Rain fell from the slate gray sky in a rhythmic percussion upon the paved streets. The young woman drew the curtain from the window of the miniscule apartment she had learned to call home and peered out towards the gloomy streets outside. She drew her lips into a tight scowl.<span style="font-style: italic">What a terrible land this has become. Perhaps, from the time of itâ€™s creation a seed had already embedded itself beneath these cursed streets and flourished on the hatred and fear which soon followed. </span>She turned her disapproving gaze towards her hooded gray jacket and reluctantly pulled her slender arms through.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">For whatever you think you are doing Quiâ€¦</span>she thought softly to herself.<span style="font-style: italic">You have no true understanding of what your war will bring. There will only be death. There will only be pain. You will have a nation that only fears you greater than they already do without room for reconciliation. </span>She swallowed softly, closing her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts the way that she always did when the mention of Qui came into focus. She turned and headed swiftly down the rickety steps and out into the cleansing rain that fought in a valiant attempt to penetrate her coat.<br/><br/>As she walked she listened to the quiet footsteps of others distorted by the weather. The whispers of stationed guards licked along her ear and caused her care free visage to sharpen. She lowered the hood further upon her face to avoid attention. The tattered edges slowly became dipped in a muddy mixture of dirt, rain, and other indeterminable substances. She headed from the slums towards the market district. Most of the shops had already closed however there was a fervent nightlife and many night vendors that set up in the streets after the day had faded away. She scanned her surroundings once over and caught the flash of something intriguing. She headed towards a small cart with an old man at its head attempting to peddle his wears.<br/><br/>She reached out and lifted a necklace with an engraved fang upon it. She moved closer to take a better look at it; her eyes deepening with a storm burning within. She couldnâ€™t make a scene here, and she knew the risk. Still, the thought of not knowing was too painful to bear. To take that risk in her mind was necessitated solely by her emotions. She gathered her resolve and turned towards the man. â€œNow where did you get this?â€ she said in a low hushed tone. â€œYou must have quite a hunter at your disposal, no?â€