Out of Character:
Closed to BlackandBlueEyes

Boots beat against the ground at a steady rhythm. Despite the sounds of heavy breathing, the staccato tempo never wavered even as the sight of the fleeing cloaked man continued. The fleeing man moved with purpose, pushing people behind him to avoid a fate worse than death. Her prey’s breathing was labored as he fled as a terrified beast before the charging visage of the determined hunter.

Black hair flowed in the air as a leather-clad drow pushed through the crowd and used a cart to circumvent a choke point. The Mage Hunter rolled to her feet and kept pace with the cultist who was fast tiring out as they rounded a corner. Her hands cut through the air before her as she tried to reach the fleeing man. The crowds seemed confused and widely spread before the two running people as a cry of irritation left the drow's lips.

“She's gonna kill me!” the prey cried as people looked to each other. It seemed the herd mentality took over as no one stopped the drow, wisely thinking to stay out of it. The chase was someone else’s problem, not theirs. The cold winter’s air served as a refreshing experience against her skin as she pushed, gaining ground on the fleeing cloak-clad man.

“Don't run!” she managed as they rounded yet another corner. She took it sharply and was shocked when the man shoved a small crane used for loading carts in her way. She tried to avoid it, but slick ground made for messy footing as she felt her feet slip up to her head and she landed roughly on her back. The cloaked figure rabbeted away around a corner, even as the Drow groaned on the ground.

It wasn't pain she was in; it was indignation.

A hand slapped the wet mud sharply before the woman pulled herself up and checked for more permanent injuries. People were looking at her as if she had grown a second head. Her cloak coated in mud and she clicked her tongue in irritation as she angrily took it off and tossed it on the crane. She leaned against it, trying hard not to bend over as she arched back and sucked in deep gasps of air.

Finally, she muttered, “Thayne bless it. If I get my hands on him I'm taking the cleaning bill out of his hide…” she turned around to see a guard behind her, hand hovering over sword as she looked to the sky for strength.

“Who are you, and why were you just chasing a man through my streets?” The armor was standard, leathers and a metal helmet to denote authority. The kind of armor that looked personally owned with only the helmet being given by the town. Brown hair and brown eyes marked him uninteresting in the Drow's eyes before she sighed.

“Drusilia Liadon, I am a trained Mage Hunter seeking-”

“I know of no drow trained by the Church,” the man said as he drew his blade.

She carefully eyed the sword as she spoke, her tone quieter, “I never claimed membership of the Ethereal Sway, merely that I hunt mages.”

The guard had stilled at the words before he sheathed his blade, “You should come with us, threatening a member of our town is not acceptable behavior for a guest…”

The drowned lifted a gauntlet-clad hand and let a small pendant fall from her hand on a chain, “Even if he bears the symbol of the Briarheart?”

The pendant was a gnarl of thorns, of which was an iron metal chunk, fashioned into a rudimentary heart. The chain was a simple steel one, showing that the owner must not have been very wealthy to afford such a trinket, or perhaps that it was one of many. Either way, the man went wide eyed seeing a clear representation of defiance against the edicts of the Crown.

“Still want me to come in for questioning, or are you going to let me find the asshole before he causes you real problems?”