<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/Wxjr1KN.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Tyrel (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1716223)<br/><strong>Time of day:</strong>Mid-morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Castle Plaza,<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open,Alyssa, Freya<br/><strong>Notes:</strong><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Initiative roll</div><div class="spoiler_body">At 2018-10-09 11:43:33, isengrad (uid: 10132) rolls: 1d20a1 Result: 8 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=125254)</div></div><br/>When he heard Freya and her urging him to step back he could almost feel the blood start to boil, but he knew she was right, he was no fool. He could think this through logically, if he just ran in there all anyone in this town would see is an ungulus attacking a human woman, or standing up against a master disciplining her slave. They would make that judgement even before they knew the circumstances. Reluctantly the equine looked toward his employer, or his mistress as they presented themselves here, and saw the wisdom in her words. Though he had to swallow the bile that was rising in his throat over walking away from that he turned to shoulder his pack once more.<br/><br/>That is until he heard her call out for help, and the Equine froze in his tracks, the pack slipped from his fingers and his hands closed into large strong fists, a ripple of power covering them in an almost invisible force.<strong>"I am sorry Freya, but it's not in my nature."</strong>he turned back and struck his fists together, a spark of power when they struck together. Things had developed Quickly, as a plume of smoke had engulfed the mage, and it seemed more than just he had taken notice of this development. He raised his hands and let into the fray.