[center][h3][u][color=#cbc66d] Roslyn Wicke [/color][/u][/h3][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vzhDyH3.png[/img][/center][center][color=#cbc66d]"When was it first noticed the men were missing?"[/color][/center][h1][center]The Riddle of Lindenholdt [/center][/h1][center][sub]Date and Time: Zales 30th, 4:00 HS Location: Lindenholdt[/sub][/center] [h2]The Letter[/h2][hider=*] [i]Roslyn pulled a strand of hair out from her eyes. Dressed in a simple skirt, a dark blouse, and boots, she stepped off the boat's edge and onto the dock. Her hand rested on the satchel filled with her gear on her side. The eerie silence struck her first causing a shiver to slither- Wait. When did I get back here? Roslyn's question emerged from the depths of her mind. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, noticing the dark crooked trees crowding in. A heavy mist floated among their shapes and hovered above the murky water. Behind the edge, everything beyond her sight seemed to fade into white. Her breath held in her throat. Eyes flickered with fear, darting from right to left, seeking the source of this dread. Something was out there. The silence began to suffocate her. Mist swirled around her as if it was stalking her, trapping her in place. Roslyn pushed back at that feeling causing her foot to step out. Her mousy form parted a path among the haze, bringing her deeper into the bog. With each step, her knuckles tightened their grip on her smoking bandit. A wail shattered the silence. Roslyn crumbled to her knees and slammed her hands on her ears. The pain vibrated in her skull as her mind ceased its thoughts. Her eyes frantically sought for the source. Movement came from her right. She forced herself upright and twisted about, frozen to the spot. A shadow detached itself from its brethren and stepped out into the open. Something dangled from its jaws. A white swaddle of cloth carrying something. Red stained the bottom before it dripped into the water, staining the sickly green water. Cold black eyes locked with hers. An unnatural blend of animal and demon reflected on its monstrous features. Seeming to sense her fear, lips curled into a wicked smile. The cloth dropped then vanished into the water. Its muscles quivered then snapped forward, rushing at her. Roslyn turned and bolted away. Her boots scattered water as her arms stretched out for the boat. From the corner of her vision, she spotted the snapping jaws close in… [/i] [hr] Roslyn jerked awake at the sound of a knock. Her eyes snapped to the door as she shot upright, her head pounding. Every beat sent a new spike of pain jolting through her skull and drew out a groan. She scanned the room and immediately recognized it as the captain’s cabin within the Novue Rosse. Last thing Roslyn recalled was taking a rest against the rail and… Silently, the girl cursed herself. She had fallen asleep on the deck. Embarrassment reddened her cheeks as she heard a muffled voice through the door. “Cepten, aur yoo eweke? Messeenger fraum te acedemy seys t’eres au letter for yoo.” Roslyn covered her face for a moment. Her skin was clammy with sweat and made her dress cling to her. Silence stretched on while she collected herself. It immediately prompted concern from Nahanyel. “Roslyn?” [color=cbc66d]“I’m all right.”[/color] She said quicker than she intended as the lie flowed from her lips. It was too smooth and effortless for her liking. [color=cbc66d]“I’ll be out soon. Thank you.“[/color] She listened to the sailor's hesitation before his footsteps turned and faded down the corridor. Her legs pulled up against her body, her head pressing her temple into her knees. Listening to her heart gradually return to a steady beat, she considered the meaning behind the latest nightmare. Something deep inside felt wrong. It had for some time. She didn't understand what, but she had no time to figure it out. Not if she wanted to keep herself from drowning in stress. Shoving her anxiety to the side, Roslyn twisted her legs over the bedside and pushed onto her feet. Nahanyel had mentioned a letter from the school which gave her some hope. Taking a swig from a beer bottle set nearby, she steeled her nerves and shoved it back into the drawer. Stepping out on deck, she raised her hand to her brow. Squinting her eyes, she spotted Eike leaning over the bow. The giant of a man seemed locked in an argument with someone on the docks. A young voice rang out with mockery and teasing as the two exchanged words. "Cha, I know you yanii tend to look the same... but you don't look like a labii'suunei to me. You are nearly as tall as the halan'ax back home." His arms stretched up as if to emphasize his point. Wedged between the right hand's first two fingers was a letter with her name written clearly on it. The speaker looked to be no older than fifteen as he smiled cheekily at the titan. Eike took a heavy breath. She knew from experience, he hated to speak in Avincian because of his limitation with it. Within Ersand'Enise it was impossible to avoid. "Nei, open your ears, gutten. I say: I take it to her. Now give it and stop your joke around." His fingers twitched as he tried to kinetically pull it from the yasoi's grasp. The boy's fingers tightened his grip and jerked it behind his back, determined to keep it. He wiggled his other hand's finger at Eike. "Tsk, tsk. Dii, suugan'soi. Can't have Professor Tarthas'talix'tuura get mad at me. This letter is for Roslyn Wicke's eyes only. Now where is she?" He flashed a cheeky smile as he leaned over the dock's edge, taunting the giant by being just out of reach. He was enjoying pushing the yanii's patience. Roslyn saw where this was going and with a soft sigh, she pushed in beside Eike. Ignoring her second mate's moodiness as she shouted down. [color=cbc66d]“I'm here and I’ll be right down.“[/color] “Knew if we made enough noise, she'd come around. You're slower than a siiloang. I'll come to you.” The boy commented as he stepped back a few yards back before rushing forward. His feet hit the edge and sprung off, flipping onto the deck's railing with ease. His body tilted forward then back until his balance settled. With a exaggerated gesture, he offered her the letter. "There you are." Roslyn timidly took it from his grip, noting his eyes rapidly scanning her ship. Once her letter left his grasp, the boy pivoted on his right heel and stepped off into the air. It was like he stepped on an invisible platform back to the dock. [color=#cbc66d]"Odd one, he was." [/color] Roslyn murmured, examining the outside of the letter. [i]Rude too.[/i] She added as she headed back to her cabin to open and read it. [/hider][h2]Through the Swirling Snows [/h2][hider=**] [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zR-6uWylKUU[/youtube] Deep within the heart of East Kerremand, on the banks of the River Alther, lies the Towne of Lindenholdt. Once upon a time, it was home to the great St. Adelhied, who laid down her very life to save the country from the Grand Demon Iptacht. It was said that she turned to stone in the effort and lies, still, at the bottom of the river, to return at some future time of dire need. But Lindenholdt was already considered olde in those days. Once, upon a time, as one of the first places to embrace the Quentic faith, it was the final resting place of St. Hildr, the Red. It is said that she died there, in an inn, en route to Lindermetz, in her seventy-ninth year. But Lindenholdt was already considered olde in those days. Once, upon a time, before its fall to Drudgunzean invaders, it was an Avincian colonia, complete with handsome public spaces, bath houses, and a circus. Even in those days, it was well known for the quality of its cloth. But Lindenholdt was already considered olde in those days. Once, upon a time, back in the days before men wrote things, it was home to the Caeremii. They cleared the forests on the banks of the River Althus and built a simple mill. They tilled the fields and worshipped their heathen gods in their sacred grove. But Lindenholdt was already considered olde even in those days. Once, upon a time, in days of yore so ancient as to be lost to legend and, in turn, to myth, it is held that another people called the Linden Valley home. Tricksters, faeries, mimicks, elves, goblins: they have been tagged, variously, by many different names. What is certain is that they were magicians. Tales of the woods, dark and tangled, where they run up against the orchards and pastures that ring the burgeoning market towne, persist to this day. There are more than big bad wolves there. There be [i]dragons[/i]... but, still, that is not [i]all[/i]... - Foreword of *Volksmärchen der östlichen Wälder* (Folktales of the eastern Forests), by Siegfried Hofler von Karlberg-Alther [hr] [youtube]https://youtu.be/eBOl-JipSEw?si=Cyt9A9xYwMJ2XDIL&t=432[/youtube] It was the thirtieth of Zalest, and the promised Caldores snows fell softly upon the empty fields and stoic pines of the Althern countryside. The horses' hooves squelched in the mud and their reins clattered and swayed as the coach made its way from the village of Altherbruck. It would be better for them to be seen arriving, Zeno Tarthas had explained, and so the seven students had been given a generous stipend and told to book a coach from the nearby farming settlement. Peering through the blinds, Marceline, the closest thing that they had to a local guide, watched the road wind and undulate through the trees and fields as they overtook an improvised covered wagon heavily laden with bales of cloth. The town of Lindenholdt, which she had vague memories of visiting as a young girl, hove into view, its handsome townhouses, market squares, and guild halls clustered along the banks of the partially frozen Alther. Dozens of thin grey-white streams of chimney smoke disappeared into the grey sky and roofs, dusted with snow, stretched along the winding valley. In the distance, but impossible to miss, rose the hulking form of the new Dom St. Adelheid, nearly complete but seeming, somehow, further than it was. Cranking down the window, the young tethered leaned out and addressed the coachman in Kerreman. [abbr=How long until we reach the von Mollern estate?][color=598527]"Wie lange dauert es noch, bis wir das Anwesen der Von Mollern erreichen?"