You heard her. Get rid of that loathsome form. Are you, or are you not, Tibor of the watchtower, guardian of the Zlaty Chlum, servant to Nadia of Prague?
[A pause. And the bird lets out something that can only be a very vile curse in Russian, altering its form a little. The brilliant green and yellow wings- healed- now sprout out of its back, and it takes a somewhat human form, its hair spilling into feathers, nails long and sharpened to a point. It looked almost harpy-like, save for the... obvious maleness of it, given the nudity. It sat back in the circle like it didn't have a care in the world, a look of dark amusement on the narrow face.]
I am Tibor the djinni, the seer of death and all that lies before it. [It spoke again, in English this time, his voice low and ominous. As it speaks, the feathers grow darker, the room itself loses light, and the spirit grows, standing, until it's looming above the both of them, a good nine feet tall, centimeters away from the inside of its circle- and suddenly chalk looked so flimsy, drawn on the floorboards like that.] I have watched the walls rise and fall and be built again. I have built kingdoms, I have slain men and women and djinn alike- I have been worshiped in temples, I have walked the deserts of Egypt and the forests of India. I ask you now, pathetic humans: who dares to call upon me?
[Offline]
You heard her. Get rid of that loathsome form. Are you, or are you not, Tibor of the watchtower, guardian of the Zlaty Chlum, servant to Nadia of Prague?
[A pause. And the bird lets out something that can only be a very vile curse in Russian, altering its form a little. The brilliant green and yellow wings- healed- now sprout out of its back, and it takes a somewhat human form, its hair spilling into feathers, nails long and sharpened to a point. It looked almost harpy-like, save for the... obvious maleness of it, given the nudity. It sat back in the circle like it didn't have a care in the world, a look of dark amusement on the narrow face.]
I am Tibor the djinni, the seer of death and all that lies before it. [It spoke again, in English this time, his voice low and ominous. As it speaks, the feathers grow darker, the room itself loses light, and the spirit grows, standing, until it's looming above the both of them, a good nine feet tall, centimeters away from the inside of its circle- and suddenly chalk looked so flimsy, drawn on the floorboards like that.] I have watched the walls rise and fall and be built again. I have built kingdoms, I have slain men and women and djinn alike- I have been worshiped in temples, I have walked the deserts of Egypt and the forests of India. I ask you now, pathetic humans: who dares to call upon me?