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Discussing the nature of her relationship with Quay…

"I don't understand you." Ivy commented as she watched Lyme do reps, occasionally walking over to correct her form. "This boy of yours…you go to him for physical release, yes?"

"That's one way of putting it. You see, Ivy, when a boy and a girl like each other very much--"

"—Shut up, child." The trainer rolled her eyes. "What I mean is, you are highly attached to him. If I didn't know better, I'd expect you to marry him."

Lyme scowled at the notion. She had seen what marriage brought. Her mother had forty husbands, all slain by her own hand.

Her sister, Val, had been arranged to marry a male since the two of them were young. She hated him, initially, but that hate changed, transforming into a love that threatened all of their mother's sensibilities. Naturally, she had the male killed after that. And ensured that the child growing in Val's belly never came to exist. Val was never the same after that.

Her sister, Rel, had twelve husbands, all arranged. She was a pawn in their mother's mercantile games, used for her beauty and charm to ensare hapless men. Naturally, all of those men were eventually slain as well, but Rel was always under someone's thumb. And now, she sat in bars, whispering sweet nothings into gullible men's ears. She left them little more than empty husks when she was finished, emotionally exhausted, occasionally physically scarred, and often, nothing short of traumatized. It was her own way of getting back at her deceased husbands, and their mother, for placing her in such unfair situations, so often.

Her sister, Ili…well…everyone already knew THAT story.

Her sister, Shar, actually got to marry for love. Twice. The first male beat her, raped her, and left her for dead on more than one occasion. It wasn't until she realized that she could no longer protect their son that she got it into her head that it was time to leave. She was freed from him soon enough, his body found in their small apartment, a charred husk of what had once been a burly guard. Lyme had often suspected that their sister, Jhael, had something to do with his death. Death by burning would be ideal for the hot-tempered priestess of Kossuth.

And the second time, she had fled that male. All he did was love her…and she couldn't stand it. One day, she struck him, all because he had brought her a boquet of lilies. She left, ensuring that her other son was cared for by him.

And now, she was married to a pasha. For money. And she still wasn't happy.

"I would never get married." Lyme replied in an even voice, drawing her daggers, and hitting the target Ivy had set up with perfect precision. "Marriage is just another word for exploitation."

She sighed. "Besides…what kind of life would that be for him? Sure, we could be happy together, but he would always be a target. The Skulls' enemies would sieze him, and come after him. I won't have that."

A rare smile crossed Ivy's lips.

"Good answer."

Upon learning that LiNeerath has snatched up Quay…

Adrenaline burned in Lyme's veins as she stepped into her apartment, heading straight for her bedroom, and snatching a suitcase out from under her bed. Inside lay two sharp, gleaming daggers, just begging to be coated in the nastiest poison she owned, and plunged right into LiNeerath's blackened heart.

"What do you think you're doing?" A cold, familiar voice sounded from the shadows.

"Going to make a necklace out of LiNeerath's ovaries." Lyme replied sharply, ignoring Ivy as she strapped the daggers to her back.

"You will die if you try to infiltrate House Baenndar." The trainer replied in a flat voice. "She will find you, and then she will rape you, kill you, and eat you, if that last rumor is true. And not necessarily in that order, either."

"And what do you suppose is happening to Felyn right now?" Lyme held her gaze in an iron vice, the same hard glint in her eyes that her sister, Ili, had shown so many times during battles.

It made Ivy itch to slap her.

"There is no question about what is happening to him." The elder assassin replied, stepping over to the nearby chair, and taking a seat on the black cushions. "But I more concerned about what is happening to you."

Seeing that Lyme was more focused on filling a nearby bag of holding with smoke bombs, she continued, "This boy is making you weak. You care for him."

"Caring isn't weakness."

"And yet here you are, about to risk your life. Why?"

The younger assassin paused, before shaking her head. "It…it's just not right."

"And as an assassin, you are above such principals. You are far too involved."

"Being an assassin is my JOB. Not my life, unlike you." Lyme scowled, and turn to leave, but came to a dead, frozen halt, hearing Ivy's next words.