[/color][/abbr] He replied in the same tongue and she twisted back to translate for the others, none of whom were fluent in the language, save Dorothea. [color=598527]"Ten more minutes, he says."[/color] For a moment longer, the chill breeze whistled through the carriage before the shutter went up and they were, once again, protected from it. [color=598527]"The town sprawls in the other direction, but is fairly compact here, because of the mountains."[/color] It was mere moments before the window was cranked open once more and they beheld their destination through the swirling snows. [color=598527]"Any final preparations,"[/color] Marci advised, [color=598527]"I'd make them now."[/color] *Would it all be worth it in the end? * Evander gently swayed inside the cramped coach, his body buffeted between the frigid door and the cabin full of hot-headed women. Sleep had evaded him, but somewhere along the journey, he had grown accustomed to the dull edge of exhaustion. It focused his attention, making him acutely aware of the small things around him, like the muffled squeal of damp leather as his glove creased, or the subtle weight of the letter tucked into his coat pocket. His thumb tapped it absently, while his mind filled with questions. *Why here, Lindenholdt, a backwater town, receiving this level of attention?* *Who are the von Mollerns?* *What were the von Mollerns going to reveal, better yet, what was Lindenholdt about to reveal?* As a descendant of Avince, Evander heard stories of Lindenholdt. He knew of its age and of its legends. He never paid too close attention to thoroughly discern between what was a work of fiction and what was real, but if the town was as old, if not older, than his ancestors, he knew there’d be secrets. So, he knew if they were here long enough investigating the disappearance of people, some of those secrets would no longer remain… secrets. Before Evander could pursue the next question forming in his mind, Marci rolled down the window, trading what little warmth remained in the cabin for a sharp bite of winter air. He winced slightly as the cold cut through his coat and listened to the curt exchange in Kerreman between her and the coachman. *What an ugly language,* he thought while heating himself back up with his gift. “Ten more minutes,” Marci translated flatly. Evander let his gaze drift back to his own window. Snow danced in delicate spirals just beyond the glass. The grey spires of Lindenholdt crested into view, gradually emerging like memories made stone. The cathedral stood further still, massive. Marci’s voice cut in again. “Any final preparations, I’d make them now.” Evander turned toward her, a faint glint in his eye. “Should I be preparing for another one of your pranks,” he said, half-serious, half-amused, “or are you planning to behave this time?” Roslyn had been fairly quiet during the trip. Her mind seemed elsewhere as the coach's movements bounced her in place, her hands resting in her lap. She idly twisted the worn, simple ring about her left middle finger. Her eyes caught small glimpses of snow occasionally. It reminded her of home. She exhaled a breath, the warm faded into the frosty air shortly after. Her memories tightened the guilt and homesickness in her chest. Deep down, she had chosen this over going home for the holidays. Was she just running from the issues she couldn't solve? The cold nipped her nose causing the young girl to shiver. She pulled her coat tighter and tried to shrink down into the seat. Instinctively, she pulled her scarf higher on her lower face. It was enough to rip her from her thoughts. Ignoring Evander's comment toward Marci, Roslyn spoke up. [color=cbc66d] "I imagine we'll just get a lot of cold stares, and people avoiding us. Nothing too bad, I hope." [/color] [i]Or gossiping behind our backs.[/i] she added silently. Despite her hope, she hadn't come unprepared for more threatening possibilities. Better safe than sorry. [color=598527]"All depends on how [i]you[/i] behave, I suppose,"[/color] she replied with the same mixture of seriousness and teasing. Then, Roslyn cut in, attempting to defuse anything before it could start, as was her custom. She didn't need to. While Evander was far from her first choice to share an assignment with, he and Marceline had reached something of an arrangement following their misadventure in the islands. She shrugged. [color=598527]"It's Caldores, Rosy."[/color] The snow fell in fat flakes and, inside of the town, one could already sense the bustle. [color=598527]"People make an effort to be nice."[/color] She pressed her forehead to the glass, steaming it with her breath as she spoke. [color=598527]"That's how you tell which ones we should be suspicious of: they're either those who don't or those who are a bit [i]too[/i] friendly."[/color] Just how serious she was remained anyone's guess. The town loomed closer, now: picturesque and pretty under the early Somnes snow. Houses with gardens lying fallow for the cold months clustered together, along with a small inn, stables, and a couple of shops. The River came back into view, nearly - but not quite - frozen. In the near distance, atop a small hill, she could see a handsome large house surrounded by gardens and high fences. [color=598527]"That, right there: that's our destination."[/color] She rapped on the glass before turning away to check her pack. [h2]Sitting outside on the Coach[/h2] [color=7b6c64][i]You have never been a member of the Century Corps. You are Marco Terranova, a third year Biro at Ersand’Enise Academy of Thaumaturgy. After finishing his military service in the officer corps, your father retired as a wealthy landowner, and until your gift awakened you were a cadet at the royal naval academy. Your hobbies are…”[/i][/color] Marco stared blankly at the horizon as he passed a cigarette between himself and the coachman. It was uncomfortably hot inside the carriage, and he needed a quiet space to hear his own thoughts, so he was riding shotgun. He was mentally rehearsing the cover story given to him by his superiors in the Century, just as he had done every day for the past three years since becoming an initiate. It was one of the many conditions of his special assignment, along with attending regular classes and club activities, and for the longest time Marco had never understood why he needed to play house with a bunch of kids just to protect them. But as he grew wiser he became aware that many people were just inherently untrusting of others. Untrusting of authority. Untrusting of the church. Furthermore, there were threats among the student body that did not like to be watched. If he presented himself as a Zeno or a Century, those threats would remain hidden and on guard until Marco himself was at his most vulnerable. For the success of the mission, this pseudo-anonymity was a necessary precaution. Unfortunately, things were even more complicated now that he had thrown his lot in with certain criminal elements. Marco had another secret identity to protect now, an identity which was associated with almost all of the equipment and artifacts he personally owned. Everything from his helmet to his sword could be used as a clue to single him out as a Volti agent. The Century was in plain clothes today, protected from the cold by a long sleeved shirt, a fur lined vest, and a buttoned brown overcoat. The only sign he was a Quentic at all was the brass hourglass hanging from his neck. For Marco, being stripped of his weapons and armor was almost the same as being naked, but this wouldn’t be the first or the last time and so he simply had to accept it. At the very least, he could deal with anything short of an entire army with his magic alone. Other than its recent troubles Lindenholt was supposed to be a rather peaceful town. There [i]shouldn’t[/i] be any imminent danger to the other biros. The window opened and Marceline started talking to the driver, who promptly passed the roach back to Marco. He took the last drag while listening to the two speak, although it did him little good since he didn’t speak a lick of Kerreman. It didn’t really bother him. He had been using kinesis to eavesdrop on the passengers since they departed, and although the sounds of conversation were muffled inside of the carriage, Marco could hear every word. There was no reason to feel bad about it as long as what was being said was public knowledge, or so he reasoned with himself. They would have said it whether he was sitting there with them or not. Marco unconsciously rubbed his fists against his eyes as they came into view of a house on a hill. His throat yearned for the taste of a strong coffee. The war in Palapar had caused his memories from the future to entrench themselves more strongly, and he was starting to have nightmares again. They weren’t as vivid or as immersive as they were in his 30s, but the loss of sleep was unpleasant all the same. He secretly hoped he wouldn’t have to spend a night sharing a room with anybody. [hr] Ingrid had spent the time leaning against the side of the cabin, the cold keeping her awake on this lazy trip. She still carried her broken watch but after nearly being hung by everyone, she silenced it. Her little way of keeping present lost, she turned to the window to make stories of ice and snow at the far edges of the road. She had read many stories of this land, from the fanciful tales for children to researched pieces on its immense age, mostly the former. Right now she made tricksters and fairies float around for her own amusement. Ingrid was not one to dress lightly, her 'dress' made sure of that, striking her in a puffy black fur jacker and pristine white scarf. Her armaments never truly left her side, lest there be an incident where she needed them. Simple trips had a way of turning violent when she was around, though Ingrid suspects that is just karma for playing pranks on Penny at some point. Her weapons were not so obvious to be a blade, so she had some hopes they may pass through without much attention. Conversation seemed to arise and Ingrid dropped her story to join in, [color=8882be]"I will be pranking one of you here, you have my word."