Fantasy Hunter's Moon: Ascendancy [IC] [CLOSED]

[Breadman]

Royland moved about the general goods store, looking around it and taking note of his surroundings. Despite the war and tragedy, there was business here still and it was good enough for them to afford the modern luxury that worked in ways that were beyond him. The knight was an antique walking among modernity and nothing reminded him of that fact more than everyday life of the regular people. The feeling of an old man among younger generations was far in the past. He was a relic that had an increasingly limited utility as time marched on in the mortal realm. But he had to keep moving despite all of that. Not for himself, but for the gods that remain. For her.

"Boy." The knight spoke to the child behind the counter, trying not to scare him "Call your parents for a moment. I'm here on business and their help is needed."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Rajko lazily strolled into the store, but not without relieving his boots of the wilderness dirt. His selection of location was born out of his pathological obsession with firearms and other implements of war, but holding a hint of pragmatism as he wagered that the person who harbored the artifact's hiding place to be a paranoid man. Paranoid enough to arm himself and this gun store is just close enough for Mr. MacKie to regularly exchange his money for tools. The Warbat perused the wares while keeping the store owner within peripherals. The store smelt of wood, beaten with age and dried with the hundred and one boots that have passed through here. The scraping notion of the brush wormed into his ear with pervasive tendency. There was nothing out of the ordinary for now, but situations shift swiftly in these parts. Once Rajko held up the illusion of a customer long enough, he glided towards the counter of the owner. "Hello, my good man-" Rajko introduced, steel-sharp features soften from their professional scowl. Voice edged with the casualness of a traveler, and not the inquisitor. "Recommend me one of those semi-autos." Ordered Rajko, while an elbow leaned easily on the counter. "And I'm looking for something else. I heard there was a family here that once owned a blunderbuss, very old thing. Used by a pirate-- I believe --I was wondering if they were still here and was prepared to spend a sum of money that borders on embarrassment for it."

He asked this question as opposed to directly inquiring about Jayden MacKie because if he did then that might raise alarm within the recipient and stress his chances of finding him. Second, he mentioned the blunderbuss because this was a gunstore and it might have been likely that MacKie (or someone adjust to him) would have visited this place. Likely to sell it or if need be, repair it. The request for a semi-automatic was just a ruse to uphold Rajko's relaxed attitude and had no intention of buying it. Unless, it appealed to him.

 

[Infab]

"Bartender," he said calmly, but firmly, "as ludicrous as it might seem, my friend and I have come to Tresomin on behalf of the Church. My name is Sebastian, and this is Claire. We're looking for someone who may be in serious danger."

"A Daristenian soldier, and a day-walking vampire? Working for the Church?" asked the bartender, as he finished wiping up the spilled beer from the counter. He tossed the rag aside, the cloth landing on a small shelf nearby behind the bar, before looking back to the pair. "You're not even dressed like inquisitors, or those knights they used to have roaming around." His expression was rather serious, and his tone signaled that he was quite unamused by things.

A creak was heard faintly. Chairs sliding away from a table. Claire's hand slipped beneath her coat, eventually finding what it was moving for. A hammer was cocked back, a revolver drawn from its holster. As she turned about, the revolver was revealed and leveled on the nearest man that had moved from his seat at one of the tables. "Now, I know the rest of you aren't nearly as drunk as the man that just wandered out of here. Which means you can recognize what this is in my hand." she stated, her eyes moving from the man with the chest length beard that was in her sights to the other men that had been sitting at the table with him.

"Should you choose to continue to move, say to come towards us or to reach for the weapons on your hips, I'll turn your heads into canoes." she added. Her eyes moved back to the bearded man, who's hand had paused just near the handle of a single-action revolver on his side. He hesitated, his brown eyes darting between her massive gun and her. Eventually, however, he relented. He lifted his hand away from the revolver, holding it up so his palms were showing to her.

"Good man. Stay like that." she said finally, before glancing to the bartender. Whom now was wearing a surprised, and partially terrified, look on his face. "Please, answer my friend's questions. We're quite short on time, you see, and a man's life is in danger." she said politely, before returning her gaze to the rest of the others in the room.

The bartender gulped, before looking back to Sebastian. "A-Alright, who're you looking for? I'll tell you what I know of 'em." he said, his eyes glancing to the gun in Claire's hand every so often.

--- --- ---
​

"Bonne après-midi," she greeted him with a calm nod. "I suppose you are just getting some practice in? I get the feeling many of the patrons here bet on their skills."​

The young man nodded. "Aye, they do." he said, glancing between the balls on the table to figure out his next move. "I lost a game a few days ago to a buddy o' mine. Lost a horse in the process. Getting some practice in for later so I can play him again, and try to get my horse back." He then glanced up towards Camille. "Escarian? Not too many of your type up this way, save for the gunsmith up the street."

"Better than Tsavanians, eh?" stated Cassandra, whom had moved around to the opposite end of the table and folded her arms. She was watching his game as well, eyeing each of the balls and considering what moves he could make to sink them into the table's pockets.

"Aye. Far better than those bastards." he said, his eyes cutting to Cassandra. "An inquisitor too? What're you doing way out here?"

Cassandra, remembering how she was dressed, eventually nodded. "We're looking for a man by the name of Jayden MacKie, and we heard that he lives somewhere around here. We need to ask him some questions regarding one of his ancestors." she replied.

"Jayden? Yeah, I know of 'em. He comes into town sometimes. Played against him a few times too." responded the young man.

"Really now?" asked Cassandra, smirking. "Care to tell us what you know?"

The young man smiled. "Well, I'll make you a deal." he stated, before picking up the nearby triangle rack for the balls. "Help me get a little practice in, and I'll tell you what I know. One game, sixty-one pool." As he finished, he began to arrange the balls in the triangle on one end of the table. "Oh, and the name's Greg. Short for Gregory."

Meanwhile, Azathor had decided to chat up the bartender nearby.

