[center][h2][color=gray]Emil Simonov[/color][/h2]
[img]https://image.ibb.co/fPao0z/image.png[/img]
[/center][hr]

[color=gray]"Ah, hells, what kind of execution is this?! If I wanted some damn amateur theatrics, I would have just gone to the theater!"[/color] Among the crowd's many hecklers was a wild-looking man with a feral glint in his eyes. Aside from the fact that he was armed and armored, he also wore some sort of oversized wolf's mane like a mantle, a trophy of his past exploits. This man, who began to boo at the execution, appeared to be some sort of hunter to any onlooker. To those perceptive enough, however, those who would notice many small things such as the small vial of silvery liquid he wore as a pendant or the many scars on the palm of his one bare hand, they would be able to piece together that this man was a Krusczek, a monster made to hunt other monsters.

When this Krusczek had began to see others gathering at the corpse, however, he seemed visually displeased. 

[color=gray]"Shit..."[/color] Cursing under his breath, he drew his sword, grasping the blade with his uncovered hand and letting it cut into his palm. As his blood covered his curved blade, it started to ignite like a torch, the blood serving as tinder for the cursed fire burning from his blade. Raising the flaming scimitar like it was some sort of badge of office, the Krusczek began to maneuver through the crowd, keeping it raised and hollering at the manic townsfolk to move out of his way, using his blade as a deterrent for anyone to get in his way; nobody sane would want to fight a Krusczek head on, after all.

[color=gray]"Get away from the corpse, you fools,"[/color] the man with the flaming sword called out as he neared the gallows, putting the flame on his blade out as his path became clearer, [color=gray]"if you get your different smells on her, I won't be able to get a good idea of this witch's scent!"[/color] As if he knew just what he was talking about, he started to [i]sniff[/i] at the corpse, trying to get some sort of scent he can build off of, but also trying to find anything else notable about the girl that could lead him to this Whiteheath Witch. Afterward, he turned over to Lilith, his stoic expression not showing whether he was pleased with his findings or not.

[color=gray]"The name's Emil, by the way, and your guards are bad at their jobs. I'll find that witch for the Reave, it sounds like a good hunt. Never hunted one this cunning before, but there's a start for everything, isn't there?"[/color]
[hider=Rolls and Actions]
HP: 12/13
AC: 16
Ammo: 20 Crossbow Bolts

On his way to the body, Emil used his Crimson Rite in order to invoke a Rite of the Flame on his Scimitar, taking [b]1[/b] point of damage. Using his now flaming scimitar in order to get the town's citizens to move out of his way, Emil ended his Crimson Rite as soon as he found his way to the gallows. Using a Survival check, he began to look for anything he could use to track down the Whiteheath Witch, trusting in his sense of smell more than anything and rolling a [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/11856]12.[/url]
[/hider]