[/color] she addressed everyone in the coach. She gave no thoughts if she would be seen as suspicious or not, for it was a given with someone of her size and origin. Adjusting her coat, making sure it was clasped tightly to her person, she waited for Marceline to go through her pack, tempted to take a peak but decided against it. [color=8882be]"Do you know much of the people that live on that hill?"[/color] she asked when Marci seemingly had a moment. [color=#cbc66d]"That's true." [/color] Roslyn said as she watched the frosty designs form on the glass's edges. She leaned in to see their destination. [color=#cbc66d]"It looks cozy."[/color]A smile broke out on her face at the sight. [color=#cbc66d] "I am a bit excited to see the Caldores traditions here. And how different it is compared to Hendland." [/color] At Ingrid's 'threat' Roslyn arched an eyebrow in challenge. Her eyes fixed on the Eskandish woman with a confident look. [color=#cbc66d] "Careful, Ingrid. Growing up around my brother, I have a habit of repaying such antics. Just try not to get the townsfolk involved accidently." [/color] What wonderful chatter among the students, usually Dorothea would join the conversation, perhaps even bragging about her know of the place. Yet, for whatever reason, the girl seemed rather pensive. All of her comforting items were not around her person. No booze, no rifle, not even that crown she always wore. The only thing she wore that was recognizable by anyone was her pelt cloak. People who had still known her from the days of the first year's trials might even notice that her entire getup was nearly identical to back in those times. She clung to the other side of the cabin, avoiding any and all eye contact that the group would make with her. Was her current demeanour caused by whispers of the church getting involved again, or might it be something else? Xiuyang sat comfortably in the exact middle of the carriage. Wrapped in her inferno blanket, she was a heat generator for the maidens who were spared the outside seats. Her hat perched at an angle covering her eyes, she snoozed away while a sanguinaire and a dark magic user sat on one side, and two powerful agents of the church sat on another. Yet, she was cozy as could be. She tipped her hat up, only stirring awake as the other ladies began to chatter. [color=slateblue]"How do people [i]live[/i] here..?"[/color] She mumbled and yawned. [/hider][h2]Ankunft [/h2][hider=***] [color=598527]"With warm coats, warm drinks, and plenty of firewood,"[/color] Marceline replied, finished with her bag and snuggled back into Xiuyang's side where she'd spent most of their hour-long trip. They were rounding a final bend and there was an unmistakable change in the sound of the horses' hooves: stone. The mud faded and the snow swirled, the animals' breath steaming from their nostrils with greater vigor as the coach began its final ascent. Absently, the tethered took a moment to try to loosen up her arms in preparation for the hilly terrain. She'd left Ingrid's question unaddressed as yet, however, but Roslyn provided the perfect opportunity. [color=598527]"You and I must have very different ideas of 'cozy', Rosy. Ooh-la-laah."[/color] She let out a low whistle and cracked a wry smile. [color=598527]"The von Mollerns are an old family - clothiers and wool merchants who became fabulously wealthy before branching into banking. Some eighty years ago, one of their sons saved Queen Silke's great-grandfather - Heinrich IV - in battle and they were ennobled as barons of Linden-Althern."[/color] She shrugged, rolling her wrists and neck in preparation for wheeling over less-than-ideal terrain. [color=598527]"I don't know them personally,"[/color] she admitted to Ingrid, [color=598527]"though they like to maintain a reputation for being accessible and pragmatic."[/color] The coach began to slow as they approached the great wrought-iron gate to the estate. While impressive, Roslyn's earlier assessment had not been entirely inaccurate. It [i]was[/i] somewhat humbler than those of most other nobles. That spoke to a certain understanding of optics and their own particular brand, Marceline decided. [color=598527]"Oh,"[/color] she added, after conducting a quick scan of the coach for their bags and her wheelchair. [color=598527]"They aren't lords of Lindenholdt, for what it's worth. This is a free market town by charter, currently the twelfth-largest in the country - its Burgmeister outside of the Queen's council for want of a bishopric."[/color] She glanced out the window as the coachman pulled back on the reins in earnest, now. [color=598527]"That's what many think [i]that[/i] is for."[/color] She gestured vaguely in the nearly-completed cathedral's direction. [color=598527]"The von Mollerns are ambitious - both for themselves and for their town. They maintain their membership in the clothiers', weavers', tailors', and dyers' guilds and, through those, control over the position of Burgmeister."[/color] Presently, through the snow, came a young man hustling up to the tiny gatehouse in hastily-applied winter gear. [color=#90EE90]"Entschuldigung für das Warten!"[/color] he called out, slowing and extracting a large keyring from around his belt. [color=#ADD8E6]"Es ist egal."[/color] came the reply. [color=#ADD8E6]"Wir sind doch nicht zu spät, oder?"[/color] [color=#90EE90]"Nein,"[/color] said the gatekeeper, fiddling with the lock, though one suspected he was really a footman, temporarily repurposed. [color=#90EE90]"Der Freiherr war sowieso nur in einer Besprechung.[/color] [color=#ADD8E6]"Ah, Glück für mich."[/color] It was more words than they had heard the generally taciturn man speak the entire time. [color=#ADD8E6]"Das Wetter war furchtbar."[/color] He paused. [color=#90EE90]"Nun, Sie können auf einen Kaffee hereinkommen und sich aufwärmen."[/color] The gate swung open and they were ushered through. [color=598527]"They're just talking about the weather and being on time and the Baron was apparently in a meeting,"[/color] Marci translated, eyes flicking Dory's way. [color=598527]"They'll have coffee for us."[/color] As if on cue, one of the large double doors at the front opened and a handful of servants fanned out, some holding trays. . [color=#ADD8E6]"Ist da jemand Wichtiges drin?"[/color] the coachman asked hopefully, shooting a small, apologetic smile Marco's way for speaking beside him at length in an exchange the youth could not understand. They had come to a stop and two footmen had rushed around to the chests at the back and roof while a third had seen to opening the carriage door. [color=#90EE90]"Ach, das ist nur der Steinbauer-Junge, der Jüngere. Du weißt ja, wie die Steinbauer sind."[/color] A couple of the others, who'd become accustomed to Marci's translations, glanced expectantly the tethered girl's way, even as she was keeping an eye on her wheelchair being unloaded. She froze, doubting what she'd heard for a moment, but the sudden interest that Dorothea had shown - much in contrast to her body language for the rest of the trip - confirmed it. [color=598527]"Johann,"[/color] she said in a quiet, surprised voice, calling upon the Gift to help her out of the carriage door. She settled herself into her wheelchair and nodded a thanks to the footman who had helped her. [color=598527]"Johann is visiting."[/color] [color=slateblue]"Mmph. You had me at warm. Sign me up,"[/color] Xiuyang replied with a big stretch. More exaggerated stretches ensued as she exited the carriage. [color=slateblue]"It's hard work being a pillow,"[/color] she quipped with a strained voice as she listened to the sound of a language she had little knowledge of. [color=slateblue]"Johann, huh? Cool."[/color] [color=#cbc66d] "To be honest, I couldn't figure out a better word. We will see soon if it fits or not." [/color] Roslyn commented, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue. Appearances could be deceiving as she had started to learn. She listened to Marci continue on to explain things. Some she knew and others she didn't, showing the library research wasn't enough alone. At the mention of Johann being here, she realized how little she knew of the friendly giant. [color=#cbc66d]"Could he be here for some business or family?" [/color] She guessed then shrugged any further guesses while she waited for the others to exit. [color=8882be]"Coffee is nice,"[/color] Ingrid commented as she stepped out of the cart. She seemed to perk up at Johann's name, [color=8882be]"Seemed Reshta has blessed us with great company."