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The huntress did not take any issue with the soldier's presence as they had this discussion, as she knew full well that Sebastian did not take very kindly to the pureblood either. As Claire expressed her sentiment toward Cassandra's continued existence, Camille pulled the corners of her lips inward.

"The words you speak are true, there is no arguing that. She has been given another chance where far more virtuous sinners got nothing," she replied, allowing Claire to continue her thought. Seeing the vampire reach for something in her coat put the marquess on edge, almost stepping back in reflex even though she didn't necessarily have anything to fear at this moment. Fortunately she managed to quell that reaction, extending her hand out to receive the stake.

Even as a seasoned vampire hunter that was now endorsed by the queen, a white oak stake was exceedingly rare to obtain. This had been the first time she had ever held one in her hands, and for a moment Camille looked on the killing implement with a sort of quiet reverence. Slowly she curled her fingers tightly around the stake, looking back to Claire to give her a stern nod before she put it on her belt. Hidden by her feathery cape, it was mostly out of sight unless someone was specifically looking for it.

"I appreciate the confidence you have in me," the huntress stated before returning to a more casual stance. "I will be keeping a very close eye on her. As far as I am aware she wishes to return to the Abyss. Should she snap before our mission is done, I will be more than happy to expedite that return."
 
"I will be keeping a very close eye on her. As far as I am aware she wishes to return to the Abyss. Should she snap before our mission is done, I will be more than happy to expedite that return."

"Good. Consider that tool her express ticket." said Claire, with a nod. "...And if you should have no need to use it on her, then I'm sure you'll find a situation where its far more suitable."

She then glanced towards Sebastian as she continued speaking. "Though I do hope that situation doesn't involve upsetting any delicate balances between any vampire houses. Then, I'll be paying you a visit to correct things." After the statement, she looked back to Camille and simply gave her a smile.
 
A hand moves to her own hip as Claire decides to get coy with her, the huntress smirking slightly before she mustered a reply. "It is to my understanding that if a vampire makes a big enough fuss to be in my sights, they're of no use to your houses anyway," she wagers. "It has me wonder just how many of my kills had their blessing behind them, though perhaps it's better that I don't concern myself with that."
 
"It is to my understanding that if a vampire makes a big enough fuss to be in my sights, they're of no use to your houses anyway," she wagers. "It has me wonder just how many of my kills had their blessing behind them, though perhaps it's better that I don't concern myself with that."

"Several, honestly. The last major one being Ashwood." replied Claire, "His vision for the world would have likely brought about a new war among the great houses. Which is what I prevent with my work."

"The great houses want to stay out of the public eye. Who can blame them, after what all has happened these past few years? This war, Nocturne's activities, the purges, Ashwood's insanity... its been a mess." She then looked out at the ships in the bay, as she continued. "Those you slay are often malcontents, and also are often from upstart bloodlines or from a lesser house being a bit louder than they should be. Some are even rogue vampires, who don't care about the way of things and just want blood and chaos."

She then glanced to Camille. "Like Cassandra."
 
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Camille sucks her teeth at the explanation, her opinions on the matter as a whole worn very clearly on her sleeve. "I would like to believe that Ashwood would be the last vampire with such grand ambition, but I know that such thinking is deluded and childish."

"The matters with Nocturne have been even more regrettable, and I regret that recent events have left the matter unresolved." Partially, the huntress felt that she had part of the blame for what transpired with the island nation's terrorist attacks. Had she a way to properly confront their leader, she would have made sure such an outcome would have never happened. Just another regret among many.

"Oui. Like Cassandra," she repeated. "I struggle with just how different things may be if she hadn't ruined everything at Grimtham. Not just with what happened with Valeria but..." The huntress goes silent for a few moments. "Never mind. I'll do what is necessary. Whenever I make a misstep, I make it my mission to correct it."
 
"I didn't want to speak up, before," Sebastian said, "because I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know anything about these vampiric 'houses' you keep talking about. Seems a bit strange, talking about it like some kind of elite club when, if I'm assuming correctly, it's just a bunch of people all bitten by the same group of vampires," he mused, cocking an eyebrow at Claire.

He glanced at Camille, next. "Does it make any sense to you? Getting your blood sucked out by a vampire shouldn't make you loyal to them, nein? That's like getting stabbed by King Newmont and then calling yourself a member of his royal family because your blood stained the carpet."
 
