TBD Vhalar 718
Mid Afternoon
Francis Higglebottom was dead. Maxine had stood before him where the Mantis had strapped him to a stake, dropped the torch upon the Absolution-soaked base, and listened to his shrieks are the white flames consumed him. Her stare never waved nor did her body cringe away from the heat of the blaze. She refused to miss a single trill of her hard-won vindication. It didn't last nearly so long as she'd wished the torturous execution had. For its relatively short duration she meditated balefully on the past. She relived every moment of the ritual in which he sported his coward Earth Mask. She heard Vega's screams in time with his, fire charring at living flesh then just as it did that trial. The earthen spear went through her foot. His shadow loomed in the corners of her most innocent memories, haunting her until she incited the riot intended to hunt him down. She felt the dark hopelessness of The Beneath eat away at her soul, suffocating to extinction the good traits within a person which could be mistaken for weakness in Slags Deep.
All of it came rushing back to wound her in a single blow. As she watched his wither and die within the flames, a wraith manipulating her every move no more, the past diminished just like the fire. The heat continued to melt the flesh of his hanging head, but as his life extinguished, so too did something within Maxine. There was no sensation of a job done. There was no joy or righteousness in witnessing his end. There was nothing at all. Emptied of the hatred and the vendetta obsession that got her this far, she was left now with a void. A vast vacuum where emotion and humanity should've emerged. It came in the wake of a single revelation. The Bogeyman she'd tirelessly battled was no menacing monster. He was just a man; a man who could be killed like any other. Her revenge had been a dead end. Francis was gone, but the anger still raged within her veins with the endlessness of a vast sea.
Joining the Mantis promised an outlet for that fury. Just as Rebekah had delivered the execution of her nemesis, something her own allies could never do, she offered purpose. To further prove her dedication to the faction's cause, it was imperative she joined in the hunting of another mage. The trial run was to be expected. The Mantis were a suspicious, careful organization. There was no better way to test loyalty than to ensure each member could be called upon to do what was necessary. To this end, the ex-convict waited patiently in Rebekah's large, organized office. She wasn't kept waiting long. Within a couple bits of being shown in, Rebekah shoved open the doors with a pair of Ashcloaks at her heels.
"Morning, gorgeous," Brett, a Mantis sword and irritating tryst, greeted Max as he passed her.
"Fraternize later," Rebekah snapped as she rounded her desk and took a seat in the tall chair behind it. "Detective Vernon, the floor is yours. Proceed." The armored Mantis Detective smoothed out his red mustache before stepping forward to address his audience. He eyed Maxine apprehensively before shifting his gaze to focus on the woman behind the desk.
He cleared his throat, "Very well." His black gloved hand retrieved a piece of parchment from his cloak, which he placed carefully before Rebekah. "About a mile east from here near the smithy, I followed up on a rumored mage hiding among us. A woman going by the name of Wendy. We had received numerous reports regarding a single incident at a local tavern. In the midst of a bar fight, one of the combatants pulled a dagger on the suspect without warning. Witnesses claim that the dagger was stopped before it struck the suspect, as if some sort of invisible barrier had protected her from the blade. One man, claiming to have been her lover at one time, admitted to me that he noticed a raised "A" on the small of her back. I believe this woman to be an Abrogation practitioner. She must be apprehended, tried, and purged."
"I agree," Rebekah nodded, eyeing the piece of parchment Detective Vernon had presented her. "Is this her last known residence? The Henny Inn?"
"Indeed."
"Very well. Brett and Maxine will handle taking her into our custody. Ensure they are given everything they need to properly locate and identify her."
"With all due respect, ma'am, are you certain this is wise?"
"Pardon?"
"I just mean, respectfully, that we can't be sure this is an undertaking this woman can handle. This is a powerful Abrogation mage by all accounts. It's of my humble opinion that this mission should be passed to another more capable."
Maxine raised her brow at first, then she outright laughed. Rebekah sat silently back in her chair as the ex-convict crossed the small space between herself and the detective. Vernon stiffened at her advance. His right hand clutched the hilt of his longsword. Maxine searched his eyes with a sinister smirk.
"Detective Vernon, is it?" she began indignantly. "How many mages have you hunted down and killed?"
"Many as a sword," he countered, straightened up and puffing his chest. "More as a Detective. Countless."
