[Fandaniel curls his fingers, ready to tear out the diseased fragment of soul he can feel in Douman but he grips only air.
He doesn't pause to look around, instead vanishing again in a swirl of shadows, narrowly avoiding the winding magical chains reaching up from below.]
My, what a boorish audience you are!
[He twirls in the air, facing in the direction of Douman's voice.]
What is that tired old phrase? One good turn deserves another?
[Fandaniel's robes flare and aetherial chains snake outward from within them. They wind rapidly through the air, dark as shadows but nowhere near as silent. With an audible, almost hungry rattle, they launch themselves at Douman.]
no subject
He doesn't pause to look around, instead vanishing again in a swirl of shadows, narrowly avoiding the winding magical chains reaching up from below.]
My, what a boorish audience you are!
[He twirls in the air, facing in the direction of Douman's voice.]
What is that tired old phrase? One good turn deserves another?
[Fandaniel's robes flare and aetherial chains snake outward from within them. They wind rapidly through the air, dark as shadows but nowhere near as silent. With an audible, almost hungry rattle, they launch themselves at Douman.]