Failure to Report [Plotline]

[Allana]

Crack! Her practice sword reverberated as it struck the practice dummy right beneath the right pommel. Had it been a man, that arm would have been rendered useless. Thankfully for the dummy, it was made mostly of scrap materials and useless shards of armaments. Leftovers from whatever Jhaelle was working on behind those locked doors. Two dots and a curving line of red paint gave the thing a rather simple face. The arms and body were attached to a heavy wooden post that stood out of the floor.

Dummies were novices work, her level of swordplay had long ago passed beyond striking inanimate objects. Sparring was much more productive, but that involved living organisms. It also meant you had to restrain yourself. Inanimate objects were a much simpler way to go. She did not have to pull a punch or stop her sword short of a throat. She did not want to, either.

Crack, crack, crack. Her blade danced through the air, each time it touched down bits of debris burst from he foe's body.

More than anything, attacking these dummies gave her an escape from her thoughts. Fleeting and momentary as it might be. Still it was not perfect, they seeped in beyond that void of concentration beyond the sting in her palm and the ache in her shoulder. Fate and prophecy, that is what lurked in the recesses of her mind. It weighed on her mind as anchor on a ship.

Someone must believe the stupid thing, it was so well hidden. Such a nonsensical, prophecy. Secreted away in the bowels of a temple, surely nothing that was harmless or mundane would be laid so deep. But yet she refused to believe. There was no great pattern, no weave to the madness, there was only chaos. Certainly the gods pulled strings on mortals here and there, but there was no grand order to things.

She looked down at the bits of straw and hemp that had fallen from her opponent. They lay in a random order, no rhyme or rhythm. That was how life was. Things fell as they would, everything was random. That same succession of blows might have landed them in any pattern, a thousand times, a thousand different patterns. She stomped heavily with her boot and they scattered. There was no divine plan, her history, all that had happened to her, were not pre-ordained. She was no pawn to fate.

Thwack, crack, snap! Her blow caught the dummy solidly in the throat and the wooden blade severed at the tip against the heavy wooden post that made up the dummy's center. She stared at the broken weapon in her hand, and the concentration on the blade practice faded.

Where the hell was Dachande? Olorae had said he was preoccupied with a young kamael. Some knight he was turning out to be. Obedient, dutiful, pfah! No she could not count on him. Useless, lustful, and pathetic a typical male through and through. The aching in her arm seemed almost unbearable now, she was sweating she realized.

Aggrivated, she threw the remnants of the sword at the dummy. It clattered to the floor noisily stirring the bits of debris yet again as it landed. How had Theren let himself get caught? She wondered if he had woken yet. He had been more reliable than she had expected. She had thought he would be the one distracted by his endless procession of female consorts. So wrong, so wrong so many times in such a short amount of time.

Then there was Kennard, another male who could not keep it in his pants. Something about the fool man touched a string in her heart she had not known was there. How could she sympathize with a man who had defiled such a work of Shilen's. And yet, she felt for him, his yearning to be a father. His hope, his aspiration, his pangs of separation. She had agreed to that bloody letter as well. Foolish, it could land her head in the noose if Olorae chanced to find out. She would have to be very very careful.

She searched for another sword. There was simply no way all this was fate. It was impossible. This was no part of any divine plan or prophecy, this was how things fell. Randomness and chaos and yourself, that was all anyone ever really had to rely on. With no weapon readily available she scowled at the dummy. With its painted on smiley face it seemed almost mocking. When she finally left, her arms were scraped and bruised. Her knuckles bloodied and split, but the dummy did not smile anymore. A simple wooden post, stained with a few smears of blood was all that remained upright.

[ValerieRose]

((I love Allana's posts. This one was awesome, Lala!

[callypso]

Deider ran as fast as could, but it was difficult to do with no moonlight. The valley was huge! How was he ever going to find her in here, and in this darkness? His fear was gripping him tightly, but Isael would kill him if this letter was not delivered.

