Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 18 May 2005 |
| Who: | Edward, Kacela, Nicodemus, Uzal |
| What: | Edward tracks down a demon for a duel to the bitter end. |
Hill Country - Texas
With long stretches of road weaving through stream-fed hills, there's plenty of time to chat in between any of the three dozen small communities that litter the hill country of Texas. The occasional peach and apple stand can be found interspersed with towering oak and cypress trees filled with the song of the mockingbird. The many rivers give it a surprising lushness compared to the conventional portrayal of Texas as arid land, with pleasant beds and breakfast, resorts, and cabins available for tourists. Wide fields dotted with wildflowers, the bluebonnet included, are plentiful here, as well as solitude, for those seeking it.
Edward pulls up in his car, a sporty little Toyota, and steps out. Clearly he's here to get a lay of the land before the battle.
The address that was on the pamphlet that Edward had tossed at him does indeed appear to be a haven for outdoor enthusiasts. The golf lanes are tilled, the waterways filled with powerboats, and even riding trails. However, Nicholas Lyman the Fourth is nowhere to be seen, as of yet. The time hadn't arrived quite yet, of course. The only suspicious activity anywhere is in fact a lack of it. While the clay pigeon firing ranges are open, those for handgun and long-distance rifles are sparsely populated, as if the areas had been reserved, likely at a hefty price, for the evening. Clad in decidedly much less formal attire than usual, Kacela herself is indeed at one of the shooting stalls, complete amber eyeshields and ear protection. Her stance as she fires off a few rounds is formal, indicating a good amount of training. Certainly not the haphazard, gang-banger attitude towards the weapon that most would see or expect from the streets of East Austin.
Edward leans against his car for a few moments, just looking around at the place. He frowns as he notes all the people out enjoying the evening. The sound of gunfire draws his attention and his eyes narrow as he spots Kacela, but no Nicholas. He pops the trunk of his car and pulls out a large bag, slinging it over his shoulder he makes his way to the gun range, where he watches Kacela for a moment.
Roll by Kacela: (5) (3) (3)
Kacela lowers the pistol, and shifts weight on her feet, allowing the rack and the hole-riddled sheet to slide forward from the 50 foot mark. Placing one hand on her left hip, she gives a long drawn out sigh, sounding almost bored. The marks are mediocre, with about one out of eleven holes within the area that would indicate a heart shot. Theories abound: she's not that good, she's not being serious, she's distracted, she's bored, she doesn't have anyone to show off for. She snags the sheet off the clips, and then sets another one up, allowing the target to slide back into position.
Edward watches silently for a moment, his hands twitching slightly as if he's restraining himself from doing something. Finally he says, "You seem to be an decent shot."
Roll by Kacela: (2) (3) (6)
Turning around to regard the voice that rises behind her, Kacela ahs quietly, thin eyebrows arching. A mild glance is cast down to the duffle bag, although she seems polite enough to ignore the faint flexing of knuckles. "You're early," she finally says, before asking, "What's in that thing, anyway? Your date? Looks heavy." She pops the cartridge off the Glock 19 in her grip, before locking another in place, taking the extra moments before to place that extra round in the chamber itself. Turning to address the target now the same distance away, it appears that she's gotten her range -- or has decided to perform properly, now that another's eyes were upon her. She unloads the clip, the orange-yellow flash and the tinkle of casings hitting the ground by the wide stance of her feet. Every single last bullet is used. When she slaps the target return toggle, the sunlit background is visible in the extensive damage to the head killshot area. Five of the holes appear to make a small x shape, followed by a level x shape on the right for a total of ten. A frown to complete the face of the dead is etched out with the remaining nine rounds, tears in the material where the rounds had entered so closely to each other.
Edward claps slowly "Well done." He ignores the question about his duffle bag and glances around again "So, where's your boss? Did he wimp out, leaving you to hold the bag for him?" He smiles, showing a few teeth "It wouldn't surprise me in the least."
Kacela crosses her arms over her chest, scowling at him for a good long moment. Pursing her lips, it's likely she's holding back the first comment that comes to mind. The glint is still there in her eyes, though, as she says pointedly. "The only reason that Nicholas would be absent would be if he found a larger fish in the ocean to amuse him." She stalks over to the supply counter, and rams in another clip, before slipping the weapon back into her shoulder holster. Resting shoulders against the doorjamb, she shakes her head. "Ain't no bag-holding either. I would have run over your ass last night the way you were talking. A deal with a demon is no deal at all. But when it comes to fights?" Kacela flashes a grin, and shrugs as she holds hand in the air, as if she were giving Edward the greatest gift in the world. "That's something to be respected."
