Fool's Adventures: A Demon's Souls/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Quest

The dust that used to be Angel pattered to the beige rug around your feet. Stupid vampire. Trusting he could take the human. Sliding the stake back in under your jacket you plotted how you were going to kill the girlfriend in the next room. There was a rather handy vase on a little end-table your grandfather carved from a stump almost three decades ago. That'd do.

Picking the vase up in your hand, you let the happy memories buried in the feeling of the porcelain bouy you as you tip the flowers and dirt out and walk towards the door to the other room. You call out, your voice warbling in that way you know it does when you are dreaming.

"Hey, Slayer! My Lady would like me to do something to you!" Your hand clenches on the rim as you turn the corner and you see a screaming blonde blur racing towards you. You have enough time to raise the vase and then there is a loud crash and pained scream as the charging girl slams into the porcelain obstacle. She tips backward, you can see blood streaming down her face and falling shards of ceramic.

Awww, is that it? The thought interrupts dream-you as you feel your body in two positions at once, standing, and laying on your side. Time to wake up then.

You breathe in, and open your eyes to the white expanse of your pillow mashed into your nose. A grunt of effort has you levering into a seated position. Running your hand through mussed up red hair you sit wrapped up in your covers, staring at the red gold light filtering through your window. Another day, another dawn, come and gone again. Hmm Sunday. The view from your room was something else really, if you cared to go over and look out the thing. The sigh stretching your lungs is cathartic as you continue the thought started in your dream.

Would I drop the fragments or not? You wonder as you stretch your arms above your head, enjoying the little cracks in your joints, your gaze unintentionally running over your stuff as they laid across the dresser beside the bed. Latria's Remington was shining after the cleaning you gave it last night, ammo neatly laid out beside it in little red rows. Your jacket was hanging up, and peeking out of the front pockets you could see your gloves, and the stake. You feel your teeth crunch together at that little reminder.

Those people…

Shaking your head you squirm out of bed, running your hand through hair still fluffy from your shower last night, to go about your morning ablutions. Distracting yourself from images of that fucking blood soaked vampire with thoughts of how this place even has running water.

Probably a master demon involved in the chain, somewhere.

Which has been your running theory for the past several days, after you got past the idea of 'unobservant bureaucrats' when a walk around the house confirmed that the meters were… unplugged. Probably. Either way, whatever the cause, the water was warm, almost boiling, as it dumped itself on your head. You were careful with your arms, keeping them out of the way as much as possible and moving slowly when you couldn't. The tugging of the water on your blood red hair was both welcoming, and made you twitchy. A little always comes out after all…

And that line of thinking was never pleasant for a whole host of reasons. Your proximity to the Fog gate helped push it away though. What was in there was surprisingly helpful, you'd found out a while ago. The whispers helped you sleep, for what little amount you did that anyway.

A quick rinse and dip was all you had patience for today. Can't overuse the soap… again. Drying off, you flicked the towel over the bar to your left and got dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt. Today is a blue day, you quickly decided as you pulled everything on. It was something of a nice start to the day to be back in your room now that that meaty vampire fucker was back in his lair.

Honestly, that fight of his was awful. Muttering about the indignity of 'centuries old critters getting their ass beaten black and blue' you tramped across the balcony and to the stairs. Walking down you made a beeline for the kitchen and food. You always took the option to eat, when you could. You weren't always sure when the next chance would be after all. And certain habits die hard.

Especially when you agreed with them.

Your musing was interrupted as you realized something warm and thick was flowing over your hand. Jerking back to reality with an eep! you stared at your appendage and the innocent clear little water droplets running down your palm. You thumped your fist into your forehead as you grumbled to yourself.

"... I fucking hate that memory…" You push your wet hand across forehead and pull your hair back with a frustrated grunt. Just water.

Hunting up some cereal, milk, and a bowl, you crunched through a simple breakfast, because screw making anything complicated while you were in a mood. I mean really, what was with that entire fucked up group? You mused at your spoon in between bites, eyebrows scrunched up as you stared at your distorted reflection and imagined it as your dream-you.

You were, truthfully, more ticked at the two people at the center of this than at the entire context of the last two days. Operative words being 'more ticked' there. But, anyway, planning how to murder a vampire in his sleep and then find a way to kill the Slayer. Blood and all that goes with the actual murdering...
That thought immediately made you snarl. Guzzling down the rest of your food you dropped the bowl into the sink with a thunk. Blowing out a breath, you leaned on the counter to deliberate over what you were going to do today.

