Where did it all go wrong? With a muttered apology, Bryn let an arrow fly. It hit her companion, and she cringed as light tore through heir swamp druid friend. Sure, Quily and her weren't exactly best buddies, but it hurt her to hurt him. It was too familiar, hit too close to home for it to sit okay with her. Images of Perun flashed before her, images of Kalen Vorn's laughter taunting her mercilessly. Even in her dreams she heard it, the slow, mocking chuckles, and it enraged her. She would not let another incident like that happen, she had sworn that much. Except she had, and it was. An unholy rage filled her, burned through her veins and clouded her vision with a fine red mist. Before she could properly react, however, Bryn caught sight of a mighty war hammer finishing the job. Her job. Her whispered words fell onto deaf ears: "damn dwarf." The draconic fell easily from her lips, just as familiar with her now as it had been when she learned it from him.
It wasn't until Stalar made his way into the room (much later than the others) that her vision cleared and the world lost its red tint.
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