Nearly a generation and a half had passed since the Massacre of Cord's Crossing, and the spot where the small road leading to the valley of Ravensfast split from the main roadway between Malarid and The Duchy of Urevan bore an evil reputation. Travelers did not tarry in the area, fearful of the stories now circulating of the "valley of death", a story widely circulated after a small boy had come running into the hamlet of Briarstone. Barely able to speak, he had ranted about fire taking the keep, and of "the master with glowing red eyes."

It was enough for the church council of Leorn to convene an emergency meeting. With no message, mundane or magical, from Arch-cleric Vladimir Glashion the church leaders voted to send an expeditionary force to find out the truth of the situation. Made up of the Ordo Militant, operatives of the Ordo Malleous, fighting forces of the United Dragons of Light and healers of the Church of Tymora, the small army made it's way into the valley itself.

Only five of a force of nearly one thousand returned. Of these, three were declared insane, and a forth put to the question by the Ordo Hereticus for the disturbing ranting. Only one, a knight of the Malleous, could give an account of the tale.

The road leading into the valley passed over the crest of a small ridge, the true entrance to the valley. The woods bore a pall about them, and as the army advanced all went quiet. The pickets of the army had barely crested the hill when they were met by several slowly walking up the road toward them. At first thought to be local villagers, the truth became deadly evident as they closed, and the charnel odor of death reached the pickets, but too late as the zombies started to attack. The first were easily beaten back, but others shuffled from the woods, many dressed as servants and guards of the keep, as well as villagers and an unfortunate caravan to seek shelter at the keep.

As the shadows of the towering mountains crossed the road other undead joined the fray. Ghouls leaped from the branches of trees and erupted from the ground, often in the middle of the company. Slowly, the force was whittled down, and to the horror of those priests attending the wounded the slain would jerk back to hideous unlife after a few moments, a dark spell working around them.

Step by the step the combined forces fought their way within sight of the keep's granite walls, where the leader received hope. As the army fought its way into the plains the great doors of the keep opened, and six armored warriors rode out, weapons flashing as they cut a path toward the beleaguered army. Cries of triumph rang out as the keeps knights joined the battle lines, the ranks opening to allow them entry. The commander of the army rode forward to the leader of the knights, but his welcome died on his lips at the sight of the fleshless skull and blasted armor, a second's worth of shock before his head left his shoulders. After that, the battle became a rout as Sir Herzog and his skeletal knights rampaged through the army arrayed before the keep. Only a few escaped, most of those dying at Cord's Crossing of their wounds.

The knight reported catching a glimpse of the courtyard, and the charnel house it had become. The Church Council was shocked by the news the knight brought, and sent the man to his chambers for rest as they debated the debacle. The knight was found the next morning in his cells, hanging from a noose made from his bedding. A last note, penned in his blood, lay on the table. Darkness and Death wait beneath the oak and elm.

The Ordo Malleous declared the Valley of Ravensfast Purgatis. No further attempts to take the keep would be made, and the records of Ravensfast and the terrible fate befallen were sealed in the Libram Malederium, known only to the Lord Inquisitors of the Ordo Hereticus. And thus Ravensfast passed from the annals of man.

But the keep continued, the valley gaining an evil reputation. Even the surly orc-tribes of the mountains quickly learned not to venture too close, and the shamans gave the valley the name Gharnholme, the orcish word for "ghoul-hold." It was a name intrepid trader's brought from the wilderness, and it gained universal use in a short time, to the private amusement of the dark lord residing there. As years stretched on, Gharnholme became a name used to scare children into behaving. "Be good, or the demons of Gharnholme will come get you!" Occasional strange happenings, the disappearance of entire families from outlying farms or lost caravans, were blamed either on the insular Northras barbarians, or more popularly, the dark forces of the keep. The Ordo Hereticus knew the truth, but more often than not, could not arrive to stop the undead raiders until it was too late.

And today, thirty years later, even when the bright summer sun graced the caps of the mountains, snowbound all year around, verdant green forests were alive with the sounds of nature and people went about their lives, those living in the shadows of those mountains would glance to the north, and feel a chill run through their bodies and souls.

*****

Air rippled around the hard form of the nightmare as Dante reentered the Material plane, hooves flaming as they struck the hard ground. Circling, the fiendish horse pawed the air before settling with an indignant snort. Lucius DeAuster dismounted, sliding Deathlight from its sheath on Dante's saddle, to be returned to its sheath at his hip as he dismissed the nightmare. As the beast faded from view he started toward the doors leading into the keep.

Around him a troop of zombies shuffled, being led to a place of containment by one of the black-clad Acolytes. The arrival of the twenty-some-odd men and women had been a shock, one of the first that the deathknight had experienced since his return. Their leader, Karthos, had managed to piece stories and legend together, and had sent a missive to Gharnholme, requesting an audience with the undead warrior. Lucius had agreed, intrigued by the audacity of the request, and fully intending to kill the fool and his followers afterward. Karthos had impressed him, however, with his zeal to his deathgod, and changing his plans, Lucius had welcomed the small band. Now, the Acolytes had all the undead they could study, and in return, had fashioned spells to make the zombies faster in their movements. A trade Lucius found amicable.

Stalking up the steps to the doors, Lucius banged them open and entered the keep. Around him the granite walls still bore the evidence of the fires that had gutted the place, years before. The undead cared not what their surroundings looked like, and the Acolytes made their home in the old barracks. No webs adorned the walls, nor did lichen grow here, the aura of the place keeping away such mundane flora and fauna.

Down the hallway that once opened into the main hall of the keep a set of stairs descended into the earth, exiting out into a small antechamber, with three passages branching off. A nearly invisible form shifted in one corner, a skeletal hand coming up to tap a blackened breastplate in salute. Lucius nodded once to the skeletal warrior that had been the paladin Gauth as he moved through an arched doorway and down a darkened hall. Passing through another arch, the deathknight entered The Underhalls.

Carved from the living stone, the hall was as large as any lord's greeting hall, two stone pillars rising on either side partway down to the other end, where a raised dais awaited, an ornate oaken chair ready to receive the Lord of Gharnholme. Settling into the chair, arms resting on the hard armrests, He brooded silently, the flickering eyes dimming as he sat in thought. It had been quite a shock to see Fiona again, even for one such as him self. Brutin was a wily one indeed, to have her as his head of security. A leather-clad finger idly tapped the armrest as he thought over the meeting.

Outwardly she had not changed, except maybe for a narrowing of eyes. Yet her demeanor had radically changed. There was an ice-hard edge to her now that had not once been there. Probably a result of the parting they had shared, he mused to himself.

That cast dark thoughts further still back, to that fateful night in his study. After that night he had borne the guilt of his actions, but after his return, he had stepped into that chamber again, and felt nothing. No guilt, no regrets, nothing but a dull hollowness. Indeed, he had discovered that now, the only thing he felt was hatred, a white-hot hate to his enemies. It blossomed in combat, which is why he sought out challenges like he did.

Thinking back over the day, however, the image of ice-green eyes peering at him over the scarf covering her lower face, of the long black hair hanging in the ponytail, once again stirred something within the dead chest. Her melodic voice had graced his ears, bringing back memories long buried. Nights of passion unbound, made the sweeter by the illicit meetings determined by their life's paths. As he had stood, silent sentinel by Brutin's door, he had wished to see her face uncloaked again. The mental image was not enough.

And for the first time in a decade, something else besides hate and anger stirred within the deathknight. What it was, he could not put his finger on, and that drove him into deeper brooding. Curiosity perhaps" Had she found another" Was she happy in her life's lot' Questions haunted him until, deep into the night, he decided on a course of action. It was time to again meet Fiona.

She took the time to ponder the various emotions in her movement towards the field. Resentment, pain, anger, all tangling up with memories she had sought valiantly to forget. The day she had walked away from his keep, leathers torn and her heart in tatters has been the very same time the building of the walls of ice she now maintained had started. She didn't want anything trying to breech those barriers, not even her own wayward and foolishly sentimental memories.

The brief battle was used to her own advantage, the man she faced sent bouncing and bleeding across the hard cobbles of the courtyard. She unleashed the anger that was boiling up inside on a hapless victim that had likely assumed her and easy mark for the game. Fiona however, did not play fair and by the time it was over she stood a blood covered and battered victor and watched as her opponent was carted off to the prison. "Fio, do you think you could ease up just a little in these fights?" Anath her Guild Commander requested, as he stepped up beside her to offer a clean towel.

"Why?" Blood soaked gloved fingers taking the towel with a hard flinty look shot up at him where he towered her over her.

He just gave her that curiously twisted smile. "Because Healers cost me money and that one you nearly destroyed will be needing them aplenty."

A soft snort given as she wiped the blood from her pale face and then started to inspect her self for the various damages inflicted upon her leathers. "Most that challenge me, be knowing I nae play "Nice". Tis nae my way and I'll not change to ease anyone's pain, even that of ye own purse Anath."

"You watch yourself then. The one you just beggared up but good is the Enemy Guild Leaders current play toy. She might not take kindly to the ruin you made of him." Now she could feel his amusement and just looked up with another soft snort.

"Then he should nae have tried to kiss me then. Tis his own fault, for most also know I do nae care to be touched in such manners." Her ice green eyes just hardened and glittered dangerously.

"You just make sure to keep a watch. That work you're doing for Brutin isn't in one of our safe locations so anything is bound to happen. She has access to assassins and it's sure you just became a major target."

That little bit of knowledge just made her shoulders lift in a shrug. Let them try and take her out. Most of them were not even born when she was working steadily in that very same field. She wasn't concerned and saw it as more of an inconvenience then anything else. "Aye, I will be watching Anath."

"Well, this war is nearly done." He didn't hide the mockery in his voice, as it was more field games. The ritual of battle lost to the one on one nature of the games.

A glance shot up as she found a gash in her dark night leathers, noticing the dark hair and blue eyes of the tall form without any sensation at all inside. Such was easier to deal with then that cursed Death Knight. "Who be winning thus far?"

"Oh us of course. Looks like the coffers will be filled up with more points then I can push, which will only put us in direct line of fire of those power hungry Leaders looking to boost their own treasury."

"Recruit more then." This stated blandly as Fiona didn't practice that. She earned her rank as a commander through battles and sweat and didn't see any reason at all to seek others. She wasn't a people person to start with. "I shall see ye later Anath."

She didn't even wait for him to reply just side stepped off into the dark embrace, her own injuries healed up enough to manage and was soon returning to the Hall of earlier.

Upon arriving of course she walked in to see a variety of things. A woman on the floor hunched up and weeping, while around her several "would-be? heroes were trying to get at Brutin and there in the middle, holding them off with surprising ease was the Death Knight. Blood splatters on the floor and the injured already heading for the exit, causing her to step to the side to let them pass. A raven brow arching with a faint smirk as it looked like she had missed much of the usual conversation. "Free her or DIE!"

"Grow up boy, she "wanted" that collar." Usually followed with course laughter from Brutin. "I'll make a 'real" Woman of her, then you can buy her back for a price."

"I'm going to KILL YOU!" Which inevitably ended with their blood coloring the marble floors of the Hall in copious amounts. Of course usually in the middle of it all was the diminutive Tara, Brutin's unstable secretary, picking her way over the red puddles and muttering "Droolers."

This situation looked much the same and as it did seem as if DeAuster had a good handle upon matters, she didn't interfere, oh no, she merely took up a lean against the wall he had vacated and watched. It took a surprisingly short amount of time before only the wailing woman was left on her own, wallowing in her stupidity. So many thought they could bed Brutin and brag, but in fact, he used that lure and just collared them instead without the benefits of sexual release.

Fiona he did respect, as she lacked any urges that he was aware of in that direction and had simply not shown any sign of interest with him or anyone else for that matter. She was in a word, frigid. It was likely one of the many reasons he had sought to hire her. She was by all accounts, immune to the lustful urges of most other woman she suspected.

The cold voice of death did touch her ears as her "Partner" was returning to his place near the door. "Thank you for your help." With only the rage easily felt she just gave a jaded little smile before pushing from her lean and off she moved again, putting space between the Death Knight and herself. None would even notice her behavior as unusual except for herself. She simply didn't want to be near him and was making sure to keep a healthy distance. "Ye seemed to have it under control Milord. I didn't wish to impede.?

In that single moment she sensed he was looking for something and again, berated her own wayward thoughts that she was the key to what ever he sought. It was bad enough she had to deal with him, but she wouldn't be an amusement again for him, no matter what the situation. Instead she assumed her position behind Brutin, and idly toyed with a deep gash in the snug leather enfolding her forearm. Her pale features were still uncovered and streaked faintly with the glaze of blood but otherwise she looked cold and serene while she settled into guarding.

Deep inside her the emotions were in turmoil, for she wasn't able to bury the memories and was slowly realizing it. Perhaps, she just needed to try and purge herself of them instead. Remind herself of the fool she had been. He had been her first lover, her only lover and had lost her self within his arms. Perhaps it was that reminder that deepened her resolve now.

Winter cold green eyes narrowed as they lifted and she looked at the creature across the room. He was a threat to all she had worked hard to acquire. The walls of ice she had constructed inside were shaking and she considered the menace to them. Even now her Demon was stirring and if unleashed, she may end up falling back into emotions she would rather forget, once again losing her pride and her dignity. So few had even gotten that close to the truth she now hid and it seemed an evil twist of fate that one who had, was now staring back at her and she could feel nothing at all from him. He was a void of any emotion or thought and made him even more dangerous to her piece of mind.

She was enraged, and the temper she so carefully controlled flared wildly momentarily in her wintry green gaze before her restraints took hold and dragged the emotion back with impressive speed, leaving only the serenely cold mask in place. "I nae ever wished such a fate upon ye Lucius. Nae. I had hoped ye would have the kind of life ye wanted."

One that didn't include her of course and with that thought, she was spinning away. She had to secure her charge and then seek out her guild leader and attempt to explain the death of an assassin. In truth, she had to get away from him. Emotions were becoming too chaotic to contain and the words he uttered only made then claw and struggle inside. He had made his choices so long ago and she had not mattered in them then, so didn't trust the words spoken now.

Even with his wrecked features and the chill radiating off him, she was still drawn to him. She was the moth to the flame but this time she didn't wish to be burned. So she ran. Unusual for her, as she never fled from anything, but even as unhurried steps carried her out the Tavern door, she was fighting the urge to dash. For the next hour, she then buried herself in dealing with the matters at hand.

Lord Brutin had already retired for the night, so she set up guards and sent off a few to find the slaver that had attempted to set him up. That one would likely be brought in by the morning. Next, she had to see Anath. He of course wasn't pleased about the death of the Assassin, but as nothing could be done to change the situation, he assured her he would handle the flack it was certain to generate within the Council. Once all that was done, she was able to get some time for herself. Seconds upon closing the massive door of the Guild Hall, she was sliding off into the weave of black, letting it carry her off where she could collect her scattered thoughts without interruption.

The last time she had sought solace in the dark woods, had been after the shattering of her emotions. Fragments of it had hung within her breast then cracked and jagged edged. With the drama of youth, she had sought her own company to grieve the loss of something not to be hers along with the lost innocence of her own soul. Her father hadn't understood her behavior and if he saw her now he would be just as confused.

She had been raised to control all emotions and guard against the nature she carried. It was deeply a part of what she was. Something she never could change, anymore then she could round her ears or alter skin color for more then a few hours. She had accepted it and now she sought that restraint, seeking a way to once again bury the rocketing feelings.

Where she stood now was a quiet place, well off the beaten track, where nothing had scarred or marred the beauty of the view spread before her. The lake glowing from the sliver of moon above and the sound of night activities rose in a crescendo to her senses. Yet the serenity of her hiding place didn't ease her bubbling emotions, but here she didn't feel the need to guard against them so rigidly. None would see the strain on her pale features or the raw emotion that shone in the bleak green eyes.

In private she could allow some of the memories to rise. Remembering with perfect clarity that first night. The heat and the pain, the sensations of touch and lust she thought she would drown in it. Reason hadn't mattered much, for even as she knew she should draw back, pure impulse had consumed her. At the time she hadn't found an answer for it. He was wrong for her with his God and his pious ways, and still when she was in his arms, he had felt ever so right. Even now, wiser and more controlled then ever, she still had no answers to that conflict.

Some would say there was something wrong with her. As he had been the only one she had ever stupidly allowed to touch her heart. Over the years many had tried and all had failed to get close. To touch and seek to attract her notice, but she had shunned them all. Not one had appealed, nor created a single spark of interest and then out of the blue, he was back, changed, colder, and dead and she was unable to still the heat of emotion that threatened to consume her.

She must remember the facts. He had used her, slacked his lust on her body as he saw her as little better then a whore. Her nature in his eyes had declared that and damned her to such misrepresentation, and where his perfect Sapphire wouldn't ever allow such hedonistic past times, she hadn't put up even the smallest of a fight against it. At the time, she hadn't ever felt such hunger for anyone and even today, the same could be said. He had used her, and then cast her aside to marry that virginal frigid bitch, uncaring of Fiona's feelings or her childish dreams.

She found it ironic that he had claimed to love that creature and desired her at the same time. Fiona was dark where as his betrothed had been fair. She was shorter, with more curves, and the blond had been tall and willowy. Elegant and placid as a glass of water and she was and just as bland of flavor as far as Fiona had been concerned. While she hadn't hidden herself from him, hadn't held back anything, and even now she cringed at the things she had spoke of. Her secrets nearly all exposed to one that had turned around and wounded her with words she had never expected. "It's over. I'm to wed another more suitable."

Oh at the time she had been furious. Her bloodlines if she had cared enough to display them were as pure and long as the lands she hailed from. Her cousin was a queen, and yet, those words had not once fell from her lips. The truth of it was, she simply hadn't been "good" enough to be considered a wife. Hell, she hadn't even been clean enough but for back room liaisons masquerading as romantic interludes. She had been gullible and now had to find the strength to not let on any emotion at all.

His nature now, hardly suited such attentions. She was aware of what he was and knew full well he had no interest in a dalliance of any physical disposition. So in that she had no fear. It was her erstwhile emotions that she would need to contain. It was the only redeeming feature in what she felt was a nightmare of errors on her part.

Settling her self down upon the thick stretching root of the large oak, she rested her back against the towering trunk and just lectured herself in silence. She wasn't a blind idiot now. She needn't fear any attention from him that would shake her resolve, for he was one of the undead, a warrior for Death. Lust, as far as she knew, was normally found under the "life" category and made him incapable of such urges.

She gave a moment to ponder his words. It was apparent he did at least remember her, but hard to know the extent, considering his cold emotionless eyes and the grave like rasp. For a moment she had felt his rage and did wonder if he thought she had been part of his current state. She hadn't done it consciously, but wouldn't been at all surprised to have been accused of his corruption.

"Pull ye self out of it Fiona." It was so bad she was starting to think she could feel him near and for just a moment believed she was letting her chaotic imaginings take over. It was the hissing of her blade that did alert her that someone was indeed invading her peace and she froze where she sat.

It was a desperate gathering of wandering emotions she was quickly struggling to stuff back into the rattling closet of skeletons within her mind and slowly, her inky black head turned to stare into the darkness just outside the bower of trees. It just was not possible he had dared to follow her. Had he" Would he" Why would he?

Frosty cold green eyes started to narrow now, thinking perhaps it was another one of those Assassins of DV sent to kill her. Tense and expectant now, she rocked up with a lazy motion to her feet. She wouldn't go down without a fight and would be on her feet to face them. They dared hunt her down in a place she considered a private sanctuary and for that someone was going to pay, and pay dearly.

"I have spoken!" The words, a high-pitched mockery of Lucius's last comment, had Daugolozan giggling softly as he moved around his laboratory. Set up in what used to be one of the servant quarters of the upper keep, his laboratory was filled with tables of bubbling beakers and glass tubing, and bookshelves lined the walls. The lich was carefully pouring a mixture into another beaker, still chortling softly. "The utter arrogance of that whelp is astounding."

"Can you blame him?" Zaleena joined softly with his laughter, lounging in the comfortable chair behind Daugolozan's desk, heeled feet resting on its corner. "There's not many who can match him in power, you know." "Yes, but that arrogance will be his downfall, if he is not careful." Setting the beakers on the table, Daugolozan approached the desk and the marilith. "He does not suspect our alliance, I trust?" "As much as I bitch about you, I daresay no." Red lips curling into a smile, Zaleena looked up at the undead man. "Nor does he suspect your true nature, Dauggy dear."

"Excellent." Hands rubbing together, the lich moved around the desk, to caress her cheek almost gently. "Our little ruse is earning dividends already, my dear. I have a lead on two new artifacts already."

"And you want me to try to track them down?" An eager light came into the marilith's emerald green eyes, as she moved to stand. Daugolozan nodded, stepping away to take a parchment from the near table to hand to her. "This is the best direction I have to the first. Follow it, and see what you find." Zaleena gave a quick glance to the parchment, which was rolled up with efficient movements and tucked into the waist of her fluttering skirt. "If DeAuster asks, you're looking for spell components for me."

"Of course." Stepping closer, Zaleena gave the lich her best smile, batting her lashes coyly. "We'll celebrate when I get back, yes?"

"Ah yes, we will celebrate." Teeth flashed as Daugolozan smiled. Zaleena quietly pouted as she turned to head to the door. She was been trying hard to attract DeAuster's attention, the better to control him, but the deathknight seemed oblivious to her charms. And be damned if Daugolozan wasn't reacting either. Alas, she would have to just try harder!

Ice-green eyes narrowed slowly at the sight of him stepping from the veil of trees and her lips took a faintly thin line, but she did return the grumbling dagger to her hip sheath. The snap of the security strap loud to her own ears even as she was battling the rage of emotions rising inside at the mere sight of him. She was reminded momentarily of the first time she had laid eyes upon him, so long ago. For a brief moment, with the darkness and the faint glow of the moon, she was thrown back to the Garden's of Lord Damrin. The lighting making the old Lucius and the new blur for a moment and made her voice sharper then usual, as she battled to get them straight in her swirling thoughts and muffle the sharp pang the memory brought. "What do ye want DeAuster?"

That grave shrouded voice of his sent a chill over her, but it's effect was hidden from his starring crimson eyes. "I wanted to speak to you."

"Why?" She snapped out with a spin and started back to resume her seat under the large tree. Her gaze sought the peaceful view, hoping it would still the turmoil that was sweeping over her senses. She should have known her retreat, would have made him more determined. He had proven that in the past, and apparently that side of him hadn't faded. Glancing at him as he started to move closer and her eyes flickered with irritation before she contained it. In fact, it looked as if he was more unyielding now then before.

"We will be working together closely. Your current behavior will not aid that." The emotionless words caused a muscle in her cheek to jump with the sudden clenching of teeth.

Eyes colder then the arctic cut his way and she smirked faintly. "Ah, I see. Well then, if my "behavior" is a problem for ye, I can always quit. I nae need to work nae more." It was taking all she had not to lash out in some way. She wanted these insane feelings to return to where she had pushed them down deep inside, and left them to rot and was more then willing to do just as she said. She could feel the cracking of the carefully constructed walls she had built around herself and felt a stir of panic. More memories surfacing in light of her racing thoughts, little moments captured like an artist renderings. Meetings in moonlit gardens, serene forests and even out of the way Inns and every last one was designed to torment her.

She could feel his silence, but as she battled to entrap her roiling emotion she just let him have the time to contemplate her offer. She had cast aside such things years back, the moment he had pushed her away. She found she liked her cold life and the lack of emotional upheavals that such frivolous things as "Lust", "Love" and "Passion' could create. History had shown time and time again, how such things could be the downfall of nations and races, so that choice had been an intelligent one.

Only those nights like this, when she sought peace for herself, did she occasionally mourn the loss of her own optimism and even the innocence of her youth, but she did prefer the colder calculations of a wise mind. She wasn't driven by such baser needs like so many around her. Commonly now, her behavior was not motivated by her own urges and she did prefer it. It gave her a certain edge in most instances and allowed her to keep her distance with ease.

She had worked for a Demonic clan for a time, and had been something of an enigma to them, for she hadn't cared to embrace their more hedonistic ways, and hadn't had any trouble at all shunning the advances cast her way. Her cold, emotionless and distant demeanor had held her apart and allowed her to do her job without anything to cloud her judgment. Such was her idea of perfection and she wished nothing to unsettle her perch.

Coming to a stop a few feet away from her and upon hearing her response arms lifted and folded over his armored chest. It was his turn for those red eyes to narrow and likely if she had seen his ruined face she might of caught the sneer, but as it was covered she only noted the stance. "I never thought you a coward Fiona."

For just a moment her eyes flickered with an array of hot emotions but the fire was doused seconds upon springing to life with rigid control. Gloved hands resting on her bent knees flexed but the fists never were born, instead she took some quiet even breaths and then gave a shrug. "Think as ye will. Nae matters to me how ye might take my actions. I gave up decades back wondering, or caring what ye might think of me." A raven brow arching with the arrogant tilt of her chin and her wintry green gaze flicked over him with derision.

"Ye did make that rather plain at the time. Of course I could also thank ye." This time rose pale lips took a bitter turn and she gave a low, frosty laugh. "Ye did teach me that I was a fool and that emotions were a waste of time. Nae to mention that "Love" is but a frivolous illusion, shadows have more substance then such a, " A soft snort floated from her, "vague feeling. Tis but a pretty word to excuse more primal urges and nae anything to waste me time upon."

She could feel the rage growing inside him and the sheer energy it was radiating did have her coming slowly to her feet. Her movements unhurried and she forced them to seem almost casual. Cutting another sharp look his way and just gave a tight brittle little smile. She had one thought coming to her mind and that was simply to get away from him before she lost the tenuous thread she had on her wayward emotions, but she also had some pride and wasn't about to flee, even if her emotions were storming fragile defenses.

"Was there something else ye be requiring then DeAuster?? A nimble step up on the thick bark covered root she was nearly as tall as he was now, and just took a lazy lean against the massive trunk behind her. Her gloved hands now moved towards the low-slung belt riding her slim hips, with thumbs hooking to rest in a casual pose.

Her ice-green eyes now rested upon him, just waiting for some sign or response so she could spring to action. The anger wasn't stilling, in fact she was almost sure it was growing even more ominous. A confusing thing, as she had been the one cast aside, and no matter the reason, the rejection still stung, even if she hated to acknowledge it.

Once he was gone, she could relax, if what she was doing could be called such. She was more in edge then before. A curious thing her anger was more towards herself then him now. True, she felt bitter about him and his place in the past, but the fact was, it was she who had the problem. It came down to her having to stop fighting the reminders and just let them go, maybe it will help her come to grips with the abrupt return of the only man she had allowed herself to love.

Remembering now, with keenly sharp details the first time she had ever laid eyes on him. She had little knowledge then of the impact he would have upon her, but now, against her will she was drawn quickly into those long lost days. Those memories feeling as if they had happened a life time ago.

It had been just another job. She was to find a way to get close to such a politician, a creature of vast vanity and stolen power so the request had claimed. Her father had offered it to her, knowing her own personal dislike of such creatures. She didn't care for their two faced antics and had dispatched a few on her own for the simple pleasure of it. Thus, when the Dubh Order had received this contract, she had been the perfect tool for this illicit operation.

It had taken her some time to find a way to get close to the mark. Each step had been done with great care after all. He was well guarded and his home was fortress of traps both physical and magical. Her usual means of travel appeared to have been recently blocked, meaning to her that he might have gotten some intelligence about his imminent demise.

He was just the type she could enjoy watching the life fade away from. He was seen as something of a hero in the regions he was based, but his secrets were as dark as the abyss. The veil of goodness that he wore appeared to work on most, but she did have some inside information about Lord Damrin's dark closet of snakes.

It wasn't that he was more evil then good that irritated her. On the contrary, that would have amused her. It was his belief that he was above everyone else. He was better then the rest. He didn't have to answer to anyone and could do as he liked, and he would never be caught. This was where she found the disgust rising. This creature thought he was on the side of good, yet condoned actions against those he felt were his enemy in the most devious of forms. It was a trait many of those self proclaimed "Do-Gooders's" often did. To her, this was it's own sin. It's own form of evil. One shouldn't hide what they truly were.

Not to mention, she had discovered over time, that those that claimed right to the "Good" and "Light' were far more inclined to back stabbing, betrayal and out right murder, all in the name of "Right". Their "Right".

It then took her a few weeks to get into a position for action. Using a few of her father's ties, she took on the role of which she had been born and yet usually sought to avoid. A visiting Noble's daughter from Sarion, recently sent on a tour of the regions of Zymiar. Of course she didn't use her real last name, but by using the contacts was able to slide comfortably into the guise she knew rather well and into the very circles Damrin traveled.

With some slight manipulations upon one particularly greedy family, seeking a rich connection, she was offered a place to rest and relax for a few days before continuing on with her travels. While there, an invitation to a formal ball was then gifted. It was all rather simple really. Such societies seldom look past the appearance to what lay beneath a pretty surface. Not to mention, Ladies of breeding, simply didn't fall into the category of dangerous. At least not in the minds of those she now found herself associated with.

While she had a certain confidence when it came to her chosen profession, she found the antics of the Upper Classes rather a vapid affair. It was true her own linage was as pure and regal as their own, her upbringing was not a study in insipid giggling and vacant thought. So, even as she did attempt to blend in, her nature alone made her stand out as a rather serious young lady. She often heard the comments, said under a breath or under an over laced fan, that she was odd.

"Must be living out there without proper associations I wager." One feather headed Miss commented.

"Lucky she has money or she would be on the shelf forever." Another patronizing matron was over heard.

This hardly caused a moment of concern. She didn't need to fit into this world for long, thankfully. This would be her own personal vision of hell. She was not seeking a Husband, having little need for such forms of protections. Nor was she vain. Shallow was simply not a part of her nature and after looking on upon an entire region of it; she thanked the Goddess she had been blessed with a full functioning brain.

The night of Ball was a clear one. Stars shimmering like silver dust in the black sky. The home of Damrin was lit up with bright lights and candles lost in tinsel flowers that lined the drive. If one was of a whimsical mind, it could have been called Magical by its very design. He spared little for cost in this display of power and wealth and it showed in the opulence.

She had refused to adorn herself in the common pale shades favored by the current fashion. The mere thought of wearing anything pastel had nearly made her ill, not to mention, she might need to flee swiftly, and a light colored garment would hardly aid such a flight. Hence, she had chosen to wear an emerald green velvet dress instead. Red would have been better for it did hide bloodstains, but at the horrified look on her hostesses face at the suggestion, she had to alter this rather swiftly. Claiming she had only been making such a quip in jest.

With every known manner of pomp, they were lead into the massive ballroom. Joining the already large crowd of guests under the sparkling candle lit chandeliers. Knowing only to well it would be some time before she could slip away unnoticed, she forced herself to smile and be introduced to Societies elite.

Eventually, she managed to excuse herself and slipped out into the dark gardens for a breath of air and a means of getting a fast look at the lay of the lands, as was her habit. She never failed to determine the best routes of escape before committing to any job and this one would be no different.

It was outside where she first saw the man. While the darkness masked his features, his aura was a touch hard to miss for one of her unique nature. Few in this realm were what she could call holy, but this one, gave off the light of being the real thing. Ice green eyes watched as he spoke with one of the Lords and her sharp ears strained to hear, but the soft rose scented breeze caught the words from her attempts making this impossible.

"What in the Goddess's name is a Paladin doing here?" Was the thought as she continued to watch from the safe veil of shadows. For how long the two men stood there she could not say, but eventually they parted company with the customary salute of hands and still she watched as he returned to the sparkling room inside.

It was the inkling of worry now that brushed over her mind. Her dagger was hissing, having felt the presence and was hardly helping alleviate the sudden sense of unease. She wasn't used to such emotions and with her usual calm reasoning, decided to find out just why one of those Holy Creatures was here. His attendance could conceivably ruin her plans and that hardly pleased her.

Determined, she turned and quietly slipped back inside. It took her only a few moments to locate her prey, amidst the thong of pale dresses, satin tunics and military uniforms. One single passing thought about how he also looked just slightly out of place among the strutting peacocks before she brushed it aside and set about discovering who he was and why he was in Balevar this very night.

She was not one for pursuing the opposite sex. She had little time for the frivolous foolishness of liaisons or even casual romps, however, even she could admire this man. He stood well above the other men in the room, exuding a certain confident dignity that the rest lacked in this realm of vanity. The long shag of auburn hair and trimmed beard gave him a wild look that stood out. It was obvious he was not from this Balevar, but again, the fission of unease fluttered along tensing nerves. Why was he here"

His posture alone told her he was Military. The sword at his side made her skin crawl in the most unpleasant manner, but this did not deter her, not at all. She had never let the unexpected shake her, and she wasn't about to start now. Paladin or not, she would finish out the contract.

With a few carefully placed queries, she learned his name. She also had her own swift perceptions confirmed. He was not from here, but was said to be a Foreign Dignitary. Hardly a post she needed to fear. He was military as well, but the rank seemed to escape the simpletons she questioned. This information soon relieved much of her concerns. He wasn't a worry for her apparently and was only here as just another guest to this over stuffed party.

It was that cold tickling that raced up her spine that warned her, mere moments before she heard the voice of one of her recent informants calling to her. Upon turning her tension returned with a fury along with the suddenly intense heat rising on her thigh where her demon dagger rested.

Her careful attempt at casual interest had sparked the heart of a matchmaker, who was now attempting to drag this DeAuster the Paladin towards her. Her knowledge of such classes was slightly limited. She had the basics, but as she didn't know his true power, this might get ugly very swiftly. He would sense her true nature if she wasn't careful.

Drawing upon every discipline she had, she sought to mask the half he would likely detect. It was likely one of the most difficult tasks she had attempted in some time and the strain would cost her later, this she knew. However, she could hardly run now. That would draw unwanted attention and that she simply couldn't have. Instead, she pasted a polite smile on her face and braced for impact.

The faint wince as they were introduced, told her quickly she had not been successful in fully masking the Half Demon side. Luckily, there was several people around her and if he didn't look to close, he might not realize it was coming from her. The trick would be to keep this little introduction quick.

"Lady Fiona. May I introduce Lucius DeAuster. He's an Ambassador from one of those Clannish Realms. The name escapes me at the moment." The lady beamed a broad smile up at the slightly pained looking man.

"Lord DeAuster, This is the Lady Fiona, she's cousin to the Duke of Sarion."

If he was one of those that could detect lies, he would find only truth. She was Lady Fiona and she was cousin to Parllan, but after that, it did become slightly murky. Digging deep inside, she turned on her most charming of smiles and offered a velvet green hand towards him. "Tis" lovely to meet ye Milord."

"Milady." Came his response in a low deep voice and bowed with just enough effort to be barely polite over the splayed fingers.

Unable to bring herself to giggle in the manner common of the ladies here, she offered a quiet laugh instead, while drawing her fingers away. Pity he was of a Holy Order as even that innocuous touch had created a bit of confusion internally. Part found it appealing and the other side and shuddered in revulsion. "What bring ye to our fair land Milord?"

"Business." Just that one word and he seemed to need some air. His brow darkening slightly as it was suddenly assaulted by a severe headache. "If you will excuse me Ladies." And away he went, not looking back.

"Well!" The matchmaker huffed. "That was rather rude, don't ye think Lady Fiona."

"Nay, nay. He must be a very busy man. Ambassadors usually are. Now, I must find some refreshment. If ye will excuse me Milady Tristina." Waiting as was expected for a response before she fled.

"Oh yes dear. Do get some of that lovely fruit wine. It's divine really."

"Ah, yes. That sounds just the thing. Thank ye Milady."

Freedom! She was off. Gliding towards the doors towards the garden. The Paladin wasn't a threat after all. She had managed to withstand a full on confrontation without notice. Her disguise was still intact, even if her nerves yet danced about from the brief contact of hands.

"Should have used the Succubi smile on the creature." Garith hissed as she paused in the darkness of the garden and prepared.

"One doesn't do that in mixed company Imp." She whispered while brushing the skirt down over her legs and took a quick survey of the upper floors from that vantage point in the darkened garden paths.

