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The Hotel Imperius' staff called it the Inferno Suite.

Three years ago, after the bellhops finished lugging her suitcases up the stairs, Narcissa Veclis had asked one of the concierges where the nickname came from. These opulent rooms were going to be her home for the forseeable future, and she wanted to learn as much about them as possible. Especially since the suite was a gift from her newest employer, the infamous Nyxvira Bloodbloom. Smiling as if it was the greatest joke ever, the well-dressed dokkalfr had told her, his eyes glittering with delight in the subtle lighting of the hotel lobby. The light elf had glared at the hotel employee for a few seconds, and then she'd punched him hard enough to break his nose. Luckily, the luxurious carpet in the lobby was an appropriate shade of red. Narcissa also happened to be Nyxie's favorite enforcer, and the proprietor of the Hotel Imperius knew it, so the injured dark elf decided not to press charges. Over the next few years, the Inferno Suite, the finest rooms available at the Hotel Imperius, became the only place where Narcissa felt safe. Well, mostly safe.

One of the walls in the suite's living room, the one that faced the city proper, was a colossal bay window. It was far too exposed for Narcissa's taste, but she'd paid a local wizard a ridiculous amount of cash to place alarm wards around the window frame. These sorcerous glyphs would emit a deafening wail if the window was ever broken or opened from the outside. Mystical enchantments aside, the bay window also allowed the light elf to see all the way to Dawn Peak Heights, Santa Somabra's wealthiest and northernmost district, whenever the smog cleared. The breathtaking view no longer impressed the she-elf, however. The only part of the cityscape she cared about was less than three blocks north of the Hotel Imperius. It was the region that gave the Inferno Suite its name. It was a wound Narcissa had personally inflicted on Santa Somabra many years ago. It was a memory she didn't deserve to escape.

The Burned Block.

The afternoon sun lit the elf's angular features as she frowned down at the devastation and sipped from her mug of green tea. Every few months another legion of developers, contractors, and construction workers arrived in the Burned Block, hoping against hope they'd be the ones to revitalize the region formerly known as the Silver Expanse. It was prime real-estate despite the feral animal and vagrant populations that had sprung up after the Great Fire of 1985. The only problem was nobody seemed capable of staying in the charred ruins long enough to accomplish anything. At the moment, the Red Diamond Construction Company was attempting to rebuild one of several collapsed tenements in the region. They appeared to be making decent headway. Biting her lower lip, Narcissa shook her head and gulped down another scalding mouthful of tea. It wouldn't last.

The damage caused by the Great Fire of 1985 was devastaing and extensive. It was also magical in nature, which presented a nearly impossible challenge to those trying to bring life back to the devastation. When Narcissa had unleashed the full force of her pyromantic gifts it left behind potent mystical echoes. The entire block had been consumed by a sea of blue flame, and roughly two hundred people lost their lives over the course of one horrific night. These deaths, not to mention the residual arcane energy in the air, made it difficult for anyone to remain in the Burned Block. The sound of people screaming as they were immolated, the stench of burning flesh, and images of the Somabra Clock Tower collapsing assailed the minds of those foolish enough to linger amidst the wreckage. You didn't even need a strong connection to the arcane to incur these horrific side-effects. Most of the beggars and stray animals living in the region were completely insane, driven mad by years of nightmarish visions pouring into their heads. Tugging at her long-sleeved t-shirt to distract herself, the light elf turned away from the window and the Red Diamond workers scurrying around below.

That was enough self-flagellation for one morning.

Taking another sip from her mug, Narcissa faced the opposite wall of her tastefully furnished living room, and the corners of her lips rose slightly. The wall across from the bay window was dotted with iron pegs and various trinkets, ranging from a polished silver watch to a dozen intricately carved human knucklebones, hung from the metal studs. The countless gewgaws and curios were artfully arranged on a large piece of cork board hanging over the ljosalfr's dining area. Whenever Narcissa invited guests over, which almost never happened, they always asked about this bizarre display. The light elf would smile her slight, enigmatic smile and say, "They are nothing more than souvenirs." It wasn't a lie. They were mementos belonging to the one hundred and fifty irredeemable scumbags Naricssa had killed in her quest for redemption. Her quest to wash the blood of the two hundred people killed by the Great Fire of 1985 off her hands.

Her gray sweatpants swishing as she walked, the ljosalfr prowled over to take a closer look at one of her souvenirs, a headband made of onyx with the words "No Gods, Only Monsters" carved into it. Mankar Deslandra hadn't necessarily asked Narcissa to kill the vampiress running the Gilded Cage while rescuing his daughter, but the light elf didn't regret doing it. Cordelia Kincaid had been a cruel, sadistic bitch of a bloodsucker. And she was loyal to the Nyctaria Family. Cordelia had enjoyed keeping the whores at the Gilded Cage terrified, addicted to numerous illicit substances, and isolated from their friends and family. The only thing she'd loved more than tormenting her workers was her headband. Her beautiful onyx headband.

