A Demon? Anyways here's Banshee
TOAnniversary [Reason +1] w/ Grima
ONCE, JUST ONCE, he would prefer if a leisure activity were actually for leisure rather than requiring him to deal with a particularly troublesome beast that has decided to make the quietest spot he could find a hotbed for activity of the more magical nature. Truly, this has to be retribution from the goddess for invoking her name far too often, how else is he going to explain managing to get himself trapped unprepared in an illusion yet again. At least this time, the monk is nowhere to be found to see this bout of misfortune that's fallen upon his head like a sack of bricks and his tome is mercifully intact for dealing with the nuisance that has interrupted his hard fought for retreat.
Still, Hubert is cautious, gouging deep into the towering tree with the dagger to mar its bark, leaving a clear path to follow lest he find himself running in circles and yet... he can just about make out a figure in the magic laden fog, no doubt another unfortunate soul that found themselves amidst the enchanted forest in the mountain valley. Yet as he approaches, Hubert can only recognise the wrongness given off, a familiar omen to the mage that so often dabbles in arts darker than most are prepared to venture into and yet it's soothing in a way, to have a sense of familiarity in a place so overwhelmingly bathed in faith.
Squinted eyes can just about see through the mist, making out the shape and almost distinct appearance of the Eagle's new Reason professor, with features caught in a scowl, were it not implausible Hubert would almost argue he was arguing with himself and yet that is no doubt a matter for another time, most definitely requiring further investigation during the academic year when the security around the records became pitifully dull.
"Professor." Sharp tongued, words that bite like a serpent through the fog even as he feels the phantom gaze fall upon his skin once more, a hand reaching to crack open the tome as incantation blooms to life in his grasp, flaring to life before Banshee darts into the treeline, doing little to dissuade the cackling menace that darts across the branches so mockingly.
"It would seem our formal introduction is to hunt the particularly bothersome beast lurking in the fog, a pity, I would have preferred it to be over coffee, I'm sure your insights into our shared magic would have been rather interesting."
-> @wyrmandtheworm
"Likewise."
A... demon? Pah.
Grima was the closest thing to.
A snap of the fingers, and a bolt of Thoron, blackened and fell, races through the trees, singing the air with the scent of ozone.
"GAH! It's annoying with the chittering. What manner of beast even... no matter. If it claims itself a demon? Let's show it our hell."
'...Way too much, Grima.'
'Well, sorry that your dramatic flair is too timid.'
His tome flickers open, darting from page to page, before a sickeningly green orb darts forth as well, attempting to pin down the abberation.
"It's... far too easy for this... thing, to hide in the shade."
Damnit. If he was still himself, and not trapped in this pitiful body, maybe he could actually see! Robin's eyesight was pitiful.
'...Maybe I should get some glasses commissioned.'
'Thoughts for later, worm! You're a tactician! Tactic this! NOW!'
Grima was a dragon of many things.
One of those things was not subtlety. Subterfuge? Yes. But combat simplicity? Not quite.
It was easier to just release a haze of corrosive breath, and watch all miserable life wither.
But there was no ill breath here, except come the morning, when Robin awoke.
But that didn't mean Grima forgot how to ruin.
"The trees. It's clinging to them as armor. Well then..."
Another orb of Miasma crashes into a tree, which corrodes away. No matter. The creature seems to jabber something, and the damage to the environ is undone.
"Damnit! It's linked to the blasted trees! It doesn't seem any more tired from the assault either."
Robin was silent. Infuriatingly so.
The ONE TIME he wanted to hear their voice, and they finally shut up!?
