He had been wandering for hours when he finally heard a laugh, but it sounded so far away. It was definitely female, perhaps it was her. He carefully followed the sound, careful to avoid the aggressive beasts that lingered nearby.

He followed the laugh until he came to a waterfall. He was sure she would be here! He looked around but saw only Lieles floating transparantly in the water. It was then he realized the laugh was laughing no more. The valley was so silent, unnaturally silent.

As he turned to run, a bright blue blade met him at his throat. He could feel the cold of the steel on his skin. As he opened his eyes, he realized he wasn't dead! The dark elf lowered her dagger. He laughed and breathed a sigh of relief, "Whew, I thought I was a goner for sure! You scared me to death!"

His excitement at being alive was quickly erased as he looked into those eerie blue eyes. She didn't smile, nor did she speak. She just watched him, her glowing dagger ready to strike him down.

"Are you Vedette?", he stuttered? She nodded and he handed her a rolled up parchment with the Hunter's Guild seal stamped on the inside. She snatched it from his hand, "Another request for satyr manes, I assume?", her tone sent shivers down his spine.

She read and reread the letter. Then she looked up at the young boy. "When was this letter given to you?" The boy couldn't seem to speak. "When?!", she yelled. "I..I..I don't remember. Isael just gave it to me and asked me to find you. You're a difficult person to track down", he stammered.

Vedette had no idea how long ago the letter had been written. From the looks of the outside of the parchment, it hadn't been too recent. She knew she had to get back to the village and speak to Isael. She may not know much, but any little bit could help right now. Too much could, and probably had happened since the paladin went missing. She only hoped it wasn't too late

[callypso]

Isael was standing in a small back room behind the warehouse. She spun around to see Vedette standing in the shawdows. "I didn't think you were going to show up. I sent Deider after you weeks ago." Vedette sat down on a crate filled with crystals and sheathed her dagger.

"Your messenger might be suited perfectly for running your errands in town, but a matter of importance such as this should have been handled with a little more...finesse. Or better yet, you could have contacted me personally."

"Perhaps you're right, but my messenger isn't what we need to discuss. I had the letter sent to you in hopes that you could assist in tracking down the paladin. Unfortunately, recent events have put him out of my thoughts." A look of fear and uncertainty came over Isael's face as she looked into the eyes of her dark elven friend.

"Vedette, I'll explain as much as I can now. But I'm afraid that you will have to leave here...soon. Your next mission will not involve hunting in the valley, it will not involve hunting at all. You will need to travel to the Church of Einhasad.

A look of pure disgust came over Vedette's face. "I refuse to go anywhere near those hypocrites! How dare you ask me to go there, especially after what they did! I don't care enough about this paladin to risk my life."

"Do you care enough about your friends?". Isael asked. Vedette looked at Isael. "What are you talking about? Who...what's going on, Isael?" The knight lowered her head and sat down across from her friend.

"Go to Giran, a friend of mine will be awaiting your arrival. You should leave now." Isael got up to walk back outside, but Vedette quickly blocked her path. "You will tell me what's going on, and you will tell me now." Her hand fell to her side, and Isael noticed that the blue glow from her dagger was shining out from under its sheath.

She looked into Vedette's eyes. "My friend, I ask you to trust me. I cannot say more, not here. Too many traiter's ears are listening. Go to Giran, your arrival will not go unnoticed. I have a contact there waiting for you. He will find you and give you the information you need. Go, there is no more time to waste."

Vedette turned and made her way out of the room. She glanced back at Isael who gave her an approving nod. Whatever was happening with this mysterious paladin had gotten out of hand. And if the church was involved, there was no way it could be good.

Vedette walked to the edge of the village. She knelt down and prayed to Shilen. She would need her strength and guidance more than ever. Before she set off to Giran, there was someone in Aden that owed Vedette a favor. It was time to pay up.

[Olorae]

Olorae sat in her study, a smile creeping over her face as she looked over the scroll. Finally, some good news.

The human is awake.

She would have to get Allana, and they would have to travel. It had been two long, clueless months that she'd sat going over the prophecy again and again and again, and still nothing stood out. Perhaps the rogue would have some news for them.

