Open Chronicles Sunny Days

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Minerva

Ultramarine
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The Grand Museum of Alliria - The Inner City

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Alliria was a city of twin identities. One side of the city a forgotten slum, teeming with crime and opportunity for the lowest scum in Arethil. On the other side lay the Inner City. A place of wealth and splendor few in Liadian or Epressa could ever hope to imagine.

And tonight? Tonight they were holding a gala at the Grand Museum of Alliria.

Table sets were placed, wines had been poured, and an array of exotic meats and cheeses lined the porcelain trays that servants whisked around the room. Some of the most distinguished guests of Alliria, and as far away as Elbion, were gathered for the same event. The unveiling of the Medallion of Daybreak.

An item with the magical ability to manipulate the sun itself. Or at least, so the legends held. One of the merchant companies had come into possession of such an artifact and was donating it to the Grand Museum, a place where it would be on display in one of the most secure locales imaginable to man or beastfolk. There was but a singular problem, one simple conundrum that was inescapable for the woman who sat crouched just outside the museum.

It wasn't secure enough. Minerva doubted this amulet could do the things that legends declared it could but the mere fact those legends existed meant that the Inheritors of Uroghosh couldn't take any chances. She'd steal that amulet and return it to their home where it would sit dormant until the end of time. As was the case for any artifact too dangerous for mortals to possess.

But first she needed to find a way into the gala. Judging by the fine-dressed folks entering she was sorely underdressed and the Inheritors were certainly not connected enough to acquire an invitation to such an event.

Briefly the scarlet-haired Summoner contemplated simply charging in, blade drawn. By far the most straight forward, and quickest, method to locate the medallion. However, security looked to be tight and if she found herself decapitated the medallion would sit in the hands of Allirians for generations. It was very difficult to return home if you lacked a skull, after all.

She'd need to sneak in. Somehow.
 
"You think it's true?" the tall, horn crowned tiefling asked his counterpart. Voice a soft rumble, like the distant churn of storm clouds. He spoke to A short squat man, with peppered beard and square jaw. Human. A certain rugged charm about him.

"Wat?" the house guard asked, his eye too busy following the fine skirts of finer ladies. "About Renno?"

"About the medallion," his voice thrummed.

"Fuck if I know, Xan, and fuck if I care," the guardsman scratched at the hairs of his chin. "All I know, is we get paid a pretty penny for making this appearance, don't we,"

The tiefling pulled his eyes away from the hidden display, where the thing would be revealed. "And Lady Sinclayr gets to brag at her next council meeting," he smiled, poison sweet.

The guardsman blew a raspberry. "Yeah well, spose her good name keeps my purse nice and fat so, ye, that too,"

Statue still, the horn crowned tiefling turned his red moon eyes unto the crowd of faces, his fine black armor lustrous, bathed in all the light of chandeliers and candles round.
 
The Sinclayr family had donated an extravagant amount of funds to the Grand Museum, which meant that any time they held a Gala like this, Eden was obligated to participate. She'd also continued her family's history of generosity by providing extra security for the unveiling of a new artifact that night, a medallion of unexplored potential.

Two other ladies next to her were chatting about it then, debating about its merits, the veracity of its origins, the adventurous mage from Elbion that had discovered it, and other things that self-professed art critics liked to talk about. The medallion was magic, and ancient, and crafted under mysterious means. That much was obvious, but her fellow foolish merchants had decided to put it up on display instead of testing its limits.

Shame that her company hadn't been the one to discover it. She would have done something more interesting than simply prop the thing up as a centerpiece. Eden popped a fancy slice of cured meat into her mouth and chewed it to blandness as she pondered the object.
 
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It wasn't that difficult of a thing.

She'd waited until a woman, by herself, exited a carriage. Minerva asked if the woman needed anything, then she'd subdued her and taken her dress, invitation, and a few pieces of jewelry. Sure, it wasn't the method that the Inheritors normally used but the red-haired thief had already realized that going in with her sword drawn was a sure-fire way to die.

Instead she donned a beautifully crafted yellow dress that came to her ankles. A pair of (stolen) heels that were studded with silver-lined gemstones around their edges and a satchel that she, strangely, wore around her shoulder.

Once she felt she was properly done-up the Summoner made her way to the entrance of the gala.

A hand reached forward to present the invitation to a short man with a salt-and-pepper beard. Without even hesitating she waltzed forwards past both the small statured man and the tiefling that accompanied him. "Can you take you my coat?"