"If you go after him, I will kill him myself. And I will make it worlds worse than anything LiNeerath can conjure up."

The younger assassin turned, slowly, and caught sight of the hard expression on Ivy's face.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered. "Why?"

"It's for your own good." The assassin replied, before reaching into her pocket, and taking out a slip of paper. "Now, if we may get back to business, I have contracts for you to carry out."

Anger hummed in Lyme's veins, practically singing for her to throttle Ivy. How could she? The bitch had loved someone before, she knew that. She had a husband, and a child. And she lost both. She knew what that meant. Why would she do this?

But, Lyme also knew better than to press her on the matter. For once, she held her tongue, and sat down, quietly listening to Ivy. After all, Felyn's life was now at stake on two ends.

She would never forgive Ivy for this. And more importantly, she would find a way to free him. She would.

Getting help.

Lyme knew that she could not directly assist Felyn herself. Luckily, she had several very wily, wily siblings to help her out.

First, she spoke to Sol.

"Come on, Sol!" Lyme whined, watching as her sibling toted her little girl around the village, Kylee running to and fro, inspecting every nook and crevice.

"I can't. I need to look after Kylee. She just discovered her magic." Sol shook her head, grabbing the toddler before she could place a handful of dirt in her smiling mouth. "Besides, what would you have me do? Ivy will know that you were involved if I lop off LiNeerath's head."

"Well, maybe, but--" Lyme paused, watching as Sol dashed over to Kylee, hurriedly stamping out the fire the little girl had just created with a wave of her hands, and a nearby tree stump.

"Now that you mention it, I think you have your hands full."

Second, she spoke to Val.

"Why are you bothering me with this?" Val rolled her eyes, and concentrated, easily dominating her younger sister's feeble, chaotic mind, with a single thought. "Get out. Don't bother me again."

Lyme immediately left, and cursed herself afterwards.

Third, she spoke to Rel.

"Rel, I need a favor. I need you to--"

The assassin's wintergreen eyes went about the size of meteorites when she walked into Rel's inn room. The sight of her, and that random male together, was so unbelievably horrible that no words come describe it.

"Come to think of it, you might end up hurting Felyn worse than LiNeerath. Bye!"

And with that, Lyme shut the door with trembling hands, emptying her stomach contents into the nearest potted plant. Some things were just not meant to be seen, or done.

Fourth, she spoke to Jys.

"Come on, Jys, help me out!"

"I'm sorry, Lyme." The ever practical, calm weapon master sighed. "But do you really think that she would grant an audience with one male?"

"…Damn."

Fifth, she spoke to Ili.

"Get the fuck out of my complex!" The assassin shrieked before Lyme could speak, tossing a big, violet fireball at her youngest sister's retreating backside.

Sixth, she spoke to Bel.

"Bel, I need you to--" Lyme paused as she stepped into her sister's studio, scraps of paper littering the floor, the walls covered in paint, and her sister lying in the middle of it all, several old boxes of Kara-turan take-out surrounding her lithe form as she stared up at the ceiling, off in her own artsy-fartsy world.

"Mask, never mind." The assassin huffed, kicking aside a pile of trash as she headed for the day.

Seventh, she spoke to Adin.

"I'd love to help." The sorceress replied with a smile as she patrolled the city of the dead, nodding to several other of Kelemvor's guardians. "But I'm afraid I can't leave until Kelemvor ends my sentence."

"Damn it!"

Eighth, Lyme spoke to Gin.

"The insects will live inside me forever." He hissed through the bars of his cell door, his red eyes glowing hotly in the candlelight. "I will tear through the spider webs, and drink the semen of the cockroaches. They will fear me."

A huff escaped the assassin. "Why did I even come here?"

Ninth, she spoke to Shar.

"I'd be happy to help." Shar smiled widely, always ready to help her littlest sister. "I can ask to visit LiNeerath. Her mother would love to get a foothold in Calimshite silks, I bet, but…after that…I'm not so sure what to do. I'm not much for scheming. You should ask Jhael."

Tenth, she spoke to Jhael.

"Damn acolytes!" The vain, pretty woman snarled, sending a jet of flame after another acolyte who had made the mistake of trying to look up Jhael's skirt with a mirror attached to a stick. "You better run!"

