"Bro, do you have any of the clay you used to make Alise? We need it NOW. If the sorcerer is there, see if he has anything of celtic clays? Ike will lose her wing if we don't move fast. I can have a Rider there in moments."
He picks from Stoney's mind the moment Alise put an end to Jean-Marc, and the stunned silence from all witnesses. Bravissimo Mon Fleur! Excellente'!
Ob looks over Pandora's shoulder, watching her pack the wound with cloth until the clay can be found.
Dude! Clay? Mortuis?
Stoney blinks, once, twice. His skin pales even more. Leaning down, he speaks to a gnome, who scurries off through the brush. He raises his eyes to Mortuis, taking it slow rising back up.
"Sir? Is there anything you can spare that has celtic clay in it? Something you won't mind not getting back? Ike is going to lose a wing. A Rider will be here in minutes."
There is a clatter of hooves and a dark cloaked figure prances before the gates.
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