There was no good outcome to what she had done. A moment of blind rage over the 'target'. If it had been the typical, arrogant, perverse noble's son abusing his power, Ynsidia would have been more than happy to have summoned the Ink Giant and club fist beat him to death with a certain satisfaction. But no... The target was a child. A noble's child, and the noble himself was an honest, largely righteous man. No wonder why his fellow nobles wanted the pressure put on him, but killing his youngest child was a bit more than overkill. Ynsidia understood that killing was necessary, often filthy work, but left in a moral, or unprincipled back draft is what made you a true murderer. Regardless, she loosed the Ink Giant on the man who paid her, wrecking the front of his manor, killing several guards, and all but mutilating an entire stable of his prized horses before her Conjure was shot into oblivion by several volleys of bolts delivered by marksmen with crossbows. One little emotional indiscretion. She was allowed that. And it allowed her not to compromise one of her few principles. Don't target children. But now it put her squarely in the sights of Maddigan Dol Costa. An unforgiving man who wasn't about to forget what she did to his domicile, and thoroughbreds; he likely didn't care about the guards she smashed... Vel Anir was big enough to hide in, but not for long. As confident as she normally was with a full jar or pot of Ink, Ynsidia was well aware that the city itself was not her turf. She also didn't have any Ink handy to enchant a familiar out of. She had a Rapier, and a year's worth of dueling lessons. If she didn't leave town quick, she was a dead girl for sure. Threading her way through alleyways, some potato sacks cut, and cast loosely about her easily recognizable garments, Ynsidia sidled the walls of buildings and lurked about the refuse. If she survived the day, she would be bird free. The nobles wouldn't let Maddigan kill her as she was to be sent to the Blightlands on a fact finding mission about some 'misty fog bank' of peculiar qualities. They would call him off of her, but only with enough time for cooler heads to prevail, and Maddigan had to be brazier hot right now! She shifted mid step going around a corner, spinning about face drawing her sword at a sound of footfalls not her own. "Who's there?!"