"Greetings. I don't suppose you know about someone named Jayden, right?"

"Jayden? The MacKie boy?" asked the man, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah, I know of him. He comes in here sometimes to play. Usually against the boy Greg there, who your friends are talking to."

The bartender grabbed a nearby glass, taking a cloth and beginning to clean it out. "Beyond that, he's a regular over at the tavern, I think. Don't know much about him beyond that, really, besides he has a taste for rum while he plays. You know how hard it is to get rum up this way? Especially with the war going on?"

--- --- ---​

"Apologies for any inconvenience, but we are looking for someone and wanted to inquire whether you or anyone staying here may be familiar with them," the hermit began simply, glancing back at Rebecca to have her continue, just in case; the man may well be more willing to listen to the particulars from her than him.​

Rebecca nodded. "Yes. My name is Rebecca Witlocke, and this is my friend Xiaòzhou. We are here on behalf of the Church, and we're looking for a man by the name of Jayden MacKie. Would you happen to know of him? Or perhaps know of someone that might know of him?" she asked.

The man behind the front desk scratched his head, thinking for a moment. "MacKie... Jayden MacKie..." he muttered, before eventually shaking his head. "I personally don't know of a Jayden MacKie, though my employer might know of him. If you'll wait here for a brief moment, I'll go and fetch her."

"Certainly. We'll remain here." responded Rebecca, glancing to Xiaòzhou briefly. The clerk nodded, before stepping from behind the desk and heading into the other room to their left. And it wasn't long before the clerk returned with a woman trailing behind him. Dressed in an elegant blue dress, her black hair styled just so, and wearing lovely green jewelry around her neck and on her hands. She also was clutching one of those long cigarette holders, a lit cigarette fitted onto the end with smoke wavering gently away from it.

"Welcome to the White Stag Inn. My name is Excella Garrington. My clerk, Mr. Fitzgerald, tells me you're looking for someone?" stated the woman, her voice sounding more mainland-ish like that of the clerk's. Her eyes darted between the pair of Rebecca and Xiaòzhou, and see seemed rather unimpressed with both of them.

Rebecca didn't seem phased by it at all. "Yes, my lady. We're here on behalf of the Church. We're looking for a man by the name of Jayden MacKie. Would you happen to know of him?" asked the Saint, giving the woman a smile at the end.

"Mr. MacKie worked as one of my personal butchers at my ranch a few miles to the west. The man could carve meat like no other." she stated, almost sounding proud of him. "Alas, he had to move on. Last I heard, he was doing some odd jobs for the church here in town."

Rebecca nodded. "Thank you, Lady Garrington." she said, bowing slightly to the lady before looking to Xiaòzhou. "It seems I made the right call to want to visit the church next."

--- --- ---
​

"Boy." The knight spoke to the child behind the counter, trying not to scare him "Call your parents for a moment. I'm here on business and their help is needed."​

It didn't take much at all to get the boy's attention, as the thought of a knight being in their tiny store interested him far more than whatever it was he was doing. He soon nodded rapidly, before darting from behind the counter in search of his father. And it wouldn't be long at all before Royland found himself helmet to face with the young boy's father. "Uhm, yes? What might you need, sir knight?" asked the confused man, as the boy stood behind him. Clutching at his father's arm.

--- --- ---
​

"Recommend me one of those semi-autos." Ordered Rajko, while an elbow leaned easily on the counter. "And I'm looking for something else. I heard there was a family here that once owned a blunderbuss, very old thing. Used by a pirate-- I believe --I was wondering if they were still here and was prepared to spend a sum of money that borders on embarrassment for it."​

"Ahhh, the semi-automatics." responded the gunsmith, pausing his work for a moment to venture over to the case were the pistols were on display. "Quite popular these days, thanks to the speed of use, self-cocking mechanisms after firing, and quick reloading. At the moment, I would recommend the Luger. Daristeinian design, and it's action is based off the toggle-lock action used in the earlier Borchardt pistol. Quite accurate, and very reliable. Uses the new nine-millimeter Luger ammunition, so it boasts exquisite stopping power as well."

He then chuckled. "It may sound strange for an Escarian to be recommending Daristeinian weaponry, but they do know how to produce excellent firearms. I've heard that the Atracans have developed a new semi-automatic pistol chambered in the thirty-eight caliber, but I have yet to get my hands on one to see how well it performs." As he finished, he drew the Luger from the case, along a magazine. "It has some weight to it, thanks to the action, but its certainly a nice weapon. Has eight shots per magazine."

"As for your blunderbuss, I do recall a man coming by and asking how much one he had would be worth." he stated afterwards. "I told him after some restoration and cleanup, likely a few gold notes. I think the man's name was MacKie or something. He's still around. Likes to bird hunt nearby when duck season comes in."

 

[Damian0358]

Similarly to Rebecca, he wasn't exactly phased either by the look the inn's owner had given them, he was far too used to them. However, she thankfully gave them another lead, to Rebecca's merriment. "We should not waste a second more then, let us head to the church posthaste then," he replied to Rebecca, before turning towards the inn owner.

"Thank you, Madame Garrington, we hope we haven't been a bother. May you and Sir Fitzgerald have a wonderful day," he said, bowing in his own fashion. With a glance towards Rebecca, it was clear both of them were ready to head out.

 

[K0mori]

"...Meine Götter, really?" Sebastian said with minor disgust as he looked toward the bar patrons - especially the one who reached for his gun - and then back at the bartender. "Wenn das Vaterland eine Marine sprosst, hättest du schon vorher bemerkt," he spat, before regaining his composure. "You have it right in that we are not inquisitors, but that changes nothing. Adona had his reasons for plucking me off the battlefield in Escaria and sending me here; I have long since stopped questioning it. And if you think we're a strange pair, you ought to see whom else he sent."

Sebastian reached into one of his jacket pockets and pulled out a few luger magazines and set them down on the bar top. "Take a close look at these," he said simply.