Xiaòzhou did maintain an ear towards the others as he aided a few of the sailors with minor things in the background. Knowing they make come to face with the undead at their destination too, and possibly demons as well, was important to note. Soon enough, the Black Swan was departing and with that, he slowly returned to rejoin the group in time to hear Claire speak about when they would arrive, and her feelings on the Church. He simply nodded at what she had to say, as someone who also worked with the church through the divine themselves, and having heard other complaints before. Given how much time had passed in the Abyss for Cassandra, he hoped her time had changed her for the better, though these quarrels suggest some things never do. At the very least, everyone affirmed a willingness to cooperate.

Soon enough, Rebecca motioned the group to head below deck. Xiaòzhou gave Claire a 'see you later' nod, as he considered what may be going on down below. With Claire, Camille and Sebastian staying up top, he made sure to monitor their qi, just in case they needed to somehow find them in case of a ship attack. The inside of the vessel wasn't too spacious, but it wouldn't be a problem for him. If there weren't enough beds for all, he could simply request a wooden chair to mediate on.

He looked over at the sailor, and asked: "If I may ask, is there anything we can help with onboard, major or minor? It wouldn't be prudent for us to just wander about aimlessly."
 
"Does it make any sense to you? Getting your blood sucked out by a vampire shouldn't make you loyal to them, nein? That's like getting stabbed by King Newmont and then calling yourself a member of his royal family because your blood stained the carpet."

Despite the humorous comparison Camille did not even have it in her to smirk at the moment, her mind clearly on other matters. "Tradition can be a very strange thing," the huntress answers, turning to properly address the soldier. "The vampire houses have existed for many, many years. Coupled with the fact that there are a great number of vampires that see their affliction as a blessing, it's very easy for them to form bonds of loyalty to such houses."

"Frankly it's not my job to understand them beyond what I need to track a target's movements. It does not matter what house they come from or what rank they hold in it, if they threaten innocent lives I will take action."
 
Rajko agreeably nodded to Rebecca's suggestion. He was most eager to rid himself of the luggage on his back, he followed daintily with the rest of the troupe. But before he disappeared from earshot, he overheard the immaculately brief exchange between Claire and the Saint. A look of bewilderment etched itself on Sottaks' sharp contours. Trusting someone on the basis of WHAT they are, rather than WHO they are is... questionable in his eyes. Sure, a Saint is not a title that can be easily achieved nor one that is given freely as he is led to believe, but his point still stands. "An odd thing." He commented aloud whilst lugging his possessions. The interior of the vessel was not spacious and many would find the economical structuring unappealing. But Rajko found it exceptionally comforting, then again his tastes in décor are not as refined as the other inquisitors.

His first instinct is to acquire a bed then decompile his belongings. Which he took to it surprisingly fast. His inquisitorial coat draped on the side of the bed, he stretched himself over the bed and crossed his right leg over his left. He overheard what Takato said to the sailor and raised his hand. "If you require an extra appendage, I'll be there as well."
 
"...Ja," Sebastian replied after a moment. "I forget sometimes that there are some deeply twisted people out there who would actually want to spend the rest of forever creeping around in the dark, drinking blood. ...No offense intended, Frau Claire, but I assume you have a similar perspective if the only reason you're standing here in the sunshine is because a god gave you a magic trinket to keep you from going up like a bonfire," he commented, grimly.

Then, a thought seemed to cross his mind. "How does a well-organized mind pass that much time, anyway? It can't all just be stalking people and killing baddies," he insisted. "Me? I read books."
 
"Does it make any sense to you? Getting your blood sucked out by a vampire shouldn't make you loyal to them, nein? That's like getting stabbed by King Newmont and then calling yourself a member of his royal family because your blood stained the carpet."
"The vampire houses have existed for many, many years. Coupled with the fact that there are a great number of vampires that see their affliction as a blessing, it's very easy for them to form bonds of loyalty to such houses."

Claire listened quietly as the two spoke, before responding. "From my work and travels over the years, it's more of a case of either found family or general necessity." she stated, folding her arms again. "You often have nowhere else to turn, because who would help a vampire? Only those with open minds, supportive of the supernatural community. Otherwise, you're sort of bound to return to those that turned you, or to seek out those with the same bloodline as yourself. Though there's plenty of cases of a member of one bloodline joining another vampire house."

