The air tasted like an excited crowd, perhaps even too excited. Blood, sweat, alcohol and many other smells blanketed the inventor's showing. Mokk twitched a little, he hadn't eaten in days but it didn't bother him very much. The pesky guards had disarmed him but he had to agree with their sense of reason. Leaving a daeva with his axe in the middle of a seraphim capitol was not a wise move with war on the brink. Best not to aggravate them. The last thing he wanted to see was the end of his people. Mokk may be a bloodthirsty killer but to kill his own was beneath him and if he didn't get his message out then he may as well be doing that.

	Mokk fingered through the pocket in the inside of the musky traveling cloak to make sure his package hadn't disappeared. Touching the thin envelope, he relaxed a little. Such a tiny and fragile thing that weighed so heavy in his pocket.

	The reaction that Mokk had faced at the gate was interesting. He apparently wasn't the only daeva here and that meant he was where he wanted to be. Where could she be, he pondered. The capital smelled too elegant, too fancy. It was repulsive to be in a place with so many people shoving their heads so far up their caboose with their repulsive magic and highborn crap. The sneering looks from citizens only solidified his opinion. They were mixed with disdain and fear.
	The croc paused to ask a more down-to-earth looking fellow, "Do you know of a group of daevan ambassadors in the city?"

	The seraphim paused a moment before fully answering, "Hmm..? Uh, oh yes! I do believe I saw a few around town. They're pretty hard to miss."

	"What did they look like?" Mokk continued. If he could get a clear identification he wouldn't have to waste time looking.

	"Huh.. well I only saw a couple of them, see? There was one small and scaly lady heading toward the coliseum and I saw a wolfish looking lad. I would say he was a little smaller than you! Pretty furry couldn't miss em'!", the man paused again in deep recollection, "Uh I think that's all I got, sorry. I hope I was helpful."

	Dralina Blazion, queen of the daeva, was not particularly small so the description made him skeptical. "That's alright. Thank you." The gratitude rolled out as awkward as if he had never thanked anyone before. He wasn't after a lizard woman or a wolf. Mokk needed his Highness. Perhaps more accurately, his highness needed him. Mokk moved forward. There could be no doubt that those seeking the feral cure were here in Adalrich vying for the seraphim's attention.

	A scent emblazoned his nostrils. It was like that of dull charcoal slathered on leather. The scent was so familiar to him he knew it had to belong to a dragon. The Queen was close. Mokk lowered himself to take in more of the scent so that he may stalk it. Seraphim onlookers gawked at him as if he were a stray dog about to bite. He sped forward, pursuing the smell through an alley into an opposing street and saw her. At times like this it was damn good to be able to smell. Mokk had to pity the other races, they were missing out. Dralina Blazion was in transit to the Council of the Righteous.

	"My Queen!" Mokk bellowed in his low tone. A phrase that would certainly catch her attention in this foreign land. "I have important news." He explained as he caught up. From his cloak pocket he withdrew the envelope with a broken seal on it.