[Jessari]

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, at least it was dark. The stormy part hadn't begun yet, although judging by the pregnant clouds that blotted out the stars, and the howling wind that pounded against everything with a near-physical force, it wouldn't be too long. It was going to be a long, miserable night.

Shard grimaced, tailblades whispering as they were flicked through the air in irritation. He hated rain, or precipitation of any kind for that matter. Although his skills would keep his mechanical tools working regardless, it couldn't combat rust. It was very difficult to keep something working if bits kept falling off. Besides, the smell of wet fur made him sneeze.

[Jessari]

The Khimera picked his way through the cathedral grounds, climbing over debris and skirting around enormous chunks of stone that used to be parts of pillars and walls. There was even a saintly statue or two, bodies badly chipped. He wondered idly what had happened here. What had caused this once-grand cathedral to fall? He was sure Professor Arklebit would be able to tell him. Professor Arklebit, his former boss, had a tendency to ramble on and on, always straying from the topic at hand and ending up proudly recounting an experience he'd had twenty years prior. It was the little oddities like these, the little irritations, that kept Shard from feeling guilty about 'borrowing' the incomplete device in the bag hanging around his neck.

[Jessari]

Finally Shard found his way through the maze of rubble to the place where the cathedral had once stood. A couple of pillars still stood in their original positions, along with partial walls that marked sketchy boundaries. Shard's tails twitched; if his information was correct, somewhere within the wreckage was an altar, and underneath that altar, he'd find the missing half to the borrowed device.

Walking just a little faster, Shard entered the ruins. He paced through the pillars guarding the entrance, then through what might have been the foyer. After that, he was lost. The cathedral had been truly large, and search as he might, there had been no map of the inside. He peered worriedly at the sky, begging the rain to hold of for another few hours.

[Flame]

(Syria, with her companion, Astraea (Lucain form pending), in human form)

Tonight was a perfect night for hunting. Velvet paws padded noiselessly against the sparsely covered dirt ground, the yellowing grasses yielding easily to her weight. Syria could smell the rain heavy on the wind, carried by the gale that raked across the land, kicking up small whirlwinds of loose dirt that wove back and forth in its wake. Even a deluge couldn’t bring any new life to this bleak landscape: it was simply too…dead. It was as if nature had given up on this once-holy place, and the shadows and dark spirits had as soon taken over and claimed it as their own. The Khimera flicked her tails; even she felt a little ill-at-ease here. She was used to going to all the places where no one else dared – it was her job, along with her mistress, but nonetheless, this run-down ruin of a cathedral seemed to exude an aura of foreboding.

She continued her patrol, pacing the perimeter of the grounds with a focused intent, unfathomable golden eyes fixed upon the crumbling fortress, her ears occasionally swiveling to catch the faintest of sounds above the howl of the wind. The sooner they could get the job here done, the better. She, for one, did not want to spend any longer in this forsaken place than she had to.

[Flame]

Nearby, a matching pair of golden eyes observed the entrance to the cathedral, or at least what was left of it, from a shadowy corner, thrown into darkness by a few feet of still feebly standing stone that was once part of a wall. She stood perfectly still, almost unnaturally still, an air of expectant concentration about her as she waited, apparently, for something to happen. She seemed quite certain of the fact that something would indeed take place, as she didn’t budge a muscle, even as the minutes dragged on. The wind brought a chill to her exposed skin, but it didn’t seem to bother her much, if at all.

Finally, her patience paid off: a lone figure materialized against the dark, stormy background of the falling night, padding purposefully towards the cathedral. A small, satisfied smile settled itself upon Astraea’s lips, knowing that the time spent tracking their mark to this exact time and location had not been wasted. Not that she’d thought it might have been in the first place, but nonetheless, it was always satisfying to watch a person walk unknowingly into a trap. It meant that she had done her job well. Now, it was just the small matter of capturing their quarry that was left to do. She was certain that the approaching individual was the one that she had her companion had been looking for – after all, who else would happen to be taking a leisurely stroll through these abandoned ruins at this time of night? She watched as the Khimera made his way into the run-down building, then cast her gaze about, searching once again. The man who’d hired them had seemed a little off his rocker, an old fellow with the tendency to go off on random tangents before finally returning to the point, but not without a lack of coaxing. Astraea had been somewhat tempted to leave the offer…if only his payment had not been so substantial. Whatever it was the old man wanted to retrieve, he wanted it badly, enough to offer a bounty too high to resist. So, here she was, squatting in an old, dilapidated pile of rocks, waiting for the thief to show up. She’d done hundreds of jobs like this before – this one would be no different. Get in, grab the gadget, get out. No big deal. She had to wonder though…what was it about that device that made it so desirable? She mentally shrugged to herself. Well, maybe it was just a scientist sort of thing.

