Seaching Through The Multiverse

[Ignavus]

The pale moon hung high in the sky of the dark forest, the sounds of wolves howling could be heard echoing in the distance. Fafnir tore through the forest on all fours, his furred flanks slick from exertion, around him he could hear them closing in. With a quick leap the werewolf grappled onto a branch and flung himself high up into the trees. Moments later a massive wolf tore through the base of the tree in a single stroke, causing it to go falling towards the forest floor. Fafnir pushed off from the falling tree skidding to the ground, throwing dried pine needles flying through the air, the werewolf growled loudly as several giant wolves closed in on him. Growling loudly the werewolf rose up on it's hind legs, glowing red energy began to wrap around the beasts arms spreading across his body, with a roar the energy pulsed outward towards the wolves. The wolves cowered back as the energy washed over them, the pack began to whimper, prostrating themselves before the werewolf. With a sigh the wolf man began to shift back to normal, in moments a nude man stood before the wolves.

Thick shaggy black hair hung down to Fafnir's lower back, thick well defined muscles all over his body. Fafnir was a fairly tall man standing at 6'4", however the wolves still towered over him, the werewolf patted the beast on it's shoulder. The large wolf rolled over showing it's belly to the werewolf, Fafnir smiled and rubbed it's belly before he turned away from it, the other wolves began to make their way away from the werewolf they now realized wasn't prey. It was always nice to add new wolves to his growing multi-planar menagerie of wolves, however Fafnir would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. The whole reason for his travels was to find more were-wolves, they had been ran to near extinction on his home plane and had yet to find another plane with any of his kind. With a sigh he shifted back into his wolf form rapidly, before tearing off into the forest again, breathing deeply Fafnir closed his eyes as he ran losing himself in the feel of the forest's natural energy.  Faster and faster he went until he suddenly burst through a shadow into a new world.

Strange scents intermixed in the air as Fafnir sniffed the wind of this new plane, overall he could just smell death, the smell of corpses and death magic seemed to fill the whole of this plane. Fafnir could detect other things though but it was hard to make out anything over the scent of overwhelming decay, shifting back to his human form the werewolf made his way towards the edge of the new forest. From atop the edge of the cliff Fafnir could make out a large city in the distance and a vast stretch of coastland, it would take a little more exploration to determine if there were any of his kind here.

[treetracer]

Solitude had been her desired lot in the existence she thought of as life. Nephalia had provided that for her. True, she lived in one of the larger cities of the province but she was rarely bothered and food was not an issue she’d encountered. She thought of the man, Milton, she favored at the manor, a homely human by many accounts, but the taste of his blood was near perfect and she found she looked forward to a sip of him each time she was able. She’d staked her claim to him when she’d brought him in some twenty years back. It had been in a moment of desperation that she’d found him – when she’d been at deaths door and he’d helped her to her feet. Without his consent she’d bitten him, nearly drained too much of that delightfully thick blood of his, when she realized that she’d stumbled upon something magnificent she stopped and taken him to the manor. From then on, after she’d taken in the lowly beggar and despite all the ridicule she’d received, he’d been given a place there. Few vampires touched him – he lacked many of his teeth and despite fine clothes, food, and regular baths – he still looked like a vagabond. He was good company too and she spend hours chatting with him, telling stories, or discussing the arts and politics. He was her dessert and she knew that she would miss him when his old age finally took him. It had crossed her mind a few times to suggest turning him – but the process was long and she wasn’t sure she wanted to damn him to an eternal life.

Ivy felt the prick of tears at her eyes and she turned her pale green gaze out to the ocean from where she stood, high atop a cliff that looked out over the city. The surface of the water glittered under the bright silvery moon and she inhaled deeply the scent of the sea. She filled her lungs and held it, closed her eyes, and savored the coolness of it though the wind was tinged with something akin to rot. She was accustomed to it but it diminished the beauty of all that was around her. Tonight was a rare night when the mist hung low on the coast but the bluffs around it were clear. Yet, it wouldn’t last. Already, on the distant horizon there was a storm brewing and she knew, from years of seeing them, it would be upon then in the early hours of dawn if not sooner.