[Olorae]

Theren tensed, muscles in his legs coiling as he readied to move. Something wasn’t right; it was a feeling he was getting all too often these days. The wolf at his side, Ukiah, let out a low growl, the hair on the back of its neck bristling.

“Easy boy,” Theren whispered, scanning the trail ahead for signs of danger. There were none, but that only served to unnerve him further: his instincts were rarely wrong. Cautiously, the man and the wolf proceeded, rounding the trunk of a fallen tree, slipping past the leaves of the nearby bush, brambles sliding harmlessly from his leathers.

The sudden darkness that fell was oppressive, as if a weight had settled in on his chest and his back. He could move, but it felt like he was underwater; nothing responded quite as fast as it should. He struggled in vain, and then froze when he heard the voice.

“I hear you have been looking for me, hunter.” The words were clear, but they resonated with power. Theren turned toward the source, eyes growing wide behind his mask as a dark form, massive in size and length, girded in armor that seemed to absorb the light itself, prowled around him. The great cat’s yellow eyes burned through him; never had he felt so vulnerable, so exposed.

“You look surprised,” the man’s voice said, drawing Theren’s eyes up from the beast to the presence he’d thus far missed. His armor was white, but seemed somehow darker than Theren’s leathers. Blonde hair, perfectly cut and sculpted, resisted what little breeze stirred. But what startled Theren the most, what unnerved him more than anything, were the man’s eyes. As blue as the richest sapphire, they bore down on him with a predator’s glare. “Don’t you recognize me? All this work to find me, and now you’re speechless?”

“Eri… Eriendis Manx?” Theren asked, somewhere in the back of his mind aware of the wolf’s whine and fear.

“Indeed,” the paladin replied. “Pity all your work is for naught. Pity you’ve been found wanting, wallowing in your vice. Pity you die tonight.”

--

The rogue sat straight up in the bed, gasping for air, reaching for his chest. Only the scars from his encounter with the inquisitor remained. There was no gaping hole from the point of a sword, his flesh had not been torn by the panther’s claws.

It had been yet another dream, but it had felt so real, so much more than all the others.

[ValerieRose]

((Now I'm curious, darn it... is it just a dream or something else? -sigh-

[sumatraa]

((So sorry I have been mia these past few months guys. I've been extremely sick. In and out of the hospital and what not. I have been feeling better lately but it comes and it goes. I am not able to be on the computer much. I hope second trimester is better. I'll try to catch up on things. Til then, I wish you all well. *hugs*
~Tiffy))

[Olorae]

Investigations Resume

The wolf circled quietly, eyes gleaming in the low lights of the city’s lanterns. There were few people about in Oren this time of night, but he had picked up the scent of his prey and had the priest cornered. He could smell the man’s fear; he could see it trickling down his leg. He tensed, ready to lunge, waiting only for the command from his master.

The command came, like the whispered hiss of an arrow, and the wolf feinted left, drawing the priest’s shield to that side, exposing the man’s chest and neck, his true target. Like lightning, the wolf corrected and jumped, knocking the man down, teeth clamping around his neck, breaking the skin and drawing out the taste of blood. It would be so easy to shake his head and break the man’s neck, but he had not heard the command yet, and so he stayed himself, instead letting out a deep, low growl, yellow eyes staring the man into submission.

“I understand you are familiar with the comings and goings of the temple, father,” the voice rang clear, if slightly quiet, from the shadows along the alley’s southern wall. When the priest did not respond, the voice continued. “I seek a dark elf, blessed with holy fire. You will tell me what I wish to know, or my friend here will rip your throat out.”

The wolf tightened its jaws, as if anticipating the gush of lifeblood that would follow the command. The priest’s eyes widened and he began to stammer out a response.

“He’s here, in the temple. Inquisitor Maris; he’s the one you want. Please, for the love of Einhasad, let me go…”

The rogue looked up at the church, studying the façade for a moment while the wolf growled; silencing the priest’s plaintive whining.

