The Phoenix League [IC/Low Fantasy/Semi-Sandbox/OPEN]

[Galnius]

Lev watched the room slowly filling with phoenixes, a weird mixed bag of people , each one unique in its own way.
Some wore their uniqueness on their skin, exposed for the whole world to see like Shadow the young alchemite girl with reptilian traits, or Alienor, with her bizarre pointy ears. He observed them discretely, still slightly unused to be so close to alchemites. He had learned about them in Ussara, of course, but he actually met one before coming into the league. They usually were not welcome in the places of power.

Others carried their uniqueness within. Like Kaga, the girl from Cathay. Lev saw her becoming increasingly unnerved as people began to fill the room, clenching her fists and babbling when Idza( at least he tought she was Idza, from her limp) started talking to her.

That girl sure has baggage… perhaps I should have a rat follow her, she may reveal something interesting. He made a mental note for himself. Sure, spying on what were technically his allies was not something many would consider morally correct, but old habits die hard.

Then, subtle as a forest fire, Ezekiel arrived in the room. He was one of the few people Lev could understand in there. It’s not that he was simple or (he smirked at the absurdity of that thought) trustworthy, but his own compulsive lies made Lev at ease. At least he didn’t pretend to be honest and that made him, weird as it sounds, one of the most honest persons in the room from Lev’s viewpoint.

Also, he was cute.

Then, for no apparent reason, he pulled out a lute and started to play. He was a good player and Lev never heard that particular melody, so he walked closer to hear better. Then when Ezekiel finished to play it he spoke” Good job Ezekiel. I never heard you playing the lute before, you are very good. Where did you learn?”

Having an audience, no matter how petite, always made Ezekiel play with more vigour, though pretended not to notice he was being watched. When he concluded, he made a dramatic jump, as if startled. "Why, the Ussaran Magus finally wishes to grace himself with my presence." Grinning, Ezekiel placed the instrument in a sort of sheath on his back. "You had never heard The Tale of Lord McCalous? I can understand that. Old tune, can't remember the words. It was the first song I ever learned. My father taught me, used to charm and woo all those whose hearts are open and minds are free. That tells good things about your heart and mind, that you stopped to listen. Of course, one could expect nothing less from nobles like us, eh?"

[Houyhnhnm Cities]

Having an audience, no matter how petite, always made Ezekiel play with more vigour, though pretended not to notice he was being watched. When he concluded, he made a dramatic jump, as if startled. "Why, the Ussaran Magus finally wishes to grace himself with my presence." Grinning, Ezekiel placed the instrument in a sort of sheath on his back. "You had never heard The Tale of Lord McCalous? I can understand that. Old tune, can't remember the words. It was the first song I ever learned. My father taught me, used to charm and woo all those whose hearts are open and minds are free. That tells good things about your heart and mind, that you stopped to listen. Of course, one could expect nothing less from nobles like us, eh?"

Noble uh? Yeah, sure let’s roll with it. “You are right indeed. Sadly music was one of the few things in Ussara that I envied the commoners. Not much time to attend for music when you are busy learning how to deal with other pretentious windbags without hurting their precious ego right? Oh, but you sure know that already. But apparently Avalonian nobles are have a more flexible education then mine right? He said with the most innocent smile, the undertones of his speech in striking contrast with his peaceful face and relaxed body language.

[Galnius]

Having an audience, no matter how petite, always made Ezekiel play with more vigour, though pretended not to notice he was being watched. When he concluded, he made a dramatic jump, as if startled. "Why, the Ussaran Magus finally wishes to grace himself with my presence." Grinning, Ezekiel placed the instrument in a sort of sheath on his back. "You had never heard The Tale of Lord McCalous? I can understand that. Old tune, can't remember the words. It was the first song I ever learned. My father taught me, used to charm and woo all those whose hearts are open and minds are free. That tells good things about your heart and mind, that you stopped to listen. Of course, one could expect nothing less from nobles like us, eh?"

Noble uh? Yeah, sure let’s roll with it. “You are right indeed. Sadly music was one of the few things in Ussara that I envied the commoners. Not much time to attend for music when you are busy learning how to deal with other pretentious windbags without hurting their precious ego right? Oh, but you sure know that already. But apparently Avalonian nobles are have a more flexible education then mine right? He said with the most innocent smile, the undertones of his speech in striking contrast with his peaceful face and relaxed body language.

Ezeki chuckled at Lev's speech, shaking his head. "I am hardly an heir. In fact, my ties to the family are from my grandfather whom disappeared. He had a daughter. The daughter had me. All wed, of course. In other words, I am from a lesser branch. We learn fencing and the arts. People like yourself learn war and diplomacy. Personally, I prefer mine."

Ezekiel stretched his arms, yawning widely. "So, if you have not heard me play, you must never have heard me sing, nor been on a mission with me. This brings a semi -related question. What do you do here again?" Raising an eyebrow, Ezekiel opened his mental files, or what one would call them if they weren't so scattered. "I cant recall. I know someone has told me.... but I can't... seem...to put my finger on it. Also, where is Seeker? Or anyone I can give my marble to..."

[The United Equstrian Front]

After some time of visiting orphanages and crematories Aluric Van Huntson left to the Citadel and walked through the cavernous halls to his horse and buggy in the stables. His horse was in the last stall and looked healthy he smiled and patted it's head and grabbed a carrot from a nearby bucket and feed it to Jack the Horse,
"Sorry if I don't visit to much Jack but I'm needed in the Archives." After that Aluric left the stables and jogged to a set of stairs leading to the Archives. After getting there he walked to a set of shadows and surveyed the dusty old room and waited for more of the League to get there.

[Houyhnhnm Cities]

"Me? Oh I’m just a diplomat. I put my experience in dealing with nobles at the service of the League. Also, my talents really help in discovering juicy and well hidden secrets. When I say that a little bird told me, I mean it." He said with a wink. "I know, it’s not as exciting as charming your way into dangerous situations to discover ancient artifacts but hey, to each his own right? "Then, when he hears the second question he pondered it for a while before answering “the Seeker? I’m sorry but I didn’t saw him recently. Truth to be said, I thought he would already be here. He will probably reach us soon though, after all I’ m sure we were not brought here all together just to chat as pleasant as it may be.”

[Praeceps]

Carl Hassel

It was really quite embarrassing for Carl but he personally felt like it wasn't quite all his fault for his predicament. First off, how was he supposed to know that sound traveled differently underwater?

If that wasn't bad enough, not only was he unable to hear what the message was but even if he had been able to it would have been no aid to him. He had forgotten what each combination of bell signals meant.

As such, Carl decided it best to proceed to Grand Hall, however unsure of exactly what was happening, he decided to grab his rapier and his knife before exiting his room.

He tussled his hair as he walked down the hallways leading to the Grand Hall.

He noticed a lot of people in the Grand Hall as he entered, relieved he look around noticing the distinct lack of adversaries and the somewhat casual air around the other members.

Awkwardly, he stood in the entrance as he wondered what he should go do.

[Doughertania]

Ryker Celtigar, Citadel Grand Hall
Ryker watched the events unfold around him silently, content with watching and waiting. He left the talking to Triss, who was currently talking with Astaric. "An appointment?" Ryker asked skeptically. He wasn't aware that Triss did regular checkups on people.

Triss looked back with a smirk. "Come now Ryker. Just because most of those bloodstains are yours doesn't mean my services are for you alone." Turning back to Astaric, she waved her hand at his apologies. "Don't worry about it. In this place you learn to be flexible or you end up frustrated. Just don't leave me hanging again, or I'll have to punish you for it." He made a comment about not talking about her, to which she shrugged. "What's there to talk about? I haven't had a whole lot to do aside form patch up this oaf, so I'm starting to get antsy. Needless to say I'm excited for the mission to start." She paused as she heard familiar crackling in the air behind Astaric. "But we can talk later. It looks like we're about to begin.

There was a flash of blue light and a loud roaring sound, like a waterfall. A portal opened up, and out stepped the Seeker himself. "I’m sorry to keep you all. I had some…matters of recruitment to attend to.” As he spoke, he slipped the Syrneth sphere he had been carrying into his satchel. For as long as Ryker could remember the Seeker carried the artifact around, but he never disclosed why. Once the orb had been placed inside, a map was drawn out of the bag. As the Seeker unrolled the map onto the table, the Leaguers surrounded the table. Once everyone had taken their place, he began to speak. “There has been a rather disconcerting occurrence in the Castillian city of Aronda. Over the course of 3 months, alchemites have been vanishing over night, seemingly without a trace, and no one seems to know how or why."

