Fantasy Hunter's Moon: The Sin & Sentence [IC] [CLOSED]

[Doomevil]

After hearing from the gentleman, Wendy had to bow down in respect with a gracious smile. It was definitely helpful with the hectic crowds going on. "Thank you kindly. And don't worry about it, I don't blame them. To be honest, I've learning more about this town as it is. We came far from Florentina, the Grandmaster believed it would a good idea to share the Red Warden's say in the summit," Wendy explained casually.

Hugh towered behind the rookie warden and looked a bit nervous in front of the group of children. In fact, it wasn't because of Wendy talking to new people, but it was himself who had a hard time with regular people. Wendy turned to her boss and introduce themselves, "This is the Grandmaster Hugh Russ," she gestured to the large man. Hugh slowly nodded and extended a hand to the teacher.

 

[Infab]

"Interesting choice for arrival. Certainly flashy...but I'd expect nothing less from the Escarians." said the blonde alchemist, lifting her cigarette to her lips as she glanced out the window towards where the Escarian queen's vehicle had landed. She smiled slightly as she took a drag off the cigarette, exhaling the smoke from her nostrils as she glanced over to the man sitting across from her at the small table in the hotel lounge. The young Duke from Trechtstaat, whom was more preoccupied with the pocketwatch he was holding in his hand.

Catarina frowned. The man was always a bore to chat with, really, even though he was far younger than most of the delegates. The only one younger than he was the Escarian queen herself. She sighed, before standing from her seat. "Enjoy yourself, Steven. Don't sit there watching the clock all night." she remarked, pushing her chair under the table before grabbing up her cane and top hat.

With a twirl and flick, she popped her hat upon her head, and walked toutside the hotel. Not bothering to wait for a response from the Duke. She honestly didn't care as to what he though, or the rest of these politicians. She was here for business, as was the Union. What was said and done here affected business, and she wanted to make sure she had her say. Once outside, she glanced to her right to where a trio of alchemists were standing. Talking amongst one another. With a short, sharp whistle, she got their attention. She lifted one finger, pointing it to the one nearest her, before motioning for him to follow. And he did, rather promptly.

Soon, they were strolling down the street, moving towards where the Escarian Queen had stopped. Interesting...she was visiting the delegation from Nocturne. This forced the Union president to raise her eyebrow sharply. Bold move, Marie-Claire. I commend you for it. She glanced over to see a woman standing in the street, clad in armor and weaponry. She recognized her near instantly: a certain Raven whom made a living hunting vampires.

"Lady Raven, I do believe you're a little out of your element." said Catarina, walking over and stopping a few feet from Camille. As she let the tip of her cane touch the dusty ground, she leaned on it slightly. "No vampires to slay here, unless you're feeling a little suicidal." she said, smirking as she motioned with a white gloved hand towards the hotel the Nocturne delegation were staying in.

 

[Dmaster]

Though she was trying her best to remain calm at this stage Camille did still have her eyes locked on the estate all the way on the edge of town. Despite being a relatively far walk form her position she felt as if she were but a few steps before its door. Aleister was in there, and she knew that for as good as she was at hunting he had a whole army surrounding him at this point. If she could not kill him with weapons, she would just have to kill him with words.

Her thoughts were halted as she found herself greeted by a woman she did not quite recognize, though the hat she wore told her that she was an alchemist. Ever obsessed with those ridiculous hats, Camille had a feeling that this one was quite important among them. "The only one feeling suicidal at this moment would be the fair queen." she muttered in response, finally turning about to look at Catarina more than with just the corner of her eye.

"And I'll have you know that I have traveled all this way to speak at the summit. Though I will be the first to admit that I am out of my element here, yes. Not often I find myself standing in the crossroads of so many lives and backgrounds at once..." Camille states, a hand to her hip as she gestures at the crowd around her. "Never mind this heat. Mon Dieu."

 

[Breadman]

"Theodore Boivin" The teacher shook the grandmaster's hand. "Former archivist for the church, now teacher at the local school. It is a pleasure to meet you both."

"Mr. Boivin, what's a Red warden?" One of the girls asked.

"Good question, Susana." It really was. Given that he had only heard the name, but never actually learned much about the order himself. His own knowledge of Florentina was lacking as well. "Perhaps you should direct it to the experts, no? If they are not too busy of course." The girl was slightly intimidated by Hugh's massive figure, so she turned to the more friendly of the two.

"Lady, what's a Red warden?"

 

[Infab]

"I believe the fair Queen will be alright. If they were to harm her in any particular way, the whole continent could come down on their heads...as well as an angry goddess." remarked Catarina. "And you get used to it. Standing at the crossroads, I mean. The heat is a different matter entirely."

