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A Monster: Now and Forever (Razgriz x kuro_bara)

Razgriz

Shall we write beautiful stories together?
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Joined
Jan 27, 2011
The things that go bump in the night. Every culture has a story about them, about the creatures that wait in the shadows, the beasts that don the guise of humans, the evil beings that seek only to use humanity as a means of sustenance. From the rakshasa of Hindi countries to the wendigo of the Native American tribes, from the Lamia of Greece to the classic American zombie adapted from Haitan mythos...The stories about these inhuman abominations run rampant. Almost all dismiss them as fantasy, as machinations of an imagination gone wild. After all, a dead body can't walk, right? And how could a another creature be able to live if the blood was completely sucked from their body?

Rest assured though, that these creatures - these things that the stories say wish to kill and consume you, even convert you - are very much real. And though not everyone will experience an encounter with these beings, those that have know the truth. And they've found a means to fight back. To turn the tide against the abominations that snack on humans and make sure they can never lay a hand on a human again. They've formed a collective group, spread all around the world, known simply as The Hunters. Formed so many years ago, these humans have spread the word of the true horrors of the demons that walk among the mortals. Have trained those who wish to fight, who wish to protect their fellow man from becoming a target for the plethora of predators that stalk them from beyond sight.

These particular humans come from all walks of life: Rich, poor, convict, honest, anything that can describe humans are the type of people who become Hunters. But despite these differences in both lifestyle and ideology, they have the same goal: Eradicate all that hunt humankind, lest they overwhelm and destroy all of man. However, it was fairly obvious that despite their best efforts that they could not be everywhere at once; no one really expected a group so widely spread to actually catch all the monsters, but the Hunters viewed every kill a monster made as an embarrassing defeat. Even worse was when they brought in scryers - people versed in the art of 'sight beyond sight' or the ability to view events from a distance - and that the losses from monster attacks continued on. Even though with the scryer's assistance, the Hunters as a whole still largely lamented their inability to stop all monster attacks.

However, this concern was quickly replaced with another; over the years small swathes of Europe were beginning to become un-scryable. It was like some dark force was blocking out the ability to see into those lands, and as the darkness grew the Hunters found their European operations slowly being shut down. Cell phones, radio contact and even arcane methods of communication were cut...It was eerily systematic. Like whoever was doing this knew how to cripple them, render them unable to stop whatever was coming. This was thirteen years ago.

Present Day. Underground Hunter HQ, location unknown. Date: March 27, 1993

"Boss...Really, I don't think sending him in is such a good idea. You have that leash on him for a reason....He's dangerous. You saw what he did to that town of zombies in Spokane!" spoke a stout man, standing with five others sitting in a dimly lit room at a long, mahogany rectangular table lined with incredibly expensive-looking chairs. Paintings of various scenes lined the walls, ranging from the last stand at the Alamo to the deathly charge during the Battle for Bunker Hill. Also lining the walls were weapons of various sorts: Broadswords, assault rifles, and daggers that appeared to more aptly belong in a Smithsonian museum than a meeting room. The speaker himself stood about five feet five inches tall, with dark black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. His bright green eyes, filled with concern and worry, stared out to the rest of the accomplices as if pleading them to take his side. Like his associates, he dressed in a fine suit and had the outward appearance of a wealthy businessman; evident more was the slight gut he had from his apparent wealth.

Another man - this one more advanced in years, possessing a balding head of grey hair and taut but vibrant skin over his cheekbones - then stood to defend his colleague. "I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Monroe, sir; we've agreed to finance your operations but this seems far too much. And despite the skill of this...warrior...of yours, I'm afraid there's too much chance for excessive casualties. Besides, surely there are others equally suited to the task?" At this a third burst out in outrage, this one possessing lighter brown hair in the form of a bowl-cut, "Others more suited? Are you blind or just stupid? This...thing...has killed more than fifty Hunters! Fifty in under twelve years, and God only knows how many other mercs we sent in! We need to send him in; the time for discretion is past!" Within moments the meeting erupted into heated arguing; before long though, a loud gunshot rang out and forced all voices to be silenced. All eyes then turned to the head of the table, where a heavily-built man held a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun, the muzzle smoking as he sat back in a rather comfortable-looking armchair. From most perspectives, he looked every bit the part of an old time gangster: Dressed in a grey pin-stripe suit, wearing a fedora that covered slicked back, shining black hair and smoking a fine Cuban cigar. Fine rings adorned his thick fingers, some containing jewels in the inset while others were just silver or gold bands. Dark hazel eyes peered to the men who were so pointlessly squabbling with an intensity that few could match, one that could only belong to the true leader of the Hunter organization.

"For twelve years...For twelve years, we have hunted this thing" he started, his voice low but full of pent-up malice; he then slammed the barrel of his gun on the table and shouted "And despite everything I have said and all the manpower I have provided, we still have nothing to find where it hides! And yet you sit here and argue about whether or not we'll step on anyone's damn toes!" He was obviously quite riled; this was made even more clear when the fourth of the six suits replied, "Boss...Mr. Bolsov, please calm down, your condition..." Bolsov just snorted, "My condition is not important; what's important is figuring out why this damned thing keeps slipping through our fingers! And for that we're using him!" He then motioned to the guards at the door, heavily armored mercs wielding G36C rifles loaded with steel rounds. "You two! Go and get him! Bring him in!" he shouted to the merc on the left; the men just nodded and left the room. "And you! Bring me a scotch...I need a drink. And bring something for our friend" he then said to his associate - a medium height thin male dressed in a dark hooded robe - at his left, who gave a silent nod and stood up to retrieve the beverages.

Within moments, a knock was heard at the door; Bolsov just shouted, "Come in!" and across the threshold came a man dressed in a heavy-looking navy-blue cloak. A hood obscured much of his face; thin tendrils of silver-grey hair fell to frame what could be seen, his left eye - a brilliant shade of green - peered out at them from beneath the gray-trim hood of his cloak, his right covered by a black patch that obscured it from view. Loose leather clothing covered every inch of his form, the right sleeve of his shirt possessing strange sigils running down the length of it. A similar insignia could be seen on his right shoulder; if one were to take an initial impression of this man, he might be mistaken for someone who spent too much time at Harry Potter conventions. But this was no cosplayer or costume freak...This was Ricendithas Wolfswift, one of the oldest members of the Hunters and the only S-rank member left in the East American branch, as well as the only known true-blooded warlock in the entire organization. A sword hung in a black sheath on his hip, its hilt of shining black ivory largely concealed beneath the metal-laced cloak that hung over his shoulders...A weapon obtained from long ago to allow him greater means of slaying monsters and unholy beasts. But right now, everyone minus Bolsov was coughing like mad from the stench of burning flesh that seemed to emanate from every inch of his figure. "Good lord, someone open a window!" one of suits said in a slight panicked tone, to which another responded, "Are you crazy? The smell'll lead them all here!" "Well then at least keep the door open!"

Bolsov, however, just chuckled with an ear-to-ear grin on his face; he then asked, "So...Ric, I take it you grew bored of questioning?" The cloaked man then replied, "No...The beast knew nothing; it swore as much as I seared his skin little by little, even when I went to the bone and boiled his marrow. That meant he was either telling the truth or a dedicated liar. So I disposed of it". "So you did....Did you learn anything at all?" "Yes...Whoever was that creature's master holds a lot of power. So much that they're willing to be tortured without mercy to keep the location of the stronghold a secret". "Assuming it actually knew, which you said it did not". "Their minds are like ours: They can be truthful about anything if they believe what they're saying to be the actual truth and not just self-deception. It may not have known the location, but they knew who it was. Even with my talent in magic, I can only push the body to so much of an extreme physically and mentally". "Well...At least we have a general area...But I assume you already knew that". "Yes...Despite your efforts to keep me in the dark, I considered it an exercise to keep my ability to scry sharp. But I'll admit I didn't hear everything".

Bolsov just nodded and after taking another drag from his cigar snuffed it in a fine glass ashtray, then looked at Ricendithas, "Based on what little information we have, the target resides somewhere in Europe. That's about as far as we're able to narrow it down. The territorial boundaries aren't well-defined, but don't seem to extend into anything north of Denmark. We can only assume whatever this thing is is not fond of cold environments; then again, we've been wrong about it before". Ricendithas nodded, "This creature is definitely powerful; even my friend Albus could not penetrate the veil this creature has covered the land in, and he's a master of the craft". Bolsov just sighed, "Ric...We know it's not a lot to go on, but right now you're the best chance we have of stopping this thing". Ric paused for a moment, appearing to contemplate that which was spoken before saying "You know I can handle myself; if going in blind is the only way, then so be it". "If I might make a suggestion...Try Venice, Italy. I hear the pasta there is fantastic" "Will do...But first....The seal" Ric stated, tilting his head to expose his neck; a pentacle inscribed with odd-looking symbols around the circumference rested directly over the jugular. Bolsov just stopped, staring at Ricendithas as if stupefied; this was Ric's own work, a means for Bolsov to limit how much power he could use. "Ric...Are you sure?" Bolsov asked, the warlock stating flatly, "If I'm going in unprepared...I'll need every ounce I can muster. So yes". Bolsov was clearly hesitant, but then submitted and pulled a small silver knife from an anklestrap which he then drew across his palm, coating its wicked edge in a film of his own blood. Ric then walked around the table to where the Boss was; Bolsov then stood up and brought up the knife up to the warlock's throat.

"Boss!" "What are you..." "Are you mad" came a sudden outcry of protests, before Ricendithas stated, "Shut up, all of you. This is part of an Unbinding Ritual. Just sit down; I'll be gone soon enough". Uneasy exchanges of glances were heard, but soon enough the suited troupe sat back down. "So, a shallow cut right?" Bolsov asked; Ricendithas nodded in confirmation. "Pentaculo, continentiam, et ex qua est flamma profana ... Tollite sacrificium, quod est verum et in draconem sanguinem dimitti!" Bolsov spoke and after a quick slash, the blade cut the sigil down the center. Orange fire soon erupted from Ricendithas' palms, its color quickly shifting to blue as the heat intensified. Bolsov stepped back, watching as a bright red aura encased the warlock's body; Ricendithas then brought a palm to his neck and seared the wound shut, a slight stench of burnt skin emitting from his body. That done, the warlock just nodded and after a quick goodbye word, turned and left the meeting room while all eyes followed his progress out the door. "God speed to you, Ric" Bolsov commented; this was going to be his most difficult experience yet, he just knew it. But Ricendithas knew it too, and he accepted it. He would hunt this thing down; time was on his side after all. His own life experiences all those years ago saw to that; as the doors behind him closed, he closed his eyes and let the power of his fire magic emit from his body. The blue flame encased his whole body, giving him a near-spectral appearance; he then aimed his hands at the floor and carved a six-sided figure into the hard stone using plumes of flame to scorch it, then circumscribed it with a double-layered circle before finally carving coordinate sigils into the space between the circles themselves.

