[center][img]http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo63/NMShape/cooltext161459940762053_zps05ywgf1g.png[/img][/center] [center][b]6 Months Ago[/b][/center] The Red Devil, a curious place that exists somewhere within Lost Haven, but exactly where no one could be sure, was a sight to behold. It had the air of a medieval tavern, featuring a bar that sat at the back, whose stock was poured from barrels and into flagons, shelves lined with bottled oddities, glowing elixirs, and a large assortment of mundane and magical reagents, tables and booths scattered with controlled chaos throughout the interior, seating guests of all supernatural walks of life, a large stage where a live band played upbeat folk melodies on traditional wooden instruments, and walls lined with beautiful, archaic paintings depicting many strange and splendid scenes, whose images were invaded by a mischievous, horned sprite. Marie stood in awe of the establishment, her eyes moving rapidly, trying to take in every strange and sorcerous sight. She was greeted with friendly nods from The Red Devil’s guests, who ranged from tall, fae women draped with ivy sashes, to stout, dwarven looking gentlemen, to amorphous creatures of many strange colors and materials. There were even humans and other mortal creatures scattered here and there, making idle chat or paying for some illicit, magical service. “W-what is this place?” she asked, her voice filled with childlike curiosity. Joseph grinned, “A haven of sorts for our kind and those with whom we regularly deal.” He took her hand and led her around the crowded ground floor over to a staircase. “There’s someone here I want you to meet.” Marie nodded and allowed herself to be taken up to the fourth floor, whose sole resident was a large office stationed behind a single, black door, lined with ornate, golden patterns. It was an imposing structure at least three feet taller than herself and several times wider. At its center was the same seal they used to access The Red Devil, a cluster of branches or vines in a wreath with an imp in the middle. To the side of the door was a placard, upon which was the name “Robin Goodfellow,” written beautifully in script letters. Joseph stepped forward and knocked. “Come in, come in,” a response came from beyond the door in a voice that echoed with each word, a voice that sent a slight chill down Marie’s spine. Joseph pushed open the black door and revealed the office space, whose every corner was filled with some form of antique or artifact, lit only by candles and wall braziers. At the far end, across from the door, was a desk, a rather modern looking desk lined with papers, scrolls, books, empty ink wells, and feather quills. Behind the desk sat a handsome man with sharp features, not unlike Joseph’s, short, sculpted black hair, dressed in an expensive looking black suit. Atop the man’s head, protruding from his temple and curving along the side of his head were two large horns, like those of a ram. Upon seeing Joseph, the man stood up, walked around his desk, and hugged him. “Good to see you back so soon, Joseph!” he greeted him in a booming voice, “You get the job done?” “Of course, Robin. I always get the job done.” “You do indeed, which is why you’re my favorite witch in this business!” He chuckled, then looked over at Marie, who was positioned awkwardly in front of the door, still adorning her White Witch costume sans the mask. “And who is this lovely vision?” he asked, moving slowly towards her. Marie couldn’t help but blush, never really good at taking compliments. Joseph spoke up, “Robin, I’d like you to meet Marie, Lost Haven’s ‘White Witch.’” Robin perked up and gave her a wicked grin. “Ah, so you’re the little witch that Chinatown’s been raving about? So good to finally meet you, and look at how she’s dressed! This one has an eye for detail, I know it.” He moved over to her more quickly, taking her hand in his and kissing it. “Hello my dear Marie, I am Robin Goodfellow, proprietor of The Red Devil. You might also know me by my informal name, Puck.” Marie looked surprised. “Puck? As in [i]A Midsummer Night’s Dream[/i]?” “The one and only . . . well, there are a few differences of course. I’m a little more of a trouble maker than ol’ William made me out to be, but I’ve since forgiven him.” Marie just stood there, unsure of what to make of this. She knew that the mysteries of the world, the tales told to children, folklore and urban legends, held some shred of truth, but she hadn’t imagined that she would come face-to-face with them all in the same evening. She had so many questions, but decide to narrow it down to one. “What are you doing in Lost Haven?” she asked, slightly more bluntly than she had anticipated. She qualified her original question with, “I mean, why here? Why not stay in Britain and Europe, why come to Maine, of all places?” Robin smiled. “I like this one, she gets right to the point!” He and Joseph exchanged a laugh and a few looks before continuing. “You see Marie, the answer is actually quite simple: boredom.” “Boredom?” Robin nodded and motioned for her and Joseph to take a seat. He then sat down behind his desk. “I am a restless being, Marie. Some call me a spirit, some call me a faerie, some even think I’m dastardly enough to be called a demon, but any way you spin it, I’ve lived, and will continue to live, for a long time, if not forever. When you’re staring at eternity, you’d be amazed at the type of things you come up with to pass the time. Yes I played the odd trick on others of my kind, but they don’t react to it in the same way. They can fight back, which is no fun. I moved on to playing with humans. Tricking and pranking them, giving them powers at outrageous prices, I even went through a weird, moral phase where I started teaching them lessons if you could believe it. But after a while, it lost its appeal.” “A few centuries passed, mankind fought over religion, enslaved one another, the usual, but there was something missing. Magic was scarce. Sure there were witch burnings, hangings, and beheadings, but that didn’t stop people from practicing. What stopped was their belief in magic and the supernatural. Suddenly man gets a few new gadgets and thinks he’s too good to conjure demons and hex the neighbor’s cattle, and I couldn’t have that. So I went all across the globe, rounding up what magics I could and setting them loose wherever possible. The Old World is still full of magic, cunning folk still mean something to the rural communities. But over here, in America, the ‘New World,’ science takes the limelight. I had a few smaller operations here and there, bringing together the magical communities in different parts of the states until finally making my way into Lost Haven a few decades ago. Crime is also an issue in cities, there were beings who needed some form of residence and a way to sustain themselves, plus all this metahuman nonsense was starting to kick in and upset the locals, so I figured why not set up shop where people were having the most problems?” [i]All of this just out of boredom?[/i] Marie thought to herself as he finished his story, both confused and inspired. There was no point in trying to make sense of the actions of spiritual and immortal beings. Marie knew that Robin could tell what was going through her mind by the look on her face. “So what brings you to The Red Devil, Marie?” Robin asked, leaning in close from behind his desk. “Were you on the trail of our friend Joseph here?” He and Joseph both chuckled. “I was,” she replied uncomfortably, “at least until he explained the situation.” Marie shifted in her seat a few times, thinking over her next words carefully. She tried to come up with some long, heartwarming speech, some beautiful piece of prose that would make them marvel at her intelligence, deliver a sort of oral resume, but once she remembered who she was dealing with, decided instead to say, “And I want in.” Robin leaned back in his chair and laughed madly, wild with excitement. “You want to be a part of The Red Devil?” he asked. Marie gave him a single nod and he responded in the same way. “I like her, Joseph, good job!” He produced a large scroll from behind his desk and set it in front of her, along with a quill. “You want to be a part of the team, Marie? Then welcome aboard! You’ll be in the business of contracts, just like Joseph.” He snapped his fingers and the scroll unfolded. With an eerie smile on his face he pointed to it saying, “All you have to do is sign on the dotted line . . .”