Edward smiles pleasantly "Oh yes, I know full well that a deal with a demon is no deal at all. But yes, a fight is to be respected." He pauses for a moment and then asks, "Why here do you know? Why not somewhere more private? There are to many people about to see us attacking each other."
Smug amusement interrupts Kacela before she can offer an answer, "Oh, we won't be interrupted, I can assure you." These confident words preceding his appearance, Nicholas Lyman saunters into view, having obviously come from the clubhouse, the remains of a Cuban cigar in his left hand. Still, what is held tightly in the right is likely to be of more interest, particularly to Edward...the Berretta 9mm prepared for Lyman's visit to the country club. "We have the shooting range for the evening," Lyman explains, before his words centre in on Edward. As they do, his voice adopts something both fierce and sarcastic, "I honestly didn't expect to see you this evening. I thought you wouldn't be so foolish to attend. Oh well. I really won't complain." Lyman comes alongside his partner, dressed in loose fitting white pants, sandals, and a white polo shirt. Evidently, he doesn't mean to get dirty.
Edward looks thoughtfully down at the gun held in Lyman's hand "Interesting, but I should have guessed." Looking around he notes their privacy and shrugs and bends down, unzipping his duffle bag that lies at his feet. Reaching with in he pulls out a pistol in one hand and an axe in another. Taking one large step forward he swings the axe at Lyman's head.
Kacela turns back to regard the frown face and little X's for eyes that she's managed to put in the paper target's equivalent of a face, sagging on its clips at the closest corner of the stall. "How quaint, you two said the same thing about each other," she purrs out, before snatching off the target paper. At the sound of the zipper, she turns, and is almost midway to a compliment on the sheen of oil on the metal surfaces -- before it becomes apparent that the weapon was slashing toward Nicodemus's neck. "Didn't waste any time."
Roll by Edward: (1) (2) (1)
Roll by Nicodemus: (5) (1) (3)
"An axe," Lyman rumbles darkly, as he assesses Edwards weapon selection, "You know, I don't care for them." Content to make this idle chit chat, he makes no attempt to flee his opponent's blade. Instead, the business owner does something very foolish, dropping the cigar and using his hand to intercept the axe. A deep laceration into his palm, along with a squishing sound followed by dripping blood, is the end result of this. Still, it does prevent the blade from ever reaching Lyman's neck...and fortunately, he does not seem to care much about Edwards drawing first blood. The appearance of the axe is what has him smoldering. "No. Not my favourite weapon. So messy" Lyman sneers, as the bloodied hand snakes down to get a grip on the axes handle...just as the other rises, leveling the pistol at Edward's chest. "You're an angel. I know this," Lyman continues, the words triggering his weapon, "But, other than that, you're a mystery...and I prefer to know who I'm killing." Unfortunately, the 9mm goes on longer than its owner, discharging a series of rounds.
Roll by Micodemus: (3) (2) (4)
Roll by Edward: (1) (1) (1)
Edward's axe, after he swings, gets brought back into the path of the bullets. Given the way Axes are made, they're tough, and very durable. This makes for a great ricochet device. The bullets that are fired bounce right off the axe, Edward being /lucky/ in having the axe where it was when it was and lucky enough to keep it in the path of the bullets. The bullets bounce right back toward Nico, hitting him several times repeatedly. One in the cheek/mouth.
The clash of weaponry causes Kacela to tense up, a faintly lurid, bloodthirsty sheen starting to well up in those dark brown eyes. Knuckles flex slightly, but she holds her ground. At the unwitting parry from Edward, she breathes out an "Oh god," rolling eyes at the lack of finesse shown by either party thus far, caring not one whit about how she'd react under similar circumstances.
Edward starts to try to dodge out of the way of the oncoming bullets, knowing that it's probably useless and he's going to get hit. His axe seems to glint in the fading sunlight for a moment as he brings it around to prepare for his next strike. Just then the bullets strike it, one by one, singing out almost musically as they bounce off the blade and strike Nicholas. Edward looks slightly astonished at this, but shoots a quick look upwards towards the sky and whispers a quick prayer of thanks. Done with that he darts forward sending his axe crashing toward Nicholas's chest.