Ryker looked up from the map, his mind processing the briefing. "So, how many people are we talking about?”

"Hard to say. We have confirmed reports of twenty, including last week's abduction, although there could be more we don’t know about. But it's not what is happening that concerns me, it's where it's happening.” The Seeker placed another map down on the table, this time of a port city with various circles and scribbles. “Aronda had always been a smugglers paradise. Thanks to it's location near Montaigne and Eisen, the place had it's fair share of blockades and embargoes in wartime. However, rather than listen to the Crown and crack down on those dealing in contraband, the governor at the time found it more beneficial to allow the smuggling trade to continue. Thus started the grand Arondan tradition of mutual beneficial relationships. Sure, the city watch in their yellow jackets will help keep the peace, but so long as the criminals of Aronda leave the nobility and city guardsmen alone, they are allowed a little leeway. It was thanks to this tradition of mutual beneficial relationships that the Promethean's Children turned the place into a bastion for alchemites fleeing the Inquisition."

"Once again, location is important here. With the Inquisition running amok, all manners of people are being persecuted, including alchemites. Thanks to the Church's fear mongering, alchemites have been making a forced migration out of Castille, and that makes Aronda seem very appealing. A port city nearby two countries that are tolerant of them, with a history of smuggling to boot? It's the answer to their prayers. So the Promethean's Children go to the governor and make a deal. They will be a self-sustaining area of the city. They will still pay taxes, but they will build their own homes, police their own streets, care for their own people. In return, the Promethean's Children double as the governor's secret police, enforcing his will and ensuring that no one can touch him. As a result, the alchemites got their own territory and the governor become a wealthier and more powerful man."

Ryker nodded as he took it all in. "So one of the safest places for alchemites is suddenly swallowing them up. It's tragic, sure, but why send all of us instead of just leaving it to Promethean's Children?"

The Seeker turned towards the masked man. “Normally, I’d do just that, but they have been unsuccessful thus far. As for why this is League business, let's just say I'm curious about the whole thing. Now, on to the arrangements." The Seeker pointed to a yellow circle in the center of the map. "You will be staying in the Painted Lady inn. The innkeeper is an old associate of mine, so you won’t have to worry about any sort of unpleasantries while the investigation is ongoing. As per usual, how you conduct your search is up to you, but I do have some suggestions.” The Seeker pointed a finger at the docks, circled in red. “The Aronda docks and the surrounding areas are home to the city’s less then reputable patrons. Gang lords, smugglers, and thieves all hang around those parts; perhaps you’ll find a kidnapper there too.”

The Seeker’s finger then trailed west, until it came upon a second red circle lay. “You may also wish to try Haven. It’s the alchemite section of the city, so you might be able to find some information on those that went missing. It’s also home to a bit of a local celebrity, an alchemist by the name of Miranda Portello.” Ryker watched Triss’s eyes grow wide at the mention of the name. “She was one of Promethean’s pupils, and has dedicated her life to helping alchemites. Currently she is using her talents as healer, as well as administering Promethean’s Elixir to those willing and able.”

“And finally,” He moved his finger until it was in the southern part of the city, where another red circle lay. “This is the governor's palace. Count Alonzo Marquez is known for turning a blind eye to certain immoral parts of his city when it suits him. It’s possible he may have information on this matter. But please, don’t cause any incidences. We don’t need another Carcano.” Ryker elbowed Triss, causing her to stick her tongue out at him. It wasn’t like she meant to kidnap the Governor. The Inheritors were getting away on horseback, so she borrowed a carriage. How was she supposed to know it was Governor’s?

The Seeker ignored the exchange. "Of course, you have every right to not take part in the mission. I know some of you have...mixed feelings about alchemites, and I don't want that compromise the investigation. If there are any questions or misgivings, now is the time to voice them.”

After answering all of the Leaguers’ questions, the group packed their things and made their way to the Citadel’s docks. From there, they sailed to Aronda, and all that lay ahead.

---

Ryker Celtigar, the Painted Lady
The Seeker was right about the accommodations. The inn, while located in the center of town, was out of the way and overshadowed by some of the nearby competition. On top of that, the prices had been temporarily raised, making outside customers scoff at the innkeepers exorbitant prices. As a result, the League got the inn all to themselves.

Ryker was awake and moving about in the common area of the inn, sipping a cup of cider as he waited for the company of others. He talked to most of his fellow members on the ride over, but he still wished to become closer to them. He hoped he would get a chance to do that soon. Meanwhile, Triss was knocking on Mazin's door, hoping to check in on him. She noticed that the Crescent alchemist always seemed to slightly sleep deprived, a dangerous state to be in when dealing with things as sensitive as alchemy. Perhaps there was something she could do to help.

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

Ryker Celtigar, Citadel Grand Hall
Ryker watched the events unfold around him silently, content with watching and waiting. He left the talking to Triss, who was currently talking with Astaric. "An appointment?" Ryker asked skeptically. He wasn't aware that Triss did regular checkups on people.

Triss looked back with a smirk. "Come now Ryker. Just because most of those bloodstains are yours doesn't mean my services are for you alone." Turning back to Astaric, she waved her hand at his apologies. "Don't worry about it. In this place you learn to be flexible or you end up frustrated. Just don't leave me hanging again, or I'll have to punish you for it." He made a comment about not talking about her, to which she shrugged. "What's there to talk about? I haven't had a whole lot to do aside form patch up this oaf, so I'm starting to get antsy. Needless to say I'm excited for the mission to start." She paused as she heard familiar crackling in the air behind Astaric. "But we can talk later. It looks like we're about to begin.

There was a flash of blue light and a loud roaring sound, like a waterfall. A portal opened up, and out stepped the Seeker himself. "I’m sorry to keep you all. I had some…matters of recruitment to attend to.” As he spoke, he slipped the Syrneth sphere he had been carrying into his satchel. For as long as Ryker could remember the Seeker carried the artifact around, but he never disclosed why. Once the orb had been placed inside, a map was drawn out of the bag. As the Seeker unrolled the map onto the table, the Leaguers surrounded the table. Once everyone had taken their place, he began to speak. “There has been a rather disconcerting occurrence in the Castillian city of Aronda. Over the course of 3 months, alchemites have been vanishing over night, seemingly without a trace, and no one seems to know how or why."

Ryker looked up from the map, his mind processing the briefing. "So, how many people are we talking about?”

"Hard to say. We have confirmed reports of twenty, including last week's abduction, although there could be more we don’t know about. But it's not what is happening that concerns me, it's where it's happening.” The Seeker placed another map down on the table, this time of a port city with various circles and scribbles. “Aronda had always been a smugglers paradise. Thanks to it's location near Montaigne and Eisen, the place had it's fair share of blockades and embargoes in wartime. However, rather than listen to the Crown and crack down on those dealing in contraband, the governor at the time found it more beneficial to allow the smuggling trade to continue. Thus started the grand Arondan tradition of mutual beneficial relationships. Sure, the city watch in their yellow jackets will help keep the peace, but so long as the criminals of Aronda leave the nobility and city guardsmen alone, they are allowed a little leeway. It was thanks to this tradition of mutual beneficial relationships that the Promethean's Children turned the place into a bastion for alchemites fleeing the Inquisition."

"Once again, location is important here. With the Inquisition running amok, all manners of people are being persecuted, including alchemites. Thanks to the Church's fear mongering, alchemites have been making a forced migration out of Castille, and that makes Aronda seem very appealing. A port city nearby two countries that are tolerant of them, with a history of smuggling to boot? It's the answer to their prayers. So the Promethean's Children go to the governor and make a deal. They will be a self-sustaining area of the city. They will still pay taxes, but they will build their own homes, police their own streets, care for their own people. In return, the Promethean's Children double as the governor's secret police, enforcing his will and ensuring that no one can touch him. As a result, the alchemites got their own territory and the governor become a wealthier and more powerful man."

Ryker nodded as he took it all in. "So one of the safest places for alchemites is suddenly swallowing them up. It's tragic, sure, but why send all of us instead of just leaving it to Promethean's Children?"

The Seeker turned towards the masked man. “Normally, I’d do just that, but they have been unsuccessful thus far. As for why this is League business, let's just say I'm curious about the whole thing. Now, on to the arrangements." The Seeker pointed to a yellow circle in the center of the map. "You will be staying in the Painted Lady inn. The innkeeper is an old associate of mine, so you won’t have to worry about any sort of unpleasantries while the investigation is ongoing. As per usual, how you conduct your search is up to you, but I do have some suggestions.” The Seeker pointed a finger at the docks, circled in red. “The Aronda docks and the surrounding areas are home to the city’s less then reputable patrons. Gang lords, smugglers, and thieves all hang around those parts; perhaps you’ll find a kidnapper there too.”

