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Rosanna watched Mariette walk away, before sighing heavily. I disagree entirely, Countess, but...we do need to kill the Duke. She then stepped over and mounted her horse before riding up and offering her hand to Mariette. "Mount up. We can catch 'em better on horseback...unless you want to use your pureblood speed to catch up." she said, motioning towards her.
 
Mariette hesitated a moment before taking Rosanna's hand. She knew she could run faster than the Dullahan's horse, but she was exhausted from the fighting and from being awake for so long. She climbed onto the horse's back. "I might fall asleep, Rose," she warned her friend.
 
Rosanna chuckled. "I'll make sure you don' fall off. Don' worry." she said, glancing back to her before making sure Mariette's blood case was secure. Then, a flick of the reigns and they were off. Rayham bolted down the cobblestone street out of Grimsby before emerging out onto the dirt road moving west in the direction the Inquiry had gone.
 
Eventually, the rest of the inquiry would arrive at the same location that Ethraeil had. Jakob guided them there, using the residual aura left behind by Tristyn (as well as the powerful lich armor that Ethraeil gave off.) Thirty minutes later, Rosanna would arrive with a sleeping Mariette at her back. Cassandra was long gone, taking Valeria, Wesley, and the sword with her. Sir Tristyn was also gone, but the group knew where he was headed. Peltragow, likely to see the Duke at his mansion there in the territorial seat.

"We should head back. Gather our stuff, come up with a plan or somethin'. Get some rest." said Rosanna, as she dismounted. She looked up to Jakob in the driver's seat of the carriage, before gently taking Mariette's sleeping form off the horse. "I'm gonna put 'er inside the carriage. She needs the rest." she said, before walking over and placing Mariette inside across from Aleister. She also set Mariette's blood case inside with her, before shutting the door.

The group eventually made their way back to Grimsby, in dour moods after the events of the night. The weapon they needed to kill the Duke was likely in the hands of the Duke now, as well as the Senior Inquisitor and another of their own. They'd need a damn good plan if they were to save the two and get the weapon back. And potentially kill Cassandra, the knight, and the Duke all in one go. Jakob spent most of the night assisting the locals in cleaning up the damage and bodies left behind from Tarja's massacre and necromancy. Rosanna also assisted, while the rest gathered their gear and got the rest they needed.

At the crack of dawn, the group got moving. It'd take a few days to get to Peltragow, as they still had to pass through the town of Cullfield and traverse the numerous hills around it before they could get into the flatlands and rivers around Peltragow.

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A Day after the Grimsby incident...

Valeria snapped awake, as she felt something smack against her leg. She found herself in what appeared to be a dungeon cell of sorts, chained to the back wall with cast iron. The room was dimly lit, a pair of lanterns sitting in the two corners away from her barely filling the room with light. Another lantern was also in the room, but was in the hand of an Atracan soldier nearby. Two other soldiers stood near the door of the cell, while a pair of individuals loomed over her. "Finally! I was starting to think I killed her or something." said a female voice. She knew who it was instantly. "...Cassandra." said Valeria, simply. "Good! She's not brain damaged either." responded Cassandra with a chuckle as she stepped back.

Then the other individual spoke up. A male, wearing a black cloak and what looked like a flat brimmed cowboy hat. "Yeah, well...from what you told me, she'd probably be better off dead." said the man, his voice rather rough. As if he had too many drinks of whiskey over the years...or smoked often. "Mhm! Our dear little inquisitor here is destined to become a demon's skin suit." responded Cassandra, with a grin that Valeria could pick out through the dim light. The man chuckled briefly. "That's only if she kills the Duke. Which ain't gonna happen."

Valeria shifted a bit, tugging on the chains. "Keep struggling, Witlock. You ain't gettin' loose." said the man, as he squatted down before her. She could see him a bit better now, making out his facial appearance. "We're gonna let the Duke decide on what to do with you. I mentioned to him that he could test out that nifty sword on ya, so maybe you have that to look forward to. Heard some crazy things about what it can do." He then grinned, and Valeria instantly spotted the pair of vampire fangs in his mouth. "Or he could just let me eat you. Whichever works." he added.

