Location: Hdur, Kindeance.
This was a disaster.Veronica forced herself to stow the unproductive thought, as she strode beside Anderson, loyal squire of the Head of Guard. Even so, for those familiar with her, the unnervingly extended quiet that had been shared for most of the hurried journey to the humble village of Hdur was all her companion might need to discern the tension within her. The Capitol they had left was in a right state of chaos. Though the Guard had done well in their efforts to quell the worst of the public unease, three fiery bombings upon prominent Guild warehouses had both civilian and merchant alike in a tizzy... to say nothing of the aggrieved party, the Black Serpent Guild.
Oh, and don't even get her
started on the Delvings and the rest of the Noble court! Rumor had it that the bloody
Royal Tutor had assaulted Aaron Delving and his guards completely unprovoked in his office. Luckily, the elder Delving, Admiral Silas, had been there to put a stop to the foolishness at hand, and somehow, Henri had not been arrested on the spot. If that were all, it would have been one thing... but what Henri had been pursuing in their less than amicable discussion... Well, the rumors were wild, but Veronica had heard several truths, truths that she knew for a fact should not have been available to the public forum. And so did the King.
Fredricus was
furious, and frankly, for her own part, Veronica was nearly as much so. All of her work to fly under the radar. All her efforts to be discreet, to uncover the Prince's location. All of it might have been for nothing.
As it turned out, Henri was another member of the off-the-record team Veronica been too late to join from the get-go... and she was starting to wonder if that wasn't a good thing. Not more than a day hence, and one of the mission's core objectives was compromised, inexorably so. It wasn't necessarily that the Delvings couldn't be trusted. After all, Admiral Silas and his family had served in an exemplary and loyal manner for many years. But it was simply the principle of the matter. The Prince's abduction and a nearly successful assassination attempt on the Crown itself were cause for unusual means and assumptions in these troubling times... Rather, that Veronica's Lord King would send for someone-
something like her to aid him in such a personal and national matter truly spoke of the desperation at hand.
The situation was a disaster. The Delvings had obviously brought their alarming findings to the public forum, and the other nobles now clamored for answers. Fredricus had denied the claims, but the nobles had demanded proof... proof the King did not have. He had claimed the Prince was in a safehouse a fair distance away after the inciting incident and would need several days to be called back to the Capitol. All in all, the summit had ended with the promise to send for the prince at once, and the nobles had dispersed, dissatisfied but mollified... for now. It was half-assed bandage over a festering wound at this point.
Whatever narrow time limit they had been on just got a whole lot narrower... as had the King's patience. Veronica, personally, wasn't particularly worried on her own behalf... insofar as her own culpability in the present fanned flames of the crises... which was to say, no culpability at all. Between herself and Anderson, they had gotten results, and all that was left was to corroborate with the rest of Matilda's charges. Indeed, Veronica wasn't worried that she would be held culpable for the chaos; her end of the mission had gone the closest thing to flawless as it could have, given the circumstances. No, for the young vampire, the true worry was the stability of the kingdom and safety of the royal lineage that had so graciously offered her a chance to prove herself. It was for the King, whom she worried, surrounded on all sides by schemers and possible traitors. It was for the guiltless young prince she worried, whose life may very well be in greater danger should his kidnappers have been alerted to the existence of the investigation.
The only grace to be found was that... well, that was what they were here to meet Matilda's team about.
There was no time to waste. The fate of Kindeance was in the balance.
It almost felt like she was walking underwater. Not in a physical sense, nor really the sense that she was actually hindered in her movements, but as the noonday sun glared down from above, Veronica mercifully found herself free of its baleful vengeance. Sometimes, she found herself seeing her magic as a mixed blessing. In many ways, it was responsible for her life being ruined, for her death... or undeath as it were. In others, it was the only reason she could live anything close to a normal life at all... the only reason she was even free and beholden to herself to begin with. Shaking her head, Veronica tugged her simple brown cloak a bit tighter, almond-shaped pupils peering about at the bustling village.
It wasn't a large place, Hdur. It was the sort of place where just about everyone was as liable to know everyone else, tight knit, localized. And a bit of risky place to be to avoid attention. The concept of "fading into the crowd" might as well have not existed around these parts, so the less of a show they gave the locals, the less likely the mission's operational security would be even more devastated than it already was. Between herself and Anderson, Veronica was sure they already were quite the pair. One clad in armor and exemplifying the Royal Guard. And the other cloaked and concealed, aside from glints of steel and flashes of velvety red and black fabrics.
Even going to the effort of donning a cloak, even were she to have changed into something even less conspicuous, Veronica knew it would have done little good the moment someone caught a glimpse of her eyes. She'd long-since given up trying to appear normal. If anything, in her experience, the more you tried to hide, the more people seemed to sense it and want to find out more about you. Thus, "refuge in audacity" had become her staple, and it was only that the situation was presently so dire that she bothered to do anything differently here and now.