“Knowing he is here does me no good. I need his routine; I need to know when he is vulnerable. You know these things?”

The priest nodded, fear filling his eyes.

“I can tell you, just please… let me live.”

“Then you live, for now. Pray to your goddess you remain useful to me.” The man turned, opening a door and giving a soft whistle. The wolf, teeth still clenched around the priest’s neck, dragged the man into the dark room. Looking down the alley, then up one last time at the temple, Theren grinned. They would never look in their own shadow, until it was too late.

[Olorae]

Olorae smiled, the wind caressing her as she looked out from the ramparts of Oren. She had trusted the assassin would be efficient, and she was not disappointed. The elf lay dead on the road, and the guards would have no clue as to why.

She turned, pulling out the scroll that would take her home. She could speak to the gatekeeper, but she did not want her presence here to be known. She knew Khanna would escape without being caught, but she was not so graceful.

The only concern she had, as the magic enveloped her and whisked her away, was that the elf would not stay dead. There were enough priests to ensure it was a possibility. She would have to speak to the assassin again, to plan for a more permanent solution.

[khanna]

After her escape from the city, the assassin found time to read the parchment she plucked from the Elf maiden's body. She tried hard to make out what the message had meant. However she hadn't the background knowledge to know more than what she was sent out to do.

Well, if the Mistress deems it a suitable task then there should be no reason to question her. The assassin concludes that when the time comes, she will be told more.

[zethrodraithius]

Lafyel sat at the bar and tried to ignore the empty space around her. It was a new experience being in The Village of the Hunters, but it was not anywhere near a new experience to be treated like one had multiple diseases. Nor did it make a good situation for listening for tips on possible jobs.

"...There's this hunt for a paladin gone rogue..."

Her ear twitched as she sipped at the water she'd ordered when having entered the bar. Beneath her mithryl armor suit, her muscles tensed.

"...I heard the guy might be dead..."

"...But the hunt for him still continues..."

Lafyel downed the rest of her water and left the barman a tip before leaving the bar. Looking around, she saw a noticeboard and with quick strides that never ceased to make her wing flutter, approached it.

A slightly weathered parchment caught her crimson eyed gaze and she proceeded to read it. Her eyes narrowed, "Why would a Paladin be hunted?" She mused to herself as she started walking out of the village.

She knew paladins to be good sorts, that was what she'd been told at any rate. Why was this paladin wanted so bad though? Surely he could be dead by now, couldn't he?

Lafyel shrugged as she brought her mind out of her musings to realize that she was at the crossroads between Aden and Oren. One of these two towns would have more information on what she sought. Looking toward the north, she had a good feeling about going in that direction. Or maybe the feeling had something to do with that young male Dark Elf coming toward her from the direction of Oren.

A while later, the uniwinged Kamael redonned her armor suit and left the male elf a good deal more informed than she had been before the chance meeting. Adley had told her that someone had killed his older brother the night before and he was fleeing south out of fear for his own life. Lafyel internally snorted, the male was so young that she doubted he was really headed to Aden. No, she mused, his destination was somewhere far to the west. Not that she doubted his story, but the youthfulness of his entire demeanor had her changing his story slightly.

However, the point of this was information on the paladin, and someone knew something in Oren. Lafyel had a feeling that said paladin's `unknown whereabouts' meant something other than `alive and running'. Her eyes grew cold as she speculated what that meant. Information was the key factor she was missing, and someone in Oren knew what she needed to know. The Kamael continued her journey resolutely toward where she hoped answers could be found.

((hope this is ok, let me know if it isnt and we can work the kinks out at that time...))

[Olorae]

((My apologies for not posting anything sooner. I was having a hard time motivating my muse to give me something creative and certain. Please forgive the succinct post, but it's hopefully enough to get started))

The trail has gone cold, lost in [[Oren]] with a dead oracle. The Church is in a frenzy over the [[Elf]]'s death, reportedly at the hands of a [[Dark Elf]] Assassin.

Rumor says the Oracle issued a prophecy before her death, a prophecy that gives the Bishops and Cardinals great cause for concern.