That done, he then directed small balls of fire to settle at each point where the hexagram and the circle touch; Ricendithas brought his palms together in front of him in a prayer-like gesture and spoke "Salamandra, commoda mihi mandatum. Ure per aethera cursu et coniungere, quo hinc ad vis". As the last syllable fell from his tongue, the six balls of fire lifted up from the floor and began to move in a clockwise fashion; before long it became a solid ring that hovered about his waist. He then spoke one last word: "Grassor". The ring became a column of fire that consumed the warlock entirely for a moment before dissipating to reveal that Ricendithas had vanished....Gone off on this new journey and likely his most difficult hunt yet. And worse yet, the man which had gone to get the drinks had just come around the corner to see the giant scorch mark left on the floor. His face fell; he'd paid so much to get these cleaned and prettied up too. And now it was marred to hell from the heat warping it and the burn marks in general. "Damn that Ricendithas...Letting you go better be worth it. Bring that son of a bitch down" he said, walking through the door to the shouting of Boss at how late he was and that Ric couldn't even enjoy one last drink.

Venice, Italy

In an abandoned alleyway, a cyclone of flame appeared in a flash then disappeared to reveal the warlock unharmed; Ricendithas had arrived. He looked around to examine his surroundings: Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet. It was a little unnerving that he would be so exposed, especially given how he stood out. But the Hunters were a well-known organization to the public; for many it was a ray of hope that they would be able to exterminate the beasts that preyed on mortal flesh and blood. And Ricendithas would certainly uphold to that. Giving his body a quick dust-off of some of the ash that had resulted from his teleportation spell, he then walked out of the alley and onto the busy streets. There was certainly a lot of ground to cover, and given that nothing was known about the target...He had to operate under the assumption that he'd been found out already, so walking in broad daylight would not be a problem. Plus, it might even work to lure the bastard out into the open. "Better get started then" he muttered, pulling the hood of his cloak over his face as he then followed the number of pedestrians that traversed the cobbled paths of Venice.
 
The hotel room was just one crown molding shy of being extravagant. Selena rolled over in the enormous, king size bed and tried to ignore the tickle at the back of her mind that indicated someone was trying to reach her telepathically. With a groan, she sat up, pushing the silk sheets aside and exposing, slim tanned legs and curvy hips. Her dark hair was a mess of tangles from her fun the night before, still sleeping soundly beside her on the bed. She knew she should feel guilty about not remembering his name but in reality she really did not care at all.

Sliding out of the bed she padded, barefoot across the room, clad in a pair of black lace panties and a matching camisole, to the disgustingly ornate desk. A large laptop was sitting on top of it amid a pile of scattered paperwork. Being a delegate for Cassandra had its perks but it also had plenty of downsides, like a 7am wake up call inside your head. She flicked open the computer and brought up the e-mail that was surely waiting for her, though it was not from who she expected.

The moment she opened the laptop the irritating tickle went away, whoever had wanted her to get this message and succeeded in getting her attention. Selena frowned at the short message, her green’s gazing off into nothing for several seconds after. One of Cassandra’s spies in Venice had spotted a Hunter, that had seemingly arrived out of no where. Something about the description nagged at her but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She tapped out a quick message in reply.

Keep watch. Do not engage. Report any changes.
-S.Michel​

A hunter in Venice could cause some problems. Selena had been in Italy seeking investors and securing a few trade agreements for Cassandra along with some negotiating among the local Coven. She wracked her brain trying to recall if anyone here knew who she worked for, one thing she had ensured was to cover up any and all connection that led directly back to the Baroness. Before shutting the laptop again she very quickly typed a message to the Steward at the Sarova estates, letting him know about the sighting. No need to bother Cassandra with something as petty as a hunter. If only she could shake that nagging feeling in her gut...
 
Ricendithas continued to walk down the street, keeping his eyes peeled to see if anyone made him like he thought they did; of course, it was stupid to think that they would be so blatantly obvious in gawking at him. No, that duty seemed to be reserved for most of the civilians; of course, he knew his manner of dress was far different from the standard civilian outfit. And naturally humans were going to stare; he even saw a gaggle of teenage girls looking at him and giggling out of the corner of his eye, obviously whispering about how stupid he looked even though they tried to use their hands to hide it.

But that didn't really concern him; he could feel someone's eyes on him, but so far he couldn't make out what it was. He only knew one thing for certain: He was being followed. "Guess I was right...Someone made me already. Confirms that theory at least" the warlock mused mentally; given that this thing had acquired so much land, it was pretty clear to assume that they had spies. A lot of them, stationed at points within the kingdom; though Ricendithas had assumed there were spies outside the boundary, and this confirmed it. But now he had to weed out the stalker and see if it knew anything about the mastermind behind this strangely silent conquest, or at the very least point him in the direction of someone higher up in the food chain.

What Ric didn't take into account was the fact that seemingly ordinary people too worked for this mysterious conqueror; in fact, a man had been following him for the past few blocks now, watching the strangely dressed man's every move. Dressed in more civilian clothes to help him blend in, this particular male didn't know why this Hunter was here; however, he was still baffled he'd made it so easy to spot him. Well, at least this one was direct; wherever Hunters went though, trouble wasn't far behind. Dark eyes peered from behind sunglasses as he pretended to work on his laptop, having just sent a message after his recent attempt to contact her telepathically didn't seem to get through. Damn that woman and her mental wards; though he supposed it was necessary for someone of her position. But he finally he got his reply; however, he would be lying if he said it wasn't disappointing.

Keep watch. Do not engage. Report any changes.
-S.Michel

A small grimace formed at seeing those words; though he supposed there was some caution that was needed. He didn't really know all that much about Hunters, if he were being honest with himself; however, the things they would do when they caught a 'beast', as they called it. The fact was Hunters were cunning, strong, and surprisingly well-equipped to neutralize threats. Regardless, he was currently seated at a cafe across the street and watched as the cloak-clad man walked past a small barber shop; typing a quick reply into his own laptop as he watched the Hunter sit down at another cafe across the street,

-Affirmative. Target seated at cafe, doesn't appear to notice much. Will update as necessary ~A. Dusek-​

Shutting his own laptop closed, he was soon approached by a waiter, where he ordered another coffee. Now all that could be played was the waiting game. Though part of him wondered why a Hunter was here in Venice in the first place; there hadn't been many reports of supernatural occurrences. Some skinwalkers, a spectre or two. All handled by the local Hunter branches. And this one...Was clearly not from the area. So what was he doing here? Maybe if he probed his mind...Discreetly, of course.

Ricendithas himself had sat down to give a quick sweep of his surroundings; what few realized was that his power of perception was rivaled by few and surpassed by even fewer. Events in his past had granted him an ability of sight that came at great personal cost, but it was something that he used in his endeavors to cleanse the planet of the monstrous scourge. The only downside was that it only worked against the truly unclean, and not those who might have been coerced. And as he discreetly looked around, he could find nothing; he knew there was something there, but he couldn't tell. At least not until he felt the tingle at the cervical vertebrae; someone was trying to read his thoughts. That was a mistake.

For a few minutes, the man watching Ricendithas was trying to reach deeper; it seemed this one had powerful mental shields as well. And they were good ones too; however, he would slowly feel his reach getting deeper and deeper. Unaware of the trap that he was walking into, and that it was all just a honeypot. When he reached a certain depth, Ricendithas sprang his trap; the spy felt his whole body seize up in exactly the position he'd been in: Calm and relaxed, his eyes peering down the street as if waiting. "I don't know who you are or where you are, but you should know better. Any telepath worth his salt would be more discrete than that" he then heard a voice say in his mind.
 
The voice sent an icy tendril of fear down the man’s back, he had not sensed the trap until he was well and truly ensnared in it. Unable to move or speak, he thrashed mentally against the hold like a rabbit in a snare. It was a pathetically and surprisingly weak attempt to escape. The sudden fear he had of this man drove him to carelessness and he desperately attempted to contact Selena, sending a single message out on a spear of thought. ‘Help, cover blown.’

He realized almost immediately that the thought simply rebounded back on him, the echo of the returning message causing a blinding headache. Forcing himself to calm down enough to think straight he considered the situation. There was nothing he could do until the warlock released him so he turned his attention to his captor. ‘Why are you here hunter, there is nothing for you to kill in Venice.’ Dusek tried to make it sound superior, commanding but the fear was evident. As he waited for the reply he gently probed at the trap, seeking any weak points that he could try to crack through.

One of the reasons Dusek was an effective spy was his ability to withstand mental attacks, so while he was trapped and terrified by this fact, it would take a lot more than a snare to beat him. He continued to prod at the barriers around his mind no longer caring if the warlock could sense what he was doing, it hardly mattered at this point.

****

The laptop made a soft blip as new message came through. Dusek updating her on the whereabouts of the hunter. She tabbed over to her e-mail and popped open the message, it was short but it was all she required.

-Affirmative. Target seated at cafe, doesn't appear to notice much. Will update as necessary ~A. Dusek-

Selena frowned in thought. ‘Doesn’t appear to notice much...’ That certainly didn’t sound like any hunter she had ever encountered. Her eyes widened a fraction. Dusek wouldn’t be that much of a fool would he. She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Yes, he probably would, he always was a bit too confident in his abilities.

Focusing inwardly, she sent out a wisp thin tendril of thought to the spy and immediately recoiled with a hiss. The moment she got close she could feel something tugging at her, trying to pull her into whatever trap the spy currently found himself in. There was little she could do for him at this point. If she went in search him, the hunter may find her and that certainly wasn’t going to happen today.

Sighing she sent out a second message to the Steward.

Start looking for new spy. Dusek compromised.
-S.Michel
Almost immediately her e-mail dinged again with a response.