"Wasn't I trying to distract myself?" You said to the air in front of your nose as you looked up. The ceiling didn't really answer, from a certain perspective which you quite liked to have, but the Fog did. Attendance required… it sang into your eyes.

And that call to attention just made my day.

Skipping up the stairs you were in the Sanctum within a handful of breaths.

She was floating regally in the center of the room, book hanging below her hand as she idly perused the pages with half an eye. She looked well today, her expression flat and lips shaping neither a frown nor a smile. That reassuring expression certainly pulled your spine straighter. Can't disappoint her…

You sank to a knee in front of the door easily, waiting for your Lady to speak her will. A half a breath later and the book thumped shut and twirled through the air to float beside her head. The weight of her black gaze was a comfort on your shoulders.

"Good." Her voice was sibilant and carried a choir of high notes, like bells. "We shall finish the first step today." She said as she folded her hands at her waist and waited.

You knew what she wanted with barely any thought. Pushing up to a standing position, you walked to the shelves, though you wanted to run, and carefully pulled the Glove down from its perch. The thing was still swaddled in its cloth and you were careful as you handled this weapon, wary of what it could do. And you were practically buzzing with impatience, your toes trying to twist themselves into happy little knots like they always do when you are excited.

With a gesture of one hand she directed you to come closer. She hung there patiently while you carefully entered the circle and held the Glove, the cloth falling away. While outwardly unchanged, you could see new things in it. Shadows of plates and threads strung between distant pieces. Hmmm… You wondered at that as she plucked up the weapon with her lower arms and lowered herself closer to the base earth, as she would called it.

You could see her influence all over the piece of armor shift in their motions when she touched it. Like a stream of fluid, running beneath the plates. Going somewhere...an image of something like your dream lay at the end of that path.

A flick of her hand dispelled your focus, and had you making space as she set the dangerous little thing on the ground, gracile feet still never meeting the floor as she did so. There was a part of you that was satisfied just by watching your Lady float, because the grace she had in the air was surreal.

Humming filled the air, and you added your own voice to it without hesitation. As before, the central device lit up, encircling the Glove. The Fog laced into the walls pushed forward, and you watched the outside world grow distant, and less able to meddle with the contents of this room. Hovering in the circle, her mantle hissing over the stones, your Lady beckoned you forward.

Very carefully, you sat at the other end of the ritual space, the Glove set between you. This time the opening wasn't pointed towards you. A prickle on your scalp made you look up.

"This Glove is mine now, in all ways that matter to us." Her gaze held yours as she continues. "Now I gift it to you, as the first step in my desires." The emphasis she put on that last word was delightfully familiar. "But…" She tilted her head, minutely, prompting you.

"But it is not the only first step. It is also the first step in me becoming more than I am now." You do not waver at all in this statement. I know what I want, and it isn't to be just what I am now. I've had quite enough of that for a lifetime. Your Lady seems to know these thoughts. As she should. She nods, and your gratefulness that this being found you makes itself known as butterflies in your gut.

"Yes it is." her voice is quiet. Then her gaze sharpens and she twists, becoming that thing you had seen when she told her stories or challenged and won against the Master which makes you giddy just to contemplate.

"You are so much more than a simple human. This fact is written in your Soul by myself. You will be a Knight." She smiled, a full smile, as she spoke. And the weight of that title pressed onto your shoulders, almost bending your neck. But I want such burdens. They are more than what I had. And so the weight is bearable. Your lady raises her hand, and the book follows her implicit directive to float above it.

Everything is ready now.

You watch the power of your Lady rise up and out and through her like she is throwing open a door. And as it circles, the both of you begin to chant, you following in her lead without need for direction.

"Stat a esse servum, pignerata in
Fidelitatis fidelis.
Quam obedientiae fidele firmumque est et vere est
Ut a Regina.

A stat miles paratus cura superflua eius
Gladio.
Ea fuisse clipeum eius corpus per vices suas ex se
De nulla fides.

Fortis animus ibi erit tu noctis
Rumpe.
Apud eundem, Denuo et dicet ascendens, adhæsit anima eius
Ut Velit."

It hits you like a fist, crushing your face and blotting out your vision with red spots. Through sheer stubbornness you stayed exactly where you were, your breath sawing in and out of you but providing no air. Your hands were crushing into your thighs as you sat under the weight trying to literally explode out of you. Behind the buzzing filling your skull, like what you idly think eating a live wire must feel like, you knew what you had to do next.