The Seeker’s finger then trailed west, until it came upon a second red circle lay. “You may also wish to try Haven. It’s the alchemite section of the city, so you might be able to find some information on those that went missing. It’s also home to a bit of a local celebrity, an alchemist by the name of Miranda Portello.” Ryker watched Triss’s eyes grow wide at the mention of the name. “She was one of Promethean’s pupils, and has dedicated her life to helping alchemites. Currently she is using her talents as healer, as well as administering Promethean’s Elixir to those willing and able.”

“And finally,” He moved his finger until it was in the southern part of the city, where another red circle lay. “This is the governor's palace. Count Alonzo Marquez is known for turning a blind eye to certain immoral parts of his city when it suits him. It’s possible he may have information on this matter. But please, don’t cause any incidences. We don’t need another Carcano.” Ryker elbowed Triss, causing her to stick her tongue out at him. It wasn’t like she meant to kidnap the Governor. The Inheritors were getting away on horseback, so she borrowed a carriage. How was she supposed to know it was Governor’s?

The Seeker ignored the exchange. "Of course, you have every right to not take part in the mission. I know some of you have...mixed feelings about alchemites, and I don't want that compromise the investigation. If there are any questions or misgivings, now is the time to voice them.”

After answering all of the Leaguers’ questions, the group packed their things and made their way to the Citadel’s docks. From there, they sailed to Aronda, and all that lay ahead.

---

Ryker Celtigar, the Painted Lady
The Seeker was right about the accommodations. The inn, while located in the center of town, was out of the way and overshadowed by some of the nearby competition. On top of that, the prices had been temporarily raised, making outside customers scoff at the innkeepers exorbitant prices. As a result, the League got the inn all to themselves.

Ryker was awake and moving about in the common area of the inn, sipping a cup of cider as he waited for the company of others. He talked to most of his fellow members on the ride over, but he still wished to become closer to them. He hoped he would get a chance to do that soon. Meanwhile, Triss was knocking on Mazin's door, hoping to check in on him. She noticed that the Crescent alchemist always seemed to slightly sleep deprived, a dangerous state to be in when dealing with things as sensitive as alchemy. Perhaps there was something she could do to help.

Abu-Bakr Mazin Mikhail
Aronda, The Painted Lady Inn

Mazin was curious about the current mission the League was investigating, which was certainly typical for anyone when it came to this sort of thing. Multiple disappearances of a certain type of people, from a town that should be extremely friendly to them? It was a particularly vexing case, and one that Mazin felt a... Resonance with, due to his feelings about alchemites and prejudice against people in general.

But this resonance did not stop him from asking other questions as well. While the group was making it's way to the intended town, Mazin spent the time given to him by the travel thinking. Why would the Seeker be interested in such events? Sure, they were intriguing to the average person, but Mazin could not see a benefit to the Phoenixes that could be gained by solving it. In fact, the only thing that he saw that could be directly acquired was a detriment, and that was their faces and names becoming more well known throughout Theah. If they solved this predicament, they would probably be praised as heroes by the Children, and given a reward, and their game would spread by smuggler. It would not be very useful for a secret society to have it's supposedly dead members be easily remembered.

That is, if they solved the case.

The Crescent alchemist was also interested in another fact, this one more personal. Another alchemist was in town, one of some renown from Triss's reaction. And she was obviously a very good one, since she could administer the Elixir easily... At least, that was the sense given off by her brief description.

But what would a previous apprentice of Promethean be doing here, in a small smuggler town? Sure, there was a massive Alchemite presence here, but that didn't mean that Miss Portello had any reason to be here. Her work must be demanded from many nobles and organizations from around the world, meaning that she should only be here if she had a strong attachment to the Children. It would make sense, and was of course the most likely reason, but that brought up a question.

Why would they need an alchemist here to help people that are already alchemites?

This entire situation was so intriguing that Mazin was not able to fall asleep that night, and had spent it rather in the company of a few bright candles, some parchment, and a quill, writing down the possible reasons and theories, some being broad conspiracies while others where simple coincidences, for why all these things were happening in the little port of Aronda. It was a nice exercise that kept Mazin's hand moving from dusk till dawn, and kept him awake and as alert as he could be.

So, naturally, when the knocks on his door sounded in the morning, the nearly passed out Mazin jumped slightly in his chair and nearly knocked over a candle. He would have succeeded if not for the fact that it was strongly connected to the table by a base of melted and then reconstituted wax.

The Crescent man opened his door a moment later, the bags under his eyes prevalent due to their darker than average color compared to his caramel colored skin.

"Yes...?" he said, while opening the door. Once he did so fully, and realized who it was that had been knocking, Mazin smiled a little. "Ah, Triss. Did you need something from me?"

[Bycrest]

Ryker Celtigar, Citadel Grand Hall
Ryker watched the events unfold around him silently, content with watching and waiting. He left the talking to Triss, who was currently talking with Astaric. "An appointment?" Ryker asked skeptically. He wasn't aware that Triss did regular checkups on people.

Triss looked back with a smirk. "Come now Ryker. Just because most of those bloodstains are yours doesn't mean my services are for you alone." Turning back to Astaric, she waved her hand at his apologies. "Don't worry about it. In this place you learn to be flexible or you end up frustrated. Just don't leave me hanging again, or I'll have to punish you for it." He made a comment about not talking about her, to which she shrugged. "What's there to talk about? I haven't had a whole lot to do aside form patch up this oaf, so I'm starting to get antsy. Needless to say I'm excited for the mission to start." She paused as she heard familiar crackling in the air behind Astaric. "But we can talk later. It looks like we're about to begin.

There was a flash of blue light and a loud roaring sound, like a waterfall. A portal opened up, and out stepped the Seeker himself. "I’m sorry to keep you all. I had some…matters of recruitment to attend to.” As he spoke, he slipped the Syrneth sphere he had been carrying into his satchel. For as long as Ryker could remember the Seeker carried the artifact around, but he never disclosed why. Once the orb had been placed inside, a map was drawn out of the bag. As the Seeker unrolled the map onto the table, the Leaguers surrounded the table. Once everyone had taken their place, he began to speak. “There has been a rather disconcerting occurrence in the Castillian city of Aronda. Over the course of 3 months, alchemites have been vanishing over night, seemingly without a trace, and no one seems to know how or why."

Ryker looked up from the map, his mind processing the briefing. "So, how many people are we talking about?”

"Hard to say. We have confirmed reports of twenty, including last week's abduction, although there could be more we don’t know about. But it's not what is happening that concerns me, it's where it's happening.” The Seeker placed another map down on the table, this time of a port city with various circles and scribbles. “Aronda had always been a smugglers paradise. Thanks to it's location near Montaigne and Eisen, the place had it's fair share of blockades and embargoes in wartime. However, rather than listen to the Crown and crack down on those dealing in contraband, the governor at the time found it more beneficial to allow the smuggling trade to continue. Thus started the grand Arondan tradition of mutual beneficial relationships. Sure, the city watch in their yellow jackets will help keep the peace, but so long as the criminals of Aronda leave the nobility and city guardsmen alone, they are allowed a little leeway. It was thanks to this tradition of mutual beneficial relationships that the Promethean's Children turned the place into a bastion for alchemites fleeing the Inquisition."

"Once again, location is important here. With the Inquisition running amok, all manners of people are being persecuted, including alchemites. Thanks to the Church's fear mongering, alchemites have been making a forced migration out of Castille, and that makes Aronda seem very appealing. A port city nearby two countries that are tolerant of them, with a history of smuggling to boot? It's the answer to their prayers. So the Promethean's Children go to the governor and make a deal. They will be a self-sustaining area of the city. They will still pay taxes, but they will build their own homes, police their own streets, care for their own people. In return, the Promethean's Children double as the governor's secret police, enforcing his will and ensuring that no one can touch him. As a result, the alchemites got their own territory and the governor become a wealthier and more powerful man."

Ryker nodded as he took it all in. "So one of the safest places for alchemites is suddenly swallowing them up. It's tragic, sure, but why send all of us instead of just leaving it to Promethean's Children?"