A seemingly nameless inn and a local bakery crested into sight, as the two travelers made haste without hurrying... if that made any sense... towards where they were to rendezvous with the erstwhile black ops team of their Majesty's conception. Veronica's fists tightened minutely atop the handles of her sheathed sai daggers, resisting the urge to twist her expression into a snarl of ire at what might lay beyond. Forcibly relaxing herself, she shoved down the call for bloody violence and placed aside the impulse to execute the Royal Tutor for treason the moment she laid eyes on him. It wasn't like it would have brought her much satisfaction in a practical sense anyway. She'd never found herself hungry in his presence, so she was somehow certain that,
whatever he was... he probably didn't bleed. Not exactly her idea of an ideal opponent.
Speaking of bleeding... Veronica gave a couple audible sniffs of the air, as she and Anderson neared the inn. The smell of breadstuffs filled the air in accompaniment to many an equally appetizing scent... but there was a far more delectable aroma on the wind. Not even hours old. Hell, maybe not even minutes old. It was nearly overpowered by an array of medicinal scents, but there was no mistaking that which her body craved more than life itself.
Veronica gave a couple more audible sniffs, her eyes darting to Anderson. They'd worked well enough together on the occasion over the years, and in that time, Veronica had developed an array of signals to her closer comrades. Any that knew her mannerisms well, knew that she didn't make unnecessary efforts, and noisy breaths were certainly one of them. It was as good a signal as any, a simple and concise one to convey to her allies.
Blood had been shed."After you, milady."Briefly schooling her expression into an almost girlishly vapid one not dissimilar to a spoiled noble girl, Veronica rolled her eyes playfully at the squire opening the inn door for her, the delicious scent of sanguine essence billowing out from within.
"Many thanks, Ser~." Obligingly, she smiled without teeth, the corners of her eyes crinkling in mirth, as she acquiesced to his prompt and stepped inside the establishment.
Initial impressions of the sorry band? Not great. Crimson eyes panned across the room, taking in the battered state of half the occupants. The smell of blood was tantalizingly thick in the air, and Veronica had to swallow back the light burn in her throat, drifting away from the immediate conversation to moderately discreetly draw forth one of her waterskins and take a swig of the glorious nectar within. Tongue flicking across pale lips to catch any lingering droplets, Veronica swallowed thickly, the burn doused, and replaced her waterskin at her hip.
The distraction of her Thirst -that she hadn't noticed building- now kept at bay, Veronica's slitted eyes returned to those present. She resisted frowning. The faces she was seeing weren't all in alignment with what Anderson had told her to expect. The blonde elf, the cloaked shadow of a man, the ronin Samurai, and the runaway noblewoman were present... but the royal guardsman was new... along with three other unknowns at their own table, one of whom might have been napping if the sound of his breathing patterns was any clue. Veronica's eyes narrowed. What little secrecy they had left was paramount. She had nothing against this guard or these possible civilians in particular. Perhaps they were even valuable witnesses, but if they weren't... The pale girl shook her head lightly. Killing any of them would likely serve no purpose at this stage, not with the Capitol in such a state as it was.
As Ser Anderson and Lady Rosenving exchanged pleasantries, Veronica set to a small task of her own. Relatively unhurried, she passed by each of the large windows that were set into the front of the building and presently letting in a healthy breeze and beams of sunlight, and she began firmly closing the shutters of each in turn and untying the curtains, drawing them across the windows and casting the living area into comparatively muddled shades of candlelight. Letting out a small sigh of relief, Veronica finally released her magic, rolling her shoulders, as the watery sensation slid from her body.
Her ears perked up at the steady thudding of an armored figure descending the stairs into the common room, and Veronica felt a genuine smile finally slide into place across her lips. Striding forward to stand next to Anderson once more, the pale girl favored the Head of the Royal Guard, Matilda, with a nod and a brief, small crease of the waist, hands clasped behind her back.
"A bird, ma'am? If you don't mind it arriving slower I'm sure I can deliver a message with less risk." He gestured to the vampire that came with him.
"I brought lady Veronica, she arrived earlier this morning. Aside from that, there's some words from the king. Is it secure to speak here?"Veronica only smiled knowingly, barely more than the slightest upturn of the corner of her lips, one she didn't bother to conceal from the black knight with a mirthful eye squint to accompany it. There was no need at this moment to correct the squire about just how long a vampire had actually gone unchecked within the very castle walls themselves before she had deemed her end of the investigation sufficiently explored enough to present findings to another involved and sanctioned party.
"Dame Matilda," she greeted with her usual close-mouthed smile,
"were it only that we should reunite under kinder circumstances." She shook her head in a show of disappointment, ebony waves of hair swaying about her chin.
"One of these days, surely, we shall meet outside the eve of violence."Quickly, however, her tone and demeanor sobered, her arms folding across her ample chest.
"However, today is unfortunately not one such day." She nodded at Anderson.
"We bring ill news from the Capitol. Any measure of security we can afford, no matter how small, is paramount at this juncture." Her crimson eyes drifted towards the others occupying the commons, particularly the seemingly random presence of a guardsman... and three other unknown men occupying their own table, almond-shaped pupils briefly narrowing to nearly paper-thin slits.