Jellial-Here Cometh the Wolves

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Lycanthropy was a heady drug; its effects addictive and its power intoxicating. Every human sense is amplified in some way and can take on a perverse amount of power. Take the sense of touch, for example. The sensation of feeling the world through blade-like claws would endow even the most worthless of peasants with a sense of power: and being able to use those savage sickles to measure a wound? The mastery that imbued in a person…

There were other senses at work, in the lycanthropic mind of Jellial. None of them, as great or as heady as the sense of smell that still perversely dominated the room. He was able to absorb so many rich scents in the room: stale blood and pure blood and sweat and oil all intertwined to form the reek of the world. Thankfully, the scents that Jellial had feared were not present. Maylene’s scent was not here, nor was Que’la’quin’s. His own little pack of beloved ones were not involved in the strange assault on Varro’s men directly.

Sadly, it seemed that they might yet be dragged into it indirectly. Jellial was not deaf, nor did he miss the less-than-casual discrimination against his blood-brother’s race. He let his telepathic links reach all those in the room: despite having but a single target for his ire. “Be careful of what you insult, captain. I’ve found more deceit and foul-play in my time with humans than I have with the lizardfolk.”

He lifts his fingers away from the scraped wounds, pondering the unimaginables and trying to place just what could cause such wounds. Werewolves it seemed, were out of the equation. It would take a diminutive, disfigured werewolf to inflict such strange wounds and Varro’s men were almost certainly trained well enough to deal with a diminutive werewolf. Lizardmen would rarely use anything as intimate as their claws to kill: unless of course they wanted the Lizardfolk to be blamed which left only more bizarre choices. The intricacy of the case was starting to dawn on Jellial: It was likely that any common doctor would have been able to come up with the conclusions Jellial had in a day or so. There were no usual suspects left to case and, if Jellial knew Varro, it was highly likely that a civil war could break out over incidents such as this. It would make all too much sense for Janelle to require the assistance of the Queen’s blades, if only due to the sensitivity of the situation.

So where did that leave the investigation? Werewolves were likely out of the equation, and their were few lizardfolk who would intentionally use claws when a good sword would have sufficed and drawn less attention to themselves. What other options were there: perhaps a different Lycanthrope, such as a Werecat? or perhaps an independant lizardfolk, with a vendetta against Varro? Maybe these ‘Dragoon Knights’ were attempting to spark a civil war and frame the lizardkin? or perhaps just a bizarre fourth option that was beyond obvious comprehension?

It hardly mattered now. Jellial had no evidence for any such wild accusations: he could only say what was not true: and all he could confirm was that the werewolf he intimately knew and the lizardman he loved as a brother were not the murderers here. That was the truths that he knew, and that would not stop a war.

”So I have some good news for you captain. The wounds are not those of any common Werewolf: Too thin and too narrow.” Jellial lifted the slightly dampened claws of his lycanthropic form and considered tasting the man’s flesh. Just a lick of sweet ambrose might appease the killer instincts inside, but it would likely be a less-than-comforting sight amongst his new allies. Instead he flicked his fingers sharply and splattered the last speckles of mostly dry flesh scraps onto the floor, clearing his nails of the worst of it. ”I would be open to exploring any avenue or lead: The werewolf pack or Que’la’quin are both options open to us, and negotiations with both parties would benefit from my presence…

Slowly, Jellial reaches down to pick something up. His behemoth fingers wrapping around the bundled up cloak and shirt. He turned towards the group and offered a toothy, wolfy grin. ”If we have no other points of discussion, i’ll go get changed. I imagine at least half the party would prefer me fully clothed.” Jellial stands near the door, politely waiting for any of his fellow Queen’s blades to say something.

Royal Blood

When the documents related to the investigation were laid on the table, Auric picked up some of them and started reading them, trying to make some sense of the crime. He quickly glanced over as many documents as he could, and got out a small notebook to jot down some quick notes about each of the suspects, witnesses, and the details of the crime in particular. He spent most of his time reading the documents while the party discussed the murder with the Crown-Prince.

Auric had a few thoughts himself concerning the murder and their investigation. The first was the matter of the carpet, no doubt the king had been killed before he had the opportunity to torch the carpet, so it was possible that he was meeting with someone when the conversation went south. He thought about asking for the carpet to go over, as he could potentially use his scent to identify the perpetrator if there was a struggle. However, he was worried that doing so would send a red flag to everyone around that he was, in fact, a lycanthrope. Given that this was the "Capital of the Witch Hunters", revealing his true nature would likely have disastrous results. Auric decided to dismiss the carpet entirely when he learned that the king had been killed by arrows. In such a case it was likely that there was no struggle and that the rug would be of little consequence. Still, he thought it might do to keep it in the back of his mind in case there was some magic involved that could be detected (magic dust or the like).

His next thought turned to Penelope. As the questions were asked, her story seemed more and more suspicious to him. While he sincerely doubted that Penelope would willingly kill the king, several other aspects of her story indicated that she was not out of the woods. Auric suspected that it was quite possible that she had been possessed, most likely by ghosts or some other spectral entity, but possibly by demons. It would certainly explain why Penelope was in the room and not targeted. Until further notice, he figured, Penelope being possessed by something was his main suspect. Still, he did not voice these suspicions out loud, lest he earn the swift ire of Xavier. Suffice it to say, if Penelope was involved somehow, this was going to be really difficult, as they would need very concrete evidence for Xavier to even consider his own daughter to be the criminal, even indirectly.

It was then that he started making some mental notes of what had been said of the murder.

"Cause of death was two arrows"

More than likely, the assailant was an archer of quite some skill. This was the primary reason he thought most inquiries into the rug would be fruitless, as the only blood likely there was the king's.

"though the bodies were severely charred from fire."

Rather unlikely to have been the cause of death. More likely it was an attempt to cover any tracks that might have been left behind otherwise, though he did think it odd that the carpet did not also catch fire. Of course, there was always the off chance that the king had tried to burn the rug away, but had accidentally burned himself when he fell to the arrows. He shivered a bit at that thought.

"Foreign or internal enemies?... More than could possible be counted though most prominently your kingdom."

Not surprising, Liveria wasn't exactly the picture of peace. He doubted Renalta was behind it, particularly since Xavier had recruited Renaltan agents to help him.

"Most likely it was an assassin for hire. Easier to cover one's tracks that way and we don't exactly lack those around here."

In all likelyhood, if it wasn't Penelope as he suspected, it was one of these.

"There was a merchant of death. An Ex-King's Ranger, if I recall correctly, who showed up to help determine if the arrows were poisoned or empowered with magic to burst their victims into flames... He found nothing."

Strange...the only real way that could happen is if the culprit used some kind of torch or similar to set him on fire, but that would've also taken the carpet out with it and set the gargoyles loose. It had to be some kind of mage magic, so this merchant of death's synopsis was rather suspicious. Definitely warrants further info.

"The assassin was a woman... I remember that. Her tone, she said something about...Ghosts... Fulfilling a contract."