The bartender picked one up cautiously and examined it, his eyes widening as he realized the bullets were gold-tipped. The ones in the next magazine, he quickly realized, were glinting with the characteristic luster of silver.

"Jayden MacKie," Sebastian said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear him clearly, before leaning in close to the bartender and lowering his voice, deathly serious. "The Gods sent people like us, packing bullets like these, to find that man before something else does. Now, can you help us calm things down a little in here and tell us where we might find him?"

 

[Dmaster]

A gloved hand touched the knuckle of its index finger against her chin as their lead states that they will only divulge them if she is to play his game, her lip twisting with slight conflict. "Well, young Gregory, I do have respect for one that wishes to hone their skills. Especially after a loss some may find crippling," Camille began, starting to walk over to the walls and obtain a pool cue as she inspected it in the lamp light. Seems as though she was trying to grab the most finely crafted one, or at the very least the one that had not been as worn down as the others on the rack.

"Yet the truly dedicated do not allow their failures to define them, so I suppose I could grant you the practice you're after. However we are on a bit of a tight schedule, so hopefully you do not mind discussing your information as we play, oui?" The huntress was trying to be agreeable but was honest in saying that they had little time to waste in finding this man. "Though I am rather out of practice, so this game may be quite quick regardless," she muses, finally selecting a cue to play with as she steps back toward the table.

After the balls were racked, she placed the cue ball across from them, leaning forward as she prepares to break.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The inquisitor cocked a half-smile in the face of Escarian's comments. A finger trailed over the table to press on the luger's grip. "Not at all, my friend." Rajko replied softly. "Appreciation for the technical wizardry that makes these wonderous pieces of steel and gunpowder or the firearms themselves is nothing to be ashamed about, regardless of your national origins. Take my rifle for instance," Leaning to the side, the rifle tilted before being caught on the edge of the Warbat's shoulder by its strap. "Incredibly reliable weapon." Rajko, garbed in his inquisitorial uniform, obfuscated the Nagant revolver and dragoon sabre on his hip by mindfully shifting his body and sinking a fingernail's length deeper into the shadow that draped over him by the coat's voluminous embrace.

A gloved hand coiled around the luger's grip, dragging the pistol across then off the table. Rajko attentively made sure the business end of the pistol was never pointed at the shop clerk or himself. Producing his left side, the inquisitor's rifle was in full view. Rajko held the pistol, noting the angled grip with the wooden surface fitting comfortably in his hand. Rajko bounced the hand allowing the pistol's weight to impress on him. Then he lifted the luger to eyelevel, taking aim menacingly at the adjacent wall. He placed the pistol in front of the gunshop owner. A hand vanished beneath the inquisitor's shadow and fished out a sum of currency which would satisfy the purchase of the firearm and ammo. "Returning to the topic at hand. How long ago did MacKie ask about the blunderbuss? Or better if you know where they are?"

 

[Breadman]

Uhm, yes? What might you need, sir knight?

"I'm searching for someone. A man named Jayden MacKie." The knight noticed the boy didn't go away, instead clinging to his father and staring at him. Normal for children to do so. Knights and chivalry have long faded into the pages of history and he might as well be the last one still walking around in full armor instead of it decorating some lord's castle. Now he shouldn't stare for too long. "I'm with the Church and we believe that he's in mortal peril. So if you know where he is, I urge you to share."

 

[joshuadim]

"Jayden? The MacKie boy?" asked the man, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah, I know of him. He comes in here sometimes to play. Usually against the boy Greg there, who your friends are talking to."

The bartender grabbed a nearby glass, taking a cloth and beginning to clean it out. "Beyond that, he's a regular over at the tavern, I think. Don't know much about him beyond that, really, besides he has a taste for rum while he plays. You know how hard it is to get rum up this way? Especially with the war going on?"

Azathor cocked an eyebrow as he turned his attention towards where Camille and Cassandra were, beginning to play a game with this 'Greg', before returning his attention back to the bartender of the establishment. "I wouldn't know, I don't drink." Azathor replied with a smirk, "Thanks for your help." He turned quickly to head over to the pool table of his companions, who were just about ready to play. The demon was content to simply stand at the opposite end of the table with arms crossed to observe and to listen to whatever conversation they might have pertinent to their search.

 

[Infab]

"Thank you, Madame Garrington, we hope we haven't been a bother. May you and Sir Fitzgerald have a wonderful day."

"If you should find Mr. MacKie, tell him that his spot on my ranch is always open if he wishes to return. I'll even pay him double just to come back. The current butchers are total idiots." responded the lady, before turning about and heading quickly back into the other room. Mr. Fitzgerald remained where he was, giving both of them a slight bow before returning to the position he had been in before behind the front desk.

Rebecca soon turned about as well, motioning for Xiaòzhou to follow as she stepped back outside the establishment. Moving towards the eastern side of town, her steps gave off a more audible clacking as she walked across the wooden deck in front of the inn before stepping off onto the dirt path once more. More gazes from the citizens of the town were given, watching this armored templar and foreigner move through down the street. In search of the church that they had seen on the way in.

And soon enough, they would find it. It reminded both of them of the church they had seen back in Gravewood, simplistic in design and having almost one main room to occupy the church's entire structure. The steeple jutting up over the entrance of the church bore the metal emblem of the Divine Church, which seemed to act more like a lightning rod with how high up it had been placed on the structure. Stained glass windows marked the sides, with three large windows on each side and two on the front. A few pedestrians stood near the front, chatting with one another. Likely those that had just gone and prayed to their patron gods.

Imagine how they'd feel knowing the gods themselves were being killed off?

The pair soon move passed those civilians, getting even more looks, before quietly stepping through the white double doors of the church. Inside, rows of empty pews stretching up to the front where the priest's podium stood on an elevated platform. Behind it, a silent organ to the left and a large stone altar in the center in the back. On it were candles, as well as miniature golden statues of each of the gods. Adona in the center, and flanked to the left by Velin and right by Undite. Gyasis stood beside Undite, and Thiasis stood beside Velin.

