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Inside the Blacksmith's Shop, Ground Floor - Sailor Thuban, Calintha Johnson and Lieutenant Moonstone

The flask when opened smelled strongly of hard liquor. The red cloth, when unbundled, spilled out a handful of silver medallions all threaded through with string, one smaller than the others, all stamped with the same insignia: a heraldic dragon, rearing, backgrounded by a mountain's peak.

When the flask was poured out on the cloth, it let out a small tink -- like something hard was concealed inside the liquid. When Sailor Thuban presented the alcohol-soaked rag to the fire, it lit, and he had to use it to light the lantern quickly: but the flame took successfully and the lantern flared to life with a quiet whoosh. It appeared there had been oil and a wick in the lantern, after all: maybe not enough to carry it through the night, but enough to carry a steady flame. The lantern had been extinguished, not burned out.

The bear trap was heavy in Moonstone's arms, but slid down into her grasp without a sound: it wasn't attached to a chain at the moment. Next to it on the shelves were the axe and the crowbar, neither as rusty as the trap, both relatively new-looking. The blacksmith was a competent blacksmith, it seemed from the tools arrayed in the storefront. There were, however, no apparent weapons in either the storefront or the back room -- either they had a separate swordsmith, they were an unarmed town (unlikely, as remote as it was) or they kept their arms and armament elsewhere.

The windows in the storefront were shuttered. They were not at risk of being seen unless they brought the lantern to the window, or being heard, they could guess, unless they spoke loudly.

Outside there was a fair amount of conversation. They could see what was going on if they peered through the slats, but not hear.

The sun went down outside. It was now night in Vetrel.

The Town Square -- Sailor Ares, Damon Amary, Sailor Arsinoe and Marx Banesfield

As they spoke the sun sank down behind them. It was an abrupt sunset, wherein the red sun dipped suddenly behind the mountains and the sky was a low-saturation dark blue, with pinpricks of stars just starting to bleed through. Night had fallen over Vetrel, and in front of them some of the hunting party looked over their shoulders at the forest that surrounded them, quickly, while half of them kept their eyes trained squarely on the group of travelers: none of them drew their weapons, but a few let hands fall onto knives at belts and rest on the stocks of rifles. The two men at front peered curiously at Ares, Damon, Arsinoe and Marx and then looked at their companions -- the well-dressed man nodded -- and they all visibly relaxed, the two men at front turning back to address the group.

The hazel-eyed man was young and handsome -- about twenty-five, tall and lean in build. He had jet black hair cut a bit choppily around his face and an alert demeanor, and though he wasn't as tidy and immaculate as the man next to him -- he had dust and stains on his rumpled clothing, not unsurprising for a hunter -- he was arrayed in silver jewellry, a nose stud, earrings, bracelets, and a silver medallion around his neck. He looked tired and a little aggrieved, a sentiment shared by a fair number of the rest of the hunting party.

The well-dressed man was brunette and, though it was hard to tell in the nighttime, had the same black eyes. He was about forty, well-groomed, dressed more like a country doctor than a hunter in a dusty brown waistcoat, an off-white shirt, and practical trousers and hunting boots, with a handful of silver medallions in his hand and a rifle slung over his shoulder.

He was the one who addressed the party, again, when they addressed him about the castle, the baby, and Montrose & Sons:

"I'm afraid you're in the wrong part of the world for a Montrose," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Guests of his Lordship, then?" He didn't look unfriendly -- just skeptical, or perhaps bemused, and he spared a brief look to the child in Damon's arms. "My name is Marius Dragomir. This," nodding to the young man with him, "is my nephew Nicolae. And this is Vetrel. What business brings you here?"

There were howls in the distance, in the forest, and answering howls elsewhere.

[Players in the Blacksmith's Shop are free to continue to examine and manipulate any bolded items they please. Players in the Town Square are free to continue to converse with the members of the hunting party in any manner they wish.]

"I wonder," she mused eyeing the pendants. "Why hide them that way... do you think their to be a secret? The red makes it seem less so, but why not display them, she mused. A rebellion? Trouble makers? Maybe that's why the man with the cart left... Haka, haka, he pointed at the mountains too but...what's it mean-"

She glanced up the ladder into the dark. "Here... may I borrow that lantern?" She asked and took it carefully from Thuban's hand with no apparent sign that she meant to turn arsonist on them.

