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

[Dmaster]

Suffice it to say Camille was furious as she bounded through the crowd and back into the street. A hand was to her forehead as she shuffled through the dusty lanes of people, doing her very best to collect herself. She had always believed the gods to be insufferable and full of themselves, but to meet a new goddess who would try to justify their mistakes by masking it with regret and faux caring - it was truly surprising, earth shattering even.

Undite's words did nothing to get the huntress to reconsider her position. The Church had too much power, the ability to wrap the world up in a genocidal call to arms while the nations allow police, militants, and citizens alike to wantonly kill their supernatural neighbors was insane. As a hunter, she prided herself on her considerate methods, not sweeping advances that uprooted the lives of human and vampire alike.

Even still, she had to calm herself down. Camille recognized that she could bring attention to all of these atrocities during the summit - if the town was even to last that long. The scene behind the goddesses was gruesome, but Camille was too blinded by her own fury to notice. Slowly her temper steadied, her hurried steps taking her to a different section of Red Gorge and far away from the alleys she found Velin in.

Grabbing her bearings, her vision swept through the crowd around her something sticking out among the blurred faces and outfits she witnessed. Her eyes snapped back and she felt her heart skip a beat, seeing Blair across from her.

Her mind started to fly off with possibilities and explanations. Last she saw of the alchemist she worked with Edmond to engineer traps to kill the inquiry in Grimtham. Had she... Did she coerce with Nocturne and rig this town to explode?!

Quickly Camille moved to keep herself hidden, gritting her teeth as she grabbed onto one of her blades and considered drawing it. Her eyes looked over the mad engineer with malicious intent, creeping up slowly as she used wagons and carriages for cover as she pondered how to go about this. However, the more she thought on the method the further she realized how insane it would be for her to confront Blair in broad daylight, even if the place was rigged to explode. Here among the crowd, if she could stop her Camille could expose her after drawing the needed information out from her.

Quickly the huntress stepped directly in the path of Blair, pace rapid but her demeanor cold and surprisingly lacking aggression. "You." she calls out to her mere steps away. "Explain yourself. Quickly."

 

[Infab]

Blair froze, a confused look on her face. "Huh?" she asked, squinting and adjusting her glasses to try and get a better look at whom was addresssing her. "...Explain what? I was simply going to get something to drink. The heat is terrible here...Who even are you, lady? And what's with the feathers? Are you trying to be a bird or something?" she asked.

Then she finally realized who she was. "Oh! You're that Raven woman from Escaria! That huntress! You hunt vampires right? Well, I'm certainly not a vampire! Look at my eyes!" she said with a chuckle, leaning forward and opening an eye wide.

 

[Dmaster]

Camille scowled as she was certain that Blair was playing dumb with her, and she would not allow it. Her arms crossed over themselves as she continued to stare the young woman down, her expression now not waivering.

"I am not confronting you for being a vampire. I am confronting you for assisting the Duke in Grimtham." she asserted, taking a step forward. "I understand that this town is functionally a world stage for the events to come tomorrow. I would rather prefer you do not find an excuse to rig it to explode."

"Who are you working with now, hm? Do Nocturne and Aleister align with Ashwood's insane agenda enough for you to wave their banner as well?"

 

[Infab]

"Grimtham? Nocturne? Rig the town to explode?" said Blair, a bit confused. "...Raven lady, I'm not here to do anything beyond watch the Summit. I'm working with the Alchemist's Union. I just finished my part on a rail line from Daristein to Northeastern Escaria, and I want to relax a bit before moving on to my next job in Eshax. If you don't believe me, go ask Catarina Klostermann." She shrugged. "Why would I care what Nocturne is doing?"

She then strolled towards Camille. "Look, the Duke was insane. I just want to work and get paid like an Alchemist should. Now, can I go get my drink? I'll even buy you one."

 

[Dmaster]

Camille's eye twitched slightly at Blair's response. So she did recognize her and wasn't playing dumb. The huntress was not sure if Blair was not insane, dense, or both.

"And I suppose when you tried to render us into exploded viscera back in Grimtham you were also looking to get paid, non?" she shot back. "Do not treat me as if I am mad - you tried to kill us!"

"I have met your president already, and last I saw of her she sauntered off to the Nocturne delegation." Camille said, dropping her hands closer to her hips. "Considering that Nocturne recently saw it fit to annihilate a harbor, I am not exactly trusting of you Alchemists at present."

 

[Infab]

Blair adjusted her glasses as she stopped. "I was enthralled, Raven. Don't tell me you've never encountered someone under a vampire's charm. If you haven't, you're not a very good huntress." she responded. "And the Union President visited the Nocturne delegation? News to me. Maybe she's just greeting them. You know how high society types are."

She tilted her head after a moment. "...Wasn't that port blown up using a freighter? I could have sworn I read a newspaper that said that." she remarked, eyeing Camille before shaking her head. "Eh, doesn't matter. Point is, you're being paranoid."

