[i]The ASSASSINS GUILD?[/i] Jeanne felt a chill run down her spine, suddenly the world felt [i]much[/i] smaller; she felt [i]much[/i] more alone-- fatally so. The rising stone towers that seemed to engulf the two as they made their way into the heart of the city took on a new sense of dread for Jeanne. She felt as though she were being consumed by some sinister entity that she couldn't comprehend; red and grey brick stone towers and spires were like jagged teeth for this thing of enclosing, crushing darkness. The [i]darkness[/i] that surrounded her was a horrid, putrid throat-- slimy, wet, slowly sucking her in closer. What was the beautiful-- yet distant, as she walked several paces faster than Jeanne-- woman? An enchantress for her guild? For the king? A servant to a dark monster. Maybe she was just killing anyone with some connection to the kidnappings? [i]Why was Jeanne feeling such fear? Her surroundings? She admired the Assassins Guild, in truth! She shouldn't be feeling this uneasy... and if she was feeling this uneasy, she should have been able to turn and walk away... and yet...[/i] She wondered; Had she been charmed...? No. No, she wasn't. Jeanne was well enough versed in the alteration of the mind to know when her own psyche was being toyed with. So then what was it? As she followed behind the tall shadow that was Isabella, Jeanne admitted to herself why she hadn't turned and run away. There was only reason, in fact, as to why she hadn't turned and run farther away from the monster of darkness; run from slipping further into it's wet alley-way throat, run away from it's smokey servant-- her own curiosity. Yes-- Jeanne was a curious girl in her youth, and had grown into an even curiouser woman. This didn't mean she wasn't scared. Of course she was scared! She completely acknowledge she could be walking to her death. To any half-sane man, this whole scenario practically dripped with a palpable fear, etched into it from various angles. [i]I'm walking into the unknown on a dark night with an assassin.[/i] She acknowledged the fear, and while she certainly didn't have the mental fortitude to overcome it, she was in possession of an abundance of curiosity. She could distract her fear with that curious interest, a stupid desire for adventure, at a base level; that basic longing for novel stimuli overpowered her survival instincts. Following illogical steps was simply more interesting than the logical ones; spending one's time holed up in a funeral home tended to instill in one a desire for a the unusual and a numbed fear of death. Curiosity, her show-woman's bravado, and an already developing draw to be near the very cold, white-haired woman concocted a very deadly potion in the heart and mind of Jeanne. Jeanne's eyes adjusted to moonless darkness as the fail light occasional flickered out of view, due to high stone bridges blotting out light between the buildings in the already dark alleyways. She could see naturally in this shade, and took note of Isabella ahead of her, intent to to lose her in the darkness... Jeanne's eye's-- perhaps, perhaps not-- due to her height, were naturally draw to Isabella's legs, which were outlined as so slender in her leather armor... Her curiosity was a big reason she was still trotting along, but Isabella's... [i]assets[/i]... certainly didn't hurt her case. She was a simple, curious woman, with needs! She couldn't help it! She was following an interesting spectre into the heart of darkness, and that was exciting! [i]Back to the task at hand.[/i] She thought. [i]Right! Assassins Guild...[/i] This could become something wonderful for Jeanne if she played her hand correctly. A fire welled in her chest, engulfing the misgivings she had initially felt upon hearing those two words. [i]Assassins Guild.[/i] Why had this drawn their attention? Were the kidnappings really this high profile? As Jeanne knew it, the Assassins Guild was allowed to operate as it did by a royal decree from King himself, with direct ties to the authority of the crown they could operate with impunity; on the condition that they carried out all royal assassinations, as well as summoning as special members to direct service, should the castle need them. Isabella certainly fit that bill of 'special member.' Her high position in the Guild, and her ties to royalty did explain why she seemed to regal-- she was! She was simply cut from an entirely different cloth! From a different type of expensive, poisoned, white-silver fabric! By a more honed, and trained seamstress! In a castle! Jeanne couldn't help but feel a small smile creep onto her face as she began to fit pieces of this together. It had to have been someone Isabella not only knew, but was also high enough in rank for the King to summon her directly to prowl the streets in search of clues. So high up that not even a royal decree of her missing status had reached Jeanne. Meanwhile Jeanne was looking for a bar-owner's daughter... What was she getting herself into? As she looked around, she noted the spires that now stretched into the night sky were far too ordered to be