The Seeker turned towards the masked man. “Normally, I’d do just that, but they have been unsuccessful thus far. As for why this is League business, let's just say I'm curious about the whole thing. Now, on to the arrangements." The Seeker pointed to a yellow circle in the center of the map. "You will be staying in the Painted Lady inn. The innkeeper is an old associate of mine, so you won’t have to worry about any sort of unpleasantries while the investigation is ongoing. As per usual, how you conduct your search is up to you, but I do have some suggestions.” The Seeker pointed a finger at the docks, circled in red. “The Aronda docks and the surrounding areas are home to the city’s less then reputable patrons. Gang lords, smugglers, and thieves all hang around those parts; perhaps you’ll find a kidnapper there too.”

The Seeker’s finger then trailed west, until it came upon a second red circle lay. “You may also wish to try Haven. It’s the alchemite section of the city, so you might be able to find some information on those that went missing. It’s also home to a bit of a local celebrity, an alchemist by the name of Miranda Portello.” Ryker watched Triss’s eyes grow wide at the mention of the name. “She was one of Promethean’s pupils, and has dedicated her life to helping alchemites. Currently she is using her talents as healer, as well as administering Promethean’s Elixir to those willing and able.”

“And finally,” He moved his finger until it was in the southern part of the city, where another red circle lay. “This is the governor's palace. Count Alonzo Marquez is known for turning a blind eye to certain immoral parts of his city when it suits him. It’s possible he may have information on this matter. But please, don’t cause any incidences. We don’t need another Carcano.” Ryker elbowed Triss, causing her to stick her tongue out at him. It wasn’t like she meant to kidnap the Governor. The Inheritors were getting away on horseback, so she borrowed a carriage. How was she supposed to know it was Governor’s?

The Seeker ignored the exchange. "Of course, you have every right to not take part in the mission. I know some of you have...mixed feelings about alchemites, and I don't want that compromise the investigation. If there are any questions or misgivings, now is the time to voice them.”

After answering all of the Leaguers’ questions, the group packed their things and made their way to the Citadel’s docks. From there, they sailed to Aronda, and all that lay ahead.

---

Ryker Celtigar, the Painted Lady
The Seeker was right about the accommodations. The inn, while located in the center of town, was out of the way and overshadowed by some of the nearby competition. On top of that, the prices had been temporarily raised, making outside customers scoff at the innkeepers exorbitant prices. As a result, the League got the inn all to themselves.

Ryker was awake and moving about in the common area of the inn, sipping a cup of cider as he waited for the company of others. He talked to most of his fellow members on the ride over, but he still wished to become closer to them. He hoped he would get a chance to do that soon. Meanwhile, Triss was knocking on Mazin's door, hoping to check in on him. She noticed that the Crescent alchemist always seemed to slightly sleep deprived, a dangerous state to be in when dealing with things as sensitive as alchemy. Perhaps there was something she could do to help.

Azuma Rinji, the Painted Lady
Rinji had stayed quiet during the briefing, having no real questions about the assignment and was rather indifferent about alchemites so he decided to go. He had been on serval missions during his five years working with the League so he knew he had the option to do as he pleased. However, the thought of someone kidnapping alchemites after they were trying to find a peaceful life did strike at Rinji. He found this act disgraceful and hoped he could find the people responsible, if they got to explain themselves before their deaths was all depending on how Rinji would feel when he met them.

Now he was walking to the common area of the inn, drinking tea and thinking about where he should start his investigation, the governor seemed like a good start. If the man had any decency in him, he would comply with Rinji's inquiry. Rinji's train of thought was interrupted as he noticed Ryker walking around in the common area. "Ah, good morning Ryker. It seems we are the first ones here."

[Yuzhou]

Konrad Solstadt
The Citadel

It took Konrad by surprise when Abraham bet his family sword. An item like that would be considered off the table for most people. The old merchant had a feeling that his friend simply did not share the sentiment...or had nothing else to bet and couldn't resist a gamble. The two shook on it.
They continued with slight conversation.

Little happened between then and when the seeker arrived. More often than not, that was how it was. In the opinion of Solstadt, it was a good sign. Though there was no telling what some of the more experienced league members would say to that.

What did happen was varied. New members arrived in segments. Some Konrad knew or had at least seen before. Like the scarlet haired Voddace man who found his way near him.
Normally, Konrad disliked Voddace as much as the next Vendel, but this one was different from the rest. Solstadt guessed him to be from one of the outer islands and not the mainland. Sure, all Voddace held a liking of intrigue and backstabbing, and this one was probably no different. But, it was the competition of trade and arrogance that offended the Vendel sensibilities, and Solstadt detected neither of those things from this particular young man.

Many of those that came must have been new, for Konrad neither knew them nor had seen them before. According to his memory, at least. He wasn't entirely sure he could trust his memory at this point.

Those who had already been waiting continued about their wait in small talk. Idza and Ezekiel practiced their trades especially. True masters at solving the puzzle that was a silent room. Astonishing.

As for those not being harassed or hawked...they spent their time waiting. Konrad used what bit was left to explain the bet he had running to Aly.

It wasn't long before the seeker finally decided to show. He came via portal, as he always did. Of the few times Konrad saw the event, he had been amazed. Like a child watching a really good magic trick unfold. This time was no different. The idea of their leader arriving through portal added a sense of formality and importance to the group. Konrad liked that feeling. It was one he worked hard to establish in his business.

The seekers instructions were surprising to the Vendel. He didn't expect to be called on a mission such as this. Furthermore, it was at that point clear he had lost his bet. Though, he had to give a quick wink to Aly on such news. Solstadt's wager hadn't been thought it was strategy and such an oversight may have been more intentional than it first seemed.

Ryker was the one to ask questions and lead the gathering of information. That was to be expected. And though the seeker offered everyone the option to stay, Konrad had little better to do. Besides, the whole situation stunk of the inquisition, and that was a particular scent that caused Konrad stomach to churn. There was very few people in the world Solstadt would apply the title of "hate" to. The inquisition was certainly a group who got the whole package.

When all the debriefing was done, Konrad turned to Abraham.
"Well, looks like you've managed to overcome me. And I thought they said you had a habit of losing."

He pulled the newly made ring out of his pocket and faced the winner of it.
"Well, Idza, looks like you walk away with gold instead of steel today. If it doesn't fit now, I can resize it to go on either one of your lovely hands."
He handed it out to her.

---

The Painted Lady

The stairs leading down to the commons creaked loudly as Konrad made his way down them. Every step he took was intentionally as loud as possible. He had always loved the sound of boots on wood.

Below dwelled Ryker and Rinji.
"Morning.", he said arriving at the landing.

The choice of dress for the outing was picked with logic. Naturally, the clothes he wore revealed the status he held before death. That of incredibly rich merchant. Today, considering the location and mission, he figured red would be an appropriate color theme. Outside of that, he wore his dagger tucked snugly into his belt, and his sword to the side. On each hand sat a plethora of rings and stones, and around his neck hung several chains and necklaces.
He sat down and faced Ryker.
"The chances of me getting mugged are nearing satire levels with this set up. At the same time, I can easily play the part of merchant and lord alike. Advantage or disadvantage all depends on situation. I can tone it down by removing all the...glitter, if need be."

He signaled to the nearest keep for a mug of cider for himself.
"Efficiency, friends. Can even be found in the clothes you wear. Now, regardless of what you want me to do, you know Idza is going to stick out where ever she goes. And Ezekiel will cause trouble regardless.", he gave a chuckle.

"Either way, today should be interesting."
He lifted his mug to the two when it arrived and took his first drink.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Suleiman Azhim - The Citadel

Unusually, the sunshine didn't wake him up. As the forests of the Citadel woke up with the sound of the various life forms that inhabited it, Suleiman was still sleeping. The previous days tired him, and he only got proper rest two days ago, when he arrived here.

He had the tendency of doing travels just for the fun, or for the thrill of it. It allowed him to see the changes happening, people calmly leading their everyday lives like there was nothing that could bother them. It helped him to calm his mind, allowed him, for even mere minutes, to appreciate the calm of such places.

But, he knew that life wasn't for him. Certainly it was good to watch, but not to live it. It seemed... full of boredom, and with a distinct lack of will to know the world around them. Maybe they were happy after all, as some people said ignorance is bliss.

When he woke up, he was renewed. He put on his armor, strapped the saber's hilt to his back and carefully concealed the set of the throwing knives under the part of the cloth that rested upon his right shoulder. He stared himself in the mirror, carefully analyzing every aspect of his face: The short, pitch black hair combined with a full beard of the same color made a strange contrast with his eyes, who had pupils like slits. It was his exercise, an effort to find out who he really was. A hypocritical criminal? Someone redeeming himself? Or just another one? It wasn't that morning that he found the answer.

After the briefing at the Great Hall, he finally set off for the Painted Lady.

