It had been a long day. Arriving back in Sigil so late was extremely displeasurable to the large Norseman. Fernoch had just returned from his kip and headed off in the direction of the Sensate Festhall. At least he hoped to find the one pleasurable thing to end his long tiring day. A smile crept across his chiselled features, as he thought of his red-haired tiefling. His weary step picked up a pace as he hurried on his way, hoping to arrive in time to see her dance.

It hadn't taken long for him to ask the right questions of the right people to know if she was back in town. He knew where she frequented, and the people who would know of her comings and goings. She could be evasive though. Somehow he managed to miss her last time she had come in from out-of-town. Oh well, he wouldn't this time, for sure.

Arriving at the Festhall he saw that the festivities were starting to slow down for the night, or at least as much as they ever do for the Sensates. She usually stayed pretty late, her endurance as a dancer only equalled by her endurance as a drinker.

The doorman recognized the fighter, "Hey Frank, how's your hammer hangin'?" Fernoch chuckled politely at this all to familiar remark, grasping the man's arm in a warriors handshake.

"Things are well, especially since I hear my favorite tiefling is in town. Is she still here, Trajan?" Fernoch asks, the hope evident in his tone.

Trajan pauses for a moment, trying to remember, "Oh yeah, I almost missed the little red head. She was hangin' with a couple of different cutters, one a very beautiful half-elven woman, the other definitely a minder. They left a few beats ago."

A frown plays upon the lips of Fernoch as he ponders what to do. "Which way did they head?" He asks determined.

The doorman smiles slyly holding out his hand. Fernoch all to quickly fills the man's palm with a couple of cage. "They headed through the Lower Ward up Cane Street. I heard somethin' about the Bottle and Jug. If you hurry, you should be able to catch 'em, they was leading the half-elf along, seeing as how she couldn't see." He laughs at his own word play.

Fernoch grasps Trajan's arm again, and he expresses his thanks, his excitement at hearing how close he is to them wiping out the crease of his frown.

He quickly makes his way up Cane Street, keeping his step as silent as his bulk permits, listening for sounds of the three. A short time passes before he hears a melodic singing echoing through the streets ahead, accompanied by the sound of laughter he knows well. Fernoch figures he can't be more than a block or two away from them, but his pace slackens as he hears another group, closer this time. He halts, listening. The sound of crossbows being pulled reaches him, the drop of a bolt into the slot, and the tension of silence before it is fired.

His ears strain waiting to hear if they will pass, or what they are intending. Fear grips him as he notices their postion is one to intercept his lady.

Fernoch decides to act, but is a moment to late, as he hears the thunk of strings being released and the faint whistle of the bolt homing in on its target. He gauges the number of attackers, circling in on their position, hammer in hand, waiting for them to reveal themselves from the shadows.

He hears the whispers of the victims, the minder evidently fighting off the first of the attacks successfully, but needing help soon. A flash of green flies into view, outlining the spellslinger who threw it. Fernoch lets his hammer fly, crying out to Thor to make his aim true. "BY THUNDER AND LIGHTENING, YOU WILL FALL!!!" His aim is true, finding its mark in the center of the mage's skull, the crash of thunder and the smell of ozone filling the air. The body falls with a smoking thud, the hammer returning to the proxy's hand. He charges into view, but suprised when he doesn't see his tiefling. Fernoch scans around worriedly, his face grim, waiting for the attackers to come into melee.

Rojas gets up, a little out of breath from the impact of the spell. Swan is cowering on her knees, doing her best to contain her fear, trying to locate Lilah, and finding her presence not far off to the right, registering... surprise? A new body is coming into the scene, one filled with a controlled rage, but not directed at them, but their attackers.

Rojas, draws himself into a defensive stance, wondering at the intent of the charging man, watching the stranger's eyes scanning the alleys. His ears pick up a cry of pain.

The tiefling was thrown off, missing her footing and breaking her silence as Fernoch ran on the scene. The assailant she was sneaking up on turned and saw her before she could react, firing a bolt into her shoulder. "AAAAAHH!... Grrr...." The burning sensation in her arm where the wound is telling her the weapon is poisoned. "You sodding berk... you can't put a tiefling in the dead book that easy!" She tumbles out into the street, quickly regaining her feet, and throwing two daggers into the chest of her attacker. "Taste that!..." The man falls grasping his chest, a purple phosphorous glow mixing with the red of his blood.