"I forget sometimes that there are some deeply twisted people out there who would actually want to spend the rest of forever creeping around in the dark, drinking blood. ...No offense intended, Frau Claire, but I assume you have a similar perspective if the only reason you're standing here in the sunshine is because a god gave you a magic trinket to keep you from going up like a bonfire,"

Claire shook her head. "No offense taken, though I wouldn't call people that choose this sort of life twisted, really. More misguided than anything, though there are those that choose to become vampires out of lust for power. As for many others, they are simply stuck with what they have, unwilling to throw their lives away. So, they do the best with what they have."

Claire shrugged. "...I was turned into a vampire by a member of the Ossenfelder bloodline by the name of Simon Krantz. Supposedly of the same Krantz family that owns all of those coal mines in northwestern Daristein, but he's no longer among the living so I can't really ask him about that particular bit of trivia."

"He saved me from dying that night, after Cassandra stabbed me with the lance. The wisest and kindest man I have ever known. Taught me how to adjust to living as a vampire, and introduced me to other members of the great houses who eventually became good friends as well. And then Cassandra beheaded him later when he tried to defend me from her."

She sighed softly, before changing the subject as she looked back towards Sebastian. "How does one pass the time? Hobbies. Business. Anything. I read often, too. A particular favorite is Gabriel Verne." she replied, "The other houses either have links to businesses or industry. House Polidori finds themselves immersed in art and fashion. House Visconti are winemakers, and own vineyards across Adonia which produce wines for human consumption as well as supernatural."

She then chuckled. "Oh, and I play pool often as well. Love the game."
 
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Claire could deny that it was twisted to seek out a vampire's life all she wanted, but Sebastian was still convinced that one would have to be particularly sick in the head to want that for one's self, even with the promise of eternal life attached. Still, as she revealed the story of her own turning, he recognized her lingering humanity and pitied what had happened to her and her mentor. Then, she divulged her hobbies.

"I've never read anything by Verne, and I don't know how to play pool," he said with a relieved chuckle once the conversation had drifted toward lighter matters again. "I suppose I'll have some new things to try if I survive all this. That being said, if I do take a mortal wound, nobody better put their fangs into me trying to save me. I'm sure they've got books and pool in paradise, and I won't have spend any more time with Cassandra," he joked.

Underneath his humor, however, a part of him was growing anxious. He knew that none of his strange traveling companions were likely to curse him with any affliction- except possibly Cassandra, especially since Claire seemed certain that the woman would slip back into her old ways at any moment.
 
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Azathor followed the others down below deck to where they would be staying on their hopefully short and uneventful trip towards Grimtham Isle, and found it surprisingly cramped given the size of the vessel itself as a warship. He found himself squeezing and ducking to avoid hitting his head or bumping into the walls on accident, tough he did accidentally bump his head into a corner as he turned his head to look at his surroundings on the inside of the ship. A small wave of pain radiated from his head for a few moments before it subsided as he rubbed the point of impact with a look of annoyance on his face. This certainly wasn't something that put him in good mood.

Once arriving at the bunks, Azathor quickly took one of the unoccupied ones and removed his equipment so that he could lie down to relax. He was content with getting some alone time while the others went about their business on the ship as he closed his eyes. A rested mind is a ready mind, after all. And who knows? Maybe they will need to be ready at any moment.
 
"If I may ask, is there anything we can help with onboard, major or minor? It wouldn't be prudent for us to just wander about aimlessly."

The response to Takato's question came after a moment of thought, the sailor scratching his chin and looking to the floor. "...Nothing that I'm aware of, sir. We have everything in order for the moment. Unless you feel like peeling potatoes down in the kitchen."

Afterwards, he looked to the rest of the group gathered around. "If you need anything, just flag one of the sailors down. I'm sure they'll be happy to help. Anything to get their minds of the potential of fighting the Tsavanian navy." he stated, before giving them a brief salute. And a moment later, the sailor strolled away. Likely returning to his previously assigned duties aboard the vessel.

Time passed, hours flying by as the cruiser made its way across the channel between the mainland and Grimtham Isle. Day shifted to evening, then the early portion of night was soon upon the land. Not long after the moon had risen overhead, the opening of Porthcrawl Bay came into view. The Black Swan passed by two other warships sailing along the opening of the port. A pair of well-armed Atracan destroyers, maintaining an alert status. Actively searching for any sign of a Tsavanian presence nearby.

