Damien
Damien choked back a laugh.
"Everyone in this city is a mage of some sort. You're about as unarmed as the rest of them," he scoffed, tightening his grip on his staff. "And besides, you've got too much magic to be an unarmed citizen, with your fancy clothes a dead giveaway you're no commoner who only uses parlor tricks." His pale eyes narrowed, knees bending as he took a sturdier, more aggressive stance. "Don't try any funny moves, pal. I got eyes in the back of my head," he snapped at the passerby who stood poised to enter the fray.
"He means me, of course," chimed Belial. Had the elemental a mouth, it would have been in what many refer to as a shit-eating grin, his blue eyes glittering wickedly. Floating over to the passerby, making shooing motions with his hands, the elemental continued, "This doesn't concern you and your--" he sniffed "--paltry magical abilities. You'd best be on now, shoo. On with you, little mage."
With Belial keeping his watchful eyes on the other mage--proving to be useful for once--Damien kept his steely gaze on the well dressed man before him. "I ain't gotta tell you nothing, pal. You're the one stalking me, and normal people don't do that unless they wanna mug someone or cause trouble, so no, I won't be putting this down." His frown deepened. "I've been doing nothing but minding my own business, buying food and looking for a place to sleep. Ain't my fault people stare, now why don't you tell me what business you have stalking us, buddy, cause the way I see it, I wouldn't trust you farther than I could throw you."
The elf stared him down, unblinking and unmoving, save for his hair that doubled as a spirit elemental.
html by castlegraphics