Well, I can at least strike out all of the male suspects from my list. It's certainly possible that the culprit used some kind of disguise, but rather unlikely, since such a thing would likely draw attention without helping all that much. As for the ghosts...that could mean a number of things. Again, it could've been the ghosts talking to a possessed Penelope, but it could've also been some kind of blood contract or similar to where the assassin didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

"I was... I was in the middle of the room. I'm not sure why I wasn't killed... The assassin must have seen me. I'm not sure why... This is all too much..."

The middle of the room? If the assassin really wanted to cover her tracks she would've killed Penelope too more than likely.

It was then that Auric heard Rayne Walker speak. He had noticed Rayne getting extraordinarily angry, but couldn't find the cause. Auric dismissed it as concern for the Queen's safety. However when Rayne started speaking several of his own theories in front of the king, it struck him as particularly arrogant. It seemed like he thought he had everything figured out in the first few minutes in the investigation, even without looking at the evidence. It was almost as if he thought himself above everyone else somehow.

Auric put down the documents on the desk and made a glare at Rayne. "Slow down Rayne." he said in a stern tone, "I think you are jumping to conclusions far too quickly. Put simply, we just don't know enough about the assassination to think it is a ruse, and until we get some evidence otherwise we should treat the assassination threat as serious. We also don't know whether the assassin even knew Penelope was there or cared about her presence." Auric cooled down to a more gentle tone, "Still, I don't think it would be remiss to keep the security strong here and send a message to Renalta in case the assassin gets any ideas. I also think it would be a good idea to check out this shop and see what he knows. I believe I will accompany you when the time arises."

Then Auric turned his attention to Xavier "If I may ask, what exactly was the procedure to activate the gargoyles in the case of an attack? Was a torch to be used, some kind of magic? I find it odd that the body was charred and yet the rug was still intact."

Here Cometh the Wolves

Truth to be told, Esyllt was uncomfortable at the notion of Saul going by himself. He had made a mockery of common etiquette as well as the knight herself; evidently shown by the man rolling his eyes on multiple occasions. Esyllt was uncertain as to what further damage he could cause to potential relationships if he continued acting like a brute. However, Saul did make a vital point in splitting up; the situation was dire and they needed to cover a lot of ground quickly.

Although Esyllt had attempted to have been covert in her question regarding lizardfolk, Saul and the captain evidently dismissed any form of respect towards the lizardfolk, who more or less seemed to hold humans in a similar esteem. Esyllt was quickly learning how complicated an issue this was and how hard it would be for her act as a neutral party, given how she still couldn't help but watch Shria and Bastian in awe as the mysterious creatures they were to her.

“I'd rather you join us, Saul.” Esyllt spoke, then nodded towards Jellial, “If control of the self is worth a mention, your presence would be a boon to our company.” After all, the man was built like a brick wall; which could at the very least earn either the respect or fear of more... Savage cultures. At least, form was how the lizardfolk seemed to judge Jellial. Esyllt made a mental note to keep that thought for herself, however.

“I know little of Tuleria's politics, but if there are not a werewolf's,” Esyllt addressed to Jellial though his telepathy, before he would leave the room, “Can you ask Bastian or Rhia to try to see if they find a match? I think they would respond better to you than to the rest of us.”

Here Cometh the Wolves

Laenaia discreetly and as quick as she could, stepped behind the captain after seeing Jellial transformed into a werewolf. A soft hiss came out from her mouth before Jellial's mental message came. While she had no love of the werekinds, the werewolf's words eased her somewhat. At least she won't have to contend with a rampaging one. That would be bad for all sort of reason, one of them being that she wouldn't be of much help and that she would have to run around in the sun soon after.

Was that why he smelt like wet animal? she idly thought.

She didn't zone out for long when she heard Saul mentioning her name. The vampire gave hairy man a sly smile, "Are you concerned of me?" although that was all she said before shaking her head to Saul's question afterward. Separating themselves meant they would cover more ground and leads, which would mean they could finish this job faster, which meant they'll leave this hell pot faster, which was just fine for the vampire. The pairing couldn't be better too, James looked like he could keep his pace in a run, which meant she didn't have to worry about him and could just run from any trouble without any reservation.

Laenaia then took a glance at Jellial, who had taken his clothes, "While I don't mind either way, I imagine your going around half-naked would cause a lot more trouble nor I would call it discreet."

Esyllt thought it would be better for him to do something else first though. Laenaia then waited for the others with a cocked head, particularly looking at the lizardfolks, watching for their reactions.

Jason Drake- Royal Blood

Xavier then turns to the two women as they bombard questions of all kinds, trying to hit every base at the same time it seemed. He takes a deep breath, and then attempts to summarize each answer As Jason noticed a look of mild irritation was on his face. "Cause of death was two arrows though the bodies were severely charred from fire. Foreign or internal enemies?... More than could possible be counted though most prominently your kingdom." Jason raised an eyebrow It was extremely unlikely that Queen Kouri or Alexandra would call for any assassinations. And it seemed he wasn’t being very ‘diplomatic’ with pointing fingers at their kingdom... Xavier then grimaces. "Most likely it was an assassin for hire. Easier to cover one's tracks that way and we don't exactly lack those around here." He considers her last question for a moment. "Aside from the guards whom have no further knowledge of the situation and don't have the proper education to reach any sort of proper deduction... There was a merchant of death. An Ex-King's Ranger,”, At this Jason sat up slightly, Surprised an Ex Ranger would live Here in Liveria, he wondered who it was…He knew many of the Rangers due to his mentor, who was In charge of them. Xavier continued, “if I recall correctly, who showed up to help determine if the arrows were poisoned or empowered with magic to burst their victims into flames... He found nothing." He grew confused, Normally Rangers have very Keen eyes, able to determine the type of wood used… how skilled the archer is, the type of bow used depending how deep the wound was at the farthest distance possible in the room, many other details that would give light to the archer that others normally couldn’t find out. There must be something he was not telling Xavier. Xavier pulls a paper off the table, "He Has a shop a few streets away named The Rat Skull Charmé. You could try asking him questions, maybe he will be more cooperative with others working for Renalta instead of my own guards." Most defiantly that was what Jason was going to do

After that Xavier turns and glares at him icily at his question "Watch your words. The guards have all sworn oaths of loyalty to Liveria. They would die in a heart beat for Liveria. You will not question their honesty to their king again, as any who would hide information pertinent to this case would be hung in the gallows." His face remained as stone towards Xavier, clearly not intimidated by the mans glare He straightens himself out, going back to his rather standoffish and distrusting manner that he was known for. "As for you searching the area, I believe my guards, and the merchant of death, were competent at finding clues. Besides, we know all the entrances, and all the hiding places that you wouldn't know to check... We built them." Jason thought Xavier to be a fool, to blindly trust everyone because of an Oath. If something like this were to happen in Renaltia, EVERYONE would be questioned; even the head of the Rangers would fall under question. For almost every man has his price for treason.