She offered her hand after a moment. "Catarina Klostermann. President of the Union of Alchemists, and chairwoman of the Klostermann Manufacturing Company." she stated, as she shifted her cigarette into the corner of her mouth.

 

[Dmaster]

"Oui, such knowledge is the only reason I choose to stand idly by." Camille replies, returning the handshake with a rather gentle grip before she returns her hands to her sides. "Good to meet you, I would introduce myself yet it seems you already know me."

"I do not mean to come across as a shut-in, if I am to be honest. I try to be well-traveled but recent years have been rather... unforgiving. Even still I cannot say I've seen so many various kinds of people in one place. It gives me some much-needed perspective."

 

[Doomevil]

Wendy couldn’t help but smile at the question and lower herself to make eye contact with the little girl.

“Well, the Red Wardens are people who want to make the world safer and make sure we can help out the local communities like rescuing animals, teaching how to ride horses and traveling around the world. We usually work with the governments and communicate to figure out how we can serve.” Wendy gave a short summary of what they usually did besides contracts. Hugh did make a warm smile as Wendy took initiative. As Wendy explained more to the children, Hugh directed his attention to Theodore.

“Wendy’s just starting out. I wanted to give her a glimpse of what might come as she finishes her training back in Florentina. Your accent is Escarian. Where were you born and raised in? If you got the time.” Hugh asked, arms crossed.

 

[Infab]

"Indeed. Rare events like this bring the world together." said Catarina, taking another drag off her cigarette before exhaling the smoke into the air above. "We decide the future in the coming days. Politically, economically, socially...It is certainly a big deal, so they come to see it happen firsthand." She smiled. "History in the making."

She then glanced about, before looking back to Camille. "So, are you here representing yourself? Or all of the independent hunters of Escaria? I'm surprised you all haven't formed a guild like the Atracans and Tsavanians." She took one last puff from her cigarette, before dropping the butt on the ground and crushing it under her boot heel.

 

[Dmaster]

Camille nodded her head along with Catarina's words, in full agreement as to why there is such a gathering. That said she would have much preferred a more private affair, especially with how regardless of what may happen she had the sinking feeling that it was highly unlikely that everyone would come out of the summit satisfied. Meaning that the various factions set up in this little mining town would potentially be at each other's throats by the end of it. The huntress wondered how Velin could break up a potential brawl like that, seeing as this was the very town she was run out of...

"Hm? Ah, I am representing independent hunters as best I can. Though really I do not wish to speak for anyone but myself, given how... broad of a group that is." she states. "I believe Escarian politics tend to get in the way of setting up a guild like the other countries. Many nobles would prefer to be lackadaisical with their wines and balls to ever entertain something so garish as a group of professional hunters." Camille adds an over-the-top tone to signify faux disgust at the word.

"Without funding well, guilds don't form oui? As a result it is up to individuals like myself to see to such matters alone. The reason I managed to gain my reputation so quickly was there was a lot of work to be done that was either attempted incompetently or not at all."

 

[Breadman]

"I was born in the outskirts of Vierteaux. My family were simple folk. Nothing special, but good people." Theodore was never one to shy away from his humble origin, yet it rarely came up in conversation. "I became interested in the difference sciences at a young age and was lucky enough to qualify for a grant and got the ball rolling for my further education. My road led me to teach alchemy and engineering at the university there, but I left after an... incident. I joined the order after as an archivist, but left a few years ago once Velin returned. Now I teach again, but have replaced the students desperate to cure a hangover with more disciplined ones." He finished, not wanting to overwhelm and bore the grandmaster with details. "What about you, monsieur? You seem to have seen a great many things."

The children were more interested in Wendy. Surrounding her with questions about being a Red warden. 'Is it dangerous? How hard is it? Are they like knights? Can they do magic?' those questions and more sparked their imagination.

 

[Doomevil]

Hugh nodded, hearing how Theodore managed to come from Escaria to where he was now. Events had a mysterious way to put you in a different path. He spoke up, “Tsarvania’s where I grew up, Chevets was the town until I had to serve under the military. I believe I left after serving my time there. I was with the Red Wardens when the war started with Atraca.” Hugh gave a low shrug.

“The previous Grandmaster taught us how to track down criminals and beasts using the environment, when we were stronger in numbers. But she soon passed on and with many races returning, leaves us stretched thin. We’re doing what we can at least. And maybe we can give our voice once the summit begins.” He stated.

Wendy on the other hand, nodded to the kids. She could go on about the responsibilities, but they would be doing this all day.

