[u][i][b]Vaughtar's room
[/b][/i][/u]
"Gargoyles? Yes. We have those but in our world..." Winston hesitated, not sure how the creature might bear this news, "... They are only stone carvings." Was this congruence between Earth and Munimis and so many others merely coincidence? "There are stories and legends of gargoyles coming to life, but, this has never been verified as fact." TRIDENT had found many myths to be in fact, but, not the story of gargoyles. 

"Actually, when wee found you, you were not stone. You were unconscious and wounded." 

He swallowed hard as the gargoyle pinned Winston with his eyes. 

"Magic... Yes. Though, it is not very common at all. Most people on Earth believe that it does not exist. It is the same with Vamps... Vampires? You mean? Werewolves... and un-dead. They have been verified to exist, but most people do not know they are real."

"I am getting the sense that in your world these things are quite common. Here on Earth, they are nearly extinct." Winston bowed his head solemnly.

"Our organization, TRIDENT, is unqiue. We know about these things to be true because we seek them, many of us [i]are[/i] them. It is why we came to the RIFT. We detected it and... Well... We make it our job to see to these things here on Earth, on behalf of those who can not or will not accept that responsibility."

[u][i][b]
The Meeting Room.[/b][/i][/u]

Rozalind put her hands on the table, glaring down the monk. She did not like to repeat herself. "You know what we know. We do not have any suspects for who opened the rift. We do not know what they meant to do. None of you seem to remember anything useful, and no one who was on [i]this[/i] side before it happened is alive to speak of it. From what I understand even the dead could not be recovered for questioning."

She turned away from the group with a 'huff', crossing her arms and glaring at the screen. It shifted again, to an topographical view of the castle. 

"The problem isn't that no one can read them. The problem is that they were blown away by the blizzard wind. Magicians of many sorts draw their circles and symbols in white chalk or paint." She began to pace around the table. "The majority are obscured. Blood-magic is a game that many play and few win..." She turned her head slightly, an idea coming to her mind... She would be sore to admit that the thought might have been inspired by the monk's question. "We will compile a list of all known blood-magicians that are at least half-competent." 

There was a pause.

"By 'We' you mean 'Me'?" Zesiro sighed. He took out what looked like a tablet, and began to give the small glowing plate his full attention.