Ivy allowed her lace shawl to fall from her shoulders and hang from her elbows. Gooseflesh rose over her porcelain skin and she reached to run a hand through her mess of thick black curls. The ends of which touched the small of her back. Ivy was naturally beautiful, a curse-like blessing that came from being a vampire. Yet, she found she rarely used her glamor save for when she strode about in public and then it was only to hide her ruby eyes and to darken her fair complexion. Unlike some of her kin, she liked humans, but not in the way that most vampires liked them as a food source or a pet. She enjoyed their company – though she limited it to a select few. Most, she’d discovered, did not necessarily like her and were often nasty because of it. She could name three humans she enjoyed the company of, aside from Milton, and that was Emily the baker, Jacob, the burly mason, and his wife Marcy who worked as her maid, and not a soul more.

A movement to her right startled her and she shied away from it in the dark and looked toward it. There, some distance off to her side, was a man. His muscled frame was unclothed and bathed in the pale luminescence of the moon. Instantly she noticed he was strikingly different but in what way she wasn’t sure. She waited in silence for him to move, perhaps to even notice her, but she did little else than stare at him – a handsome creature clothed only in skin.

[Ignavus]

The wind shifted slightly hitting Fafnir from his left side, the wolf instinctively looked towards the new sensation not really expecting to see anything. Deep in the darkness there seemed to be movement, a faint red glow developed around Fafnir's normally brown eyes, it would take very sharp eyes to catch the magical color shift. As the spell took effect Fafnir's vision brightened significantly, there was no longer any shadow in his sight, as if everything was bathed in the light of a noon day sun, nightvision spells were always a must need for a hunter like him. That is when Fafnir saw her, trying to use darkness as her only shield, the werewolf smirked and licked his lips as he observed her. She had a strange beauty with her unnaturally pale skin and long black hair, the look of her spoke of something unearthly, there was quite some distance between them but it was quite clear they were on the same cliff backed by the same forest. With a hungry smirk Fafnir backed slowly into the forest, obscuring himself behind a tree before turning to dart off into the thick forest.

It only took a few long strides to make the man easily lost among all the pale trees, between strides Fafnir shifted, suddenly covered in thick black fur. Fafnir shifted much more quickly, and with greater ease than the werewolves of Innistrad, not that he was aware of it, changing had never been difficult for him a trait of werewolves of his plane. The wolfman launched himself into the air grasping a branch with his long clawed  hands and throwing himself high into the tree cover, fairly well hidden by the foliage. Reaching deep within Fafnir found the root of his magic and then released his spell with a long howl, reaching out across the infinite cosmos for that which was sworn to him. From the shadows of the trees stepped several simple gray wolves, a pack from another world stepped onto innistrad as if they had always been there. The pack sniffed the air looking around and gathering their bearings as they found themselves on a new world, much as Fafnir had. Smelling what he had the wolves began to growl, their hackles rising in agitation to the nature of this world.

Fafnir howled again and the wolves darted off through the forest towards where the werewolf had seen the woman, searching for a sign. The howls would be an unsettling sound for most denizens of Innistrad even this far from the Kessig forests they knew of the werewolves, after all they occasionally tended to wander from their home. The possibility of running face to face with a pack of wolves would be enough to set most of the denizens of Innistrad on guard, and not even a vampire really wanted to run into a werewolf alone. There would be next to no way to know that Fafnir was much more dangerous than another infected by the moon's curse, his mere existence as a planeswalker put him beyond most beings understanding. In the distance the wolves howled having found some sign of their quarry, Fafnir's lips curled in anticipation as he lauched from one tree to the next following the sounds of his pack.

[treetracer]

Ivy watched him fade like a shadow back into the woods and for a fleeting moment she wondered if he had even been there. She cast her gaze back out to the ocean then down to the silvery sand, where the vast sea met the land. Its unusual color still captivated her even after she had lived there for so long. Her mind wandered back to the manor and she decided that she would head there this evening and spend it in the company of some of her vampire sisters and brothers.