“It can be very dangerous, which is why it’s important to pick your battles carefully and never be afraid to ask for help when you need it. Some of the Wardens like my friend Senya Melgaeron is a knight, but not all of us. You don’t need to be a knight to be a Red Warden.”

Hugh soon turned to Wendy and then switched back to Theodore. “They could be going all night from now. I suppose we should get going. We have some errands to run before we head to a hostel.” Hugh said as he gave a bow.

“It’s good to meet you, Boivin. Wendy?” He raised an eyebrow, seeing the rookie surrounded by kids. She saw the Grandmaster expected her, leaving her disappointed but nevertheless said her goodbyes.

“Well, I have to leave kids. But be sure to get to know the world and learn from it. I’m still learning too.” Both of them eventually walked away and joined up with Auron again. They still have other things to do before the day ends.

 

[K0mori]

The young Queen stepped into the room a bit more slowly than could be explained by patience; Marie-Claire was nervous and somewhat transfixed by the uncanny beauty of the sharply-dressed undead, while her own, aging ministers seemed to blend into the walls behind them in their drab travelling suits. In public, this drew greater attention to her own azure and gold dress with matching jacket, but here it had the effect of isolating her. It was only a moment later that she realized that the man in front of her in the crimson robes was the very rogue who masterminded the creation of a petty state, as well as the slaughter of unknown innocents.

"Good day to you, sir," she said after clearing her throat. The words were unaccompanied by a smile or any indication of warmness. "I intend to make this a brief visit, and indeed by crossing the very threshold into this establishment, I have said most of what I had intended to say, and that is: on behalf of Escaria, I will not treat your delegation as personae non gratae as the future of your people is openly debated." The Queen avoided eye contact as she added, "...the hostilities must end; the purges must end. But as certain as I am of this conclusion, I am equally unsure of my power to achieve it."

---
​

Out in the streets in another area of town, Francis and his men had entered a busy tavern and, over the course of an hour and with the help of a few rounds, had gathered the strength of will and the hateful ire necessary to bully all of the other patrons out of the establishment aside from those who were as spiteful as any of the murderous hunters in his midst. All together, the crew increased in their violent enthusiasm until word began to spread that a lynch mob was forming; the emissaries from Nocturne would be the targets. The town constabulary had taken note of the situation but, undermanned and fearful of causing a riot, had cordoned off the street corner entrance to the pub and were attempting to gather manpower for a mass arrest. It soon evolved into a standoff.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"It always comes down to theater," Aleister mused as some drinks were brought in specifically for the Escarians. "I am gratified that you would spare a visit, regardless of how brief it may be. That demonstrates a great deal more... maturity than some of your counterparts. Your candor is likewise most appreciated. So rarely are so many gathered to craft a future that we, for once, have a direct say in. Indeed, the hostilities must end, on all sides. This isn't a fight we wanted in the first place - but fight we will, if necessary. Too much has been orchestrated to allow any of us to comfortably return to the way things used to be, as intolerable as they were at times."

Aleister offered a polite, warm smile, his gaze firmly on her even as she avoided eye contact. "Madam, I think you do yourself a disservice. You are the noble queen of a very proud, very cultured nation, one of the richest on this continent, not merely in wealthy splendor, but in richness of the soul, of the arts and spirit. These are no honeyed words - I have traveled to all nations of this continent in my life, and Escaria was always pleasant, even among the unexpected little miseries. Your power is what you make of it. The other esteemed rulers gathered here - they are part of that old breed. But you and I, we are recent additions, a breath of fresh air into this system of backroom squabbling and starched suits. It would be a shame to allow the others to bully you around merely because they can shout loudest. Even those by your side - and this is not insinuation, merely a general perception - may unknowingly shackle you to choices you would not otherwise commit to. Value your counsel, but beware those who wish to clip your wings."

"Never doubt your power, madam. The future is what we make of it. We cannot achieve brightness if we allow the wool to be kept over our eyes."

 

[K0mori]

The Queen took a long breath, thinking over her response, before beckoning to the President of the Council to join her in sitting for a drink. "You are most polite, sir."

Not monsieur. "Sir." The Queen's tone had not softened despite Aleister's flattery.

"The future is quite the concept, is it not? I know you must have intended to excite my imagination when you say, what was it? 'The future is what we make of it'? Ah, but therein lies the problem. You say that we are both 'recent additions' as if we are blank canvases, but we are not- we both have blood on our hands. I will not deny the role I've played in the savagery of Velin's purges... but," she said, her expression sharpening as her stately education revealed itself, "politically speaking, the world will forgive my inability to halt them in these last few months as I inherited this crisis. But you... The world may eventually accept Nocturne, and it may eventually even come to accept the coexistence of vampires and werewolves among the populations of Adonia, but not while you are their figurehead."

