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“I see you are back in one piece. I take it you did not encounter any problems, particularly of the undead kind,” Leon stated as Fyror approached him. Despite his brother’s attempt at trying to make light of the situation, Fyror could see the barely concealed concern etched on his face.

“Fortunately, we did not run across any more Soulless. How are our mother and sister? You did not run across anymore trouble, did you?” Fyror asked, quick to inquire about his family’s safety. Truth be told, they had never completely left his thoughts since the moment he had parted ways with them.

“They are a bit unsettled, but that is understandable given the situation. They will be relieved to see that you are back safe and sound,” Leon replied as he and his brother made their way into the inn. They continued to speak as they walked up the stairs to the floor their family was staying on. “I immediately went to them when you left. I stayed with them for a while before taking up position in front of the inn. Fyror, the body of the Cargast victim was no longer in Hyde Park. Someone must have taken it while I was inside.”

“Coincidentally, while we made a quick stop at the Wyndham’s, Ms. Crane and I saw the man who took the body. Ms. Crane was warning Ms. Wyndham, and another woman named Virginia, about the Cargast attack when the man just showed up with the dead body held in his arms. He is lucky he did not give the women a huge fright. The man said he was taking the body to a nearby church before he quickly left.”

Their voices echoed off the walls around them as they swiftly ascended the stairs up to their floor. No sooner had they entered their family’s quarters did Mrs. Kildragon fling herself in Fyror’s direction and take him in a tight embrace. “We were worried sick about you,” her muffled voice sounded in his ear. He felt a pang of guilt for leaving his family in the way that he had.

“Forgive me, for that was not my intention to worry you so. I just could not bear to let Ms. Crane travel alone. Had Leon not been here to watch over you I would not have been so quick to leave you,” he explained apologetically. His mother pulled away slightly and tenderly caressed her son’s face.

“I know. You do not need to explain yourself. I am just glad that you are safe,” she reassured him.

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Virginia tilted her head for a moment, her mind running through a certain phrase of Millicent's. She became lost in her own world for a moment, entirely unaware as her dear friend sealed the letters with wax and instructed the butler to dispatch them. For Millicent had mentioned a dream that had unsettled her, that had shaken her friend's firm grasp on time and reality. It was most curious, Virginia recalled, that she too had had a similar nightmare of horrific qualities. It was a terror not even a Crypt could enjoy.

"A dream, Millicent?" Virginia inquired. Mosi had confirmed that she had dreamt similar terrors the previous evening. If the same had befallen Millicent, Virginia then concluded that these were not just omens, but perhaps truth. "How curious. Mosi and I had the same terrible nightmares last evening," Virginia murmured, her eyes having a distant quality to them as she pondered the strange issue.

"Yes, perhaps it would be best to be present at Almack's tonight," Virginia then muttered, a slight frown on her face. "If Elizabeth will not relent, then it must be so. It would be a shame to miss such an extravagant display of horrors as well...Perhaps they will capture portraits of it."

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Mary stood in the hallway, politely listening to what her new acquaintance had to say. At first, it seemed ludicrous. If there were more kinds of Soulless out there preying on Humanity, then she lokely would have already heard of this - the Vatican would have heard of this. She would have recieved training to combat a new threat. But she had not. Yet, Mary could read no dishonesty on the woman's face. The more she spoke, the more rational her claims seemed.

"Yes, I agree. We should discuss this somewhere with more privacy. My personal rooms are this way." informed the young Apostolic, motioning back the way they had come. "Before anything else, Lady Romanova, is the boy in further peril? And is he a danger to others?" Her voice, once sweetness and hospitality, became strained with a more militant, objective tone. Not a full change in priority, but a definitive calling of attention to duty.

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Sure enough after they dropped off Fyror at the inn housing his family, the situation continued rather calm afterwards too. The couch traveled without hindrance and in post haste they had reached Mosi's current home. She stepped out of the couch and bid the driver farewell as found herself in front of her family's home. As usual people would comment quietly on her attire and general disregard for accepted norms, but also as usual she didn't paid them any heed. With very small smile and partially pondering expression she walked through the doors and entered the building.

“Jeanette, where have you been!?” Clarice's voice rang loudly through the entrance way the moment the front door was closed as to not be heard outside. It was Mosi's mother who as usual was up to her neck in thinking up ways to limit her daughter's exposure to the society outside, but never really finding a proper answer to her 'problem'. Still it was true that Mosi had taken quite a bit more time with her morning walk so there was also room for concern in her voice. She didn't really know if this was the case though.” You've been gone for so much longer than usual! Where have you been!? There have been talks about soulless on the street!” She demanded answers as Mosi took off the coat to her suit.

