Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20161008211047/@comment-28358106-20161022023418

The easy, joking demeanor we shared only moments before is erased from my features. The doors swing open slowly, showing us the entrance to the wide, open foyer.

My hands spark with runes. Their energy travels from my fingers and up into my arms, where they gradually fade as they move. Some might note that it is vaguely reminiscent of Lucida's own recalling of her runes, but mine is constant, always flowing. Now the time for vigilance, and I wear the same expression as I do when I always work focus honed to a razor's edge, a knife between my mind and the black recesses of uncertainty. I utter a saying that I always do before each trial...

"Lothron mín lond n-a mín túr bre."

I close a fist and my hands hum, drawing deeply from the folds of the arcane.