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

[Breadman]

I'm surprised the children didn't ask about our dress code. It's certainly odd to most!

"Heh, I think the answer to that is quite obvious my dear." Theodore pointed to his face. "This is a sight they see every day for the past year and a half they have attended classes." he tapped the glass of his goggles "They know me as not only their teacher, but scientist and inventor. You are certainly striking in your own way, but you have to admit a top hat and goggles and the rest of your attire wouldn't surprise them as much after interacting with a dwarf-like individual who wears a full face mask. They likely think all us scientists and researchers wear these outfits as the norm." He shrugged as he let her work and show off her skills.

As his students were in awe from the demonstrations brought by the marriage of science and magic, he was busy taking notes. In his years as an archivist, he had time to study many schools of both enough to know of them and to get a good grasp of the basics, but never to the level of mixing them together as she did. His talents were more mundane and practical. Blair's transmutation talents were already demonstrated, but not in such an elegant way. When she produced the stick of dynamite however, he raised an eyebrow. Was it that easy to carry around materials and to craft explosives seemingly at will? Would have come in use a few years ago, but also the dangers such an ability posed was immense. With each new reveal, his concern over the union only grew. The throw snapped him out of his train of thoughts, the following explosion really grounded him back with reality.

"That...was...AWESOME!" Jessica shouted as she lowered her hands from her ears. Her face lid up with joy from the explosion, he'd have to keep an eye on her for the future. "DO IT AGAIN!"

"Mr. Boivin, I can't hear so good." one of the other kids tucked his sleeve for attention "Help!" Theodore made a downwards motion with his fingers around his ears. The boy figured out what he meant and gave a short 'oh'. Giving an awkward look, he lowered his hands from his ears. "I can hear ok now. Thanks." His teacher just shook his head.

It seemed like the demonstration had attracted more than people who want to learn. Theodore told the goblins to keep the kids safe and moved a few steps ahead.

"Good day, constables!" He greeted the men "Excuse the noise, we're just conducting science experiments and well..." He looked back to Blair and then back to the soldiers "It seems like some of them went off better than others."

 

[Dmaster]

Camille meandered about the town with a frown on her face, having developed a rather splitting headache from all of the tension and excitement that the day had brought her. She never would have thought that she would encounter pure chaos the moment she stepped off the train, never mind this was the last thing she pictured herself doing during that boring stretch of travel either. Presently she was going to search for a place to acquire some half-decent wine to deal with the inconvenient pain she was experiencing, stepping along the sandy road before another bit of excitement hit her.

Several blocks down she heard the detonation of an explosive, her eyes going wide as she rushed toward the origin of the blast. Withdrawing her weapons, she produced a gleaming sharp sabre and an accompanying dagger as she broke into a sprint. The huntress knew who was responsible, and she was cursing herself for giving them a chance rather than turning them in immediately.

Arriving on the scene she was at least glad to see soldiers moving in to investigate, but she could not let her guard down. When it came to Blair a single explosive was just a herald for more traps and destruction lying in wait. "You!" she hissed, stepping in front of the soldiers as she pointed her sword at the alchemist. "I warned you about whatever you were planning - and if you move another muscle a dagger will be plunged right into your eye!"

Looking about, she saw Theodore and his class, giving her some slight pause. No time to question that now, she had to keep her guard iup!

 

[Infab]

Blair chuckled. "Don't worry." she stated, motioning to the children. "As my scholarly friend here stated, just some experiments to show this class the wonders of Alchemy! Nothing to be concerned about." She soon grinned, and the soldiers seemed to relax a bit. At least, until Camille charged through them and pointed her sword at Blair.

"You!" she hissed, stepping in front of the soldiers as she pointed her sword at the alchemist. "I warned you about whatever you were planning - and if you move another muscle a dagger will be plunged right into your eye!"

Blair tilted her head to the side, before pointing a finger towards Theodore and the children. "...I was demonstrating a bit of Alchemy for these fine children, at the request of their teacher...But I can see that paranoia of yours is still running particularly rampant!" She then raised her arms up, as if she were forming a cross. "You can search me, Raven lady. Or you can have the soldiers there do it. There's no plot! No conspiracy! I'm here to enjoy myself and entertain the little ones!"

Eventually another voice spoke up. "Well now, what's all this?" said a male voice, from behind the soldiers and Camille. A gentleman in a top hat had appeared, strolling past them to see Blair. "Miss Lockhart...Showing the little ones the tricks of the trade, are we?" he asked, flashing a smile to the children. Blair nodded. "Yes, Master Heilmeier. Before bird lady here decided to intervene."

Christoph glanced to Camille. "Ahhh. Camille Giguere. The famous vampire huntress of Escaria. A pleasure to finally meet you." he said, tipping his hat as he bowed slightly. "Christoph Heilmeier. Master Alchemist, Archeologist, and Historian."

 

[Dmaster]

Camille was unconvinced of Blair's story, though seeing Theodore and her class again did make it an increasing likelihood. Being called paranoid prompted her to grit her teeth, ready to either slash into her or request the soldiers to search her - but another individual got her to pause.

She looked to the man in the top hat, not very fond of alchemists at this stage and he was not doing them any favors currently. "Are you her superior, then? This woman nearly thwarted the inquiry in Grimtham by detonating explosives as we were chased by a mad nosferatu." Camille explains, looking to Christoph before she glared at Theodore.

"... Frankly I am surprised that could escape certain company. Regardless, I have my reasons to believe she could sabotage the summit."

 

[Breadman]

"Camille?" Theodore responded once he saw the huntress again "What is this about?" The former archivist was at a loss of what was going on. Obviously they met before and judging by the tip of the sword being pointed at Blair, it didn't end well. Christoph's arrival didn't seem to ease any tension. Before he could say anything else Camille dropped the bomb on him about Blair's involvement with Grimtham. "I see. Excuse me for a moment." He muttered under his breath. He turned back to his class.

"Children, it's been a long day and there is still much to do, but a certain situation requires my attention, so our trip for today is done." He spoke to them in a more serious tone. "Frizz, Galiwax, the school isn't too far off from here, escort the class back, round up some of your friends if you have to." The small creatures nodded and off they went.