Roll by Edward: (3) (1) (5)
Roll by Nicodemus: (4) (3) (2)
It all happens so quickly that Lyman doesn't even catch the intricate motions of the axe. One moment, he is working through his first magazine. The next, he finds his own bullets reflected back at him. The first two bury themselves in Lyman's chest, while the last to ricochet has the nerve to cut across his face, leaving a line of blood flush with his cheekbone. As it begins to ooze a single red tear, Lyman looks wide-eyed to his pistol, perhaps suspecting it of betrayal. Of course, stunned by this strange turn of events, the already wounded man is standing still for further punishment. Coming to, Lyman leaps back into a defensive position...and finds his polo shirt torn and sullied in the chest region. "You didn't answer me. I want details!" Lyman hisses with sharp frustration. To encourage Edward to give up his identity, he raises the Berretta angrily and discharges the remaining three rounds. Whether or not he succeeds, this is Lyman's last experiment with his pistol for now...especially, if bullets are sent back his way. Whatever the outcome, he tucks the weapon into a side holster, hoping to get a chance to rip the axe out of Edward's hand.
Roll by Nicodemus: (4) (6) (1)
Edward mutters a curse as he sees Lyman still standing and even able to shoot at him again. He takes a step backward and ducks, hearing the bullets zip past him, too close for comfort. The Kevlar he wears under his shirt makes ducking awkward and it takes him a moment to straighten up again once all the bullets have flow past him. He gasps out "What exactly did you want to know Serpent?" He takes a few steps to the side, readjusting his grip on the axe and looks Nicholas in the eye for a moment before swinging at his knee.
Roll by Edward: (4) (4) (6)
Roll by Nicodemus: (2) (6) (4)
Kacela paces, out of the reach of flailing weapons and occasional bullets. She doesn't look too pleased at all with the current situation, and pulls a nail file out of one pocket, flipping the light, pointed piece of metal in her hand.
Kacela is still looking quite sour, not enjoying the current outcome of the clash between the two in front of her in the reserved firing range area of the country club. At the moment, two male figures are struggling, putting them in the way of anyone who was likely attempting legitimate firearms practice. From time to time, her braids rustle along her shoulders as she swivels her head around to ensure that there are no descending hordes upon this one on one conflict. From time to time, she clenches her jaw, seeking to maintain the loopy sense of honor that most Baalites have when it comes to RSVP'ing duels.
The axe comes down and hits its mark, actually sticking into Lyman's leg. Brought down by the pain, the man falls to his good leg while the other is held up awkwardly by the blade. To protect himself during these precious moments, Lyman raises his hands over his head futility. But, he is no fool. He doesn't rely on flesh alone...at least, not human flesh. Snarling at the symphony with a furious song, Lyman attempts to arm himself deadly wings and talons. Whether or not the symphony gives into these demands, Lyman leaps to his feet, swinging at Edward with whatever he has at his disposal. This could mean balled fists...or six inch claws!
Roll by Nicodemus: (6) (3) (1)
Roll by Nicodemus: (2) (1) (1)
Edward hears the ringing of the Symphony as Nicholas Sings and sees the claws sprout. He swears softly and tries to lunge out of the way of the demon's hands, ducking down low as he pulls his axe free of Nicolas's leg.
Roll by Edward: (6) (2) (6)
Edward can't help but swear as the claws score a direct hit, sinking deeply into his chest. Blood stains his shirt as he moves backwards. He touches the blood and then looks up with a grin "I was wondering when this was going to get interesting. It's about time." Drawing his axe back, he swings it hard toward Nicholas's collarbone.
Roll by Edward: (1) (6) (3)
Roll by Nicodemus: (3) (6) (2)
Again, Lyman uses an odd strategy, actually allowing Edward to sink the axe into his shoulder. Once the weapon is firmly in place, and his blood leaking down his torso, he has Edward right where he wants him. "Oh yes. The chit chat," Lyman snarls deeply, his voice, some how, more potent now that the song of Numinous Corpus has been invoked. At that, both sets of talons strike out, the first hoping to steady Edward by clutching at his throat, while the other clawed hand aligns and dives at the mans abdomen. Lyman doesn't mean to stop if he hits bone.
