"Pathetic," Erika smirked, as she twirled her bejewelled staff between her hands once more before cracking the base loudly against the stone floor, each movement leaving a faint trail of magical flame that hovered in the air for just a second before fading. Such flourishes were not at all necessary for her magic, but putting on a bit of a show was all part of the mysticism.

​

Most wizards might be anxious or afraid to take on the task of killing the infamous mage-hunter known as Phoenix, when so many others had failed and turned up dead or worse. Erika was not most wizards. Even though no one really knew why Phoenix had been able to get the better of so many Mages... nobody even knew who the Phoenix was: Man? Woman? Human? Elf? The mage-hunter was shrouded in secrecy. Erika didn't care, she had never met her equal before. No hunter would be able to overcome her unrivaled control of the arcane.

​

The raven-haired beauty delicately stepped over the smouldering corpse of one of the woefully unprepared thugs that had been hired to slow her down and waved a hand gracefully upwards before her. The sole remaining mercenary screeched as he suddenly found himself suspended in midair by his ankles, held by Erika's arcane telekinetics. The bronze-skinned Sorceress grasped his greasy hair between her dark fingers and forced the upside-down man to look into her exotic green eyes.

​

"Listen here, ruffian," she purred maliciously, "I'm going to give you to the count of ten to tell me where the individual who hired you is hiding or I'm going to start the interrogation by roasting your chestnuts on an open fire. Now, don't dawdle. Tell me where the Phoenix is hiding."

​

To emphasise her point, she snapped her fingers, conjuring a hint of glowing purple flames which she allowed to tickle the mercenary's nose. Erika began to count to ten, but only made it to four before she had her answer.

​

"The rug! Ground floor study! There's a trapdoor!" he screamed frantically, waving his arms and flailing uselessly as he hovered 5ft in the air.

​

"Thank you kindly," she muttered dismissively, before promptly dropping the hired goon straight down to break his neck on the flagstones, his usefulness outlived. The trapdoor was easy to find, the mercenary had not lied, as she knew he wouldn't. Erika hummed to herself as she melted the lock with the tip of her staff, before throwing the hatch open and striding down the revealed staircase into the room below.

​

"Come out, Phoenix," she announced, finding the chamber below empty aside from a neatly made bed and a collection of locked cabinets and wardrobes, "There's no sense in hiding. Your reckoning has co----oooooaaayygh!!"

​

Erika doubled over, her staff clattering to the floor at her side. She screamed a curse as pain shook her body and an immense force pushed her to the floor. Attempting to draw on her magic to propel herself free of the trap, the intensity of the pain only increased with the attempt. Then just as soon as it had started, it was over. The air around her sizzled as she panted for breath. Slowly, she managed to sit up, reaching out for her staff and using her magic to pull the staff back to her hand. Her staff did not move.

​

"Well, well, well," a voice came from upstairs, a voice which could only belong to the Phoenix, "Not so confident with your connection to the arcane severed, I should think."

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Looking for someone to play as the Phoenix. Gender and race up to you. Playing via DMs, non-con, harsh humiliation and degradation preferred. No firm limits. Feel free to take the plot in whatever creative direction you like, creativity preferred :D