 

[Dmaster]

"If you have not realized, it is my job to be paranoid." Camille defended, narrowing her eyes at the alchemist as she tightened her lips. "I have encountered charmed victims before, but you seemed a bit too cognizant at the time and you seem to have recollection of the events." Somewhat, the fact that Blair barely recognized her did muddy things up slightly.

"Regardless, I will be keeping an eye on you during the summit. If I see something I do not like, I will react accordingly."

 

[Infab]

Blair shrugged. "Ooookay. Well, prepare to be bored to tears then, I guess. And good luck controlling that paranoia." she remarked, before continuing on past Camille. She really is a nosey one. I'm not planning to blow anything up! As...fun as that would be! Too crowded, two gods lurking about, my teacher is here, the Union President is here...far too messy of a scene. She sighed as she continued on, walking down the street as she looked for a bar that wasn't all that crowded. If it was possible.

 

[Breadman]

The class swarmed the butler like locusts. Theodore didn't know they had grown that hungry after lunch. Poor man barely kept it together as the small humans circled him in attempts to claim their piece of food. Quite amusing he had to admit. After each of them had their full, he started to coral them. Angelica might have been a gracious host, but he could feel the annoyed glares and looks from some of the more stuffed up members of the delegation.

It took them a few minutes to organize and leave the hotel. The little beasts now formed an orderly line and followed him again.

"Where are we going now, Mr. Boivin?"

"The day is not out yet and there are still more delegations to visit as they pour into the town." He answered with a chipper tone. He stopped to look back for a few seconds "You're not getting tired are you?" The class collectively shook their heads "Good! Follow me then." They had seen magic, they had seen people with marshal prowess, but they have yet to see what the more exiting parts of science looks like. Someone from the Alchemist union will do just fine.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Lord Rupert Hampton eyes the staafman with a frown. He didn't need a gun to kill anyone, it was simply a fun expediter, something to strike the fear into people. What wasn't fun about shooting some running idiot in the back? Chasing them down was a bother, usually. And he'd get his clothes dirty.

He held the large handgun over. "Fine. Don't scuff it. It's worth more than you'll see in your life."

 

[Infab]

Blair continued on, and soon found that nearly all the bars and saloons were crammed full. She should have expected this, honestly. There's a summit tomorrow, and people from all over were here to see it. She sighed, eventually just finding a water pump and fishing some water out of it to drink. Maybe later when the bars thin out, she could get a proper drink. Burbon sounded nice. She emerged out in the street once more, and glanced to her left to see a heard of children wandering down the street following a short man with a mask. She smiled. She liked kids, really. Most were rather easy to impress and amaze, and were always curious when it came to things like magic and alchemy. Plus they loved explosions. Really, who didn't love explosions?

She waited where she was, her hands gently tucked into her trouser pockets as she watched them come closer. Maybe they'd stop and speak? "Good afternoon! Out for a field trip?" she asked, as they neared.

 

[Breadman]

It wasn't long after leaving the hotel that the group met with Blair. Theodore had spotted her from a small distance, her top hat giving her away. Now there was a coincidence. Could she be a member of the Alchemist union? Were they in luck? As they neared he noticed the pair of goggles and pieces of gears that around her clothes. She definitely was a member and one of the engineering types if he had to guess. Now he was intrigued himself.

Good afternoon! Out for a field trip?

"Oui mademoiselle." He said as they slowed and stopped "We are. The different delegations are coming into town and I saw an opportunity to teach them about the world. We are on our way to another delegation, but it seems that we may have bumped into an esteemed member of the Alchemists guild, no?"

 

[Infab]

Blair grinned. "Indeed you have!" she said, tipping her hat to Theodore and the children. After adjusting her glasses, she introduced herself. "My name is Blair Lockhart. I am a Senior Alchemical Engineer and Demolitions Expert! In other words, I help oversee the construction and maintenance of machinery and equipment, as well as blow things up!" she stated, giggling a little after stating her favorite part of the job. "I just finished my part with the new railway from Daristein into Northeastern Escaria. Now, I'm here to relax a little and watch this grand, historic event before moving on to my next job in Eshax."

She smiled, looking to all the children. "But I'm more than happy to talk to you all and answer questions! I'll even show you some tricks that we Alchemists can do, if you'd like!"

 

[Breadman]

"Oh? Those are some very impressive credentials!" He said enthusiastically "Reminds me of the projects I was part of in my younger years. But that is old news." He looked back towards the kids to see their faces already lid up. No doubt hearing about the explosions is what got them exited.

"Do you blow a lot of things up?" One asked "How big was your biggest bang?" another followed "What get the best boom? How do you get to be an explosion expert? Is bomb making hard?" the questions kept coming and coming.

"I believe so far you have the record for how fast you got their attention today." Theodore chuckled under his mask. "By all means mademoiselle Lockhart, show them what science can do!"

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"Fine. Don't scuff it. It's worth more than you'll see in your life."

The gun's placed in one of the Staafman's bags; one that thankfully had nothing in it. Once that was done, he ordered the two guards to open up the gates. The doors slowly pull apart as various gears and chains rattle, and instantly Rupbert was hit with a strangely fresh smell of tobacco and incense.