It was a question accompanied by a quick motion towards the tiefling as she passed the stolen coat over towards him.

Walking into the dining area where Eden Sinclayr, a number of other nobles, and the prize she sought all sat.
 
The guard next to Xanatos got a funny look on his face and nudged the taller man with his elbow as a shapely young woman made her way towards them. Red-haired, yellow dressed, and with fine feet that sparkled like stars on her shoes. "Looks like a strong ray of sun, don't she?" the guard muttered beneath his breath, and zipped up as she dug for her invitation. "My well, that's a lovely dress on you, Lady Arnath," the shorter guard said, all cheeky smile and interest in his eyes.

"Yes," Xanatos noticed the way she wore a strap across her chest, his hand reaching out to collect the fine coat she had handed him. "A lovely dress, for a striking woman," he said absent mindedly as she strode forward. "Hard bodied, yet softly clothed," he went on, muttering aloud as his red eyes followed the red shock of hair. "Her feet looked cramped in her shoes," he added.

The guardsman laughed. "What? What the hell are you goin on about, Xan, noticing a bird's feet with feathers as fine as that!" he noticed he was being too loud. But only grinned wider as he watched her go.

"Ruffled," Xanatos added, and looked down at the coat shed given him. He smelled at it.
 
Unfortunately for the Lady "Arnath", no one at this Gala had anything better to do than appraise every new face that walked through the door. At least, not until the real treasure was revealed. The woman in the yellow dress drew attention as she entered, though none of it went beyond the usual gossip-fueled conjectures of relic lovers and fine art collectors.

"Say, doesn't that look like the dress Lady Arnath commissioned for Danthy's wedding?" One of the women sitting next to Eden, a slender thing with her hair powdered blue, said.

"Hah, she's going to be livid once she sees someone's copied her precious style," said the other, a shorter woman with too much red dabbed on her cheeks. The rouged up woman leaned closer, peering behind her drink at the newcomer. "Why, its the very same one, I recognize the hemming. Arnath must have sold it and ordered another."

"A hand-me-down, how embarrassing!"
The blued haired one said with a little chortle and a mocking glance. "Poor thing. She must be some middling merchant's wife, trying to make it big."

This was why Eden chose to spend time around the pair. More often than not they prattled on about nothing, but their observational skills were second to none. She couldn't pay spies enough to get her this kind of information. Well, Xan probably would notice, he had a keen eye for tailor work. But she didn't pay him, either.

Eden rose from her seat, smoothed out the long emerald dress she wore, and made to leave the other ladies' table.

"Eden my dear, where are you going?" asked the perpetually blushing one, her voice overly sweet with affection.

"This is a charity event, is it not?" Her lips rose in a generous smile, but her eyes held nothing but contempt for the two other women. "I am going to go be personable, you two should try it sometime."

Eden grabbed a glass of red wine off a nearby servant's tray and approached the woman in the yellow dress. Offered the glass to her. "Eden Sinclayr, at your service," she introduced herself with a slight bow of her head. "I could not help but notice you looked a bit lost. Have you anyone to sit with?"
 
As it turned out, heels were a terrible thing to navigate. During her life she'd learned the proper ways to skin an elk, how to kill a human (or dwarf) with a quick slashing of a blade, and the mannerisms that ancient orcish tribes had conducted.

What she hadn't learned was how to deal with walking in heels. She'd gotten it right enough to get into the gala but it was obvious from the stares that she wasn't equipped with the etiquette to deal with this event.

Curses. She should've tried sneaking in. Unseen.

A few women whispered about, "that clumsy girl in the hand-me-down dress," and how she was, "the only one here without makeup."

But just as Minverva believed she was the subject the subject of scorn a woman, with chestnut hair and emerald eyes, approached her and offered her a seat next to her. How particularly convenient! All this time she was worried about fitting in and now a noble woman was offering her a spot at her table!

Her posture was obviously unequipped for the frivolities of noble life but she answered the call all the same, "I'd be delighted to uh, sit with you, Lady Sinclayr." She had spoken the words as seriously as she could manage.

Unfortunately for her the medallion she sought hadn't been revealed yet. She'd have to play the part of an awkward noblewoman until it came into view, a task she was discovering was far more difficult than she originally imagined.
 