“Nowhere special, just my morning walk through the park...” Mosi started, her mother clearly showing signs of not feeling well at the mention.” I did receive this though...” She added and pulled the invitation to the Almack's, handing it over to Clarice. Her mother took and opened it before showing quite the amazed expression actually.” And then there was an attack of a Cargast on a woman in the park nearby my walk route.” Jeanette added with a pondering nod.” I plan to attend the event... They requested my expertise with presence guards so I will have to be there ear...” She was then suddenly interrupted.

“Of course you will attend! Me and your sisters will do so too. Sadly your father and brother found themselves with matters to attend elsewhere.” Clarice's statement came to a little bit of surprise to Jeanette as the other woman seemed to completely forget there was a soulless somewhere out there and her daughter's close encounter with one. She half expected her mother to try and tie her up in her room to safe the family some face, but it seemed that was not the case... or her mother had something else planned.” You will attend, but I will not allow you to leave the house today in that... attire.” She said the last word with such disdain it was uncanny.

Now Mosi knew what her mother had planned. She was going to be forced to wear... a dress after all. She so hated this, she'd be so fine with a buffalo robe, but her mother did indeed lock those in a chest and then the chest in a store room.” Clari... ahmm mother, I do not think your presence along with Brigitte and Beatrice is not a good idea. I have a bad feeling about tonight, it may be safer to stay in the safety of the presence guards here that I know are in good state...” Mosi started, but Clarice basically didn't hear her or pretended not to at least.

“Alright, let's get you prepared for the event and I'm not going to allow you to escape this!” Following that outburst of rather surprisingly scary motivation on her mother's part, Mosi noticed some of the servants come. It was time for a bath and a long dress up.

"Alright, but this time's an exception because I have no time to argue." Mosi finally stated. She didn't want to put on one of those dresses other women seemed to like so much, but the situation was pressing her for time and maybe there was an upside. She had no idea what this upside was, but she'd think of something... eventually.

"Yes, the more horrid of dreams I dare say. One in which left me wondering if there was something more vile at play," Millicent told her dear friend. Resting on the couch she rose and began to pace the room now that the letters had been taken care of. She proceeded to tell Virginia of the dream the night before in all it's detail.

"I must admit that I thought it was only a dream but with the attack on that poor woman, I wonder if it were perchance something more. You said you had a dream as well? This seems to be more than just mere coincidence. The attack, the dreams. Perchance do you think others could have had such as well? Yes, we must attend tonight if they continue with the event. Dangerous as it may be we do need answers. If more attacks happen I would like to be as informed as humanly possible," she said as she peered out the window to see if Gerard had returned as of yet.

She knew it would take time but she worried about him nonetheless. He was more than just a stable hand to her, despite the fact her step mother constantly berated him. She spotted the hakney that had taken the other two earlier from her home but it was empty now and looking for new fairs. It looked in the same shape it had been when it left, so that put her mind at some ease. Hopefully they were safe. The letter that was sent to Mosi would arrive at her home any minute, their messenger was swift on horse back and did not drag his feet. He knew each back alleyway and how to push for speed and haste. If only all others could move through the city so readily.



"No, the child is safe. Your skills severed any hold that was over him and I placed a blessing on him as vell. He should recover post haste. The child has talents he has yet to see, I vould recommend the church take the child under their ving and guide him from here if they may. Gods blessing is strong with him and he is still young enough to be trained. He vould be an asset to our vorld and it vould improve his current." Her voice was kind but firm as she spoke and there was no indication of falseness within it. Elizaveta was not one who had ever earned the art of lying like so many in her position. She was diplomatic of course but she was honest, to a fault even.

"Please, show me where we can speak freely," she asked of Mary and waited patiently to be shown to a private area behind doors to speak more freely. There was much she wished to tell the woman but even in the halls of a church she did not feel safe enough to speak freely as she needed. There was more to this woman than she was letting on and more knowledge in her than she cared to have right then but she had a purpose and it would come out eventually. When the time was right and the correct precautions had been taken.

Downstairs the Bishop looked at the woman and then man before nodding. "Yes, yes, come inside," he said. Ordering the gate open and escorting the man to enter. He puled aside one of the nuns and sent her to retrieve Lady Mary quickly and to have her meet them in the under ground sanctuary. Her skills were needed right then. "Come with me please," he said as he lead Gerard through the open courtyard towards an iron wroght gate. "Please, can you carry the woman or do you need assistance?"

Gerard followed the bishop as he gestured him inside the gates. The bishop escorted him inside where a number of nuns and some clergymen go about their business. Their ever so curious and worried stare never really left the irishman's tail. He had got so many of those in just half a day it almost seemed less bothering to him. Though it was probably something more than he expected in just one day. Regardless, he's here, and the church finally has someone who knows how to deal with the soulless. It was a weight off his shoulders. This had been quite a journey indeed. Unless there is nothing else for him here, he will eventually return home where he is most likely needed, as he didn't want the roses back in the estate be left unattended. He would not trust anyone else with it. And it would be unfeeling to be away from his responsibilities this long, Millie probably worries where he had gone.