A priest stood at the podium, apparently reading something that was sitting atop it. An older man, with short grey hair. He wore a black robe, which featured a white collar around the neck. From the collar hung a medallion shaped like the Divine Church's emblem, fixed to the collar by a strip of gold ribbon. He didn't seem to notice them enter until Rebecca spoke up.

"Good day, Father." she stated, walking up the aisle towards where the priest stood. Her armor still clacking loudly as she walked across the wooden floorboards of the church. "I am Rebecca Witlocke of the Vigilant Order, sent from Eternis. This is my friend Xiaòzhou. We're here to ask you about a man by the name of Jayden MacKie, and where we might find him."

--- --- ---
​

"Jayden MacKie," Sebastian said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear him clearly, before leaning in close to the bartender and lowering his voice, deathly serious. "The Gods sent people like us, packing bullets like these, to find that man before something else does. Now, can you help us calm things down a little in here and tell us where we might find him?"​

After seeing the bullets laid out before him, with their tips made of supernatural-harming precious metals, the bartender finally began to realize that they were actually the real deal. "...S-Sit down, boys. Just leave these two be. Beers are on the house for the trouble." he said, glancing between the other patrons that had stood up ready to fight.

The others looked among one another, occasionally turning back to eyeball both Sebastian and Claire, before eventually sitting back down. Claire smiled, lowering the hammer back into a safer position as they sat. "Excellent." she said simply, twirling the revolver around on her finger before sliding it back into her holster.

The bartender looked back to Sebastian afterwards. "Yeah, Jayden's a regular. Used to work out on the Garrington Ranch a few miles west of here, but does work for the church these days. Last I spoke to him, he was trying to pawn off this old blunderbuss to the gunsmith before eventually deciding to keep it. Think its a family heirloom or something. But if you're looking for him, I'd try over at the sawmill north of town. I heard he was trying to get hired on there a week ago. Maybe he got the job, because I haven't been seeing him much lately."

--- --- ---
​

"Yet the truly dedicated do not allow their failures to define them, so I suppose I could grant you the practice you're after. However we are on a bit of a tight schedule, so hopefully you do not mind discussing your information as we play, oui?" The huntress was trying to be agreeable but was honest in saying that they had little time to waste in finding this man. "Though I am rather out of practice, so this game may be quite quick regardless,"​

"Yeah, this'll be just a quick practice game. Not too long at all." responded Gregory, as he set up the balls using the triangle rack. Once they were arranged just so, he stepped back with the rack and allowed Camille to make the first shot to break. And as the game got underway, Cassandra sighed silently. As much as she liked the game, she didn't really have any interest in watching Camille play it. She'd like more to play against her, but they'd have to save that for another time. So while they would play and chat, Cassandra would move around where Azathor was standing towards the door. "I'll be just outside." she stated, waving a hand over her shoulder as she moved to the door.

Outside, she moved over to one of the benches just outside the pool hall and sat down. A leg crossed over the other, and she sat back. Trying to get as relaxed as she could, she took up a pass time as old as history. People watching.

Which wouldn't last long, because a young voice drew her attention.

"Are you an inqu-...those people that wear those black clothes? From the church?" said a little blonde girl whom had walked up, standing to Cassandra's left. She had likely come from one of the stores down the street, or wandered over from their parent nearby. She wore a cute little white dress, not as poofy as what was currently popular down on the mainland and long enough to stretch down to her ankles. On her feet, baby blue shoes. The girl couldn't have been much older than ten.

Cassandra glanced down at her outfit yet again. She did this to herself, continuing to wear the garb of an inquisitor. Old habits die hard. "Yes, young one. I am." she responded, with a slight smile. "I'm waiting for my friends inside."

The little girl looked behind her, through the window to where Camille, Azathor, and Gregory were playing their game. "My mother says you hunt monsters...are there monsters around Tresomin?" soon said the little girl, as her gaze returned to Cassandra.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough. We're actually looking for someone." responded Cassandra, "Nasty demons are looking for him, so we're going to find him first and protect him." She then pondered a thought for a brief moment. Well, maybe this girl knows him? "Have you heard of a man named Jayden MacKie?"

The girl seemed to think over the name for a moment, before rapidly shaking her head.

Meanwhile, back inside, Gregory began to chat about Jayden as he and Camille took their turns. So far, Gregory was in the lead in points, but Camille was quickly catching up. "Jayden's got this thing about trick shots when it comes to pool. Some fancy moves he can do with the balls. Doubt things like that will catch on with the game, but they look fun at least." he stated, lining up a shot and taking it. The cue ball clacked into another, before the ball it hit smacked into another and sank it into a pocket. "I'm guessing the questions you have for Jayden involve pirates, right? He's mentioned a few of them were pirates, and even has a blunderbuss one of them used. He tried to sell it to the gunsmith, but ended up changing his mind."

A few turns later, he spoke again. "He mentioned working a bit for the church during our last game, but said he was intending to try and get hired on over at the sawmill up north. Big place, so they need a lot of hands to get it working right. Hasn't stopped the Garringtons from trying to pull him back to their ranch to be their butcher again, though."

--- --- ---
​

The Escarian gunsmith nodded as Rajko spoke of his rifle. "Marvelous things, bolt-actions. Though I do wonder when they will start adapting the semi-automatic action to rifles. It would revolutionize weapons as we know them, I think." he commented, before thanking Rajko as he paid for the Luger and its ammunition. Then, Rajko posed another question.

"Returning to the topic at hand. How long ago did MacKie ask about the blunderbuss? Or better if you know where they are?"​

"Oh, about two weeks ago. Decided he wanted to keep the weapon, after I mentioned the work he'd need to put it through in order for it to sell well." said the gunsmith, "As for where he is now, I honestly couldn't tell you. Could try the church, I guess? I've seen him wander over there a few times. I've also heard that the sawmill to the north was hiring, so perhaps he went there as well."

