[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/CV8efmG.jpg?1[/img][/center]
[center][i][h1]Esoterica[/h1][/i]
[sub]Part II [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/143799-create-a-hero-a-superhero-rpg-season-2-new-horizons-always-open/ic?page=39#post-4742286](See Part I)[/url][/sub][/center]

[center][b]Location: Tretower Court, Powys, Wales
Time: 10:30 a.m., Two Years Ago[/b]
[hider=Ars Obscura Members][img]https://i.imgur.com/LCPYdQB.jpg?1[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/FLgo1eb.jpg?1[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/Cs09Pow.jpg?1[/img][/hider][/center]
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Dust lingered in stale air, sent aloft by a squadron of Cadw staff and local preservationists preparing the manor for a charity banquet. The banner of a local lord lined the rough stone walls and high wooden arches as a nod to its medieval history. Ursula coughed as she passed a woman beating dirt from an antique rug, doubling over as a sharp pain contorted her chest and stomach. 

“Are you alright, ma’am?” the woman rushed to Ursula’s side, offering her shoulder as a support while gripping Ursula’s cane to steady it. 

[color=CFA4FD]”Yes,”[/color] she managed between coughing fits, [color=CFA4FD]”just the dust, I’ll be fine.”[/color] 

The miasma was taking its toll. Ursula knew that, with time, her symptoms would subside, but her immune system was severely compromised, her sinuses flared, more prone to allergens. She desperately needed rest. 

[color=B0C4DE]”I’m on it!”[/color] a voice sounded through the hall. Gideon, a young cunning man native to Wales, weaved through an awkward array of dining chairs and drying tablecloths, greeting Ursula with a plucky smile. His hair was a sandy colour, shaved on the sides and swept atop his head to right, the hint of curls forming in a stubborn fringe that he relentlessly reshaped. He was attired smartly, draped in a navy, form-fitting robe styled similarly to a monk or bishop, with a cross dangling from his neck. 

[color=CFA4FD]”Thank you, Gideon,”[/color] Ursula picked herself up, nodding at the volunteer to return to her duties, distributing her weight between her cane and Gideon’s left shoulder. [color=CFA4FD]”Bring me to the Observatory, if you wouldn’t mind.”[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]”Sure about that?”[/color] he added skeptically, walking her over to a chair clear of dusty linens. [color=B0C4DE]”You’ll work yourself to death, Ursula . . .”[/color]

She sneered at him.

[color=B0C4DE]”Miss Wyrcroft,”[/color] he corrected himself. [color=B0C4DE]”but you know I’m right. Take the day off, or the next several days. I can take care of the banquet and overlook construction of the tunnels.”[/color]

Ursula let out a labored chuckle. [color=CFA4FD]”That’s kind of you, Gideon, but this is my operation. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’d rather be present during construction. And if I’m needed to run off more unwanted guests.”[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]”I might have overheard some of that. Who was he?”[/color]

Ursula shook her head, playfully swatting Gideon’s leg with her free hand. [color=CFA4FD]”A pain in my ass from the Agency, nosing his way into matters that don’t concern him, as the Agency is want to do. Don’t worry about him too much, but I fear that as more time passes, the Agency, and parliament for that matter, might become a problem. We’ll need to maintain this illusion as best we can, lest our work be undermined by bureaucracy.”[/color]

Inhaling, Ursula stood up, balancing on her cane. [color=CFA4FD]”Now, let’s get moving. If I sit too long I’ll be stiff.”[/color]

Gideon considered whether he should continue his protests, but decided against it. He knew how stubborn Ursula could be, it was a losing battle. Taking her arm in his, he lead her through the hall adjacent to the courtyard to a set of stairs hidden beneath a floor runner and a wooden panel. Carefully, he lifted to trapdoor, waiting for it to click into place before descending a series of stone stairs that led into darkness. Ursula went first, keeping a hand on the wall to steady herself, progressing only a few stairs down before waiting on Gideon, who followed closely behind, moving the panel to its original position. He took Ursula’s hand and continued to lead her down the stairs toward a stone landing, illuminated faintly by distant fixtures.

[center][h3][b]*********[/b][/h3][/center]

Beneath the Tretower Court lie the headquarters of the Ars Obscura, an extension of the forgotten cellar and a faery mound running under the property. Around the clock construction began during Ursula’s final months in the London branch of the Agency. In its current state, the subterranean base was divided into five distinct sections: the Observatory, a modest living space decorated in the style of the court above, fitted with electric wall sconces, medieval decor, a wall of shelves that acted as a manual filing system, small alcoves with desks, tables, and benches for socialization, and windows overlooking the three major sections of the base. 

The Laboratory came next, connected to the Observatory and housing worn stations where tools of the trade lie neatly organized, tall partitions separating the different work spaces. Further downstairs, visible from the Observatory, lie the Armoury, Library, and Reliquary. 