So, you slowly reach out with your left hand for the Glove you can barely see. Warm, almost burning metal meets your hand and you grasp at it spasmodically. Its heavy, heavier than the weight in my chest. You can barely lift the Glove at all. But your Lady is there, and you want to be more than what you are.

Very slowly the Glove is lifted, the weight in your chest acting as a strange sort of lever. Raising your other arm is another Herculean task, every twitch of your limbs making the weights you're struggling against grow. You still do it, however.

Then it's the final plunge. It reminds you of drinking wine with your grandmother, that moment right before you tip over. There's a laugh in your throat as you fall in and pass through the image of a bejeweled grail with a splash.

And then everything on your right side is cold. Like you just laid down in a frozen lake. Have I even been breathing? You can't tell around how hard your teeth are smashing together in the mind numbing chill.

Fingers? No reaction. Wrist? A block of numb ice. Arm? Nothing. Then you try to move your shoulder and a wave of needle-like sensation surges down your arm and all of the energy inside your head drains out after it. Like a cup being tipped over.

Clang!

"Hah… hah… hah." You're bent over your knees, chest heaving as the last spurts of your laughter pop out. When you try to rise, and nothing works right, you realize how dazed you are. Nothing seems to be in the right place, especially your right arm. Getting your other hand under you is arduous, but you manage to push up and look around through eyes unobscured by stunning amounts of magical energy.

Latria is there, hovering serenely hands clasped genteely. The kick to her lips and bright light in her eyes tells you she is pleased with whatever's happened. You take that as direction to look at yourself.

Well, I have my legs, that's good. Arms? On your left you got your fleshy arm, as expected, and on your right is a smooth limb of metal plates and chain link and cool as hell spikes. Seamlessly fused with your arm at the middle of your bicep, the spines it previously had become something like a cuff on a fancy ballroom glove. The entire thing seems to have replaced the skin and most of the arm itself.

Wow.

Turning it over you stare at the palm and chuckle. It doesn't feel odd at all. You don't notice any difference at all, which you guess is why you didn't immediately cotton onto the change. Running your hand over the fingers just tells you that it feels like cold skin, that has absolutely no give.

Looking up at your Lady through your frizzy red locks, when did that happen, you meet her eyes and smile.

"Thank you." Your voice is hoarse, probably from the laughter, and quiet. But you still see her react to it. A brief smile of her own, as disturbing as a part of you still finds that expression, while other parts are buoyed by it. You hear her mantle hiss over the stones as she drifts closer, and you feel her cold hand alight on your head.

"Now you can truly serve me, as you were meant to Annie." Her voice is lilting and girlish in a way you have heard only once, when you had so much fun hunting that vampiress. At pressure from her hand, you look up into her pit like eyes, set in their field of pale flesh.

"Do as I wilt Annie. That is my Law, which you have learned so well, and yet it has never been spoken." She looks down at you from where she hangs in the air, and her hand feels almost motherly. "I know what lives inside you… and they are much like what lives in me. They are good." Her tone is musing, whimsical as her gaze goes somewhere else briefly, before returning.

"For now…," you feel a distant ripple on the edge of your sight, but she does not pause for more than a moment. "What I will is that you become my Knight, and invite the Slayer in." Her tone is amused, very slightly, at this development. You nod, almost bowing. And then you rise. The weight isn't gone, but you hold it tight and turn to go.

Leaving the circle is like getting your sinuses unclogged abruptly, and you take a deep breath as you feel the indrawn shriek of your Lady pulling her seeming into place. Then you exit the Fog Gate and the power hanging all around you sloughs off and disappears.

With a second of thought, you turn to your room. Slipping in, you pull your coat off the hook and swing it on in a single motion. Then you trot out and thud down the stairs into the foyer, pausing to slide on your boots besides the door. Opening the door you immediately hear the Slayer and head for the gate.

The stream of muttered, "Ow, ow, ow, ow," makes her predicament quickly apparent. As you waltz across the yard to see what is going on you relax in the warm feeling of the sun on your hair, still slightly wet.

Her stream of pained noises tapers off as you walk into view. Raising your metal hand in a wave, causing it to glint in the light, you call out to her.

"Hey Buffy! I see you ran afoul of our security! Gimme a sec." Your voice is cheerful as you reach the gate.

"Ah, ow, hi Annie." The teen's voice is subdued, her head down as she shakes out her right hand and rubs it with her other hand.

