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  1. #11
    Sweet Cinnamoth

    EXP: 37,766, Level: 8
    Level completed: 31%, EXP required for next Level: 6,234
    Level completed: 31%,
    EXP required for next Level: 6,234


    FennWenn's Avatar

    GP
    2,300

    Name
    Fennik Glenwey
    Age
    Looks eight. He's definitely older.
    Race
    Frost Fae
    Gender
    More or less male.
    Location
    Corone

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    Fenn wondered if trying to warn Nevin about Amari was how other people felt about trying to warn him about threatening things.

    She had outright admitted that she was a danger, and the alchemist still didn’t seem to realize it might be best to maybe stay the hell back from her. Well then. If his friend was going to be more stupid than Fenn himself was at times, it was his duty to stay here and make sure Nevin got out of this with minimal damage. Also, he was a little tired for getting out of this cushy chair, let alone walking out of the shop. A tired snuffle emanated from the cloak. Yeah. He’d only try to kill her (as she’d mockingly suggested) were she to try anything funny. Fenn... wasn't sure he was a killer. Not yet. Banri had her plans, but, that was a story for a later day to tell.

    That comment about iron was cutting though. Randomly thrown low blows were characteristic enough of her that he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to take it as a threat or not. His wrists twinged with the faint memory of heat.

    The other two were still talking to each other. Something something “third-rate alchemist”, “blood magic”, something something “beneficial aid”. Blood magic? Blood magic. Nevin had it or something. Fenn’s ears flicked up underneath his cloak. This was new to him. So he thought. His mind was not terribly clear right now. Note to self; grill the alchemist about the magic of blood and the funny lines laticing him lat- TITANIA’S TITS, WHAT WAS THAT?

    OH SHIT THERE WAS BLOOD AND NEV SAID WORDS, THEN THERE WERE TREE-THINGS GROWING OUT OF THE FLOOR AND THEN THOSE WERE GONE AND- Fenn fell out of the chair, so startled was he. The hiss of clear pain that came with smacking his head on the varnished wood of the counter proved to him that this was not a dream and this was real. Thwack thwack thwack went his heart in his chest.

    He peeled himself off the floor and woozily stood back up, barely noticing that his cloak was askew. Alright. His tiny fist thumped against the countertop yet again, demanding attention. This was too weird. He wanted answers.

    NO GAMES BITCHTITS, Fenn scrawled, pointing sternly to Amari with his free hand. WHAT THAT? AR-TWO-EL PLUS BLOODSTUFF? WHAT NEED FROM NEVIN WITH IT? NO MESS WITH HIM, GIVE STRAIGHT WORDS, SAY WHY YOU HERE. Mother of Mab, she was shit at just telling people what she wanted. She always had to be blahblahblah-ing up vaguely-ominous sounding sentences about how spooky she could be. Fuck it, he knew that already, even if Nevin was too dense to take a hint. It was starting to try his patience this time; his nerves were frayed enough as it was by sleep-deprivation and bad-memory-slinging. He’d had enough of it for one night.

    A bedraggled yet hopeful aside was also written at Nevin.

    ...IF CAN FIX HER WITH WEIRD NEW MAGIC, WOULD BE NICE.
    Last edited by FennWenn; 05-18-2018 at 12:13 PM.

  2. #12
    Shattered heart and Soul

    EXP: 76,735, Level: 11
    Level completed: 98%, EXP required for next Level: 265
    Level completed: 98%,
    EXP required for next Level: 265


    Amari's Avatar

    GP
    4,933

    Name
    Amari L'Olfsden
    Age
    30
    Race
    Ar'Tuel
    Location
    Corone

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    Scarlet wasn't exactly sure what to expect. She knew that her blood could go one of two ways if he had used it. She assumed it'd just rot away everything it came into contact with. That was what she was used to. That was normal for her. What wasn't normal... what was long forgotten to the red haired assassin... was the feeling that she was able to bring forth life. Heal, and let things flourish around her.

    This man. this two-bit giant of a man managed to pull such things out of her... no....out of her blood

    "Nice try." Scarlet mused. "Tis a shame you can't quite harness that without it twisting. It'd be useful. Sure, killing someone with just a touch is great and all, but sometimes ya need to get a good ol' dose of healin up in someone to make them talk."

    Scarlet shifted her gaze over to Fenn and wandered over to the desk to read what he was writing. She ignored any sort of negative reaction that he gave her. It was all justified after all and it didn't bother the redheaded woman one bit. "Eh? Yes. I'm getting to that. I needed to know exactly what he was capable of before asking him what I wanted from him."