As they passed through the courtyard the bishop asked one of the nuns to fetch their soulless expert. As he was led to the iron gates, the clergyman asked if he needed any help on carrying the body "l got it." The body had almost felt weightless to him at this point.

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Virginia stood as her dear friend described her harrowing nightmare. She knew very well of her friend's darkest fear, the horrendous death that consumption can bring on. It struck her as curious initially that Millicent's nightmare had little to do with the Soulless threat, but thinking back to her own vision, it made all the more sense. Perhaps something that fed off of fear was lurking in the shadows of London. The thought was as horrifying as it was exhilarating. Yet it was problematic as to the safety and wellbeing of her dear friend.

"Yes, it would appear to be necessary to attend the event," Virginia mused, reflecting on the dream that Millicent had recounted to her. "Perhaps it would also be wise to contact someone trained in dreams, if such a person is present in London."

If dreams posed more of a meaning, Virginia expected that the advice of an expert would be a welcome asset. There was little luck in fighting forces that they did not understand, a primary lesson as to why the Brits delegated certain tasks to those of certain skill sets. If they were to avoid a travesty similar to that of Flitwick Manor, preparation would be key. The Soulless appeared to be returning to a strength they had not known in ages, Virginia observed. It was most bizarre and unexpected.

"While the words are prone to overuse, my dear friend, I do believe a storm is coming," Virginia mused. "And we must be ready when it does."

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After being sufficiently fussed over, Fyror sought out the solitude of his room while his mother and sister got ready for the event at Almack’s tonight. He was uncertain of the validity of going to the event considering the heightened threat that Soulless now pose; however, the protective soldier within him wanted to be there perchance things did go awry. He also wanted to protect his family. He hated these conflicting feelings as they were distorting his good judgment.

He let out a sigh as he entered his room with his brother in tow. “I do not think I have much more information to offer you, Leon. I told you all but what you already know,” Fyror stated. He took off his belt and sword and tossed it onto the bed before rummaging through his stuff to find the sword sharpener.

“You have told me the facts, but you have not told me your thoughts. What is your gut telling you?” Leon inquired. His tone held a note of gravity in it that caused Fyror to pause what he was doing and meet his brother’s gaze. Leon’s expression was serious, and Fyror noted the tension in his brother’s demeanor. His brother knew full well that today’s Cargast attack was a bad sign after years of relative peace in London.

“I think our problems with the Soulless have only just begun. Things are going to get a lot worse before it gets any better,” Fyror replied gravely.

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“Damn you...careful with the hair... STOP IT.. ouch... that hurts!! I will gauge your eyes out if you don't stop!” Mosi was half shouting, half trying to pull away from the rather strong hands of the servants that her mother had ordered to help prepare her for the tonight's event. Naturally the main thing her mother wanted was to have Jeanette take a good bath and bring her into proper looks. Sadly for her, that included her not having the feathers in her hair. Thus the servants were pretty much pulling those away with force almost as if they were plucking a chicken.

Finally after a long time of struggles, curses, swears and many torn sleeves on the servant's part, Mosi was brought into proper looks. Her previously neatly woven with black feathers hair was now freely clinging to her wet skin as the servants were now more busy with brushing it to make it straight again.” Good thing you cannot remove my tattoos no matter how much you scrub my back... OUCH!! I SWEAR IF YOU USE THAT SCRATCHY SPONGE WITH SUCH FORCE ONE MORE TIME, I WILL LEAVE YOU WITH BALD HEAD!” Finally Mosi couldn't take it anymore as she shouted at one of the servants, grabbing the tool from her hands and throwing it at the wall.” I'm clean already! Bring the towel!” The woman snapped as her mother showed by the doorway for what she assumed was an inspection. After an approving nod, the servants brought the towel to help Mosi dry up.

This all was the type of situation and way of acting that she disliked the most. The whole business with servants moving about the place, doing things she could do herself, basically treat her as an object and so forth. If it wasn't for the event tonight and the fact she didn't have the time to get there on foot at all, she wouldn't stand for this.

It wasn't long before they were forcing Mosi into one of those dresses she despised so much. Now if the bath was terrible this was an out right nightmare! Still the preparations for the departure for Almack's was progressing when Clarice showed up on the door of her room again. Mosi grunted something in annoyance as her mother entered.” A letter arrived for you.” Clarice stated and handed the envelope over to Mosi as one of the servants was tightening the dress just a tad too much to the point it hindered Jeanette's ability to breath properly.

She didn't reply and instead just took the letter, noticing from who it was. Without losing any time she opened it. Reading it took some more time as she wasn't exactly too great at it, but sure enough slowly she did it.” This is...problematic...” She stated and threw a look at her mother.” There is a chance for something bad to happen tonight...” Mosi started before she pulled herself away from the servants before they can strangle her to death with the very dress she was now wearing. Hey she found a good thing about the dress, it didn't hinder her axe holders.