Clank-zzt. You can see her flinch at the noise, fingers briefly twitching, and then look up at you pulling the gate open with your metal hand. Confusion makes her eyebrows shoot up as she stares at that hand. You can see the ward respond to your presence by flexing and opening a way.

"Come on in." Your tone is cordial as you beckon her in with your other hand. She twitches and blinks, her hand falling to her side. Then she seems to get over her surprise and remember what to do.

"Right, right." She shakes her head and walks in around you as you push the gate closed and the ward flexes back into place. Her eyes are studiously not looking at the Glove as she walks besides you to the door.

Hmm, how very uncomfortable she seems. But I can fix that.

You open the door and let her in first, to a quiet "Thanks," from the teen.

Stepping in you dust off your hands, subtle clanking coming from the motion which makes the Slayer unwillingly angle toward you in curiosity. You gesture with it towards the table.
"Have a seat. Your hand okay?" You ask calmly.

She shakes her hand again while smiling awkwardly, eyes darting around nervously. "Yeah, yeah its fine, just tingles. You said your 'security' did that. Do you have a magic electric fence or something?" She bubbles on behind you as you walk into the kitchen, past your Lady's chair. Ah, need to remember to steal the Master's chair. Idle thought passing you grab a pitcher of ice water from the fridge and three glasses pinched precariously between your fingers. The pitcher feels nice in your right hand, the cold is very comfortable on your metal skin.

Humming a little tune you turn the corner and find her seated almost in your Lady's seat, by accident. Normally, this would add onto your desire to murder the fuck out of her, but at the moment that was just an intellectual thing and not a real impulse. The Lady has gifted me her will after all, which I've been following all along.

Setting a cup down in front of her and in front of Latria's seat, you fill hers from the pitcher, her eyes unwillingly following your hand. Once finished you sit down beside her, on her left and pour yourself some water as you respond to her question.

"No, that isn't an electric fence." You chuckle slightly. "Latria set that up." You pause for just a moment, letting her discomfort stretch as you finish pouring. Picking up the glass in your left hand you prop your chin on your metal palm and look at her coyly.

"It's fine to ask about this you know?" You wiggle your fingers on your chin. The Slayer looks mortified to have been caught out, eyes widening, and then probably embarrassed at the inevitability of getting caught out. Something like that, you think, as you make a note to get better at that kind of reading.

She fiddles with her glass, twisting it this way and that before she gives up dawdling and stares directly at the metal hand jutting out of your sleeve.

"Okay, so...what is the story with the cool metal gauntlet-spikey-thingy?" She asks in a rush, one of her hands waving in your direction.

You lean back and stretch said 'gauntlet-thingy' out into the open, beginning to explain with a wiggle of your fingers as the sleeve of your coat drops to reveal the chain and plate on the wrist.

"This here is a gift from Latria. Something she found in her travels and kept a hold of for a while." You set your elbow on the table and start gesturing around loosely with your cool hand as you continue. "I'm helping her with her hunting, and she wanted to give me the ability to make vampires shit thunderbolts and then die."

The Slayer's face blanks as she blinks in surprise, trying to parse what you just said. You quirk a smirk and segue into your next move.

"Don't tell your mom I said that. One girl to another." You say with a wink, sardonic, before becoming serious and your brow furrowing. You look aside, "Poor woman has had way too much recently." That statement amuses the knowledge you have that she annoys Latria, and will thus probably die sometime in the near future. A part of you idly wonders if you will be required for that as you watch the Slayer flinch slightly, though she tries to hide it by taking a drink.

You are sympathetic really, and lean closer to her. She looks discomforted, shoulders hunched up slightly before she sighs.

"I, well, actually wanted to get out of the house, and was curious so… I asked around and... yeah, I guess I ended up here." She says aimlessly with a shrug and a pouty frown, tracing a finger along her drink. Left unspoken is that she got out before her mom could remember to ground her for the foreseeable future.

Which she's likely not going to actually escape, if your memories of your mother are anything to go by, but that's neither here nor there.

The silence on your side is comfortable, but you can tell, it is layered all over her face, that the Slayer is feeling awkward. Why else are you here, little girl? Then she glances around, looking curious again, her gaze dancing past the glass at the head of the table.

"Where is Latria? Is she here?" She asks, and you think she's probably covering for another topic. You are okay with that and deign to answer it honestly.

