Was it naivety that brought her here? The angels at home whispered about the cruel races that lived in Kurayo. Night walkers, vampires, drow, werewolves, and other creatures of the night prowl the perpetually dark city. It was a cursed place, and not one any sane angel would find themselves in. While Raziel would like to think she was sane on an increasingly insane (and impossible) quest, here she was taking her first steps off of the ship into the city she was warned against.

How else was she supposed to find Gabe and Rammie if she did not search every corner of the world? What truly scared her though was the what if’s that always nagged at the back of her mind. Are they dead? Maybe they’re always three steps ahead of her. What if the names her mother gave her were merely nicknames, and no one else knew the shortened version? What could they possibly be short for?

A large, black and brown wolf pressed against Raziel with a soft whine. ”Thanks Zander. You’ve been a good friend.” The wolf had sensed her hesitation, and rising distress, attempting to ground her in the preset once more. At least the city sounded normal enough. There were voices in conversation, people walking too and fro from place to place, and the howls of other canines echoing in the distance. She was sure that it was around midday, yet there was no sun warming her skin.

Staff before her, giving her the layout of the ground immediately in front of her feet, Raziel made her way forward. The lavender haired woman was beginning to learn the specific sounds of which building was which. Loud and rowdy were typically bars, and a decent place for information… sometimes. The clinks of metal on ceramic or wood was a place specifically for food. Quiet buildings were usually residential, and completely not where she wanted to be. There were smithies identifiable by the metal pounding metal, and leather workers and tanners marked by the scent. Even shops have their own distinct chatter that could be picked up on. This is what helped guide her through the cities.

When she sensed she was near someone, Raziel stopped and tried her best to sincerely ask for assistance. ”Excuse me, but I’m looking for someone.” ”Try the bar.” The person she approached huffed and stomped off. Taken aback, the angel continued forward again. Silence enveloped her, as she wondered what she had done wrong. Zander gave a soft growl, snapping the angel out of it. Renewing her attention to the sounds around her, it didn’t take long for her to realize that she was being followed by one, possibly two people. Her heart raced, grip tightened on her staff as she continued her pace.

The pursuer quicked his pace, and Raziel made a rash and sudden turn, and continued down a dark and bloodstained alley. About half way through, she stopped, as more people were coming from in front of her, effectively blocking her in. A hand shot up and found the wall, and the angel pressed herself against it fearfully. ”Please… Don’t.” ”Oh, we’ve heard of you, pet. Little Angel, wandering Parvpora in search of someone. Cut the blind crap, sweety, and look me in the eye as you tell me all you know.” ”But I am blind…” ”You expect me to believe that? How the hell did you get here then?”

Zander was growling at those who surrounded her. ”Tell us where he is, and you’ll be free.” Something inside had difficulties believing that, but she wanted so bad to get out of this stressful situation. What did her mother get her into?

First, embroiled in conflict within an unhallowed, forgotten cathedral in the depths of the Nyella ocean…and now wandering the streets of a curs-ed city. Unwittingly from the frying pan, and into the fire.

Story could not help but be amused by the reactions of passerby in this place, home to stalkers of the dark of all walks. They could sense that he was no man - but whatever their preternatural senses told them was clearly perplexing.
The dragon could also not help but wonder…how many vampires that dwelt here carried the blood of his brothers, diluted down through the ages? Their sin against creation was by no means to be the only one of its kind; there were other progenitors of the species, to be certain…


Drawing the hood of his long dark coat up, Story made his way down the poorly-cobbled paths towards the local tavern, careful not to brush too close to any he passed. His indigo gaze he deliberately cast to the ground whilst he assumed a slumped and unassuming posture. He was being pursued. There was no way to be sure how many cities this network of scholar-hunters operated in, for one. Another matter entirely was the council of Kurayo itself. If any of them were made aware of what he was, he did not know what sort of action would be taken. Many ages had passed, and Story had managed to go by as an unknown, mostly keeping to himself until recently.

Word of ancient cathedrals surfacing from the ocean, and dragons dueling against the backdrop of a stormy sky tended to travel quickly, spread by terrified sailors.

"Tell us where he is.."

Chancing by an alley, Story paused when he heard these words. Dark goings on were no secret in Kurayo. Given the chasms between the ruling parties, however, everyone knew the who's who and what's what. Dealings were rarely done in the open. Something about the urgency behind the demand he'd overheard seemed out of place.
Upon investigation, he silently cursed himself. There was a group of men harassing a young girl and a wolf, which appeared to be her charge, the way it defensively growled and placed itself between her and the men. These men were unmistakable by their garb. He recognized the tan with gold embroidery of their coats, and the emblem of the owl-headed phoenix which they wore. Story knew that he had to intervene, or they would take this girl prisoner, or worse.