Eliminate the threat.​

Selena sighed upon seeing the words. The Steward never bothered with a signature, he didn’t need to. He was essentially the most powerful human in Cassandra’s employ. He had no abilities, no actual power but he was 100% loyal to the Baroness and ruthless in protecting her. Someone else might have read the message and interpreted it as ‘kill the the person threatening the spy’ but no, Walter wanted her to kill Dusek. If he was compromised he was no longer useful to their cause and they could not risk him somehow leading a hunter back to Selena.

The witch rose to her feet and began dressing, dragging her feet a bit. This was her least favourite part of the job but it was necessary, to protect everything they had all worked so hard for. She pulled on a cream coloured pencil skirt, and forest green blouse that complimented her eyes. A few pieces of gold jewellery that flattered her colouring and a pair of strappy heeled sandals. She could have been any number of rich tourists leaving the hotel which is exactly the role she was playing while in Venice. Before leaving she slipped a small, thin dagger into the large purse. The blade was tipped in poison provided by the vampire witch Lilliana. Her poisons were lethally effective.

Lastly she pulled out a map of the city and a small scrying crystal, letting it swing over the map as she focused on her intended target. The crystal stuck to the map with a soft thud, pointing to a cafe not two blocks from the hotel. ‘What a waste...' She mused to herself. 'He wasn't a half bad spy...' Leaving the room and meandering through the streets towards the cafe.
 
Ricendithas waited patiently, feeling him try to sever the cord between their minds; even if Ricendithas couldn't actually use psionic abilities to directly affect a person's mind, being able to trace back where someone was mentally probing him from was a skill he'd learned over the years. Unfortunately though, despite the ease of falling into his honey well, this little bee was quite clever and managed to shield himself quite effectively. But that didn't mean this was a total waste; if he was being probed, the warlock could only conclude that this was the person he thought was following him.

"You really shouldn't struggle, you know; wouldn't want to give yourself an aneurysm or anything like that" the warlock stated flatly, feeling his captive thrash against his bings. But then the intruder seemed to try to reach out to someone in particular; one unfortunate effect of the trap Ricendithas used was that any attempts to reach out would immediately rebound on the user. It was great because they couldn't call for help, but bad because he couldn't then try to find who it was the victim was reaching out to. A slight twinge shot through the warlock's body as the headache caused from the rebound hit the spy, causing Ricendithas to add "I warned you".

"Why I'm here, you ask. Simple...There may not be anything here in Venice, but what I am looking does not appear to have complete control of this area. Its stench covers the land in darkness, prohibiting all means of entrance through arcane measures. But here's what's going to happen: Since you were obviously keen on finding out what I know, I'm going to ask you some questions. And you're going to answer them. Are we clear?". Ricendithas heard a sneer echo in his mind, the reply being "Never....I will never betray the Baroness! You hunters are scum. You are so blind and self-righteous that you have no concept of consequence of your actions". "Ah, so it's a she, is it? Tell me more about her" the warlock replied, ignoring the - admittedly eloquent - insult. Aurel snarled, "Go to hell" and tried further to release himself from the bind.

Ricendithas let out a sigh, "Based on your responses, I can tell this thing..." "She is not a thing, you bastard! She's a loving and caring woman who loves her people! Now be silent and release me! I have nothing to say to you further". At this a rather sadistic smirk crossed the warlock's face, "Oh, but I think you do; you just need some convincing is all. Tell me something...What's your take on alchemy?" Across the street the spy was utterly confused and could only reply "The hell does that have to do with anything?" "More than you realize. The body is an amazing device; but like every device it has weak points and vulnerabilities. For instance...The human body contains about sixty percent water on average. It's a vital component of our being, something that permeates every inch of our physical form. Yet we don't often realize how badly it can hurt us".

He then paused for a moment, looking up to the sky in apparent contemplation before continuing, "The most water rich sources in our bodies lies in the organs, brain and bone marrow. Now, the brain is little more than a computer, a means to act based on data provided to it. However, even it can be overloaded despite a user's resilience to certain external stimuli. The organs and marrow on the other hand...They depend on the brain to feed it instructions and will send out an alarm if something is wrong. For instance...If it begins to experience thermal stress. Water itself boils at about one hundred degrees...or 212 if you go by the Fahrenheit standard". The spy froze up; what the hell was this guy talking about? The answer soon became apparent when he felt his body heat begin to rise; what the hell was going on?

At this Ricendithas continued "The funny thing about water...It can take on a surprising amount of heat for even the littlest bit of it; it's why cooking pasta or steaming vegetables is such a pain. But once that capacity is exceeded, it vaporizes. And as I'm sure you know, the human body is a closed system for the most part. So...What'll likely happen first is that you'll sweat. A natural response to cool the body down; however, the heat will then spread deeper, boiling the water inside your muscle tissue. And finally, your bones will crack and splinter as the marrow begins to boil over. Have you ever felt a bone fracture like that before? Seen one? It's a nasty process; one can only imagine how much that will hurt. But I suppose you'll tell me soon enough, won't you? I might not be able to find you...But that doesn't mean I can't hurt you".
 
Dusek could feel his body heating as the warlock applied heat inside his body, the pain quickly building to agony. He wanted to scream with pain but like the rest of his body his vocal chords were paralyzed by the snare. His entire body shook with the suppressed howl of pain that was desperately trying to escape him. People nearby were beginning to glance at him with concern. “Stop please!” He wailed inside his own mind. Sure he had promised his silence and he knew the penalty for giving up any of what he knew but he had not been trained to withstand this kind of torture.

Even with his brain addled by the pain, he suspected Selena was probably already looking into what happened. If there was any inkling at all he was compromised she would find him and kill him. There had been no secrets regarding this, he had stupidly believed he could handle anything thrown at him but this, this was on a whole other level of pain and cruelty. If there was any merciful god out there, Selena would put him out of his misery before it got much worse. “At least my mistress kills quickly and without pain.” He screamed at the warlock. “She shows compassion, whose the real monster here!!” He howled, an edge of hysterics creeping into his tone.

***

Selena arrived on the scene shortly before the warlock had begun his gruesome torture of the spy. She was currently standing outside a used bookshop beside the cafe where Aurel was seated, sitting completely rigid and rapidly growing redder. She was not sure what was being done to the man but it was beginning to draw the attention of the civilians around him. As his body started to shake, appearing as if he were having some sort of convulsion Selena murmured a spell under her breath. A glamour shimmered into existence hiding the the spy behind the image of the same man, though he was sitting contently sipping a latte and flipping the pages of a book.

As soon as the glamour settled into place, the people around him blinked instantly forgetting the distressed person that had been there seconds ago. Humans were so easily deceived, as long as all seemed well, they assumed it was. It was a very annoying trait in her race, which was in part why Selena was often so cynical and seemingly uncaring.

She scanned the crowds around her trying to pinpoint the well of burning power she could feel funneling into Dusek. This hunter was a powerful warlock indeed if she had to be this close to feel how great his power was. Moving with a group as they left the bookshop, she made her way to the cafe, digging in her purse as she walked as if looking for change for a drink. Dusek was seated with his back to the small walkway that led inside the building and as she passed his chair she pretended to trip, going over on one of the heels and grabbing the back of his to balance herself and graciously waving away offers of help with a charming smile.

When her hand grabbed the chair, she stabbed the thin dagger into his back. “I’m sorry.” She whispered softly, quickly putting the weapon back in her purse as she straightened and continued into the cafe her cheeks slightly red. She hoped the redness looked like the embarrassment of a woman caught doing something silly in public, in reality it was from the intense heat she felt off of the spies body when she got close. As an afterthought she murmured one more soft spell. A trap for the warlock should he try to track the killer of his victim, or the poison used to do the job. It was a nasty little curse that would cause two or three days of intense pain depending on the strength of the person who triggered it.

Purchasing her drink in a take out cup, she continued on her way, leaving Aurel’s body hidden behind the glamour. She would send out a team to retrieve the body once she got back to the hotel if it was still there at least.

***

Dusek barely felt the pin prick of pain as the dagger slid into his body, though he did hear Selena’s whispered apology and smiled inwardly. The agony from the warlock almost completely masked the tiny stab. He gave a soft sigh of relief as the poison spread through his body. This was designed specifically for those loyal to the Baroness, it gave a sense of calm and peace and acted as a potent pain reliever even as it shut the body down. In seconds Aurel was no more, the link between him and the warlock abruptly severed. The spy’s last thought was relief that he had not divulged anything about Selena. He had known nothing of where the Baroness lived having only ever had contact with the witch. Despite his stupidity at being compromised Selena had shown him mercy just as the Baroness would. The moment the link broke, Aurel smiled, passing with a happy expression that he had done his duty.
 
"Just tell me what you know and I'll ease your pain...It's really quite simple" Ricendithas replied coolly; at this point, a well-dressed waiter walked up and asked for his order. The warlock just ordered a simple coffee, two sugars, even as the man continued to struggle against the binds. "You know, all of this can be avoided. Tell me what you know...And a cold wave of relief will just wash over you" he then added, sitting back in the cafe chair completely oblivious to the man across from him. And even when his eyes traced over to where the spy sat, all he could see was another person sitting there also enjoying a coffee and reading, without a care in the world.

"You can justify your Mistress' actions till you're blue in the face; she's been responsible for a lot of my friends being killed or god knows what. And don't forget that you were the one who probed me; you brought this on yourself" he then replied to the man's statement of his cruel tactics; truthfully, he didn't care. Anyone willingly allied with this monster would be treated as such and interrogated. The waiter then returned with his coffee, to which Ricendithas stated "Gratzi" and the waiter gave a small bow and left to tend to the other customers. "I'm waiting...You don't want to make me show you how cruel I can really be, do you?" he simply replied, taking a sip of the smooth black liquid. However, Ricendithas would never get a response to this for soon he felt the connection forcibly sever itself; what the hell, he thought. The man was in an exceptionally powerful psionic snare; no way he would have been able to sever that. "Not without help, anyway" Ricendithas concluded; setting down his cup, he gave a quick look around but didn't need to look too far. The man that had been sitting there drinking his coffee and reading now lay dead in his seat; yet there was no panic, no bustle to call an ambulance and no gaggle of bystanders gaping at the corpse like turkeys in the rain. "What in Gaia's name...." he muttered; he knew this was no illusion, for the backlash of his snare coated the body in a layer of invisible fire that he knew only he could see.

