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[I]Illusion,[/I] the woman thought dispassionately, eyeing the form reminiscent of that of her quarry that appeared before her. She cocked her head slightly to the left, examining it, trying to figure out the purpose of its deployment. Maybe if she had not been a magus herself this sort of trick could actually have tricked her to some degree, and maybe if she had not been one of the thirteen that were now twelve it would even have worked to distract her. She was not sure. What was it supposed to do? Due to its shadowy nature it was fairly easy to tell that this was not simply the result of the caster teleporting there, and one would have to be a highly illogical being not to realize that the caster itself was more dangerous than this.
Was it a distraction, then? That did seem like the most probable conclusion, although if this man really was Grim he would know that such a trick was a waste of time to use against one of the thirteen, the people who were not people. Another hint that this was not the Fixer. But if it was the Fixer, surely he would also understand that doing things that she would not expect the Fixer to do would convince her that the Fixer was in fact not the Fixer... Grim was cunning enough to think that far, to be sure. No, she could not say for certain yet, it still might be the Fixer. She had to examine the eyes to be sure.
Now, with the illusionary distraction placed where in was, she thought that she could safely presume that the man had either teleported away from here and had opted to flee the scene, which would be a logical and natural reaction to being faced with an obvious threat... or he would teleport to somewhere behind her, away from where her attention was focused, and try to kill her to remove the threat, which was also a logical and natural reaction to this situation. If that was the case and this really was the Fixer, she might not get the chance to defend herself. Should she draw her weapon? No, not yet. The magically charged glyphs on her hands would suffice to allow her to defend herself for a second until she could brandish her sword. She would have to listen very intently, though, and be able to sense her opponent's approach without hinting that she suspected he was coming. And if a few seconds passed without anything further happening, she would have to assume that he had fled, and chase him.

That much time did not pass, however, nor did the other actually attempt to attack her from behind; instead the man simply whispered in her ear, then spontaneously appeared in front of her, his stance and expression obviously hostile, but not taking offensive action. What was he doing, wasting what logically must have been an obvious chance to kill or decisively wound her just to ask pointless questions? Was this another distraction? Was he trying to confuse her? Grim would know that all of this would be no use against her, a person who was not a person; a woman who could not feel fear or anger, or anything, but was only ever driven by loyalty to her orders. Could this maneuver serve a purpose to Grim? Could he still be trying to convince her that he was not himself? Perhaps... and this man's eyes - she finally got a look at them when he appeared in front of her - were gray. Not Grim's eyes. But he [I]had[/I] just proven capable of invoking illusions, so she would have to examine them more closely to ensure that they were not a glamour.

The other moved once again, this time to where his illusion had been uselessly waiting, and the woman simply looked to him expressionlessly; at no point during all of his sneaking around, muttering and scowling had she flinched in the slightest, her eyes following him attentively but without emotion. It had been a long time since her emotions had last stirred. It was a requirement to being one of the thirteen that were now twelve that one's emotions were erased, that the person was eradicated so that they could serve their masters' will to perfection. She recalled that the process of doing so had been highly uncomfortable and that she had been opposed to it, and that it had taken years for her to become like this, but she also knew that she no longer cared about it; she did not care about anything but her master's will now.
She realized that the man before her had apparently brandished a weapon sometime during his maneuvering - a strange little weapon, she noted, but most likely dangerous nonetheless - and decided that this was one display of hostility that could not go unanswered. Thus far she had remained still and unimposing as to not provoke the other into attacking her, but now that this man showed blatant aggressive intent it was within acceptable conduct to demonstrate intention and ability to defend oneself. She reached to her left hip with her right hand without taking her eyes off her possible opponent, and swiftly pulled the slim sword with the crystal handle from its scabbard, only to point its tip towards the ground at her right side. A pale golden luminance filled the crystal as her energy quickly established a natural flow through it. All the spells she had memorized were utility-type ones and unsuited for combat, but her unique rune-sword - one that did not have a [I]Unity[/I]-rune - had eighteen runes with potentially combat-oriented effects engraved into the blade, nine on either side. She left her other sword in its scabbard; she was only allowed to draw that if extraordinary circumstances occurred, and was expected to die before she used it unless such circumstances arose. This did not qualify.

Her face remained expressionless as the man asked even more questions, pointless questions, questions she had no obligation to answer. Her gaze did grow momentarily distant at the mention of her master, though, as she mentally recited the entry she had taken from the dictionary about the word. There had been a time when she had felt compelled to speak it out loud, but she had learned to satisfy her compulsion by just thinking it.
How much should she indulge this man? If it was the Fixer, revealing her master's identity would paint him as a target... but then again if this really was Grim, he would already know who she served. [I]Is he really not the Fixer, or is this all a trick? My orders are clear, I must be certain. I must act as though either eventuality is equally possible until I can ascertain one or the other to be true.[/I]
"I serve the Duke of Zerul," she said in an almost disinterested tone. "And he wants the Fixer to stop disrupting our efforts to prevent the Crimson Dawn from acting within Zerul." Simple. True. Acceptable.
"Let me examine your eyes so I can ascertain whether you are him," she demanded again, but this time she added, "or I will have to examine them against your will."