A howl split the air. Her heart leapt up to her throat and she whirled around to look behind her into the inky woods. She could not see much beyond the forests edge; her heightened senses were limited in the near total darkness of the wood. She knew little magic as well and she did not know the simple spell that allowed for night vision. She was a Stromkirk Mentor, a lady who taught fencing and was quite good with her weapon. A weapon she did not have tied to herself. Rarely was she ever bothered on this clifftop that she did not think to carry her long, lethal, rapier with her. Rather, she was clothed in little more than a shear shift of black and the delicate lace of her shawl. Though she wasn’t completely defenseless and she leaned over, slowly, to hike up the trailing hem of her slip, her eyes still trained on the woods as she did so. Strapped to her supple pale leg was a stiletto. The holster was plum colored lace, the blade was forged of silver and shown in the light of the moon.
Ivy imagined that she heard the thrum of paws against the thick leaflitter of the forest. Yet, with the wind at her back and the distant thunder of an approaching storm, she wasn’t sure if her ears rang true. What she did know was that something was coming – the sounds of howls filled her with anticipation and she knew she would have to stand her ground. There was no where to run. The cliff was at her back and the forest lie before her. In a sense, she was trapped. Ivy licked her lips and inhaled deeply, ready for a fight, but not truly wanting to engage in one.

Her body jittered with anticipation and she wondered if what approached her were werewolves. She knew of the wolf packs that wandered the area and had even heard of their unfortunate victims, poor humans that found themselves torn asunder by snapping jaws and tearing teeth. It had been some time since werewolves had come this way. The presence of the vampire manor kept them at bay… but there was always the exception. She recalled with a sinking feeling of dread the last time a pack of werewolves had come through this part of Nephalia. Even now she could hear her kin screaming – how much blood had been spilled that night? How many of her brothers and sisters had been slaughtered and how many humans had been caught in the crosshairs of the conflict? Ivy felt nausea turn her stomach and she forced herself to take a deep breath to still herself. She crouched a little, switched the way she was holding her blade, and readied herself for whatever came forth from the woods.

[Ignavus]

Gray fur on pale tree trunks made the wolves darting through the forest hard to make out, even if one could see through the darkness. They watched her from the darkness of the forest, some pacing back and forth watching, in case she tried to brave the forest. It only took a few moments for Fafnir to reach his pack, his black fur blending in well with the darkness as he peered at the woman from his perch. In such close proximity he could make out her scent, it was unique and distinctly not human. It took him a few moments to place the scent, he growled slightly from his perch as he recognized the scent of a vampire. The wolves began to advance slowly from the forest, stepping out into the light tentatively as they encircled the woman on the cliff, the wolves bared their teeth but didn't move. These wolves were best as trackers and weren't much of fighters, Fafnir briefly considered summoning something with a little more bite, and then he got a much better idea. The werewolves eyes flared red from his dark treetop perch, at this distance one might be able to make out the faint light if they were looking up. A long low howl stretched past the werewolves muzzle, releasing the pent up magical energy.

A low thick fog began to roll in coming up to near the wolves underbellies, reflecting the pale moonlight the fog seemed to glow reflecting light a little further into the forest near the floor. The energy of the moon charged the mist and the wolves began to glow as well, absorbing energy from the mist their muscles began to bulge their hackles raising. It was a spell he had learned some time ago, the mist empowered any wolves it touched, Fafnir suspected it would work on werewolves too but it didn't seem to affect him. By now the village would be stirring, the repeated howls would tip them off that something suspicious was going on in their forest. Fafnir briefly considered setting the wolves on the vampire, before any reinforcements could arrive, he wanted to see what she would do though. A low growl came from the forest and the wolves parted slightly giving a clear path into the forests depths, one of the wolves looked at her and then pointed it's snout towards the forest, as if instructing the woman.

[treetracer]

Ivy saw them pour out from the forest, like specters from the grave. Their scent was downwind from her and the ocean pushed hers toward them, scenting the air with her unique aroma. She was surrounded with the cliff at her back and a hundred feet, at the very least, to the ground. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she realized that she was out numbered. Perhaps she might have stood a fighting chance if it had been two wolves or maybe even three but not this many. She’d been devoured before she even fell the first one.

