Snippet #2351908

6Malice Whateley

Malice was used to the warm glow of magic but when the spell actually took hold of them and pulled them from their seats it was a totally new sensation, she felt as though she had just been yanked from the world itself the chair beneath her disappearing from under her and being viciously replaced with the hard ground, she had to steady herself quickly to save from falling. “Yes, I can understand why…” Malice growled in answering, taking in her surroundings. They were still within the city limits that much was evident however they were definitely not in the bar anymore, above their heads was a sign she’d seen often in her night time wanderings; Ghost Forge Park.

“So what's the plan?”

“They outnumber us so any kind of frontal attack would end badly for us, what we need is misdirection.” She pulled a small beaten packet of cigarettes from within her jacket and sparked one up, tossing the packet towards Alcyone. “Go in as you would on any other day and go for a wander, find Maccus’ cell and allow yourself to be captured. It is imperative that your coven believe your ignorance and that they think that you have stumbled across his cell by accident. Whilst they are worrying about lying to you I will sneak in behind you and get Maccus out.”

Gesturing up towards the coven’s secret home Malice pointed out one of the downstairs windows. “I will get in through that window, it leads down to the kitchens which usually are warded at night time to stop anyone trying to get brazen whilst the witches sleep however tonight there is some form of gathering going on so the staff are still in there and thanks to their mortal heritage they are hardly going to be getting in the way, nor are your coven going to keep them particularly well-guarded.” Smoke rose steadily from her mouth as she spoke but there was no betrayal of emotion.

“All I need you to do is keep them distracted long enough for me to rescue Maccus, so don’t do anything stupid. No magic duels or anything…” Her cold smile crept across her features. “Not yet anyway.”

((OOC: Did it again. Sorry.))