There was a pause in the conversation before Marie-Claire spoke up again. "...I do not personally hate you, nor will I call for your prosecution for what was done to the people of Atraca. I have seen and heard of atrocities in Escaria and elsewhere, especially Tsavania, that have turned my stomach. But I am speaking on behalf of a country which willfully ignores such things, and a human race which has absolved itself of guilt even as the very Goddess of Judgement has found herself unsure. I can influence them to an extent, but if I openly challenge the will of the people, well... that is precisely how one winds up with 'clipped wings.' I will do what I can to help the cause of peace, but as it stands, I believe that you, sir, are an obstacle to it. If you believe in the future as you say, then I hope that you are prepared to pass the torch to someone else, so that we do not spend this entire summit re-litigating the past events which led to this moment."

 

[Infab]

Catarina listened quietly as Camille spoke of her representing more herself than the independant hunters of the Escarian kingdom. "Eventually things will change. I'm sure a guild or cooperative may spring up. Funded or not. The Atracans seemed to do well enough without the proper funding." she commented, before looking back to the hotel. "Anyway, I must be off. I wish you a pleasant evening. And please...enjoy yourself. We have a long day tomorrow." said Catarina, before glancing to the alchemist following her and nodding.

And a moment later, they were off...heading down the street towards the hotel that the Escarian Queen had ventured into. She had her own business to attend to, primarily with the leader of the Nocturne delegation. Certainly not political, but certainly not something that would be spoken of during the summit meeting. As she neared the hotel, she smiled at those outside. "Catarina Klostermann, President of the Union of Alchemists...Might I have a word with the esteemed Archbishop?" she said.

Elsewhere, one of the senior inquisitors had taken note of the growing disturbance cause by some of the outsiders that had seeped into town. They knew exactly what it was: members of Velin's disbanded order, likely there to cause trouble at the summit. With a holy spell, a divine messenger was summoned. The information was passed to the angel, whom disappeared shortly afterwards. Velin needed to be alerted, and she was. Standing inside the main hall of the Grand Cathedral in Eternis, Velin paused with Undite as they both listened to the angel in golden armor.

Velin's rage surged forth yet again, lightning rippling down her casually clothed form. "I ordered them to stand down and disband, and they defy me? This is UNACCEPTABLE." she spat, opening a portal to Red Gorge a split-second later. Undite eyes went wide. Oh no.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"Now that... is a rather naive outlook, madam." Another thin smile creased Aleister's face, though the real expression was in his eyes, a look of almost condescending pity. The little dove had talons after all. "I do seem to recall - personally by experience, and through a learned perspective, which I think we both meet on better - that Adonia is a continent that seems to enjoy a routine process of self-flagellation. A bloodletting. Sometimes big, sometimes small. If you wish to point at the large game, look no further than the Atracan-Tsavanian war. It wasn't so long ago. Still fresh in our memories. Then you can look to the other wars that seems to emerge each decade, not to mention all the little conflicts, whispers by themselves but a chorus when added up when you read them from the page and realize Adonia has been killing itself since... well, forever. Who speaks of the unfortunate elves much these days? Before their return, I mean. Chiseled stone laying in a farmer's field somewhere."

"As we are keen in pointing out differences among ourselves now, allow me to elaborate. The blood that is on my hands is the blood of one forced to defend themselves from barbarism. Not once were our hands - my hands - raised before the hits befell us first," he said, gesturing at those beside him on the couch. "The esteemed royalty of Adonia can stomach a great deal of bloodshed. Ask any number of the veterans in the streets out there. Your crowned kin sup from the well of hypocrisy when they claim they cannot accept what I have done, as if I led the golden horde through the gates and ushered in a new age of darkness myself. We struck a military harbor. If they can accept years of conflict that churn the bodies of men, women, and children into minced, diseased meat, who return home without whole limbs and whole minds - they can accept me, and they can accept Nocturne. Of course, the righteous indignation goes both ways. Do you think the refugees who fled to my shores will forget the atrocities leveled against them anytime soon, led by governments which willfully, through malice, or inadvertently, through incompetence, brought upon them?"

