Adam looked around the table as those gathered either conversed or simply finished up their food in a thoughtful silence. He had chosen these members both because he thought their mundane knowledge would be as valuable as their Talents.

He preferred to do things in a neat and ordered manner. Up until recently any such issues had been handled by his father, and in a lackadaisical manner. His father was a skilled engineer; but as to organizing the society not so much. Adam had set about to handle things in a more organized manner. He compiled reports, tracked successes, tracked overall issues, tested which members had an aptitude for detective work, which ones actually liked doing this, average money spent, gear needed, and every other possible thing. Satisfied that things would get underway soon he nodded to those assembled.

“Please stay and refresh yourselves as desired” he said politely with a slight bow. “I have a few minor things I need to attend to before heading out. Last one to leave will please inform the servants the room can be tended now.”

****

While Adam was busy making preparations for every eventuality he could think of Ren was busy making sure the members had everything they could possibly need for their forays. He didn't know what Adam had asked them to do; but he would make sure they had the tools needed to do it.

By the time Adam descended to the entry hall, properly dressed to pay a house call to a rich widow all of the other things had all been taken care of. Adam's personal carriage had been arranged for his use and was waiting in the drive. A local woodcutter and his small cart had been arranged for Johanna who would take her as far as the edge of town, one of the hunters who had found the strange kills awaited her there to guide her. And for Lucie & Aleksandra a nondescript hansom cab had been summoned. No self respecting woman would be seen in one, but Adam had a feeling neither of them would care and they were the most anonymous modes of transportation available and would take them wherever they wished, no questions asked and never look out of place.

Adam touched his hand to the hilt of his sword, the only outward sign that he suspected an issue, he rarely wore it but it was still considered gentlemanly attire even in this age and he could get away with it. None of the others were around yet, probably still making preparations and he figured they could take their own time, but what worried him is that neither of the two he had hoped would accompany him were around either. They had clearly come to a decision that this was perhaps not a task they wanted to undertake; and Adam wouldn't force it. It did mean he would have to go alone however. He quickly revised his plans and sent a note to Ren to switch places with the driver. Ren was always dependable.

That done Adam quickly hopped in the carriage, rapped on the roof, and they were gone. He trusted the others would handle their own tasks with equal efficiency and he opened his Talent as he traveled, thinking through the steps of the pattern and wondering what the other's would find. The ride was smooth and gave him plenty of time to mull over the puzzles but the feeling that he was walking into a trap only increased as he passed through the gates of the D'allende manor.

NOTES FOR REFERENCE:
Group A--Adam,
Group B--Rabid Bear in the Woods. Johanna
Group C--Missing Men. Aleksandra, Lucie

The herbalist simply couldn't wait any longer, as her curiosity wouldn't allow her to remain seated at the dining table any longer. With a swish of her skirts, Johanna rose from her chair, and picked up one of the sewing needles Adam had offered up, as a way to signify their association, and as a way to trace them if they became lost. After that, she departed from the dining hall.

On the walk back to her room, Johanna wandered in her thoughts, trying to preconceive any idea as to who, or what, was killing the animals of the forest. She couldn't help but to wonder, if the possibility of the culprit could be a medical student? It would certainly explain the need for the precise removal of the heart. It was hard to say exactly the cause. Sighing irritability, Johanna silently scolded herself for trying to solve the problem, before understanding it.

As she came to stand before the oak door to her bedroom, Johanna lifted the key off her chaletaine, and unlocked the door. She pushed the door open, and stepped inside, and shut the door behind her all in one move. Standing in the midst of her room, Johanna surveyed her belongings, trying to determine what would be helpful to take on her trip to the forest.

With much of an absent mind, Johanna tugged on a string that ran to the servants quarter, to her knowledge, every member had a string that would summon a servant if pulled. The string was situated by her door, and disappeared into the floor below. Then, Johanna proceeded to change her dress into a plainer style. She donned a simple, navy blue gown with a high-buttoned collar, with a black hooded cape in case the weather turned chilly.

A knock upon her door revealed to be the servant who had her call as Johanna opened the door to allow the matronly woman in.

"Hello Miss Valerivicus, you rang for some help?" The woman appeared to be in her mid-forties, for her hair greyed around the temples on her head, and she had fine wrinkles around her mouth, and crow's feet at the corners of her eyes.

"Aye, would you have a horse and carriage prepared for me? I'm planning a journey to the outskirts of the forest, I'm going on account of Mr. Ware. Also, send word to the hunters that discovered the carcasses, as I wish to meet with any of them that are available." Johanna pointed out the names of two hunters named in the case file Adam had procured, the maid raised a curious brow at the names, but said nothing of it.

"Very well Miss Valerivicus, I will go and ready a carriage for you, I shall return for you when the horses are brought 'round. Is there anything else ma'am?" The woman had a wisened disposition, one Johanna noted.

"Yes there is one more thing..."

"Ma'am?"

"Please call me Jo, or Johanna, if you prefer. My surname is much too long."

"Yes ma'am. Anything else?"

"Ah yes, one more thing. What is your name?"

"My name is Cecilia, ma'am."

"Thank you Cecilia, that will be all." With that, Johanna watched as the woman departed from her room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

In the meantime, Johanna continued in silence as she packed a small luggage case, one filled with various tools, such as tweezers, pliers, shears, several small vials to hold evidence, even a dagger that she stowed away in a hidden pocket in her dress.

Moments later, the maid Cecilia returned with a rapt knock upon her door.

"Miss Johanna, the carriage is ready for your departure whenever you are ready." Called Cecilia, and was greeted by a swing of the door as Johanna appeared in the doorway.

"Splendid. Please have someone send for me if I do not return by midnight, for then surely something terrible has happened to me."

"Yes of course, Miss Johanna."

And with that, Johanna left the company of the maid, and departed for the stairs, her cane-sword in hand for an added measure of protection. The day was still young, and she would have several hours to investigate the case.

Lucie had finished her breakfast only a short few minutes after Aleksandra herself had gone to get some sleep. Sometimes she still surprised herself with how voracious her appetite could be, but then again, keeping her body in the shape that it was required large amounts of nutrients.

After that she had gone about her preparations. They mostly consisted of planning for the evening ahead, but also making sure that all of the items she needed to bring with her, were accounted for. She had sharpened her knives, polished her saber and made sure it and the scabbard was well oiled, as well as checking her small gun for any left-over slug. It had been a long time since she’d fired this particular revolver, and she knew that it had been cleaned thoroughly more than once. However, she had been taught never to take any chances.

Following this she had sent out messages via street boys—paying them well to ensure they did exactly as asked—and snooped around a little herself. She didn’t hear much, only that it wasn’t anyone she knew that was responsible. At the very least, it didn’t make sense to kidnap one’s own men. And though she had no count on how many, there were a few tales of men disappearing from among her previous “family”.

The majority of the afternoon had passed with those activities, and she found herself with only one last objective to complete before she and Aleksandra could venture out on their little mystery.

And that was waking up the sleeping beauty.

A dubious claim, Lucie thought, stepping up to the door. She was clad in what one could only call combat attire: Leather jerkin and trousers, high leather boots and gloves. Shin and arm guards protected her limbs, while providing hiding spots for two knives in each armguard. She wore two belts, one sitting slightly higher than the other. In the lowest belt she held a total of four, small throwing knives, with two long daggers sitting in a pair of small scabbards near the backside of her hips, forcing her to reach backwards were she to grab them. A six-shot revolver attached to the belt on her right. The belt sitting higher had a scabbard with a sabre attached to it, both well oiled and sharpened. Finally, her hair was done in a braid, hanging over the front of her shoulder.

She knocked on Aleksandra’s door, a sly smile on her lips. She had gotten the location of the russian’s room from one of the staff, having asked nicely for once rather than playing with him like some succubus.

Aleksandra rolled over in the small bed, burying her face in a pillow as a knock came from the door. She’d woken up over half an hour ago, but the bed was soft, and boots were not soft. She preferred soft things to not soft things.

Grumbling, she eventually roused herself only to fall over the side, “Вали отсюда, богемский сука!” (Fuck off, Bohemian bitch!) She growled at the door, then muttering in English, “Some of us are trying to sleep.” She pushed herself to her feet, stumbling to the door and pulling it open as she blinked through sleep addled eyes, brushing some hair out of her face. “It’s time already, isn’t it?” She asked with a tone that suggested she was about to be lead to her execution.

Aleksandra was met with the smiling face of Lucie as she opened the door, the—in her own words—Bohemian bitch stood her ground, her amber eyes twinkling in barely contained glee. Lucie’s smile was positively impish as she nodded, letting the Russian know that it was time for them to head out.

“It is,” she said, speaking English slowly, and making sure to articulate every word as best she could. “But first,” she held up a large leather bag, “we have some things we need to take care of. The first of which,” she looked up, “is your hair.” Refocusing on Aleksandra, she motioned with a hand, silently asking for entrance into the room. She stepped inside shortly after, Aleksandra having stepped aside, though not without what sounded like half a dozen displeased grunts. Evidently the woman in question very much preferred sleep over any kind of work.

“Let me give you the run-down of what I have in mind… I’m going to have you kidnapped.”

Aleksandra blinked once, then twice. “You’re going to what.” She stated flatly, fixing Lucie with an incredulous look. “You’ll have to forgive me for not being wildly enthusiastic about such a proposition.”

Closing the door, she sat down on her chair, wishing she’d at least had some time to change out of her nightgown and into something a bit less revealing, but there wasn’t much she could do now. “So before you go and explain why I’m going to be kidnapped, tell me what it is you plan to do with my hair.” She raised an eyebrow at Lucie, “Something tells me I’m not going to like any of this one bit.”

Lucie sat down on the bed, placing her bag beside her. She seemed to consider opening it for a while, but evidently thought better of it. She turned to Aleksandra, looking her over, finding herself surprised by the gown she wore, not to mention the figure barely hidden underneath. She let as much show, eyebrows raising in a show of surprise. “I must admit, I am impressed. I had thought myself the only one who bothered to truly train themselves.” She let a small, somewhat genuine, smile tug at her lips. “But let’s leave that for another time. I was referring to your hair before because, let’s be frank, it looks like a bird’s nest. I’ll need to sort it out. But that can also be saved for a later time. I have a plan for what we’re going to do.”

She opened her bag and started pulling out the contents, lining them up on the bed in neat order, speaking as she did so. “As I said, I plan to have you kidnapped. The information Mr. Adam gave was indicates that it is only attractive men who are abducted. Not only that, but they are usually young and must be alone. I have considerable skill in the arts of applying make-up, and have taken on the role as a man before.”

“So have I,” Aleksandra interjected, before letting Lucie continue.

Lucie looked up, pausing in her sorting of her items. They ranged from clothing to blush to bright sticks of lip paint. She did not look pleased by the interrupted, though neither did she look angry or annoyed. She turned her attention back to displaying the bag’s contents. “Be that as it may,” she continued, “but fact of the matter is that your appearance is more masculine than mine, and even if we are both at the heights of men, you are moreso than I. My plan is simple: We’ll lay a trap at first, see if we can lure them out. To this end, I’ll make you look like a man. You’ll have to dress as one, act like one, and sound like one. I can help you with all of those, though the latter is particularly tricky.” She stood up then, grabbing a large brush from the pile of items she had procured from her bag. “Now let’s get that hair of yours fixed.”

Before doing anything else, Aleksandra smirked at Lucie and, playing up her accent, coughed in an unmistakeably male -albeit on the softer side of things- voice, “I doubt the latter will be as big a difficulty as you imagine.” In her normal voice she continued, “I have done much of this before, you realize.”

Regardless, she shrugged, “I can take care of my own hair, but if you insist, do what you wish.” Discontinuing conversation about hair she asked, “What about this trap you intend to lay? I have my suspicions that simply waiting around will do little to lead us to the target we seek.” She paused, “Might I request that you hold on to my own sword for me nonetheless? I suspect carrying it around might deter our quarry from making a move, if indeed your trap would otherwise succeed. If there comes a point where we must fight someone, you’ll find I’m not all that incapable with one.”

“It most likely won’t bring us the culprit, but being able to be about in the night unnoticed might give us some insight.” Lucie made the first stroke with the brush. She wasn’t kind, but neither unnecessarily mean. She figured that the larger woman could endure whatever tugs may come. She had to admit, however, that the colour of the hair was extraordinarily pretty. While as white as snow, it didn’t make her look old. Only exotic. “And you can work on that male voice of yours. I can give you a few pointers. As for your sword—” she tugged hard at a stubborn tangle, pulling a few hairs free in the process “—I can take care of it for you. Should not be a problem.” She finished with those white locks, moving to put the brush down on the bed. Instead she picked up a medium sized box, opening it to reveal a whole host of different shades of blush and other such things.

“I’ll make a man out of you,” she said, a small glint in her eyes. “But bear with me.”

Lucie stood behind Aleksandra, struggling with the latch of a binder. It just wouldn’t close, the two sides of the binder refusing to meet no matter how much she seemed to struggle. With the size of Aleksandra’s breasts, she had to use a binder to be able to pass for a man, but as it was that proved to be a challenge. She ground her teeth, muttering out a curse. “Why do they have to be so big?” She complained.

Aleksandra snickered, letting Lucie struggle with the garment for a little while. “Everything’s bigger in Russia.” She singsonged by way of response. “Surely you have a bigger one somewhere?” She then asked, not turning around but hiding her smirk all the same.

Lucie, much in the way a small girl would, harrumphed in as immature a manner as one could expect from a child. Rather than reply verbally, she pulled tighter, relentlessly crushing Aleksandra’s ribs and chest, finally getting the clasps to lock together. “I hope you like not breathing,” she muttered in Czech. An exaggeration, perhaps, but sometimes vindictiveness was justified.

Aleksandra sighed internally - some people would be childish it seemed. “I do have one of my own, you realize?” Shrugging, she turned around, folding her arms over her chest as she snickered, “Jealous, much?”

