In which there is a crowd

One of those awkward Spring days, where it's chilly in the shade, but in the sunshine, the Sun's warmth is quite nice. The Gardens, with divinity's influence, remain a vibrant green place, with splashes of colour in the form of blooming flowers. Adding a bit of a bummer feeling to the whole effect is the sound of slow, sad music coming from somewhere in the middle of the park. The Gobbo playing it, with her trusty Violin, is dressed in white, her uniform for volunteering at the Soldier's Defense. The fact that she looks very unhappy simply adds an authenticity to the sadness of the music.

From the Soldier's Defense comes a darkly robed sith-makar whom today due to the fine weather has pulled down the cowl of his cloak so that his blue scales can twinkle in the sunlight where it falls on them. For a moment he stands at the edge of the doorway into the hospital and then hearing the music walks toward it slowly. When he sees who is playing his steps slow even further until he's practically at a crawl. Eventually his steps lead him to Acedia, head tilted to listen to the lovely if melancholy music. "Ascedia?" His voice is soft and uncertain.

"...why the melancholy ssong, ser?" asks the sith-makar. Chay carries his hands in his pockets, the trench left open to the cooler air and breeze. His feet are wrapped for the weather, the toes and claws open, dug into the fresh earth.

Earth coats his claws, scales. Dust all the way up his ankles. He stands a peaceable, though companionable yard or so behind Zeke. He tilts his head at the gobber, as though interested in the answer. Flicks his look from the other sith-makar to the gobber.

A dapper cavalier of Sildanyari stature strolls gracefully yet casually northward into the District from the far filthier and smellier (in a bad way) Warehouse District to the south. The fluffy feather stuck in his broad-brimmed hat bounces with his stride, and he whistles merrily, his gloved hand resting lightly upon the hilt of his ornate rapier.

The melancholy music stops almost immediately when the two Sith approach the Gobbo. She stuffs her violin into its case, and then drags it and her backpack to where the two Sith stand. "A vampire took the witch lady.", Acedia says, with a snuffle. "I couldn't stop him and neither did anyone else. I don't where she is. But she was one of our chances to beat the plague and she's gone..." The tears start to flow.

Zeke startles a little at Chay's sudden voice, scuttling slightly to the side to get a better look at the other sith. Acedia moves closer to them and it's clear that he's resisting the temptation to move further away from her, his tail giving little flicks. She starts to talk and he notes the cavalier drawing closer to their conversation and the flicking quickens just a little. His shoulders hunching somewhat to make himself appear smaller and less noticeable. It's not something that works well for a nearly seven foot tall sith-makar.

Then Acedia begins to cry and he's utterly at a loss for what to do. He hovers some feet away from her with his claw clutching tight to his cloak to keep it closed about his body. "Ascedia... Ascedia." He murmurs her name gently. "Perhapsss if you tell usss more we can find her yesss?"

"...ser?" the hunter asks. Chay has gone still. Even his tail does not move, for the few heartbeats after the gobber drops this news.

The dapper sildanyari disrupts him, he jerks--staring at the man--and then jerks back to the gobber. "...the...Zeke is right, sser. One would appreciate anything--if you would sshare words, sser. This one is a hunter, sser. A new hunter, but...one tries, sser," he says, lowering his muzzle.

The tears come in fits and starts as she talks. "Well it was.. it was a tall man. Human. I think." A loud sniffle. "Kinda thin. Pale. But hard to tell as the evening was coming on. Had a nice suit on, all black." Wipes at her eyes a little. "The witch was floating up in the air yelling about how she'd peel his face off. An' he was all full of fake charm and wouldn't she like to go with him. Then she.. changed an' he grabbed her and they both disappeared. They were like.. up there. Maybe thirty feet." She points directly above the trio, and a fresh bout of tears start. "S.s.someone said he was a vampire. And.. and she wasn't at her farm. She's... gone." The Gobbo carries on with the waterworks, looking more miserable as the tears start to streak across the fresh white of her smock.