Where, in the midst of all this chaos, is the errant Paladin? Does this Prophecy truly relate to him? Who, outside the Church, knows what it said?

[khanna]

It's been many nights after the slaying of the light elf in the city of Oren, but finally the assassin had made it to the clan hall alive, and with the parchment. The City of Oren will be on alert for the next few weeks no doubt, since the body of the elf would almost have to have been found by now. The assassin smiles an inward smile at her devilishly quick handy-work.

As Khanna comes to the front doors she gives it a push open and walks through. She sees many of her allies doing various things, but pays most of them no heed. Her business is not with any of them. She goes to the door that's marked as Olorae's Study. Before she's able to enter the room, she hears a slight rustling sound behind her. She turns to see Sadori behind her, gazing questioningly....

[Sadori]

She emerged from the nearby hall with hands lightly resting on the pommels of her swords, her fingers twitched and dancer's muscles hummed at the appearance to the one before her. Just as she sought to draw her blades, the intruder stopped and turned to face her. With a slow practiced grace, Sadori released the pommels and crossed her arms lightly. The tension leaving her body as quickly as it came and only the darkness of her eyes a reminder of the deadly intent from a moment before.

"The Celebrant in in a meeting. Can I assist you... Khanna?"

[khanna]

The words came out even and dark. The aura of this one carries some unknown dark undertone that Khanna can not quite understand, more so than other dark elves, and just being around this one, gives her the chills. The rumors surrounding Sadori certainly didn't help to comfort her either.

Khanna notices her hand move from the swords strapped on her hips and cross on her chest. She sees her as a strong elven warrior. Even though the Blade Dancer is in a relaxed state, Khanna knows that in an instant those blade will whirl out of their scabbard and be at her throat. The assassin tries her best to keep her head clear, and her face from betraying her, revealing the emotions inside.

"The Mistress had sent me on a task. I have come to give her this," the assassin says as she pulls a scroll from her belt. It is rolled up with a single silk bow tied in the center of it.

"I'm sure she will want to see it."

[Sadori]

Though the assassin masked it well, the Otherness inside Sadori smelled the nervous uncertainty and reveled in that knowledge. Eyeing the scroll with a grim recognition of what it was said to hold, she nodded. "One Moment." Her arms remained crossed as her head tilted slightly, eyes fixed on the closed door.

{Danthe'. My apologies for the interruption.}

{Not at all. What do you need, Love?}

{The Assassin is here. She has the scroll.}

{Ah, Good. Thank you. I will be with her in a moment.}

Sadori's gaze returned to Khanna. "You will wait."

Moments later the door to the Celebrant's study opened to reveal Theren. The Treasure Hunter emerged quietly, nodding respectfully to the Bladedancer and looking a bit shaken and chagrined. Sadori's lips curled in a brief grin and shook her head as he departed. Gesturing to the still open door, she spoke softly.

"She will see you now."

[khanna]

Khanna nods respectfully in Sadori's direction before slipping through the crack in the door. As she enters the door behind her swings shut with a small click as the latch of the wooden door closes. She lets her breath out for a second, being relieved that she is away from the Blade Dancer, then focuses her mind on matters at hand. In a room filled with books of all kinds, scrolls, and magical components of various types, she sees Olorae waiting.

Khanna dips into a formal bow style greeting to Olorae, then hands the parchment to the Celebrant.

"Mistress, the task was a success. I had found this, I hope it means something to you."

[Olorae]

Within the study, the Celebrant sat at her desk. An array of books, scrolls, and parchments covered most every horizontal surface, while various maps and diagrams covered the walls. Somewhere behind all the paper, a window looked out over Gludin.

The Celebrant sat with her hands folded in her lap, a contented smile hinting at the edges of her lips, much like the proverbial cat having devoured a canary.

"Khanna, welcome," she said quietly. "I thank you for the efforts in securing this for me. I am quite intrigued by the chaos the Church has been thrown into, both by these words and by the death of the oracle."