“Jealous?” Lucie asked, speaking English once more, and adopting a shocked expression. “I was simply tightening the binder so that it actually worked. Now, sit down. I still have to touch up on a few things.”

Aleksandra inspected herself in a small handheld mirror. Lucie had managed to give her face the appearance of recently shaven stubble, and she herself had a pair of men’s boots, excessively shiny ones at that. Hidden from sight were her two custom pistols, as well as a knife in her right boot and a smaller neck knife well hidden by the coat.

“I look for all the world the spitting image of a naive American man come to sightsee in Prague, and to my great horror, oh so woefully lost within the urban jungle.” She commented idly, in almost perfect American English with just the barest hint of Southern inflection. “Mr. William Christopher Wood, from Virginia, at your service, ma’am.” She offered an exaggerated bow towards Lucie.

“Should I flex my arms or something too? That’s what men do, right?” She examined her attire once more, having exchanged her usual light coat in the style of a Russian military overcoat for one that was seemingly identical, but in fact was lined on the interior with silk - an addition that had cost her no small fortune to be added, but would in fact reliably stop a handgun were such a misfortune to occur.

Lucie glanced up at Aleksandra as she studied herself in the mirror. While not one to usually brag—That’s quite the lie, Miss Ruzicka, and you know it, she thought to herself—she would admit to have done a very good job at transforming Aleksandra from a decently attractive young woman, to the very picture of a stupid foreigner. Or at least that was her original intentions, but duty had come before and she’d settled for simply making her look like a man, with a touch of foreign blood at her companion’s request. She had taken for granted the fact that everybody was capable of speaking the local language, and had planned the night ahead around that fact. Much to her chagrin, however, Aleksandra had pointed that fact out, and suggested instead that she play the part of a foreigner who did not speak the language.

Having her plans revised by others was not a pleasant experience, but for the sake of the task ahead she had allowed it. Not that I had much choice. It was either that, or leave a gaping hole in my plans.

They stood outside the gates of the mansion, a small hansom cab was parked outside, a man sitting on the raised seat in the back holding the reins of the horses. He seemed the patient sort, having neither asked them when they were to depart, nor indicated any restlessness. He was the good kind of servant to have. Lucie nodded in satisfaction, and stepped forward, only to stop before she even reached the step to it. She turned to Aleksandra, now calling herself William, and glanced pointedly between her and the cab, hands on her hips.

Aleksandra sighed, raising an eyebrow at Lucie as she herself neared the carriage. “You do realize that I consider this nonsense about men aiding women into a carriage to be just that - nonsense, yes?”

“When in Prague, do as the Praguer’s,” Lucie said quietly, loud enough for only Aleksandra to hear, presenting her hand in such a way that it could not be mistaken for anything, but an invitation to help her up and into the vehicle. She smiled sweetly, tilting her head as she looked up at the other woman. “Let me indulge, if only for a moment.”

“If you’re looking to indulge, perhaps don’t dress as if you’re intending to fit into some terrible American dime novel about a cliché assassin performing whatever cliché acts cliché assassins do in terrible dime novels.” Aleksandra raised a quizzical eyebrow, nonetheless sighing as she resumed the soft spoken Southern tone and masculine voice, “Methinks that the lady is somewhat ailed by this night air, and it has addled her thoughts. Please, allow me to assist thee lest your state worsen further, mi’lady.” She snipped, her voice almost dripping with snarkasm by the end, but still managing to seem polite and proper as ever.

Lucie, having either not heard the venom dripping from the words or didn’t care, bowed her head in a silent thanks as she was helped onto the cab, settling in the well-worn seats. She kept the mask of the delicate lady for another short while, waiting for Aleksandra, and then let it slip. She could have sworn their chauffeur shook his head at their theatrics, but ignored it in favour of going over with Aleksandra exactly what they were going to do, albeit in a whispered tone so that no one—not even the driver—could hear the two of them.

She leaned forward, speaking softly. “Once we arrive, I will wander off and disappear. You’ll find some place that’s relatively solitary, and I will shadow you. Then…”

She continued going over the details with Aleksandra as the hansom cab rattled down the streets. Tonight they were going to catch someone.

~~Group A~~


Isabeau worked feverishly in her lab, one of many labs, studying the specimens she currently had splayed on the table. They were fresh now and would not be for long, so this was the ideal time to record and study. Her Talent was heightened to its fullest capability as she gazed through the lenses of her microscopes and scribbled rapidly in her notebook.

Life was understandably fascinating for her, and since her husband's demise death had become equally as fascinating. They were tied to one another in such a way that one could not truly understand one without understanding the other. That is what had been missing from all her prior research, from everything she and her husband had worked so hard on. The secret to the Panacea was held not just in Life but in Death too. She had to combine them both to find the solution.

So today, like most other days, she was madly at work, her concentration sunk deeply into everything she was working on. She had little sleep last night, or in recent nights at all. She was always deep in her studies during the day and she had other things to attend to after dark. It left little time to sleep and the lack thereof was starting to affect her Talent in strange ways. She compensated by throwing herself even further into her work. Focusing so deeply she lost track of everything outside her lab space. She had forgotten she had ever sent a letter to the Master of the Society. That problem had been long resolved anyway.

~~Forest/Group B~~


Havel waited uneasily at the edge of the forest. The man, Adam, had paid him well to act as a guide but lately he found the woods discomforting. Still it was a weeks worth of wages, which meant once this was over he could stay home for several days.

In his youth he had roamed from dawn till dusk, learning the land better than he knew his own home, but recently the oppressive silence had settled deeper and deeper. He was 20 now, and still relied on the forest for his livelihood, but things had changed.

Some game had moved out. The rest had become so skittish hunting was no longer reliable. A keen eye could tell Havel felt that shift in a personal way; he had lost weight, his clothing was weathered and dirty for he had no coin to purchase honey or milk or to pay the washerwomen to give his clothing a good cleaning. He was surviving well enough, but he rarely had extra to sell anymore and all luxuries had to be abandoned. The game just wasn't there, and his livelihood wasn't paying. Then of course there was the silence. That was the worst. Anyone who spent long periods of time outdoors knew that rarely were things silent. There was always a cacophony of noise...birds, animals, winds, rustling, and everything in between. Now the animals “spoke” in hushed tones, particularly as the day wound down. The silence made it so uncomfortable he w

He stood still, the fog that soaked the forest from the morning was still thick about, and he peered through it seeking the landmarks that would lead him to the strange kill sites. He hoped the woman he was supposed to meet would hurry up. He couldn't actually believe he was supposed to be guiding a woman to the strange kill sites, hunting wasn't woman's work, but Adam had been very persuasive. Or at least his coin had been very persuasive. He wanted to be out of the forest by sunset. When IT roamed.

When the sound of wheels could be heard in the distance he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He moved swiftly down the path and jumped onto a rock outcropping so his client could see him easily in the shadowy forest. He hoped this woman would be able to keep up with him, he wanted to get this over with.

~~ City/Group C~~~


The poor districts of the city were just exactly what one might expect. Dirt abounded as did rather offensive odors. So too did street urchins, hawkers of dubious wares, beggars, thieves, and innocents just struggling to survive. They were all jumbled together in small cramped spaces and poor sanitary conditions. It was simply a fact of life. What Prague offered that other cities didn't was the great river.

The river provided water, it washed away filth, gave food, as well as provided a way to hide the evidence of less than savory activities. Filip was one who used the river for such. Usually. Today he was using it to hide.

There were strange goings on in his world; well there were always strange goings on; but this time was different. He was a thief, just an ordinary garden variety thug, but of late he had given up the business. People were disappearing, true it had been only men but all were afraid, and of course the money bags didn't know, want to know, or care if they did know.

People who made their living by their wits or scrabbled to survive in the harsh river districts of the city shared a sort of bond, despite often not liking one another they still looked out for their own because no one else would. And now there was something harming one of their own. And everyone claimed they knew what it was but almost no one had the same two stories.

Filip knew, he had seen IT. The monster who walked on two legs. It had stumbled in through the dark alley he worked. Filip was street wise, he had known something was wrong, and faster than a spider on fire had climbed a wall and hidden in the shadows of a building's corner, perched halfway up a wall, not daring to breathe. The monster had passed below, eating the rats that ran before it. Some said the missing were kidnapped but Filip knew that had to be wrong. Who would kidnap them? They had no money, no ransom to be paid, nothing. It had to be the monster.

Kidnapping brought his thoughts back to the woman who tried to hire him. He was one of those folk you could hire to do that sort of thing, he had done it in the past, he would do it in the future. He had shown up, she had told him he was too ugly for this sort of work, and she left. That had been quite a bit ago, and he had not been thrilled. Good paying work was hard to find and he was not ugly. But the bitch had vanished before he could make her pay for her words.

And since then nightmares had walked the district, keeping all legitimate businessmen like himself inside during the dark hours. He had been barely scraping by for some time now. Tonight he had to go out and find a good mark and get some work done. It was either that or go back to scraping through the garbage again.

He tucked his blackjack into his belt, checked that all his knives were secure, pulled his hood up, and headed from the stinking shelter of the bridge into the streets. He would be in before midnight, he promised himself. Bad things mostly happened after midnight. Mostly.

Lilian walked, tiredly, through the market. The various instruments in her pouches gently knocking into each other with each step she took. The feint dinging of metal could be heard as she weaved her way through the busy afternoon crowds. She was beginning to become rather frustrated with how difficult she was finding it to get through this part of the city. She rather desperately wanted to get home, or rather, her home away from home at the society. From her current position it was considerably closer than her own home and she was much too exhausted to walk farther than she needed to.

She had spent much of the previous day and all of last night on her feet. Her mother had, once again, gotten herself into a spot of trouble. A rumor had started to spread among the upper class that the recently dead Major Dvorak did not die of old age but at the hand of Mrs. McClellen. It was far from unusual for rumors to pop up now and again concerning her family, more specifically her mother. After all, its hard not to raise suspicions when you end up in the wills of so many individuals. But such rumors rarely caused issue of any notable sort and disappeared as quickly as they surfaced. This time however, it seemed as though the rumors were not going away and it was having a – as her mother put it- damaging effect on the McClellen reputation.

At her parent's behest she was to find a way bring these rumors to their immediate end. She despised being taken away from her work but there was little she would not do for her family. And while she did not understand the importance of a persons reputation she would not stand for her mother being accused of murder. And so she spent a long time scouring the city to find out why the rumor was having such a drastic effect on her families reputation. Her search led her to several lords and ladies, all of whom where related to the late Major Dvorak and who were rather displeased a substantial amount of their inheritance had to be shared with Mrs.McClellen. From what she could gather, their aim was to discredit her enough that no one would ever trust her near their dying loved ones.

After a considerable amount of effort to simply uncover the truth of the matter she decided to take care of this issue in the simplistic manner possible. In the end she reasoned out the simplest solution was to blackmail the lot of them. A rather trivial action to take as during her investigation into each of them she managed to uncover quite the myriad of nasty secrets. The majority of the past five hours consisted of informing each of them anonymously of what would happen should they continue to spread nasty lies. She even used the information to get one of them -one with the least influence- arrested for some of his dirty secrets, just to really drive home that she was not sending empty threats.

Confident the matter was well taken care of she decided she had earned a proper rest before resuming her studies. As she did not like using a carriage if she could avoid it she had spent the entire time on her feet. And while her heeled boots were rather comfortable, at this point it was like walking barefoot over stones.

Quickly turning down an alley Lilian made her way to much larger street that, while still held many people, was large enough that everyone was spread out and she could move with more ease. Tired as she was she still made a point to observe everyone and everything going on. There was far too much to take in and she had already wasted enough time on her families affairs as it was. As she walked she made mental notes about things she saw, categorizing them as either interesting, relevant, or society matters. As she spent the most time in the city out of everyone it was usually her who was responsible for debunking or reporting the many frauds that continued to crop up in the city. On this day however, one thing she noted as being rather interesting, was a familiar gentleman driving a carriage. While she cared little for the goings on of the upper class she had made it a point to memorize the faces of the members of the society and she was very much sure that it was Adam Ware's personal attendant, Ren. Closer inspection revealed that he was driving Adam's personal carriage, which meant Adam was out and about.

Lilian smiled wide. If Adam was out then there was a good chance something interesting was happening. He rarely disappointed her when it came to delegating tasks as it always led to her learning something new or truly putting her skills to the test. Of course if Adam was merely taking care of some trivial matter she could at the very least get off her aching feet and catch a ride to the societies manor. She would miss out on what the day had to offer her brain but she would willing accept that loss if it meant a rest. Of course, she first had to catch up with the carriage.

Based on it's direction and how much congestion was in the streets at the moment she new Ren would take the most open path, which would lead him under a walking bridge not far away. Moving fast, and ignoring the pain in her feet, she cut through the crowds and several ally ways to emerge but a few steps from the bridge. She briskly walked over to a bench on top of the bridge and sat down, doing her best to position herself in a way that would suggest she was entranced by the view the bridge offered. She then willed her mind to leave her body and in an instant she was standing, unseen, in front of her not lifeless body.

Grabbing a hold of the bridges railing Lilian heaved herself over to landed soundlessly on the path below. As she suspected Ren had taken the path she deduced he would and was now headed straight for her. Taking off at top speed, her projected feet feeling no pain, she headed straight toward the carriage. As they passed each other she grabbed hold of one of the railings meant to assist in getting out of the vehicle and used it to pull herself on to the roof. She then claimed across and sat next to Ren and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. As per usual the man did no react to her touch and continued focusing on the task at hand. Moving closer she whispered into his ear “Stop under the bridge ahead.” which was met with a curt nod. Lilian then willed herself back to her body and in a blink she found herself back on the bench just in time to see Adam's carriage disappear beneath the bridge.