--- --- ---
​

"I'm searching for someone. A man named Jayden MacKie. I'm with the Church and we believe that he's in mortal peril. So if you know where he is, I urge you to share."​

"MacKie's in danger? From what?" asked the shopkeep. "The man seems harmless. Comes in and buys a few supplies every week with the money he makes from the church and sawmill." He then shrugged. "I couldn't tell you where he is at the moment, though. Earlier this morning, he was over near the tavern talking to one of the Garringtons. Rich folk, own a ranch a few miles to the west."

 

[Dmaster]

The huntress could not help but give Cassandra a look as she made it clear how she was looking to excuse herself, having decided to go with her to the pool hall to keep an eye on her like she was meant to. With her focus on Gregory and the game, she could not rightly back out of it to follow the pureblood. To Camille's credit she did state she indeed was out of practice, thus she did not seem all that frustrated with how Gregory was beating her in the game at the moment. A few missed shots got her to wince ever so slightly, her lip twitching just a bit as the focus remained in her eyes.

"Indeed, it is related to his ties with piracy, in a way," the huntress replied before taking a shot of her own, this time the ball hitting its mark before landing in the pocket. Despite the minor victory, her expression did not change all that much. "Worry not though, we're not necessarily looking to interrogate or imprison him." With that reassurance, she continued to listen to Gregory converse.

"Ah, so I suppose he's not one to live in town, probably a bit of a reclusive sort. We've others questioning his whereabouts in the church, so that seems like it may be a good lead," Camille replied. "If I may ask, when was the last time you saw him?"

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Rajko nodded serenely with the Escarian gunsmith's chatter, absorbing the information. The inquisitor dragged away the luger along with the ammunition, thanking the gunsmith for the transaction. With new weapon in tow, the Warbat of Atraca vacated the premises with haste. The shadowy figure stalked Tresomin, ready to report back to his peers with the findings. The sun glared dagger-condescending down onto the shifter, his black clothes and sharp-brimmed hat standing out more so than the rifle that slung around his shoulder. The air tickled the hairs of his nostrils, as if the winds of change were blowing into this homely town. Perhaps they were, perhaps they weren't but Rajko would do well to remind himself of their predicament. He recalled Camille, Cassandra, and Azathor scouting the pool hall for information.

Upon reaching the establishment, the former hunter's keen eyes spotted the pureblood conversing with a child. Little girl, no older than ten most likely. Eyes squinted in suspicion while Rajko constrained his form heavily, becoming flatter in shape as gloved hand reached for the Nagant revolver around his waist. Each step brought him closer and closer until he towered over the sitting vampire and the little girl. The bone paleness of Rajko's features, scars zig-zagging aside the head and the two vertical puncture wounds, gave stark contrast against the encircling black attire. "Cassandra," He called calmly, not wishing to startle the child. Peering down from his vantage, he noted the absence of Camille and Azathor. "Our "friends" are in there." A curt nod towards the building. It was not a question, though it was phrased as one. He would be surprised if she was merely loitering on this bench while the others scuttled off to somewhere.

A passing urge told him to stake the creature with questions, like why was she so transfixed on that estate earlier. But cooler heads prevailed and Rajko resolved to report briefly, but nothing of value. "The gunsmith had a detail or two worth remembering." He did not say more or ask for confirmation from Cassandra about their gathering, despite the girl's faultless demure there had been no way for him to trust her. He kept the little one within peripheral and hand softly but readily clutching the handle of his gun.

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou had seen many a church with this styling, albeit with more modest interiors - the organ was a nice sight, and the miniatures of the divine were nicer-looking than some he had seen (and golden too). The hermit mainly found himself observing as Rebecca engaged the priest. As she introduced herself, he turned to face the priest in time for his introduction.

"Any information on where he may be would be of great help, sir," the hermit continued on from Rebecca.

 

[K0mori]

"So the man works odd jobs," Sebastian said as he slipped his magazines back into his pocket. He turned to Claire. "If he's at the church, then the others might have already found him. If they haven't, then we ought to go to the sawmill and see if he's there. It doesn't bode well that he hasn't been around lately." He turned back to the bartender for a moment. "Danke, Barkeeper. If all is well on our mission, I'll write a letter to Eternis and inform them that you helped us. May I have your name, Herr...?"

 

[Breadman]

"What present danger he's in, I cannot freely say out of concerns for the town's wellbeing." Royland responded to the shopkeep's question. "Rest assured that the matter is handled by capable hands." The knight was quiet for a moment as he took out a pouch and tossed it on the counter. The contents rattled inside, almost spilling outside by the impact. Money that the treasurer's lamented giving him due to his spending habits. "For the information and incentive to keep your silence for now." He tilted his head to the boy "Might I suggest you impart the wisdom of discretion to the little one." Royland snapped with a finger and a spark flew from between his fingers, enough to get the boy's attention for a time. "Listen to your elders and what they say on the matter. Rumors and whispers can lead people down the wrong paths."

The knight slightly bowed his head as gratitude for the information the shopkeep gave him. He didn't have a location, but he had a name. He just needed to put a face to it. Maybe someone at the tavern had already done the work.

 

[Infab]

"Ah, so I suppose he's not one to live in town, probably a bit of a reclusive sort. We've others questioning his whereabouts in the church, so that seems like it may be a good lead," Camille replied. "If I may ask, when was the last time you saw him?"

"Three days ago. He was just leaving the general store when I came into town. Had some cans in his arms. Baked beans, peaches, and so on. Foodstuffs." responded Gregory. Surprisingly, Gregory's next shot missed. And Camille took advantage of it by sinking a few more balls in the pockets. Soon enough, she had gained a sizable lead in score. Only a few balls remained on the table by that point, and it was quite clear that the game was nearly over. He sighed, rubbing his eyes a bit. It was very possible he was about to lose. "Only other place I could tell you to check if you wanted to find him would be the Garrington place out west. Maybe they finally convinced him to come back to work for them, if he's not up at the sawmill." he added to his previous statement.

