[sylvanSpider]

Percival, satisfied with his work with Christoval, stood up and brushed his hands together. Crisis averted. Christoval would be fine, and Kastivi never appeared to be hurt. As far as he was concerned, his job for the time being was accomplished. He turned to Deadwaltz, “And to that I must ask what kind of a Northerner gets outdrank by a Midlander? You know, I could cast a spell to help you with your cramps.” He gave a bit of a nonchalant shrug there having used magic to take care of many hangovers in the past. “Then, Dead Waltz, you need to spend less time in the wilderness and more time in cities, with larger concentrations of people. You know.”

Arabella stood and watched the conversation happening about her, quite amused that Deadwaltz placed such faith in her. “Dead Waltz, I'm flattered that you think I could handle a great axe, but I'm afraid one of those weighs more than I do,” she said grinning. “I might be strong from a battle tactician's standpoint, but physically there is no way.”

“There is no need to insult our fighter, ser knight,” Percival said, ruing Christoval's agreeance, “She is strong and expects her party members to exhibit that kind of strength. It's no fault of hers if our halfling friend shows her strength in other ways. She is no twit on the battlefield – I would place my money on her over you any day.” To say that Percival was not fond of Christoval would be an understatement, but the sorcerer did live up to his calling in keeping the man healed. “That said, there's no such thing as 'a bit fast' for an adventurer. For all you know, you won't live to see the next goblin before something comes out of the woods. Life can be short, and it tends to be shorter for those in our line of work. Something to think about.” He tapped his temple and took that as his leave from a conversation with the young knight.

Kastivi breathed a sigh of relief when the wizard came to her aid. Double the weights around her ankles didn't sound wonderful, but compared to being chased by a modified hound of hell, Kastivi was eager to take it. “What are you teaching Ara?” she asked, eyes wide, looking first at the darkmage and then at the halfling. Arabella always advocated for interdisciplinary magics and abilities, but she never imagined the halfing would veer towards dark magics. She gulped, “What do...what do harbingers of Hell do?”

Arabella pursed her lips, giving a slight glare to the dark mage for blabbing it out loud in front of her apprentice. She'd planned to tell her, but she wanted to get further before she announced what her official plans were. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her apprentice climbing down from the tree and taking the weights out of her bag. She'd doubled up before so she required no aid in getting them set up around her ankles, and it was refreshing that her apprentice actually adhered to her punishment rather than attempt to shirk it. “Dead goblins?” Ara asked, turning to Christoval, “Did you see how it died perchance?”