Using a nearby set of stone steps Lilian made her way to the lower level to meet with the carriage. Ren had in fact stopped the carriage and was patiently waiting for her. She gave him a large smile and a wave “Thanks!” which was met with very elegant bow of the head that she assumed was meant to show respect.

Not bothering to knock she entered the carriage and sat down on a seat across from Adam who, as per usual, did not seem at all surprised to see her. She had grown used to him knowing when she was about to turn up and so rarely announced her presence to him anymore.

“Good afternoon Mr.Ware.” The carriage jumped to life as Ren continued on his way. “Fancy meeting you in the city like this.” She smiled. Over the past few years she and Adam had developed somewhat of a friendship. At least that is what she considered it to be, whether or not the feeling was mutual was a thought that never occurred to her. She liked Adam, he fascinated her to no end, and was always willing to listen to her ramble on about any subject she wished. As far as she was concerned that was all she needed to consider someone a friend.

“So...” she said taking on a more serious tone “Is there a matter that could use my assistance with? Or have I interrupted you on a personal errand?”

"Doc, I'm thirsty. Is that normal? Agh, the sting came back."

The evening sun hung low over the sky. A man was lying upon a table. His leg was exposed, showing off the nasty gash in it, as well as a chunk of shrapnel jutting out of said gash. blood dripped everywhere, soaking into the man's pants, the table, as well as staining the woman standing over him, who was examining all the tools on a nearby stand. She seemed to take some particular interest in the sharper, more painfully looking ones. They gleamed with an almost malevolent shine, seemingly reveling in the pain that they were to soon cause.

Martha's brow furrowed. This wasn't too odd of an occurrence. Soldiers, especially stupid ones who thought it was a good idea to play with the howitzers, showed up in here almost every other day.

"Quiet," she hissed at the poor man, while shooting a piercing glare at him. He got the message and shut up immediately. At least he was compliant. Then, she turned to the stand full of tools and selected a large scalpel. It was almost as long as a dagger, and obviously isn't going to be a pleasant experience for the man on the table. "You should relax. This will hurt. . ."

A bit of time and a lot of screaming later, the previously introduced man stood shakily to his feet, supported by an improvised cane that was in reality just a straight stick.

"Thanks, Doc. I don't know what I would do without you," he said shakily, with a thin smile.

"Leave," Martha said, pointing to the door. "Don't do it again," she added with a glare. The man nodded, then hobbled to the door. The bells sounded a merry jingle as the door opened, letting the soldier out, and sounded again as the door closed behind him. Well, it sounded merry to Martha. She looked at the clock on her door, then walked over to a coatrack and grabbed her coat. It was time to run a little errand.

By the time Martha had gotten herself over to the local church, the sun had ducked under the horizon and the last streaks of light shone out, as if desperately grabbing for the sleeping city below it.

"Oh, thank the baby Jesus you're here," said a nervous boy, standing outside on the church steps. "Brother Faeyoon's condition worsens with each passing day. Our prayers to the Lord continue to go unheard."

"Remember, two drops a day," Martha muttered, as she handed him a jar of thick opaque fluid. Then, she walked off into the night. Fools, if only they knew. She had been feeding Brother Faeyoon this for awhile now. A poison, coming from paleleaf, that slowly weakened a body until the heart stops one fateful day. This week's dose is more potent than usual. The killing blow shall be struck tonight. Martha allowed herself a grim smile at this.

Back at the hospital, she searched around for a key. It was tucked away in a cupboard at the far end of the room, hidden from any curious eyes. She grabbed it, and walked into a room in the back that served in her living quarters. The room was intolerably small, with the bed filling up almost all of it. The space that is left is taken up by a small chest. Martha fit the key into the lock, and opened it up. Inside, there was a nearly featureless white cloak, only decorated by a peculiar symbol on it's hood. She lifted it out of the chest, and took it to a bucket in the operating room, where she scrubbed it thoroughly, reciting to herself quietly the old sayings that governed her life.

The carriage ride proved lengthy, but not by Johanna’s account, as she had dealt with carriage rides over greater distances, this, this was nothing. Once the carriage began to draw to a stop, Johanna leaned over in her seat, as she sat in the middle of the carriage bench, and pressed her cheek against the window to achieve a better view of her surroundings. Strange, she thought to herself. The fog had yet to lift from the area, even though the sun was well past sunrise. The hour hand on her pocket watch showed time a little past 11:10a.m. Her driver hopped from his seat in front of the buggy, and came around to open the door for Johanna, as gracious as any gentleman. Johanna gathered her belongings she had brought with her, and stepped out of the carriage, and onto the miniature steps leading to ground level. As she looked around the clearing they had come to a stop at, Johanna pondered as to where her guide was that Adam had promised her. There were no chirping birds, no rustling leaves from squirrels, and almost the absent noise of the wind through the branches. It felt as if the whole world stopped before her, and was waiting to hear her speak. A twig snapped in front of her, and her eyes snapped ahead to see a thin, and rather dirty, lad before her. He was past his teens, she could tell that much, but Johanna deciphered that he was still rather young.

“A-Are you Miss Johanna Valerivicus?” The lad appeared to be uneasy, as if he was nervous about being here, amongst the fog, or in the woods; she could not tell which.

“Yes lad, I am. Who might you be? The guide promised to me by a Mr. Ware, I would hope?” Johanna returned as she raised one eye brow in concern. She wondered if the man thought of robbing her, or some other darker deeds. Johanna withheld a visible shudder of the body, and instead, approached the young lad at a cautious pace, with her sword cane in tow.

“The name’s Havel, miss. Mr. Ware told me to look out for a woman such as yourself, in a carriage. ‘Said you would stop right here he did.” Havel’s head trembled in a shaky nod.

“Yes… That’s right. On Mr. Ware’s behalf, I am here to investigate accounts of suspicious activity that have been reported. I hope you can enlighten me as to the source of such activities. Would you be so kind as to show me the way? I seek to gather further evidence on these circumstances.” She said.

“Of course, miss, that’s what Mr. Ware hired me for. The freshest scene is just this way, down this footpath here. Is your driver coming with us?”

“No, why do you ask?” Johanna retorted as she followed the lad’s gesture to the footpath, which was little more than a game trail through the trodden leaves.

“I don’t suppose it’s very wise miss, ‘specially with what’s been happening around these parts.” Havel headed down the muddy path before her, and gave her a quizzical glance over his shoulder. Johanna stopped in her tracks, but her guide kept going. She looked back at her driver, and even though she couldn’t help but shake a feeling of dread, Johanna felt it would be best to leave him behind to attend to the horses.

“He’ll be fine. So what do you think it is?”

“Pardon?”

“The creature. It’s only removing hearts, correct?”

“Yes, miss.”

“You’ve never had that problem before?”

“No, miss. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You don’t suppose it is a creature then?”

“I didn’t say that miss. I said I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Do you think it’s the workings of a man?”

“Could be, but that’s not what the forest hears.” Havel said.

“Not what the forest hears? What do you mean by that?” Johanna didn’t like how the lad spoke in short sentences, with little information yielding in his responses.

“Listen.” Havel stopped suddenly in his tracks held a finger to his lips. It was then, once more, that Johanna heard it. Silence. Not a birdsong, not a rustle through the branches, no pitter-patter of squirrel’s feet; nothing.

“The forest is never silent like this, miss. Ever since this thing moved in, all of the game has left. I can’t find a single deer, nor a rabbit, nor a bird.” The young man returned with a pathetic frown; but it was a truth Johanna couldn’t deny. She had never heard of the villagers around Prague suffering so badly, until now.

“When was the last kill?”

“A little over a week ago.”
“Are you taking me there then?”

“Aye, that I am. I’m not sure if you’ve a strong stomach for this sort of thing, it’s not something for a lady to see.” He sounded sympathetic, as if he warned beforehand, she wouldn’t feel so bad, or not want to go at all.

“I assure you, Havel, that I have quite the constitution.”

“Well then miss, what do you take of this?”

Havel gestured towards the clearing the duo had come to stop in. Before Johanna lay a stag, long dead, about a week by the smell of decomposing tissue. She placed her hand over her nose, forcing back a rush of bile, and approached the carcass. Immediately, she noticed how the massive deer’s legs were broken, and its back as well. If one was a scholar of the arts, they would’ve noticed the same thing as Johanna, the deer’s limbs were eagle-spread, like that of a man. However, the chest cavity to the deer yielded a single, square, cut where the heart had been extracted. Kneeling down alongside the dead deer carcass, Johanna turned the beast’s head towards her, and looked into its now lifeless eyes.

“Help me carry this back to the carriage won’t you?” Johanna pleaded, though none to nicely.

“What for?”

“I have means to examine the body, and I want to be certain the corpse isn’t missing any other organs.” Johanna bit, she didn’t mean to sound frustrated, but the boy and his frustrating questions annoyed her.

Adam eyed Lily thinking things over. He was half annoyed at the delay, but only halfway. He knew he could send her on her way with relative ease but mayhap she could be useful right now. He wasn't sure how exactly, not at the moment, but his mind was swiftly calculating what adjustments would have to be made to weave her into this pattern he was working. He sat in silence a couple minutes, his strange eyes staring at her as the thought.

"Both actually" he said when he finally spoke, his mind made up to bring her into the situation. "I am paying a call on a long time member who sent me a rather puzzling letter implying that her quite dead husband was very much alive."

He had the letter with him and handed it to Lily to review as he continued.

"It is quite impossible of course. However I think there is more to it and I find myself suspicious. I would be glad of the company if you wish to come; you may see something I miss. However I also wish you to be sure this is something you actually want to do."

He paused before continuing.

"It is only a feeling, I have no confirmed data, but I suspect something less than savory. The loss of her husband affected Lady Isabau deeply and I fear her isolation since has done her no favors either. When I visited her last she was uncomfortably forward with her attentions; I felt it very much inappropriate as her husband was very recently deceased. Indeed I might have termed her manner to be somewhat obsessive and manic. Therefore I would caution you to be alert and ready for anything. And I do mean anything. The lady is a skilled doctor, her talent lies in healing but I fear she might have put it to a darker use of late. It is my sincere hope that my suspicions are groundless."

He didn't add that the only pattern that made sense to him was if she was tied into something rather unpleasant. If it wasn't her then there was someone, or something, behind her manipulating her. The living dead husband would be the key to this whole thing if he could get her to open up about it.

Lilian accepted the letter and read it as Adam spoke. When he finished talking she sat a moment in contemplation, allowing the information to soak into her mind and mix with other facts to see if anything connected. With the exception to familiarity with the name D'allende nothing else about the little information she was given stuck out to her.

"Well. I can tell you you are quite mistaken about one thing. The dead returning is not completely out of the realm of possibility. Unless of course you were referring specifically to the late Mr.D'allende. In which case I would..." she cut herself off, a frown growing on her face as her mind sunk into thought. Despite the visceral death of the doctors late husband Lilian could think of at least one way a person could be brought back after such a... definitive end. "...still not agree..." Lilian returned the letter to Adam.

"I would very much like to assist you with this." She said as she reached into a pouch and pulled out a book with numerous book marks poking out of it from all sides. She picked a mark and opened the book to that page "I spent some time looking into Miss D'allende a while ago, before I joined the society. Her work was rather fascinating. But as you made it clear I am to not research members of the society without their consent I have no recent information her. So I'm afraid I have little to offer you in regards to confirming your suspicions. And any previously gathered information on her I am sure you're aware of. You probably know more than I in fact." she closed the book after making a note and returned it to a pouch.

"I will keep my guard up around the lady... I can say that my past experience with doctors is that after a certain point they tend to begin to push boundaries they shouldn't for knowledge. At least the ones who spend their time searching for new methods rather than the sort that practice it." She took out another book from the same pouch, it also having numerous book marks jutting out of it. She opens it to a place at the back "I am not saying that that is what happened here with Miss D'allende. Only that if she took her husbands death as poorly as you suggest, then it is not too much of a leap to presume that was the push that moved her past her own line of morality. Just a thought." She began making notes in her book.

"Yes" Adam said softly. "I would certainly see that as plausible. More than but I'd prefer concrete proof."

The carriage rolled along in silence for a bit as Adam lost himself in thought. He was prone to do this when working through a problem and most who spent any time around him had grown accustomed to it. Finally he roused himself again and spoke up.

"There are other strange happenings around the city that I believe are tied to one another, along with the Lady we are visiting. I'm not sure if she is the source or merely a point of interest. But either way we should look for anything that might be out of pattern. Including among her staff. The easiest place to hide in a wealthy household is in the staff. I believe we should consider making ourselves quite obnoxious to the staff to see what shakes loose."

He pulled a plain wax envelope from a pocket and pulled out a needle. He rolled it in his fingers before handing it to Lily.

"Here, take this and affix it to your sleeve somewhere near the wrist. All those involved in investigations wear such and if looked at while using your Talent you see they look quite unique. In case we get separated this will let others know you are safe to discuss the cases with."

Outside he heard the creak of rusted iron gates and knew they were turning onto the De'allende estate. Now he would have answers to some of the questions that plagued him in the dead of night.

Lilian accepted the needled and slipped it into place on one of her sleeves without looking up from her book. She jotted down a few more notes in the recently created 'De'allende: The Mad Scientist?" chapter in her "People of Interest" notebook. She kept notes on just about everything so of course she had immediately started making some for this case. The creaking gate caught her attention and she looked up and out the window to see what it was. She then made more notes in her book.

Creaky Gate - Hypothesis of cause: Rust.
Implication- Lack of care of grounds could mean lax standards on part of owner of gate.
Importance- If it was only recently that standards became lax this would lend credence to the idea that Mrs. De'allende has changed to some degree.
Importance- Minimal.
Actions - If able, inquire to servants regarding care of grounds. Personal thoughts: The creaking is annoying. Someone should fix that gate.

