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A gruff chuckle rumbled from the assassin's throat. He recoiled his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes were narrowed and gleaming curiously. Who was this newcomer that had so many questions? Probably a friend of Wolfrun, looking at his age... His onyx eyes traced down to his crossed arms, and he cleared his throat to speak. "Well I was raised here. My father was a wood elf." His eyes traced slowly back to Jas's face. "But what about you? Are you here to see Li?"
In her fury Chani had not realized that anybody was following her. She nimbly traced through the short rows of tombstones, knowing every raised root and insect nest in the place. She'd been here too often. She found her way to the exact spot she wanted, and cried out in mixed sadness and agony. "Nightblade!" She commanded, her voice quivering. "You coward! Come out!"
A black figure swooped stealthily from the trees and landed in front of Deiter in a crouch. The ghostly, cloaked apparation of Cyrus Nightblade stood and faced the half-elf. He could hear Chani turn around quickly. He smirked, still watching Deiter rather creepily. "I'm right here Chani, do not fret." He scoffed, then craned his neck to look at his living daughter. "My he is a nosey one, isn't he?" The ghost lowered his hood and turned back to Deiter, the scythe on his cheek glowing the brown of dried blood.
Chani quickly dashed from the stone, almost floating with her exactness of step. She rushed to Deiter, pivoting to face Cyrus while stepping backward and pushing Deiter back a few steps as if trying to shield him. She demanded of her ghostly father. "Nightblade, what did you do to her?!"
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