[center][h3]Knight Sylvestre and the Cereal Killer[/h3] Location: Oldtown Plaza [@Propro][/center] A subtle change could be gleaned from the knight in particular as Runch approached. Though he appeared just as guarded, the outright hostility that haunted his features before waned when the captain presented himself openly. Perhaps the vanguard did not lessen his suspicion of an attack, but rather he seemed to respect Runch being up-front with his intentions, whatever they might be. Silence came as the pirate's reply after his introduction, continuing until his request had been extended across the timeworn cobblestone. Eyes still dull, the knight glanced at his comrade, who gave a noncommittal shrug in reply. Removing a hand from his polearm, the knight reached up to the screw that protruded from his head, and began to finagle it in a casual manner. “Might as well,” he drawled. “Cyril. A vanguard in service of the city Malingurd.” He paused to allow Juniper to introduce herself if she wanted, but she shook her head. Though he'd been the one to reply, Cyril seemed to share her disillusionment with any niceties, evidenced by the almost sleepy, resigned look his affixed to Runch. “Awful carefree for someone who's made it this far in this bloody tournament,” he remarked, “Don't tell me you're enjoying this, pirate?” A detectable undercurrent of bitter scorn affected his voice as he asked, not really caring one way or another if the ridiculous man answered answered. Beside him, Juniper put a hand on her hip. “Not much use chatting if someone's going to die in a few minutes. Unless you don't actually want to fight?” “Hah. Nobody's backing out this far in. But you knew that.” Cyril gave a shrug of his own before frowning at the captain. “No need to beat around the bush, pirate. You [i]could[/i] surrender your heart to me and join us, but you won't. So whatever we say, we'll end up fighting, and either you'll kill me or I'll kill you.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “Maybe the winner will even be the one to survive, get a wish, and realize it wasn't worth it.” Disconsolate, he leaned against his halberd for support, locking eyes with his fellow mustached man. “Make it quick, pirate.” By this time, two new pages had filled into Runch's journal. [i]Cyril Boniface Vanguard knight Formidable, calculating, relentless, resourceful Aggressive yet skillful fighting style using everything he and his environment have to offer. Able to give himself a burst of unhindered speed in any direction. Possessed of incredible precision and clarity of thought should the screw in his head be adjusted just right Juniper Brawling shrine maiden Uncompromising, brutal, confident, manipulative Extreme physical ability that can be even further enhanced in short bursts. Massive prowess as a hand-to-hand fighter. Able to use ritualistic magics to cleanse evil and harness local spirits. Can create and use projected items. Her boots, crafted from the souls of defeated foes, can be used to generate and launch bombs, and to inflict curses that drain life and amplify damage taken, respectively[/i] [center][h3]The Lady in White[/h3] Location: City Street [@Lazo][/center] True to Pithy's hypothesis, the drone which had been fighting to maintain a respectful but constant distance from Bonesword now reoriented itself with respect to Pithy. It pointed the way toward the towering highrises and colossal glass monoliths of the downtown city center, their peaks of steel and concrete silhouetted against a sky tinted by setting sun. In the immediate vicinity, however, a number of smaller buildings lined both sides of the street, which itself split into a four-way intersection only a short distance away. With nothing to worry about in regards to trespassing, the small and strange party could pick freely from any option. A row of small apartment buildings, each one a vertical slice of its own style and design, awaited just next to where the space the phantom restaurant Moscow Caliber had occupied, but the ones across the road were nicer. Nestled here and there were a laundromat, a liquor store called Byway Brews, a sit-down pizza joint by the name of Tempting Mister's, a multi-floor book shop with a uniquely creative architecture, and a parking garage. In the direction Bonesword came from, more stark business buildings formed the bulk of the facilities, though a large sign way down the road indicated the presence of a zoo. Across the intersection, one corner was dominated by a gas station -its lot the most open space in the area one could get aside from the roads themselves-, the strange pumping devices of which were new to Pithy. The other corner featured a hair salon and an office, nestled together. [center][h3]Inari[/h3] Location: Deadbeat Sky [@Kapuchu][/center] Singlemindedly, the Umbra