The group forms a defensive circle around Swan, waiting for the next two assailants to make their presence known. They hear a muffled voice in the expectant silence, "He said this was an easy mark... Pike this." Running footsteps echo the leaving of one of the attackers.

Fernoch flexes, readjusting his grip on the hammer. "Enemy... join your friend's retreat, or join your other friend's death!"

At this threat, the last of the attackers is heard fleeing, his final words echoing to the ears of the victorious, "Estavan sends his regards..."

For a moment, there is silence. Then - - -

"Roj. Roj. Lilah's hurt," says Swan.

The tiefling fighter relaxes his stance, and keeping a wary eye on Fernoch, glances at Lilah. A crossbow bolt protrudes from her left shoulder. Lilah is touching the haft, worrying over how much it is going to hurt to pull it out.

"I think it's poisoned," sighs Lilah.

"Addlecoved sods," hisses Rojas, dropping his pick to the street. He starts pulling off his black leather belt.

Fernoch is alarmed. He has not the means for a cure at hand, but he can wake some of the brothers at the Temple. He shoulders past Rojas and gently touches Lilah's wound. "My brothers will have you healed. Come and I will take you . . ."

"There's no time. She'll be dead a'fore you get to the bridges unless you've a gate in your pocket," snarls Rojas. "Move."

Swans sucks in a breath.

Fernoch reluctantly makes way. Rojas is all business. He tears off the sleeve of Lilah's dress and threads the belt through her armpit, tightening it rapidly.

"OOouch."

"Be gentle with her, tiefling," says Fernoch, obviously worried.

"Friend of yours?" Rojas whispers to Lilah as he slips his forefingers around the haft of the bolt.

"Umm hmm," Lilah says absently as she warily eyes Rojas' handiwork. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Let's hope so," he smiles. "Do you hear something?"

Lilah strains to listen, and while she is distracted, Rojas suddenly pulls out the shaft.

"YOOOUUCH. MMM. That hurt!"

"Don't be a child . . ." chides Rojas, pulling one of Lilah's daggers from her belt.

"I WARNED you!" growls Fernoch, "now stand aside!"

Rojas ignores the warning and makes an "X" incision on the wound. {It is not bleeding heavily. Mostly in the muscle. No effects yet . . . good, good}

Lilah closes her eyes and wishes for just a moment's peace so that Rojas can get about his work. "Fernoch, PLEASE, just let him finish. I am fine," {I think}.

Rojas pushes on the muscles and forces a bluish liquid out of the "X" with a pulse of blood. "Hah! It didn't take!" Fernoch relaxes slightly.

Swan lets go of Lilah's emotions for a moment, hoping that her minder knows how to handle this. She tentatively reaches out to Fernoch, notes his concern and familiarity with Lilah, but then is interrupted by another familiar pattern. Killraven?

Lilah starts fishing in her belt for the healing potion she carries. "Phew. Nice work Rojas. Glad ta know ya, even if you did put my favorite cover [dress] into the dead-book."

Fernoch is the first to see it -- a huge winged creature bearing down on them. It's wingspan must be six feet! With his keen eyes he can make out a thickly muscled torso and legs. A faint charnel smell carries to his hunter's nose. He cocks his hammer.

Swan picks up Fernoch's emotions. "NOOO! Don't . . ."

Lilah and Rojas look up quickly, but too late.

"BY THUNDER AND LIGHTNING, YOU WILL FALL!!!" And Fernoch's hammer speeds true.

"NO, NONNONONO NO!" screams Swan at the top of her lungs.

Lilah's jaw drops as she follows the trajectory of the deadly hammer. With a thunderous crash and the stench of ozone, it strikes the flying creature square in the chest. It is blown backward by the force of the blow, then drops like a stone, the body bouncing off of the gables of a building, through some razor vine, and then landing with a dull and final thud in the street about one hundred yards ahead of them.

The hammer returns to Fernoch's hand. It was a fine throw! The crazed half-elf woman apparently does not appreciate his aim, as she tears past him to the fallen form.

She trips on the greasy cobbles of the street and falls hard on her knees and palms. She starts crying hysterically.

Fernoch seems confused. He looks to his tiefling, and her expression chills him to the marrow. "Lilah?" {Is she poisoned?]

Lilah's heart is in her throat. She drops the empty healing potion to the ground. She does not have another. She takes a couple of steps but she is too woozy to run. She pushes Rojas.