He took a breath before saying. “Forgive me my lord, it was not my intention to insult your loyal Guards honor. I was merely trying to do my job in investigating this horrible murder sire. You said so your self, They’ don't have the proper education to reach any sort of proper deduction...’ perhaps they missed to say something because they felt it was unimportant. As for this merchant of death, I am certain he is more than capable of performing an investigation, but his mind most probably works slightly different from mine… perhaps I may notice something that he wouldn’t as he would something I might not. “He lowered his head to show that he was only clarifying what his purpose was. “And again my lord I am not trying to say they didn’t do a good job, but you asked for our help when your men and this merchant of death came up with nothing, and doing these things would help in the investigation more so than just relying on second hand information, I am only trying to do my job to help you Sire.

It was at this point that Penelope looked between Ceann and Rayne. It seemed she finally remembered something after Rayne warmed her up. "The assassin was a woman... I remember that. Her tone, she said something about...Ghosts... Fulfilling a contract." Her face pales. "...Something about visiting another royal family... The only one anywhere near here would be..." Mikan's eyes open widely as she finishes the thought. "... Renalta." She looks at the rest of the party. "... This just became personal."
He agreed, this did become personal, despite him being here and having to take care of this, his first and foremost duty was to protect the queens. After this meeting he would send a messenger to inform Queen Kouri and his mentor at once of the potential threat.
"Wait, Penelope... How did you hear the assassin speak of this other planned attack? Who was she talking to?" Jason knew where he was going with this…

"I don't know..." She said. "If there was someone else in the room, I... I didn't see..."

Allowing a moment in between questions, he continued with another question, "Penelope, where were you during the attack? Did the assassin see you? Why would she say these things in your presence?"

"I was... I was in the middle of the room. I'm not sure why I wasn't killed... The assassin must have seen me. I'm not sure why... This is all too much..." it seemed queer that she would be in the center of the room and survive while the others were targeted. Something was off about her story, but they couldn’t inquire more, as it would place the sights on her and he was sure Xavier would not appreciate that.

"I'm sorry if this is upsetting you," He then looked to his fellow Blades. He then began to state the obvious if there were those who were not following "From what I can gather, this means that the assassin was aware of Penelope's presence, likely knew exactly who she was, and fed her the information she has told us of a contract, ghosts and our Queen being in danger. We must warn the queen of impending attack despite the fact that she is likely not truly a target of this assassin. I suggest we stay in the city and investigate further, find out how the assassin was so able to walk through these halls unseen, and question the former ranger on what he knows."

Turning to the Crown-Prince, he continued. "You and your daughter are the likely targets of this assassin, who I assume is still in town, waiting for your bolstered defenses to return to normal in the wake of the forged discovery of her intention kill Queen Kouri. If you can manage to somehow put even more defenses between your family and harm, do so as soon as you can. Keep watch over your daughter, “ he concluded "I intend to go to the Rat Skull Charmé shop. If you've nothing to add to all to this, we should send that message to Kouri and go there immediately."
Auric put down the documents on the desk and glared at Rayne. Which Jason did as well "Slow down Rayne." Auric said in a stern tone, "I think you are jumping to conclusions far too quickly. Put simply, we just don't know enough about the assassination to think it is a ruse, and until we get some evidence otherwise we should treat the assassination threat as serious. We also don't know whether the assassin even knew Penelope was there or cared about her presence." Auric cooled down to a more gentle tone, "Still, I don't think it would be remiss to keep the security strong here and send a message to Renalta in case the assassin gets any ideas. I also think it would be a good idea to check out this shop and see what he knows. I believe I will accompany you when the time arises."

Then Auric turned his attention to Xavier "If I may ask, what exactly was the procedure to activate the gargoyles in the case of an attack? Was a torch to be used, some kind of magic? I find it odd that the body was charred and yet the rug was still intact."

Jason spoke again, Leaning on the arm of the chair with his left elbow closer to Auric as he looked at him. “ I Would point out being in the center of the room would make it Very unlikely the assassin did not know she was there… why would the assassin speak to herself in such a cryptic way? Despite being insane if that be the case… she was sending a message. Be it real or false, we will inform the Queen right away… It’s possible for the princess and crown prince to be in danger still. I don’t think it to be a ruse to just make it seem she was moving on.. she could have EASILY killed the princess then and there…then moved on to the Crown prince soon after. You all see how fortified this castle is… The assassin is already in, it wouldn’t matter for her to move around with ease seeing how she made it to the throne room and killed the king. I think this threat is real to both families. As soon as we are done here I have a few words for this Merchant of Death, and I agree with Miss Ceann, we should split up, with the three of us going to the Merchant of Death should be enough.

Cristoff felt a knot in his stomach loosen slightly as his fingers passed straight through the clown. Of course, this did not mean they were out of danger, but it was clear that the number of adversaries was considerably smaller than had been first apparent. Nevertheless, he certainly did not underestimate the magician – for although he had failed to determine his position, the strength of his magical ability was now even clearer to Cristoff. In his attempt, the name “James” had somehow rooted itself into his mind; for reasons unknown to him, he seemed to believe that was their enemy’s name.

Moving on from the clown, Cristoff next attempted to brush past one of the onlookers, clearly out place in this mad carnival. As Cristoff approached him, his arm just beginning to stretch out, a shrill screech made him turn his head around, just in time to avoid a crow that had swooped at him from a rooftop. Before he could gather his wits about him, he was already at the threshold of the inn.

The sight that met them was most unexpected – but then, Cristoff would have been more surprised if it hadn’t been. An image of a man – dressed not very differently from the illusions in the carnival – appeared, flashing and moving around the room. He could tell the puppeteer was nearby, but as he saw the six children standing on the boxes, he checked his first thought, which had been to disable the magician’s magic just long enough for one of the others to stab or shoot him in a vital point. It was clear they had no way of saving the children in such a manner.

"Welcome to my Carnival. Now before any of you are so foolish as to try and attack, these six lovely children are standing on boxes of hard illusion, bear in mind that the nooses around their necks are not. If you approach them I will drop the boxes and they'll have a very real hanging."

Cristoff considered attempting to detect the magician’s position once more, but it was obvious that it would not help them very much in their current position. The disembodied voice spoke once more; this time, three identical illusions leaned on the second floor railing.

"This carnival is special. Within it there are several big surprises waiting to annihilate the town, but I am not without a sense of fair play. For each I have created a main attraction. IF you can defeat the attraction, you can reach the surprise and put an end to it. But there are rules!" He pointed dramatically. "One person to each attraction, attempt to work them as a team and i'll set off the surprises early and if you survive you'll have to be the ones to explain to Queen Alexandria how you got her family annihilated so thoroughly. There are four attractions. One each."

The man pronounced the names of the attractions: "Gauntlet De Pendules. Galerie des Glaces. The Circ De Cauchemar, and the La Galerie Tournage."

Cristoff did not speak the language, but Google Translate told him he could roughly guess at the meaning. It was clear that Tristan should take the ‘La Galerie Tournage’, as he was the only one among the group with any degree of experience with ranged weaponry, but he looked so frightened that it did not seem to Cristoff he would be able to play his role. He wished he could say or do something to comfort his little brother, but alas, it was all he could do to keep himself from panicking. It was with the feeling that he was sending Tristan to his death that he suggested he take the La Galerie Tournage; there really was no other choice. They were now in the magician’s power.

