[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mL4rEJm.png[/img]
[sub][@Asuras][@Psyker Landshark][@Rune_Alchemist][/sub][/center]
Gunfire, but no nearby ricochet. There were others within the city after all, but perhaps that was no particular surprise. Ilena’s gaze turned towards that flickering torch in the distance, catching its light movements before it disappeared into the shadows of a Manor. Perhaps it was being hunted. Perhaps it had missed by such an embarrassing degree that it decided to retreat before any retaliation was to be had.

Dragan, pragmatic and warlike, took it upon himself to slay the wretch closer by, weaving a rapier from his blood to skewer the beast. Ilena pointed her own index finger downwards instead, and allowed the first digit to fall off. Flesh melted into shadow as it fell, before splattering against stone. Black ink reconstituted itself, the ball of shadow-substance growing tiny limbs and a mouth that opened up to reveal an amethyst eye, oh so similar to her own.

Ilena clicked her tongue, and the familiar darted off like a cockroach, scrambling to investigate the manor that the torchbearer sought. And for the shadow witch herself? She strode on, for the winding path and the destination her Goddess called her to.

It will take time still, to arrive at the church. Time enough for the mud-doll to scout out, and perhaps even track down, the distant stranger.