LOREN
The siren had at least gotten the red-headed woman to pause in her reckless assault. However, it hadn’t totally taken her over, it seemed: though Loren couldn’t hear the woman’s words, he could see her covering her ears and speaking. That meant he still had work to do. Before anything else, he made sure the arrow’s fire went out by chucking it in a deep snowdrift. Then he commanded the siiren to keep singing and as he approached the tree where the red-head was still cowering.There had been something the gods had instructed the Launceleyn to try. So carefully, he worked his Rose from his belt, and held it up. Then, holding it in a gentle grip with his mind and his telekinesis, he floated it up quickly to the woman above; she wasn’t so high, especially given his own height, that he couldn’t reach up to her with his magic. The strain of maintaining multiple spells was wearing on him already, but he had enough energy to direct the flower’s thorns into the fingers of one of the woman’s hands where they covered her ears.
If he was successful in his efforts, or if the woman showed any sign of trying to destroy the rose, the Launceleyn would pull it as far away as he could with his magic.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