"No. How many have you taken down, is what I asked. You alone. Without an army. Go on. Tell me your body count." Vernon's lips parted several times before his mustache pressed them into a hard line. The ex-convict scoffed, "I figured as much." She walked away from him to rediscover Rebekah's glass whiskey bottle. She paused to pour herself a cup. "I have no doubt you heard what I did to Francis Higglebottom before your Ashcloaks arrived. You've heard rumors of what I'm capable of. What you don't know, any of you, is that I spent quite a bit of time in the Seventh Level of Slags Deep in Scalvoris. I was put there for my methods when hunting Francis. The Beneath was a special pit designed to hold mages and marked criminals. It had no light. We were provided no food or water. Every trial was a test of our will to survive the unsurvivable. There were no alliances. If you ran into another convict in the dark, you killed or were killed. It was that simple." She took a drink of her whiskey and turned back to face Rebekah, Vernon, and Brett. "I was down there since Ashan. I've killed so many mages with my bare hands that I lost count. Sometimes it stopped being about mere survival. Sometimes I wandered the dark looking for them, killing them to prove a point. that wouldn't matter to anyone on the surface. I'm not just the best mage hunter in this room. I'm the best Immortals damned one you've never heard of." Max slammed the rest of the whiskey and put it down upon the table. She pointed an accusing finger at Vernon's wide-eyed face. "So I don't give a shit what your rank is. Question my abilities again, and I'll show you a faction of what my enemies in the dark saw before I turned their bodies cold."
Rebekah, always the professional, smoothed over the admiring smirk to give Vernon her attention. She dipped a quill in an ink well and began to scrawl upon a fresh page neatly seated before her.
"Unless you have any further objections," the Ashcloak said as she scribbled a signature at the bottom of her short letter. "Let's not waste anymore trial light. Brief them and send them out. Max and Brett, I expect this to be done as cleanly as possible. Remember, you go with the authority of both The Mantis and The Crown. Wield that accordingly."
"Yes, ma'am," Vernon and Brett murmured in unison. Max turned on her heel and followed the pair of the room, leaving Rebekah to scour over his paperwork. Once the doors to her office were closed, Vernon got straight to business.
"Wendy isn't a hard woman to miss," he admitted with a shrug. "She's a stocky gal. Long black hair. Pale skin. Blue eyes. She has a misshapen birth mark on her cheek, but the real tell-tale will be the witchbrand on her lower back if it's there. Just get her here. We'll do the investigation and trial beyond that."
"Easy trial, sir," Brett affirmed.
"Aye. I kept my distance and paid off the witnesses I spoke to to take some holiday elsewhere. Keeps people from talking and getting her spooked. Last time I staked out the Inn, she was staying on the third floor. Room is the one all the way to the right once you're up the stairs. Best of luck."
With his tail between his legs, Detective Vernon hustled off to be rid of the mage hunters. Brett smirked at his retreat and beckoned Maxine down the hall toward the exit. She would've preferred a drink first, but the sooner the job was done the better. Then she could be onto the next. And the next.
Mid Afternoon
Francis Higglebottom was dead. Maxine had stood before him where the Mantis had strapped him to a stake, dropped the torch upon the Absolution-soaked base, and listened to his shrieks are the white flames consumed him. Her stare never waved nor did her body cringe away from the heat of the blaze. She refused to miss a single trill of her hard-won vindication. It didn't last nearly so long as she'd wished the torturous execution had. For its relatively short duration she meditated balefully on the past. She relived every moment of the ritual in which he sported his coward Earth Mask. She heard Vega's screams in time with his, fire charring at living flesh then just as it did that trial. The earthen spear went through her foot. His shadow loomed in the corners of her most innocent memories, haunting her until she incited the riot intended to hunt him down. She felt the dark hopelessness of The Beneath eat away at her soul, suffocating to extinction the good traits within a person which could be mistaken for weakness in Slags Deep.
All of it came rushing back to wound her in a single blow. As she watched his wither and die within the flames, a wraith manipulating her every move no more, the past diminished just like the fire. The heat continued to melt the flesh of his hanging head, but as his life extinguished, so too did something within Maxine. There was no sensation of a job done. There was no joy or righteousness in witnessing his end. There was nothing at all. Emptied of the hatred and the vendetta obsession that got her this far, she was left now with a void. A vast vacuum where emotion and humanity should've emerged. It came in the wake of a single revelation. The Bogeyman she'd tirelessly battled was no menacing monster. He was just a man; a man who could be killed like any other. Her revenge had been a dead end. Francis was gone, but the anger still raged within her veins with the endlessness of a vast sea.
Joining the Mantis promised an outlet for that fury. Just as Rebekah had delivered the execution of her nemesis, something her own allies could never do, she offered purpose. To further prove her dedication to the faction's cause, it was imperative she joined in the hunting of another mage. The trial run was to be expected. The Mantis were a suspicious, careful organization. There was no better way to test loyalty than to ensure each member could be called upon to do what was necessary. To this end, the ex-convict waited patiently in Rebekah's large, organized office. She wasn't kept waiting long. Within a couple bits of being shown in, Rebekah shoved open the doors with a pair of Ashcloaks at her heels.
"Morning, gorgeous," Brett, a Mantis sword and irritating tryst, greeted Max as he passed her.