"And then, I told Lennox, oi! You got to go and grab the damn thing by the~"

Xanatos had tuned the guardsman out as they both walked the perimeter of the party. Door post traded off to another pair of House Sinclayr's guard. His eyes fixed on the bright rays of red that moved through the crowd. He had put her coat away, but the smell still lingered. Blood. Flesh. The smell of the open field and the woods. It was a trackers scent. A hunter's musk. So deeply there it couldn't hide beneath the perfume.

It was not the scent of an Allirian noble.

Xanatos blinked. Still watching her from afar as she strode through the gala. Gate awkward. Stride near clumsy. But it was... like a beast had taken thorn in its paw. Imperfect, only due to disturbance. So sure and proud and easy did her frame
know to move.

Then she sat down.

Xanatos' eyes widened. His lips cracked a sharp toothed smile. She had sat down right beside Lady Sinclayr.

"And he wouldn't stop shitting for a weak," the guardsman laughed, wiped a tear away at his own story. "Gods, I miss that boy,"
 
Oh, this woman was delightful! Edens smile turned genuine, though her gaze did not grow any softer. The other woman stabbed right through Eden's initial question and went straight to inviting herself to sit with her. To take the offer so brazenly went against Allirian sensibilities, which lucky for the redhead, Eden found endearing.

"Right this way, then." With a crinkle of emerald eyes, Eden gave an old-fashioned bow to the other woman, and pulled out a chair for her.

They had the table to themselves. The two ladies that had been sitting there previously having relocated to livelier company. Eden thought nothing of their absence. Alliances were cheap and easy to reforge here in the battlefield of the Gala. She would find them later, if it suited her. Right now she was enamored with the newcomer in front of her.

It must be fun, being so blunt about things. Maybe she would give it a go.

"This bit before the ceremony is always so stuffy and drawn out," Eden admitted. "They should get on with it and unveil the new artifact soon, don't you agree..." She raised a hand to her chest, looking to the other woman in mock embarrassment. "Oh, my apologies, I don't believe I caught your name...?"
 
They made their way to an empty table and Minerva took her seat without fuss. Somehow this was going remarkably well. Perhaps she really could've been a proper noble lady in another life.

"Wow this looks great," the words spoken right as a hand reached down to dig into the frosted cake slide before her, completely bypassing the fork that had been set beside it. She chewed, swallowed, and then wiped her hand on the tablecloth to remove the frosting that had gotten itself wedged between fingers.

She looked over at Eden, contemplating her words. "Yeah, completely drawn out. What's even the point? Let's skip to the main event." The sooner they showed off the artifact the sooner she could plot the best way to nab the thing and be off.

Judging on the security she'd seen it was unlikely she could sneak away completely but maybe she could find a singular exit path and only have to fell five or six of the guards.

"Oh, my name?" Damn.

What did Allirians name their children? Her own parents had been largely human, though her father had a bit of orcish in him, and they'd given her the name Madeleine. It was such a bizarre name but her mother insisted it was common enough amongst humans. She couldn't recycle her own name but, maybe...

With a confident stare she simply said, "I'm Adeleine. Adeleine Alliria." It was a good, strong, name.
 
Eden didn't touch her own cake. She watched with passive fascination as the other woman dug a hand into the confection placed in front of her. The chatter around them began to shift at the indecorous display. Gossip was now turning to suspicion, good fun to discomfort. People fell silent as they looked on. A nearby waiter gasped in horror when the woman wiped her sticky fingers off on the silk tablecloth.

It was clear that this woman was not of a refined enough background to have gotten into the Gala organically. All Eden needed to do was raise a hand and call the guards over, and she could end this charade in moments. Folded there in her lap, her fingers twitched.

"I'm Adeleine. Adeleine Alliria."

A terrible grin crawled across Eden's face. She beamed at the other woman. It was a crooked expression. "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Alliria."

Eden put her elbow on the table, rested her chin there in the palm of her hand. "I know where they're keeping the medallion," she whispered conspiratorially. Lifting off her palm, she leaned in closer, glanced around as if she was worried of being overheard. "Want to sneak out of here and see it before everyone else?"
 
She ate with her hands. Xanatos eyes were wide with excitement. Such freedom. Such disregard for convention.

To just. Grab food and shove it in your face. Xanatos was breathless.

That Lady Sinclayr was right beside her, smiling, smirking, excited. How Xanatos loved to see her smile. Like the glint of a knife, catching the first light of a new day. To think, this woman, so free of the shackles of high society, would inspire such a reaction from Lady Sinclayr.

