Gears’ grin widened at Marcus’s suggestion. [“Other side? Sure. I know two ways around this rat hole.” She tipped her hat toward Elora. “Lady wants to come, she comes. Just keep up.”

Piero gave the pair a quick nod. “Do not start anything before we know what we are looking at.”

“Then tell trouble not to start itself,” Gears replied, already slipping away with Elora through a side cut between soot-stained storehouses.

Marcus’s Haunter received its instruction with a solemn nod before drifting toward the shadowed buildings, ready to follow anything that fled. Hwicce’s blade came free with a soft rasp, while Piero drew no weapon at all, though one hand settled beneath his coat as the three advanced beneath the broken red lantern.

The voices sharpened as they neared the narrow lane.

“I told you, I don’t know when he’s coming back,” a thin, strained man said. “I did my part. I got the carriage. I brought you here. I was told to wait.”

“And I was told nothing,” snapped the second voice. A woman’s voice, furious rather than frightened. “I have been locked in this moldy closet for hours, I missed morning conditioning, my hair is a disgrace, and if you think I am missing the Derby because some gloved scarecrow paid you in coin, you have vastly misunderstood the scale of your mistake.”

Marcus, Hwicce, and Piero reached the corner of the side lane. Through the cracked opening of an old service building, the scene finally revealed itself.

Milo Wick matched Havel’s description almost perfectly. Thin, brown-haired, narrow face, left shoulder held a little higher than the right. He stood near the door with a cudgel gripped badly in both hands, sweating through his collar.

Across from him sat the Calabrese “little comet.”

Not a horse.



A young woman in expensive, rumpled racing silks, with chestnut horse ears twitching above disheveled hair and a long matching tail lashing irritably against the dusty floor. One ankle was secured by a short chain to an iron ring bolted into the wall. It had not made her meek. If anything, it seemed to have concentrated her outrage into a sharper form.

She leaned forward in her chair, eyes blazing at Milo.

“Open that door,” she hissed, “or when Big Dom finds me, I will personally make sure he has to identify you by your shoes.”

Marcus stopped in his tracks when he moved close enough to see the woman chained. His eyes widened as he realized that she was the 'Comet' they had been asked to retrieve. As he stood there things started to click into place. All the signs of a 'noble woman' he had seen in the stable. He had assumed it was someone involved in the theft but now he realized it was more likely the target herself.

A target that was still captured he realized as he focused on the task at hand. It was obvious that Milo held Comet hostage, although from the threats she made it seemed the chain kept her there more than the cudgel the kidnapper held.

The spirit medium looked to the others and if no one offered a plan he took the initiative. He attempted to sneak up to the door unnoticed. If he managed that he threw open the door, axe in hand.

"Milo Wick, it's over! Come out with your hands up!" He shouted. Inwardly he cringed, that had sounded a lot cooler on the police dramas.

Actions:
1. Sneak up: [Stealth] F - Grade F - Cooldown 0 - Sneak up to the door
2. Throw the door open
3. Let's be Friends: [Persuasion] F, [Insight] F - Grade F - Cooldown 0 - Convince Milo to surrender

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

"I will be damned... that blabbing kid was right the first time!" Hwicce's tone dropped barely above a whisper, and his eyes narrowed with what they had found. Not a horse, nothing like the ones he was used to at all, but a woman with horse ears and a tail. "This whole place is stranger than it looks..." Murmuring, he sprang into action along with Marcus.

Following into the room, his longsword pointed towards Milo, while his other hand was hidden behind his back, holding a throwing knife. "Be smart, kid. Anything other than surrendering will earn you, at least, a few broken bones."

The door slammed open, the clerk’s whole body jolted as if the hinges themselves had shouted. The words filled the little service room with more confidence than Milo possessed in his entire body. The cudgel came up, then immediately dipped, then came up again as Hwicce stepped in beside Marcus with steel drawn and a promise of broken bones.

Milo’s eyes flicked from the axe, to the sword, to Piero behind them.

“Oh no,” he whispered. “No, no, no. You are not supposed to be here.”

From the rear door came the heavy clack of metal knuckles against wood. Gears’ voice followed, cheerful and terrible.

