“Absolutely not!”.
Kir and Damien now found themselves at the doorstep of a hidden apartment in the bowels of Bluelake. He contacted Lyra the night before about acquiring some help for his impromptu invasion of a criminal facility. However, upon arrival Mi drew her sword at the sight and apparent scent of Damien. It took some persuading but Lyra finally got her to sheathe the weapon before things deteriorated any further.
“Andrew and Eryssa are coming, I promise it won’t take long” Kir pleaded.
The two new soldiers had already joined Kir outside, both with a bone to pick and a point to prove. Mi was the last one who needed convincing.
“I will not abandon my position, I have lost her once before, I will not allow it again!” Mi crossed her arms, well arms didn’t do them justice, more like tree trunks.
All four of them were capable enough fighters, but Mi would be an unparalleled boon. Though at this point she was in a position of vehement refusal. It was understandable of course, but a ferocity in her demeanor and hesitance in her voice indicated a need for retribution. Eryssa and Kir pleaded a bit more, Eryssa’s unintentionally enchanted words bouncing off of her thick skull. But they only found success when Lyra chose to intervene.
“Mi, I promise I’ll be safe, no one knows about this place”
The two met eyes as Lyra took Mi’s head in her hand. This act caused the onlookers to awkwardly avert their eyes and whistle out of tune in unison.
“I can see it in your eyes, you need this, I’ll be waiting, I promise” Lyra smiled
Mi took a moment in thought, torn apart by two natures. It must have been something about Lyra’s confidence that made the decision for her.
“I will return soon”
The two leaned in, though the onlookers were unsure as to what happened due to their earnest attempt to be uninvolved.
“Best of luck to you, don’t die” Lyra turned to the group.
Mi stepped out and Lyra slammed the door shut.
As the lock latched an unimaginable number of wards and contingencies went into effect with a pale blue glow. The apartment itself was relatively unassuming, but apparently was more than meets the eye. Lyra wasn’t joking when she called it a safe house. It would take a small army to break in, Kir couldn’t help but be a little envious.
“So, lead the way demon-child”
A snicker came from Damien that was quickly silenced after a glare.
**
Over the course of the commute to Hallowvale Kir felt the need to explain the dangers to some of his less knowledgeable compatriots. They barely knew each other and really only joined along due to a newly acquired grudge, bound together through hatred. Information about the failed spell garnered some gasps from some of the more impressionable of the group, but failed to impress Mi or Damien. Following the explanation Eryssa spoke up innocently.
“Why don’t you guys get the Order involved?”
At once all four of them looked at her with a wave of incredulity so strong Eryssa almost physically stumbled backwards. The Werewolf, Vampire, rogue mage and criminal bodyguard had pretty pressing reasons to not involve the fuzz. But Eryssa seemed entirely confused. Kir took a deep breath and attempted to verbalise the previously unsaid.
“Besides the obvious reasons, any anonymous tip would be entirely ignored. Even if they believed us they wouldn’t dare operate in Hallowvale much less the no man's land. The Order exists in delicate balance with the criminal syndicates, any kind of heavy move like that would trigger a war that would bleed into the mundane world from the Violet Shade”.
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Three of the group were satisfied with the response, nodding in agreement, but Andrew shook his head as he looked at Kir.
“What?” He asked, uncomfortable at the lingering attention.
“Amber always tells me about how nice you are but…” he trailed off.
“Yeah there’s a lot I wish I could tell her” Kir stared silently to the ground, commanding an air of quiet.
The conversation paused there for a few minutes before it slowly started up again. Andrew started to ask Eryssa questions about En’Sirith, leading into pretty amiable chatter, entirely ignoring the potential concern for what could be a disastrous evening. It was pretty nice.
It was an overcast day. The agreeable weather of the day prior made way for the oppressive cloud cover that smothered the city in a dense fog. The wind did not blow, but instead meandered lazily across the empty streets. A city that was so often full of life seemed so quiet today. As if every citizen surreptitiously agreed to stay inside on such colourless days.