"The will of the people... I used to read that line often in books. Never truly appreciated it for the weight in each letter. Do you think I was born into the role as Archbishop? My lineage didn't grant me it. I didn't claim it, as a warlord might. It was bestowed upon me. By the will of the people. That's rather different from a king, or might I say, queen. And so long as my people need me, and will have me...." Aleister extended his arms to either side of him. "Then here I shall be. You could not decapitate me in conflict, so you wish to attempt it by politics. Nocturne does not yield to injustice. If the nations of Adonia wish to remain in the past and stick to their cycle of petty squabbles among royalty that leaves millions dead, sick, ravaged, broken, displaced, and lost - by all means, be my guest, but keep us out of it."

A footman entered the room discreetly, and whispered something to Aleister. He nodded once. "It seems we have another visitor."

 

[K0mori]

Despite the increasing likelihood of a brawl and arrests, the atmosphere within Ralley's Tavern was surprisingly jovial. A drunken zealot had taken a seat at the piano and was proving himself surprisingly able, and the proprietors, despite their increasing anxiety over the standoff, were selling liquor hand over fist to the drunken mob. Francis, however, was becoming increasingly irritated; when he had swilled the crowd, he had genuinely hoped to follow through on his calls for action, but it seemed that the other Order holdouts were more interested in getting embarrassingly drunk.

"What a crock of shit, this is, eh mate?" a young man in a hood said to him as they sat at the bar. "At this rate, the coppers are gonna give us the ol' bum rush and haul us all away- just what the vamps want. I swear, we march a hundred miles, shoot and burn a thousand parasites, and now that we're a mile or two away from the king o' the vamps we let the opportunity slip?"

Francis nodded, wiping whisky from the corner of his mouth. "Sounds about right," he grumbled. "Maybe it's been too long since we've had a proper bonfire. We're losing our discipline. But you sound like a proper one... You're like me: humans above all, right?" He held up his glass and, at first wordlessly, the hooded man smiled and clinked his own glass against Francis's.

Then, he spoke up after a moment of silence. "The name is Rogers, they call me "Jolly." I spent the last three years right here in Southern Atraca, and I tell ya, this scummy pit is an embarrassment to the whole country. How about you? I heard you burned so many mongrels in Tsavania that the snow held off this year."

"Where'd you hear that?" Francis said with a laugh.

Rogers chuckled too. "I can't even remember."

"Well, it's true," Francis insisted. "Once you get used to the smell of burning pelt, you'd appreciate the heat it gives off. Keeps you comfortable sleeping out there in a tent like I did. Honestly, I didn't even miss my bed all that much, I could've kept at it another three years."

"Hell yeah, that's what I like to hear!" Rogers said. "Listen, it's not as bad as it looks, 'aight? I know a few boys like us who haven't forgotten what we're here for. There's a back way outta here, by the way." He pointed to a narrow staircase behind the bar that descended to a basement. "See that door down there? At the bottom o' the stairs? I've seen the back of this place and they got a delivery spot for the liquor as it comes in. We ought to jump the counter if things get rough around here."

Again, Francis nodded. "We should get the word out, we'll meet again tomorrow. Where's a good place?"

Rogers thought about it. "...Park Street and Hickory Lane," he replied. "I'll spread the word, we'll get there early tomorrow morning, light up some torches, and head down Hickory toward the Fairweather Estate. We'll flush 'em out right before sunrise!"

"Ha!"

At that moment, right outside the tavern, a horse-drawn wagon pulled up with a dozen constables who quickly deployed themselves, reporting to a local sergeant who was preparing the assault on the building. As Rogers and Adams circled the room, informing anyone sober enough of the plan for tomorrow, there was a suddenly a scream and shout, the sound of glass breaking and wooden doors being kicked in. Several gunshots rang out, and, reflexively, Francis did as he was advised. He jumped the counter and stumbled drunkenly down the steps to the basement two at a time, feeling his way through the dark to the delivery door. A moment later, he and Rogers fell out through the door into a dirty back alley along with another two zealots, and in a panic, they ran in opposite directions.

Francis picked himself up, shaking his head as he tried to get his blurry eyes to focus on the path ahead. He got his feet beneath him again and started along, when, at the end of the alley, just before the exit into the street, he saw what he immediately believed was a hallucination.

There, looking as beautiful as the day he married her, was Dorothy Cooper. The same Dorothy that was burned beyond recognition in his own schoolhouse back on Grimtham. While others ran ahead, including some who had only just found the second exit, Francis found himself frozen in place, arrested by her mysterious smile. "D-Dorothy?" he stammered out. And then he noticed the golden irises in her eyes, and knew, somehow, that Sazak was toying with him again.

"...NO!"

Of all the places and all the times, the demon had found him again!

