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[color=7ea7d8][b]Location: [/b][/color] The Haven

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With that done, Morris set out to deliver the rest of the letters in quick succession. He knocked on doors and left them in baskets hung up for this very purpose, down the winding halls of the Haven. It was just another day, doing this and that, whatever Rosemarie or one of the girls needed. It was easy work, and it needed to be done. He'd always made a point of keeping on top of things like this out of respect, and also out of a deal he made once. Rosemarie had been gracious enough to let him stay, and he [i]insisted[/i] he earn it, rather than let her just house him for nothing in return. He didn't have [i]much[/i] more left to do with the mail doled out.

Nothing mundane, anyway. He didn't notice Prudence skulking around his workspace under a veil of invisibility.

He withdrew a key from his coat, made of tarnished ivory, and slid it into a lock with no pins. The door was thicker than most, though no one would know just by looking at it. It slid open without a sound, and without a push from Morris. He walked in and left the door to slowly swing shut on its own, with more than enough time for someone to sneakily slip inside behind him. But who would? After all, it was [i]dark[/i] behind that door. Not a single light was on, until Morris began igniting gas lamps with a match, one by one, until the room was [i]mostly[/i] visible.

It resembled an infirmary, in a way. There was a long table covered in jars of various fluids, a shorter table with wooden stands holding up oddly shaped bones that seemed to be an incomplete project, and a set of tools in a leather bundle, rolled up for storage. The walls were bare stone and mortar, and a drain was open in the center of the floor. The room felt cold, and it wasn't just the temperature.

[color=7ea7d8]"Vicar,"[/color] He muttered, removing his coat and layering it over a chair. [color=7ea7d8]"The talisman. Fill a phial with two parts water, one part laudanum, bring it to me as well. Gently, now."[/color]

Something in the dimmer parts of the room shuffled. It was tall, and there was a scraping noise.


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[color=fdc68a][b]Location: [/b][/color] St. Eustace's School

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[color=fdc68a]"I certainly feel it is [i]important[/i] to put them in their place,"[/color] Silas remarked. [color=fdc68a]"We live in dangerous times, Ms. Aoko. Many of these children may find themselves at the end of a blade, or at the hands of an inquisition. It is [i]right[/i] of you to amend their notions of superiority.[/color] He had heard too many stories of a young Enlightened who had assumed their abilities to defy reason could defy bullets, stories of their abilities giving out at crucial moments when a holy man of the faith had just enough time to plunge a knife between their ribs. Arrogance got people killed, it was a rare thing in a "civilized" society, when they were allowed to only get laid flat on their face instead.

A duel did sound interesting.

[color=fdc68a]"I was hoping to keep myself available, should Ingram need me with today's events. But, if you can bear with an empty-handed combatant, then by all means, I will [i]happily[/i] take that offer."[/color] Silas was by no means the local authority on combat, even keeping in mind the boys outside. It was a mechanism, for him. A method of improving himself and keeping sharp in a world full of monsters who preyed on his kind.