She carried herself through the door, the events of the previous days having weighed on her to the point of near exhaustion. Physically? Not so much, hardly the worst experience that she had endured as to her own body, but it was a task that had left Vyra utterly drained. A job: a simple one really, a job that most novice mages would be able to take and carry out with little issue. That is, most mages, who under most cases, would have control over their Magic.

Vyra was not one of them.

While her grasp over her Magic - Disease Magic, as she had come to understand it to which only managed to leave a disgusted taste in her mouth just thinking about - had grown over the past two years since Alisa had helped her discover it, her control over it was still far from what the sheer power of it demanded.  Control was a far cry from what she possessed, and even with something as relatively simple as an entry job provided to her with the blessings and authorization of the Blue Pegasus Guild, that lack of control had proven to be the difference between a brief afternoon away and a coin flip away from being gone for days doing damage control.

It was evident upon her face, things had not gone as expected. The depressant frown that hardly wanted to even so much as look up to the man standing opposite the counter before her made it clear enough. Waiting for no acknowledgement beyond her taking a seat, the man began to pour the Demi-Human her typical drink, a glass of orange juice with a small spritz of cherry liquor included, just for flavoring.

“How was it?” He asked innocently, placing the prepared drink before Vyra.

[300/2000]

A sigh echoed out from her lips. She knew his intentions were honest, but it did not take away from how disappointed she felt, how bringing it up only stood to remind her of her near-failure. Yet, perhaps few better to express her ordeals to than this man. The same fellow whom she had first met on the fateful day Alisa invited her here, to the Blue Pegasus Guild Hall. The same man whom had helped Vyra through all of the logistical hoops that came with her building an affiliation with the guild.

Not a member exactly, but two-years’ worth of time in their company had helped build outside credibility to where she was in essence, one of their own. That had opened the door for things like this, a chance to know what it’s like to be a guild mage, to go through the sort of jobs and things that were customary with the role. It as much served as a chance for Vyra to know for herself if Blue Pegasus was truly something that she wanted, a hope that though she would not say openly, undoubtedly Alisa hoped for, as did others including the man tending bar.

“Your Magic again?” He didn’t really expect an answer from her, but that wasn’t necessary. Vyra’s Magic, or more specifically the wildly dangerous nature of it, was something well known to those who needed to in Blue Pegasus. It was in part why of the jobs that the Guild felt comfortable providing to her, they were largely those that demanded the least application of Magic to accomplish. “At least you may take solace in knowing that nobody was harmed.”

Vyra looked up. It was cheap, but perhaps the only actual thing to be appreciative of, that outside of some panic and fear within the moment, no genuine harm came towards anyone. “I guess… Doesn’t really make it feel any better.”

Her eyes trailed upon the poured drink before her, the small stirring straw moving ever so slightly along with the remnants of the man’s stirring. A voice that she had not recognized was in the area broke the subtly-hypnotic gaze that had been fixed upon the straw, “You know, there’s people who can help you control your Magic. Outside the guild, if you’re really concerned that is.”

[686/2000]

Though their time together since their first meeting had been seldom, Vyra had received some degree of control towards her Magic from Alisa and plenty from trusted advisors whom had personally selected for her. But the idea of someone outside of Blue Pegasus teaching her seemed far-fetched and had it not been for the disappointed look upon the man’s face, Vyra likely would not taken it serious to begin with.

Turning around in her seat, she could see another Blue Pegasus mage seated only a table or so away from the bar. Friends may have been a bit of a strong word to describe the rapport between the two, but certainly this woman had shown herself to be far more sympathetic to Vyra than others had, despite knowing her relationship to Alisa. “What do you mean!?”

“Supposedly, and take that for what you want, there’s been quite a bit of chatter about this group. Some sort of underground group, I don’t know all the details really, but apparently their main thing is helping mages who are in deep trouble.”

The last word gave Vyra pause, “Trouble?”

“You know, like give them shelter, help them leave Fiore if they need to, especially with all that’s been going down deeper in the country side.” A faint, albeit visible shiver, seemed to run down the woman’s spine.

Vyra turned towards the bartender, confused exactly as to what the woman meant. Clearly, it was something, but unsurprisingly she was a bit out of the loop. “Witch hunters. Local group of people organized to bring rogue mages into justice. A radical response to a world people don’t understand. Blue Pegasus works hard to keep them out of Hargeon, but still it’s a threat that’s becoming and more common.” He tended to some recently washed glasses, wiping them down, “I wouldn’t recommend looking for whatever group may be out there. While much of Hargeon knows you as a friend of Alisa, at the end of the day you are not a member of the Guild. No certainty that groups like that would recognize that, or even honor it.”