He smiled to himself. Pleased. He pulled his eyes away from the scene, frosting smeared as it was, and looked to the guardsman.

"Gods." the shorter man said with excitement. "I do love a woman that can eat,"

Xanatos nod. "Yes," he said in a voice that rumbled with heat. "Rare is one whose appetite is so, forthcoming,"
 
Whenever she returned home she'd have to brag about this event to her compatriots. Apparently she was a natural at playing the part of a noble lady, expertly navigating the customs and traditions of high society.

Not only had she gotten into the event but now everyone couldn't keep their eyes off of her. That's how alluring she was. Moreover, the woman she'd met was already offering to show her the medallion. With any luck, it'd be in a secluded room so she could nab the thing and be off.

It was crazy to think they'd originally considered sending a squad to grab the thing when Madeleine in a dress worked just fine.

"I would love to see the medallion before anyone else," after all, that had been the entire point of the gala, hadn't it? She assumed that once they showed off the medallion everyone would simply leave and go home. So it wouldn't be too suspicious or out of the ordinary if she disappeared once seeing it.

Glee and satisfaction at herself overcame her. "We should go as quickly as possible."
 
"You there, horned one," some small and huffed up voice called up to Xanatos. His red eyes slowly turned to face the one who addressed him. "There is a rather suspicious man skulking about, disturbing the patrons, begging for alms," he turned his nose up at the notion. "Please, see to it that he is escorted off the premises, post haste." he gave a self assured nod.

Xanatos bowed with reverence and respect.
"Of course, Councilman Amardo,"

A gratified harumph. The sort one gave when they knew they had done the world a favor. And Amardo was off.

"Fuckin hate that guy," the short guard said.

Xanatos had already turned and begun walking toward the disturbance. A frail old man, wearing the cloth of the Celestials. A kind, if not slightly embarrassed smile worn across his wrinkled old face.

"Oy, wait for me Xan! You fuckin demon," the short guard hurried after.
 
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"We should go as quickly as possible."

Eden kept that subdued smile. "Right this way, then," she said as she rose from her chair. Waited for Lady Alliria to do the same, and then led her out of the banquet hall.

Briefly, as they passed by, Eden glanced at Xan. What was that demon doing, chasing a distraction when she was clearly in the middle of something? Oh, well. She didn't need his help to deal with a single aberrant - she could do this by herself.

Her heels clacked against the cold marble floors of the museum halls as Eden took them further away from the warmth and sound of the Gala. She walked at a brisk clip, following a convoluted route through unnecessary back rooms and side exits to try and confuse the other woman's sense of direction.

Eventually, they reached a pair of doors ornamented in gold leaf. "It's right in here," Eden said with a glance back at the other woman, and then opened the doors.

She wasn't lying. Beyond the doors lay a circular room. Concentric stone steps rose up to a center platform. On the platform was a pedestal, and on that pedestal lay not one, but two Medallions of Daybreak. An old man in long, gilded robes stood crouched over the pedestal. He was muttering to himself, holding up first one medallion and then the other as if in inspection. An assortment of jewelry making tools were scattered about him.

"Prumorn, I thought you said the duplicate was ready to display. Has something happened?" He voice echoed through the empty, high-ceiling room, a place that was obviously meant to hold a good number of onlookers.

"Ah, Lady Synclair!" The old museum curator turned, and walked down the circular steps towards the two ladies. "Nothing at all has happened, I just wanted to double-check one last thing. Forgive an old man for fretting over his perfections."

Instead of giving her forgiveness, Eden spoke next to the Lady Alliria. "It isn't safe to display such a powerful artifact to the public," she explained to the other woman. "So the museum always makes a replica, and secures the original in the vaults. I did not think that both would still be out. But since we're already here, perhaps you can give us your insight?"

She nodded to the pedestal where both medallions lay. "Go ahead, and take a look. Can you tell them apart? The real from the fake?"
 
In Rytghosh the structures were all built into a cavern, an entire city built around the vault which housed all of the enchanted and magical items too dangerous for mortal hands to touch. The hallways and floor plans were very logical, very straightforward.

Based on the path that Eden was escorting her through the redhaired Summoner concluded that the people of Alliria didn't have any idea what a common sense floor plan meant.

