Kerrigan had been in Connlaoth for four days now, but up until this point nothing at all interesting had happened. He had been sitting quietly on a rooftop, enjoying a sweet cake he had stolen, when the lightning started. He sat there for while, listening to whatever was happening. A few of the buildings rear him were struck, incinerated by the force of the bolts of energy. Magic, he assumed. Precisely what he had come here to find. He didn’t rush it though, after all any mage that couldn’t hold his own against whatever guards tried to stop him was hardly worth Kerrigan’s time. He stuffed the last piece of cake into his mouth, stood up and dusting himself off. He pulled the hood of his dark wool cloak over his head, masking his features somewhat.
He had abandoned the Vharzyym, the pathetic fools they were. If he anted to accomplish anything at it, he would have to do it himself. He still wore the tunic they had given him, mostly because it fit well and he couldn’t be bothered stealing a new one. He started off, leaping to the next roof then dropping to the ground. He walked slowly towards the sounds, noting the people hurrying away from their source. Gunfire sounded. The battle had been joined then. He strode on, a little more quickly.
He soon reached the battlefield, for that’s what it had become, however one sided the battle seemed to be. Though he could not see as humans do, Kerrigan's magical eye revealed much. Three figures were in the centre of the destruction. A large man and a bird-woman, both with impressive magical power, and a young boy, who seemed to have a lingering taint of something Kerrigan could not identify. Other than that the only ones nearby were two soldiers taking cover and a man who appeared to be watching the action.
He smiled. This looked promising. He drew power from his surrounds, extinguishing many of the tiny pinpricks of light that made up his world. Once sufficient power had been taken he summoned an invisible wall. The wall would block any physical projectile, he noted the soldiers as having guns, and manifest itself as white fire should anything try to get through. The lightning he had no defence against, but he trusted his own luck to protect him.
Kerrigan strode into view, his cloak billowing about him. About half way to his destination a bolt of lightning struck close enough fro him to feel the heat and to cast an electric glow on his grey skin. He reached the mages, bowing as he approached. “Greetings,� he said, having to yell a little to be heard over the thunder, “I am Kerrigan. Amy I ask what is going on exactly?� He studied the man, who was getting more and more worked up every second. He turned to the bird-woman, thinking it more likely he would get a response out of her.