“But there’s a chance?” Vyra asked, hopeful. Witch hunters were a term that she had heard a bit about, but people spoke of them more like stories than of reality. The idea of them certainly did worry her, but so did the prospect of leaving her Magic as it was.

[1088/2000]

The conversation largely winded down after that point, the bartender and woman having a short, albeit passionate debate towards the role of this supposed group and whether Vyra should have tried to get involved with them. Both points were fair, reasonable, and the Demi-Human would have been lying if she still didn’t have doubts as she ventured through Hargeon, hoping to find some sort of indicator of if even such a group existed. But, at what may have been a day’s worth of searching, the risk seemed appropriate given what stood to be gained. Really, it would just be trying to find some evidence of their existence that would be a problem.

An organization like this, despite its purpose serving good, put itself directly within the crosshairs of groups like witch hunters. And of what little Vyra had heard of them, they did not operate without some sort of backing, financially or politically. It would be a very fine line that she would have to walk as to neither raise attention of them, nor of an ally that they may have had. Fortunately, Vyra also had friends in Alisa, the woman who perhaps held more power – both in respects of her Magic and her influence – than anyone else. If things ever descended to where they were going after Vyra, they’d face a wrath few would ever wish to confront against.

[1318/2000]

It could not have felt more like a waste of time.

Vyra had spent close to hours venturing through Hargeon Town, her search taking her through not only the areas near the Hargeon Port, but similarly the spots that seemed to lie upon the border of what was considered residential areas. Whether the area had wealth or was more run down, full of people or sparse, nobody was able to give Vyra any sort of actual information. At best, she simply received more of what the woman at the Guild Hall had indicated; rumors and speculation without anything reliable or that she could follow up on.

Drained, depleted, and tired; the disappointment of the job she had finished earlier now taking an even greater toll on her own body, Vyra started back towards the Guild Hall, the appeal of a hot meal and her warm bed being highly enticing. Along the way though, she noticed something that had eluded her investigations up until this point.

A tavern. Nothing particularly noteworthy by itself, only that it was one that Vyra had not checked out yet.

Inside, hardly anything to give reassuring thoughts. A few patrons scattered throughout the building, one or two to the bar while others were at tables scattered throughout. Even without asking anyone, Vyra just felt defeated. Whatever the reason, her optimism towards this being a lead, a lone light in the darkness, it seemed just idealistic at best.

Dejectedly, she made her way to the bar, ordering a small drink. Alcohol still often did not sit right with her or taste all that great, but given the Vyra had, she wasn’t in the mood to object to the bartender’s suggested drink. With the mug placed before her, the Demi-Human had become so fixated towards it that she had failed to notice the woman who moved closer to her, coming up as close as to stand right beside her, “This seat taken?”

[1642/2000]

Admittedly caught off guard, Vyra had to do a double take to see that the woman was actually talking to her. She stammered, “Uh, yeah, I guess. Sure if you’d like!”

The woman smiled, kind eyes shining through a pair of thin glasses that did not take away from an overall attractive face. “Thank you!” She warmly said as she took a seat beside Vyra, “Glass of port. Strongest you have,” a subtle nod in thanks was the extent of attention afforded the bartender, the woman shifting her attention wholly to Vyra. “You’re someone who one wouldn’t expect to find in a place like this. What’d bring a beautiful little thing like you into a damp place like this?”

Vyra shrugged her shoulders. By this point it didn’t seem like the idea of being secretive mattered. Wasn’t as though anyone was going to know anything and even if by some miracle they did, not as though anyone actually knew who she was anyways. “Looking for something. Someone. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter anyway. They’re not here.”

A frown appeared upon the woman’s face, “I’m sorry to hear that. You know, sometimes what we’re looking for, if we can’t find it, maybe it’s because in reality, it doesn’t need to be found.” She paused, looking over Vyra for a moment, “Sure you’re not lost?”

It was difficult to not put on a face of disgust as she took a sip of the beer, but Vyra resisted the urge, shaking her head as she swallowed, the beer burning down her throat. “No, I’m on my way home.”

“Back to the Guild Hall?”

Vyra’s eyes widened, turning her head and full attention towards the woman who flashed a small smile at Vyra’s reaction. “How do you know that!?”

[1939/2000]

She was not sure how to properly think of this. Was that this woman knew of her, or at the bare minimum that she was with Blue Pegasus a sign that she may have known something? Was that a good thing? A combination of fear and anticipation filled Vyra’s head as she awaited the woman’s response, her face never seeming to indicate anything shy of genuine kindness.