Inner Chambers, Caraborough Prison Complex.
​

Polished, shiny, and completely spotless. These words can hardly be used anywhere else in the colony except for, ironically enough, the proper prison building itself where it all began. Having been cleaned using slaves from the ‘franse’ (non-aligned people) or bought in markets abroad, each wing of the prison not only looked sanitary, but smelled nice too. Carpets and paintings were placed neatly in its halls with a few rugs draped over the handrails, in corners were little fancy tables with little fancy seats where relaxing Staafmanns were either playing cards, enjoying cigars with one another, and perhaps alarmingly for a place like the Ridge, reading newspapers. Even the cells themselves have been decorated in accordance to whomever was living in them. The whole complex looked less like a prison now, and more like a luxurious hotel back on the mainland; except just a little more cramped. Fitting that these ex-convicts live like little kings, as anyone that was given an actual proper conviction to be sentenced here were seen as nobility unlike the outcasts and rejects from around the world that were simply dumped here by boat. Yet none lived like a king more than the notorious Volucian crime-lord Rigo Lobo, leader of the very first gang and now the de facto ruler of Caraborough. Sitting in what was once the previous warden’s office and surrounded by his subordinates, he sits silently at his desk as someone very unlucky has caught his attention.

It’s always like this whenever someone was called into his office for less than dignified matters. It’s part of the ritualism surrounding the Numbers gangs and their culture of dominance. They always had to strip down completely and bring themselves into the light as he judged them. This was done to make the potential offender purposefully feel embarrassed for themselves. Too embarrassed to make any sudden moves, too embarrassed to talk back in any disrespectful manner. They were demanded to kneel before him just as bare as their honesty was expected to be. He sat high above at his polished, mahogany desk, hands held together in front of his face as he looked down on the Warhead kneeling in front of him wearing nothing but gang tattoos and scars all over his muscular body. Rigo’s piercing eyes were concealed by a pair of dark-tinted sunglasses, his large frame was covered by a luxurious looking suit, and the desk he’s leering over was a shining grey. This combined with his purple-black complexion and his equally dark suit and tie made him look like an obsidian gargoyle perched on his corner, scowling at Kregore. Gathered with him in his office were dozens of his subordinate Staafmanns wearing fancy accessories over their old prison jumpers. A few circle Kregore, very carefully examining him as they were looking for the slightest bit of movement. Any twitch, any signs of discomfort would be taken as a sign of shame as he kneels before the true leader of Caraborough. And a Warder does not feel shame.

They taunt him, purposefully getting him riled up to see how well he can control his temper in the face his master.

“You Warders, always sticking it where you shouldn’t! Is buggerin’ your wyfies not enough?!” one of them yells. “Goin’ soff’ over that camel bitch are you? How about you bring her here, and we’ll soften the bitch up too, huh?” taunts another as he got close up to Kregore’s face. “Don’t forget, she’s a whore. Sold ‘erself for those littl’ shits. Oi bet even some of the franse ‘ad ‘er!”

Yet Kregore didn’t move; not even his eyes moved an inch off Rigo’s face as they continue insulting him. It finally stops with a wave of Rigo’s hand, signaling for his men to back off as its established now Kregore’s self-control isn’t compromised by Ratka. “Enough!” An equally well-dressed man by Rigo’s side speaks for him. “Man’s still strong.” The taunting Staafmen give Rigo a silent bow as they move to the side.

“Warhead.” says another off to his right. “Explain yourself. What is this thing between you and this Hamidi woman?” Ratka is the topic of discussion today. The business at hand involves various sightings and reports from his men of him going to the church often, sometimes staying there for long periods of time. They've even seen her wearing the bandanna of a lieutenant tied around her neck. He’s tried waving it off as him trying to get Ratka to give him a quickie but this won’t do for his superiors. They suspect he’s grown fond of her while neglecting his duties as warlord. He swears this isn’t the case, but his superiors demand a proper explanation.

“IT IS NOTHING, STAAFHEAD.” Kregore looks right into Rigo’s eyes as he speaks. Looking anywhere else would be considered disrespectful and a sign of weakness. “I ONLY USE HER AS A 'GLAS'.” A scout in the Warders. “I THOUGHT IT USEFUL FOR ANOTHER SET OF EYES AND EARS TO SCOUT THE PIT WITH US.”

Rigo’s “mouth” talks again for him. “Yet she is not one of us, Warhead. You may see this as a way to use her, yet the problem begins with you trusting someone from the outside.” He leans in rather uncomfortably close to Kregore’s face. “This is not acceptable.”

“I SPEAK THE HONEST TRUTH, LORD. THE FRANSE SPEAK TO HER STILL, AND SHE HAS KNOWLEDGE MY MEN DO NOT.” responds Kregore.

“You still should not put your trust outside of your camp, Warhead. This reflects poorly on you for not having faith in your brothers. Do you understand this?”

“YES, I DO. IT IS ONLY FOR HER KNOWLEDGE OF MEDICINE AND OF THE PIT DID I EVEN CONSIDER HER IN THE FIRST PLACE. AND I HAVE... MANAGED TO ENSURE HER LOYALTY TO ME, AND ME ALONE.” He’s made it clear to himself it’s only for the supplies Ratka has that he doesn’t have, as well as for more... intimate comforts. Getting that point across to Rigo however is a challenge as he’s deathly afraid of looking incompetent in front of him.

