Bitemarks & Bloodstains

Chapter 1 - Remi

With an afternoon of pointless negotiations behind me, I'd finally returned to Bancroft Manor and only then did the relentless ache in my skull truly begin to ease. Once again, my tolerance for the insufferable whinging of the Society's clientele had been put to the test, this time by an unpleasant sojourn to the Forest of Dean.

My task had been to commence negotiations with a particularly outspoken colony of dryads and while at first I'd tried not to take their hostile attitude to heart, it quickly became apparent they found me utterly deplorable on not only a professional level but personally as well. No stranger to unfriendly clientele, I'm well versed in the handling of heated exchanges and verbal assault, however, this group seemed particularly passionate about their disdain for me and everything I represented.

This was hardly surprising though; if I've learned anything during my tenure with the Society, it's that fairy tales and myths can be remarkably misleading when it comes to the portrayal of mythical creatures and their demeanor. Case in point: nymphs and other beings associated with nature are typically portrayed as timid and rather kindly towards humans, however, in my experience when it comes to protesting the ever-encroaching urban sprawl destroying their precious woodlands these supposedly gentle and compassionate creatures are, for lack of a better word, complete assholes.

Even so, my fear at being imprisoned in the trunk of a tree for all eternity or strangled to death by a vine or other arboreal appendage, had compelled me to keep my opinion regarding such mythological discrepancies to myself. With a whole forest of potential death traps at their disposal I figured angering the dryads with anything that could've been construed as insolence would have proven unwise. As such, I hadn't once interrupted their hate fueled tirade, not even when the aforementioned throbbing pain settled in behind my eyes and tested the limits of my mental fortitude and ability to endure verbal abuse.

Truth be told, I'd be the first to admit their concerns are legitimate, in fact, contrary to their completely unfounded assumptions, I don't detest the environment, nor do I support deforestation or the murder of small woodland creatures. I do, however, find their contempt towards me quite unreasonable seeing as I was merely a liaison and the Society is their biggest, if not only, benefactor outside the Seelie Court. In my opinion, such rancor surely wasn't the most prudent approach especially since they had infinitely more to gain and everything to lose if the negotiations didn't go well. At the very least, such treatment did not inspire me to give them a favourable assessment in my report.

Frankly, if it was up to me, I wouldn't engage in such pointless liaison jobs at all; for one reason or another they tend to go poorly for me, even when I try to be on my very best behaviour.

Thankfully, I'd arrived home and could pass the whole issue off to Miria who could then pass it off to some other unlucky bloke on the Council that would, with any luck, be far more tolerant of the irate ramblings of the forest folk.

With this in mind, my mood brightened, though my headache remained, and I quickened my pace down the corridor to Miria's office to deliver my preliminary report and move on to my next assignment. If I was lucky, it would involve violence, lots, and lots of violence.

Upon my approach, I overheard muffled voices which became clearer as I reached the door. From inside Miria's office someone said, "Don't worry, I can handle it Mir."

I recognized the voice immediately; it was Kiera Maddox.

Kiera had been recovering from life threatening injuries with a friendly troupe of Elven healers in Dartmoor for the past several months so I was surprised to hear her voice. I hadn't been informed of her return, although frankly, I hadn't been kept in the loop at all regarding her recovery, and only had myself to blame for that.