"Aww, but it would be so much fun to try and corrupt the Holy." A snickering, devious laugh followed.

"Aye, perhaps, but I nay have time for such. Besides, tis" possible he would be immune."

"Not likely! I wager he isn't." More bubbling hisses falling from the blade now resting in her velvet fingers.

"Tis" possible he is, now hush up ye babbling beast. We have a contract to fulfill."

"I will shut up if you at least try the smile on the next Holy One we see."

"Aye, fine ye pesky demon. If I see him again, I shall throw a lingering dream upon his thoughts. Satisfied?" Ice green eyes flashing as she glowered down at the blade just hissing in her hand.

"Oh! Oh...Wonderful! I shall hold ye to that promise!" He then fell to silence as he agreed and she slipped smoothly into the shadows to locate the prey.

Senses stretching with the aid of shadowy Sentries, she found many of the usual wards of the place had been lowered for this stuffy gathering and smirked to herself. Unseen eyes sent back impressions in a collage of colors and snippets of words. Even at the chaos of which she was well used to, she caught her prey's location and was off, slipping easily into the embracing night.

Others were with him, she noted and prepared to wait for as long as needed for him to be alone. She amused herself by taking Damrin's companion's measure. Most looked as over blown as he was.

"A dim witted lot Eh Mistress?" The mental hissing of Garith floated over her thoughts and she could only agree. "One thinks that even if ye fell into sight, they wouldn't even notice."

"Oh I think they would." For one younger man did seem to be shifting uncomfortably and looking around. It was as if he could sense he was being watched. Odd, most in this realm were usually to self-centered to notice what time of day it was let alone be sensitive enough to feel anything other worldly. Not only that, it was that one who fled first. Making some rushed excuses and moving out the door as it already hunted.

Once he was gone the rest slowly followed Her target actually remained behind. Placing the array of papers into the desk and locking it, in what she found a slightly nervous manner. Making one mental note to collect those papers before she departed, for not only did the Dubh Order deal in assassinations, but also found information to be very lucrative.

Easing from the pocket of a deep corner shadow, she moved up behind Damrin without disturbing even the air. In mere seconds he sank face down over his desk into his own growing pool of blood. He didn't even have a moment to cry for help for it happened that fast. While it was true she would have liked to make him suffer just a little longer, the location and the level of guards surrounding the place made such pleasure wasteful and dangerous.

Yanking the drawer open with the splintering of the lock that had contained those papers, she peered at them a moment then efficiently gathered them up and slipped them into the bodice of her dress with a faint smirk at the blood happy dagger. "I am thinking this little contract might prove to be vastly profitable eh Garith?"

Even as the demon blade gurgled in agreement he was carefully wiped upon the satin doublet of Damrin. "I did get just a touch nervous when that Novice Paladin was here, but it seemed that worry was unfounded. He ran like a scared little puppy!"

Fiona froze then. The words echoing in her head then her teeth snapped with lips pursing into a tight line. "Damn!" Before she sheathed the dagger, she dragged its tip down over the edge of the restricting skirt. Sliding Garith home, her fingers tore the offending garment from well above her knees, leaving only the stocking clad legs exposed. "Looks like it will be a bit of flight and fight after all."

Even before she had tossed the length of cloth into the waiting shadows, the door crashed open and there the light already blazing openly from the full blown Paladin poured into the room, nearly blinding her. Not only that, he had effectively blocked any shadow avenues of escape for the glow sent them fleeing at it's very touch.

Undeterred, she moved with preternatural speed towards the window. So fast that it would have appeared as if her feet hadn't even touched the floor. Below the moat waited, but she wasn't concerned about taking a dip. It was that foul sanctified sword being drawn that had her tensing up well-deserved apprehension.

Eyes meeting for a moment, hers narrowed and intent in a mirroring of his, but the Paladin's also glinted with some religious fervor she never would understand. Then, they widened with surprise, a surprise she took full advantage of and smoothly swung her legs up on the window ledge.

"Smile at it!!" Hissed the dagger, vibrating with stinging heat on her thigh." You promised! Smile at it! Throw it off guard!?

Muttering for a moment as her gaze dated towards the wavering of that sword and what pain such a thing could inflict on one of her kind. It was due to that she simply reacted. If the action slowed him down even a little, it would be all she needed to escape undamaged. Thus, she unleashed that farewell smile. Using an arsenal of demonic abilities and every expendable bit of power she could afford in it's offering.

This was not a commonly used weapon for her, so she was also startled at the stunned expression that fell over the Holy Man's face, but she didn't wait to see for how long. Instead, she slipped from the window like an autumn leaf from a tree, letting the air catch her and pull her safely into the shadows that waited long before the icy cold waters of the moat could claim her.

She shook herself from her memories, realizing the hour was growing late and she still needed to rest. Rising with a lazy stretch from the seat on the tree and in seconds was melting into the shadows.

A few minutes later and she was entering the austere apartment she held in the city. It was a pristine place, uncluttered and elegant, but there wasn't any of her own personality found at first glance. In truth, where one might learn about her was back at her father's own Keep, here, was but a place to rest and little more. She wasted little time in shedding her leathers and was soon bathing away the grim of the earlier fight and checking the various injuries with a sort of detached air. Some bruises a few cuts, all already starting to heal with her half demonic nature.

Such an amusing thing, were as she might have corrupted Lucius, her involvement with him, had woken her demon side, and the little things like the faster speed of healing was just one of the bonuses along with more then a few drawbacks as well. Back then she hadn't been able to heal as swiftly without aid.

With her thoughts roaming she was dropping into the large canopied bed and pulling up the covers, feeling the crisp sheets dragging against her aching form and just sighed. Chilled nights like this also didn't help contain the memories either.

At least her dreams wouldn't interfere with his, for she doubted he slept and soon enough she was drifting off into the quiet rest and reverie, the one memory from earlier just continuing to play even as she slept.

As he silently stood watching the slumbering city, soft-glowing eyes gleaming under hsi drawn hood, his thoughts were unknowingly echoing hers. Replaying the snippet of memory from his perspective....

"Good evening, milord." Half-bowing, the butler stepped back as the cloaked figure crossed the threshold. "Master Ranulf is expecting you." Stepping through the threshold, the other reached up to pull back his hood, shaking water from the shoulder-length hair as it settled.

"I see that your master is entertaining tonight." Even in the antechamber he could hear the music drifting through the halls, though it had been the carriages outside that had tipped him off. The butler nodded as he shut the door.

"Yes, milord. Lord Ranulf is celebrating Maileens Harvest. However, he instructed that you be brought to his study, and he assures me his business with you is urgent." The part of the manse he led the silent paladin was markedly quieter, the sounds of the party quickly dying away. Drawing a small key from a vest-pocket, the butler opened a door and motioned Lucius inside. The smell of aged paper assailed him immediately and, as lamps were lit and raised, he saw two walls filled with shelves of books. "Master Ranulf shall be with you shortly."

Left to his own, Lucius slowly made a circuit of the room. Ranulf's tastes tended toward the exorbitant, if the ornate desk was any indication. He briefly wondered how many months a family could eat with the money this one piece of furniture would bring, and then dismissed the subject from his thoughts. Across from the desk a large window gave view to the Correll Manor's gardens. Occasional lightning flashes lit the garden in stark relief, manicured bushes towering under low-lying clouds before being plunged into darkness again. A foul night for this business, he thought, a brief look of distaste crossing his features as he turned away from the window to peruse the bookcases. Ranulf's taste in books didn't impress him either, for many dealt with esoteric subjects or ancient empires.

Perhaps it was circumstances of the request of this meeting, or perhaps it was the weather, but a clinging unease ran down his spine. The feeling that events were about to explode. The feeling he had felt many a time during his career. It was not a feeling he liked, but he also drew comfort from it. The feeling meant Leorne was with him, serving his paladin champion even as he was served in kind.

The opening door drew him out of his reverie, and he turned as the master of the manor entered the study. Ranulf Correll was not an impressive figure by any means, though he wasn't going to fat like many nobles Lucius had dealt with in the past. After making sure the door was secure, Ranulf moved over and extended a hand. Lucius returned the gesture, resisting the brief urge to give a hard squeeze. "Lord Correll, I am Lucius DeAuster. I have been sent regarding your message to the Towers of Justice."

"Yes, yes, to be sure." A wan smile tugged at Ranulf's lips as he moved behind his desk. "I'm pleased the church sent someone so quickly, and in this weather." A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a loud peal of thunder. "Such weather, indeed. I apologize for your wait. Host duties and all that..."

"Your servant, milord." If Ranulf caught the sarcasm laced in the paladin's reply, he ignored it, choosing rather to continue. Ignoring the nobleman's wave to an empty chair, he waited for Ranulf to continue.

"Yes, let us get on with business then." Cupping his hands before him, Ranulf stared up to the paladin. "Have you heard of the shadowweave?" Lucius shook his head, prompting Ranulf to continue. "There are theories that suggest a dark mirror to the traditional weave of magic. Rumors run rampant of spellcasters that can manipulate the very shadows to their own ends. "

"Merely stories to frighten children and apprentices." The paladin grunted, folding his arms before him. "Or figments of the imagination."

"Noble one, how do you then explain wraiths" Spectres" Or shadows?" Lord Correll stood and moved from behind his desk, and over to a small table next to the bookshelf. His lean fingers lifted to caress the box sitting there. "Incorporeal undead, but darker than your mere ghost."

"All you just named are aberrations and undead." Irritation was now clearly evident in Lucius's tone, head turning so he could keep Correll in sight. "Each was cast from the light of grace, and exists in the darkness of evil." The words came easily, even though his teaching had been years before.

"So are vampires and ghouls." Ranulf countered. "However, neither of those can walk through walls."

"If THAT is your argument for your theories, then you're wasting my time." Lucius started to turn toward the door, but was stayed by an upraised hand.

"My proof is in here." Beaming, Ranulf opened the lid of the box, lifting a small cloth-covered object out and setting it on the table. Engrossed as he was, he missed the scrunching of DeAuster's eyes, and the hand that drifted down to rest on his sword-pommel. "This, my friend, will prove all the 'stories" true." Reverently, he lifted the cloth, brining into view a grinning skull. Far from ordinary, however, it had a dusky-grey pallor, and one almost imagined wisps of vapor surrounded it. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Not the word I would use for it." Lucius stepped forward, narrowed eyes on the skull. "There is a taint on this." A hand came up, almost as if reaching to touch the skull, then drew back. "And how does this"thing prove what you say."

Placing the cloth back over the skull, Ranulf turned to Lucius, excitement in his features. "These remains were found near the edge of The Wastes, buried deep within one of the caves there." He kept his hand resting atop the covered skull as he spoke. "The remnants bore clothing similar to that found in the remains of ancient Karathas. But the equipment this person bore was in good condition. Not aged as we would expect." The nobleman drew out a small sheath of papers from the box. "Thus, I asked for a church representative to come and help our investigation with a divination." Lucius had been slowly glancing between Ranulf and the table, and now focused on the nobleman.

"Divination?" He was sure the look on his face mirrored the surprise in his voice, his control starting to slip. "Why in Leorne's name would you want a divination?"

If Ranulf caught the tone, he ignored it. A trait many nobles seem to possess, Lucius briefly thought, watching Ranulf set the papers aside before he turned to the paladin. "The findings that I have made are going to change everything we know about magic. Perhaps even the way we consider our place in the universe. To date this unfortunate's clothing and weapons would be the proverbial icing on the cake!"

"And this is why you contacted the Towers?" Lucius snapped, interrupting the oration. "You bring me here, show me a greyed skull, and spout stories about shadows-this and shadow-that!" His eyes bore into Ranulf's, letting that transmit his anger as well as his words. "And then you want us to bring ourselves before our god to date a pile of relics" Lord Correll, with the utmost respect, the Tower's of Justice cannot chase after dreams."

Correll sputtered, clearly not used to being spoken to in that manner, but quickly refound his voice. "Sir, your church operates on the sufferage of the Lord's Council. I have some influence there. Like it or not, you and your fellow clergy will chase after this 'dream", as you so quaintly put it."

Lucius opened his mouth to reply, but a flaring of pain in his head brought him about, sword arcing up and across in a slashing motion. Sparks flew as his blade met another and batted it away. Just as quickly it came back in, to be met by his blade again. Lucius had no time to figure out where this attacker had come from, he was hard pressed to get his sword up to parry each slash and cut.

Ranulf, for his part, had not initially seen what had brought Lucius about in such a violent way, and was about to admonish him when the intruder danced into view. His words turned into a shriek of fright, and the nobleman pressed back against the bookcase as the other two circled, trading blows. Even had he thought of running for the door, his legs refused to obey him.

Bringing the holy avenger across in a horizontal swipe, Lucius jerked back as his opponent lunged in, and felt the sting of it's blade along the back of his arm. Like his dodge, Lucius's returning slash was also a bit slow, the tip of his blade entangling in the obscuring mask and ripping it away. The pale skin and flowing black hair thus revealed was a shock, and the paladin almost fell victim to a blow that, had it landed, would have opened his throat ear to ear.

Her! Though some time had passed, those features were unmistakable. Some years before, Lucius had been sent to the land of Belevar, to oversee the current state of the church therein. While there, he had been asked to attend a ball given by a Lord Damrin. During the course of the night, the lord was killed by the woman he now faced again. Ever since, in his free time he had searched for any clue to her identity, but had found nothing.

Often had Lucius wished for a second meeting and Tyr be blessed, here was that chance! With every bit of vigor he could muster, Lucius slammed into his foe, seeking to take her off balance. She was better than that, though, not only blocking and dodging each blow, but his armor was scored by several nicks from the gleaming blade she wielded. The paladin found himself pivoting in place, working desperately to bring the holy avenger around to deflect the hissing dagger.

One small part of his mind wondered at the cessation of Ranulf's wailing, and that bit of distraction cost him. Fingers snaked around his throat and shoulder suddenly, choking the air away and forcing his guard to drop. The woman came straight in, her blade slipping neatly into the seam of his breastplate and slicing deep into his side. Pain blossomed like a dark flower inside him, Evilkiller dropped to the floor as the most intense cold the paladin had ever known seeped into his system. There was a backward jerk, and he was slammed to the floor, the blade forcefully withdrawn. His opponent hopped atop his prone form, knees pinning his arms in place.

Time slowed, and every detail of the milieu came into focus for the paladin. Searing pain in his side sharpened, along with the smell of well-used leathers. Tips of pale ears visible through the curls of ebon hair. Ranulf, on his knees near the table, hands clawing at his throat. Piercing green eyes boring into his own. Lucius knew, he was about to die.

Only, that didn't happen. Leaning over, the woman pressed full lips to his in a hungry kiss. And, to his surprise, he responded! An arm came up, snaking around her waist as he drew her close, sealing to her in way he had never done before. It seemed to last forever before she arose, tongue flicking over his top lip as she pulled away. Lightly hopping to her feet, she ran the few feet to the table, scooping up the skull and papers there and dumping them back into the box. The blade was slid away, the box collected under one arm, her other hand grasping the back of a chair. Spinning, she sent it sailing with ease through the window, glass flying into the garden along with the chair.

Levering up on an elbow, trying to fight back the pain of his wound, Lucius watched as she turned and smiled wickedly at him before seeming to melt away. Ranulf fell forward onto his stomach, audibly gasping for much needed air. Wincing, Lucius fell back again against the desk, holding a hand over his stomach while struggling to concentrate. Dimly he was aware of pounding on the door, and the splintering of the frame as Corell's house guard battered their way in. Drawing deep into his reserves, the paladin felt the healing touch of his god wash through him, knitting veins and muscle easily, though the lingering cold was present. Unsteady at first, he pulled himself to his feet and reclaimed his sword.

"Someone alert the watch. Be on the lookout for a dark-haired woman, pale of flesh but very quick." Not bothering to wait for a reply, Lucius passed through the shattered window in pursuit.

Now, where in the hells would she have gone" Pondering the question as he loped down one of the dimly-lit streets, Lucius soon stopped at one of the many intersections. Looking first left, and then right, the paladin growled in annoyance. Think, DeAuster, think! She's faster than you, so outthink her! A back way out of this part of the city, the wall!

Spinning on one heel, he took off at a swift jog, heading for the black wall that marked the outer edge of Straddleford. The alleyways there were almost completely dark, allowing for a swift road for one accustomed to such paths. Behind he heard the heavy tread of the city guard, no doubt with Correll's houseguard now, following him down the streets. He put that out of his mind, setting his focus on the chase. As he neared the edge of the Noble Quarter Lucius slowed, stretching out with his god-aided senses. To the left! The mouth of a tight alleyway beckoned him, and Lucius plunged in.

There was just enough light to avoid plowing into stacks of boxes and trash, and for him to see a dim figure near the end of the thankfully-blind alley. Lucius acted without thinking, throwing up a hand and calling upon Leorn, brining into being an intense ball of light above the alleyway. The shadows fled, leaving the figure, and indeed it was the woman, acutely visible. Still cradling the box stolen from the manor under one arm, she spun about to face Lucius, the hissing dagger firmly in hand. "How?"

Her voice was like cool rain to him, though why, Lucius did not know. Evilkiller leveled at his opponent, he cautiously stepped closer. "You cannot run from justice, murderer." Even as he uttered the words, he could hear the yells of the men following behind. Undoubtedly they had seen the light he had cast, and were closing. "You..cannot run." He said, softer this time. Do not hesitate! His mind screamed. Take her now!

The elf-woman also stepped closer, her blade slowly wavering from side to side. Her eyes darted toward the mouth of the alleyway, though Lucius knew, as he was sure she did, that she could not get past him. Looking to him again, her head cocked slightly to one side, almost quizzically. He returned the stare, again for a long second, then two, before his free hand came up, and dismissed the light. Immediately the alley was plunged into darkness again, lit by the flashes of lightning overhead. The end of the alleyway was empty, the woman having disappeared again. A neat trick. He said to himself as he sheathed Evilkiller. The voices of the men were almost upon him, and he knew not how to explain this. Nor how to explain the chase's result to the head of his order.

The decision was taken from him, in the form of a pale hand that suddenly grabbed his left shoulderguard and pulled him into the darkness. For a brief instant Lucius felt as though he was falling into the Abyss, then solid footing was his again. Blinking rapidly, he saw he was on a near rooftop, across from the alleyway. Already soldiers were entering below, torches throwing shadows against the buildings across the street. She stood beside him, only a few feet away. Her own weapon was put away, the box rested on the roof beside her.

Neither spoke, but merely stared at one another. Lucius knew he should move to attack, take her while he could. Call out for help. Anything! These logical thoughts warred with something else deep in him, something he hadn't even realized before now he had. And he could see it mirrored in her own eyes. Almost simultaneously they stepped closer, finding the arms of the other in a hard embrace. Lucius bent down to kiss her, ignoring the pounding in his head, the screaming of his teachings, and the rain that started to fall. All he knew was her, until he again fell into the Abyss.

—————

Distant thunder awoke him, and it took a moment for Lucius to piece together where he was. He lay on a large bed, half-covered by a sheet that felt like the softest satin. And beside him she lay asleep. Fiona, he had finally learned her name. Her hair drifted across the pillows like a fan, almost obscuring her features. Slowly he sat up and slid to the bed's edge, pausing to look back at her sleeping form, then to the room itself. Pieces of armor, clothing and leather were strewn throughout the large bedchamber, and in the corner was his weapons-belt. It would be so easy now, but he made no move toward it, instead grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist as he moved to the half-open doors and onto the balcony.

The house he was currently in was in the Merchant's Quarter of the city, and the second-floor balcony gave a wonderful view of the sleeping city. The storm had moved further east, though lightning still flashed on occasion across the sky. Resting his hands on the wooden rail, he closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over him, hoping it would settle the turmoil he felt. But it didn't help.

There was a faint rustling of cloth, and a moment later Fiona joined him on the balcony, tying the sash on a cotton robe. She breathed deeply of the moist air, and then looked up to him. "Ye have the look of someone with something on his mind." She stepped closer, a hand coming to rest on his arm. Softer, "Do ye want to talk about it?"

"This should not have happened." He said bluntly, the low words putting to words his crux. "I"we"it should not have happened." Glancing over to her, Lucius saw Fiona's eyes narrow slightly, and knew again, they mirrored his own.

"And why is that, Lucius?" Fiona asked simply. The question carried the weight of a rebuke, something he was not prepared for. He turned more fully to her now.

"You know why, Fiona. What you are, what I am." His hands splayed outward in a sign of confusion. "We are diametrically opposites."

"Oh yes, you're one of the noble. A paladin." Venom fairly dripped from the last word as she removed her hand from Lucius" arm. "You're the righteous arm of the faith, the one who brings justice for all." She snorted at her own sarcasm.

"You're right. I am a paladin, just as you are a murderer, a thief, and Leorn only knows what else you have done." The words came out in a rush, and Lucius realized he had said too much. Fiona's eyes fairly blazed in the candlelight from the room, and almost seemed to turn a shade of crimson.

"Murderer" HAH!" Snapping her fingers, Fiona spun to stalk to the end of the balcony, then turned back. "This, coming from a man who once sought to wipe out the goblinoids of the Dawnsbreak Mountains." She referred to a campaign two years before that Lucius, as a paladin lord of the church, had taken part. Several tribes of goblins had moved from the higher Dawnsbreak Mountains into the foothills near the old forest, and Queen Dorothy Scotts of Verrok had ordered her army to drive the tribes off. Three had been wiped out, the others fled back to their mountain warrens. Lucius started to reply, and then stopped himself, closing his mouth again.

Fiona, however, continued. " I'll make a deal with you, Lucius. IF you can answer my question, I'll go with you. I'll turn myself in, with no resistance. But only if you answer my question." After a moment, Lucius nodded assent. Taking a step closer, Fiona's voice lowered slightly, but still held the hard edge. "How is the killing of a nobleman who tortures the homeless any different from the massacre of a goblin tribe that has not attacked anyone at all??

"Amazing the silence, when one cannot answer." He growled softly to himself. Today, these many years later, he still did not have an answer.

Memories are funny things. They surface at the oddest times, interjecting themselves into situations where they can be the most distracting. Even more so are the memories of the past that one might wish to remain buried. No matter how much one seeks to lock them away, they always manage to squeeze out again

And the undead are not immune, either....

"The snows are coming early this year." Sir Herzog looked up into the low-lying clouds with a hint of distaste, the expression turning sour as Lucius chuckled softly from where he rode beside him. "You laugh now, but wait until we have to patrol in the mess."

"If the snows get too bad, we won't have to worry about it." Lucius replied as he reigned in his horse to lean over and present their papers to the gate guard. "We'll just scale back our patrols, since even orcs won't travel in waist-deep snow."

"Wasn't orcs I was worried about." The knight growled softly, kicking his horse's flank as the two entered the city of Talcear. The two had started from Ravensfast two days ago, pausing only to rest the horses, even taking turns dozing in the saddle and riding through the night to beat the weather. While Lucius had personal business in Talcear Herzog was continuing south toward Bastion, to meet a new recruit arriving from Dragons Land.

"Herzog, you worry too much." Lucius laughed softly, and reigned up beside a fountain. Leaning over, he clasped arms with Herzog, "I'll see you in four days."

"Aye. Be well, milord." Herzog saluted formally, then reigned around and spurred his mount down the street toward the south gate. Lucius continued straight, coming to a stop about five minutes later before a public stable. A few moments later, he was walking briskly down the street, his cloak pulled close to ward away the slow-falling snow.

He felt the disturbance before he heard the voices, kept low, coming from down a side alley. His curiosity piqued, Lucius turned to move down the alley, but was stopped at its head by one of the city guard. "You cannot pass."

A brow rose slightly at that, and a heavy-gloved hand pulled back the edge of his cloak to reveal the clenched-fist-aflame emblem of the church of Leorn. The guard's eyes widened slightly, and his moment of surprise was enough for the paladin to slip around him and move down the alleyway. To his left was a half-closed door, suspicious eyes peering around the doors edge at the commotion outside. The sign above the door proclaimed it the "Hoarfrost Tavern." One of the many dives half-hidden around the city.

Another guard moved to bar his progress, and again Lucius flashed the emblem. "I am a representative of the Tri-Spires of Leorn." Lucius growled softly, invoking one of the ranks he held in this realm.

"A representative well away from his home base." Another spoke from near the shadows, and as Lucius looked that way he noted the flinch of the guard. "Your name?" Lucius felt an edge of anger creep along his spine at the imperious tone, and in turn the edge crept into his reply.

"Lord Lucius DeAuster, Knight of the Ordos Militant and master of the landhold of Ravensfast." The shadow next to the guard shifted at the other stepped into the half-light between the two buildings. Even taller than Lucius, the lanky build was offset by the fine chain mail vestment the man wore. Glittering snow-blue eyes bore into the paladin from above a black silk scarf that masked the man's features from view. But the most startling feature was the emblem on the bared vestment, a flaming fist before a set of scales.

"Well met, Lord DeAuster." The briefest of nods accompanied the introduction, and with the emblem in evidence Lucius was lucky to receive that. "Lord Torg Margeth, of the Ordos Hereticant." The paladin's eyes narrowed slightly as he returned the nod of greeting, even as his mind raced. It was not often one met a member of the church's inquisitorial branch, even less often one of the feared Lord Questioners. There was a certain amount of enmity between the two orders, as many of the Lords Militant thought the methods of the Hereticant crossed the line they were sworn to defend.

"And what brings a Lord Questioner into the alleys of Talcear?" Lucius asked, almost conversationally as he moved to peer past the two. Margeth's hand came to his shoulder to press him back, but a scathing look had the hand releasing him. Even the most headstrong would not bar another lord of the church, not without good reason.

It was nasty to behold. Three men lay in the alleyway, mingled blood splattered along the walls and on the ground. One lay curled at the base of the wall, cold hands clutched at his stomach. A second's legs were visible through the smashed remains of a shipping crate. And the third lay sprawled in a doorway, eyes staring up at nothing. At a glance, the two had been savaged, and he felt fairly certain that the one in the box was also, given the amount of blood. "Who is he?"

"Lord Dynvan Carraent." Margeth replied, after he had sent the guards to the mouth of the alleyway with a hand motion. Lucius nodded slowly at the reply. Part of the war that was flaring up again. He was already considering what to do about the situation as he regarded the corpses. As his fingers rubbed his chin Lucius realized his question had gone unanswered.

"And why does a clan-murder attract the Hereticant?" He turned to stare at the other man, who returned the look evenly.

"There is a taint about this place, Lord DeAuster. Surely even you can sense it?" Again, a flaring of anger, this time at the demeaning tone Margeth used. "I have been sent by the Council to investigate alarming rumors that has been reported by loyal members of the clergy."

Lucius bristled at the accusatory tone, but he refused to take the verbal bait. "Indeed. I will be certain to pass word of your diligence to the Tri-Spires." Each read the other perfectly, and after a moment Margeth nodded slowly.

"Aye, well and done." Lucius returned the nod as he turned to leave the alleyway. In truth, it was as much to get away from the inquisitor as it was to return to his own business. Behind him, Margeth watched the paladin turn onto the street, his eyes narrowing over the silk scarf.

Lucius passed through the small crowds in the streets as he headed toward the inn he would be staying in for the next few days, absent nods to the ladies given as he hurried along. Herzogs trip to Bastion had come at the perfect time. He had received Fiona's message just days earlier, and had been thrilled at the prospect of her being so close. It had been easy to explain the trip and stopover, instead of traveling on to Bastion.

He paused at an inter-section turning left toward the open-air bazaar a few streets down. Even with the approaching winter intrepid traders were plying their wares in covered stalls. Lucius slowly walked down the small aisles, perusing the goods on display, though he studiously bypassed the gaudy red tent near one corner. While he knew slavery was legal in this realm, he personally abhorred it. Even catching the quick glimpse of the tent set his back on fire again. He wondered briefly how Fiona would take in the sight of his back now.

Keeping the soft growl to himself he turned back, heading for the entrance of the bazaar. The guards stationed at the entrance were given a curt nod as he passed, and then he again turned aside on impulse, stepping into a small shop he had just spotted. A small bell chimed as the door closed behind him and warmth surrounded him as he pulled his hood back.

Falls of silky fabrics surrounded him in an ocean of color and styles, and the paladin had no idea where to start looking. He was rescued by the arrival of a young woman bustling in from the back, wrapping a thick shawl around her shoulders. "Good morning! What kin I do for ye today?"

"I'm looking for a gift." Lucius replied after a few seconds hesitation. In truth, he had no idea what to do or get. The woman seemed to sense his nervousness, as she chuckled softly to herself.

"Ah now, milord, would this be for ye mistress, mayhap?" That brought a hard glance, and this time there was no hesitation in his reply.

"No. This is for my ladylove." He was looking at a nightgown folded neatly on a shelf, gloved fingers lightly touching the delicate material.

"My pardon, lord. I nae meant any offense." The clerk turned to look at her stock. "Perhaps ye could tell me what the lovely looks like, and I can help ye with the choice?"

Soon, Lucius was walking down the street with carefully wrapped packages in his arms. The shopkeeper had been helpful indeed, for when he had told her about Fiona's inky-black hair and pale skin, she had picked out a shimmering black silk nightgown and diaphanous robe. "Imported silk from deep within the Expanse, milord. Ye ladylove will look simply beautiful in it!" Lucius had agreed as he looked at the flowing silk and lace inserts, already seeing Fiona in the gown. The keep had further piled on stockings and other undergarments, insisting they completed the outfit. She had tried to sell Lucius shoes also, but he had been firm on that. Except for the one time, when he had first met Fiona, he could not remember seeing her in anything other than boots or barefoot. In the end he had bought a pair of slippers, as he had started to feel the urge to continue.

Ahead he could see the sign proclaiming the Paladin's Coin, where he was to meet Fiona when she arrived. Packages carefully held under one arm, he pulled open the door and entered, missing the ice-cold eyes watching from across the street.

"Good morning, milord. Ye need some help with that?" Lucius shook his head as he set the packages on the counter, and looked to the man behind.

"Nay. I believe I have a room waiting for me?" Glancing around, he took in the place at a glance. Finding a sitting room and bar to one side and stairs heading up. The lay out was simple, and yet efficient.

"And what name would ye be under, milord?" Picking up a small register, the innkeeper started to flip through the pages, until he came to a page only half-filled.

"DeAuster." Lucius watched the finger scan down the page, and then, a satisfied grunt. "Ah, yes, milord. Your room was made ready this morning." Turning, the innkeeper took a key from the wall and handed it to Lucius. "It's the third room on the left on the second floor. I am Kralias, master of the Paladin's Coin. Whatever ye may need, merely ask."

"Indeed." Lucius replied, picking up his packages as he did so. With a final nod to Kralias he took the stairs up, easily finding his room. Once inside, the packages were set on the small table, and the fire stoked before he removed his cloak and upper armor. Only then, did he sit down to a glass of wine from the jug already in the room and enjoy the heat of the dancing flames as he waited for her?

Moving with grace along the walkway, she mentally cursed the cumbersome green skirt she wore. Finding that having to hold up the hem was even more draining then her usual afternoon practice sessions. However, she had gotten the message and dared not wait. She hadn't wanted to leave of course, but considering that Lucius was tired from the long trip there and their late morning tryst, she had left him sleeping quite soundly and headed off towards her own business.

The Dancing Fox was located near the market square and like her own Inn of choice it also was considered more upscale. The tall Inn front rose with the tower rooms decorated like a gingerbread house, with the whitewashed front and the darker brown trim that appealed to the eye. The warm scent of spice and tobacco assailed her senses as she entered, the footman offering a polite smile as he held the door for her and inside she stepped.

Unlike most of the ladies here, Fiona didn't care for the wearing of the garish bonnets so her gloved hand rose to draw back the fur trimmed hood of her cloak instead and she then quietly looked about. It was Midday and the interior was quiet and peaceful after the chaos of the street outside. Even before she could move towards the front desk to acquire after the one she was to meet, she heard a voice coming from the common room.

"Ah, Milady DeWil, there ye are. Punctual as always." The tall form with the black hair and eyes bowed politely towards her from the doorway. "Ye father has sent me as currier." "Greetings to ye as well Milord." She wasn't sure what surname he might be using this time so went with the safest reply and moved towards him with one of those insipid smiles she had seen many affect. "I hope Father is well?"

"Aye Milady. He of course does miss ye and is as always concerned of ye care, but let us get ye some hot tea and sit for a spell near the fire. Tis a chilly realm here." His dark eyes were holding shadows of laughter even as he played the role of a perfect gentleman and escorted her towards the very spot near the hearth.

In minutes she had a ridiculously dainty tea cup in her gloved fingers and was looking over at Falcon with another vague smile moving over the rose pale lips, even as his words spoken low touched her ears.

"This man Dynvan Carraent has ties to one of the Holy Orders. Not a name one would find on their books either. He be one they hire to do their less holy works ye might say." The tall form settled back with all the casual lazy grace of a Dandy and smiled just as benign as the same.

"Nae matters Falcon. The job be done already. I saw a chance and took it, but it's caused a bit of trouble now. I think ye may have noticed when ye arrived that security is now elevated."

For just a flash of a moment a frown touched his brow but was gone before it might be noticed. "This is nae good news Fiona. Ye father nae wants ye caught up in this, tis why he sent me. I was to take this job from ye and get ye back to the Keep, post haste."

"Tis to late for that now. I can nae leave without good reason at this point, without drawing attention." She took a sip of the hot tea but her gaze remained steady upon his over the gold edge of the cup in her fingers.

"How long will ye need stay then" I told them nae more then 3 days myself." He said with a slow nod and a quiet laugh falling, for the benefit of the serving girl passing. "I said a week, for that was what I had thought I would need, but as I said before, the chance came and I took it." She replied with another honeyed smile sent towards him. "Did ye make it look to be a robbery?"

"Aye, I did. Though, I should tell ye, some Paladins did see me return to the Inn afterwards. They be thinking one attempted to mug me, for that was the story Kralias gave them." She placed the tiny cup down into its matching saucer and gloved hands folded in her lap.

He was again looking thoughtful and soon gave another nod as he put down his own snifter of brandy. "Did ye bring the purse with ye?"

"Aye, I did. I have nae even looked inside them truth be told." She was already sliding them easily into a pocket of shadows, knowing he would clearly see where others wouldn't and again gave a soft airy laugh. "It was just a little scary Milord, but I am for the most part unharmed." The sound near the door had caught her attention and it only took one glance over to see the gleam of armor as a few figures entered, with their pristine cloaks fluttering before the door was secured once more.

"Tis a dreadful thing, but I did tell ye father ye should be traveling with an escort. Tis a pity your companion took ill. Perhaps I should look to find ye another in Rysandri since it is ye next destination before ye trip home."

She nearly snorted at that, but controlled it, even as she felt eyes resting upon them where they were seated. "Only if ye can find one suitable Milord. I can nae take a prattler. I find them rather grating."

"Ye can be assured I shall see to it Milady DeWil." He was passing over some papers to her and a heavy pouch. "Ye father wanted me to deliver these to ye. Tis some more information and letters of introduction."

There was only a microsecond narrowing of her eyes that Falcon caught and sat up slowly, reaching for his snifter on the table. "Did ye wish more hot tea Milady?" He asked, and his head turned as if looking for the serving girl.

Fiona had never seen such an insignia before, the flaming fist over the scales of balance, or maybe it was justice but she knew the rest of their appearance only to well. More servants of that God Leorn, and yet, these men held a different feeling then the one she knew. Darker, crueler even, if such a thing was possible in said "holy" comrades. It made the fine hair at the base of her neck stand and she fought back the urge to shiver as chilling snow cold blue eyes clashed with her own wintry green gaze.

Much of the man's features were mystery to her, for his lower face was covered and instantly reminded her of an Inquisitor from books she had read as a child. He was a tall man that carried himself well, but something about him rang discordant to her. As her own characteristics was masked with her own youth and other assorted magical aids, she wasn't worried he would detect her half nature, but she dared not seek deeper what it was that sent jangling danger signals swimming over her nerve endings. It was one glance at Falcon and she could tell he wasn't pleased, and catching that sudden tension line near his mouth her gloved hand lifted and she placed it lightly on his arm. "Milord" I do hope ye will escort me back to the Paladin's Coin" After last eve, I nae feel so comfortable making my way back alone."