    Scarletreached out and tore the hood of Fenns cloak down so she could stare into his pupil-less green orbs. "Tis like asking a beginner cook to make an extravagant meal, when you don't know if he's capable. You don't want to waste your time, nor his. So you want to test his food first." Of course her analogy had to be about food. Scarlet always felt hungry. A hand slid down to the small bump on her stomach and she sighed. Damn thing...

    Scarlets eyes narrowed at Fenns newly scrawled words. "I don't need fixing. I'm a means to an end. Quite literally. Nothing more." Scarlet turned her back on Fenn, leaning her backside against the counter.

    "Right. Little fae is right. I need you to create several potions using my blood. If you can throw in some that heal great - if it warps. It'd be just as useful. See - I practically run a less-than-reputable bunch of brutes and I need ways of reigning them in. All's fair in pillaging and war - but I can't have them running amok when I'm trying to forge out an empire here. When that's done then they can fuck around all they want. I'm one person. But if those vials....have the same capabilities as myself - then one person turns to many."

  3. #13
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    "No one, and I promise you no one, is nothing more than a means to an end." Nevin's voice was very soft, but then he shook his head sharply. "It is not my place to interfere in your life. So, then. You wish potions." A strained voice, as Nevin was adjusting to the pounding in his head. He gestured to the broken, rotted branches beneath her.

    "I can supply those. I can tap into that healing within you as well - but that, that was crying out to be expressed, to remind. Death is not all there is in this world, life is very much a part. Especially..." There had been a faint note, an undercurrent to the blood. Another magic, it's power mingling with Scarlet's, but currently drowned out - and slowly sipping of it. He bit his lip and was able to keep the flicker of his eyes downwards out of Fenn's sight.

    "Right. And yes. That power to decay does run powerfully in your blood, demanding satiation. Tapping into it would be almost painfully easy." Nevin took a deep breath, and rested his hand on Fenn's head. As much as he wanted, desperately, to do more - helping someone who did not want to be helped was folly.

    "Fenn." Just the boy's name, and for a moment he was going to shake his head. But the pleading in the boy's eyes - Nevin sighed and turned his gaze back to Scarlet.

    "For every vial you want from me, I ask another. That will be my payment. You will decide what your vial does, and I, the other's purpose. I need at least five ounces to create sustainable blood potion." An initial offer - but would she take it?
    Last edited by Nevin; 12-05-2017 at 12:17 PM.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  4. #14
    Sweet Cinnamoth

    EXP: 37,766, Level: 8
    Level completed: 31%, EXP required for next Level: 6,234
    Level completed: 31%,
    EXP required for next Level: 6,234


    FennWenn's Avatar

    GP
    2,300

    Name
    Fennik Glenwey
    Age
    Looks eight. He's definitely older.
    Race
    Frost Fae
    Gender
    More or less male.
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Since Amari intruded on his bubble of space and yanked up the comforting shade of his hood, the little fae had sat stock-still and bristling like a scorpion with its tail raised. His drooping eyes stung from the slight increase in light seeping into them. Frost crept up his sleeves in disjointed lattices, the air around him dropping a few wary degrees. The proximity of her touch bothered him. He didn’t know what was worse; the quiet festering wrongness of her magic-brightness, or her taking his fury with nothing stronger than a cool stare. Was this how it was always going to be now?

    This was becoming frustrating enough to make him want to throw a blizzardy tantrum right in the middle of this store. He could imagine it keenly in his mind’s eye… just letting his emotions and magic reign freely through the room. Cold winds snuffling the candles, snow filling the dim and narrow space, colorful serums flying off the shelves and splattering — shattering — to the ground with total impunity, freezing into a shimmery slush.

    But he didn’t.

    A nagging feeling sloshed within him, a pressure in his chest that perhaps someday would come to a cold boil and spill out over the top.

    He didn’t dare.

    It was mostly Nevin’s stern presence that kept him reigned in.

    Fenn glanced up at the alchemist with moderate concern, but didn’t press the issue of ‘tis-a-bad-idea-to-interact-with-Amari-even-for-monetary-gain, nor that of fixing the cracking porcelain doll of an assassin before them. Maybe it wasn’t possible. Fenn himself certainly had never been able to help her. Unhappily, he swirled his hand along the desk is aimless frosty patterns, not quite able to meet either of their gazes again as they discussed the worth of the blood-magic stuff she had come for. The little thiefling had many questions for Nevin, and none that he felt confident enough in to ask in front of Amari. Mostly, it was about the blood-stuff. No wonder he gave off a cozy, warm magic-brightness whenever he neared! The boy sighed in quiet triumph at now knowing just what funny secret the alchemist had been hiding all this time. Was his hair red because it was dyed with blood? What could he do with frost fae blood? With Fenn’s blood. Why hide the magic? Was it dangerous, or embarrassing, or stigmatized where Nev came from? What blood-related spells he could perform? This would all have to be investigated… later. When there wasn’t a literal assassin in the room.