Ennis senses that the mood hereabouts is not as light as his own, and has the decency to silence his whistled melody. He approaches and bows respectfully, albeit he can't resist putting a touch of flair into the gesture. Rising he says, "Pardon, madam and sirs, but mine ears couldn't fail to hear some rather exciting tidings, and as I am here in Alexandria to try my hand at the vocation of an adventurer, I pray that you'll be so graceful as to forgive my sin of entering uninvited into your conversation. At any rate, I daresay that a tall, well-dressed gentleman has no business exuding fake charm. Whether one's business is honorable or despicable, charm is never effective when fake."

Zeke waffles from one foot to the other anxiously, his tail ridged. "Perhapsss..." He stops his sentence as her crying starts up even worse than ever. There's nothing that he can think of to do, he just hovers there uncomfortably. Mind racing in circles as he tries to come up with some solution that will get Acedia to calm down. He clearly doesn't know how to handle crying people. When no solution comes to mind he looks at Chay in pure exasperation for... something.

Which is when Zeke realizes that the stranger is approaching. Like a snake in the grass he freezes in place, grasping his cloak tightly enough that one can tell he's doing so by the strain of the cloth. He starts to talk but his mouth hangs open wordlessly. Green eyes flicker toward Acedia. Then back again. "Peassce on your nessst." His deep voice makes it audible but only just.

The hunter is having a difficult time. Chay's muzzle twitches and he looks up, up to where the gobber is pointing. "... ... ..." The faint shivers could be from the chill wind.

He looks to Zeke, the man having caught his eye. Then there's the sildanyari and... "Forgive this one, ssers. He is only thinking. One...one does not know about well-dressed gentlemen, one is afraid," he says.

Deeper breath. While he decides what to--do.

Ennis pulls a fine silk handkerchief out of... somewhere, and offers it to the sobbing gobber. He says, "To dry your tears, Madam." He then says to the sith'makars, "Peace on your nests, as well, comrades. I am Ennis, or at least that is enough of my name to suit the present purpose, at your service."

Speaking of well dressed gentleman... well, for certain levels of 'well dressed' and certain level of 'gentlemen'... Mikilos wanders into the Garden, wandering his way towards the Defense, enjoying the sunshine along the way. What little bit there is. Spying the growing gathering, the tall elf drifts that direction, frowning mildly as he picks up on the mood. "Good afternoon, peace unto you and yours. What has happened?"

The Gobbo seems very surprised when Ennis speaks, whirling on her heel to start at him, wide-eyed. Her sobbing quiets a little, but the tears still flow. Then she simply leans forward to wrap her arms around the Elf's waist, burying her face in his finery, bawling once more.

Now there's another person, and Zeke... is not saying anything anymore. He just stares at everyone. Well, he whispers /something/ but even his deep voice can't carry it now. He looks more like a statue of a blue-scaled sith-makar than an actual one. Is he breathing? It almost looks like he's stopped.

As another arrives into the Garden, Chay takes a step towards Zeke, but not towards Zeke. "...ssers," he says. He bows his head again, as small shivers threaten to overtake him.

"S-ssers..." he says, trying a second time. "I...are you Ser Mikilos, sser?" he asks as the other sildanyari arrives. In the midst of a storm...

The sith-makar wears clothing fit for the weather; a duster open for the warmer air, but at least present, for the partial chill. His legs are wrapped, just enough to leave the claws bare to the earth. Dirt dusts his scales along the feet.

Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Lord of Estranillia, sage of the Sixth Circle, Builder Arcane. But yes, 'Mikilos' is a great deal easier to remember and use in casual conversation."

Ennis looks at the fantastically tall wizard, and merely says, "Ennis at your service sir. This lady seems to have been distraught by a *tall* gentleman of deceptive intent."

Acedia looks rather embarrassed as she pulls her face away from Ennis, and quickly snatches the offered handkercheif from his hand. "S.s.sorry.", she stammers, wiping at her face as she moves to where Zeke and Chay stand, hiding behind the blue-scale Sith.

