[center][h3][color=C0392B]Rudolf Sagramore[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=c0392b]"Loki,"[/color] floated in the low-toned corroboration, his eyes narrow slits of dusky gold. While Miina had delivered her preliminary update to the rest of the group at large, Rudolf has down to a knee, setting up a procession of weaponry on the grass out in front of the Hovel the Kirins had regrouped at. The three mercenaries he'd dispatched had left behind their share of incriminating evidence. [color=c0392b]"Sounds like that trickster spirit the colder reaches of Skael have legends about. Makes sense, given they apparently shapeshifted— I came in after the explosion, so I didn't hear whatever they told Miina directly before, but evidently the original Alambert was deceived by their wearing Isolde's face before being assassinated."[/color]

Isolde and assassination. Huh.

Before his crouching frame, multiple gunblades and rifles sat, neatly arranged where a week ago they might have been haphazardly dumped, a testament to Elly's firm hand in instruction of proper firearms handling. In the aftermath of their clash with the foreign saboteurs, he had set to work scraping together whatever he could of what the mercenaries had been forced to leave behind, while Miina had filled him in on just how exactly they had gotten into a situation that ended in "dust explosion"— the thinking being, naturally, that any potential ammunition resupply would be helpful if more of Valheim's airships were on the way. A handful of shell casings had been shoved into his pocket as well—

[color=c0392b]"Nor were they alone. A lot of mercenary muscle backing their wing of the operation— I didn't see anyone that registered specifically as a SEED,"[/color] he glanced towards Esben and Eliane, before lifting one of the aforementioned lengths of brass, and the gunblade accompaniment that had employed it to nearly take his head off. It was little comfort that he got out of the battle itself with only a couple new nicks and scrapes— especially when the blast was still writ large over the rest of his form. Hair wild and windswept about twelve different directions. Down yet another cloak. Plainly a mess.[color=c0392b] "But given the name, it's worth investigating if these aren't Skael-sourced arms or men. I only know the few, so..."[/color]

He set them back down, rising again. [color=c0392b]"What's more, the men were lead by some manner of mage— he had some raven-shaped construct of aether monitoring Isolde, apparently. Overheard her no longer being with us. Good work, I guess."[/color]

There was a somber edge to his grimace, but he declined to indulge the feeling.

He half turned, eyeing the path they'd taken to get there. He nearly didn't want to go back into the city— Cid and Zacharias both being here meant he had some time as the only voice in his head, for what little it likely mattered— after all, Isolde had sensed the shadow on his soul with no prompting, and there was hardly reason to assume either of them couldn't manage the same.

[color=c0392b]"We figured it'd be wisest to head straight here and regroup. You'll have to forgive me, Eliane, I didn't think it prudent to go grab the big gun until we could be on the same page and determine the best emplacement— but if they have remote observation capability like that, our safe house might not be so safe after all. I can double back for it now."[/color]