Their bared teeth flashed dangerously in the pale lunar rays. A flash of movement followed by a howl snapped her attention to the canopy of trees and she looked for the source of the disturbance. In the deep darkness of the forest she saw the warm glow of illuminated eyes and she met them with cool determination in her own. Her suspicions were confirmed, he was a werewolf, she was sure but now her mind buzzed with even more questions. Why was he here? What pack was he from? Would he harm the citizens of the city or would they just pass through? Now, with that thought, she hoped the people would stay in their homes, lock and bar the windows and doors, and let the vampires take care of any problems. Ivy doubted anyone in the manor was stirring just yet. They would wait, no doubt, to assess the threat and then move if they needed to. Her life was of no consequence to them – if she died she would only be missed for a brief time. Ivy inhaled deeply and swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. Unnatural mist swirled around her ankle and dimly lit the forest floor and then the pack of wolves parted for her. One jabbed his nose in the direction of the woods and she walked forward, stiletto in hand, and into the stand of trees.

Her eyes never left the gaze of the man who loomed in the slender boughs of an aspen. Her posture was straight, dignified but not arrogant, never arrogant. She was a woman who faced a potential death and she would not die, she decided, a coward. Ivy turned her palms upward, though her right still clutched the silver dagger, and she presented herself in a manner that depicted surrender though she kept herself on edge. She would not be taken unawares.
“Ser,” she started and she found her voice seemed unsettling loud amid the eerie silence of the forest. “Good evening, to you and your pack, I am Ivy,” she greeted him, a flash of a smile graced her lips in a sign of politeness. “I have no ill intent but, if I might so boldly ask, what brings you here to this unorthodox part of the plane?” she asked and watched him. Her body was rigid as she watched him for any sign he might attack her. His vantage point in the tree was her handicap and she continued to have to tilt her head back to look at him. She wondered what his next move would be and she stood, uneasily, under his gaze.

[Ignavus]

When the woman addressed the werewolf in the tree the wolves below growled, Fafnir's lip curled back revealing impossibly sharp white teeth. It would likely be an intimidating sight if the vampire could see the barred teeth, it was actually the closest the were-wolf's face could approximate to a smile. The woman was clever, although he still wasn't sure if she knew what he was, at least outwardly, Fafnir highly doubted the woman had ever seen a planeswalker throughout the infinite multi-verse their kind probably numbered less than a hundred. It wasn't too far a leap for someone to have seen the strange man and then after being beset by wolves assume he controlled them, controlling wolves seemed to be a fairly common skill throughout the multiverse as far as he could tell. It was obvious that the woman wasn't just going to foolishly march into the forest, it was a good sign, Fafnir might be able to use her.

The large black werewolf lept from the tree, landing on all fours before the woman, the glowing mist swirling around him as he landed. The werewolf hardly seemed to make a sound as he landed, before rising up to his full height which brought him to almost seven and a half feet tall. The werewolf put his arms to his side, fingers splayed outward, and ducked his head slightly, as if trying to bow, a strange thing for a werewolf from Innistrad, most of the werewolves from this plane were hardly more than animals when transformed. Fafnir didn't know this though and was searching the vampires face for any sign that she recognized what he was, exploring a new plane was always fun but he was here for a reason after all. The black furred hand with large claws slowly reached out towards the woman palm up, the hand moving towards the silver blade she carried.

[treetracer]

Ivy watched him with her cool green eyes as he moved. Something familiar tickled at the back of her mind as she observed him. His large, hulking frame was, without a doubt, a werewolf but it was the way he behaved that threw her off. If this had been any other were-creature she was certain she would have been torn asunder, especially by the pack that roamed these woods. Yet the wolves that had gathered around her had not made to bite her or devour her. Yes, they had been threatening and had raised hackles and made a fuss but they had not harmed her. 