After a short discussion, the rest divided up the remaining attractions between them, and Cristoff – believing his knowledge of geometry and tracking would assist him – chose to subject himself to the Galerie des Glaces – the Hall of Mirrors, or so he believed.

First Blow-Alexander Lyre

The pistols went back in their holsters momentarily, and Alex shut his eyes as he took two quick steps through the foul black clouds of smoke. The noxious sulfurous stung the eyes, and the momentary blindness was better than tearing up. His hands followed practiced motions, pulling two fresh cartridges from the ammo belt around his waist. The smooth feel of brass was a sharp contrast to the mottled grip along the handles, and the two new rounds were held by the pinky and ring fingers in either hand. The other three fingers were more than sufficient for picking the pistols back up, and then pinning the rounds to the grips.

Alex opened his eyes to fresher air, and quickly eyed his handiwork. Thalien frowned in revulsion at the gore splattered across her face and clothes, and Erasmus had dismantled the other one still standing, sticky gore covering his blade. Alex eyed the area, as he felt one of his pistols misfire. He hadn’t hit any team members but….

Ahhh...

The damn gecko was back, darting away from the smoking hole. As for the other undead, were having some trouble getting up. The gut reaction was the slower and safer of the two reloads, cracking one barrel open with both hands, and then the other. If it was necessary, as the night that started this whole disaster, he could reload each pistol with only the hand holding it. The tips of his fingers warmed, as the hot casings scorched the leather once again. He slid both rounds in the empty barrels, and they snapped up with satisfying click.

A corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk. Alex could feel the blood coursing through his veins, and it felt good. Even the shrill shriek that came next didn’t erase the feeling, but heightened it. Alex saw the remaining trio of undead collapse back to the ground, and he made a mental note to avoid the area as he jogged to catch up with his companions. The gecko was still running, and Alex eyed it. It tickled the back of his brain, something about the damn undead thing was wrong…

Maher Adoni - First Blow

Maher didn't have time to close on the undead before his comrades eliminated the two still standing. something for which he was a little grateful, splitting his water three ways took a certain measure of fine control that fatigued him a little. He shook his head for a moment to try and clear some of the mental fatigue and took a deep breath before spotting the three he had knocked down begin to rise to their feet again...
... It was then the shrill scream split the air, startling Maher for a moment as he looked up the hill towards the source a few moments later the tone of the scream registered in his mind. He looked back at the three remaining undead and almost didn't blame them for apparently deciding not to get up again after all, the scream unnerved him somewhat as well.

He nodded as the others started up the hill however, regardless of the three undead still moving they needed to reach the witch hunter and since the three showed no inclination to stop them right now the path was as clear as it was going to get he imagined. So Maher followed the other three up the hill as well, tossing a cautionary glance over his shoulder at the three remaining undead as he passed them.

Rayvon listens carefully to what the others were saying before bowing her head respectfully at Xavier. The arrows, to her, still seemed like a cover-up. The presence of fire would have just seemed redundant otherwise. She lifts her head, looking over the group before shaking her head at how many were in fact going to the shop. A group of three armed men who looked so terribly out of place in this town was going to draw attention. "I will accompany Ceann. It may have been some time, but I was familiar with this city at one time. Perhaps I will manage to be of assistance that way." Carefully, she drops her voice and moves to Rayne's side so only he might hear, "You are not the leader of this group, pretty boy. Tread carefully. This is a delicate situation that holds the fates of perhaps not one but two royal families and holds the potential to upset the power balance on a large scale in such an already dire time."

Withdrawing, Rayvon straightens herself out and addresses Xavier once more. "My liege, I do not wish to disturb you, but perhaps while we are out, you could gather for us the more physical evidence for our investigations. I am hesitant to accept the written reports yet. I do not doubt the capabilities of those whom examined before, yet I am worried that something may have been missed in their initial surveys."

"My name is simply Ceann, your grace. I came here because the wandering way I lead has brought me here and because a great injustice and tragedy has befallen you and this realm, if we can assist with that, we will." --Ceann, Page 2.

Amazonia Imperiia

The two Amazonian women look at each other momentarily, a pair of sly smiles exchanged between them. An outsider challenging them? Amusing. One of them, however, was confused by the joke. The one on the left quietly whispers, asking what a gun was. The one of the right shakes her head. "Boomstick, Elyssa. Point at someone, pull trigger, violent death. Slavery scum are fond of them." Elyssa nods, getting it after it was described to her. Between the two, she was the younger and shorter one, only inching in at five foot eleven inches, unusual for most Amazons who usually exceeded six feet in height. Still. There was no barrier for her as she stepped forward to take up Ethyssa's challenge. "I accept your invitation. Mira, weapon."

Mira, her older compatriot, smirked as she brushed past Ethyssa to get a small buckler and staff. She purrs in appreciation. "You're a strong woman. Most who come from the outside are not so... Toned." Having grabbed both articles, she proceeds back to Elyssa, handing her the buckler and staff. Elyssa wears the buckler over her left arm, and wields the make-shift spear in such a way as to indicate being left handed. She was likely used to fighting solo; it meant that fighting in formations would require her back to be facing another's back, a weakness in most situations for spear formations.

"The first move is yours, since you issued the challenge." Elyssa says with a small smile. Between the two she also seemed to be the calmer type, again, unusual for an Amazonian.

---

"WHAT?!" One of the guards exclaims in great anger. The two guards look at each other before nodding. "I will investigate this personally." The one on the left remarked as she grabs her spear tightly in her hands and leaves the pair to investigate. That left one guard at the tent. Luckily for Kraith, the spar that was about to begin and the diplomatic dealings had the attention of nearly all the remaining Amazons, meaning that aside from the three standing outside the queen's tent and the two inside the princess' tent, nobody else was around.

Nobody at all.

How convenient... Almost too convenient.

---

First Blow

Thailen, being the first to act, was the first to the top of the hill. The quick ascent through the fog went undisturbed save for two things: The sight of the undead gecko just ahead of her, almost seeming to lead the way, and the sounds of a small battle just ahead. A few seconds further into the fog and she was near the top of the hill, the fog breaking away for a few hundred feet in each direction to reveal a rather depressing sight.

Atop the hill was a large, dead oak tree, upon which hung the recently slain corpse of yet another Liverian witch hunter to a magical tether that was likely made to prolong her suffering. Her gaunt expression and very thin frame however suggest that the life was drained out of her, the only identifiable thing left being her short blonde hair... Luckily for Thailen and the others, however, a few feet away, a woman rolls into view, and instantly matches the descriptions given for Wren Vesper. Though she had lost some of her youth and was and breathing hard, the strewn corpses of several undead much like the ones they had fought earlier at least indicated that age had not dulled her senses, or her blade, which shimmered with a dark and unholy light.