"Of course Milady DeWil, I would nae even consider letting ye walk on ye own with the sun setting so early as it does on these colder days." The line relaxed under the force of a suave smile and courtly dip of his dark head.

Of course, even before they could start to ready to leave, she would have to endure another cup of tea for the serving lass was delivering it and so she sat and they traded in small tall. Her mentioning some names she knew in the realm but had not yet seen, and him commenting about light hearted gossip from the courts of their own home. Until that single man approached, sweeping those cold eyes over them. "Forgive my intrusion, but I am curious about where you two are from' I couldn't help hearing, and noticing you speak names I am not familiar with."

Fiona's words stopped instantly, fading at the interruption with a glance to Falcon, as she had not expected them to be so, intrusive. The feeling radiating from this one was even worse closer up and she was sure it wasn't any "Holy" aura or presence causing it. It didn't have "That" sensation about it. It was starting to make her a little light headed, as if he was using some sort of mysterious skill or talent to try influence others. What ever it was, she found she didn't like it, or the one that was making her so damned edgy.

"We are from the Lands of Zymire, under our great Regent, Queen Bronwyn Astria Kallaryn Milord." Falcon replied with all the proper loyalty of the mentioned Queen's court. It was also amusing to say he was actually one of her closest councils, but this few knew with the exception of those of her family, for Bronwyn was also Fiona's oldest cousin.

There was no emotion in those vigilant eyes, which continued to regard them with unblinking intensity. "A land I am familiar with in name and location but can still say our Order knows little about." Was his reply, which was offered in only what could be called a barely civil tone.

Falcon didn't bother to hide the fleeting play of expression that moved over his finely crafted features and gave a rather casual shrug. "Our land has its traditions sir and it is a place of many mysteries. Nae only that, but we have our own beliefs that nae always are easily understood by outsiders." His own reply head just enough of an edge to just hint at the arrogance he was restraining.

"So is it true it is a land of Heathens and the Godless?"

Fiona felt sure under the black silk mask that one was smirking and just widened her eyes at him in surprise. "Indeed Milord, our home is nae that of barbarians. We have many Gods and are as educated as most here, so can hardly be considered Heathens." Her softly spoken words carrying a shocked tone that would well match the guileless expression she wore.

He shifted with the slow crossing of arms that many might find intimidating, but only managed to irritate both he was currently interrogating, but luckily Fiona and Falcon were well schooled in keeping their own expression and responses neutral. "There are rumors that your "Queen" has shunned the Church of Leorn."

Ah, the horror, Fiona thought, but wasn't at all surprised, for her Cousin's beliefs followed the land she ruled. Most practiced the ways of the old Elven powers of nature and the Gods of the Earth and Sky, for even as a youth, that had been Fiona's own path, but as her own mixed nature had started to blossom and grow, she had been drawn towards a different road.

"Our Queen does not "shun" any religion's sir. However, our homeland still follows the older ways. Times before even the rising of ye own God. Ye people would have a difficulty finding followers amongst our citizenship. Many are comfortable in the traditions as I stated before." A brow started to rise upon Falcon's face as his own words took a sharper edge. Oddly, this male seemed to be taking a sort of perverse pleasure in trying to goad them. At least that is what Fiona was starting to believe as he again spoke, the words having a rather brittle cadence to them. "Is it true your Royal allows Orcs and Ogres to roam about freely upon your soil?"

There were a few small settlements near the mountain regions to the north, and Fiona knew some of them, and found most of them peaceful enough. Of course they didn't live in a place where threats were ever constant so they had no need for the more warlike behaviors either. "We have a few there. However, they don't tend to leave their own areas and mingle with the rest of our land. Perhaps those living on our land are less aggressive then the ones here. They have been there centuries and not once in our own history that spans from the beginning of our realm have they ever caused us a single problem." Her table companion now made little effort to hide his own annoyance with this Paladin and in fact Falcon was flaunting it now. A gauntlet stretched out towards her companion then. "I do hope your papers are in order, for I will see them now." It wasn't a request but a command and for a moment Fiona was sure Falcon might decline to allow this one to review his traveling documents. Of course he did take his time removing them under his cloak and passed them over, wearing a cool and slightly tight face.

"Ye will see they are in order. I travel here often." The veneer of civility was now gone and it was apparent.

"I see they are. You only arrived today by the seal." Those were returned before those cold blue eyes rested upon her. "And yours miss." Again the hand was extended with the gleaming of armor-protected fingers.

It was a good thing she tended to carry such things with her and was soon drawing out the small book, containing the past weeks location. She had arrived late the evening before, and as her action had been on impulse and chance, most wouldn't think she was able to commit such a viciously brutal crime, so she passed them over without even a blink.

"It's Milady. She is noble blood and should be addressed as such." Falcon then growled, playing the role of protector with surprising effectiveness. "Ye have insulted our home, demanded our papers, and to be honest "sir", the lady had only recently arrived and was accosted but a night later in this "fair" city of yours. Tis nae been the warmest of welcomes."

The Paladin snapped the book closed and returned it to Fiona's waiting hand as she dutifully kept her eyes lowered, and even felt the heat of color moving over commonly pale cheeks as the words Falcon was grumbling. "As we are now patrolling the city, the lady is sure to not be harmed again." He was again looking at her with those calculating eyes of his and she was fighting the instant urge to shift under its penetration. "You were attacked when "Milady" DeWil?"

"T'was last night sir. After bonnet shopping, having noticed the ladies here have a fondness for that fashion and I nae have any and thought it best I see about finding one. I got lost, nae knowing this city and whilst wandering was," She paused with a hitch of breath, and her words going a little weaker, as any delicate creature would find such an experience unsettling. "Attacked. They took my small purse. I nae let on that I had another at the time, and I nae ever carry all my money with me anyway. T'was a harrowing thing, I felt sure they would do me harm having already knocked me from my feet at the start."

"Did you see your attackers?" It was a sharply pointed query and she slowly brought her gaze up to meet his, looking innocent and none to bright.

"Not really sir. It was dark, the nearest lamp being some distance away. I remember one smelled strange. Rather like he had been injured, for he carried that scent of. . . of. . blood about him." Again her soft words caught and carried a believable amount of horror. Elves were known for sharp hearing and other senses, but not all could see clearly in the dead of night or darkness. Of course she could, having an affinity with the shadows, but this curious man wouldn't know of that side of her nature.

"Ladies of your apparent status shouldn't be roaming about the street after dark and alone Milady DeWil." He replied in that flat droll and then with a nod he was walking away, satisfied for the moment.

Quite aware she had just been insulted, she decided to ignore that, as it had been vague anyway. She was more concerned about his interest in her and Falcon. Fiona also wasn't sure he believed her, but now, she wanted to be away from the watching eyes and was quickly moving to her feet. Outwardly she appeared a bit shaken and for once it wasn't faked, but assumed they were well used to creating such a mood in most, if his behavior was any indication at all. "Milord, I am nae feeling to well, would ye please escort me now?"

"Of course Milady." Falcon was already on his feet and cutting a smoldering glance to the three men now seated next to the entrance and still inspecting them. Muttering as he offered her his arm, he gave her gloved fingers a light pat. "Tis an affront to be sure, and they be calling "us" heathen's eh' Bah, this them that lack any manners if'n ye be asking me. Ye just ignore that lout. Ye father could buy and sell a dozen of his ilk and ye just remember that." He pitched the words low enough they would have to strain to hear them, but neither Fiona nor her companion had any doubts they had heard them none the less. His words also carried a ring of truth, even if it too, was a thinly veiled insult in kind.

Passing out into the now quiet and dark street, she glanced up at the man with her and just gave a weak smile. Her role still in place even as her free hand caught the skirt up and away from the dirty walkway as they started away, and neither spoke for a good block or two. "Do ye think he believed me Falcon?" She then asked quietly, as her ears tracked every sound near them.

"Aye, I do. One like him doesn't see woman as much of a threat. I think he thought I was more dangerous." Which made her laugh, for the Shadow Mage had skills she had yet to master and was more deadly of the pair. Of course in this instance he was actually innocent of any crimes.

"So what now?" She then asked, even as the warm light of the Paladin's Coin came into view. "Ye stay until the date ye already listed. I would suggest ye do pick up a bonnet. I will handle the order notes, for I know one lady here that can assist, and has little love for the Leorn followers. Will send word where and when tomorrow evening via a shadow messenger. Nae hide either for I suspect he will be watching for ye and myself. In fact, I shall send word for ye Father and have him send such a message delivered by the magical means some use here. Requesting that I escort ye home. Tis best to cover all bases at this juncture, for they are suspicious of any and us being outsiders, makes us easy targets." He paused a moment a few feet from the door. "Ye being a woman and me only having just arrived is the only thing likely keeping them from laying blame upon us now. This land is already in chaos and if they be here to investigate, they would like nothing better then to accuse our Queen of allying in this clan war."

That brought a sharp look from Fiona and she glanced around before leaning close and whispering to him. "Ah, but Falcon, she has taken a side." Then, without even waiting for him to answer she was slipping inside the Inn, where Kralias was already waiting for her.

"Will ye be dinning in ye room tonight Lady DeWil?" Was the first question from him even before she shut the heavy wooden door and she glanced over a shoulder at him. "Aye Kralias. It has been a trying day. Do ye know when I went to meet my Father's assistant I had to endure an inquest by one of those shiny men?" She affected a shudder, just as another one of those very creatures stepped from the common room. Instantly pale cheeks filled with rose being caught so to speak, but in fact the color was from keeping herself from laughing at the look on the man's face. "Beg ye pardon sir." She gave a quick nod and was then scurrying up the steps and exposing one slender stocking clad ankle in her haste.

She didn't even wait to listen to the conversation now occurring below instead she slipped into her own darkened room. Once the door was closed, she could see him clearly in the faint glow of the banked fire radiating from the hearth. He was still asleep, and had cast the covers from his upper half off sometime while she had been away.

She stood gazing at him for a long moment, marveling at the simple perfection of him. Toned muscle, the tousled auburn hair and trimmed beard on his chiseled face combined to make her catch a breath. Such an uncharacteristic thing for her, as no other had ever had such an effect upon her, yet this one man did. It was moments like this she could feel frightened. His association to her could create so many problems for him, and yet, she was selfish. The rational side told her to walk away, but the up until recently absent sentimental side demanded she stay for as long as possible.

She was memorizing every moment with him, savoring each smile and suddenly in the midst of shedding the hated skirt she paused with the silk falling around her stocking feet and just gasped in shock at the sudden stunning realization that had hit her. She was in love with Lucius.

It was so impossible she had another uncommon moment of feeling the purely feminine need to weep, but forced back that urge with a pressing of fingers against her suddenly stinging eyes. How had she allowed herself to fall for him' They were polar opposites. He of the "light" and her of the "dark", and she was certain he couldn't love her. Not with the same intensity. He might be fond of her, desire her, but love, was to far out of reach, and again her gaze was drawn back towards his slumbering form. She could make him love her, but even as the thought formed, she instantly shut off the whispered voice of her Demon. She would never do such a thing to anyone, let alone one she realized she really did care for. Her father had always warned her to guard her emotions but somehow, the fail-safes had malfunctioned. Her heart had settled upon one she sensed was her soul mate, but whose path did not follow her own. It was a gut wrenching realization and she quietly sank down in the chair before the hearth, suddenly unbalanced and reeling with an unexpected flooding of fear. What was she to do now"

She lost track of time sitting there, but then a quiet sound just in the outer hall, had her moving, snatching up the black silken robe from the back of her chair and pulling it on over the restrictive corset and her stocking clad legs just as the maid knocked. Even though her thoughts were scattered, she did have enough sense to pull the curtain of the bed, veiling Lucius from the lamp she lit and any curious eyes, and then moved to let the woman inside. "Evening Milady. Master Kralias sent this up for ye." If the woman was curious about the slender woman needing so much food it didn't show as she placed the laden tray on the table. "Thank him for me and ye as well." She pressed some gold into the woman's hand. "Do ye want me to set this up for ye Milady?" Fiona was then asked by the smiling servant but all she wanted was her gone.

"Nae miss, I was just changing and nae want it getting cold." Her hands were holding the robe close and praying that with all her roiling emotions they didn't pick this moment to shift on her.

"Well then Milady, ye just ring the bell if ye need anything else." Offering a quick bobbing curtsey, she was heading out the door quickly and leaving Fiona behind to just wilt. A quick look under the covered plates to find the feast of slow roasted beef, steamed vegetables, baked potatoes along with what she assumed was a bread pudding and various fruit. Unaware that she was releasing the scent into the air and did jump at the sound of his voice behind her. "Ah, that smells wonderful and I'm starved."

She hadn't even heard him move and as her head turned she peered over at him where he was slipping nude from the warm covers and her face was flushing with another rose blush. "Ah, I hoped ye rested well Lucius?"

She couldn't drag her eyes away from, for he was like a magnet and her gaze feasted upon him as he stretched lazily then moved towards her. "Oh yes, I did sleep quiet well, until you left."

She finally forced herself to look away and busied to lay out a table with hands not as steady as she would like only to end up nearly jumping once more as his arms wrapped around her from behind.

"I am curious about where you went." Warm breath and the timbre of words sent a thrill of sensation through her and caused her to go still.

Her honey warm voice caught only slightly as she responded, seeing no reason to lie to him. "I had a message from my father and went to meet his assistant. Seems he wishes me to visit a few friends in Rysandri before I make the return trip home. Lord Falcon delivered some more gold and a few letters of introduction that I will need."

The sensation of his warm lips and the brushing of his beard nearly unhinged her as her knees went weak from the impact of that touch on her senses. "I hope this doesn't mean you need to leave before planned."

"Oh nae Lucius. I shall be staying here for the few days as scheduled." Her wintry green eyes drifting closed as he brushed another soft kiss against the side of her neck and she swayed back against him. "I thought ye said ye were hungry?"

The low warm growl only drew another shiver across her own heated skin as his response floated into her ear. "I am, just not sure for what at the moment."

"It would be prudent to eat before it gets cold." Her own words holding a breathless quality that wasn't at all normal for her, but she was again falling under what ever spell he created, every time he touched her.

He released her slowly with another quiet laugh and then those slumberous dove gray eyes watched her with a slow wicked smile curling on his lips. "You are right of course, as we will need the energy later."

Pulling her robe closer around her barely clad form and just gave a soft chuckle before she sank down into the seat beside his. She was fighting the tremor in her hands as emotions were bouncing all over the place, but once she had a modicum of control she was soon partaking of the succulent feast provided. "I met one of ye Order at the Inn where Falcon is staying. Nae a name or anything, but he wasn't like ye Lucius."

"Oh?" He paused in mid bite to look over at her. "What do you mean he wasn't "Like" me?" Already a faint frown was drawing on his brow, thinking such a thing had to be more then just a coincidence as well.

Laying down her fork, her fingers entwined before her as she returned his suddenly tense regard and it dawned on her he wasn't pleased. "His vestment was different. Was a flaming fist before the scales of balance or justice, I believe, but it was nae that which I meant." She paused for a moment, unsure just what she should tell him, as he may not believe her, considering her nature, which he was quite aware of. "He felt different from ye and others like ye. Made me feel ill, but nae in the same "Holy" way ye weapons do." Teeth caught her lip a moment, picking her words with some care.

Her voice dropped a touch, still serene and soft, but holding a hesitant tone. "Ye be knowing what I am, but I am nae the dark creature ye be thinking. Tis by choice I walk the path of neutral." She then gave a low, faintly sheepishly laugh, before continuing. "Aye, I can be quite vicious and in the eyes of some I may be evil, but I nae kill the innocent. I nae will ever kill children or those known for good deeds and true kindness. Tis a fact that there be few in this realm of even other worlds where there are any that are truly innocent, but I have some morals. The man of ye Order that I met, well, I suspect he nae has any such restrictions. Tis a coldness, a malicious and merciless nature I sensed in him and it made me quite nauseous as the cadence of it, held what I can only call vindictive malevolence." Fiona's ice-pale green gaze lifted and caught Luc's intent gaze.

"Tis a man that be hiding under the blanket of purity and hides his true face with more then just a silken scarf. A face that be far uglier then many I have chanced to meet, and there be plenty in my own past that were well known to sadistic and cruel ways. T'was seen in those snowy cold blue eyes of his and felt."

She couldn't know if he would believe her. He may desire her, lust for her, but she knew there was a side to Lucius that may not allow him to trust her words. The flaw of their relationship was her profession and a fault in her nature by birth that could make it difficult for the Paladin in him to have any faith in what she was saying.

"Hey, where's Lucius?" Zaleena's beatific features were clouded with irritation as she faced the ghostly form before her. Of the many beings she had met in her time, not many irritated her as much as Corbane.

"The master is currently engaged." The spectre floated before her in the passage, looking in death as he had in life, albeit a transparent apparition. Zaleena's frown deepened as she glared at the spectre, her arms folded across her ample bosom.

"Well, why don't you float on down and tell him I need to speak to him?" Zaleena's pouty lips turned upward as she put on her most charming smile. Corbane's expression, however, remained impassive.

"No."

Zaleena stared at him for a second in shock of the simple refusal, and then sputtered for a second. "Excuse me?"

"I said no, Zaleena." Now his features did change slightly, as the flash of annoyance pushed past his cold exterior. "He has given strict instructions not to be disturbed." A ghostly hand came up, finger extended to forestall any other outburst. "And do not attempt to charm me. The pathetic attempt was not worthy of a succubus, much less a marilith." The spectre spun in air and floated off, leaving Zaleena sputtering in rage behind him.

—————————————

"This will not do." Daugolozan hissed in irritation, looking up from the book he had been perusing. Zaleena stood across from him, her body radiating anger from her earlier encounter with Corbane.

"Well, you can deal with that floating spook next time." The marilith growled, a tapered fingernail lightly tapping her forearm. "The damned thing flat-out refused to do what I said!"

"And what did you expect, my dear?" the dracolich leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled before him as he contemplated the demoness. "He is, after all, DeAuster's seneschal." Huffing softly, Zaleena whirled on a heel and stalked over to a nearby couch, where she sat with another petulant sigh. "What bothers me is DeAuster's apparent lack of focus recently." Daugolozan continued, rocking slowly in his chair.

"He hasn't said anything out of the ordinary to me." Zaleena studiously examined her fingernail as she spoke, a sign she was irritated. "But then, he is one of the most tight-lipped males I've ever known."

"Yes, it is too bad he appears immune to your charms." Hissing softly in amusement, Daugolozan stared over at Zaleena. "I want you to go out, and see why our "ally' has lost his motivation so suddenly."

"And then?" Zaleena peered over at the dracolich, who had leaned forward to reply.

"And then, if need be, we will eliminate this distraction."

She woke, feeling as if her head was stuffed with cotton batting and under her eyes shadows could be seen. She had slept but the dream had been so vivid her sleep hadn't been restful. Fingers dragged the heavy curtain of black hair out of her pale face and she was soon moving into the bathroom to prepare for another day. Ignoring the array of pillows she had obviously tossed from the bed and now littered the floor.

She was tempted to run for it. It was one of her most unreasonable thoughts of late, and as quickly shunned for she didn't want him to think he had chased her off. Her pride wouldn't allow it. It was apparent to her he had no trouble at all working with her, and all the issues now were her own. Meaning, she had to get a firm grip on her re-awakened emotions and just stuff them away again, deeper and father down this time, so they would never again find the light of day.

She was going to take advantage of Brutin's stable this morning. A brisk ride might help clear up her addled brain and shake off some of the more irritating cobwebs. So, once donned in her usual night black leathers, she yanked on the kid gloves and pushed Garith into the sheath at her side, she was heading out. Fading into the waiting embrace of the shadows.

It was one of those over cast days with the chill of winter still heavy in the air as she strode towards the stable minutes later. She had brought her own horse to be kept there, as it was more convenient. Normally she would be saddling Madyrn on her own, but as the stable boy was already rushing to collect her stallion, she had no other choice but to wait.

As she leaned against the rail of the corral she caught sight of Lucius moving across the yard, but it appeared he hadn't yet noticed her. Then again, it wasn't likely he would. She wasn't standing out the in the open, nor was a stable a place where most would even think to find her. That realization brought a faintly frosty smile to her rose pale lips. Years before she had gone riding with him a time or two, but these days, she tended to use the shadows more for transport, but still, there were times when a horse was needed and thus she had brought her own.

Of course for once, luck was on her side, for as her mount was presented, she felt the whispers against her senses that he was approaching. She decided she would rather not deal with him just yet, and thus vaulted nimbly up into the high saddle, with a fluttering of her cloak, and then sent a short nod to the young man who instantly stepped back. Madyrn danced for a moment at the sudden weight upon his back but then sprang forward at her urging. Sending both rider and horse surging out over the fields towards the distant forest of Brutin's land. So swift was the stallion that by the time DeAuster made it to the stables, she would be nearly out of sight.

The plan was simple, there was a small Inn just behind the distance trees, set off the road only a short distance and there, she would get some coffee and collect her thoughts and her common sense, but with the ride there she hoped would clear her thoughts and ease her unsettled mood.

Under most circumstances, she would have felt the assassin even before they got close enough, but as her mind was obviously preoccupied, she wasn't as prepared as she would like, as suddenly her mount was skidding to a sharp stop then rearing up with a scream, nearly unseating her. It took all her skill to stay astride as narrowed green eyes caught sight of the man emerging from the corpse of trees.

In an instant she was aware of the crossbow leveled on her, as she struggled to settle Madyrn down and then her deeper senses picked up others. Ears straining and marked at least three more already moving closer, making it apparent she had foolishly run right into an ambush. She bit off a sharp Elvin curse and her gloved hand moved down towards the dagger already hissing furiously at her hip.

"Touch it and die bitch!" The large man with the bow snapped, causing her movement to still, only for the moment, as already she had used her shadows to release the peace knot.

"You can come along with us all peaceful and be declared a prisoner of war or we can force you to come along. Your out numbered and no one said you had to be breathing."

Those words just brought a frosty glittering from her eyes as she slowly swung a leg over the pommel of her saddle and then slid from her mount, with feet touching the ground silently. All the while she had kept her hands in sight, letting the others draw closer and biding her time without saying a word.

Inside her mind a plot was already being formed, of how she was going to handle it, when that sudden sensation moved over her skin and she very nearly groaned. Her new "partner" was nearly there, and even before she could act, her stallion just reared up with another wild scream and then bolted away. She had only just managed to dance away from the deadly flashing of hooves when the sound of the crossbow being released hit her. She lunged in an effort to avoid it, but didn't move fast enough, so the sudden blossom of pain in her side took her down to a knee in an uncharacteristic stumble with a soft furious hiss of pain.

Looking down she saw the fletch protruding from her right side and just growled faintly, for it was buried deep and the simple fact now was she couldn't escape into the shadows. To do so now, would ensure she would bleed to death so she had no other choice but to fight. In a sudden rise Garith was sent flying, slamming full force into the throat of the man that had just shot her. The force of her throw lifted him clean off his feet and falling backwards. She watched impassively as a cloud of dust and leaves rose from the now prone attacker then turned as another ran towards her with a shrill battle cry.

The cry was short lived as shadows exploded around her, bands wrapping and tangling the wild looking woman and in moments she was dangling limp from a high branch, the life literally squeezed from her throat by the constricting black ribbons.

Her senses stretched, seeking the other two, but before she could even move, a broken body came crashing down only a few feet away from the first one she had killed. The man's neck twisted in a very unnatural angle and then the blood curdling screams of another had her moving towards the sound.

She stumbled a few times, as the notch in her side was causing her some serious pain but she dared not yank it out for she had nothing to stanch the blood or even wrap it with. She also had seen the tip upon that first glance and knew it was pronged for maximum damage, so yanking it out would make more of a mess.

Once she moved past some of the large trees, she found DeAuster, and the screamer, who he had pinned neatly against the thick bark of a large pine tree. It looked as if most of this man's limbs had been broken already, and the Deathknight now had his arm twisted back behind him. "Who sent you?" He hissed, that cold voice of death likely being even more effective upon the weeping would be assassin then the actual pain he had to be feeling by now.

"DV! DV hired us!" The man whimpered where he slumped again the tree and his arm was released abruptly. The sudden surge of blood and feeling being released sent him falling over in a dead faint seconds later.

"Aye, I suspected as such." She muttered, having stopped to brace a leather-clad hand against a sturdy tree. "I beat her current lover senseless and now Lady Catdrina be looking to get even."

She felt him coming towards her and just gave a tight winced smile. "Ye appear to have scared my mount away DeAuster. I nae supposed ye have one of ye own nearby eh?"

"You're injured." Was his answer to that question, as he drew closer and saw quickly her situation, and a hand rose to steady her where she was leaning again the tree.

"Aye that I am." She glanced down at the arrow still penetrating her body and sighed quietly. "This is what I get for beating one to near death who be playing bedroom games with a guild leader. Welcome to me world DeAuster."

He was inspecting the damage and the moment she saw his other hand reaching towards it, she growled low. "Touch that and I will send ye sailing. I only need a way back or help to an inn that be but maybe three miles to the east. I can nae use the shadows else I will bleed out."

It was bad enough he was touching her, even though the shield of his leather glove and her own armor, but she was already feeling light headed and he of course paid her threat little mind. The first light press of his fingers on the item impaled in her flesh and she gave a muffled sound before she just sagged as a blinding white-hot pain attacked her senses. "Oh frell? tis poisoned." She managed to mutter before the lights went out and she was cast back once more in memories.

The next stop was the house of Lord and Lady Granville. A rather elegant residence very near the large stately manor where the Albaelia's occasionally resided, and even more crowded then the last, which made Fiona just mutter darkly even as she slipped out after Eires from the warmth of the carriage. Thankfully the rain had stopped for the moment. A respite it would seem, as above the lightening flickered and was followed by the ominous rumbling of thunder.

Of course the moment she stepped inside, she could feel him somewhere within the sea of socializing members of Nobility. Lucius was there, somewhere and she thought with her luck, it would take ages to find him. Again she had to endure the introductions and just pasted the smile on her lips and allowed herself to be dragged along by her "Aunt". She caught sight of him a few times, as he was taller then most, but as soon as her gaze would find him, he would get drawn away.

"Goodness niece, ye be looking peaked. Perhaps ye should get some fresh air. The balcony here is covered so ye will nae end up rained upon." Eires commented and she soon found herself escorted to the double glass doors that led outside but was grateful to escape. The perceptive woman had noticed she was starting to wilt under the press of too many. Eires seemed to thrive on the energy, where Fiona found it more draining then anything she could compare it to.

"I thought I might find you out here." The rumble of his voice sent her spinning around and she couldn't stop the bright smile that lit upon her tired features.

"Ah, Lucius. I nae thought I would ever catch ye. Tis' a madhouse inside." She held back the urge to fling her self into his arms, as where they were standing was far too open to the eyes of others that might be watching. It didn't stop her green gaze from roaming over him. He looked elegant in the clothing of a noble with the armored bracers the only thing she could see of his usual gear.

"Walk with me." He caught her hand and drew it into the crook of his arm and started to lead her towards the darker area of the covered walk. "Where are you staying?"

She found his behavior a little curious but assumed it was where they were which made him seem somewhat stiff.

"I am staying at "The Whispering Dove" near the high end." She replied quietly as she let him lead her further away from the din of the party. "And ye' Where are ye staying Lucius?"

"The Flying Delight, a few doors down from your own lodgings." He glanced back towards the glow of windows with narrowed steel-gray eyes. "I saw you on the street when we arrived."

"Aye, I saw ye as well." She gave a soft laugh even as her own gaze shifted, wondering what had him so edgy. "Is there something wrong?" Fiona then asked, as his tension was starting to stir up her own again.

He muttered quietly in reply. "Nothing I can't handle." Then before she could quiz him again, he spun her about and her soft laugh was lost seconds later under the hot press of his lips against her own. She was lost instantly and her arms lifted to entwine about his neck with a low moan of hunger.

Perhaps it was the danger of discovery, or what ever had him tense, but there was an almost desperate edge felt in his touch as he dragged her closer in tight arms and the kiss became even more heated. The feeling of her silken clad form dragging a low growl from deep in his chest.

To Fiona the kiss was shattering her reason and her usual caution, as she fell headlong into it, with her fingers tangling in his hair and drawing him even closer with a soft aching sigh. She could feel his obvious need even though the soft folds of silk and just trembled with an answering yearning. So heady the feeling that she made no protest even as she felt the glide of his hand sliding up against the shimmer of her stocking clad thigh. If he wanted to take her right there, she wouldn't have minded, and even as he broke the kiss, her breath caught in a whispered moan.

Her dark head drifted back seconds later, feeling the graze of his whiskers sliding against the exposed flesh of the top of the lavender gown and just trembled again, while her gloved fingers stroked through his hair and traced his ears.

So caught up in the moment, it was a shock to hear her name being called from the house. She froze as did Lucius and she took a deep gasped breath, struggling to collect her scattered senses.

"I am sure she was out here. Perhaps she wandered out farther then she should have." Eires commented to who ever was with her.

In her ear he whispered quietly. "Find me later and don't change first. You look beautiful and I want to undress you later." Again she nearly melted, but even as she felt the heavy thudding of his heart as he hugged her close, she so wanted the night to be over just so she could be with him.

"Aye, aye. I will find ye." Her answering whisper was nearly lost as the next wave of the storm unleashed from on high and she melted away into the shadows. She was aware enough to reappear in one of the powder rooms, so she could deal fix her hair, and collect her self before emerging again. She quickly located Eires in the mingling crowd and they were again on the move, one last stop she was told and just suffered for another hour before finally the end was in sight. The next evening wouldn't be as difficult, for the only event would be the Ball, and she comforted herself with that thought.

Once back in her own room, she quickly penned a note to her father and sent it off in the hands of one of her Shadow Sentinels. Having kept her word to the lady and then, she pulled the covers of the bed back, making it look slept in before she slipped silently into the waiting shadows.

The storm was still raging outside, but she arrived dry and quickly located him within the large establishment, and just as silently drifted into view just a few feet from where he was sitting and watching the fire, and she assumed waiting for her.

Upon seeing her, he rose silently with a hand extended towards her and once her gloved fingers were caught in his warm grasp, he drew her into the glow of the single lamp lit inside the quiet room. For the longest moment they just gazed deeply into each other's eyes, words feeling suddenly useless.

She was struck again with the feelings she was picking up from him and still couldn't determine just what they were, then soon forgot, as lips parted under the tender press of his. He touched her as if she was the most precious treasure in the realms, and if she hadn't already been in love with him before, she would have been after, instead she just fell deeper under his spell.

Their lovemaking was gentle and languid, an eloquent exploration of each other as if each was etching the memory in their minds and clinging to every sensation. Then afterwards, they fell asleep, wrapped tightly in each other's arms until the first fingers of sunlight pulled her from sleep and sensual dreams.

Slipping from the bed, even though she didn't want to, she collected her things, and wrapped only in the velvet cloak, faded quietly again. They hadn't spoken much during that time for it felt as if words couldn't convey the emotions.

It wasn't until she returned to her own room she realized she had lost one amethyst hair comb and a creamy white stocking and just hoped he found them before anyone else. Putting what she did still have away, she shook out the folds of the elegant gown, hanging it up and placing it back into the wardrobe before seeking more sleep, as the next night would be just as long and likely as exhausting as the first.

The dream images became hazy then, mingling with reality, as she was sure he was touching her and started to fight against it, feeling icy fingers against her hot brow and growled faintly. Eyes fluttering open and blazing crimson as she hissed. "Nae touch me!"

Her body was on fire, and she couldn't remember why, for everything was becoming tangled up in her thoughts so she struggled against it.

In fact, if not for that Demonic side of her nature she would have died, for the Elven part wasn't strong enough to fight the poison racing through her blood stream but at the moment she wasn't remembering that. Yet, even in her near hallucinatory state, she was aware of who it was bending over her and didn't like it one bit. She didn't want him seeing her in such a weak and vulnerable state and feared what might slip out of her mouth in her dreaming moments.

She couldn't even tell or feel where she was, as her vision was clouded, but was aware it was dark and hot, so hot her body was shaking and damp. Yet him she could see clearly, the covered features tangling up in her head with the memory of the face she carried in her thoughts. Trembling taloned fingers rose, brushing against the silken scarf hiding his ruined face in a gentle touch before drifting away and her eyes closed again, muttering to herself. "It's just a dream. . . just a dream, nae more."

Later that evening, having arrived at the grand party, Fiona was standing behind her father, just trying to blend into the colorful array of society. She again had suffered through the introductions, meeting the Albaelia couple, which seemed nice, enough, if a little formal. She was amused by the looks her father was collecting from the ladies about the place. He stood taller then most and was aging in what one could only call distinguished manner and even though his features were set in a stern expression, he still was noticed.

In the past Fiona had often said it was that mysterious air he carried, but she now wondered if she wasn't correct. The Lady Saestaer had already been drawn away by Lord De'Cort, and had left Rhystil behind to stand watch over his daughter. She was handling her business while most were watching the formidable man she had arrived with. It was amusing his daughter, that he was just standing there, with many assuming he was here to handle the alliances but in fact he was more the diversion.

Of course Lord Margeth was also in attendance and she knew he was watching, had even alerted her father and Falcon to where he was and now both were conversing mentally on how best to deal with him.

While her father might of neglected many things in regards to her gender, he had made sure she knew how to dance and deport herself in the manner of any well brought up lady so she was soon pushed into the arms of Falcon to take a turn on the floor.

"Are ye having fun Fiona?" Falcon asked as he drew her into a light spin and she gave a faux smile in return.

"Not in the least. In fact, I will be quite happy once all this social frippery is done" She was light on her feet and didn't even trod on his toes, even if she wanted to, for he seemed to be enjoying her discomfort.

"Well, it shall be all over soon. The lady will have her agreements, ye father will have his dagger and I shall be delighted to become a thorn in the side of one nosy Paladin." He gave another devilish smile and moments later, was passing her back into the care of her father.

She soon found her feet starting to ache, for after Falcon taken her out on the floor, others were now approaching her father to make the same request. It was an archaic practice she found she loathed, but being stuck in the role for the moment she had to tolerate it, grudgingly. Returning after a rather cheerful reel and ready to find something to drink she found Lucius speaking quietly with her sire and had a moment of panic.

Even as she was reeling she felt his hand tugging her back towards the floor where a slower song was playing and caught her self before stumbling to look at him in surprise. "What are ye thinking talking to him?" Her voice was pitched low and she was fighting the battle to keep her father from picking up on her sudden swelling of alarm.

"I wanted to dance with you and as it seemed I had to brave the dragon first, I did so." He smiled easily and she had the insane urge to caress the cayenne pepper whiskers on his lean face.

Flustered now, she covered it by concentrating on the slow steps of the dance, even the spin before her eyes lifted again. "Ye managed to get him to allow it, that be saying something. He nae cares for ye kind."

"I got the impression he values honesty, so just told him he had a beautiful daughter and I would be honored if he would allow me to dance with her."

That brought a rising of color to her pale cheeks and she chuckled quietly. "Ah, so ye hit him in his blind spot I see. Ye be a wicked one Milord."

His sudden tension had her glancing over towards Rhystil and was instantly feeling just as tight. Finding Margeth was now speaking with her father, and if the look radiating from the elder DeWil's eyes was any indication he wasn't pleased. Even across the room she could feel the chill from her father, as it was quickly apparent something said was sparking a dangerous temper.

"I think I be needing a drink Milord." Barely had the words left her lips and he was whisking her away towards the refreshment table. She normally didn't touch spirits, but was feeling the need for something a little stronger then juice and soon had a glass of wine in her chilled fingers. Lucius also wasn't looking at all pleased in fact he was barely able to keep the frown from overtaking his features.

She was mentally trying to connect to her father, but he was too angry to answer, but she got the distinct impression that man had possibly threatened him. None she knew ever had dared such a thing that she was aware of.