Rojas surveys the situation and starts to walk toward the body.

"Run, you sod! See if you can help him!" snarls Lilah.

Rojas takes a few half-hearted jogs toward the body, then slows.

Swan stops sobbing and bites the back of her hand, blindly turning her head from side to side.

Slowly, Killraven gets to his feet, having regained his wind. His body hurts everywhere, and he suspects several ribs are broken and maybe a lung punctured. His breastplate is dented right at its center and pushes painfully on his chest. He pulls off his mask and draws a ragged breath, grits his teeth, and pulls his sword.

Fernoch stares in disbelief. Either his aim was off (it wasn't) or this creature was no mere mortal planar. This suspicion is confirmed as Fernoch realizes that the winged monster now has arms, a skeletal head, and Tanar'ri red steel.

"TANAR'RI! HAVE YOU A TASTE FOR MORE OF THE MIGHT OF THOR! THIS TIME YOU WILL NOT WALK AWAY . . ." he again raises his hammer.

"DON"T YOU DO IT FERNOCH! DON"T YOU KILL HIM!!" Lilah screams at the top of her lungs. She wraps her arms around his bicep and dangles there like an ornament. "You'll answer to ME if you DO!" Try as she might, Lilah cannot keep the panicky edge out of her voice.

Killraven sees Lilah struggling with the mighty warrior. He shouldn't be breathing, much less walking. But he is a mul, and that is Lilah. He runs, raising his sword for a strike.

Lilah starts to panic. "Please, PLEASE, FERNOCH, listen to meeeee. He is my friend!"

Fernoch hears her, but the monster is charging them. There is no way this thing could be a friend. He shakes Lilah loose like a leaf from an autumn tree. The monster is too close for a hammer throw now, so he grasps the hilt in both hand and prepares for close combat. He still cannot believe the thing is alive, but he will worry about its regenerative powers after its head is safely staved in . . .

Swan feels the determination in Killraven's mind and knows he will be dead in moments. In a flash of clarity, she cries out, "ROJAS!"

Rojas had been content to let the comedy unfold to its tragic conclusion. He respected the gladiator, but he would not be sorry to see him in the dead-book. He cannot ignore Swan's plea. With a sigh of resignation, he dips and sweeps his foot under the charging gladiator, sending him to the cobbles at Fernoch's feet.

Anger wells up inside the tiefling, overwhelming her fear and self-preservation. She watches the form of her friend strike the street, skidding to a stop before the feet of Fernoch. Reacting quickly, as she sees the hammer raise to strike, she dives on top of the fallen gladiator, using her own body to shield Killraven from the impending blow. Her muscles tense up in anticipation of the strike, and she cries out, hoping Fernoch can stop in time, "STOP!!!!"

Swan, open to the emotions of those around her, senses the switch from determination to surprise as she hears the soft thud of a lighter body land on top of what only could be Killraven. She reaches out with her feelings and voice worriedly trying to determine what is happening, "Rojas?.."

Rojas stands impassively, playing his part in attempting to stop Killraven's demise, hoping that will be enough to convince Swan he did everything he could. He watches in amazement as Lilah leaps onto Killraven, attempting to protect him from the hammer of Fernoch. The hammer starts to fall with the full force of a trained warrior behind it, the only sounds the crackle of thunder and the word of the female tiefling.

The weight of his hammer shifts, as he begins his downward swing to crush the skull of the attacking fiend. There is only a quick movement to his side and now his target changes from the fiend to... Lilah?!? He hears her voice ring out, and the muscles in his forearms strain to pull back on the blow, to change the direction of the force.

All Lilah hears is the swish of a hammer, too close to her head, soon followed by the sound of breath being let out, her own. Her heart feels like it is going to explode in her chest, and she feels faint as she rolls off, and is partially pushed off as she and the gladiator begin the motions to stand. She keeps herself between the two men, hoping that the diversion will allow her time to reason with them. Fernoch stands before her, a mask of anger, muttering harsh words in an unknown language that she can only interpret to be curses. She feels the imposing presence of Killraven standing behind her breathing heavily, the sound of steel dragging along the stones of the street as he raises his sword for defense.

Fernoch still holding his hammer in front of him, ready to strike if necessary, finally composes himself enough to question the tiefling. "What in the name of Thor are you doing? Get out of the way and let this be finished." He is watching the man behind her, an impressive foe to say the least.