"Aw, I wanted to see a fight." One of them grumbled, but a quick glance from his teacher was all he would get for his pouting. Some of them said their goodbyes with Blair and Camille while the rest kept quiet and left, leaving Theodore to focus on current matters.

"Now, Mr. Heilmeier, despite the situation, I am pleased to finally meet you. Theodore Boivin, former Archivist of the order as well as Inquisitor. Current teacher." His head turned to Blair "I may not share Camille's judgement, but I learned during our last expedition to not discard her suspicions. Clearly I must have overlooked a detail. If you were in Grimtham, what was your business there?"

 

[Infab]

Blair went to reply, but didn't speak as Christoph spoke for her. "At the request of the late Duke Ashwood, I sent her to assist him in some alchemical matters. The Duke and I were old friends...but not close enough friends to be filled in on his nefarious plans. He charmed Blair, and used her explosive talents to try and stop you and your group. That Nosferatu that you speak of, Ser Edmond, broke the charm and sent her away before she could be killed by your group. He saved her life."

Blair looked at Camille, motioning both hands towards her teacher and giving her a wide eyed look. "I barely remember the lot of you, and remember little about what I actually did. I remember setting a few traps, and setting up some explosives, but that's all. And I was forced to do that by Ashwood!"

 

[Dmaster]

Camille squinted her eyes at both Blair and Christoph. Again with the excuse of her being charmed. Once again Camille was forced to believe such a shoddy excuse as she sheathed her weapons, twirling them to an underhanded position before sliding them behind her back. Ashwood was a powerful vampire, but she was certain that Blair had not been charmed. If Christoph was covering for her too...

"Hearing her mess about with explosives so soon after I encountered her does nothing for my suspicion." she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. "I am still not entirely convinced, but if Monsieur Boivin had asked for the demonstration my hands are tied."

"I won't apologize for my suspicion, however. You tried to kill us so therefore I do not trust you in the least. Compris?"

 

[Breadman]

"I confirm that I did ask her for a demonstration after finding out she was a member of the Alchemist union." Theodore crossed his arms behind his back. So she was the one that nearly killed them with those traps. And she admitted to working for Ashwood. There was something to Christoph's explanation that made him narrow his eyes behind the goggles "So he asked for assistance from one of your own, a rather good one I might add, but doesn't disclose anything with you?"

"I have to say, your standards really have slipped if you had no idea or no oversight of such an operation he was running." He shifted to Blair, a possible victim of a vampire charm. Something that he was very familiar with. If she was lying like Camille claims, then the contempt is well earned. "Vampire charms are a very touchy subject. One thing in particular that has stood out to me in all my years investigating them was the power play. Those who prayed upon the innocent had the habit of keeping their enthralled's minds intact. Make them aware of what they're doing, but do nothing to fight back. Seems that is your case. For that you have my condolences." He turned to Camille "The nosferatu talked of honor and dignity near the end of his life. His actions nearly killed us, but he was fighting against the monster manipulating us. As unlikely as it is, I don't think we can discount the possibility of him breaking the charm spell of his master. Nosferatu abilities aren't as well documented as their other brethren."

 

[Infab]

"Hearing her mess about with explosives so soon after I encountered her does nothing for my suspicion." she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. "I am still not entirely convinced, but if Monsieur Boivin had asked for the demonstration my hands are tied."

"I won't apologize for my suspicion, however. You tried to kill us so therefore I do not trust you in the least. Compris?"

Blair shrugged. "Okay. Honestly, I'm surprised you're able to trust anyone, with how hard paranoia strikes you." she said, before Christoph spoke again. "Miss Lockhart, try not to anger the Huntress. We don't need idiotic fights at the moment. Especially the day before a historic event." Blair looked to her teacher, before sighing. "Yes, Master Heilmeier. I will restrain myself in the future." she said.

"I have to say, your standards really have slipped if you had no idea or no oversight of such an operation he was running."

"Everyone's standards must have slipped, because a select few outside of his circle of vampiric allies knew of his intentions. You remember, of course, the outing of several of his partners by the Inquisitors...and the subsequent purging that Velin began once they were brought to her attention." responded Christoph. "...I was saddened to learn that Ashwood was harboring such ill intent towards the rest of human kind. I wish I had known so that I could have made an attempt to talk him down...or even stop him before things were set in motion."

"But...I didn't know. I assumed he simply wanted to use Miss Lockhart's expertise for the festivals. Instead he was doing something far sinister." finished Christoph, before looking to Blair. "...Anyway, Ashwood is dead. His plan, foiled by you two and the others. Miss Lockhart is herself again, no longer influenced by a vampire's charm, and has been cleared by investigative services as well as the Inquisitors. She's not a threat to you, Huntress, or anyone else. She is but an Alchemist, working for the Union of Alchemists. And an entertainer of children, from the looks of things."

 

[Dmaster]

She nodded in agreement with Theodore's assessment. "That is true, I had never fought a nosferatu up until that point, though I wouldn't call him an altruist. We saw the aftermath of what he did to that small town." the huntress replied with a sigh and shake of her head. "It is possible, but I would not stake my life on that possibility."

Camille tightened her lips as she was called paranoid yet again. "If we're repeating ourselves again, I have to say that paranoia is integral to my line of work. If I have my guard down or even forget a face I could be as good as dead." she stated rather flatly, glaring through the alchemist. "If you aren't guilty of anything there is nothing to fear, non?" She tilts her head slightly at the question, only to look to Christoph in turn.

"And in foiling one plan..." Another's was successful. Camille mumbles the words quietly to herself, clearly not all too pleased about the inquiry's ultimate outcome. The odd mumbling is broken up by a soft chuckling. "Ah, monsieur of course you and your apprentice are threats to people. You wield powers I not only find esoteric but no doubt quite destructive. Suffice it to say my suspicions are piqued by finding Blair among you as well as meeting with your president before they departed for Nocturne's delegation." Tapping her foot, she twists her mouth idly. "Innocent or not, they are still considered terrorists and radicals here in Atraca. Until the summit takes proper action to resolve that I will continue to treat them as such."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Meanwhile, back in the Abyss...

Abandoned Leakhena Family Farm, Land of Gluttony.