"Ask the man with ye to escort ye to the garden Fiona. From now on ye need to stay away from this Margeth." The thought rang in her head and she blinked, as she hadn't been at all prepared for it and she nearly spilled the wine.

"Are you alright Milady?" Lucius had caught the movement and was quickly wrapping a snowy linen napkin around the base of the now dripping glass.

"I think, nae I know I need to get some air Milord." Fiona's ice-green eyes lifted to meet his conveying a variety of unspoken thoughts in the exchange of gazes. "Do ye think ye might spare the time to escort me to take in some fresh air?"

He was polite enough to glance over towards her father and at the stiff nod, was leading her towards one of the side doors and in a matter of moments they were outside and she did find she needed the chill of the evening breeze, for it eased the tension now riding her. "I believe Lord Margeth may have threatened my father." Normally she wouldn't have just blurted it out, but she seriously doubted her father would sit idly by and allow that sort of insult to go unchallenged.

"Does your father know what ye do Fiona?" Lucius asked, even as he guided her along the quiet walk where many other couples were also strolling. Taking a breather from the stuffy ballroom.

She couldn't help the soft laugh that drifted from her lips, before replying. "Who do ye think trained me Lucius" My father wields power across the realm in many locations and is nae above using it. Though, this trip nae is one of my usual. I be here with Lady Saestaer, to keep her company, for it was an excuse to visit here and see ye. Father is nae here on Order business either, but personal. Tis a relic he is wishing to own and is here to purchase it. Tis all above board and all perfectly legal, for once."

"So what does Margeth have on him that he could use to threaten?" He was puzzled, for he had researched the name DeWil and had found nothing in the Order archives, with the exception of some mention with the location of Zymire.

"I nae know, other then the feeling of some threat being made and then when father did answer, he told me to ask ye to take me outside. I am so to stay away from this Margeth." She could tell Lucius also didn't like what he was hearing, picking up his emotions easier then ever. "I fear that my father may nae allow me to many more jobs here for a time." There was a hitch in her words, as that meant she wouldn't be able to see him as often and stopped to gaze up at him. "I may nae be able to see ye again for some time Lucius."

She hated to say it, but knew Rhystil well, and if the mood she was picking up from her sire was any indication, he fully intended to keep her closer to home until the threat was dealt with.

Lucius obviously didn't like that news either and even in the dark she could see the frown on his brow. "We will find a way Fiona. If we need meet in Tignus, then I will make arrangements."

She gave a weak smile and they started walking again, falling into an uneasy silence for the moment. "Come to me tonight and we will discuss it further. Without the worry of others hearing or the watchful of eyes of far to many." He then stated, giving her hand a warm squeeze.

"Aye, though I nae see a way around this Lucius. Ye nae be knowing my father. He can stubborn."

"So am I, along with persistent." He noticed then the way her eyes darted towards the house and started to talk to her about the silly garments some of the guests where wearing that night. Coming back around the curving walk, they continued to converse quietly about innocuous things and general observations only to be met by Rhystil and Falcon. "Thank ye Milord for watching after my daughter. We are leaving now Fiona, so please collect ye cloak." The older man stated with a perfectly executed bow offered to DeAuster. "We bid ye a good night Lord DeAuster."

With that, the trio moved off, the dark heads easily tracked even as they entered, for the two men were taller then average and even as he entered the ballroom once more he could still see them across near the hall.

Later that evening, having arrived at the grand party, Fiona was standing behind her father, just trying to blend into the colorful array of society. She again had suffered through the introductions, meeting the Albaelia couple, which seemed nice, enough, if a little formal. She was amused by the looks her father was collecting from the ladies about the place. He stood taller then most and was aging in what one could only call distinguished manner and even though his features were set in a stern expression, he still was noticed.

In the past Fiona had often said it was that mysterious air he carried, but she now wondered if she wasn't correct. The Lady Saestaer had already been drawn away by Lord De'Cort, and had left Rhystil behind to stand watch over his daughter. She was handling her business while most were watching the formidable man she had arrived with. It was amusing his daughter, that he was just standing there, with many assuming he was here to handle the alliances but in fact he was more the diversion.

Of course Lord Margeth was also in attendance and she knew he was watching, had even alerted her father and Falcon to where he was and now both were conversing mentally on how best to deal with him.

While her father might of neglected many things in regards to her gender, he had made sure she knew how to dance and deport herself in the manner of any well brought up lady so she was soon pushed into the arms of Falcon to take a turn on the floor.

"Are ye having fun Fiona?" Falcon asked as he drew her into a light spin and she gave a faux smile in return.

"Not in the least. In fact, I will be quite happy once all this social frippery is done" She was light on her feet and didn't even trod on his toes, even if she wanted to, for he seemed to be enjoying her discomfort.

"Well, it shall be all over soon. The lady will have her agreements, ye father will have his dagger and I shall be delighted to become a thorn in the side of one nosy Paladin." He gave another devilish smile and moments later, was passing her back into the care of her father.

She soon found her feet starting to ache, for after Falcon taken her out on the floor, others were now approaching her father to make the same request. It was an archaic practice she found she loathed, but being stuck in the role for the moment she had to tolerate it, grudgingly. Returning after a rather cheerful reel and ready to find something to drink she found Lucius speaking quietly with her sire and had a moment of panic.

Even as she was reeling she felt his hand tugging her back towards the floor where a slower song was playing and caught her self before stumbling to look at him in surprise. "What are ye thinking talking to him?" Her voice was pitched low and she was fighting the battle to keep her father from picking up on her sudden swelling of alarm.

"I wanted to dance with you and as it seemed I had to brave the dragon first, I did so." He smiled easily and she had the insane urge to caress the cayenne pepper whiskers on his lean face.

Flustered now, she covered it by concentrating on the slow steps of the dance, even the spin before her eyes lifted again. "Ye managed to get him to allow it, that be saying something. He nae cares for ye kind."

"I got the impression he values honesty, so just told him he had a beautiful daughter and I would be honored if he would allow me to dance with her." That brought a rising of color to her pale cheeks and she chuckled quietly. "Ah, so ye hit him in his blind spot I see. Ye be a wicked one Milord."

His sudden tension had her glancing over towards Rhystil and was instantly feeling just as tight. Finding Margeth was now speaking with her father, and if the look radiating from the elder DeWil's eyes was any indication he wasn't pleased. Even across the room she could feel the chill from her father, as it was quickly apparent something said was sparking a dangerous temper.

"I think I be needing a drink Milord." Barely had the words left her lips and he was whisking her away towards the refreshment table. She normally didn't touch spirits, but was feeling the need for something a little stronger then juice and soon had a glass of wine in her chilled fingers. Lucius also wasn't looking at all pleased in fact he was barely able to keep the frown from overtaking his features.

She was mentally trying to connect to her father, but he was too angry to answer, but she got the distinct impression that man had possibly threatened him. None she knew ever had dared such a thing that she was aware of.

"Ask the man with ye to escort ye to the garden Fiona. From now on ye need to stay away from this Margeth." The thought rang in her head and she blinked, as she hadn't been at all prepared for it and she nearly spilled the wine.

"Are you alright Milady?" Lucius had caught the movement and was quickly wrapping a snowy linen napkin around the base of the now dripping glass.

"I think, nae I know I need to get some air Milord." Fiona's ice-green eyes lifted to meet his conveying a variety of unspoken thoughts in the exchange of gazes. "Do ye think ye might spare the time to escort me to take in some fresh air?"

He was polite enough to glance over towards her father and at the stiff nod, was leading her towards one of the side doors and in a matter of moments they were outside and she did find she needed the chill of the evening breeze, for it eased the tension now riding her. "I believe Lord Margeth may have threatened my father." Normally she wouldn't have just blurted it out, but she seriously doubted her father would sit idly by and allow that sort of insult to go unchallenged.

"Does your father know what ye do Fiona?" Lucius asked, even as he guided her along the quiet walk where many other couples were also strolling. Taking a breather from the stuffy ballroom.

She couldn't help the soft laugh that drifted from her lips, before replying. "Who do ye think trained me Lucius" My father wields power across the realm in many locations and is nae above using it. Though, this trip nae is one of my usual. I be here with Lady Saestaer, to keep her company, for it was an excuse to visit here and see ye. Father is nae here on Order business either, but personal. Tis a relic he is wishing to own and is here to purchase it. Tis all above board and all perfectly legal, for once."

"So what does Margeth have on him that he could use to threaten?" He was puzzled, for he had researched the name DeWil and had found nothing in the Order archives, with the exception of some mention with the location of Zymire.

"I nae know, other then the feeling of some threat being made and then when father did answer, he told me to ask ye to take me outside. I am so to stay away from this Margeth." She could tell Lucius also didn't like what he was hearing, picking up his emotions easier then ever. "I fear that my father may nae allow me to many more jobs here for a time." There was a hitch in her words, as that meant she wouldn't be able to see him as often and stopped to gaze up at him. "I may nae be able to see ye again for some time Lucius."

She hated to say it, but knew Rhystil well, and if the mood she was picking up from her sire was any indication, he fully intended to keep her closer to home until the threat was dealt with.

Lucius obviously didn't like that news either and even in the dark she could see the frown on his brow. "We will find a way Fiona. If we need meet in Tignus, then I will make arrangements."

She gave a weak smile and they started walking again, falling into an uneasy silence for the moment. "Come to me tonight and we will discuss it further. Without the worry of others hearing or the watchful of eyes of far to many." He then stated, giving her hand a warm squeeze.

"Aye, though I nae see a way around this Lucius. Ye nae be knowing my father. He can stubborn."

"So am I, along with persistent." He noticed then the way her eyes darted towards the house and started to talk to her about the silly garments some of the guests where wearing that night. Coming back around the curving walk, they continued to talk quietly about innocuous things and general observations only to be met by Rhystil and Falcon. "Thank ye Milord for watching after my daughter. We are leaving now Fiona, so please collect ye cloak." The older man stated with a perfectly executed bow offered to DeAuster. "We bid ye a good night Lord DeAuster."

With that, the trio moved off, the dark heads easily tracked even as they entered, for the two men were taller then average and even as he entered the ballroom once more he could still see them across near the hall.

"I did not take you there because that is what your enemies would expect." He said quietly as he stood still, looking to her. She was as lovely as he remembered, and for a moment, even the undead could feel longing. "Here, I can protect you."

Fiona looked around the room she was in; sure she didn't know it and just pulled the covers up against her bare frame. "And where is here then?" She question with a pale hand lifting and pushing the heavy drift of black hair from her face as she sighed silently. She hated this feeling of disorientation.

"An inn close by where you were ambushed." Lucius stated and glanced about the room she was in. The curtain on the window was drawn, the locks on the door closed. A fire burned in the hearth, warming the room.

Sinking back into the pillows behind her, she slowly nodded as rubbed fingers against her eyes as they still felt sleep laden and a bit dry. "Ah, I know the place, just nae have ever stayed in their rooms. How long was I out?"

"Several hours. The poison was a type designed to keep you weak, by the looks of it." A glass of water was already poured, and he brought it over for her, holding it for her. "Undoubtedly to make it easy to deliver you." Lucius then added.

Muttering for a moment then, Fiona sat up slowly. "Lovely of them to nae use a poison that would kill me then." She accepted the glass from him, carefully making sure she didn't touch him while doing so and took a quick sip. Her arched lips welcoming the cool liquid against them, as she drank. "Thank ye Milord."

"You are welcome, Fiona." Lucius's crimson eyes gleamed softly under the hood, as he looked to her, judging her reactions and how she was doing." "I dressed the wound as best I could."

Just a few hours felt like days Fiona thought, and she idly dragged a hand through the long raven black hair, feeling a bit unsettled and more vulnerable then she liked. "Tis sure it will be fine then. I tend to heal rather quickly these days. I do hope this has nae kept ye from anything important."

Nearly twelve hours had passed since the attack. He had brought her here, ordered the innkeeper to keep the servants away, and then watched over her. "This is where I needed to be." Later, in his sanctum, he would have to consider his actions, and the reasons behind them.

Fiona kept her eyes from looking at him fully but that did have her shooting a brief glance his way and she gave a slow shake of her head with a faint growl in her words. "If this be some more of that atonement be looking for, ye can start for the door now."

He didn't head for the door, but moved back to the chair near the table that he had been sitting at. The imp on the dresser was noted, as he sat down again. "Atonement has nothing to do here, Fiona."

"Well the way ye said that, I can only wonder." She muttered and then took another sip of the water she was holding close and just shifted under the covers, feeling very exposed and hoped she hadn't said anything while dreaming.

"You have enemies that seek to capture you. I will not let that happen, if I can help it." Lucius replied as he sat quietly, arms folded over the chest plate. "I will have food brought up to you, when you feel more like eating."

The mere thought of food at the present made her stomach just twist and she gave a quick shake of her head. "Nae anything right now, with the exception of water. I can nae stomach food. Tis far to warm in here also."

"I remembered you once said one of the best ways to deal with poison is to sweat it out of the victim." Rising, Lucius moved to the hearth to partially draw the shutters, then to the window to crack it, letting in the cold nighttime air. "Far different than what was used against me."

"What was used against me was meant to kill. Tis what I get for the work I do and the affiliations I carry. Part and parcel." She gave a slow shrug, while pulling up the edge of the quilt a little higher on her chest. "Tis likely I need to sweat it out, but as I am alert, tis likely passing."

"They see you as dangerous." And he felt a secret pleasure about that, and then quickly added. "We have plenty of water for you, to re-hydrate yourself." Before he was moving back to the chair he sat down again.

"Aye, that's because usually, I see them coming. There was just more then expected earlier." She paused to take another sip of the water, hiding the fact she wasn't being fully honest there, as it really was her own distraction, which caused her to miss noticing them.

"This war you are involved in what would be gained by your capture?" The question was said evenly, as he watched her unblinking. Something was nagging at him, but he had yet to piece it together.

"Nae much really, other then revenge at this point. T'was supposed be a simple "mock" war and nae a real one. The drawbacks to guilds and their ilk, but I respect my Guild leader and tis only as a favor to him and his lady I even be involved. I nae like wearing a target constantly." Fiona's lips twisted faintly for a moment. "My kills and my status make me a frequent mark."

"Your skills have continued to improve." He nodded slowly, impressed. "These mock wars" What is the return for such things?" Lucius had never heard of such a thing, as War was nothing less than total annihilation of the enemy.

She cursed the weakness of her body. She cursed him for his ability to just coldly rationalize everything. He was so obviously blind to what was tormenting her and she envied his ability to just shut it all off. That had to be what he was doing. No emotion left in the man. In many cases she could respect that, but now needed to find a way to face it, deal with it and put it behind her. It was the only answer.

If he could stand it, then by Hades own kingdom, she would find a way to do the same. He wanted friendly but distant, she would do it, even if she had to swallow every last feeling she had and then some.

Now, she refused to sleep, instead she moved slowly from the bed, wrapping the top quilt tightly around her nude body and was soon settled in the chair before the hearth. In truth, sleep brought more memories and she simply didn't want to remember every last detail of that time so long back.

The soft hissing words of Garith caught her ears and she flicked a look his way. The words few could understand just rang in her thoughts. "Aye, I could ask Uncle, but I would rather nae do that. He isn't the most trustworthy of creatures after all, and any trouble he can make, he will. Tis not an option Garith, for I'll lot let that one meddle with my emotions. Took me long enough to break from him after all." Garith knew only to well how her break had very nearly killed her. The ties having wrapped her tightly into a net that was near impossible to shed and in the end had been agonizing to sever, but she had done it. One of the few that had survived she wagered as well, for the shock of her actions when realized had been real upon the perfect features of that blood relation.

A funny thing, she had those "Adornments" as Lucius called them and both had meaning to her. The first was after he had shattered her heart, and then got him self killed. The second was the break from her Uncle. What had only happened perhaps ten years earlier but seemed like decades since that time. She had fallen so easily to his will, being lost in a haze of grief and then it had taken over twenty years to free her self of his control. She was the mistress now of her own life. She made her own choices and while she had in the end sought the help of another, she now served that God by her own choice. She no longer was a tool to be used except by her own design. That experience had taught her well and she was now jaded and coldly indifferent to most, for everyone by her own realization had an agenda.

She was actually considering a visit to Ceidwynn, thinking perhaps the Goddess had an answer for her upswing of emotions, but was aware the lady would likely tell her to work it out and not offer to just remove it all. Such things did make her sigh again, deeply and with some irritation. There were never any quick fixes, and so she would just have to strive hard to bury all emotions for good. She had been doing such for nigh thirty years, so it wasn't beyond her skill to distance herself.

It was the only answer to the current dilemma. He had it far easier. He was dead where she had not ever faced such a fate. The undead had that advantaged. They were never weakened by foolish memories. Though, his current behavior didn't seem to fit with that. Why he felt this stubborn need to protect her would have amused her in the past, now it only served to confuse her.

She soon fell into a meditative state, something she had learned from her father as a child. It was the means to collecting and controlling the often, unruly demon side of her nature. She had been a difficult child, given to mood swings and rages, but had quickly learned to control them by the careful guidance of her sire, and now she used those skills to slide back behind the walled fortress she had built inside.

She lost track of time, so when the knock came upon the door she was yanked from her pondering and could only blink as a maid entered. "Milord said ye wished a bath Miss?" "Aye. That would be good." Her words were emotionless and quietly even, and for the first time in days she felt more like her usual self.

Moments later a large tub was brought inside by one of the Inn handymen and placed near the fire and soon followed by the array of pails to fill it with the steaming water. It was obviously a luxury here, but as she could well afford it, she just sat watching quietly as the work was quickly and effetely completed.

"Will ye be needing help Miss?" She was then asked and after a slow shake of Fiona's head she sent the maid off to her other duties.

Rising carefully, she found her strength was slowly returning, but was aware it would likely take another day before she was back to top condition, but even this wasn't allowed to bother her.

Placing the towels near the tub she was soon sinking deep into the hot water and felt her muscles start to relax. It did feel rather soothing, and being able to wash the sticky feeling of blood from her skin also was a very good thing.

She was aware she had likely insulted DeAuster with her uncommon questions, but considering he hadn't bothered to answer then, it hardly mattered now. Her mind was set and she was determined to handle this with the best of her abilities. He would no longer cause her to be distracted and careless. In a sudden, surprising flash she realized that in fact, the man she had loved, was well and truly gone, leaving only a cold dead, and unfeeling husk to continue on. Of all the emotions she could feel, the only ones that had any substance to it at all was of hate and fury. The Lucius of the past held so much more. It was a sad thing to realize that the depth and honor he once carried was lost forever.

She soaked for some time and soon emerged once the water had started to cool and quickly dried herself off. She took a moment to inspect the wound, and was relieved to see it healing up just fine as she had said it would. She carried a few outward scars, but most faded to only memories. The worst was likely those she carried within, but as those were never left out in the open, she didn't pay them mind these days.

It seemed that luck was with her, for she was soon easing on the repaired leathers and just smirked, as she should have known he would have thought of that. She might escape after all, for he had not yet returned. Her movements were quiet and careful as she removed ten newly minted gold talons from her own pouch and placed them neatly upon the side table near the bed. A quick call to Garith and he was lighting on her shoulder, tangling the claw like hands into her damp, unbound hair and she was ready. "I should be polite enough to leave a note, don't ye think Garith?"

The chittered hiss at her words sent her towards the small desk and drawing out the paper and quill pen and ink well.

DeAuster, Thank ye for ye help. As I nae wish to be a burden, I am returning to my own home to recover and leave ye to ye own business.

Respectfully, Fiona J. DeWil.

It was as impersonal a message and oddly suited her current state. She had found the right path to take in dealing with this. The past was just that and best left there. She did almost laugh bitterly at his some of his words, remembering them even as she folded the thick paper and placed it over the coins like a tent, his name a neat script and readily seen. Her future wasn't any different from past days. She had stopped caring about what each day would bring far to long ago to change it now. She had lived more in the past then she did now, but she was respected and feared by many. She had earned that and now it was more a matter of maintaining. One day would be like the next, until she decided to move on to something new. For now, she was comfortable in her duties and would remain unless she failed to acquire the shields to combat her own emotions that it. If she failed, which was something she didn't care to consider, she would do the only prudent thing and remove herself from what was causing it.

Another glance around the quiet room and she was fading away, letting the welcoming embrace of the shadows enfold her and was soon back in her own cold and sterile flat. This was her life now, and allowing herself to get dragged into the past just wasn't going to be allowed. That Fiona was also long gone, much like Lucius had been as well, so it was a waste of time to ponder upon "What might have been" and just deal with each day as it came. Of course telling herself that, didn't mean her subconscious would obey, but it was at least a hope she had, as she soon was crawling into her own bed and settling back to rest her weary body.

Deep below the largest of the compounds, the dungeons were a place of cold stone, torches that only dimly lit the cold corridors, and the moans of those who had displeased the Master of the SA. It was here that Jacoby now found himself.

He had been expecting the red-cloaked tarnsmen of Brutin to come for him, and had ordered his own guards to be inconspicuous when the contingent had arrived. Respectful of his position the tarnsmen had nether less ordered him to come with them, an order that Jacoby had acquiesced to quietly. Already worried, the slight man became alarmed when he had been taken, not to Brutin's offices, but down ito the dungeons beneath his compound. His first attempt at protesting earned him a threatening growl from the captain of the tarns, and the unspoken threat as the broadsword he bore was drawn. Again deferring to his rank Jacoby was not set into one of the cells, but allowed to wait in one of the guardrooms, sitting at the heavy wooden table across from the locked door.

The rattle of the lock brought Jacoby from his dark thoughts, and he rose to his feet as the door swung open, allowing the hulking armored man with the strange-glowing eyes to enter. Behind followed Brutins head of tarns, her black braid bouncing off her back as she smoothly stepped inside the room. Since Brutin himself had not come, but had sent his hired help Jacoby attempted to take back some of his confidence. "It's about time. I am a slaver of the forth circle, and have..."

"Right now you have no rank or privileges." Lucius growled softly, walking around the table moving up behind Jacoby, setting a heavy hand to his shoulder and urging him to sit again. Jacoby gasped at the soul-chilling cold of that touch, and quickly jerked his shoulder away as soon as he was seated.

Again Fiona kept her expression impassive, though he quietly found a bit of enjoyment at Jacoby's squirming, having suffered his lecherous glances more than once in the halls above. "What my associate has so..delicately put, ye currently are accused of directing a plot to kill Brutin, something we nae take lightly." Ice-green eyes locked on the blue eyes of the slaver, though she could see Lucius behind him, arms folded across the blackened armor.

"I had nothing to do with that!" Jacoby started to rise, but was again thrust back into the seat by the heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Do you think us fools, boy?" Lucius growled softly as his hand left the slavers shoulder, and Fiona shot a look in his direction. Any retort faded as she realized he was playing the 'good tarn, bad tarn' switch and bait on Jacoby. In that quick glance she also saw his fingers making quick jerking motions, unseen by the slaver.

"Nae, Lucius, He nae be a fool." She leaned over, the cold eyes narrowing as they again found Jacoby's stare. "He sought the path of quick ascension, and nae thought through the consequences." She kept her tone soft, almost friendly, a counterpoint to the soft growl from behind her. Jacobny squirmed, shooting a glance back to the hulking deathknight, then looked back to Fiona.

"I'm telling you, I didn't plan any attack on Brutin!" The fear running off the man was palpatable now, and Fiona pressed on.

"Now, ye be trying to tell us that the guard ye brought into the tavern made to kill Brutin, and ye nae had any knowledge of it?" Leaning back now, Fiona tapped a fingernail against her full lower lip. "Ye know that be hard to believe, aye?"

"Look..." Jacoby started to lean forward, and Fiona's hand moved away from her jaw, a quick motion to stop Lucius from reaching out and jerking the man back, which was what he was about to do. "...those guards were assigned to me by my chief tarn, Belloq." Jacoby glanced to the door, then back to the quiet woman. "I didn't recognize them, but he vouched for them." The slaver leaned back again as far as he dared, not wanting to get any closer to the undead warrior behind him. "I swear, I had, nor have, any plans to harm Brutin. " Fiona looked at Jacoby long and hard for several second, before nodding toward the door. Rising smoothly, she left the room with Lucius, nodding to the guards before stepping down the hall. "Well?"

"Unless he has a way to fool a lying detection spell, he is telling the truth." Lucius replied softly, leaning over a bit to speak quietly. Fiona forced herself to move away, and instead nodded.

"Aye. I nae had any feeling he was lying either." She glanced up to Lucius. "We need to speak to this Belloq."

"Consider it done."

—————

They moved in swiftly, the guards at the gates overwhelmed before they could sound an alarm. The tarnsmen swept across the grounds of Jacoby's mansion, their path not to the main house, but the guard barracks to the west of the manor.

As he approached the door Lucius did not slow, sending the heavy oak portal smashing in with a heavy blow from his broad shoulder. Men were scrambling from their beds and the tables, looking for their weapons, but the sight of the crimson cloaks and weapons leveled at them convinced them quickly that resistance would be a foolhardy gesture.

"Where is Belloq?" The deathknight roared, grabbing the nearest of the captured guards and hauling him close.

"In his office! All night!" Glancing the way the quaking man pointed, Lucius tossed him aside and crossed the short space to the door. Like the barracks door this one was sent spinning off it's hinges, and Lucius stepped into the small chamber, Deathlight drawn and held easily in his right hand.

At first Jacoby's chief of guards seemed asleep in his chair, head leaned forward to rest against his chest. The simple fact he had not reacted to the door smashing in told another story, however, as Lucius discovered when he crossed over to grab the man's hair and pull back his head to reveal the angry slash marring his neck. "Damn!"

"Assassinated." Fiona sat behind her desk, staring up at Lucius as he stood before her desk. He nodded slowly in reply.

"Aye. And with him dead, any secrets have also been hidden again." Lucius was understandably upset, a fact Fiona noted, with a bit of curiosity. "Until we know the truth, we should add more guards to Brutin's retinue."

"Agreed." Fiona rose, rubbing a hand across her eyes. "Will ye see to it' I have a bit of business to attend to in town."

"Is it wise for you to travel, with those assassins trailing you?" Lucius slowly turned as Fiona moved to her door. "If you wait for a few moments, I will go with you."

"Nae!" The word was hissed, as Fiona turned to glare at Lucius. "I am nae wee lass that needs protection." She held up a gloved hand to forstall any other words. "I have someone to meet, and he nae likes strangers." Spinning on her heel then, she stalked from the room before Lucius could reply.

She quickly located Anath in his office and quietly knocked.

"Come." He looked up as she entered and a black brow quirked. "Good eve Fiona. What can I do for you?"

"Tis the Guild Leader of DV. I be here to let ye know I may kill her. We are nae at war with them and still she seeks to have me assassinated and it's starting to grate." She folded her arms over her chest while settling her frosty green eyes upon him. She wasn't asking, she was telling and by the look on his face, he didn't like it.

"There are steps on dealing with these sort of things. Will you not let me try the more diplomatic methods first?" The frown on his tanned face struck her as amusing, but she didn't smile.

"I will give ye two days Anath. If another one comes after me after that, tis no diplomatic means I will accept unless it be Lady Catdrina's head served up on a platter. If she nae wants her play toys battered, she should nae take them into her guild. He challenged me and I nae saw anywhere in the rules I need to take a fall to make some worthless boy toy look good. I am nae paid enough for that." She said this all with soft, cool tones and then gave a deadly cold smile. "She should be glad he nae succeeded in kissing me, else he would be dead instead of bruised up a bit."

"Yes, I know that Fiona. I will see what I can do and get this stopped, if not, I will give you my approval on what ever you feel you need to do to make it stop." He didn't sound the least bit pleased, but at least he was willing to try and stop it through peaceful means first and she was actually allowing it. "Are you feeling alright?" He was slowly realizing that in most cases she wouldn't have even asked first, and being that this was unusual he was suddenly worried.

"Ye did say I needed to clear such thing with ye first. I am doing so. Ye have two days starting now." She gave a sharp nod of her raven head and with a sharp spin of a heel she was off, heading for the exit. "Dark eve to ye Anath."



She returned via the shadowy paths to the SA Halls once more, emerging in the gardens and frowned, hearing the sound of loud music and course laughter. Oh lovely, another one of Brutin's gatherings. She would have to at least make an appearance but she wasn't in the mood to deal with his usual collection of dominant males and their grabbing ways. She was wearing a target, thanks in part to one of those already and wasn't sure her temper would hold. She might blow up at the next one that dared touch her and gut him on the spot.

The thought made her dagger giggle gleefully at the idea and she just strode from the darkness into the long hallway that led to the common room. Once she entered, she gave a quiet nod to Lucius standing guard at the door and was soon making her way towards the man himself. "Dark eve to ye Lord Brutin."

"Ah, Fiona! I am glad to see you made it." He sent her one of his distracted smiles, and she was quickly aware he was showing off some of his slaves. She then nodded to the two Tarnsmen standing at his back. She wasn't in the mood to play bodyguard and as those gathered looked already drunk she doubted any would seek to attack him.

To the bar she then glided, finding her usual brew hidden behind and with quiet and deft movements soon made herself a glass of Absinthe. Once she had that in hand she took up a lean against the counter and just settled into watching with narrowed and moody green eyes.

"So who is the veiled woman Lord Brutin?" One, rather swarthy male asked as his gaze raked insolently over her leather clad frame and then he was frowning at the scathing dismissal caught in the cold frosty green eyes turned upon him.

"That is Fiona DeWil. She's my Lead Tarnsmen and not one to trifle with. None yet has managed to crack that icy exterior of hers any that have tried and usually end up with missing fingers and unconscious on the floor." At least her employer was honest for those words were not a boast but pure fact.

"I bet you one of my slaves that my bodyguard, Emyr can take her down." He laughed roughly, finding he didn't like the expression he found in Brutin's employee's eyes.

"And what is it you want from me if my Tarn looses eh Celidon?" Brutin had that glint in his eye, as the idea of profit always delighted him. Considering this slaver wasn't from these parts, he wouldn't know DeWil's reputation and that made him a very easy target.

"Well, I could say the spoils of the activity. Her for the night." Again course laughter rolled arrogantly from the large man. Even if Fiona lost, the night he expected would end up as his own version of hell, as she would rip him apart before letting him touch her, but as he wasn't aware of that and made no stipulation to what would come, she allowed it.

She caught the stark flare of anger and her own eyes shifted with an arching of a brow at Lucius. She had noticed it and found it as always curious. He apparently didn't like what was being discussed however she wasn't going to say no. The idea of beating some over stuffed slaver stupid had some appeal, considering her current foul mood.

The bets where being placed as she eyed the man she was to fight. He looked smug and overconfident which brought and even colder glitter to her commonly frosty gaze. He had that look about him that spoke volumes on just what he thought of a woman actually beating him. He was assuming she couldn't do it and that brought a cold smile rising under the silken mask she wore.

Soon enough, the dancers were sent to the corner of the room and she rose, tossing back the bittersweet liquid, welcoming the burn as she downed it. She then shed her cloak, and started to remove the array of weapons she carried and all well hidden. She could feel the eyes of many upon her, but was methodical before turning back and stepping into the center of the room. Nothing at all showed on her serene features, except a sort of impassive set to her elegant visage. She was aware the man topped her by a good foot and a half, but size had never been an issue for her as she regarded him coolly.

Once both were facing each other, she heard Brutin's clap. "Begin!" And was instantly ducking under the fast swing that came towards her. The man was quick, surprisingly so but she was faster and instantly caught that outstretched arm and deftly hip tossed him to the hard marble floor before dancing back with a smirk still hidden by black silk.

He scrambled back up to his feet with a low growl and then lunged, seeking to use his superior height and bulk against her. It was rather like how she fought in the Guild games and agile and swift, she stepped to the side, letting him sail past.

Spinning around he surged forward again and even before he could lay his hands upon her, she swept his legs out from under him with a single graceful sailing turn. She hadn't yet actually hurt him, but would soon. He hit the ground with another grunt and then rolled up and managed to slam a meaty fist into her leg, nearly taking her down but she hopped back on one undamaged limb with a hiss.

Neither had drawn first blood but so far she had the higher score for Brutin was keeping track and just moved in nimble quick, and leapt high into the air with a sharp spin and slammed a hard boot into the side of his head. Down he went again and she just smiled coldly at the sight of his now split and bleeding lip.

Even though her right leg was aching from the blow, she kept moving, staying out of his reach until one fake feint caught her and she went flying backwards with blood spraying from her nose. Lucius nearly stepped in but a mental shout from her stopped him in his tracks but the rage was growing. Rolling up to her feet even before the brute could reach her, she growled low and just flat out decked him, her rock hard fist nearly shattering his throat and just dropped him where he stood. The large form tumbled over much like a felled tree, and the rasping wheeze of his shattered thorax loud in the now silent room.

Seconds later, she was wiping the blood away from her face, using the black silk that had been covering it and just glanced over at Brutin. "Ye best get a healer to him soon, else he will die."

The slaver lord, Celidon just looked at her in stunned disbelief then at Brutin before a healer was called for. "Where in the name of the Gods did you find that one Brutin?"

"That's a secret. But I did warn you, didn't I" Oh, and I'll take that redhead you brought along by the way." He was nearly spilling over with the new bounty and just gave Fiona a very approving smile.

"Now Milord, if ye will excuse me, I am going to retire for the evening." She sent a stiff nod to Brutin and after collecting the various weapons and her cloak she was on her way for the door.

She flicked a look over at Lucius, still feeling that fury rolling off of him in waves and also nodded before heading for her own office. Her gait was only slight off but only a well-trained eye would notice and was soon inspecting the damage to her face in the bathroom mirror minutes later. Her nose was broken and eyes already starting to blacken, this she noticed with detachment. Taking a deep breath she reached up with the intention of setting it back into place when she felt a hand come down on her shoulder.

"Sit." He ordered and just started to push her down into a nearby chair. She was then looking up into his shrouded features and gave a hard little smile.

"Yes sir." Her tone was anything but pleasant, as she did consider just standing back up, even as he now inspected her pale face with those red gleaming eyes.

"Stay still, because this is going to hurt." In a quick movement he set the cracked bone back into place and she fought to keep from making a sound even while spots danced before her eyes at the pain.

"Aye, ye were right. It hurt. Think I will live Dr. DeAuster?" She would have smirked, but still getting a handle on the lingering pain the twisted little smile was all she managed.

"Does that happen often?" He ignored her lame attempt at a joke and just growled his own question instead.

"Often enough." She started to rise and winced as the bruised muscle in her leg protested.

His gaze simply narrowed even more and she caught another blast of anger, which instantly drew her darkened gaze upwards at the sheer intensity of it.

"Brutin uses you as a prize and you allow it?" The words were frosty cold and colored with more of that rage.

"As I have nae lost yet, tis hardly an issue. Besides, should I ever fall, one would regret a night with me. If I am nae willing, they would only end up ripped apart." She gave a low snort and finally managed to find her feet, rising just a little unsteadily from the chair. "I did tell ye most Brutin associates with consider a woman nae much of a deterrent until they see me in action. Nae only that, but I have acquired quite a collection of fingers working here."

"That practice stops now." She wasn't at all sure why he was so angry about it. It wasn't as if it affected him in anyway. It was her personal risk and one she took only occasionally.

"As it nae directly has bearing upon ye Lucius, tis nae ye decision to make Brutin stop doing it." She was moving away from him, as the emotion he was emitting from him was becoming over powering. She sank into her own desk chair with a faint hiss as her leg sent a twinge of pain through her tired form.

"You are his employee and not one of his slaves to be bartered liked that Fiona." His voice was raising some and she just waved a hand in his direction.

"Calm ye self Lucius. Tonight, I nae declined as I was in the mood to knock that one silly. Much of the time I do, but ta be honest, it often makes more trouble as inevitably I have to deal with the slaver in question trying to take what he wishes. This way tends to prevent that later as few wish to deal with a woman likely stronger then they are. Their manhood can nae stand that." There was a derisive glitter in her frosty green eyes now, as she looked his way. "It's just one of the flaws of what is in many instances a rather easy position." She leaned and drew a flask from her desk drawer and with a flick of a thumb opened it and glanced his way again. "Nae once has he ever ordered me to do anything I nae wanted. Tis a bit of harmless fun and is nae an insult. Brutin trusts in my abilities to win."

