Vlad Drăculea
"He introduced himself as Wiseman, though he claimed it was only a title. He described his person as a potent sorcerer as well, and from what I can tell, the declaration is not a light one. His interest was in supplying equipment, and performing any needed task relevant to his particular skill-set in exchange for payment."
"I see..."
Vlad watched Butler move to clean the room, contemplating on the idea of having a magician in the Order. He was, as a rule, not opposed to it, but magi in general did not mesh well with humans.
"His power at least, is obvious to any with the slightest sensibility," Butler said, respectfully. "And he seemed to me like a fairly serious and well-cultured individual. If nothing else, he may be worthy of your personal assessment, my lord."
"Yes, I believe he is..." Vlad studied the golden dragon intently for a moment. "His inclusion could prove quite beneficial. I will see him when the time has arrived."
Ezra breathed out.
He was surrounded by a circle of blood, but other than that, he was fine. No visible injuries other than his palm, and he hadn't strained himself in winning. His only regret was that he had been forced to use the Lance against humans again. Again, and again, Ezra had been forced to use his birthright, and each time weighed on him.
He had been unable to avoid fighting the two would-be muggers - the threat of violence and killing was enough for his curse to trigger, and his body had moved in response to their guns before he even knew what had happened.
Ezra shook his head, and began to move away, his expression tinged with regret. He'd had enough of fighting for one day. He just wanted to go home and lie down on his bed, maybe stop at a bar and just forget for a little while.
That was when he noticed her, the silver-haired, smiling girl. Something in his blood stirred at her smile, at the jangling of her bells, at the small doll she carried with her. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and for Ezra, that had never been a good sign.
She laughed without noticing him, and was gone. His hackles raised, Ezra slowly peered around the corner she had disappeared from. Unsurprisingly, there was no one there. On the building in front of him, though...
He heard the jingle of bells.
Ezra made his way into the building slowly, looking around at the devastated floor. Blinking, he made for the stairs, not seeing any sign of the girl. It was a little foolish of him, he knew, but it was better to know what she was instead of letting her roam free, he thought.
When he got to the roof, he heard her light, childish voice. She was talking to a trio of young humans, with a blonde woman, a red - and white - haired man, and a... a something next to them.
Ezra squinted at the last, brown-haired man, and for a second, could see something indistinct hovering behind him. Either way, something was definitely not right. Ezra quietly paused in the light cover of snow a little ways behind the girl, looking to to all the world like an awkward, homeless man.
...He wasn't quite sure what to do, but waiting to see what would happen seemed like as good an idea as any. Almost unconsciously, Ezra's right hand curled, his nails barely touching the scabs that had formed there. He didn't want to be surprised.
