“Can we at least play the dart and balloon game before we go first? I want a teddy bear,” -Tristan Whitemarch, Page 3.
Amazonia Imperiia
As Richelieu entered the princess' tent, he would find himself surrounded by various spices, his nose would immediately be assaulted by a mixture of pleasant scents. Being closer to the princess, and now in private, he felt the potential of her magical power. A mage who could subvert nature, perhaps more, and not in any way new to the art. Indeed, even the wolf in the tent seemed to be affected by her powers, not reacting at all to Richelieu's entrance. The interior of the tent was fairly barren of materials, there was a table, some tribal paints and brushes, a small chest and no chairs or cushions.
Princess Vyl had been examining a spear when he entered, a well crafted one likely more to indicate her status rather than her fighting potential... Not that he was any real judge. She looks him over with a similar smile she displayed to Queen Alexandria before replying to his question with a sultry tone, growing closer to him with a slight exaggeration to the sway of her hips. "Of course..."
For a moment, she hesitates as she looks into his eyes, likely to try and judge his initial response to her proposal.
"I know where you can get evidence that my mother is not who she says she is..." Slowly, her fingers run across his cheek. "North of here is a temple... Small... Frail... Old... Demonic rituals went on there recently... My real mother is trapped there. Her soul, anyway." She backs off a little, a look of remorse crossing her face. "Men dressed like Imperial Soldiers trapped her there. It took all the magic I had to bring her back. Her soul is trapped there, but you can communicate with her, you can see for yourself what... Extremes the Imperium is willing to take to reinstate their glorious empire." Remorse contorted to anger as she turned away for a moment, sighing, attempting to calm herself down. "It only happened recently, so trying to get my sisters to believe me and investigate has been... A difficult feat, as that whore who has taken my mother's place has ordered nobody to go there for fear of being influenced by demons whom have been roaming the area lately... How pathetically quaint an excuse."
Her explanation finished, she turns to face him again, her more seductive nature returning in tow. "I could guide you there, with your friends, with your Queen as well to keep her out of the demon's hands... It would be safer that way, to ensure none of my sisters may come to harm... I could, though, instead send one of my sisters with you to guide you, if you... Do not trust me..."
Kraith would find the experience a familiar one, leaving his body. His ethereal form immediately beelined for his target, a young boy, a servant, a maid really. With the guile found commonly in any goblin he slipped into the boy's mind without disturbing his train of thought whatsoever. Indeed, it was likely one of Kraith's finest possessions of all time. Just in time to receive the last of the boy's orders. "... And the Queen ordered you to polish her spear tip as well. The boar from last night put up quite a fight and she wasn't quite able to make it shine the way she normally likes it." The women were teasing the boy, belittling him, though his lacklustre muscles and lithe frame didn't precisely earn him any traditional points of masculinity. Kraith, however, would find the body to be appreciable much like his own. Familiar in nearly every way save for everything being two feet shorter.
The boy quickly entered the tent, Uphetus was his name, he was reading aloud the list of things to check and clean. The tent was surprisingly vacant of most personal belongings one might expect of a Queen. Perhaps this was merely a temporary abode, or perhaps the Amazons did not put as much emphasis on corporeal belongings as the Free Holds' obsession with it would otherwise would. There was a large chest, though, which Kraith managed to subconsciously influence the maid to look at as soon as he had finished cleaning the Queen's spear tip. An inquisitive touch quietly opened the chest, much to Uphetus' surprise as he scrambles back from it for a moment. The Q-Queen, leaving her ch-ch-chest unlocked? Sh-she has the only k-k-key! No way?! He thought to himself, and little did he know to Kraith. A brief glance into the chest revealed a few documents, a curious looking glowing gem, and some strange green pods akin to peas. Uphetus quickly pocketed the pods before closing the chest. I had no idea the Queen had a sweet tooth! He smiled smugly to himself as he left the tent the same way he entered, much to the confusion of the two guards standing watch.
It seemed that all the useful information that Kraith was going to learn from this boy had been learned as he was quietly returning to his own tent to devour his ill gotten prize...
Just prior to all of these events, a mage's circle aboard the ship which the party arrived on flashed to life, and in a flash of smoke Ethyssa Abhorsen appeared. Reinforcements, it seemed, had arrived. After a minute or so of near vomit-inducing dizziness she manages to come to her senses with the aid of another mage on the ship. Thus with a few moments of preparation she followed an Imperium scout into the camp. From there, Garren turned away from his tasks to briefly bring her up to speed: That Kraith and Traxilus had gone together towards the Queen's tent, the momentary debacle that he had created at the diplomatic table, and Richelieu's private invitation to the Princess' tent. After he was finished, he returned to Alexandria's side.
First Blow
As the three undead faltered and fell to the rapid bursts of water, the other two turned their attention to the party. Neither of them were armed, thankfully, though judging by their appearance they likely had a decent amount of strength with which to pin down opponents. This variety was likely the kind to try and attack an enemy en masse as opposed to being individually useful or intelligent, and this particular quality was easily identified as they mindlessly attempted to run towards the party. That at least answered the question of whether they could run as they both rushed for Maher.
Yet, still. One of the two that charged forth was smashed to the ground by Erasmus, the reassuring sound of bone being smashed against the face of the shield could only perhaps be bested by smoothness in which the blade cleaved cleanly through its victim. The undead's head rolls down towards the coastline, its companion quickly turning its attention on the now more imminent threat of Erasmus. It lashes out, though it's not too effective...
