Lumikki of Iceberg

"My eyes are open."

    All the ravens were still stirred. Screeching in the skies above and circling about, until many wandered toward the area of their master. A means of both care and protection, but also by her would be the safest place now. Between the crackle of make-shift lightning, and the unrest of the birds. The peaceful and serene moment was shattered. More so for Lumikki than any other, as she could hear ever word uttered by her ravens in their distress.

”I hunts us!” They chanted, ”It hunts our Revna too!” they would utter on. ”It killed from us. It took from us!” Their anger and fear were bubbling all at one, erupting in their frustrations and paranoia.

Lumikki could hardly stand it, the quacking of their words, almost being struck, and news of her birds murdered was enough to make her pulsate with a demonic aura. It was wafting even in her hidden form, bringing attention to the fact that she was not what she seemed.

”Tell me exactly what the woman told you about the case…I could only make out so much in the distance but I need to be sure. Me birds speak of losing some of their own, and what more ye confirm the creature wants me life?” Lumikki could hardly drop down, in an explosion of feathers she’d re-emerge as the human version of herself…mostly that is as there were blemishes in her appearance. There were patches of skin that gave to the icy parts of her demonic form, and splotches of black skin. She was disheveled and disgruntled. It even showed in her walk as all steps lacked her usual flighty grace. Lumikki in an attempt to save fave, summoned herself a cloak of shadow, one that could hard her face in darkness and make her harder to notice.

"What they don't know won't hurt them... yet."

Lumikki of Iceberg

"One is an Omen, Eight for a wish"

Lumikki looked over to the stone in his hand. She had caught a glimpse of it before but was too annoyed to pay any mind to it. Instead, she focused on forcing a calm but it was apparent that it was not coming easy to her in the moment.

With clutched fists, the frost mage took deep breaths. Each one counted and calculated. When she felt less annoyed, enough that she could speak, the Demoness pulled back while raising her hand. Pulling back her fingers revealed a chunk of black ice with a marking just like the one in Zeno’s palm. The circle and lines mimicking the replica given to them. Like Zeno, she ran her finger along the grooves as if it were a meditation. The fixation of the feeling of the mark helped channel the excess frustrations into something outside of herself. And though it did not cure her of her fury, it would serve its role well enough.

”Did they mention more of the older cases to ya Zeno? Anywhere to find out more information? Rune Knights or not, we are the guild of the Warden of the North. They owe it to us to deliver whatever reports they hold in our territory as they got a higher power to deal with. Granted it ain’t I, but I know where to send the raven if need be.” Finally there was color in her voice, thought Zeno would not be able to see past her veil and perceive her horrific expression. It suited her well to be smothered in darkness, and if she could take on another form to walk this earth, she would in a heartbeat. Too many people know who she was and that was dangerous for a creature of her status and alignment.

The pair were a fair many blocks away from the church now and were making their way through the roads of the market. There were vendors every which was trying to peddle their goods but for the most part the two ignored them. ”What brings ya to an Illumin country Zeno? I can’t figure they like yer ilk anymore than they like mine. Fairies were the ones told by stories to have driven their gilded pigeons back to their own realm. They have me thanks for that, but I understand if ye would rather spit on their like all the same. Topless fools they are, yammering on their virtues while their own priest whispers rituals and ruin behind closed doors. I looked into it meself some time ago, and didn’t gain any blessings for it. Bless must it be to be a darn Seraphim among the masses, but don’t think me jealous, I much rather the fate I have now. Me wings are far truther than those gilded peacocks would have ye know!”

The Stone:

"Pity those who hold the gaze of me flock."