Zeke doesn't look terribly much like he's going to talk anytime soon, though he is breathing again. Breathing and moving his green eyes from face to face. He swallows once and then stills himself again as though the one motion that he made might draw attention to himself. Still, the fact that no one is focused on him seems to be doing him some good at least. Which is all well and fine until Acedia hides behind him. Now there's a little noise coming from him that sounds remotely like a tea kettle going off. Only quieter.

"Thiss one...thiss one heard about a tower, sser. A...it may be a lead, sser gobber, to--to recovering our friend," Chay says to Acedia as she nears, just--he seems somewhat flustered, like Zeke. However, his voice is a good deal smoother--

--like a Charneth servantry's. The almost-buried accent, the cant of the shoulders. The gesture of the hand.

"...They ssay a mage performed a ritual, sser. One heard the name Mikilos. Is that you, sser? The ssame Mikilos?" asks the sith-makar.

Ennis looks at Mikilos and says, "A ritual? Well, I'm glad someone had the sense to do so." Then to Acedia, he says, "No need to apologize, Madam. 'Tis the scoundrel of whom you spake that it sounds to me like ought to apologize, albeit I gather that he has more to regret than the insincerity of his charm. Did you not say that he had absconded with a witch of your acquaintance?"

Mikilos nods, glancing to Zeke, and makes a point not to look directly towards him again. Kneeling down, he nods to Ennis and Chay. "While tall, and perhaps a gentleman, I like to think I'm not deceptive. Too much pride. Any fool can lie to get what he wants, but it takes a clever mind to be perfectly honest and still successful. I like to think I'm that clever. And yes, I am the only Mikilos of which I am aware, and did perform the ritual of Faroth-fea. The images showed a White Tower surrounded by snow and ice. I believe it to be, if not the source of the plague, a key location to finding a cure. I was just on my way to speak with the Witch Alba..." he blinks, and falls quiet, looking to Ennis and Acedia. "...which i get the impression is going to be difficult?"

The Gobbo peeks out from behind Zeke, peering up at him as he does his tea kettle impression. "Can you do one of a crackling fire?", she wonders, a smile threatening to curl the corners of her lips. Acedia nods to Ennis. "Yes." And again at Mikilos. "The witch is named Alba? She was taken by someone, people named him a vampire. She was making headway towards beating the plague and he took her... Was floating above us here, and vanished. She changed. She did not want to go... and then she changed. He took her. Vanished." She gestures with her hands, and makes a popping noise with her mouth. "Will you help me find her?"

Zeke cracks. It was bound to happen. With a little skuttle he moves quickly to the side, and more fully behind Chay. He's wheezing heavily, his whole body hunched over. "Sssssorry." He mutters it again and again, bowing to Acedia with total fear in his eyes. He's an inch from bolting entirely. The sheer panic in him is so palpable that it seems to come from him in waves that other people should be able to feel.

"--Zeke--!" Chay stiffens, his heart racing. He moves then. Does what his other kin cursed at him for. Still curses at him for. He steps in front of Zeke, he himself shaking.

But he stands there.

"...give us a moment, ssers," he says. Still shaking. "Just--a moment, ssers. It will be fine."

Mikilos frowns thoughtfully, making a point not to look directly at Zeke or Chay. "I will find Alba. And once I reach her, pretty sure can turn her back to her regular self. The steps in between might take a little while, depending on where she's been taken. But with a material focus, I can do a magical scrying to view her current location."

Ennis wipes at his waistcoat and straightens his doublet.

Acedia peers at Zeke and Chay, "Is everything alright?" She rubs at her face and huffs, before looking to Mikilos. "So you're going to scry for her? I don't have much money, but I can pay a little for that service." She starts fussing a thin chain around her neck, pulling a small purse from under the white smock. "Uh. She probably has a few things down in the morgue room she took as her own room. There's probably something in there you can use." The Gobbo points at the Soldier's Defense.