"Someone -has- to have been here recently don't you think? What with that fire lit... I wonder if they are up there..." she nodded up with her chin keeping her voice low. "I'll go up first..." she added though there was a look of trepidation clear on her face.

She attempted to hook the handle of the lantern over one of the antler prongs, undoing the 'handle' she had made from her headband to try and secure it in place with the thick leather and pulling it as tight as she could with her teeth, She really didn't want to drop it on herself. Then again she didn't want to stick her head up too far and be turned into a 'wac-a-mole' or worse, god knew that could very well be where someone WITH a weapon was hiding.

if She sucseeded in securing the lantern she would then attempt to remove her coat and drape it more lightly over the other side of the antler to give it a human appearance and would then carefully try to climb the ladder one handed pushing the antler up before her to try and trigger any traps or attacks that might be waiting.

Damon looked sour that the man did not recognize the name, Montrose, letting out an aggravated sigh. "We found ourselves in the forest. And then I found this kid," at this he glanced down at the baby and then back to Marius, "on top of a tree." It sounded as though Damon still didn't believe the circumstances that came about that resulted in the kid in his arms.

"All I know is that it's wearing a cross that says Montrose & Sons." The boy went on to explain. "I'm trying to find who the kid belongs to." So that he didn't have to hold it any longer and concentrate on finding Delphine.

Normally night falling wasn't any concern of his. He generally liked the night and was well prepared for it. One hand patted his side where the lantern should have been absently once again in a vain hope that it would return to him. He still didn't like the idea of being out anywhere, even more so somewhere that others said was dangerous, without his trusty weapon.

As the others spoke to the two gentlemen he sighed. Dragomier definitely sounded like the sort of name belonging to someone you didn't want to run into out at night. His mind wandered for a moment to the copy of Dracula he had at home. If only that had somehow come with him maybe he could have used it as an instruction manual for how not to piss off superstitious locals.

Fidgeting slightly, it was starting to hurt his feet to be standing for so long after trumping through the forest, he kept his eyes on the medallions. Maybe they had an inscription or something that would give him a clue as to what was going on.

Inside the Blacksmith's Shop, Loft - Lieutenant Moonstone and Calintha Johnson

Bringing the lantern had been a wise decision, as away from all streetlights and windows the loft was dark. At first glance, there was one bed, slept-in -- a bed modern eyes would call something between a "full" and a "queen" size -- a table and chair with a hat resting on the table, and a dark pile of straw and cloth in one corner. Any more information on any of these things would have to be gathered with a closer examination using the lantern.

There were voices and footsteps from outside. People were coming closer to the shop, but the two in the loft wouldn't be visible from the ground floor -- if they found some way to cover their lantern, anyway.

Inside the Blacksmith's Shop, Ground Floor - Sailor Thuban

As Moonstone and Calintha took the lantern with them, Thuban was returned to the light from the furnace as his only illumination -- a warm, flickering glow.

The medallions were as they first appeared -- silver, dragon-stamped, one smaller which was identical but about half the size of the others. The coins, however, were arrayed in Thuban's cloak and did not resemble the medallions in the slightest. Almost all of them, about thirteen out of fifteen, were unrecognizable foreign coins emblazoned with the profiles of people neither of them knew and writing in a language neither of them could understand, but which did not feature the words "Vetrel," "Haka," or anything else they could remember being said by the people.

However, two were different: a coin stamped with the face of a woman in a crown and veil and captioned, VICTORIA DEI GRATIA; and a slightly less skillfully made coin with the head of a different woman wearing a laurel wreath and the words IN GOD WE TRUST.

The reverse of these coins produced a heraldic shield and REGINA FID DEF BRITANNIARUM; and an eagle encircled by UNITED STATES OF AMERICA QUARTER DOLLAR, respectively.

Alcohol dripped onto Thuban's hand and then something fell out into it: a tiny vial, filled with black liquid.

There were voices and footsteps from outside. There were no real hiding places on the ground floor.

The Town Square -- Sailor Ares, Damon Amary, Sailor Arsinoe and Marx Banesfield

Marius Dragomir no longer exchanged glances with the rest of his party, having stepped forward to converse with the four strangers, considerably more at-ease and flashing them the occasional smile when they said something -- particularly Sailor Ares, whose manners (and story that actually made sense to him) seemed to have promoted her to "party representative" in his mind.