The Black Swan continued into the bay, eventually sailing by the solitary lighthouse sitting on a small island further into the bay. Beyond that, the lit port and island-city of Porthcrawl itself. The years had been kind to Porthcrawl following the incident years prior, which had left the city burning and infested with zombies and skeletons. After Velin's return, she tasked the Vigilant Order and members of the Church's clergy to cleanse the city of its undead inhabitants. Afterwards, Atraca's engineers and members of its citizenry set out to rebuild. The buildings and massive surrounding walls of the city were rebuilt, and Porthcrawl soon regained much of its former glory. A memorial now stood in the city's park, dedicated to all those that perished within its walls during that particular time of darkness.

As the cruiser pulled into port, it was flanked by other warships and more civilian vessels that had taken up refuge. Their captains afraid to brave the waters in fear of being boarded or sunk by Tsavanian cruisers. Rebecca's group, whom had assembled up on the main deck alongside Claire, watched from the railings as the Black Swan eventually came to a stop. The ramp leading down onto the dock was soon extended, as was one for the ship's cargo hold. As the group noticed this, Claire spoke up. "I brought my horse, if that's alright. I'd rather use one I'm accustomed to, rather than deal with someone else's." she stated, as she moved for the ramp. "Let's get going, shall we?"
 
"The men who betrayed you are long dead and their ilk are purged from the Church, my lady." Royland replied to Claire while crossing his arms. "My colleagues have made sure of that. I would also urge you to report any members that show the same inclinations to us. The Lady has made it clear that she doesn't want the order to descend into a corrupt pit of mindless violence." The wraith added before he departed in search of somewhere he could meditate.

The day moved along, but he could feel that his move was still being watched. Like before the presence was that of a foreign entity, but it kept its distance. Not as strong as Lozon, but still enough to leave a lingering feel of anger in the air. That and anxiety. Royland broke his meditation as the call came to assemble. The sight of the warships was impressive to him. He only knew of combat on land, so these ships never failed to capture his attention.
I brought my horse, if that's alright. I'd rather use one I'm accustomed to, rather than deal with someone else's.
"I brought my own." Royland told the accompanying soldiers as he walked down the ramp. The wraith's fingers were ablaze for a few moments before they snapped. A patch of grass seemingly caught on fire while a horse ascended from the ground. The animal was like any normal horse at a glance, but something was...off. The mane, hoofs and even the saddle looked sickly and foul. Its eyes were...angry. "Pay him no mind, he's like any horse" The knight reassured those around him and climbed on it after gently petting his steed and giving it a few scratches behind the ear. The stallion's response was an incredibly healthy neighing. Something that would be a surprise to anyone looking at the beast. "Come along now." He led his horse next to Rebecca's.
 
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Upon arrival to Porthcrawl, Azathor awake and collected his things having now found himself to be properly well rested for the most part. Although the bunks were somewhat cramped, it was still a much needed rest as he stepped out to observe the revived city. He had heard in hearesay and distant whispers about the events that had unfolded here prior, and how it also involved the Witlock Inquiry, and to see it be returned to its former status in such a short period was impressive as well as admirable to Azathor. It was a glimmer of hope in the world, a testament to the ability of those here to pick up the pieces and make something better again.

And since things were likely to get worse before they were going to get better, they would likely need such spirit in the face of what was likely to come. He descended down the ramp, following the others and shrugged. "I'll need a horse for myself I suppose." he commented, "Though if one is not available I can always keep up on foot."
 
As the others prepared to disembark, Sebastian appeared from below deck. During the short voyage, he eventually became bored of the empty ocean around him and decided to seek out something to fill his gut with. Although he had feared animosity from the Atracan sailors, the few he endeavored to speak with seemed tolerant and even a bit curious. They prodded him with questions about the mission and provided him a ration and some tea in exchange for a closer look at his pistol.

"...Atraca is making their own, now, but it looks ugly and crude," he explained to the sailors flanking him as they walked out onto the deck. "That demon over there, Azathor, has a pair of them, but I don't think we have time for a demonstration," he said. "In fact, I think we're disembarking right now."

"Aye, yeah, get a move on then," one of the sailors said.

Sebastian nodded respectfully. "Auf Wiedersehen," he said before jogging off to rejoin the group. As he reached the ramp, he overheard Azathor mention his ability to keep up on foot and rolled his eyes. Having taken a train and then a steamship to this point, Sebastian wondered how long it would be before humans would mechanize personal transportation as well. Knowing the skill of his country's craftsmen, he was sure it would be a Daristeinian who would debut such a vehicle.