He attempted to sink a few more balls, but missed again after sinking one more. Allowing Camille to finish the game by clearing the table. "Well, looks like I'll need a bit more practice on my own." he soon stated, setting the pool cue on the table and folding his arms. "Good game, though. Always nice to play with someone that isn't interested in taking all your money and other valuables."


Outside, both Cassandra and the little girl that had walked up glanced up to Rajko as he walked up and spoke.

"Cassandra," He called calmly, not wishing to startle the child. Peering down from his vantage, he noted the absence of Camille and Azathor. "Our "friends" are in there."

Cassandra frowned slightly, and a hint of annoyance was detectable in her voice. "Yes. I know that. Camille and Azathor have it handled. One of the locals convinced Camille to play a game of pool with him so that he could tell us what he knew of Jayden." she responded, "I decided I'd wait out here. Not too interested in watching Camille potentially win something else."

She then glanced to the child, whom was eyeing Rajko intensely. "This is another of our group. He's one of the cautious type. Don't worry about him." said Cassandra, motioning to Rajko as she spoke to the little girl.

She then shifted her attention back to Rajko. "So, what did the gunsmith have to say on our friend?" she soon asked, curious as to what Rajko discovered.

--- --- ---
​

The priest looked up from whatever he was looking down at on the surface of the podium, adjusting the glasses resting on his nose so that he could see them better. "Ah! Welcome! I am Father Hamilton. Happy to assist in any way I can, noble inquisitor." he said, happily greeting the pair as they approached.

He straightened up, his eyes tracing the details of Rebecca's templar armor as a hand reached up to his chin. "You're looking for young MacKie? Has he done something wrong?" he soon asked.

"No, Father, he hasn't. At least to our knowledge." she responded with a light chuckle. "We have need to speak with him regarding one of his ancestors. We've spoken to some of the locals at the Inn, whom said that he did odd jobs here for the church. We thought you might have knowledge of where he may be at the moment."

"Ah! Well, yes. He does do some duties here for us from time to time. Cleaning, painting, simple jobs here and there. He never asks for payment, but we pay him anyway. A good man, really!" said the priest, with a nod. "As for where he may be, I think he might be working over at the sawmill to the north, or he may be back working at the Garrington estate west of here."

"We've spoken with Lady Garrington previously at the Inn, and she seemed to have not met him recently. Unless her husband doesn't tell her everything." responded Rebecca, glancing towards her comrade beside her.

The priest nodded. "That's the truth. The Garringtons tend not to converse often." he soon said. "I don't believe they even speak with their children much unless money is directly involved in their affairs." he said. "And neither of them are willing to come to church. Too busy with their own lives, I guess, or might have simply lost faith. A few others of my flock have, since Velin purges began."

Rebecca's eyes slowly drifted downward as the priest spoke of the purges. "Aye. Attrocities that a good, just god would have never committed or conceived." she stated, her tone serious. "I lost faith in Her quite a long time ago, and found new faith in Adona. He is why I remained with the Church, and the Vigilant Order, for as long as I have."

The priest smiled. "I'm glad you still have some form of faith, Inquisitor. People need something to believe in in turbulent times like these. Something other than money, bullets, and politics." he said.

Rebecca soon smiled as well. "Well, thank you, Father. You've been most helpful." she stated, before raising a hand. "...Would you mind if I offered a blessing for you and your church?"

The priest looked slightly confused. "Inquisitor...usually I'm the one giving the blessings." he replied. "Priestly duties and all."

Rebecca chuckled. "Yes, but I'm a bit more than just an inquisitor, really." she said. She then held up her arm, hand stretched open and palm facing the ceiling. She shut her eyes, and muttered a string of words that were practically impossible to understand for the old priest. Xiaòzhou, however, could understand them. Thanks to his dealings with Cassiel, and the former Demon King which was currently bound to him.

It was a rather lengthy blessing, asking for both the gods and the archangels to offer their protection and aid to the church and its congregation should they ever have need of it. She also cast a ward on the building, protecting it from dark and nefarious forces that would bring harm to those within its walls. And as she spoke, a beam of golden light began to form from her palm. Glittering sparks seem to float about it, encircling it as it stretched up to the ceiling above. And a golden light seemed to also gleam from her eyes as well, contained just barely by her shut eyelids.

The priest looked shocked at display, and even maintained the expression as Rebecca finished her blessing. "...What exactly are you, child?" he would soon ask.

She smiled simply, her now normal eyes opening and looking back up to the priest. "...Someone who cares." she said, before turning about. And a moment later, she departed, Xiaòzhou following behind and a dumbstruck priest left at the podium.

--- --- ---
​

"Danke, Barkeeper. If all is well on our mission, I'll write a letter to Eternis and inform them that you helped us. May I have your name, Herr...?"​

"Oh, erm, Carson. Frank Carson." responded the bartender. "And hope things do go well. We don't need another incident like the one a few years back."

One of the other men in the room spoke up. A guy wearing a beat up bowler cap, and wearing faded blue jeans and a blue shirt with a red vest over it. "Yeah. Damn estate south of 'ere gets shot to hell. Burnt up too. Heard most those inside were bloodsuckers, though. Also heard the ones that did it were some group of werewolves posin' as Atracan cavalry, being ordered around by some blonde woman clad in black and ol' Duke Ashwood."

Claire nodded. "You heard correctly." she stated, folding her arms. "The blonde was a pureblood vampire, as was the Duke. On behalf of vampiric kind, I apologize for the destruction they wrought."

