Plots...

[Jirai]

She sat there, in the dark of night, merely one shadow among many. She was up in a tree, stretched out along a branch broad enough to bear her slight weight. Chin was pillowed on folded arms as keen eyes took in everything around her.

Dante would die.

That was the only thought in her mind, twisting around the pain rolling constantly from her injured back.

Dante would die. She would kill him.

Somehow.

Ah, but the problems that presented. It would be difficult. It would be a challenge.

She would do it.

Scarred lips writhed back, baring her teeth in a silent snarl as she swung herself off the tree limb to land in a crouch on the ground beneath. She slid off in the darkness, perfectly silent.

Dante would die.

[Rattrap]

Dante examined the crossbow he'd found on the forest floor. It was a strange design; the band was held back by a red colored crystal that glowed with inner magics and didn't appear to have anything holding it back; forces beyond simple physics seemingly sustained the whole system.

The crossbow had stains of blood, as did the six-foot ranseur that was lodged in the ground just meters away. A battle had been fought here, Dante was sure; no body was left to announce a loser, however.

There weren't any bolts loaded into the crossbow and Dante leveled it at a nearby tree to give it a dry fire to make sure it worked. When Dante pulled the trigger, the effect was surprising: the band that normally launched a bolt was pulling back to its default position, only very slowly, pushing the crystal forward. Embers materialized in front of the weapon and spiraled around each other, quickly accumulating together and forming an obvious ball of fire.

The band finally reached its default and the ball shot towards the tree with all the speed of a normal bolt, but far more power: the tree just about exploded, splintering at the sight of impact and going up in flames everywhere else.

Dante stood there watching it for a moment with wide eyes, glancing at his newly found weapon. Magics indeed.

Slowly, a smile crept to his face. The drow would no longer be able to run.

He would snuff the flame that unlike the higher species, does not give off light but consumes it.

As long as Dante walked, the drow species would lose numbers.

Their evil gods help them if Dante ever found immortality.

[Jirai]

A few days later found the dark elf not in the woods, but lying flat on a bed while the third degree burns covering her entire back were tended to. A bit of fabric was twisted, gripped tightly in one gloved hand.

Jirai had found out about the crossbow the hard way. She was just lucky that she had not gotten hit by the first shot.

But perhaps some good had come of this as well. Charintha had seen Dante, seen what he could do. Maybe, just maybe, the two could form an alliance, work together against the man obsessed with exterminating them.

She closed her eyes, relaxing further as she allowed her wounds to be tended. She would have to talk to Charintha. And hope she came out of that conversation alive, as well.