"She's upstairs in her Sanctum," You wave your metal hand upwards as you take a drink, "...working on some demonology research. I think it had something to do with immaterial creatures." You blink slightly at those words just popping out at the end, and make a note. Speaking up again are you, my eyes?

The Slayer looks interested, and then rapidly loses that interest when you mention 'demonology' and 'immaterial'.

"'Immaterial' huh, is that like, invisible?" She says while making little spooky motions with her hands. You wave your cup, ice clinking slightly.

"More or less, sometimes can pass through walls." You say casually, reclining with your flesh arm over the chair back, hanging onto your cup with your fingertips. She makes a mou of distaste.

"Sounds way too tricky for me. Just give me something I can just, ya know, stake." She says while making a overarm staking motion with one hand. Then she glances at you, and your relaxed posture.

The uncomfortable, for her, silence rises again as you wait patiently. You have all the time in the world. Eventually she seems to find her courage, and seems to hit upon an idea as her eyes twitch between you and your glove. They light up as her mouth springs open.

"Have you gotten a chance to use that yet? The whole 'crap thunderbolts' thing?" She gets out awkwardly, hands fiddling with her glass. Though there's a hint of teenage fascination with 'cool' things under it.

You chuckle. "Just got it today so, sure, why not. You offering some hunting action?" You say lightly, one eyebrow arched. She sags in relief slightly at you being the one broaching the subject and doesn't notice. She nods, blonde hair bouncing.

"Yeah. I figured, hey I'm here, they hunt demons, I hunt demons, might be fun right?" She says, some energy returning to her as she waves her hands around. And she looks at the glove, "And with that it should be a stomp." She grins.

You rub your chin with your right hand, and damn that feels awesome, actually pondering the question while trying not to geek out too hard. Latria may or may not want to come, she might actually be busy come to think of it, if your little premonition blooms into something more sooo…

"I'm willing," The Slayer's face lights up, "Just gotta let Latria know so she doesn't come looking, if she's too busy to come herself." You half shrug. You reach out your metal hand for a shake.

"It'll be fun to work with you. Sundown, central cemetery?" You ask as she gingerly grabs your proffered hand. Wondering at the material slightly as her manicured nails click against the shiny iron.

She smiles. "Works for me. I uh, hope Latria won't be too busy?" She asks, hopefully, as she lets go.

You raise a hand, "Even if she can't go with us initially, I fully expect her to show up later. She wants to see me use this cool thing as much as I do." You say jovially as you wave your doom glove around. The girl rises from her seat.

"Well then, I uh better go back before Mom gets even angrier." She goes to open the door and you rise to follow, causing her to look over your shoulder.

"Let me open the gate for you, so the ward resets behind you." You say as you pass and open the door for her. Following behind her you ponder those two little words you spat out unconsciously. Hmm, I wonder what my lightning would do to something immaterial.

Pulling ahead of her, the pair of you crunch across the yard and reach the gate in companionable silence. As before you reach out with your right hand and the wards recognize you, bowing to a higher power and getting out of your way. They part for the Slayer as she leaves your property. She turns back and smiles with a wave, bouncing on her feet.

"Bye Annie! Thanks for the drink, see ya later!" She hollers as she walks backwards down the street. You wave slightly as well as you close the gate with a clang. The ripple going across your shoulders tells you that your Lady is descending the stairs inside, so you hurry back.

Your trot carries you into the house, past the kitchen table and picking up the used glasses to put in the sink while you rummage around in the cabinets under it for the wine. By the time you are pouring the wine into her glass you can feel her behind you. You finish and turn to look.

And there she is, feet hanging elegantly above the stairs as she trails a hand along the banister, her face flat but her eyes locked onto you. You start speaking and stand attentively beside her chair as you wait for her to arrive.

"You have a few things that deserve your attention, my Lady." She inclines her head, her posture saying you can pause while she seats herself. Thanks for the etiquette lessons grandma. You do so, staying silent until she floats over to her chair and sits. At her raised hand you turn and pull out your own chair at her right hand, where the Slayer sat.

With the both of you settled and your Lady looking curiously at her glass and the bottle on the table, you begin to speak again. "Most of what needs your attention involves the Slayer. She touched the outer ward without being paralyzed. Instead she only received a moderate shock by all appearances, which left her only temporarily in pain." Your Lady's eyes narrow and twitch towards you as a brief hint of teeth reveals her displeased surprise. You clench your metal hand in your lap and return to your murderous thoughts while continuing to speak.

