Magistrix Jaskian Clearwater

Dress for Success

Her apartment had been too quiet lately. Or maybe it was that she had been too quiet. She closed her book. The restlessness had been coming for some time, along with the occasional word from Luminash. Her own research was in a lull at the moment, and she had the time. They had been apart too long in the name of security. She didn't want to worry him more than necessary, but it was time to find out in person what was going on. He hadn't been as forthcoming as usual in his messages--he was either distracted or hedging, or both.

She was betting on both.

Crossing the quiet room the magistrix went to her closet and opened the well-oiled hinges. Her dressing robe puddled on the floor around her bare feet. Nimble fingers used to incantations and runic artistry flicked through silks and mageweave, cotton and dreamweave, linens and satins. Every one different. Every one suited to something.

That one. It was decided. In moments, the battle regalia settled over her shoulders as comfortably and she shook her honeyed hair down her back.

With no time lost, the cosmopolitan mage was striding through Silvermoon and each of her steps, heels high and sculpted, clicked with a satisfying snap. There was a purpose in every motion.

The portal magic opened at her call and her shoulders squared as she stepped through. Luminash wasn't one for sitting secure. She'd find him in Nazjatar.