Olorae smiled, a genuine reaction to the parchment as she let her eyes read over the words.

"How very interesting. Have you read this?"

[khanna]

"Yes I have", the assassin replies, "However it doesn't make seance to me. I was hoping you could provide the puzzle pieces needed to unlock it's meaning."

The assassin remains hopeful that one such as Olorae would deem it worthy to share information with one of such low rank as herself. For a brief moment she felt herself getting eager, however she pushes this emotion away. Now isn't the time to get sloppy.

[Olorae]

The Celebrant looked the parchment over a little longer before looking up.

"I have some suspicions, but there is still uncertainty in my own mind about its meaning," she said. "Perhaps we would do well to gather our forces, to see what can be found out by approaching it from different angles. Letting our individuality benefit the whole, as it were."

She glanced to the door a moment , narrowing her eyes.

{Mirshann, we need to gather the clan. Might you light a fire under someone to get the message out?}

[Sadori]

Beyond the closed door a low soft murmur can be heard, followed by a brief moment of stillness then the sound of many booted feet assembling.

~~~~~~~~~~~

She had barely heard the Celebrant's thoughts before she was speaking to one of the Echoes Guard. Within a few beats she had a handful of others before her, a combination of curiosity and awe in their otherwise stoic expressions at the unprecedented address by the Celebrant's wife and personal guard.

"Send couriers to the entire Clan. Miss no one. The message will be as follows..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moments later, booted feet move away from the door.

{It is done. The couriers will be leaving within the hour.}


(Please see the Event posting in the Members Section for details: handofshilen.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=clanevents&thread=3798)

[zethrodraithius]

The Kamaelian gazed unseeing at the distant horizon as the deck heaved beneath her through the waves of the sea. She had aquired passage of a ship that would take her by her home and was thinking about the oddities of the case. Unmindful of the seaspray, she took out her blade and inspected it, mentally summoning some of her innate magic and channeling it into the finger that trced along the rapier's edge. This action cleansed and resharpened the blade that had slain countless monsters.

Angling the thin blade just right, the SoulBreaker stared into the reflected crimson eyes in contemplation of her next move. Lafyel stared into the reflection of her crimson eyes. "Who are you?"[/b] She asked her reflected image, lifting her gaze from her blade. She eyed the approaching channel the ship would be taking and knew it wouldn't be long in reaching the Harbor of Souls.

Her ears recorded the lapping of the waves on the pier as she briefly eyed the departing ship before turning to to walk toward the tower where she lived. Invoking her own travel spell, she arrived at her door to see a note wedged in the crack and frowned.

A while later, the Kamaelian made her way to the top of the tower and looked eastward toward the Dark Elf lands. The wind crinkling and crackling at the tightly held paper in her hand. Ignoring the gusting winds, the vermilion eyed soul breaker stared toward the mainland. "All I know is that some paladin is missing," She mused out loud to herself and to the east, "but according to this note, there seems to be more than meets the eye." She grimaced and descended into the tower to prepare for another trip, this one to the clan complex.

[Olorae]

The girl was tired. She had been poring over the ancient scrolls for days without sleep, only pulling herself away to eat. Olorae expected results, and she did not want to disappoint. She had only felt the lash once, but the memory alone was enough to make her give her best.

But no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she read over the passages and translated them, the information just wasn't there. She didn't want to tell the Celebrant, but nothing in these books would help to break the Seal. Rolling the ancient parchment carefully and placing it away, she sat back and rubbed at her eyes. What was to come would not go over well.

Standing, she turned to the door of the small cottage that doubled as the library. The dwarf had everything moved in the wake of attacks on the Celebrant's records, closer to the hall that housed the Echoes. She knew it was just a few steps away, so she had nothing to fear. She pulled her robes tighter against the cold harbor wind and pushed at the door.

It didn't open.

She stared at it, perplexed for a brief moment. The lock was unlatched, there on the stand just inside the door. Why wasn't it opening? She pushed again, and still it didn't budge. She frowned, putting her shoulder into it like Davin had taught her. Nothing. She froze, eyes growing wide. Any sorceress worth their spells knew the scent of smoke, and she picked it up now, drifting in through the walls and under the door. She knew the wards she had placed would protect against arcane fire, something she had ensured the moment she could, to protect the knowledge she had trusted with.