“You will not be bringing those... things with you tonight!” Clarice stated as she saw Mosi putting the leather axe sheaths on herself. The older woman even walked over to try to pull the weapons away, before Jeanette swiped across the other's hand with the tip of her fingers.

“Don't you dare... Read the letter...” She finally stated with angry voice.” William's home already, right?” Mosi then asked as she started heading towards her father's study.” He will see the benefit in being prepared and armed.”

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The confirmation that the child was indeed safe took away some of the strain in Mary's voice. She studied Elizaveta's face, looking for a trace that she may have been withholding anything pertinent about the boy's immediate future. "It is a gift, Lady Romanova, to be able to discern this about the child. Considering the reaction from the crowd, I had given consideration to just that possibility with the boy; an upbringing with the Church. Of course, the recent ambience here makes me think he would be better off serving as my Page, under the protection of my Order."

Thinking over any logical options with the boy, none of them involved him going back outside of the walls of the Ely Palace for at least three days. Just because she was positive about the boy's status among the Soulled, others most assuredly were not. For his continued protection, he must remain a guest of the Church. But, Mary could give it as much thought as she liked and it still wouldn't take the place of a direct conversation with Elizaveta concerning her insight. "If it please you, my Lady, right this way."

She lead her new acquaintance and accompanying guards back up the hallway and into the pale light of the exposed walkway surrounding the quadrangle. She turned into a stairwell and began to climb the spiral staircase, lightly beckoning to her guests. About halfway up she stopped, pausing mid-step as an odd (and potentially horrifying) thought occurred to her. "You said the child has potential - talents he has yet to see. Is it possible this is why he was attacked?"

Mary could think of no history, no tale involving the Soulless wherein they could detect and target those possessing the potential to become a threat to them. Learning that their world, one in which she was supposed to be expert and champion of humanity, was broader than her knowledge, she was willing to give many hypotheses consideration. Perhaps the Ryne-that-was-not-Ryne originally was like Elizaveta, and held onto some portion its abilities after transformation. But these were possibilities to consider aloud in greater detail after they got behind closed doors.

The group continued to the next floor inside the castle-like complex, with Mary leading them back down the corridor she had shown them earlier, when she assumed the boy was given boarding near her own door. She ushered her guest inside, giving nod to the soldiery following them (whom she assumed would take position at the door, as earlier), and entered herself. After shutting the door behind her, Mary informed, "This is as much privacy as I can provide, Lady Romanova. Please make yourself comfortable."

"I know not of any," Millicent said in a disparaging voice. Sighing she heard her step mother barking orders again to everyone in ear shot. Shaking her head she turned to her friend and forced a smile. "Perhaps you should return home to prepare. I shall meet you outside of Almack's one hour before the event this evening ready as I can be for any possible attack, though I do not know how ready I will be to dance," she said trying to make light of the situation.

Opening the door to her fathers study she escorted her friend out of the room and down the hall to the front door, biding her farewell. Leaving the door open she instructed her butler to flag down the hackney that took the two to the church that was close by for information about Miss Mosi and Sir Killdragon. She wished to inquire if they were alright. Though she truly did not know either well she worried about their well being. Turning she headed upstairs to prepare.

Over at the inn, the gossip was running amok in the dinning area, people trading horror stories but most that were leaving their lips were nothing but exaggerated lies. Wanting people to pity them for things they had not lived through. Such things lead to a general feeling of panic because for people with little, a story was more valuable to than most anything. It took their minds off the truth of their reality and gave them something else to focus on.



Elizaveta remained quiet during the exchange of words and the walk to the Sisters quarters. Her face blank as she walked, her fingers gently holding the folds of her gown as she made her way with Mary to a private location. She knew the woman would have to have answers and she could provide at least some of those but out in the open was probably not the best location as far as she was concerned. Even within the walls of Holy ground, people still lived and people were fallible. They could over hear a part of something and take it the wrong way, gossip would spread and mass panic could ensue. That was the last thing she wished.

As they made their way behind closed doors Elizaveta did not sit, simply standing there as the door was closed with her guards posted on the other side to keep an eye out. "This is perfectly respectable Sister, to answer your earlier question I do not guess that he was targeted because he possesses skill. I know he was."

Sighing she pushed her gown back slightly and laced her fingers together, letting them fall and rest against the front of her waist. "I feel I need to explain... Let me begin..." she said as she stood there before taking a moment to expand on things. She told Sister Mary that she was there on direct order from her church, another could have been sent but due to her title she took the role on personally. She went onto to tell the Sister of some of the skills of her lands. An innate ability that could be honed to detect the linger presence of a future soulless if they had been attacked, a clarity to see within the hearts of another to see if any skills or blessings resided in the person, two skills that were not taught in any other land and had not yet been revealed to the Council of Training as of yet.