​

A pile of yanked weeds bristle gently as the wind blows softly over them. Soon, more is added to the pile, and more, and more as they’re yanked and uprooted out of their natural habitat within the outer walls of Leakhena’s home. The cracks and gaps they once filled in are repaired with some more wood, some more paint, and a little dash of magic from Zebulon now that his strength had returned to him again. Ever since he’s arrived at her house and witnessed the sorry looking state of disrepair it’s in, he’s made it his job to clean it up and fix it as best as he could. Now with his power coming back to him thanks to that nice band of heroes and Leakhena he met earlier, it’s already beginning to look good as new. Though as he repairs and mends, he can’t stop thinking to himself a painfully rhetorical question: ‘Just why did Leakhena ever let it get this bad?’ he mulls as he works. Much of the property is enchanted to never deteriorate, he can feel that emanating from just about everywhere, but the greenhouse is a jagged green heap of shattered glass and bent steel, the barn and stable is caving in on itself, the weeds slithering out of the rice paddy have already consumed half the house and are slowly working on the other half, and the stone walkway to the front door has been completely torn up. Just what in the world happened? What the hell did that woman do? Yet he sighs and shakes his head as he knows the answer already. The way she walked like a hollow on the way home from work, with her clothes completely disheveled and stained with patches of her own blood; he knows. But he can’t help but dwell on it in his mind as he picks up broken glass off the dirt and tears weeds off the walls. Regardless, when she comes back, he hopes she’ll be happy with what he’s done with her home so far. If she comes back…

Though now finally satisfied with his handiwork after many hours spent remodeling, he wipes the thick drips of sweat off of his brow and starts walking towards the front door. If the outside was any indication, then the inside is probably worse. He takes a deep breath in anticipation, and pushes the door open once it’s unlocked. The floorboards under his feet creak as he walks through towards the living room.

Obviously nothing's changed ever since Vincent and the rest have been here, but it was still dusty. Layers of it were covering just about everything, masking the once vibrant room to a dull grey, but it looks better than he expected at least; even with all the random bottles of alcohol thrown around here and there. Every shelf is dusted, every table is wiped, and all the floors in the living room swept and cleaned. The portraits were cleaned of dust as well, though with great care taken to ensure he wouldn’t accidentally damage them. The kitchen is in a similar sate; neglected to the point of disrepair. The stove and ovens were coated in patches of dust and muck, and all the utensils and tools were quite rusty. Once those are out of the way, he inspects this white looking box tucked away in the corner of a kitchen. This must be one of those 'iceboxes' that's become frequent in the mortal realm now. It's cold to the touch, colder than the rest of the room, and he opens it out of curiosity. A gust of frozen air rushes across his face as he looks inside. There's a few trays and jars holding fresh vegetables, mushrooms, roots, all sorts of plants she's harvested from her farm. Strangely, there's no meat. Everything inside is all plant food. The only thing that's as red as meat inside are a few sliced tomatoes sitting in a bowl of noodles along with other assorted vegetables. Surprisingly, it seems like Leakhena's a vegetarian, though it's easy for Zebulon to figure out why. Butchering all those humans and demons for Thorgran to eat must've made her lose her appetite for eating meat. In any case, the icebox looks clean so there's nothing left for him to do in the kitchen or in the living room.

With the first floor of the house done, he moves up the stairway onto the second. Unlike the first floor, there are no footprints on the dusty floor. No one had been up here in a while; not even Vincent's group was when they passed by. The top of the stairway led to a hallway with two doors on each end, and a smaller door in the middle. The smaller door leads up to the attic which there isn't much of inside save for some old furniture and a few boxes and tools. There's not much he can do here, so he moves down to one of the doors. This one is partially open though something nasty wafts through the air the closer he moves in. It smells a lot like... alcohol? Carefully, and holding his breath, he pushes the door gently... and it comes right off its hinges and falls down to the floor with a crash, covering Zebulon in dust and the thick musty stench of beer. He has to lean on the wall just to stop himself from keeling over in a fit of coughing. Finally after regaining control, he cautiously looks inside.

The room inside is a total mess. The furniture inside has been tipped over and thrown around which left clothes and personal belongings all over the place, there's gashes and scuff marks all over the walls, and there's even more bottles of alcohol thrown around! There's more here than there was in all of the living room, and some of them were even half-full. Everything looks trashed, as if someone came here and began smashing everything. Yet no one's been here for centuries, and nothing looks like it's been taken so this couldn't have been a burglary. There's no signs of forced entry either, and the way the door's broken was from the inside of this room. Though he sees something familiar under a wooden drawer and several empty bottles: an over-sized grey coat with a few stains here and there. He knows exactly who it belongs to. Upon seeing the coat and connecting the dots, Zebulon's heart sinks as the picture's clear now. This is Leakhena's bedroom he's standing in, and with nothing else to prove otherwise, she's trashed it; more than likely in a fit of grief and frustration at Thorgran's brutal abuse towards her. Thank the gods that monster's now out of action...

The bottles need to be cleaned up first since there's so many of them that it's hard to step anywhere without breaking one. They're thrown out the window onto the piles of trash and debris he'll have to wagon out to a dump later. Next, the thrown about clothing is neatly folded. It's all put back in the drawers and cabinets once they're put back in place. As for the walls, some of the impact marks have things stuck inside of them. One of them even had a turkey bone sticking out of it, oddly enough. They're handled with care as he extracts them. Finally, after everything else had been taken care of, comes the bed. The sheets are neatly draped over the mattress and the pillows are fluffed. There was also a stuffed doll he found on the floor. That too is placed on the bed. Zebulon smiles to himself, happy that her home is almost done looking decrepit and depressing. There's one last place he needs to inspect, though.

Unlike Leakhena's bedroom, the door on the other end of the hall just will not open. For some mysterious reason, it's been enchanted, and in a much stronger manner than the rest of the entire house is. He doesn't want to break it down yet so he tries twisting the knob beyond its constraints, shoving it open, and even looking for a keyhole somewhere. Nothing is working, so it'll have to be the hard way then. With every ounce of his strength, he focuses it all on his fist as it glows hot, and throws it against the door. It explodes in a shower of splinters as Zebulon's fist breaks through the barrier. Now with it gone, he steps inside into another bedroom, though this one is not only larger, it's also completely spotless. There's no mess here, no clothes strewn about, no bottles of booze, no cracks, not even dust is on anything. This is strange... This is very strange. 'Did Leakhena put up that barrier? Why would she do that?' Whatever reason she had, he'll have to ask her if he ever sees her again.