[/color] She was delighted with Johann's appearance. [color=598527]"Mmm, I [i]do[/i] wonder,"[/color] Marceline admitted, unlocking her brakes and falling in beside Xiuyang as snowflakes began to speckle her hair. [color=598527]"Perhaps he would be better suited to the job,"[/color] she joked guiltily, leaning in with a subtle devilish grin. [color=slateblue]"[i]Marci![/i]"[/color] Xiuyang feigned offense, covering her mouth in an uncharacteristically ladylike gesture. She helped herself to the coffee and took in the festive sights. The manor house, meanwhile, was decked out in garlands and there was a wreath on the door with a pentact in the middle. The under-butler bowed crisply before his employer's noble guests. Two maids held two trays: one with coffee and the other with hot cider; one with intricately-decorated springerle and the other with a surprisingly quaint skillet of bratapfel. Nobody had to worry about their baggage, of course, for there were ample hands to take these for them. The cases did not go, however, into the manor. Rather, all but the ladies' lap bags were hustled over to a storage house. Out by the stables, a lingering Ingrid, Xiuyang, and Marceline noticed a second set of servants bustling about with some urgency, preparing horses and a wagon, their breath rising, steamy, into the snow. Then, the latter found herself distracted as a couple more footmen hurried over with a wooden ramp for her - a wholly unnecessary gesture, but not one declined, either. For a moment, Ingrid thought that she could hear shouting in the distance. Then, the group was ushered inside and their coats taken and there was no further opportunity to investigate what just as well might've been a drunk reveler outside of the property, rowdy teens, howling dogs, or a trick of the wind. The inside of Von Mollern Manor was large, but it exuded a certain warmth. Tapestries hung on the wall and rich rugs adorned the hardwood floors. Past family members peered out at their descendants and guests alike from within their framed portraits. A great chandelier hung from the atrium ceiling and sconces lined the walls, not yet lit for the continued presence of natural daylight. Before them rose a wide curving staircase with an olivine runner and floral motif. [color=#808000]"Lords and ladies,"[/color] the under-butler addressed them in a thick but not overwhelming accent, as the door closed behind, [color=#808000]"it is my honour to welcome you to the haus of von Mollern."[/color] He pivoted ninety degrees to gesture them down the hallway beside the steps. [color=#808000]"I am Klaus -"[/color] He gestured at a maid. [color=#808000]"- and this is Ina."[/color] She curtsied. [color=#808000]"We will be at your service should you require anything."[/color] His shoes sounded on the floor as he led them. [color=#808000]"His lordship was just finishing up with another guest - a neighbour, of sorts, you understand - so we'll be headed to the parlour, where Fraulein Margarete is practicing with a friend and some refreshments have been prepared."[/color] They had nearly arrived - they could hear the sounds of laughter and a viola and harpsichord duet playing - when a door opened and, from it, emerged a rather rosy-cheeked Johann Steinbauer. The portly youth's eyes widened at the sight of his classmates from the academy. [color=goldenrod]"Mein Götter!"[/color] he exclaimed, instantly breaking into a smile. [color=goldenrod]"There are..."[/color] he trailed off momentarily, as he conducted a brief headcount. [color=goldenrod]"Seven of you!"[/color] He bowed before Dory, a ruling head of state. [color=goldenrod]"Including your highness."[/color] With a bow of his own, Klaus brushed past and into the room and there was a brief exchange in Kerreman between him and a stentorian voice inside. [color=goldenrod]"I imagine you are here to get mixed up in it at the school's behest?"[/color] Johann remarked almost... tiredly as they waited. Xiuyang smiled and waved at Johann, unsurprised to see him. [color=slateblue]"You know it."[/color] She answered his query without weariness or bitterness—an advantage, perhaps, of someone who'd just arrived on-scene. Still, she seemed noticeably happier than she did the last time anyone had seen her. [color=8882be]"You are correct, we were contacted by the school to help with some delays."[/color] Ingrid answered Johann, a hot cider in hand. [color=slateblue]"We certainly understand,"[/color] she offered courteously to Klaus, finishing up her coffee. [color=slateblue]"It is the season to be busy."[/color] Roslyn had been distracted by the festive décor and small bustle. Holidays were often busy affairs in any household, noble or not. She had plucked a hot cider from the tray, the bratapfel floated on top. A small thank you was spoken as she sipped it. It was sweet, spicy and warm enough to chase away the chill. Some weather, she thought, was better spent inside rather than out. They continued inside until they met with Johann. He was the ever cheerful presence she remembered. When he bowed toward Dory, Roslyn cast a glance in her direction. She didn't dwell on her thoughts when she turned back to Johann. [color=#cbc66d] "It's nice to see a familiar face, even if it's unexpected." [/color] Johann grimaced, leaning in towards the three girls, and lowered his voice until it wasn't much more than a murmur. [color=goldenrod]"Unexpected but far from unwelcome. However, matters are... messier here than they appear on the surface. I was originally only in attendance for a customary Caldores visit with my family's nearest neighbours."[/color] Then, Klaus was back. Was there a hint of a knowing, grateful sigh in response to Xiuyang? In any case, he nodded. [color=#808000]"Just so, my lady."[/color] With that, he ushered them inside. Roslyn set down the empty cup, speaking first to Klaus, [color=#cbc66d]"It wouldn't be Caldores without a bit of confusion." [/color] With a deep breath, she braced against her nervous energy and followed the others. [color=#cbc66d] "Time to get started with this." [/color] The desk that awaited was large and oaken, and the man behind it not dissimilar in bearing, with his stern patriarchal face, bristly mustache, and silver hair shot through with streaks of deep brown. Then, however, he surprised at least a few of them. [color=#3CB371]"Ah, welcome,"[/color] he said in Avincian, with a forward lack of formality. When meeting the master of the house, Xiuyang greeted him with the sign of Oraff accompanied by a low bow, as she always did. He stood and spread his arms, gesturing for them to shuffle in. [color=#3CB371]"Please, no need for overformality. Ipten knows I have enough of that every day. Come in and find a place."[/color] He waited until all were inside before closing the door with a flick of his wrist and some telekinesis. [color=#3CB371]"I apologize if I did not set quite enough chairs out,"[/color] he remarked, [color=#3CB371]"but we shall not be long, I imagine, and I see at least one of you has been forward thinking and brought her own."[/color] He nodded, and there was a slight twinkle in his eye. [color=#3CB371]"Fritz von Mollern, patriarch - I suppose - of the house of von Mollern."[/color] He gestured at himself. [color=#3CD371]"Now -"[/color] He settled his elbows on the desktop and knitted his fingers together. [color=#3CB371]"Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"[/color] Marceline's eyes widened at the jape, not sure whether to be offended or amused. Her cheeks puffed out and she released a snort of laughter involuntarily. That appeared to give everyone else permission to react as they pleased. [color=598527]"Marceline Hohenfelter, of Meckelin-Thandau, who always plans ahead,"[/color] she inclined her head in respect. [color=slateblue]"Salomé Solari. Friends call me Xiuyang,"[/color] she added, taking his informal demeanor in stride. His joke received a warm smile. A small chuckle almost escaped her but she held it back, [color=8882be]"Ingrid Penderson, here as Biro of Ersand'Enise,"[/color] giving a polite nod to the man. Dorothea stared rather blankly upon the introduction of the nobleman. With a sigh, the woman presented herself. [color=86608E]"I suppose my status makes me obligated to be a little formal."[/color] She cleared her throat. [color=86608E]"Dorothea Hohnstein. Duchess of Feska and Matriarch of the Danzau branch under the Albesatz name."[/color] There was no bow. [color=86608E]"But please don't feel the need to use the full formalities when addressing me, I am just a guest."[/color] Marco toasted the head of the household with a cup of coffee in each hand, both of which were already more than half empty. [color=7b6c64]“Marco Terranova. No titles for me. I’m just a somewhat skilled brat the academy saw fit to round out the numbers.”[/color] Roslyn's hesitation melted and her stiff posture relaxed. She joined in with the others after a few introductions. [color=#cbc66d] "Roslyn Wicke from Hendland." [/color] Fritz stood, nonetheless, and offered a slight bow. [color=#3CB371]"Honoured,"[/color] he responded, [color=#3CB371]"truly. Your highness wears ermine with grace and without pretense."[/color] His smile arched his great mustache. [color=#3CB371]"That is truly a gift."[/color] [color=#3CB371]"Ah, and a lover of coffee."[/color] He raised a cup that had been sitting on his desk in return, but did not take a sip, for it had long gone cold. [color=#3CB371]"I have heard much about the business you have selling it at the City of the Bells. Owned by students, I believe?"[/color] Marceline's eyes warned the others, quickly, not to say a word. Presently, as Roslyn and Evander finished their introductions, the baron took that as his cue. [color=#3CB371]"Where to begin, then?"[/color] He unthreaded his fingers and clapped his hands together, businesslike. [color=#3CB371]"Well, it is heartening to see that I am working with young people of such character. Johann, here, was just recommending some of you, for what it was worth. Now..."[/color] He trailed off, his demeanour taking a more serious and pensive turn. [color=#3CB371]"Onto business, I suppose."[/color] Baron von Mollern nodded slowly. [color=#3CB371]"We are a growing town here in Lindenholdt. Ina will take you out, soon, and show you as much."[/color] He gestured vaguely at the door as snow continued to swirl whimsically through the window behind him. There appeared to be a particularly large and well-kept garden, though most of its greenery was out of season. [color=#3CB371]"I shall spare you the history lesson. You have your books for that,"[/color] he snorted. [color=#3CB371]"Suffice to say that we received a bequest to build a cathedral and have been making excellent progress. I will say nothing of how the construction has been, for I build businesses, not cities."