"Perhaps so, but I don't like it." He growled again while moving towards the desk where she was now seated.

Hr head tipped back as she took a swig from the silver flask then looked over at him and just gave a faint and cool smile. "As I nae mind it, I rather think it be my decision to make and nae yours DeAuster."

"What do you think will happen if you lose Fiona?" The red eyes were now slitted lines of fury as he glared down at her.

"I will likely end up slicing up the one seeking to drag me into his bed. Tis really that simple as most nae say I need be willing and as that is the case, they will find I am nae such a fun toy for those frivolous games. Tis nae a practice of mine." Offering then a slow shift of shoulders in a light shrug. "So either way, I still win."

He thought on that for a moment, and then nodded slowly. "I should have realized such a reaction would have come from use of the soulgem." That got a strange look from Fiona, prompting him to continue. "The energy they release to heal only works on those of certain heritage. The undead, and the infernal being the prime examples."

Fiona smirked slightly, looking ahead again as they rode. "And why haven't ye used one of these miracle gems on that tear in your cheek?"

"I have." Was the immediate reply, as he turned to watch the surviving raider behind them. Seeing he was being watched the man started spewing a tirade of epithets at the two, who dismissed his threats and returned to their conversation. "While it can heal damage to my body, for some reason it fails to heal that particular wound."

"A pity?" she whispered, and looked over to him again. "How came ye to bear such a thing?" Now, it was Lucius's turn to ride silent for a moment, uncertain how much to reveal to her. Coming to a decision, he glanced to her as he replied.

"It is the by-product of experiments into trying to give the mask of living." He steeled himself for the mocking laughter he felt would come, but to his mild surprise Fiona merely looked at him curiously. "After my return, I became curious as to what was happening beyond the boundaries of the valley, so I started to look for a means to be able to blend into the populous again."

"Ah. But why not use a simple illusion spell?" Ice-green eyes narrowed slightly as Fiona glanced ahead to a copse of trees near the road, an excellent place for an ambush. "Would that nae be easier to use?"

"The illusion would mask my appearance, but not the affects of my undeath." Lucius nodded slowly, continuing to ride as though he was not worried about anything, but he was keeping a watch on the surrounding countryside. "What I tried to find was a way to completely mask myself."

Silence fell as they passed the copse, and when nothing sprang out to assail them the two relaxed, not having realized they had tensed up. "I take it then ye have given up on this search?" Fiona again cast a look to him, as he rode beside her.

"No. I have given sanctuary to a lich in Gharnholme. In return for a place to safely conduct his research he looks for a way to give me what I seek." Fiona nodded slowly, knowing something of the undead wizards. And that line of thinking brought a soft peal of laughter from her, drawing a look from the deathknight. "This is amusing?"

"Just the thought of one undead, trying to further his own undeath, also trying to give another the illusion of life." Pale lips curled slightly as she looked back to her companion. " "Tis ironic, actually." A hand came up, as she continued. "And nae use one of those things on me without letting me know first."

"Indeed." Came the reply, accompanied by a slow nod.

—————

Later, with the raider safely ensconced in Brutin's dungeon to await his interrogation, and the slave returned to the kennels, Lucius sat behind his small desk, fingers folded together as he thought about the events of the day. Thoughts led to another quandary, the attempted assassination attempt on Fiona, masquerading as an attack on Brutin. Dark thoughts meandered, moving back to another questioning"

Bastion was one of the largest cities of the south, a hub of commerce and political power to rival that of Cisroe and even Karthenium, even further to the north, in the Northern Empires, yet close enough to exert influence here. Many trading costers maintained warehouses and offices in Bastion, as did several mercenary companies and faiths.

It was the last that brought Lucius to Bastion. Accompanied by a small retinue, led by Sir Herzog, the paladin lord had ridden hard as soon as the roads had opened again. Herzog had not questioned the trip, having noted Lucius's sour demeanor ever since they had returned from Cisroe a month earlier. A discreet inquiry had been answered with a low growl and the words "Ordos plotting", which was more than enough to shut the Paladin knight up. Having risen in the ranks of the Ordos Militant, he knew well the whispered stories about the other Ordos's.

"Herzog, find us a place to stay, then come meet me in the Halls of Strength." Lucius glanced back at his lieutenant and the other knights. All looked as road-weary as he felt, though Bran still had the wherewithal to make a comment about the smell of food coming from a nearby inn.

"Aye, milord." Herzog brought a mailed fist up to lightly clang against his chestplate and, after a nod of acknowledgement; Lucius spurred his horse onward down the street.

Still in the grips of late winter Bastion had few street side vendors out, so the muddy streets were relatively empty, allowing him a quick ride to the Halls of Strength, the building from which his order operated in the city. Unlike the Tri-Spires of Cisroe the Halls had no flowing stone towers, but were instead a series of small manor-type buildings within a walled compound in the Temple District. Meticulous-kept gardens were relatively bare, snow still covering much of the ground, though hardier bushes stood green against the grey-white covering. Here and there priests in varying degrees of adorned robes hurried through the chill air, and the quiet had a sense of peace about it.

A peace not felt by the paladin as he reigned to a halt before the doors of the main hall. Passing the reigns to a page, who hurried forward Lucius stalked to the doors and entered the Hall. Though hall was not the best way to describe the cathedral. From the small antechamber before him stretched lines of pews, a center aisle moving to the altar set on a high dais. Here, the arch-prelate celebrated mass with the citizens, officiating over everything from baptisms to funerals. Fresco's adorned the walls, and the skylight bore the painted glasswork of the holy symbol of Leorn. It was enough to impress most, but for now Lucius paid the cathedral no mind, pulling back the hood of the heavy cloak as he headed down the small side passages toward the administrative area of the Halls.

Rounding the corner, he was stopped before a closed door by a man clad in the livery of the temple guard. "Your business, lord knight?" he asked as he stood, eyes taking in the bared chestplate and the emblems it bore.

"Lord DeAuster to see the Prelate Ornorm." Lucius replied, to which the guard nodded, stepping aside and opening the door.

"You are expected, milord." Lucius grunted as he passed into the richly decorated inner sanctum of the Halls. Stifling the urge to sneeze as the cloying fragrance of incense, the paladin glanced around, taking in the rich tapestries depicting scenes of heroes of the order and the small table and leather-backed chairs. It was a waiting room, to which he snorted softly.

A charge through the door to his left was averted by the arrival of a brown-robed cleric, who quickly bowed to the paladin towering over him. "Lord DeAuster?" When Lucius nodded the cleric half-bowed again, and turned back to the door. "Yes, Prelate Ornorm awaits your pleasure." As Lucius again nodded and stepped forward the young man held out a hand. "Milord, you'll have to leave your weapon here."

Lucius stopped shirt, a brow rising. "Excuse me?" He asked, not certain he had heard right, and when the cleric repeated the request to leave his weapon the paladin laughed brusquely. "Priest, I am a member of the Ordos Militant. We turn over our weapons to no man save our brothers in arms."

"I'm sorry, milord, but our rules?" Words cut short as Lucius drew his longsword, the blade hissing softly from its sheath.

"Priest, this weapon is a blessed weapon of the order, borne by the High Lord DeMaine during the Verrok liberations, blessed by his blood and the holy water prepared by Venerated Malus." The edges of the longsword seemed to glitter softly as Lucius recanted its lineage, his eyes held reverently to the blade for a moment. "And you would deny the admittance of a holy relic of the church??

The cleric's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and finally he turned and headed to the door. Sheathing Evilkiller Lucius followed, chuckling softly to himself.

The passage they traveled down was open to one side in a small indoor garden, and on the other by a series of offices for the clergy who maintained the day-to-day operations of the church. Rounding one corner they skirted past three clerics deep in discussion, none giving the duo a glance as they passed by. The cleric paused before a door near the end of the passage, opening it for the paladin, who entered the chamber beyond.

Flinging her lithe frame down into her office chair she shot a sour look over the stacks of papers she needed to review before the end of the day. Her thoughts were far from such mundane duties of course but she started to make an effort. In many ways it was easier with Lucius taking over certain duties she had never cared for, such as the interrogations. Her training had never covered such things, although her father did have many that specialized in those aspects. She however had never been fond of torture, although she had to act in such manners a few times over the years. Even then she hadn't ever really developed a taste for it so gladly relinquished that side to her new professional "partner".

It allowed her time to finished up the payrolls for the Tarnsmen and setting up schedules for the next few weeks. Tedious as the job was she methodically worked until the pile on her large desk was only a memory.

Gloved fingers pushed the light drift of hair from her brow as she heard the giggles and shrieks out in the hall. The sound told her it was likely Brutin chasing his eccentric secretary with that flyswatter again. The thought made her smirk faintly as the girl was truly a handful but could claim to be one of the very few that Brutin was obviously fond of above most others.

Rising she took up the organized documents and was soon depositing them on Tara's desk for the Lord himself to review and sign off on. Once this was done she was able to depart. She had another appointment to keep and quietly side stepped into the shadows.

Some minutes later she was striding down another long hall and entering Anath's office. Outside the storm that had been threatening for most of the day had finally broken, and the gloomy cast was in direct conflict with the warm comfort found in his santium. "Greetings Anath." She said as she pushed the door closed behind her.

The dark head bent down over papers on his own desk lifted and he gave a distracted smile. "Ah, Fiona. Right on time as always."

"Well" Did ye get the woman to back down?" She took a casual stance before him with arms folding lazily over her chest.

"I tried, but all I got for the effort was a lot of double talk." Leaning back as one large hand pushed the papers to the side and he stretched for a moment. "I even told her that if she didn't call off her assassins, you had promised to deal with her yourself."

A raven brow arched for a moment before Fiona's lips started to curl into a cold dangerous smile. "And what did she say to that prospect?"

"She seemed to be amused by it. I don't really know if the woman is sane to be blunt. She's got some idea in her head that because she's a Guild Leader, she is safe from such threats." There was a mild frown on his tanned features as he made that statement. "I did tell her otherwise, but she just told me to get a handle on my pet dogs."

That comment brought and even harder glint to her pale icy gaze and the smile became even more vicious. "So she be thinking I am ye pet dog now?" He rocked back with a low laugh and just shrugged. "I think she was trying to insult me, but I found her words only proved she's unfit to lead. That simple. I also had made a point of bringing a few other Guild Commanders along as diplomatic assistance and truthfully, the four I had asked all think it might be best if she was removed quietly from her position." The blue gaze now swung to rest upon her with a spark she wasn't able to identify.

She was listening without movement, but as he spoke her eyes were narrowing slightly, sensing something more was about to come so she simply waited for him to finish.

"This decision was made and an alliance in turn created. It was not only me she sought to insult, but all the others as well. She's thinking she's better then us and carries more weight, so in turn we are going to pay to have her removed."

"I told ye I wished this job Anath. Ye know I can handle it with little trouble and I nae even require any payment at all." She snorted now, as while she may be semi-retired she felt sure she was still one of the more competent assassins they could find.

"Yes, which is why we want to hire you to do this job." Sitting up he rested his forearms on the desktop and gazed at Fiona steadily. "She does carry some power, but with us hiring you, outside of your guild affiliations, that will misdirect the line of fire when her allies get up in arms about it. That woman has more enemies then most. Now, we would like this to look like an outsider did it if at all possible."

"I nae care if her allies all line up to take shots at me. That woman has pushed to far." She did shift then, arms unfolding with slow control movements as she stepped towards the desk and soon her gloved palms were planted down as she leaned into it. "Fine then. I will take the job. What be the earnings to do this?"

"Ah, first there are some stipulations. So this doesn't just fall upon my guild as you are my representative, the payment is set so you can hire others not connected with any guilds as well."

This brought a frown to her pale-lit features but only for a moment, as she knew who to get and slowly her dark head nodded. "Aye, I know a few I can get that nae have any affiliations with guilds presently."

He pulled a heavy pouch laden with gold from his drawer and tossed it down. "That's $50,000 in gold to start. You will get the other half once the job is done."

She didn't wait, just scooped up the heavy bag with a smirk. "Nae often I get paid for a job I would have done easily for free."

"True, but this way, your just doing a job you were hired to do, making it less a guild duty and more an outside contractor. No single guild in our alliance will be targeted this way against Catdrina's allies." He smirked as it was a sly way of handling things, but apparently he wasn't telling her everything, for it was apparent to Fiona that the woman had to have done worse then just verbal insults. It did make her wonder just what the bitch was holding over other Commanders heads, but she pushed that thought aside. It wasn't her problem or her interest. She now had a job to do and would complete it without asking questions.

"This will be taken care of before the end of the week Milord." She tossed the pouch in her hand as she returned to her full height and smiled quietly. "I have faith that you will Fiona." He gave another one of those mild grins and then watched as she strolled towards the door.

Returning to her own office in the SA halls, she was just settling back into her seat when she felt that familiar sensation he was near and moving closer still. Wintry green eyes lifted as he stepped into the room, just as she dropped the pouch on her desk, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. "How goes the interrogation Lucius?"

"He's not cracked yet." The glowing dots of his eyes moved to track the sound coming from her desk.

"Ah, well I was just hired to kill the one making such trouble for me." Fiona made a gesture towards the black leather bag where it settled with a faint smirk. "I just have to hire others to assist. Those nae involved with any guilds, to make it look like and outsider did it."

"I shall assist you." It wasn't a question but by her thought more a foregone conclusion and her brow arched again.

"I nae planned to ask ye Lucius. I was thinking of a few others that work in this field." She was tugging a glove from her hand and then glanced over at him again. "I do appreciate ye offering of course. . . "

"If they want it to look like someone else's work, this I can do. I am also not active with any Guilds. "

While she didn't trust her feelings in regards to this one man, something in his tone carried the thread of anger and that brought her ice green eyes swinging back up towards him. If she didn't know better, she might think he was angry over her being a target. Of course it was more likely he just thrived now upon inflicting death and any chance presented he would take due to his nature.

A faint frown marked her brow as she considered allowing him to take part and then gave a shrug. He was good at what he did and considering he was already dead it wasn't likely he would be easily injured in this adventure. Then again, she wasn't sure she wanted to work with him in this aspect of her life.

"If I am seen, they will come looking for me." He growled, seeming to read the emotions she hadn't guarded as they moved over her ivory pale features. "If any see ye, that would still lead them back to me. I nae think we want that." She was trying to hide her thoughts now and just lifted impassive eyes to meet his.

"Maybe, but I can always say her antics caused trouble for Brutin, and he in turn requested she be handled." Now she could detect nothing from him and just frowned again.

"He is right after all Fiona." The lord in question commented from a lean he had taken up against the doorframe. Idly twirling a flyswatter in one hand. "All these assassins are bad for business."

She knew that wasn't true, but it would sound reasonable if needed, but she was now annoyed as it looked as if Brutin was going to add his two cents. "In fact, you don't have any other choice. DeAuster" You have a new duty and that is to make sure my Head Tarn here doesn't get killed. Meaning you stick with her while not here."

That had her scowling darkly and her green eyes narrowed to slits of only barely restrained fury. "Milord, I do have other jobs I do. Nae only that, but I do nae live in ye compound either. I nae want Lucius dogging my ever step!" Her usually unflappable manner faltering, and the sudden sweeping anger had her rising slowly from her seat and glowering at both.

"Then let the man help deal with this woman and he won't need to follow you around. The trouble will end and hence the need for him to guard you." He looked almost delighted at getting a rise out of the usually stoic Fiona and she could see the twinkle in those eyes of Brutin's.

It took Fiona only a few moments to get herself back under control. Swallowing the rage, as she was sure they were both conspiring against her. To what end was just another question she felt sure would never be answered.

"Fine then. He can come along and assist." The words coming out just a little stiffly even as she forced her features into that serene mask she generally displayed.

Lucius just remained silent through that exchange, but she felt sure there was likely a smirk behind that scarf he was wearing. Even undead the man still managed to get what he wanted. Of course as she now had a guard she would need to plan out the method for getting to the woman and deal with her quickly. It was the only way open if she didn't want him being her personal shadow. "Just one thing. Once this Guild Leader is dealt with, he nae needs to be stuck following me about."

"Of course not Fiona." Brutin just smirked in that way of his and drifted off, but she was sure she heard that evil man laughing.

Muttering now. "Would serve him right if I served notice for this." Followed with a sharp look at Lucius. "As for ye, this be my job. Ye will follow my orders in how things will be done. Ye understand me Lucius?"

"Yes." His veiled head moved in a slow stiff nod.

She again got the distinct feeling he would still do as he wished and not as she wanted. The Lucius she remembered had been just as determined in similar ways. Taking up a pen she shot another look at him. "I am sending a message to one I know that may be of aid in this as well. Hopefully he will be available."

"And if he is not?"

"Then we may be on our own doing this. I promised the one hiring me for the job, that it would be done in by the end of the week. That be a claim I aim to keep." Moments later a shadow was carrying away her request to Luse where ever he might be. "Ye nae need guard me either. Tis Brutin's way of trying to annoy me after all, and as I do keep my word, be assured ye will be told when and where this assassination is to take place."

Yes, she was dismissing him. Her temper was hanging on the every edge and she needed her space now. Of course he didn't move and that drew another sharp narrowing of her green eyes as she looked his way. "Ye did hear me eh Lucius?"

Fading back into view in an alleyway the cheerful smile was replaced by a more sinister grin. Zaleena inwardly chided herself for playing such a vapid airhead at times, even as she peered out into the damp streets. The smile became more predatory as she spotted the guard walking slowly this way.

The demoness waited until he was even with the alley before "Excuse me! Excuse me!" Her voice paused the guard, who looked into the alleyway before approaching.

"Miss, are you hurt?" He asked, laying the halberd he carried to the side as he knelt beside Zaleena, who had slipped down along the wall. Her eyes fluttered in reply, and as the man leaned closer to check her she whipped her arm around his neck, drawing him closer still, her lips melding to his in an intense kiss. He stiffened at the first touch, but as her lips parted against his he relaxed, responding to her advance.

That relaxation was mental as well as physical, and the marilith's mind sipped into his, a crushing presence backed by the infernal will. After a moment, when she pushed the guard back and stood he merely watched, eyes now vacant under her domination.

"Now, my good man, how about you tell me all about this little neighborhood." Eyes twinkling Maliciously, Zaleena caressed the man's cheek. "Lets start with who lives on this street."

Zaleena learned plenty from the man, about many of the various families and characters that lived on the street, but none was useful. It made little sense to her what would attract the Deathknight to such a location to start with, so now she would just have to watch Lucius closely to see what or who had him so uncharacteristically distracted.

The taciturn Deathknight was usually hard to read but she had picked up a touch of pique. Something or if what she suspected, someone had somehow managed to draw his attention and she had good reason to learn just what it was.

She was pretty sure it wasn't the Sullivan family with all their many fat children or Old Lady Betham, or even the Hobo living out of one of the burned out husks of a building nearby. Such mundane sorts would hardly even draw the gaze of one such as DeAuster. Which meant, this distraction was something serious and potentially profitable to her at a later date. Coming to this decision she was soon removing any memory of her questions from the mind of the Night watchmen and sent him on his way before she herself returned to keeping and eye on her prey.

A few seconds later he faded into view, stepping away from the shadowy wall as though it was a mere doorway. "What's wrong" Has something happened?" Fiona gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head, sending ebon waves around her shoulders.

"Nae, tis nothing like that." She growled, taking another long sip of her wine. "I can nae sleep with ye hovering about, like some kind of vulture."

"I was not intending to disturb your sleep, Fiona." He replied, arms folding before him again. "I am merely performing my duty."

"And there ye go again, about ye damnable duty." The half-elf slashed her arm through the air dismissively. "ye never change. And just look at ye!" A frown marred the pale features now, as she looked at him. "Ye be dripping all over!"

There was a small puddle forming under Lucius, as water slowly dripped from his soaked frame. "Get ye to the doorway!" Fiona snapped, pointing at the hardwood entrance to her condo. With a slight pause Lucius moved to the hardwood, as Fiona growled softly again while getting a towel to sponge up the puddle. "Aren't ye uncomfortable wearing that wet armor?"

"The elements do not cause me concern." Lucius replied, the timbre echoing in the small antechamber. Fiona muttered again, rising to look in his direction.

"Well, I cannae sleep with ye hovering over me. So we need to think of some other arrangement." Even as she said this Fiona knew he would refuse.

"I will not leave my place." Predictably, Lucius stubborned up, returning her gaze evenly. "I can, however, ease your mind, I believe."

"And how can ye do that without nae leaving?" Fiona snapped the question, feeling a dull ache in the back of her skull. In reply, Lucius pulled a bench to him and sat down.

"I will rest, and in return you should be able to also." Hands resting on his knees, the deathknight went still, the glow of his eyes dimming to near nothing. Fiona immediately felt the easing of the almost-oppressive aura, as even the chill that surrounded him retreated. She stepped closer, looking at him with a puzzled expression, bringing a hand up to slowly wave in front of his half-covered face. When Lucius did not respond she snorted lightly.

"Bloody impossible man." She growled softly as she stepped back, and then turned to head back to her bedroom. "Just impossible."

She sat upright in her bed in a sudden movement and glanced around. The air was silent and quiet and across the room a feeble light struggled past a crack in the dark curtains that held back the day. She was disoriented for a moment, while pushing back the thick silken quilt from her nightgown clad form she didn't see him standing in the doorway. The moment she did she fought the sudden urge to cover up. Telling herself that dead men didn't care one way or the other after all and considering she was at least covered, her personal modesty was still intact. "Morning Lucius."

She was pleased at the quiet modulation of her voice. No accusation in it, just a polite tone.

That chilling rasp of his response gave her the urge the shiver, but she stifled that. "Morning Fiona."

Rising a moment later with a lazy stretch she quickly made up the bed before finally reaching for her robe, acting much as she normally would without a watcher at her back. "I nae know about ye, but I need some coffee." Yanking on her robe she was brushing past him and heading into the kitchen to make some.

"I need nothing." He replied while following her back into the large main room.

She didn't say anything for a time, while making her thick morning brew but soon enough felt her scrambled brain was once more in order after downing the first cup. "I will need to meet with a few sometime this afternoon, so if ye intend to continue trailing me, ye may want to make arrangements. Though I do warn ye, those I am speaking with are rather jumpy."

"Jumpy?" Arms folding over that dull breast plate of armor covering his chest while the red eyes regarded her.

"Aye, as many assassins are. Ye might make them a bit more edgy then normal, for they nae know ye." She had a few lined up to meet, including her old friend Luse. The long eared elf was one she hoped could spare the time to take the job of all of them. "I am hoping to get one that be an old friend to assist, but if he can nae do such, I do have some others I can call upon for the job."

"I am sorry if I will make them jumpy but keeping you from harm is my current duty and one I will fulfill." It was an emotionless declaration that made her grind her teeth, but her resolution was now etched in her thoughts so she just nodded.

"Aye, and I am aware of that. I simply be letting ye know for all I will see, are also potential dangers. Nae telling if any one of them may have already been hired to kill me." That was one chance she was taking, but as Catdrina had thus far been using her own forces, she wasn't too concerned, just being cautious.

"If they seek that, they will die." No boast, just stone cold conviction in his response to her warnings.

"Well as it be obvious that I can nae shake ye, I would ask that ye now let me dress without hovering about. While ye may have seen me naked in the past, the past is gone and I wish to be allowed the luxury of some privacy. So, if ye will excuse me." Coffee cup placed down into the sink, she was again gliding off in a trailing of silken robe tails and heading for her own room again. Once inside with the door shut behind her she took a deep breath.

She didn't want him in her bedroom again. It was the one area that showed more of her other nature then anything else. Simple and elegant, with just faint touches of sensuality in the types of cloth and colors she chose. The bed alone was a study in tactile sensations of velvet and silk. Large and comfortably adorned, and the drifting of lace over the top gave it a far more sexual air then she ever wanted others to see. However, this was her home for the moment. She had every right to indulge herself in at least one aspect of her cold life, but she didn't want anyone to know about that. It was far too personal and these days, she didn't even allow such liberties. Even Lusiphur was unaware of many things regarding her past and she aimed to keep it that way.

Soon enough she had showered and was dressing. She wasn't rushing either for she doubted the undead one had any problem cooling his heels while waiting on her. Until this job was complete, he had nothing better to do but to wait after all.

"I said, are ye ready to go, or will ye be standing there for the rest of the morning?" Fiona's frosty tone dragged Lucius's attention back from the thoughts of the past. He slowly turned toward Fiona, who was regarding him with her icy mask in place.

"I am ready." He replied, falling in step behind her as she turned and headed for the door.

Pushing all other thoughts from her mind except for the task at hand, she slid smoothly into shadow once her flat door was closed and locked. Inside the dark realms her eyes made out the various forms of shadow and mist that moved within but she didn't pause, just navigated the paths with proficiency and ease garnered from several decades of use. Time inside the dark ribbons was often difficult to follow, but for her it seemed swift before she was emerging. Stepping out into a filthy ally.

This location of the city couldn't even be called seedy, for it was far worse then that. The dregs of all kinds slunk about the garbage ridden lanes. In daylight, some could be seen rushing from one door to the next but at night, only the more vicious and dangerous would dare roam here.

Even as her gaze lifted to look upwards towards the gray sky, she felt Lucius behind her. It was still early for most, but an assassin's hours had no limits. "Tis the "Crow's Foot" where we are to go. Only about 10 yards across the lane." She didn't expect him to reply but when she started to walk in that direction he would know the reason.

Icy green eyes drifted over the shaded gray buildings in a habitual sweep while she stepped around some foul smelling pile of garbage. Her nose crinkled slightly with the assault on her senses but little else showed on impassive features.

Pausing she looked back to see Lucuis directly behind her. For such a large man he moved with an unnatural silence she found unsettling. Above them the sign swung drunkenly, with a faint creak muffled by the drifting breeze coming off the snaking river just a short ways down. One chain holding it up having broken and never been repaired. It was just the sort of place Luse would like. A dark local where few looked to close at those inside or even outside and tended to turn a blind eye to any nefarious activities.

A gloved hand lifted and sent the door swinging inward. A faint smirk played on her lips, as it was silent in its movements, likely the only thing ever kept in some sort of decent shape. Wouldn't do for anyone to hear the comings and goings of the low lives that inhabited this part of town.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dimmer light that struggled in the gloom to fall and out of sheer habit her hand drifted down to rest idly upon the dagger. It took her no time at all to locate her target. The figure of the long eared elf was lounging in a chair with the back of it resting negligently against a protective wall. Inwardly she felt a fissure of humor at the sight. He looked as if he had last slept some 5 years back with the black hair a tangled mess. A cigarette dangled from his thin lips and on the table rested his common bottle of whiskey, no glass of course. He didn't move, seeming to be almost asleep where he sat but she knew otherwise.

Those dark eyes of his missed nothing and those ears, likely heard them even before they had crossed the road.

The flare of sudden light and the smoke was lit with a plume rising seconds later. "Yer late Fio." Luse muttered with a flick of a hand to motion her over.

"Nae. I am never late and ye well know that Luse." Was her reply as she made her way over with a graceful glide and settled into a seat with a thick supporting beam at her own back.

Black eyes lifted with a subtle squint as Luse's attention was not upon her but on the one traveling in her wake. "Who the hell is that?"

"That. . . Is my bodyguard." The words sounded even enough, but Luse still let out a bark of laughter.

"Bodyguard" You?" Snorting he sat up with a thud of chair legs to the floor and leaned his duster clad arms on the table edge and the piercing jet dark blue gaze remained upon the towering anti-paladin.

Lucius returned the gaze with a stony silent presence that made the elf wave his hand at him. "Would you sit the frell down" Making me nervous looming like that."

"Luse, this be Lucius DeAuster, another Tarn leader with the SA. Lucius, this be Luse." There wasn't any last name mentioned for Luse. Yes, she knew it, but ever aware of potential ears around, she wasn't going to advertise. Professions such as the one Luse still maintained, some discretion was expected.

Another snort at the comment of Tarn and ash was flicked to the side before he took another deep drag. "Never cared for those, but figure the money must be damn good."

Settling into a chair between the pair, Lucius's heavy form made the wood under him moan in protest but it held him nonetheless. He had not yet said a word but did nod his head at the introduction.

"I have seen you around. Your one Tasha likes to torment. That whole silent moody personality she's got a thing for I figure." He gave the quiet man one last look before his attention shifted to Fio. "So what?s this job you need done?"

"I need a guild leader "handled" in your own special way my friend." She was already sliding the pouch across to him. "This is half of what ye will get when we complete the job."

All business now, he plucked the bag of gold from the table and it vanished swiftly into the coat. "When, where and who?"

"When, as soon as possible. Where would be the guildhall of Dark Vengeance, and this be the name of the mark." She pushed a scrap of parchment towards the dark haired elf and it was snatched up for a look. The name brought a smirk to the sharp features and a low, deadly chuckle.

"Ah, I know this one. A right bitch she is. Messed with another friend of mine a time or two in the past. Hell, almost tempted to do this one for free."

"Free?" A brow lifted slightly as she had not known Luse to do many jobs out of charity in the past.

"I did say "almost". But I know one thing about this job I am going to enjoy this one. One less sleazy backstabbing whore in the realms means I am even doing something of a civic duty also." His tone was full of sarcastic humor now. "Tonight good for you Fio' I am between jobs at the moment, so can go anytime."

"Do ye need a layout of the guildhall?"

"Nope. Been there before. Remember, at one time I was sucked into that guild hell until I got smart and bailed from it." The sting of sulfur touched her senses as another cigarette was lit with a snap of a match against his boot heel.

Having worked with him before, he had the mind of a stone cold killer and never forgot the layout of any place he didn't like. For her self it was a matter of always knowing the exits and she did suspect Luse felt the same.

"Tonight it is then. Where shall we meet ye?" Her gloved hands now folded casually together on the table as she waited for him to reply.

"Under that twisted old oak near the graveyard. Just after the sun goes down." A halo of smoke rose up around the tangled black hair. "So, tall dark and silent will be coming along?" Again Luse's gaze rested upon Lucius with a smirk.

"Aye. Until this "problem" has been handled, I be his charge." Took all she had to keep from staying "Stuck with him." But there might have been a hint of that emotion in her tone as it caught Luse's notice.

"Ah, ya don't like the gloomy pit bull eh Fio?" He was snickering and that made her eyes narrow faintly and had him backing down fast. "Look on the bright side. He can handle some of the guards the cat woman will have. I remember her." That being said with distaste obvious in the statement he made. "She likes having men at her beck and call. So he might prove useful. Just hope he can fight better then his brilliant conversation implies."

"Aye. He can fight and tis hard to kill being another bonus." She replied evenly with a flick of her eyes towards Lucius and finding no sign of any emotion at all from him. Most would have had to dispute such words that Luse had spoken, but he just sat listening in that grave like stillness that made her itch to push him over. Instead she rose to her feet with a nod to Luse. "We shall meet up after the sun sets. Until later old Friend."

Luse gave a two-finger salute before the chair was tipped back and boot heels hit the edge of the table and returned to that seemingly lazy lounge of his. "Later Fio and you too DeAuster."

Rising as well, the chair he had been seated in shook and Lucius returned with a nod to the Elf and was then moving out behind Fiona. Having not said a single word during the entire exchange.

Fiona was now thinking of preparations. Already her shadow Sentinels were slipping unnoticed into the DV hall and would wait and watch. She would know just what to expect going in as they would inform her of all activities taking place prior to their arrival there.

Lucius's own movements sent blood spraying, as he did indeed silence the baying beasts with one smooth swing of that sword of his while Fiona simply looked on.

The lover was scrambling away, the man's face showing his shock and horror at the sight of the three, but even before Fiona could move, the Deathknight was on him, snapping his neck with the crunching sound of bones snapping under the vicious twist. It only took her a second to notice it wasn't the same one she had beaten into a near coma from the last war and just snorted faintly.

It was over in minutes. Catdrina's body left crumbled upon the bed, still twitching faintly with her neck neatly cut from ear to ear. "Time to go. Got trouble heading this way." Lusiphur muttered then, wiping the General off on the bed covers before slipping the blade back into place. His even sharper senses picking up on the sound of shouts a fair distance away.

The three quickly moved then, Fiona taking the shadows along with Luc, but emerged only a short distance away from the building to await Luse. Her elvin eyes watching him nimbly navigate down the side from the second floor. In minutes he joined her with a flashing of an evil smile. "Another successful endeavor I would say."

Before she could even reply the entire compound was alive with lights. A frown blooming as they suddenly found themselves under fire from both gun and arrow and quickly had to dart for cover. Luse's laughter soon turned into cussing under the barrage as all three dove into the nearby strand of trees and brush.

Hissing faintly, having preferred a less then dramatic escape, Luse shot a look her way. "Time to part company. You get back to that slaver hell asap. I think I am going to lead them a merry chase for a time." Her response was a short nod as two of her Sentinels moved off with him as the fleet footed elf shot away, leaving her and Lucius to escape by her more usual methods. Into the shadows they both moved then, soon exiting into Fiona's personal office back at the hall.

It had taken a little more then an hour to do that job. Now it was time to establish an alibi. Flicking a look over at Lucuis as he stood in stony silence near the door and arched a brow. "Tis but a suggestion, but ye may want to clean up a bit before anyone be seeing ye." She was already pulling fresh leathers from a closet and was soon heading for the bathroom with the intent of changing. Emerging in minutes looking clean, calm and serene.

"Ah, there you two are." Brutin's voice came from the door as he pushed it open. "I just got a new girl for the block. Won her in a simple game of chance. Need one of you to take her down to the quarters." The sharp blue eyes moved over the Deathknight a moment then gave a mock frown. "Lord DeAuster, can't you take a moment to change after beating on our latest prisoner and change" What will my guests think seeing one of my head Tarn's covered in that traitor's blood?"

"That you are not one to be doublecrossed Milord." The chilled rasp of his voice was the response.

"Perhaps so. However, I would think you should go and clean up, if only to save the sensibilities of Tara. You know how she gets when she scents blood." A smirk following before he was off striding away down the hall calling out to one of his associates.

"I shall go and handle the newest slave while ye go clean up as his lordship has requested." She smirked faintly before drawing the silk back up over pale features. Even before she stepped out into the hall she glanced back and gave a gracious nod. "Thank ye DeAuster for ye aid in recent matters.? Gliding off then and back to her evening work.

"He is at least polite and respectful, but still Fiona, he is hardly suitable. In that condition tis" unlikely he could father children let alone perform and I know for a fact ye nature might require such abilities! Remember, I do "know" ye mother. That one is insatiable." The tiny woman huffed a bit. "Pity as I am sure he was something to look at when alive."

The moment the door closed behind the Death knight, Fiona just slumped back in her leather seat and glowered with narrowed eyes at the now fretting Goddess. "I knew him when he was alive. He be part of my past. That is all. Once I have worked out what troubles me, it will be as it was before Milady, so have nae any further thoughts regarding a man siring children with me. Tis" nae likely to happen anytime soon."

"Ye have care Fiona. That one comes from magics old as my self, if nae even older then that. Nae kind ones to inflict such a torment on any one I add." She spun about and there was a somber pall cast now on her pale features. "Retrieve ye heart child, for that one may not have the ability to care for it. Tis" nae part of his nature."

"As I nae have given or lost my heart Milady ye have nothing to fret upon. DeAuster be an associate now and little else. As for what brought ye here this night is my inability to settle the past regarding him. Tis" likely I am potentially the cause of his current state. Indirectly perhaps." A wry, jaded smile shadowed over Fiona's pale features then. "I was nae good enough for him due to my dark nature when he was alive, but I may still have planted the seed to his corruption."

"Balderdash!" Ceidwynn exclaimed then. "Nae anyone can corrupt another without permission. Tis" more likely it was his poor treatment of ye that caused it, instead of ye doing it by spending time together. So by his own actions he wrought his own torment."