“Must we remind you, Warhead, that you are a Warder. You are of the 78th wing. A son of Tu who works by the night. It is forbidden for you and the 78s to have wives or lovers. They will soften your heart until it is tender enough to be torn from your body, and you and your men are expected to be strong at all times. And while it is true you enforce our laws, you are not exempt from them. Do you understand this?”

Kregore very much understands this. He still remembers what became of his predecessor; how because of his lack of control led to several particularly nasty incidents, he was commuted to ‘die band’. It’s a horrible way to go out which disturbs even him, even if he had involvement in his execution himself. “I UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY, MENEER.”

“Good. Do not forget this, Warhead. You will not be weak for what is to come very soon. We will see to this if we must.” The “mouth” looks over to Rigo who makes a small nod. “There will be no punishment today. You may go now.”

He rises back to his feet now that he's free to move, and shakes the stiffness off of him as he's guided outside and given his clothes to put back on.

---
​

A feeling of dread suddenly starts beating across the prison walls the closer Rupbert is taken to the back where the office is. It feels greatly unnatural as every sense is irritated and the mind is bothered. It only intensifies the closer they get to the warden's office, and right when they turned a corner did this absolute titan of a man come into view. Built like a steel bunker, armored like one, and tall enough that his head almost reaches the ceiling of the office hallway, he looks down on Rupbert as he walks past.

"WAT KYK KY?" he growls. He doesn't wait for a retort from Rupbert; he simply keeps walking away. Strangely, the inhuman feeling follows him out until it's no more.

Finally, they're at the doors, and they open as the guide knocks and lets Rigo know he has a visitor. "Lord Rigo! We have a guest from Nocturne that wishes to speak to you concerning a partnership!" Rupbert is greeted by a well furbished office with dozens of faces looking at him; some of which belonged to vampires just like him. Rigo keeps the same glare he gave earlier to Kregore, but he also snaps his fingers towards some of his subordinates. They open up a wine cabinet behind him containing various types of alcohol and a tray holding spotless crystal glass cups. Rupbert is guided to a leather chair in front of the desk while several bottles of different liquors are offered to him.

Rigo's "mouth" speaks for him again. "Guest of Nocturne, the Lord of the Pit welcomes you." he says, performing a bow. "Now, tell us. What is this partnership you wish to create?"

 

[K0mori]

Seated beside Christoph, Dorothy was relaxed and composed, and didn't seem rushed to speak. But inside, she felt an itch to reveal her secrets, a notion she would otherwise never consider.

But her intuition had yet to lead her astray, and even if it did, there wasn't much anyone could do to kill her, if Master was to be believed. She was like a vampire now, undying, and able to heal from terrible wounds. It was the same reason she didn't fear Francis or his shotgun; the man simply didn't have the strength to end her life. In fact, she mildly regretted leaving the scene, as she would have liked to see the face of the man who used to brutalize her as the life drained from his body. But once again, it was intuition that told her to leave. And sure enough, Celine herself was right around the corner.

"My name is Dorothy Cooper. I'm not quite human, as I'm sure you've realized," she said, flitting her golden eyes in his direction. She then took up the charm in her fingers. "This is one of many gifts my Master has given me. I'll tell you more, if you tell me your name and what you do," she teased.

 

[Infab]

"My name is Dorothy Cooper. I'm not quite human, as I'm sure you've realized," she said, flitting her golden eyes in his direction. She then took up the charm in her fingers. "This is one of many gifts my Master has given me. I'll tell you more, if you tell me your name and what you do," she teased.

Certainly not human. Part Demon, it seems. Christoph wondered how she got into such a position, but would hold that particular question for the moment. "My name is Christoph Heilmeier, and I am a Master Alchemist as well as an Archeologist and Historian. Your master and I are...very well acquainted. I helped him locate a pair of special objects. In return, he helped me master my trade, so to speak." he replied. He tugged down the collar of his shirt slightly to reveal a rather rough looking vertical scar. "How did you come to be associated with him?"

------
​

"Well now! Lets see...I'll start from the top, then!" said Blair, grinning. "Yes! I do blow a lot of things up. Small, big, whatever needs to be exploded in grand fashion! My biggest bang was when I blew up half of Mount Klein in eastern Daristein a week ago. I used so much of my hand crafted dynamite and nitroglycerine that the explosion knocked most of my men down! And we were a good distance away!" she said, making an exploding motion with her hands. "You get the best boom when using a mixture of dynamite and pure nitroglycerine. At least for now! I've heard that the Union is working on new compounds to make even better booms, but is safer than nitro and dynamite!"

"As for how I became a demolitions expert, you just...learn to handle explosives and master their uses over time! They have classes that you may take at the Alchemist colleges in Daristein that help you learn different trades, including demolitions work. I took several of their courses, and here I am!" she explained. "Is bomb making hard? It is, to an extent...It requires a lot of focus, precision, and just the right measurements. Otherwise, you could prepare something really dangerous and unstable! And risk blowing yourself up!"

