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"Society o' eh?"

So very eloquent, of course. Corbin turned his back on the door frame allowing Nines safe passage with a polite enough nod. Odd, perhaps the Irish was ill.

In any case, Corbin would remain there silently smoking and drinking, looking ready enough as he was. He'd wait for Roan to finish with the last two lads as she requested.

A slow count to three, then she nodded to Corbin as the other two left, indicating he should follow her. She did not wish to discuss the particulars of his mission anywhere but her own rooms.


Leading the way upstairs, her hand against a green scanner opened the door, revealing a sumptuous suite, made mundane by the jumble of clothes on the floor, wardrobe hanging open, and paperwork spilling over her desk.
Sitting behind it, and pouring cool vitae from a decanter for them both, she shoved a roll of maps onto the floor to clear a space for a notebook written in an old fluid style of writing.

"I take it you have never heard of the Society of Leopold? Not surprising. I bet you've heard of the inquisition though. Tell me what you think you know."

"Most people think of the Spanish Inquisiton when they hear the word. This was a persecution of non-Catholics by the Spanish monarchs, mostly not as bad as people think, and shorter lived too. It spread in a way to other places, where Jews were displaced to, but all died down eventually.

It is worth noting that the Inquisition was tasked never to spill blood, which is why it is known for such inventive torture methods.


But the real terror of the Inquisition... at least from our point of view... was the Secret Inquisition. And IT... still exists. Care to guess its purpose?"

She was smoking herself as she spoke, the varying tones of her voice indicating personal experience with the subject she discussed.

"They seek and destroy anything inhuman, yes. Us especially included. The vampire is a myth built into the very dna of humankind. A fear as old as time itself."

She exhaled a lungful of smoke, tapping ash into a nearby tray as she pushed the book to Corbin.

"I want you to find out how many are active in Durem right now, and what exactly they are up to and for who. I don't want you to kill or go active unless you have to. Partly so as we do not draw MORE of them here, but mostly... because you have no idea how dangerous they are.

Just as one would not give a three year old a gatling gun, so too do the Society weild faith with reckless abandon. Do you recall the effect your hand had on the back of my neck?"

She brushed her hair aside, showing the finger marks of the hand shaped scar on her body, after their brief encounter at the tavern some months earlier.

"Faith is a horrific thing when used against us, blind faith especially so. I have a scar matching this elsewhere on my body, from the better known time of the Inquisition. It has never faded. It never will."

"That book is my notes. It will impart to you what I know to be true, but is far from comprehensive. Additionally, be aware faith cuts through all we can do. True, they cant outrun celerity, or dull potence, but those who truly believe... and who are inherently suspicious... WILL see through your illusions.

Stick to the fringes. Talk to the initiates, not the masters. Do not take risks, return if the risk increases. You will find them in the centre of town, near to the churches. You will have to figure out who is with them, and follow them to find their base of operations. I do not have that information.


As for Deceit... I cannot say for sure. I believe his attention is elsewhere, for now. If he shows, come back. If he learns his presence causes our operations to flounder, he will hopefully desist."

She shrugged at the last part. One thing she knew for sure was that trying to second guess Ice was always a fruitless endeavour.
She watched Corbin leaf through the book, the old illustrations and notes she;d made... the angry language used in parts, the pain and tiny flecks of blood that was embedded in others.
It was no manual. but it was better than nothing, warning of the touch of the inquisitors, the warped iron structure of their minds, the extremist logic and cruel methods she had experienced.
And the fact that they could be corrupted, if one was patient and sly. And that faith could ebb, if the person was worked right.

"Their eccentricities do tend to veer to things other than fashion. Do not mistake them for mere priests however. Vows of chastity and poverty do not necessarily apply to them. Remember... they grew from the Catholic church.

Good hutning, childe. Stay safe."

Inclining her head, she dismissed him to go on his way at his lesuire. Acquiring props would not be a problem. The house held many things and marvels, mere clothing being an easy one to satisfy.

It was true the house seemed a lot busier, more purpose driven, and that made it easier than usual to grab a member of staff to place a request.
A nod, and the underfootman continued on his way, though he did assure Dagoth the message would be passed on.

True to form, it was a mere 10 minutes before Jan appeared in the lobby, apologising profusely for the wait. Though he looked as neat as ever, the smell of charcoal lingering about him indicated he had likely been cleaning out the armoury.

"How may I be of assistance, sir?"

"Cleaning is my basic order, sir, and the armoury required specific items removing before anyone else sets foot within the confines. It is no trouble."

Speaking calmly, Jan brushed a speck of lint from his lapel, before responding to the rest of what he was asked.

"I promise to abide by your wishes sir, however I believe I will speak for her Ladyship when I remind you all operatives are ordered to return alive, on pain of upsetting her Ladyship. I would hope this order will take precedence."

A smile accompanied the wry comments, but the promise was there. He would do as requested.