As he looks around, he notices some of the furnishings on one side look Redonian, while the other side was covered in Escarian decor. Even the sheet on the massive bed reflected this. One side was red with Redonian patterns, while the other had a simple blue stripe pattern. Obviously, this is her parents bedroom, and the portrait above the bed made that very clear. Something's off about it however, and he steps closer to take a better look. This isn't like the ones in the living room, this one's a bit more recent. Leakhena's on it, once again identified by wearing something grey, but it's not a coat this time. Instead, she's just an infant here, and she is bundled in a blanket while being held up by two smiling ascended demons; Leakhena's parents. One is a clearly a Redonian woman, while the other is a man who looks a little Redonian, but not quite. Both of them stand next to eachother while happily carrying a sleeping baby Leakhena in their arms. Judging by how they look and how much the color's not faded much compared to the other portraits downstairs, this must've been painted sometime after the both of them fully ascended. Curiously, he takes it off the wall to get a better look at their eyes to see if they really did. As he does however, a wall panel slides off from behind, exposing a hidden cabinet! The door just fell off, revealing an old personal lock box. Now, what could be inside here? It looks sizable enough that it could hold just about anything, really. It's not his business, but not even Leakhena's ever dared to venture into this room for a long time, it seems. It's not like he'd take it either; he's no thief. With a careful shake and a pull, the lid comes off. What's inside is... not what he expected. Inside is a folded piece of paper, a booklet, a pendant, and a stack of gold coins. The gold coins look fairly new, but on closer inspection, the markings appear to have been made back in Escaria during the Age of Darkness. Who knows how much it's worth now? He isn't going to find out, it's not his money anyway, so he gently pushes them to a corner of the box. The booklet's fairly old too. The leather cover is completely blank, and the pages seem to be nothing but endless phrases and ways to say things in Escarian that have been translated into the demon's tongue, and vice versa. The pendant is hooked on a black string, and there's a little button on its side that opens it up when its pressed, it reveals a smaller version of the family portrait. As for the paper, he unfolds it. It's a letter, and it's been written very hastily apparently.

Daughter, from your father.

Thorgran has not been happy with me lately. You know. You see me coming home the way I do. Things may get worse.
Soon, they will come for your mother and I for the last time. They will take more. I may be gone when you find this. But do not be afraid. In here are things that will help you.
They will help you in the place where Thorgran cannot go. Use the book. Use the lessons I taught you. Go and find anyone alive from Kaizen's circle. Show them the pendant. They will help you.
Take the money. Go to Escaria. You know how to get there. Once you are there, keep going. Do not let Thorgran catch you. He will hurt you the way he hurt me.

Don't ever look back Loque, but know that we will always love you.

-Du grand Z au petit L.​

Oh... that's what all this is for. The Escarian coins, the phrase book, the pendant, and this letter... all these things in this box were supposed to help Leakhena escape the Abyss. It was all to help her escape to the mortal realm and live there away from all this misery. If she got there, then she wouldn't be enslaved by Thorgran, she wouldn't end up in Irin and Karlel's hands, and she wouldn't turn decadent just like those that ruined her.

...But she never found it. It's too late to do anything with it now. Far too late.

Zebulon cannot stand looking at this letter anymore. He throws it aside on the bed and walks away leaning on the wall and holding his chest; trying to hold the broken pieces of his heart together. He feels weak. He saw her coming to and home from work every single day. He saw what it did to her, and what it turned her into. But now that he knows it all could've been avoided so easily makes him feel sick. There's still work to be done around her home, but he cannot continue, not with how he feels...

He might have to tell Tariun about this...

 

[Breadman]

"Oh I agree. The inquisition's standards have been more questionable than satisfactory for a long time leading up to the purges." Theodore turned back to Christoph "It's why I've been working with the Order for the past few days to overcome them."

"Mademoiselle Blair may just be an Alchemist as you describe." The insistence didn't sit right with him. A career like his is proof enough that the phrase 'just a alchemist' is a obvious dismissal, coming from him, an attempt to hide something. Theodore was beginning to consider Camille's side more and more. "I'm sure the children were grateful for her time entertaining and teaching them something about the subject...but I must echo the Marquess' words that the Union is dabbling with potent forces. She may not have the training to recognize the symbols and formulas used, but I do. And I'd be lying if the talents your protege demonstrated today didn't make me consider what applications they might have. Both civilian and otherwise."

"But yes, these are subjects that will hopefully be covered at the summit." He shrugged. There really was nothing else he could do currently. Despite his help with Sara for the Church, he was a retired inquisitor, now school teacher. Hardly someone who could influence events greatly at his current station. "Best case scenario, we have nothing to fear and the tension is dissolved." The worst case, he didn't even want to imagine.

 

[Infab]

"Ah, monsieur of course you and your apprentice are threats to people. You wield powers I not only find esoteric but no doubt quite destructive. Suffice it to say my suspicions are piqued by finding Blair among you as well as meeting with your president before they departed for Nocturne's delegation." Tapping her foot, she twists her mouth idly. "Innocent or not, they are still considered terrorists and radicals here in Atraca. Until the summit takes proper action to resolve that I will continue to treat them as such."

Christoph nodded. "...You may believe what you wish, Huntress. Regardless as to if it is right or not." he said, tucking a hand into his coat pocket. "The Union President is here obviously for diplomatic and business reasons. The Union is, after all, an international organization. The Union is also the reason Daristein is a civilized, industrialized, and truly modern republic. Leading the way in technological and societal advancements."

"...And that means the Union has various kinds of pull. But look at it this way: the Union will take the route that is best for business. Do you think allying with a nation of terrorists is best for business? I think not." he said, finishing before looking to Theodore. "The Union has been 'dabbling' with these potent forces for hundreds of years. Alchemists do not take their powers for granted. We have laws in place to prevent their misuse. The dangers posed are well known, and rogue alchemists are dealt with promptly...We handle our problems rather efficiently, unlike the Church and other organizations."