So many hallways, so many twists and turns! It was so confusing. And pointless! Why would anyone design a building like this?!

Once inside the viewing room she marveled at the decor for only a second. The stairs and the central pedestal looked marvelous when looked at underneath the painted high-ceiling of the oval room. Perhaps the Allirians did know a thing or two about architecture even if they constructed the least clear paths from one room to another.

"Wait, you make replicas?" Did the people visiting the museum know this? "So you just lie to people who come to see a thing?"

The Sources, scholars of their society, likely already knew this but when she returned her report would have to include just how dishonest the Allirians were. "Hm, let me take a look and see if I can spot which one is which."

Prumorn, and possibly Eden too, hovered over her shoulder as she eyed both of the medallions. They looked identical, at least to her, and considering she didn't actually have any magical talent it was nearly impossible to tell which one emitted the rare enchantment that the Medallion of Daybreak was said to possess.

"See, here is the line showing solar patterns, it was a difficult thing to replicate," the museum employee stated as his finger drifted back-and-forth between both gems, never giving even the slightest hint as to which was real.

"They're both so pretty," was now a good time to summon her armor? No, it was just an old man and a woman who'd been nothing but kind to her. They weren't a threat and she didn't have any need to startle or harm them. "I think I'm going to take both with me. For safe keeping, of course."

"Um, excuse me?" Prumorn's voice gave away the shock in his voice.
 
"Wha-what did I do wrong, good sir?" the old man asked, his puffy eyes squinted with worry as he looked to the horned guard who grabbed him by the arm with a firm grasp, and the tired looking man, who just seemed to want this to be done with.

"You were soliciting, Brother Vance," the human guard said plainly.
"Soliciting is forbidden,"

Brother Vance's eyes went wide, his head recoiled. "I, I but asked for alms, alms for the people of Alliria," his voice choked in his throat.

Xan looked on with disinterest in his cold red eyes.
Squeezed the man's arm, and gave him a tug. "Time to go," he said flatly, and pulled him along.

The priest sputtered. "Wait, please, think, ow! You are hurting me!"

The shorter guard sighed and shook his head. "Come on, old timer, just follow along, and it will all be done with soon,"

Brother Vance stiffened some, despite the hard grip on his skinny arm, and the stab of pain that came from strong sharp finger-points digging into his aged muscle. "Have you no shame?!" he called out to the onlookers. Some watched wide eyed, some watched with weird grins, others just went on, talking about whatever they were talking about. "There are hungry people out-" his breath left him as he crumpled round a hard fist in his stomach.

"Quiet," Xan added. "The guests are trying to enjoy themselves,"

The shorter guard grumbled. "Do you gotta be so mean all the time, Xan?"

The priest whimpered, as he sucked down breath. "How can you be so heartless,"

Xan wondered how Lady Sinclayr was doing.
 
The other woman didn't seem impressed with Eden's explanation. Despite her .... rustic ... habits, her bluntness had a certain charm to it, born of an earnestness that Eden herself had left behind in childhood.

"So you just lie to people who come to see a thing?" the woman asked.

Eden waved a hand dismissively. "Well, its more that we all agree to play a game. Some of us just know more of the rules than others."

Eden stayed at the base of the stairs, when the other woman ascended to the pedestal, watching from a distance. For a moment, the strange woman examined the twin artifacts as Prumorn happily explained the details of his work. The old man was an expert forger, even a mage of Elbion would have trouble telling the two apart. It seemed that the woman was no mage - she promptly gave up without making a guess.

Well, giving up was not quite right. 'Lady Alliria' laid claim to both the duplicate and the original with a blase air that caught even Eden off guard. Green eyes blinked in surprise as she looked up at the other woman blankly. "Ah. I didn't think you would come right out and say it."

Turning her back to the pedestal, Eden sat down on the very last step. She leaned down and undid the straps on her shoes - silky red with a modest heel, not her favorite pair but she'd rather not ruin them. " I hope you understand, I am going to have to stop you. Its my duty, as a councilor."

The color was draining from the old curator's face. "what-What's the meaning of this?" He stammered out. The poor man didn't have the frame of mind to step away from the pedestal, so shocked was he at the idea of his work going to ruin.

"I'm not really sure, Prumorn." Eden stood back up on bare feet. She crossed one arm over her chest, and crooked her chin in her other hand in a gesture of pondering. "Perhaps our guest here can enlighten us?"
 
