[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLjViMWQ5Ni5VMkZ0ZFdWc0lFdHBjM05wYm1kbGNnLCwuMAAA/brilhant.regular.png[/img][/center][hr] A slender, well-dressed man affixed his equally-slender glasses more securely to the bridge of his nose as he observed the others in the room. There was not much conversation; they, for the most part, seemed to be contemplating their reasons for being summoned inwardly. That is, until [i]she[/i] entered the room. Arinne Ar-Rynesarte. She addressed the room curtly, before asking of them if they knew their reason for being called. A couple of the others - most notably a woman clad in dark, and a younger man with long black hair - poked at the question with their own input. Others, taking a more carefree approach. It seemed even, that one young lady was not even aware of the recent scandal that was plaguing the streets. Samuel Kissinger stepped forward from his leaning position against the wall, opposite of Arinne's chair. [color=#9932CC]"Madam Arinne Ar-Rynesarte."[/color] he addressed the young woman, accompanying it with a deep bow; his right hand folded inward over his abdomen, the left hand half-stretched out to his side. [color=#9932CC]"An honor, of course."[/color] he said as he stood again. [color=#9932CC]"It is indeed a worrying predicament our streets are in, I must say."[/color] he started, [color=#9932CC]"However...as we can see, there are quite a few of us present today. More than would be needed for a simple rogue mage."[/color] he said, raising his eyebrows at the youngest amongst them. He placed his hands behind his back as he slowly strolled a few steps forward, meeting the edge of the crude circle the group would have formed. [color=#9932CC]"And, yes...he or she does appear to be a mage, due to the nature of all the victims' wounds. Upon first hearing this odd piece of information - it seems organ displacement may be the culprit. Were it to be organ displacement, the perpetrator would need a respectable degree of medical knowledge - just like Jack the Ripper of the eighteenth century."[/color] He circled around the nearest unoccupied chair until he stood in front of it, facing the young Ar-Rynesarte. [color=#9932CC]"The targets are principally the same, demographically - as his or her moniker suggests.."[/color] He made slightly to sit down, before stopping himself with a look of remembrance on his face. Standing straight, he turned towards the middle of the room. [color=#9932CC]"If you do not know, my name is Samuel. Samuel Kissinger. A pleasure to meet each of you."[/color] he said, meeting the room with a much less showy bow than before; a slight bend forward and a head tilt, before he sat down. [color=#9932CC]"If we are intending to apprehend the culprit with as little information as we have seemingly obtained, then we will have to do some reading between the lines - despite what we have or not."[/color] he finished, folding his hands as he listened to any input the others could have. Having been summoned so abruptly was a little perplexing, to say the least. Not to mention, it was a contract Samuel was not even aware of. It seemed his [i]'father'[/i] had been a bit mischievous while he was still around. Spiteful bugger. Well, it didn't matter any way. Samuel was rarely one to turn down an opportunity to help others and potentially improve himself in the same turn. Not that this contract left him with much say in the matter - but even so. One thing you couldn't accurately say about the Kissinger family was that they half-ass'd anything.