ânormally such a word isnât ASSOCIATED with my name, usually people are calling me a murderer, or a fiend.â he says, a bit amused by her string of compliments. he appreciates them nonetheless, a brow furrows regardless, she  seems  extremely nervous, or maybe heâs misreading her. he stands across from her, surprised by that remark, âmost of the human population donât even know such evil exists, they turn a blind eye to most things.â he  retorts  quickly, it  was  rare to meet someone in his strange line of work. the order was small, perhaps she simply worked alone.
     â Ah, murderer. I understand that name all to well, though lately I have come to accept my own label as monster. It is a fair one, I must admit. I have produced enough evils of my own... â  Â
     She paused in her speech, eyes flickered to her surroundings. Always cautious she was, always running. Her life was nothing but running and smoke, war and magic. Evanore was not lying, however, she did know of his work - and while she was vain and prideful, she was no fool. This man had power in his veins.  Â
 Â
      â It sometime's takes darkness to fight darkness. Don't you agree? I suppose that is why I have sought you out - in pursuit of the bigger picture. There is something truly great out there, a wonderful and terrifying being much deadlier than these petty ghouls tormenting housemaids. I can feel it in my bones - I wish to lend whatever aid I may. â
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