"I am here as a Representative of my country to meet with the Council in three days time. We have more we can teach the world, skills that need to be learned. We tried at the last meeting but were shot down. I am hoping for a different outcome this time. Our skills are unique in many ways. They differ in two major areas. One, they are ones no one has access to yet. Two, and the greater difference, is the fact they do not all require a decade of training and can be taught to those who have gone under training in other lands. They can compliment others, they are not a stand alone life."

Elizaveta took a moment of time to let what she had told Sister Mary to sink in. Lifting her chin slightly a small smile came to her lips. "This will have to wait for further discussion. You are needed," she said in a rather frank voice. Two seconds passed and there was a knock at the Sisters door.

"Sister Mary, there was another attack. A young Lady. The bishop needs you urgently in the catacombs," the nun called through the door.

Below the Bishop led Gerard down into the catacombs and over to a marble slab to where he motioned for the man to set the girl down on. "Now, please tell me just what occurred, every detail. The sister will be along shortly," the Bishop said as he took a torch from the wall and lit a few candles that were laying around to bring better light to the subterranean room.

*Council Of Training - A group of the highest of each land that meet to discuss the needs of various training locations, if new skills have been discovered, and how training has changed. They meet every five years in London.

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Virginia frowned ever so slightly. It seemed incredibly shortsighted to her that no one would be able to glimpse the meanings of dreams. There were such wonderful and mysterious talents that could be learned--surely there must be one to aid in this situation? Those dreams were some terrible prophecies, Virginia was quite sure of it. She fell so wrapped in her own thoughts that she barely nodded in confirmation at Millicent as to their rendez-vous an hour prior to Almack's.

And by the time that Virginia found herself once again, she was in the carriage headed back to the townhouse. She frowned again, picking at her strands of hair. She glanced out the windows of the carriage, attempting to recall how she had left the Wyndham Estate--ah, yes, Millicent had escorted her outside of the estate. It would be troubling to some to become so lost in thought, but it was relatively common for Virginia. It was a dreamy absence that she had in common with her dear mother.

"To the townhouse, please," Virginia instructed her driver. Word of the day's events had already been sent on to Alfred, and Virginia knew that her butler likely would already have some proper attire assembled for her. She crinkled her nose, the way an ordinary person would at the thought of death and poison and treachery, when she thought of the events of the Season and their etiquette. The Crypts never did quite enjoy those social events.

She shuddered for a moment, recalling a distant friend of the family. The woman, Deborah, would wear the brightest pink and cling to any man of significant fortune that she could find. She had left such a distaste in the mouth of the Crypt family, that Debbie.

Gerard was brought below to a cold, dark lit room which looked like the church's catacombs, and lay the body on the marble the bishop motioned to him. He sat by the edge of the marble, wiping the sweat with his sleeves. The room was cold and desolate, like death itself, he wondered. The idea of death sounded so lonely, he couldnt imagine how an eternity of nothingness or blackness would be like. That is, since the soulless happened, he now doubts. Though thoughtless it may sound, knowing that somehow gave him a pinch of hope. For his late brothers, that part of them might still be lingering in this world, alone, lost. He wanted to know if they had forgiven him. If Marianne had forgiven him.

His pondering was cut off by the clergyman's inquiry regarding the woman as he lit the candles, faintly illuminating the room. "Well," Gerard started off " I was working, at the garden when there was a distressed cry coming from the park. Hyde Park," he said, adjusting the roll of his sleeve. "I didnt actually saw the whole happening, but we wen't to find out as soon as we did. It was until then we saw the body lying in the middle of the park. All life drained off of her. There was a Cargast drifting off the scene not far from us. "

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Fyror let his words to Leon sink in while he went back to rummaging through his stuff for his sword sharpener. It did not take him long to find it, and as soon as he had, he went back over to the bed to where he had laid his belt and sword. He unsheathed his katana from its scabbard and sat down on the edge bed before setting to work sharpening the sword. The otherwise quiet room was filled with the sound of the metal sword sliding across the sharpener. The sound combined with the repetitive movement of his hand was almost therapeutic to him. He could be left alone to his thoughts and yet all the while still accomplish a necessary task. However, the true irony was that though he enjoyed the act of sharpening his sword he loathed using it on people, for he knew firsthand the devastation and pain such a weapon could bring. In the end, with great power comes great responsibility.

After several minutes of relative silence, Leon cleared his throat, garnering Fyror’s attention. “So, what is your lady friend like?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Fyror let out a small sigh as he rolled his eyes at his brother. Perhaps Leon had yet to completely outgrow his childishness. Nonetheless, Fyror stopped what he was doing to answer his brother’s “question.”

“Ms. Crane is different,” he replied.

“Well, that’s obvious! She dresses like a man and wears feathers in her hair!” Leon laughed.

