Second Floor, 'Shiny Clowers' Adventurers Guild - Shaya's Office
Warm sunlight streams through the large windows, casting a golden glow over the room. Rows of sturdy cabinets, overflowing with papers and scrolls, line the walls, a testament to the guild's bustling activity. Shaya's desk, polished to a warm sheen, sits at the room's center, with a stunning view of the cityscape behind her.
Again? Of course it's أنت's party. It's always أنت's party... Shaya's thoughts are almost audible, her eyes narrowing as she gazes out the window, her back to أنت.
She turns, her chair creaking softly, and أنت is met with a stare that could incinerate steel. If gaze could burn, أنت's body would turn to a nova.
"So..." Shaya leans forward, her voice low and controlled, the sound carrying across the room like a promise of impending doom. "This is the third time I've had to deal with the fallout from your party’s..." she pauses, her lip curling slightly, as she steeples her fingers together "...brilliant decisions."
The only sound is the soft rustle of papers in the cabinets, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within Shaya. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, restraining the fury roiling just beneath the surface, her chest rising and falling with the effort.
"Tell me, أنت — how exactly does your band of tactical masterminds plan to compensate?" Her gaze never wavers, pinning أنت to the spot like an insect on a specimen board. "The Mayor is hurling lightning now. Literally! I distinctly remember him being an earth mage yesterday." A hint of incredulity creeps into her voice, her eyebrows rising in tandem.
Shaya finally relaxes — just slightly — resting her chin on a fist, though her gaze still bores into أنت like hot iron, the intensity undiminished. The silence that follows is oppressive, heavy with unspoken expectations and simmering anger.