 

[Dmaster]

The more Christoph spoke the more distrustful she became of him, squinting at him subtly. "Oui, 'obviously'. If only we could all be so logical. I don't think it the best tactical decision for certain vampires to tear throats from innocent people, and yet I still find work." Camille replies coldly. Her hands transition to her hips, looking the two alchemists over before she chuckles again. "But do not mind me. I simply have to check up on these things. The both of you needn't explain yourselves any further."

"Indeed Monsieur Boivin, let us hope that the matters are resolved in such a way that all parties walk away with something they want. Nocturne is welcome to its independence, I say. The leadership, however, will need considerable changes." the huntress states. "I've little idea how the Union plays into all of this aside from their profit margins, though I suppose that may be all it takes to motivate the organization at large." Those who prefer money to morality or ideas never sat well with the Marquess, encountering plenty of those ilk in her formative years.

 

[Breadman]

We handle our problems rather efficiently, unlike the Church and other organizations.

"Your quality control was never in question, monsieur." Theodore grinned under his mask. He hit a nerve it seemed. "It's what you do with said quality that is my worry." He continued, now more relaxed "You made a nation into an economic and technological powerhouse on the continent due to your industrious and inventive collective. How do the Atracans say? I tip my hat to you for that?" he made a motion with his fingers to imitate the phrase.

"End of the day however, you rival the Church in power and influence and I trust you about the same."

 

[Infab]

"You are free to believe and trust whomever and whatever you like, sir. As I've already told the Huntress." stated Christoph, smiling. Blair was visibly fuming, glaring at Camille after her little chuckle. Christoph decided to cut things short, so that Blair wouldn't eventually come unglued. "Miss Lockhart, let's move on. I'm sure these two wish to enjoy the rest of their evening and prepare for the Summit tomorrow." Blair glanced to Christoph. "...Yes, Master Heilmeier." she muttered, before glancing to Theodore. She drew out the gold coin she had converted to lead before, before tossing it to the short scholarly teacher. "Give this to that little girl. The quiet one." she said rather bluntly, before walking over to where Christoph was standing.

Christoph looked to Camille after a moment. "Pleasant evening to you both." he said, cutting a glance to Theodore. Afterwards, he turned about, walking away from the pair with Blair in tow. Once out of earshot, Blair looked to her teacher. Christoph spoke before she could say anything. "Avoid doing things to attract their attention. Otherwise, we'll be dealing with them for the rest of the summit. However long it may last." Blair nodded. "Yes, Master Heilmeier...I'd rather not have to suffer through a migraine because of that bitch."

The two soldiers that had ventured over looked to one another, and simply shrugged before turning back about and resuming their patrols. This was a bit over their heads...and above their paygrade.

 

[Dmaster]

"Do take care, now." Camille said to the both of them, though she continued to eye them suspiciously once they turned their backs to leave. One hand to her hip still she turns to Theodore, taking a deep breath in an effort to relax herself a bit better. "Terribly sorry to put a damper on the tour, Theodore. I have been trying to get better about those things, I promise." the huntress said, a nervous smile on her face as she began to walk away from the clearing now that the alchemists were way out of ear shot.

"As I understand it such excitement is possibly the last thing you are looking for at this stage, oui? I do not think you went from hunting to a simple school teacher just to get wrapped up in politics and intrigue all over again..."

 

[Breadman]

Give this to that little girl. The quiet one.

"She'll be delighted to have it." Despite the exchange, Theodore couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Blair. If she was a victim of being charmed by a vampire as they say she was, then he couldn't help it. "Do take care of yourself." He nodded and waved the alchemists goodbye as they departed before turning his attention to Camille.

Terribly sorry to put a damper on the tour, Theodore. I have been trying to get better about those things, I promise. As I understand it such excitement is possibly the last thing you are looking for at this stage, oui? I do not think you went from hunting to a simple school teacher just to get wrapped up in politics and intrigue all over again...

"I came here to help Jacob and his agency, remember?" Theodore answered her with an upbeat tone in his voice. "Teaching is my second job. And I'm sure the children will forgive your interruption in time." He joked, but there was a bit of truth in it. They're probably already hatching up stories of what transpired here and will compete with each other on who will make a better tale.

"With everything going on, I'm surprised that this was my first entanglement with politics. You'd think my dealing with Inquisitor Reed would have caused it sooner." The scholar pocketed the lead coin. It would make for a good memento from the trip for his student. "Could have been worse too. We could have had a run-in with the Church's pet knight, Royland and argued about the validity of Velin's actions. Now that's a stubborn rock." He shuttered at the idea of having that argument and where it would eventually lead.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Now, in Red Gorge...​

The boring journey from the Ridge all the way to Red Gorge was as uneventful as it could be. Having to sit for hours on a boat, on a train, and now in a large wagon with nothing really to occupy the time of those sent to meet with the delegation from Nocturne. Thankfully so however, as this is 'enemy territory'. A tense feeling of anxiety hung over each of them as one wrong move and they're all back in prison, or dead. They're not protected by the Ridge anymore. Rigo cannot exert his power here, nor can Kregore and his men save them should they end up in trouble. They're cut off and completely on their own; so the less attention drawn to them, the better. The 'representatives' consisted of one Staafman, one Geldmakker, and a team of Warders to act as protection. The Staafman, a Daristenian werewolf. The Geldmakker, an Eshaxi vampire. The Warders, all cambion, save for two. The reason supernaturals were sent was a gesture of goodwill towards Nocturne, as well as to help facilitate a friendlier atmosphere during talks. None of them were wearing their old colors, obviously enough. Wearing their jumpers to this meeting would not only be inappropriate, it'd also give them away as convicts and criminals. Each of them were wearing some form of civilian clothing to blend in better.

Rudi Frenkel, the Staafman, adjusted his tie and suit as he inspects himself in his pocket mirror. Next to him, the Geldmakker, Basri Gencë, simply sits idly as he's already ensured he's looking his best long before they set sail to the mainland. As for the Warders, some sit still and blankly stare outside while others are rocking back and forth in their seats, eager to start a fight. Unlike the other two, they're not as well dressed. They wear a mixture of normal clothing and their own equipment; ammo belts, bandoleers, armor pads, and the like. Ironically, they look even more like a militia here than they did back home. They all had hoods made of sackcloth over their heads to conceal their identities too, as well as to look intimidating. At least Langa had the decency to look somewhat formal in his coat and scarf. Rudi takes a look outside and sees they're now within city limits. He snaps his fingers to wake everyone up and get their attention.