Temptation rings louder, more sharply, and more closely, pressing against Kacela's consciousness like the insistent coursing of bloodmusic. The woman kneels, resting elbows on forearms, lacing fingers together. It's an awkward pose, intentionally done to quell her urge to spring forward. The most obvious reason was of course that the man was assaulting her associate, but another reason wraps its siren song around her thoughts -- this one was a truly worthy opponent, one she wouldn't mind squaring off with herself. She bats her eyes a few times at the meaty thunk of axe grinding through flesh and bone. "Just don't lose another arm," she breathes out.
Roll by Nicodemus: (2) (2) (2)
Roll by Edward: (1) (3) (3)
Once his claws sink in, Lyman growls, "How about a name? Maybe even the puppet you serve..."
Edward throws his head back, a gasp of pain escaping from his lips as he throws himself backwards, trying to escape the claws that dig deep into his gut. He stumbles and falls to his knees for a moment but then quickly lifts himself to his feet, blood flowing freely now. He looks at the edge of his axe, dripping with Nicholas's blood and reaches out, gently running his finger along it. He brings the finger to his mouth, licking the Balseraph's blood from the digit and grins "Nice move, serpent." He chuckles at the questions "I'm using an axe, doesn't that mean anything to you Serpent? Think, who else uses an axe in Heaven?" Then throws himself toward Lyman, axe flashing down towards his arm.
Roll by Edward: (3) (6) (6)
"Just checking," Lyman says, gracefully dropping in a ready stance across from his opponent, leathery wings spreading out behind him. Once settled, he reflects the grin with a wicked smirk, his expression going just that much farther than Edwards, "I didn't want to celebrate the death of another of Tyrr's comrades prematurely. That is just bad form." These words take Lyman to the very moment that Edward is open him again, the axe falling with yet another stroke. But, this is where it ends, Lyman decides, laughing snidely to the symphony, as if it shared in his own arrogant observations. A claw hand launches up, catching Edwards hand so that the axe can go no further. That free set of talon fingers follow up, hoping to take of Edward's arm at the shoulder. As he does so, he snarls, "So. How is Kurgan these days? Been to Heaven recently?"
Roll by Nicodemus: (4) (4) (1)
Roll by Edward: (6) (2) (4)
Edward swears as the claws dig deep into his arm. Still caught by them he swings his axe one handing, hoping to slam the blade into Lyman's ribs.
Roll by Edward: (3) (2) (6)
Roll by Nicodemus: (4) (1) (5)
Kacela rocks back and forth on her heels, interest once again returning as it seems that the tide of battle swings in Nicholas's favor. She has the sense to not say anything, lest she distract. Perhaps to calm herself, she removes the cartridge from the stock of her favored handgun, and slides off the stock as well, beginning the process of cleaning it. Given that it's a Glock, with about half the number of most other comparable handguns, this may not take as long as she had hoped.
With the combatants tangled up, their blows are landing far more easily now. Edward's axe renews its relationship with Lyman's torso, this time sticking lower in his abdomen. The white polo shirt is quite thoroughly ruined. In retaliation, the demon, with his claws embedded in his enemy, has them travel down, closer to Edward's vital organs. No matter the resistance from the muscle and bone, or the pain, most immediate in his gut, Lyman seems bent on carving up the other man. He gurgles painfully, before his words come together in a venomous hiss, "So. Kurgan. A touchy subject is it? Well, if you survive the trauma, maybe you'll be reacquainted..."
Roll by Nicodemus: (6) (5) (2)
Roll by Edward: (3) (1) (1)
One of the country club workers pads quietly about the room, attending to the guns that need to be cleaned and polished. He deftly mimes the appearance of serious work, meanwhile sneaking glances at the dueling pair. As he makes his rounds of the room, he reaches the side of Kacela. Pushing up his cap, he gives her a friendly smirk, violet eyes gleaming out at her from under the cap's rim, a shock of black hair falling over his forehead. "Guess who," he whispers, winking.
Edward howls as the claws once again sink deeply into his flesh and spits out "At least he's at peace in heaven. Something you'll never know, demon." With a cry of angry he steps back, wrenching the claws out of his body and aims his axe toward Lyman's neck, hoping to cleave it in two.
