The night had been a dark and bitter one, and Sivvy had spent most of it lurking silently in the shadows of the forest south of the Phoenix Mountains. While it wasn't as cold at the base as it was up in the peaks, Sivvy could feel her metal-based magic's brittleness without even using it. Of all the conditions, the cold was her least favorite, though she'd make due. She always did, for the mission came first.
Initially, upon her arrival in Mountain Village, she'd met up with Amber, her contact. The young mage had been watching people in dark cloaks sneak in and out of the forest. It was a strange thing, since no one ventured into the cold wilderness willingly, and there was little to do out there other than hunt. These strangers weren't hunting, but she noticed some of Mountain Village's hunters had disappeared since the cloaked ones' arrival. Guilt gripped the poor girl. One of them was Amber's father, and perhaps if she'd alerted her village sooner, he wouldn't be missing. It was the village that had raised the money to add the entry to Dies Irae's Blacklist, but Amber insisted on taking point since she had the most information. Sivvy wasn't too fond of adolescents, since in her mind they were still children, and children were irrational, unpredictable, and often times...annoying. Surprisingly, Amber had a very level head on her shoulders. Maybe the slayer would learn a thing or two.
"It's this way," Amber muttered, clad in a thick fur coat from a black animal of some sort. It was a smart choice to keep her hidden in the darkness. They two moved swiftly and silently through the underbrush. Sivvy could tell by her footsteps and posture that she was being trained to hunt as well, which is probably how she knew so much about these dark mages without being caught. They were heading into the area downwind, just as if they were approaching animals that could scent them. And while Sivvy knew very little about these cloaked nuisances, for all she knew they could possibly sense them that way.
However, more likely they would sense her magical power before their smell would reach them, so she took care to keep that concealed. She would have told Amber to do the same, but unless Amber was already concealed hers, the girl possessed no magic. Since it was only a low number of Fioreans that possessed supernatural abilities, it shouldn't be surprising that she didn't, though, from Sivvy's perspective, most people she met seemed to have at least some magic. Then again, she was in a unique environment that drew those exclusively magical in some way, so her perception was understandably skewed.
Bunkering down in a low shelter Amber had constructed from sticks and leaves, their view was pretty clean into the camp at the center of the woods. Amber was using binoculars, but Sivvy didn't need those. With her enhanced sight, she could see everything clearly unaided. "They haven't returned yet," Amber whispered, surveying the numbers milling about a large bonfire at the center of their camp. There was a large, long building built at the south, likely their guildhall, though primitive. In attempts to stay under the radar, they'd attempted to stay as off the grid as possible. It was a smart move since other newer dark guilds liked to get flashy with their halls and deeds to gain notoriety, but the members of Dies Irae endeavored to find all those that planned evil, whether it was open or hidden. Sivvy nodded to the girl, shifting into a more comfortable watching position.
Luckily for Siv, Amber wasn't a talker. From her experiences, spending hours in a stake-out in silence was uncomfortable for most, so they'd try to fill the silence and time with idle small talk. Sivvy was abysmal at small talk, plus too much of it would either be a distraction or reveal them. But in this case, the two watched intently for the bulk of the guild to return to camp. By the time the sun started to cast a glow in the sky, the change in Amber's breathing alerted the pinkette that the girl had fallen asleep. Sivvy couldn't imagine sleeping during a mission, but perhaps it was a good thing. She could hear snapping twigs in the distance, and the guilty Amber could very well get in her way of what she'd be doing next. Also, she knew that such violent scenes would be disturbing for someone with a brain not yet fully formed.
Silently leaving the bunker, Sivvy watched from a more tactful position near the mouth of the camp where the returnees would surely be passing by. Sure enough, a large band of about ten came into view, smart enough to keep their voices low as they congratulated each other on another good night. Slung over their backs were sacks filled with coins and valuables from the sound of it, and behind them trudged fur-clad hunters from the village toting some dead animals. That explained the disappearances. The villagers held hostage were little more than slaves to keep them fed for free while the other members went out to commit crimes. Amber's father was probably among them.
The first logical step appeared to be separating the hostages from the dark mages. Slipping from her hiding place just as the guild member restraining the hunters passed, Sivvy materialized her sword and cleanly severed the rope that tugged them along. "Get out of here!" she barked urgently, and thankfully they dropped their kills and obeyed. If anyone could swiftly get themselves home safely, it was them. Of course, her action drew the immediate attention of their captors, costing her the element of surprise. She'd likely not need it.
If Amber's intel was to be trusted, then most of the guild's members were low-level mages with unremarkable magic. Super speed, the ever common elemental magics, basic requip, and one that could be taken over by a fairy. Honestly, she wasn't sure who was who, since before they could even enact a spell, she had already zipped through the crowd of ten and disabled them. These days she'd been shying away from her most efficient method of evil disposal, the ever-reliable beheading, in hopes of being a better example to her more...enthusiastic members. Instead, they may be simply mortally wounded or be missing their sword arm, but the crystal prisons that came up around their bodies would keep them from bleeding out or moving until she could come back for them.
