Today I leave my home for a mission that will take me away from the people I call family. It isn’t a decision I make lightly, but when Orion Hill asks something of you, you don’t get to say no. He stuck his neck out for me after the incident. He didn’t have to do that, but he did, because that’s the kind of man he is.

So, like I said, you don’t say no.

Today I’m headed to Los Angeles, California. Home of the Roth. From what I hear, it’s hot, dry, and full of celebrities and people willing to sell their souls to become one. Funny that an angel slayer is being sent to a city full of them. But I’m not going there for entertainment. I’m going for something else.

This mission reeks of desperation, and the fact that I’m being sent only makes me fear the worst. The Covens are being overrun. For the first time in our history, there are simply too many threats striking all at once, and every Coven is stretched thin. We knew of the prophecy. We knew the clock would start ticking once the Roth recruited their demon. But this? This was impossible to predict.

The incident. The killing sprees. The business with the way mirrors. The willingness to wipe entire cities off the map. The Infernal has been busy, and all we’ve done is react. I can’t help but wonder when we’re meant to strike instead of scramble. And when that time comes, who will actually be standing beside us?

The Divine continues to bicker and fight. Even now, they still see the Covens as a threat, with only a shared enemy keeping us from turning on one another. Only a few are openly willing to lend us their strength. Some still honor the old pacts, acting as patrons to a handful of our members, but even then, they argue. They hesitate.

I understand why. To us, hundreds of years have passed since Orion Hill stood against the Divine.
To an immortal, what is a few centuries if not a slight change in shade?
Forgive me. I’m getting off track. The mission.

I’ve been ordered to lead a new task force, assembled by the Coven lords themselves. They’re calling us the Headhunters. Each Coven is sending forward a champion, a knight or higher, placing them under my command. Officially, we exist to respond to any threat, to be a team capable of assisting any Coven in any operation. Infernal. Divine. Evergarden. Even our own.

That’s the story, anyway.

The truth, if my suspicions are right, is that we’re here to protect that demon. To see the prophecy through. Whether it’s meant for him or his sister, I can’t say. I can say he’s a cunt, though. That much I’m certain of.
I know the last time we spoke it sounded like I was complaining. Maybe I was. But something about this doesn’t sit right with me. I’ve seen the roster. I know the names. Some of these people could clear a room with nothing more than a whisper of their reputation. That tells me the Covens are afraid. And fear has pushed them to gather their best, all at once.

I’m worried they’re doing it too late.

But what choice do I have? Say no to the man who stood up for me? The man who pulled you out of the Department of Containment and shielded me when everyone else wanted someone to blame? Maybe he knows I owe him. Maybe that doesn’t matter. The fact is, I do.

I’ve finished packing. In a few hours, a shuttle will arrive to take me to the airport, where I’ll meet DuVall. From there, we’ll fly to Los Angeles and head to my new outpost. That’s where the rest will join us. Knights. Captains. A weaponsmith. An armorer. Other specialists, all handpicked by the lords themselves.
All under my command.

I won’t lie. I’m nervous. I’m scared. But I’m ready. The Covens came together and chose me. The pieces are in place now. It’s up to me to move them.

I’ll write again in a week or so, once I’ve arrived. Hopefully I’ll have something good to report. Until then, wish me luck.

Happy hunting.
Russell Fowler, Hill
January 4th, 2008