the jagged teeth of a horrid monster. Their expensive architecture denoted that the two had made their way to the wealthiest circles of the inner city. Still on foot; as they walked, Jeanne noted that any of the weak moonlight that hadn't been blocked out before, was now completely eliminated from vision by the slowly rising, perfectly ordered spires. They were spines of the monster... or perhaps a gate? Hiding some majestic secret in the quiet night. The perfectly ordered miniature castles, afforded only to the wealthiest merchants of the realm, were filled with sleeping residents of the city, yet, Jeanne felt alone here, with her stern and intriguing white-haired guide? Did death await her in the darkness ahead? Or secrets? She pressed on. Her fingertips became like ice as they approached a dead end of a winding alley. What filled her vision was a large door, dimly lit by candle, and two men, dressed similarly to Isabella. Was this the entrance? Was there some grand assassin's complex behind these two mere men and a door? Jeanne didn't know what she had expected at the end of the trek-- she had pictured something much more sinister, and perhaps a little less low-key. Although, in hindsight, it makes perfect sense for the door to be hidden in plain sight, even guard duty wasn't irregular on the upper side of town. It felt like it had been hours ago when the pair's footsteps produced the squelch of wet dirt, and that had eventually become [i]'clacks'[/i] against worn stone and brick-- Jeanne almost gave a double-take when the sounds stopped altogether, as the pair, too, stopped walking. She stood before the door, ever so slightly behind Isabella, feeling just a tad intimidated by their scowls. Their nature was clearly similar to Isabella's. Isabella began to speak, but Jeanne's eyes wandered to the only unique feature of this dead end-- there was a black cat, seemingly engraved into the very wood of the door. Most saw black cats as sinister beings of curses. Jeanne, ever the rebel, felt a kinship with the creatures, black cats were Cheshire animals, like her; [i]curious.[/i] [i]Meow.[/i] She couldn't help it. The cat looked happy-- playful even! It was in a coquettish pose-- almost childish-- licking it's paw, looking at you, a curl in it's tail made an S that was bigger than it's body. Emerald eyes seemed to purr in the wood. Jeanne caught herself, distracted by the kitten. The city had been humid moments before, but now the air felt like that of an arctic tundra. The chill traveled up her fingers, and moved along her arms, her legs felt as though they were submerged in rising snow. She may have even felt frost in her horns! Isabella's cool demeanor multiplied in the presence of these men-- the stone-faced assassins were so cold in their interactions that Jeanne could feel the temperature change by just witnessing it, a froideur in the gale around her body. It wasn't enough to extinguish the fire in her curiosity-- she was going to see the Assassins Guild in mere moments! She wondered if that curious nature would remain like the black cat once she stepped onto the other side of the door it would remain forever etched into. Would it endure? Jeanne remained off to the side as the three spoke, Isabella went through the motions to gain entrance-- apparently her name alone was enough rank above these men to grant her the ability to command them. They stepped aside, and as Isabella, or Isa, opened the door, she motioned for Jeanne to follow. With a nod, she did. And as she did so, the guards asked a final question, which Isabella had a one word answer for; [i]Questioning.[/i] A crack in her bonheur appeared, and her smile at the cat vanished. Suddenly, Jeanne felt a lot closer to how she had when she had first heard those words uttered. [i]Assassins Guild.[/i] They had slipped so easily from Isabella's lips, as had the reason she'd brought Jeanne here. The beast's maw she had fallen into was that of a black cat. Of a beast of her own curiosity-- or [i]questioning.[/i] Jeanne did suppose in quite a few ways, she [i]was[/i] questioning-- many things, in fact-- but she knew that wasn't what that word meant. Jeanne tilted her head, while following Isabella into the midnight black rotunda, it seemed the black cat had all black insides. The interior was amazingly designed ; certainly dark in tone, very somber, and clearly inspired by classic Gothic designs-- unlike the rest of the faux-regal wealth of this district-- like the rest of the district, this place couldn't have been built on a discount. The kings influence showed in the form of shining, flawless marble walls and obsidian floors. Jeanne's eyes were drawn to the fountain in the center of it all, and the strange black liquid that poured forth from it. If Isabella was merely leading an unassuming woman to a monster, then the black Jeanne was now in was the belly. Jeanne was visibly unnerved. Walking forward into the rotunda, she turned to Isabella, "Questioning...?" She repeated, breaking the silence of the eerie black room, "Is that a polite assassin term for [i]'torture?'[/i]"