"You needn't question la fille any further, Hunter," Story's deep, thickly-accented voice reverberated through the alley as he stepped into view. He paced about the broken circle of them all, joining the wolf in a protective stance near the girl, his hand resting upon the pommel of an estoc at his side. "She truly knows not of what you speak. Here I am."

"Ah, Judicator Thorn. I-"

Story spat, cutting the man off. "Je deteste such antiquated titles. C'est inévitable. Your ignorance will be spared just this once."

"You've the blood of many on your hands, Judicator," the hunter persisted. "Not just of your own kind…but of humankind. You've been allowed to exist for far too long. You must answer for your crimes of tyranny and corruption. This thrall you have put under your spell will suffer with you, for there is no saving her now."


Story chuckled darkly. "You, who insist upon digging up old bones, on knowing history know who I am…yet still you know not what you do or of what you speak. She and I are not even acquainted…if you wish to know what sort of judgement I am capable of passing, however, try me…You shan't harm a hair on her head, or her companion's."

At these words, the men drew their swords, the sound of which attracted the attention of a passing drow pikeman. Several more folk gathered, and another guardsman began to shed his human form upon witnessing the confrontation, letting his lycanthropy take hold…

Just as her fear became almost palpable, Zander’s defense doing nothing to ease her fraying nerves, came the sound of boots clicking in approach to the assailants and their prey. She was losing ability to rationally think through all possibilities, self preservation becoming top priority. All the rising fear seemed to melt into relief when the approaching stranger spoke in her defense. Raziel latched onto the word Hunter, and wondered if they were talking about Gabe.

Turns out that this stranger was actually the one these people sought, and somehow, she was in the middle of it all, because she was looking for someone. Her questioner named the stranger as Judicator Thorn, which did not make him pleased whatsoever. Raziel frowned as she tried to follow the accusations. Unfortunately, things were taking a turn for the worse as weapons were drawn. There was no denying that unmistakable sound of metal scraping scabbard.

Naturally, that drew the attention of several others. Without the ability to tell who was fighting who, Raziel was becoming quite overwhelmed. In her near century of life, never had she felt like this, fearful and helpless. So much emotion broiled within her heart, setting the angel adrift in a vengeful ocean of darkness. Her knuckles began to turn white from gripping her staff too tight. Instinctively, she raised it high above her head.

”GO AWAY!” Raziel struck her staff hard against the ground as she screamed out. A blinding light burst forth, engulfing all and chasing away all shadow. There was also some light tremors underfoot, brightly coloring Raziel with a decent map of the city in her mind. Grasping the would be protector’s wrist, the angel took the opportunity to push their way out of the alley. She had to get out of that tight enclosement, the feeling of claustrophobia was becoming quite stifling with so many angry people quick to fight surrounding the peaceful angel.

Dragging whom she could only assume was named Thorn behind her, the half-breed led him down the street. But her advantage of clarity in the blinding situation was quickly dissolving, leaving her panting in a populated plaza. Raziel released her protector, returning to gripping the staff tightly, head ducked low as her cheeks heated with a bit of embarrassment. ”Um… Thanks… For helping… Whatever I did… I don’t think it’ll keep them for long.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, kept low and soft from her shy nature.

Following the phantasmagorical light show, the blind led the blind,  as Story was urgently pulled through the alley by the small angelic young woman. He could hear the howling of the lycanthrope guardsman behind them. The luminous sorcery his ill-fated companion had cast had afforded them some time, but not much.
"Thanks is far from warranted," Story explained, patting her hand comfortingly as he held it in his own. "You are a stranger in a strange land. While you might have run into trouble regardless, it is on my account that you are in danger. The men you spoke to are a ruthless lot…looking for anything remotely resembling a lead to my whereabouts."

Indigo gaze softening in pity as he gazed upon the poor creature, he led her by the hand to follow him this time, behind some crates and barrels along the thoroughfare they had bursted from the alley into. Her anxiety was palpable. "Breathe, mon cher. Breathe. Bien."
Story took a deep breath of his own, watching the street carefully as he spoke.
"This Order that is tailing me will likely convince the guardsmen, and possibly may have already convinced the council of Kurayo that I am an ancient threat, to acquire their aid. The vampires in-particular would take such implications very seriously, given the age of the more prominent families here. If only I had the time to explain the irony to you…"

Shaking his head as he trailed off, Story spoke a slight bit more rushed, in a more hushed tone. He spotted the tell-tale colors and coat of arms at the far end of the street.
"It is my understanding that you are searching for someone. I am more than capable of helping in that regard. In recompense for this mess."