This, however, was simply a normal fire, lit by a normal torch, all around the base of the building. The man holding the torch had watched her carefully through the small window for hours, confirming it was truly her. The laughter from all those years ago rang hollow in his ears, and now he had a chance to see her punished. That she was a spirit-worshiper made it all the easier to justify it. She had taken her divine gift and squandered it by pandering to a candle. Truly, she was unworthy.

He reached back and drove the torch through the glass, walking away as the parchment and books caught fire, spreading like a wild beast to engulf the cottage and the sorceress. He made his way into a dark alley, waiting and watching the long building not far away. He had identified it based on the common design on all of the bitch's buildings; She had no right to the cross, even if she had embellished it to resemble a flower.

He knew the building to be a nest of demons and sinners, and he would strike them all down, one by one, until he reached the self-styled chosen one and showed that no one was above reproach; everyone paid for their sins.

[The Thorn]

The growing glow through the curtains and the faint tang of smoke drew Thorn to the windows overlooking the Echoes Clan complex. Leaning against the frame, she twitched aside the draperies and observed with some interest, the fire that steadily engulfed and consumed what once was the new library – and just beyond, just touched by the orange firelight, the firebug who stupidly stood by and watched his handiwork from an alleyway. Thorn sighed and shook her head, hoping the librarian had finally decided to take a break from her duties before the arsonist thought to destroy the Celebrant’s collections. Her gut suggested this was merely wishful thinking. Sweeping up her veil and daggers, she slipped out onto the ledge and up to the roof to get a better look.

Using rooftops, ledges and the ever-present shipping crates that peppered the district, she slipped closer to where the idiot had last been seen. Ghosting across the roof above, she achieved line of sight at last, the flickering light providing slight assistance in picking out identifying characteristics. The fool stood there still, watching…waiting? The Thorn studied him as much as possible in the infrequent illumination then crept back along the far side of the roof, eventually taking a higher perch in the shadow of a wall rampart, where she too could observe the blaze and see who might respond to the tragedy while she puzzled over the information she had just gleaned and what sort of profit she might gain from it.

[Olorae]

Months had passed since the fire destroyed the Lilly library, since the witch was burned along with her books.

The Lillies had recovered what they could, and an irate Celebrant found someone else to fill in for the girl she had lost. What bothered her was that she knew who was responsible for it. She knew that it was a first shot, a warning to her and to the Echoes.

Quietly she had made arrangements for her research to be taken from the clan hall, secretly she had moved her valuables to somewhere safe. She had Firhi devise a suppression system, should the knight try fire again, but something told her it would be different the next time he attacked.

[Olorae]

Cold steel sang as the sword cut through the air, silenced only momentarily as it passed through the kamael's neck, spraying a swath of blood over the snow. The body fell, lifeless, the head rolling to a stop some yards away. The paladin shifted with the momentum of the blade, eyes seeking his next opponent.

The bandits had long since scattered for safer places, the corpses of their kin littering the field had been efficient enough message to them. He had come across the kamael moments earlier, knowing little of them but sensing the darkness within her even at a distance of thirty yards.

He had struck first, though her rapier had scored upon him more than once before she fell. He felt its sting even now, willing the blood to the wounds, feeling them close slowly. The act weakened him, he would need time to recover. But first, he had to send the devil's soul to oblivion, where it belonged.

Driving his sword into her lifeless breast, the paladin prayed over the makeshift cross, calling to Einhasad to purge the darkness from the corpse. The words carried power, carried Her righteousness; the devil would not rise again. He finished the prayer and tore the blade from her corpse. Walking away, he heard the sick, wet explosion of blood and flesh as the darkness was driven from the body, expelled from the world.

Nothing would grow there any more, but it was not his concern. He was a purifier, a weapon.