Blood pools in the mouth of the gladiator, his breath ragged and painful. Had Lilah just saved him? Why did she risk herself and get between us? Why did he not strike her? The questions form in his mind as he stares past the small woman in front of him, waiting for his opponent to move. The words come out in a gasp, "Did he hurt you, Lilah?"

Swan begins weeping, the tension of the people around her overwhelming her defenses. A comforting hand is laid on her shoulder, as Rojas stands next to her awaiting the outcome of the confrontation, hoping they would hurry before the Hardheads decided the battle in the market was not as important as the situation here.

Lilah on the spot, drawing on whatever courage she can muster, suddenly finding her mouth very dry and her thoughts jumbled as she stands between the two men closest to her heart. "Stop this!...", she manages utter. "No, more fighting you sodding berks!" She notices Fernoch's arms begin to relax as he hears her words. "The bashers who attacked are gone, the others in the dead-book." She watches as Fernoch lowers his hammer, her words and the question the gladiator asked, finally sinking in to his thick skull.

Swan feels the heavy emotions lessen, the weight on her mind growing easier to bear. Lilah somehow was diffusing the situation. She reaches out for the tiefling's mind, finding anger and fear mixed in with overwhelming relief. The tears cease, as she feels Rojas grabbing onto her to help her stand. "Lilah?..." she calls out hesistantly, hoping to further draw attention from the still touchy situation. "Can we go now? I think I would like to call it a night." She manages a smile, aimed for once right at the person she addresses. The tiefling's emotions making her easy to pinpoint among the group. Curious about how her feelingss mix for the two she stands between...

Rojas, finally realizing the conflict is over, decides to let cooler heads prevail, mainly his. "Alright cutters, let's vacate before the Hardheads decide we look more inviting." His gaze shifts between the three before him, part of him regretting things didn't turn out differently.

The mul's head spins, his one eye finding it hard to focus. Watching and listening in those few tense moments, he realizes the situation was a mistake, and he won't have to kill this man. Lilah is trying to protect this Fernoch, as well as himself. What does this mean? He replaces his sword in the scabbard on his back, the motion almost unbalancing him.

Lilah turns so that her sight includes both men, as well as Swan and Rojas. "You heard the minder, let's bolt before we get scragged." She makes one quick glance between the two before relinqueshing her position between them, making sure they aren't going to freak again and charge each other. Satisfied, she runs over and quickly pulls her daggers from the fallen assailant's chest, then deftly draws a large swipe across his throat. As she wipes the remnants of the blood and poison from the daggers, she grabs the personal items from his body. "You owe me a dress berk", she mutters to herself. Lilah looks back at the group and calls out to them, "I'll be back in a twitch, I have to collect what's due."

She stands and heads off into the shadows, glancing at the group in the middle who apparently are still sizing each other up. Her thoughts start to dwell on the preceding events, fear gripping her briefly as she wonders what in Baator she was thinking when she stood up to that basher, then acted even barmier by throwing herself in between Fernoch and Killraven. I MUST be going barmy from all that time spent wandering around the Hive. Listening to the group impatiently awaiting her return, her thoughts wander to the two men who caused this whole thing. How in Bast's name am I going to explain everything to these two thick-headed sods. Finding the bodies she is looking for, she quickly grabs what she can, and heads back.

Rojas looks around nervously, listening for the telltale boots of the Harmonium. He hears patrols in the vicinity but it all sounds like they are going to check out the riot. He feels the tension in Swan's grip, but her hand on his arm comforts him. The minder had done his job, Swan was safe. He suppresses the memories of the events which threaten to bring the fear for her safety back into the pit of his stomach. Instead he focuses on the two warriors in front of him. Watching the all too familiar sizing up of an adversary interchange. It brings a smug grin to his face, glad he is not a part of it, but instead holding on to the one thing he values above life itself...

The gladiator spits the gathering blood from his mouth on the street. A sharp pain stabs in his chest as he takes a deep breath. It was a close call this time, and all for naught, apparently. What was taking Lilah so long? He knew that he needed the help of Valas soon, and that he wouldn't be able to get there on his own.

Fernoch watched as the warrior before him labored to remain standing. How could his Lilah befriend such as this? He would have to talk with her, to find out the whole story, but for now he could be patient. She said to wait, and he will. For now.