The trip there was entirely pleasant, the entrance into Hallowvale not so much. The weather of the mundane world had followed into the hidden one, marring the typically burnt orange sky. Damien was the one with the location so Kir passed over the guidance to him. A problem made itself clear the moment he walked in the exact wrong direction. Some quick corrections from Kir guided them back into the proper path.
“Look, all I know is that it's marked out by a blue flame with a floating leaf”.
“Hm, I expected your kind to be familiar with the area” Mi snorted after staying silent for the majority of the trip.
Damien and Kir looked at each other with a silent sharp inhalation before choosing to disregard the comment. Such a large group in no man’s land easily drew attention, especially with the motley crew that Kir had assembled. After some wandering they were able to find the hanging sign that Damien had indicated. They stopped out front, all looking at Kir, waiting on his word. Naturally he wanted to recede into his clothing until they stopped looking but he mustered up enough presence of mind to look to Mi.
“I’m happy with the same plan”
For the first time since the two had met, he saw Mi crack a smile, it was haunting.
“Let’s go,” She commanded, taking the lead.
With a swift kick the front door flew off its hinges. Much like Luther’s setup there was an adequately stocked false front, one that Mi immediately ignored and barged through the hallway down a set of stone steps. There were occasional snuffed sconces, leading Kir to cast a light spell to guide their way. The stairs were narrow, only large enough for one person at a time. Not a word was spoken, each individual seemed to jump at the slightest noise. As the stairs flattened out into a hallway Kir cast a mage armour on himself in preparation, a blue energy shimmering over his chest. Three minutes of walking later the hallway opened up into an enormous white room. It was lit entirely by light runes carved into the ceiling, they shone a harsh glare onto the equipment that dotted the floor.
Rows of tables lined up and down the factory, identical sets of complex alchemical equipment set up in a production line. Oddly shaped beakers, flasks and distillers distorted whatever stood on the opposite side, creating a funhouse of drug production.The assembly line seemed to have stopped abruptly as every element had been left in different stages of the production process. Beakers bubbled and overflowed on top of gas burners while raw ingredients were mid preparation. Almost as if everyone had just left in the middle of whatever they had been doing.
The attackers looked at each other confused as the most likely explanation dawned on them. A door on the far end of the room stood partially ajar, the group now breaking into a run. They piled into the room to find the sight that they were dreading.
While not expansive as the previous opening, this room was still adequately sized for its intention. Far into the room, an enormous magic circle had been carefully assembed on the the stone floor, incandescent purple crystals had been placed at six separate points on the outskirts of the formation. Pieces of arcano-tech were daisychained together in an attempt to craft this familiar assembly. In the centre of the matrix, cross legged and two feet off the ground, sat Sable Crowley. He muttered arcane gestures as an amorphous blob of scarlet blood struggled to escape from between his hands. Sitting on the floor around him were various material components necessary for the spell to occur. The preparation of the impending spell alone already began to emanate an overbearing pressure, almost shaking the foundations of the building.
A sprawl of figures stood between Kir and Sable. The men and women on either side, while present and imposing in their own right, were severely undercut by the individual in the centre. Still well groomed in a finely tailored suit, Duke stood with a previously unseen ferocity in his eyes. He wore a horrid burn mark covering the left side of his face, continuing downward unseen through his neck. The botched teleportation spell seemed to have taken a far more permanent effect on Duke. His eyes stood dead set on Kir, a very clear understanding of who he had to blame.
The other less incensed obstacles brandished weapons of different varieties, though the expertise in their demeanor displayed them as not to be trifled with. The facade of nobility was no longer present in Duke. Kir expected a barb or witty comment but that expectation quickly faded as he unceremoniously hucked a sickly green ball of energy at him. On instinct he went to react but Mi simply flashed her sword, dispersing the shot with ease. The moment the spell petered out, all hell broke loose.