[hider=Alejandra]
Unbeknownst to Alejandra, the gift giving process at the wedding of a to be crowned king was particularly disorderly. Gifts were likely taken at the door, divided into many subcategories, such as living and nonliving, and properly stored and taken care for until the king could address them after the guests had left, not before the careful sweeping and searching of all of them for poisons, weapons, or other slyly hidden assassination attempts. Afterwards, the king would send a handwritten letter expressing his gratitude and, if the gift was particularly noteworthy, return the favor. Whether that would happen at Albany's most widely watched, anticipated, and populated wedding and crowning in its regal succession history, one couldn't tell. She received another worthwhile opportunity in the meantime. Considering Conrad's spite, one might wonder if there's something else in store for Alejandra that a seasoned diplomat knows about that she would not, and that challenging him was a poor decision. Unfortunately, nothing can be undone. Whatever comes of it must be salvaged. 

Alejandra still had many options; she could mingle among the party, and attempt to draw something out of the snooty nobles. She could head up to the balcony and see the Purple Piper, the Famous and Infamous, who was directing the band. At the moment he appeared to be chatting with the not-quite-as-famed mysterious medicine woman. She could visit the party from Blackwater, return with Conrad to their quarters in another part of the city, or wander dark, empty halls of the building. [/hider]

[hider=Remix]
"He he he he he..." the old man cackled, his toothy, yellow grin on display. "How about you stay here? I doubt you'll be more moved than you already are. After all, he's only a man, isn't he? One that we [i]medicine men[/i] must pass judgment upon?" Lugurix continued his mocking laughter, every biting word tickling him further. 

"Or have you made your verdict already?" Lugurix asked, looking into Remix's eyes deliberately. He held it for a moment, his practiced gaze. His mind took a stroll through Remix like a woodsman in a forest, if his eyes were to be believed. No more communication was needed. Meeting someone with that gaze is rare enough, let alone have them absorb one wholesale like that. Lugurix lifted his eyebrows questioningly, waiting for an answer. How could one answer a question when their answers have all been said? More than that, how is one supposed to answer a question when one's answers have already been anticipated? 

Lugurix laughed again and broke his spell. His eyes glossed over again, staring at the corner of the wall. Or outside. No one can tell where he's looking. He must be blind. "What can one man do after all?" 

 Silence followed. Lugurix pointed to a man in the back, dark corner of the room, somehow. "Speak to this man. He shows early symptoms of the plague. Find out where he's been. Maybe we can steer everyone clear of whatever he's been doing." [/hider]

[hider=Bern]
Dietrich continued into the dark halls of the building. He took many unfortunate turns down the empty hallways. Light began to fade as he entered the parts of the building no one expected him to wander. Rectangular outlines began to line the floor and walls, indicating something had been there for centuries, but was no longer. He continued walking as the hallways became dimmer and dimmer. He could look behind him and still see light, but it was so far away, one would wonder if that light could see him anymore. 

He took on last turn into what he thought was a doorway, but was actually a closed, locked door. Dietrich smacked himself loudly on the door, the sound of his frame meeting another frame resonating through the darkness. He stammered back bumping into something else. That something was a someone. 

"You are still drawn to it, darkling. But you are not attuned to it anymore." It hissed like a rattlesnake in the grass. Dietrich could turn to speak to him, if he liked, but one wonders if he could even see him. [/hider]