With that Lilian closed her book but kept it out, holding it close to her side. "You mentioned strange goings on in the city? What do you classify as strange? As frankly I have filled several books with the odd goings on of the city. I have a whole book dedicated to Crazy Clyde alone; interestingly enough his name isn't Clyde, it's Malcolm Holmes. He moved to the city ten years ago from-" Lilian continued speaking about the strange man who wanders the streets of Prague. Not that she remembered but she had already told Adam about Clyde twice before, however in those cases, like this one, she was not really even paying attention to herself as she spoke. She often did this to keep people from talking to her while she was trying to focus on something; she found it easier to talk about a random subject than to try and focus on her thoughts while also listening to someone else. Currently her mind was preoccupied with taking in the grounds. From her memory she could tell the grounds had changed quiet a bit since she was forced to cease her investigation of it and its occupants. But as that was several years ago the changes could easily be explained by time, so she threw the information out. "-and so people started calling him Crazy Clyde. Fascinating example of sociology and psychology no?" She did not expect an answer to the question.

Adam had only been partially listening, in much the way Lily was using the chatter to think so too was he. When they pulled up to the house Lily quit her monologue and Adam nodded briefly. His eyes were cold when he looked at her, not because of the company but because it was duty that compelled him to make this visit and he really didn't want to. He knew he had to push the outward look of that aside and he did, with an effort of will.

"It seems we are out of time at this moment" he said when the carriage rolled to a halt. "I shall have to update you on the other factors at a later time, perhaps it is for the best. For now...let us see what we learn here. I am anxious to hear your opinions formed with no prior knowledge of other oddities; and then see how they change when new information is brought to light."

He climbed gracefully from the carriage, and turned to assist Lily, thinking as he did so how to introduce her. Investigative scientist he decided was the best title to give her, and she looked the part. That would do. He turned back and nodded to his driver, Ren. The man knew what to do. He would be taken to the staff kitchens to await his master's departure as was the custom. While there Ren would casually learn what he could from the staff. Adam wished he had thought to ask Lily to do the same, she could easily claim the need to visit a retiring room or privy and from there she could investigate further. But as the French would say cest la vie, they had plenty to keep them occupied just interviewing the Lady.

He handed his card to the butler at the door, a man he had known quite awhile but formality dictated proper introductions.

"Adam Ware and companion to see the Lady" he said. For the butler's benefit Adam kept Lily's role secretive; the butler would wonder and speculate on the relationship between Lily and Adam. He in turn would pass on his speculations to his mistress. Her reaction when she greeted them would tell much.

The butler showed both of them inside and closed the door behind them. With a bow he quickly disappeared around a corner and into the depths of the house. While they had a moment alone Lilian took the time to examine the inside of the house, walking away from Adam to do so. The inside of the house was what one might call extravagant; the carpets were of a complex pattern and clearly used golden thread in some spots. The paintings on the wall were numerous and the unnerving realism suggest only the finest artists where called upon to make them. The molding fitted to the floors and ceiling were complex and would have taken a long time to make. The furniture and the items that sat atop them were all finely crafted and the styles came from all around the world. One might call the home extravagant, Lilian however, did not. To a noble walking through the house, more concerned with impressing the host, would not notice the feint signs of disrepair. The carpeting should have been taken outside and beaten free of dust months ago and the furniture's surfaces and objects upon them were coated with dust. She would need to see the rest of the house to be sure but at the moment her suspicions before regarding the gate were quickly being proven true.

Lilian's inspection of a small stain on a painting was interrupted by the butler returning with his mistress behind him. Lilian quickly stepped off the chair she was using to get closer to the painting and stood next to Adam. The butler gave the pair an introduction to the lady, as if he hadn't already told her who they were when he fetched her, and was quickly dismissed by Mrs. D'Allende. As it had been sometime since Lillian had seen the Mrs.D'Allende she immediately began taking in every detail so she could update her profile of the lady. Overall the women looked tired and as if she had not left her home in a long time. Her skin looked pale an sickly; the makeup used to conceal the bags under her eyes looked as though it needed to be redone; Her hair appeared as if only the most minimal of effort had been put into tidying it up; And most noticeable -even by someone less observant- was that the dress she was wearing was a month out of fashion. All of these facts Lillian quickly made note of in her book before returning her attention to the lady.

There was a brief, if uncomfortably long moment before anything happened. Isabeau smiled at Adam in a way that Lilian could only describe as fondness, which confirmed Adam's earlier remarks of how the Lady Isabeau was treating him as of late. Though for all Lillian knew that could simply be the way the lady smiled at everyone. A theory quickly proven untrue as she turned her attention to Lilian. It was only for the briefest of moments, but a scowl spread across her face before being quickly replaced with a, slightly less welcoming, smile. Lillian was not the best at picking up on others emotions and what their subtle inflections might mean. However there were some instances, provided the emotion in question was strong enough, that Lillian was able to conclude what a person's emotional state was. In this specific instance it was very clear, even if the truth only showed itself for but a brief moment, that Mrs. D'Allende was very unhappy to see Lillian in her home. Lillian lifted the book she still held and flipped it open to the newly formed chapter, quickly jotting down a note.

Mrs. D'Alende is clearly unhappy to see me in her home – Hypothesis of Cause: ?
Implications- ?
Importance - High
Actions – Be careful while here.
Personal Thoughts - See actions.

Lucie—master thief, infiltrator, and certified manipulator—sat crouched in an alley a score metres away from where Aleksandra stood, hidden among the shadows and doing her very best to stay as silent and immobile as she could. The sun had dipped below the horizon at least an hour ago, casting the alleys and narrow streets into darkness, save for what little yellow light streamed out from the windows dotting the buildings. It was enough to see by if ones’ eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, but also little enough that it was possible to hide.

In her hand she had Aleksandra’s sheathed sword, given to her for safekeeping. Her own weapons were concealed as well, a piece of cloth tied in front of her daggers to keep them from glinting in the light, but allowing her easy access to them should she need them.

Her eyes flicked back and forth down the street, from where Aleksandra walked around aimlessly—like a confused tourist—to the other end of the street where it mouthed out into one of the larger streets of the slum, running parallel to the alley Lucie was currently in. They’d gotten here three quarters of an hour ago, just after the sun had started dipping below the horizon, and the twilight had begun, and set their plan into motion. Lucie had taken Aleksandra’s sword and disappeared into the shadows immediately as they stepped off not very far from where they currently were. Aleksandra had gone to the place specified by Lucie, an area she knew was likely to be deserted. It was a risk being here, as this was near the entrance to one of her ‘Father’s’ underground homes. Not a lot of people from the outside of the underground world expected an underground facility to have been made, large enough to house several families, but it had been accomplished.

As it was, their plan was to simply wait for whoever it was that kidnapped people, but as it was no one had shown up. Not even a random drunk from a nearby bar had made it down here, a testament to just how careful people were around this place. Get too close to Filip’s home without being part of his “family”, and you weren’t likely to see the light of day again.

She glanced back at Aleksandra without moving her head, watching her. Here’s hoping it works.

Aleksandra plodded about the street, looking for all the world a befuddled tourist. She wasn’t overly thrilled about the role she’d been given in this scheme, but it would be worth it if it meant punching the reason for all this headache in the face. Her hand strayed down to the slight protrusion on her side formed by the grip of one of her pistols.

Looking over at the location Lucie was, she made sure the woman could tell she was looking at her before looking away, down the street, and throwing her arms up in the air as if conceding defeat and acknowledging she was hopelessly lost in the urban maze.

Lucie didn’t move as Aleksandra looked towards her, making no show of having noticed her gaze. Doing so would be dangerous, or at least jeopardize her position. As it was she was practically invisible, incapable of being noticed by just about anyone. She only knew of a handful of people who had been attentive enough to spot her even when she did her very best at hiding, and none of them seemed to be present at this moment. In spite of their vicinity to Filip’s hideout and her old home, they shouldn’t be here. At least not at this time.

She let out a quiet sigh, little more than a simple exhale, and let her eyes roam the streets again. Someone had to show up at some point. She refused to believe that they knew she was there.

---

No one showed up.

Another hour had passed during which Aleksandra had made no attempt to hide her exasperation at the current situation. Lucie herself was little better, feeling her legs starting to get sore from standing in the same position for so long.

She groaned and, deciding that they weren’t going to get anything done this way, slipped away. Moving through the shadows she came out to the main street of the slums a few minutes later, then started strolling back towards where Aleksandra was. She removed the cloth from the front of her daggers, allowing them to glint in the light which gave Aleksandra something to notice when she approached.

She stopped not far from where the Russian was walking, a very dissatisfied look on her face. “They’re not going to show up,” she said, having reverted to English. “This plan isn’t going to work.” She lifted the sheathed sword in her hand, holding it out to Aleksandra. “We’ll have to use other means. I know somewhere we can go.”

Aleksandra took her sword, strapping it firmly to her waist with practiced ease. “I’m going to say this now, I didn’t think it would work.” She looked down at the other woman, “Our friends, whoever they are, aren’t looking for errant tourists - I suspect they have specific targets. I doubt they’ll just see a handsome devil such as myself and attempt to kidnap me.” She tapped her chin, commenting in her male voice, “Oh, if only I had a beard to pensively stroke.”

“Tell me where this place we can go is, and we can discuss further tactics.” She paused, “Are you sure your contacts don’t know anything else?”

“I suspect you’re right,” she said quietly cocking her head towards the main street of the slums. “And I’m sure. I only have the descriptions of them, and their names: Ales, Hubert, and Jakob.” She motioned for Aleksandra to start down the street she’d come from, and, reluctant though she was to show inferiority, she followed a few steps behind Aleksandra, looking more like a hired bodyguard than a partner. She gave quiet directions whenever they were to turn a corner or walk down a certain street, making certain that only Aleksandra could hear them. “The only thing I’ve been able to discover as to the disappearances, is that there are three from… where I come from. All handsome and in good shape.” They walked by a thin road which, Lucie remembered, lead down to one of the most isolated districts of the town, the only way to it being this road, or through the Underworld’s hideouts.

She narrowed her eyes briefly, taking hold of Aleksandra’s arm to stop her. “Down here,” she said quietly. “Dangerous area. Make sure your sword is exposed. If anyone’s looking, seeing us armed will deter them.” Not waiting to see if Aleksandra followed, Lucie made her way down the road, eyes flicking to and fro, up and below. She reached a small intersection, the road splitting into three, slightly larger, directions. One in front, and one to either side, all of them eventually meeting again later on. She chose the middle one, walking silently.

For a long while she said nothing, simply walking. She eventually stopped and held up a hand to signal Aleksandra to do the same. They were in what posed as a small market district, only there were no stalls or shops, and it was barely twenty steps across. What’s more, it was the very centre of this district, and anyone who were looking for something would have gone through here. There were also enough streets running to and from this place that one could easily have hidden here and sprung upon unsuspecting prey.

She sucked in a breath and kneeled down, placing her hand flat against the cold ground. Closing her eyes, she looked into the very core of this area, seeing what it was, and what had happened.

“Chase,” she said quietly, half a dozen images flickering through her mind’s eye as the word was uttered, all of them of adults running after street children for one reason or another. When that didn’t yield any results, she said, “Hiding,” directing her powers towards anything to do with somebody hiding. Another handful of images passed by, In one of them there was… something. She couldn’t tell what, but there definitely was something.

Finally, she muttered the word “Kidnapped,” at which point a series of pictures sprang forth. She took a ‘Memory’ of each, and stood up, turning around to Aleksandra. “Three people here,” she said, grimacing. “This is where the three from my old home were kidnapped. They match the descriptions of the missing men I managed to dig up earlier today. One brown haired and bearded, one blonde and clean shaven, and a completely bald man. All of them handsome and healthy, and now gone.” She groaned, the sudden realisation of the amount of work they had before them coming to her. “This is going to be a long night,” she muttered.

Waking from a deep slumber, Wesley’s eyes flickered open unwillingly as he felt the pang of hunger in his stomach. Reaching for his pocket watch that sat upon his bedside table, the time read shortly after 11:45 a.m. When he pushed himself into a seated position, a rush of blood to the head brought on a pounding headache. Too many bottles of ale were the source of his headache, as it was every night. Pulling away the quilted covers of his bed, Wes stood up, and stretched like a cat, arms extended high behind his head, mouth agape in a yawn, and rolled his head from side-to-side, cracking the bones in his neck from the deep sleep that had left him so stiff. As he proceeded to dress himself, pulling a pair of black, linen trousers from his drawers, Wesley’s gaze shifted out to the window, where his room held a view overlooking the circular stone drive of House Ianus. There, he watched as a small, black carriage pulled into the drive of House Ianus. A peculiar woman, small in stature, with chocolate-brown hair piled high atop her head, descend from the carriage, and began to converse with the driver. His gaze was drawn to the roof of the carriage where a deer carcass was strapped to the roof.

’How strange…’ He thought to himself as he watched her leave the side of the carriage and enter the manor.

When he finished buttoning his white cotton shirt, he slipped on a velvet maroon waist-coat, and pulled on his boots. Shortly after, Wesley exited his room, and headed downstairs, in hopes of meeting up with the woman, and to see what she was up to, considering the odd circumstances of the deer. As he rounded the hallway, and reached the top of the stairs that led to the entrance to House Ianus, he spotted the same woman that he had watched from the windows, knocking mud off her boots. With a broad grin spreading across his face, Wesley descended the stairs, and cleared his throat in hopes of catching her attention.

“G’morning ma’am.” He began, the woman’s head snapped in his direction at the sound of his voice, her brows furrowed together at the sight of him. When Wesley reached the bottom of the grand staircase, he strode over to her with gallant strides, and extended his hand towards her. “The name’s Wesley Craven, at your service.”