Roll by Edward: (3) (6) (6)
Kacela claps the stock and the slide down on the counter before her, and bats eyes a few times. Hissing in breath as she catches not only the voice, but the scent of the figure leaning over her shoulder, she turns her head imperceptibly, eyes finally locking with his own. "A man of many hats. Good evening, Ullyses. Are you enjoying the entertainment? And try not to suggest to the others that you're familiar with me. Wouldn't do to give them false intelligence like that." She primly snaps out an oilcloth, and leans forward a bit to peer at the weapon once. "And how did you ever find us? Have we managed to gain our own little entourage?"
"Familiar with you? Have I ever claimed such?" Uzal murmurs quietly. He pretends to be showing interest in the weapon, not Kacela, leaning forward as if offering technical advice, his face as bland as any other hired worker's. Only when he sneaks a sly glance at her, out of sight of the combatants, do his violet eyes glitter. "I happened to hear from the some of the employees here that some 'bigwigs' were showing up today, for a 'special private session.' It piqued my curiosity, so I came along." A shadow of a smirk, "Naturally I have an interest in the activities of this community's leaders."
With the one set of talons embedded in his opponent, Lyman senses the retaliation coming. Perhaps, Edward's muscles and pumping blood give something away. The claws phase back to human flesh and, removing the bloodied hand, Lyman darts back again, performing a rather graceful roll backward considering his injuries. Having the use of his right hand again...the one that doesn't match his scaly left... Lyman produces his pistol again. Evidently, his trust in the weapon has been renewed. But, just to be sure, one of the remaining wings slides into place. Acting as a shield, it also helps Lyman to aim...
"Not with that attitude, I won't," Lyman spits at Edward, speaking over the shots from his weapon, "But, even if I can't win the vendetta that is this war, I might find some small satisfaction in know you're some place far worse."
Roll by Nicodemus: (3) (4) (1)
Roll by Edward: (6) (3) (6)
Edward manages to laugh though the blood "A far worse place, ah, how little you know demon." Then he grunts as the bullets strike him and he staggers backwards. He catches himself and straightens up, rushing towards Nicholas his axe coming down at his neck again
Roll by Edward: (5) (5) (4)
"The leaning might suggest otherwise," Kacela begins to say, even as Uzal actually manages to blend in with typical employee protocol. The sound of gunfire catches her attention, and she ahs quietly to herself. "And here I was having fun watching him in something other than that dreadfully featureless human form. The price we must pay in order to fulfill our service," she muses some, still keeping a close watch on the swings of Edward -- they were starting to take on a frenzied pitch, suggesting... frustration, perhaps... or fatigue. A sly, patient smile crosses her face, before she coos back to Uzal. "Community leaders? You know, for someone so smitten with Nicholas, you rarely deign to talk to him. Any other time besides this one of course. It's bad timing, you see." She holds up the three foot wide, four foot long poster-paper of the target silhouette she had been working on before Nicholas arrived, showcasing the X's for eyes and frown-face etched by bullet holes in the image's forehead kill zone.
Lyman takes a few cautionary steps backward, allowing the axe to find nothing but air. To keep Edward from advancing and proceeding with another attack, he fires repeatedly. Unrelenting, he aims for the torso, hoping to continue the surgery he was performing earlier, "I wouldn't put too much stock in what you think you know. You'd charge me with being a liar, when the truth is...you work for the universe's finest.
Roll by Nicodemus: (1) (2) (5)
Roll by Edward: (3) (4) (2)
Edward grunts in shock and pain as all three bullets slam into him and he falls to his knees. Slowly he staggers to his feet with a groan and moves forward, he's not going to back down, not in front of a demon. He'll show them what Heaven is made of. He hefts his axe and swings it one last time, aiming for the torso, just to get one last blow in.
Roll by Edward: (1) (4) (6)
Uzal turns his eyes back to the fighting. "Your boss seems to be doing his own work tonight," he notes, concealing his disappointment as Lyman seems to be /winning/. Not that he really cares about the angel, either. Oh, well. "You do not find the human form pleasing, then?" he inquires, letting his gaze travel from the target-drawing to the much shapelier form of Kacela's vessel, before resuming his bland, businesslike demeanor.