A brow crested upwards as Minerva was slightly shocked to realize that Eden had known her true intentions all along. She thought Adelaide Alliria’s cover was fairly convincing, what a shame.

”No one gets hurt.”

Her tone was soft, yet firm. ”But I am taking both of these,” a Source back in Rytghosh could determine which one could be destroyed and which one would be hidden away in the great vault. ”If it’s an explanation you want…”

Soft eyes bore into the elderly man before her, he looked more distressed than one of her comrades on a particularly intense mission.

After a brief pause she finally spoke up. ”This thing can alter the sun. No man, nor elf, nor orc was ever meant to possess that sort of power,” she shut both eyelids and shook her head in disapproval, ”the fact such a thing exists is an insult to the creators of Arethil itself.”

Of course, she’d also paid attention to Lady Sinclayr’s words and her intention of stopping her.

With one hand pressed against the lapis amulet that could summon her arcarmor she swallowed and straightened her back. ”I have to ask that you don’t try to stop me. I’m already going to have to break through several walls to find my way out of here, I’d prefer not to knock you unconscious after the hospitality you’ve shown me.”

For an inheritor Madeleine had always been well spoken but the orcish attitude of simply breaking anything in your path was a hard logic to ever get away from.

”The medallion will be safely stored in our vault until the gods return,” she spoke with the conviction that could’ve come straight from one of the Uroghoshi’s sermons.
 
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Baffling, to think that such a level of sincerity could still be found in this world. Eden believed every word that came out of the other woman's mouth, for how could she not? The red-haired stranger spoke with a boldness that belonged only to the very stupid, or the very strong. Something told her that it was the latter. Maybe it was the firm set of her shoulders, or the proud arch of her neck.

The woman offered her retreat, and Eden almost entertained the coward's way out - she was, after all, a merchant and not a warrior. No one would expect anything more of her. Yes, she almost stepped aside, were it not for the last sentence the woman uttered. Oh. That had been the wrong thing to say.

"Until the gods return?" Eden repeated, the words reverberating in the empty room. Her voice had gone dry. Whatever sweetness - real or faked - that had been there before, was gone. "How convenient. And I suppose heathen Alliria will just have to fend for ourselves in the meantime. I wonder, will your gods take responsibility for the lives lost, while they've been away?"

"Ah, who cares."
She reached down and pulled a hidden stiletto out from underneath the length of her dress. One of her bare feet slid forward and traced an arch. A glowing red circle of runes appeared around Eden, oozing a sinister aura into the atmosphere."I thought you might be someone interesting, but it seems you're just another zealot."

With a reckless burst of resolve, Prumorn had been inching behind the woman as they conversed, closer to the pedestal. He made to grab one of the medallions, and stuff it into his curator's robes. If he managed to get that far, he would turn tail and run for one of the doors that exited the room.

Stupid old man, Eden thought with a silent curse under her breath. He was going to get himself killed. She dare not look at him lest the movement of her eyes give something away. Instead, she stood taller, and pointed the thin dagger at the other woman, trying to draw her attention.

"Well then," Eden announced. "Surely you've got some some sort of righteous power you're allowed to pull out? Gods-sanctioned or whatever. Let's see it."
 
The priest landed outside, hard against the cold stonework of the streets.

"Forgive us, good brother!" the short guard called out. "Well, at least forgive me!" he corrected. Xanatos was already making his way back into the museum. The movement caught the other guards eye. "Oy. Xan, hold on now," he took a clumsy step after him, double took to see the priest once more. "Make sure you go an tell the Celestials that-"

A red stab of pain burried itself deep between his shoulder blades. A red rune appeared in the back of his mind. His eyes wide, the horned guard grinned a toothy grin and his nostrils flared as he took in sharp breaths.

He raised a hand, and the shorter guard stopped beside him.
"What is it, Xan?"

"We should find Lady Sinclayr," Xanatos made off, pulled toward Eden's trace of magic.

"Oy! Gods damn it, its not so easy keeping up with those long legs of yours all the time, you know!"
 
Minerva looked upon the noble woman before her with a sad expression, she'd forgotten how those who grew up outside of Rytghosh felt about such things. Preserving their own lives were more important than the very fabric of reality that they toyed with.

"We weren't meant to have such things," she spoke with a shake of her head, prepared to merely incapcitate the two individuals before her. She assumed she wouldn't even need her arcarmor.