He then caught sight of Ser Royland and his horse, and did a bit of a double take. He wasn't aware that such an ugly breed existed.
 
The day stretched on as Rajko waited with a saint's patience. Though he did not sit on his hands. He aided the sailors where he could, by in large part just carrying things or being an extra hand was enough for them. He observed the others from time to time as he made his way about the vessel not with any malicious intent, mind you. Just simple curiosity about all this. Except for Claire, he respected her request and sought to limit his interaction with her to only things of crucial importance. Soon enough, the Black Swan had reached its' destination. Porthcrawl. A sigh escaped from the inquisitor, if they burnt a town deep into their enemy's territory to stop them then imagine what horrors they would unleash once they set foot on an imbalanced battlefield. The others of his cadre already experienced the burning animosity of their opponent, but Rajko has not. He anticipates that he may be weakest point. How did that saying go? "a chain is no stronger than its weakest link.”

Discarding his thoughts, Rajko gathered his instruments and vestments. The overcrowded Porthcrawl stupefied Rajko, he had heard reports about this sort of thing. Even hours ago, before Blackburn held a similar view... But all these ships? It truly leaves man breathless at the disparity of it all. His eyes and mind snapped away from the site's hollowing grip by Claire's speaking. Then Ser Royland's choice had been next. Rajko recoiled at its presence, what a sickly looking thing. "I did not bring my own steed, but if the situation calls for it then I would borrow one. And it's not like I can't fly." He commented.
 
The only time Camille came below decks was to have a bit of a meal at the mess hall, of which she consumed out of necessity rather than enjoyment. She had to imagine that whatever the Escarian soldiery had to eat was far more passable than what was on the tin plate before her. Though she knew better now than to openly disparage a meal within earshot of others, there was a slight grimace on her face. After that, she returned topside to stand atop the deck and observe the open sea around her. Despite it technically being a warzone as well, it was far less felt out on the waters. The seemingly endless expanse always had her mind race with possibilities.

In time it was broken up by their destination, the group having made landfall at Porthcrawl and the huntress soon disembarking from the ramp with them. There was a slight nostalgia that washed over her as she looked at the reconstruction efforts, glad that this place would not remain a horrible ruin like it was before. And yet she could not help but fear that armies both demonic and human might see to its destruction once again.

"... It sure does not seem like any horse," Camille commented at Royland's steed, soon nodding at the others. "Oui, not sure if my riding horse ended up getting shelled with the rest of my estate, to be frank. I also lack the luxury of sprinting as fast as them, like certain company that is with us."
 
The group made their way down onto the dock, past various sailors and soldiers whom were assisting with getting the cruiser squared away for the time being. Civilians were scattered about as well, moving too and from the various civilian boats that were currently docked as well. Several looked older, likely fishermen. With the war so close, you couldn't really get as much work in out on the open sea as you could in peacetime.

From out of the cargo hold of the Black Swan was lead a snow white horse, mane and tail braided and accented with strips of red string. The saddle was made of blackened leather, with the horn made of what appeared to be solid steel capped with brass. The horse looked well taken care of, showing that Claire was a superb owner. As they moved down the ramp, Claire glanced up and waved the sailors away. Then, she made a clicking noise with her mouth. The horse responded near instantly, moving straight down the ramp towards her at a brisk pace. And soon, it stopped next to her.

"This is Claude." she said, actually smiling as she brushed her hand across the horse's neck and gave him a pat. "I've had him for a few years now. Named him after an old friend of mine."

Cassandra glanced between the horse and Claire. "Claude Guilloux, I presume?" she said, before a smile started to creep across her face.

Claire's head shifted a bit, turning to look dead at Cassandra with a hateful expression. "Yes." she said simply, her tone rather blunt.

Cassandra's smile remained for a few moments, as the tension between the pair grew, but the smile soon faded. "...A handsome creature, named after a handsome man." she said simply, before walking past Claire and the horse towards the end of the dock. Claire watched her for a few moments, eyes locked onto the back of the pureblood's head, but soon shifted her attention back to the horse. Another pat followed, before Claire took the horse by its reins and lead it down the pier.

The rest of the group followed, before meeting up with a rather short and stout constable standing at the end of the pier. "Ah! You must be the group the Church was sending this way. We were informed beforehand of your intent." he said, before looking to Camille. "A pleasure to see you again, Lady Giguere! Its been years!"