The Armoury housed enchanted, cursed, or otherwise magical weapons and arms collected by the Ars Obscura, each contained in its own case with a placard to describe its name, if it held one, and a brief summary of its power. Next door, the Library held the Ars’s collection of magical tomes, including those taken in the field, and any donated by Ars members. Within the library were small desks and studies for silent research, as well as a central, circular table for discussion. Finally, the Reliquary kept all remaining items, magical devices, enchanted jewelry, organized in the same fashion to the Armoury. 

Moving about the base were a small cast of characters, recent additions to the Ars Obscura and founding members taken in by Ursula upon its creation. The Ars had only five senior members beneath Ursula, known as Sages, seven field agents, called Magicians, and three initiates or Apprentices. 

Ursula held no fanciful title, preferring the mundane choice, Director. Gideon, while only a Magician, was well on his way to becoming Sage, given to taking on more responsibility than was expected of him, a trait Ursula admired and rewarded.

Taking a seat on a low bench just inside the Observatory, Ursula hailed a passing Magician, whom she recognized as a sorceress from the Netherlands. [color=CFA4FD]”Go to the Laboratory and prepare a divination, would you? Fourth Pentacle of Mercury should suffice.”[/color]

The Magician nodded, hurrying to the Lab.

[color=B0C4DE]”Fourth of Mercury? Must be quite the obstacle blocking your path. What’s the divination for?”[/color]

[color=CFA4FD]”A precautionary glimpse into the future of our operation,”[/color] she sighed, rolling her neck to relieve herself of stiffened muscles. To no avail. [color=CFA4FD]”I can feel something brewing, just not sure what.”[/color]

[color=DCDCDC]”Merlyn!”[/color] a tall lad dressed all in black and grey came with silent footfalls, waving to Gideon before running into him. A playful gesture, something between friends. He bent forward, ever so, and kissed Gideon, first his forehead, then his lips. 

[color=CFA4FD]”Merlyn?”[/color] Ursula shook her head, smiling. 

[color=B0C4DE]”Codenames, Ur . . . Miss Wyrcroft. I picked Merlyn, spelled with a ‘y’. I think it’s appropriate. And Orrin-”[/color]

[color=DCDCDC]”Warlock,”[/color] Orrin interrupted, [color=DCDCDC]”Scottish terminology and all that. How d’ya like it?”[/color]

[color=CFA4FD]”Well it’s ridiculous, but far be it from me to step in the way of your fun, so long as you keep me out of it.”[/color]

Orrin and Gideon continued to elbow and push one another, always keeping on arm or hand in contact with the other. Ursula was apprehensive about allowing a relationship among her subordinates; it was prohibited under the Agency. But she reminded herself, time and again, that her operation was everything the Agency wasn’t, and denying her operatives such happiness would make her a tyrant. In any case, she was pleased with their dynamic, “Warlock” and “Merlyn.” A fated meeting, one the seventh son of the seventh son, born with the Sight and taken by witchcraft in his adolescence, the other a cunning man studying under a Catholic priest. 

Ursula introduced the two only a month ago. She’d known Gideon from her time at the Agency, the apprentice of an associate in London. He jumped at the chance to return to Wales, continue his education in folk magic. Orrin, however, had come as a surprise. He was an oddity, born with the Sight, but also marked as a witch, branded with a symbol she had never seen before, one that conferred certain gifts. Were she more like her former employers, she would fear it, keep him under constant watch. But again, she wasn’t them.

The Agency had wanted to detain Orrin, who’d broken into a string of jewelry stores in Scotland with his strange gifts - taking nothing, oddly - before finding himself at the mercy of the Agency’s wards. Ursula, ever the opportunist, believed his skills could be of use, thus recruiting him. And the Ars Obscura found its first witch.

[color=CFA4FD]”While I have you,”[/color] she reached for Orrin’s hand. [color=CFA4FD]”’Warlock’, how goes the search for Scot’s Triumvirate? Was his wand in Cornwall as you suspected?”[/color]

[color=DCDCDC]”No, and nothin to lead me to it. The old wizard hid his trinkets well. I’m off to Romania next. Heard about a cabal of sorcerers there that might help.”[/color]

[color=B0C4DE]”Be safe,”[/color] Gideon took Orrin’s hand in his, kissing it, touching it to his cheek.

[color=DCDCDC]”Don’t worry about me, it’s this one you need to watch.”[/color] he gripped Ursula’s hand. [color=DCDCDC]”You’d better not haunt us when you work yourself to death.”[/color]

Ursula chuckled, then coughed. If nothing else, she had a team who cared for her, more than she could say for her former team. Already the fruits of their labor were being plucked from the ripened tree; the Armoury and Reliquary housed a combined 150 cataloged artifacts, and the Library held almost 300 recovered volumes, and another 250 donated by different members. With time, her body would heal. With time, the Ars Obscura would rise to prominence, unseen, unknown, only felt.