Exton

I have been on the trail for more time than I can recall. The Tavern is far from me, and yet I feel something is wrong. Josephito.. I can feel... something. Not him,not my cooza, but the Kith. Has Castle returned? I am too far away, and cannot leave this Hunt.

I reach out to Mortuis, touching his mind, feeling that he is aware of the trouble as well, and like me unable to leave what he is doing.

The footsteps are clear in the soft soil. The creature is booted, yet hulking. His scent has been found at every gravesite. The only problem has been the lack of evidence. I have found nothing that the human science hasn't. That in itself is unusual.

I sense movement in the darkness. It has been searching among the tombstones, suddenly stopping to lean over another grave and chant. I creep closer, ghosting through the night on soft soled boots. It is calling up the power that is laid to rest. Another of a hero's line, taken from this earth before they can come into their heritage.

I draw my scimitar and touch it lightly on an outstretched glove. My scaled hand and talons shimmer in the moonlight.

"Cease and desist. Why do you gather the magic of the Fallen?"

The words stop, but the creature does not turn. Instead it settles into a crouch and reaches up to remove the hood of its cloak. I watch the reflection in my blade, remembering my history, and unwilling to be caught unaware by something with the powers of a Gorgon or Basilisk.