Still. The undead would not get a second chance as the lined up shots from Alexander roar to life. The first shot misses its mark, landing square in front of the undead gecko several feet away from its target the undead gecko seems to jump in fear and then flee, like a living or intelligent creature would as opposed to these mindless undead. Thailen at this point makes her swing, a solid hit, not quite managing to truly decapitate the undead. It stumbles backward with a gaping cut across its neck almost in surprise as the second shot from Alexander goes off, blowing a solid quarter of the undead's skull apart. It immediately falls to the ground, no longer a threat to either Erasmus or Thailen.
As the three fallen undead started to get up, a loud scream pierces through the surrounding fog. It came from the top of the hill they were standing upon. It wasn't a scream of pain, though, more of frustration perhaps, or a war cry. The shrill tone indicated its owner to be a woman, it could feasible have been Wren Vesper's scream. The three remaining undead hesitate for a moment before lying back down, almost content to simply not move. Thailen, now closer to the undead, could now see the badly damaged insignias on their clothing: Liveria's crest. That answered perhaps why they were so weak... These were likely the witch hunters who came before they did, raised in this form as a mockery to the country and their sacrifice.
They could surmount the hill very quickly now if they chose. Nothing was stopping them at this point.
Royal Blood
Penelope looked at Rayne Walker, the dull look in her eyes quietly fading with each passing word as he easily mesmerized her with his near-perfect acting in regaling the tale of his fake parents, fake loss, and fake empathy. Without warning her lip began to quiver as he finished, her eyes watering up as she fights back her own tears. The Crown-Prince sits in awe for a moment at how suave this man had been. A momentary glance between Rayne and Xavier would quietly tell Rayne that he hadn't managed to get away from the skepticism of everyone in the room. No, the Crown-Prince saw straight through him, but didn't know who or what he truly was. At this point that was all Rayne had going for him, thus, the more he acted in front of the Crown-Prince, the more he would give away over time. Troubling, considering that was his unique talent after all. Still... "I... I'm not sure..." Penelope whispers, seemingly trying to remember what happened.
Xavier then turns to the two women as they bombard questions of all kinds, trying to hit every base at the same time it seemed. He takes a deep breath, and then attempts to summarize each answer as best as he can, though a look of mild irritation was on his face. "Cause of death was two arrows though the bodies were severely charred from fire. Foreign or internal enemies?... More than could possible be counted though most prominently your kingdom." He grimaces. "Most likely it was an assassin for hire. Easier to cover one's tracks that way and we don't exactly lack those around here." He considers her last question for a moment. "Aside from the guards whom have no further knowledge of the situation and don't have the proper education to reach any sort of proper deduction... There was a merchant of death. An Ex-King's Ranger, if I recall correctly, who showed up to help determine if the arrows were poisoned or empowered with magic to burst their victims into flames... He found nothing." He looks through the scrolls which were neatly piled, quickly finding the one on the merchant of death. "Has a shop a few streets away named The Rat Skull Charmé. You could try asking him questions, maybe he will be more cooperative with others working for Renalta instead of my own guards."
It was, at this point, that Jason Drake opened his mouth. What was likely intended as a simply honest series of remarks were not taken well by the recently inducted Crown-Prince. Xavier glares at him icily. "Watch your words. The guards have all sworn oaths of loyalty to Liveria. They would die in a heart beat for Liveria. You will not question their honesty to their king again, as any who would hide information pertinent to this case would be hung in the gallows." He straightens himself out, going back to his rather standoffish and distrusting manner that he was known for. "As for you searching the area, I believe my guards, and the merchant of death, were competent at finding clues. Besides, we know all the entrances, and all the hiding places that you wouldn't know to check... We built them."
It was at this point that Penelope looked between Ceann and Rayne. It seemed she finally remembered something after Rayne warmed her up. "The assassin was a woman... I remember that. Her tone, she said something about...Ghosts... Fulfilling a contract." Her face pales. "...Something about visiting another royal family... The only one anywhere near here would be..." Mikan's eyes open widely as she finishes the thought. "... Renalta." She looks at the rest of the party. "... This just became personal."
The Hunt for Diana
Nadira's question did not go totally unanswered as the dwarf echoed her sentiments. Stodgy and with a large, braided, brown beard, he fit the stereotype pretty much dead on. "Well? Answer the human's question!" He roars as the woman in chain mail and leather shakes her head in dismay and irritation. Still. The one to speak was the shopkeeper. "Ah, greetings... You are the master's apprentice. I am also an... Apprentice, of sorts." The elf states with a near emotionless tone. "The sandstorm has interrupted our plans." He motions to the basement door. "Inside is a path to a large group of underground chasms. Many passages... The answers await you there." The dwarf didn't seem particularly satisfied with that answer, but he shrugged and sighed, looking to the party members. "Name's Stotgar. I trade in steel."
The man in orange doesn't seem to answer, or even speak. He merely walks to the shop keeper, who hands him a few torches. "We also heard of a killer prowling the streets lately, one that has even put the Crescent Sisters on high alert..." The shop keeper states. "Just remember one thing about those caverns... Some mind flayers have recently arrived there. They don't affect vampires so that's why Diana hides there... Diana wishes to see if you have what it takes to reach her."