Wren spots the group and manages to give an affirmative nod before rolling out of the way of something large, and fast... Something Thailen would recognize instantly from her Liverian background: A Gargoyle. A piece of inanimate stone brought to life and given organic form, though with a tough outer shell that mimics the appearance of organic looking skin. Not invincible, but very tough to kill, it would require coordinated effort. This one in particular had a set of vicious looking fangs, likely implanted by the Lich after the fact to make it a more effective killing machine, despite the pain it was likely in every moment with how they protruded from its mouth. Even as its heavy wings beat with enough force to flatten the grass several feet underneath it, its attention turned momentarily to the new arrivals. With a bone chilling voice, it breathes out one sentence: "More skin to sew unto my glorious frame..."

Behind Maher, he would hear the now familiar shambling of the three undead. It seemed that whatever had stopped them from continuing their attack had ceased, though thankfully they weren't too fast, it wouldn't be long before they caught up and got into the fight.

Thus, if they chose to fight quickly, they could, with great risk, potentially take the gargoyle down before being attacked again by the three remaining undead. If not, well... It could get interesting.

Sarah's Request



As Andrea moved forward and attempted to convince the Dwarves through the power of seduction to come to their senses her swaying hips, ebony skin and ruby red lips moved in ways that insinuated much and promised more. The two pale dwarves stood there an eyebrow raised on each simultaneously before ignoring the drow woman as she failed to get a rise out of them, metaphorical or otherwise.

Ein's was ignored flat out as Naream summoned the four wights to attempt to subdue them. The Dwarves fought, but slowly and poorly with the controlling intellect lacking the means to do particularly well. One of the Wights was forced off the edge as the two dwarves were shoved down hard and fast by the wights. The strength in the undead creatures forceful grips preventing the Dwarves from climbing up from the ground. But even so the Wights couldn't pull the weapons or shields from the dwarves who still fought the grip of the undead leaving Kasim ready for a battle that wasn't there.

The two pinned dwarves howled in rage in perfect unison. "Turn back now and die."

Here Cometh the Wolves

Saul nodded lightly at the Captain. Silently taking into account the feeling that something was deliberately left out by him, something rather important. For now it was better to keep such feelings to himself and only play on them when the moment presented itself. Saul then turned his attention towards Jellial, who had finished his inspection of the body. His face twisted and contorted into one of minor annoyance.

“Wonderful, that means someone has just been toying with the authorities. Making it look like one of the local Beastmen is responsible.”

Well that would at least explain why no one of Lycan or Lizard blood was being targeted: why would someone go after their own kind? It's much more convincing to slice up some poor sod and make it look like some “savage” Beastman did it. Of course it could still be a Lycan, just a different kind, but Saul was under the impression that it was just an average man pulling these killings in order to drive the Beastmen out. But it was all hearsay at this point. Though he was certain that whoever was carrying these murders out was no friend of the local tribes. Saul once again speaks to Jellial and gives a satisfactory grunt.

“Indeed. Talk to both, we need their support. I have a suspicion that whoever is behind this wants' nothing more than the Lycans and Lizardmen out of the country and is framing them for it with these slice and dice tactics.”

And these Dragon Knights seemed an obvious suspect. Though perhaps too obvious. From what he had been briefly told, they seemed like a zealous fringe group. The dime a dozen you see in any major city. Though with their whole ethnic cleansing mentality, they perfectly fitted the kind of suspect Saul was looking for, assuming he was right in the first place.

Saul then looks up toward Esyllt and with a small frown shakes his head.

“Nay, Master Varro has to be accounted for. If he's parading around the city this is the best and safest way to reach him. He is of vital importance in the span of things as well.”

He shifted his eyes suspiciously towards Jellial for a brief moment before focusing back on Esyllt.

“Besides, I'm well aware that to some, especially Lycans. My blood smells absolutely delicious. And I'm willing to think that they imagine I would taste a lot like chicken. So being near a large group of them is not good for my health.”

He looks at Esyllt solemnly, he suddenly was reminded of his years as a Commander. But quickly pushed back those bitter memories and spoke in a tone that resembled more of a refined general, and less of a brute he seemed to be now.

“Keep Jellial safe and protect him if anything should happen. He is our only link to the local tribes and to lose him would be insufferable.”

He then takes a glare at James for a moment to finally get a chance to size him up.

“And you should stick with the Girl. Keep her safe and head over to the Doctor.”

With that being said. Saul motioned for the Captain to lead him to Varro. He would be the odd man out and go by himself. But it was better than anyone else going by themselves. With all this investigating work, safety was a huge priority. As he begins to leave he hears Laenaia make a small quip, he turns and lashes out, his aura of leadership broken by his somewhat amazingly unreal temper.

“OF COURSE I'M CONCERNED!” he snarls viciously at her. His red pupil eyes harsh and unkind, but also a soft pain and worry behind them. “You think I wanna take a boat ride home with a bunch of you in boxes!”

He turns his back on the group and gestures for Captain Rexel to begin moving... quickly. Before Saul began maiming him. Who was she to ask him that question? Stupid idiot girl. He quickly took a deep breath and composed himself as he walked down the hallway.

After all, he had a General to attend to. One that was possibly paranoid, unstable and possessed. The only positive thing Saul could think of the occasion was that it certainly wouldn't be boring. Though Saul quickly realized that wasn't really making him feel better.

First Blow - - Thailen Vicarris

---

Ahead loomed the gargoyle, it's height far surpassing any human's. Thailen could feel the force of it's wings from where she stood, and it's voice grated in her ears. To slay it would be no simple task, especially with more foes drawing up from behind. Cursing her decision to leave the three remaining corpses, the red-haired Liverian tried to take stock of the situation. The Queen's Blades were all out of breath from their ascent, and Wren Vesper from her fight. She had expected a fight, but not against something whose skin was as hard as stone. Even swords were likely to be more damaged striking it than the gargoyle itself. They were trapped between walking corpses and a powerful magical construct.

A magical construct.. In her head, pieces began falling into place, and a plan came together. "Alexander!" She said, looking to her companions, "Try and shoot down those undead before they get to the top of the hill. Erasmus, Maher, you're both trained anti-mages, aren't you?" She pointed to the gargoyle, "It was magic that made that thing. Unmake it."

Turning back to the gargoyle, she began moving forward. "Try and surround it. Don't let it come for more than one of us as at a time." She raised her voice to catch the attention of her fellow LIverian, "Wren! We'll fight the gargoyle, make sure the undead following us don't get in the way." Commands done, Thailen sheathed her sword and grabbed her whip. It wouldn't damage the gargoyle, but it would give her more reach and let her stay at a safe distance. She would strike for the face, or try and snare a limb and impair the creature's movement.

Aneura Shivan - Carnival of Chaos

Aneura took heed to Cristoff's words, though could see easily with her own eyes that there was a motif to the culprit's strange sense of danger. As far as she could tell, seemingly invisible to the twisted world around the group, they were safe for the moment; the magician wanted them here, and so it was obvious that there would be something he wanted of them. As sick as the carnival was, nothing prepared Aneura for what was to come. It took a moment, but she quickly deduced from the scene before the inn that things would be more than theatrical... they would end up being quite real, despite the illusory nature of it all. As the magician's shadow stepped forth and spoke explained the trick behind the boxes and nooses, her conceptions of the future to come was further cemented. It was all a game. Damn it all.