Suleiman Azhim - The Painted Lady

The inn passed a distinct feeling of a welcoming place to outcasts like him. The innkeeper didn't shout at him, no one picked up a fight, and he managed to sleep without the need of barricading the door, or placing a knife ready for the fight. He woke up, and repeated the same process from before.

He entered the common room of the inn, and carefully took a seat while he waited for something that he didn't exactly knew what it was.

[Galnius]

Ezekiel: Before and After

-snip-

Ezekiel listened to his explanation with mild interest, but was more concerned about the answer to his question. Ah, seems he didn't know either. Ezekiel sighed in disappointment. "That wasn't meant for your role here." He clarified, realizing how it may have we come out. "Without you, I may day of boredom." Then, all of the sudden, a portal was opened. "Ah, THERE'S Seeker!" He said, clapping Lev on the back. "Come, let's see what this is all about.

______________________________

The carriage ride was uneventful for Ezekiel. For those who hadn't travelled with him prior to this, his astute silence may have shocked them. However, he was simply watching the trees go past, the hills roll on, and the birds flying without a care. Travelling was...peaceful for him. He memorized landscapes, thought about reaching the skies, and longed for the journey after it's end.

Unlike most, whom checked in right away, Ezekiel first did a little shopping. Clothing shopping, to be exact. Were one to watch him, they would think it odd that all he bought was women's casual clothing. They weren't of any quality, either.

Here's the After I was talking about

Ezekiel was up bright and early. He lightened his hair, darkened his skin, and dirtied his skin. "There, near unrecognizable if they aren't looking for me." He said to himself.

He left his room after hearing others exit their own, strolling yawning into the common area. "Why's everyone up so early?" He asked, pretending they had woken them up. "You're going to be the second death of me."

Stretching, he clapped his hands together, eagerly. "Can't be helped. So...who wants to join me at the docks. I have commoners clothes for anyone and everyone. Wouldn't want anyone to be mugged."

With that, he flopped onto the nearest chair, closing his eyes in a lazy grin. Behind his eyes, a fire burned. He subconsciously grabbed the wrapped hilt of his blade. If I find the person responsible for this, they will find that only the lucky ones live more than once.

[Saleon]

So that was why they were brought in. The seeker sure picked a disdainful mission. A number of Castillian alchemites in some sort of kidnapping ring. While Idza had little opinion of Alchemites, good or bad, she was still one to find the whole idea of the inquisition to be a bit strong. She did not enjoy the idea of wiping them out. The only thing that she was both happy, and displeased with, was the idea of going back to that place she escaped from. Either way, she wouldn't let her past, get past her principles.

She decided to get ready, walking throughout the hall towards her room, when she was stopped by the merchant Konrad. For some reason, the fool had given her a golden ring as a prize. She had heard there was a bet, but it was a silly one nonetheless. "thank you," she joked, "I might sell this at a pawn shop. Get a quick dollar. I hope this wasn't a sign of your love, or anything. Because you don't do it for me."

Whatever the lack of seriousness they had, she hoped they would pull themselves together. She put the ring in her pocket and prepared for the trip. They had to pack quickly, before making their way to the docks. The seas were not her favorite place to be, but the League usually found ways to avoid some pirates, while working with others. At least in this case, it was a smooth trip.

---

The Painted Lady Inn was a nice, quaint place, as it promised. It was a welcome place laced with care. Her room had a lavender pink covering her walls. Her bed was arrayed in sheets and pillows that all had a welcoming feeling that a grandmother's love could only fabricate. At her nightstand was a set of morning-glories come to bring her at ease. The floor was made of a wooden pine that seemed to be shined up just recently.

She woke up with a certain comfort she hadn't felt in a while. She lifted the blanket off of her, and gave out a heavy yawn. She was wearing a purple nightgown. Before anything, she wanted to go out to her small porch from her room. She could see the sky dotted with puffs of white smoke. The sun had just come out. It was a small port town, which seemed wondrously swamped by the light of the heavens. It was a serene image that brought back memories.

She often tried to keep those memories away, nostalgia was hard to find when she was a kid. She was a troubled youth that had to work hard to build herself up, so she was surprised sometimes when she even had a good moment. Her eyes had a kind glimmer, with her hair swooped down, her face shockingly friendly despite her usually harsh demeanor, and shoulders swooped down as her hands perched on the balcony.

"So this place has a bad underside," Idza remarked to herself, "wonder what that says for society as a whole."

[Imperialisium]

The Painted Lady Inn
Alienor Rhiannon Fian Kyrelleiana

Aly arrived at the Painted Lady in wearing a tight leather bodice and trousers tucked into black boots lined with wolf fur. Her armor and swords where strapped to her saddle bags as her steed came to a stop next to the small stable door. A young boy working for the innkeeper, probably his son, ran up and grabbed the reigns. "Mi Lady." Aly turned, his puzzlement on how a woman can have such fiery hair was awestruck by her beauty. "Why thank you, Sir." replied Aly in a voice like layered honey drizzled over a succulent pastry. The boy blushed as Aly gracefully swung down from the saddle. Swiftly unstrapping and slinging her swords to rest on her back she took her rucksack in her other arm. "She can be tempermental." smiled Aly as she walked past the now red faced young man. The smell of cherries and other pleasant perfumes coming from Aly completing the picture.

Aly moved into the inn, the warmth of the fire kissed her exposed flesh, and the cold leather loosened it's stiffness on her legs. Thank good ness. Moving towards the rooms she picked a larger doublet, opened the door, and put her gear onto the bed closest to the window. Sitting on it she relaxed as she unlaced her boots and pulled them off. Flexing her pale white toes and massasing her calves. Her whole body was stiff. But she needed food and drink! Swiftly standing up, her form gliding, seemless and ethereal. Aly made her way back down to the common room and sat down at a table next to her comrades already present. Grabbing the nearest pitcher with smells of ale wafting from it. Her alchemite senses picking up the earthy scents. She poured it into a mug while a middle aged woman with tousled brown hair delivered a steak with steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes to her. Compliments of the house it seemed. Not that she would mind.

"Thank you madame." said Aly; perhaps fully seeing the League member for what she was the lady stopped, took a step back, then hurridly nodded and left. A little shy around alchemites? Oh well.

[Zyvalia]

Astaric Verellyon
At the "Painted Lady Inn"

---

The Verellyon sigil was an morbidly elegant one. Being that fire was what caused the birth of the "house", it made sense that it would be the heart of what the sigil was composed of. It bore a golden dragon, wings spread in flight, surrounded by an inferno of flame. But that wasn't all. The dragon seemed to be covered with blood, but not to the naked eye. The liquid just barely seeped from behind the golden scales of the dragon, just as blood had become the Verellyon's highest trait, like fire, given the violence in the house. This dragon was roaring flame from its bloody maw, and if one looked closer, they could find its expression was one of agony.

The sigil was inescapable to Astaric, he bore it on the left shoulder of his armor and it was practically etched into his heart. As a child, he enjoyed the thought that he was a dragon, given the sigil. One blessed with fire and power. But now, as the pale bloodied man he is now, he realizes the burden that the dragon of the sigil bears. That weight is enough to break a man, but the dragon has no choice but to carry it. Astaric feels that pain, that inescapable burden...it is always with him. You just learn to carry it better. He sees that he doesn't want to truly be the dragon.

Although, the scales would be nice. They're elegant and beautiful....something he wouldn't mind having. It could....it could be pleasant, having such an appearance, even when flames bit at your skin and blood covered you.

However, dreams of glamour are just that - dreams. In the physical realms, dreams have no place. They leave one beaten, broken, disappointed, sullen.

Astaric didn't dream anymore.

---

While most occupied the ground floor of the inn with the kegs of ale and food, Astaric did not. He stayed in his room - the quarters that the innkeepers were generous enough to give to him for the time he inhabited this city on his search. Unlike most mingling and making conversation, Astaric worked. He got his wish: Something to do. Instead of simply slashing dummies or playing the violin to forget, he had a duty. A purpose to sustain himself...for now.

And this purpose he would embrace. He sat at the wooden desk in the corner of the room, a detailed map of the city sprawled out and weighed down around the corners with a scabbard of his small dagger he carried, another corner with the actual dagger, the third one with a small silver coin, and the fourth with a half-empty bottle of strong spiced mead. The map was marked with circles and lines of charcoal, and nearby was a small stack of books of the city's history. He was studying his approach of the mission. Alchemite kidnappings, even with a town that had a whole district devoted to them.