“Good morning, Mr. Craven. I am Johanna Roheisia Valerivicus, though if you wish, you may call me Jo.” Her silvery eyes sparkled bright like that of a starry night sky. “I don’t believe we have met.” She grasped his hand in hers, and found that hers was three times smaller than his own as she gave it a firm shake. Her eyes swept over him, and took note of how tall he was.

“No, I don’t think we have. I’m somewhat new to House Ianus. Say, what were you up to with that deer?”

“The deer? Ah yes that… Mr. Ware asked me to investigate some troubling matters that have occurred on the outskirts of the city here, in the woods where the other townsfolk live. The deer is a matter that I must investigate, and determine the cause of death. As it has not only happened to this deer, but several other animals within the woods. The villagers are terrified to visit the woods after nightfall.” Johanna explained as she removed the black, leather gloves from her dainty hands.

“Really? Would you care to explain why they are so frightened?” Wesley inquired, now intrigued at Johanna’s explanation for the purpose of bringing the deer back to the manor.

“That’s what I intend to find out. I’m having my driver bring the deer to the lower catacombs of the manor, so that I may perform an autopsy, and deduce what is the true cause of death. Whether it be gaseous bubbles, some animal, a parasite, or the work of a human. Nonetheless, I intend to discover the source of the problem, and restore peace of mind to the villagers that live in the woods.”

“May I accompany you then? I’m rather curious to see what you find.” Here, Wesley received a dazzling smile from the lovely woman that stood before him.

“I would appreciate a second pair of eyes. It would help me make certain that I have not missed any puzzling details.”

Just then, the driver from her carriage entered from the opposite end of the grand hall, where the two stood conversing, as he had to use the other entrance to bring the carcass around.
“Madam Valerivicus, the deer is ready at your expense in the lower catacombs when you are ready.”

“Ah, thank you, Arnost. You’ve been most helpful. I shall call for you again, when your services are needed.” With a nod of her head, Arnost, the carriage driver departed from the hall in pursuit of other tasks. “Well then Mr. Craven, would you like to accompany to the lower levels of the manor?” Johanna asked as she started off towards a spiral staircase located in the corner of the hall that led to the levels below.

“It would be my pleasure, ma’am.” Wesley flashed her a brilliant smile, consisting of neat, white teeth. She found it interesting, as she was unaware of where he came from, and wherever he did, he must have really taken care of his teeth. Or at least strayed away from beverages, such as tea and coffee, and foods that would have stained his teeth, or even tobacco.

Together, the two descended into the caverns below House Ianus, where they found the curious works of electricity lighting their way. Johanna took the lead, and peered inside each workroom they passed, searching for where Arnost had dropped off the carcass. Finally, Johanna located the room where Arnost put the stag, conveniently in a room with an autopsy like table. In truth, it was just a large wooden table.
“Would you care to enlighten me as to why you’re investigating this carcass?” Wes asked in a bewildered tone, he noted the broken legs, and how the deer lay spread-eagle on the table-top with a strange, square cut hole where the heart would be found. He had his fair share of hunting in the forested mountains of Santa Fe, in his younger years, as well as across the plains. He had never witnessed anything to the liking before him.

“When I spoke to the guide that Mr. Ware provided me, the poor bloke seemed absolutely terrified. I could tell he didn’t want to visit the corpse whatsoever, and was reluctant to do so at the prospect of coin, graciously provided by Mr. Ware, as well. However, I was under the impression that this was the doing of a rabid bear. This is the first corpse I was shown, as I have not seen the others.” Johanna explained once more, as she ventured near another table pushed along the far wall, where a various array of assorted medical tools was lined up in an orderly fashion. It was apparent, that either Arnost, or another house servant, had readied the room for her. Johanna reached into a hidden pocket in her dress, and retrieved a small journal. There she cracked it open, as she fetched a rather curious form of an ink pen, one that held the reserves of the liquid ink inside the capsule. However once depleted, the pen would need filling once more. Her pen made quiet scratching noises against the grain of the paper as she recorded what she noticed.

Subject has legs broken, body spread-eagle upon discovery. Chest cavity wound shows no sign of animal teeth, or claws, for the edges of the cut, where the heart has been extracted, to be straight. As if a medical tool were used, such a scalpel. However, the possibility, of a knife, or a razor, is not out of question.

“I’ve never seen any handiwork like this be the source of a rabid bear. And that’s a fact.” Wes stated.

“Mr. Craven, may I ask you something?”

“Absoluetly.”

“Where is it you hail from?”

“Me? I’m from America.”

“I believed so, though your accent is unfamiliar to me, I take it you’re not from the Eastern Coast, then?”

“No. I was born, and raised in Santa Fe, in the New Mexico territories.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How intriguing.” As she spoke, Johanna quietly worked, as she picked up a scalpel, and sliced open the chest of the stag. “Hmm…”

“What do you see?” He asked, peering closer at the corpse spread upon the table, and into the chest cavity.

“It is just as my guide told me. Only the heart has been removed. All of the other organs that I can see, are still present.” With that, Johanna proceeded to roll up her dress sleeves, and dove her hands into the hole of the chest, where she carried on with removing all of the internal organs. “Fetch me that cauldron there, on the far table, Mr. Craven.” She instructed as she removed one lung. Wesley did as she asked, and reached for a black cauldron on the floor. He hoisted it onto the table, where Johanna then placed the lung inside, followed by another lung, and other internal organs, including the liver, spleen, kidneys, bladder, and intestines. More scritching noise filled the air, as she wrote with one hand, recording more notes in her leather-bound journal.

Subject has all vital organs present, save for the heart as suspected.

“What do you intend to do now?” Wes inquired, watching her write. He was rather intrigued by her curious mannerisms, for he had never come across the likes of a woman like Johanna before. Especially one that wasn’t disturbed, or disgusted by rooting around inside a dead animal.

“Well, I intend to return the forest, find my guide, and round up the other corpses, for further examination. If I therein find, that indeed, all of the hearts of these animals are removed, then I believe I will set a trap, in an attempt to lure whomever, or whatever this thing maybe.” Johanna replied, her silver eyes met his sky-blue ones, and offered him a half smile.

~~~~Group A~~~~

Isabeau eyed her guests carefully, letting just a whisper of her talent drift through her mind as she looked at them. Both were healthy and strong, and possessing unusual abilities though she could not discern the nature of the abilities. In fact she had never really known what Adam's Talent was, only that as the acting Master of the Society it must be quite strong.

She did pick up a whisper of something odd about Adam's health, but she dared not probe further. She didn't want him to suspect her actions, or anything else about her for that matter. That meant she must be brief. She wasn't thrilled he had brought a companion but she hid her ire quickly behind a deceptively warm smile.

“Welcome” she said keeping her voice pleasant and musical. “Adam it's so good to see you.”

Adam bowed his head slightly but kept quiet. He had not been unaware of her brief scrutiny and deduced she had used her Talent in some way; he wondered what she had seen. But this was a game, or a trap, either way it would be played out.

“Your letter was most convincing” he said keeping a serious tone. “My companion and I thought it best to visit and discuss the issue in person.” He kept details about Lily purposefully vague. He knew that Isabeau would be trying to work it out and hopefully that would distract her some.

Isabeau blinked genuinely startled. “Letter?” The she remembered. That was long ago, well long enough. When she first discovered the truth. She had forgotten she had been afraid once.

Adam too was surprised. He thought the letter had been the bait for a trap, was she genuinely afraid and seeking aid when she wrote it? That was a piece he wasn't expecting.

Isabau once more composed herself and waved a hand airly. “That was a trifle, the ravings of a grief stricken widow and my dreams. I had terrible bouts of insomnia you know. It's all better now. But come, come, lets not talk in the entry way.”

She clapped her hands once, swiftly, and a housemaid materialized from some side room.

“We will be taking tea in the salon” she said in an imperious voice.

“Wee Wee madam” said the young maid in a french accent that was so atrocious Adam fought to hid a wince. “I will see to it immediately.”

A well trained french woman was the current ideal in ladies maids, modistes, and all manner of other servants. Thus most enterprising young women tried to mimic a french accent and slip as much french into ordinary conversation as they could. The results were a mixture of bad, really bad, and terrible.

Isabeau seemed not to notice and glided the rest of the way to Adam's side, looping her arm through his and leaning against him in a far too familiar manner.

“Come come Adam. I shall tell you all that has been going on and you can have a good laugh at how silly I was. Me, a woman of science, a modern thinking woman of the world terrified of a ghost.”

She laughed a charming laugh and guided him down the hall towards the sitting room. She very pointedly ignored Lily, leaving the other woman in her wake to join them as she could.

The drawing room was hideous, at least in Adam's eyes. Velvet, tassles, and ornate wallpaper was everywhere. The shapes and carvings were busy and unpleasant, and the furniture was too fussy. He much preferred the asture surroundings on the House Ianus or the traditional men's study to a ladies salon. Funny thing was, he thought Isabeau would have felt the same.

She wasn't wrong in her earlier assessment of herself. She was a scientest and a very practical woman. She kept things simple and easy to manage; at least in relationships and clothing. He had assumed her house would be the same. He looked around as he assisted the Lady to a chair. He wasn't sure, couldn't be certain, but this room seemed somewhat...old. Not just the style of the furnishings and decorations but the air. Like she hadn't used it in a very long time. Longer than he expected. She didn't have many guests, even when her husband was alive, but still this room seemed to have been ignored.

Adam carefully settled himself down on a chair, not next to the Lady as she so clearly wished, and pulled the letter from his pocket.

“Your words were somewhat puzzling” he said smoothly “perhaps you could explain a bit?”

Isabeau smiled graciously, her eyes rivited on Adam. She touched just the tiniest bit of her talent, there was still something that bothered her about him, but for all intents and purposes he seemed perfect for what she needed and she didn't want him to depart. Adam's companion she would deal with later, Isabeau considered her no more than a trifle, a woman to be disposed of eventually but right now she needed a man. Adam was who she had chosen for this final phase of her work, her research was almost complete and together she and he would make history.

Adam felt a bit uncomfortable as she turned a radiant, though he suspected false, smile on him and began to talk. He also felt a bit unsettled, things weren't fitting into the puzzle as they should and what was more worrisome was that the puzzle didn't seem clearly defined any more. There was something seriously wrong with the whole thing and damned if he wasn't going to stick around and find out just exactly what it was.


~~~Group B~~~
Havel was relieved to be done with the carcass, after they manhandled it onto the carriage he was coated in stinking mess which he was not thrilled about. The lady had suggested she might be back but he didn't want to wait, smelling like a corpse, in this cursed woods. He took off home, putting the forest and the creature and the curse out of his mind. The forest didn't notice his absence and what few creatures were still around continued their business. All, even traditionally nocturnal predators, knew that daylight was the time to be out, and that the darker it got the less safe it became.

Most of the day had passed by the time Johanna was finished with her examination. The sun was low in the sky and Havel was long since home. Adam hadn't thought to let Johanna know the home address of her guide, and he was keen on avoiding the night in the forest, so he left no sign of where he went or if he would be back. It was left to Johanna, now with the assistance of Wes, to delve further into the woods on their own.

The creature knew darkness was coming, it paced within the walls that confined it, one single command cemented in its feeble mind.

Go out only in Darkness. Go out only in Darkness.

But it knew that soon it could leave, it would be free to roam. These walls were so small, so tiny, and there was so much to learn still.

NOTES FOR REFERENCE:
Group A—Adam, Lily
Group B--Rabid Bear in the Woods. Johanna, Wes
Group C--Missing Men. Aleksandra, Lucie

Lillian stood awkwardly in the doorway of the drawing room, a tight grip upon the notebook she still had out. While she normally cared little whether or not she was ignored -in fact she often preferred to be as it made it easier to work- under the circumstances she was finding herself rather annoyed at being so overtly avoided. Ignored or not it was clear Mrs. D'Alende hadn't forgotten Lilian was still around as many often do, and it was fairly obvious based on her current line of dialogue that she was not going to say anything that may be of use so long as Lilian remained. The most logical conclusion would be to excuse herself and walk away to wander the grounds and dig up information. However she found herself uncomfortable with the thought of leaving Adam alone with someone whose mannerisms suggested they are not to be totally trusted.

Isabeau, though surprised it was the letter that brought Adam to her home, was still very happy to see him. In fact she seemed to care very little for the letter even though it is very apparent she was extremely distressed at the time she wrote it. Lillian found it difficult to believe someone could recover so quickly from what was such an emotional event, even getting to the point of waving away the whole incident without a care. Most people never recover from losing a spouse, and yet Mrs.D'Alende seemed to be moving on with relative ease based on how she was treating her male quest. Not that Lillian was so sure Isabeau's intentions were strictly companion based. Some might call the the look she was giving Adam an attempt at gaining his affections, Lilian however would attribute the look more to the excitement of a scientist, rather than of a lustful woman.

Of course whether Mrs.D'Alende's intentions were spurred by lust or science was not Lillians main concern, nor what made her linger in the doorway like a wayward soul. Not long after she and Adam had made their way deeper into the manor she began to feel rather usual. The best way to describe this feeling was calmness, a sort of 'at ease' feeling with everything that was happening. To some this may seem a good thing, or at the very least nothing of great concern, but to her it set off alarms. When one experiments with chemicals and unknown substances one learns to take notice of unprovoked changes in emotional and physical status. Whats more, is it began to feel as if her ability was trying to activate on its own. At least this is the best way she could describe the feeling to herself. There is a very distinct set of feelings that accompany leaving ones body. The feeling just before leaving, the feeling of leaving, the feeling of having just left, the feeling of being out of ones body, the feeling of returning, and the feeling of becoming aware you are in your rightful place again. Since they arrived at the drawing room she felt as though she was constantly on the cusp of leaving her body. As if someone or something had taken hold of her mind and was trying to gently coax it out but wasn't, either by choice or inadequacy, able to summon the strength to do so.