"Certainly is an interesting idea, I must say, the demon inside her claimed, a tone of voice reflecting the image of contemplation and respect. Aneura saw no such thing, of course. The premise was simple at face value; participate in an activity, and unlock your end of the puzzle. What these 'prizes' were, Aneura did not dare to imagine. And so she attempted to demystify...

"Magician, I hope that through your twisted sense of humor, you do not intend to harm the children should we succeed whilst abiding by your rules," she proclaimed,lacking trust in his motives and words, as any other sane Renaltan would. "The only prize we desire is the freedom of this town, though it might be overly optimistic of me to believe you'd relinquish false power so easily." It was clear in her tone and demeanor that only the most sincere words by this illusionist would leave her satisfied. The fact that this man would do anything like this already spoke words of the honor and trustworthiness he may or may not hold. Being sensible, Aneura expected the latter.

It came time for her to pick an event, and as it turned out, Cristoff elected for the Galerie des Glaces and Tristan to La Galerie Tournage. Ignorant to the language used, she simply choose one that sounded fitting; the Gauntlet de Pendules. 'Gauntlet' of course was a well-known word to her, and if it shared the same meaning, it might be proper for her -likely as the most combat-oriented of the group- to assume its position. Hanus was the only one left to decide, and as the Circ De Cauchemar was the only one left, she assume he would have no complaints.

The positions filled, the group awaited for further instructions by their ringleader.

Carnival of Chaos



"Magician, I hope that through your twisted sense of humor, you do not intend to harm the children should we succeed whilst abiding by your rules," Aneura proclaimed much to the Illusionists Amusement. "The only prize we desire is the freedom of this town, though it might be overly optimistic of me to believe you'd relinquish false power so easily." He cocked his head flamboyantly. His illusion presence flickering from place to place.

"Oh no no no, the fate of the town is already sealed if you fail. I need to no more than I already am. But you don't have all the time in the world. The clock is already ticking." A dozen illusory clocks appeared ticking in sync with one another the thud of the ticking hitting one after the other. The smell of woodsmoke thick in the air from the fireplace. "Indeed. You have ten minutes once the first of you begin your event. From that moment if you fail, if you dally, if you take your time, most of this town will die. Now go, or that dog-faced whore-queen's little niece will get a short drop and a sudden stop."

An illusory map appeared in the air showing a map of the illusion carnival.

To the south was marked the Galerie des Glaces, to the north the Galerie des Tournage, to the East was the Gauntlet des Pendules, to the West the Circ de Cauchemar. The map would be easy to memorise and follow, the pavilions large and obvious, even obnoxiously so.

-------------------

As Tristan headed for the the Galerie des Tournage Cristoff would make his way to the Galerie des Glaces, at the approach he'd see a large striped red and white pavilion through the main entrance a reflective maze of mirrors could be seen on the entrance. The frames of the mirrors seemed distorted, chaotic and distressingly, their reflections were almost warped too. And somehow harder to tell than if they were perfect mirrors.

-------------------

As Aneura headed for the Gauntlet Des Pendules Hanus headed for the Circ des Cauchemar. Aneura would find the way mostly clear, but always there was a Crow nearby watching. The Gauntlet's Pavilion was large and made of what appeared to be midnight black silk. The interior appeared lit only by torches spaced every eight paces or so. The entrance provided such a poor sight into it that Aneura almost missed it. With a whoosing sound something moved past light flickering off of a blade that moved through the air visible for only a moment before it vanished back into the dark. Followed by another and another. Looking hard Aneura could see that the Gauntlet branched out some distance into the pavilion.

First Blow

---

The ascent had been somewhat tougher than Erasmus had expected; the ground was soft and gave way under foot as if trying to drag the trespassers above down into its mushy embrace. This had amplified the effort to climb the slope from meagre to somewhat damaging and Erasmus heaved in the air, slowly and deeply to return his breath before the crest revealed its deadly secret. There, amongst a scene of death and destruction, fluttered a gargoyle, something he’d only heard myths and legend about. Every story he’d heard, being nothing more than folktales in backwater pubs were of countless slain for no return when fighting a gargoyle. Blade and axes were said to shatter on the beast’s back and hammers to simply bounce off; they were truly a dread to behold.

It showed an utter disdain for its combatants; a pleasure in suffering as evident by the broken body of the blonde Liverian witch-hunter who was tethered to a blasted oak tree with fatal purpose. He was almost a touch relieved to see someone who resembled the vague description they’d been given of Wren desperately keeping her distance from the creature it faced. The voice that it emitted, a raspy voice that bore the aural texture of rough leather, grating on the nerves of those who beheld it. It sought their skin yet the gargoyle would not find that to be an easy task.

Whereas most men’s heart would descend to the dank depths of despair over such a beast, there was something Erasmus had that no other man did. He’d fought a few magical constructs in his time with the Templars, they’d even formed a special strike team to use his talents against such beings. From the practical experience he’d had, when he got closer to a being they found themselves weaker, their strength drained and the magical threads that held them being shredded away. Whilst not as effective as a direct bolt of anti-magic, it seemed to have a constant effect on them; oft turning into a battle of attrition against them rather than an execution. Thailen had wasted no time in issuing commands; she’d seemingly desired to take command of the group despite no prior instruction so that Erasmus had heard at least.

He had no problem with the matter, as long as she made reasonable decisions and despite the indomitable threat facing them, this decision seemed like bearing a chance of success. Yet she showed a distinct lack of knowledge when she suggested casting anti-magic at it from here; it wasn’t ignorance just a lack of understanding. He took the chance to speak up and informed her “An anti-mage? No, I am not of the traditional kind. To cut it short, being close to me suppresses magic, Maher here would be incapable of casting a spell this close to me” illustrating the closeness with a quick gesture. “So if you want him to cast any magic he’s going to have to go on the opposite side from me and stay as far away as possible. The closer he is, the weaker he’ll be. But we have little time for semantics, I’ll take left, Maher right and Thalien centre?” he asked with a final query and placed his sword point first into the ground. He ignored any looks his companions may have thrown at him and removed the pendant from his neck and attached it to the steel handles of his shield.

The pendant almost shined with an unearthly glow as it came into contact with the metal handles; the pendant was a conduit of sort for his anti-magic, an old artefact uncovered by the Templars that had resonated with him. Smiling with a grim purpose he drew his sword out of the boggy ground with a sickening squish and rolled his shoulders over, loosening them for the coming battle. His main aim here would be to bash the creature as much he could with the shield; the pendant should carry some of the anti-magic flowing from him onto the beast, hopefully inflicting more magical damage. At least that’d how it’d worked when he’d fought the golem but that had been a construct of far simpler origins and forged by the skills of an apprentice not the master this lich seemingly was.

"Let us see if you live up to expectations." -Sarah Darkhammer, Page 1.