"Why are you apologizin'? We didn't lose anybody important around 'ere in that mess." was the man's response. "They just burned down a building and killed a bunch o' yer own kind. Only bit that bothered me was the inquisitors and soldiers that were all over the damn place for the next few weeks after. Nosey bastards, all o' 'em."

Claire cocked an eyebrow. "Well, alright then..." she muttered, before turning to Sebastian. "We should let the others know. Then head over to the sawmill, unless they found out another potential location."

--- --- ---
​

Royland's sack of coins, and the spark that shot from his fingers, were enough to get the attention of both the shop keep as well as the young boy. The shopkeep nodded rapidly. "Hopefully it isn't going to be anything like that estate fire." he said, taking the sack and looking inside. "And hopefully not in town."

The boy nodded rapidly as well, eyeballing Royland still even after the sparks that he had made with his fingers. Maybe he got through to the boy and he'd stay quiet. But he had other things to focus on at the moment. Garrington. Maybe their ranch to the west, too.

 

[Dmaster]

She was of two minds at the moment, one focused on the game at hand and the other absorbing as much information as possible. "A supply run like I thought, but this Garrington locale to the West could prove to be a good lead." Her next shot is a bit of a gambit, though it pays off with her performing a calculated shot in which the side of a ball glances another, veering it off into the pocket. From there she chains several easier shots together to earn her lead and ultimately win the game.

Camille actually took her win gracefully, a warm smile on her face that wasn't of any superiority whatsoever. "It was a fine game, I thank you both for the reprieve as well as the valuable information," the huntress said to Gregory, extending an open palm to provide him with an honorable handshake. "Keep at it and don't be discouraged, and I am certain you'll be taking the land of those nobles in no time at all," she joked, granting him a nod of her head and wishing him farewell.

Taking her leave, she exits the pool hall and finds herself in the presence of both Cassandra and Rajko, her eyes glancing at the pureblood with quiet scrutiny before she speaks. "Well, young Gregory was kind enough to give as much information as he could, and plays quite decently too," Camille says to the both of them. "He was last seen buying canned goods from the general store about three days ago, and he surmised that he works at the sawmill some days. That could potentially be a place for us to check," she starts.

"Yet he did also mention a Garrington location to the West of town. Whether this is some kind of estate or something else entirely, I am not sure. Did not think to ask. That seems like it is also a good lead to go on," Camille concludes, her hand going to her hip as she looks to the others. In that small moment of silence, she could not help but notice the presence of the little girl, putting on an awkward smile to make her look less scary in her armor.

 

[joshuadim]

Azathor had observed for the game's duration as Camille sparred with Gregory in pool, and remained silent while the two spoke to one another as the game progressed. Fortunately, it seemed that Camille was able to come out victorious, and Azathor gave her a small nod before following her out of the establishment. Having gotten the information they needed, Azathor was eager to get going. Time was of the essence after all, especially with the potential danger posed to Jayden's life given his importance in finding a godly artifact. When Camille reported her findings to the others who were near at the front of the pool hall as well, Azathor saw fit to chime in as well: "If he's picking up canned food then maybe he's preparing to be alone for a time?" the demon inquired, rubbing his chin. "Stocking up on supplies, especially since he is a bit of a recluse, could mean he's at his home wherever it may be."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Rajko hummed ever so slightly, jostling the revolver under his coat in a lazy manner. Before his lips parted to illuminate the matters that he learned, Camille soon departed from the pool hall having gleamed information from the patrons. Rajko, shifting side to side in his place, listened to whatever the woman had to say before finally reporting himself. "The gunsmith is an enthusiastic fellow -- certainly when it comes to firearms. J-M," choosing to refer by Jayden MacKie's initials rather than blurting out his entire name. "tried to part himself with his forefather's blunderbuss, this was two weeks ago but grew agued with the idea at the last moment and the transaction was never done. This could mean that he is or was starved of money. An antique blunderbuss in operable condition could have given him the funds necessary to at least depart from Tresomin." Azathor then spoke up about Jayden's supply stacking which Camille mentioned as well. Rajko revolved his head to face the demon before speaking again. "Or it could be mean that he is preparing for flight, though we don't have enough to prove either option."

Rajko folded his arms. "As for locations... The gunsmith also indicated the sawmill, corroborating Gregory's summation. He also mentioned the Church, though I doubt J-M is churchly-oriented to actually visit it." Rajko pauses briefly, a hand swam up to cup his mouth and nose. Calling upon his deductive reasoning Rajko explained. "If he knew -- or the very least possessed an inkling -- as to the danger that he found himself in then the logical choice would be to flee, but he could not and would not simply take a horse and ride over the trodden path. The sawmill is to the north and more than likely isolated. Gregory guessed that he worked there. There would be the beginning. When folks flee, they begin from a premises or place that they are familiar with then continue onward. The woods are not hospitable for the average man, but one driven with a potential fear? Then they seem quite inviting." He finishes.

But then addresses the concern. "This hinges on the fact that he knows that someone or thing is after him, which isn't entirely conducive with the information so far. Has anyone asked whether he acted strangely these last few days? Buying food or ammo is not quite a strange behaviour, though I don't need to remind." He then began to imitate what a panicked man would look like. "Restless hands, frantic glances, sweat drenched, and/or --" His voice raised and quivered weakly, edged with the rims of fear. "S-speak with hesitancy and... fear intoned." He then promptly ceased his theatrical career before it drew the attention of the ordinary locals. "Anyway, we should find the others."

 

[K0mori]

Claire cocked an eyebrow. "Well, alright then..." she muttered, before turning to Sebastian. "We should let the others know. Then head over to the sawmill, unless they found out another potential location."

"Ja..." Sebastian replied tiredly. He turned one last time to the crowd. "One more thing: none of you saw us. Anyone who's on our side won't ask you about us or what we're doing; they'd already know."