Cassandra chuckled. "Damnit, Archer, you said you'd share!" she said, while she laughed. The man stood, glancing to her. "Fine, you get half." he said, before turning about. Cassandra grinned again, turning her attention back down to Valeria. "Enjoy the last few days of your life, Witlock! The Duke mentioned he'd decide your fate after the Harvest Festival. That gives you about...three or four days?" she said, before chuckling yet again and following after Archer. The other soldier in the room followed, and soon enough Valeria found herself alone in the dark.

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Two Days after the Grimsby incident...

"Holy hell." muttered Rosanna, peering up at the tall buildings and old walls surrounding the city of Peltragow. The group had rode through several blocks of smaller buildings, and had yet to enter the actual city of Peltragow till now. Crossing beneath a large archway into the large lower district of the city. She glanced over to the others, whom were riding their own horses or were inside the carriage. "We should find a hotel or somethin' before we start lookin' about." she said aloud, flicking the reins of her horse to merge into traffic heading inward into the city. The others followed behind, and soon enough they were taking in the sights and sounds of the territorial seat of Grimtham Isle. There were soldiers walking about, giving off a sense of heightened security around the city, as well as various civilians preparing for some sort of upcoming event. A brief pause to examine a sign at a shop informed them as to what it was. "A Harvest Festival?" said Rosanna, reading over the sign before glancing back to the others. There were vast amounts of farmland that they had passed through on the way in, and it was harvest season. Made sense, really.

Soon enough, the group would emerge into the seaside portion of the city. There were large stretches of docks and wharves, where ships were docked or preparing to depart to sea. Most of them seemed to be fishing boats, but there were a few larger passenger ships that were in dock. One of them looked rather exotic, appearing to have come from a foreign land. The group couldn't make out the name on the ship, but decided to refocus on what they were doing as they came to a rather nice looking establishment. 'The Obsidian Lighthouse Inn & Tavern', as it read on the sign above its front entrance, with a black lighthouse etched into the wood next to the name. "Guess this is as good a place as any. We doin' false names here too?" asked Rosanna, remembering that some of the group had stayed at the inn in Grimsby under a false name.
 
"It would be wise to do so." Ethraeil replied under an improvised hood over his head and shoulders, attempting to mask his visage as best he could. Unlike the rest in the group, he would easily stand out to the guards and as such took extra precaution on the way to Porthcrawl to attempt at being inconspicuous. "We lay low and scour the city for clues on Valeria and Wesley's whereabouts, and that of the Sword's, preferably at night. Then, we strike."
 
Camille had continued to be distant over those days of travel, not deciding to engage with any of the inquiry when she did not have to. There were occasional slight burning sensations that she was picking up on in her midsection, where she had suffered the wound from Tristyn prior. Though since she could barely perceive them and due to their sheer infrequency she ultimately thought nothing of it. Not that she had any means to focus, as her frustration was mounting over the situation they found themselves in. The huntress was starting to think that no matter how skilled she was, it would not matter if the gap between combat prowess was as immense as they were. Cassandra could engage and disengage on a whim, faster than Camille could even process, and she thought that her eyes were quite attuned to the movement of her enemies. Then there was that dullahan, who was skilled with a blade and able to slash quite effectively despite his lumbering movements and stature. Normally she would try to distance her mind from thoughts such as that, yet for whatever reason she was finding it more and more difficult not to face the truth.

Are we just marching to our deaths?

Her back was to the wall of the inn as Rosanna posed her question. Slowly she turned her gaze to the allied dullahan, her eyes so intense that it looked like she was going to attack Rosanna. Her ire faded as the lich agreed with using false names, to which she simply shook her head. "There is no point. They can likely sense you or Ehtraeil. If Cassandra can't I am certain the Duke will be able to. Staying in daylight and in public is our best chance of survival right now."

Hiding, waiting... Our only chance to kill the Duke was with that sword, and now we don't have it. How are we to move forward? These monsters never had to work for their ridiculous strength, and at every turn we are reminded of how weak and helpless we are.

Camille stared at the ground now, her arms crossed as her eyes attempted to burn holes in the stonework of the road. The frustration was never-ending, what was she to do? What could any of them do?
 
"That is... entirely plausible. Perhaps I should divert myself from the Inquiry, as to not draw unwanted attention to you lot." Ethraeil spoke. "You are most likely right in that we do not have the element of surprise moving forward. The enemy will be expecting us from here on." He noticed Camille's demeanor however as he brought his gaze to her for a brief moment as he scanned his surroundings. "Do not give in to defeat yet Camille. The Duke still breathes, which is something we cannot allow to persist."