[/color] He pressed his palms together and rested his chin atop them. In the fireplace, embers glowed. On the wall, a cuckoo clock waited for its moment. [color=#3CB371]"There have been some mistakes. Men have been injured. Some have quite. Some have gone missing."[/color] His eyes found Ingrid. [color=#3CB371]"I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Fraulein Penderson, but we all keenly feel the approach of the war, and many are eager to finish this great work while we feel we still can, before your nation and mine come to blows."[/color] He lifted his head from his fingertips and shook it. [color=#3CB371]"I trust you all understand my meaning. Nothing in this world is perfect, and so even imperfect things can be wonderful; they [i]must[/i] be."[/color] His chin took its place again. A log crackled. A cardinal landed on a leafless tree. [color=#3CB371]"Two men have gone missing. They were not happy with the work conditions, apparently. Construction has been shut down pending an investigation."[/color] He shook his head and twisted to glance out the window at the wintry scene beyond. [color=#3CB371]"Poor fellows. We're going to help their families out, of course, but they need closure, as well; all of Lindenholdt does. We need to complete our great work just as badly. Rumours grow thick and fast in a growing town. You are outsiders - even young lord Steinbauer - and people will trust your judgement to be uncompromised, I believe."[/color] He straightened and regarded them each in turn. [color=#3CB371]"Might I suppose you understand your purpose here?"[/color] he inquired. [color=#3CB371]"Should you have any questions, I have a few minutes, still, before my day full of pre-Caldores meetings continues."[/color] He smiled ruefully and took a sip of his cold coffee anyhow, scowling at the taste of it. [color=#cbc66d]"When was it first noticed the men were missing?" [/color] Roslyn brimmed with questions, but she held them back. Better to give them one by one than overwhelm the man before her. Baron von Mollern considered for a moment. [color=#3CB371]"Do not quote me on this - my nephew Karl is wachtmeister and would know more - but I believe it has been four days now. Construction has been shut down for the last two."[/color] He shook his head and glanced at his coffee, but thought better of taking a sip. Evander had remained quiet through most of the introductions, standing near the fireplace with one hand resting lightly on the back of an unclaimed chair. When it came his turn, he simply said, "Evander Synesti. Hereby invitation." His voice was even. He listened intently as Baron von Mollern laid out the situation. When the *missing* came up, Evander's eyes flicked momentarily to Marci, then to the others: Ingrid, Roslyn, Xiuyang. He stepped forward slightly as the question from Roslyn hung in the air. "You say the men were unhappy," Evander pointed out calmly. "Did they make complaints? Speak to supervisors? Write anything down? Something had to reach someone before they vanished." The aim was to move closer to the truth, "If we're to be seen as impartial, we'll need to know who isn't." He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "And if they've simply run off... There are usually patterns in how that's done, too." He met Fritz von Mollern's gaze without flinching, giving the man a rare, razor-thin smile. "We'd like to begin with facts before the stories finish writing themselves." Xiuyang reached out with the Gift and reheated the Baron's coffee. [color=slateblue]"Pardon me,"[/color] she hastily apologized. Her eyes flicked to meet Evander's for only a brief instant, as if she somehow knew by instinct that he was watching her. [color=slateblue]"My classmate here is a bit abrasive, but we're of a similar mind. I'd like to consider the men's disappearances from any realistic angle we can. With urgency."[/color] Marco observed the terse conversation quietly and brought a coffee to his lips for another delicious sip. Wait, it was all gone already? He stared at the bottom of the cup longingly, like a very sad puppy. Fritz arched an eyebrow and let out a bark of laughter. [color=#3CB371]"Ah, and I see you've brought your bedside manner, too. Very good."[/color] Waving Xiuyang's apology away good-naturedly, he gestured towards the door. [color=#3CB371]"Realistically, Karl is the one you'd need to speak to."[/color] He nodded and lifted the coffee to his lips, tasting it with a look of pleasant surprise. [color=#3CB371]"Your collective enthusiasm recommends you even more strongly for this task. All are worthy questions."[/color] Just then, as the hour hand reached the top of the clock, the cuckoo popped out of its hole with such sheer whimsical violence as to startle the head of the von Mollern household and send the cardinal who had been perched outside of their window fluttering away. [color=#3CB371]"I likely have mere moments before I am called to other business. Now, any final concerns, or do we have some understanding?"[/color] Johann raised a hand and his voice in sheepish questioning. [color=goldenrod]"Ah, yes, Onkel Fritz -"[/color] [color=#3CB371]"Don't call me 'onkel', Johann. I'm not your onkel."[/color] [color=goldenrod]"Oh, heh, sorry about that, Baron von Mollern."[/color] The youth scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. [color=goldenrod]"Anyway, how are we to get there?"[/color] Fritz von Mollern rose, flicking the door open with his Gift. [color=#3CB371]"The snow seems to be dying down, so I've had Ina prepare a walking tour for you, to help familiarize the others with Lindenholdt. The town isn't all that large, and your bags are being delivered to Die Tanzstiefel: the inn where you'll be staying. They'll await your return."[/color] Johann managed a slight groan and Marceline's eyes flicked his way. He quieted almost immediately. [color=#3CB371]"Very good, then!"[/color] Fritz clapped his hands together and found Ina waiting on the other side of the door, already dressed in her winter coat. [color=#98FB98]"If any of you require extra layers, you may help yourselves by the doorway, free of cost."[/color] She bowed her head differently and gestured in that direction.[/hider] [h2]Snowball fight[/h2][hider=****] As Roslyn walked beside Ingrid, she heard the distinct thwap of a snowball smack into the back of the woman’s neck. The snow ball broke and slipped down and into her coat. Immediately, the Eskandish woman stopped and scooped up a pile of snow. She patted it into a tight ball before she twisted about and tossed it. Marceline let out a yelp as the snowball took her square in the chest, driving her backwards. For a moment, she had three melons. Seeming not done, Ingrid began to ball more snow. [color=598527]"Zicke!"[/color] Marceline shouted. [color=598527]"You're dead!"[/color] Meanwhile, Roslyn stepped back and collected one of her own. She snapped it at the taller woman’s back. As if sensing the assault, Ingrid easily darted to the right. The snowball landed several feet behind her into a bank. [color=cbc66d]"Quick for your size..."[/color] Roslyn teased. [color=598527]"Oooooh *snap,*"[/color] exclaimed Marceline. From her side, Xiuyang tossed her own snowball and watched it smack shy of the wheels. Ingrid reliated at the hendlish fiend. [color=8882be]"A good throw for a snow mouse" [/color]and then threw a snowball back at Roslyn. Marci, meanwhile, made more snowballs. The mousy girl squeaked as she ran right. Too slow. The snow grazed her shoulder before it dropped to the ground. Dusting it off, she opened for a retort when she spotted johann. The giant of a man pulled back his arm and belted one right at her. She dove and rolled back onto her feet, all in one smooth motion. [color=cbc66d]"Nice try Johann."[/color] [color=8882be]"The men have joined! Make them suffer!"[/color] Ingrid shouted. [color=598527]"You'd hit a *cripple*!?"[/color] Marceline exclaimed. Ingrid chucked a melon of a snowball at Johann. Marci glared at Xiuyang. [color=598527]"Acceptable. I feel included."[/color] She shrugged. [color=slateblue]"I didn't throw very hard..."[/color] [color=598527]"I could tell,"[/color] Marceline teased. [color=598527]"Now, truce?"[/color] She sent her next one sailing at Johann, eager to hop on that bandwagon. [color=8882be]"It's snow! Throw it as hard as you can!"[/color] While the others were distracted, Roslyn rolled up another snowball. Marceline's snowball glanced off of Johann's shoulder, but that only set him up for Ingrid's… Johann tumbled back and began to roll, becoming the ultimate snowball. Ingrid went low to the floor, forming a boulder of a snowball. So unstable she may not be able to pick it up without it collapsing. But it would all be worth it to smash it into Evander. [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7YM9gAVeMs&list=RDQMaflG6Nd11HM&start_radio=1[/youtube] Marceline was a bowling pin in Johann's path. Her eyes widen, but she cannot into strafing. She wrenched her wheels to the side and... drifted on the city street, pushing off of the onrushing Johann with one hand and nearly crashing into Roslyn. Johann continued to roll. He rolled for six more meters before coming to rest against a lamppost, bending it in the process. Along his way he nearly crushed... Evander and Marco. The boys were turning on each other, it appeared, or maybe it had just been dumb luck. Roslyn squeaked as Marci nearly slammed into her. Then everything went white when a large snow boulder rolled over her, burying her in powdery snow. A few moments later, her head popped out. She shook the snow from her head, a giggle erupting from her. [color=cbc66d]"I'll give you creativity points for that one, Johann."[/color] [color=goldenrod]"It is totally accidental!"