 

[Breadman]

The more Theodore listened to her answer the children's questions the more fascinated he became. The union has always been a source of innovation and progress in the realm of science and engineering as much as some of his colleagues would argue against it and with good reason. If they are developing a new compound, then that could mean many things to many people. Plenty of applications for it's use, both beneficial and detrimental. He would have to stay on the lookout for what they plan to do during the summit. Be it only observing or striking a lucrative deal with one or more of the great powers.

"Can you show us some of them?" One of the girls asked. It was Jessica, the usually quiet one. The question caught her teacher off guard as he didn't even think she would be interested in something like explosives. Theo's mask hid the bewildered stare he gave her, before he composed himself.

"Saw that question coming." He chuckled and turned to Blair "Is there by chance something up your sleeve?"

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Privately, Hampton found himself somewhat surprised to see the extent the prisoners went to dress up their home. It made sense, but he had remembered a much nastier environment those decades ago. More sterile and imposing, though his focus was on other things at the time. Still, no matter how much you dressed up a prison, it was still a prison, and the island itself was the garbage heap of civilization. He could throw his good drapes over a pile of refuse and sprinkle gold on it - wouldn't change what it was by nature.

Irritation began to set in more the deeper they went. The climate was much better now that he was inside, and he only dabbed at his face to remove the excess sweat still there. Vampires didn't usually sweat even under warm temperatures or when physically active, but it was the side effect of his life-saving amulet when out even in dim sunlight. Now that he was shielded by shelter, that discomfort began to ebb, but was replaced by a more curious agitation that he couldn't pinpoint. Well... he did hate this place. He was just surprised it was getting to him more than he anticipated. He began to feel some doubt, even a dash of fear that this was all a mistake, until a behemoth passed him in the hall. The ogre spat some foul language at him and he sneered back, and the sensation began to disappear once the creature was past. Some sort of aura, perhaps? Who knew what enchanted trinkets these thugs dug up in the mud. He could well remember the strange happenings even back then.

Once in the office of Lord Rigo, Hampton took the offered chair and sat, pith helmet under one arm, and wiped his face with his handkerchief once more before putting it away. Despite his hair being lank from the climate, he combed it once into a slick swept-back style, making him look more like a jungle explorer having just returned from an expedition. His suit jacket hid any unflattering sweat stains, fortunately. As for the alcohol, he grabbed one, sniffed at it, then took a tentative sip. He swished it around in his mouth to savor the bite before spitting it back out. Unlike the growing popularity in spice consumption, vampires had yet to figure out a way to drink liquor without suffering the usual pains of consuming foodstuffs. Instead, he took another, empty glass, and poured a vile of thick crimson into it, which clung to the sides heavily.

"And greetings to you, Lord of the Pit." Hampton took a sip of his blood drink, enhanced by the lingering taste of the alcohol still on his tongue. "Lord Rupert Hampton, Ambassador. A pleasure," he lied. He straightened up in his seat and went on to explain in more detail the same he had told the Staafman at the dock. Afterwards, he removed a paper from his jacket and held it over, the parchment containing more necessary details.

"It is a rather simple arrangement. So long as Caraborough does not act with undue aggression, Nocturne will recognize the island's right to self-defense in the face of aggression. Likewise, as later decided, we will take a shipment of laborers to construct and then work in our mills. They'll be given food and lodging, as well as pittance pay."

"There is also the matter of the national Summit. We've extend the invitation to you. All continental governments and non-state powers will be in attendance. This is, of course, a political circus. Any rough and tumble inclinations must be left at the door if anyone here is to attend, as Nocturne will not tolerate any embarrassments. This isn't a friendship. It is business."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"It is a rather simple arrangement. So long as Caraborough does not act with undue aggression, Nocturne will recognize the island's right to self-defense in the face of aggression. Likewise, as later decided, we will take a shipment of laborers to construct and then work in our mills. They'll be given food and lodging, as well as pittance pay. There is also the matter of the national Summit. We've extend the invitation to you. All continental governments and non-state powers will be in attendance. This is, of course, a political circus. Any rough and tumble inclinations must be left at the door if anyone here is to attend, as Nocturne will not tolerate any embarrassments. This isn't a friendship. It is business."

The subordinates in the room look to one another as they contemplate the proposal; even Rigo's "mouth" exchanges a few glances with him just to determine what he's thinking. Being recognized may sound good on paper, but what will this actually do in the long-term? While it'd be nice to have someone understand the validity of the Ridge, especially with how things as they are on the mainland, it would be pointless if nothing would ever come of it. They are both islands, and while one clearly has a far better chance of being recognized globally, they are still under threat of an invasion. The Atracans want revenge for the attacks done to them, and as for the Ridge, they haven't forgotten the utter embarrassment that was their attempt at containing the riots roughly a decade ago. An actual alliance may be necessary to survive if the Atracans were to ever carry through on their threats. Though as for the arrangement to send "laborers", they do indeed have plenty in supply and are willing to sell quite a few. In fact, there's visible looks of shock on some of their faces as there are people that aren't pirates, smugglers, or slavers that are actually willing to do business with them. So, while they do understand why Nocturne will never truly see them as friends, there is indeed great promise in a business partnership between the two islands. As well as money. Lots of it, hopefully.