    An odd thought drifted through the boy’s mind like a dark cloud. As tongue-tied as he was, the boy did manage one question out among his absent doodles. But it was not directed at Nevin.

    IF AMARI VIEW SELF AS MEANS TO END, he wrote, THEN WHAT END?

    He was already fairly certain of the answer, yet… There were already weird looks being passed around. They didn’t do anything to quench the frustrated flurries that were starting to appear in the air around, nor the thin creak of ice building up on Fenn’s stolen chair. Frayed nerves gave his magic a looser reign to run wild with. His hand went to fidget with the reassuringly chilly pendant under his cloak. A certain calm someone needed to be on the receiving end of his urge to be very loud, very suddenly, for a very long period of time. Hopefully, he’d see Banrion in his next dream.

  5. #15
    Shattered heart and Soul

    EXP: 76,735, Level: 11
    Level completed: 98%, EXP required for next Level: 265
    Level completed: 98%,
    EXP required for next Level: 265


    Amari's Avatar

    GP
    4,933

    Name
    Amari L'Olfsden
    Age
    30
    Race
    Ar'Tuel
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Scarlet's gloved hand traced over the frosty words and for a small moment the cold hard gaze she wore fell. "My end, Fennick." Her hand rested on the words and the warmth of the contact began to melt away the words. Scarlet knew hers was coming soon. The least she could do for the man-child-frost-fae was to give him a little insight to the angsty, death ridden depths of her mind. "My corruption is killing me. I will quite literally explode with a petrifying force that would decay any living thing within... well..." She paused, she did not know how vast nor how absolute her destruction would be. "It'd be the end. My end." Her hand lifted from the frost and fell to the large round of her stomach. She ran her hand to and fro on it. The thriving creature inside of her was the only reason she had not yet expired. The only reason that Lichensith kept her around. She had a manner of months before it would come kicking, screaming, and crying into an undeserving world and in that instant. Scarlet knew she would no longer be of use.

    Her eyes lifted to Fenn's bristled form.

    Oh how he had such hatred in his eyes. A fury fueled by a world that had constantly thrown ire toward him. The callous smile returned to her lips. The mask of a cold, dead, madwoman. "Temper, temper." She chided before turning her back to him to address the alchemist.

    "So you're essentially using my blood to do whatever the hell you want?" Scarlet stepped away from the counter and toward Nevin's towering form. She reached out and gave him a hard slap on the back. It was a gesture of good will and comrade right? The entire atmosphere in the shop was stiffing and it wasn't just because of her 'eu de death' fragrance. It was a strained stillness from her presence. Fenn was on edge, literally. Ready to explode out of his seat in a tirade of silent anger and ice. Nevin, he seemed less so- but too stifled. All work and no play. He coughed and straightened himself as he slapped her arm away. Well. No humor this guy. Fuckin' bore.

    "Fine. Fine." Scarlet said with a few nods as she crossed her arms over her chest. "The fuck do I care what you do with your share, as long as you provide mine and don't screw me over." She paused as she noticed the alchemist look back to Fenn then to herself. "What? need a private moment? I ain't got all day." She tapped her stomach. "Need to eat, lest I grow weak at the knees." She mused in a callous tone, it was a joke. Somewhat. IF she didn't rest she would be unsteady. But they didn't need to know that.

    "So how we do this? I just bleed into a few vials and you get shit sorted or?"

  6. #16
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Nevin felt Fenn's gaze on him for a long few moments, but whatever the little fae was thinking about remained locked behind his eyes. Instead, the dusky skinned frost fae turned his attention back to the woman in the store, and wrote a question in the ice. The alchemist felt a slight apprehension when he read that question - he doubted that Fenn would like the answer to that question. He didn't know Amari very well, but generally when someone was pushed to a point where they thought of themselves as only a means to an end, they were not in a good place mentally.

    But the alchemist himself wasn't expecting the answer. Her own end? And more than that, it seemed like when her 'end' came, it would damage the environment around her. Tied to that horrid decay in her blood, in her magic. He suppressed the shudder as the woman focused her attention back on him, a cold, hard smile spreading on her lips as she dismissed Fenn. He frowned slightly at that - the smile seemed a bit stilted, off. But that consideration was pushed to the side as she asked about the purpose of the blood he was taking. The unexpected slap to his back irritated him more than anything else, and he let out a cough as he pushed her arm away.

