"Thunderheart," the Native American intoned.  He slowly rubbed the back of his index finger against his thumb, and then<em>flicked</em>it, demonstrating how he'd gotten his name as the very familiar snap-hiss of electricity echoed in the small room.  "We may have a potential job for you."  Thunderheart sat up in the chair, leaning forward.  "For the last six months, we've been tracking a Twisted mage across this continent, as well as overseas in the Middle East."<br/><br/>He continued.  "As you're familiar, in Islamic cultures women are forbidden from practicing magic.  This guy, however...he went rogue about a year ago, fueled by zealotry.  He's started<em>killing</em>women who have displayed any sort of magical potential.  He's not a fool, though, he's kept his targets towards the lower end of the spectrum - minor talents and people just starting out.  His death count right now is almost thirty people."<br/><br/>Thunderheart then summed up.  "After he killed a quartet of Ares wagemages, we were put on the case to stop him.  Unfortunately, it seems like he knows whenever we're about to strike, because he up and disappears from the city...the job would be this: lure the Twisted out into the open, and<em>end</em>him.<strong><em><span class="bbc_u">Permanently.</span></em></strong>"