[Flame]

There was a quiet scuff of paws and Astraea glanced over to see a familiar golden, spotted pelt slip around the corner to stop next to her. Almost automatically, the young woman reached over to stroke the feline’s head, despite the fact that the leopard-spotted cat was bigger than herself. ”Nothing unusual?” she asked. In response, Syria simply shook her head lightly, tailblades flicking lazily behind her. She might not be able to speak Common herself, but she could understand it, which made communication slightly easier between the pair. ”Well, in that case, there’s no point in us hanging around out here then, is there?” She stood, glancing about herself once more before making her way towards the entrance, taking care not to make any noise as she slid towards the place where the mark had vanished. Without bidding, Syria followed, keeping close to her mistress’s heels.

At the entrance, they stopped, and Astraea glanced at her companion – a silent cue for her to take the lead. Even though they were evenly-matched hunters, Syria’s acute sense of smell would come in handy while making their way through the maze that was the cathedral. Slipping ahead to pause in the doorway, the Khimera inhaled deeply, her jaws slightly parted as she drank in the scents that surrounded her. Dust, mold, mildew, rain…ah. There it was. The trail was fresh, and the male Khimera’s scent was distinct from the other musty smells that had been festering here for countless centuries. Without hesitation, she set off down the corridor, following the trail, all senses on full alert as she tracked her prey.

[Flame]

As Syria slipped into the looming darkness, Astraea followed her, slipping warily into the gaping maw of the entrance. The yawning gap that once held what must have been a grandiose door looked black and foreboding, even to her, and that was saying something. Being a vampire generally meant that one was comfortable in dark, shadowy recesses, but there was just something about this building that seemed to repel her, an aura that unsettled her mind and set the hair on the back of her neck on end. She'd been to darker places than this, but none of them had ever had this sort of effect on her. That, in and of itself, perturbed her. Nonetheless, a job was a job, and she wasn't planning on walking out on it now...not when she had a client waiting. She had a reputation to protect, and if she flaked out on this, it would undoubtedly blemish her standing as a bounty hunter.

{Fitting in my five posts, as Flameh is needed elsewhere as well x3 There's no rush - I just had an RP that refused to wait to be started xD}

[Flame]

The Khimera picked up on the same eerie feeling that her mistress did as well, but she, personally, did not seem half as unsettled by it. If she couldn't see it, smell it, hear it, or otherwise sense its presence as a threat, then it wasn't a threat. Danger only came in tangible forms, as far as she was concerned. It was what she had grown up knowing, and she wasn't planning on turning into a timid little cat over mere premonitions. Fear and insecurity could only lead to a cowardly death. So, she pushed the issue to the back of her mind and pressed on, unconcerned. Her blade tails flicked behind her, a mere fraction of an inch from striking the stone walls, but she seemed to be aware, even of the exact location and movement of both of her tails without having to keep and eye on them, which would have been quite the pain.

Following the scent trail, she wove deeper into the crumbling cathedral. Her only concern, at the moment, besides finding her quarry, was that the roof might possibly fall in on them. Judging by the dilapidated state of the fortress-like building, it wasn't going to stay standing much longer. She'd just have to hope that it didn't collapse while they were still in it. The scent began to grow stronger, and Syria knew that she was getting close. Turning, she glanced back at Astraea, who nodded in response. As they took up their pace once again, it was considerably slower, stealthier. The element of surprise was key here, and they'd prefer to be able to take their quarry with as little fight as possible.

[Jessari]

As the living passed over dead stones, the darkness stirred, awakening. It had been a long time since Liath Mòr had heard anything but the howling of the wind and the shrieks and moans of lesser spirits, but now he heard the pulsing of blood, the pounding of multiple hearts, and all were converging upon his abode. He blinked, intrigued, his relentless appetite stirring within him.

Liath Mòr resided in this cathedral, his spirit saturating the very bones of it, until the spiritually attuned could feel his presence resonating from each discarded stone, every toppled pillar. Whatever deity had once kept this place had utterly deserted it, leaving not a trace of goodness behind. The wise would never venture farther than the outskirts of the cathedral's property, yet these three had enough foolish bravado to enter the heart of his stronghold. It would be the last mistake they would ever make.