---
​

The Queen sat quietly and listened to Aleister's diatribe. When he was done, she returned his somewhat insulting smile. "Hypocrisy though it may be," she said gently, "the righteousness you claim as your excuse changes nothing in the eyes of the bystander, and the Kings and Queens, the Prime Ministers and Presidents of Adonia, whether they've received their titles by birth or by election, will hold more prestige, more sway, and more power than a vampire lord of any kind. And sir, do not mistake your elusiveness for invincibility. There is still plenty of time for the Atracans to 'decapitate' you.

"Ultimately," she summarized, "it's not me you need to convince, if you insist on keeping the reigns of power to yourself. You'll need to convince the world."

At that moment, Aleister was informed of another visitor, and Marie-Claire perked up, having become so focused on the conversation that she had forgotten there were others in the room.

 

[Infab]

Catarina and her alchemist follower were soon guided through the hotel, Catarina giving casual glances about as they moved. Aleister has certainly brought enough bodyguards. Half of them in disguise, placed just so...Certainly wouldn't protect him should Velin change her mind, or if King Newmont brings his mages to bear against him. Still...they'd put on a good show at least before being crushed.

They soon arrived at the drawing room, soon stepping inside to see Aleister, his entourage, and the Escarian Queen. "Good afternoon, Archbishop. Pleasure to see you again as well, Queen Allemand." said the blonde alchemist. She bowed slightly, removing her top hat as she did. "Catarina Klostermann. President of the Union of Alchemists, and chairwoman of the Klostermann Manufacturing Company." she said, introducing herself before straightening back up. "I decided that it would be most proper to come and introduce myself to the leader of our new small island nation to the northwest."

------
​

As the afternoon proceeded on, another delegation soon began to arrive via train. The Atracan delegation itself. This train was far longer than the others, with several cars dedicated to carrying troops. Three other cars carried the staff of King Alexander Newmont, while one last train car situated between rhe troop cars and advisatory cars carried the King himself. The train's whistle sounded off, just as the gunshots sounded in another part of town. And once the train came to a stop, every troop car opened at once. A few hundred soldiers poured out, dressed as through they were more prepared for battle than to represent Atraca politically.

Three of the cars were carrying soldiers that looked far different than the others, clad in armor plating and wearing capes and hoods that bore the colors of Atraca's royal guard. These troops carries massive tomes upon their hips, attached to their armor using solid steel chains, and also bore brand new semi-automatic pistols on their thighs. These were members of Atraca's 1st Royal Mage Brigade. Heroes and veterans of the war between Atraca and Tsavania, and particularly talented in combating the supernatural in all forms.

As the soldiers began forming into groups, they recieved orders to scatter around the town in various locations. Likely to provide the local constablary and inquisitors some assistance with maintaining order. The Royal Mages, however, did not. Instead, they formed up at the train station terminal, where the King and his staff emerged.

 

[Dmaster]

"Lack of funding and motivation, mind." Camille restates as she brushes her bangs to the sides of her face with her fingers. "It makes no difference to me, for I have my own plans for the future." After she said that Catarina broke away from the conversation, prompting the huntress to squint at the direction she began to walk in. "Yes. You do the same. We'll see just what kinds of enjoyment can be squeezed out of such an anxiety-inducing town."

As the head alchemist's silhouette sank into the background Camille kept a close eye on it, astounded to see that she too was heading into the estate where Nocturne's leadership resided. This forced her to scoff, absolutely flabbergasted that so many people were paying a visit to those radicals mere hours before the summit. Just what could be going on in there? Despite her raging curiosity there was nothing she could do, for she was not certain if getting so close to the delegation's place of residence was wise at this stage. Not for the danger she would be in, rather what she may attempt to do once in close proximity.

With a sigh she adjusted her footing, trying her best to take her mind off of things as she once again scanned her surroundings. Now that group of children and their leader seemed to be a bit closer, though as she caught a glance at the figure guiding them she noticed something rather familiar. They were bearing a rather striking mask she could not possibly forget, and quickly she shuffled her way over to him.

"Monsieur Boivin? Just what are you doing in this arid bed of chaos?" Camille asks rather suddenly, stepping directly in front of him shortly after the knights had left. She glanced over her shoulder as they sauntered off, though quickly put her attention back on her previous ally.

 

[Breadman]

"It was good to see you too, grandmaster." Theodore nodded "I hope the following events prove fortunate for us all." as the duo walked off, Theodore turned back to his class. "Now then. Let's see if someone from Nocturne will meet with us. Remember to be on your best behavior. Vampires are welcome in red Gorge just as any other person seeking a good life for themselves and others. But some still need to interact with them as people. You in particular, James."