There was one area the fire didn't touch though; something that struck him as peculiar. "So he didn't break the connection...Someone broke it for him" the warlock mused; at least now he knew he was close. Somebody didn't want the man to talk, and so he was killed for silence. One thing was for certain: Ricendithas needed to investigate, but he didn't want to go near the body lest the killer still be watching. Luckily, his power of fire magic would grant a certain ability of perception; Ricendithas closed his eyes and voided his mind of thought, mentally speaking the tongue of old magic to become the flame that now encased the victim's body. And then he found himself in an ethereal form, his consciousness partitioned between his physical form and the flame. It wasn't something he did often, but right now it was necessary to prevent detection and maintain anonymity as much as possible. Of course, his choice of attire didn't really help with that but it would be difficult to prove who he was if no one saw him doing anything. His mind's eye looked over the dead man's form, searching for any abnormalities; he soon stumbled upon a small wound in the main's trapezius muscle, right near the third thoracic vertebrae. Whoever did this was a professional and must have known the man was here previously. He also picked up a faint residual signature; looking further he saw the wound wasn't deep enough to be fatal. "Poison" Ricendithas mumbled; someone had to have handled the poison to inject it, so that meant that particular individual could be tracked.

However, right as he attempted to analyze the signature, he was soon overcome with an extreme shock of painful backwave; the connection between himself and the fire was forcibly severed and his eyes shot open. He quickly managed to regain his composure, but his little outburst did not unnoticed by the waiter who came rushing to his side. Asking what was wrong in Italian, Ricendithas replied he took too big of a sip and had chestburn. This explanation seemed to somewhat placate the man, and after more reassurance that he was fine, Ricendithas asked for the check stating he had somewhere he needed to be. Paying the tab and leaving a tip, he gingerly made his way out of the cafe. God, the pain was excruciating; it took all his effort just to walk normally and keep a straight face. He needed somewhere to sleep this off and let his body cool down, but he didn't know how far it was to a hotel where he could sit for a night or two He was fucked in eight different ways and he knew it and it pissed him off. "You fucking amateur..." the warlock scolded himself; to have his own trap turned against him. That was an insult, and he would find whoever did this and make them pay for it.

Ricendithas then made a turn down an abandoned alleyway; no foot traffic, which was good. Going into a pocket of his cloak, he pulled out the map his employer gave him: On it there were several circles, indicating cheap hotels from the looks of it. Ricendithas brought a hand up to wipe the sweat from his brow; he really just needed to lie down, or else he was going to pass out. The pain didn't subside, in fact it seemed to get worse. Taking a slight breath to steady himself, the warlock folded the map back up and after putting it back into his pocket, followed the streets until he arrived at the Frari Basilica. He then looked to down the road to see what appeared to be a motel of sorts; following it further, he saw the sign to read "Albergo San Pantalon". "That'll work; right where the map said it would be" he commented dryly; making his way there, he checked to make sure he wasn't being followed and went inside. It was a quaint little establishment, having the appearance of an old-world church but after asking for a price on a single room for two nights - that was his estimate for what he needed to recover - he found that to his luck there was one available and that he could check in immediately. Handing over two hundred euros, he then followed the housekeeper to his room and after giving her a tip of five euros, went inside and immediately crashed on the bed. His body still writhed from the agony, but at least here he could tell he was safe. But he still made sure not to make too much noise; didn't need to draw attention to himself after all.
 
Selena was almost back to her hotel when she felt her curse trigger, she stopped mid stride and chewed her lip in thought. Now would be a perfect opportunity to find out who this hunter was and possibly eliminate him for good. The fact that he had activated the curse told her two things. Either he was confident and powerful enough the pain wouldn’t kill him or he was incredibly amateur.

She could feel the curse, it would lead her straight to him if she followed it now...but that would risk putting herself in his clutches and that was something she could not risk. With a sigh,she continued into the hotel heading straight for the laptop to arrange for a street team to pick up the body.

Cassandra’s clean up crews were efficient and effective at what they did and there were teams scattered all around the world. The closest was currently finishing up a job in Rome, Selena couldn’t even begin to guess what a street team would need to clean up in Rome and quite honestly she didn’t want to know. Some of Cassandra’s ventures did not go as smoothly as the one in Venice was. The Baroness was known for ruthlessly removing any threats or competitors in her quest for land, money or titles.

The team notified her they would arrive late that night to dispose of the spy’s body. Her glamour should hold up until than, adjusting to make it look the seat was empty after a suitable period of time. Selena, like many of the witches in the employ of the Baroness, was a very talented and creative spell caster. Cassandra had a talent for finding those with superior abilities that would aid her cause. Selena had been working for the vampiress for at least 7 years now, quickly securing a position as one of her best financial delegates, as well as one of the best witches with illusion spellcraft.

She walked out onto the stone balcony attached to her room and faced the direction where the curse pulsed like a beacon. Leaning on the railing, she watched as the sun slid towards the horizon, bathing Venice in a deep orange glow. With a soft ‘tch’ she straightened and padded back into the room, changing into a pair of black jeans and glittering halter top. She quickly pinned her hair up and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. From savvy business woman to sexy party girl in under five minutes. Her curiosity was eating at her, she had to know who this hunter was, the nagging feeling that she recognized the power when she had been close to it was even stronger now.

It didn’t take her long to track the curse to a nearby motel, still quite lovely though nothing like the swanky, upscale hotel she was residing in. Made sense if a hunter wanted to lay low to stay at one of the quieter places. She had intended only to locate the building and send in a familiar but it was just too alluring. Knowing he was just within her reach. She pulled a small pill out of her pocket and stared at it for a moment. Another one of Lilliana’s concoctions. This one would render her unconscious and in a death like state until she could be retrieved. Her own inner barriers were keyed to the drug so the moment it touched her tongue they would lock anyone who tried to break inside her mind out. It of course left her in an incredibly vulnerable state where anyone could simply slit her throat and be done with it but at the very least she would feel no pain and divulge nothing.

She wandered into the motel, murmuring a greeting to the girl at the desk. She leaned on the counter and gave the girl a friendly smile, politely asking about an odd looking gentleman, giving the impression that she was here for a special meeting. Selena had no idea how the hunter would be dressed but the often had peculiar taste in clothing to say the least, so it was safe bet the vague description would be more than enough for the desk agent. The young woman gave a knowing smile and wrote down a room number for her, humans were so foolish, it sometimes hurt to remember she was technically still a part of their race.

The room number wasn’t really necessary. The curse drew her right to him. She could feel the power from him emanating from the room and it made her suck in a breath with surprise. She knew she should walk away from this right now, it was suicide to risk her mission in such a reckless fashion. Even as the thought crossed her mind, a whispered spell caused the door to unlock and open a fraction of inch. Casting a quick look in either direction she pushed it open and entered the room, her thin dagger already clutched in one fist. Her choice was made and there was no turning back now.
 
Ricendithas' body continued to squirm as he laid on his back on the bed; his own inherent tolerance for pain was definitely helping, but what kind of person cast a spell like this? They must have been strong to make him of all people feel this much pain. If he had the patience and the clarity of mind, he probably would have applauded to a degree the skill of the curse; Ricendithas considered himself well-versed in detecting enemy traps, but that one was quite splendidly done. Even if part of it could be blamed on him not thinking about it being there, it was still a spell nicely cast. Of course, that wasn't exactly where his mind currently; no, his thoughts more toed the line of what would happen to whatever did this.

Unfortunately, his own single-mindedness on working through the pain and finding a new course of action left him sloppy; normally if he was injured this badly, anti-tracking sigils would have been burned into the walls to give him more leeway. And he probably would have done after a few more minutes, but sadly it seemed Fate would not give him the time he needed to prepare. His ears caught the ever-so-small squeak of the door opening, making him freeze in place. "Ah, shit!" he shouted mentally; ok, this was fine. Maybe someone heard him groaning...But then he heard the sound of quickened footsteps and the door being flung open.

Without even thinking, he flung himself off the bed and spun around to glance a woman holding a dagger; so much for the person in question being a concerned citizen, he thought. Forcing himself to disregard the agony that still wracked his form, his hands turned to face palm-up before balls of yellow-orange fire erupted; he then shoved them both forward, causing the orbs of flame to ahead at the ground surrounding the feet of the this new arrival and form a circle.

Now trapped, Ricendithas then had a plume of erupt detonate behind the door and slam it closed; now it was just the two of them. And to prevent any further distractions, the warlock scanned the room and after finding the sprinkler, shot a fireball that caused it to melt and sear itself shut. The effort concluded for now, Ricendithas' form slumped, his breathing heavy as he now refocused more on trying to suppress the pain that coursed through his body. His uncovered green looked back to the woman before him; she seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't recall from where. Standing up a little straighter, he then stated "Look...Not exactly in the greatest mood right now. So here's what going to happen...You're going to tell me who you are, and I'll consider not turning you into a steaming lump of coal. And before you try to deny anything...That dagger tells me you're not here for friendly conversation".
 
Mentally, the flaming attack sent her reeling, outwardly she gave the warlock a calm and relaxed smile. She put one hand on her hip and idly examined her nails with one heel crossed over the other, she looked completely at her ease. She peered around at the fire as if it were only a minor inconvenience before turning her emerald eyes on the injured warlock. “Darling, you look absolutely miserable.” Selena murmured with a charming smile, though the iciness in her eyes should have frozen the flames in place.

The fire around her feet kept her from moving anywhere and already she could feel a fine sheen of sweat cover her skin from the heat. She had no reason to lie about her name and the more honest she appeared the less he would question it. Something about his strange appearance continued to tickle at her memory, like the annoying buzz of a mosquito just out of her reach but glaringly obvious. “My name is Selena, I am member of the witches Coven in Italy.” She replied in a friendly, conversational tone. “The curse you are afflicted with drew me here.” Selena said, tilting her head to regard him. “I could remove it if you like.” She added with a wry smile. None of this was a lie and none of it alluded to her other reasons for being here.

She was impressed that he could even cast a spell, let alone stand with the amount of pain the curse caused. His power must be great indeed to hold up under that kind of stress. “I know you.” Selena stated abruptly, the impression that she knew this man only growing stronger by the second. She racked her brain trying to remember when something finally came crashing into place. “You helped me kill a gorgon in Greece.” Selena stated with a sudden widening of her green eyes. “It was terrorizing my home town…” Terrorizing was not the right term, decimating might be better. The monster had wiped out half of her village including her younger brother and her father before it was killed by herself and the warlock standing before her.

