27. [video]
[Light filters in through the dusty windows of the church, showing Aureln's face. The black and blue bruising down her cheekbones has largely faded to yellow and pink - she doesn't seem to notice them. Her helm is held in her lap, newly polished. There's a haughty upturn to her chin, a cool curl to her lip, as she looks at the camera.
Her voice is crisp.]
We have an accomplished blacksmith in our number now. Perhaps he might turn his attention to the forge. He'll be able to put our metal to good use, certainly. [There's a momentary purse of the lips, almost petulant, and then she tilts her head. Taernoth, this is not a suggestion, get your arse to the forge and do something useful.]
Viola, if he speaks out of turn to you, don't hesitate to talk back.
[Her gauntletted fingers ring against the helm.]
Med'an - how are you doing?
[She's silent for a spell, as if she thinks she ought to say more. But instead, she just picks up the communicator.]
[LOCKED to MYHRTA // 45%]
...The Darkspear ought to hold to our truce, Kal'dorei.
Her voice is crisp.]
We have an accomplished blacksmith in our number now. Perhaps he might turn his attention to the forge. He'll be able to put our metal to good use, certainly. [There's a momentary purse of the lips, almost petulant, and then she tilts her head. Taernoth, this is not a suggestion, get your arse to the forge and do something useful.]
Viola, if he speaks out of turn to you, don't hesitate to talk back.
[Her gauntletted fingers ring against the helm.]
Med'an - how are you doing?
[She's silent for a spell, as if she thinks she ought to say more. But instead, she just picks up the communicator.]
[LOCKED to MYHRTA // 45%]
...The Darkspear ought to hold to our truce, Kal'dorei.