<strong>Kenneth O'Hannagan</strong><br/><strong>Location: </strong><em>2600 Evergreen Point Road, Medina</em><br/><strong>Time:</strong><em>Early Morning</em><br/><strong>Active Tags:</strong><em>Shadow of A Dragon, Hidden From View, Here Comes The Rain, It's Too Early For This Shit</em><br/><br/><br/><br/>Most nights, Kenneth liked Seattle. For most magical practitioners and otherworldly creatures, the near-constant rainfall was an unpleasant muffler over their talent or an outright drain on their existence, but for him it was soothing. When it rained, the roiling heat in his belly subsided for a bit, and with it the constant irritability and mood swings that came with a direct, if unidirectional, tap into the unfathomable mind of an elder dragon currently dwelling in the mountains of Eastern Europe.<br/><br/>Tonight was not one of those nights. He liked to spend rainy evenings inside, preferably asleep, or else enjoying the creature comforts of his small but cozy and well-stocked apartment. Instead, he was out in the pouring rain, soaked through his best coat, and squishing around the property of a man who had just been murdered while the residual energies of the dead Warden's protective wards clawed at his brain.<br/><br/>He'd woken up abruptly at the sharp pain in his skull heralding an incoming message from Mortifax. It was familiar by now, but the way the dragon took control of his own mouth and vocal cords - a reciprocal of the gift of power that let Kenneth harness and expel raw dragonfire - never stopped being unpleasant or creepy.<br/><em>"The White Council wizard Feng Zhou is dead. Long ago, he stole from my horde a treasure, and I wish its return. Go to his home and reclaim it. Should it be missing, find it, and reclaim it from its new owner."</em><br/><br/>So there he was, on the scene of a crime, looking to commit another. Zhou's defensive wards had been breached or otherwise dispelled, and though the door still hung loosely off its hinges, the interior room was visibly untouched. The shelves were lined with all manner of trinkets and artifacts from across the world in no particular arrangement, though many were surrounded by their own miniature wards that indicated enchantments or spells bound into them. Quickly, he began scouring the collection for the inscribed pendant his master had portrayed in Kenneth's mind - the sooner he found it, the sooner he could get out of here before anyone came to investigate the Warden, who was presumably out back somewhere.