[centre][h2]Morgana Faith[/h2][/centre]

As it turned out, when you weren’t being shot at or battling abomination-afflicted cultists, the life of an investigator was terminally boring.

Reading through the confiscated paperwork from the warehouse and the biker gang’s safe house was progressing at a slow pace which was mostly due to the fact that roughly ninety per cent of it was useless. Case in point, Morgana seemed to have picked a pile that was taken from the latter and it was mostly filled with the kind of things you would expect any average household to hoard in their cupboards; old bills, junk mail that was never thrown away, receipts, even a few old photos. Madeleine seemed to be having better luck with her pile, either that or she found this kind of thing more interesting than was sane, and called out to the two of them to ask a question. Before the demon could get to finish her query however, all hell broke loose.

Again.

A quick glance out of the window showed that a car had crashed into the front gates of the OMR building. Any thought that it might simply be a normal car accident was quickly washed away when someone stepped out of the car and began firing on the guards and officers outside. Madeleine was quick to respond, heading for the door, but Morgana stayed where she was; researcher, not fighter. She followed regardless, but at a slower pace, and by the time she was outside the fighting was already over. The demon saw her exit and called her over to examine the body, or more specifically the tattoos covering his body.

She stepped forward and knelt by the body dutifully, though she only had to glance at the markings on the attacker’s body to recognise them. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. [color=c4df9b]“It’s not an enhancement; not unless you consider a complete disregard for your own safety an improvement. He was bewitched, mind-controlled.”[/color]

Morgana pointed towards the markings on the deceased man’s chest, fingertip tracing the lines from his pectorals up to his shoulder and across his collarbone. The pattern resembled a magic circle; or half of one at least. If she rolled him over she imagined she would find the other half similarly tattooed on his back. [color=c4df9b]“Designs like these are used in ceremonies meant to rob men of their faculties, overriding their will and replacing it with obedience to another. Usually the effect is only temporary, requiring regular upkeep through the use of potions; the control also tends to fade quickly should the subject be separated from the caster. They need to be reminded who their master is, I suppose; reinforce the idea in their minds. In other words it’s far too much work to be practical, unless you only intended to use it for short term goals in the first place; or if you’re particularly attached to the idea of owning someone body, mind and soul.”[/color]

Standing up, she stepped away from the corpse and placing a finger to her lips in thought. [color=c4df9b]“I’ve never seen it used in this way before; the components for the spell tattooed directly on to the subjects body. I suppose if you imbued the ink with enough magical energy prior, you could have the effect persist for longer than normal; the tattoos would simply reapply the control whenever it began to fade for as long as the ink had power. You wouldn’t be able to give further commands however; only the one, the first, before sending them on their way. Like an order to attack this building, with no thought given to whether they lived or died.”[/color]

She sneered. [color=c4df9b]“How very… [i]innovative[/i]. I didn’t think the old crones were capable of new ideas.”[/color] Morgana recognised these designs, or at least the basis behind them. How could she not, when she had been taught to draw them in chalk on stone floors as part of her education. She schooled her features into something more passive and turned to Madeleine. [color=c4df9b]“This is witchcraft. English in origin.”[/color]

[@Kumbaris]