“Funny. We keep hearing that.”

The back entrance opened just enough to show Gears (and possibly Elora) there as well. Whatever escape Milo had imagined died in his throat.

The chained woman looked from one doorway to the other, then slowly leaned back in her chair.

“Well,” she said, ears twitching sharply. “I see the rescue has arrived with all the grace and subtlety of a dropped piano.”

Piero stared at her, then gave a relieved little bow of his head. “Miss Bellaflora.”

“Do not ‘Miss Bellaflora’ me, Piero. I have been chained in a room that smells like mildew and poor decisions.”

Milo finally dropped the cudgel. It hit the floor with a pathetic clatter.

“I just took the payment,” he blurted. “I was supposed to hold her until Bell came back. I never hurt her. I swear.”

The horse girl’s tail lashed once against the dusty floor.

“He did not hurt me,” she said coldly. “He annoyed me. Repeatedly. Which may prove worse for him.”

"It actually worked," Marcus whispered in mild shock as the man dropped his weapon. He'd actually done it! Okay, yes, it was also probably the sight of Hwicce's weapon and all the others. Still, he was going to take this as a victory.

Marcus stepped into the room and kicked the weapon away, although he doubted Milo would attempt to use it. He turned to the horse-girl not quite sure how to address her. Eventually he decided to follow Piero's lead. "Glad to see you unharmed Miss Bellaflora. Give us a second and we'll have you unchained." He glared at Milo, "won't we?"

Marcus gave the would be kidnapper (horsenapper?) a moment to produce the key and free the captive. He waited until she was unchained before he spoke again. "Miss Bellaflora could you tell us what happened?"

Elora went around back with Gears, and when Marcus initiated the confrontation, the two women made sure that Milo couldn't escape out the back. What she saw in the room though was not what she expected. What she saw was very clearly a girl, not a horse. Sure she had some horse-like features, but Elora had seen much more beast-like people in her day. At any rate, it seemed they found their captive, and Milo was even willing to disarm himself.

Marcus asked Miss Bellaflora what happened, so Elora figured she should put some pressure on Milo, to make sure he knew who he should side with. "I believe Big Dom said, in regards to the person who kidnapped his dear comet, that he wanted the son of a bitch so full of lead it will take the crows a week to sort them out." She looked pointedly at Milo, "is Mr. Bell worth protecting with your life on the line?"

Milo fumbled for the key so quickly he nearly dropped it twice. Under Marcus’s glare and Elora’s reminder of Big Dom’s preferred method of justice, whatever loyalty coin had bought him began leaking out through his pores.

“I do not know who he is,” Milo stammered, kneeling by Bellaflora’s chain. “I swear. He called himself Bell. Letters. Wax seals. Cash. Always cash. I was supposed to keep her here until tonight, then hand her over near the old loading spur.”

The lock clicked open.

Serafina Bellaflora pulled her ankle free, rose at once, and gave Milo a look that made the clerk shrink without anyone touching him. She dusted off her racing silks with furious dignity, ears pinned back and tail lashing.

“Mr. Bell,” she said sharply, answering Marcus while pointedly refusing to look grateful yet, “was waiting inside the carriage when I was brought in. Pale gloves. Awful hat. Voice like someone trying to sound older than he was. He knew my route, my schedule, my conditioning hours, and exactly which people in the stable could be bribed or fooled.”

Milo flinched.

Serafina noticed and snapped, “Yes, I meant you.”

Piero’s face had gone flat and dangerous. “Why take you?”

“Because if I vanish, Dom panics. If Dom panics, the odds move. If the odds move, someone makes a fortune.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if I miss the Derby, certain sponsors stop losing money on me.”

Gears flexed her gauntlets. “That sounds like a name behind a name.”

Before anyone could press further, a slow clap echoed from the lane outside.

Milo went white.

From the front of the service building came a smooth, muffled voice. “Very good, Miss Bellaflora. I was told you were quick.”

Figures moved beyond the cracked doorway. Four men in dark coats stepped into view, each with the tidy posture of hired muscle and the hard eyes of men paid enough not to ask questions. Two carried short clubs. One held a compact pistol low at his side. The last had a hooked knife and a smile with no humor in it.