Royal Blood

Rayne Walker's comments elicited a great deal of distrust from Xavier. At a glance one could be forgiven for mistaking such a look as having a murderous intent. Instead, he takes a deep breath, and looks Rayne dead in the eyes. "I'll be sure to keep my daughter safe... Just as soon as you leave." Perhaps it wasn't best to implicate the victim's daughter of anything to a man who was likely distraught by the situation... And, notable, distrustful of foreigners... As well, Penelope noticed the distrust from Rayne, and immediately looked down at her feet. Her hands come together nervously over her thighs as she recoils back into her traumatized shell.

Mikan smiled upon hearing Ceann's suggestion to split up. There was a hint of nostalgia in that smile. "Oh boy! I'll just wait to see how all of this turns out before deciding who needs my help more!" She giggles playfully, though the forewarning of the potential attack on Kouri was still concerning her. One could almost mistake a deep sense of care for the situation from the way her eyes kept moving to the door.

Penelope looked up at Auric when he told Rayne to slow down. A faint smile managed to reach her lips before she looked back down to her hands, which seemed a little more relaxed now. She murmured quietly enough that others would have to strain to hear the words. "My hero..." Xavier also seemed to relax at the sight of his daughter feeling better, and looks to Auric, nodding appreciatively as any concerned father would before responding to his question. "Light illuminating the rune will activate it, followed up with a vocalized or telepathic command." That answer held implications that Xavier didn't seem to mind sharing at this point in time.

Xavier's good mood seemed to help as Jason Drake responded to him. Instead of further annoyance, Xavier merely listened, not showing any further hint of emotion. There was nothing much for him to reply to that the others had not already stated, thus, Xavier said nothing.

It was Rayvon's comment of wandering the city she once called home that caught his attention. The outcast and a foreigner wandering the streets? Safe? He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the mere thought of such a ludicrous proposition. "If you think it will help the investigation, I will order my men already looking for further evidence to continue their search intently." He seems to pause for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought he looks at Penelope who still seemed rather comatose. "While out, go see a wizard named Venidrus. Her place is hard to miss, it is covered in bits and pieces of inanimate Gargoyles, south eastern part of the city... She might help enlighten you as to the nature of the magic used, and being somewhat of an outcast herself, surely, the two of you will get along quite well, angel-kin." Xavier did not appear to hold any love for Rayvon, but, on the other hand, where most would openly disdain her existence, he seemed to treat her the same way he treated most people: Coldly.

Thus it was that their plans were set.

Mikan quietly shuffles out of her seat and stretches for a moment before looking at the armed men, then at Rayvon and Ceann. To her, it was obvious which group needed help more. "I guess I will make this a girl's only club." She smiles, a bounce in her step as she looks back at Xavier, who nods to her. The two had some kind of past. That was for sure.

Xavier slowly stands up as well with a sigh, he didn't enjoy the presence of foreigners in an internal affair, but at least he tolerated them. "Now I must attend to my personal adviser's wishes." With that said, Penelope snapped out of her dazed state to glare at her father. "You keep her around even now?..." Xavier glares back at his daughter. "Silence is a virtue in front of guests, Penelope... Please do not start this here." Penelope rolls her eyes and shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest. Even dealing with severe trauma, she was still young, after all. Xavier quietly retreats from the room after that, leaving just Mikan, Penelope, and the rest of the group, and whatever other hidden defenses were in the room.

---

The Hunt for Diana

"Hmph!" Stotgar puffed his chest out at the elf's rhetorical statement. "Mindflayers. Bahh! They cannae' do anything if ye got a helmet." A little bit of his ancestral heritage slipped into his speech patterns at that point. Was that a sign that he was more comfortable or more careless? Who knew. The Dwarf, though, pulled out a large crossbow from off of his back. A cautious look would reveal that he also had a small axe. A wonderful assortment of killing weaponry. "One ole' song from Matilda here and the poor ole' squids'll crawl right back in the dark to their fat mudders! HA!"

Nadira, on the other hand, seemed quite perturbed with the situation, and this led Stotgar to her side almost like a loyal puppy. "Dun' let the dark in yer eyes, under the ground is where my people live! When we're all through with this mess I'll show you to a nice dwarven bar, and get ye some ale, n'--" The orange man steps in, finally, shoving a torch into the dwarf's beard. "That's enough Stotgar." He mutters as he carelessly hands another one to Nadira. He then turns to Mathew, and gently hands him a torch. "You and I are unique in a world full of normals... Stay safe." He was likely referring to the both of them being telepathic.

Stotgar arms 'Matilda' with a large bolt with a vial on the end of it instead of a regular sharp tip, and grins mischievously, revealing a set of yellowed, crooked teeth. "I'll lead the way madam! I can see further in the dark than anyone here can." With that said, he moves into the darkness. The man in orange would likely stay between Nadira and Mathew, his torch lit.

Descending into the tunnel would quickly reveal a large cavern, hundreds of feet in size. How the desert didn't collapse in on it was an honestly good question and one that might be resolved by asking an archeologist or a member of the Mage's Guild, but, nonetheless, neither were on hand... Stotgar sniffs the air, then looks around. There were three passages they could travel down. One passage to the left radiated a little heat. A second passage, to the right, radiated a little cold. The one down the middle smelled wonderful, like roses, even, and Stotgar chuckled. "The middle one is definitely a trap... Should we spring it?" He says almost with glee as the man in orange shakes his head. "The path to the left would be quickest, but there are dragon spawn there, trapped and warped by madness from having never seen the sky... The middle is a path none dare to tread, we have seen magics like that before, there are tales that Queen Kouri even once faced such a threat and only narrowly escaped... The path to the right..." He narrows his eyes at the path. "...I've never seen that path before. It must be recent."

The decision, thus, rested with the party... Which dangers would they face: The fastest path of fire, the dangerous path that none dare to tread, or the unknown trail...

Naream clacked with his tongue when he saw one wight being shoved over the side and fall to it's doom, what was more annoying was that he would not be able to salvage the wight, ah well plenty of spare materials in his master's laboratory that he had access to. He was resisting the urge to order his wights to crush the life out of the still struggling Dwarves however, but he resisted the urge and turned to his companions, ignoring the Dwarves still repeating the same words, the same warning. "Well, now that they are subdued, I am included to have my minions knock them out and have them tied up somehow so they can't trouble us, unless one of you have other ideas? Questioning while they are under the control of someone or something might be difficult, though I am perfectly willing to slit their throats and use my necromancy to see if their spirits have anything interesting to tell us, I have some refined methods to extract information from spirits and souls. Granted I don't believe they are tested on Dwarves but I am eager to make the attempt." He said with pure academic interest then looked at the expressions of his companions and frowned. "Though maybe you all have better ideas, I shall just instruct my minions to keep them down for the moment."

He took a few steps back, keeping his concentration on his minions to keep the struggling Dwarves in place. While idly wondering what kind of experience and knowledge he could gain from dissecting a Dwarf corpse and see how strong their dense bone structure could make wights, perhaps the Dwarves could 'accidentally' be killed, something to consider.

Royal Blood

Auric couldn't help but tense up a bit when he heard Xavier chastise Rayne. For a second he thought for sure they'd all be thrown out, but fortunately it seemed his own words had calmed Penelope down, and in turn Xavier. He relaxed a bit as Xavier replied to all of the remaining questions.