    "No. No, we do not need a private moment." He turned away from the two, and pulled out four vials. He didn't want to take too much blood at first, it would need done in segments. And he was already thinking of what to make from it - both her blood, and the blood that he was keeping. With time, and access to the blood carrying the taint... well. The research would be interesting, and could lead to a way of aiding or limiting things. He set the vials down on the table, and brought out a thin, sharp knife that he set down on the counter. He gestured to the blade. "You just need to make an incision. Once the blood is exposed, I can handle it from there. Creating the potions you desire will take a few days." Normally he would be able to make them on the spot, with fresh donated blood - but dragging the twisted life from her blood that had fallen earlier had taken a fair amount of effort from him, drained and pulled on his reserves more than he had expected it to. But with the decay that should have come from it, well, he wasn't begrudging it. The damage to his shop alone would have been problematic.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  7. #17
    Sweet Cinnamoth

    EXP: 37,766, Level: 8
    Level completed: 31%, EXP required for next Level: 6,234
    Level completed: 31%,
    EXP required for next Level: 6,234


    FennWenn's Avatar

    GP
    2,300

    Name
    Fennik Glenwey
    Age
    Looks eight. He's definitely older.
    Race
    Frost Fae
    Gender
    More or less male.
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    “My end”. Fenn tried not to think of it as a cop-out answer; Amari seemed to have spoken it literally, as in, the literal end of her. He had been looking more for an answer of motivation. A “why”, if you will. A question of “what”, exactly, she was doing with herself. “Temper, temper” his ass. Shaking off a sheen of ice crystals on his cloak, he sighed and let go of the question. It wasn’t going to get a satisfactory answer, and he knew it in a very deep and sad bit of his chest. Even his boundless curiosity knew its limits.

    Speaking of which…

    When Nevin brought out those vials, Fenn couldn’t help but lean in towards them. Partially because, as always, his first instinct when being presented with a shiny object was to stuff it down his satchel. But more strongly came his curiosity. The boy shyly reached out to take one of them in hand, and scribbled down one of his many buzzing questions on the (rather frosty now) desk. Fuckit, he wanted to know more about this, literal-assassin’s-presence be damned. WHAT CAN DO WITH MY BLOOD? IF YOU DO MAGIC BLOOD STUFF TO IT. He was fairly ready to bleed into a few vials for the sake of magical sciences himself. It was then that Fenn resolved to visit his strange alchemist companion more often. For one thing, this blood-thing was mysterious as all hell, and he wanted to investigate into it at times where a certain crackly-skinned witch wasn’t sucking the air out of the room. For another, Nev needed someone to protect his poor, vulnerable recluse self from people like said crackly-skinned witch.

    He stared down into his vial, seeing himself reflected in the glass in the instant before it frosted over. Yes. The boy would protect his fascinating blood-mage friend.

    When he was around.

    Fenn didn’t exactly linger in places for very long. And he wasn’t sure what, in particular, besides Amari, that he would protect Nevin from. And he really, really didn’t have much power to defend with anyway. But he’d do it!

    Faintly, the fae wondered how bloodloss — even a tiny bit — would mingle with his insomnia.

  8. #18
    Shattered heart and Soul

    EXP: 76,735, Level: 11
    Level completed: 98%, EXP required for next Level: 265
    Level completed: 98%,
    EXP required for next Level: 265


    Amari's Avatar

    GP
    4,933

    Name
    Amari L'Olfsden
    Age
    30
    Race
    Ar'Tuel
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Scarlet glanced over her shoulder at Fenn, the tiny and restless fae. Despite their differences she had a way of knowing what he thought, how his emotions were worn so plainly on ice-covered sleeves. "There is no further answer I can give you. My soul has darkened beyond repair and become everything it should not be. I have chosen to not fight this path and accept it. My life belongs to Master Ulroke, and that life will inevitably be a literal bomb." Her voice was curt, cold, and despite talking about her own demise it held little emotion nor care for her own well being. It was a truth she had accepted, one that she knew would inevitably happen. Once Lye was rid of her, he'd no doubt use her to create some sort of devastation, and use it to grow the Seventh Sanctums influence. Scarlet was ok with that. But, a part of her wished things had worked out differently with the quite literally shaking Fae. That she hadn't brutally tortured him. Ah...but those days were long gone and that feeling was small, a tiny spark of regret that was quickly quashed as it was replaced with the stoic uncaring visage of Scarlet. The assassin. Temporary leader of the Crimson Hand. "Mmm...."