When the werewolf inclined his head in a crude bow Ivy returned the gesture with a respectful curtsy. In this instance, she took her eyes from him but, a moment later, they were back upon his visage. While the wolves may not have attacked yet, she still was unsure of him. When he motioned for her dagger, however, she hesitated and then something clicked. Her expression lightened somewhat, as if she’d finally realized who she was addressing. She had heard of these creatures before, planeswalkers, and while she had never personally encountered one, she had heard of them. They were so far and few between that they were something of a myth. Her friend, her sister-in-blood, Vivian had encountered one though their crossing had been brief, compared to others. With Vivian the being had gifted her a book and a few insightful words because she, Vivian, had extended lodging to him as he had passed through. He had taken her up on her offered and she’d fed him, gave him a bed, and he was gone before Vivian was awake.

This encounter, Ivy decided, was much more frightening. Provided that her assumptions were right about the creature before her. With his large clawed hand still extended Ivy looked down to his hand and then her own. She gripped the silver bladed dagger tighter in her hand before she loosened it some and raised her head to meet his eyes again. A chill ran down her spine, “Take it if you must, but I will not disarm myself so quickly,” she said and reached to grab a handful of her dress by her hip. Without thought she took the blade and sliced open a long slit into her shear dress to expose the thigh that a plum colored lace garter clung to. It was also the scabbard of the dagger she held in her hand. She slid the cool blade into place then held her hands out before her once more, a show that he was invited to take it as she had said but also that she meant no disrespect. “I hope you understand,” she said with a slight cant of her head in a bow toward him.

No matter his move she swore to herself that she would be ready – blade or no blade.

[Ignavus]

When the woman sheathed her blade that was good enough for what Fafnir wanted, he would have preferred her with no weapon but a sheathed blade was a step in the right direction. Suddenly the black wolf seemed to melt away, like wax exposed to flame, in mere seconds the the nude fair skinned man with the long black hair was before her, the pose not having changed at all. With a flourish of the wrist Fafnir bowed deeply at the waist, his glowing red eyes of the man never leaving her for a moment. The red glow around Fafnir's eyes quickly faded, leaving them a warm brown color, his vision changed with the shift in color. Now he could only see the woman from the luminescence of the full moon.

"Silver is an interesting choice for a blade, with but a simple blessing it could easily be a dangerous weapon against you", Fafnir stated as he rose up from his bow. As the man rose the mist began to fade, taking with it the extra light it had been providing, the wolves seemed to calm and they came in closer to Fafnir, standing as a wall between the vampire and him. Fafnir reached down and petted one of the wolves absentmindedly, the entire pack seemed to calm.

"By chance do you know what I am?"

[treetracer]

Ivy watched as the grand black werewolf before her melted away. The sight was unnerving and it made her stomach twist into a tight knot for the few seconds it lasted and then, there before her was the image of the creature, the man, she had seen before on the cliffside. A glow of red tinged his eyes and then dissipated much like the faintly glowing mist around her. He bowed deeply toward her, his eyes never leaving hers, and she returned the courtly gesture with another equally deep curtsy of her own. Then, he spoke and it rang through her being like a spell. It was the kind of voice that commanded she listen to him and all that he might say and it both frightened and thrilled her. She quirked a hint of a smile.

“Any respectable person who wields a blade knows that one day, spell or no spell, they may have their weapon turned against them,” she said and she absently reached to run a finger over the ornate design on the hilt of her dagger. “As for the silver it’s composed of?” she paused and watched as the wolf pack formed a line between she and the peculiar and handsome man before her. “My second father gave it to me with the words that, one day, I may have use of it and nothing more,” she said and she found her eyes lingering over his well-formed and muscled physique. She chewed her bottom lip absently as she noted, with a flare of heat in her stomach, that he wore no clothing and she did not bother to hide her stare. She too wore little more than a see-through slip. They might as well have been two very undressed beings in the woods, as they were.
Then he questioned her and her eyes rose to meet his.

“I have an idea but I do not wish to be presumptuous,” she sated and dared a half step forward, toward him. “You have an air about you I’ve never felt before, one beyond words,” she said thoughtfully. “You are no mindless werewolf, at least not one of those that I have so frequently encountered in these woods,” she took another half step forward. “I wonder, are you the being of myth? Are you a planeswalker?” she posed though the question was more of a statement and she met his eyes with an intent look almost daring, it seemed, for him to tell her she was wrong.