Turning back towards Lyme, she smiled wickedly. "I have an idea."

When they walked inside her room at the temple, Jhael pushed aside dozens of beauty products in her drawers, before producing a needle thin knife.

"I used to carry this with me when I was at the academy." The woman sneered. "Those bitches wouldn't have thought twice before stabbing me, so I did it first."

Handing it over, she declared, "All he needs to do is hide this in his hair, and jam it into her skull when the moment is right. If he's smart, he'll take initiative."

"I'll tell Shar to plant it in the house." Lyme grinned as Shar stepped into the room, and seized her two closest sisters in a hug.

"Thank you both, so much."

Grossing out the rest of Drogan's house

"Oh Mask, Quay." Lyme breathed in a high falsetto, twirling her fingers through her green-tipped hair, her other finger dancing provocatively over his belt buckle. "Whatever will I do with this poor, lost, soaking wet vagina of mine? I wish I could find someone who would give it a good home."

Tash began drinking early that day. This time, Mischa joined her.

Walking through the woods with Tash and Quay

"It's the green eyes, isn't it?" Lyme asked as she and Quay trudged through the heavy snow, following Tash down the path to Blumberg. "You've got a thing for women with green eyes."

"You know it." Quay replied with a grin, which Lyme soon returned, before pulling him into the nearby bushes, a quick spell warming the two of them against the icy conditions.

Tash paused, hearing the heavy footsteps of animals nearby.

"Quay, I think there's some bears about." She growled, taking out THE sword. "Ready your katanas. And Lyme, stay in the shadows then--"

A slight giggle caused her to pause, and turn. Two sets of narrow, black feet stuck out from the bushes. A nearby black bear was busily sniffing the smaller of the pair, his wet nose brushing along the sole of Lyme's foot.

"Quay! That tickles!" The assassin giggled once more, accidentally snapping out her foot, and kicking the bear right in the face.

Tash seriously considered leaving the two of them. Alone. In the cold. With bears about to attack.

Description
Discussing the nature of her relationship with Quay…

"I don't understand you." Ivy commented as she watched Lyme do reps, occasionally walking over to correct her form. "This boy of yours…you go to him for physical release, yes?"

"That's one way of putting it. You see, Ivy, when a boy and a girl like each other very much--"

"—Shut up, child." The trainer rolled her eyes. "What I mean is, you are highly attached to him. If I didn't know better, I'd expect you to marry him."

Lyme scowled at the notion. She had seen what marriage brought. Her mother had forty husbands, all slain by her own hand.

Her sister, Val, had been arranged to marry a male since the two of them were young. She hated him, initially, but that hate changed, transforming into a love that threatened all of their mother's sensibilities. Naturally, she had the male killed after that. And ensured that the child growing in Val's belly never came to exist. Val was never the same after that.

Her sister, Rel, had twelve husbands, all arranged. She was a pawn in their mother's mercantile games, used for her beauty and charm to ensare hapless men. Naturally, all of those men were eventually slain as well, but Rel was always under someone's thumb. And now, she sat in bars, whispering sweet nothings into gullible men's ears. She left them little more than empty husks when she was finished, emotionally exhausted, occasionally physically scarred, and often, nothing short of traumatized. It was her own way of getting back at her deceased husbands, and their mother, for placing her in such unfair situations, so often.

Her sister, Ili…well…everyone already knew THAT story.

Her sister, Shar, actually got to marry for love. Twice. The first male beat her, raped her, and left her for dead on more than one occasion. It wasn't until she realized that she could no longer protect their son that she got it into her head that it was time to leave. She was freed from him soon enough, his body found in their small apartment, a charred husk of what had once been a burly guard. Lyme had often suspected that their sister, Jhael, had something to do with his death. Death by burning would be ideal for the hot-tempered priestess of Kossuth.

And the second time, she had fled that male. All he did was love her…and she couldn't stand it. One day, she struck him, all because he had brought her a boquet of lilies. She left, ensuring that her other son was cared for by him.

And now, she was married to a pasha. For money. And she still wasn't happy.

