Black Zenith [Adventure RPG / Chapter Four: Fires of Heaven]

Myra listened carefully to the story, though she let out a yelp as the strange goo hit her. She sent a glare back at the Half-Imp for a moment, knowing a spiteful action when she saw it. The ravenfolk let it pass, just this once, since it was a healing spell, and the woman was in a terrible mood right now. Just this once. Myra let it slide, and pressed on with the topic. "Okay, so if something takes control of you, then maybe it's a problem to do with spirits, or ghosts, or even elementals or demons...What's this about 'resolve', anyway? Do your people have to have a goal of sorts in mind at all times or something? You seem to have quite a lot of determination to me."