Welcome to Gaia! ::

Kassadin bowed his head.

"Likewise."

He took another sip, humming.

"I feel an air of agreement to drink in such a manner. It is a good thing to be content like this."

"The River? Hmm... I've no memory of a river per se..."

Kassadin looked down at the covered arm, curious. He'd wanted to ask about it, but he respected this man far too well to do so.

"Do you refer to a river-like entity or object?"

"Mm, I understand..."

He sipped some more, humming.

"I have come across places where there were stronger bouts of 'energy,' but I've not see this river you speak of., my apologies."

(Ugh, sleep calls... night! *flop*)

Shadow walks into the Inn of piece in his human form flowing black hair demonic red eyes glowing wearing no shirt and baggy black pants with two giant scars forming a X on his chest grabs his katana and moves it a bit to the side and walks towards a table. Siting down he looks all around him recalling everything back in the old days that had happened here. Recalling his daughter Zulma the current guardian of the inn of peace. Shadows demonic red eyes look across the room looking at the new faces that arnt familiar to him and he thinks to himself. "Well this is nothing new i have not been here in ages there is bound to be new faces."

Shadow sits back and chuckles to himself. "I wonder if my daughter Zulma fairs well. I have been gone for such a long time that I do not even know if my daughter is doing alright. But the quest that i did had to be done no matter what." Shadow says to himself.

There would be a rattle at the door. The sound of two voices arguing, a third which snapped but was still too muted to hear. There would be a loud thud against the door- as if something were thrown against it. After a few long moments the door would open.
A very bruised and bloodied blonde woman would enter. Her beautiful dress torn and ripped, some of it was being used to support the right arm. Her shoes were nowhere to be found and just as well will the poorly healed gash up her left leg gave her reason to limp. Her head was down, long hair hiding her face but even now small drops of blood plipped onto the floor.

She'd seethe as he tried to help but she'd endure it. He meant well. She kept her face hidden behind golden stands and very slowly would sit where directed. Gasping as a new round of pain shot through her, one of her jeweled hands would turn into a fist. Her tone was cool and controlled, but it held a sweetness reserved for him, "I won't die, Bure. Don't panic. Just go slow."

She'd grit her teeth, shifting slightly to give him better access to her leg, taking in a gasp of air, a small shriek, "No- they are more than twice as strong as I am, claws and teeth. I have very little training in brawler style training."
Tamriel would cradle her slung arm, it didn't hurt as bad as her leg did- nothing hurt as much as her face, "This wasn't half as bad as the fight three years ago, she mused almost bitterly, "she went so far as to break my leg."