#{sonya.}

          “You-- witch,”

     After hours of combing through Askr’s library-- of spending his time as far away from the other heroes roaming its blasted walls, and trying to find some way to be send back on his own-- something useful presented itself to the sorcerer. Perhaps it does not pertain to any escape plan festering in the back of his mind, or a means to overcome the contract keeping him from harming those who dare get on his last nerve, but it does regard the god he worships. That ragtag army-- the one led by that boy who wielded one of Naga’s accursed fangs-- had entered a labyrinth buried within the sands of Thabes; into the place where the first Fellblood, his ancestor, resided. Such information had been left out of the history book that resided within Plegia’s archives, and to say that much information about the place lies within any pages of the books there would be an understatement-- frankly, there is nothing more than mere mentions of it. To find out what was there-- if Grima truly came into existence in that place-- would be invaluable. Perhaps, he thinks, something to accelerate the Fell Dragon’s revival might remain in its depths.      And so, he seeks out the first person he sets his eyes upon that matches one of that boy’s soldiers’ descriptions.