Y'shtola Rhul [Blythe’s eyes widen as they take the full force of the spell right in their face. Tumbling back and screaming in agony] pua norvj! juq seti pua! daggit! soi! tur! pua qokk micit idveyi! [With each word a noxious wind passes, the halls shift. Sweeping Y’shtola away from Blythe]

[They’ve spirited Blythe away to a place far from the sickening light and so that they may heal.]

This is MOST unpleasant.

*A glance outside, quiet.* Oh my... is it already that time of year? *She pulls her coat over her figure and steps out—*

. . . *Y'shtola slowly pulls her hand over her face and clears her throat.* Erhem. *She leans over and pulls together a great amount of snow, inhaling before she FLINGS a ball back at Ryne.*

On the count of three, my dear. One… two…!

*SO MANY SNOWBALLS. Y'shtola is pelting them at Thancred.* THIS is for worrying your daughter and other half!!

NEVER. *Continued pelting.* Ryne! Press the assault! *MORE PELTING.*

... ...hm.

*THWACK.*

It's not bad when you're not DRUNK.

[The sorceress comes in, covered in snowflakes.] It's snowing.

[She shakes the snow off her clothing and sighs.] Already, and it's merely started. We're in for a long couple of days, my friend.

[[I do wonder how that strange blood knight is doing. His Aether was…]]

*Tea sip.* Ah yes. Speaking in that tongue.

["C'mon, Y'shtola, take a break!"] Something smells of revolution again. I'll let them enjoy the sights.

*Party pooper.*

dads not exactly a culinarian....

Yes, and we've survived several encounters with death. Ryne, sweetie, this is not news.