I made a promise as well. A promise I must uphold. he thought to himself before turning his horse to continue moving into the city. "I will scout around. See if I can find anything to aid us." Ethraeil stated before heading further into the city.
 
There was a dull crack as Mariette tilted her head about. She let out a sigh as she finished stretching. She looked to Rose, the same dead-set look in her eyes as in Grimsby. "Giguere is right. Our auras are a dead giveaway, and even when I had Undite's grimoire, I couldn't hide us from the enemy anyway. There's not much we can do except wait for the next confrontation. They might soon pick us apart, mais c'est la vie. You will have everything I have to give. Everything."
 
Jakob spent most of the days since Grimsby contemplating. On his own lycanthropy, as well as on his family. He hadn't been able to send a letter since the manor incident, and he knew that Cecil was probably trying to raze the entire isle to look for him. He hoped that once they were in Peltragow, he'd be able to write a letter to her. That is, if the inquiry didn't fall apart before reaching the town. Despite Rosanna's attempt to lead the group and maintain it, Jakob continued to question if he should stay with the group or not. It wasn't because he was scared of dying in the line of duty or anything like that. But what happened in Porthcrawl, the manor incident, and Oar's Rest continued to bother him. But perhaps the lich was right and Jakob didn't really have his priorities straight.

Once in the city, Jakob looked about Peltragow. It looked entirely disconnected from the dangers that lurked across the isle and had destroyed several of its towns. He looked to the others as they suggested using false names. "Does it even matter at this point? Mariette and Camille are right. They can sense us even if Mariette tried to hide our auras. And lets face it, we're not exactly the most generic looking group out there to hide our identities. The henchmen of the Duke or this 'Maj. Archer' must already know about the blonde Tsavanian, the midget scientist, the scarred rogue, the ghastly noble lady, the vampire priest, or the only black guy from here to Airedale." Jakob looked to his surroundings for a moment. "Its just a matter of waiting to see when they strike unless we strike them first." He shrugged. "If that's even possible to begin with...in the meantime, I'll unpack our stuff in whatever inn you folk want to stay at."
 
"I am not giving in to defeat..!" Camille shoots back, gripping her arms tighter. Her face was that of almost a scowl now, but she kept her facial expression hidden beneath her hood. Her own weakness was bothering her, though she was going to see things through. It was not like she had much of a choice at this point, and Velin had apparently seen something in her that the enemies and the inquiry itself hadn't. While she wasn't the religious type, the huntress recognized the significance of that dream. Or was it merely a nightmare or lucid vision like she had experienced earlier? Perhaps that no longer mattered.

"Ghastly? If you have an issue with me constable, I suggest you say it something slightly more than in passing. Commit to something for once." she spit to Jakob, straightening her leaning stance just a bit.
 
With the luxury of reclining in a carriage with little to do, Aleister wrote his letters while on the trip back to Grimsby before they had set out to Peltragow. It was imperative that someone on the mainland was alerted to the events which were occurring in this dreary land. There were a number of associates known to him that could be helpful, but he chose to write to Bishop Canterleign and Lector Gregorie. Both men were friends to Aleister, and in some ways, the wider cause of... mutual friendship among the mortals and immortals. Canterleign was of the old guard and a surprising ally in the sense of being open minded, and, of course, having the entirety of his station to back up his words to others within and outside the Church. Lector Gregorie was somewhat of a firebrand, and he was quite young compared to his contemporaries in similar positions. Gregorie was passionate and motivated to a fault, and had on more than one occasion caused a scene with the more conservative factions to the point of even being censored for a short time. Naturally, both Aleister and Canterleign were there for the hearing to remove the censor order.

Both letters were amicable but to the point. These were not written for enjoyment, but out of a sense of dire urgency. He made it clear in his words that the situation was incredibly dangerous and unstable, and outlined the role the Duke played in all of this. Aleister debated if he should suggest Gregorie go public with this, but ultimately, he instilled the need for his letters to remain secretive to wider audiences. Only those who needed to know would. Items and people could be moved around quite easily without folks knowing the greater meaning behind it. There were three things Aleister pointed out that they could use - any weapons, items, or artifacts to assist, atleast one unit of volunteer frater militia to handle the zombies and skeletons, and any professionals who could attend to more... difficult work. He was most confident on the milita being sent as there were always people of varying walks of life ready to fight in the name of the Church, but it would take time for them to get here. Even if it was only a few dozen men. Still, they would be needed in the countryside and villages, and if people begin to lose faith in the country and church because they couldn't be protected, then other problems would emerge.

