[center][img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][color=2956b2]March 22nd, 1823[/color][/b][/h1]
[img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]Scotland[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	"I see," Callum said, not exactly convinced that she was telling him the whole truth on how she felt about the deception but he wasn't going to pry. He had after all deceived her to a point since she had arrived. Nodding he stepped over to the carriage and held the door open for her with one hand and the other held out to her to help her into the carriage if she chose to take it. 

	Rory sniggered a bit but didn't say anything, especially after the look the [i]priest[/i] shot him. Climbing back up into the driver seat he took a hold of the reins and waited for them to get situated. Callum watched Rory for a moment before his eyes went back to Maeve. Giving her a slight smile his eyes motioned towards the carriage. "Come now, Father Blair here to help you with all your spiritual needs. Shall we proceed?" he asked her trying to make light of the situation. 

	"Seriously though, I am a priest, and a parson... Long story, will tell you if you want to know. I at least owe you that," he said. Rory's brows shot up and his head snapped quickly as he looked down at Callum. Rory knew why the deception was needed, knew the history of Callum, the two were closer than Callum was with his entire family. Yet hearing him willing to tell someone else about it pulled a look of astonishment from the carriage driver. 

[center][hr][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]England[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[color=2956b2]Case Name:[/color] Death of a Garden
	[color=2956b2]Location:[/color] Crypt Manor (London)
	[color=2956b2]Time:[/color] An hour or two
	[color=2956b2]Reason:[/color] Same as before
	[color=2956b2]Group:[/color] The Crypts 
[hider=My Hider]
	 Like with previous rounds, Virginia is still seeking answers. (And she will until you tell me otherwise lol) - So continue as before. Pm me for rolls on tests you think she should take, or questions about what she could or couldn't do with her skill sets. (Trained and not.) - Another 7 days. 
[/hider]

	[b][i][color=2956b2]The Strand:[/color][/i][/b] "Yup but you don't seem to speak much," Michael chuckled a bit before banging on the door again. "Nuetermyre! Wake your ass up!" Michael bellowed as he kept banging on the door. There was a sound from the window upstairs over them. A sound of something crashing, a banging, and then a slew of curses that would have made a sailor blush. The window flung open and an old man that looked more like he should be a patient in a hospital than a doctor on the streets peeks his head out. 

	"What in the blazes!" he shouted before looking down and spotting Michael and the corpse. "Alright, alright, I'm coming. Stop beating on my door before you knock it off its hinges," he spouted before disappearing back into the window. Michael just shook his head and glanced over towards Thalken. 

	"Watch your pockets in here," he warned Thalken as he heard the locks on the door start to turn. Looking back at the door it opened and there Nuetermyre stood in his robe and slippers. 

	"What is all this?" he asked. Michael explained in short fashion what had happened. "So I am to hold a body? They better be paying me for the space."

	"I have no information on that, just need to drop it off."

	"You know where," Nuetermyre said, giving Thalken the once over and licking his lips before turning and walking off. Heading back up the stairs without a word. Michael couldn't help but roll his eyes as he turned back to Thalken. 

	"And your virtue," Michael said, adding to his warning from earlier. "Let's get this body moved," he said as he climbed into the back of the cart and grabbed the dead man by the shoulders, leaving the feet hanging off the edge of the wood to Thalken. "On three, and lift."

	Sarah Ann still didn't wake, thrashing about like a bug caught on its back. That was until Francis pushed the girls aside and tried to wake her. The poor girl bolted straight up right and looked with wild eyes around the room. Her chest heaving as she panted for breath. "Bollocks," she said in a weary voice before her eyes finally came to Francis and found that she was in her room surrounded by people she knew, living people. Letting out a sigh of relief she fell forward against the madame and apologized. 

	"Oh twas horrible madame! This head be rolling after me, I kept running but it wouldn't stop. I climbed things, turned this way and that, but the head kept coming for me. Head of the dead man it was. Then soons as I thought I was safe, his body came after mes from another ways. Two pieces running and rolling after me. Was maddening, I nevers wants to sleep again," she cried against Francis. 

	[b][i][color=2956b2]Regent's Park:[/color][/i][/b] Sister Sophia looked at Vlad and nodded. Gathering up herself as Myska circled around them before starting to growl at the crowd that was around. The tiger causing the people to part like the red sea and keeping a quick enough pace to stay ahead of Vlad until he reached the personal tent of Veta. Myska leaped up onto the bed and turned slightly before basically flopping down like he did every night. His body curling about. This was how he always slept, there in bed with the Grand Duchess, as a pillow in the summer, warmth in the winter. 

	It was probably a good thing Elizaveta had spent so much time with the animal, raising him from a cub. He was far more docile towards her than most others that trained animals. Like a child has a connection with its mother. And right then Veta needed all the warmth she could get. As Vlad carried her, her body was ice cold, far colder than the waters had been and while she was breathing, she still had bits of frost on her blue tinged lips, her hair crusting over like frozen gold, and her body involuntarily shaking from the chill that ran to her bones. Yet she still made not a sound, not a whimper of pain, not a movement of her eyes under the lids. 

	Adam looked around the chaos that was going about, watching cautiously as he sat there before Sister Mary. He didn't say anything at first but then looked up at her. "Go that way," he said as a chill ran through his body. His finger pointing off further into the tent city. It wasn't a second later that Myska came pushing through and parting the crowd before ducking into a large extravagant tent. It was much smaller than the main one but much larger than the rest that seemed to be various homes for other performers. Sister Sophia was coming through the crowd but her eyes caught a glimpse of the two there on the horse, it wasn't every day another nun was in eye shot of her. She looked at them confused but turned away and headed towards the tent that Myska had just gone in, yelling back at Vlad. "Hurry, gods speed now!"

	[b][i][color=2956b2]Westminster Hospital:[/color][/i][/b] Dr. Graham stood there and sighed a bit to himself. "I do not believe that anyone harm will come to your reputation Sir Kildragon even if you were to flay the main at the gates of Buckingham and set him aflame. If anything, it might raise people's opinions of you," he said gravely before shaking off the thought. He would actually have paid a kings ransom to see such an act. 

	Pulling out his pocket watch he looked at the time, stepping over to where the nurses were he found the papers on Mrs. Wyndham and checked her visitors log. His finger ran over the paper before checking his watch again. Grumbling to himself he turned back to the two men that were there. He looked them both over. He wasn't sure what their relations with Millicent were but it was more than obvious that they seemed to be the only ones he had met thus far that seemed to care whether the woman lived or died. It was more than he could hope for at that point. 

	"If he is doing what I believe he shall, he already has at least an eight hour head start on the both of you, maybe as many as twelve," he said as he motioned for them to follow him down the hall a bit. On the wall was a casting of bronze of England with the counties marked out. He pointed to the high point of England, where Scotland would have touched the border. "Gretna Green is where I believe he is taking her," he said before looking back at them. "He must be at least to Nottingham by now. I do not know if you will reach him in time to stop a marriage... Time is not on your side with such an advantage of time and distance as he must have already placed between him and London. We can only hope that he feels threatened and is not pushing for speed. If he be, all hope for the girl may be lost."