But then the old man moved unexpectedly around the same time that Eden Sinclayr began to manifest glowing red runes. Unable to take her attention off the potential threat of magic the curator succeeded in grasping one of the medallions as he ran down the steps.

He was slow. Madeleine could've tackled him easily enough but she'd open herself up to whatever magic it was that Lady Sinclayr possessed. She'd let him go, find him after she dealt with the immediate threat.

"Arcarmor is a necessity to keep Arethil secure." They'd had to hunt down their own before when a Summoner thought themselves above their laws. When they thought they could abuse the magic of their armor.


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Her gemstone, the color of the Ra Gnab Sea, illuminated with a brilliant luster. One second stood the red-haired woman upon the pedestal and then she was replaced by a figure clad in cobalt blue armor. The suit that Minerva wore was sleek and as the heavy material formed around her a slender blade manifested affixed upon her back.

Through the lapis lazuli faceplate she looked down upon the angry red runes that her adversary had created with a shift of her foot. "Get out of my way and forget we ever met."

It was the only warning she planned on offering.
 
The visage of the woman changed completely before Eden's eyes. Not just her appearance, but the weight of her presence. She could feel the power emanating from that sleek blue metal, the way it molded perfectly to the woman's form, bolstered by arcane magic.

One hit from that, and I'll be dead, Eden realized with a morbid rush of excitement. A terrible grin split across her face, devoid of any sense of duty or preservation. When the woman issued her warning, Eden only laughed. "Oh, but you make such an impression!"

It would have been nice to have some flesh to manipulate. She'd have to waste so much of her own mana to make monsters from scratch. Well, it couldn't be helped.

In a grand gesture, Eden slid her stiletto dagger across the open surface of her other palm. A thin line of red welled up there. A single drop of blood fell between her feet, and the runes flared red. Eden stepped back, as the ground inside the circle boiled.

The shape of two war hounds constructed themselves from the mess of blood magic, flesh wrapping over bones, snapping maws growing teeth. The hounds' forms were incomplete, and volatile. They smoked and burned, skin constantly splitting and resealing as whatever arcane energies propelled them churned within.

In unison, the hounds leapt up the stairs, and lunged at the armored woman.
 
It was like the pull of a dark star against the weight of his soul. The deeper pulse of Eden's magic. It near stopped him dead in his tracks. But his red eyes only grew wider with excitement, and his teeth bared proud and hungry as his frame arched and flex in feral response.

"Sargeant," the fiendblood's voice rasped like curls of thick smoke.

"Xan!" the smaller guard reported.

"Rally the guardsman, and evacuate the Gala,"

"Uh, what now?"


Xanatos gnashed his teeth, and smiled wide. "I won't repeat myself,"

The shorter man snapped a salute. "On it!"

Xanatos hurried on to the vault. A straight enough path from the Gala room.

The guardsman busied themselves corralling the guests, who blustered and protested at the sudden shift in protocol. They were here to see a marvel of a bygone age, and paid good coin to do so!

Minerva Eden Sinclayr
 
Beneath the sheen of blue-metal Minerva's eyes went wide. The woman before her was some sort of blood-mage, summoning hounds from the abyss who snarled and barred their teeth at her. They both appeared far more muscular than any normal dog she'd ever encountered but they were still just canines.

She left her blade in its sheath and rose her fists as the pair of creatures lunged up the stairs.

The one on her right attacked first, Madeleine swiftly tucked her body to the side while simultaneously throwing a powerful, arcarmor-fueled, haymaker directly at the thing's throat. To her surprise the beast held its shape but the impact of her blow caused it to emit a loud yelp as it skittered back down the staircase.

Even though she'd been fast in her strike the second hound had used the first as a decoy and burrowed its maw around the wrist that had just thrown a punch. Dammit. Several other profanities sprang up in her mind as the beast kept its hold upon her and bit in with far more pressure than she anticipated.

Her arcane armor shifted and struggled to resist the bite, causing her own flesh to feel the pinch.

There was a time and place to show off and this was no such time nor place. She finally drew the blade from her back with her free hand, twisted her knee to pin the beast attached to her to the stairs, and plunged the pointy-end deep into the hound's body. A sharp shrill of pain rose up from the thing before it seemed to die, though with such foul incarnations who would really say.

Madeleine stumbled back to her feet just in time for the second hound to leap upon her back, biting at her neck.
 
  • Wonder
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