Confident that something would be done, Aleister mailed the letters on their return to Grimsby. He added some extra coin to the order to ensure they would be sent by a fast rider. They did not have the luxury of sitting in a post bag for days on end.

The ride to Peltragow was uneventful, though Aleister spent some time sleeping and day dreaming. When they arrived, news of a Harvest Festival perked him up a great deal. He absolutely adored such mysterious and superstitious festivals. The peasants outside of Whitecliffe, back home, had a tradition of carving faces in radishes and melons to ward off evil spirits during the days of harvest celebration. He could still remember being a child, chasing others through moonlit dirt lanes and dark cropfields with sticks. The legend of old Wilson the scarecrow still unnerved him, even at his age and state of existence....

Once they stopped at the inn, Aleister got out and stretched similarly to Mariette. One could cramp up rather terribly in confined conditions for so long.

"Good heavens you people are so... dreary," he said with a sigh, adjusting his cuffs and jacket which he had changed back in to while he mended his priest habit. "The circumstances we are surrounded by may be rather... lamentable, this is true, but if we lose spirit so soon then we will struggle even more. I suggest remaining vigilant, but there is a festival soon.... And they say evil spirits are drawn to the disheartened."

In truth, Aleister was feeling rather nervous himself about what was happening. It was hard not to feel anxious. But such feelings were not fun to dwell on, and there were plenty of distractions to keep the mind off such things.

Hearing Camille's retort to Jakob made him wince slightly. "Now, dears, please... I am sure the constable did not quite mean what he said." He paused for a moment, hoping to deflate the tensions.

"Marquess, would you like to shop for some paper-mache or masks for the coming festival? I know how to construct my own... I think you would look rather delightful in raven black feathers intertwined with emerald."
 
Jakob looked to Camille, raising an eyebrow. He was ready to snap at her, but he managed to calm his nerves with the thoughts of Lucy and Cecil. "Uh...madame..." He then pointed at Mariette. "When I said ghastly, I meant Mariette. As far as I am aware, you are not ghostly pale." He then straightened his hat. "I meant no offense anyways."
 
Camille was silent for a moment, taking a step back and reevaluating her feelings as she put a few fingers up to her forehead. "... If you did not mean it then I apologize." she muttered, rubbing at her temples in an attempt to calm herself down. What was wrong with her lately? Her confidence in herself has been constantly rising and falling all throughout the past few weeks, and normally she was rather resolute in the face of such terrible situations. Even if she was mediocre at completing the tasks set out for her, this was a far better life than what was waiting back in Escaria.

In an odd progression of events she soon found herself chuckling, now resorting to cupping her face with her gloved palm before she turned to Aleister. "You resort to picking out a paper-mache mask for me when you think my tensions are high? Really, monsieur?" she asks aloud, finally lifting her head to reveal that she was giving a genuine smile as if she were told something hilarious. "You sound like a mother trying to rein in a little girl on the brink of tears... That must speak volumes about how childish I am being." the huntress says, shaking her head from side to side before pushing herself off of the wall she had been brooding on.

"Perhaps participating in the festival is a good idea. It will let us stick to the crowds and help us spread out to look for Valeria and... Wesley."
 
Mariette gave what appeared to be a sarcastic sneer, flashing her fangs in the process. Lately, she had not been bothering to hide her vampiric features. "None taken, constable. I know at times I can be quite revolting. In fact, if this festival summons evil spirits, then one has most certainly arrived."
 
"Oh for Thiasis' sake, countess!" he looked at her, slightly angry. "You are not revolting at all. Being pale isn't bad at all! Cheer the fuck up already." He adjusted his hat again, grunting a bit before looking back to Mariette and Camille in an apologetic way. "I'm sorry, madames. I guess the dog in me is a bit angry lately..." he said, with a slight chuckle. He then looked to Aleister as he tried to calm everyone. "Al, as usual, is right. Lets go try and clear our minds a bit...see if they have food like candy apples or maybe popcorn!" He looked about at the festival preparations. "...wonder if they're selling turnips."
 
Aleister couldn't help but let out a tiny sigh of relief seeing that Camille was not going to tread a confrontational path at the moment and was instead open to cooling off after the little misunderstanding. Her acceptance of his suggestion also sent a small surge of delight through him, and seeing her smile put a grin on his face as well, it seemed.