“That is not what I meant,” Fyror snapped. His intense glare and tone of voice quickly shut up Leon. Fyror’s gaze lessened in intensity once he was assured his brother would not make another insensitive comment. “What I meant was that Ms. Crane is not like any other woman I have met. She is kind, intelligent, and independent. She doesn’t let others’ opinions bother her or define who she is and how she lives her life. I find those qualities quite admirable. Her choice of attire does not give people an excuse to treat her as anything less than lady, just as my appearance should not give people a reason to slight me. For once, I have met a woman who does not view me as being inferior.”

Leon looked like he was at a loss for words or perhaps he was just being more cautious with what he said after Fyror’s outburst. Before either could speak, they heard knock at the door to the floor his family was staying on. Fyror quickly got up, put his belt and sword back on, and went to answer the door. His mother and sister came out of their rooms just as he answered the door. He opened the door to find an inn worker standing there. “Sir Kildragon, a Colonel Theodore and fellow officers from Colchester Garrison have arrived,” the man stated. Finally, father has arrived. He is not going to be happy when he hears what I have to tell him.

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“Jeantette stop right there!” Clarice called after her daughter, but Mosi was a fast walker and before long she already lost sight of her in the corners and corridor of the house.

While her mother was trying her best to walk as fast and catch up, Jeanette had already reached her father's office and stormed inside like a hurricane, opening the two wings of the door as she went. On her face was a rather displeased expression and her overall look did cause her father to raise an eyebrow. Mostly at the dress really, he had already learned that she disliked those and in fact had a present to give to her later.” Jeanette, how are you?” He said with a smile, standing up from his chair and walking over from behind his desk. Despite everything it was actually quite nice for him to see her in this look. With her hair straightened and in a dress, she actually looked as presentable as any noblewoman out there, if not better. Then again this could have been his inner father pride talking.” I see your mother had gotten to you.” He then added with a smile.

“Fine, enough and yes, quite so. She's lucky I don't have the time to argue today...” Mosi replied as Clarice also stormed into the office. With the two side by side it was actually quite easy to spot they were mother and daughter. Granted even brought into 'presentable' state, Jeanette still retained some of her wild feel. William smiled at the sight, remembering the past when she was still small, before her brought her to the Americas.” We should be armed when we leave for the Almack's later! I have bad feeling about the event and being armed is just a good thing to do!” Mosi stated with proud sure of her opinion voice.

“William, you cannot allow her to do that!” Clarice said right away afterwards with unbelieving voice.” It's bad enough how she dresses and walks about all the time, but on this occasion at least she should look normal!” Was her mother's statement and naturally Mosi turned red from irritation.” Don't get angry at me, it's the truth! No man would approach you like that! How will we marry you if things continue like this!”

“I already stated that I will not chance myself for anyone! Why should I?” Mosi replied in irritation.” I will be armed tonight and neither you nor the ancestral spirits can stop me!” She stated, glaring at Clarice.

“Alright both of you, stop it already. I don't want to see you two fight when I have just returned home.” William said as he noted that the state of affairs between these mother and daughter was like that of two angry cats. Lots of hissing! He also smiled because despite how they argued it only showed how similar they are when it came to their willfulness.

Mosi and Clarice looked at each other and finally sighed in unison.” I will not go there unarmed... but fine I do suppose it's better for those not trained like my siblings to not carry weapons. Weapons would simply cause them bigger problems if chaos happens.” Jean stated, proposing a middleground of sorts. Her mother also nodded with her agreement on the case and William finally smiled once more.

“I guess we reached an agreement on this. Me and Jeanette will be armed tonight.” William stated and looked Clarice who sighed and nodded.” Good, now I suppose you still have to oversee the preparation for the rest of the kids, because from what I hear you threw all your time till now on supervising Jeanette.” At the last statement both women with him in the room growled in irritation and Clarice muttered some sort of annoyed sentence as she walked away. It wasn't easy to understand, but he clearly caught the '...like father...like daughter...' part.

“Don't be too angry with her, she just wishes you the best in her own way.” Mosi's father stated and she only looked at him before nodding.

“I know that, but she shouldn't be so overbearing about it.” Was her short reply.” I'm what I am. The fact the people here don't understand it nor want to realize it doesn't concern me... I'm not going to be her.” She explained, but this was just the countless time they've had this conversation already.

“So tell me, have there really been no suitors while I was away?” He asked, returning to his desk, waving for her to follow him and without even saying anything, she hopped to sit on the edge of his desk as she used to do when she was a child.

“None... well... I did meet someone interesting today though. He saw me, but didn't say that I should change or anything...” She started to explain her meeting with Fyror to her father.

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The soft knock sounded at Sister Mary's door mere moments after she had shut it behind them, leaving the young Apostolic to question whether it was in the good Lord's plans for her to have privacy at all that day. At least the meaningful part of the exchange had been passed along, or at least she had assumed it was. Perhaps this conversation had to be readdressed after the emergency. Of course, the fact that Elizaveta had predicted that she would be needed elsewhere, mere seconds before the knock was somewhat impressive. Minor acts of divination like that could come in very useful to a woman of her occupation.