He didn't sleep the previous night. He sparsely did, actually. It was empty stillness. No rest to be gained from it, nothing satisfying. Instead he spent the night reading upon the city's history to get a background of what he was dealing with. From what he gained, the kidnappings were likely done by a select group of individuals with a particular animosity towards the Alchemites, as opposed to a larger whole. It was hardly an astounding theory, but it was a place to start. Haven, the Alchemite district, was the best place to start investigating, he thought.

Astaric stood up, and picked up the bottle of room temperature mead from hours ago and finished it at last. He was done planning, he figured it was time to move. Moving to the bed, he strapped the light plates of gold-adorned armor onto his Verellyon Royal surcoat, and gathered what belongings he needed. He began to think again after...everybody was mingling for a reason, he knew. Camaraderie and kinship was key to things like this. Not being a lone wolf, err...lone dragon. What came to his mind was his exchange with Triss shortly before they departed on this investigation. She said something about there not being a whole lot to talk about (and the mention of a punishment if he left her appointment again), but that stuck with him. After a bit of overly intensive thinking, he realized there didn't really need to be any particular reason to talk. He just wished to speak now to find kinship like he had thought of, as much as he thought he hated the thought of it. No, he wanted to find companions. Like his old friends, like his retainers...

Like Fiola.

Astaric left his room. He was about to check on Trisse again, but thought of another approach. The lady whom had difficulty walking....Idza. She had spoken to him before on a few occasions, albeit only a few exchanged sentences. Astaric was in pain at the times - he still is. That lingering phantom pain of a life that was gone and unable to get back as well as in . But Astaric was good at reading faces...he could tell that Idza felt something similar. The cane was a giveaway, honestly. He wanted to know her. Maybe they could share a burden. That is what friends do, yes? Carry each other through the rain, as endless as it may seem. Perhaps she could be alongside him in this investigation.

The blood-haired man left his room and headed towards hers, giving a slight rap on the door. No answer. He did the same again....and still none. Waiting about a minute, he decided to simply enter. It was unlocked, luckily. If it wasn't, well, it would be less pleasant. Also luckily, he hadn't barged in upon her slumber. Instead, she stood upon the balcony, gazing upon the city, the docks, the waters. The smell of salt permeated the air from the ocean. He couldn't stand it - it reminded him too much of home. How the Verellyon palace was situated right at the coast.

Astaric heard her say the city had a bad underside, then ask herself what that meant for society as whole. With his naturally quiet footsteps, he chimed in with his soft, surprisingly comforting voice, albeit the words were less begetting of it.

"It says much for society, doesn't it? Society is composed of terrible people, like thieves, kidnappers....murderers. But there are good people in society. Like you." He said, leaning in the doorway to the balcony.

"I hope my intrusion is not too unforgivable an offense."

[Saleon]

Astaric left his room. He was about to check on Trisse again, but thought of another approach. The lady whom had difficulty walking....Idza. She had spoken to him before on a few occasions, albeit only a few exchanged sentences. Astaric was in pain at the times - he still is. That lingering phantom pain of a life that was gone and unable to get back as well as in. But Astaric was good at reading faces...he could tell that Idza felt something similar. The cane was a giveaway, honestly. He wanted to know her. Maybe they could share a burden. That is what friends do, yes? Carry each other through the rain, as endless as it may seem. Perhaps she could be alongside him in this investigation.

The blood-haired man left his room and headed towards hers, giving a slight rap on the door. No answer. He did the same again....and still none. Waiting about a minute, he decided to simply enter. It was unlocked, luckily. If it wasn't, well, it would be less pleasant. Also luckily, he hadn't barged in upon her slumber. Instead, she stood upon the balcony, gazing upon the city, the docks, the waters. The smell of salt permeated the air from the ocean. He couldn't stand it - it reminded him too much of home. How the Verellyon palace was situated right at the coast.

Astaric heard her say the city had a bad underside, then ask herself what that meant for society as whole. With his naturally quiet footsteps, he chimed in with his soft, surprisingly comforting voice, albeit the words were less begetting of it.

"It says much for society, doesn't it? Society is composed of terrible people, like thieves, kidnappers....murderers. But there are good people in society. Like you." He said, leaning in the doorway to the balcony.

"I hope my intrusion is not too unforgivable an offense."

Idzabella was feeling the old environment wrap around her, a soft blanket, yet it was familial and strange. She was worried what went on down in this town. The League wasn't a sorry little troop of boy scouts, they were the big leagues. She still couldn't help the fumes of the past from steaming up like the smell of a loving soup. It was the kind of soup you only had when guests came over, just to enjoy the company if anything else. The air caressed her face like a soft pillow upon her face, lightly almost enough to make you think you were still asleep.

Of course, there are things that can shock you out of dreaming, and you usually do have that guest at times. It seemed a silly thief had mistaken night for day, because a guest had come in like one in the night. He had slummed himself off the side of the door. The man had hair red as scarlet, and was apparently one to invade a girl's private sleeping area.

Astaric, one of the new members. Like a new member, he had wounds thick that don't go soft easy. Seemed as if dying was traumatic or something.

"It says much for society, doesn't it? Society is composed of terrible people, like thieves, kidnappers....murderers. But there are good people in society. Like you," He said, his calm voice seemingly desiring to slink in through her ears like a specter. So he continued, "I hope my intrusion is not too unforgivable an offense."

"You sure don't have much tact, do you?" she said in less of an angry tone, more of a calm tone, "I'll pardon it. Just don't make a habit of it." Idzabella turned around to more directly face him. She was more willing to be friendly to people this morning. She chalked it up to nostalgia. She added, ""I can't say much for society. A diplomat sees something unique in the world. I can't say it is or isn't a good example of society. I will say that Society is no where close to perfect."

"So what brings you here to a lady's private quarters?"

[Zyvalia]

"What I lack in tact I make up for in good meaning. At least, I hope I do. I'm not very patient when it comes to pressing matters such as this." The redhead said in reply, moving to lean against the balcony railing. "And to answer your concern, I understand the importance of privacy. I won't do this again. Well, not unless something else important arises." He remarked, his face rather bleak and expressionless. He bore neither a smile nor a frown. It was impossible to say what his face made him out to be. Not a hero, yes, but it didn't look like one of an evil man. I suppose actions would have to be his proof in this case.

"My business in bothering you is to see if you'd like to...."tag along" with me, so to speak. To investigate the kidnappings." Astaric said at last, finally cracking a slight smile. His hair, at last, was tied back into its "tail" with a golden brooch of sorts securing it, as opposed to the mess it was at headquarters. Gods, he looked half presentable now. Not enough that his mother still wouldn't scold him, but it would do.

"As for why I'm asking you....I don't know. I get a good feeling about you. Maybe it's your face. It doesn't look like the face of someone with ill intentions, no? I see good in there." His smile began to grow. It felt...nice talking to someone again. Albeit he didn't know if what he was saying was coming off as coherent or as the ramblings of a drunken sage peering into a crystal ball.

Astaric gave a long pause after he finished, taking time to look over the town and docks, the plumes of smoke from chimneys, the occasional child dashing through a street, and a market not-too-far-away from here. His hair blew in the salty wind. It felt pleasant.

"So, have you been here before? It is...calm. Surprisingly so."

[Praeceps]

The Painted Lady Inn
Carl Hessen

Carl felt pretty confident about his compatriots, he had a good feeling about most of them overall. The innkeeper as well seemed to be aligned with his goals slightly.

Freshly rested, Carl walked quietly down the stairs leading to the common room so as not to create a disturbance.

Entering the room he noticed that only a few of his team members were there. He felt himself immediately drawn to the white-haired male alluring attitude. Immediately suppressing that he instead focused on a slightly larger male covered from head to toe in red and adorned in jewelry. This individual was most likely either an extremely successful merchant or a minor noble who was hoping to draw more attention to him through his attire.

"Good morning, how is everyone doing?" Carl inquired as he entered the room.

[Doughertania]

Abu-Bakr Mazin Mikhail
Aronda, The Painted Lady Inn

The Crescent man opened his door a moment later, the bags under his eyes prevalent due to their darker than average color compared to his caramel colored skin.

"Yes...?" he said, while opening the door. Once he did so fully, and realized who it was that had been knocking, Mazin smiled a little. "Ah, Triss. Did you need something from me?"

Beatrix Vadoma, Aronda, The Painted Lady
After Mazin opened the door, Triss smiled warmly. He had a knack for alchemy, often agreeing to show her a few tricks from the Crescent Empire in exchange for some basic knowledge of healing. While most alchemists were often territorial about their trade, Mazin had been open to the idea of cross pollination, to which Triss had been very grateful.