"Sorry mother. This one is very sorry." Zeke is speaking low and mostly to himself... or perhaps Acedia? He's very carefully staying right where he is; unbelievably grateful for Chay's presence in that moment. The sith-makar manages to stay where he is; safely hidden. Slowly he stops speaking to himself. Slowly his breathing calms. But he's still huddled in on himself, still not meeting anyone's eyes. <draconic>

"...count, please, ser," to Zeke. Chay says that beneath his breath, and looks straight ahead at the earthen path. At the earth of it, the faint tendrils of leaves and roots. Anywhere but at the shaking bluescale behind him.

Now just--lessons, lessons. Remember when the owners would come? Remember when they'd raise their voices? Remember when--you had to recover, and fast? To distract them from the most injured party? The hunter shivers, and lifts his muzzle.

He looks to the other softskins, and takes a step, physically, away from Zeke. "This one...this one may have ssomething that may help with that ssearch. If--if the sshaman is amenable," he says. "It is beginning to rot though, ssers. If it is to be of use--we must be as quick as the Hunter's pack."

"One has a finger belonging to one of the--massked leaders, and a vial of his blood. And--one knowss how to navigate Alba'ss farm. Thiss one may hunt from there, as well."

He gives in, then. He glances back to Zeke.

Mikilos tsks, and makes a shushing motion to the gobber and her coin purse. "This is for me, don't worry about it." He glances to the sith, and continues softly. "I don't believe they're comfortable with crowds or strangers." He blinks, and looks to Chay. "A finger? As in, a severed body part?" He considers a moment. "Like to hear the story of how that happened, but yes, that would be a good focus. Though of which 'masked leader' are you speaking?"

Ennis absent-mindedly fidgets with the clasp of his cloak, as he watches these latest developments unfold. However, having nothing useful to contibute, he merely watches, except that he does say, in a calm tone as if soothing an upset child, "My friend. I am sure you need not fret so. None here have any but the most noble intentions." <draconic>

The Gobbo looks to Zeke, her ears perked up. "Is that dragon-speak?", she wonders, looking at Chay. Her coinpurse disappears much faster than it appeared, and Acedia nods to Mikilos. "Well, I can still offer it up if you need it later, yes?" She glance to Ennis then, looking at him curiously. "Is Zeke okay then, sir?", she asks of Ennis.

"One, two... one... two, three." Zeke utters the words slowly and carefully, glancing up to Chay, watching him... Being brave. It's enough to make Zeke's head bow in shame of his fear. The others are talking about him. He can hear them. He knows that they are watching him from the sides of their eyes. The draconic makes him take a little breath in, but it's not sith-makar. It's not...

Zeke forces his body to stop shuddering. Forces himself to move. To rise up, and it's the hardest thing he's had to do in a long while. "This one thanks you Chay." It's quiet words. Quiet and he doesn't meet anyone's gaze. Couldn't bear to see them looking back at him. 'Thisss one isss very ssorry.' It's all he can offer. <draconic>

As precious as diamonds. No, more--

--something, items near as precious as freedom. Chay pulls the items from his pocket with a jerking motion--two glass vials. He starts to hold these out--out for Mikilos to take. No, no--the sith-makar abruptly changes his mind, and puts them on the floor in front of the shaman, and backs away.

Breathe. "Sser," he says. He's standing near(ish) Zeke, again. He checks on his kin, scenting, scenting. ...then thumps his tail, and steps to the side again. Bring focus away, and... "...ssers," he tries a second time. "The man was of their leaders, sser, of the cult behind the murders. There is a cult known for its use of Obsidian Masks, through the temple of Vardama. This man--is part of an offshoot of that cult, sser. They have, one is given to undersstand, corrupted Vardama's message."

Shiver, but why? "They believe the murderss prevent the further spread of the plague, sser, and that it is Vardama's will, sser. Thiss man--was capable, and appeared highly ranked. He felled the warrior Ga'elian, and challenged a metal man of Alessandria. Ga'elian lost his companion in the fight, sser."

"...given his sstrength, thiss one was fortunate enough to gather thesse, sser. They are precious. If one had to guess, sser--more important than the man's life ser, was his identity, and the identity of those around him, sser. If we uncover these, they may be sstopped. More, sser--one does not believe the man fully believes that the murders are needed. Perhaps he has doubts, now, ssers."