When the cloistered Sister announced that there had been another attack, and that the Bishop was requesting her presence in the undercroft, it gave direct confirmation to Mary's suspicions. She had the feeling that, were she to engage the Russian noblewoman in direct conflict, she would be a very dangerous opponent. Intangible qualities like split-second precognition (if that is what it truly was) would make for a very interesting sparring match. Perhaps she would request some practice with the Lady out in the courtyard another time.

Still looking at Elizaveta, Mary responded to the more recent visitor. "I shall be along immediately, Sister." Luckily, Mary had already equipped herself for an evening working her calling at Almack's. Admittedly, she didn't think her more combative ministrations would be in demand. But she was skilled in prayercraft and packed a lot of holy water. "Lady Romanova, I would be obliged were you to lend your insight into this situation. If the attacks are related, we would all benefit from your perspective, if you are willing." She wordlessly offered the Russian Aristocrat the use of her second halberd or any of her primary weapons, unsure if she preferred to engage if necessary or if that was the reason she kept guards.

With that, Mary took up her Swiss halberd and strode purposefully from her quarters. Along the way, she checked the wrappings around her forearms to make certain they were solid and fitting, then felt for her chain rosaries; one around her neck and one hanging from her belt. She never broke stride, and soon found her way down the stairs, through the Chapel, and stepping into the flickering firelight illuminating the Chapel Undercroft.

Mary liked it down here. A Child of Light more comfortable in the dark. It was a contradiction, certainly. Understandable to those who knew of Mary's background and training; she was a unique - a non-standard Knight if ever there was one. Respectfully, she approached Bishop Mansfield and knelt in front of him briefly. Your Excellency." she intoned before rising and looking for the victim. Without further comment, she began to inspect the fallen form before her, extending her senses to include the mundane and the Divine.

She addressed the rugged looking man whom she assumed brought the victim in. "Tell me everything. What happened, how long ago, where. What attacked her, first." Sister Mary pulled the rosary from her belt and laid the crucifix upon the departed woman's forehead, keeping the chain hanging loosely around her wrist. She wasn't sure what would happen next and wished to be ready for any possibility. Sister Mary was thorough and professional, if a bit terse than what was expected from someone of her gender. "Quickly, sir. Fugit inreparabile tempus."

Millicent took a deep breath, hearing the door slam behind her. She had once again upset her step mother by insisting that her sisters be armed at least in the most minor sense of the word. Neither had been trained formally but knew where to stick the pointy end of a knife into someone or something. Very basic but Mrs. Wyndham would have none of it. Millicent would not go unarmed that evening though no matter what amount of fit pitching her so called mother proceeded to lash out with. Millicents first and top priority was her families safety.

Rubbing the spot above the bridge of her nose, she took another deep breath before heading back downstairs to see if her butler had found the hackney which had escorted the two others form her home earlier in the day. Thankfully he had and the boy was more than willing to let her know how things had transpired while they were with him and where they had gone. Hearing they were all safe to the best of his knowledge left Millicent with a small sense of relief. She wished they had come back here when they were finished, to thank them at least, but there was nothing she could do about it at this time.

She couldn't exactly blame either of them for not wanting to step foot back on her families property. While she had nothing against either of them, her mother was less than welcoming. Mosi was different and her mother had made it clear that this was unacceptable. Granted she didn't understand Mosi herself but she respected the woman. Not to mention that Virginia was a friend of hers, so that made her perfectly fine in Millicents book. Then there was Fryor... Poor man, her mother had made him the brunt of her tittering last time they had met in public and even though Millicent had put her mother in her place for it she felt it was not enough. The man was kind and brave from what she could tell, he didn't deserve such babblings. Even with the scar he was quite handsome, perhaps even more so because of it.

Shaking away the thoughts she wandered upstairs to finish preparing for the evening. It was sure to be a long one.



"Yes, of course," Elizaveta said without hesitation. Following Mary down from her private quarters and into the bowels of the church. This was not where she had expected to see this day but events had changed and circumstances had arose that called for a change of plans. Gathering the folds of her skirt she made her way behind Mary to meet with the two gentlemen that were down there with the body.

She had already met the bishop on her arrival but this other man she did not know. Seeing Gerard she gave him a peaceful smile before turning her attention to the bishop who quickly passed on the information that Gerard had provided to him just moments before their arrival.

Elizaveta tilted her head to the side and stepped over to the body, her fingers resting lightly over the woman's as she seemed to become lost in thought. After a moment she finally blinked and looked back up towards Mary, the Bishop, and Gerard in turn before turning and calling out to her guards.

"Bystro poluchit' moi veshchi," she said in a calm and even tone in her mother tongue before turning back to the others. One of her guards posted at the base of the stairs darted up them quickly to do as he was told.

"She has passed but will remain unless we act quickly. The Soulless has spread to her, she will rise again. I can sever the connection if you will permit me to do so."

