The condor grabs Coldfire with its talon and pins her to the ground. No later after this was do I walk into the hall, clutching my side. The Condor releases its grip, and gives a nice shriek. I walk over to it, untie the box and give it a good pat, and off it flies. Still holding my side, I tell coldfire, "has anyone else been here?"
"No one has been here at all," I replied. I got Prince to sit down in a chair, and lifted up his clothing and moved his hand to have a look at his side. It wasn't pretty; the gash was deep and jagged. Glancing up at him, I put both hands against it, and pressed ever so gently. Prince hissed, trying to push my hands away. Muttering a spell, I began to heal the gash.
"Replace able eh? Than he has no value. And therefore no reason to stay." And as the hooded figure made it's way over to the corpse, it past over the red burgendy box. Making the unknown rapping boil away, for a split second, the head of Syren could be seen. But for that split second, it decintegrated into flesh to bone, to ash, were it was blown away.