<div class="floatleft">(https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/002/442/653/large/oscar-acosta-rivera-noir-elf.jpg?1461787851)</div><br/>"Dunno yet," he said in response to Arash's question. "But that seems like a question far more suitable for my future self to figure out."<br/><br/>So Arash was familiar with the Underdark. He couldn't help but to wonder what this aloof man of lofty ideals was doing in a place where 'lofty' was an alien concept. The thought of returning to the Underdark was not an appealing one. Ingram may not be a beloved pillar of Glen Avon society, but at least no one up in the clouds wished him pain, lots of it, doled out at a sluggish pace. The same couldn't be said for Calbriz and the enemies he had left there. If they could figure out this mess without stepping foot below, all the better for Ingram. Significantly better, in fact.<br/><br/>He was happy to hear Kirion's compromise, and even happier to hear Arash's concession. The priest was pissed, but at least he wouldn't make trouble. Kirion's hand fell onto Ingram's cheek. He looked into his dark, golden eyes as the elf gave him the benevolent warning. A thin shell of energy seemed to shake the air a millimeter from his skin, pulsing over his body with a tingling power. Ingram didn't come into contact with magic very often. When he had, it was generally the painful kind aimed at his vitals. But when experienced in this context, it was a strange but pleasant feeling. A sort of buzz. He had to be careful not to enjoy it too much - there was very little Ingram was capable of doing in healthy moderation. Except perhaps work.<br/><br/>He looked down and was shocked to see that there was no body where a body rightly ought to be. It was disorienting. He feared that he would do something clumsy just by losing track of an invisible limb. Ten minutes. And don't get caught. It shouldn't be so bad. He raised a silent hand in farewell to his two companions before remembering that they could not see it. He ignored the surreality of the circumstances, and focused on slipping across the room without trodding on anyone's toes. It wasn't terribly difficult. It was chaos, but it was predictable chaos. The vast majority of those around him shared a common goal - to get to the gate at the most expedient possible pace. He kept to the unpopulated areas, skirting toward the arches leading into the palace.<br/><br/>A pair of guards peeled away from the king, rushing inward, presumably in the direction of the prince. He rushed after them, slipping past the armed guard as she stepped aside for them to pass. He tried to keep in pace with them as they snaked through the halls, matching his footfalls to theirs to eliminate any unaccountable noise. In the tension and flurry of activity, they might either be alert for the smallest sign of danger, or be totally oblivious to anything other than their immediate goal. Either way, he didn't intend to get caught. Well, he didn't<em>intend</em>to get caught. But you know what they say about intentions.<br/><br/>He wondered what he would find in the princes quarters. He hoped he wouldn't come to regret ignoring Arash's advice.<br/>