The half-elf exhausted from the torrent of emotions which flooded her senses not too long ago wanted to withdraw from the group, to regain her strength and composure. Her worry for the health of Killraven kept her focus though, his pain hanging on the edges of her mind. What is taking Lilah so long? She reached out once more, trying to locate the tiefling, finding her growing closer, her confusion of feelings pinpointing her location. Soon she is standing amongst them, her words reaching Swan's ears.

"Let's go. I have what I need." Lilah voices tiredly. The rush had worn off, and now the throbbing from a wound not completely healed was all that remained. She glances once at Fernoch, then sidles up next to Killraven, draping his arm over her shoulders giving him support to walk. She looks back at the Norseman again, raising her eyebrow imploringly.

Fernoch hesitates a moment, but then hanging his hammer from his belt, moves to Killraven's other side, taking the weight from Lilah.

The minder starts off with Swan, in the direction of home, when Lilah stops him. "Rojas, no... head for my kip, she'll be safer there. I can help Killraven once we get there also."

The group cautiously walked the streets of Sigil in silence, buying themselves the breaks they needed from Harmonium patrols with advance warnings from Rojas and Swan. Going was slow, having to practically carry the massive bulk of Killraven the entire way, the gladiator passing in and out of consciousness.

Lilah was thankful that Fernoch had come around when he did. She was not looking forward to the questions she knew were coming as soon as they got to their destination, but thankfully she had time to form up her answers on the way back. The only problem being there were no answers coming to mind, only her own questions. How did he know to show up there and then, why did Estefan send his bashers to make a hit on Swan, Rojas, and herself, and how in the name of Bast was she going to make sense enough of her own feelings to satisfy both of these men? She trudged along, the weight of Killraven weighing on her shoulders as heavily as her thoughts weighed on her mind.

Soon the bazaar came into sight, the Indep safehouse in Sigil. The group made a strange sight, drawing a few stares as they headed through the streets to Lilah's kip.

As they entered the inn, the tension noticeably lifted from the companions. Swan reached out, drawing in the relief of her friends, soothing her own raw nerves. She heard Lilah walk over to the bar and quietly speak to the tender, the sound of jink being set on the counter informing her their presence there was now safely insured. Lilah returned to the group giving them direction to follow her.

She led them up the stairs to her room. Rojas watched her impatiently as she looked over the edges of the door, apparently checking for signs of unwanted entry. When she seemed satisfied, she opened the door and allowed them to enter.

Fernoch made his way over to the bed, setting his burden down gently, then moving to a watchful position near the door. He watched as the minder guided his charge to a chair, carefully placing her in it. The Norseman could see the concern play on the minder's face when he helped the woman. It was clear to him Rojas cared for Swan more than he should. There were a lot of strange things going on between the companions here, he decided. He would have to question Lilah about it when they were alone.

Fernoch's attention fell on Lilah. Once they had all entered the room, she had quickly locked the door and been busy fussing with her belongings she kept here. Removing her jacket, he saw the wound in her shoulder plainly. She was clearly favoring that arm, the potion she drank not able to remove all of the effects of the wound. Her tail twitched frustratedly as she delved in her pack, finally locating the vials she was looking for. "Ah, here they are..." she says aloud.

Swan looked up in the direction of Lilah's voice, the look of worry still clinging to her face. "Lilah? What are you going to do?"

Lilah addressed her as she walked over to where the unconscious form of Killraven lay. "I've got some potions that will heal Killraven a bit, or at least take the edge off until I can get Va.. I mean Oberon here." She unstoppered one of the vials, but hesistated before giving it to Killraven, a look of indecision on her face. "Um... Swan, come over to the bed." A look of confusion crosses Swan's features, but she has Rojas help her up and over to the bed. Rojas' eyes narrow, starting to catch on to what the red-haired tiefling had in mind. Lilah puts the vial in Swan's hand. "Here, you give this to Killraven." Lilah still looks indecisive, but continues on. "I am going to go get Oberon." She looks around at those gathered, dreading the right decision of who to take. "Rojas will guard the room, Fernoch will be my minder."

Swan looks elated, but quickly suppresses her smile, realizing what Lilah is doing. The tiefling, still holding an identical vial to the one in Swan's hand, looks at it, then hands that one to the half-elf also. "Give him this one in about half an hour or so, no sooner." Lilah feels the knots forming in her stomach, wanting to make sure Killraven is okay herself, wanting to be the one there sitting over him when he wakes up, but knowing someone has to get Valas, and that Swan needs this chance, forget about what she wants for now.