Stepping inside, she made herself at home at the edge of the bed. "I don't need anything. You, on the other hand, look like you need a good day's rest." In fact, he's always looked as though he's spent his life avoiding sleep. She wanted to help, but how could she? She was a healer, a damn good one at that. But there are some things that cannot be healed from potions and powders alone. Even though they were all brought back from the dead, that didn't mean that all wounds were healed. Perhaps Mazin's problem was a side effect of his resurrection. Everyone seemed to have one, either a phantom limb or an incurable limp. It was entirely possible that Mazin was suffering from some kind of trauma from his old life. While she waited to see what happened, she began to formulate a plan to help him if that were the case.

There was another who seemed to suffer from the same thing. Kaga. The Seeker wouldn't speak of what happened to her, only that she deserved a second chance due to the enormity of unfair tragedies that befell her. Even though she was successfully brought back to the land of the living, she still was reclusive and distant. Perhaps there was a way to help that, one that could help Mazin too. Even if they didn't want to at first, she'd make them follow her orders, at least for a little while. That is, if Mazin was actually suffering from something more than insomnia. "Tell me Mazin, is something the matter? If there's something I can do to help, I will. I have a duty both as a healer and a friend."

[Relikai]

The Painted Lady Inn

Four A.M

Kaga shifted in the bed, her body rigid as she lay gripped by unseen hands, roaming all over her form as her face was locked in a stoic pose. Her eyes were open, but dark and unmoving, as if they were marbles set into a living human. The dreams came back to her again, her rape, the death of her family, the leers of her tormentors.

Kaga shot up as she clutched her chest, the burning sensation of a hot spear being driven into her fresh as day. Kaga wore practically nothing to sleep, a habit carried over from her days in Cathay. Her maids often chastised her for such a behavior, emphasizing the fact that a proper lady should at least wear a slip for her rest. Her body was drenched with perspiration, the archer getting off and pulling an oversized shirt on. The bottom of the shirt covered her all the way to the mid-thigh, Kaga being a newbie bought the wrong size of clothes as she walked out of the tailor. Subsequent purchases were wiser, although Kaga kept her main set of clothes as a uniform of her own.

Her two daggers lay by the bedside, the mage picking them up as she got into a fighting stance. Throughout her new life, training has been her refuge. She was still uncomfortable with talking with people, although Kaga tried to make an effort. She avoided the gaze of males, and simply stoned as females laughed at the asocial Cathayan. Laughs and stares which Kaga avoided, simply sitting by the harbour as she contemplated her mission. Alchemites, Alchemists, and Mages. Being a Cathayan, Kaga was relatively unsure of the relation between the three. Huan Shu was a state of art which could be utilized by almost anyone who carries the faith, and there was little need for people to turn to alchemy to harness it's power.

At least, for Cathayans themselves.

Her drills carried on throughout the night, Kaga's steps making little to no noise as her feet danced along the wooden planks. Her yells were silent, as she fought off phantom enemies in her shadow fighting. Her training continued to dawn, when she finally sat against her bed, exhausted from her harsh training. At least they chased the nightmares away, as the mage fell into a light sleep, and was awoken an hour later by the morning sun. It's rays touching her pale skin, Kaga woke, refreshed but slightly aching. Resting for the past few days had given her an excess amount of energy, and was she glad to have converted quite a bit into good use.

Wearing her white yukata and short blue skirt, with daggers fit into her sides and a bow slung across her back, Kaga headed down to the common area where she ordered a mug of milk, together with some cheese and bread. Something to energize her for the morning, Kaga was glad that she could converse properly, albeit in a slightly reduced pace. It was still an improvement since her conversation with Izda tho.

[Bycrest]

Ezekiel: Before and After

-snip-

Ezekiel listened to his explanation with mild interest, but was more concerned about the answer to his question. Ah, seems he didn't know either. Ezekiel sighed in disappointment. "That wasn't meant for your role here." He clarified, realizing how it may have we come out. "Without you, I may day of boredom." Then, all of the sudden, a portal was opened. "Ah, THERE'S Seeker!" He said, clapping Lev on the back. "Come, let's see what this is all about.

______________________________

The carriage ride was uneventful for Ezekiel. For those who hadn't travelled with him prior to this, his astute silence may have shocked them. However, he was simply watching the trees go past, the hills roll on, and the birds flying without a care. Travelling was...peaceful for him. He memorized landscapes, thought about reaching the skies, and longed for the journey after it's end.

Unlike most, whom checked in right away, Ezekiel first did a little shopping. Clothing shopping, to be exact. Were one to watch him, they would think it odd that all he bought was women's casual clothing. They weren't of any quality, either.

Here's the After I was talking about

Ezekiel was up bright and early. He lightened his hair, darkened his skin, and dirtied his skin. "There, near unrecognizable if they aren't looking for me." He said to himself.

He left his room after hearing others exit their own, strolling yawning into the common area. "Why's everyone up so early?" He asked, pretending they had woken them up. "You're going to be the second death of me."

Stretching, he clapped his hands together, eagerly. "Can't be helped. So...who wants to join me at the docks. I have commoners clothes for anyone and everyone. Wouldn't want anyone to be mugged."

With that, he flopped onto the nearest chair, closing his eyes in a lazy grin. Behind his eyes, a fire burned. He subconsciously grabbed the wrapped hilt of his blade. If I find the person responsible for this, they will find that only the lucky ones live more than once.

Rinji simply sat calmly and drank the rest of his tea as Ezekiel's ego suddenly filled the room. From the time Rinji knew Ezekiel, he knew it was best to ignore most of his more obnoxious actions, which was pretty much everything he said or did. For all the faults that Ezekiel had, Rinji still had some level of respect for him, albeit very low. However Rinji was impressed when Ezekiel took charge of the expedition to the docks, he was probably the best choice since he would fit right in with the other common crooks down there.

"It's probably best if Ezekiel goes to the docks, he would be able to get the most information without seeming to suspicious. In turn, I will be heading to the governor to see if I he knows anything about the kidnappings. However, I realize I'm not the most diplomatic member of the group so if anyone else wants to join me they are more than welcome to."

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

Abu-Bakr Mazin Mikhail
Aronda, The Painted Lady Inn

The Crescent man opened his door a moment later, the bags under his eyes prevalent due to their darker than average color compared to his caramel colored skin.

"Yes...?" he said, while opening the door. Once he did so fully, and realized who it was that had been knocking, Mazin smiled a little. "Ah, Triss. Did you need something from me?"

Beatrix Vadoma, Aronda, The Painted Lady
After Mazin opened the door, Triss smiled warmly. He had a knack for alchemy, often agreeing to show her a few tricks from the Crescent Empire in exchange for some basic knowledge of healing. While most alchemists were often territorial about their trade, Mazin had been open to the idea of cross pollination, to which Triss had been very grateful.

Stepping inside, she made herself at home at the edge of the bed. "I don't need anything. You, on the other hand, look like you need a good day's rest." In fact, he's always looked as though he's spent his life avoiding sleep. She wanted to help, but how could she? She was a healer, a damn good one at that. But there are some things that cannot be healed from potions and powders alone. Even though they were all brought back from the dead, that didn't mean that all wounds were healed. Perhaps Mazin's problem was a side effect of his resurrection. Everyone seemed to have one, either a phantom limb or an incurable limp. It was entirely possible that Mazin was suffering from some kind of trauma from his old life. While she waited to see what happened, she began to formulate a plan to help him if that were the case.

There was another who seemed to suffer from the same thing. Kaga. The Seeker wouldn't speak of what happened to her, only that she deserved a second chance due to the enormity of unfair tragedies that befell her. Even though she was successfully brought back to the land of the living, she still was reclusive and distant. Perhaps there was a way to help that, one that could help Mazin too. Even if they didn't want to at first, she'd make them follow her orders, at least for a little while. That is, if Mazin was actually suffering from something more than insomnia. "Tell me Mazin, is something the matter? If there's something I can do to help, I will. I have a duty both as a healer and a friend."

Abu-Bakr Mazin Mikhail
Aronda, The Painted Lady, Mazin's Room

Mazin closed the door gently after Triss swept into the room, a whirlwind of red hair, pale skin, and clothing. When the Crescent had first met her, it could be said that he was a... Little surprised. They did not have women like her in the Empire. Skin as white as Cathayan porcelain, hair as red as lifeblood, the kind that came when you punctured a heart.

And as intelligent as the brightest of Crescent scholars and alchemists. Triss was the only person Mazin would talk to for a long time, before he met Abraham and finally started to warm to the other members of the League. She was his introduction to a hostile culture, to a people that thought his nothing more than infidels on average, merchants at best, and horrible scourges of the seas at worst, and a language so convoluted that it sometimes made him lust for that blade that haunted his dreams. Almost. She was his first friend, and he thought of her as perhaps the best friend he had ever had, in both of his lives.