"Perhaps." Fiona didn't fully believe that, knowing far more regarding the end of that relationship so long ago. She knew deep inside what she had done as well, and was aware that it to was part of her current confusion.

"Now be the time to clear the air Child. Tis" only a suggestion but until ye face what troubles ye now, ye will nae find peace regarding that dead man." The lady twisted around to gaze at Fiona, her eyes glittering with a sort of spectral sheen. "Find one that be alive be another suggestion."

That final comment almost brought a bark of laugher, instead Fiona just cleared her throat and shrugged casually. "Considering that the males I tend to deal with I nae hold in very high regard, nor find all that appealing, I shall pass on the latter, Milady."

A frown marred the marble features of the deity at her charges reply, and then sighed. "Ye be young and tis a pity ye be so guarded Fiona. There be plenty about that would care little of ye darker side and accept ye for what ye are. Tis a matter of ye actually finding them that be the trouble"

"Nae any trouble at all Milady. I nae wish that sort of strife now. Tis my experience that such entanglements only lead to emotions best left buried. Ye are right about one thing, it be time to shake off the past, but nae with any intention of finding another male to disrupt what I find to be a rather serene and comfortable existence." Her arms rested easily on the edge of the desk as she leaned into it.

"Ye nae still have. . . Feelings for that. . . Creature do ye Fiona?" It was the almost sorrowful tone used by the lady that made the shadowmage pause, considering that question with some care.

"Aye, I believe I do still carry some affection for him, but more as a figure from days long gone Milady. Tis" hard to forget that first great love. The first mad passion is nae something many woman can dismiss from the mind easily." Nor had she forgotten the pain it had inflicted and she was slowly becoming aware that part of her current state had much to do with the simple act of true forgiveness. And while that was not something she was very familiar with, she felt it might be time to learn just how to achieve that to save her own state of mind.

"I would offer to return him to life as I do have the ability, but I fear what it might bring down upon me. One shouldn't meddle far in the affairs of other Gods, and most certainly nae ones I don't know. Tweaking that annoying Uncle of yours is one thing, but sticking my fingers into powers uncharted. . . " Words just faded off there with a pensive expression. "Such things tend to have certain requirements, none of which ye could acquire."

"Have nae fear MILADY. I will not ask that of ye. DeAuster obviously made some contract that be his and his alone to handle. Tis not my place to question it, nor tamper with the balance of it. In the end it was his own choice so any alterations to what ever deal he made, is his alone to determine and request."

This woman she now regarded had saved her, but it had been by her own request. A plea for help as she sought to break away from her own foolish mistake in contracting to her Uncle, she had fought to break from those bounds and had she not had the aid of Ceidwynn, she would have died. Such things Fiona did not take lightly. She had then bound herself to the fate of this single Deity, and so far she had not a single complaint. In truth the lady was surprisingly undemanding much of the time. In many ways she was the mother Fiona never had as a child. Hence why she was tolerant.

"Aye. Ye be right about that. Ta be blunt, the energy about that one, be the likes I have nae ever seen. Makes me hesitate tampering with the source after all." A wry smile graced Ceidwynn's face. "Call me a coward if ye like, but I am an old, nearly forgotten god, so my powers while formidable, are not as strong as they once were."

Pale rose lips twitched faintly, hearing the note and the meaning behind the words. "Tis nae the energy you can wield Milady, but the wisdom of the ages that makes ye stronger then most others."

"Ah, flattery Fiona" Starting to mellow some?"

"Ye might say that, aye. In truth it be realizing that I can nae ignore what has come before. I intend to face it and move beyond it's grip." The raven black head nodded slowly. Aware that she was going to have to face Lucius and once done, and hoped the tension she felt at his mere presence would fade to a memory.

He merely regarded her with those dead red eyes and slowly arms folded over his armored chest with a nod. "What did you need to speak with me about?"

"Ah, tis time to clear the air I be thinking." Smoothly sitting back, her posture didn't change even if there was just a hint of a strain in the line of her lips. "Ye be wanting me to work with ye without strain and as of late I be finding that nae easily done."

The only response she was given was that almost unnoticeable narrowing of eyes but as she wasn't done, she simply waved to a seat. "Tis nae your fault DeAuster. It be my own issues. This I will admit, however tis time I, explain some thing to ye." her words started to slow for a moment.

Frosty green eyes shifted down, watching the firelight dancing off the ruby colored liquid in the glass for a moment with a faint frown creasing her brow. "I had been thinking that much of your behavior is some misguided idea ye may be carrying. Perhaps a means to assuage some guilt ye may have in regards to my self." He was still silent, as if waiting from insult to come his way and she took an even breath. "Well, as I have decided to confess, then it be time to just do that."

A lean taken to once again pick up the glass. "To start, Aye, I still am bitter. Tis hard to nae be after all. Ye were my first lover, and being so callously tossed aside leaves a very unpleasant after taste ye could say. Ye also wounded my pride." She idly swirled the wine around in the glass with only a glance sent his way. First lover and only lover to date really, but doubted he needed to hear that. Confession as it was, had its limits for her. "One nae likes having their mistakes return after so long. Stirs up old resentments, but I am working on that."

"I see." Emotionless and cold those words, which made her suspect he had no idea at all.

"Next, it be about that last night. When I gave ye the contract." That time she was certain she felt a flair of emotion, but couldn't pin down just what it was, for it was mingled with rage as most she could pick up from him were. She took another sip of the drink in her hand, forcing some of the internal tension to ease by sheer force of will. At this point she wasn't sure there was any delicate or even diplomatic means to explain her own fault in what had occurred but was about to make her best attempt. "Ye be knowing of my duel nature. Of course back then, I wasn't able to control it as I can now." She gave a sharp mental laugh, as she was finding it just as hard to manage as she had then, but could say she understood it more at any rate. "If ye still be feeling any guilt regarding what happened. Be assured now ye nae forced your self upon me that night. If anything, my own juvenile attempts of using that nature caused it." She moved suddenly then, rising swiftly to her feet and paced away towards the window.

"I don't think I am understanding this Fiona." He growled then, but remained unmoving and yet those glowing crimson eyes watched her.

"Ye were so angry and when I couldn't escape into the shadows, ye might say I panicked." Her quiet words hung in quiet room. "I thought I could use my demonic abilities to persuade ye to let me go, but ye see it backfired instead. Had I known then how to use them, it wouldn't have happened as it did." Offering a light shrug, then before she turned to look over at shoulder at him. "Until ye came along, that side was nae something I knew well or used often, so as I said, t"was a novice effort that nae had quite the desired result."

Now she could feel the anger and tensed up a bit more, but having decided to clear the air on that matter she wasn't done and simply turned about to look at him straight on. "Upon meeting ye again I first thought I might be the cause of ye current state, but am nae so sure now if that is the case."

Her black head tilted slightly, sending the long braid swaying with the reflection in the dotted glass behind her. "Any misplaced guilt ye be carrying can now be laid to rest. Ye nae raped me as I suspect ye think." In fact it had been the most intense sexual experience she had ever had with him. But that tidbit of information remained hers alone. Hand lifting then. "However I can nae take the responsibility of having caused ye downfall DeAuster. One I know that is very old and wise told me recently that corruption starts inside. I could nae corrupt ye without us both being fully aware of it. So in that, I accept nae any blame. Ye accepted that bargain."

Oddly enough she did feel better admitting her part in their last meeting. Perhaps her own duplicity in all of it had colored her views of the past as well. Never the less she was going to finish. "Tis time to say I shall make every effort to forget. I shall not say we will be friends and given ye nature, tis" unlikely that friendship is even on the table, but I can manage to be professional and civil and not let that lingering bitterness get in the way if able." A faint, turning of lips in what was a rather weak smile and she continued. "Ye owe me nothing DeAuster. I wish to lay the past to rest and let it done for both of us here."

"Aye, I think ye be right. I shall at the least make every endeavor to do just that." A faint nod of her head towards him, even as she still considered his words. Some of it she found slightly amusing. He had retaken all that was his, but unless he was planning on raising his long dead bride from the dead, he still had some things left unfinished.

As she was hoping to find some level of peace with him, she didn't comment about his pride or good sense. Hindsight such as it was could still be colored by the here and now. Words likely designed to put her at ease. Undead as he was, it was likely still something he might attempt.

His remarks about her being in his last thoughts had nearly made her laugh. Was likely her own warnings to him he remembered as his heart slowed in that lingering painful death. She had been telling the truth then, but suspected as before he simply hadn't trusted her dark nature enough to believe it until it was simply to late.

She refused to delude herself. She had given him her heart so long ago, but now knew he never could have felt the same about her. "Pride before good sense, Indeed." she thought with a mental snort.

Turning away to look out of the window, she hid the sting that gave her and shrugged it aside. She wouldn't let her emotions rule her now. It would only bring disaster after all.

At least now she felt confident she could handle this enforced partnership and still maintain her reputation as a "Ice bitch". Perhaps he would back off on this need to protect her when she was capable of taking care of herself.

"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me Fiona?" He then asked in that emotionless rasp she was becoming used to.

"Just one thing. I nae wish Brutin to know anything about our past DeAuster. Tis nae any of his business and it would simply give him some ideas. Which the man nae needs." She turned to look just at him with a stony expression of her own.

"Of course." He stood unmoving and still while those cold red eyes of his regarded her.

"That be all then. I shall see ye in the morning then DeAuster. I thank ye again for meeting with me." Her ice green eyes had narrowed again, feeling something moving just outside and if the energy was right it was another of her uncle's party toys. Twice in such a short time meant trouble for her and she carefully placed the now empty glass down on the tabletop.

For only a moment her anger flared, but was switched off rapidly as she moved to take up her cloak. "Forgive me, but there is something I just noticed I need to deal with DeAuster. Dark eve to ye."

She didn't even wait for his reply, simply slipped away into the darkness she knew well and in minutes was stalking that creature from her uncles Realm. There was no way of knowing what the being had learned and she was going to make sure it could impart nothing to that relation of hers.

Emotions from that past had caused her to make an agreement with Morningstar, and there was no way she was going to give him anything to use against her again.

It was a chase across the landscape. Her uncle's agent was moving and eluding her with surprising skill, a fact that was making the anger harder to contain. Eventually she had little choice but to relent having lost the trace and just stood on the edge of a rain soaked cliff and glowered out into the stormy darkness; Eyes flashing with the sheen of crimson, stark and furious. "Ye will not control me again Uncle."

At her side Garith just hissed low. He was the one thing left from that time. A bound blade she couldn't discard, for it carried part of her very life in its core now. The dark imps energy was also her own and upon learning what would happen if she sought to break from it, she had deemed it unwise. Instead she had spent ages instead, bending the energy to her own will. It now served her and no one else. The dagger might not fully agree with her decisions but he now followed her commands,loyal to her in his own way.

Though she was certain it was now due to their shared life force. If she died, the imp died after all, so being a creature set on survival, that bond was fully shared.

Another low hiss and she returned to the shadow paths, taking them to the sanctuary that was her flat. Her uncle had best take care however, for the next time she wouldn't give up but hunt them down and later send him the pieces of what ever was left.

Inside Fiona was passing Luse his share of the contracted gold. "I do enjoy such easy jobs Fiona. Feel free to ask me again any time you need." He quickly pocketed the bag and with a flare off the end of his cigarette, was strolling out the door, likely to deposit it in a safe place.

Perhaps it was her location or maybe just that refined instinct she had which had carried her well over the years, she however caught a sense of something the moment she stepped back out onto the docks.

Her dagger hissed low, picking up on her mood instantly and gloved fingers wrapped down against it with a snap of the security that held him in place at her hip. Ice green eyes narrowed but otherwise she maintained a relaxed posture, striding off in her usual way back towards the main road.

She didn't use the shadows, being a little curious about who would dare attempt anything with her. Was it one of Catdrina's old lovers perhaps" Or someone bent on revenge from some old job' No way of knowing except to simply confront it.

Innate senses stretching outwards then, seeking to locate the danger she knew lurked nearby and caught just a hint of something moving up behind her.

It all happened in an instant, and she went sailing in a skid across the cobbled road with a hissing of surprise. A dark form was hurtling towards her and she reacted, blade coming up in a swing even as she sprang upwards. Blazing red eyes met a nearly matched set and the true battle commenced.

Hissing as claws raked through the dense leathers and she danced back, Garith screaming in her mind. A quick spin and she lunged in quick, the sharp edge of the blade slicing through flesh and drawing a startled growl from the creature attacking. Blood sprayed as the two forms circled and clashed, with neither gaining the edge.

Fiona already knew she was facing one of her uncle's hellspawn so her tactics shifted with talons tearing through the leather gloves and she sprang towards the beast with black claws ripping viciously at it.

The lashing of a tail sent her flying off, crashing into the side of a building, with debris falling down around her. The scream cut short as she found herself choked with dust but quickly scrambled to her feet. Slightly blind she moved now on instinct and raw power and leapt forward again, the shrieking blade slamming hard into the armored side but she was again sent sailing back, feeling some of her own bones snapping at the hard impact into another building, the brick wall unrelenting.

She could see the beast bearing down on her, with swords flashing in several hands and even through the pain she moved, rising up on shaky feet and unleashed her Sentinels in a last ditch effort to gain the upper hand.

Zal hadn't been prepared for that, as she suddenly found herself caught up in a maelstrom of razored claws and snapping teeth as the woman called upon magics or powers she hadn't known of. She did the only thing she could then, shape-shifting and taking flight away from certain destruction. The dragon's scream ringing in the air as she sailed off at high speed.

Fiona wavered on her feet for a moment, before finally slipping back and sinking down. She had survived the attack, but getting back was going to take some work. Every breath was agony and she was sure more then a few ribs were broken, along with her left arm and right ankle.

Drawing in every bit of energy she had, she muttered darkly. She didn't feed as one of her nature should. Usually she would soaked up emotions along the way and funneled that instead, but of late she hadn't allowed that link much room for it and it was showing now just how lax she had been. Eyes flecked with a sheen of blood red narrowed faintly. Sending out faint threads in a search for one that might help. It was just her luck that her aunt was nowhere near. At this point pride be damned she thought and just latched on to the next best target. The link weak, but at least she could locate it. "DeAuster, I be in need of some aid."

It seemed to her that he arrived even before she had finished the request and just lifted her bloodied head to look at him. "Ye be quick, I will give ye that."

"What happened?" He asked in that usual emotionless way.

"Something big and nasty attacked me, what do ye think?" A hiss of pain as she sought to rise back up on her feet. "I be hoping ye have a means to get me back to the hall, as I nae can use my usual method." She was still losing blood and that meant her shadow form would mean certain death. It was one major disadvantage to her talents.

Feeling his hand coming down on her shoulder to steady her, she didn't jerk away for the first time since meeting him again. In fact, she rather welcomed the cold touch, as it jolted her out of the lethargic sensations moving over her.

"Brace your self Fiona." She registered the cold request mere seconds before a shudder ripped through her. He had used one of those blasted soul gems again and in and instant felt the heat of its power moving over her body. Leaving trace of the echoing screams bouncing around in her mind. Once again the bloody thing had triggering her demon, which was already hovering just near the surface and she shivered violently in the aftermath.

"Gods I hate those things." But she couldn't say more as the agony was easing somewhat. At least enough so she could breath without feeling light headed and weak.

"You will still need to rest." This added even as she felt herself being swung up into his arms and her body went tight for a moment with another instant stirring of that demonic side she carried. Personally she was starting to think her other half had some serious issues, as it was reacting to the touch of a dead man, but wisely held her tongue and just gritted her teeth tight against the pain that lingered and those insane responses.

In mere seconds she found herself still held against his chilly frame as he settled into the saddle of that Nightmare of his and just took an even calming breath. The cold he radiated didn't even bother however, her dark half's reaction to it, left her fighting back against it with determination.

A bit stilted, as she was rather uncomfortable in this current position. "I thank ye for coming to my aid DeAuster."

"I could not ignore your call Fiona." Was his stony reply with a glance down at her from those equally dead eyes of his.

She remained tense, feeling every little jolt all the way back to the hall and just forced herself to channel the pain towards something more useful, such as keeping her demon side from doing anything inappropriate or stupid.

In surprisingly short order she was passed over into the care of Brutin's own personal healers and only then did the tension in her body start to ease. She knew where her attacker had come from, but not the reason, for Fallen was not prone to killing family, even those he was angry at. It would cause several unpleasant ripples across his domain and she felt pretty certain Belial would gladly make those into crashing waves if given the chance.

She could drop in on him and simply ask, but the idea of entering his domain made her skin crawl a bit. She hadn't seen him in several years and felt certain it would be best to wait several more before attempting that.

Daugolozan stalked along the quiet tunnels that ran underneath the old keep of Ravens Fast, growling softly as his irritation of the current state of affairs grew. None were about to see him, otherwise he would be tempted to take out his anger on any such unfortunate. Given the mercurial temper, though, it was a toothy grin that graced his razor-thin features as he swept into the main hall.

"Ah, I see you have returned, DeAuster." A bow, almost mocking, had his sleeves sweeping the floor before he stepped away from the doors and headed toward the large table set along one wall of the chamber. Lucius stood there, looking over one of several maps laid out on the tabletop. Beside him the skeletal warrior Sir Herzog stood quietly, only the creak of the vertebrae coming as the black eyesockets moved over the "mage". Another of the undead warriors stood at the end of the table, flanking a cloaked and hooded figure. One of the so-called Acolytes, Daugolozan recalled, a sneer threatening to bloom.

That had been quite a morning, as the sun rose over the mountains to reveal a ragged group standing before the gates of the keep, keeping the ghouls and other undead at bay while their leader called out for the ruler of the hold, petitioning for an audience. Their leader, Karthos by name, asked that he and his followers be allowed to serve Lucius. The gods they followed had led them here, he said, to help build an empire that would eclipse all others. Lucius had been both quietly amused and surprised by the request, and had granted the petition, allowing Karthos to settle his people into the cloisters of the old chapel, while Zaleena claimed the upper level as her abode. Lucius and his knights dwelled underground, in a network of tunnels slowly being expanded by undead clawing at the rock unceasingly. A small watchtower served as Daugolozan's laboratory, off limits to all except the Lord of the keep and, secretly, Zaleena.

"Well met, mage." Lucius rumbled quietly as he turned to regard Daugolozan's approach. "And to what do we owe the"pleasure?"

"I came to talk to you about my supply of subjects to continue my experiments." The disguised dracolich replied airily, waving a hand in the air for dramatic effect. "I have nearly run out."

"Indeed." The deathknight's eyes flared slightly as he regarded Daugolozan. Out of the corner of his eye Lucius saw the near-hidden stiffening of Karthos's frame. The Acolyte had made his objections to Daugolozan's experiments to bolster the undead's already-formidable powers. His early experiments had made the predatory ghouls faster as well as lengthening the time the paralysis caused by their claws. Karthos thought the alchemical experiments an affront to his own god's beliefs, and only a timely intervention by Lucius had spared the human's life when he had verbally confronted the mage. Afterward, he and Daugolozan had kept a respectful, if quiet, distance.

"We are making plans to get you more subjects, mage." Lucius pointed to the map, specifically an arm of the Ridgedown mountains. "A nomadic party from the plains have decided to camp here, due to the weather, most likely." Piercing orage-red eyes met each in turn. "A perfect target of opportunity."

"My lord, some would undoubtedly make excellent sacrifices to the Quadravant." Karthos looked to the undead warrior, and Lucius could easily see the gleam of fanaticism in the man's eyes. Another time, and it could have been a mirror of his own. "Khorne and Tzeench would wlecome such a gift, and would smile on your endeavors."

Slowly, Lucius nodded his agreement, and behind him Daugolozan rolled his eyes in irritation. "Yes yes, all power to the Quadravant. Blood blood blood, give unto thee!" A hand again waved in the air, and the knight beside Karthos put a hand on the living one's shoulder to keep him from diving over the desk.

"You blasphemous heretical?"

"ENOUGH!" A fist slammed into the heavy tabletop, sending a booming echo throughout the hall and silencing them all. "This will end now!" The guttural voice, usually little louder than a loud whisper, now roared as Lucius glared at each in turn. "Karthos, you will have your sacrifices. And the best will be turned." The robed man, for Daugolozan could never decide if he was magus or some kind of priest, slowly bowed at the waist to Lucius.

"Your will be done, m'lord." He intoned softly, then straightened up with a dark glance Daugolozan's way. Had a heart beat within his chest the undead may have felt a bit of worry, but the ancient being merely flashed his rival a smile, sharp teeth gleaming in the low light of the gloworbs.

"Daugolozan, what is your progress?" The bastardation of his name brought Daugolozan's attention back around to the deathknight.

"I have a new formula that shows much potential, but I need new subjects to test it on. After all?" he continued with a noncommittal shrug,?"a wrong mixture is hard on the test subject."

"Indeed." Lucius growled again softly. "Tonight's raid serves two purposes then. Though, it would be nice to see something positive soon." The low voice held a soft edge as undead stared at undead.

"As I have explained before, these things DO take time. Alchemical combinations is a lot like playing god, you know." His flippant attitude toward his work brought another soft growl from Karthos, but Lucius remained still in his regard.

"Time is one thing, mage, but procrastination is another." The deathknight growled softly, before turning and heading toward the chamber's exit. Another glance shot Daugolozan's way, this time with a sneer of contempt, and Karthos strode toward the same exit.

"Yesss, you stupid simian, keep thinking you've moved ahead in his eyes." Daugolozan growled under his breath, already planning a most fitting end to that one.

The physician grumbled softly as he closed the door and turned, nearly running into an armored figure standing in the shadows of the hallway. He jumped back with a curse, only now seeing the blaze of light in the murk. "DeAuster, I'm sorry, didn't see you there."

"How is she?" Came the rumbling growl as the undead warrior stepped out of the shadowed niche, accompanied as always by an aura of cold.

"She is resting for now. And her wounds are healing much more rapidly than I would have thought." The physician, one of only a few priests Brutin trusted, shook his head as he spoke. "By morning, she will be nearly completely healed."

"Good." Lucius replied, looking toward the door. "That will be all." A quick nod, and the physician hurriedly moved down the hall, relieved to be away from the deathknight. For his part, Lucius dragged a chair over by the door and sat down, where he kept vigil for the rest of the night. Only as the first rays of sunlight crept over the walls of the compound did he disappear, sensing Fiona beginning to stir within.

"I was unable to find out anything about your attacker." Lucius stood before Fiona's desk as she looked through her papers. "Whoever it was was very good, not only to leave no trace of themselves, but to equal you in combat."

"Thank ye for the compliment, DeAuster." Fiona replied off-handedly, frowning as she looked at one of the papers, a letter from Brutin informing her of a visit later that day by a representative of the Co-operative of Slavers, a small faction of slavers who had banded together to compete with the larger groups in the area. Of course, the representative would insist on his own bodyguard, they couldn't be unarmed, a host of other things. Fiona was already starting to get a headache from the thoughts.

"I believe that my attacker may have some connection with my uncle. If that be the case, then it's no surprise that ye found nothing." Tossing the paper aside she looked up to the silent deathknight.

"Then I will speak to your uncle about this." He growled softly, and his words brought a short barking laugh from Fiona. "What is so funny?"

"DeAuster, it is kind of ye to make the effort, but I'm afraid that Uncle would not tell ye anything." More likely to set his pets on ye, she added silently as she slowly stood. "Ye let me worry about my uncle."

"Very well, but I would suggest we add more regular patrols around the compound." Lucius slowly turned as Fiona moved around her desk toward the small bar in her office, where a servant had set a plate with fruit and eggs, a steaming beaker of coffee beside it. "Just to be certain."

"DeAuster, that would be a bit of overreacting." Pouring a mug of coffee, she glanced over to him. "We have today to worry about a representative from a rival slaving faction coming to see Brutin, nae worrying about something that may happen."

"Fiona, I?"A knock on the door stopped Lucius in mid-sentence, and a dark brow rose on Fiona's features as she moved to the door and opened it, revealing one of the tarns holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Pardon the intrusion, milady, but these were brought to the compound last night for you." Now Fiona looked indeed puzzled, as she took the flowers the guard held.

"Who brought them, and why ask for me?"

"It was a young woman, milady, and she didn't ask for you by name, but the description was dead-on for you."

Fiona was silent for a second, then nodded. "Thank ye, tarnsman." Nodding his head to her the man turned to leave, Fiona shutting the door and turning to Lucius, who had silently watched the exchange. "Coincidence?"

"I do not believe in coincidence, Fiona." He said simply. Setting the flowers aside, she nodded slowly.

"Neither do I." Taking a long sip of the hot coffee She looked over to him. "With the visit of the Co-op this evening, things will be quite hectic. A perfect time to sneak into the compound."

"I will have extra guards, on the walls and around the main hall." Lucius turned to go to the door, then paused as he reached for the doorknob. "It is good to see you well."

"Thank ye, DeAuster." Fiona glanced over at him, and slowly nodded. And thank ye for getting there so quickly.? Orange-red eyes glanced over to her, and he nodded slowly to her before opening the door and leaving, heading to put preparations into place.

In a surprisingly short time, the gathering was in full bloom. Standing in her usual place a few feet behind Brutin's chair, she just settled to watching. Frosty green eyes moving around in brief inspections of those around, noticing that they were just like all of Brutin's usual Slaver associates. She endured the insolate raking of eyes over her person without any hint of emotion. Fiona never cared if they looked it was the attempt to touch that drew her ire.

A silent nod send towards DeAuster as he moved into place near the door and just waited for what ever antics would start, as the combination of food, drink and other entertainment once the basic talks were complete often lead to other forms of trouble.

"She isn't a slave Captain Barban, but an employee. I would suggest you leave her to her duty."

The large dark man gave a snort of laughter at Brutin. "You have a woman as your guard" Tell her to come closer so I may have a look at her." Those cold black eyes making a very detailed inspection of Fiona, behind the Slave Master even as he spoke.

It was those words that actually brought her attention back around. She didn't often listen to Brutin's conversation as most tended to be about things she didn't need to understand, however the gaze was starting to bother her. Returning the man's stare with a chilling look from the icy green eyes and a raven brow arched faintly. She didn't move just remained in her usual pose. Arms crossed casually over her chest with legs spread slightly to brace her firmly on the floor.

Brutin gave Barban a sharp look before turning to put his mug down on the table near. "I will not tell her to come closer for any sort of inspection as if she was a common slave. She is one of the best Tarns I have and should be treated with respect due her position." Twisting back he rested his hands on the arms of his chair. "Feel free to look at my property across the room for anything of interest. " He then added with a wave sent towards the array of woman set there for that very reason.

"Ah, a Free woman?" That was followed by a course hard laughter, but he did at least turn his eyes towards Brutin. "One that doesn't talk constantly' That is a very unusual thing to see Milord."

"She doesn't need to talk much. Most of my Tarns don't for their job is to observe and guard." Brutin's tone was showing the strain that his tolerance would only last so long.

It seemed as that potential irritation was averted and she simply resumed her own habit of watching. Even as the evening wore on, she didn't relax her guard. She was only too aware that the more the alcohol flowed the chances of trouble would rise. Considering that her Demon was still hovering just under the surface she was hoping this would be one evening where she wasn't required to manhandle any. Knowing only to well such a hope was wishful at best, for Brutin was much a magnet and also an instigator to finding and calling down Chaos.

The moment a hand came down on her shoulder with a rather bruising grip she didn't even think. Her body went into instant action and with a blur of movement her fingers were wrapping about the man's wrist and with a deft twisting flip just sent him skidding and bouncing uncontrolled across the floor. She watched with a detached satisfaction as he sent several chairs and a few tables flying. She started towards him while idly drawing the leather taut upon her fingers in turn. "I nae like to be touched."

The look of surprise on Barban's face shifted instantly, to one that seemed up for a challenge. "That is because you haven't found the right man to teach you otherwise."

Her tone was chilling with the green eyes narrowed to cat like slits, which didn't hide the swirling sheen of red over taking the color, but the anger couldn't be even noted in her softly spoken reply except for the faint hiss she made. "And ye be thinking ye can "teach" me otherwise?"

"Fiona dear, please don't hurt him. . . Much." Brutin said with a slow shaking of his head. "I did tell him to leave you alone, but like so many before, he wouldn't listen."

"I believe I can." Moving back to feet a little unsteadily, he gave a dark smile full of intent and pulled a whip from his belt. A quick snap and light danced off the metal tipped ends. "Most bitches like you just need a good beating to learn the error of their ways."

It was at that point DeAuster moved in with stunning speed, and before the man could utter another word or move, an icy gauntlet was closing down hard around his throat. Barban's eyes nearly bugged as cold crimson orbs bored into his and he stopped that instinctive struggling, just hung there in that one handed grip, with the whip falling useless to the floor at the Deathknight's feet.

Fiona stopped with an imperceptible flinch, as Lucius's rage nearly over whelmed her already ignited senses and she struggled to get a handle on her suddenly rocketing emotions. Realizing that when she had seen him draw a weapon her own had been taken in hand, but she was battling the darkness and had stiffly re-sheathed the blade with stiff movements. Her fury was self-directed now, as she had nearly lost control, something she prided herself on never doing.

"I did warn you Barban. Now, DeAuster you can put him down. I doubt he will make the same mistake again, Will you Captain?" Sadistically Brutin watch the man try and pull the hand from his neck and just gave one of his sudden smiles. "I have some of the best money can buy acting as my Tarns after all. They are not the kind of people to cross swords with."

Sending a silent hand signal to other Tarns standing off to the side, three instantly replaced her behind Brutin's chair and she just walked out. Temper hidden, but she knew only to well it was barely in check. Outwardly none might notice but she knew intuitively she had been about to kill that male dog without a second thought.

Slipping out into the garden where it was quiet, she drew in slow the cool night air evenly, while using every trick she had to restrain the demon trying to claw free of those very bonds.

Her eyes closed, Fiona basked in the soft wind blowing through the garden, using its cool embrace to beat back the demon lurking near the surface. Since she had felt no further flares from the beast she decided no blood had been spilled in the hall. At her side Garith grumbled softly, lamenting the missing of a delicious meal.

"Hush, imp, lest I toss ye into the pool to wait the night." She grumbled softly, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming, and not wanting the addition of Garith's mental proddings.

As the tiny voice died down she took in another deep breath, and lost it almost immediately as she felt a wave of cold wash over her, independent of any wind. "You nae need to ask, DeAuster. I be fine."

A small 'tink' drew her attention down, to the gold goblet that had been set on the railing. "I had no doubt about that. I merely brought you a drink."

Even with the rough rumble his voice seemed sincere, so Fiona took him at his word, picking up the glass and was glad she wore gloves, as she could feel the chill in the metal. The wine tasted exquisite cold, she noted offhandedly.

"Ye have me thanks, DeAuster." She said as she lowered the goblet, causing him to pause as he was turning away. Crimson nova's met her ice-green eyes as he turned back.

"There is no need for thanks, Fiona." The cloth of his hood shifted slightly as he nodded to her.

"Nay, you distracted him and the others before things turned ugly." The thought of her demon escaping control under such circumstances did not please her at all. "He will not soon forget his trip." Lucius chuckled softly, the sound eerie in the darkened garden. "Will you be rejoining the others this eve" Or should I tell Brutin you have retired for the evening?"

There was a pause, as she considered her choices and gave a slow nod. "Give me some time and I shall return. Nae wish that male dog to think he chased me off, would look bad."

It was a short time later she returned, slipping back inside with a cool drift of eyes roaming over those still in attendance. Her mask was firmly in place once more and she felt reasonably confident she could keep her dark side reined in.

Sensitive ears caught the whispers but for once she didn't care if they believed she belonged to DeAuster. Let them think what they wished, as long as it kept them from trying to touch her she was willing to allow it.

Taking up a lean against one of the marble pillars, she didn't resume her usual place, but stayed more to the background now. It allowed her a vantage point without placing her into the direct line of fire for within the thrall of dancing slaves and their masters, one was radiating anger. Glancing over towards the silent deathknight she gave another nod and wondered if action would come this night or another time as the emotion was not easing even a little.

The next day, one of the gate guards arrived at Lucius's small office with a sealed letter. The deathknight was poring over papers, as Brutin was preparing for a trip to his homeland to sell a contingent of slaves. It was a trip that he would not accompany the slaver on, given Gor's unique lack of magic, and thus was preparing reports for his counterpart in the other realm. Those notes were nearly complete when the guard cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"Pardon the intrusion, but this was delivered for you at the front gate." Like most of the tarns in Brutin's employee, the young man was extremely nervous at being around Lucius by himself. Even at the door he could feel the coldness that waft around the deathknight like a shroud, and the piercing orange-red eyes could send a thrill of fear through the stoutest of men.

Lucius looked up to see the small letter the tarn held, and nodded. "Set it on the desk." He growled softly, which the tarn did, gratefully making his exit and heading back for his post. Lucius finished up the last of the paperwork, a task he found tedious to the extreme, and then regarded the envelope setting on his desk. With a faint snort he tore the flap open and pulled out the small note within, but the words had him sitting bolt upright as he read them.

I know about the attack on your master. If you wish to know, Meet me at 117 Warehouse, the warehouse district, tonight. Bring no one.

Thus far, the search into the one who had ordered the attempt on Brutin's life had come up empty, and it seemed fortuitous that an offer to shed light had come to him. Lucius, however, did not believe in fortune as that. A fingertip idly tapped the paper as he considered the myriad threads of possibility.

A quick glance out the window, taking in the sun dipping down toward the swell of mountains, and he rose and headed for the door, taking up Deathlight and sheathing the sword as he stepped into the hall. Only two of Brutin's kajira were in sight, and they quickly vacated the hallway, seeing him heading down the hall toward them. The sight of the two scurrying away brought a dark chuckle from the deathknight, but he quickly focused on the task at hand.

His path led to Fiona's office, where he paused to knock on the door. After several seconds wait he knocked again, this time casting out with his senses to try to see if she was inside. Ever since their talk, when both agreed to try to get along with the other he had purposefully tried to mute his presence around her, so as to try to keep her at ease. Now, though, he felt nothing. Growling softly to himself he started off down the hall, stopping the first tarn he saw. "Have you seen Lady Dewil?"

"I don't believe she came in his morning, milord." The guard replied with a shake of the head. "At least, she did not arrive through the main gate."

"Very well." Lucius growled again softly, and belatedly dismissed the guard with a wave of the hand. She was undoubtedly working on some project of her own, he mused, perhaps stalking a target for one of those wars her guild dabbled in. In any case, she was not there, and Lucius's idea for backup was fading. He did not trust any of the tarns enough to be inconspicuous for this upcoming meeting, so he indeed would be going alone. However, he thought to himself, I doubt there are many who could hope to stop me, should this prove to be a trap.

Six shapes moved in the murky dark, though as they closed he could make them out as clear as if they stood in beaming sunlight. Two with crossbows, working on reloading their weapons, and three swordsmen who were closing the distance. One, perhaps more eager than the others or thinking Lucius was helpless, made to grab Lucius's arm, but that put him well within reach, and Lucius was anything but helpless.

A flexing of fingers, and twin blades dropped down over his hands, called into being by the spells enchanting his gauntlets. As his left arm was grabbed and twisted back he half-turned, his right arm slashing upward and sending a spray of blood across nearby boxes from there the blades sliced upward along the swordman's chest. Forcing back the cry as agony washed over him Lucius followed with a hard jab with his left hand into the man's midsection, giving a quick twist before roughly withdrawing the gore-covered blades and letting his enemy drop to the floor, clutching at his ruined stomach.

Using momentum to complete a tight circle in place, Lucius found himself facing a readied crossbow, the wielder having finished loading as the deathknight had dispatched his first attacker. Lucius started to duck left, but the bolt flew too fast, and true, and he felt it bite into his left thigh, seconds before blinding pain blossomed, buckling his leg and sending him to one knee. His hand hit the floor to keep him up, but the jarring pain coming from the bolt in his shoulder forced his arm to crumple, sending him into a sprawl.

The two swordsmen circled, one to either side of the fallen knight, and while Lucius struggled to get up a familiar voice grated on his ears. "Well, well, fancy we meet again, and so soon!"