If Camille recalled, this was the constable that was helping Valeria in Airedale years ago, at the start of the inquiry into Grimtham. "Archie Holland, at your service. Come, let's get you all saddled up and ready for your journey." he added, before motioning for the group to follow. Down at the end of the dock was another constable, keeping an eye on a horse next to him. It looked decent enough, likely a horse from the Atracan cavalry reserves on the island that was issued to them for their work.

As they arrived, Rebecca moved to the black horse that stood next to the constable that had been overseeing them. "Thank you." she said briefly, before quickly mounting the beast and getting used to the saddle. By this point, Claire had already mounted hers. Royland as well, moving his odd looking horse over next to Rebecca's.

"I'll need a horse for myself I suppose." he commented, "Though if one is not available I can always keep up on foot."
"I did not bring my own steed, but if the situation calls for it then I would borrow one. And it's not like I can't fly." He commented.
"Oui, not sure if my riding horse ended up getting shelled with the rest of my estate, to be frank. I also lack the luxury of sprinting as fast as them, like certain company that is with us."

Holland spoke up again. "We brought several. Here comes another constable with them now." he said, pointing nearby. As the group looked, they saw several other horses being lead along by a tall, thin constable. All matched the horse Rebecca was on in size, but varied widely in colors and looks. "The Atracan 5th Cavalry sends its regards, by the way." said Holland afterwards, with a chuckle.

Cassandra didn't hesitate as the constable arrived, selecting a chestnut brown horse and slipping into the saddle quite quickly. Perfect fit. "I'm likely faster than everyone here, but I'll not turn down a proper horse for transportation. Better to save my abilities for something far more useful, like slaying Icons." she stated, almost boastfully, before moving over next to Claire.
 
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As they waited for the horses to be provided, Sebastian listened uncomfortably to Cassandra's distasteful remarks, and half expected Claire to lose her temper. It wasn't hard to figure out what was going on between the two of them, and he suspected that it would end poorly long before the mission could be carried out to completion. A chill ran down his spine as he considered how the earlier mission to Grimtham had been thwarted in part due to Cassandra's involvement, and wondered if she would change sides again. He glanced back at the ship and considered how very far away from home he had come, and dearly hoped he wouldn't die on this island.

The constables came along a moment later with a horse he could use, a grey Appaloosa horse with a roan pattern. To Sebastian's untrained eye, the horse appeared strong and fast, and was well mannered when he approached it. Inside, he was thankful that he wouldn't have to carry everything on his back anymore, and he set about strapping some of his equipment to the horse instead. Once he was ready, he mounted the saddle and was glad for the experience he gained en route from Escaria before the mission began.
 
The urge to shoot Cassandra and Claire grew higher and higher. He is called back to the moment on the train where Camille and... Azathor? Or was it someone else had been bickering not too dissimilar to children on the streets. Only this time, it involved beings that are quite powerful (and in Cassandra's case, bloodseeking). A part of him wondered whether he should have declined the opportunity to join this group of riffraff, still picturing his senior who delivered the message. Hands on hips, he shook his head. It cannot be helped, this decision will be like an incision into Rajko, an incision that could prove to be his extinction. If it does prove fatal then he hopes it would be a good death.

The constabulary of this fair isle soon arrived, bringing equine equipment for them. Cassandra and Sebastian had immediately gone to work in selecting their traveling companion, but Rajko hesitated. He has ridden on horses before, that is true... Though those times, he had the luxury of ken with the animal. He sighed, it would seem this to be a new opportunity to construct another bond. His eyes spotted a horse that appealed to him. A striking grey-coated horse of hefty size, its feet were blacker than the jackets they wore. Rajko approached from the side, gently caressing its mane. "Very affectional, aren't you?" He said with a hushed tone. Its head met the inquisitor, familiarising itself with the scent. "I'll be taking this one."

On first mount, there had been some unsureness in the horse, as if it detected Rajko's supernatural disposition, but soon accepted him fully. He'll decide on a name later.
 
The huntress did not need her detective skills to tell that the small exchange between Cassandra and Claire had some smug malice in it, her fist clenching slightly at the realization. That vampire was insufferable, and at this point she was waiting for an opportunity to put an end to her horrible ways. Were it not for her assistance being a necessity, she would be much less lenient with Cassandra in general.

Walking along the pier, she sighed and shut her eyes for the moment, taking in the sounds of the sea and the breeze one last moment before they traveled inland. It was getting more and more difficult to keep her focus, and though this was her first life-threatening soiree in quite some time Camille saw that as no excuse. With a somewhat familiar voice addressing her by name, she blinked her eyes and stared at the jovial man before offering a warm smirk.