[Ignavus]

At the woman's response to his inquiry about the necessity of a silver blade, Fafnir's eyes narrowed, he hadn't wanted to know where it came from but specifically why she chose silver. When she called Fafnir a werewolf though a wicked smile played across his face and he licked his lips in anticipation of meeting more of his own kind. It looked like finally after all the years of searching he had finally found a plane that was home to those like him, when she mentioned whether he was a planeswalker though he began to laugh loudly. In all his travels he had never met a non-walker who knew what they were, most planeswalkers kept their nature a secret, the mere fact that there worlds beyond their own was enough to shake the entire foundations of what most lesser being knew. The werewolf figured that someone had let the secret slip, most likely someone from here, Fafnir had heard rumors of a vampire planeswalker, perhaps they had left some sign of their passing here.

"You know more than you should blood drinker", Fafnir responded smiling at the vampire with impossibly white teeth. Deep in the forest the sounds of roused townsfolk echoed, a mob seemed to have gathered, ready to drive out the wolves in the forest. The sounds of shouting caused Fafnir to turn towards the forest breaking his gaze from the woman. The planeswalker didn't doubt his ability to slaughter the gathered throng of humans, however he was trying to keep his impact on this plane minimal, for now at least. With a wave of his hand the gathered wolves dissipated, almost as if turning to smoke before the vampires eyes, as Fafnir hurled them back across the multiverse to their own home.

"You will disperse the mob, do not inform them of what I am", Fafnir instructed as if the vampire were his sworn servant. "If you do not do as I ask I will kill all of them and you as well", Fafnir finished as he approached the vampire. Despite the threat there was no malice in his words, as if it were merely a statement of fact. Fafnir wasn't sure if the vampire had any sway over the humans, but he figured that humans feared vampires on most planes so maybe he could use the woman to disperse them without having to reveal his true nature to the peasants.

[treetracer]

His words made her feel odd. Knowing more than she should? How could that have been the case? His smile did nothing to ease her growing weariness of him and, when she heard the mob, she was grateful for their distraction. When his gaze left hers, she exhaled a soft sigh of relief and then felt the tension from her shoulders melt a bit more as the wolves he’d called upon seemed to dissipate like vapor before her.

When he spoke again he did so casually but he needed threaten her life to get what he wanted. “I will do so,” she said and moved ahead of him and with a flick of her wrist she tossed on the visual allusion that she was wearing more than her shear dress. Now it looked like she wore something more appropriate for the cooler night, a long-sleeved shirt with a corset, trousers, thigh-high boots, and a thick cowl made of pelts. Gloves made of fine leather graced her hands and a sword hung at her side though it was no more lethal than the air around her, it was all just for show.

Ivy came upon the crowd with her hands raised, “My good men,” she said and held up her hands to them, to calm their chattering. “Please!” she called again when their voices remained at an elevated level. They quieted and looked to her, it was a small gathering, no more that twenty men, but they were all mounted and their horses danced anxiously where they were forced to stand. A hunting party, she thought and smiled at them. Philip, the Head of the Guard, a man who was portly and grew more hair on his face than the top of his head, spoke up.

“Ms. Dossett,” he said and held up his torch to look at him better. She smiled and showed him her empty hands. “We heard wolves, feared they might be those werewolves again,” he said and his eyes darted from her to the forest, frightened and nervous. Though it had happened long ago not a single townsmen didn’t know about the massacre that had torn through their town not two decades ago.

“I have taken care of them, it was only a straggler or two. Bachelors looking for some trouble and nothing more. I dispatched them rather easily,” she said and tapped the sword at her hip. Ivy was the Mentor of the area. Not a single soul had bested her in a fight for nearly one hundred years and the people of the area knew it. Phillip visibly relaxed.

“Are you sure, m’lady?” he asked her and then looked to the other men.

