The newly formed hall in Virgil's sanctum stood empty before him, unlit and hollow. It's stonework, beautiful and unblemished, save the two dozen scorch marks on the back wall.
Sleeves rolled up, jacket and wide brimmed hat thrown unfavourably in a corner, Virgil readjusted Thorn's ornate holster to a new position before buckling it again. He hoped this new angle would allow Thorn to be easily drawn and brought to bare. He knew this new position left Thorn visible, presented to any that would stand before him. Gone now was any pretence for discretion.
Virgil used his powers of Prestigitation and summoned two small floating illusory targets before closing his eyes, hand poised above Thorns ornate grip.
Muscles sprang as he opened his eyes and went for Thorn. His hand found the grip and he drew, loosing two bolts in rapid succession.
The first came close, finding the wall just to the side of the conjured target. The second struck the spot where the target has been, it already having faded from sight.
Not fast enough, Virgil. He heard the voice, his voice, in his mind.
Whoever is killing the other Shades is going to take you down like a lame dog.
He'd been at it for hours now, a combination of fatigue and frustration had hold of him. This new threat had him worried. Whomever this was had skill and experience that clearly surpassed his own. He felt this new fear trying to take root. His was no magical fear like he had faced with the dragon, no this was a fear that he hadn't felt since early his early adolescence. The fear of losing.
"No," he whispered to himself, attempting to dismiss the tangible fear around him. "No!"
A long moment later came a knock from his door that echoed into the stone hall.
A sudden realization that it must be late. He and Obcaeco were heading out tonight to see if they could shake loose any information of this 'Shade Killer' from the criminal element of Waterdeep.
He strode to the door as he smoothed down his sleeves and donned his coat and hat before using his magics to clean away the sweat and turn the fabrics to the blacks and greys of his alter ego. He paused at the door, took a steadying breath and allowed the mask of arrogance to settle back upon his face before swinging it open.
She stood there before him, in the outfit he had secretly fashioned for her. A vision of beauty and strength.
She smiled her tiny smile. The smile was his to see for no one else.
"Shall we?"
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