Sebastian and Claire stepped out into the street and untied their horses. The late day sunlight made the young soldier squint, and he paused a moment to take in the fresh air. "I suppose we'll find the others at the church. If Jayden was known for doing work for them, then that's where they'd have checked as well," he muttered, halfway to himself. In truth his mind was still digesting what had been said of Cassandra's prior escapades in the area. "...As we go along, I'm feeling more convinced that Cassandra is more dangerous than she's worth," he finally said.

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou stood to the side with a smile, as Rebecca handled the conversation with Father Hamilton. With what they had learned, it was clear that the sawmill was where they should head next, though the conversation briefly turned towards faith. As Rebecca gave her thanks, he similarly bowed, but then he noted her raising her hand.

The hermit had had few opportunities to see Rebecca engage in her saintly abilities, but the moment she spoke in ancient tongue, he knew he was about to witness a true blessing. She glew with an awesome power, one he could only imagine would cause those outside, if there were any, to ponder what was going on. Father Hamilton's expression, expectedly, was one of astoundment. As the blessing came to an end, a familiar voice popped into his head.

"[...the poor man could not have seen this coming,]" Zazriel spoke out, "[what a sight!]"

Xiaòzhou could only nod to himself smirking in response, the priest must certainly feel himself quite perturbed at the moment in the face of things. Soon enough, final remarks are made, and the hermit, with one last glance over at Father Hamilton, turned to follow Rebecca out of the church. Once it was clear no one was around to hear them, he asked her.

"...do we make our way to the sawmill now, or do we find the others and head all there together?" he asked simply.

 

[Breadman]

Royland joined the rest as they gathered near the tavern. Linking up with Claire and young Sebastian again, catching the tail end of the soldier's worries.

"She's an asset to the church for the time being and has been given a pardon by the Lady herself. Once our mission is done, we should see no-more of her." He wasn't sure of the last part, but the looming threat didn't give them much time to pick and choose who to ally with. "Our man is either at the sawmill or the church. If lady Rebecca had met with him, it would be very fortuitous, but I don't put much stock in luck these days." He glanced towards their horses. "... or another possibility is the property owned by the family Garrington. He had been working for them and a visit wouldn't be amiss."

 

[Infab]

Cassandra listened quietly as the others spoke, glancing between them as they mentioned what they had learned and spoke their own thoughts on the matter. The sawmill seemed like an excellent place to start, really. It was still daylight, and it was likely that he was still at work if he secured a job there. If he wasn't there, the Garrington ranch would be their second option.

"Anyway, we should find the others."

"Yeah. Looks like its about time." responded Cassandra, standing up and taking one final look towards the little girl. She smiled a bit, before digging in her pocket beneath her cloak. Eventually, her hand was revealed, holding out some coins to the little girl. "For you. Go buy yourself some candy. And don't tell anyone that we were here, okay?" she said, as the girl reached up to take the money.

The girl nodded rapidly in response, as the coins fell into her hands. And it wasn't long before the little girl had wandered off in search of the general store. Cassandra watched her depart, before turning back to the others and waving her hand forward. "Let's go." she said simply, before moving herself. Stepping off the walkway and into the street.

As they arrived back at their horses, they found that Claire, Sebastian, and Royland had beat them back. And soon enough, Rebecca and Xiaòzhou had returned as well. "He's not at the inn or the church, but Father Hamilton mentioned that he's likely up at the sawmill. That or at the Garrington ranch to the west." stated Rebecca, as she walked up.

Claire nodded. "Yes, that what we've all seemed to have learned." she responded, glancing to the others as she spoke. "It seems we have two locations to visit. The question now is which do we approach first?" She then drew out a coin. A common Atracan copper coin, one side with the head of an older Atracan king and the other with a engraving of the castle the king lived in. "A simple method of deciding. Heads, the sawmill. Tails, the ranch."

She moved it about in her hand, letting it rest on her thumb. And then, a moment later, she flipped it up into the air. It sailed upwards, flipping numerous times, before eventually falling right back into her open hand. "Heads." she said, glancing to the side facing upwards. "Sawmill it is."

--- --- ---
​

Endless rows and piles of logs lined the side of the road as they neared the sawmill about an hour later, having rode north of Tresomin in the indicated direction of the sawmill. They also found themselves moving along one of Grimtham Isle's many rivers, with this particular river being dotted with floating logs. Likely cut upriver and allowed to float down to the mill where they could be fished out and stacked. The river kept bugs and other nasty things at bay, so some were still floating in the river until ready to be pulled out.

At the mill itself, large water wheels were forcefully turned by the river water, powering the large saw blades inside and allowing them to cut the large logs into lumber. As they approached, they could see men and women moving about. Some were inspecting the stacked logs, while others were moving them to be cut at the mill. It seemed close to shutdown time, though, as there were a mere few out here instead of how many there would normally be at a mill like this. Getting those last few hours in before heading home. They'd need to find a supervisor before everyone left and went home.

Claire spoke up, glancing back to the others. "Let's head to the central mill. We can probably find a supervisor or someone else important there." she stated, pointing at the largest of the mill buildings ahead. Large, squarish, red, and several stories tall with a few windows on either side. A large metal ramp was fitted to one side, allowing cut logs to slide out to the next building.

 

[joshuadim]

The decision had been made on their next destination by cointoss, and although Azathor had his reservations about venturing to the sawmill rather than the ranch, he followed with the others with haste since time was likely not on their side. As the sawmill came into his view, Azathor observed in silence to see the mass amount of finished lumber and timber yet to be processed by the mill itself as well as the workers preparing for end of day operations. Claire said her piece on where they should go and Azathor shrugged in response: "After you, then." he stated, following in step behind her.

 

[Breadman]

Royland was annoyed that the decision would have to be decided by fate's hand and of course it would point them towards the sawmill. Whatever frustration he had, the knight would have to forget in order to hasten the inspection. They were soon at their location, but it would seem that the workers were on their way out.

"Perhaps one of our more, 'normal' members should ask questions first." Royland suggested as he looked towards the less odd looking members of the expedition.