Despite the harsh wind that crashed against the cathedral ruins, a great fog rose from the ground, so thick that it was nearly tangible. In this fog, Liath Mòr walked unseen, moving to meet the nearest of the adventurers. He would not harm them, no. They would do that to themselves soon enough. Reaching out through the ghostly curtain, he brushed their emotions, caressing them as a skilled harpist would his strings. The human-formed one, the only being not quite living, sensed him, and that awareness tingled within his mind. He fed off her unease, and it was a tasty appetizer. How delicious it would be when he finally drove her mad!

(('Tis fine, Flamey-luff. In case you're curious, Liath Mòr is based off the Grey Man of Scottish legend. He was rarely ever seen, but was usually sensed, and had the tendency to stir suicidal tendencies in others. Feel free to have him affect your characters as little (or as much) as you feel fit.))

[Jessari]

Shard cursed under his breath as the ghostly fog rose from out of nowhere. As if he weren't having enough difficulty finding the device's location in the first place! His sources had told him it was buried underneath the ancient altar that had once been used for ceremonies both holy and perverse (not that this tidbit made any difference to him). Right now, though, the altar was playing hard-to-get. It was hard to judge the amount of time he'd been in here already; he'd explored several rooms, the purpose of which was difficult to determine. Had there been anything left besides the carcasses of rust-eaten chandaliers, it might have been more obvious.

Aside from the physical emptiness of the place, Shard could feel a presence. He had never been one to believe in ghosts, but this feeling was hard to shake. Dark fur rose all along his flanks, and the life-fluid flowing through his tubes began to glow slightly in response to his emotions. Although he was having a hard time navigating in this fog, he quickened his pace. The deeper he moved into the cathedral, the colder he became. He might as well have been human-form for all the good his fur was doing him.

And then there was the altar, rising up so quickly out of the fog that Shard nearly ran nose-first into it. He'd been expecting an elegant, decorative thing that would be easy to up-end, not the solid slab of stone that squatted stubbornly in front of him. The device was underneath this thing? Shard placed his shoulder against the altar, hissing in annoyance as he shoved with all his might. Had he known it was going to be this difficult to get to, he would've appropriated some sort of heavy machinery. A crane sounded pretty good right about now, or perhaps a buldozer.

As Shard pushed and shoved, the altar began to move, little by little. The Khimera held his breath, every muscle straining. At last it was out of his way, and he set to work on the smaller stones beneath it, aiming his tail blades in well-placed strikes intended to knock the mortar out from between them and make it easier to pry up from the floor. As he worked, his ears twitched and tilted. A couple of times he thought he heard footsteps, but when he listened harder, he heard nothing but the wind. Creepy.

[Flame]

With every step that she took, Astraea couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by this eerie place. She had the creeping suspicion that they were currently being watched, and for a moment, she stopped in place, all senses straining to find some sign of their unseen pursuer. Nothing. No footsteps, eyes gleaming in the darkness, telltale sound of cloth against skin. There was simply no one there. Another second, then the vampiress moved on, following the trail of her companion, who had gone on ahead. She could have sworn that with every step, the whole atmosphere seemed to drop a few degrees, and despite the fact that she had perfectly fine night-vision, it was as if the darkness was smothering her like a shadowy blanket, muffling her senses. For the first time, she felt a hint of uneasy fear trickle through her veins, chilling her blood.

Ahead, Syria had slipped through the winding corridors, following the unmistakable scent of her target. For her, every step was one closer to a victory, as the male Khimera was only wandering further and further into the heart of this dark abode. Soon, all her efforts would come to fruition once she caught him. As his scent grew stronger, she knew that he was slowing his pace, and that she was getting close, very close. Her footfalls were velvet, silent as she padded over the smooth, worn stones under her paws. Her tails flicked almost lazily behind her as she came to a stop, ears pricking at the sound of rock grinding against rock. Directly ahead, she could see the Khimera digging and pushing at what appeared to be the remnants of an altar. She weighed him with a trained gaze, judging how much fight he could potentially put up if he refuse to…come quietly. Most didn’t. ”So, I take it that you found what you were looking for.” Her voice was a silky purr as she padded forward, towards Shard. The fact that her mistress was not at hand didn't seem to bother her in the least. She would come in time: she always did. As for now, Syria was sure that she'd have no problem taking on this male Khimera single-handedly.