"I would never get married." Lyme replied in an even voice, drawing her daggers, and hitting the target Ivy had set up with perfect precision. "Marriage is just another word for exploitation."

She sighed. "Besides…what kind of life would that be for him? Sure, we could be happy together, but he would always be a target. The Skulls' enemies would sieze him, and come after him. I won't have that."

A rare smile crossed Ivy's lips.

"Good answer."

Upon learning that LiNeerath has snatched up Quay…

Adrenaline burned in Lyme's veins as she stepped into her apartment, heading straight for her bedroom, and snatching a suitcase out from under her bed. Inside lay two sharp, gleaming daggers, just begging to be coated in the nastiest poison she owned, and plunged right into LiNeerath's blackened heart.

"What do you think you're doing?" A cold, familiar voice sounded from the shadows.

"Going to make a necklace out of LiNeerath's ovaries." Lyme replied sharply, ignoring Ivy as she strapped the daggers to her back.

"You will die if you try to infiltrate House Baenndar." The trainer replied in a flat voice. "She will find you, and then she will rape you, kill you, and eat you, if that last rumor is true. And not necessarily in that order, either."

"And what do you suppose is happening to Felyn right now?" Lyme held her gaze in an iron vice, the same hard glint in her eyes that her sister, Ili, had shown so many times during battles.

It made Ivy itch to slap her.

"There is no question about what is happening to him." The elder assassin replied, stepping over to the nearby chair, and taking a seat on the black cushions. "But I more concerned about what is happening to you."

Seeing that Lyme was more focused on filling a nearby bag of holding with smoke bombs, she continued, "This boy is making you weak. You care for him."

"Caring isn't weakness."

"And yet here you are, about to risk your life. Why?"

The younger assassin paused, before shaking her head. "It…it's just not right."

"And as an assassin, you are above such principals. You are far too involved."

"Being an assassin is my JOB. Not my life, unlike you." Lyme scowled, and turn to leave, but came to a dead, frozen halt, hearing Ivy's next words.

"If you go after him, I will kill him myself. And I will make it worlds worse than anything LiNeerath can conjure up."

The younger assassin turned, slowly, and caught sight of the hard expression on Ivy's face.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered. "Why?"

"It's for your own good." The assassin replied, before reaching into her pocket, and taking out a slip of paper. "Now, if we may get back to business, I have contracts for you to carry out."

Anger hummed in Lyme's veins, practically singing for her to throttle Ivy. How could she? The bitch had loved someone before, she knew that. She had a husband, and a child. And she lost both. She knew what that meant. Why would she do this?

But, Lyme also knew better than to press her on the matter. For once, she held her tongue, and sat down, quietly listening to Ivy. After all, Felyn's life was now at stake on two ends.

She would never forgive Ivy for this. And more importantly, she would find a way to free him. She would.

Getting help.

Lyme knew that she could not directly assist Felyn herself. Luckily, she had several very wily, wily siblings to help her out.

First, she spoke to Sol.

"Come on, Sol!" Lyme whined, watching as her sibling toted her little girl around the village, Kylee running to and fro, inspecting every nook and crevice.

"I can't. I need to look after Kylee. She just discovered her magic." Sol shook her head, grabbing the toddler before she could place a handful of dirt in her smiling mouth. "Besides, what would you have me do? Ivy will know that you were involved if I lop off LiNeerath's head."

"Well, maybe, but--" Lyme paused, watching as Sol dashed over to Kylee, hurriedly stamping out the fire the little girl had just created with a wave of her hands, and a nearby tree stump.

"Now that you mention it, I think you have your hands full."

Second, she spoke to Val.

"Why are you bothering me with this?" Val rolled her eyes, and concentrated, easily dominating her younger sister's feeble, chaotic mind, with a single thought. "Get out. Don't bother me again."

Lyme immediately left, and cursed herself afterwards.

Third, she spoke to Rel.

"Rel, I need a favor. I need you to--"

The assassin's wintergreen eyes went about the size of meteorites when she walked into Rel's inn room. The sight of her, and that random male together, was so unbelievably horrible that no words come describe it.