[/color] he hollered, coming to a rest, sore. Marceline scooped up some snow and chose violence. [color=598527]"Witness me, Iptacht!"[/color] Her throw had such heat that it clipped Roslyn in the nose, in profile, snapped her head around and ricocheted right into Xiuyang's stomach. The girl’s eyes widened at her friend's 'betrayal' as she wiped the snow from her eyes. Roslyn looked at her best friend. [color=cbc66d] “Let's get her."[/color] [color=598527]"One hundred percent accidental!"[/color] the tethered protested. [color=598527]"I did not betray our treaty!"[/color] Roslyn leaned down. [color=598527]"Central Alliance all the way!"[/color] The girl rolled up a snowball then flicked it at Marci. [color=598527]"I will die for your country, Xiuyang!"[/color] Roslyn's snowball took her right in the ear and Marceline screamed. [color=598527]"Help me, Obi-wan Solari! You're my only hope!"[/color] [color=slateblue]"Hmm. If I agree to your truce, what's in it for me?"[/color] Roslyn pouted a bit at Xiuyang. [color=cbc66d]"She started it."[/color] [color=598527]"The satisfaction of helping a friend in need!"[/color] Marci balled up a snowball and launched it at Roslyn. It took the Hendlishwoman right in the mouth. [color=598527]"See?"[/color] Marceline shouted. [color=598527]"I have silenced the enemy! Just for you, soon-nay!"[/color] Roslyn had just been getting back onto her feet when a snowball hit her in the jaw. It snapped her back as she struggled to stay upright. Using a bit of kinetic, she snapped up some snow into her hand and rolled it. [color=cbc66d]"I will never be silenced!"[/color] She tossed it back at her attacker. [color=598527]"Xiuuuuyaaannnng"[/color] Marceline wailed, as a snowball pelted off of her shoulder. [color=598527]"I am being slain before thy very eyes!"[/color] [color=cbc66d]"Serves you right."[/color] The hendlandish girl stuck out her tongue and rolled up another. [color=598527]"Hath thou no loyalty? No [i]soul[/i]!?"[/color] [color=cbc66d]"So says the one that broke it first."[/color] [color=598527]"Bruja!"[/color] Marci exclaimed. [color=598527]"Filthy lies! Why, I wouldn't trust a Hendlish to water my tomatoes, even if they were for her!"[/color] Marci spun rapidly on the spot, kicking up waves of snow in all directions. "Special technique: snow tornado!" The wave of snow splashed over Roslyn, not doing very much but disrupting her gathering of another snowball. She managed to keep her balance as the snow hit the helms of her skirt. The score of hits still favored Marci, but Roslyn didn't mind. She couldn't say the same about the hiss in the back of her head from a certain green Cazenax. Ignoring it and she reached down for another snowball, ensuring no rocks snuck their way in. "I'm going to even the score, Marci. Mark my words." Johann was back up. The big man stumbled to his feet, brushing himself off. Marceline made a dash to hide behind him, but the cobblestones were her enemy, and Marceline hit one, nearly fell out of her wheelchair, and ate one right to the cheek. Johann stood up, ready to throw. Roslyn tensed when she saw Marci nearly tumble sideways then right herself once more. A soft sneering cheer crept into the back of her mind, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. She didn't have much time to think when she saw the big guy grip another snowball in hand. Ingrid had been out of things for a bit. He decided to change that. Besides, she was the only target even close to as big as he was.[/hider][h2]Snowy Misfire[/h2] [Hider=*****] It was at right about that moment that the door to the constable's office opened. It was at right about that moment that a slick patch of ice caused Marceline to slide to the side. [color=598527]"Ohp! Ohp! Sorry, I'm going and I can't stop!"[/color] She slid right into Ingrid. [color=598527]"Heeellllp!"[/color] The snowball sailed right over the tethered girl's head. Yes, it did. It screamed along at full power, on past Ingrid, who had been shunted out of the way. It absolutely hammered the mustachioed man in a blue uniform who had opened the door. Roslyn's hands clamped over her mouth in horror. Johann's face was pale at the best of times. It was positively [i]ashen[/i] now. She held it together. [color=598527]"Er war es."[/color] She gestured towards Johann. [color=598527]"Es war ein Unfall!"[/color] The tall mustachioed man had nearly been knocked off of his feet. He stood in the doorway, frozen in place for a moment as some of the snow stuck to his face and some crumbled away. He blinked. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up to brush the rest from his face. Some clung to his mustache. After a second, his eyes slid downward, to the source to apologetic little voice. Marci swallowed. [color=598527]"Es tut uns sehr leid?"[/color] The man pursed his lips. His eyes went to Johann next, flicking Roslyn's way for a moment. He murmured something under his breath. "Kinder..." Roslyn felt a bit helpless as she listened to the exchange. When his eyes caught hers, she tilted her head down shamefully. The chubby youth remained frozen. [color=Goldenrod]"I... uh... Es war eine Schneeballschlacht," [/color]he squeaked, after some delay. "Kinder..." [color=598527]"Nur eine Schneeballschlacht... Es tut mir sehr leid!"[/color] "Eine Schneeballschlacht..." The man nodded slowly. [color=598527]"Schneeballschlacht."[/color] Marceline and Johann glanced at each other. [color=598527]"Wir..."[/color] Marci stumbled, [color=598527]"Wir waren einfach vom Spaß des Augenblicks mitgerissen!"[/color] "Der Spaß des Augenblicks?" [color=598527]"Ja."[/color] [color=goldenrod]"Ja."[/color] "Und diese hier: haben die keinen Mund?" he inquired. Roslyn looked to Marci, hoping she might translate for her. [color=cbc66d]"I was feeling a bit homesick. It cheered me up."[/color] Her statement saved them, momentarily. [color=Goldenrod]"Wie Sie sehen, sind sie Ausländer. Sie sprechen unsere Sprache nicht,"[/color] Johann explained. [color=598527]"Sie sagt, es hat sie aufgeheitert!"[/color] Marceline added. He stood there, perfectly stonefaced, and listened. The silence was louder than any words could've been. "Es hat sie aufgemuntert ..." the man mouthed. Xiuyang stood silent and just watched. She'd been doing that for a while, actually. She didn't understand much Kerremand, but she caught a few stray words and the pattern of conversation told her that the two were making excuses that didn't take. [color=slateblue]”Apologies. I couldn't bring myself to stop them."[/color] [color=Goldenrod]"Stoppen Sie sie..."[/color] The situation seemed just about as dire as it could get short of an arrest. Ingrid, an expert on apologies, was just about ready to step forward. Evander and Dory, some ways ahead of the group, had not yet been indicted with the others. Marco had picked up his first snowball mere moments before disaster had struck. He had quietly let it fall. "Well," said the man, completely straight-faced, "I am glad that it did." The final chunk of snow skittered down off of his mustache. "I imagine that, if I were a kid, it might've done the same for me!" He shook his head and a rueful smile came over his face. "Stop them?" He addressed Xiuyang. "Why, you'd have spoiled all of their fun!" Roslyn's head lifted upright in surprise. She had expected them to get into trouble, but it didn't seem like the case. She couldn't help but smile in relief at that fact. [color=cbc66d]"I'm sorry you got caught up in it. Who might you be, sir?"[/color] [color=slateblue]"Indeed,"[/color] Xiuyang replied with a wooden smile. Only her friends would likely notice that her heart wasn't in it. Roslyn shot Marci a brief look when she spotted Xiuyang's smile. [color=#2E8B57]"You have the pleasure of speaking with Wachtmeister Karl von Mollern, young lady,"[/color] he replied. [color=#2E8B57]"But, unlike yourself, I am not a child, and you-" He leveled a pointer at Xiuyang, "should, in fact, have spoiled their fun." His smile fell. "You have struck a constable of the peace. All of you: into my office, now!"[/color] Marceline was halfway through shooting a knowing glance back when the situation changed yet again. She nearly jumped in her seat, and was the first one in, suitably chagrined. Johann stumbled after. Roslyn tensed again when she heard the constable's tone change. For a moment, she felt like she was being scolded by her grandfather back home. With a bit of hesitation, she moved her feet and kept close to Xiuyang as she followed the others inside. [i]Perfect. I wonder how long Evander will rub it in,[/i] Xiuyang wondered as she followed the others to his office. Marco obediently followed the pigheaded officer into the constabulary, but he was already plotting how to spring himself and his cohorts out of police custody if this diversion took them more than a couple of hours. Those missing people weren't going to be found by the police, that much was obvious by now. Furthermore, who the hell got this mad over a stray snowball when it was snowing on you every day of the week? The office was a functional space. There were stacks of paper, a coat hanging on a hook from the door, and four chairs arrayed across from a desk just imposing enough to speak to its occupant's authority but no more. The taxidermized head of a Grand Mountain Serpent hung on one wall, along with a stag and a direwolf. There was a graduate's certificate from the All-Seeing Eye School for the Magically Gifted, along with a handful of other awards. Along another wall was a weapon rack, with various pistols, rifles, a couple of bows, and some swords. The holding cells had been on the ground floor, so this was clearly a space for individuals due at least a certain respectable minimum of trust. [color=#2E8B57]"I must say yours was the most creative way of announcing oneself I have seen in some time, and I deal with all sorts here."