Mazin blinked at her statement, the one mentioning his need of a good rest, and chuckled sadly, nodding in response. "Aye, that could be said... Could have been said for a very long while." he said, his voice nigh on a whisper as was habit. He wasn't a very outspoken person, though that was not from his death. Mazin was just naturally quiet.

The Crescent alchemist made himself comfortable across from Triss, sitting on the edge of the paper covered desk. He blinked, slightly surprised by the question she asked him. "Is... Something the matter?" he repeated, more to himself than to her.

His fingers clenched on the hard edge of the desk, knuckles nearly as white as Triss's normally were.

His eye twitched nearly imperceptibly as his dreams tried to come back to him.

Mazin recovered a second later, his gaze having gone off to somewhere a thousand miles away for that missing moment. "No... Uhm, nothing is wrong. Thank you for asking though..."

He quickly turned around and shuffled some papers as the memories tried again to resurface. Must keep the hands busy, can't let her see the weakness, a man must be strong...

He was hurrying so quickly and chaotically that he brushed a pitcher of water by accident, and it fell off the desk with a mighty crash. The glass went everywhere, along with the water. Mazin clenched his hand above the remains of the pitcher, looking at the appendage as if it betrayed him. He took in a shaky breath and slowly stretched out his hand.

"Maybe..." Mazin whispered with a gulp, "Maybe something is wrong..."

[Galnius]

Ezekiel was quite dismayed that no one wished to join him, to say the least. Rinji, a man he knew only by the three blades he wore and not by name (he was terrible with names ) seemed to wish to lead the expedition to the mayor's residence. Ezekiel found it all well and good, but didn't see the fun in it. The others, like the fairly dressed merchant, would likely be robbed in a heartbeat.

He glanced about, scanning the room and arrivals for potential partners in this escapade. He was not disappointed when, of all people, his eyes fell upon Aly. Without any implication of the knowledge of personal space, Ezekiel rose and sat next to her in an instant.

"You seem bored", he began, as if a street merchant selling a new ware. "I highly doubt you want to stay cooped up in some politicians draft manor or some healers leaky shack. Would you mayhaps join me in an adventure about the docks?"

He rose, examining her from other angles, hands placed over his chin and lip thoughtfully. "You could certainly be useful there. You are just distracting enough to allow me to go unnoticed, you should have no trouble getting information, and...you are an alchemite, correct? You asking about others would raise little to no suspicion. " And at the very least, perfect bait. Not that I'd let harm come to her...too, I don't know, useful? Let's go with that for now he thought to himself. "So, uh...what's your nave again? Oh well, care to join me? I have clothing in my room that would go over your armour nicely. Yes, before you ask, it's female clothing."

[Saleon]

"What I lack in tact I make up for in good meaning. At least, I hope I do. I'm not very patient when it comes to pressing matters such as this." The redhead said in reply, moving to lean against the balcony railing. "And to answer your concern, I understand the importance of privacy. I won't do this again. Well, not unless something else important arises." He remarked, his face rather bleak and expressionless. He bore neither a smile nor a frown. It was impossible to say what his face made him out to be. Not a hero, yes, but it didn't look like one of an evil man. I suppose actions would have to be his proof in this case.

"My business in bothering you is to see if you'd like to...."tag along" with me, so to speak. To investigate the kidnappings." Astaric said at last, finally cracking a slight smile. His hair, at last, was tied back into its "tail" with a golden brooch of sorts securing it, as opposed to the mess it was at headquarters. Gods, he looked half presentable now. Not enough that his mother still wouldn't scold him, but it would do.

"As for why I'm asking you....I don't know. I get a good feeling about you. Maybe it's your face. It doesn't look like the face of someone with ill intentions, no? I see good in there." His smile began to grow. It felt...nice talking to someone again. Albeit he didn't know if what he was saying was coming off as coherent or as the ramblings of a drunken sage peering into a crystal ball.

Astaric gave a long pause after he finished, taking time to look over the town and docks, the plumes of smoke from chimneys, the occasional child dashing through a street, and a market not-too-far-away from here. His hair blew in the salty wind. It felt pleasant.

"So, have you been here before? It is...calm. Surprisingly so."

"O-Of course," she said maintaining her thoughts. The question caught her off guard, it was morning so she wasn't expecting somebody to ask about her past. It made all that reminiscing seem like a bitter pill. It was a minor slip up, one she expected to not make again. She quickly recovered, stating, "I am a diplomat by trade; I go to and from places like this, habitually."

She moved closer inside towards the dresser. She had picked out a set of clothes, stuffed nicely and folded, but with little care where she placed those folded clothes. It basically was, while folded—a cacophony of dresses, shirts, underwear, among other things—placed together in a random assortment. You could find socks in one drawer, probably another drawer, and definitely in that other drawer. Idza began to pick out clothes she would wear.

"I'll be right out," she said, "but I would quite like my privacy back right now. Some things I won't be letting you see, today." She quickly whisked him away, waited for the door to clack on the way out.

She slowly unraveled the quaint nightgown she wore. It was thin, but still thick enough to keep out any unwanted views. Her underwear, which shall not be described in detail, flowed quickly over her. She put on a similar dress to the one she had at the league—A faded blue with a belt; a tan duster that seemed to be more for hunting than diplomacy, she still liked wearing it. Next came her cane. She stared at it for a while, still realizing that it is so real. She could weakly maneuver the room without it, but she was still stuck with it. Afterwards, her hat with the feather.

After giving Astaric nothing to see, she exited her room. "I will say," she continued from her previous conversation, "any street looks peaceful under the morning light. Is it wrong that I want to visit the governor? He should know a good lot about this port city. He may have been nice enough to let the alchemites in, but he wasn't nice enough to give them a place better than an Alchemite ghetto. Where were you planning on going?

[Imperialisium]

Ezekiel was quite dismayed that no one wished to join him, to say the least. Rinji, a man he knew only by the three blades he wore and not by name (he was terrible with names ) seemed to wish to lead the expedition to the mayor's residence. Ezekiel found it all well and good, but didn't see the fun in it. The others, like the fairly dressed merchant, would likely be robbed in a heartbeat.

He glanced about, scanning the room and arrivals for potential partners in this escapade. He was not disappointed when, of all people, his eyes fell upon Aly. Without any implication of the knowledge of personal space, Ezekiel rose and sat next to her in an instant.

"You seem bored", he began, as if a street merchant selling a new ware. "I highly doubt you want to stay cooped up in some politicians draft manor or some healers leaky shack. Would you mayhaps join me in an adventure about the docks?"

He rose, examining her from other angles, hands placed over his chin and lip thoughtfully. "You could certainly be useful there. You are just distracting enough to allow me to go unnoticed, you should have no trouble getting information, and...you are an alchemite, correct? You asking about others would raise little to no suspicion. " And at the very least, perfect bait. Not that I'd let harm come to her...too, I don't know, useful? Let's go with that for now he thought to himself. "So, uh...what's your nave again? Oh well, care to join me? I have clothing in my room that would go over your armour nicely. Yes, before you ask, it's female clothing."

The Painted Lady Inn
Alienor Rhiannon Fian Kyrelleiana

Aly frowned inwardly at Ezekie;'s sudden invasion of her space. If ever there was a 0 to 10 scale for who talks the most in the League---Ezekiel would be the ten. But, he was at least polite in his odd use of tautology. So Aly replied readily, after taking the final bite of her food, and washing it down with ale, "I would 'mayhaps' join you to the docks to investigate Alchemite vanishings---which your stellar observation skills have indeed showed me to be of that demographic---so in short, yes."

Aly stood up, "No need to change though. I look inconspicuous enough as is. Shall we be off?" Aly pushed the chair back under the table and glanced at Ezekiel. She was tall, easily up to the level of the Men in the room. Lean but with curves in all the right places to the eyes of the lecherous. Not that Alienor cared. She was part of the Phoenix League to investigate happenings in this city, not a courtesan, at least not anymore. Twirling some of her fiery red hair between two ivory fingers Aly kept her eyes on Ezekiel, "So, care to lead me along Sir." Offering her right arm for him to take. They would look inconspicuous as possible. A simple couple, friends or otherwise, strolling about the docks to take in the morning air and cool breeze blowing in from the Sea. Maybe even to procure fish or goods shipped from else ware? The legitimate reasoning for two individuals such as them to be there was virtually limitless.