Now that she was aware of why he seemed so familiar, she was desperately wishing she had not come here. If there was one hunter that might succeed in finding the Baroness it was this one. He was ruthless, efficient and showed no mercy to monsters in the world. She had witnessed some of the things he could do in his relentless goal to eliminate all the dangerous beings of the world. Even when he had helped save her village she had gotten the distinct impression that the warlock was exceedingly single-minded. He had no empathy for the non human races and no desire to learn about them, despite many of them actually wishing to live peacefully with the human race. He had talked very little of what drove him but anyone with that sort of intensity had a personal reason and she had not persisted in finding out what that was.

“Why are you here?” She asked, her voice much more sincere now. “There have been no sightings of monsters in Venice for a long time.”
 
Ricendithas just stared at the woman; he wasn't a great reader of body language, so he saw no indication that his attack had fazed her in the slightest. A bit of a let-down; then again, couldn't expect them all to beg for mercy. And besides, he had her trapped and that alone brought him satisfaction. Her mutter did not escape his ears, however, and the satisfied smirk was soon replaced with an expression of annoyance. "Don't patronize me, woman" he growled; a slight wave of agony and lightheadedness from the exertion almost made him stumble, a hand coming up to hold the side of his head as his brows twitched. How was this curse able to affect him so?

Gaining a better focus, he steadied himself again and looked at the woman; damn it, where did he see her before? And when she spoke her name, that made the sense of familiarity grow ever stronger. But the fact that she was trying to speak with him in a casual tone, despite her coming at him with a weapon, irked him. "I care not who you are...And even if you did want to remove this curse, I doubt you would. Your kind don't exactly like me too much. Now tell me what it is you want" the warlock shot back, agitation heavy in his voice.

His surprise then showed when Selena commented on knowing him, clarifying it further when she spoke of a Gorgon. Now he knew her: That little annoyance that tried to take his kill, the thing he'd worked so damn hard to track. And in the end, he needed her help in pinning it down anyway. After they'd fought it off and injured it, the two of them went to its lair and killed the beast. Of course...What Ricendithas did to it would probably have made even the hardest soul shudder in horror, but then again his hatred of monsters ran deeper than most could even fathom.

Putting that aside for the moment, he then answered her next question, "Sightings, no. But a darkness spreads across the lands north of here, one that prevents use of the arcane to travel to those lands. This is one area the shroud has yet to envelop, so I used it to my advantage". Honestly, he had nothing to hide; it was always his point to make his intentions well known. More often than not, it made the target that much easier to identify. "Your turn now. Why did you come for me? I have no quarrel with the Coven located here, and it would be best for you not to give me a reason to have one".
 
Years of practice in sales kept Selena’s face smooth as he explained his reasons for being here. So he was searching for Cassandra. He was searching North which meant he had yet to get a direction for where the Baroness was located, that was interesting to know. Hearing his last comment her lips curved in another smile. “I told you, the curse drew me, I was curious how someone could upset the Coven quite so...drastically.” She mused, her lips pursed. “I wasn’t about to come barging in here unprotected.” She added with a small frown. “Would you have?” Selena asked looking into his face with a serious expression, her eyes searching his one visible eye.

***

Mesanagros, Greece - April 1958

Selena leaned against the edge of one of the quaint little buildings that dotted her home village. Coming home from University had been both terrible and incredible timing. A witch in the Coven near her school had warned her of a disastrous event that was going to befall her home and Selena had raced home to protect her family, only to discover the ‘disaster’ was a monster.

The gorgon was slowly killing off the men in the village. Not only did the beast feed off of the males in the area but she turned the women to stone, and the men once she was finished with them. Selena had seen the creature devour her father, dropping the stone form on the ground when it had sensed her presence. Her father had smashed into a hundred pieces, looking like the ruins of an ancient statue. When the gorgon had slunk away looking for its next target, Selena had walked to the rubble in a daze dropping to her knees and picking up the only still whole piece of the statue, a piece of her father’s face a confused smile still on his lips.

The rest of the town did not look much better. Instead of the lovely little tourist area it was, it looked like statues had risen up and begun a war. There were broken stone forms scattered all over town, but the most eerie ones were the statues of people who were still whole. Still in the middle of some mundane task. One woman had been turned to stone in the middle of hanging her laundry out, one hand forever poised to place a clothespin on the line. Another had been sitting in the sun reading a book, while two children played beside her in the grass.

What struck Selena odd about the whole thing, is that everyone seemed so calm and unsuspecting. They had never seen it coming, you would think a giant, snake woman would instill some fear and panic but there was none, as if it wore the face of someone trusted. As she sat cradling what was left of her father against her chest, that is when she saw him, walking through the rubble of her town. She felt a surge of anger, he was here to kill the beast but it was personal now. She would personally destroy that monster and she didn’t need some trumped up hunter to help her.

Now, with her back pressed against the wall, and the monster slithering closer, she was reconsidering her choice to fight it alone. She knew the basic lore behind the gorgon and had managed to wound it but it kept on coming. It was exceedingly difficult to fight something you couldn’t look at. Her heart hammered in her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut as it came around the corner of the house. She could hear its soft, victorious laugh as it loomed over her. Felt it touch her arm almost affectionately. “Come little witch…” It crooned. “Open your pretty eyes for me…”
 
Mesanagros, Greece - April 1958

"Monster: Gorgon. Kill by decapitation .Sever her head and burn the corpse" was all the man said as he traveled; he was reminding himself of what to do for this particular monster. He'd caught wind of a beast that was terrifying towns all across Greece. At first he thought perhaps a Minotaur or a Lamia, as those were common beasts born of an unholy union that plagued this area of the world. But no, here was a Lamia's cousin - at least, that would be the closest filial classification - the Gorgon. The ancient monster whose gaze turned all who looked into its eyes to stone; though what people didn't know was that this was something the Gorgon race had developed as means of catching easy prey.

Along with a remarkable ability to take a human guise, this made them a troublesome predator to track; however, it seemed an attack was still ongoing. Finally, after all this time of trying to catch up to the damn thing he was going to murder it in place. And as he came through the town, he saw the demon in all its horrific glory: A giant lower body of a massive serpent, its hair comprised entirely of snakes and its skin composed almost wholly of green, shining scales. It was slithering toward a house, its unseen eyes focused intently on the half-destroyed structure; it had found someone hiding. And as he got closer, he saw a young woman huddled in the corner; that must have been the Gorgon's prey. And then he heard those terrible words as the creature descended on its soon-to-be victim:

“Come little witch…Open your pretty eyes for me”

Now Ricendithas had no delusions of himself being a hero; in fact he knew of plenty who spoke of him as being just as much of a monster as the things he hunted. But that didn't matter to him; no, his vendetta against anything non-human was driven by personal matters. Anyone he saved was a 'happy accident'. As he stepped up his pace, fire collecting over his hand as words of an old tongue fell from his mouth, the Gorgon's forked tongue whipped out and tasted a new presence. Before she could turn around to face him, a massive bolt of flame caught her in the chest, hurling her backwards through several houses. "You damn monsters...When will you learn that humans are off-limits?" he then spoke as he stood next to the witch, an unnatural rage present in his voice as his eyes were kept firmly shut. The Gorgon rose from the rubble, hissing furiously and baring the long fangs characteristic of its kind, “Human ssssssscum...Your worship of your falsssssse godssssssss made usss thissss way".

Ricendithas' fist clenched, the fire growing to encase his whole arm as his body tensed, "Your petty justification for your actions falls on deaf ears, beast. Your death will be a slow one!" Whipping aside the cape portion of his cloak, a hip sheath could be seen carrying a rather impressive blade; his fiery hand grasped the hilt and pulled it from its cover, its length coming alive with bright fire as he brought it before him. “The only one who will die isssss you, mortal!" the Gorgon hissed before charging the warlock with ungodly speed; it then twisted its form and tried to slam the warlock with the mass of muscle, but Ricendithas ducked and swung his own blade. The flame-engulfed length cut into the side of the 'stomach' of the Gorgon's human portion, forcing a scream of pain to rip out from its throat as the heat burned its skin. In a fit of reflexive anger, its tail came back around and this time caught the warlock in the chest; now it was his turn to be flung. His body went through a house and several of the petrified people, shattering them all to rubble as the Gorgon pursued him. The warlock tried to push himself from the rubble but soon found the monster's serpent length ensnaring him and starting to constrict. The only limb free was his sword arm, something he used to his advantage as he plunged the fiery blade deep into the muscular coils; the Gorgon screamed again in agony but did not relent.

She then grabbed his arm and wrenched it hard, forcing him to release his grip on the blade as she then brought up the last bit of her tail and held his free arm down. His body was trapped and before he could start speaking again to cast another spell, the Gorgon started strangling him to silence. “Not again, mortal; I think onccce I kill you, I'll hibernate for a while. Let my meal digesst.....And you will die knowing you failed, hehehahaha" the Gorgon mocked, confident in her victory as she increased the pressure on both his body and throat.
 
Selena felt the heat of the fire as the warlock knocked the Gorgon back and away from her. A heat so intense it raised the hairs on her arms and caused sweat to pop out on her skin. She kept her eyes firmly closed until she heard the Gorgon charge the man, the second she knew its attention was elsewhere her eyes popped open. As she peered cautiously around the corner of the building she watched, almost mesmerized as the warlock unsheathed a flaming sword and sliced into the belly of the monsters.

Not to be deterred the creature flung him through a building. Selena winced as she heard crash the walls and stone bodies alike. As the Gorgon descended on him, Selena bounced to her feet and raced towards the building. She ran through her limited knowledge of magic, the Coven had only begun to teach her the more complicated spells so she had little to work with at this time. Her best option was to get the warlock free and hope he wasn’t injured too badly to finish this fight.

As she climbed through the hole in the wall something caught her attention, the sun shimmering off the edge of something sticking out of the pile of rubble. Digging it out Selena discovered a large silver serving platter, oddly unscathed in the damage. Grinning to herself she hefted the tray and followed the sound of the monsters hissing tones. Hoping its attention was completely focused on the warlock, she risked a peek around the corner.