It was fortunate he stated his name, as she had forgotten his and was feeling quite guilty for it. "Monsieur Holland..! It is refreshing to see someone in such pleasant spirits. And well, happy to see me of all people. That also doesn't happen often," she joked at her own expense.

Soon enough they had a whole selection of horses to choose from, and while the noblewoman had plenty of experience with riding she was rather halfhearted with her selection of a steed. Camille approached a stallion with a deep black coat, only a few spots of white along its face and by its hooves. It seemed docile enough, and she placed herself on its saddle with a quick and confident ascent.
 
Once everyone had selected a horse, mounting up and preparing themselves to ride, Holland gave them a 'okay' gesture with his hand. "If you head to the west end of Porthcrawl, you'll come to a newly constructed ferry dock. The ferry will take you to the coast to the west." he stated, pointing towards the end of the docks where it began to shift towards businesses and residences instead of warehouses and ships.

Claire added onto his statement. "From the coast, we should head north to Tresomin. I know an individual there that might have an idea of which particular cove we're looking for. There's three pirate coves scattered about the island's coast. Black Sand Cove, Caleling Reef, and Storm's Atoll. We need to be sure of which one we're supposed to be venturing to." she stated, looking to Rebecca and the others. "Black Sand Cove was the one I frequented, but I've been to the other two as well. So getting to them should be easy enough, if things haven't changed much in the past hundred and sixty or so years."

Cassandra rolled her eyes, but Rebecca nodded. "Let us press on, then. We don't have time to waste, if we intend to find the artifact before Taranoch's forces do." stated the Saint. Claire gave her a nod, before flicking the reins. Her Mustang started moving, trotting down the dock ahead of the group. The group followed, moving along in nearly a straight line as they passed through masses of sailors and civilians alike. And as they journeyed into the streets of Porthcrawl, they began to take in the full extent of the restoration effort for Porthcrawl.

The burned out buildings that Camille and the rest of the Witlock group had witnessed when they first ventured into Porthcrawl in 1877 had been replaced with newer ones, which were now businesses of various types or had people using them as permanent residences. The streets, which had been formerly filled with blood and decaying bodies, were now cleaned and well maintained. Constables strolled the streets, helping to maintain the order of the city as best they could with a war going on miles away to the east. Soldiers patrolled the streets as well, boots clacking against the cobblestone as they marched. A similar sound to what they heard in Eternis, though not as loud as there were less troops here.

They passed down several streets, moving along and pasting by shops and civilians. A few greetings were exchanged (and some odd looks given to those who stood out amongst the group). Cassandra looked about. Her last visit here had been with the Devonshire Twins, Tarja and Rayne, as well as Gabriel Wallace. The intent was to create a reason to keep anyone from venturing into the city while they attempted to find Velin's Executioner Sword. The twins, being necromancers, were responsible for the zombies and skeletons that plagued the city, while Wallace had been tasked with making sure soldiers occupied the walls and the singular bridge leading into the city. To prevent anyone from getting in.

Porthcrawl would prove to be Wallace's grave, thanks to the Inquiry, and the Devonshire twins were both killed as well later on by Valeria Witlock's group.

Eventually, Cassandra simply looked ahead. Following after those before her. A stinging pain was plaguing her heart, regrets pouring into her mind. She couldn't bear to look at her surroundings anymore, and dared not look any of these people around them in the face.
 
Azathor listened without much emotion as a tense exchange was held between Claire and Cassandra, as he had no particular horse in this race. Though he could not help but wonder, would this feud between the two get in the way of their mission? Only time would tell as he turned his attention towards choosing a horse to use in travels. He didn't particularly care about looks or appearances of whatever steed he got, only that it served him well in helping him travel, so after the others had their picks he looked at the ones that remained and pointed to a chestnut coated horse that was all one singular color save for a small streak of white upon its head.

He was quickly given the reins and a saddle to put atop the horse's back, before he mounted it and got himself ready. Venturing into the city before they could depart, Azathor was able to take in the sights to what extent this place was being rebuilt and he could admire the work and craftsmanship being put into restoring the lost glory this city once held. "Must be quite important if people are still working hard to get this place back in order." Azathor commented while riding, turning his gaze here and there as his horse followed the others, "Even as war rages... impressive, really."
 

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