Neither Adam nor Lillian had been offered anything to drink or eat so poison was unlikely, unless it was some form of contact based poison that coated everything Lillian had been touching. Though that seemed extreme to the point of ridiculousness and required a level of paranoia and speculative forethought that Lillian doubted any human was capable of. The possibility of an odorless gas filling the halls crossed Lillian's mind but that seemed just as implausible. The only reasonable explanation Lillian could come to was that Isabeau was using her ability and that it somehow effected others abilities. If that was the case -and it was the most likely option at that point- then Adam was most likely experiencing the same thing as Lillian and would have his guard up.

Still unsure about leaving, but confident that Adam could handle himself, Lillian turned on a heel and walked away, saying nothing to either of the persons she left behind. While Adam kept the attention of Mrs.D'Alende, Lilian could focus her own attention on the house and the staff. There was more going on here than the supposed return of a dead husband and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
As she moved farther away from the drawing room the feeling of being about to leave her body quickly went away. It was clear at that point that the strangeness she had experienced was localized to the lady of the house which only served to confirm her opinion that Isabeau is not to be trusted. Lifting her notebook Lillian made a quick note before making her way back to the foyer.

Mrs. D'Alende is not to be trusted
Reasoning - Unusual hostility towards my presence. Clear interest in Adam (Romantic?/ Scientific?). Possess unknown ability that she was clearly attempting to use on me (Adam as well?).
Implications – My well being and possibly Adam's as well may be on the line. She clearly has a need of or use for Adam.
Importance – Critical
Actions – Do not leave Adam and her alone for long. Do not accept food or drink. Do not use ability unless necessary. Keep an eye out for Ren.
Personal Thoughts – Speak with Adam after this is done regarding his ban of researching members. Lack of information here is making things difficult.

Once back at the foyer Lillian flipped to a blank page and drew a quick layout of the area before making her way down the left most hall. Hall by hall, room by room (at least those that were unlocked) Lillian began to map out the home. This was a common practice for her as it was the quickest way to finds secret rooms as well as get a feel for how the residents lived. Normally she would need to start on the outside and work her way in to make the most accurate map, but under the circumstances she was able to make do with what she could see through windows combined with her initial viewing of the house upon arriving.

At a brisk pace, combined with the numerous locked doors, Lillian was able to make a reasonably accurate map of the inside of the home in short time. Reviewing her map she found that there were many areas that were incomplete and needed to be filled in. She was able to fill in a few areas using the known architecture and logic, however all in all the map proved quite useless for its intended purpose. Even searching the few rooms that were unlocked proved fruitless as most were either bathrooms, quest bed rooms, or linen closets. All of which were as horribly decorated as the drawing room. All she was able to gain from her endeavor was that the trend of disrepair she noticed in the foyer continued throughout the house. The halls were tidy, the beds, made, the washrooms void of unpleasant smells and stains; anything one might consider an immediately noticeable issue had been taken care of. But the smaller tasks such as removing dust, oiling hinges, or polishing tarnished metal surfaces had been completely neglected. It was as if the entire serving staff had decided to do the bare minimum and the lady of the house was content with such a change.

With that in mind Lillian flipped to a new page in her book and made a note at the top of the page indicating the following pages were notes on the staff of the D'Alende manor. It was clear the staff had become rather lax in their care of the estate and perhaps finding out why might answer some questions.

Book and pen in hand Lillian went off in search of a member of the staff who was alone and may be able to answer some questions.

Wes leaned on the palms of his hands, with a broad smile etched onto his angelic face, his eyebrows raised in a pleading gesture. “C’mon, won’t you let me come with you? If you’re going back tonight, you might as well have a gunman at your side for protection.” Johanna had informed him after the autopsy on the stag, that she intended to return tonight, and investigate the forest under the cover of darkness in an attempt, however futile, to either catch the creature, or man, that was behind the source of the strange killings, or discover its lair, or even find fresh tracks. She glanced at Wesley with a grim frown, the thought of a man accompanying her into the forest on her investigation didn’t appease her by any means. Remaining silent, she debated inwardly, mentally, as to whether or not, he would be of any help to her. She had eyed the pistols that hung at his hips in their leather holsters, and sighed crossly, raising a hand to her forehead, as if checking for a temperature.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to come along, I am fully capable of handling myself, and defending myself.” She protested, glowering at him. Who did he think she was, some European woman that couldn’t take care of herself? One of those pathetic women that were constantly fainting from the tightness of their corsets?

“Well, I would feel just horrible if something bad were to happen to you, Johanna. What if this thing,” He waved his hand in the air, as if gesturing to some fictional creature that laid in wait for her in the forest, “caught you, and ate you alive? Now that would be most… ungentlemanly of me, were I to neglect my duty of providing assistance to you. I’m not saying that you can’t protect yourself, or defend yourself against some animal. I just think, that we’re not dealing with your atypical wolf, or bear here. This may be some creature unknown to the forests around here. If anything, two eyes are better than one, and certainly, two guns are better than none.” The smile had vanished from his face, leaving him with lowered brows, and lips set in a firm, thin line. Her eyes lingered on him as she contemplated his words. It was true, she couldn’t deny that much. Whatever that thing was that lurked in the forest, it would be safer to bring Wesley along than to go at this alone.

---

---

And that’s how Wesley joined Johanna in the cover of darkness in the forests surrounding Prague.

After preparing for their excursion out into the forest, bringing along two canteens full of water, along with half a loaf of dried bread, Wesley’s pistols, Johanna’s French rapier, two horses that they borrowed from the stables, and a letter left for Adam, which read:

Dearest Mr. Ware,

Mr. Wesley Craven, and I, have ventured out into the forest in search of the beast that plagues, and terrifies the village-folk of this area. I have performed an autopsy on a week old kill of a stag. You will find the carcass in the confines of the catacombs, four work-rooms down from the stairwell. I have asked one of the servants to keep the body until I return for further examination. Please forgive the smell, as I am certain it is most unpleasant. I have left all of my notes in the workroom, if you wish to read upon my findings. You will discover that I have unearthed the same thing, that the animal was only missing its heart. However, there are some other notes present that you may find worth examining. We have borrowed two horses from the stables, and will return either tonight, or at sunrise tomorrow. If we have not returned by sunrise, please send a search party, as some tragedy may have befallen us. We plan to visit the north-western quadrant of the forest, as several of the attacks are located here. We hope to seek out the creature itself, or better yet, it’s lair. I have taken the map of the forest’s, and beneath this letter, is a picture drawn, detailing the path we have chosen, along with the area circled with where we are headed.

Yours Truly,

Johanna Roheisia Valerivicus & Wesley Andrew Craven

---

---

Night had fallen fast, leaving Johanna and Wesley to guide their horses at a slower pace than intended, even though the moon shone bright in the sky above them. The warmth of her leather gloves aided against the chill of the night air as their horses trotted along the dirt path. She had taken a map of the forest with her, and she even found a lantern to use. White, ghostly vapors rose into the air, escaping from their mouth’s, and from their horses. While her grey, wool cloak kept out much of the cold, it didn’t keep all of it out. They continued on in silence, with a heavy tension in the air hanging between them; both anxious as to what they would discover. On the ride to the forest, which took the better part of two hours, Wesley and Johanna had argued profusely as to whether or not who should take the lead in regards to the horses. It was soon settled that they would ride side-by-side if possible. Fortunately, the undergrowth in the forest was limited, most of it consisting of common plant, and flora found in Prague, such as moss, forest ferns, and lichens. Due to the climate in the area surrounding Prague, as well as most European countries, such as France, Germany, Spain, even Italy, the forests were either deciduous, or coniferous. Yet, the location of Prague, made for the forests in these parts to be coniferous in composition, meaning that most of the trees were either, spruce, pine, or firs. Since the trees were coniferous, they grew tall and the branches of the trees didn’t grow until more than halfway up the tree trunk, allowing Johanna and Wes to move with ease under the forest canopy without the need to be cautious of low-lying branches whacking them in the face every few feet.

Suddenly, Wes held up his hand, and pulled back on the reins of his horse, a smart creature, with a chestnut coat, and a dark brown mane. The gelding gave a soft whinny in protest, but fell quiet, as its ears flicked forward, as if hearing something they couldn’t. Johanna had fallen behind Wes, and raised herself up in the stirrups of her saddle, trying to obtain a better view on what captivated his attention. There before them, lay a fresh kill. What little moonlight that trickled down through the branches of the trees, illuminated an abundant puddle of blood. With a swing of his leg, Wesley dismounted in one motion, and drew out both of his pistols. He glanced over to Johanna, and with a nod of his head, she followed after him, swiftly dismounting from her horse as well, drawing out her rapier in case the creature, or the thing was near-by. Johanna reached for the lit lantern, and held it one hand, rapier in the other, as she, and Wesley, carefully made their way closer to the downed animal. Upon drawing closer, they discovered that the animal, was actually a young bear. The behemoth of the creature lay unmoving in a pool of blood, with its eyes wide open, and its jaw slack. A thick purple tongue hung outside of its fanged teeth, and when she lifted the lantern, Johanna noted that the fur around its throat was wet with blood. Wes made his way to the other side of the bear, and ever so gently, rolled the bear onto its side. There, Johanna raised her hand to her mouth, as bile rose up, threatening to spew onto the ground, as the bear’s organs spilled from out of its abdominal cavity. Her eyes stung with salty tears as she forced the nauseating sensation back down. Pointing with one finger, Wesley spoke in a quiet voice, so as not to draw unwanted attention to themselves, lest the beast still lingered in the area.

“Do you see there? Its throat has been slit, in a straight line. And here, on its side, there are long claw marks in the fur.” He then pointed to the wounds on the side, indicating that another creature had attacked the bear. “This cut here, on the abdomen, is linear as well, just like the throat. I think a knife was used to cut open the belly of this here bear. Shall we take a look at the organs?” Wes came around to join Johanna, and stared at the bear with her. He could tell from the size of the bear alone, that it wasn’t a full, mature adult.

Even though her stomach threatened to upheave its contents from this morning, Johanna nodded vigorously, as a strand of brown hair tumbled loose from its pinned position in her bun. She lifted the hem of her dress, and did her best not to let it fall into the blood that pooled around the bear, although that was harder to do, and the hems of her dress were soon drenched in crimson. Kneeling beside the bear, Johanna pushed the sleeves of her dress past her elbows, and dove her hands into the abdominal cavity, fishing out organs, quietly naming them as she went.

“Kidneys. Intestines. Bladder. Lungs…” She stopped in her list of identification when she soon discovered that the heart was missing, and even curiously, after she had removed all other intestinal organs, the liver was gone too. “Wesley, I think it’s the same beast. The heart is missing, and so is the liver.”

“It’s got to be it. Golly, I’ll be darned. This beast, whatever it is, it sure did make a mess. I think it was hungry, had one helluva an appetite, I’ll say.” He added, as he had knelt alongside her, taking the lantern into his own hand, while he confirmed the presence, or lack-thereof, of the organs. The candlelight in the lantern flickered to and fro, threatening to extinguish itself, as a strong breeze blew through the area.

A hair-raising howl called their attention to the north, in the general direction they were originally headed. In unison, Johanna’s hazel eyes locked on Wesley’s artic blue one’s, as her brows rose in surprise.

“Do you think that’s it?” She whispered.

“Has to be. Doesn’t sound like a wolf at all…” He added, their horses had heard the howl, and they began to shift with unease, and paw at the ground, giving snorts of discomfort, and fear.

“Let’s go.” Rising to her feet, Johanna hurried back to her horse, a dark bay mare, and pulled herself into the saddle.

They headed north for another half-hour, before Wesley stopped their advance once more. She was about to ask what the matter was this time, but she had not the chance as he dropped to the ground, and began sweeping away the pine needles that had blanketed the forest floor. Underneath the cover of the needles, with the aid of the lantern light, a series of horse-prints were prominent in the dried mud, along with several fresher ones. He looked up at her, the light of the moon had been obscured by a set of nimbus clouds, leaving only the soft glow of the lantern to distinguish the horse-shoes in the ground.

“Someone’s been trekking through here an awful lot.” Wesley said, “Most of these are headed north-west a-ways. Suppose we should keep going?” He inquired. By any means, he didn’t want to place them in any danger, at least for the sake of Johanna’s livelihood.

“Yes, we ought to go as far as we can.” She returned, and watched as he mounted his horse once more, leading the gelding up a now noticeable pathway. Despite the fallen pine needles, it was easy to see that someone had frequented this path, as there were less pine needles than in the surrounding area, such as off the path.