"You are absolutely right, mademoiselle, it would work exceptionally well as a disguise while we cover some ground."

He glanced over to Mariette, his smile fading slightly as she was brought into a biting mood. "Countess, I don't think the... tired constable meant it in such a manner. Ghastly can mean all manner of things..." he said, struggling for a moment to recall a positive usage of the word, or at least a usage that wasn't so unpleasant. "I'm sure he was simply referring to your bout of exhaustion since Grimsby. You slept rather well in the carriage."

Jakob spoke up and apologized, and Aleister was quick to nod. "Indeed, I think the festivities will serve not only as a welcome distraction, but as a useful even to disguise ourselves and seek information. I dare say after our dealing with that dreaded military man back in Porthcrawl, we should keep an eye on the troops here. We can always kidnap one and question them," he added quietly.

"Anyways, all who would like to join myself, the Marquess, and the constable in a journey of delight, then please, do come along. Countess... I dare say I think you would enjoy a little trip to peruse the carnival masks, no?"
 
Rosanna's expression turned to one of mild anger as the group first sounded as if they had almost given up before shifting to bickering. Then, Aleister stepped into help calm tensions. "Things may look rough now, but I'm sure we can do it. We just gotta fight harder and smarter. And yeah, maybe this festival may help us relax a bit and come up with some info on where the others are." Then she heard Mariette speak up again about her appearance. She cut her a look. "Countess, you're one of if not the prettiest here. And you ain't evil, regardless of what you done before." Once Jakob spoke up again, she looked to him and tilt her head to the side. "...what's your deal with turnips?"

As Aleister asked about whom would be look for masks and such, Rosanna shook her head. "I gotta get us some rooms here at the inn. I might walk about afterwards." she said, before dismounting her horse. "Anythin' in particular you all are lookin' for room wise? Or do just regular rooms suit ya?"
 
"If we're by the sea, I would rather enjoy a room that looks out over the water, if at all possible. And if the rooms aren't expensive... I do prefer something not stuffy or otherwise minute," Aleister said with only the smallest hint of haughtiness. "After all, it would be criminal to reside by the sea and not have a residency looking over it."
 
"I will pay for my own stay, as I cannot rightly ask any of you to do it for me." Camille said with her hands on her hips. It was not said out of haughtiness, but she figured as a wealthy noble that no one should have to bear the burden of paying for anything when she could spare the money. Perhaps it was a silly thing to harp on considering the situation was dire, but the woman would always have her principles. "A regular room will function just fine - though if the festival leaves things rather busy in terms of lodging, reserve one for me if you can. If they insist on up front payment I shall recoup you later."
 
"Alright, I guess." said Rosanna with a nod, before guiding Rayham over to a hitching post and tying him off. Afterwards, she went inside the large dark oak doors of the inn. The moment she stepped inside, she was greeted with the smell of superb perfume mixed with specially crafted drinks and flavored cigar smoke. That's new. She blinked a few times, before looking about. The inside of the Obsidian Lighthouse inn & Tavern was rather beautiful, with a mahogany bar across from the door to the left with several similar mahogany tables scattered about the tavern interior. There were a few patrons moving about, reading the newspaper or enjoying a morning drink. They varied from fishermen and workers, to well-dressed upper class citizenry. There was the sound of piano music in the air, coming from a black grand piano far to the right, where a well-dressed woman sat as her hands glided across the ivory keys.

Rosanna listened for a moment, taking in the beautiful music, before walking across to where the bar was. There as an attendant at the end of it, towards a set of stairs, whom had a book in front of them on the counter. As Rosanna neared, she noticed that the attendant was in fact a kobale, dressed in a white shirt with a black vest and slacks. A bit surprised, she hesitated for a moment, before speaking. "Howdy! I'd like to get a few rooms please." she said, with a smile. The kobale, whom seemed to have been sitting there asleep, snapped to attention. He sat up in his chair and quickly pulled the book to him. "Yes, ma'am! Khand see if room is available for you!" he said, opening the thick black book and flipping through the pages. Rosanna patiently waited, still smiling as the little lizard searched through the book.