The members already in the camp were more prepared, but still nothing she couldn't easily deal with. She tossed crystal explosives into the crude huts to run out any sleepers and rammed sharp spikes through the uninhabited ones, dismantling the camp as well as knocking out her enemies and immobilizing them. It seemed she'd wrapped this up in a matter of a couple minutes until she felt a strong rush of magical power from within the longhouse at the back.
He emerged with a violent burst, large shards of clear material that glowed purple tearing the meeting place into shreds and jutting high into the sky like magic skyscrapers. He stood at the base of them, the same material forming over his body like a knight's armor. More of the same formed a sword formed in his hand. "You dare challenge me!?" he roared, striding forward with angry confidence, and Sivvy notably sighed. If he knew how many dark mages uttered this same phrase, he wouldn't think it was as cool as he clearly thought it was. As usual, she'd give none of them the chance for hero-villain banter. It was a waste of time. All the monologues were the same. All that was left to do was decide if he'd be taken dead or alive.
The fight had been surprisingly challenging. He wasn't particularly skilled in fighting, but his magic was strong and carried him. All the strange purple glass was exceptionally sharp and inpenetrable by even her piercing attacks and vicious explosions. After she tested him for about forty-five minutes, which felt like an eternity to fight someone, she noticed he could only have so many constructs out at a time. With his armor and sword, he could only maintain about ten others, which he was using as walls to keep her at a distance and piercing shards to try and kill her. Once he hit that limit, they would all disappear except for what was on his person and there were a couple precious seconds when he could conjure no more. Fighting her window, she teleported into the air behind him, wielding a large, double-bladed ax. Executioner style, the blade swing down at the only area on his body that armor did not cover. His neck.
With that out of the way, she returned to Amber, who was now awake and in shock. She only caught her fight with the guild master, whom she'd never laid eyes on before. She apologized for the hole in her intel, but Sivvy waved it off. "Nevermind that," she said, a small smile appearing on her blood-spattered face. "Your father is waiting for you in town."
Exiting the Trophy Room back into the main hall, a short girl with pink hair appeared. She wasn't in her ornate uniform today, preferring the practicality of her black pantsuit for endeavors where she had to do a fair amount of recon before she could get to the meat of the Blacklist entry. It was a slender suit, tailored to her body precisely by the metal threads it was made of, all at her complete control. The slayer always made her own battle garments, since the ones she purchased were precious to her and were so fragile in comparison. Her hair was tied back in a high pony with bangs and whisps left free to frame her soft face. What wasn't soft was the look in her carmine eyes. They were sharp, those of someone who had just come out of an intense battle with a strong mage. Judging by the amount of blood splattered over her suit and visible skin, she'd come out victorious once again. If someone needed any more evidence of this, they could check her new trophy. It was a sword composed of some sort of clear, amethyst mineral that luminesced on its own and was harder and sharper than anything she'd encountered before. All of the magic the dark mage had used was constructed of the stuff. It was a shame he hadn't made it into a collar to protect his neck.
Sivvy paused for a beat in the Throne room, deciding what to do. Normally she'd report straight to Helga in the office to complete the job, but she too caught a whiff of beef and thyme. The Mess Hall was in the East Wing on the way to the offices, so stopping for some food wouldn't be wasting any time. She was positively famished after her strenuous battle, and no one in Dies Irae wanted a hungry Sivvy. She wasn't outright violent or anything, but the more she learned to access her emotions, the more irritation she started to show depending on how long it'd been since she'd eaten. The ambassador was a food consuming machine that definitely had the kitchen crew earning their paychecks. It was like a snake and a black hole had fused into a human girl and was a sight to behold. One would expect it to be messy and disgusting, but she basically inhaled her food at inhuman speed with likewise inhuman grace in inhuman quantities. Many members would deliberately stay behind at lunch and dinner just to witness it. Sivvy didn't notice, of course.
The issue was, in addition to the smell of dinner, she smelled someone unfamiliar in the hall. Her duties always came first and it seemed she had someone to greet. Stepping up to the much taller and paler man, she extended a hand after wiping it clean of blood. "Welcome. I'm Sivvy, Ambassador of Dies Irae. Are you just visiting or do you have business with us today?" she asked in a cool, stoic tone. A polite smile appeared on her mouth, and while she didn't seem icy, she wasn't exactly brimming with warmth either. She was just neutral. Professional. It definitely hid her intense curiosity concerning his eyes. Black scleras, like Johann and Mars and Artemis and Zaebros. Was there a connection? Did this guy have a demon of some sort, too?
[wc: 2104 || thread total: 2507]Last edited by Sivvy on 28th November 2020, 2:28 am; edited 1 time in total