Behind them stood Mr. Bell.

Tall. Dark coat. Pale gloves. Hat low. Exactly as described, and yet somehow still too deliberate to feel real.

Piero drew his weapon at last.

Gears’ grin vanished into something better suited for breaking doors.

Serafina’s nostrils flared. “You.”

Mr. Bell tilted his head. “Me.”

The side lane behind him filled with footsteps, more men cutting off the main exit. From the rear, Gears and Elora’s position still held the back door, but now the little service room had become a trap with two jaws.

Mr. Bell raised one pale-gloved hand.

“Kill the clerk if he talks. Take the girl alive. The rest are negotiable.”

Milo made a strangled sound.

Serafina looked at Marcus, Hwicce, Elora, and the others with blazing offense.

“If any of you let that man ruin my race day,” she said, “I will be unbearable.”

DM Notes: Currently, all four of Mr. Bell's goons are within a 30ft distance from the party. Mr. Bell is within a 45ft distance.

Marcus blinked as he tried to follow the horse-woman's explanation. The idea of her 'following' felt odd but perhaps she had been threatened? Hadn't there been laughter? Before he could ask more questions though the spirit medium heard clapping. His eyes widened when he realized not only had this the mysterious 'Bell' shown himself but he'd brought a whole crew of thugs. "I don't suppose we could talk-" he muttered to himself only to stop when Bell ordered them to attack. Figures, he mentally remarked

His face hardened as he prepared himself for combat. Marcus hated fighting but he'd quickly learned in this world that hesitation would get you killed. The spirit medium's grip on his axe tightened as he sprinted towards the enemies. He wasn't sure how effective pistols were in this world but it seemed the deadliest target.

Marcus charged forward and swung his axe at the pistol wielding thug with all his might. After that he realized he was now surrounded so he took a step back and prepared to deflect the first attack with his axe.

Actions:
1. Sprint: [Fast] F - Move to the goons
2. Soul Hunter: [Fighting Style: Axe] E, [Penetrating F] - Grade E - Cooldown 0 - Attack pistol goon
3. 'Counter Attack' defense

Elora was considering a plan where they hid and had one of Marcus' friends tell them when Bell arrived. But now it seemed Bell was here with friends of his own, so that plan was out the window. At least now they wouldn't have to try and find him. Marcus tried to start a parlay without much enthusiasm, Elora appreciated the effort, but Bell seemed like he would rather the group just be out of his way, by whatever means necessary. So Elora took up a combat stance, she'd be lying if she claimed to not be a bit excited.

There were four men plus Bell, and they had the group a bit surrounded. Two of them were near her and Gears, "you take the left I take the right?" Elora asked Gears, then she jumped into action. She dashed to the man on the right and unleashed the power of Lunaciel, creating a small icy vortex that was tinted red with vampiric energy. She had trained long and hard to be able to keep the vortex from harming her allies, and in such a cramped space that training would pay off.

Actions:
1, 2. Move to melee with one of the goons
3. Crimson Winter (flux) - Still Moon Style (F), Blight-Ice F, Aura (ice) F, Vampiric F, Selective F, (Area F), Cooldown (0). Elora channels the ice from her blade around herself as she strikes, damaging nearby enemies and healing herself.

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

Hwicce's eyes were trained on Mr. Bell for a moment, a smirk appearing on his lips. "Well, looks like the man himself came to see us. Good to deal with the head honcho himself." Immediately, the mercenary acted. He dashed towards the thug wielding the knife, one hand holding his sword, lifting it up for an attack. [Action 1]

20ft in, his other hand, still hidden behind his back, moved with a blur of movement. A dagger zipped through the air towards the man. [Action 2]

Actions
1 - Move 20ft towards the knife-wielding thug
2 - Heads-up! - Fighting Style E + Range E + Gear [Throwing Daggers] E + Concealment E - Grade E 1 Post Cooldown - Hwicce throws an unsuspecting dagger, up to 30ft of distance, toward his target

The little service room exploded into motion.

