two moons walk into a ruined bar and...

Fiore Marquez walked gracefully through the rubble, his head held high with his peripheral focus on the ruined ground. The Talon was keen to assure his gait appeared nothing less than a gliding swan, even among unstable ground. His pocketed hands hitched the skirt of his dark burgundy doublet over his hips, draping down his back-side and into the folds of his cloak. He made eye contact with the foreman as he left, but did not return the nod from the man.

As he stopped before the dowager queen, the older Crow watched as Eularia’s attention turned to her children, playful and safe within their bubble. He envied them for a moment, so young and innocent, gleeful amidst destruction and impending doom.

His chest rose as he took a deep breath when she finally addressed him. As the moons drew closer to turning their full, glowing gaze upon the land, Fiore’s senses had sharpened only to drive a hunger in his gut that craved viscera. Bloodlust claws at my skin, eager to savage my flesh, He said plainly.  But I am, fortunately for everyone else, a man of great resolve. The Talon gave a brief smirk beneath his black mustache. It was, of course, no virtue of his character which held back his urges—as no one had ever broken a curse on virtue alone.

The humor disappeared from his weathered features and Fiore looked around at the charred wood and fallen bricks of the destroyed tavern,  It does seem that a destructive temper runs in the blood—or, maybe its simply a rite of passage for a mage, hm? He looked back to meet her gaze again. How do you fare, my dear? With the rage of your daughter and the blood of your husband finally on your hand? He asked.

There was an easy way to deal with Adaria, Fiore thought to himself, but he knew she would never allow it. Yet Fiore would send his spies to follow her where she fled, whether Eularia willed it or not.