Xavier said
"Light illuminating the rune will activate it, followed up with a vocalized or telepathic command."

He was a bit mystified by this answer, as it didn't seem to actually answer the question. He was asking for answers as to where the king was supposed to get the torch to burn the rug and things like that. But thinking on it more, he decided not to press the matter, after all Rayne had done a particularly good job of ticking off Xavier, so maybe he was just not wanting to divulge more information? Regardless, Auric thought that this whole defensive system was rather bizarre. From what he was hearing, someone getting attacked would have to find a torch (or take the time to cast fire magic), wait for the carpet to burn away, then issue a command to the gargoyles to kill off the intruder. In that amount of time any well trained archer could've put plenty of arrows into him, even if the victim was in the perfect spot for such a thing.

It was while he was thinking of these things that Xavier decided to leave. Auric couldn't help but softly breath a sigh of relief that the king had not thrown them out or worse. Still, their conversation piqued his interest.

Xavier slowly stands up as well with a sigh, he didn't enjoy the presence of foreigners in an internal affair, but at least he tolerated them. "Now I must attend to my personal adviser's wishes." With that said, Penelope snapped out of her dazed state to glare at her father. "You keep her around even now?..." Xavier glares back at his daughter. "Silence is a virtue in front of guests, Penelope... Please do not start this here."

An adviser? It would be rather silly if indeed the adviser did turn out to be the cause of this mess, although right from the get go he felt something amiss. First of all, why would the crown-prince care about what the adviser wants? True, it is a good idea for leaders to seek out good counsel, but the language of Xavier's sentence there stuck him as odd. Shouldn't the adviser be attending to the king's wishes? The other thing that seemed a bit suspicious was that Penelope sounded majorly distrustful of this adviser, enough so that she temporarily broke out of her daze to protest. A theory formed in Auric's mind that perhaps this adviser was somehow connected to this, most likely the mastermind of the whole operation. Naturally they would need to gather a good bit of evidence to prove this, but Auric's mind turned to this mysterious adviser as a prime suspect.

At any rate, they weren't going to get many answers by just sitting here and forming ideas, he thought. He shuffled in his seat a bit, clearly anxious to start heading for the shop. Before he wanted to go, he decided to ask Penelope one last question. Turning his attention towards Penelope, he said in a gentle tone "Adviser? Pray tell, who exactly is this adviser?"

Penelope looks at Auric, her eyes were mixed with feelings of appreciation towards him and sorrow, even some anger, at the mention of the adviser. "A woman who appeared mysteriously a month ago... Her name is Mauvais. She says she was born here... I doubt it." She hesitates a moment, then steps out of her chair. "Can I... Come with you? I'd rather not be alone... Right now... And this place is not a home right now..."

Auric was taken a bit off guard by the princess's second question. His first instinct told him no, she would be far safer in the castle. Then he went over reasons to let her come along with them, she could get the party out of a nasty scrape with the locals, and possibly (though admittedly this was quite a risky prospect) lure the assassin over to them. Still, if she was taken down during the investigation, the whole mission would collapse on top of itself. Lacking any clear idea, he said "Hmm..." He did this primarily to buy time to gauge the reaction of his comrades before making any hasty decisions.

Here Cometh the Wolves

---

The Guard Post

Bastian and Rhia's tails flick agitatedly at the lack of communication with them as Saul makes his exit in a huff, Rexel close behind. “Sssissster, they are doing little in the ways of investigation and more towards dessssecrating the dead and encouraging rudenessss from the captain,” Bastian hisses, watching Jellial.

Rhia seems dazed, or at least lost in thought as she stares after Jellial before shaking a frilled head, “No, brother, they do what they mussst. At leassst the large fleshy one ssspringsss to action?” A low grinding rattle comes from Bastian before Rhia pats the crest of his head, “Ssstill brother, perhapsss you can lead the night huntresssss and ranger to the good doctor...”



Bastian lets out a huff of breath from his snout, eying Jellial and the woman suggesting he not be half-naked. “You are ssstrange people. Tuleria is hot land. You dressss in layer upon layer at home, but here that could mean death.” He taps his light breastplate, being the only thing on his torso aside from scaled flesh. “Even your armour is heavy and too hot. I do not know how you move!” he laughs, while Shia seems to loose a gurgling chuckle, the closest she can produce.

“Brother has a point, if you are concerned of appearance, mayhapsss you ought look outssside once more? Tuleria is a land of many, there is little to sssurprise usss,” she says almost with pride, lizard lips curling ever so faintly. She stops, realizing Esyllt did not seem to be entirely with them, before clicking clawed fingers before the woman's face, “Wake up, wake up. There is a killer to catch.” Esyllt's vision ends and she will become aware of what was happening once more.

Meanwhile, James clears his throat, “I think I will be best from above. A lot of the buildings have flat tops. If we stay away from rich estates, I could be your shadow, Laenaia, and keep anyone from sneaking up on you.” The male guard nods, “I welcome a King's Ranger. The Hell Hound leadsss them now, I hear... I will lead you, night huntresss.”

Shria flashes a sharp-fanged smile, “If you would have me, I would join you in your investigation, Jellial.”

***

Saul - Clan H'risshrii

As Saul and Rexel make their way to the home of the lizard tribesman, they notice the transition from the mixed culture to a single one... Where houses were even erects, some seemed lucky to even have walls, leave alone a roof. Many seem to have resorted to implementing great canopies of brightly coloured fabric to block out the sun. Tassled tribework hangings of beads, furs, fabrics and various predatory animal parts hang in decoration and as identifiers. One such identifier, Rexel spies and appears to hustle his step, encouraging Saul along. “Mankiller,” he mutters as if by way of explanation. As Saul looks back, he would see a number of a great number of teeth, human teeth now that he was paying attention, dangling with one of the banners. “One for every victim,” he explains, eyes darting around. It seemed like the Captain of the guards really was uncomfortable here. “Al ot of them, they get in their military career. Foot soldiers, navy men, what do we care if they take a little token?... Some of these guys, though... Well, a lot who come here looking for trouble, and a few who don't... They don't make it back.”

As if by way of explanation, a lizard makes a lazy swipe with claws at Rexel, before bursting into laughter as he jumps away. “Look, just keep your head down, and stay on the main street. They're a little more hospitable if they don't feel like you're snooping in on their territory.”

Keeping to the main streetway, they make it to what seemed like the only truly solid architecture of the area. A great mural decorates the front wall, depicting scenes of epic battles, hunts, ancestral legends and more. A depiction of what great accomplishments members of the tribe had been a part of. At the front entrance, a number of lizardfolk sunbathe, some even appear to be sleeping. Rexel moves to the entrance, only to be barred be two spears lazily shifted threateningly in the way. “Ssssmoothsskin know rule... Only blood and invited may enter,” one drawls out, not even opening an eye. This close, Saul would be able to notice many of the lizardfolks have forked tongues wagging out every so often, testing the air. It would seem far more are aware than they were making it appear.