"Oh, Durandel... you should have said something."

Storm had no honest clue who the shadowy figure was that had led the failed ambush in the woods, but this stranger's sanctimony was enough to drive a resolution in the wizard to offer him an escort to the next plane. To presume that Storm or Shinsou had abandoned Whitevale was false and baseless, and though there was merit in the logic (as they had quite literally vanished into thin air), the supposition was insulting. Whitevale had represented effort - a geniune, honest effort - of the tandem to lead a city into profitability, health, and wealth. Trade had flourished, exchange rates freed of the onerous tariffs that Radasanth had imposed, and the people of the little town had begun to import technology, fashion, and security to a town that was previously forgotten by time. To imply that the Brotherhood would be so callous, careless, and more importantly fucking stupid to walk away from the generational wealth they were producing was insanity.

Shinsou had asked for thirty seconds; Storm had another plan altogether. The best way to kill a spider in the house was to burn the house to the ground; the magician's prowess afforded such assurances. Without a look, a smirk, or a clever quip, Veritas stepped quickly and clapped his hands, sending a massive blast of electromagnetic energy hurtling towards Durandel.

"WHooo, Shiiii...!

Frustratingly, only a few buttons and a belt buckle blasted backwards from a tuft of fog. The elven enemy had moved nearly as quickly as Mephisto seemed to, planting a seed of doubt that this foe may possess the ability to manipulate time as well. The blast should have torn him in half; perhaps the haste to execute him led to a careless execution by the graying traveler. Durandel had vanished in a scare, but his sinister laughter whispered behind Storm just as quickly. In a flash, down came a weapon - some blue-hued long dagger made of a material that was decidedly NOT metal - and it was caught in the hilt of Veritas' dagger, which burnished a smile from the lithe wizard.

"Not bad, old human." A light cackle was followed by a kick, and Duradel struck Storm in the left shoulder, separating the two with a vicious blow that had nearly missed striking the head of the Brotherhood's elder statesman. The kick had knocked him back a full yard, but for damage had only managed to further infuriate Storm Veritas.

Enough of this bullshit. You're no Mephisto. You're not that fast.

Another kick came at his right shoulder, but Storm was ready now. He moved with the speed of a predatory cat, spinning effortlessly about his own right foot in a low crouch. His left arm struck out violently, feeling the blade of his freshly-sharpened kris dagger slice through the inner thigh of the elf with a feeling of merely slight tension. This was a deep wound; if he had managed to catch the artery on Durandel's inner leg, it would likely prove fatal.

Without stopping his spin, Storm fired his left leg upwards, striking the elf in the chest and knocking him from his feet. The heel hit a light armor breastplate with a satisfying Smack sound, and the pressure from the chet helped Storm retain his balance. He spun to his feet, both daggers in his hands, poised as the viper to strike the deathblow.

Wait on the finish. Not your kill.

As furious as Durandel had made the wizard, something white and terrible was glowing inside his friend. Shinsou had conjured a hellfire that needed a home, and Storm was only too happy to oblige. Driving his left foot into the soft earth, he leapt back from the toppled Durandel, his eyes still fixed on the invasive species, a mouse before the cat.

"Have at it."