"No fair. I didn't do anything!" The boy protested rather loudly

"I intend to keep it that way." His teacher crossed his arms "Now quiet down and I'll see if we can talk to someone."

Monsieur Boivin? Just what are you doing in this arid bed of chaos?

"Camille?" Theodore looked to the lady with shock. She was one of the last people he expected to bump into. Least of all with a new outfit. "...I could ask you the same." He finally let out once it wore off. But then he remembered how close they were to Nocturne's delegation. "But since you asked me first, I've been here for the last couple of years. Helping Jacob and his detective agency. As well as doing some teaching." He motioned to the class that was still there. "It's good to see you." He added towards the end.

 

[Dmaster]

The huntress placed her hands on her hips as she tilted her head curiously, rather shocked to know that he was living here and assisting Jakob. Truthfully this wasn't what she considered an ideal location for the scholar either, though she didn't have to ask why he was no longer in service of the Church considering she distinctly remembers him renouncing that servitude.

"Good to see you as well... And oh, the outfit? Oui, I've been meaning to re-approach how I combat the enemies I hunt, and this is part of that effort. I've retired my rapier skills and have taken up a saber and dagger in its stead." Camille states rather calmly. "And you... work with Jakob? I did intend to visit him, though I haven't spotted where his agency might be. Is he about?"

Finally she rolls her shoulders and answers the big question on Theodore's mind. "I'll be speaking at the summit. Providing some insight on independent hunting, and with any luck, just what to do with Aleister."

 

[Breadman]

"I figured that he was among your reasons for coming, but you speaking at the summit, I didn't expect if I'm honest. But I haven't considered how the decisions made here would impact independent hunters around the world." He had to admit to another blind spot. There were many already, but this one he was rather angry at himself for not considering at all. It was obvious and would likely impact small communities around the continent. "Can't think of anyone more prolific to speak for them either."

"Mr. Boivin, will my dad be alright?" One of the girls asked

"Yes, Sara." He quickly turned to her to comfort her "Your father is a trapper. His line of work is secure. We're talking about a different type of hunter. The supernatural kind." With that addressed he turned back to Camille "Apologies, the children have been rather exited all day. Asking questions about everything to everyone. As for Jacob, you can find his agency near here. Down the road, on 3rd street. Can't miss it. As for him." He couldn't keep an upbeat tone "He left for a mission I can't disclose openly. And I'm afraid I have no idea if he will come back at all."

 

[SniperComZero]

Le Château d'Chamoroux, Northeastern Escaria.
October, 1880.​

The months following the reemergence of their peoples had been a rocky one for the elves. Those who had the day prior gone about their business, without even an inkling of what would happen to them. Anywhere from years to hundreds of years before the downfall of their race. What was constant, however, was the confusion that befell them as they awakened. Some wandered, others sought an explanation from the closest civilisation that they could find, only to find humans living on the lands that they had thought were lorded over by elves. Whilst some became irritable over that fact, and some simply accepted cohabitation with humans, many more simply asked where they could find more of their own.

Thus, it was in no short amount of time that the-- at least to their knowledge, only functioning elvish settlement that has cropped up from all of the madness. Chamoroux, laid low from its glory days. Where once all within its walls lived with ample space and comfort, much of the ruined city was filled with tents and shanty housing to accommodate the influx of refugees. While construction efforts were underway, it was slowgoing, as everyone had to adapt to this strange, new world that they found themselves in. Wagons, trucks and all sorts came through the town every day, spooking the locals as they carried the vital supplies that the settlement needed to keep running. It was at the keep they stopped, unloaded their goods, and took their payment back. By the good graces of the gods, at least the kingdom had managed to keep many of its stored away riches through the transitory period.

In the courtyard, the court sorceress took stock of that day's stock. Victorié had to ration out food to the people, writing lists and handing them to the guards to dole out the supplies. It was mostly food and firewood, which came from the forests surrounding the town. With the queen's absence, it was a strain that had been placed upon her to keep the kingdom falling into anarchy. The only small mercy that the situation offered was that many guards and soldiers-- annoyingly, from many different eras themselves, had plucked from the past, giving rise to something of a standing army. All that was required was to give them arms and ammunition befitting of a more modern era. But, order could not be maintained with steel alone. Even that arrogant firebrand she'd assisted for so many years knew that much, at least.

Just as she was handing out her lists, however, a scrawny half-elf, a hood pulled over his head, approached. "Madame Victorié." He greeted with a bow. "I bring news from the south." Her barely-held interest was punctuated by a turn of her head. Most of her news these days was hearsay from the provinces surrounding them. Most of it, coming from humans who she'd hired to gather said information. A somewhat costly endeavour, but she wasn't eager to draw even more attention to the wheezing castle than had already been drawn.