The warlock was coiled in the Gorgon’s tail as the monster laughed almost manically at its success. Clearly it had nothing to fear from what it perceived to be little better than a child witchling, despite Selena being in her early twenties. Using one of the most basic of basic spells, she levitated the tray and dropped it in front of the Gorgon’s face. Just has she hoped the reflective surface surprised the slithering woman. The monster shrieked in fear and recoiled, snapping her eyes closed.

When the creature lurched away from the shield, it dropped the warlock on the ground and tried to flee. Selena dove for the blade that was laying on the ground, hoping it didn’t suddenly light on fire like she had seen before. The weapon felt awkward and clumsy in her hands but it was still sharp and pointy, enough to do what she needed. As the creature slithered away she drove the blade straight in about four feet up the tail, hard enough it stuck into the ground. The Gorgon, too intent on getting away, didn’t immediately register the sudden stab of pain, her own moment carrying her forward several more feet. Just long enough that she literally sliced her own tail neatly down the middle. Screaming in rage and pain, the long appendage flopping around uselessly and spilling blood and gore, the Gorgon turned intent on taking at least one of them with her in this fight.

“Hey, warlock, little help would be nice.” Selena called, in a friendly tone, as if there wasn’t a giant monster preparing to destroy her. “Didn’t beat ya that bad, did she?” She teased, backing away with her eyes closed again.
 
Ricendithas was trapped; he'd have thought he could handle a Gorgon, but there was only so much the books could tell a person. Most of all was how they were in a fight; he made the assumption that the bulk of their body would inhibit rapid movement, one that he now knew was erroneous. He'd underestimated the speed at which a Gorgon could move, and that bit of lacking knowledge - combined with relative inexperience - landed him right in the coils of a massive serpent monster. Coils which slowly crushed his body; he was trying use what few nonverbal spells he could use to keep himself conscious while he figured out how to escape.

However, it seemed fate would be kind to him today, for the Gorgon had released him and let his body collapse limply; his entire form felt like his bones were bent out of their natural shape, and he was light-headed from the lack of bloodflow to his brain. His vision swam as he coughed and fought to get onto his hands and knees; yeah, he was definitely going to feel this later. But he still managed to keep enough of a head to remember about keeping his eyes tightly shut.

The warlock cringed as another bloodcurdling scream resonated through the air; the smell of blood though, caught his attention. Did she...No, he'd smelled human blood before. It was something impossible to forget. This smelled foul, heavy; was it the Gorgon? Did someone wound the creature. His answer came when he heard a woman's voice call to him. "B..Be quiet" he mumbled; he wasn't in any condition to fight her. But the monster was wounded...Badly. One more demonstration should be enough to send it running for now. Speaking in a low tone, he just spoke as fire traced to the fingertips of his right hand, "Ignis ira, liber de cavea. Quaerere hostem, et væ eis cicatricem; saeculum eos ignis, atque eos fugam confusus!" Fire then poured onto the ground from his arm like water and raced towards the Gorgon; the monster was quickly set ablaze, causing to scream and writhe in agony as the orange flame coated its flesh.

After swinging around and trying to roll to put out the flame, it opted to just flee instead of its previous decision to tangle with these two further; too much damage had been taken, and it needed to recover. Ricendithas could hear the screams fade into the distance, and only when they faded to nothing did he crack open his eyes. It was gone...For now. But they would need to find where it went; hopefully the wounds caused to it would leave a blood trail. The fire that he used probably would have only caused superficial burning; reptilian-type monsters tended to have fairly fire-resistant scales. Regardless, the warlock managed to stand shakily to his feet, his breathing heavy from the strain of being pressed like a grape. After a few moments, he managed to stand up straight but it was obvious he was still hurting a bit. Spying his sword stuck in the ground, he limped over to it and after a few pulls, yanked it free to see its edge coated in the Gorgon's blood; giving it a quick wipe with his cloak, he sheathed and turned to look at the village.

A rage-filled grimace crossed his features as his visible green eye looked upon the scene; such destruction. When he found that beast again, he would make it regret ever having chosen to come after humans in the first place. However, his vision then traveled to the witch before him; normally, he'd have tried to do away with her as well, but it was doubtful at this point that he would even bother. His target was the Gorgon after all; he then simply stated "I owe you my thanks, young lady". And without another word, he then turned and after looking down to see the trail of blood, started off in the direction that the Gorgon fled.
 
The scream of agony that erupted from the beast made Selena wince. Some small part of her still managed to feel pity for the monster despite what it had done to her village, at least until she remembered her father’s shattered face. She straightened up and watched the warlock clean his weapon on his cloak, seemingly unconcerned with smearing gore on it. She frowned when he thanked her and turned walking off in the direction the Gorgon had gone.

“Hey wait a second, that’s my kill, this was my home!” She called, trotting after him, a flash of irritation crossing her face. She doggedly followed after him, into the hills surrounding her home village. He wasn’t the most talkative sort but she was persistent, she continued on growling to herself about the pretentiousness of hunters. She didn’t care what his mission was, she would be the one to finish that hideous beast, even if it killed her in the process.

It took nearly a full two hours to track the Gorgon to its lair. A narrow cave opening, in the side of one of the hills was the only opening into the monsters home. As they grew closer an eerie mist seemed roll over the area...it made her skin crawl. Peering through the mist, she nearly walked right into a statue of man, a look of terror on his face, one hand outstretched to ward something off. Selena stopped in her tracks staring into the thick fog as shadowy forms seemingly materialized out of it. Dozens of men and women that the Gorgon and brought here, many of which she clearly delighted in tormenting first given the state of distress many of the statues were in.

She found herself jogging closer to the warlock and peering around warily. The whole scene gave off a major horror movie vibe and yet there was something peculiar about the mist. It wasn’t until she followed him into the cave that it finally clicked. “Hey…” She hissed, tugging at his sleeve. “Can Gorgon’s cast spells…” She whispered. Looking up at the man’s one good eye. Selena could feel it now, the magic that infused the mist and made it cling to the area, a shroud of sorts to hide the monster.
 
"I do not care. I have tracked this beast for months now and now it is more vulnerable. You should return and see if any one is still alive in your village" he then replied, likely fueling her belief about the pretentiousness of hunters. Little did she know that he had yet to join the ranks of the actual Hunter organization; here he was still a freelance 'monster slayer' as locals liked to call those unaffiliated with the well-networked group. Of course, she persisted; the whole way to the cave, she tried to argue with him but he would just ignore her and keep on trudging ahead. Eventually though, he would relent and even told her she would be given the chance to deal the killing blow. She did deserve justice after all; he just prayed she wouldn't do anything to get them killed.

As they approached the mouth of the hole in the side of the mountain, the warlock noted the plentitude of statues littering the entrance. "Demented abomination" he growled, the anger even more present in his voice; it was acts like this which fueled his utter despise for all of monster-kind. But he could feel the beast's presence here, his ears catching the winded gasps as the Gorgon's body no doubt struggled to recover from having its tail sliced in two and its body burned. He had stopped at the entrance of the cavern, trying to detect any sort of trap it could have laid. Just because he didn't hear of Gorgons casting spells didn't mean they couldn't. Hearing the woman's question made him look at her somewhat disinterestedly; he then turned to stare back into the deep hole that was the beast's lair. "Aside from the beast's petrifying stare....None that I know of. This enveloping shroud must have been performed by one of its victims. A false deal to guarantee safety from death, no doubt". With that, he then resumed his progression into the cave, holding up a hand and muttering "Ignis"; this caused a ball of flame to erupt around his entire hand, granting them illumination to progress. "Stay behind me" he then commanded to the woman; whether or not she followed his order didn't matter at this point. This monster would suffer for its actions.

As they journey farther, the boots that covered Ricendithas' feet crunched on shattered stone and bone pieces. Leftovers of the Gorgon's victims; it was because of this his rage boiled over and he shouted, "Just as you were the hunter...Now you are the hunted, monster! How does it feel, demon?! To hide for your life while that which stalks you draws ever closer!?! To cower in fear, hoping that you will not be found!?!" His voice echoed in the empty space of the cave, the reverberations slowly dying off as they traveled down the length of the cavern. "You humansss are all the sssame! Thinking yourselvesss sssuperior! You are prey....Nothing more!" he then heard the beast shout in reply, hints of desperation lacing its voice. "Come no closssser...Lesst you join the otherssss as toyssss for my amusssement!" it then added, its voice possessing less of an echo which indicated they were closer; this of course would only push Ricendithas further into the cave with quicker steps. Blood was in the water and he was the shark now; this monster was going to die. Painfully.

Eventually they would come upon an empty chamber, the light of the fire casting an eerie orange glow over the room. In the center stood a pylon of marble, around which the Gorgon's blackened serpent half was coiled. Even though Ricendithas couldn't see the beast, the stench of its burned scales was more than enough for him to determine where it was. "Persssissstent, aren't you? You mussst be one of them.....The Hunterssss. Who elssse would come thisss far to finisssshhh me?" The Gorgon asked; Ricendithas responded "Not all people who kill monsters are Hunters; some of us have more personal reasons than the salvation of humans". At this, the monster just cackled wearily, "A ssolo act...Hahaha, how quaint. Big bad monssster killed sssomeone close to you...Perhapsss you can refresssh my memory; there are sssoo many and I'm not exactly good with namesss or facesss". Ricendithas' face tightened into a grimace; without warning, the flame that had given them light was shot forward and set both of the monster's eyes ablaze. Howls of agony erupted from its throat once more as the watery orbs boiled and ruptured, its wicked clawed hands pounding at its face to put out the fire.

When it was gone, all that remained were two smoldering, blackened craters where its once petrifying gaze emanated from. "Like that will do anything! I can ssstill ssssmell you, bassstard! I will sssqueeze you until your body popssss like an overcooked sssausssage!" it then screamed in fury; at this point the warlock's eye had opened. "No...You won't. Never again will you cause anyone the heartache of loss" was all his reply was; this time both palms set themselves ablaze with fire. The Gorgon hissed in rage and lunged at the two of them, but all of a sudden its body caught alight in fire and forced its charge to stop. The Gorgon then rolled around in agony, Ricendithas' face contorted with unfathomable anger itself as the beast's screams grew louder. As the flame died down to ember, the Gorgon tried to weakly push itself, its throat raw from the agony; Ricendithas just muttered, his words possessing more raw anger "IGNIS....IRA!" The monster's form was set ablaze again, the thrashing and screaming beginning anew as the burning fire completely enveloped its form. Over and over again this was repeated, each time the flame beginning to turn closer to a bluish-white and the rage the warlock felt climbing ever higher each time he ignited the monster's skin.