It is sheer arrogance and it radiations from the Austin industrialist. Watching Edward stumble to his feet, the axe held haphazardly, Lyman simply stands there, smirking back. Fully expecting his opponent to topple over from exhaustion, he mocks, "Good fight. I'm afraid it wasn't good enough. By the way, if you ever wake up in Heaven, you can tell them that Nicodemus sent you." Casually, he brings the Berretta back up, leveling it at Edward once last time. But, before any shot can be fired, Lyman notes the beginnings of Edwards mustering strength. "What do you think you're doing?" he snarls, as if disgusted by the dripping shell of a man left. Then, it comes, that final stroke. It cuts deep into Lyman's upper chest and shoulder, causing that shooting arm to fall limp. Fortunately, the limb isn't removed entirely, but it may as well be. It's just as useless. The pistol clanking to the ground, Lyman coughs through the pain. "Some fight left in you?" he growls irritably, "We'll change that!" The clawed left strikes out, clutching at Edwards throat as it did earlier. Only this time, it sets in and pulls back, hoping to remove a rather large chunk from the man's throat.
Kacela considers the pair locked in combat. "One doesn't always need to spend time and energy on looking at things from oblique angles. There are some joys that are just too primal to be ignored. They may differ from Superior to Superior, but well... it makes us who we are." She shoots Uzal a /LOOK/ at the ogling, but doesn't otherwise object, reasoning to herself that if she did not want to be looked at, she wouldn't have come out in public. "There are some features unique to the form. I would think many would be biased toward the shell merely because it represents an escape from The Pit. Oh, he's nearly had it," she says, although WHICH one she's talking about is hard to tell. And then, the last-ditch effort from Edward hits home. "OH for the love of..." Kacela draws her feet up underneath her, keeping the boots clean as the axe and carotid-powered blood jets from Nicodemus. And then, the final stroke. Kacela finds her pulse racing...
Roll by Nicodemus: (3) (4) (4)
Roll by Edward: (4) (2) (3)
Edward staggers backwards, the axe slipping from his fingers as his throat vanishes in a wash of blood. He makes no sound as the vessel crumples to ground, all life gone.
"Well, I have never /seen/ your other form," Uzal admits, flashing her a little glittering glance, as if trying to celestially 'undress' her. But before he can make more suggestive remarks, Edward goes down, followed by Lyman's near-collapse. Uzal smirks a little to himself at Lyman's tattered condition. "Even victory comes with a price."
"And I've never seen yours," Kacela taunts back, before standing, a drawn smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Eyes are narrowed in glee at what can only be considered the evisceration of the Michaelite, and teeth flash briefly in a vicarious snap. Pacing over toward the hefty bladed weapon on the ground, she gives it the once over, before clutching both hands over it, and hefting it. "Oh, that's heady. I can see why they like it so much." One hand produces the oiling cloth for the gun, ruining it for any further use as she wipes down the blood from the razored edges. At that point, she sets down the cleaned axe on the concrete in front of the prone Lyman's face, the prize there for his taking if he didn't bleed out first.
When there is no longer any grisly corpse to admire, Lyman swivels toward the fallen axe. He reaches out for it with great pains. Still, his voice manages to find itself, as he purrs to Kacela with that rich tone, "Kacela, my dear, I believe we're done here... " Turning to regard his associate, Lyman fixes a heavy gaze to the man that accompanies her. The pride in his victory is instantly taken from his face, though locked away to be enjoyed in more comfortable surroundings. "We're going," Lyman states, the order made more clear this time.
Kacela refocuses her attention on Edward's lifeless body. "Going to be tricky, with so many holes," she concludes as she produces a black-handled police issue utility belt, snapping it out at the ready with a flick of the wrist. "Now... let's see here..." At this point, she slashes around the body's wrists and ankles, before dragging up a seam along the inner arms and legs, slashing through cloth as well. She's gets done with separating the first inch or so of skin along the calf, and is actually midway through the process of PULLING the skin off with a sound sickeningly reminiscent of pulling out duct tape, when Nicholas announces his edict. "Oh," she says in mild disappointment, caught in the process of flaying the vessel. She snatches one last look to Uzal, sickeningly smug in the unity displayed between herself and Lyman. It's a look that begs to be wiped off her face -- if not by physical force, then by much more subtle, sinister methods.
Uzal's face tightens at the interplay between Kacela and Lyman. Their bonding does not please him at all. He smiles at Nicodemus in mock congratulations. "One for you," he says simply.
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