“Well, your clothes are probably your biggest giveaway.” Vyra looked down, wondering quite what it would have been that stuck out, until she realized the coat that she had been given, namely the woolen lining inside, blue in color like that of much of the Blue Pegasus clothing, with the guild’s Icon embraided upon the breastplate. “Spend any time around Hargeon really, you come to recognize that symbol.” A moment passed, but just a brief one for the woman to watch Vyra’s reactions, noticing her seeming to calm down a little bit, “But of course, with that line of thinking anytime anyone saw someone wearing something with a guild’s seal on it, we’d assume to be mages.”

Vyra turned around, the calmness in her waning just slightly as she looked back at the woman again, thinking she understood just what she meant. “In my line of work, it comes with the territory to know the difference between the two.” Nodding in appreciation towards the bartender as he returned to the pair with her glass and another mug that he left before Vyra, the woman leaned a little closer towards the Demi-Human, “I also know when someone’s looking for me.”

[2205/2000]

“So, Magic that you can’t control?” The woman looked away from the Demi-Human for a moment, gesturing to the bartender to pour another glass. The conversation had gone on for a bit now, Vyra reluctantly providing information while being careful not to reveal anything about her other personality; the thing which scared her arguably more than the lack of control she had over her Magic. Though it wasn’t the easiest thing to hide, Vyra was able to convey enough to at least paint somewhat of a full picture for the woman. “I can understand your concern, but this feels like something that you’re better off seeking help from Blue Pegasus.”

“But, I thought… the way they made it seem,” Vyra was lost for words. This had been further than what she had come to expect out of this, but to hear this woman seemingly wave past her concern, it was hard not to feel crushed. She didn’t know what outcome she may have been hoping to find, but it was hard not to be disheartened listening to her.

“Not taking anything away from you, not my aim. But, something that you’re talking about, figure if something were to exist, well let’s just say there’s a level of urgency that probably comes with things like that. Controlling Magic? It takes time, patience, but it can be done.” The woman could not help but frown a bit seeing the disappointment on Vyra’s face, “Look, if there is anything that I could tell-“ her words were cut off by a loud cracking sound, one that could not help but draw not only her attention, but that of Vyra and most of those within the tavern.

“AYO!” A voice boomed from just beyond the entrance to the tavern, where multiple men seemingly towered over any chance of escape between those inside and those out. “What’s you got for me and my friends, pops?”

[2524/2000]

Perhaps six in total, nothing particularly noteworthy towards them, but was not needed given who they were. Thugs. Ruffians. Whatever particular name one wished to have given them, the idea and concept were still the same. An example of the lawlessness that had become more frequent within Fiore as times became more desperate, and despite the efforts made to make Hargeon a shining example of progress, too often were the younger generations drawn to the thrill and gains that could come from a life of crime.

“Hey, look at that,” bellowed out one of the men behind the one who yelled out initially, a low booming voice audible by those at the bar, but quickly trailing off beyond that. “Blue girl got some goat horns. Ever do it with a goat?”

“That’s sick,” remarked another of the men, their voice much higher in pitch.

The man in front tilted his head, his eyes fixated upon Vyra, “Look past the horns, hot as hell. What you say? HEY! GOAT GIRL!” He bellowed out, a smirk appearing upon his face as she turned her head towards them, a worried look upon her face. “You ever been with six guys?”

The men began moving towards her, their footsteps heavy, evil intentions easily read upon their faces. Vyra turned towards the woman, hoping for some sort of help, whether she step forward and object, pull her away, or something. But to the Demi-Human’s despair, the woman was gone, nowhere to be found. Now panicked, she turned around, hoping to find someone to help, only to see nobody seemingly willing to step forward.

Vyra was on her own.

A few more steps forward by the group and Vyra found herself with nowhere to go, trying to move backwards with only her back pressing against the edge of the bar counter. As she stared into the eyes of the men, all of them fixated on her, she closed her eyes, hoping to open them again and find out this was all a dream.

But as she opened them, she simply saw them again, another step or two closer.

And then everything went black.

[2881/2000]

Her eyes went black, for the briefest of moments her consciousness seeming to fail as her body almost seemed to go limp upon the barstool. But only a moment later, her eyes opened again, life seemingly returning to her body as she turned her attention towards the men in a singular motion. “Looking to play, are we?” She asked coolly, even seductively perhaps, to which ilicited a number of chuckles and nods from the men, now only a couple of meters away from her. “Good…” Vyra snickered with an evil hint in her voice, “I’ve been looking forward to trying this.”

Pulling up one of her sleeves, Vyra kept her focus locked in upon the men as she began to lick her arm, bringing it down as her tongue extended from the lower forearm to her wrist. It perplexed those watching for a moment, though in the immediacy that followed, the confusion turned into terror as a purple mist began to materialize around Vyra, thick and having a nauseous odor to itself. With evil eyes, she pointed her hand towards them, as though an invitation, but not for them to come closer, but rather for the cloud around her to be projected outwards, engulfing all of them within it.