Keeping low, behind the harbor freight, Story gently tugged at the woman's arm, urging her to follow his lead once more. Though he detested the lengths that this Order had gone to in order to end him, he would respect his charge's wish to not engage in conflict, so long as he could manage it. "They called me Thorn," he whispered to her. "I would prefer that you call me Story, though."

In a normal circumstance, Raziel would question the act of following a complete stranger. However, given their pursuers, the angel was actually comforted by his assistance. Yet, her body was still quivering with the unaccustomed surge of adrenaline. She was unaware of the fact that she was holding her breath until he reminded her.

He was under the impression that the whole city may be after him, manipulated by old stories spread by whoever the Order was. The unlikely pair continued their crouched walk, Raziel tucking her wings closer to her body. If the rumors of perpetual darkness was correct, they would stick out as a sore thumb. Raziel nodded in response to his question. ”For two people. I think… I think Gabe is my father.”

The implications of this statement may ellude this Thorn, but it was mind shattering for the angel. For decades, she has heard tale after tale about the mighty angel, and doting dryad lover as they fought evil, side-by-side. But mother never gave the angel a name to the eager child. Instead, she only mumbled the name in her sleep.

”Story? My name is Raziel. Really, all I wanted are clues to Gabe and Rammie’s whereabouts. He is an angel, fights evil, protects everyone. Someone must know something!” She was careful to keep her voice low as she followed behind the accented man. Meanwhile, Zander padded along as silently as a wolf could, sensing their need for stealth.

"Angels…are not a race I am well-connected with. They would know of my own bloodline, however, if the ones you speak of are old enough to remember."
Story halted, signaling Raziel to do the same. His already vibrant indigo eyes seemed to glow faintly as he looked beyond the freight they cowered behind, discerning the auras of each passerby.
"The lot of them are surrounding both sides of the street. I don't think we'll be getting out without any confrontation…."
He trailed off, heaving a determined sigh. "…Though, I can cause enough of a distraction for you to escape."

Before Raziel could speak, he continued. "Make it out of the city, and to the woods. I'll meet you at the treeline. Just make a sign. If I've not arrived in a few hour's time…move on from this place. I will find you. Va vite."

Story arose and boldly strode into the middle of the thoroughfare.

As he moved, and the sounds of commotion at him having been spotted arose, a strange dark light enveloped his body. It flickered and distorted, casting shadows of a monstrous form about him. The men of the Order and the guardsmen seemed to be aware of what was to transpire, but before they could rush him, it was already too late.
The light swirled and pulled in upon itself before flaring in a blinding display.

Large, powerful claws gripped the ground beneath a hulking form, cracking the cobblestones. Massive, aurora-tinted wings spread out from the dragon, as it stretched all of its limbs, and its stag-crowned head rose in level with the rooftops. Arrows were loosed in panic at the sight, which harmlessly deflected off the creature's shining ebony hide like twigs. The only resemblance to the man that it had been before were the indigo eyes, which were now reptilian in appearance.

Story reared back, and let out a piercing, blood-curdling roar as he coiled defensively over where Raziel and Zander still lay in wait.

She received the signal to stop, the timberwolf biting at the back of her clothing to make sure she got it. Raziel gave a soft groan the news of being surrounded, and the necessity of the confrontation. ”Wh–” He cut her off with instructions. Story wanted her to wait for him at the treeline outside of the city. ”Story, no.” But he wouldn’t listen.

Instead, she watched his vibrations getting fainter in her odd sensory of vision. What she didn’t expect, however, was for something massive to create earth rumbling vibrations so near to her. Zander let out a soft growl, trying to get her to move from danger, but Raziel was rooted with shock. The creature, who she swore was where Story last stood originally, was beautiful. Even if she could only see the vibrations dance over its form and nothing else, the angel could see the size and shape. Arrows were invisible until they hit the dragon, bouncing off, and again when they bounced on the ground, fading from sight as they lost momentum.

As Story the dragon’s roar bellowed out, Raziel clamped her hands over her ears. It was enough to knock her back to her senses. The angel began chanting a small little smell, molding the gate to be small enough for her to crawl through, and no bigger. With her lack of knowledge about the city, she had to guess distance and location. Unfortunately for her, after she crawled through, Zander right behind her, she realized her mistake far too late. Raziel went to place her hand before her, only to find nothing beneath it, sending her tumbling down a steep cliff. Her wolf had tried to catch her, but was too late.

Zander whined from above, watching her as she failed to move. The wolf did not like how her wing looked like it was pinned oddly beneath her, nor the fact that the angel was not getting up. He paced back and forth before turning, darting back towards town. In this area, there was only one person who had shown any signs of trustworthiness. It was now his mission to find Story and lead him back to his master.