Marcus crossed the distance first, axe in both hands, aiming for the thug with the pistol before the man could make good use of it. The blow landed with brutal force, driving the gunman back with a cracked gasp, but the strain was too much for the weapon. The axe head split against the impact, metal and haft giving out in Marcus’s grip.

“Careful with this one!” Piero snapped, drawing a compact hand axe from beneath his coat and tossing it toward Marcus before his old weapon had fully hit the floor.

At the rear, Elora and Gears moved as one. The first clubman saw the frost-red shimmer around Lunaciel and stumbled back just in time, escaping the vortex fully. The second was not so lucky. Gears’ gauntlet crashed into his guard at the same instant Elora’s crimson winter swept through him, ice and vampiric force biting deep enough to leave him barely standing.

Near the front, Hwicce’s advance looked almost lazy until his hidden hand blurred. The dagger flashed past his sword arm and buried itself cleanly into the knife thug before the man had even settled into a stance. The thug stiffened, blinked once, and dropped to the floor in a heap.

Milo screamed and flattened himself against the wall.

Serafina Bellaflora stared at the dead man, then at Hwicce, ears twitching.

“Well. At least one of you is efficient.”

Mr. Bell did not flinch. Beneath the brim of his hat, only his mouth moved.

“Messy,” he said. “Proceed.”

---

Hostile Turn Begins

The wounded pistol thug staggers back, trying to bring his firearm up toward Marcus despite the blood soaking his sleeve. [Incoming 2d5 attack]

The uninjured clubman near the rear circles wide, looking to catch Elora between himself and the wounded clubman. [Incoming 2d5 attack]

The critically wounded clubman grips his weapon with both hands and lunges desperately toward Gears, more panic than discipline. [Incoming 2d5 attack]

Mr. Bell retreats a measured step down the lane, pale-gloved hand slipping into his coat as he calls out, “The girl alive. Everyone else is replaceable.” [Incoming ????]

Marcus watched in shock as his axe fell apart in his hands after the attack. The training he'd done clearly not accounted for the weathered weapon he carried. He glanced back in time to catch the axe that Piero had thrown him. It was only when he turned back that he realized his mistake and saw the pistol pointed at him point blank. The spirit medium had taken his eyes off the enemy and he felt death close in around him. With no other option Marcus threw himself to the ground in a desperate attempt to avoid a lethal shot.

Actions:
1. Dodge!
2. Dodge!!
3. Dodge!!!

Everyone else being replaceable didn't sound promising coming from Bell, but Elora had other things to worry about, like the man trying to club her. She quickly turned to face him, flourishing Lunaciel again, keeping the vortex of ice swirling around her. She then moved to parry his blow, attempting a counterattack in the process. The inelegance of his club may prove more of a hindrance than she thought, as she was used to dueling with swords.

Actions
1. Crimson Winter (flux) - Still Moon Style (F), Blight-Ice F, Aura (ice) F, Vampiric F, Selective F, (Area F), Cooldown (0). Elora channels the ice from her blade around herself as she strikes, damaging nearby enemies and healing herself.
2, 3. Counterattack

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

"Downed like a sack o' potatoes. Teaches ye not to keep on smirking." Hwicce's grin had turned cocky by then, but the mercenary didn't let his hubris distract him. From where he stood, he would throw a dagger at the pistol-wielding thug trying to hit Marcus. [Action 1]

Next he would dash towards Mr. Bell himself, trying to hit the man right in the family jewels. [Action 2/3]

Actions
1 - Heads-up! - Fighting Style F + Range F + Gear [Throwing Daggers] E + Concealment F + Energized F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown - Hwicce throws an unsuspecting dagger, up to 10ft of distance, toward his target
2/3 - The Advancing Nut-Craker! - Fighting Style F + Flare F + Energized F + Fast F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown - Hwicce rushes up to 40ft towards a target, before crouching and slamming the hilt towards their unprepared crotch

Marcus hit the ground just as the pistol came up.

The gunshot cracked through the service room, loud enough to make Milo yelp and Serafina’s ears snap flat against her hair. The bullet tore over Marcus instead of through him, splintering wood from the doorframe.