led Lily and Brucie through hallways, up and down stairs, and across various rooms. Many of them, the rooms in particular, harbored all kinds of traps and sported various themes, but anything that might have obstructed a passerby's path looked to be in an inactive state. Only floor and wall glyphs responded to the kitsune's approach, divulging the occasional Umbra to stare as the could-be intruders strode past. Though the route could not be said to be anything but intricate, the journey did not last overlong, and when Lily's guide dove into a floor glyph and disappeared, it was on the threshold of a fascinating door. Embedded in the otherwise normal citadel wall was what could have easily been the jagged, uneven stone surface of a tunnel side deep underground, its angular chunks of obsidian dotted with spikes of metal. Recessed into this misplaced outcrop and at the top of a few steps was the door, a simple if appealing and heavy wrought-iron affair that would take a concerted effort to push open if the lever beside it was not pulled, causing a hidden mechanism to crank open the door using a track in the floor. The workshop's interior stood out as unsettling yet beautiful. It was as if the inside of a cavern, or perhaps the cavity of some leviathan, had been converted into metal and the floor smoothed out. Strangely organic structures of metal, arranged intriguingly alien forms, constituted the walls and furnishings. Tools, various materials and half-finished projects -principally weapons- littered the place. Of special note was the one weapon laid with care against a wall: a weighty brutalizer resembling a pickaxe, though more properly described as a pile bunker on a shaft. The entire room sported a rough Y-shape, with the entrance at one prong. From the right side of the fork came the searing light and heat of a furnace, and the machines preceding it appeared to deal more with the processing and manipulation of raw materials. The fork's other side utilized the entire spectrum, a stunning arcane lightshow emanating from the chamber at its end. Its chaotic, random energies, barely contained behind a magic field whirled and crackled in a tempest of power, and inside that storm a silhouette could be seen. Bipedal, it seemed to be working at some task, but after a few moments it turned to head back toward the workshop proper. As it grew closer, its silhouette became more distinct, taking on the rigid and craggy shape of a golem. Yet, that same inhuman form also appeared to be shrinking, its spikes and disfigurations lessening. In particular, its oblong, three-eyes head rapidly became more ordinary, until the approaching being crossed through the barrier and into the workshop's more normal illumination. The entity still resembled a golem, albeit one with the texture of gleaming stone, but the material on its head and torso had almost fully dissolved. As Lily watched the last of it faded away, leaving a distinctly human male torso and head. With limbs still of metallic stone, he was clad in nothing more than a wrap around his waist and a belt to keep it in place, if one didn't count the 'S'-embellished eyepatch beneath his rich honey-blond hair, which extended to the small of his back in a thick braid. The complex contraption, with a sparking core of magic, hummed in his left hand as he smiled Lily's way. “So you're the ones,” he murmured before giving a deep, extravagant bow, holding the device to his muscular chest. “Welcome to my home sweet home, sir and madam. My name is Serval, here to serve your every need.” He straightened up, and in an offhanded way chucked his gizmo onto a nearby table. It narrowly missed a pile of similar, more stable-looking ones, and rolled off onto the floor. Serval laughed lightly. “But who am I to stand on ceremony? Just tell me what you need, and I will get to work.” [center][h3]The Murder[/h3] Location: Street Mall [@Propro][/center] Sam's fingers, snuck like snakes into the pocket of the odd merchant, encountered a pile of coins with an audible clink. If their owner took any notice, however, he gave no indication, save perhaps a quiet smirk; his attention didn't deviate one inch from the potential customer before him. “Aha! My friend, it is an excellent bargain for us both. You see, what I want from you in payment is something I believe you want to be rid of. Eheh...it might not have occurred to you, but you carry it with you even now.” Pulling away a short distance, and returning to the back of his stand with a flourish, the merchant held out his hand. “Just slip those sticky fingers into your own pocket and pull it out. I can tell you are no man to be afraid of yucky things, but even so, do not be surprised by its strange shape, nor its stomach-churning writhe. In exchange, any one item of mine is free for the taking.”