[center][h1][b]Aurelia Hargrave[/b][/h1][/center]

For someone whose star had once rose on the heights of infamy and theatricality, chasing after fae traffickers was undignified, low-grade grunt work meant for lesser witches. Too bad that it was exactly what those holding Aurelia's leash thought she deserved. And frankly? She'd take it. At least it meant she was out of prison. Truly, the true talent afforded to the Hargrave name was covering up its shame. That was the only reason she even had any of her opportunities, after all.

Still, it would have been appreciated if Aurelia had been stuck with witches that understood the value of discretion, as opposed to the heavily-robed foreign mess and the one in [i]full plate[/i]. Really, it would have been one thing if this was a raid and they knew where their targets were hiding. But this was an investigation requiring at least some small measure of discretion, despite the idiosyncracies of witches. 

Aurelia's steps were silent: a relic of her time as a phantom thief. Of course, the lightness of her gait meant little when accompanied by the landsknecht with the nice hat. She took a moment to check her pistols, confirming that they were loaded with the proper bullets: ordinary ones for now. They could be enhanced by her magic, and if anything particularly arduous came up, she still had her spell bullets ready to go. Her arms readied, she looked out to the other as they trod through the streets. 

[b]"Let's at least [i]attempt[/i] to be stealthy. There's no need to let every cutthroat and rogue in this part of town know we're coming. I can scout ahead, if we need it."[/b]

They needed it. The collective group needed it very much.