"Further, she wished to go hunting with me. After teasing out that desire with an offer of my own, in accordance with your will, she accepted." At this your Lady's eyes and lips return to neutrality and she tilts her head right. A clear sign of interest and acceptance.

"I will share your presence then, as we did while I hunted the Rat King." Her voice tinkles and whispers in your ears as her porcelain lips shape the words and she reaches for the glass with an upper hand. "What more is there for you to tell me, my Knight?" She says as she bares her teeth. She wants whatever you have to say.

"Premonition in unconscious words. An immaterial invader is coming to your town, soon." You are absolutely confident in this, though you wish you had a better grasp on your sight so you could say more about whatever was coming.

"Hmm…" She hums in thought, her eyes still attentive, until she takes an idle sip of the wine. Then her eyes widen and her posture tenses. The wine is then tipped back into her throat without a breath, the column of her throat staying entirely unmoved. "Hmm… more." She demands when finished, and you happily comply, filling the glass again. She takes it again, her fingers clinking on her chair arm as she ponders your words and now takes greedy samples of your wine. She comes to a decision when the second glass is empty and sets it onto the table with a deliberate clunk. She looks at you.

"You will guard me while I make a short study of my books then… and lock that girl out." She rises without changing posture, legs dipping down gently as she drifts towards the stairs. You follow. Her mantle trails on the stairs slightly as she floats up them and you stay a polite step behind it. The Fog Gate parts easily around you both and she ghosts over to her seat, settling in it while you take up a standing position by the door.

One hand holding the metal wrist of the other at your waist, you stand and wait for her next directive.

Hours pass, with you trying to coax something more out of your sight, as you guard your Lady and contemplate how to defeat the Master should he present himself before you, since they go hand in hand.

Unfortunately, your sight has been unhelpful and you haven't succeeded in getting anything thus far. Now someone in your position might be tempted to clench a hand or sigh or grind their teeth in response to the inevitable frustration. But you stayed close to your Lady as she first perused some of her books, then began gliding along the property wall, magic flaring in her wake, because that's all you really wanted to do right now.

Your Lady had also been reading all this time, books bobbing around her as she methodically goes through one task after another. Currently you are both standing by the front gate, though hidden from the street by the expanse of the outer wall as your Lady puts her finishing touches on the improvements to the wards.

Her stillness right now is the one which makes her look the most like a porcelain statue, out of all of her various postures that you know, in your opinion. The only thing that moves is her hand, and even then it only moves slightly, a finger tapping on her dress every once and awhile.

From the fading light on the back of your neck you know the sun will be setting soon. You do not spare thought to the Slayer, merely waiting until the time you planned to leave arrives. So it is with some surprise that you react to your heart clenching to a stop in your chest as it judders to the side and a vision of a face stabbing into your sight.

"Agh!" Your cry echoes through the yard as your hands fly up to cover your burning eyeballs. You hunch over and take a step back to thump into the exterior wall, the wards cradling you. Ow! Motherfucker! Then you feel the Hellmouth wrap a spikey, dry grip around your throat. It feels like a scaly hand crushing your jugular and the pain is briefly stunning.

Then the cold touch of your Lady brings you back, and you abruptly realize that the feeling is gone. It came and went so quickly that what you were reacting to was just a memory. You breathe. Then you cough and rise to look at your Lady, scanning the yard for threats in the corner of your eye. Her expression is dark, her black eyes sparking with something you can't read.

"Something has changed my Knight. I think our invader has arrived."

You nod slowly, swallowing down the shakes from that horrid feeling. Still watching.

"Go, hunt with the Slayer. I have the means to search for him now, he lacks subtlety." Her tone is that eager hungry thing like it was when you hunted Darla and a part of you despairs that you will not be able to join her from the beginning. But, you can manage.

For now it is time for you to hunt with your new toy.

What does Annie treat her toy as?

[] A horse for her Lady. She uses it as a means to carry herself with power and to reach far and strike powerfully.

[] A sword for her Lady. She uses it as a means to kill, brutally and in the middle of the fight as a sign of her Lady's glory.

Where does Latria look first for this invader?

[] The School. Perhaps the creature was attracted to the Slayer.

[] The Bronze. Does something immaterial enjoy the sound of music? She wishes to know.

---

Weird tidbit for this update: First time I used "scalp" in this entire quest.

Other than that, we're going to be seeing more of Annie this Episode, because really this one is about her in a lot a ways. E: credit to @Lazy Minx for the dream opening.

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