As Gerard retold the events to the bishop they were approached by one of the sisters. Though she in particular, was different because of the robes she wore, that went along with her overall professional demeanor. It only occurred to him that she was in fact, the sister the bishop had talked about earlier the moment she went over and inspected the dead woman's body. He stood up from his leaning position on the marble slab to make way for her. The young woman wasnt exactly who he had initially envisioned, as he was expecting someone, maybe a bit...taller.

His eyes darted over to the woman who came after, and he was instantly mesmerized by her. He figured her to be a lady of importance by the way she was elaborately dressed unlike anything he had seen in London's upper classes. He thought to at least give her a slight bow in return, but all the while he was practically frozen.

Gerard was brought back from his thoughts once again when the sister asked him straightly of what had happened. He briefly faltered at her directness, trying to find his words before the bishop finally spoke on his behalf, passing the information he told him earlier to the sister. As the other finely dressed woman went over to the body, Gerard watched her curiously at what she did, if not briefly when the look on her face after, followed by the call on the guards did not bode good news. "Is something wrong?" the woman explained to them, while Gerard intently listened as to what had to be done. It will definitely be the first time he would witness something like this up close, and he wast sure if he was feeling excited, vigilant, scared, worried or maybe all four at the same time.

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After the chat with her father, Mosi was in clearly better mood. Her smile had returned to her face despite what she was dressed with and how her hair looked. Surprisingly enough she didn't mind it as much now as she simply wanted to get this show on the way. For formality's sake, she had agreed with her family that she'd leave first with a carriage and her parents and siblings will join later at the proper start of the event.

“We will meete later, be careful! Don't forget the weapons!” She called as she was climbing into the hackney. She was dressed in elegant long black dress typical for the current fashion of London, but made so it also had a certain air of simplicity to it. The design was clean without any needless elements. That said on the back of her waist there were the pair of axes she used, attached to their sheaths and around her waist. Finally the last detail that came with the dress as an accessory of sorts was a veil to cover her face. It was simple enough that she had nothing against using it. A fact her mother was very happy about, hoping to use how great Mosi looked in a dress to hopefully get some possible suitors and candidates for marriage. On other hand she had nothing against the veil cause she viewed it the same way she saw face paint.

“To the Almack's.” She said to the driver with a smile and moments later felt the bumping of the wheels on the uneven roads. Bad feeling was still present in the back of her mind. She really hoped this didn't turn into a meatgrinder or a bloodbath of sorts.

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Sure enough Jeanette arrived in time and had gotten to inspecting the presence guards right away. She wasn't going to let willingly negligence be the fault of any possible tragedy. She did get some curios eyes from a passerby or two as she had left her hackney, but the invitation letter did it's intended job and soon she was inside and inspecting as her job was.

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The carriage deposited Virginia at the Crypt Townhouse, a dear family home that had also been the place of her birth. Virginia smiled wistfully as she stepped down from the carriage, and a second before she reached the front door, it opened for her. Alfred nodded at her, and she replied with a nod in turn, stepping inside the dwelling, and within the next moment, the door shut behind her with a soft click.

However, it wasn't long before she spotted a pair of mischievous eyes from the top of the staircase. James, her youngest and only brother, came sliding down the bannister, taking a little bow as he joined Alfred and Virginia at the bottom. He was dressed in a loose white cotton shirt and beige trousers, with a foil grasped in his hand. "Has Alfred been instructing you in the noble art of fencing, James?" Virginia asked, smirking ever so slightly.

"He's got his father's blood in him, my lady," Alfred responded, as James stabbed at the air clumsily. "He'll be a right 'n proper swordsman, just you see." There was a bit of a twinkle in the elderly man's eye. It was no great secret that Alfred considered himself to be a father of sorts to Virginia and James. But at the same time, with the mention of Lord Dywell, the air took a certain heaviness to it.

"Is father coming back?" James asked, ceasing with his antics for a moment. Virginia braced herself, and then sat herself next to James on the stairs. "Of course he shall. Do not forget, dear James, our family creed: we will survive! Poison us, strangle us, break our bones and we will come back for more." She ruffled his hair gently, and James perked up, resuming his antics. Virginia ducked slightly to avoid the tip of his sword, and then rose to her feet.

"Now you are to remain here with Alfred tonight," Virginia instructed. "The Soulless are at hand and you are too young to face them, James." The boy pouted, and Virginia chuckled ever so slightly. "Soon, I shall send for you to be trained--but tonight, enjoy a reprieve from the disgusting events of the Season. And I shall tell you all of the tragedy that will occur tonight, I promise."

Being a Crypt, those words had their intended impact--James cheered up significantly. Alfred, however, frowned grimly at Virginia. He was not as enchanted by the afterlife as she. "Do be careful, my lady," Alfred asked. And Virginia nodded, smiling at him coyly. "Whenever am I not, dear Alfred?"