Before the gunman could correct his aim, Piero’s compact pistol barked from behind Marcus. The shot struck the thug’s arm and twisted him half sideways. A heartbeat later, Hwicce’s thrown dagger flashed in from the other angle and buried deep. The pistol clattered from slack fingers as the man collapsed, dead before he could hit the ground properly.

Piero lowered his smoking weapon by an inch. “That was the one I was worried about.”

At the rear, the wounded clubman tried to make his desperate lunge count. He did not get far. Gears caught the swing on one brass gauntlet, drove her other fist into his ribs with a metallic crunch, and sent him crashing backward into the wall. He slid down and stayed there.

Elora’s opponent proved less panicked and more dangerous. He circled wide, waited for Gears to finish her own target, then came in low and hard while Elora’s crimson frost curled around Lunaciel. She turned to meet him, blade flashing in a cold arc, and Gears tried to step in from the side.

The clubman forced through anyway.

His weapon smashed past the edge of the icy vortex and struck Elora hard across the guard. Armor cracked under the impact, protective plates breaking apart as the force drove into her. The counterstroke failed to find purchase, and the frost scattered in a glittering burst across the floorboards. [Elora's light armor is destroyed. Elora's HP 3/4]

Outside, Hwicce was already moving.

He crossed the lane toward Mr. Bell in a sudden rush, dropping low with the hilt of his sword aimed for a deeply personal sort of injury. For the first time, Bell moved quickly. His pale-gloved hand snapped from his coat, unfolding a strip of black paper that burst into gray dust and mirror-bright flecks.

Hwicce’s strike passed through a false outline.

The real Bell had shifted half a step back, coat fluttering, untouched.

“Crude,” Bell said.

Serafina glared from the room.

“Effective, if it lands.”

Only one clubman still stood near the rear, breathing hard with his weapon raised. Mr. Bell remained in the lane, his charm spent, his smile thinner now than before.

Marcus gritted his teeth as he hit the floor. The gunshot went off and he braced for the pain, only for nothing to happen. He opened an eye and realized he'd actually managed to avoid the shot.

The spirit medium clamored to his feet as the gunman was dispatched. As he glanced around it looked like most of the goons had been killed. Marcus was acutely aware that he was a novice compared to some of these people but he still could assist. His hand tightened on the hatchet he'd been given and he rushed Belle.

He doubted he'd be able to fight the ringleader by himself but at the very least he could support Hwicce. Marcus attempted a quick swipe with the weapon.

Actions:
1. Stand up
2. Move to Belle
3. Swift Soul Hunter: [Fighting Style: Axe] F, [Penetrating] F, [Accurate] F - Grade F - Cooldown 0

The club landed and Elora could feel her armour doing its job, though it didn't stop the pain entirely. Quickly glancing around the room she saw that only her current opponent and Bell remained. "Gears, go help the others. Detaining Bell is our top priority, I can handle this ruffian." She moved swiftly, making three strikes, the third being infused with Lunaciel's magic. Fighting one opponent meant she didn't have to swirl the magic around her, she could channel it more precisely.

Actions
1, 2. Basic attack
3. Borrowed Breath - Still Moon Style E, Blight-Ice F, Vampiric F, Cooldown 1. Elora strikes at her foe, chilling them and stealing some of their life for herself.

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

"Fuckin' bastard." Hwicce cursed under his breath when Bell's sleight of hand made the pommel of his sword swish against the air. From the corner of his eyes, the mercenary caught Marcus approaching the two rapidly, making him twirl his blade once more. "Might have gotten away once, but let's see if you can do it again."

Clenching his teeth, he moved once more, trying to make the same low attack from a different angle, before slashing twice: once at his chest and then at his leg.

Actions
1 - The Nut-Craker! - Fighting Style E + Flare F + - Grade E 1 Post Cooldown - Hwicce crouches and slam the hilt towards their unprepared crotch
2 - Basic Attack
3 - Basic Attack

E-0/1

Here is a concise narration post for the round:

Marcus scrambled back to his feet, the borrowed hand axe clenched in his grip as the last echo of the gunshot died behind him. Bell was still standing in the lane, pale gloves neat, coat barely disturbed, but the little trick with the false silhouette had already been spent.

