within her eyes. Under the radar he suspected she was hiding something, or perhaps something else lingers without detection. Testing his theory would take too long. Cunning minds and candid faces make that hard to test, anyhow. Watching her discreetly, Braxton sided with caution around Mellany. What is happening, or what he believes is happening, could be the answer to what's going on with her. The oddities, the blow back from her magic, collapsing in battle. Did he figure it out? No. Not for certain. However Braxton is equipped with the knowledge on how to handle this just in case.
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Warehouses. It had to be the warehouse district of town. Dark and dreary, secluded from pedestrians. Nothing bad ever happens here! Rogana perched herself atop a crate in the warehouse, umbrella extended over her head to provide shade from one crack in the ceiling. Instead of just moving she chose to be focal. Glancing toward the entry way for the Knights to come in. Four of five seemed fine and normal. But the White one trembled like a pathetic child lost in the wilderness in jaguar territory. "Welcome, Rangers, to your greatest battle yet. Tell me... does the room feel any colder?" Rogana asked with a quaint laugh.
All while coming through the network Braxton senses something wicked would come. But these two Disciples were not it. "Quiet, 16th century harlot," Braxton threw at the Mystery Disciple's face. Not even a full minute seemed to go by before Mellany collapsed again in pain. He looked at her but instead on kneeling or going on the offensive like Vince, he took one step backward and gestured his hands in a casting method. The glow again, appearing for a fraction of a fraction of a second. You read that right. In his mind he attempted latching to Mellany's consciousness but it didn't work. He does not has that level of experience nor does he sense any leeway. Something is blocking him from even trying to get in. It's dark.
"Everybody keep your eyes peeled. This is a trap." Braxton might just be correct, given his hunch. Not to spoil it, but he doesn't need to be a mind-reader to know.
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Warehouses. It had to be the warehouse district of town. Dark and dreary, secluded from pedestrians. Nothing bad ever happens here! Rogana perched herself atop a crate in the warehouse, umbrella extended over her head to provide shade from one crack in the ceiling. Instead of just moving she chose to be focal. Glancing toward the entry way for the Knights to come in. Four of five seemed fine and normal. But the White one trembled like a pathetic child lost in the wilderness in jaguar territory. "Welcome, Rangers, to your greatest battle yet. Tell me... does the room feel any colder?" Rogana asked with a quaint laugh.
All while coming through the network Braxton senses something wicked would come. But these two Disciples were not it. "Quiet, 16th century harlot," Braxton threw at the Mystery Disciple's face. Not even a full minute seemed to go by before Mellany collapsed again in pain. He looked at her but instead on kneeling or going on the offensive like Vince, he took one step backward and gestured his hands in a casting method. The glow again, appearing for a fraction of a fraction of a second. You read that right. In his mind he attempted latching to Mellany's consciousness but it didn't work. He does not has that level of experience nor does he sense any leeway. Something is blocking him from even trying to get in. It's dark.
"Everybody keep your eyes peeled. This is a trap." Braxton might just be correct, given his hunch. Not to spoil it, but he doesn't need to be a mind-reader to know.