Smirking at the memory of Cordelia's pitiful pleas for mercy, the light elf finished her tea and headed into the suite's kitchenette. She was trying to decide whether to prepare salmon or grilled chicken for lunch when her red Samsung Galaxy began ringing from its place on the counter. Setting her empty cup down and picking up the phone, Narcissa looked at the name and phone number displayed on the large screen. It simply read 'Boss' and the number was unlisted.

"So much for lunch prep," the light elf muttered, and she hit the 'answer' button before pressing the phone to her ear. All she could hear was the panicked breathing of whoever was on the other end. Narcissa immediately knew who it was. Only one person could whimper in such an obnoxiously high register. Frowning, the she-elf said, "Grezbill, can I help you with something or should I wait for you to find your balls, you sniveling [i]dobeck[/i]?"

"[i]Do-do-dobeck[/i]? Oh, ummm...I mean, hello, Vi-Vig-Vigilance!" the goblin who'd recently become Nyxvira's personal assistant squeaked. "The queenpin wants you t-t-to meet her at the Dawn Peak Heights ap-ap-apartment..."

“Very well,” the ljosalfr said, and she hung up without saying another word. Goblins. What purpose did they serve besides annoying the hell out of everyone? Sighing, the bounty killer fired off two texts. One went to the group of five heavily armed “bodyguards” living in the suite directly below hers. In truth, these men were fiercely loyal to Nyxvira, and they’d been assigned to watch Narcissa’s every move. The Bloodbloom Syndicate's queenpin was incredibly powerful, but she was also incredibly paranoid. The text read: ‘Have a car ready in thirty minutes. We’re due at the Dawn Peak Heights apartment.’ The head of her security detail, a massive orc named Baruch “The Hammer” Varda, sent a terse confirmation back. The light elf sent another text to someone she’d met during her SSPD days, Francis Cain. He was tolerable...for a human. ‘Milady calls. Will be late for drinks at Magog’s tonight. If I make it at all’ the text read. The two former cops had a standing date at a seedy bar just outside the Narrows, though Nyxvira’s orders obviously took priority over socializing with friends. Nyxvira's orders took priority over most things in Narcissa's life nowadays.

Putting the phone in her pocket, the light elf sauntered over to the hallway leading to her bedroom and stopped in front of a large walk-in closet. She opened the white door and grimaced at the veritable wall of cardboard boxes, each one bursting with financial documents, inside. She hated dealing with this, but the daunting sight of all this paperwork would be enough to deter most thieves. And if it didn’t there were other measures in place. Narcissa knew how often break-ins occurred in Santa Somabra, and she had no intention of becoming a victim. She'd spent nearly two thousand dollars on a quality glamour to ensure her most prized possessions remained untouched. 

Sighing quietly, the ljosalfr said, “I have stared into the abyss, and the abyss has stared back into me.” Immediately, a bright green glow lit up the closet and the stacks of papers vanished, revealing a blank, white wall. The ljosalfr waited...and waited...and then she doubled over, a string of curses slipping out from between her clenched teeth. Casting spells, even minor ones like a dispelling charm, was incredibly draining for her. Unlike most light elves, her grip on the arcane was tenuous at best. Panting and wiping sweat from her pale brow, the she-elf stepped unsteadily into the closet and pushed against the back wall. It yielded and granted her access to a small, cubicle-sized room containing her armor, weapons, and other valuables. Running her hands along the grips of her twin pure iron blades, Duty and Justice, the bounty huntress began gathering the numerous components of her "work uniform."

Time for Vigilance to clock in.

[b]45 Minutes Later...[/b]

Vigilance, with her escort trailing behind her like gun-toting ducklings, stepped onto the roof of Nyxie’s Dawn Peak Heights apartment. There were at least fifteen guards, all wearing expertly tailored gray suits, watching over the bloated faerie as she gorged herself by the kidney-shaped pool. An errant breeze ruffled the ljosalfr's hair as she noted the position and temperament of the thugs surrounding her boss. Every last one of them looked exhausted and miserable. Maybe all this Somabra Slayer talk was finally getting to Nyxvira? If this continued then Narcissa’s opportunity to take down the queenpin would never come. Still, she was willing to be patient. Nyxvira would not escape justice.

Baruch, his muscular form visibly straining his slate gray suit, cleared his throat and said, “We brought the Hound for you, ma’am.” This elicited a few chuckles from the other syndicate members since ‘Nyxvira’s Hound’ was one of the few non-complimentary monikers attached to Narcissa. The light elf knew the truth, though. Their laughter was strained and, as she raked her eyes over the guards, most of Nyxie’s protectors glanced away from the elf's cold, gray gaze. Cowards. They were scared shitless of the leatherclad bounty killer. A fearsome reputation was definitely a valuable asset for someone in Narcissa's line of work. It ensured everyone else knew their place.

After brushing her right hand against the elven death mask dangling from her belt, Vigilance approached Nyxvira and knelt beside her chair. “What can I do for you, milady?” she asked quietly, her low-range soprano voice conveying nothing but the utmost respect and deference. Her relationship with the faerie was relatively new, and the wyrmblood intended to keep things formal between the two of them. If she could put Nyxie at ease by treating her like royalty then she would. It was a small price to pay for ensuring the corrupt queenpin never saw Narcissa's blades coming until they were buried in her heart.