Somewhere in Scotland
The man stood in the forest in a small clearing, completely still. He was wearing a long trench coat that reached down to his ankles, and there was an odd white streak that ran through his otherwise black hair which, stood out against his surroundings that were darkening as night fell. He raised his head slightly to watch the last sliver of sun disappear from the sky and the clearing abruptly became almost pitch black. The man concentrated and cocked his head to the east, waiting for something. There was something moving very quickly in the shadows of the trees towards him, though it made almost no sound at all as it leapt from branch to branch without alerting so much as an insect to it's presence. The man, however, heard it coming and could tell exactly where it would enter the clearing to attack him, but he was focusing more on it's two fellows who he knew were watching him right now - for it was the predictable pattern of these creatures that made them such easy game. They smelt human flesh, or something close to it, and they couldn't resist hunting him. But the reason the man was not afraid was because they were the ones who were running into a trap, not him, and when the one he could hear coming finally came soaring out of the brush towards him he suddenly turned and his long coat flew up in an unnatural way, and enveloped the thrashing creature in its long folds. They had been made to restrain much stronger beasts than the changeling which was struggling now to become free, but it was unable to break the coat's hold. It's companions attempted to attack him, but he had been expecting that and he sent two small knives at the others to stun them, but they kept running and it was all the man could do to dodge their frenzied assault as their claws just missed him. Again and again they slashed, but the man moved with inhuman speed and agility which allowed him to move and parry the blows, even though these particular specimens were all easily three times his size, and would tower over him if they didn't move on all fours. However they didn't fully rise even to swipe their long powerful limbs at him, keeping a hunch that made them appear almost ape like, and they just weren't quick enough and had not expected to encounter a mage in this forest. Meanwhile the first creature was still thrashing around in the folds of his trench coat, but it was not winning and it was getting tired, its movements becoming more laboured until it finally gave up. The other two changelings were not so easily subdued, and they had already started adapting to his techniques and soon they would be able to anticipate his moves, and then it would become dangerous. Not wanting to loose part of his quarry but not wanting to risk his life either, he flipped behind the slightly smaller changeling and rose his hand behind the shaggy coated head; these ones must have been mimicking some sort of dog. Before it could react he raised his hand and a spiralling red beam of energy shot straight through the beast's head from his hand and the thing dropped lifeless to the ground. The man ducked beneath the large sweeping blow of the last changeling, and sent an upper cut into the creature's gut just below the rib cage, and there was a cracking sound as two of the ribs broke. The beast howled in agony and the man took the opportunity to send a volley of blows to it's back, knees and neck - all of the weak spots he knew were his best bet at incapacitating it and capturing it alive, and he was very concerned he might accidentally kill it. One changeling in it's dormant form would get him a small fortune, but it was bad enough he'd been forced to kill one and he would rather have two small fortunes than one. Luckily he didn't do any lasting damage, but the changeling passed out from the pain and the man could finally catch his breath
“You're getting a bit old for this aren't you Lachlain.”
Lachlain looked up sharply from the gigantic haired form at his feet but his expression grew less tense when he saw who had spoken. Goodwin Falcke stepped out of the shade of a cluster of trees around twenty yards from Lachlain. Both their hearing was good enough that that they used normal volume to speak as Goodwin strolled over to him, hands comfortably seated in the trouser pockets of his impeccable suit that looked very out of place in a forest clearing in the dead of night. The man himself who was lean and as tall as Lachlain - though not as powerfully built or broad shouldered - walked with a confident gait that showed he was unconcerned by this.
“I thought you were in London?” Lachlain said with a thick Scottish accent twisting around the words with noticeable suspicion in his tone. He wasn't used to being taken by surprise, especially when it was Falcke.
"Oh, that was just for business"
"And this isn't?" Snarled Lachlain, who noted Falcke's lack of elaboration.
"Why dear Lachlain you offend me!" Goodwin drawled without any real conviction.
"The people down there have been keeping tabs on me for years" said Lachlain with small courtesy.
"You think I don't notice the Tribunal's spies watching me? And the bloody Watchers an all!" He barked, his voice becoming rough with anger.
"And now they send their lapdog in his pretty clothes up to see little old me".
Falcke took his time responding to these less than polite words because after all Goodwin was here with a purpose. The fine tailored man held out a letter in his gloved hand towards Lachlain who took it and turned it over slowly. It was unmarked on the side one might write an address and on the opposite side it was held shut by a large black seal, In the centre of this seal there was one solitary number, four. Falcke watched Lachlain's expression change from mild irritation to subtle concern as he took in the seal. "They want to see you at once." He explained after a minute when it became clear that Lachlain wasn't going to open the letter. Lachlain gazed intensely at the small black numeral then suddenly, as if emerging from a trance, his eyes became sharp once more and he looked at Falcke.
"Well there's no time to lose then." After Lachlain had picked up the unconscious changelings he gave Falcke a quick, sharp nod, Falcke smiled serenely then clicked his fingers and they were gone.