“If it makes you feel better, you may patrol the area, maybe set up a few more guards around the area. You shouldn’t find anything,” she said reassuringly and most of the men took her word for it. They knew her to be a vampire, as part of the Manor that sat as a looking guardian on the out skirts of the city. They trusted her but only because she’d given her no reason not to. Reluctantly Phillip nodded.

“I’ll send some of the men to make a lap of the perimeter and I’ll add more men to the midnight watch,” he said and looked back to the small cavalry that had gathered. He pointed to a handful of riders and sent them south east and another group back to the north. Then the rest of them headed back into the city and Ivy was left alone again. She dropped the glamour she held around her and, once more, she was nearly naked in the cool night air. With a quirk of her lips she turned and went back into the woods, back to the man that held her attention so acutely, and stood before him again in the moonlight.

“They’re gone,” she and motioned in the direction she’d come. “Though they’ve now set a troop to patrol the outer perimeter of the city and doubled their watch,” she said and cast her cool green gaze to the city. “They fear the werewolves…” she said thoughtfully and recalled, with a sour taste in her mouth, the events of the massacre and all the death that had come with it.

[Ignavus]

Fafnir waited patiently as the vampire walked into the forest, his eyes flashed red for a moment before he closed them. After a moment the sounds around him began to intensify, the sound of the breeze through the leaves becoming clearly audible, her footsteps sounded as if she were stomping right next to the werewolf. The planeswalker smiled to himself as he heard the vampire talked the men out of checking the direction she had come from, his unnaturally white teeth flashing in the moonlight. When she returned he opened his eyes, they still glowed red around the irises for a moment before fading back to their normal color.

"By your words I assume that werewolves are common on this world", Fafnir speculated as the vampire trailed off. The forests of Kessig lay to the south of them, they dominated much of the plane of Innistrad and werewolves were common throughout, although they didn't often venture far into vampire controlled lands. Fafnir needed to gather as much information about this plane as he could doing it outside while he was in the nude didn't seem like the prime time to gather it though. Despite his wild nature Fafnir was for the most part a fully sophisticated human being, he had passed himself off as simply a powerful battle mage on his home plane, rising to being a minor noble before anyone found out about his condition.

"I know not the laws of hospitality in these lands. As you can plainly see I have nothing with me, but I can offer you much if you will host me and offer freely the knowledge I seek", Fafnir explained offering another deep bow to the vampire before him. The werewolves eyes closed as he broke his sight of the woman for the bow, to him it was a sign of trust and also spoke mildly of submission. This was a gesture of his home world and the message may not pass the cultural barriers between planes, as he rose from his bow he raised his eyebrow as he waited to see if she would accept his offer.

[treetracer]

Ivy watched him with her cool green eyes as he spoke. His handsome form still bare before her but she seemed less distracted by it and more entranced by the words he spoke and the way he held himself.

“Yes, werewolves are in abundance and do roam this area more often than we vampires would like. Though, the last time they were an issue was only two decades ago, an eon for a human, but it feels like yesterday for me,” she said thoughtfully and a frown touched her full lips as she recalled how thick the air had been with blood – from humans, from werewolves, and from vampires. How many of her brothers and sisters had fallen that night? How many humans had become a victim in a needless brawl, one that had, at the time, seemed unprovoked.

When he spoke again it pulled her back from the tainted memories and back to the present. She thought of his proposition and then, when he bowed, she returned the gesture once more and, from the way he spoke and held himself, felt honored by his own display of respect; of vulnerability.

“I have no need for wealth or fame, if you could offer any,” she said and a hint of a smile touched her lips when she realized what she wanted. “If you would repay me in knowledge, by answering whatever questions I have, to the best of your ability, then I will host you through your journey. I ask of this of you with the understanding that, should I cross a line and into affairs you, personally, would not like me to know, you do not have to answer,” she said and hoped he would understand her. She was a learner, she never stopped asking questions, never stopped reading, and never stopped yearning for something more than this plane might have. With years of life spent knowing so much about the world around her she longed for something else, something fresh, and she hoped that he would be able to sate this desire in her. Sate the need to know more than what she already did.