Eventually, he spoke again. "Khand no find empty room. Festival has rooms reserved or filled. Khand sorry, ma'am!" said the little kobale, as he looked up to her with big yellow eyes. Rosanna sighed. "Its alright. I can just check if there's another inn near--" she managed to get out, before the piano music stopped. She could hear the heel clicks of the woman whom had been playing as she walked across the floor towards them. Then she heard her voice, which was almost like velvet. "Khand, please check again. I'm sure there are a few rooms open for our guest here. How many do you need?" asked the woman, as she emerged into Rosanna's vision to her left. She was quite beautiful, really, dressed in a black bowler cap and wearing a nice white blouse shirt with a fancy leather corset and black slacks. In her hand, tucked under her left arm, was a standard formal cane. "Uhm...three would work. Big, if possible, with one lookin' over the bay." responded Rosanna, with a nod.

Khand twitched a bit, before quickly looking again. After a moment of page flipping, the kobale spoke up yet again. "Khand find three! Just like lady want!" he said, looking to the woman in the bowler cap. She smiled, before looking to Rosanna. "I assume for a few nights? What with the Harvest Festival and all." she asked. Rosanna nodded. "Excellent. That will be one gold note each up front. Room service and cleaning is covered in the costs, as well as drinks here at the bar." said the woman, tilting her head slightly. Rosanna eyes widened a bit. Expensive. She drew out and dug into her wallet, pulling out three gold notes before handing them to Khand. Khand took them, slipping them into a metal box beneath the counter before turning the book around and pointing out the rooms. Rosanna signed where she needed to before turning it back around and straightening up and looking to the woman again.

The woman smiled. "Perfection. Welcome to the Obsidian Lighthouse Inn & Tavern. Please, enjoy your stay. If there's anything you need, feel free to ask myself, my friend Khand here, or Mr. Lynch when he arrives later. Lynch is our bartender during the evenings." she said, to which Rosanna nodded with a smile. There was something...odd about this woman. She gave off a powerful aura, which reminded her immensely of how she felt near Sazak back in the forest near Bromwich, but this one didn't seem hostile at all. Was she really a demon?

The woman then shook her head. "My apologies, but I didn't catch your name." she said. "Rosanna McFadden. And you're...?" The woman's eyes shifted, flashing the standard demonic shade of black with golden yellow irises, before turning back normal. "Cordelia Blair. Or Tariun if you would rather use my true name. Rather interesting to see a sentient Dullahan in my hotel." said the woman, with a smile.
 
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Ethraeil had attempted to scout around, but realized it was extremely dangerous when he noticed the amount of guard patrols in the streets among the crowds. He dodged the first couple, but found it to be more and more difficult to avoid their patrol routes as he advanced further into the city. He ducked into a nearby alleyway to avoid attention for a moment before quickly making his way back to the hotel. As he approached the entrance, he felt an aura not from the inquiry resonate in the inn itself. With a degree of caution, he entered the inn to find Rosanna speaking to what appeared to be owner... the person who had their aura resonate strongly in the area. He recognized it to be demonic in nature, not unlike Sazak from before, but why would a demon be the owner of an inn?

He approached with suspicion, overhearing the demon's name: Tariun. "And how does a demon come to own an inn in what is perhaps the most dangerous region of the isle?"
 
Mariette was indifferent to the efforts of the Inquisitors to cheer her up. Only Rosanna knew that Mariette intended to die in Peltragow, regardless of whether or not Duke Ashwood could be slain, and still it wasn't clear that she really believed it would happen. The Countess simply rolled her eyes when Jakob suggested looking for carnival food as a method to keep the mood light. I don't eat, she silently seethed.

"In another lifetime, Aeister," Mariette replied dully, stepping over to the mule tied to their carriage and unhooking the heavy blue case which contained the remainder of the coin she brought along on the trip. The lock was still broken, but the Countess no longer planned to have a locksmith deal with it. Instead, she worked her claws under the latch until she had a grip and ripped the case open, breaking the lock in the process. A number of gold coins cascaded out onto the road and rolled away, and she stooped and picked up the closest ones. The blue case was now empty, as she had reached the end of her supply, but she didn't seem bothered when a few children and other onlookers pounced on a few of the gold pieces which had wound up in the gutters.

Mariette straightened her hat and hem and announced to no one in particular: "I'm off to the telegraph office," and walked away, looking rather daft in conservative dress but with a rapier dangling from her hip.
 