[/color] The Wachtmeister sighed, but he quickly straightened, clasping his hands together over his desk. [color=#2E8B57]"So, the Academy has sent the six of you and... you were already here, Herr Steinbauer?"[/color] Johann nodded. [color=goldenrod]"The customary Caldores visit."[/color] [color=#2E8B57]"A bit more eventful this time, no?"[/color] Johann pursed his lips and nodded. [color=#2E8B57]"And your job is to solve this case for us?"[/color] The wachtmeister addressed the group. Was there something funny in his tone as he spoke? Marco clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention. [color=7b6c64]"With respect sir, our lack of manners aside, I believe you will find the talents of six senior students from the most prestigious academy on the continent to be more than sufficient for the job. Or... is there something you find lacking in Herr Steinbauer?"[/color] Karl nodded slowly, offering a snort at the end. [color=#2E8B57]"You have become the butt of of their jokes, Johann, huh?"[/color] He held up a hand to forestall an answer, turning back to Marco. [color=#2E8B57]"Oh, it is not your talents that I doubt," [/color] he replied. [color=#2E8B57]"Those are quite... well-documented."[/color] He took up his quill, twirling it without dipping it in the inkpot on his desk. [color=#2E8B57]"In fact, I might suppose you lot are [i]overqualified[/i] for such a small matter as this."[/color] He waved his hand to pre-emptively dismiss any challenge. [color=#2E8B57]"Oh, it is a big deal to the families - Reshta favour them - and to some of us provincials out here, but in the grand scheme of things..."[/color] He trailed off, opening his query to the floor. [color=#2E8B57]"But allow me put this question to you: why do [i]you[/i] think you are here?"[/color] He tapped his desk a couple of times, eyes studying their reactions. Marco remained at attention, but continued to answer the Wachtmeister's questions. [color=7b6c64]"Based on past experiences sir, the presence of so many powerful gifted is typically an answer to a problem that cannot be handled by ordinary hard working officials. I do not claim to know anything, but my guess is that there is some difficulty with the investigation that cannot be overcome by the resources of this small town, and one that you are for some reason unwilling to disclose publicly."[/color] Ingrid had stifled a half laugh over Marci as the snowball smacked his mustache crocked. It was obvious he was at least important, or else the nobility in town has one impressive body double. Her legs stung a little from the comical impact but she shook it off and patted Marci on the shoulder in case to dispel what little guilt there was. They were called inside but Ingrid wouldn't dare drag in mud or snow, lest she be made to mop it up later. A touch of binding and arcane and off went the mess. She would offer it to Marci as well since she was close. Ingrid was rather impressed by the 2nd floor of the building, especially the graduate from the All Seeing-Eye, the best magic school outside of Ersand'Enise. It was obvious we left much to be desired in Karl's mind but Ingrid didn't mind. The Schneeballschlacht was worth it. Always the compliment addict, Ingrid sat up proudly at Marco's words. Ingrid was no fool on why she was here, It wasn't even the first she had been sent to just say 'yes, things are fine.' [color=8882be]"Our job, as prescribed by the school, is to do an investigation on the disappearances to make sure the Caldores festival can happen without a hitch."[/color] Ingrid answered. Though it was obvious that she may actually do some investigating. Wachtmeister von Mollern pursed his lips, nodding at Marco's words. [color=#2E8B57]"Unwilling or [i]unable[/i]?"[/color] Then, Ingrid offered [i]her[/i] opinion, and he smiled. [color=#2E8B57]"That is the crux of the issue,"[/color] he remarked, setting his quill back in its holder and spreading his hands. Dorothea remained aloof, Xiuyang uncharacteristically quiet, and Johann less comfortable than usual. Marceline took a moment to adjust one of her legs. [color=#2E8B57]"On the one hand,"[/color] the constable continued, [color=#2E8B57]"We have a group who are underqualified in terms of maturity and experience."[/color] He raised his left palm as if lending weight to its associated point. [color=#2E8B57]"On the other, that same group is overqualified by measure of training, reputation, and raw power."[/color] Right counterbalanced left, now. [color=598527]"So... they want our power but not our opinions?"[/color] Marceline offered tentatively. Wachtmeister Karl scratched at his face beside his mustache and half-shrugged. [color=#2E8B57]"On the one hand, you have a mandate to wrap matters up quickly."[/color] The twin palms came up again. [color=#2E8B57]"On the other, you have the power to make a real nuisance of yourself if you desire."[/color] Xiuyang stood businesslike, as if she hadn't just tried, even a little, to be a part of the Schneeballschlacht. She stood as she had seen her father do, and stood as she supposed a soon-to-be 20-year-old should stand. [color=slateblue]"Yes, sir. I have grown accustomed to these kinds of assignments. We are to be seen by the public walking around the town looking like busy and important people, then assure everyone with our overqualified Gifts that nothing is wrong and that the construction and the festivities will proceed as scheduled."[/color] She rolled her wrist and rattled it off as if it were routine to her by now. [color=slateblue]"I understand your concern that, being young biros with a need to feel important, we're likely to perform—[/color] She scoffed humorously. [color=slateblue]"—gosh, a [i]*full*[/i] investigation—unless there are some wise, helpful adults around to remind us that our role here isn't [i]*quite*[/i] so direly important."[/color] She nodded sagely, as if she counted herself among the wise and helpful adults. [color=slateblue]"Your preference is duly noted, Wachtmeister. If I may, I can speak to the foreman and the families and have this wrapped up neatly in a bow in a matter of hours."[/color] Xiuyang stood businesslike, as if she hadn't just tried, even a little, to be a part of the Schneeballschlacht. She stood as she had seen her father do, and stood as she supposed a soon-to-be 20-year-old should stand. [color=slateblue]"Yes, sir. I have grown accustomed to these kinds of assignments. We are to be seen by the public walking around the town looking like busy and important people, then assure everyone with our overqualified Gifts that nothing is wrong and that the construction and the festivities will proceed as scheduled."[/color] She rolled her wrist and rattled it off as if it were routine to her by now. [color=slateblue]"I understand your concern that, being young biros with a need to feel important, we're likely to perform—[/color] She scoffed humorously. [color=slateblue]"—gosh, a [i]*full*[/i] investigation—unless there are some wise, helpful adults around to remind us that our role here isn't [i]*quite*[/i] so direly important."[/color] She nodded sagely, as if she counted herself among the wise and helpful adults. [color=slateblue]"Your preference is duly noted, Wachtmeister. If I may, I can speak to the foreman and the families and have this wrapped up neatly in a bow in a matter of hours."[/color] Roslyn glanced over a few points of interest in the office as they walked further in. She had caught the Wachtmeister’s tone, subtly hinting toward skepticism and disbelief. It poked at her confidence and flared her anger. It got even worse when he mentioned Johann 'being the butt of their jokes'. No, she scolded herself. She had already shown her immaturity enough today. With a soft breath, she pressed it down and let the others speak first. Their assumptions varied as the Wachtmeister continued. The subtle feeling that things weren't what they appeared settled in her stomach. She tightened her arms about herself a bit and focused on the conversation. By now, it seemed like everyone was eager to get started. Was there really any reason for her to speak her thoughts out loud now? At least without proof? Roslyn spoke up softly. [color=#cbc66d]"I would like to know what you've discovered so far."[/color] She then added with sincere empathy, [color=#cbc66d] "I can only guess the amount of grief their loved ones are dealing with right now." [/color] Losing a family member was hard enough, she knew, but never knowing how or why felt extremely cruel. It was taunting them with hope. The wachtmeister did his best not to crack up at Xiuyang's tone but, after a moment, his quivering lip settled. [color=#2E8B57]"Ah, good to see that we have an understanding."[/color] Outside, the voices of carolers could be heard across the street. Children ran about, high on a heady mixture of sugar apples, tag, and snowball fighting. A couple of older souls among them were busy building a snowman. [color=#2E8B57]"Those who are eager to have their cathedral for Caldores at any cost would hate to have you interfering."[/color] He shook his head, starting to reach for one of a series of switches on the wall with wires leading up from them into the ceiling. His next statement addressed Roslyn as well. [color=#2E8B57]"Well, for starters, you should definitely [i]not[/i] speak to the foreman or the families, and I've heard that the architect is a terribly mean fellow, best avoided. His daughter is a witch, too, and that organist..."[/color] Karl shivered. Then, he knit his fingers over the desktop. [color=#2E8B57]"Oh, and the local convent is not a good place to look."[/color] He scoffed at the notion. [color=#2E8B57]"The church would have little to say on this, I'm certain."[/color] If his words and tone of voice did not make his meaning amply clear, his expression must've. [color=#2E8B57]"But you [i]are[/i] correct that you'll require supervision."