The last shade detached itself from the background and stepped forward, revealing the beaming face of the slaver Barban. "Did you really think Brutin was the only Gorean with contacts in the barbarian realms?" Grating laughter filled the warehouse as Barban walked a wide circle around the struggling Lucius, staying behind the swordsmen as he did so. Stopping beside one of the crossbowmen, he shook his head in mock sympathy. "I know those have to hurt. After all, they are blessed by one of your realm's arch-priests."

That explains the pain, Lucius thought fleetingly as he finally got back to one knee, hidden teeth gritting with the effort. He had already tried to bring forth the power to kill, but he couldn't focus enough to call the Power Word into being.

"And did you think you would get away with putting a hand on me?" Barban continued, still keeping a wary distance. "You, a barbaric infidel, dare touch a Master Slaver" It's bad enough that Brutin lets himself be protected by free women and abominations, but to allow them freedoms not even a Chief Tarn would hold" It's heresy."

"And you?talk too much." Lucius growled, slowly turning his head to watch Barban as he paced. "So I hurt your precious feeling of superiority, and you needed to get revenge." Even with his body wracked with pain from the blessed bolts there was no mistaking the contempt in his words. Again, Barban laughed softly, shaking a finger at him.

"And you think this is just about you?" with a low snicker the slaver started the slow circling again. "You're being so self-centered you're not even able to put the whole picture together."

"Then why not tell me.? It was taking every ounce of willpower for Lucius to remain where he was, as the pain from the blessings put on the bolts coursed through his body. Unable to rise beyond one knee, his eyes followed the slaver as Barban moved around the small knot of people

When they hit the water Lucius and his enemy had sank like a stone, weighed down as they were by their metal armor. The man had struggled to free himself from the deathknight's grasp, but Lucius had the hold locked in, the ending a foregone conclusion when the man stopped his struggles, water flooding his lungs in place of the life-giving air.

Finally letting him go, Lucius watched the corpse slowly float away to quickly be lost in the blackness of the water. Not needing to breath himself Lucius had no worries there, but the four bolts remained in his body, and when he tried to pull the one in his shoulder out he howled silently in the watery depth, the pain paralyzing him in the attempt.

It was some hours later when he was finally able to crawl out of the water, a small part of his addled mind noting he was no longer in the river, but down the coast, the fast-flowing river having washed him into the bay. Clutching at cypress knees and branches to pull him along he finally settled in the shadow of a large water-cypress, the heels of his boots still dipped in the dark water. The moon was setting behind the mountains, sign that daybreak was only a couple of hours away.

There was no more strength in his arms, and no longer able to keep the pain at bay, he felt himself slowly slipping toward the final dark. Mustering the last of his willpower, he sent out a call to help, daring to hope but not expecting to be able to reach any who either served him or allied with him, and dim orange-red eyes slipped closed as he drew in on himself, trying to marshal his energy to fight the raging surges of pain coursing through his body.

A veil of grey"featureless as a morning fogbank"a blank void in which he floated.

So, this is what it's like to be dead.

The thought ran through Lucius's mind, but was immediately discarded. First, this was unlike any Hell he had been told of or read about. And any thoughts of Purgatory was similarly discarded, as he took a better look around his featureless prison.

Featureless, but not silent. All around he could hear"things. Mindless gibberings, in a multitude of voices and tenors. One would rise, then fade back into the murky din of the rest. He slowly turned in a circle, seeking whoever was toying with him. "Show yourself!" He shouted, and immediately cringed as the words echoed back at him a thousand-fold. Men, women, children, ageless and aged were the voices.

Anger flared within the dead chest, and the deathknight whirled about again. "Enough games! Show yourself!" This time the blowback sent him careening, spinning like a child's toy through the void, until finally he slowed to a stop. Cautiously he drew his hands from his ears, and warily glanced about. "What in the name of the Nine Hells is this place?"

Ah, finally, a question worth noting. No multitude this time, but a single, clear voice. Gutteral, feral felt the timbre.

Yes, he finally thought of a true question. A second voice, this one reedy, almost nasally in its arrogance, reminded him of one of the librarians in the Tri-Spire's Hall of Records.

He is impatient, demanding now, rather than using patience. A third voice, this one behind Lucius, was definitely feminine, husky, almost wanton.

"Who are you?" Slowly he looked around, and it appeared to Lucius that slowly, arrayed around him like a compass, four darker masses were lurking behind the veil of fog. "And where am I?"

Two questions, before the first is answered! And now, a fourth voice, sounding full of plegm, like one of in the midst of bronchial problems. This one is truly impatient!

Which is not a bad thing. Feral, as he quickly tagged the first voice, replied, the scorn fairly dripping from the gutteral tones.

To answer your second question, you stand between your fate and your destiny. Slutty said softly, feeling as though she was whispering in Lucius's ear. He whirled around, but all he could see was the wall of grey that surrounded him, and the formless masses beyond.

And to the first, we are the powers that be. Bookworm sounded as though he was posturing, but Lucius wasn't that impressed. And, something was nagging at him, tugging at the edges of memory'

"You I know!" He shouted, turning to point into the fog, toward where it seemed Bookworm's voice originated. "You came to me when I was dying, offering me a chance to avenge myself."

And you succeeded most admirably. Bookworm did seem to be preening, if the self-appreciating tone was any indication.

And now you are a plague onto the living, undead as you are. Sickly wheezed as he laughed softly, sounding as though he was about to cough up a vital organ. The very sound threatened to make Lucius sick to his stomach, even though he knew there was no true way of that to happen.

Aye, you have given us a banquet to feast upon. Feral howled, the sound sending shivers down Lucius's spine, and he instinctually ducked, almost feeling the graze of claws along his back. Slowly glancing around again, the deathknight felt something building within his core that he had not experienced in many a year: fear. Death, destruction, ruinous!

But it is time for you to move on. Bookworm's authoritative voice echoed in his mind, overiding the others and setting Lucius's teeth on edge. It is time to face fate, or seize destiny. Fury came right on the heels of Bookworm's words. Slutty and Sickly following.

To be undead is to be unmoving along the course of destiny.

To be unmoving is to be stagnant.

To be stagnant is to diminish.

Diminish, and cease to exist.

As each spoke in turn the voices all around picked up on the words, and soon the void echoed in a cacophony that again had Lucius covering his ears, his eyes closed as he tried to block out the tumult. Finally, he reached out to either side, his own voice joining the din. "ENOUGH!" As the roar faded into the greyness surrounding him the voices ceased, as though cut off with a daggerstrike. Slowly, he looked around at the looming shadows around him.

Yes"

—————

Orange-red eyes snapped open, staring into the canopy of cypress limbs above him. Daylight penetrated the leafy shroud in small rays, spotlighting the soft loam on which he lay. He didn't remember crawling from the water, and as a second thought, he didn't feel the pain nearly as bad as before. And, there was something else?

Slowly, he turned his head, to see Fiona sitting beside him, her head dropped as though she was dozing. So close, it was almost like he could feel her breathing, the warm air rushing into her lungs, then expelling again. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Beside her he could sense the bolts, even covered as they were by a cloth, and even this close they sent an arc of pain through his wounds. But, all that was set aside as, slowly, a trembling hand rose to slowly brush a fingertip against a pale cheek.

((With Fiona's last post, the reposting of the story started in the Blood House Onyx folder is now complete. From here on the story is being presented for the first time. And now, on with the new additions.))

"Aye." He growled softly, availing himself of the hand Fiona held out to him to rise to his feet. It was good she was there, for she was able to catch him before he toppled right back down.

"By the gods, this armor must weigh a ton!" He heard her mutter as she slipped an arm around his back, bearing his weight on one shoulder easily enough. He was doing his best to try to limit the weight she had to take, but found it was harder trying to manage the wounded leg. Even removed, the effects of the blessed bolts was draining his strength and undead spirit.

"There is a building over there." He pointed toward a copse of trees near the edge of the water, a shanty half-hidden in the low-lying cypress branches. Fiona just grunted, changing direction, and the two limped down the beach. No words, just a shared desire to get out of the open. Luck was with the two, as no lock barred their way inside the shack.

The interior was a mirror of the outside, rough-hewn boarding, a rickety table and two chairs in one corner, a pile of bedding that looked unappealing to both in a second corner, and a large pile of bags of wheat in the third. The bags, of all in the room, looked new, and Fiona slowly leaned Lucius against them, before moving to sit down wearily in one of the chairs.

"I'm thinking, unless the owners of those bags come for them, we've nae any worries about being disturbed." Fiona wearily rested her head in her hands, fatigue coloring her tone. She refused to let Lucius see her being worried this new tendril of feeling she was feeling, quietly afraid it would somehow give him control. Lucius didn't answer from where he slumped against the bags, and after a moment she glanced over in his direction. "What happened?"

"It was Barban." The words were soft, but the anger was quit evident there. "He lured me into a trap." There was a pause, long enough for Fiona to wonder if he had somehow passed out, before he continued. "He was using"local mercs."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" Fiona growled softly, shaking her head at the news. "He's a power-grubbing little worm of a man." Leaning back in the chair, she sighed softly. "Brutin should have let me kill him."

"There's something else, Fiona." The soft words brought her gaze back to Lucius again. The deathknight still had not moved, though the dim glow of his eyes was an odd comfort, showing he was still"alive. Fiona almost laughed at that thought. "Barban"mentioned others"helping?"

"We'll deal with that later." Closing her eyes for a moment, she sighed softly. "We need to rest for right now." It was a war to raise her head again, to glance over to the now-quiet deathknight. "I'll keep the first watch, and the rest we'll deal with in the morning."

*****

Awakening with a start, Fiona blinked rapidly, trying to figure out where she was. For a few seconds confusion reigned, but then the sleepy memory kicked in, spurred by the sight of the bags in the corner. But there wasn't a sign of Lucius in the shanty.

"DeAuster?" Standing, she reached down to touch Garith's hilt, more for reassurance than anything, making certain the impling blade was still at her side. With the dimness in the room she guessed it was late evening or night, and the supposition was confirmed when she opened the door to the sight of the last bits of light settling in the west, washing the sky in a panoramic of reds and pinks. Quietly she cursed herself for sleeping through the day, putting the two at risk in their weakened condition.

Lucius stood under the low-lying branches of a massive cypress, a hand resting on the tree's large trunk as he looked out over the water. The sight brought another flash of memory, and Fiona bit the image of what had occurred the night previous back down, hoping the "link" had been an unforeseen and short-lived side-effect of her unorthodox healing. Slowly she walked down the slope toward the water's edge and at her approach he slowly turned, blazing eyes watching her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Aye, as well as could be." Stopping close, she peered at him, head canting to the side. "And how about ye, DeAuster?"

"My energies have returned, and the body will mend in time." The sepulchral tone dropped a touch, as he regarded her. "Thank you again, for helping me last night." He slowly nodded to her; the head dipped long enough that she would know it was genuine respect.

"We will need to warn Brutin about what happened." Fiona pulled on her glove, wiggling her fingers to insure it was seated tightly. "He'll want to deal with Barban himself when he finds out about this.

"Aye. Perhaps call a hunt on Barban and those he plots with." This time there was no mistaking the grim tenor in his voice. Lucius was imagining wrapping his hands around Barbans throat, and this time not letting the pressure up until the slaver's spine snapped under the press of undead strength.

*****

"I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about this" Leaning back in his chair Brutin looked to Fiona and Lucius, who stood on the other side of his desk. Fiona's eyes had narrowed at the refusal, and she could feel the anger flowing from Lucius. Bringing a hand up to forestall an explosion from the deathknight, she leaned over the desk, her other hand bracing her.

The two had arrived back at the SA halls a few hours after sunset, neither speaking of the personal contact between them. They had discussed at length what Barban had said, and upon arrival Fiona had sent a message to the slaver lord. Soon enough, they were ushered into his private office, but neither had expected the bombshell Brutin had dropped.

"And what exactly, do ye mean by that?"

"It's simple, Fiona." Brutin sighed, clasping his hands before him as he looked between the two. "First off, I believe you two. But, unfortunately, neither one of you have any proof of Barban's plans. Without that, I cannot bring him before the others for judgement."

"Gah!" Snorting, Lucius brought a hand down in a slashing motion, nearly hitting Fiona's. "I've seen you move against your enemies on less that what we have told you this day." His voice was low, and both Fiona and Brutin could hear the edge in it. Fiona nodded in agreement, puzzled over her employers's refusal also. More than once she had dealt with slavers and their plans for elevation within the rings, and her taking of Haze's fingers was still whispered about in the SA Halls.

"Perhaps, but they were declared enemies. As of now, Barban is a trading partner, albeit a shifty one." Brutin's hands parted as he shrugged. "If you can bring me proof that he was behind the attempt at your life?" A quick cough, as he trailed off for a second. Fiona caught onto his unspoken meaning, and quickly nodded.

"Aye, ye be needing proof. And proof ye shall indeed have." A quick glance to Lucius had the undead turning for the door, though he was stopped as Brutin called out to him as he stepped through.

"Don't go and take his head either?" Again the trailing off, and Lucius silently added a word to that sentence, as he and Fiona left the master slaver's offices.

Yet

While Fiona had begun to contact her old allies, Lucius had left the compound, stalking the moon-and-lantern lit streets of RhyDin City toward the Temple District. As the night grew later the number of people on the streets grew less, with most migrating toward the inns and taverns across the river that bisected the city. Which suited him completely.

When he had stormed out of Brutin's office he had taken one of the bolts used in the ambush, having wrapped the thing in a towel beforehand. Even through the layers of cotton and leather he could feel the lingering presence of the blessings that had been placed on the weapon, and the touch made the darkness within him want to recoil and toss the bolt aside. Resisting the urge with a soft snarl, he moved deeper among the quiet streets, slipping from shadow to shadow like a wraith, avoiding the more lit intersections in lieu of murky back-alleys.

His plan, if it could be called that, was simple: Find out who had enchanted the bolts, and wring any information he could from them. It had come in the white rage of being denied a chance to chase Barban, but now, as the boiling temper cooled, he was considering exactly how to do so. What do you plan on doing, just walking up and knocking on the damned door" He knew as well as any the grounds and buildings of the temples were blessed areas, anathema to beings of his ilk. Even though he felt he could force himself inside the compounds, the mustered might of the clerics and warriors within would undoubtedly take advantage of his weakened condition.

As these realizations formed against his plans Lucius slowed down, finally pausing near the mouth of an unnamed alley to gather his thoughts. He was trying to think of a way of luring one of the priests away from the compounds when soft laughter gave him pause. A young couple, walking hand in hand, had paused near him, drifting into the mouth of the alley, where the deeper shadows were thought to hide the kiss they shared. Neither noticed the hulking form, a deeper pool of black in the darkness, just behind the young man, nor did they notice the twin pinpricks of orange-red suddenly flare, as memory surfaced"

They were strolling arm in arm down one of the many canals of Straddleford, enjoying a mild autumn afternoon. Both knew the time was fleeting, each having to return to their respective inn to prepare for the trip back home. But for now, they were at ease.

Lucius smiled, looking down into Fiona's pale features, and on impulse he pulled her aside, between two of the brownstones lining the canal. Her startled laugh was quickly cut off as his lips pressed hungrily to hers, a spur-of-the-moment sharing of affection each knew was dangerous, should someone who knew them might be watching"

The brief reverie was broken as the girl pulled back, complaining about the sudden cold that filtered down the alleyway. As her beau put his arm around her shoulders and led her away Lucius melted into the shadows behind him.

*****

The call caught him as he floated in the clutch of the Weave, and he immediately diverted back toward the compound, fading into view behind Fiona as she held the guard aloft. She wordlessly handed the note to Lucius, who skimmed over the contents, the air around him growing cooler as his anger flared. He glared at the traitor, then back to Fiona, handing her the note again. "Look at where he was sending it." Again the bright red eyes moved to the guard as he struggled in the shadowy bands, his hands itching to wrap around his neck and strangle the life from him. "The bastard's running for Westridge.?

A heavy knock on her door brought Fiona's attention back from her light meditations. "Enter." As the door opened she was already coming to her feet, knowing beforehand who had arrived.

"I am ready." Lucius stated simply as he entered the office. A slim brow rose slightly as she noted the lack of any baggage, her own rucksack now held casually as she moved around the desk.

"Aye then. Have ye thought about how we should pursue Barban?" As they started down the hall Fiona slung her sack over a shoulder, looking to her companion. Soft-glowing eyes shifted toward her for a second before he nodded slowly.

"I have a way for us to catch up to him, hopefully before he crosses the border." The deathknight turned down another hallway, leading toward the stables. "According to the guards on duty when he left, Barban was traveling by carriage, along with his guards."

"And may well be meeting with more mercenaries along the way." Fiona added, "hmm"ing to herself. "If that be the case, then he will nae be traveling with at great speed."

"Allowing us to catch up with him." Lucius finished the thought, holding a door open for her to exit the compound. Fiona bit back the flash of annoyance, merely nodding to him instead. "I have a way to travel the way quickly, if you are so inclined." The undead warrior led her around the side of the stables as he continued. "It will allow us to arrive without bearing the strain of long shadowwalks." Fiona stepped around behind him, and paused for a few seconds at the sight of the steeds that awaited them.

"Nightmares." She said simply, looking at the infernal creatures. While the body was that of an undernourished horse, the sparks of flames striking from the hooves and the flame-red mane, moving with a life of its own, would be enough to separate it from the more mundane. But to look into its eyes, pits of dark amber, was to catch a glimpse of the lower pits that spawned the beasts.

"Aye. We'll catch up to him soon enough on these." Lucius said as he swung into the saddle, Fiona shortly following suit after tying her rucksack to the saddlehorn. She glanced his way, frowning slightly as the faint thread of his ire seeped past her mental defenses again. For his part Lucius was looking forward to the chase, and on getting his hands around Barban's throat again. And this time, there would be no Brutin there to stop him from finishing tightening his fingers.

*****

"Let me guess, they've already left." Fiona sat back in the saddle as Lucius slid into view from the shadow of a large oak. The deathknight did not reply as he moved to his mount and swung into the saddle, but the feelings of ire and disappointment she could feel told her all she had to know. "Nae worry. We'll have him soon enough."

Lucius turned in the saddle to look at her, eyes glittering under the drawn hood. It wasn't the first time recently that Fiona had guessed something that had been on his mind, and vice versa. Even now he could feel a cool calmness from her, counterbalance to the icy rage simmering inside him. The hunter on the path of her prey, her demeanor held him back when he wanted to lash out. Strange, he thought to himself, I wonder if she has the same thoughts.

"A man fitting Barban's description and a small party of armed men stopped at the inn for a few hours, and then continued on their way." Spurring his nightmare, he moved up beside Fiona's mount. "The innkeeper said they appeared to be heading for Westergate."

"We'll nae catch him before he reaches the city itself." She tapped a fingernail against her bottom lip, thinking. "From what I read before we left out, Westergate is an unofficial checkpoint for those entering and leaving Westridge."

"And it is a haven for those prospering in the cross-border black market trade." Lucius added with a slow nod. "Many vices to be had, if one knows where to look."

"And the perfect place for our quarry to stop and relax." Fiona finished, looking to her companion. "With a bit of luck, of course."

The place was full of activity, for the weather had become colder with the winds heralding the storm following the drop in temperature. They would be lucky to get a room, but knowing the ways of places like this, Fiona was prepared. If one offered enough gold a room could be had and one that would offer privacy. Considering Lucius, appearance, that was a requirement for his presence alone would be unsettling otherwise. "I nae suppose ye might have some special spell that will allow ye to appear to be alive for a brief time?" She asked, adjusting her pack on a shoulder, feeling the weakness in over used muscles with a tightening of her features.

He gave no answer to her question but the blaze in his eyes faded, giving them a dull appearance like brown stones and just stepped in after her. The chill still rode him, but in the hallway, with the door opening and closing frequently, few would pay it much mind.

It was an obviously popular Inn, which suited her well enough as it would be less likely they would draw attention. Her only hope she could get at least one private room. Of course with enough gold one could do just that usually and so she headed for the commons seeking the Inn Keeper, while pulling the black scarf away from her pale features.

Mrs. Gliradon was quick to offer assistance, introducing herself as the owner of the place and after a bit of discussion, a room was acquired with the exchange of more gold then it was likely worth. Of course learning there was a festival to start by the end of the week, along with the wicked weather, Fiona was aware the cost might not be as bad as first believed.

A glance over the bustling tavern, Fiona was quickly aware that there were a surprising number of armed men about. Some appearing to be Mercenary while others belonged to more formal Orders. Most of which were standing near the warmth of the hearth with tankards of ale and talking quietly amongst themselves. Other patrons were scattered about at gleaming wood tables. Some drinking or eating while others seem to just be socializing, as such places did allow for such.

"Here be the key Miss. I only have one rule. I expect nae trouble in my place. Ye break anything and ye pay for it, or I have ye hauled off to the goal. Though looking at ye Lass, I nae think I be having trouble there." Mrs. Gliradon smiled as she patted the smaller Fiona on the arm. "Of course ye man there be another matter. Ye keep him in line and all will be well."

"Aye Missus, I will be sure to keep him on his best behavior." Ice green eyes flickered as Fiona glanced over at Lucius, quite aware he heard every word.

"I will have one of the maids being ye up some food. Ye be welcome to eat down here also if ye like, but I know most just want to rest after traveling."

"Ye be very kind. Aye, I would rather just relax in our room for the evening. Thank ye again Missus." Gloved fingers wrapped around the key with a faint smile, and then Fiona turned and headed back towards Lucius.

"I managed to get us a room. May nae be much, but better then staying in a barn or stable. It will at least be private." Two days without rest had her drained. Shadows under her green eyes and due to having to keep on constant guard, she was actually feeling just a bit shaky. Food would certainly help that, having not eaten much while trailing their mark. "There be a festival at the end of the week, and along with the weather, as there be rumors of another storm heading this way, I got lucky."

It had cost her a bit, but nothing major as Fiona could well afford it, as it was, the room was a surprise. It was decorated in a simple but soothing manner, a welcome sight to most travel weary patrons. The large bed was appointed with down quilts. Two large comfortable chairs sat near a warm hearth and a table between. Double doors opened outwards to a private balcony. Something that Fiona found useful. Would make entering and leaving easier.

Tossing her pack down beside the bed, she glanced over a shoulder at Lucius. "I did ask about two rooms, but the lady only had this and space in the commons left." She hadn't thought that bedding down with others would hold any appeal for him anymore then it had for her.

Stepping inside behind her, he just nodded slowly with a look around from eyes that appeared dark. The red sheen still banked for the moment Fiona suspected, so as not to draw attention. "Indeed. I shall reimburse you for this later."

"Nae. Tis my own comforts here, and I can easily afford this." Tossing her silk scarf down over the back of a chair, her cloak quickly followed. "Unlike ye Lucius, I do need to rest a few hours before I start to search. I have sent my Shadow guards out already, if they find him, I will be alerted instantly. I also be sure our man is nae staying in this inn, though it be apparent if he is looking for more Mercenaries, he has come to the right place. The town be crawling with them if the sight of the Tavern below be any indication."

At the knock on the door, Lucius moved away from it, stepping over to push open those leading to the balcony and walking outside. Leaving Fiona to let the maid in. The girl immediately setting the platter of food down on the table with a smile, and then bobbing a quick curtsey she spoke. "Just leave the tray in the hall when ye be done Miss. We will collect it later."

"Aye Miss. Thank ye." Handing the young girl a silver Fiona watched her depart and then glanced back at Lucius. "Mind closing those" Tis a bit cold out there.?

Fiona thought she felt an emotional flash when he first woke, but fobbed it off as having likely startled him out of that meditative state he had been in. Perhaps a lingering memory and little more, and in truth, she didn't feel fully comfortable at the idea of trying to identify it. She couldn't maintain her own distance if she allowed herself to wonder what "feelings" he was experiencing.

His question the night before about the ability to change things, had been answered honestly, but she hadn't given any explanations. There were a number of things she would have liked to change, but as those "things" were now in the past, it wasn't possible. It was more a case of revisiting old wounds then to ponder long upon those. Fiona had never been one to pick at the scars of days long gone.

"One of my Sentinels reports that our prey might be ensconced within a gaming hall in the heart of the city. A place of both gambling and ill repute so tis' a decent point to start I think." Tying the snug laces of her boots with a firm hand, she glanced up towards Lucius. "It may be best we use the Shade to search first. Tis' a good bet he will nae be easily taken from such an establishment, without trouble."

It had been a long time since she had actually ventured into such dens, and knew from those long ago memories, that places rolling through the gold and catering to multiple levels of power both above board and below, tended to hire the best security. Their target would be well protected while within those walls, so if that was the location where he had taken refuge, they would likely need to bid their time. Irksome as it was, waiting for him to venture out to continue his flight might be their only option.

As Lucius rose from the seat near the banked hearth, she shook out the heavy velvet of her cloak and swung it around to settle on her shoulders, the folds slithering down to her heels and reached for the black silk scarf, gloved fingers draping it along her neck with long habit and then frosty green eyes shifted towards the Death Knight, still feeling the lingering strands of emotion hanging tangibly around him. "Tis' called "Hades Haven". Such a blatant name for a place of that nature but should it make it easy to find."

"Indeed." His rusty voice rolled over her as he also secured his own scarf as it had slipped some while he was in reverie. "You are certain this is the place he is entertaining himself at?"

"Nae, never certain about such things. My shadows report what they learn and one fitting his description was seen there recently. Tis' entirely possible he be staying somewhere else, merely visiting the place as any other patron." Sliding an unusually silent Garith into the sheath at her hip, Fiona turned once more and gazed at her companion.

"It is at least a start. Perhaps it would be best if I searched the place while you stay outside and keep watch." A suggestion perhaps, as his gauntlet covered hands clenched, the movement catching her gaze.

Frosty green eyes narrowed, detecting something that didn't fit, aged lace and creamy silk that looked out of place but before she could be sure that was what it was, he was pulling the edge of a glove up, masking it from her view. Mentally counting to five she lifted her gaze, regarding him with a bland, stoic expression. "If ye be saying that to spare my "sensibilities" ye nae need bother with that. I have been in far worse places over the years, even worked in a few while tracking a mark. Such things to be found there, nae shock me nor trigger my baser instincts." Her last few words holding a bite in tone as she turned away from him.

Lucius's eyes that had been dull in tone flared a bright crimson with a sudden flash of anger mingled with something else she couldn't as quickly recognize, yet Fiona felt it instantly forcing her to turn away from him and stride towards the door. "You "worked" in such places before?"

"Aye. I have." She didn't pause then, instead she stepped out in the hall, failing to explain that the jobs she took had been more in line towards innocent of occupations such as card dealing, bartender, security guard, ladies maid and as a dancer that was clothed and not what she knew he was instantly assuming. He had thought her morality questionable in the past, and was quick to make that same mistake now. Such a realization triggered the anger to curdle within her, but she was just as quick to bank it down. "I shall meet ye below." Her tone was frosty and clipped as words were tossed over a shoulder towards him.

Fiona strode away, steps just short of stomping as she dealt with her own swinging emotions. Outrage, resentment, infuriation and even old hurt all swirling and in mental desperation she sought to bury back down deep within. Let him think what he would. Fiona owed him no explanation, but did promise herself one day she would knock him flat for those erroneous assumptions regarding her morals both in the past and present.

Across the street from the address she had been given and Fiona glanced at DeAuster, frosty green eyes were flinty in her pale features. Masked as she was, he couldn't see the thin line of lips. "It be rather popular as I suspected."

"If he is in there, we shall have to keep watch until he leaves." He rumbled back, he shifted his position then, leaning against the brick of the shop they stood by.

Her dark head turned and she regarded the doorway. It was flanked by two burly bruiser bouncers types with muscles bunching even as they stood stiff and still in place. The look of the place appeared to be more of that a hotel, which gave her a moment of thought. "I nae got much information about the place, but tis' possible it be some kind of Inn as well. Perhaps we should see if that is the case."

"Aye. Wait here." He straightened and then strode across the street, slipping easily into the flow of humanity heading inside and she scowled faintly at his departing back.

Aye, she would wait, but was none to pleased at the presumptions. He had always been that way, so Fiona wasn't surprised, but she couldn't help chaff at his persistence at continuing it. She didn't like being reminded either. It was becoming a bit of a problem when memories mingled into reality in ways that created tension with in her.

He appeared to be taking his time inside, and she was aware that the guards at the door were starting to watch her. She turned then and just entered the shop behind her and had to muffle a growl as what she found on sale there. Woman's apparel hadn't held much interest for her over the past few years and walking into such garments put her teeth right on edge. Lace, satin and velvets abounded and she had to keep from snarling at the sales woman that came out of the back area wearing a bright smile full of dollar signs.

"Good afternoon Miss. Can I help you find something?" The woman called with a swishing of full skirts and a professionally pleasant tone of voice.

"I just be looking Miss." She replied curtly with her frosty gaze moving over the array of colors. A rainbow would have felt colorless in comparison and belatedly she drew the silk scarf down from her pale features.

"Well, perhaps you could tell me what you're needing something new for" Perhaps a ball or a day adventure?" The woman was tenacious and Fiona felt the calculating gaze moving over her, but wasn't sure why.

She nearly snapped at the woman to leave her in peace, but that would likely get her tossed out so she moved away, finding a spot to peer out towards that gambling hell but of course the lady followed. Likely noticing her gaze shift, even as Fiona tried to be casual about it she her smile faltered. "Only ladies of a certain persuasion are allowed in that place Miss."

"Took ye long enough DeAuster." To her credit the tone wasn't sharp or stinging as it could have been.

A glance to the bag she carried, and then a short nod from him as he held up a key in a gauntlet hand. "Had to wait in queue to get it. It is also a brothel with rooms available to lease for a night."

She had known that and just nodded slowly with a glance past him towards the bouncers. They were no longer paying attention to her or the Death Knight. "I nae think I will be allowed inside dressed as I am, but perhaps I shall use the shadows."

"There is a side entrance we can use. None the wiser, as this is obviously a place a great number of affairs appear to take place with no one talking. The clerk at the desk was willing share that information with me." There was a slight note of black humor in his words, as he didn't think he had the look of one willing to frolic with married woman.

"Then let us take this side entrance and have a look at the room. My Sentinels have lost our mark, but with a bit of time we can likely track him again." It was likely best that they saw two entering together. Apparently such a thing here was common enough that they would draw little attention in the least.

Few did pay them any attention as they entered via that side door. Fiona was mildly surprised it wasn't some seedy looking place but spoke more to the wealth likely collected from those gambling below. "This must of cost ye some coin."

"It wasn't cheap." He replied shortly while leading the way up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall. Pausing at one door he used the key and just pushed it open, letting her enter first.

A raven brow arched at the sight and was quickly followed by a smirk as it did indeed bear the stamp of opulent decadence. She dared not look to close at the various accessories the room offered. In the past, DeAuster would have been utterly appalled at the idea of some of the restraints, and that thought brought a dark smile to her pale features. "Nae your kind of establishment DeAuster."

"If you mean in the past' No, it would have not been a comfortable place." Even as he spoke Lucius settled his large frame down into one of the large wing backed, chairs, the plush cushion muffling the sound of his armor protesting.

"And now?" Dropping the bag down in front of the large four-poster bed that dominated the room. Her cloak followed, falling in folds at the foot and turned to regard him, hands moving to leather clad hips.

"I have seen worse. This is," A hand lifted and swept over the place sharply. "A fa"ade of what others use. My own dungeons hold some items like this but they are for pain and not for what many here obviously think."

"Indeed." Taking one of his usual pat replies, Fiona lifted her head catching the hint of whispers in the air and gave a faint smile. "Barban is here. Surrounded by an escort to be sure, but nae gambling but drinking for the moment. Drinking with his men I also add."

Such carelessness was a personal peeve of the Shadow Mage. She found over the years working for Brutin that some slavers had little regard for what true security means. From the use of less then legal substances to the over consumption of drink, they tended towards the excess. Often opening themselves up to attack and if their own bodyguards were also involved in those very behaviors, they usually ended up injured or dead. Fiona was always grateful that Lord Brutin had never been one of those. As if he had, it would have made her job far harder and his pocket even lighter then it already for her healthy salary.

"If he follows his usual pattern of action, he will eventually find a woman to sate other needs." DeAuster replied blandly with gauntlets moving to rest on his knees.

Behind that scarf of his, Fiona was fairly sure the Death Knight was smirking. She would almost swear she felt a certain sense of satisfaction from him at the idea of capturing the slaver in such a situation as well. "Aye, I think ye right. We may be able to yank him out of here if that is the case. That is if the pig actually gets a room."

Even in early afternoon, the Hades Haven was bustling with activity, the raucous laughter from the stage area giving a backdrop to the quieter gambling tables toward the back. Men and more than one woman of varying stripes mingled, many talking to the ladies working the floor, plying potential customers with compliments, drink and drugs for the more base tastes. Everything that Lucius would once, long ago, have avoided.

How fitting, to have fallen so far. The thought, unbidden, but fitting for the moment. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, slowly looking around the dim common room of the commons. He was forced to step aside as a couple started up the stairs, the man groping drunkenly at his chosen companion of the hour. Muted eyes followed them for a second, before he turned his attention back to the room, and made his way over to the bar.

"I want a bottle of your best red wine and clean glasses taken to room 204." Gleaming coins were set before the bartender as he ambled over, but Lucius kept a hand over the gold as he continued. "Tell your girl to be quiet about it. My lady is resting for this evening, and it would not do for her to be overly disturbed."

"Aye, and I have just the girl for it too." And as the hand was moved away gold disappeared from view, the bartender calling for one of the scantily-dressed serving girls. Lucius looked around the place slowly, looking for the slaver and his retinue, but found his watch disturbed by the bartender again. "And would you be wantin" a drink?" The question nearly had him laughing outright, and a soft chuckle could not be overcome. Nodding slowly, Lucius ordered a drink, which remained undisturbed as he went back to his watching of the room.

Familiar laughter caught his attention drawing his hooded gaze toward a table in the back corner of the room. There was Barban, as Fiona had said, drinking with his guards as they enjoyed a private dance. His eyes narrowed, and it took all of his willpower not to charge the table right then and there, and Brutin's decree be damned. No, not yet, you fool! From his vantage point he could see the table well enough, without untoward risk of being spotted in return. And even at this distance, I'm just another sell-sword, enjoying the show.

Watching the serving girls and dances come and go at the table, he soon picked up on one the slaver seemed to favor, a dark-haired dancer of some beauty and more ample assets. Again he would call for her to dance for him, spending gold as though it was a free-flowing fountain. Both, items of note. Yet, as the minutes moved forward in the observation of Barban and his men, Lucius's attention was drawn to a closer table, and one of the card games in progress.

Watching the next couple of hands of the high-stakes game, it became clear that two were professional gamblers, working together against the other two. The third, a young man no older than twenty-one and fresh on his first pouch of wages, was holding his own, with luck and a good draw. The forth, an older gentleman whose coat had seen better days, was the current target of the two gamblers, circling as a shark does wounded prey as gold was thrown into another trapped hand.

"Well, looks like Lady Luck just isn't with you this day." Drawing in the pile of coins and trade bars from the center of the table, the first gambler looked over to the older man, and then noticeably glanced down at the empty table in front of him. Following his gaze, the forth man nodded slowly, sighing in defeat.

"Nay, and ye took my last, so I be guessing it's time to leave.? He slowly started to come to his feet, but stopped at the sight of a small scrap of paper in the second gamblers hand, the weather-worn visage paling. Cutting a sly glance to his partner, the second gambler tossed the scrap into the center of the table.

The young woman had come and gone quietly and without much disruption. What she found was just one woman, laying a few things out on the bed. Nothing easily identified of course, but looked normal enough. Bits of lace and velvet, a common enough sight in most rooms around here the Shadow Mage was sure.

Once Fiona was alone again, she helped herself to a glass of the rich red wine they had brought, relieved to find it was a decent vintage and just took a seat near the fire. The warmth welcomed while keeping watch, on those below via reports of her various shades. Lucius's own activities were also note and brought a faint twisting of rose pale lips. Dark as he was these days, he still couldn't resist the need to aid others. Of course there was also the potential the man would regret that assistance at a later date.