"Now listen! I will do all the talking to the Archbishop, you understand? I expect not a single peep from any of you unless you are spoken to. Is this clear?"

The others nod in silent confirmation.

"Sehr gut. A partnership with Nocturne is too important for any fuck ups. Lord Rigo is counting on us to get this done, and I am granted by him to respond to any embarrassment from any of you with an execution." He turns to look at the massive figure sitting in the back. "... That includes you too, Warhead."

Kregore simply bows his head in acknowledgement.

"Excellent." he says, rubbing his hands. "Now, Langa, I understand you wish to hear your cousin speak at the summit. This is fine, but do remember we are not hear to get involved in whatever insipid business happening here."

"Of course, of course." Langa responds. "It's not like any of these stupidités matter anyway. I just really want to say hello, is all."

Eventually their wagon stops in front of the building they were told to go to; the Fairweather Estate. The sheer amount of guards and even mages stationed around makes them all wince. Hopefully none of them will bother inspecting their wagon; it's full of the Warders weaponry and ammunition. Rudi wipes his brow and puts on a bandanna around his face to cover up his inmate tattoo before exiting the wagon. "Remember." says Rudi as he gets down. "I will do the talking." He walks up to the gate and knocks on it, trying to get the attention of one of the guards.

"Guten tag! This is the Fairweather Estate, yes? We are the representatives from the 'island'. Lord Rupbert Hampton told us to come here so we may speak to the Archbishop."

 

[Infab]

The evening slowly shifted into night, as the sky turned from blue to a shade of dull orange before eventually the starry sky emerged. Beneath it, out in a grassy field far from Red Gorge to the northwest, a small camp had been set up. A simple fire, a tent, a hollow log from a tree that had fallen centuries ago. Next to the fire, looking at a long silver bullet between their fingers, was Adona. The bullet rotated about, Adona's eyes locked onto it. He had made it himself, for a time yet to come...one final shot to end it all. The gun to fire it would not be his own, however.

Undite's soft voice spoke up, over the crackling of the twigs in the fire. "...You should come to the Summit, Waya. She needs help...She needs your help. I can't do all of this on my own...You know that." she said, her glowing red eyes looking into the fire. Adona nodded. "...I know, Dominique..." he said, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes shifted to Undite, before looking to the bullet again. He rotated it between his fingers one more time, pausing as he read the name etched across the side. Then, he put it away, tucking it into the shirt pocket just over his heart. He then looked to his long time friend, and smiled. "It'd be nice to see her face again. Without her swinging that sword of hers at me, of course." he said, softly chuckling afterwards.

---
​

The morning came quickly enough, as various groups began to climb out of their beds and cots to face the busy day. Morning rituals were performed, baths were taken, breakfasts cooked and eaten. Some ended up out on the streets early to get a better look around the small town before it grew as busy as it was the day before. One of the early risers was King Newmont himself, taking a moment to walk down to the town hall where the summit would be taking place. It was the largest building in town, and just large enough to seat the delegates from each group comfortably at its heart.

He had heard that during the evening, some new delegates had arrived from an 'island' somewhere. They had gone immediately to Nocturne's hotel, and spoke with them before finding lodging somewhere in down. Supernaturals, apparently half-demons and other types. Likely more to try and swing things to support Nocturne's recognition and freedom. He grumbled under his breath as he thought it over. Just what he needed. More insanity.

He stepped inside the central hall where the summit would be held, looking over the large table that they would be sitting around. It reminded him of the circular table that they had sat at when the war between Atraca and Tsavania was being settled. At least these chairs looked more comfortable. There were places around the room for advisors and staff to be seated, and two other floors above so people could observe the proceedings. After all, a public viewing was needed for this. A grand chandelier hung from far above, made of fine crystals and jewels. An elegant piece, even if most would be looking down at the delegates instead of up at the ceiling.

Eventually, a soldier stepped inside behind the king. "Sir, things are set. Everything's ready." said the young man, saluting his leader. "Good. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" replied the Atracan King, turning and walking past the trooper. Back outside in front of the building.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

​

The powerful stench of brewed Eshaxi-style coffee made with lamb's blood fills the overcrowded hotel room the Ridge's own representatives had rented. Though the sun's rising outside, the window blinds are still closed to keep their fellow vampire safe, and the only source of light is from a lamp on a desk beside him. Despite this, the strong smell of coffee being made by Basri is what starts waking the others up. Rudi is the next to rise out of bed and Basri offers him a cup; a special one made without blood in it. He leans on the wall right beside his friend.

"So, how does it feel like being back in the real civilization?" he asks him, taking a sip of his coffee.

Basri rubs his tired face. He's clearly not happy being here in the middle of all these guards, soldiers, and constables walking the streets everywhere. Unlike the others, he felt no assurances of safety at all from the Warders around him. Rudi understands why. "Honestly, sir... I feel safer back home." he responds to Rudi. "We really should've just gone to Nocturne directly instead of this place..."

"Hmph. I don't disagree." Rudi takes another sip. "Personally, I believe the timing is to be blamed. I'm unsure if you've been told but we are close to the final steps of 'die vakbond'. Lord Rigo says this partnership will help us enact it faster. And do it better too."

Basri sighs. "I know... But this better be worth the trouble we're surrounded in."

Rudi nods. "It will! It will... Look on the bright side, friend. We still have front row seats to the largest scheisse-scheisse circus of the century! At least that promises to be entertaining."

"For you it'll be. Not for me." says a voice coming out of the washroom. Langa walks out wearing a towel around his waist. "And that is if they don't kill each other first."

"Ah, right. You're actually going to that." muses Rudi. "Do me a favor and try to pay attention when the Archbishop is speaking. I would like to assess him a little further."

Langa looks back at Rudi visibly confused. "Bien sûr, meneer, but why not come yourself? The Warhead's going too."