[/color] He pressed two of the switches. The wires tightened and, split seconds later, the tingling of a pair of bells could be heard: one further down the building's short hallway and the second on its lower floor. Doors creaked open and there were brisk footsteps along the hallway. From the lower floor, a door slammed and floorboards creaked. [color=#87CEEB]"Herr von Mollern!"[/color] came a voice from down below, and the footsteps in the hallway halted. Karl pushed himself free of his desk and brushed past the youths gathered inside. [color=#2E8B57]"Ah, was kann ich für Sie tun, meine liebe Edith?"[/color] He leaned against the banister. A younger man with reddish-brown hair and a small, well-trimmed mustache slid in beside him. There was a tethered woman below, about twenty-five to thirty, with dirty-blonde hair pulled into a bun. She posted her hands on her hips before gesturing towards a barred cell with one. [color=#87CEEB]"So, I am to leave junge Herr Weber completely alone, without supervision?"[/color] The ginger man glanced at Wachtmeister Karl. [color=#1E90FF]"Ja,"[/color] he replied. [color=#87CEEB]"Und zen I am to walk up ze stairs, I suppose."[/color] She made a little walking motion with her fingers. Both men tilted their heads, blinked, and nodded. [color=#1E90FF]"Ja."[/color] [color=#2E8B57]"Ja."[/color] Edith nodded, taking a push forward and craning her neck. [color=#87CEEB]"Und, lastly, I am to take these... kleine Detektive on a tour of ze town."[/color] [color=#2E8B57]"You are three for three, Edith!"[/color] cheered Wachtmeister Karl. [color=#2E8B57]"Zat is why you make the big bucks."[/color] [color=#87CEEB]"Oh."[/color] She blinked, crossing her arms, and seemed to take a moment to digest it. [color=#87CEEB]"And who will I be leaving ze key with?"[/color] The red-haired man jerked a thumb at his superior, and Karl nodded, holding a hand out. [color=#2E8B57]"I will be taking that and keeping an eye on junge Herr Weber. He is only drunk again, no?"[/color] Edith rolled [i]back[/i] a push and craned her neck to see into the cell. [color=#87CEEB]"Ja,"[/color] she replied, straightening as Karl and his deputy made their way down the stairs. [color=#87CEEB]"You are a lazy man, Karl."[/color] [color=#2E8B57]"Ah, yes. I know."[/color] He smiled as she tossed him the keys. [color=#2E8B57]"But you are a young woman and you need your exercise, even if you are angebunden."[/color] [color=598527]"That means 'tethered',"[/color] Marci translated quietly. [color=#2E8B57]"These are my deputies,"[/color] the wachtmeister announced, gesturing to each, in turn. [color=#2E8B57]"The sane one is Bastian."[/color] The ginger flicked his capelet behind him and bowed with a flourish. [color=#1E90FF]"Ever at your service."[/color] He reached for Roslyn's hand to take it and kiss it while Edith scrunched up her nose in disgust and Karl arched an eyebrow tiredly. [color=#2E8B57]"Annnd... you have already experienced Edith Grünewald, or at least you think you have."[/color] He gestured at the tethered woman who, to her credit, rolled forward and offered her hand to whoever would take it. Karl von Mollern lifted a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. [color=#2E8B57]"Despite appearances, we do take this matter very seriously."[/color] Both deputies nodded in sharp agreement. [color=#2E8B57]"Bastian will be headed to the houses of Ernst Maurer and Florian Weber, to speak with their families."[/color] The younger man appeared to swallow and shift a bit where he stood. Then, Karl's eyes flicked to Edith. [color=#2E8B57]"Fraulein Grünewald will be taking a cart to the cathedral -"[/color] She deflated a bit, visibly relieved. [color=#2E8B57]"- To speak with the foreman, architect, and whoever else might be there."[/color] He clasped his hands at the small of his back as Edith turned on the spot. [color=#87CEEB]"Sekunde!"[/color] she chirped, hurrying off to get something from her office. [color=#2E8B57]"Please make your choices accordingly,"[/color] concluded Karl. Evander stood near the corner of the office, the low hum of carolers outside mingling faintly with the shuffle of boots in fresh snow. He took in the exchange between all who arrived from Ersand'Enise and their von Mollern host. What was interesting were the warnings, *Avoid the foreman. Avoid the architect. Avoid the convent. Avoid the church.* For Evander, it was a wonder there was anything left to look at all. He leaned against the wall. Listened to the students, observed Wachmeister, and then a crew of others joined after bells were rung, Sheriff Bastian and his two deputies, Edith, and Karl. Upon their arrival, Wachtmesiter proposed the group split and travel with each deputy who had different missions. The mission that stood out the most to Evander was the cathedral. It was the nexus of this visit. Evander approached Edith, taking her hand, "If you'll have me, I'll accompany you to the cathedral. I'm more useful in conversations than in condolences." He respectfully kissed the top of her hand with a soft gaze as a gentleman should and released. Xiuyang sniffed in disapproval. If he was mocking her, at least he got to the point in the end. She did take Edith's offered hand and introduced herself again. [color=slateblue]"Likewise,"[/color] she concurred with Evander. She'd done a few safety inspections, and was curious about the working conditions, but she didn't feel the need to say so. Ingrid quite enjoyed the little show that had happened and made her decision to go with Bastian, she believed she could do some good there instead of congregating together. [color=8882be]"I would like to accompany Bastian, if he would have me,"[/color] Ingrid told them. She glanced over to Johann, giving a subtle nod to him, as if asking for his company there. Ingrid quite enjoyed the little show that had happened and made her decision to go with Bastian, she believed she could do some good there instead of congregating together. [color=8882be]"I would like to accompany Bastian, if he would have me,"[/color] Ingrid told them. She glanced over to Johann, giving a subtle nod to him, as if asking for his company there. [color=86608E]"ach, die Freude an der Jugend."[/color] The voice of the woman who was among the young rang clear in response to Bastian's courting of a the Enthish lady. A joyful sigh remembering events long since in the past, Dorothea nodded. [color=86608E]"Then I will be accompanying you to the Cathedral if you don't mind."[/color] Did someone of her status really need to ask? [color=86608E]"After being told about it for our short time present, I can't help but wish to look at it up close."[/color] Her innocent smile radiated. [color=86608E]"Would it be as big as the one back home?"[/color] Roslyn felt her hand raised and kissed, her cheeks pink hue darkening a bit with blush. She didn't expect that as she gave a little, polite smile. Of course Dorothea's comment didn't help causing that blush to deepen even if she wasn't sure what was said. She gave Bastian a polite, warm smile. [color=#cbc66d] "I appreciate it." [/color] Gently pulling her hand away, her eyes turned to Igrid. [color=#cbc66d] "I think I'll come along too. Grief is a thing not easy to deal with and they might not want to touch upon the topic." [/color] Xiuyang's eyes flicked between Roslyn, Ingrid, and the womanizer. Was there a hint of a pleading look Ingrid's way? Ingrid just smiled absently. [color=#1E90FF]"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Wicke."[/color] His mustache was trimmed short so as not to tickle ladies' skin too much when his lips met it. He lifted his face away and smiled. [color=#1E90FF]"Bastian would be most honoured to have you, Lady Penderson."[/color] Had she imagined the wink? She [i]had[/i] to have imagined it, right? Johann, however, noticed many things, for such were his talents. He noticed Ingrid's glance his way. Then, he noticed her obliviousness towards Xiuyang's. [color=goldenrod]"Ah, Herr Schüttmann,"[/color] he addressed the deputy, [color=goldenrod]"I think I shall come along as well."[/color] Marco was the last of the group to fall in beside Bastian, who blinked at the presence of the two other men before offering a large smile. [color=#1E90FF]"Ah! Wunderbar. We are evenly divided, zen!"[/color] he nodded, suddenly businesslike, and hurried over to his office to collect a few things that he stuffed into a bag. Edith's group was already headed to the stables. [color=#1E90FF]"Zat should be about it."[/color] He shook his head sadly and pursed his lips as he came out. [color=#1E90FF]"Let us see what we can do for zose poor families, no?"[/color] [color=#1E90FF]"Viel Glück, Edith!"[/color] he called. His counterpart, already sitting at the reins of the cart, craned her neck to take him in. [color=#87CEEB]"Du auch, Bastian!"[/color] [color=#1E90FF]"Try not to get stuck in any mud again!"[/color] Her group was loaded. His was congregating by the opposite door. [color=#87CEEB]"Try not to get stuck in any girls again!"[/color] Bastian's face turned red and he twisted, bag slung over his shoulder, to offer some retort, but then Edith was moving and he ushered Ingrid, Roslyn, Johann, and Marco out the door. [color=#1E90FF]"Come, now. I shall take you zere. For all of our fun talk, zis is something I wish to see solved, for zose families' sake."[/color] He took the lead and strode out into the street. [color=8882be][i]Did he refer to him- Did he wink at me?[/i][/color] caught off guard by the whole affair, she had little time to think of anything really before another quick trade of banter that ended in the obvious loss for Bastian. He was surely a lecherous man but Ingrid did not mind. After all, she believed that they do care for the people here. [color=734960]"I will stay back of the group lest I give them some fright."[/color] Roslyn's eyes widened and her jaw nearly dropped at what Edith said. Her eyes turned to Bastian, expecting him to explain. But the man's face rivaled hers from earlier as he quickly rushed them out. [/hider]