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"Yes, witches and warlocks do uses infernal powers to grant them their abilities, and from my experience in uncovering them, will sometimes use herbs and plants as ingredients of sorts," Leront spoke calmly, his tone somewhat distant as the male proclaimed his own thoughts. "However, I pose this question to you- do you know of the lands in which Constantinople is located?"

His eyes glanced back to where Theodora was standing, narrowing somewhat on her as he spoke. "If not, then let me inform you. Constantinople is located in Asia Minor, and is currently governed by Muslims. Though anyone can say, as the Crusades against them have caused quite a bit of confusion from my sources. The city is said to be in ruins."

"Surely, we all know of their teachings. Their denouncement of Jesus Christ, the son of our God. How coincidental that a woman of such origin happened to stay here on the same night of Father Jonathan's death."

The next morning, people woke up, and slowly came downstairs, one by one. It wouldn't be long before everyone was there. Everyone...except one that was. Richard would be noticed to come downstairs especially late.

Should they go up to his room, what they would find would not be pretty. He was there alright, lying on his bed. One would have thought he was sleeping...if it weren't for the fact that the bed under him had been dyed crimson, and there was blood pooling out from under the bed. Upon closer inspection, they would find that there were many round holes in the body.

Of course, they needed to know who did this, and what better way than to get evidence on the dead one. They would search through his stuff...only to find he was indeed, exactly as he had stated...a Blacksmith passing by. He had his tools, but none had blood, and his tools for making fire were obviously not used in the past few days. It appeared he just happened to be an unlucky passerby.


DEAD - Richard Richen - INNOCENT

((NIGHT PHASE 1 IS OVER. DAY PHASE 1 BEGINS NOW, ends on Friday, April 2nd, 9:00PM MST(=8PSR=10CST=11EST). Please get all voting done by then.))

Michael looked at Theodora in shock, this whole talk of bloodshed and murder was too much for the young lad. He turned to Isaac, eyes wide. The boy's chest continued to heave, until he broke into a fit of hyperventilation. He pushed himself away from the table, and moved towards the far side of the room to sob.

The only thing that could be heard was "What monk did...the outsiders kill?...What monk did...the outsiders kill?"

"How convenient that you are the one to find the body," Leront said calmly, his face stoic as his eyes narrowed at the woman he'd accused yesterday. However, shortly after she spoke, the young boy had started a mental breakdown and one of the women was following in his footsteps.

"You'd think the lot of them had never experienced death," he muttered to nobody in particular, standing up from his seat and coldly walked past Theodora toward the guest quarters. It was easy enough to guess which room it had been; some of the more nondescript monks were outside, crossing their chests and saying prayers with their rosaries.

"Excuse me, brothers," he commented politely, stepping through the doorway and into the room, viewing the scene. He would have to examine the body, but from the looks of things, the man had bled to death from wounds... but there was no sign of struggle?

Theodora watched the room's reactions, noting who was gagging and collapsing and who wasn't. Her eyes narrowed as Leront walked by her. Again, with the accusations! And unfounded ones at that! She followed behind the exorcist and returned to the scene. "Yes, well, I thank that 'the lot of them' have not been subjected to some of the horrors that this world holds. Thank the Lord for sparing some of that fate." She looked over the scene. As she had noted earlier, some of the blood had begun to brown. The initial shock had worn off, and she was able to view everything a little more calmly. She took a breath that was shaky on the inhale, but she managed to control the outward flow of air so as to steady her nerves. It was still hard to forget the past bloodshed she had seen. "And how is it convenient for me to find the body, may I ask? If I had committed the crime, why would I want to draw attention to it, especially since you so recently cast doubt upon my honor--and quite wrongfully so?" She bent down to examine some of the late blacksmith's tools, but found nothing.

Standing back up, she walked back toward the doorway and continued loud enough for everyone to hear. "I am afraid that you are wrong on several accounts; you might want to catch up on current events...for Constantinople has always carried the legacy of Rome after its fall; it is the frontier against nomadic invasions from Mongols, Rus, Arabs, and Turks, safeguarding the rest of the civilized world from their subjugation; and it is the protector of the true faith in the Lord our Father and his Son, Jesus Christ." She spun around to face Leront, eyes passionate and full of sorrow. "But we could not protect ourselves...from you. Your warriors, who claim to be followers of God, invaded our city and raped it. Fires burned for weeks. The Crusaders began to break into our churches and strip them of their precious metals, desecrating holy ground." Her voice turned cold. "Even your own Pope disapproved of the 'Crusaders' when he found out what they had done."

Theodora lowered her head to a side for a second, trying to fight the tears. "Can you imagine it? Your whole world, gone in a matter of days? A violent stranger, bursting into your room and knocking you around until you are unconscious? Waking up to an empty room with the body of your brother lying right beside you? I'd like to believe that God intervened and kept the Crusaders away from my purity; either that, or they did not think they would have any fun with a lifeless body. Most of us were forced to flee, having nothing left to carry."

She erected herself and looked the exorcist straight in the eye. "And so I stand here before you, a woman with nothing except for her name; a woman who God has chosen to undergo trial and tribulation so that she may prove her love and dedication to Him and emerge clean of sin in the end. And so, I entreat you, sir, to not be so hasty before you cast the first stone, for you throw it at another like yourself, a sibling in the faith. How are you loving thy neighbor? I have not done the same to you, and yet YOU have a darker mark than I do--you are an exorcist, are you not...?"

While the other two were 'arguing', Nell took the time to search through the room. Mainly, Richard's bag.

The tools were clean and dry, the flint and other fire working tools seemingly untouched. Obviously the man took good care of his stuff, but it was definitely lacking in blood and anything else. Which means they also hadn't been used recently.

Searching more, she found lots of metal, scrap and useful, and a wallet. Opening it revealed coins of money, and Nell frowned at that. That meant something she didn't really want to fully consider.

Leront's call grabbed her attention, and she stood and turned to him. "Besides the fact that his tools were completely clean and clear? He still had his wallet in his stuff. Actually, it looks like nothing of his was touched. Which means he was killed for reasons other than his possessions..."

Nell had trailed off. It meant one of three things, then...but she'd get into them later. "What about you, Leront? Anything? Or you, Miss Theodora?"

Robin stood silently in a corner, arms crossed, as she watched the proceedings. Suddenly, she was deeply regretting having so vociferously identified herself as a bandit. Even if this mysterious killer in the night didn't steal her life away, she could all to easily imagine the others turning on her, the known outlaw. Eventually, she couldn't take the stress any longer.

"Well," she said (snapped, really), "are we going to do something about this? You lot all got a bunch to say but you won't back it up with accusations. I'd like to hear from Inno. The departed (may he rest in peace) accused him yesterday . . . maybe he took his revenge, or wanted to silence him?"

"Not!", she hastened to add, "That I think you're the killer necessarily, sir! I don't know what to think right 'bout now, but I want to hear your account of yourself before I can quite trust you . . . you understand."