A pause. Chay dares thump his tail, once. "...and, ssers. This hunter notes that Alba was looking into these men’s work, ssers. Sshe was making a lot of noise, ssers. That is why one believes these may be connected."

Mikilos frowns thoughtfully, peering at Acedia a few moments. "...would you be the violin player I've heard about?" He glances to the sith. "And yes, that's draconic. Not the local accent, but clear enough." He blinks, eyeing the offerings, and nods formally, accepting the vials with the reverence due, tucking them into an inside pouch of the Robe Made of Neutrality. "I will begin the scryings later tonight, and do my best to remain undetected. I will let you know the results as soon as I can."

Acedia shakes her head to Zeke, gesturing lightly with a hand. "It is okay, you do not need to apologize. Alexandria is a crowded place, and full of strangeness, and if you have difficulties, then Alexandria just complicates them." She looks to Chay then, her ears standing almost straight up as she listens intently. The pupil of her eye slowly expands until almost all of the red iris has vanished. "Then that is why she was taken. They must know she was doing research on the plague and they probably feared her discoveries. She needs to be found and these Black Masks stopped." The Gobbo looks to Mikilos then, and she blinks at his frown. "You dislike violin music?", she wonders. "Well anyway, you have work to do and I shouldn't prevent you from doing so. You can go into where the Witch... Alba... was staying, and see if there's something there you can use. I uh.. am done my volunteering so I am going to go crash." She hefts the backpack and vaguely violin-shaped case and begins to waddle off down the street.

Mikilos blinks. "No no, the opposite. Was about to ask if you'd please visit my Ballroom upon the mountain. I haven't been able to get a proper musician to test the acoustics."

"...just sso, sser gobber. It also occurs to this hunter-caste, because of your words, sser, that the cult may be a pawn. That a vampire is persuasive, sser--that a vampire, for the ssake of greater prey, may lie sser and corrupt ssuch a group as the Masks. Is is how /they/ operate, sser. With charm sser, and behind the sscenes with daggers veiled."

The hunter clears his throat, and lowers his muzzle. "...that might fit, ssers. If Alba was uncovering the TRUE cause, the work of the vampiress ssers, the true influensse of thiss branch-cult--then it would make sense ssers, why a vampire came after her, and not the Masks, ssers. Every other time, the Masks have worn their guises."

"One...one does not /know/ these things, ssers, but as we--as we hunt, as you sscry, sshaman. Perhaps. Perhaps it is a theory to keep in mind?"

To the gobber, "Pease to your nest, sser Acedia. I...I wish to find our friend. One wishes that very much," he says, voice quiet and somewhat broken, at the end. Chay exhales quietly. Probably, like Zeke earlier, counting to ten.

Zeke bows to the parting Acedia, his breathing has evened out slightly. He no longer is breathing heavily. He's regaining himself slowly. "Thisss one will do what can be done to offer aid." It sounds a hollow promise after his actions just a minute ago, but he says it firmly enough that it sounds true. "Thisss one thinks it all might be too much of a coinscidence... but also thiss one wondersss... Who could come up with ssuch a plan? Who could do all of thessse thingss?"

Ennis raises his eyebrow at Chay's description of the vampire's methods. Then just shakes his head back and forth muttering, "Despicable... despicable..."

Mikilos nods. "Layers upon layers. When deception become a way of life, it's not too hard to conceive of double, triple, and ever more complex lies. Though I tend to find such tangled webs trap their maker often as not."

"...that is a question to discuss among the hunter-caste," Chay says, meaning he does not know. He lowers his muzzle in apology, in consideration. "One doess not know--but one will endeavor to research, ssers, with your help ssers. Together, will fight thiss."

Zeke hovers a bit - not literally but figuratively. "Thiss one sshould return to work. Thisss one tendss the plague-sssick." He offers a low nod to everyone. "Thisss one appologizesss again."

-End