Rigo's "mouth" speaks. "You do not need to worry about any aggression towards Nocturne from Caraborough. Not once has it ever crossed our minds to strike you, especially not in the same way Atraca wishes they could. And of course, we understand this partnership you wish to foster is strictly business. Everything we do is simply business, after all. So let us speak business, yes?" He steps forward from behind Rigo's desk and takes a comfortable seat on it; his eyes still holding their gaze at Rupbert. "Now, you wish for us to send laborers to Nocturne, correct? We have many potential laborers in all of Caraborough we are willing to pass ownership over, and not to mention the markets our friends in the Geldmakkers have connections to. However, while we do not care for what becomes of them once they arrive at your shores, we aren't willing to part with them without a fee for each boatload." He looks over at Rigo behind him, who nods in approval. "Unfortunately, this is business that must be discussed with the Geldmakkers themselves, as this is more their field. Though if you wish, to expedite matters and with your invitation, we may send some of our own representatives to broker a deal with your leaders at this 'political circus'. You have our guarantee we will send only our finest, and only for the purposes of formally establishing this partnership."

Again he looks behind him, and Rigo nods once more, though now a very faint smile has formed on his face. He is pleased.

 

[K0mori]

"My late, abusive ex-husband made himself an enemy to my Master, but thanks to an Inquisitor who sold her soul, the man could not be touched. So Sazak had me burned instead, so thoroughly destroyed that the doctors who tended to me called it a 'miracle' that I survived. Of course, we know better. I was kept alive by means of dark magic for my torment, and his- vicariously. My poor Francis," she said sarcastically, "he really did love me, in his terrible way. And once my father came to shoo him away and whisk me back to our family home, Francis became one of Velin's mercenaries. That's when Master returned to make things right with me.

"He gave me my new eyes, which see more than they could before. He gave me back my beauty, and cleansed my mind, erasing the shame. I am his loyal servant and messenger now, but... if I ever betray him, he will take this charm from me," she explained, pointing to the necklace. "My soul cannot exist in this world without its protection. But I don't fret about it, no. Do you know why?"

Christoph waited politely for the answer.

"Because I love him," Dorothy said. "I really, really do. He says there are many more gifts he can give me, in due time. There is much I will need to do to earn his blessings, but I can wait. I have all the time in the world, believe me. And I have no need to hurry on from this town, either. I've found that whatever might be his will attracts me like a siren song. I'm sure we were meant to meet, Mr. Heilmeier, and that we will meet again."

 

[Infab]

"...I'm sure we were meant to meet, Mr. Heilmeier, and that we will meet again."

"Oh, most certainly." responded Christoph. So Sazak had turned her into a chimera...a stable one. Very interesting. He needed to know more, but he'd lead into the question through an explanation of his own dealings with Sazak. "Sazak certainly has a way with words and people. And you most certainly will continue to earn his blessings and gifts. He always delivers, regardless as to how impossible as it may seem." He glanced down to the end of the scar on his chest, just at the base of his neck. "...And it always hurts at first. But in the end, everything is far better than it was before."

He looked to Dorothy once more. "He came to me while I was toiling away in a small makeshift lab deep in the highlands of Atraca. I had been cast out of the Alchemist's Union...which disrupted my interest in Mass Alchemy. Something not even the Master Alchemists in the Union can achieve. Able to shift and change things on a grand scale instead of a small one." he explained, glancing about as he spoke. "He appeared to me in the form of a rather beautiful blonde woman, with a scar across the side of her mouth. He toured my lab, seemingly interested in the work I had been doing. And after a brief exchange...he offered me something. A chance to master Mass Alchemy, in exchange for some favors. He knew of my work in archeology and my previous occupation in the Union as a historian, and he wished for me to put it to use for him. Locate a simple ring, and an executioner's sword. Both hidden from the world at the end of the Age of Darkness."

"...After consideration, I agreed. And as a sign of good faith...he granted me my wish first. I have...numerous enhancing crystals embedded throughout my muscular structure. Amplifying my alchemical abilities. Not long afterwards, I was off...searching far and wide for the objects he requested. And I found them, and made sure the ring and sword wound up in Sazak's hands." he said, before looking back to Dorothy. "...How did your encounter with Sazak go?...What was it like?"

------
​

Blair seemed a bit surprised by the quiet girl's request. Master Heilmeier instructed me not to blow anything up unless it was to entertain the children...and this would certainly do just that! "Certainly!" she responded after Theodore spoke again. "We'll need to find a spot away from everyone. Lets not send the people here at the Summit into a panic!" she stated. "But first, let me give you a demonstration of Alchemy. There are two forms of Alchemy in the world. One involving chemicals and the like. Potions, drinks, and so on! That is not what the Union deals in primarily, but we do dabble in it. Our alchemy is best described as...Magical Science!"