By the time it was over, the Gorgon was alive but barely moving; its scales had long since been burned away, exposing blistered and blackened raw muscle. The humanoid portion of it suffered the same fate, some of the flesh even have been burned to the bone;the warlock's chest heaved, the previous physical exhaustion and bodily damage from the fight combined with his excessive use of fire magicka making him feel incredibly exhausted. So exhausted that he actually collapsed to his knees, his upper body supported by his arms. Reaching weakly for his blade, he managed to pull it from its sheath but had not the strength to wield it; instead it clattered to the floor before him, its wicked black edge gleaming in the light of the embers that still covered the badly wounded monster before him.
 
Selena remained near the warlock as they entered the cavern, shuddering at the oppressive feel of the place. Witches were pretty sensitive to fluctuations in the energy around them whether they were aware of it or not. What the Gorgon had done, the amount of negative energy created by its monstrous kills saturated this place and seeped into her body, making her feel heavy and worn out. She hadn’t considered the fact that one of the Gorgon’s victims might have been a spellcaster, Selena wondered if put in a situation where she couldn’t escape the monster if she would resort to trying to barter for her life. She frowned deep in thought as they continued deeper, there was only one caster in the area she knew of.

The sound of their feet crunching over the bones of the creatures victim’s made her wince. The young witch did her best to not to stare too hard at the bones and broken statues as they walked, too afraid she would see something familiar. Speaking of the familiar, the shroud still bothered her, why would any caster, even in desperation help a monster like this. It wasn’t until they entered the main cavern, where the monster was coiled around the pillar that Selena realized why the spell seemed familiar. Her eyes roamed the cave, being careful to avoid looking at the Gorgon and half listening to the exchange between the monster and the warlock. At least until her eyes landed on a statue hidden near the edge of the cavern. It was surprisingly unmarred, not a scratch or crack on it.

The voice of the Gorgon faded out in a buzz of white noise as the blood pounded in her ears. Its agonizing screams barely registered as she reached out a shaking hand and touched one smooth stone cheek. The boy couldn’t have been more than fifteen, seventeen at most, the look of absolute terror on his face was heart wrenching. His eyes were cast upwards, a look of desperation in them as the Gorgon loomed over him. The shroud was a result of a terrified kid, trying anything he could to survive. Selena could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she dropped to her knees beside the statue, gripping his hand. Her brother, her baby brother, she had discovered last time she was home that he had an aptitude for magic involving the weather and was searching for a teacher for him through the Coven. Now he would never have the chance to learn, that monster had taken it away from him.

There was no sound behind her anymore, the snake was barely moving, its form unrecognizable thanks to the warlocks torturous fire magic. Selena pushed herself to her feet, her gaze unfocused as she trudged over to where the warlock had dropped to his knees. Her unseeing eyes fixed on the glimmering edge of the sword and she stopped, reaching down and picking it up in one hand. The monster was sprawled on the floor, twitching occasionally as pain wracked its body. Still it summoned up enough strength to talk. “Ssssuch a fine boy….sssooo pretty I kept him assss a pet…” It hissed weakly, trying to goad her into a quick death. “He cried for you…” The Gorgon laughed hoarsely and Selena could hear the liquid in its lungs, choking the monster with each rattling breath.

She stood over the monster, staring numbly down at it. It felt as though all her blood had been replaced with ice. The warlock had tortured it, caused it immense pain but it wasn’t enough for Selena. She wanted to feel that monster die. She hefted the sword like it weighed a thousand pounds, it truly felt like a heavy burden, and set the blade against the Gorgon’s torso, where the burned flesh became scale. Selena could hear the creature try to pull itself away from the wicked edge so she drove her knee into the scaled muscle just below the torso using her body weight to hold the weakened monster in place. The Gorgon let out a gurgling screech of pain and fear as Selena pressed her knee down. The volume and pitch increased to an almost ear splitting level when she very slowly started to slice the beast through the middle, sawing back and forth as if slicing off a piece of bread.

The witch didn’t flinch as the Gorgon flail weakly, blood splattering from the gaping wound and over her face and body. Eventually she hit the spine and finding she lacked the strength to cut through the bone she stood up and viciously ripped the blade out of the monsters body. It had long since ceased to move but just to be sure, she unceremoniously decapitated it. The head rolled to the side, the horrified expression on the monsters face not unlike that of its victims. All the energy she had to complete her task, seeped out of her body and she dropped the sword onto the floor before sinking to the cold stone herself. Her gaze remained fixed on the statue across the room, the tears leaking from her eyes cutting a trail through the blood that stained her cheeks.

Venice, Italy

Selena would never forget that fight, it still haunted her all these years later and seeing the very same warlock who had made it possible for her to kill that monster had brought the memory rushing forward. She immediately felt a conflicting wave of emotion swirl through her. She knew with certainty that this man was a definite threat to Cassandra. If anyone could succeed at bringing the vampiress down, it would be him. As a loyal supporter of the Baroness, she knew it was her duty to remove the threat while he was weak...but she couldn’t prevent the pang of guilt in her chest. He had saved her once, albeit grudgingly and only because it coincided with his goals. Still, killing a man who had once helped her just did not sit well with her.

“Look, we can stand here all day and banter or you can let me out, I will remove the curse and we can both walk away.” There was an unspoken addition to her words, sure they could both walk away. Today. After that whatever happened would be on equal footing and quite likely as enemies. Unless of course he decided they were already enemies. She stood inside the ring of fire, watching him silently.
 
Ricendithas just stared at the floor, seeing the woman take his weapon but making no effort to stop her; he needed a moment to rest, as his limbs felt like blocks of lead. Slowly he managed to push himself up so that he now sat on his knees, watching the scene before him unfold as heavy breaths were muted by the Gorgon's taunts. The rage from the young woman was palpable, and made even more prevalent when she began trying to sever it at the middle. Honestly, he was surprised she got as far as she did; like their Lamia cousins, their bodies were riddle with thick, dense muscle and even with how much he'd burned away it would be a chore to sever.

Eventually, the effort made her give up and simply go for the prize: Raising the sword over her head, she brought it down on the monster's neck, blood oozing from the severed stump of a neck as the head rolled to one side. It was dead, its reign of terror concluded; however, it seemed that that was the last of the strength she could muster. He watched her body fall to the floor, muted sobs leaving her and echoing ever so slightly in the dead-still chambers of the beast.

Pushing himself to his feet, he slowly made his way over to the woman and retrieved his sword; the Gorgon's last words rang in his ears as he picked up the blade and sheathed it. His eye then peered down at the woman before slowly looking up to see a perfectly preserved statue. Must have been someone important to her, he thought; it was this that made him realize for her, this fight was a Pyrrhic victory. There was nothing that could be said, so he said nothing and left the woman to grieve; his footsteps echoed into the ever-consuming darkness as he exited the cavern, his own fights ahead of him just beginning.

Venice, Italy. March 1993

The warlock just stared at the witch; that was a time when he was still "green as grass", as they say. Under normal circumstances, anyone else who threatened him like this would have been interrogated and then swiftly executed. He did have the upper hand, in this situation at least; the things he could do with his fire magic now compared to then. But...She did save his life that day. And even though deep down he wanted to burn that monster to ash and hear it scream for its life, the fact that she killed it made the concept of justice much clearer to him. In short, as much as he helped her...She helped him too.

Regardless of that though, sirens could be heard wailing in the distance and voices could be heard outside the door, ushering everyone outside; no doubt his little stunt with the ring of fire had attracted the authorities. Her offer would probably put him at a disadvantage later on; the likelihood that she worked for whatever he was hunting had crossed his mind as well. But in this instance the choice was plainly obvious; a fight now would likely incur heavy collateral damage and he'd already been made.

"Fine...But before I let you go, answer this one question I have" was his reply; he then added "I found a man dead, but someone cast an enchantment to obviously make it look he was alive. That man also had the curse I'm afflicted with on him and was killed with a poisoned weapon; that dagger you're holding looks to be about the right size. The caster would need exceptional skill to lay a subtle trap like that. Along with the fact that you knew of the curse leads me to believe that you killed that man.Tell me....Am I wrong?"
 
Lying to him now would be pointless. The situation left them at a stand still until either one of them acted or they both walked away. “You are not wrong.” She answered simply, no hint of humour or gloating on her face. She did not elaborate, he had not asked for further details and Selena was not about to provide them. She knew full well admitting the fact might incur his wrath, she had seen the single minded drive his hatred for monster-kind had caused and she suspected if he thought she had useful information, no amount of history between them would save her hide. She still had the pill, affectionately called Lilliana’s Rest, by those in Cassandra’s inner circle. It would probably still end with her death but as long as he got nothing from her she would be happy.

Selena vanished the dagger with a spell, and held her hands palm out in a gesture of surrender. “If you are going to make a decision, please do so soon. You seem to have attracted attention.” It was not a malicious comment, rather a statement of fact. It worked in her favour too, as the attention would be on this side of town and not where the body had been left. It was dark out now, the street team probably having already retrieved the body and scoured the scene of any physical or magical traces. Her eyes met his one uncovered eye and she gazed at him, with an expression of acceptance of whatever might happen. If she had any sense at all she would have taken the drug right then and there.
 
Ricendithas had a feeling that she was the one who 'pulled the trigger', so to speak; hearing her admit it was a different story altogether. While that could have meant that she had useful information, the fact remained he needed to let her go; no doubt not just the fire-fighting teams, but the local judicial authorities would be here as well to investigate. And as much as he wanted to just burn her to ash for taking away a promising lead...The fact that she did kill his attempted mental attacker meant that he did know something. Something so incredibly damaging that his silence was worth more than his life.

And when she made the dagger disappear, his gaze lingered a moment longer in suspicion; he still had her trapped, but either she couldn't escape the circle of flame or she was playing the part to get him to lower his guard. Eventually he just said, "Very well...But you will remove this curse first". Raising his hands up, he then turned them to have the palms facing downward before lowering them; the circle of fire around Selena's feet lowered in synchrony until all that remained was a black ring on the floor. The warlock then gave a flick of his fingers and small dots of fire appeared all over her body; they wouldn't hurt her or damage her clothing, but she'd feel a pleasant heat from them. "Try anything that might kill me, and you're charcoal. Now undo this curse, and you're free to go" he then stated quite plainly, glaring at her as if daring to make a move.
 
