Recent content by Letta

Letta would have sworn on her life just to sate the worries of her new ally, but she did not. It felt too easy of a promise, that she was confident there would be no need to waste her words. "Leas?" She called out, her voice and even her expression turned to concern. "If you are taking care of...

Letta smiled and turned away. Glamour was a favourite way for the fae to hide behind, but it also created a large target for the Bloodhound to pin point. Perhaps their foe could see them, watch them, and that was why Leas parted ways. Divide and conquer. "Do me a favour, Alleria? Do not...

Letta narrowed her gaze. She did not take kindly to those that doubted her. In all her experience training at the War College, Letta had been met with plenty of oversight. Many did not think her strong enough to achieve the goals she had laid out for herself, nor did they have faith she could...

Letta arched a brow, the only indication she held some form of fascination to what Alleria had shared. "Ah." Came a soft acknowledgement. "I see then." Fortunate for all three of them that Letta had a good connection with her own ability and had trained for ways to continue tracking even...

Letta's mouth curved with amusement. "Rest assured, you will not need strength to overcome our enemy. Your purpose is to work in tandem with me, and I shall ensure your safety." "As will I." Leas gruffed, taking up the rear. Callistal led them, her eyes spying the traces of magic and her...

Perhaps it was reckless to enlist the help of someone that hated with a passion that came from a bad experience, but Letta was often fascinated by what drives someone. Of course, she would ask questions later to ascertain just why the fae warranted such animosity, and perhaps she would begin her...

Letta's brow arched with interest. Her smile curved at one corner, intrigued that they just happened upon this bard with such promise and determination to see the fae brought to justice. "Perhaps you may ask our fae prisoner that once we find them. We came here for a drink to give the poison...

Letta succeeded in schooling her expression, both at the instances that happened simultaneously. Firstly, the stranger made mention of a name Letta idolised throughout her education at the War College, and had been honoured to fight alongside Ruslan Gildal in the past few months. Secondly...

Leas laughed aloud, enough to earn him a rightful glare from the younger Praetor. It didn't shut him up, but Letta loosed a measured sigh and turned her gaze to the bard that murmured chilling words. "Forgive my associate on his overbearing voice, and airing out our business." Letta had no...

"I'm gonna get myself some grog." Muttered the half-orc at her side. She made no acknowledging remark or gesture as he peeled away. Letta seated herself at a table along the wall, leaning back into her seat as if the travel they endured had caused her great exhaustion. She lifted her head, dark...

Upon entering, Letta did not make her disappointment be known. No, her expression always looked like that. Unimpressed, unbothered, and unfeeling. She had a task, a simple one really, and would not be dissuaded from the course she had charted. Stepping into the inn announced her presence, and...

Letta had been so ready to agree to accompany Ruslan, but her breath caught. She hesitated, realising what he was asking of the three of them. She looked to the young Quaestor, wondering what Praetor he would make once he received his accolades. Would he brave his omens? Or perhaps Irene, whom...

Letta had been about to speak but Irene spoke the words and the young Praetor gave a small smile. There was no time for idle chit chat as Ruslan made his approach to them first. Letta bowed her head to him, still a sign of respect, but one not so formal as the Gildan salute she gave him earlier...

Letta allowed herself some satisfaction hearing Irene's praise, and her eyes flicked to Senjani, who appeared livid. "It was worth speaking up for what I believe in." She smiled, turning back to Irene and loosing the air in her lungs. She saw the Praetor leave after a large group lingered by...

Letta was glad her blade was not in hand at present. Praetor Senjani was one she never liked on the three separate occasions she had crossed paths with him before this day. The last had been at the Accolades, where he had been unimpressed with her performance and had made comment that Letta...