The rain pelted the window of the Storehouse, causing tiny rivlets of water to weave web like designs across the window's glass. The cool Verminasian rain outside, in an odd way, contrasted nicely with the fuming individual gazing out the window from inside. Lyan felt the blood in his veins literally boiling after his encounter with Lendach, Shalonesti's newer edition to the infernal Kyorl.

The stormy gray eyes of the Bladesinger lingered in his thoughts, both haunting and infuriating the Master of House Ka'vanth. The attack had been unlike any Lyan ever experienced. This Shalon did not banter with him like some idiot child, he had gone right for his juggular, or temple to be more precise. Apparently the backbone had begun to reassert itself as a valid organ among the Shalon defenders.

But this failed to anger him as much as his inability to change the situation. Lyan angrily punched the wall beside the window to vent. Somehow, the House had grown and matured. It was not a desperate group of Dark Kin blindly fighting the Shalon, something sinister had happened. Prominence. There were things to think about now besides the Shalon. Orders of restraint from Verminasian Advisors, the Dark Kin in the Ka'vanth, Ursah, his children ranked among the top in no particular order. Gritting his teeth, Lyan shook his head. He had ran and not out of fear but duty to others. With a sigh, Lyan leaned his heated brow against the cool glass and let out a tiny sigh of morning for the warrior part of his heart that was swiftly dying.