Rudi shakes his head. "Because I have other business to take care of in the meantime. I spoke to some of the 'home guard' in advance, and they've agreed to meet me elsewhere just for some secondary checks... and also to see if they're still true to their word." He then turns to Basri. "Basri, you will be coming with me, as are the rest of the Warders so that no one's left alone here." Basri nods in confirmation as he finishes the remainder of his drink. "You may go now, Langa. But remember this. Should you find yourself in custody or make a fool of yourself, we will not help you. We will be forced to leave, and you will be left behind. So behave yourself. This goes for the Warhead as well. Do you understand?"

Langa bows. "I do. We will bring honor to 'die nommer'." Now that he's been granted permission to leave by his superior, he gets dressed in his attire and heads downstairs. As he waits in the lobby, he can't help but notice that people living in the neighboring rooms are complaining about something at the front desk. They're complaining about being unable to sleep due to something in the air that kept them up all night. It's probably just the stress of having all these powerful leaders gathered in one place, he thinks. If anyone of these people were any bit of smart, maybe they'd try bumping them off all in one go now that they're all here. He smirks to himself a little as he imagines it. That'll be a sight worthy of sticking around for in this podunk town.

More time passes as Kregore's yet to come downstairs. So, he passes the time by trying to talk up some of the local girls, drinking more coffee, and reading the newspaper. Eventually, after an hour or so, he finally comes down and Langa beckons him. Together they hit the streets and begin walking towards the town hall. As they walk, Kregore silently keeps his head bowed and his eyes on the ground while Langa eagerly lets his eyes drift around the town; looking in stores for things he can steal and looking for people he can rob.

He nudges his boss walking beside him. "[Say, Warhead...]" he says in the Ridge's own prison language so nobody around them can understand him. "[...You think Wilhelm would've set fire to all this already? He probably would've burned, fucked, and killed everyone already-]"

Kregore doesn't bother lifting his head, but shifts his tone to make it clear he's not happy at hearing that name. "[WILHELM IS ON FIRE HIMSELF IN THE PITS OF HELL. THIS IS ALL I WILL SAY ABOUT HIM, AND NOTHING ELSE.]" He glares angrily at Langa.

"[... Sorry, boss.]" Langa meekly shrinks in his place, feeling guilty. Not a word comes from either of them as they slowly continue down the road to their destination.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

The Nocturne delegation was a sizable party, all dressed in their best - sober suits for the lawyers, top hats and ties for the bankers, dress uniforms in the hussar style for military representatives, and the religious habits and robes for the clergy. Aleister wore the silky, scarlet robes of his office, paired with a red beret that boasted a strawberry sized pompom on top, not unlike something one might find among the Atracan highlanders. The dark rings under his eyes remained, even with makeup. Alongside him were other prominent personalities: Deacon Carlio Silvatori representing the independent faction of the church separate from the governing body, Madam Elfriede, civilian head of the military forces, and Lady Saeti Ruko, representative of the returning Islander Elves that were native to Nocturne. She was a remarkably quiet woman, her movements soft and fluid, as if she moved outside of perceivable reality.

The train of dignitaries, officials, and clerks dissipated on arrival to their designated positions, gathering around fresh blank documents, tomes, typewriters, ledgers, and all manner of stationary meant to draft the necessary agreements that would forge the future of the world. Among them were guardians - soldiers in uniform taking part in the joint security of the gathering. Only a pair of the silver masked religious warriors were present, without weapons, in the company of Aleister and his high officials. There were also others who seemed even more out of place - a trio of painters, lugging in canvases with bags overladen with supplies to paint this historic first day of the Summit, photographers trying to find angles that satisfied their tastes and would not be disturbed by foot traffic affecting their tripods, even a few individuals who had no discernible purpose, clutching journals in their hands with pens at the ready. At least one woman in her bright red jacket and black plumed shako looked like some sort of circus performer.

"Not quite the grand theater at AmLeon Square, but the venue certainly is large enough," Aleister said among his inner group as they settled in at the massive table according to the placards left out for the seating arrangement. Around them, the others of their delegation squabbled to find the seats most accommodating to them. "I dare say today will be more important than the first showing of Devano's Crystal Chalice," Deacon Silvatori said. He exchanged a glance with Aleister and both men laughed. "No, probably not," Silvatori conceded a second later. "But today will be remarkable, nonetheless. And tomorrow, and the next, and however long this thing will take. Hopefully the return trip home will be met with champagne - symbolically - and not having to check the ledgers for how many bullets we have, eh, Elfriede?"

The woman glanced at the vampiric priest, her expression of demure severity at odds with the more colorfully dressed in attendance. "Depending on who stands with us, that could be a lot of bullets. Or very little." The talks with the Alchemist representative yesterday had been enlightening, though at the expense of some grace with the Escarian Queen. Then there was also the other associates that had arrived. Elfriede watched them enter the main chamber. "Those two chaps there have a lot," she said simply of the Caraborough duo. Silvatori couldn't help but frown. The idea of bringing in that convict island hadn't been any single person's idea or wish, but rather an emergence of necessity. "Well... I do hope they washed," he murmured, fidgeting with his gloves, as immaculate and white as his gold-trimmed habit.

"They'll be sitting near us, so do play nice. They may be a little... quaint in their life style, but they are, for now, partners in this strange dance we find ourselves in. Perhaps some of our good manners will rub off on them," Aleister said. Silvatori rolled his eyes. "So long as nothing rubs off on us first."

"Besides," Aleister continued, "I have a feeling they may be more well behaved than some of the so-called nobility that will be here today."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

The pat downs to get inside the building were a little embarrassing, but neither Kregore nor Langa desired to make a scene of it no matter how annoying all these security procedures were. Anyone who comes to the Ridge is put through these same motions as well, so they understand the need for all this. They aren't here for trouble to begin with, however. They're here to simply sit and observe Nocturne's leadership conduct themselves to see whether or not they're capable of doing business with the Ridge, or at least look competent enough to keep the Atracans off both their backs. Though Lord Rupbert's invitation also consisted of a chance to speak here at this summit. This is a bit of a problem as Rigo didn't want anyone to speak at this summit. He, and the rest of the Staafmans, believe all this to be a festival of old men showing off what little power they actually have. To join in on this display of feeble manhoods being waved about in the air would simply be embarrassing. 'The Ridge is above this,' he insisted, 'And we have higher places to be.' But, perhaps something good can come out of this? Perhaps if Nocturne knows that Caraborough is willing to follow through on its word of standing beside them, maybe then better opportunities will open up? Perhaps then Rupbert would be wrong, maybe then there would be an alliance after all! And how grand that would be if they could just use Nocturne as the first stepping stone on the path towards having real power in the world...

