Exton

Ob closes the cell phone, tapping it against his palm. Either Keon was out of range, or his phone was off. Neither Twillon nor Guunnar knew of any missions the Dark Lord would be on. Miko hovers at his shoulder, deep in thought.

"*Hermano... Blood and Blade. Old spell... if he is our home realm, we reach him by that. You got a silver blade? Si?"

Ob stares at the small warrior as he hangs in the air. His mind flies through the regulars and those who stay at the Tavern when not out on missions. There was a steady business with Other realmers, now. His gaze settles on Twillon, where the Seelie Dark Lord sips a cup of black coffee.

Twillon looks up as the pair approaches his table. Ob drops into a chair next to him as Miko perches on the ever-present plants used as table decorations since the demifae took up residence. The broad leaf dips under the small warrior's weight. The Sidhe nods as Ob asks about the spell of Blood and Blade. He stands and heads toward the bar for his blade, agreeing to meet the two men in the private dining room.

Ob closes the door behind them as Twillon lays his longblade on the table. Weebit has joined them, perching on the back of a chair. Her patchwork wings fan slowly, keeping her steady. Miko watches her from the corner of his eye. He can see the effort it takes, and her determination to ignore the pain.

Twillon holds out a hand to her and she slits forward, landing gratefully in his palm.

"Will thou heal mine hurt, My Lady, an I make the call to our Kith?"

Weebit bows, kissing his palm. "Needs must be done, do as ye needs. I offer healing freely."

Ob raises a brow at Miko who flits to the Gar's shoulder to whisper an explanation. "He will cut on his sword hand. The stronger the blood flow, the stronger the call. But he may need to wield the sword, so will need to be whole before patrol. He does not take demifae gifts for granted." He stares at the patchwork woman. "She must love him greatly to give of herself so freely. She will be depleted..."

A hiss of pain draws their eyes. Twillon has slid the ball of his index finger along the razor's edge of his blade. Three drops of blood run along the shining surface. Twillon leans close and breathes on the blade.

"Keon, Lord Blackthorn. Lord of the Night. Lord of Hounds. Heed my call..."

Twillon squeezes out another drop of blood. As it hits the blade's surface there is a chime, the ring of steel on steel. Moments later Keon's eyes peer back, blurred by the small warps in the finely made blade.

"Twill? What the hell..."

"Where the fuck are you Ke? Ron's missing and we think he ran into ghouls. His pals are ready to go hunting NOW."

There is a splash and drops of wetness obscure the blade. "He was at the houseboat two nights ago. Came right after patrol. I'll hop a path and be there soon. He was going to drink himself into oblivion, to forget. I told him that won't work, but... Clean your blade Twill, I'll be there as soon as I get some clothes."

Twillon wipes the blade, breaking the spell. "Well he is in the Fae Realms. Those were his personal baths, and he wasn't alone."

Weebit lands on Twillon's offered hand and presses kisses to his bleeding fingertip. He cradles her gently, as the wound begins to close. Miko bows to the room and takes to the air.

"I will let the others know that the Dark Lord is on his way."

Ob laughs when they hear Stoney telling one of Ron's to be patient. They couldn't hunt Ron in were shape before night hit, and shouldn't do it on an empty stomach. Monty knocks on the door, letting them know that dinner was ready and Tori called. Ike was rousing, so if they wanted something to eat, they better get something before the sisters and Guunnar got to it.

"I think they already know..."

As he passes Miko, Ob hears the demifae mutter something about gargoyles and their damded telepathy.