Lucavion raised an eyebrow, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. "What do you mean by that?" His voice was smooth, even, but there was a keen edge of curiosity behind it. "And how can you be this sure it's the man I'm looking for?"
Draven exhaled, shaking his head slightly before taking another slow sip of his drink. "Because I've seen what he can do," he muttered. "And I know exactly what kind of monster we're dealing with."
Lucavion said nothing, waiting.
Draven set his glass down, his fingers drumming once against the wood before he continued. "The organization's called The Black Veil. They weren't here a year ago. Hell, they weren't even a whisper. Then, suddenly? They started moving."
Lucavion tilted his head slightly. "Moving how?"
Draven's expression darkened. "Not the way normal factions do. They didn't negotiate, didn't bargain, didn't even try to play the game like everyone else. They just took."
