“Never!” Syn roared in abject rage as she lunged forward, only to have her wild swing met with a skillful parry from one of his warrior maidens, while he stepped back, clearing the path for her twin to engage. But she quickly regained control of her anger, knowing that it would give them the advantage. Circling away, she shot Torryn a glance to see him tracking Haryk with his bow, just waiting for the opening to fire without endangering her but warned him off; “This is my fight.” Reluctantly, the wood elven archer stood down, but kept Miir ready to fire to an instant’s notice. He understood Syn’s reasoning; if she couldn’t prove to house Ealoeth that she could resist them alone, they would continue to hunt her relentlessly… but he didn’t have to like it. Turning her attention back to the haughty elf lord she mocked; “I’ll die before you get me in that wedding bed… and that will leave you without your prize, because only another worthy Mistrivvin can claim this sword… if there is still another one!” “Come now,” Haryk snickered dismissively, remaining a discreet distance behind his warrior proxies, trying to provoke her anger again, “surely you’re not going to force me to raise you from the dead just to bed you… I’ve been rejected by women before, but that’s a bit extreme.” “Not even that would do it,” she spat venomously as she moved into attack, this time with the elegant grace of bladesong’s deadly ballet. “Fortunately, it will not come to that,” he announced overconfidently, then spoke a brief incantation in Aragrakh, old high wyrm, a language used only in the casting of arcane spells, while holding forth a small iron rod. She recognized the hold spell that would have turned her into a living statue, leaving her unable to move and completely defenseless, but her moonblade instantly responded as a shimmering sphere of magic nullifying energy enveloped her, defeating his spell. “Not so fortunate as you thought,” she taunted as she pressed her attack against the haughty elf lord’s pair of sun elven fighters, but it quickly became apparent that she outmatched their skills, even as they coordinated their efforts, so if his magic was useless against her, he’d need a different tactic to defeat her. Looking to Torryn, Haryk smirked as he offered in an arrogant tone, mistaking him for a man after his own nature; “I’ll give you twice her weight in gold, more than enough to live like a king for years, if you bring her down without killing her. I know she bought your favor with her wiles, but you wanted nothing to do with her and all these pollical troubles when you met her. So, be rid of it all and become a rich man!” Syn faltered for an instant, shooting a look to the wood elf, the thought that he might betray her crashing in on her mind. After all, Haryk has spoken the truth; he had initially wanted nothing more than to walk away from her, only Miir had stopped him, but now she had earned his respect and loyalty… hadn’t she?