Langa isn't willing to risk being demoted yet again, but Kregore goes over ideas in his head; manifesting them in the form of scathing words he could say towards the Atracan king should he try to embarrass the Archbishop. And while both of them are eager to see this turn into a bloodbath, they know better than to instigate it. They'll have to play along with all the formalities for their own sakes.

"[-And what if we are called to speak?]" Langa panics.

Kregore shakes his head. "[THEN WE SPEAK. THEY HATE THE ATRACANS. WE DO TOO. WE SPEAK BESIDE THEM, AND IN A WAY THAT WILL MAKE THEM FAVOR US. YOU WILL SEE; THIS WILL BRING HONOR TO 'DIE NOMMER'.]" Eventually the two of them enter the main hall. Kregore gives a wave of his hand towards the Nocturne delegation as he walks over to the section they are seated at. He bides them a good morning as he takes a seat behind them. "GOEIEMÔRE." his deep metallic voice growls out to them.

Langa does the same, though he momentarily removes his hat and nods. "Bonjour!" He takes a quick look around the room, noticing that Nocturne's own guards don't have weapons either. "I see they took your men's weapons too, yes?"

 

[Dmaster]

Some time after that encounter with the alchemists, Camille had accompanied Theodore to Jakob's office where they discussed what had transpired over the last few years. In greater detail the huntress was able to describe the nature of Hudson's mission and why her opinion of Velin had only worsened with time. Beyond that she wasn't particularly forthcoming with any other events, simply saying much of her time was now dedicated to her children. Fortunately she did manage to get her glass of wine from the discussion, meaning she was able to get back to her lodging in a far better state than being ridiculously high-strung as she was the day before.

When morning arrived, she saw to it that she had a good bath and back into her cleaned outfit. From there she started to stroll toward the courthouse where the summit was being held. As she did so she quietly thought to herself on what she planned to say, knowing that she was notably a small player in the event yet she still hoped to sway the minds of those that mattered more. The huntress knew she wasn't alone in her way of thinking, so it was merely a matter of being focused on the task at hand.

The first roadblock she encountered once she actually got to the courthouse was the security detail checking the delegations for weaponry. That made her twitch slightly, her walking pace increasing as she stepped up and over to the Escarian soldiers stationed at the door. Despite her best attempts to convince them that she should be allowed to go in with her blades, they would not have it. To Camille it was utterly asinine to have her give up her weapons when the vampiric terrorists in the delegation were not de-fanged and de-clawed before crossing the threshold. If these were the compromises the summit had in mind for criminals, the little optimism she had was quickly fading.

After the arguing she removed her belt of bladed weaponry and practically shoved it at one of the soldiers, storming inside of the entrance before she calmed herself and entered the room where proceedings would take place. She was accompanied by no guards or officials, merely all by herself as she slowly walked to her assigned seating. Being an Escarian representative she was relatively near the queen herself, sitting down with little fanfare as she rested an arm on the table.

The Nocturne delegation was in sight from across the table, but she only spared them and the ruffians they had recruited a glance of reserved fury before she faced front. While she was doing her best to keep quiet, she could not help but wonder who they had gotten to come to the summit with them. They certainly were not anyone she recognized, but from the tattered clothes they wore and the scrap metal that clung to some of their body she had a feeling they weren't the most ethical group either.

 

[Infab]

As delegates and their entourages trickled into the building, others that had not arrived were brought to the site by Velin as the morning progressed. Occasionally, a portal would open at the back of the room, and out stepped advisors, guards, and delegates themselves. Queen Jannika Wästflod arrived, looking about the room with little interest. Her position at the large table was near that of her Tsavanian neighbor Tsar Yuri Rastarski, whom was situated several seats away from the Atracan king. There were still bad blood between the two nations, but the wounds were healing with time. Still, it probably wasn't best to sit them next to one another. Between them sat the delegations of Daristein, Trechtstaat, and Schwyz. Between the Atracan King and Escarian Queen would sit the delegations of Eshax and Stuisil. Volucia and Florencia would sit between Escaria and Tsavania, on either side of the miscellaneous groups like the Alchemist's Union and the hunting guilds. When they all arrived, that is.

Alchemist's Union President Catarina Klostermann soon entered and sat at her seat, lighting a cigarette and getting comfortable in her seat. Clad in a clean black suit, with her trademark top hat atop her head and a thin silky mesh over her face. She glanced between those that had already arrived, smiling and nodding at each. Between her and Camille, another seat was soon filled. Luther McCarthy soon drew the chair out, sitting down and relaxing a bit. He glanced over to Catarina, giving her a simple "Mornin'." before looking to Camille. "Nice to finally meet ya in person, Camille Guiguere. Call me Luther. I'm the Atracan Hunter's Guild boss man." he said, offering his hand to shake. Surprisingly, he looked rather well kept and finely dressed for a Hunter's Guild representative.

On the other side of Camille, Jessica would sit down. Representing the Phillomon Detective Agency, she was here in the place of her brother. She and Luther shared a grin. Obviously rather well acquainted with one another already. Other spots on the other side of Catarina were reserved for the Red Wardens, as well as representatives from the various races that had suddenly reappeared over the past few years. Unfortunately, no one was able to acquire a representative for the Orcs. Instead, there were now two Elven delegates. One for the eastern group, and one for the western group.

That left three other seats that weren't occupied. Velin, Undite...and Adona?! That was certainly a shocking sight. A few other seats were positioned near those particular three, just behind them at an angle. These had different names on them. Ohemmaa Okomba Nyamme of Mwassi, Iwasaki Takamichi of Shioya, High Inquisitor Tristan L. Winchester, Theodore Boivin, and a handful of others. Important guests as designated by Velin herself.

Alexander Newmont sat in his seat, his hands forming a triangle as he let his elbows rest on the table before him. He glared intensely at the Nocturne delegation and their new friends. Behind him stood General Pendergast, sharing a similar gaze. There were a handful of Royal Mages scattered around the room, mixed in with the Atracan soldiers stationed as guards.