"Come to think of it, you might end up hurting Felyn worse than LiNeerath. Bye!"

And with that, Lyme shut the door with trembling hands, emptying her stomach contents into the nearest potted plant. Some things were just not meant to be seen, or done.

Fourth, she spoke to Jys.

"Come on, Jys, help me out!"

"I'm sorry, Lyme." The ever practical, calm weapon master sighed. "But do you really think that she would grant an audience with one male?"

"…Damn."

Fifth, she spoke to Ili.

"Get the fuck out of my complex!" The assassin shrieked before Lyme could speak, tossing a big, violet fireball at her youngest sister's retreating backside.

Sixth, she spoke to Bel.

"Bel, I need you to--" Lyme paused as she stepped into her sister's studio, scraps of paper littering the floor, the walls covered in paint, and her sister lying in the middle of it all, several old boxes of Kara-turan take-out surrounding her lithe form as she stared up at the ceiling, off in her own artsy-fartsy world.

"Mask, never mind." The assassin huffed, kicking aside a pile of trash as she headed for the day.

Seventh, she spoke to Adin.

"I'd love to help." The sorceress replied with a smile as she patrolled the city of the dead, nodding to several other of Kelemvor's guardians. "But I'm afraid I can't leave until Kelemvor ends my sentence."

"Damn it!"

Eighth, Lyme spoke to Gin.

"The insects will live inside me forever." He hissed through the bars of his cell door, his red eyes glowing hotly in the candlelight. "I will tear through the spider webs, and drink the semen of the cockroaches. They will fear me."

A huff escaped the assassin. "Why did I even come here?"

Ninth, she spoke to Shar.

"I'd be happy to help." Shar smiled widely, always ready to help her littlest sister. "I can ask to visit LiNeerath. Her mother would love to get a foothold in Calimshite silks, I bet, but…after that…I'm not so sure what to do. I'm not much for scheming. You should ask Jhael."

Tenth, she spoke to Jhael.

"Damn acolytes!" The vain, pretty woman snarled, sending a jet of flame after another acolyte who had made the mistake of trying to look up Jhael's skirt with a mirror attached to a stick. "You better run!"

Turning back towards Lyme, she smiled wickedly. "I have an idea."

When they walked inside her room at the temple, Jhael pushed aside dozens of beauty products in her drawers, before producing a needle thin knife.

"I used to carry this with me when I was at the academy." The woman sneered. "Those bitches wouldn't have thought twice before stabbing me, so I did it first."

Handing it over, she declared, "All he needs to do is hide this in his hair, and jam it into her skull when the moment is right. If he's smart, he'll take initiative."

"I'll tell Shar to plant it in the house." Lyme grinned as Shar stepped into the room, and seized her two closest sisters in a hug.

"Thank you both, so much."

Grossing out the rest of Drogan's house

"Oh Mask, Quay." Lyme breathed in a high falsetto, twirling her fingers through her green-tipped hair, her other finger dancing provocatively over his belt buckle. "Whatever will I do with this poor, lost, soaking wet vagina of mine? I wish I could find someone who would give it a good home."

Tash began drinking early that day. This time, Mischa joined her.

Walking through the woods with Tash and Quay

"It's the green eyes, isn't it?" Lyme asked as she and Quay trudged through the heavy snow, following Tash down the path to Blumberg. "You've got a thing for women with green eyes."

"You know it." Quay replied with a grin, which Lyme soon returned, before pulling him into the nearby bushes, a quick spell warming the two of them against the icy conditions.

Tash paused, hearing the heavy footsteps of animals nearby.

"Quay, I think there's some bears about." She growled, taking out THE sword. "Ready your katanas. And Lyme, stay in the shadows then--"

A slight giggle caused her to pause, and turn. Two sets of narrow, black feet stuck out from the bushes. A nearby black bear was busily sniffing the smaller of the pair, his wet nose brushing along the sole of Lyme's foot.

"Quay! That tickles!" The assassin giggled once more, accidentally snapping out her foot, and kicking the bear right in the face.

Tash seriously considered leaving the two of them. Alone. In the cold. With bears about to attack.