It was something to consider of course. Fiona couldn't quite pin it down or place a finger on it, but something was changing inside Lucius. His emotions were shifting and not what she had first become accustom to. While the rage was still readily detected, other sentiments were springing up in varying degrees. Recently she had caught the sense of regret, a somber almost sad mood radiating but quickly snuffed out as if the flame of candle caught in the wind. Those flashes of humor coming at unexpected times along with a sort of hunger she personally couldn't define.

For her it was a frustrating puzzle she couldn't put together. It didn't fit what she knew about all that Lucius had become. Death Knights shouldn't feel anything but rage and blood lust. He was dead, or undead. Which ever it was, both didn't usually allow for emotional flares in such contradictory levels.

She quickly put those thoughts aside when he returned to the room. Frosty green eyes shifting over towards him the moment he appeared while she rose to her feet. Gliding towards the bed, she started to carefully fold each item and return it to the bag they had arrived in. She would save this for another time. "Find anything of interest DeAuster?"

Fiona's dark head turning for a moment and then a smirk touching her pale features, as first one mental whisper touched her thoughts and quickly followed by an array of others. "Perhaps ye should have waited just a few more moments, as our prey is moving. Looks like he has selected his toy for the evening."

Shadows sending in reports as progress was followed in evident details and Fiona reached for her gloves on the bed cover, drawing them on to her long fingers with another frosty turn of green eyes towards Lucius. "So what do ye suggest we do for this capture DeAuster?" She was being kind enough to seek his input after all and a dark brow rose faintly with a lopsided little smile touching rose pale lips as she waited for his response.

A tickling of cold that brought tight nubs to hard arousal and doused the male ardor washed over the two, the only warning as ice-cold fingers closed around Barban's neck and yanked him backwards to crash into the wall in a heap. Sitting up in shock, Ruby caught sight of a tall form stalking toward Barban, a grey cloak billowing behind like demented wings. Nature finally overrode surprise, voice found volume, and snatching at the sheet she started to scream.

The cries of the woman not even registering, Barban shook his head to try to clear away the fog from hitting his head on the floor. He had barely looked up when a shadow fell over him, and he found himself hauled up against the wall, held in place by the steely grasp around his throat, his wide eyes locked with the flared orange-red of Lucius's. "Never expected to see me again, did you?" the deathknight growled, his fingers slowly tightening to cut off the slaver's breath.

Barban would have spit defiantly, or perhaps yelled for his guard, but all that escaped was a croaking sound, akin to a chicken being slain for the fryer. "You thought to kill me, and let the river wash me away?" Lucius's teeth were bared under the concealing scarf, the anger at this enemy, and at himself for being nearly destroyed overtaking all reason. He could snap Barban's neck easily, but no, this one would suffer, his bones laid on the Bone Altar...

Skulls for the Skull Throne...

Ruby, her scream cut off in having to take a breath, saw a flicker of motion next to her, but her mind couldn't comprehend the fact that the figure now standing next to her had seemed to simply step out of the wall. Another scream of terror built, but had barely been given birth when the new intruder spun about, and Ruby's world went black, her last fleeting image of steel slashing toward her head.

Turning back from the bed and the unconscious woman, and ignoring the disappointed babbling of Garith, the imp unhappy that she had only hit the girl with the pommel of the dagger, Fiona shook her head at the bluish tinge Barban's face was taking. "DeAuster, we need him alive." An exasperated sigh escaped her when Lucius did not move, and the shadow-assassin stepped over and grabbed his arm, forcibly pulling it down and letting Barban drop to the floor. Ignoring the coldness under her glove, she kept pressure on Lucius's wrist until he turned his attention to her. "Alive, ye stone-minded dolt!" Lucius growled softly, and aimed a kick that Barban would be feeling for some time before he stepped back. With another glare at her companion, Fiona grabbed the collar of Barban's tunic and stepped through the shadows, dragging their prisoner with her easily.

Lucius paused for a second, hearing the heavy thud of men running down the hall, undoubtedly alerted by the girl's screaming, and allowed a feral smile to come, hidden by the scarf as he also stepped into the Weave.

——-

Outside the city, Fiona and Lucius bound their captive, and the lithe half-elf knelt down to look him in the eye. "Alright, here's how thing's be. If ye give me any trouble?" She leaned close, enough that her breath barely washed over Barban's cheek, her voice sugary sweet. ?"and I mean ANY, ye'll be wearing your testicles around your neck as a necklace. Ye kin me?" When he didn't answer she drew Garith with a sharp gesture, the point of the dagger tracing a line from collarbone to the bottom of Barban's ribcage, bringing up a small red welt. "Perhaps a bit of a demonstration be in order?"

"I hear you, I hear you!" Barban shouted, looking at Fiona as though she was some demonic creature from his personal hell. She just smiled sweetly and straightened, looking over to Lucius. An odd sound, and it took a second for her to register what it was. "Something be funny to ye, DeAuster?"

"Nay, just realizing that you have indeed earned your reputation among the men." He said quietly, stepping up to grab Barban by his binding and hoist the imprisoned slaver to his feet. He had meant it as a barb for the earlier jab by Fiona, but was taken aback as her whiskey-soft laughter filled the small glen they had shadow-walked to.

"Ah, that. Aye, I be known as the Ice Bitch to some. It's a title I find amusing, actually." Lucius started to turn to retort, but instead met a hard boot that had arched into his cheek, sending both man and deathknight tumbling. For a moment he was in total shock, and in that time he lay sprawled on the ground Fiona knelt beside him, her voice pitched for his ears alone and carrying a steely edge. "Nae ever think again that I used my body in any way in my work, DeAuster. I nae"NAE ever lowered myself tae that either before or after we knew one another."

Rising back to her feet, she gave Lucius a smile just as angelic as the one graced to Barban she turned and faded into the shadows. "Don't tarry now, DeAuster. We nay wish to keep Brutin waiting." Her soft giggles echoed in the trees as Lucius stood up, snarling as he hefted Barban in front of him and faded into the embrace of shadows.

Lord Malurick was skilled. Of that she had little doubt as his first attacked sent her diving swiftly out of range of that Holy cursed sword he wielded. The radiance it emitted nearly blinding her as it surged higher every time it came close.

It was a dance for her, keeping herself out of the reach of that deadly enchanted blade. Fiona's own attacks seeming weaker somehow. It was if it was drawing her energy away with every vicious blow or sliding step taken. The score was ever changing, with her taking the lead with first blood, only to drop back with a hiss as leather parted under that Paladin's stroke like a hot knife sliding through butter. The gash deep upon her stomach and she staggered back, the searing pain stealing her breath a moment.

Her weakened state gave little aid to the healers, as their attempts proved less then effective. Field dressing barely stanching the blood and quickly the red seeped through the layers as she returned for the second half. Down only a few points, Fiona unleashed the shadows with a soft whispered word. The command lost to the sudden wind as the light was suddenly mottled with a swirling of black forms.

Malurick struggled under the unexpected assault. Razor sharp claws tore at him, sending that sanctified sword flying from his gauntlet. He was nearly overwhelmed. However, aware Fiona was the source he lunged for her, sending her down hard into the dust and rock strewn earth.

Blood sprayed from his nose, as her dark head rocked up sending a blinding impact right into it and then scrambled away with far less grace then was normal. Fiona's skull was pounding in agony at the touch, and could only hope his was just as bad now.

She hadn't gotten far before he took her down with a roaring of fury. The heavy weight of him pressing down and smothering sent her into a frenzy of attack. The leather was pealed back from her hands, claws ripping from the gloved protection as she lashed out, black talons leaving their mark upon his hard features, just barely missing gouging out one of his blue eyes.

The shock of that sudden strike caught him so unaware and while Malurick fought to clear his sight of the flow of vita, Fiona was able to mule kick him away and again found her feet. Her energy was fading swiftly now, what little that she had and as she was thrown back by a bludgeoning fist that would leave her with another black eye, the dagger was sent screaming from her nearly numb fingers, Garith impaling himself deep into the Paladin with a bloodthirsty shriek.

The warrior tottered back, the stand off in place and for a moment he attempted to free himself from the blade that sought to draw out his very life energy. So close to the final, Fiona just unleashed slicing shadow bands towards him, but they failed to connect as a bright pietistic blinding light exploded around her, sending her body flying backwards into the arena wall, striking it so hard, bricks fell about her in a cloud of dust and debris as she landed in a heap.

She had lost. It had been close of course, but she would find little rest this night. Any time spent for one of her kind in that lighty dungeon would likely require twice that number to recover from. Fiona knew only to well what those so-called holy faces hid after all. It was far more twisted then some of the denizens of hell could claim as their own form of personal tortures.

"I will seek a trade Fiona. We have far more of theirs then they hold of ours." Anath told her quietly as Malurick's compatriots clamped on the irons about her wrists, having twisted her arms harshly behind her.

"Inform Lord Brutin I will be absent a few days will ye Anath?" A wry smile from a split lip, her pale features swelling with one eye already closed and blackening, but that didn't stop Fiona from flicking a frosty gaze to one of her captors with her good one, finding the touch of a hand invasive.

"Aye, I will." There was genuine concern in the dark blue gaze as he watched her get dragged off. Aware of what she would face and it drew a scowl upon his tanned face.

A glower shot towards the smug guild leader looking his way and Anath stalked over. "Anything happens to her, and you will pay for it, Celidon. Mark my words. Rules of war apply to you same as me. Keep your brutes away from her or else I will gut your guild since I have most of them in my own dungeon anyway."

"Unlike you Anath, we are of the Light. We wouldn't do anything to your people that was unscrupulous." Celidon replied sharply.

"Willing to trade?" Anath was quick to counter. "I will release three of your members for each of mine you currently hold."

"I will not take that deal. The one we just took was responsible for several of ours you're holding now. I would have an uprising in my ranks if I released her." Celidon returned with a snap.

"Yeah right. Heed my words. I will send a representative tomorrow to ensure that none of my members are suffering any kind of torture. And each day after until this war is done." Anath growled and stalked off already planning a dungeon break. "Good thing it's close to a near washout for you already."

Anathesius glanced up from his desk at the commotion outside, but immediately dismissed it, intent on letting his guards handle whatever was going on. A few of his commanders lay sprawled on the sofa's lining the walls, a couple wearing a bandage or two from their recent fights, but most simply tired. Given the time of night Anathesius should have been in bed also, but the work of a guild leader never seemed to slack up.

Again came a soft thud from outside, accompanied by the muffled voices of the guards. Looking up from his paperwork in disgust, the leader of Retribution and Vengeance glanced toward one of the sofas. "Karl, would you please see what?s going on out there" And if it's another of Corazon's flunkies, tell "em I'll see them at a sane hour." The quip earned a few soft snickers, as the brute Karl got to his feet and headed for the door.

His hand had just touched the doorknob when the entire door caved in, sending the commander, planks and one of the guards sprawling across the floor. Anathesius blinked in surprise, as did the other commanders, but the group sprang to their feet in near-unison as an armored and cloaked figure stepped through the shattered portal, crimson eyes blazing over the enshrouding scarf as it glared at the guild leader.

Anathesius didn't have time to respond, as the other's leapt to take down the intruder. For one wearing full plate their target moved quickly, shifting back as the nearest reached him and grabbing an arm, using the man's own momentum to spin around and throw him back at the others, sending everyone crashing into the floor or sofa. Over the shout and curses a cold voice rose. "This concerns Fiona Dewil."

"Everyone, hold up!" Yelling to be heard, Anathesuis's voice cut through and silenced the din, and as the others regained their feet he stepped around his desk, to stop a few feet from the one who had just burst through his door. "You're that one she had watching her a few months back."

"Indeed. Lucius DeAuster. And you are Anathesius, leader of Retribution and Venegeance, two charter members of the RhyDin War Council." The sepulchural tone matched the aura of cold washing around the deathknight, though there was also an almost-palpable heat flowing from him. "What has happened to Fiona?"

"And what makes you think anything has happened to her?" Anathesius affected a smile, seeming at ease, though he was wondering where the rest of his people were. Probably off celebrating the latest win, he thought sourly to himself. He had some heavy hitters in his ranks, even a few supernaturals, but right now they were useless, being elsewhere.

"I've known Fiona for a long time, and I know it would take something drastic to keep her from any duties to her chosen lord." He took a step closer, and the sound of steel hissing from leather scabbards filled the office, the members of Retribution ready to attack again. Lucius made no indication he even noticed, keeping his eyes on the guild leaders. "So I ask again, what has happened to Fiona?"

"She was unable to overcome her last opponent, and has been taken prisoner." Anathesius replied evenly, seeing no reason to hide the information. "Her captors refuse to release her." Lucius silently cursed both the ones that had Fiona, and the way war had become in RhyDin. He could understand the ways, differing groups fighting for land and honor in both battle and gladiatorial style combat, but the strictures of the system could be grating, from what little he had seen in his travels.

"Who has her?" Lucius demanded with a soft growl, but he resisted the urge to grab up Anathesius and shake him until he gave up the information Lucius needed. Not only did he have four well-armed and experienced men behind him, but a guild full of warriors and assassins at his beck and call. Besides, Fiona would surely disapprove.

"What does it matter to you?" Head cocking to the side in question, Anathesius studied the deathknight as he continued. "This is our problem, not yours." Waving a hand to his men to stand down, he moved back around the desk, ignoring them as they moved to collect Karl and the guard from where they lay senseless. "Putting aside the fact that Fiona seems less than endeared to having your help, the people who have her will not answer to anyone, unless they are a commander or leader of the guilds."

There was a moment's pause, before Lucius reached for a pouch at his belt and withdrew a small object, which was tossed on the table in front of Anathesius. Picking it up, he rubbed a bit at the tarnish, but could make out the bas-relief of dragons encircling a blazing sun, a sword fronting the sunrise. "This looks like one of the UDoL's emblems." He blinked once, and looked up toward the deathknight. "They disbanded over fifty years ago, with the collapse of the Council of RhyDin."

"Indeed." There was a hint of satisfaction in the other's tone, as he stepped up to the desk, thumbs hooking in his swordbelt. "In their heyday, during the Dragon Wars, I was the Talon Commander for the Swords of Light brigade."

Frowning slightly, Anathesius tapped the steel emblem against the desktop. "I can check on that easily enough, as a couple of the old members still live and are active. But what does this get you?"

"I presume that the old rank would be honored, since the last remnants of the old council was absorbed by your own war council. If so, I would then be a commander in your guild, able to help free Fiona." With that said, Lucius waited, letting the guild leader think about the possibility. Finally, Anathesius slipped the emblem into a pocket of his robe and rose.

"I will have to check into your story, and then see what I can do. I would ask?" he hurriedly added, glancing over to Lucius again. ?"that you refrain from doing anything until I contact you again. This is going to take careful negotiation, and any actions on your part could turn the people we're going to need against you." Not even a pause, as Lucius nodded slowly to Anathesius in reply.

"As you wish."

Bureaucracy. It never failed to irritate him. It was part of the reason why he had helped dissolve the Council of RhyDin decades before. And it was threatening to again drive him into a rage.

He had agreed to give Anathesius time to go before the War Council and press his call. Though it was easy enough to sense he harbored misgivings, the man had already started drafting letters to his allies on the subject. "Go back to your slaver compound for now. I'll send word to you when I know something." It grated on Lucius's nerves to have to wait, but short of trying to assault the holdings of the one's holding Fiona himself, an act that would undoubtedly result in much carnage and destruction before he was put down, he was stuck.

Returning to the SA compound, Lucius stalked back to his office, sending the slaves scurrying out of his way as he passed. It wasn't that unusual, but the cold aura emanating from his undead body was even more oppressive than normal, a barometer of the anger inside. Had he stopped for a second, he would have marveled at the emotional response, but that moment of clarity was not to be had. Instead he allowed himself to skirt the red edge, relishing the deep burning, even as his mind went over a hundred things that could be happening to Fiona, and each of those thoughts took him deeper into the fuming.

Why, why do you care" The soft voice, silky smooth and laden with lustful promise, echoed in his thoughts as he turned down the hallway to his office. What is the elf-woman to you? A dead man, no libido to stroke, no manly drives to satiate" Why risk what you know and have" As he reached to turn the knob to the door he paused, staring at and not seeing the door before him, and softly, the low timbre holding an edge that could not be identified.

"Because I love her."

No other thought could have stopped the deathknight cold in his tracks, no other admission could shake him to the core as it did then. Slowly turning from the doorway, he crossed the small hallway and looked out over the inner courtyard of the SA compound. His thoughts, though, had turned inward"

"the soft sounds of waves crashing on the shore filtered through the half-open doorway leading to the balcony, a melodic companion of the moonlight streaming into the room. That luminous fall almost made Fiona glow as she slept curled up beside him, head resting on one outstretched arm, his other laying over a shapely hip only half-covered by the satin sheets. The nights were temperate this time of year in Tignus, one reason they had decided to meet here. The fact that the church had a insignificant presence in the island nation was another. For the week and half they had together, they could be so without fear of hiding.

Now, laying here beside her, he could let his thoughts roam in that foggy twilight of near-sleep, the time when a person would be most honest with themselves. Leaning down, he brushed a kiss to her forehead, his hand shifting to brush back a fall of raven hair, before returning to it's resting place under her bosom. And laying there, watching her sleep, he whispered the words he knew not if he should say aloud, when she was awake. "I love you, Fiona."

Giggling from the courtyard, two of Brutin's kajirae walking amongst the flowering bushes, brought him out of his reverie. Turning back toward the doorway, Lucius yanked open the door and disappeared within.

"The council has agreed to your admittance, and will recognize your old rank." Anathesius couldn't stop the smile that was slowly blooming at the memory of the council meeting finished just hours before, and the guildleader looked over to Lucius as they were being escorted toward the gates of the stockade where the Retribution and Vengeance prisoners were being held. "There was an argument over that, but one of the Templars remembered you. Silver Puma?"

"I remember her." The undead knight replied tonelessly, staring up at the walls of the stockade as they were ushered past the gates. Anathesius nodded slowly before continuing.

"Aye. The final decision held, but you are unable to fight in this war." Again Lucius was struck by the way things had developed in this realm, so unlike that which he was used to at home. But, such was the way of RhyDin. "The Templars did agree to you being the observer to check on the prisoners." He snickered softly as they stopped at the doors leading into the stockade. "Malurik wasn't too happy about it though."

"Good." Lucius nodded to the guild leader then turned back to the now-opening doors. "I will report to you when I know the condition of your people."

"Just don't go trying to break them out!" Anathesius called after him. It was a half-hearted attempt at humor, but he did worry that the undead would try something like that.

*****

There had been some argument as he entered the stockade about his weapon, but in the end Lucius had turned Deathlight over to the guards, after making it known that if the weapon turned up missing, he would tear the place down around their heads. The cold tone apparently had the desired outcome, for neither of the guards was keen to pick up the unholy avenger from where he set it on the tabletop. Lucius waited for the guards to lower the holy wards of the cells, and was silently thankful, as the aura of the strong enchantments on the place was setting him on edge, repelling him with powers he had once possessed. Ironic"

He was led deep into the place, his escort finally pausing in front of a well-warded door. Lucius again had to hold back until the sigils were muffled, and even then it took all his willpower to move past the open door into the small cell. The sight of Fiona chained to the wall, the fading aura of holy protections on the manacles easily visible to his sight, nearly had him spinning in a rage on the guard. "Get out." The words were soft, said through masked teeth.

"Not a chance." The guard replied, his hand moving to his swordhilt. "No way am I leaving you alone in here with her." Slowly Lucius turned to look at the guard, his eyes blazing a brilliant crimson over the enshrouding scarf.

"Leave now, or I will kill you where you stand." The guard made to stand his ground, but his companion, who had just entered, grabbed him by the shoulder.

"C"mon, Larson. Besides, it's not like he can get her out." A last glare between living and undead, and the guards retreated, closing the door behind them. Lucius was immediately to Fiona's side, a hand at her torso to help steady the shadow-assassin where she slumped in her bonds.

"Fiona?" He whispered softly, looking to see if he could release her from the restricting manacles. Finding no visible or easy release, he growled softly to himself. "I'm here. Hold in?" He quickly pulled off one of his heavy gauntlets, revealing the pallid flesh beneath, the fingers flexing at the unusual sensation of being uncovered. Reaching into his belt, he took the dagger hidden there in his hand, the chattering immediately starting again in his mind as his fingers closed around its hilt. Ignoring that, he reached up and took one of her hands in his, his cold fingers entwining with hers, the dagger held between their palms as he willed the life-force he carried to flow from him to her.

"You have been here a little over three days, Fiona." He said softly as cold flesh met cold flesh. The anger at her condition was threatening to send him into a rage, and right now Lucius was fighting to keep that in check. Had he time to ponder, again he would wonder at the emotional response. "I was sent to check on you?" The glowing eyes moved to gaze at the chains holding her, the wards muted, but still very much active.

Growling softly, he reached up and clasped a small medallion he had been given by Anathesius, concentrating on the guild-leader's image in his mind. I am taking her away from here.

Like hell! You're not empowered to do that! The noble-born's mental tone was both shocked and somewhat resigned, as though Anathesius had been expecting this. Remember what I told you!

If she stays, Fiona may well die. Opening his eyes, he allowed the image of Fiona to seep into that mental connection forged by the medallion. They are using her to vent their anger at losing to you in this little "war", and without healing, she will not survive.

Alright, alright! Just hang on! The link quieted, and Lucius returned his full attention to Fiona, willing more of the energies that sustained his existence to flow to her. The bloody torso worried him a great deal, especially given the time and rough treatment she had been subjected to. And that led to the yearning of getting this "Lord" Malurick in his grasp, tearing the man limb from limb in front of his people in a fury of savage retribution. Fingers tightened where they joined with hers, and garith, sensing the flaring of emotion, latched onto it and let it flow to Fiona with a chittering of agreement. Help's on the way. Be ready to move.

"I'm getting you out of here, Fiona." Lucius said softly as he leaned close, supporting her slight weight against him as he looked to the chains again, following them upward to the hook inset to the wall. Keeping her hand in his, he reached up with his free arm, grasping the chains where they neared one another, and pulled. He ignored the faint wisps of smoke coming from his clenched hand, where the holy wards on the chains reacted and attacked the very essence of his undeath, and used the pain as a focus. Metal creaked under the pull, supernatural strength applied against holy focus, and in the end the hook gave, bending with a squeal of rent metal and allowing the chain to come free.

As Fiona slumped forward he leaned to catch her, bending down to sweep her up into his arms. "It's time to go." He said simply, turning with her toward the door of the cell.

"You really made a mess of things." Anathesius glared at Lucius from behind his desk, waving a clutch of vellum parchment in his fist at the deathknight. For his part Lucius remained silent, letting the guildmaster vent his rage, which he had been doing for the past twenty minutes. "Now, the whole damned council's screaming for our collective heads, and Malurik's demanding blood and retribution."

"That bastard would have let her be killed, for the simple fact that his people cannot defeat your own on any type of battlefield." Lucius finally growled back, the preternatural aura that surrounded him flaring in his irritation. "I have reviewed the past skirmishes you have had with them, and these Templar's could not best a bunch of school-children, much less seasoned warriors." Slowly the deathknight turned his gaze around the gathering, the commanders, generals and Marshals that made up Retribution. "Even without allies, you have swept them from the field."

"And thanks to your bull-headedness, they may win in the courts." Anathesius slammed the sheath of papers back to his desk as he stood. "Right now, I'm damn close to giving you to Malurik, just to have an example to others who might try this crap!"

"Then do so."

Those three words stopped Anathesius's rant, and the nobleman stared in incredulity at Lucius. "If Malurik wants me so badly, then let's give him what he wants."

"He's demanding to settle the score in blood." Anathesius sat back down again, the wind momentarily stolen from his anger as he considered the possibilities. He looked back over to Lucius, who was steadfastly ignoring the whispers from those gathered to listen to the discussion. "Dulambor hinted to me in the last session that he wanted to get you in the Arena. Malurik wants a public execution."

"Then, he will have one." Orange-red eyes flared slightly as he spoke, and there was no mistaking the sound of anticipation in the deathknight's tone. "There's an old saying in my homeland, Anathesius. Cut the head from the serpent, and the body will wither."

"You saw Malurik's handiwork on Fio. Their losses notwithstanding, he's damn good, one of the best." The archmage growled softly, waving a hand toward the door, and the rest of the Retribution compound by rote. In one of the chambers beyond the shadow-assassin was being tended to by the best healers Anathesius and the guild could muster.

Keenly aware of what the Templar's may try in revenge of the breakout, he had ordered all his people to return and bolster the defenses of the compound. The Templar's, though, had also pulled back, as their leaders took their complaints to the War Council, the body that oversaw the governance of the collection of guilds under its authority. In theory, it was a stable system, but as with any political body, collusion and deal-making was the real balance of power.

"Malurik only became involved when she kept capturing their best fighters." Anathesius had continued, standing again to begin pacing behind his desk. Hands clasped behind his back, the guildleader finally paused at one corner, his head turning so he could look over to Lucius. "He has a nearly-perfect reputation in battle."

"You let me worry about that." The deathknight finally moved, giving a slow nod to the guildmaster. "In any case, you will come out the better in the end." Anathesius had to agree, coming to those conclusions before he had stood. Should Lucius lose, which was the likely ending, Malurik would have his pride assuaged, while Anathesius himself could claim that the rogue had been dealt with, per the will of the War Council. The shadow hovering over his people and their reputation would be lifted, and they cold get about the business they were best at: killing.

However, by some chance Lucius won, the loss would strike a mortal blow to the Templar's confidence. With their leader out of the way, albeit temporarily given the number of priests the Templar's employed, Anathesius could press the ad-hoc leadership of the guild to surrender, due to the losses already suffered and the lack of leadership. Retribution's coffers would swell, and the arch-mage's reputation and standing would soar.

Yes, it was a win-win. And that was the way Anathesius enjoyed it.

"Well, Malurik's people know how to whip a frenzy." Anathesius turned away from the small window to look over to where Lucius stood. The deathknight was running an oil-soaked rag along the edge of the unholy avenger, making Deathlight's blade gleam in the light. "It looks as though they managed to get most of their allies here."

"Just as you have done." Lucius rumbled softly in reply, tossing the rag aside and holding the longsword up to inspect along the blade. "It still surprises me how things have changed."

"You mean from the days of lining it up on a battlefield and tearing one another apart?" A soft snicker followed the words, as the mage walked over toward the fallen paladin. "Societal evolution, my friend. Armies still march and fight, the people still suffer, but here"we minimize the impact as much as possible, with the larger battles you crave being of the endgame."

"A class apart from the rest, waging shadow-wars for land, goods and people." Lucius shook his head slowly as he returned Deathlight to its scabbard before looking to the guild leader again. "It reminds me of the gladiatorial arenas of my homeland."

"Actually, that's not too far off the mark." Giving the plate spaulder a hard pat, the mage looked toward the door, then back to Lucius. "You ready for this?"

"Aye." Nodding in reply Lucius turned to stalk toward the door, Anathesius falling in step beside him as they headed down the hallway toward the entrance into the Coliseum.

*****

The noise of the crowd died down as Lucius and Malurik entered the Arena from opposing doors, moving the short distance to the center of the hard-packed circle. Templars and Retributer's lined the seats, and the occasional badge or colors denoted another of the guilds could be seen among the others. Anathesius was playing up the spectacle to the fullest, with his people parading in the prisoners taken in recent days and lining them in full view of their compatriots, the gleaming chains binding each easily enough seen. An angry muttering grew across the way, and hands strayed to weapons-hilts all around the arena.

As Lucius gazed around the spectator's seating he wondered briefly if Fiona was among them. Ever since breaking her from the Templar prison she had been tended to by the Retribution healers, recovering from the beatings she had received and the drains the wards had inflicted. He had not been allowed to see her, and even Brutin had been close-lipped about her current condition. Biting down the flash of temper the deathknight focused his attention to Bella Dulambor as the holder of the First Chair rose to her feet, dwarfed by the hulking form of her husband Maleketh behind.

At a held-up hand the crowd quieted, and her clear voice, magnified by a simple spell, echoed over those in attendance. "We are here to conclude the hostilities between The Knight's Templar and Retribution." After slowly looking around the arena her gaze moved downward, to the two combatants waiting. "As per agreement, no magic will be allowed, and no healers used. This will be simple, straightforward and decisive."

Steel hissed against metal clasps as both drew weapons simultaneously, and Bella spoke up quickly to keep the two from charging straightaway. "This will conclude when one of you is either dead or too incapacitated to continue. if that is the case, when I call for you to stop, that will signal the end of the fight. Is this clear?"

"Aye, clear enough." Malurik growled, while Lucius just nodded in reply. Bella sighed softly, looking from one to the other, before dropping her hand back to her side.

"You may begin.?

Fiona fought her way back from the heavy darkness. The weakness still invading her form like insidious fingers that prodded her with needling pricks of stinging pain and followed by the slow process of becoming aware of the myriad of aches that lingered in her bones. Indeed, the knights had taken some sort of perverse pleasure in using her as a punching bag. One might expect such actions from a dark aligned guild, but hardly a light one. Well, most in any case for Fiona had fully expected that and worse. Often, those laying claim to purity, honor and holy vows, were merely the flip side of a coin. They too were just as corrupted as those they fought, if not more so for they're masks were always hidden behind those proud, pious smiles.

Reason, rational calm was her salvation as pale, dull green eyes opened slowly. The room was dimly lit, only a single lantern on a side table lit, sending shadows dancing along the cool surface of pale walls, flickers of that oil fed flame. Fiona felt the fragility of her own body, and will. For deep within the beast was stirring. That hunger growing and straining at the mental bonds that held firm against its demands.

"Ah, your awake finally. Anath has been worried." The voice of Synnova rolled gentle against sensitive hearing and instantly Fiona's eyes shifted. Taking in the small, delicate woman who headed up the healers for Retribution. "Lord Brutin has also been badgering him about your recovery along with that Death Knight."

Rising, the woman's pale blue robes offered a soft hissing of sound as she glided over. Fiona was sitting up slowly by this point. Movements careful and slow, for the bruises were still healing deep within. "Did we win the war?" Her voice was rusty, rasped and raw from dehydration and lack of use.

"Not yet. Your Death Knight friend seeks to fight against Malurik this very night. The whole of war hinges upon who wins. A Death Match I hear without healers." Syn never cared for those sorts of battles. The lack of healers always meant more work afterwards and those feelings were evident in her tone.

Turning a moment later a large mug of water was offered to the Shadow Mage, and a quiet smile touched the elegant woman's face. "Anath has not let him see you while you have been recovering. More so after this match was set, as I think he is hoping it gives DeAuster an edge."

A frown drew upon Fiona's pale brow at that news and she gave a slow shake of her head. "Lucius is a formidable knight Syn. I nae think he has need of any "edge" of such a nature."

"He's a curious creature I must say. He also seems to hold you in rather high regard." The healer replied before stepping back, with dark eyes moving upon her patient in that intense and silent regard.

Little emotion showed upon Fiona's pale features. Just a light shrug before she drank down half the water in a near rush, her parched throat welcoming it's soothing touch. "We have known each other for many an age Syn. I respect his abilities and I believe he feels the same about my own talents."

"Well in another hour, we shall all see how skilled his or not. The match is to be held in the Arena and most of the roster is already preparing to attend." A stern look was turned towards Fiona for a moment. "You will need to take things easy for a few days still. Anath will call a break after this war is done. I suggest you rest before the next one comes. If DeAuster does win, we expect his allies and associates to start preparing for another after all. Such is the way of things these days."

"Aye. I nae think ye need worry about that." Pale green eyes regarded the raw ligature marks still encircling her wrists. Fiona wasn't surprised that the efforts to heal those hadn't taken. Holy damage tended to linger with her kind after all. Luckily she could cover that easily enough with her leathers and gloves. "I nae suppose my clothing is here?"

"Afraid not Fiona. The leathers you wore when they brought you here were ruined beyond repair. However, I did take the liberty of bringing up some from the armory. Not quite like those, but should work well enough for you to return home." A delicate hand waved towards the items resting in the seat of a chair. "We were not able to heal you completely I'm afraid but we did manage to take care of the worst of your injuries at least. Hence my suggestion to taking things slow for a few days."

The whispered flow of slippers across the gleaming wood floors followed. "Now I am off to prepare for this coming match. I shall also let Anath know you are awake and doing better."

"Thank ye for ye help Syn." A slow shifting and she swung her legs around to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling that fatigue still weighing heavily upon her limbs, but that wouldn't stop her from rising. Pushing the heavy fall of raven black hair out of her face, she drew in a slow breath, preparing to do just that.

"Your welcome Fiona." Another quick smile and the lady departed, plunging the unfamiliar room into an uncomfortable silence.

It was good that, for the moment, the roar of the crowd above faded with the press of stone and distance, as it allowed Lucius the presence to gather himself. The white-hot rage that had allowed him to stay in the fight and untimately defeat Malurik was beginning to fade, leaving behind the dull edge that always seemed to fill him when not in combat. The damage to his knee would take time to repair, even if there was no true pain.

These things and more were holding his thoughts when the soft words brought his attention back to the here and now. Soft-glowing eyes moved to take her in, and the noticeable emotion of relief tinged the fading fury, mingling with the satisfaction of vengeance. "Thank you." He said softly to her congratulatory statement, and held up the blade he carried in his right hand, as though to inspect it.

The aura of the blade wavered, as being used to kill one of the Light had weakened the enchantments placed upon it. It held enough of the energies to send small wafts of smoke from the heavy leather of the gauntlet, reaction to the unholy power that animated him. "Counting coup." He muttered softly at her question, before bringing the blade back down and away from her. "A trophy that will be hung in remembrance once it has been suitably"baptized." He couldn't quite keep the touch of smugness from his tone, as he found that idea highly amusing. "I will bequeath it to you, Fiona, as a gift.?

He looked on the cool features, the shadows cast by the torch dancing over fine-chiseled cheeks, and again felt the flare of'something'deep within, coiling like a slumbering serpent. From her, he felt the tight reign of control, and found himself unable to truly gauge her. His empty hand moved, straying upward without conscious thought to nearly brush her cheek, before he paused due to the distance she was keeping from the blade he carried, and realization of the very movement.

"My leg will recover, given time and tending by my"by the Acolytes that currently serve." Shifting slightly, he pulled the sword back behind him and under his cloak, setting his unnatural aura between her and the blade. With the deepening gloom his eyes blazed brighter, an easy indication of the emotions that lurked within. In turn, the unnatural chill that surrounded him was in flux, and Fiona drew the cloak a bit closer around her, shadows shifting against the flickering torchlight behind her. "And I will send Lord Brutin a message, informing him of my convalescence."

"He will appreciate that, I think." Fiona replied softly, watching the death knight with those piercing emerald eyes he had been drawn too time and again. "I am certain Anathesius recorded the duel to torment the Templar, so I will ask him to send Brutin an orb." The thought that the slaver would show it to his visitors and crow about having that one on his payroll did bring the hint of a smirk to peach-pale lips, though that in itself sent the echoes of ache through her battered system. To any that may have observed, her countenance maintained that cold mirth, betraying nothing.

"Indeed." Lucius replied softly, the soft material of the drawn hood shifting as he nodded to Fiona. He wanted to offer his support to her, to enfold her in his arms as before, during the stolen moments together, and that brought a thrill of surprise. Uncertain of the sudden change in himself, he studied Fiona again, and caught the micro-look flashing across her pale features, realizing that she had also picked up on the fluctuating emotions. "You should rest, Fiona. You are still recovering from being held prisoner by the Templar's" His rage crept up again, turning the last word into a veritable curse.

"Aye, and ye as well, DeAuster.? Taking a step back, the two looked at one another for an awkward minute, before in unison, turning and stepping into the waiting shadows, each seeking their mutual abodes, and trying to figure out the answers to the puzzle of the other, answers that were, as yet, elusive.