    The woman turned back to the tall alchemist. He gave her some sort of dribble on what he'd do, and gestured toward a blade. Did he not see her pierce her own skin? "Tch." Scarlet ignored the blade and dragged her finger across the underside of her arm once more. She then held her palm over it tightly to steep the flow of blood. "A few days is acceptable. I have other business to attend to here, so this works out just fine. I'd rather finish this quickly. I don't think your little friend appreciates my presence."

  9. #19
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    What could he do with a fae's blood? A Frost Fae's, at that? Nevin stared at Fenn for a moment from the corner of his eyes silently contemplating the question. The truth was, he could do a lot with it, not even dipping into the strange things he knew surrounded the little fae himself. Youthfulness, an affinity to illusionary magics, Frost magics - the list went on at length. In his mind, Nevin was already pulling out a list of potions that could be crafted serums that could be brewed from the potent life-blood of the small fae.

    He remembered it. The dollop he had seen before of Fenn's blood, the black ichor that had welled up when the boy had been injured in his shop before. It had sung then, sung of promises of potential and power. Dreams whispered, soft, enticing things, promises of power it could wield. And more, secrets locked away in its depths, waiting to be plundered and used, brought to the surface of that smooth, thick black like dark pearls bead-

    Nevin forcibly ripped his mind off of thoughts of Fenn's blood, narrowing his eyes instead. It took him a precious few seconds to refocus his attention on Scarlet, enough that he missed the first thing she was saying. But he did hear most of it though, and his eyes narrowed. A literal bomb? Tied, no doubt, to this decay that sang in her blood. But if that was this Ulroke's plan, then he likely would not like the fact that someone had the counter to that decay, in any form. Nevin would have to keep the blood he was making, the healing light blood, a secret. But first - first he had to focus on the event on hand.

    He focused, this time not trying to alter the blood as he had before. No, here, he was just controlling the blood's location, it's shape. The blood of the woman flowed up, crimson and thick, singing dark promises of death and decay - but also, ever so softly, ever so faintly, of life, light, hope. He knew that Scrlet held no value in that hidden potential, didn't see it in herself. But that was fine. He didn't need her to see it, to be able to work with it.

    Bottle after bottle filled, and he slowly capped them off one after another. Finally he looked up to her, his red eyes boring into hers. "It is finished. Four days, and you will have your half of the bottles." He stood up, immediately pulling the vials of blood into his coat sleeves and pockets - out of sight and away from prying fingers.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  10. #20
    Sweet Cinnamoth

    EXP: 37,766, Level: 8
    Level completed: 31%, EXP required for next Level: 6,234
    Level completed: 31%,
    EXP required for next Level: 6,234


    FennWenn's Avatar

    GP
    2,300

    Name
    Fennik Glenwey
    Age
    Looks eight. He's definitely older.
    Race
    Frost Fae
    Gender
    More or less male.
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Nevin didn’t say anything. But then, he didn’t have to. His pursed lips and bright eyes spoke of a want, an eagerness, a desire — all things he seemed unwilling to let past his sour lips. The boy returned the mixed stare with a proud grin. His green, green eyes half-closed as he steepled his fingers thoughtfully.

    It hadn’t been said aloud — what could be done with fae blood — but Fenn was certain that it was useful.

    As Amari doled out her share of life's liquid, Fenn set about filling his single vial. Carefully, he closed his hand into a fist and focused on it, his fingertips tingling with magic. When they fanned open again, a small silver icicle lay in his palm. No way in Sidhe was he using a sharp-y-sharp iron knife to do the deed. Only slightly wincing, the fae made a couple pinpricks in his thumb and waited (with more patience than was common of him) for the oily ooze to fill the vial.

    His ears flicked back as his attention turned to Nevin. HAVE BANDAGE? OR BOOZE? HELP MUCH, YES? was scrawled atop the counter again. Perhaps it was a silly question; of course Nevin had alcohol. He always had alcohol. Fenn had occasionally been berated (to little avail) for sticking his nose in the achemist’s stache.

    Though, he wasn’t certain how much he could trust a drink with Amari in the room.

    …but he could chance it with Nevin here.

    BLOOD PAY FOR? MAYBE PAY FOR LAST DAMAGES TO SHOP TOO! The fae looked very, very hopeful as he jotted down the latter sentences. Because boy, Fenn’s visits all too often involved broken doors, stolen merchandise, and shattered glass.
    Last edited by FennWenn; 06-26-2018 at 11:32 AM.

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