Tariun turned to face Ethraeil. "A friend of yours? A lich...quaint." she said, glancing to Rosanna before looking back to Ethraeil. "I bought this establishment one hundred and thirty-seven years ago. Fair and square, mind you. It used to be a halfway house. I had it renovated and improved. I assume you thought I earned it in a deal? Perhaps killed someone for it?"

Tariun sighed, before glancing towards one of the windows facing the street outside. "I am not like most demons of the Abyss, you see. They thrive on slaughter and other sinister acts. I, myself, am better than that. Perhaps you've heard of the term 'Ascended Demon'? As for why I'm here...I like to observe the mortal realm and its inhabitants. No harm in that, eh?" She then motioned to the grand piano she had been playing before. "I also love to play piano. You should sit in on one of my performances."

As she talked to Ethraeil and Rosanna, the trio could feel another immensely powerful aura enter the building. Rosanna and Tariun looked to the front entrance to see two individuals enter. One of them was quite clearly a member of the Vigilant Order, wearing the traditional garb of an inquisitor with the wide inquisitorial hat. What made him stand out, though, was that his long coat and clothing were of non-traditional color. The long coat was of a dark leather, and had silver markings running up the arms onto his back. The color of his hat matched his coat, but had a red band around it. On his hip, an exotic sword of some sort, long and thin with a slight curve to it. There was barely a hand guard to speak of, shaped in the form of a disk instead of metal spikes like traditional swords. He also carried a revolver on his hip, apparently the standard model of the revolver that Aleister carried with him.

The woman that was with him was the real eye-catcher, however. She was quite clearly from a foreign land, her skin rather pale and her hair jet black in color. It was tied up at the back of her head, and held in place with what looked like two thick sticks. Her outfit was much like a robe, tied off and held in place by a thick band-like belt. The robe itself was colorful, sky blue at the top which turned to a lovely green towards the bottom. The lower part was decorated in designs resembling flowers of varying colors. Rosanna also took note that the woman was wearing what appeared to be wooden blocks for sandals. She also carried her own sword on her hip, though far smaller but still resembling the one the man carried.

"Ah, High Inquisitor Winchester and Lady Masami." said Tariun with a smile, giving them both a nod as they approached. "Good morning, Tariun. I see you have new guests." spoke the inquisitor as he stepped up.
 
Aleister watched Mariette with some uncertainty, rather put off by the woman's attitude of indifference. The woman had certainly changed over the past few days. While she had always been somewhat peculiar in an alluring sense, she was now rather downcast, and not in the typical common sense of the word. It seemed deeper than that. He eyed the coins roll about in the street and the few pedestrians stoop to pick them up and move on.

The inquiry seemed to be taking quite the toll on everyone.

He glanced back towards Camille and the others. "Well, I am ready to go if anyone else is. I look forward to seeing what trinkets await us...."
 
The telegraph office was a building adjacent to the post office and maintained by the same government bureau. Inside, Mariette found herself at the tail of a short line behind the locals, and took a card from the dispenser next to the door.

Juste-

Remember our conversation, years ago, in which you asked if I would ever lose my love of life? If my dream for a country all our own proved too difficult to achieve? Mon ami, that day has come. This inquiry is drowning in the machinations of the infernal, and I've regrettably dipped my toes into those opaque waters. I am a changed woman, but an awakened one. I now see the horror in my prolonged romance with the living world, and my neglected grave calls to me sweetly. Inform the county ministers that my most recent will, drafted on September 20th, is null and void. I will not be placing my title and estate in the hands of Lothaire Fortier, as we decided long ago, but rather in the hands of Lisette Travere, my closest living relative. Moreover I would like to decree a sum of no less than one-fifth of my net worth to the family of Constable Jakob Phillomon of Atraca, and another one-fifth to you, Juste, both payable upon confirmation of my passing. You are my most trusted aide and the executor of my will; I grant you power of attorney if I do not write you again within a week.

I will request to have my remains sent home. Please ensure that their permanent resting place is somewhere on which the sun is always shining.

-Marie


Mariette took her card to the counter and slipped it across the wooden table. The boy behind the counter looked over it quickly and then handed it over to a similarly young man working at the relay. "That'll be five copper pieces, ma'am." the boy said. Mariette placed gold coin on the counter and watched his eyes widen.

"Keep the rest," she said, and swept out of the room. She had already settled on her next destination- a clothier. She would dare face the Duke, Cassandra, or any of their other assorted minions without a more suitable outfit.
 

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