That was all the opening Hwicce needed.

The mercenary came in low again, hilt first, forcing Bell to shift his guard downward. This time there was no paper charm, no gray dust, no mirrored outline to save him. Marcus arrived from the other side with a quick cut of the hatchet, and Piero’s pistol cracked again, forcing Bell’s shoulder back at the worst possible moment.

Then Gears hit him.

Her gauntlet drove into Bell’s side with a metallic crunch, folding him just as Hwicce’s blade followed through. The first strike opened him across the chest. The second cut low through his leg. Bell staggered, tried to keep his dignity for one last breath, and failed. His hat slipped from his head as he collapsed hard onto the cinder-stained ground.

The pale gloves twitched once.

Then went still.

Piero kept his pistol trained on the body for another heartbeat. “That,” he said quietly, “is going to complicate paperwork.”

At the rear, Elora made good on her promise. The clubman swung again, but this time Lunaciel met him cleanly. Her first strikes broke his rhythm, and the final thrust carried a biting chill that sank through flesh and bone alike. Frost crawled over his clothes as crimson energy pulled back into Elora, easing the pain from the blow she had taken. The man dropped, weapon clattering uselessly beside him. [Elora is back to full health]

For a moment, Cinder Arch held only smoke, heavy breathing, and the distant rumble of the city overhead.

Serafina Bellaflora looked over the fallen men, then lifted her chin.

“Well,” she said. “Now someone get me to a mirror, a bath, and the Derby. In that order.”

1. **Dungeon Master Involved**
- DoubleChecker (Dungeon Master Grade S)

2. **Summary of the Roleplay**
- The party was hired off the books by Don Domenico “Big Dom” Calabrese, a large, theatrical underworld figure with a dangerous temper, a deep love for gabagool, and an intensely emotional attachment to his stolen “little champion.” Rather than meeting at an Adventurer’s Guild, the group was brought through the back entrance of the upscale restaurant La Stella Rossa, where Big Dom made it clear that this job was private, urgent, and not to be discussed openly.

At first, the party was led to believe that Dom’s prized racehorse had been stolen before the Derby. His evasive language, the racing memorabilia, and his constant references to her legs, value, and temperament kept the true nature of the target hidden. The party accepted the job and was sent to investigate the Calabrese stables.

At the stables, the group uncovered evidence that the kidnapping had been arranged rather than forced. They found a staged latch break, blue silk, a silver hair clasp, a hidden note inside a mirror, and traces pointing toward Brass Lantern Private Hire, a wealthy carriage company outside Big Dom’s direct influence. The investigation also introduced Piero Lanza, Dom’s sharp-tongued lieutenant, and Gina “Gears” Gearaldi, a gauntleted Calabrese enforcer who joined the party despite Piero’s obvious irritation.

The group followed the lead to Brass Lantern, where they dealt with guarded clerks, polished security, and the coldly professional Madam Velora Cask. Through careful questioning, they learned that a carriage had been leased under the false name Mr. Bell, with no company rider, and later returned under suspicious circumstances. The late clerk responsible, Milo Wick, had vanished from work.

Investigating Milo’s room revealed that he had accepted payment and instructions related to the kidnapping. Clues included clay matching the carriage route, a broken wax seal, a burned note, and an indented message pointing toward Cinder Arch, an undertrack service area beneath the racing district. Marcus’s ghostly Haunters also returned with imperfect but useful reports that reinforced the lead.

At Cinder Arch, the party discovered Milo holding the captive. The twist was finally revealed: Big Dom’s “little comet” was not a horse, but Serafina Bellaflora, a famous horse-girl racer with chestnut ears, a matching tail, expensive rumpled racing silks, and an absolutely intolerable attitude. She was not frightened so much as furious, offended, and desperate to get back in time for the Derby.

Milo surrendered quickly under pressure from Marcus, Hwicce, Elora, Piero, and Gears. Serafina explained that Mr. Bell knew too much about her schedule and that the kidnapping seemed designed to move betting odds, sabotage Dom, and possibly benefit wealthy sponsors or fixers.