She began to remove her gloves, revealing tattoos marking her hands and arms. She rolled up her sleeves, revealing even more markings. Most looked like odd sigils and lines. "The marks and sigils of Alchemy...Usually alchemists draw these on locations where they plan to perform alchemy, using ink or paint. Since that can take some time, some alchemists tattoo the alchemical marks and sigils on their bodies!" She then drew what appeared to be a gold coin from her pocket. "A single, gold coin. Atracan. Recently manufactured! Now observe, children!" she stated. She placed the coin in her palm, then pressed her hands together. There was a flash of light, as the tattoos marking her arms and hands flashed red briefly. And then she removed one hand to reveal that the golden coin had turned into lead.

"A lead coin. A reversal of a classic. Most want to turn lead into gold, but there's a problem with that...It can throw off the world economy if done in large amounts! So the Union has laws preventing the conversion of lead into gold, along with other things." she stated, before pressing her hands back together. Another flash of light, her tattoos glowing red briefly yet again, and the lead coin was now gold again. She tucked the coin away, before smiling at the children. "Now, lets go make something go boom!" she said, motioning for the group to follow her as she moved towards one of the open areas away from the large crowds in the streets.

 

[Breadman]

The neat little trick did it's job. The children were intrigued by the alchemist's abilities. But that was just an appetizer. Theodore on the other hand found the tattoos far more interesting. He had experience with alchemy during his career and had to draw many combinations from the alchemist's table in order to achieve the needed results, but it surprisingly never occurred to him to tattoo them somewhere. The solution was obvious now that he was looking at it.

"Come on now. You don't want to miss this." The teacher said as the small herd followed both of them to where Blair was leading them. "I have to say. I am rather pleased with the stroke of luck meeting you, mademoiselle." He spoke to her as they walked "Given how ready you are to demonstrate your capabilities, it goes against the Union's strict reputation. I was expecting to need to argue for a demonstration from your colleagues honestly."

 

[K0mori]

Dorothy recalled the stormy night to Christoph, when Sazak appeared on her doorstep and introduced himself, how he restored her sight with his magic and then convinced her to take a deal- which wasn't difficult, of course, as her life after the fire had been utter and complete misery. "He placed this charm around my neck before it began, and told me it would keep me anchored to this world," she explained. "I didn't know what he meant, at first..."

---

Braumwich, Atraca
One Week Prior
​

"Not a vampire? Then what-" Dorothy began to ask, only to be gently shushed by her demonic guest. Sazak, in the form of a female vessel, was still sitting comfortably in her father's chair by the fireplace.

"Shhh... Come now, Dorothy, if I answered all of your banal questions, would it really make a difference? No... You've been such a lamb; always suffering with nothing to show. Isn't it time you had a bit of fun? I'm offering you a chance to take your life back, and I know you will, darling. That joy you showed me when I gave you back your eyes- I can give it to you without the shame; it isn't difficult at all. And I know you'd rather have it than to die a martyr."

Dorothy didn't argue with her assessment, but there was still a great fear on her mind. "What about the church, and Velin?" she rasped. "They're killing non-humans. My father says that the cursed folks are condemned to the Abyss."

Sazak flashed a grin. "You'll blend in, but besides that... The Abyss is a very different place when you're good friends with an Icon of Sin. Velin can damn you all she wants, but she can't make you suffer if Hell doesn't cooperate." She stood from the old stuffed chair and approached Dorothy, who shrank back but didn't flee. "Sweet Dorothy, I don't have all night," she demanded.

Dorothy felt the room spinning. So many nights she lay in bed, praying to the gods to send mercy to her, either through healing or through death. But aside from Velin, the gods seemed to work in obscurity, or perhaps they had decided to neglect the world entirely. Was she really so pathetic that Hell had taken pity on her? But here Sazak was, in her feminine vessel, hands on her hips and waiting for an answer. It was surreal, and Dorothy wouldn't have time to reconsider. How could she trust her?

And then Dorothy remembered why she had been burned in the first place: Sazak had made a deal with another not to harm Francis directly, and she had honored that bargain to the letter. If Sazak promised Dorothy that she would rediscover joy in her life, and be protected in the afterlife... Somehow, it had to be true. "I- I-" she stammered. "I accept, whatever it is, I accept it..." she said, her scarred vocal chords barely producing a hiss.

Sazak presented the charm on its delicate thread, and tied it around Dorothy's neck tight enough that it wouldn't slip off over her head. "This is a piece of the Abyss," she explained, "to keep your soul anchored to the mortal world. Without it, you'll go where all demons and part-demons go, sooner rather than later. Promise that you'll never give me a reason to take this back, and we'll both be happy."

"Part-demons?" Dorothy asked.

"Chimera," Sazak clarified. "A taste of real living, without the inconvenience of being trapped beyond the Abyssal gates. Now... brace yourself," she added playfully. Dorothy had barely enough time to grab hold of a chair back before Sazak lifted her hand, placing one finger tip squarely on Dorothy's forehead, and began to speak some incantation in a language which Dorothy didn't understand, but which caused her intense pain and physical illness to hear. In Sazak's other hand, a spherical object marked with runes seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Perhaps it had been in her pocket, or perhaps the demon had summoned it somehow; Dorothy did not know.

