[center] [b] 6:15pm, Last Seed 16 Pantry, Evermore Castle [/b] [indent] [indent] [hr] [/indent] [/indent] [/center] [indent] By the time Edith arrived, Tsleeixth had already sorted out his problems. Teranse and Zavin splayed out on the floor, dead. One of them was cut down by blade, while the other met his demise through magic. Tsleeixth himself didn't even have a scratch on him (an unbelievable first for him). The Argonian was dragging the cooks' corpses out of public view, and when Edith interrupted, he barely spared her a glance. "My, Kyne's breath, that's..." Edith was speechless. She's no stranger to corpses, but seeing Tsleeixth in such aftermath, as a cold-blooded killer, was definitely not something she expected. "So, what happened?" Tsleeixth remained silent. He threw the corpses behind the largest containers and walked out of the room, not giving a single damn. On his way past her, Edith noticed Tsleeixth wearing a shell-like necklace, and it was glowing bright red underneath his shirt... [/indent] [center] [b] 6:50pm, Last Seed 16 Royal Garden, Evermore Castle [/b] [indent] [indent] [hr] [/indent] [/indent] [/center] [indent] Keegan had been juggling big balls in his clown suit for the last thirty minutes, and aside from the occasional guests laughing and mocking him, there was zero action to be seen. Vampires? Not a single trace. He did hear of some juicy gossips going on in the back, but that's none of Keegan's business (the crate-shipped group should take care it, right?). While juggling was a welcome and familiar distraction from the supposed danger lurking in the shadows, Keegan really hoped he could enjoy himself a bit more here. He would rather have one of those tasty dishes to eat, or maybe even try out those colorful infusions. Oh well, no one had been by his corner of the garden for almost ten minutes now, so Keegan decided to pack up his balls and leave. Just as he was walking away, a mysterious individuals in dark robes and an ornate mask approached Keegan. "Excuse me, sir, can I request a private performance?" The mystery person asked, with a strange accent that Keegan never heard before. "Uh," Keegan shook his head, "sorry, my show tonight's over." "How about a bonus booking then?" The individual rustled their pocket, the jingle of coins evident. "Just my friends and I, in one of the staterooms above. It'll be a bloody good time for everyone." Something didn't sound right, but Keegan decided to go along anyway. As he was led halfway through the castle, he realized the masked person had signatures of magic. The magicka was equally as foreign as the accent. But nothing was as foreign as the scene Keegan was about to walk into. He was approaching the most well tucked away stateroom possible, probably in a bonus floor between second and third floors of the castle, and down a bare corridor that opened to an even more blank corridor. Finally, they walked to the last double door. It had none of the grand decorations present in other areas of the castle, and just beyond them was someone moaning; it sounded like...Lucex Venatorii? Sure enough, the doors opened to reveal none other than Lucex him(her?)self. Lucex was half-naked (wearing the torn remains of a lacy dress) on a large bed, with three people (in similar states of undress) surrounding him. For Keegan's lack of better words, Lucex was in a "compromising" position, appearing delirious and entranced. The other three, well, they turned to look at the newcomers. All three were pale, red-eyed and had fang-like teeth. Satisfied to see someone they expected, one of them went back to biting Lucex's neck. "Heh, so, this is funny..." Keegan giggled nervously. He found the masked person behind him to be deadly serious, and also put both hands firmly around his sides. "Quite the opposite, sir." The mystery person announced. Off came the mask and out came the vampire. "We take dinner very seriously; it would be rude to not join us." Keegan read enough cheap horror novels to know how this goes. Without hesitation, he slapped the vampire with the strongest paralysis spell and [abbr=got the hell out of Dodge]got the Oblivion out of Windhelm[/abbr]. He ran through the empty corridors like the champion sprinter Yousane Bol't, and ran aimlessly like that celebrity half-wit forester G'ump. Keegan's pretty sure he knocked over a couple of expensive statues and paintings in the process, and someone was upset at him. In fact, he didn't even care if anyone's still pursuing him until guards started yelling from behind. "Stop right there, criminal, uh, clown scum!" Oh right, Keegan's still wearing that stupid suit. Yeah, he's not stopping now. He's going so blindingly fast that he ran right into the strong arms of an Altmer lord. This high elf was even taller than Keegan himself, and a lot firmer (also not as golden, but who cares?). He caught Keegan and held him tightly to his wheezing and panting pursuers. "In the, phew, name of the duchess," the fattest guard coughed, doubled over and hands on his knees, "you are under arrest for, uh..." "Mischief," another guard shrugged, "I guess..." While Keegan was stuttering for something clever to say, the Altmer lord pulled him closer and spoke on his behalf. "But is it not the jester's task to perform mischief?" A cryptic smile accompanied the lord's smooth words. Keegan also sensed magicka. "Let us have fun for once, dutiful protectors; this is not the clown you're looking for." "Not the clown we're looking for." The guards agreed. "Apologies, Lord Nyrehtaud." Then they marched back out in near unison. All Keegan could do then was laugh. Damn his stuttering, damn his social awkwardness. Though this was kind of funny, and when Keegan inspected his savior, he found that cryptic smile still plastered on Nyrehtaud's face. Suppose this lord also shared Keegan's "peculiar" sense of humor. Using magic to bolster his speech like that, Keegan was impressed. The only thing left was to show his appreciation, and stumbling through his mumbles with great effort, Keegan finally managed a weak "thanks". "No need to thank me, my impish little jester." Lord Nyrehtaud said. "I believe your best performance is yet to come; Master Horace Fontaine there is dying to be entertained." "Yes, right, what?" Keegan startled. Did Nyrehtaud read his mind or something? "Horace...Fontaine?" "Of course." Nyrehtaud beamed. His smile grew even bigger, if that's possible. "There's plenty of patrons for you tonight, and plenty of time..." [/indent]