Coughs and cries of agony filled the tavern as the group of six found themselves utterly unable to do anything other than suffer within the miasma encasing them. To the onlooker, it was a terrifying sight, made even worse by the delighted look upon Vyra’s face, the way in which she walked the perimeter of the cloud, gleefully admiring all the moments of pain and suffering that were being inflicted upon them. Pleas muffled within throats that were constricted to the point of near suffocation, it was a cacophony of sounds that would lend for one to cover their ears and pray it stopped.

Vyra simply delighted in it.

As this went on for moments more, the men in desperate fight or flight responses beginning to will themselves upright, Vyra took a step back, the wicked smile never leaving her face. Rather, it only seemed to grow as she began to run her tongue along the insides of her mouth, after a moment spitting onto the ground what could have been perceived as some small collection of a similar purple-ish goo. It ultimately mattered quite little what it actually was, as it was only a distraction to the purple Magic Rune that seemed to appear beneath the collection of men within the cloud. A brief flash, and before anyone could so much as react, a pillar of an almost liquid-like material, with a sickly purple much like that of the cloud that enveloped the men, consumed everything.

The force by which the pillar echoed out left little room for interpretation as to the fates of the men. Their cries of a slow, agonizing death were erased away by loud screams of absolute pain, the collective scream drowned out by the pure intensity of the pillar that erupted upwards combined with the roof of the tavern caving upon itself, adding more rubble to whatever may have stood to remain of the men within.

And then there was silence.

A calm that felt eerily out of place in the wake of what had just transpired. A calm that one would have reasonably expected to have been filled by the laughter or celebration of Vyra, who carried out and reveled in the pain caused only moments prior. But the Demi-Human found herself simply staring down upon the wreckage, the bodies of the men contorted as plague filled their organs, leaving them nothing more than flesh and decayed insides. It was a gruesome sight, and Vyra simply stood there, looking on in overly abundant horror at what she had done.

Feeling something in her throat, a need to vomit, a disgust towards what occurred and towards herself as well, the Demi-Human rushed out of the tavern as quickly as possible, the sounds of her sobbing as she escaped from the tavern being perhaps the only sound anyone within the vicinity heard in the immediate aftermath.

[3571/2000]

Spells [1600/2000]

Name: Miasma
Rank: A
Mana Cost: 200
Requirements: Living Plague; Debuff (Offensive); Mana Burn (Offensive)
Type: Offensive
Element: Darkness
Range: 20 Meters
Cooldown: 4 Post
Duration: Instant
Effect: Vyra licks her arm from about her forearm up through her wrist, causing a Magic Seal to form beneath her. During this, her saliva will materialize into a purple taint that begins to decompose itself into a gaseous substance having a diameter of 1 meter that surrounds the air around her. Upon gesturing her arm towards a target, the cloud will move towards a target, erupting either upon contact, reaching maximum range, or otherwise prematurely by Vyra performing another action with her arm such as the clenching of her fist. On eruption, the gas will spread outwards and cover a diameter of 8 meters, inflicting A-Rank damage to anyone struck or otherwise enter within the cloud, also suffering an A-Rank debuff to their Constitution attribute for one post.

Name: Plaguefall
Rank: A
Mana Cost: 200
Requirements: Living Plague; Debuff (Offensive); Mana Burn (Offensive)
Type: Offensive
Element: Darkness
Range: 20 Meters
Cooldown: 4 Post
Duration: Instant
Effect: Vyra spits up phlegm upon the ground, causing a Magic Seal to appear beneath her and a target within range. From the Seal beneath the target comes a pillar of sickly-purple material having a maximum diameter of 8 meters, drenching the area and all those who either come into contact with it or otherwise touch it, dealing A-Rank damage per application and also applying an A-Rank debuff to their Constitution attribute for one post.

She sat from beyond the visage of those at the bar. One was known, the other was foreign, in more ways than one. A gentle conversation, one of despondence whilst the other of neutrality, then that of optimism devolving away towards despair.

An unfortunate tale, but far from an uncommon one.

Save for the small things. The horns of the woman, a feature that one would be hard-pressed to not take notice of, especially within this area. The royal blue, indicative of someone who had no place here. But more than anything, it was after the expendables entered inside did she truly take attention.

The demeanor shift, the quickness of it all, the ruthlessness towards them, a coldness not undeserved, but unexpected of a girl having no business in a place like this. And to go from the young girl seated defeated at the bar to the predator stalking and executing her prey, she could not help but smirk.

Seldom was there something that truly piqued her interest. Perhaps this were an exception to the standard.

[3747/2000]