Continuing on in an attentive watch, the two led their horses deeper into the woods, until they came to a broad clearing. In this clearing, there was a curious building, one that looked much like a mill, though in much need of repair with the need of a new roof, and several broken windows, or at least what she could see. There were even stranger, circular, metal devices, with sharp pointed edges that lay about the exterior, if she had a clue, she would have guessed them to be farm tools, but to her, it reminded her oddly, of a meat shredder, how she knew that, she could not say. A heavy fog filled the clearing, and now, the moon had emerged from behind the clouds, shining brightly upon the area below. The sensation of chills swept over her body, raising the hair on her neck and limbs, even her face felt goose-pimpled. In her chest, her heart banged away like a pounding drum, one that made her afraid that whatever, or whoever lay in wait in the area, would hear the very noise of her heart. They exchanged wary glances with one another, certain that the source of the horse-shoe prints originated from this particular area, as the dirt had been worn smooth, and there was an absence of pine needles as well. Wes made an attempt to dismount his horse when he stopped halfway, hanging off the side of his horse, clutching the seat of his saddle and the saddle horn. Johanna looked at him with wide eyes again, as they both had heard an unfamiliar, animalistic sound coming from within the interior of the mill, what sounded like a strangled growl, or grunting noise. Now they listened on in horrified silence.

~~~Group C~~~~

Filip watched the pair move through the streets. He was glad he had waited. When he had first picked up their trail he had thought it might be an easy enough mark. Of course he had only seen the one at first. The gentleman looked well to do enough that between the boots and whatever pocket monies he might have it would be enough for the day. Enough for a couple days of ale and bread and he could climb up inside a bottle in a warm cozy tavern and forget his troubles for awhile. That was really all he was after anymore; just a chance to forget. At least for awhile.

He had moved along the rooftops and walls like a forest squirrel. He was one of the better second story men in the area; if he would allow himself the dedication to burgling. Instead he was fond of the quick solution; the snatch and grab. Brute force. It was simpler.

So he had planned to mug the man. Instinct held him back, that and that no one else was bothering with them. The latter could be blamed on the trouble. In fact, if he was honest with himself his reluctance might be blamed on the same thing. No one just wandered around these days; it was likely they had something to do with things.

So instead of robbing the stranger he followed him, until he met up with another. And then things got a little strange. Definitely these folk were up to no good; but he didn't remember seeing them down here in the stews. Maybe there was still a way he could make money off of them. Information was valuable. Information on strangers, well to do and dangerous strangers even more so.

Filip slunk along in the darkness as he followed the pair. Behind him a tunnel opened under the city, a thin trickle of liquid, sewage and who knew what else, trickled out. Tucked in a shadow created by the wall and the sickly green lantern light, he settled into the dark to watch. The smell was one he was used to, as were all who lived and worked down here, so he didn't even notice when the foul liquid lapped at his heels.

What he did notice, and it was starting to give him the “willies”, was the silence all around. It was literally just these two strangers. And himself. Even after the troubles a few intrepid souls were out at night. This night, not so much. It was making the fine hairs at the back of his neck stand up.

When a very strange rolling scream rent the night air he couldn't take it any longer.
https://clyp.it/4jdf3h5v

Had he possessed the familiarity with the American west that Wes Craven had, he would have recognized the scream immediately. As it was poor Filip knew only that a woman was screaming as if she was being killed. Standing up he bolted down the tunnel, squelching sounds echoing behind him as he sloshed his way into the darkness. No longer caring who heard or saw him.


~~Group D~~~

The sound of a small body hitting the wall was not uncommon in this particular slum house. Nearly people lived here, packed in four smallish “apartments”. Petr was completely used to it and thought nothing of it, even though it was his body that thudded dully into the wall.

“Git!” hissed the woman who served as his “mother” though it was doubtful she was really his mother by blood. He had never remembered another in his life, but everyone said his real mother sold him almost as soon as he could walk, sold him to buy more liquor. He didn't care, he was too used to it by now. He just survived; he didn't live.

“Git the doc now!!” she hissed through clenched teeth and tears. Already hauling back her hand to cuff her son across the head again.

“But Ma” whined Petr as he he picked himself up off the ground. “It's dark and...you know.”

“Don't be stupid boy. Your sister is dying. Get the doc NOW!!” She would never admit the truth, she would not loose the only girl child she had, the only child who was her genuine child, not some street waif she picked up for a few coppers to help with her business.

Petr looked around his mother's scrawny frame and tattered dress to the door behind her. He could see dark spatters all over, their dull reddish brown color seemed to suck what little light there was in the room into them. The smell of iron filled the air as well as other smells even less familiar and somehow more ominous. He stopped whining. What was outside could be no worse than what was in here. He hadn't seen in the room but the smell was like nothing he had ever encountered and somehow it made him afraid.

With a quick nod, not in agreement but in resignation, Petr turned and ran down the steps into the night. The alley was deserted at this time of night but the darkness made it hard to avoid all the junk scattered everywhere. This was as much a trash dump as a residential alley. It used to be that people who couldn't afford the rent of the nearby buildings would make temporary squats among the trash. No longer however. The troubles had ensured everyone who could stay in did, and those that couldn't chose to squat in other more well lit areas, despite the police presence. In fact many opted for jail over being on the streets. Petr had to just do his best, run as fast as he could, and hope for the best to try and get to the doctor. She was one of the few who would actually work in the slums here, and the closest. He took to his heels to find her.

NOTES FOR REFERENCE:
Group A—Isabeau. Adam, Lily
Group B--Rabid Bear in the Woods. Johanna, Wes
Group C--Missing Men. Aleksandra, Lucie
Group D--transit. Martha

(Due to a slip-up on my part, there was a mistake and I posted before I should have. Apologies to all. This post will be replaced with actual content.)

Lucie stood up, brushing off her knees as she did. There was still an inkling of annoyance marring her features, but it was little compared to the determination that was starting to set in. If someone had managed to get those three guys from under the underworld's king's noses, then it was someone good. She hadn't known the three men who had been kidnapped, but she knew that no one ever got to work under Philip without being skilled in one thing or another.

She turned around to face Aleksandra, and was about to speak when she saw something at the sewer entrance behind Aleksandra. The shadows weren't right. There was something blocking the light more than if there was nothing, making them darker than they should be. Her eyes narrowed, and a very faint outline of a person became visible to her. She flicked her eyes back to Aleksandra, having not moved her head to see for fear of letting whoever was there know she'd seen them. "Someone's watching us," she said quietly, speaking loud enough that her voice could be heard near the sewer entrance, but not have the individual words—or even the language—be decipherable. "Don't turn around. You saw the sewer entrance we passed a little ways back on the street? Someone's hiding in the shadows there, and whoever it is they're good so we can assume it's not just a random kid, but someone with experience." She pursed her lips and scratched her chin, keeping one eye on whoever it was that was watching them. She didn't care look directly at him, to do so would be to alert him that she knew he was there.

"I want to know who it is," she continued after a short while. "It might very well be the one who's been kidnapping men. If you run after him, I'll circle around, take another sewer entrance, and cut him off. Okay?"

There wasn't time for a response, as a loud scream sounded, echoing of the buildings. It sounded like it was both human and inhuman at the same time, but even if Lucie had wanted to analyze it there wasn't time. Her head snapped towards the sewer as whoever it was had started to move, splashing through the sewer without a care.

"Go!" She told Aleksandra, turning herself to run down the adjacent alley. If she remembered the lay-out of this area correctly, there would be another sewer entrance that would let her cut in front of their would-be spy. If Aleksandra was quick enough—and she fully expected her to be—she'd be able to catch up to him quick enough that he, or whoever it was, would not be able to get away. Even as she ran, she scrunched up her nose. Going down into the sewers was never a pleasant experience, but sometimes it had to be done. She cast her mind towards the sewer system as a whole beneath them, 'asking' for any and all presences. It was vague, given the immense size of the area she covered, but she got an approximate position of their spy. He would be caught soon enough.

~~Group A~~~

Isabeau smiled her charming smile at Adam, slightly relieved that Adam's “companion” hadn't followed them in. She didn't worry that the girl would cause trouble; he staff were well trained. She had ensured it. Those that had showed too much inclination ended up assisting her in her research; that always did the trick. She would have to track her down afterwards though; couldn't have loose ends. She was a perfectionist after all.

“So” she said turning her full attention, and the subtle healing powers of her Talent, on Adam. “After my husband's untimely accident you can well imagine my mind was very uneasy. I missed him dreadfully you know, and kept thinking how things could have been done different. Lab work is so unpredictable at times but we were careful. I spent every night going over and over every step we took, every measurement, every chemical, every whisper of talent, anything that might have affected the outcome. I quite believe the servants feared for my life; I don't remember eating or sleeping during this time...only work. But as I worked, and reworked, everything we had done up to this point I had a breakthrough”

For a moment she seemed truly excited, her eyes lit with pure joy of it all.

“Actually it wasn't me, it was my husband. He was there you see, I looked up and he was there. Oh not a ghost or a spirit or anything like that. We know they exist, though they are usually rare. He was a corporeal body, alive, whole, healthy, and as perfect as he ever was. I was terrified at first; no power can bring the dead back to life. I wrote you that letter in a moment of fear and panic; but he stayed with me. Days, nights, I don't know how long, he dared not show himself to the superstitious servants after all. We talked little at first, but as I grew to realize it was truly him we talked more and more. It was then I realized the glorious truth. We had done it. Somehow in that moment of explosion, in that instant, we had done it. The Panacea. It could bring the dead back. It can heal anything. Adam, we succeeded!”

As Isabeau began to talk Adam let himself sink into his talent. It was growing stronger by the second, the maze of chaos gleaming in the darkness of his mind. Each turn outlined in glowing light. Pieces were falling into place exactly as they should. He had been spot on with regards to the lady, and her experiments. He knew he could put this information together with what he already knew in a puzzle so perfect that there would be no hanging questions. Everything was perfect; which is why it was a surprise to realize his mind had wandered off as Isabeau had been talking. He never lost focus like that.

That was his first inkling that something was truly off, not just with him but with his Talent, and it was not enough warning. The feeling that everything was going perfectly was overpowering, all was as it should be, everything was as he expected, and all was content. He was too far gone to fight it and as Isabeau calmed his talent she calmed him as well for he nearly always used it; he was extremely strong psychically, Talent tied to his physical being, and now it was his downfall as he drifted off to a healing sleep.

Of course what Isabeau had planned involved very little healing, at least not in the eyes of most. But she was quite mad by now, and in view her actions were the most natural thing in the world. She looked over the sleeping Adam with a satisfied smile; though something still bothered her about him. There was something just...off. He wasn't ill per se, just not well. His will had been strong; but in the deep subconscious it had sought healing; and that was what Isabeau provided. A chance to rest and heal.

She rose and rang for her butler. The man was well trained and terrified of her to boot. He would comply with her wishes without hesitation. She gave the orders and swept regally off down a corridor, her butler trailing behind carrying the deeply sleeping Adam.

The news that the girl had wandered off was somewhat alarming; but she would be dealt with in time. Or perhaps she would let her husband have the girl; husband he may be but his appetites were on the verge of too disturbing even for her. She hoped to fix that little peculiarity now though; with Adam's help.

***

Ren had taken up a place in the kitchens to converse with the other household servants. That was the usual procedure when nobility visited one another. And the servants always knew more than their master's wished them to know. Unfortunately the Lady's house was not typical. Oh the servants chatted politely; but Ren could feel the unease and he dared not probe far. The help was afraid; of that much he was certain. It was the kind of cold mute fear that servants working for abusive master's had. He'd met a few but fortunately, or unfortunately in this case, he had never been in such a situation himself and didn't know how to connect to these folk to get them to share the stories behind the household.

When he realized he would not be much help here he rose and quietly, but decisively, walked out into the halls. Someone should have stopped him. No one did. He quickly felt for the pistol that was in his pocket. His master disliked such things but Ren saw no harm in the edge a firearm often gave. It's greatest advantage however was in striking fear, and this household was already in a fear thrall, which meant he had better be prepared to use the thing if he needed to.

The halls were empty as he walked towards the entrance of the house, and it made him edgy. Something should have been going on somewhere, but it was like people were too afraid to be seen. Perhaps that accounted for the subtle lack of care that was evident in all the fixtures and furnishings. And it made him more edgy. He needed to find Adam and Lily and they could get themselves out of there in short order.

***


~~Group B~~

The gloom of the foggy night made the old building much more difficult to make out; and the strange metalwork items scattered around the old building took on the air of torture implements rather than ironwork tools.

The sounds coming from inside grew and became unmistakably vicious.
clyp.it/q1sxfseu

The sounds were followed by some low metallic clattering, like something was knocking stuff about inside, then the culprit, amidst a flurry of snarls burst from the dark opening in the building that must have been an open door.

Though the darkness made the shape hard to discern it was broad and squat, very low to the ground. It was also charging in a waddle-run at the horses making hideous growling noises. A second squat form bared out of the building right behind it and both raced at the pair on horseback.

The unmistakable whiff of mammal long dead mixed with the musty scent of badger preceded the running pair. The horses shied and nearly slammed into one another as they tried to get away from the charging badgers. For their part the badgers paid them no mind, the first one clearly trying to get away from the second so it could devour it's prize in peace.

As the animals passed by Johanna and Wes the mostly rotted remains of a human arm and hand could be clearly seen in the mouth of the first badger.

The strange noises faded into the forest along with the badgers letting the strange silence of the forest descend on the clearing. The dampness of the fog carried with it the smell of death, still weaving through the clearing despite the badgers departure with the rotting hand. It was plain there was more in the building that the animals did not run off with.

NOTES FOR REFERENCE:
Group A—Adam, Lily
Group B--Rabid Bear in the Woods. Johanna, Wes
Group C--Missing Men. Aleksandra, Lucie

"So you think your Lady is mad do you?" Lillian asked pointedly to a rather short and pudgy young maid she'd managed to force into answering some questions.

"No. Not at all. I simply meant that she may have been seeing a ghost is all." The maid responded quickly and nervously.

"You also mentioned you don't believe in ghosts. Ergo you think the Lady is mad." Lillian quipped back in response. She didn't actually care if this maid thought Isabeau was mad or not but people tended to give up more information than they wanted when they became flustered. The maid made to leave but Lilian quickly stepped in front of her to block her path. This is the fifth time since the start of the conversation this has happened. "Final question."