The room seemed to tip backwards and shift out of form, the walls and shadows bending and warping with each word, until a third eye opened in Dorothy's mind; the auras of previously mundane objects appeared to her as a vampire would sense them. The clock chimed again, a more hellish tone it had never sounded, and the room was filled with a wicked laughter- which Dorothy soon realized she was creating. The evil language flowing from Sazak's tongue no longer bothered her, and the pain and numbness throughout her body had been purged away as she healed completely. But by far, the most astonishing thing was the lack of regret or remorse for what she had just agreed to. Her mind was peaceful. It was organized. Her emotions were neatly in check.

And as Sazak lowered her hand and admired her work, Dorothy felt nothing but loving gratitude for her new friend. "All done, dear. That wasn't so bad, was it? ...And there's more to come, as long as you don't disappoint me, Dorothy. I need you to do something for me now."

"You want me to go to Red Gorge...?" Dorothy replied, unsure of where the notion had come from. But when Sazak smiled and nodded in response, she felt a sense of joy wash over her simply to have her approval. "Yes, master. I-immediately!" And she set about gathering her things for the journey southward into the dry country. By the time her father Harold returned home, Dorothy had long departed, and while he wandered about the surrounding area in a torrential downpour calling her name desperately, Harold would never see her again.

---
​

Dorothy finished telling her story to Christoph. The clues she had given to the process of her transformation were vague; there had been the "piece of the Abyss" to protect her, the strange artifact in Sazak's hand, and the mysterious Abyssal incantation that somehow altered her very soul. But as she finished speaking, she suddenly remarked, "oh, I do apologize sir, but I think I've told you what I was supposed to tell you. I hope you found this worthwhile."

 

[Infab]

Christoph listened intently, greatly interested in the story that Dorothy provided regarding her encounter with their mutual friend. What exactly was the strange artifact that Sazak had used? He knew of several Abyssal artifacts in general. The various weapons, armors, and objects belonging to the dead Kings, Queens, and Icons of the Abyss. There was also the Abyssal Crown, the artifact crafted by the first Abyssal monarch. It would certainly have the power to create Chimera. Christoph grew more interested the more he thought about it. Perhaps more Chimera could be made? Stable ones, of course. Not the ones that would turn into half demons and eventually find themselves pulled into the Abyss. Something that those that were born half-demons didn't have to worry about. Perhaps even Angelic Chimera were possible as well? That would be a sight, if Dorothy looked as she did now as a half-demon.

"Certainly an interesting tale, Dorothy. And I did find it worthwhile, thank you." he said, smiling. Sazak wanted her to tell him all this. He was certain of it. The question was why? A backup plan? Something to enhance the ranks of the demonic horde when Taranoch decided to breech through to the Mortal Realm once again? He'd have to do research. And some traveling. "It has been a pleasure meeting another of Sazak's many friends and associates. I shouldn't hold you here for too long, since I'm sure that he wishes for you to do other things here. Give him my regards when you see him again, will you?"

------
​

Blair grinned, looking back to Theodore. "I'm more than willing to demonstrate my alchemical abilities! I never did like how stuffy some of my colleagues were when it came to our work, though now-a-days you'll find more like me than before. The higher-ups have started to relax some of the strict rules that have been put in place." she replied. "I'm surprised the children didn't ask about our dress code. It's certainly odd to most!" she stated, as they finally arrived at the clear location. It was off to the side, in an open field of grass near the cemetery where Undite had hurried off into earlier.

Once there, she turned to the children. "Now! Another demonstration! Observe, children!" she said, walking over to a spot a few feet away. She leaned down, placing her hand on the ground. Her tattoos glowed red once more, and she slowly pulled her hand up off the ground. The ground, shockingly, moved with it, as a square cube of hardened dirt and stone formed beneath her hand! "A suitable base for my activities! We Alchemists can manipulate materials and the environment, shifting and restructuring atoms using trace amounts of magic! Thus the term 'Magical Science'." She kept her hand pressed against the cube, and suddenly the dirt began to transform. Turning into solid stone!

She then moved around behind it. "Now! I shall be crafting...a small explosive! A simple stick of dynamite, of course. Nothing fancy, since that would probably be dangerous and something the townsfolk wouldn't like!" she stated, before fishing around in her vest pockets. Various materials were drawn out, and she got to work. Each material was changed and shifted about, forming the materials to craft a singular stick of dynamite. And soon, she was finished. "Perfection! And now...to test it!" she said. She drew a single match out of a pocket inside her vest, struck it using the end of her thumb, and lit the fuse jutting out of the end of the stick.

She then quickly turned about and flung the stick as far as she could. "Cover your ears, please!" she said, as she turned back to the children. They did as requested, and soon enough...BOOM! The dynamite detonated, sending dirt and grass into the air and leaving a small crater! Some of the locals stopped, wondering just what was going on. They were quickly, and enthusiastically, waved at by Blair. And it wasn't long before some soldiers came over to investigate.