Ixion's retort had mildly surprised Morgan. However, the surprise was due to Ixion's reaction, rather than the red hood's confession of knowing his opponent's race. After all, Morgan had feasted in broad daylight. [i]This one has fast eyes, I see.[/i] But something else brushed aside the now known fact about himself: The vampire's insult had actually struck a chord. At least, this was the conclusion, judging by the sell-sword's body language and his spirit's sudden change of energy. It was heated by anger, edged with personal hurt? The corner's of his mouth lifted in minor amusement, despite the circumstances that lay before Thrainsson. [i]Well, well - looks like he does have emotions[/i] If a vampire could purr, Morgan would have, if the following events had not soured the mercenary's reaction. 

The sell-sword did not make an offensive move against Red, much to Morgan's displeasure. [i]Perhaps, he too does not wish to tangle with someone so powerful…[/i]. At the moment, the sniffer was feeling disappointed, angry, and maybe even a little betrayed, but so had the chips fallen. [i]Someday, your soul shall be delivered for the one you stole, assassin.[/i] Morgan vowed. Clearer thoughts began to pour into the sniffer's mind as he attempted to pay attention to conversation unfolding in front of him. [i]Now that he knows… things could get… messy.[/i] To those who would die quickly, Morgan made no attempts to hide his real self: a vampire. But to those who would walk and live to tell a tale: [i]This needs to be contained.[/i] Morgan gave a subtle, small nod to himself. This "Ixie" needed to die. Unless some sort agreement or professional courtesy was bestowed on the vampire, which Morgan highly doubted. The sniffer was no mercenary, sell-sword, or assassin - just a creature of the night driven by his hunger, his need for blood. [i]But then again… Honor is a strange thing.[/i]

Any other rapid fired thoughts were halted but the mention of Red's true identity (at least it was assumed to be true, as "the Fixer" did not deny the title). [i]Indeed the rumors are true.[/i] While Morgan was more than likely less informed about such an individual, the passing whispers among people, in the market space or tavern had reached the sniffer's pale ears in passing. If the stories were true, Morgan was actually relieved he had not chose to fight the red bound man. [i]Soon…[/i] The thought echoed as The Fixer pushed another theory away. His purpose was unclear, at the moment, but it was to be undoubtedly revealed in the next few moments. 

The Fixer plummeted from view, as if he were taking a stroll through a beautiful park. Morgan's light feet padded to the roof's edge, observing The Fixer's next actions with a growing interest. [i]The accent is false.[/i] A fact stated in Morgan's inner workings. There was no surprise, no other reaction than a factual statement, as if a schoolboy was stating a learned fact. In fact, it was somehow not surprising that this man did not seem to be who he was - already, such things that were assumed true had been false, such as how great his power was, or his initial response to the two threats that were before his person. 

Blue's story was sad - terrible even. Despite his predisposed lack of emotion, the sniffer could not help but have one or two heart strings pulled at. [i]Cursed to be a slave of some cause forever.[/i] Morgan's mouth frowned deeper as The Fixer went into the details of Blue's life, [i]Once like myself.[/i] Roots of a deep set hatred began to gnaw at Morgan's psyche as his mind turned these facts over and over in his mind, [i]Both of these men work for the Duke?[/i] A side glance was cast at The Red Hooded before refocusing on the scene below, [i]And they stand for this system?[/i]

The Fixer closed his book, more or less the burial rights that Morgan had assumed before hand. The added personal note gently brushed away the rage that was beginning to cloud Thrainsson's mind, refocusing him to a new task. [i]The Wanderer freed her, as he freed me to do his bidding.[/i] Morgan's eyes hardened, reflecting like polished rubies as he realized his next mission from his master, [i]Those who imprison the soul should be dealt with, such my captors and the many others - the hand of death will guide them - all of them - to their fate.[/i] The sniffer's grip tightened around his weapon, but he knew that this was not the place, nor the time to smite these two in the name of The Wanderer.

His face would return to normal, as The Fixer reached for Blue's scabbard, and yet another question popped into his mind's eye. Wasn't it strange for Blue's murderer to give her burial rights? It was practically almost a ceremony, complete with her history and the killer's own personal thoughts about his now dead prey. Was he too trapped? Was the man on the same roof as Morgan in the same position? Perhaps Death would avoid punishing the tools that lead to Blue's demise (and more than likely all the other colored numbers similar to her path of life), but as the questions began piling, Morgan would not be deterred from his original thought.

[i]Soon. Soon you will meet my master.[/i]