The First path of

Part 3ish

Cautiously, Adrian reached toward Zantastith as Witchsnath slowly reached into the folds of leather at his abdomen.

Holding his hands up gently, our guest said,"Wait just a second. I'm not a Bleodrong or one of the other groups that gives my kind a bad name."

I looked over to Adrian

"The Bleodrong are a large group of Fuilrians that take to murdering and butchering foreigners, syphoning off their blood to use as a massive magic storage among other things"

Then Adrian turned to him and asked "Then what tribe or village are you from."

"I'm a Syitholan" he said with a smile "Its a small village in the geyser plans to the South-West of the basin".

At this Adrian visibly relaxed and nodded before replaying "Ahh ok ".

I looked over at him with a questioning look.

Adrian looked at me and proceeded to explain,"Syitholans are a small group of Fuilrians that use their own blood to create symbols and runes the feed of the magic of their blood. There are stories that the symbols last until they are destroyed or the caster dies, but they are a reclusive group so no one really knows." Adrian ended his sentence with a question in his voice.

Our guest simply smiled and raises his glass to his lips not answering. Then he put his cup down and pulled out a square piece of paper. He raised up his hand to show us his thumb. We watched as blood slowly started to bubble up out of his pores than he pressed his thumb to the paper. When he pulled his thumb away from the paper the blood had soaked into the paper and dried to form an integrated shape (close to a biohazard symbol).

"Here" he hands it over to me. "Every time I lie, a piece will burn."

I look at him with an eyebrow raised,"A little proof would go a long way."

He smiled,"well of course. I'm a 12 foot tall, beautiful blonde woman with the best legs you have ever seen."

Seeing as though he was a 5 10 black haired him with extremely questionably attractive legs, I wasn't surprised at all when the corner of the piece of paper combusted into a deep red flame.

"Is the magic connected to you, or could you have it burn when someone else lies?"

He simply smiled and replied "Just as a magician never reveals his tricks, a Fuilrian never reveals his limits"

"Fair enough, let us start with the basics then. What is your name?"

"My name is Quillian."

"Kellian?" I replied

He shook his head "No Callian, you know with a K."

I looked up and over at Adrian, where he shook his head chuckling but motioned me not to ask.

Callean looked over towards Adrian who simply replied "I visited once long ago so I already know how it works." to which Cellian just simply smiled and nodded.

"So I finally found you, you Demonic Little Blood Spawn." said a voice rasping voice dripping with murderous -intent behind Adrian.

Adrian was up, Zantastith in his hand faster than I could even identify the voice as a threat. Even as fast as he was, our welcomed guest was even faster. His blades were in his hands and he was already running towards the dark where the voice had come from. Blades and body slowly lighting into emerald flames and black slag and obsidian forming over him. Not having time to think on it now I filed away the fact that instead of it looking as though he was being consumed like last time, it looked as though it was giving him armor, into the back of my mind. Quickly I grabbed my grimoire and threw my mind into it.