She quickly strips off the remainder of her dress while walking over to her dressing area. She feels the eyes of Fernoch and Rojas linger over her, and decides to prudently step behind the screen to finish clothing herself. When Lilah reaches out to grab her bodysuit lying on the chair next to the screen, she spots Fernoch staring at her, a sly smile playing on his lips. The tiefling quickly retreats behind the screen again, hiding her grin until his eyes can no longer see her. Maybe she is doing the right thing, Fernoch is a good catch, he definitely desires her, but why is she not sure about it, why is she in such a hurry to make sure Killraven is fine.

When she steps out from behind the screen she is fully attired in tight black. Grabbing her jacket and cloak off the hooks by the door, she dons them, then looks one last time at the form on the bed.

Swan has not given Killraven the potion yet, apparently waiting for Lilah to leave to make sure he is focused only on herself. Maybe it is for the better...

"Come on Fernoch, we should hurry." Lilah slips out the door closely followed by the proxy.

Swan feels Lilah's presence leave the inn, then returns her attention to the injured form of Killraven. She opens the first vial Lilah handed her, a strong smell resembling nutmeg filling her nose. Reaching forward with her other hand, she locates Killravens mouth, then proceeds to pour in the potion. His breathing starts to become less labored, as his eye flutters open. Swan senses him awakening, feeling the confusion at first followed by recognition. Her hands are on his chest, and she feels him start to sit up. "No, don't... rest." He could easily push her out of the way, but doesn't, and instead lays back heavily on the bed, his head throbbing.

He takes several deep breaths, the pain diminished from earlier. "Where's Lilah?" Killraven asks.

A smile spreads across Rojas's face at hearing these words. Maybe now Swan will realize Killraven doesn't want her. From his vantage point seated by the door, he watches with frustration, noticing after his initial happiness of hearing the gladiator's words, the crushing effect they had on his charge.

Swan starts to grow angry, but stops, knowing that anger won't help her, but patience and time will. "She left with Fernoch." Before continuing, she lets her senses register Killraven's reactions to the comment. Good, it had the proper reaction. "They went to get Oberon." Her senses register a bit of relief at hearing these words, but the underlying jealousy is still present. Now to remind him of who is here still, "Just rest now Killraven, I will watch over you." She smiles feeling his tension relax as he gives in to her words.

Lilah was walking ahead of the warrior, her cloak drawn around her tightly, covering her form in shadow. She claimed that they needed to move quickly and quietly through Sigil, hoping these words would keep Fernoch from asking too many questions that she was not ready to answer. The knot in her stomach remained, although she was able to forget about it easier being away from the source. Her hopes of complete quiet are soon crushed as she realizes the proxy has moved up quickly to her side, and is staring at her as they walk. She cringes, knowing when she catches his eye, he will begin questioning her. Well, no use avoiding the inevitable...

Fernoch finally catches her eye, glad that she chose to have this time alone with him so he could ask her of her friends. He inhales deeply preparing to speak to her, "Lilah..." She cringes as his booming voice breaks the pregnant silence. He realizes his volume may be a bit high considering the secretness of their journey and tones it down. "Why do you wish such a man to be your friend?"

He always gets to the point when she most wants him to be obscure. Lilah's brow furrows contemplating how to answer, a bit angry at the condescension in his words. "Why? Oh, Fernoch, what kind of a question is that?" She hopes her tone will change the subject, but he just stares at her, familiar with her tactics. His imposing silence as they walk, his eyes burning into her, break her resistance down, "Oh, okay... because... because he is." She looks puzzled as for the first time she is questioning why she has this friendship. "I care about him, Fernoch. He has saved me from getting put in the dead-book more times than I can count, and in a weird way, I like his gruffness, and straitforwardness, and that cute little way he... oh nevermind that." She looks into Fernoch's eyes, hoping somehow that he would understand their relationship, although she herself didn't completely.

Lilah's answers although confusing, were enough, but something gnawed at the back of his mind, something he couldn't put his finger on, but nevermind that, she chose to leave Killraven there, and walk with him. Her feelings for himself were clear. Fernoch nodded in satisfaction. "Then if you wish him as your friend, I will honor that." The grin which illuminated Lilah's features warmed him. He was with his little red-haired tiefling, and she was safe with him.

The silence resumed, and after a short while they came to the Shattered Temple, their destination.