Some, however, came from half-elves she had sent away. Close enough to humans that she felt comfortable enough to send them on errands and other such menial, if, far-reaching tasks. "Yes, Georgés?"

"Well, I've heard a lot of town folk talking about--" He was quickly cut off. "No no, let me guess. Leaders from all over the continent meeting somewhere for the express purpose of-- something. Is that it? Because it must be the tenth time I've heard it this week." He curtly nodded his head. "...A... a place called Red Gorge, madame."

Victorié's face softened slightly. At the very least, he had been more helpful than the first nine relayers of knowledge. A hand came to her forehead, fingers and thumb massaging either side. "...Very good, Georgés. Was there anything else?"

. . . . .

Red Gorge, a day before the Summit.
​

The town that they had been travelling weeks for was finally in sight. It was a relief to the mage that she wouldn't have to keep asking for directions to the place that they were going. Some of the troops were a mite bit antsy that they had been travelling a long road to nowhere for some time now.

Even for those more technologically inclined, making their way from one end of a continent to another would be an ordeal and a half. For those whose only trusted transportation consists of horseback riding, the journey took them weeks. The fact that the city was so bustling with people was a good sign, at least. That means that she probably didn't miss the summit.

The elves upon their coursers seemed woefully out of place. For everyone in suits and their formal attire meandering, they were wholly anachronistic, their equipment a mishmash of differing eras. Some wore the full plate that they had worn centuries before, others opted for lighter builds, greaves and gauntlets replaced by gloves and jackets. Some had shields and swords looped around their back and waist, others held rifles from makers all across the continent. The only thing that seemed truly consistent about them was the barding of their horses. Alternating squares of crimson and amber.

At their head, however, the acting regent of the kingdom, halting their advance. There were... a lot of humans here. In itself, not much of a surprise. It simply hit Victorié with a pang of disappointment. If they were the only elves here, then... perhaps they're the only elves left.

["...The last time I think I saw so many humans in one place they were trying to gouge my eyes out."] ["Do they all live like this? The heat, and that stench. Graces of the gods, it's making me dizzy."] As one pulled his garment up over his nose, the rest of the detachment spoke amongst themselves as they made their way closer to the town's outskirts, drawing glares from many that they passed by as they did so. Not the least of which were directed towards their leader, dressed up in druidic fashion.

["It's just the exhaustion talking, I'm sure."] Even if Victorié herself had to fan herself with a hand. ["We can just find somewhere to lodge and get our bearings."] Even then, however, that would be difficult. Even before the thought of how difficult it already would be to find somewhere for sixteen with mounts to stay, the streets themselves felt... constricting. Buildings looming over them, with people packed in all around. It felt oppressive. At least a group of cavaliers were easy to make room for, letting them pass through the streets with relative ease.

 

[Dmaster]

Camille smirked slightly as she heard Theodore say he was surprised that she would actually be speaking, which was natural considering it was a surprise to her as well. "Oh, Theodore there is no need to flatter me with such compliments. Really, you and I both know that my performance in Grimtham was sloppy at best." she assured, though it was hard to tell if the modesty was genuine or self-deprecating on her part. "I will do my best to represent those who make a living off of keeping others safe from supernaturals. We conduct ourselves with more tact than the sweeping purges at least..."

"No need for apologies. They are young and their whole town is upside down, brimming with people from different lands and of whole different species these days. We're... living in interesting times." she trailed off, though her smile did grow when she heard the innocent question. Yet when Theodore hesitated to explain where Jakob had went, Camille frowned as she felt a twinge in her heart that she could not place the meaning of. "You... cannot disclose it? What sort of case is he working where he may never come back? That doesn't seem like something he would do, given his daughter."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Aleister seemed somewhat amused, though the charcoal surrounding his eyes did much to hide the subtleties of his expression. It made it difficult to judge what was really amusement or exasperation. "So it would seem," he murmured, eyes on her as he twirled a little, half-faded and almost threadbare scarlet ribbon around the fingers of one hand. He only looked away when Catarina stepped in, and to greet her. If he was surprised to see her, he did not show it.

"Aleister Germain," he bowed his head. Likewise, he introduced those with him. "President. How nice to meet you. Please, take a see if it would please you." A footman brought a cushioned armchair in and sat it beside the couch the queen was sitting on. "I must admit, I am delighted to be in the presence of well-mannered and polite company," he said, eyes flickering over towards the queen before returning to Catarina, "for such a crowd seems so thin these days."