"Fraternize later," Rebekah snapped as she rounded her desk and took a seat in the tall chair behind it. "Detective Vernon, the floor is yours. Proceed." The armored Mantis Detective smoothed out his red mustache before stepping forward to address his audience. He eyed Maxine apprehensively before shifting his gaze to focus on the woman behind the desk.
He cleared his throat, "Very well." His black gloved hand retrieved a piece of parchment from his cloak, which he placed carefully before Rebekah. "About a mile east from here near the smithy, I followed up on a rumored mage hiding among us. A woman going by the name of Wendy. We had received numerous reports regarding a single incident at a local tavern. In the midst of a bar fight, one of the combatants pulled a dagger on the suspect without warning. Witnesses claim that the dagger was stopped before it struck the suspect, as if some sort of invisible barrier had protected her from the blade. One man, claiming to have been her lover at one time, admitted to me that he noticed a raised "A" on the small of her back. I believe this woman to be an Abrogation practitioner. She must be apprehended, tried, and purged."
"I agree," Rebekah nodded, eyeing the piece of parchment Detective Vernon had presented her. "Is this her last known residence? The Henny Inn?"
"Indeed."
"Very well. Brett and Maxine will handle taking her into our custody. Ensure they are given everything they need to properly locate and identify her."
"With all due respect, ma'am, are you certain this is wise?"
"Pardon?"
"I just mean, respectfully, that we can't be sure this is an undertaking this woman can handle. This is a powerful Abrogation mage by all accounts. It's of my humble opinion that this mission should be passed to another more capable."
Maxine raised her brow at first, then she outright laughed. Rebekah sat silently back in her chair as the ex-convict crossed the small space between herself and the detective. Vernon stiffened at her advance. His right hand clutched the hilt of his longsword. Maxine searched his eyes with a sinister smirk.
"Detective Vernon, is it?" she began indignantly. "How many mages have you hunted down and killed?"
"Many as a sword," he countered, straightened up and puffing his chest. "More as a Detective. Countless."
"No. How many have you taken down, is what I asked. You alone. Without an army. Go on. Tell me your body count." Vernon's lips parted several times before his mustache pressed them into a hard line. The ex-convict scoffed, "I figured as much." She walked away from him to rediscover Rebekah's glass whiskey bottle. She paused to pour herself a cup. "I have no doubt you heard what I did to Francis Higglebottom before your Ashcloaks arrived. You've heard rumors of what I'm capable of. What you don't know, any of you, is that I spent quite a bit of time in the Seventh Level of Slags Deep in Scalvoris. I was put there for my methods when hunting Francis. The Beneath was a special pit designed to hold mages and marked criminals. It had no light. We were provided no food or water. Every trial was a test of our will to survive the unsurvivable. There were no alliances. If you ran into another convict in the dark, you killed or were killed. It was that simple." She took a drink of her whiskey and turned back to face Rebekah, Vernon, and Brett. "I was down there since Ashan. I've killed so many mages with my bare hands that I lost count. Sometimes it stopped being about mere survival. Sometimes I wandered the dark looking for them, killing them to prove a point. that wouldn't matter to anyone on the surface. I'm not just the best mage hunter in this room. I'm the best Immortals damned one you've never heard of." Max slammed the rest of the whiskey and put it down upon the table. She pointed an accusing finger at Vernon's wide-eyed face. "So I don't give a shit what your rank is. Question my abilities again, and I'll show you a faction of what my enemies in the dark saw before I turned their bodies cold."
Rebekah, always the professional, smoothed over the admiring smirk to give Vernon her attention. She dipped a quill in an ink well and began to scrawl upon a fresh page neatly seated before her.
"Unless you have any further objections," the Ashcloak said as she scribbled a signature at the bottom of her short letter. "Let's not waste anymore trial light. Brief them and send them out. Max and Brett, I expect this to be done as cleanly as possible. Remember, you go with the authority of both The Mantis and The Crown. Wield that accordingly."
"Yes, ma'am," Vernon and Brett murmured in unison. Max turned on her heel and followed the pair of the room, leaving Rebekah to scour over his paperwork. Once the doors to her office were closed, Vernon got straight to business.
"Wendy isn't a hard woman to miss," he admitted with a shrug. "She's a stocky gal. Long black hair. Pale skin. Blue eyes. She has a misshapen birth mark on her cheek, but the real tell-tale will be the witchbrand on her lower back if it's there. Just get her here. We'll do the investigation and trial beyond that."
"Easy trial, sir," Brett affirmed.
"Aye. I kept my distance and paid off the witnesses I spoke to to take some holiday elsewhere. Keeps people from talking and getting her spooked. Last time I staked out the Inn, she was staying on the third floor. Room is the one all the way to the right once you're up the stairs. Best of luck."
With his tail between his legs, Detective Vernon hustled off to be rid of the mage hunters. Brett smirked at his retreat and beckoned Maxine down the hall toward the exit. She would've preferred a drink first, but the sooner the job was done the better. Then she could be onto the next. And the next.