The maid looked around nervously. "Y-yes? What is it?"

"When you clean the lab is it a fairly daunting task?"

The maid seemed confused by the question but was relieved Lillian was no longer trying to find out about Isabeau. "A bit, yes. Lots of delicate equipment."

"How does the staff handle ceilings?"

"We don't really. They're far too high."

"Thank you." with that Lillian turned on a heel and walked away, leaving the maid more confused but relieved to be left alone.

Lilian had spoken to some members of the serving staff, the ones she could find, and after tricking them into giving up more than they wanted was able to conclude that the staff had not seen the supposed returned husband and were quite concerned for Isabeau. Concerned, and very much afraid of her. Sadly that was all she was able to dig up on the subject as the staff was rather tight lipped, and although she could tease some information out, certain topics seemed to set off alarms in the people she was questioning. Ask the wrong question and they would simply refuse to answer.

Her line of questioning with the last maid did however provide her with some useful information, even if the chubby servant didn't realize it. There was only one area in the house that could contain a room with high ceilings. Opening her note book to the pages she used to draw a map of the house Lillian made a note inside a large unmarked room on the second floor.

LAB

With that she snapped the book closed with a satisfied smile. She had finally made some headway in this case. With the staff doing their best to hide away at all costs she would be able to break into the lab and look around. No doubt in her mind that the lab would contain some important pieces of information.

A near bye grandfather clock rang loudly, marking the hour. Retrieving one of the pocket watches she keeps around her neck and clicking it open Lillian checked the time. It had been an hour since she left Adam and Isabeau alone. Before searching the lab it would be a good idea to check up on them first.

Lillian moved at a quickened pace, her heels clicking loudly on the marble tiles and her various pouches ringing like bells as the objects within clanked against one another echoed through the empty halls. In short time she was back at the sitting room were she left the pair only to find them both gone. Pressing a hand against the cushions of the chairs they had been sitting in revealed them to be room temperature which meant the chairs previous occupants had been gone some time.

"Dammit!" Lillian cursed out loud. Perhaps leaving the two alone had not been the wisest choice. Especially considering how little information she had managed to dig up. In a flurry Lillian flew out of the room and quickly made her way through the house once more, the whole time she held her wrist at eye level so she could see the needle Adam had given her as she walked. The needle remained unchanged through the entire trek of the house which meant Adam was not close and no longer within the manor.

Breaking into a full run at this point Lillian made her way to the front of the house and threw the front door open. The drive way leading up to the house was empty, the carriage they had arrived in was gone. There was a brief moment where Lillian wondered if Adam had simply left without her - it would not be the first time something like this had happened to her- but the thought was quickly dismissed as Adam was not one to do such a thing.

Bounding down the front steps she made her way to the stables and threw the doors open. The stables were fairly large with numerous stalls lining the walls, each with a horse. No carriage, and if Adam's horses were among the others Lilian couldn't tell. Just to make sure she wasn't missing anything Lillian walked to the back of the stables, keeping an eye out for doors that may lead elsewhere, or a place to stick a carriage. Nothing of the sort was found, and the only spot that could house a carriage was filled with Isabeau's. It was beginning to look like the best choice would be to leave and quickly make her way back to Ware Manor and gather other society members to come help. Of course she was on foot on the other side of the city and no one but Adam and Ren knew her whereabouts so it was unlikely anyone looking for her would find her. Not that anyone was ever looking for her. Even if she stole a horse and made it to the manor in quick time she had little information to go on and any force she gathered would be just as lost as her, and time would be wasted as everyone scrambled to think of what to do. With that Lillian decided it would be best to go after Adam and the Lady on her own, confident a single mad women was of little threat.

"First things first..." she mumbled under her breath. The first thing to do was determine if the carriage had even left the grounds. If it had than that limited the directions they could have gone. There were only a handful of streets in the area large enough to accommodate a full carriage, and direction could be narrowed down even more based on levels of traffic. It was unlikely that Isabeau would allow herself to be slowed.

Lillian soothed her mind and reestablished her calm and antithetical demure that had been temporarily disturbed by the panic of realizing Adam was gone. With her mind back to normal it only took a few seconds for her to notice the depressions in the hay on the floor of the stable. There were two long depressions most likely caused by the wheels of a carriage. As to be expected the depressions led directly to Isabeau's carriage, unexpectedly though was a second set of tracks that continued past the carriage and ended at a wall. Pulling on the hook of a lantern holder -an obvious spot for a secret door switch- caused part of the wall to slide away. On the other side was a small room in the middle of which sat Adam's carriage. A quick search of it revealed neither Adam nor Ren's body. Adam was most assuredly not on the grounds anymore, Ren however may still be. It was unlikely the Lady would risk bringing the man-servant along.

Returning inside Lilian began her search of the grounds once again, this time for Ren. Her search lasted only a brief few seconds as she spotted him walking down a hall towards her. She quickened her pace and met up with Ren who did not seem to be very pleased.

"We have a problem. Adam and Isabeau are gone. Off the grounds as far as I can tell. Both Adam's and her carriages are still in the stables. All the stalls are full so I am guessing she took two of hers and replaced them with your horses. Where ever she took Adam, she did so on horse back. My best guess is they're thirty minutes ahead of us, where ever they are. Staff knows more than they're letting. I narrowed down which room is Isabeau's lab, if we search it we may find a clue where she took Adam. Of course, that is only if you don't have a quicker means of getting information?"

Someone had kidnapped Adam Ware, Master of the Society, and (as far as Lilian was concerned) a personal friend. Lily was less than pleased about the whole afar and feeling very angry, an unfamiliar emotion for her to hold. Isabeau had a lot to answer for, and it had better be a damn good answer.

~~Group A~~

Adam remained unconscious as he was carried through the manor and Isabeau, with her butler's help, tied him on a spare horse. She didn't look back as she rode away, leading the horse with Adam's unconscious form. She didn't see the look on her butler's face as he watched her ride away.

He had been besotted with his Lady for so long; this was the last straw. He had seen how she looked at Adam, knew what fate awaited the man, but he had once hoped it would be his fate. That she would consider him worthy. He knew now it was not to be. And he knew what sort of trouble his mistress would be in now; he could smell power when he chose. Isabeau had it. So did Adam. He wasn't sure what would happen but he knew it wouldn't be good.

So he slipped into the servant's quarters, packed a bag, helped himself to a few valuable trinkets he knew the Lady would take a very long time to miss, and left.

Ren meanwhile was working to control the anger that seethed through him at Lily's words. He had come to value his relationship, professional and personal, with Adam greatly. That this bitch of a woman would dare to harm him angered him greatly but he worked hard to remain calm, as Adam would have done.

“I have less...acceptable...ways of getting information should it come to that” he said as evenly as he could. “Let us first examine this lab you found.” He stopped and looked back towards the room where the Lady and Adam had conversed.

“One moment Ms. Lily” he said and turned and swiftly went back to the room. He scanned around rapidly looking for anything that might give him a clue as to what had happened to Adam. His master was canney and clever, and was used to attempts on his life. He spotted nothing that might be a sign to him, or a warning. That meant that Adam had been caught unawares. He cursed, rather fluently, and turned. His eye caught the shine of metal at the side of a sofa and turned back. His master's sword and belt lay there, cast aside.

He grabbed it and looped it over his shoulder before returning to Lily.

“Adam will be wanting this” he said as he jerked his head slightly towards his shoulder, the weapon clearly seen hanging down his back. “Lets go get him.”

It was clear if he had known where the lab was he would have headed there without further hesitation; leaving Lily to stay or follow of her own choice. As it was he needed her to show him the way so he worked to conceal his impatience. His determination he didn't bother to hide. He would find Adam. There was no shaking his faith in this.

~~Group C~~

Filip raced into the tunnels, the darkness closing over him. Like most of the folk in his particular economic class he knew his way around the tunnels in the near dark that enveloped them. Only an occasional grating opened to the surface to let the faint light of the night down into these passages.

His steps splashed in the muck below and it squelched at his shoes but he ran on. He could hear footsteps behind him, and worse they were gaining on him. As the darkness closed he veered off with the tunnel as it split. He desperately hoped he could loose his pursuers; and he had an idea. Ahead there was a cave in, the old masonry had crumbled leaving just a spits worth of a hole to crawl through. In the dark. And the muck. He knew his way around there; he doubted the person chasing him would.

He turned to dart into the caved in passage, unaware that in the shadows ahead of him another had sped to catch him. The lad was trapped between the swiftly closing Aleksandra and the danger of Lucie, a danger he didn't see lurking in the shadows ahead of him. The obvious threat hides the insidious one.

NOTES FOR REFERENCE:
Group A—Adam, Lily
Group B--Rabid Bear in the Woods. Johanna, Wes
Group C--Missing Men. Aleksandra, Lucie

Whinnying in terror, Johanna’s horse rose up onto its hind legs at the sight of the stout beasts barreling out at break-neck speed from the mill, threatening to throw her off as she held fast to the leather reins, while Wesley’s horse reacted the same, his precarious position cost him, as he had clung to the saddle in mid-dismount, where he landed upon his back with a thud! Once the beasts that had been the source of the snarls dispersed from the area, and disappeared into the depths of the forest, Wes rose to his feet, dusting off the seat of his pants with a frown, and shot a glare at his horse who had trotted over to the safety of an overhanging tree-limb. With a swing of her leg, Johanna followed suit, and dismounted from her horse as well, as she led her horse over to the tree under which Wes’ sat, she gathered both reins in her hands, and tied a slipknot to the branches above, preventing them from escaping.

“Did happen to see what that beast had in its mouth, Mr. Craven?” Johanna asked.

“You mean the badger? Aye, before I was tossed, I saw something like that of a hand hanging from its jaws.”

“Yes, exactly. Let us investigate the mill, as I do not believe that the badgers are to blame, nor was that all of the remains.”

He forced a smile, almost on the verge to call it quits, but the thought of leaving Johanna defenseless in the woods would be ungentlemanly at best. “I thought you would say that. Let’s get a move on then while we still have the light of the moon, eh?”

After making their way across the clearing, the dampness of the fog filled the air with a heavy odor that smelled strongly of decay, Johanna pressed her ear upon the door, listening for anymore animals that may be lurking inside, once she heard nothing, she pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the creaking of the hinges. Since the roof was in a poor state, or a lack of one, so to speak, the moonlight filtered in through the openings, casting a clear, grey glow across the inside. Stepping across the dirt floor, Johanna smelt a more peculiar smell that prompted her to cover her nose with the sleeve of her dress. The air was thick with the smell of iron, or in this case, blood, as she soon came to notice that even though the mill appeared empty, there were numerous, half-eaten corpses and other mangled body parts that littered the floor. She spotted one such corpse, or rather, the lower half of a man, poking out from under a table.
“Well that’s just unsightly, now.” Wes winced, covering his nose as well.

“Where is the other half, I wonder?” Johanna said, more to herself than to Wes.

“Over here.” He strode away from her to another table coated in inches of dust. Lying casually, without a care in the world, was the other half, or at least what was left of it, on the other side of a fire pit, where a grill-cover served as a place where the inhabitant used it to cook whatever food they ate.

When she joined him on the other side of the grill, Johanna noted the crude cuts in the body with a raise of her lantern, whoever or whomever performed the surgeries, or dismemberments, were unskilled. The flesh had turned the color of dark brown, far long past the early stages of decomposition. “Look, there’s another.” Wes pointed out, though this body, was not much of a body, for there only remained an arm, and a leg, with the feet and hand chopped away. This continued on for several minutes as Johanna and Wes searched the interior of the mill for the entirety of the corpses. Altogether, they counted six different bodies, or what was left of them in that case, and all of them were male. Johanna discerned that from the non-delicate bone structure that differed when compared to her own, or when held next to Wes. What she found particularly disturbing was the amount of blood stained upon the floor, or upon the little furniture present in the room. More importantly, she noted a pile of blankets in the far corner of the room, also stained with blood. As she inspected the blankets, it became apparent that the blankets formed a nest, suggesting that whoever, or whom, that lived here, was perhaps not quite human as she had hoped. Curiously, despite the significant quantity of gore and blood, as the moon transitioned slightly higher across the night sky, a beam of moonlight illuminated a rocking chair, though rather old, it showed no signs of rust, and beside it stood an end table filled with half-lit candles, where pools of white wax gathered around the bases.

“From the state of decay in the corpses, Mr. Craven, and I hate to even utter these next few words I am about to bring myself to speak, it would seem… that our culprit, has learned how to dismember the victims with more skill. As you can see, with our first victim, over here,” Johanna returned to the first victim they discovered, she knelt alongside it, pointing to the rough edges where the flesh had separated from the body, “the cuts are rough, as if unskilled, or uncertain on how to wield whatever instrument they used. Yet, over here,” she ventured to the next victim, not as far along in the stages of decomposition, which were a set of limbs, and a discarded torso, “the cuts become smoother, more precise, if you will. The only factor that continues to puzzle me, is out of this entire room, I do not see any surgical tools, nor a table upon which the dismemberment is performed. I find it highly unlikely that our culprit is performing these procedures here on the floor.”

“You would think so, by the amount of blood, and gore. So to speak, if I knew any better Johanna, I would say that our culprit, as you say, is engaging in cannibalism. There are pieces of uneaten tissue everywhere.”

“Yes, even on the blankets, where it sleeps.” She pointed out, just then, she caught sight of a closed door. “Mr. Craven, over there.” With haste, Johanna rushed to the door, though not before Wesley beat her to it.

“Allow me.” He said with a broad smile, very American of him, if she could say.

With a swing of the door, the room revealed to be just what they had pondered about seconds before. Inside the room, a surgical table stood, where darkened pools of dried blood coated the floor, evident that there was no drain to dispose of the bodily fluids. “How remarkable.” She commented as she bustled inside, enthused that the perpetrator indeed, possessed a surgical table, answering her earlier questions about where the dismemberments were conducted. Immediately, one detail became clear to her, as she surveyed the room. There was a lack of surgical tools, implements and other supplies. Even in here, there were remnants of humans remains, a head, several limbs such as arms and legs, she even found a pinky finger strewn about the floor.

“Mr. Craven, would you agree with me, that our culprit, our perpetrator, whoever they may be, is indeed teaching themselves the skill of surgery? And, that the perpetrator behind the removal of the hearts, and now the liver, indeed, does live here?”

“That I would, that I would.” Wes nodded in agreement, kicking a cut-off foot across the floor.

“Then, we shall leave for now, and come back when the time is right. It is clear that whoever this offender is, is not at home, and it would be best for us to return to the manor with our findings, and present them to Master Ware.” Johanna took one long look at the room before vacating the premises and making her way back to their mounts.