[Jessari]

Liath Mòr watched the vampiress in amusement. She felt him, and whether or not she'd admit to it yet, she feared him. He settled in closer to her, brushing her skin with invisible fingers. Alone, he whispered. Alone and weak. Her companion had left her, which suited him just fine. Mortals were always easier to break down once all outer supports had been removed. If she were anything like his other victims, she'd soon begin to see shadows in the fog, shadows born out of her own fears. As for the others? He'd make time to play with them shortly

* * * * *

As he neared his prize, Shard lost all thought of what could be waiting in the fog, although he still grumbled under his breath as moisture from the air combined with his sweat to slick down his fur. Still, he'd settled into a nice rhythm, tail-strike after tail-strike, each one taking him just that much closer. He could almost feel the energy waiting to be uncovered.

After several long minutes of diligent scraping, the Khimera hooked his tail-blades over the edge of the slab and attempted to pry it out. It was a struggle, lifting it from the spot it had rested for centuries on end, but he wasn't about to come this far only to fail. He strained against the weight, pain racing through twin tails that were more suited to quick strikes than steady tension, until finally he felt it move. Step by step, he moved away, until the slab lifted, tilted, fell beside it's former resting place.

The dampness of his fur, the pain in his tails, both were forgotten as Shard twisted back around to peer into the square hole. At the bottom, there was a small indentation, and....a cloth bag! His heart beat strongly in his chest as he reached in with one paw and drew it out. He'd just up-ended it, heard the light clatter as the other half of the artifact clattered onto the ancient floor.

”So, I take it that you found what you were looking for.”

His head jerked up, body unconsciously curling in a protective half-circle around the artifact on the ground. When he saw his pursuer, his eyes widened. She was...beautiful. Khimeras were rare where he came from, and he'd never seen one with such a unique pattern on her pelt. This lovely lady was radiant...and deadly, judging by her stance.

"I guess you could say that. I assume you found what you were looking for as well?" As he spoke, Shard dropped the halved artifact in the pouch around his neck where it clanked against its mate. He never took his eyes off her; he hadn't gotten this far by being naive. Why was she here? It wasn't like this place was overflowing with tourists. Perhaps he hadn't been as discreet in inquiring about the location of this artifact as he'd thought.

[Flame]

Astraea suppressed a shiver of unease as the atmosphere around her grew steadily more cold and clammy, the darkness pressing in around her. At this point, the adrenaline was coursing through her veins, and all of her senses were on full alert, waiting for something, any sign of the imminent danger which she felt hovering close at hand. The despairing thoughts which crossed her mind were not her own, that she was sure of, but if they weren’t hers…then whose were they? The thickening fog swirled ominously around her, and for a moment, she could have sworn that she’d seen something move in the darkness. Then again, still just on the very verge of her field of vision, not lingering long enough for her to get a good glimpse of whatever it was. Sometimes, she could have sworn that she’d seen its eyes, which were a stark, unnerving bone white. Or at least, so she thought. Frozen in spot, she had to fight to keep from backpedaling all the way to the entrance again, the irrational fear strong in her mind.

---

Syria watched with mild interest as the male Khimera took notice of her presence, assuming that the surprised look on his features was due to the fact that her appearance had been completely unexpected. Her twin tails flicked languidly behind her as golden eyes scrutinized her ‘quarry’, looking thoughtful as she considered her options. Already a step ahead of herself, she was looking for any flaw, a weakness that would aid her in incapacitating her target with the most ease. The fact that Astraea hadn’t arrived yet concerned her a little, but she figured that if anything, her mistress would guard the entrance and keep the Khimera from fleeing, should he slip through her own claws.

”Indeed I have, thanks to you,” she replied smoothly, ears flicking slightly as their voices echoed eerily in the cavernous room. With a liquid gait that caused the dense fog around her to swirl and eddy, she slowly padded towards the male Khimera, simultaneously cutting off what seemed to be the only entrance and exit to this chamber. If she wasn’t mistaken, this felt like the very heart of the dark, crumbling citadel, if the oppressiveness of the shadows were anything to judge by. It was only thanks to her feline night-vision that she could see anything in here at all: it had probably been decades, maybe even centuries, since this room had seen any light.

She stopped, several feet away from Shard, her gaze locked on his, brooking no mercy. ”Now, if you’d be so kind as to hand that toy of yours over, we can all go on our way, and no one gets hurt.” A hint of a smile touched her features as she spoke. ”After all, we’d all prefer the ‘clean and simple’ solution, wouldn’t we?”