Before the party could extract her safely, Mr. Bell arrived with armed men. A fight broke out in the Cinder Arch service lane. Marcus charged the pistol-wielding thug and wounded him, though his old axe shattered in the process. Piero tossed him a replacement hand axe and helped cover him. Elora and Gears fought the rear attackers together, with Elora’s icy vampiric swordwork cutting through one of the clubmen. Hwicce killed the knife-wielding thug with a concealed thrown dagger, then rushed Bell.

Bell briefly avoided Hwicce with a prepared trick involving black paper, gray dust, and a false silhouette, but once that defense was spent, the party overwhelmed him. Marcus, Hwicce, Piero, and Gears converged on Bell together, while Elora finished the last clubman. Bell was struck down in the lane, ending the immediate threat.

With the kidnappers defeated, Serafina remained very much herself: irritated, demanding, and focused on getting cleaned up and returned in time for the Derby.

3. **Criminal Acts Perpetrated**
- None. (None of the NPCs involved in this RP are technically clean)

4. **Lore to Establish**
- Type of Submission (NPC) Don Domenico “Big Dom” Calabrese, country: Widersia

Role: Underworld patron, racing investor, restaurant owner, and local powerbroker.

Don Domenico Calabrese, usually called Big Dom by those with enough sense, is a large and imposing mob boss with a loud temper, expensive tastes, and a talent for turning any private meeting into both a business negotiation and a personal grievance. He operates out of the back rooms of La Stella Rossa, an upscale restaurant in the racing district, where his influence is felt through hired muscle, backroom favors, stable investments, and quiet threats.

Big Dom is theatrical, sentimental, dangerous, and deeply prideful. He can swing from grieving patriarch to murderous fury in the same breath, especially when he feels disrespected. He treats loyalty, food, family, and business as almost the same thing. To refuse hospitality from him is risky, especially when that hospitality is a mountain plate of gabagool, which he treats with near-religious seriousness.

His most prized asset is Serafina “Velvet Comet” Bellaflora, a famous horse-girl racer whom he often refers to as “my little champion” or “my little comet.” His attachment to her is a mix of business interest, personal affection, possessiveness, and public pride. When she was kidnapped before the Derby, Dom hired adventurers off the books rather than through the Adventurer’s Guild, both to avoid public humiliation and to keep control of the situation.

Though often ridiculous in manner, Big Dom is not harmless. His rage is real, his connections are wide, and his men understand that his orders are not suggestions. He prefers matters handled quietly, but when insulted, he is perfectly willing to make an example of someone.

Common mannerisms:
He speaks loudly, gestures with cigars, offers gabagool as if refusal were a moral failing, calls incompetent underlings “numbnuts,” and treats disrespect as a personal injury.

Typical quote:
“Sit. Eat. Anybody says no to the gabagool, I’m taking it personal.”



7. **Partial Participants**
- None (left IH)

8. **Full-Time Participants**
- (Dusk) Elora Vaelthorne - Standing Grade F (discord.com/channels/5207614178892185…)
- (Marcus) Marcus - Standing Grade E (discord.com/channels/5207614178892185…)
- (Maxxob) Hwicce - Standing Grade F (discord.com/channels/5207614178892185…)

9. **Characters with Point Boosters**
- None

10. **Assets/Titles Roleplayed For**
- Elora Vaelthorne - Connection with Don Domenico “Big Dom” Calabrese F -> Can request Big Dom's aid during an RP taking place in Widersia
- Hwicce - Connection with Don Domenico “Big Dom” Calabrese F -> Can request Big Dom's aid during an RP taking place in Widersia
11. **Characters with [Wanted]**
- None

12. Criminal Titles
- None

13. **Special Skills or Assets(downtime activities)**
- None

14. **Transactions Performed**
- None

15. **Character Sheet Oddities**
- None

16. **Aftermath **
- Mr. Bell was 'disappeared' after the events of this RP. Serafina Bellaflora won the Derby, raking in cash from Big Dom and, thankfully, the whole event was kept under wraps.

20. **Narrator Bonuses**
- None

21. **Additional Notes**
- Surprise Umamusume!