The rifle over his shoulder was a well-made lever-action hunting rifle, relatively new, likely to be about a .30-caliber. It was a pity none of them knew more about guns.

He put his hands out in the universal gesture for, That's all right. "Our hospitality is free of charge to travelers who brave these roads. It is -- a very long way, from England," he gave Ares a sympathetic smile, "Miss Eirene? I am sorry we have greeted you in such a -- rude state. We have just returned from a hunt."

None of the hunters looked like they carried any game, and Marius glanced back at them.

"Game," he said, "is scarce in the woods in these days."

He held out his arm for Ares to take, as if offering to lead her somewhere. With his other he pocketed the medallions and made a gesture to the hunting party, which promptly dispersed save himself, Nicolae and two other men. A few of them headed to the axe building on the other side of the square.

"I'll take you to lodgings," he said. "Surely you must be hungry and tired. And then we can find the owner of this child, how does that sound?"

[All players in the Town Square please roll a die between 1 and 10 and post it in your next post, though the results of this will not become apparent immediately. Otherwise, feel free to take the same kinds of actions you've been taking all this time with respect to the hunting party.]

She gave a reassuring smile to Thuban before turning to follow Moonstone. "Its alright." On a second thought, she turned and grabbed the 'To Vetrel' sign that she had set on the counter, bringing it up the stairs with her. Once upstairs she looked at everything around her.

"I'm pretty sure these roses are Tartaros playing with my nightmares." She looked sour at the thought of it, trying desperately to ignore the roses all together. Calintha took Moonstones leather coat when it was offered, tucked the sign under her arm, and followed her to the straw pile and cloth, covering the light of the lantern and directing it with the coat. It actually worked pretty well, keeping the pair close together. When they got close, she knelt down low to the ground (still keeping the lantern covered), looking intently at the straw pile and trying to see what was there.

The sound of voices made her pause though. "Moonstone...Moonstone! There's someone outside." She looked down towards the loft stairs, keeping her voice as quiet as possible, but it still sounded urgent and strained. "We should be quiet." She whispered into the other girls ear. Calintha was worried. It would look SO bad if they were caught in someone's house and shop, snooping around. "If we are caught, we should say that I was sick and we were looking for water." It was the only thing her mind could come up with that even sounded plausible.

It bothered Ares that the townspeople had guns, and she had nothing, save a few switches left tucked in her waist ribbon. Her powers were gone too. If there was an opportunity, she fully planned on arming herself with more than a handful of sticks. Perhaps those in the axe building were having more luck on that end. Would Calintha think to take a weapon? Ares didn't know. Hopefully, Moonstone would. Was that even a good idea? The Nega would sooner trade all their lives to save her own skin, Ares was sure of it.

When Marius offered hospitality and his arm, Ares smiled a little wider. Inside, she was not so enthused. The crow said to get out of the darkness, and she was. But what darkness waited ahead? "There is glory in the hunt, nothing to apologize for. I saw a dead stag on my way here, a few miles in that direction. There might be game around those parts, perhaps?" She gestured toward it. She meant what she said. Ares was a hunter at heart -- just a hunter of people. Mostly those people who opposed her court.

Like Moonstone.

Gingerly, she slipped back into her bracelets and then, even more gingerly, linked her arm around Marius's. "Thank you for the hospitality." It was odd to be so close to him, but refusing his gesture would have been rude, possibly offensive. "I'm actually not from England. I just speak English, like you." She smiled again. She really did not want to be disliked by this man who seemed to be in a position of power.

Magenta eyes flickered to the men moving toward the axe building. She had seen the others go in there. If these men found them by surprise, it could put the entire group's purpose for being here in hot water. If they were honest travelers, why would they snoop? Ares tried to head off that shock.

Leaning in toward Marius, she said, "Oh, if they are heading in that direction, there was another with us, maybe a few. I don't know them all, I can't recall. If they see someone, will they send them back to us? Sorry, there was just a wagon driver here when we arrived." Ares was scarce on the details, and vague about the number of people. She just didn't want to be accused of lying to them, or of hiding something.

This was better, right?