Velentham stared at the cottage doggedly for days. He chain smoked his off-brand, Heifong cigarettes made of the cheapest tobacco. They couldn't harm his immortal lungs, it was a waste of money, but having the cigarette between his fingers like a friend was a comfort, albeit a small one. He watched his cousin exit the doors as cautious as a cat. Any comfort from his cigarette was lost at the sight of Gilean. Bile rose in Velentham's throat, reminding him of the bitter hatred that swirled about in his heart.
He walked back to the path, barely containing a growl. Where that goddamned beggar was, he didn't know. He was under the impression that he had thoroughly worked the mind of Thasmudyan to his aid - that the beggarly man would take Gilean to the lifestream, dispose of him and do Velentham's work, but it had been days and he'd seen no sign of the weakling healer.
The other side was the knowledge that the drow woman was lurking about in the woods. He knew she was there as certainly as he knew there was a pine to his left and right, but he said nothing more to her. She, too, had been a fixture in the trees, a figure desperate as he to get some sort of revenge. A fixture that he might have to finally turn back to... but if she hurt Sanria... if she did anything to endanger his woman...
Velentham growled and paced back to the cottage. He walked up to the door and reached out a hand. Before he could touch the wood a golden shimmer rippled, and Velentham let out a howling curse. Gilean had put a ward on the cottage... there was nothing he could do but wait, and Velentham hated waiting. He shot a ball of energy at the house with another howl of rage and drew in ragged breaths. Both of them - Gilean and Sanria - knew he was there, knew and had cast yet another ward to keep him at bay. A third howl erupted from Velentham's chest, causing a strand of golden blonde hair to slip from it's bind. His invisibility spell was gone, he would be visible to everyone, if only they'd look.
Velentham turned around and stared in Maya's direction, breathing heavily, his silver eyes aglow. If she wanted revenge, if she wanted to do what the beggar couldn't... who was he to say no?
His mind swirling, his madness growing like a black cancer, Velentham headed straight to the spot where the naked savage sat in the mistaken belief she was hidden...