Selena sighed dramatically, rolling her emerald eyes. “You need to work on your trust issues friend.” She muttered, feeling the gentle heat from the small points of flame. Ignoring them she walked forward and stood in front him regarding him silently for a moment. She was surprised to find she was able to almost look him in the eye, he couldn’t have been more than 2 inches taller than her though, to be fair she was wearing 3 inch heels. “I have to put my hands on you.” She stated raising her hands to his face. He had barely nodded warily before she gently grabbed the sides of his face and closed her eyes. His skin was oddly warm to the touch, probably from his ability to manipulate fire. He was lucky to have lived as long as he had. So many fire users quite literally burned themselves out with reckless use of their power...though she had the distinct feeling there were other factors at play there.

She could see the small knotted ball of black magic inside of him, like a tangled thread. Working slowly and methodically she unknotted it and pulled it out of him, letting the magic dissipate into the air. To him it would probably feel as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him, manipulating magic in another person could have peculiar physical side effects. It would be so easy to just...cut something vital within him right now...Selena swore mentally. Working for someone like Cassandra inevitably changed people, it was hard not to become calculating and cold when one knew what was at stake. Sometimes it was hard to remember to act like a human being.

The last of the curse melted away from him and she let go, stepping away from his body a touch hurriedly. “There, you are free, now let me go.” She said watching him warily and hoping he would keep his word. Flashing lights flickered against the wall of the room as emergency crews arrived on the scene, Selena couldn’t help but shiver at the eerie shadows that played across the wall because of them. “We are out of time warlock.” Her voice took on a soft, pleading edge. Being discovered here by the authorities could seriously (and negatively) affect her mission in Venice, she couldn’t help but fidget slightly waiting for his reply.
 
"Trust the woman who cursed me...Yes, a fantastic example for building trust" the warlock replied sarcastically; did she honestly take him for a fool? Sure he might have accidentally triggered her curse, but that was a fluke. When she mentioned having to put her hands on him, Ricendithas could do nothing except comply; of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't keep his guard up. But the most effective way to deal with a curse was for skin-to-skin contact to happen.

As she unraveled the debilitating magic within, he felt tendrils of frigid energy course through him and elicit shivers; though an upside was that he could feel his strength returning as the energy required to numb the pain was lessened. "Remember...Charcoal" he reminded her, letting her know that he would gladly roast her like a game bird if she tried anything. When the last of the curse was removed, he felt a wave of cold wash over him and his legs buckle a little; a thin sheen of cold sweat formed on his brow, an aftereffect of the curse being removed. It felt like someone threw him into an arctic sea and let him sit there for a few minutes.

His strength soon returned, and Selena would notice that aside from a little heavy breathing, he seemed a fair bit better than before. Ricendithas turned his head to see the emergency lights outside; it was in fact time to go. Giving a snap of his fingers, the small points of fire vaporized instantly, leaving her intact and unharmed. "There...Now it seems we're even once more" the warlock stated; he knew staying here was no longer an option. But now that he could move again...Perhaps he'd go see if that body was still around. The curse was already triggered, so that meant he likely could try again and see if it held useful information.

"Go...There should be a back exit you can use. Just pray we don't meet again, as I doubt the circumstances will be better" was his last word to her before he turned and climbed out the side window. The last thing he needed was local law enforcement hounding him, and besides...There was work that needed to be done and a status update to give to his boss.
 
Moments after the warlock vanished through a side window, Selena slipped out of the room and made her way further down the hall using one the motels side entrances to get away from the emergency crews that were hurrying into the building. It didn’t take long to get back to her hotel, the walk gave her plenty of time to consider what had happened, what she had just done. She was still conflicted by the confrontation but at this point it was the past and nothing could be changed about it.

The first thing she did on entering her room was go straight to the computer to send a report to the Steward detailing the entire days events. Selena was sure he would be more than a little irritated with her for not removing the warlock when she had the chance but she was confident in her loyalty to Cassandra and knew he was too. With the message sent, she started stripping out of the clothes, sliding into a gold coloured silk robe. After today she wanted a long hot soak in the enormous tub her suite offered. Before she even began running the water her computer blipped, a reply from the Steward.

The Steward never seemed to sleep and almost always responded within minutes of receiving a message. Selena would not be shocked at all if he found a way to receive them directly to his brain. Her emerald eyes widened in surprise at his response, and a pensive frown formed on her lips.

Return to the manor at once. You’re mission is compromised, you will be relocated.​

Selena tapped her chin for a few minutes, staring absently across the room. It was a peculiar message. They knew full well she could take care of herself, and that she knew what was at stake, the risk involved and what would need to be done if she WAS compromised. The warlock’s face and his words swam up in her mind. He was clever and driven, if she returned there was a good chance he would track her. He knew her now, not just her face but her magic too. The Steward was going to be supremely displeased by her response.

Too risky. Will leave Venice but potential for tracking to high. Will contact again once safe.
~S.Michel​

There was no point in waiting for a reply, she had implied she would be going silent for a while until the warlock stopped following her. Looking around the room she realized if she packed hurriedly and left town immediately it might lure him into following her away from Cassandra, it meant she would need to face off with him eventually but it would make up for what she had done earlier. Tossing the robe on the bed she quickly dressed in comfortable clothing, leaving a few pieces behind and stuffing a few things into an overnight bag. She threw her computer in the bag and few more personal things before hurrying out of the hotel, not even bothering to check out. The more rushed and panicked her escape looked, the more likely he would think she was rushing to her boss to report or get to safety.

The quickest way to get out of town was to head for the train station, she picked a destination randomly, something with a train that was leaving relatively soon and eventually found herself curled up in a seat on the way to Germany. That would certainly tickle his curiosity since it was one of the countries Cassandra’s shroud extended to. A Coven there maintained it, so Selena planned on paying them a visit, she would be much safer with a whole Coven of witches loyal to Cassandra and as an added bonus, there were a few business leads she could follow up on in Berlin. Sighing she leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the rocking of the train lull her to sleep though it was hardly restful, the warlock and his searing flames haunted her for the entire journey.
 
Ricendithas snuck along the wall of the motel facing the water, keeping his head below the sills so that no emergency personnel would see him; last thing he needed was to get caught. But at least the fire - well, there wasn't really an out of control fire and all the response teams would find would be a scorched circle in the floor and a melted brass fire sprinkler - would center their attention here. "Perhaps I should go see about that body now...Maybe I can learn a thing or two about who that man worked" the warlock mused; with that woman now familiar with him, he needed to be careful. Powerful as he was, he didn't really know how strong this woman was and given how she was able to curse him he knew treading carefully was the best thing to do.

He felt the cool night air whip about his skin, his eye peering up to see the shining stars of the brilliant heavens. So many other industrialized countries had their streets lit that it blocked out the points of light in the sky, but here they were. Clear as day. Giving himself a quick mental shake, he quickened his pace throughout the now-emptier streets of Venice to reach the café. Except when he got there...There was no body. No corpse; it was like the man was never here to begin with. Ricendithas cursed; someone must have moved it to prevent him getting a look at it. But now he knew for sure: That woman knew something too. Now he really felt like a rookie for letting her go; but then, there was something else that he could do. Ricendithas took a calming breath and sat down where the dead man once lay, as he needed to consider his options. If she did know something, no doubt she would try to make a break out of the city. Go somewhere she thought was safe since she didn't bother with trying to take him out. But if she knew he was following her, she might change course and lead him somewhere completely remote.

Damn it, if only he knew where she was staying at; he could follow her then put a trace on where she was going. But judging by the way she dressed and the fact she was a witch, it was probably somewhere upscale. One of the higher-end places...But maybe he was trying too hard. He knew her magic by now; and despite the fact that she'd removed the curse from, magic always left a 'calling card'. A little piece of itself in whatever it affected; a skilled caster could easily extract this fragment and turn it into an improvised means of tracking via phylactery. Sadly, despite his experience in the arcane arts, the warlock did not possess the skill set to perform this type...Though he wasn't without his resources. Like all users of the arcane, each one could 'feel' each other's magic; this was due to the fundamental nature of magic itself, as it was a continuum of energy from which new life was created or transformed. It took years to realize this and even more to learn how the subtle variations of magicka in each individual wielder could be interpreted, but it was something that the warlock had learned to do. Except unlike true phylactery, his technique could only cover a few square blocks...A massive limitation, but something he could utilize nonetheless. He raised his left hand up, palm horizontal and spoke "Ignis dirige semitam ad tenebras".

An invisible burst of flame shot out in a hemispherical fashion; this technique would have the fire react with the most recent energy signatures that his body had come into contact with. Of course, it likely wouldn't be quite as selective as he would have liked since it would react with any energy; however, his plan was to find a common one that was relatively fresh. He did notice a reaction however; looking up, the warlock saw a bright light at the top of a very ritzy-looking hotel. Several to be exact; seemed this was a frequent hotspot for witches or other magical beings. "That's interesting" he mused as he made his over to the hotel; repeating the spell again, he found a smaller number of the lights trailing from the entrance.

Over and over again, this was repeated; eventually he found his way to a train station and after repeating the spell one last time, he saw a signature on one of the cars that was just pulling out. "No, no, stay damn it!" he mentally shouted as he tried to hurry to catch it; however, it quickly pulled too far away for him to attempt trying to jump on it. "Plan B" the warlock muttered; giving a quick look around, a small blip of flame shot out from a concealed finger and landed on the rearmost car. He might not have been able to track others efficiently, but tracking himself was something even the most inexperienced magic user could accomplish; after all, it fell back to the magical signature. Finding your own was the easiest thing in the world to do.

He then made his way out of the subway station; perhaps he could try to sneak back into the hotel. He did pay for two nights there, after all; then again, he did start a fire. "Seems like I'll be staying in an alley tonight" Ricendithas muttered; didn't really matter though. All he really needed was a map of Europe...Which he left in his motel room and was likely now confiscated. Thankfully, they wouldn't find his prints on it; his use of fire magic made sure that no fingerprints could be found. Or any trace evidence for that matter. But it also meant he was shit out of luck unless he could find another map.
 
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