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Thankfully, the coat was just long enough to hide most of her sneakers. They were black anyways, so hopefully the modern shoes would be mostly incognito. "You'll look nice in it, I'm sure!" She offered a bright smile to the other girl, watching her slip on the dress over her pants and white top. She was glad to see the senshi pick up the silver sword, seeing as Calintha would not have known what to do with it.

She looked around. "I think we should try and find the others? Its been long enough where the other men would've gone, and I'd like to not get trapped here." She adjusted her hat on her head, making sure it covered most of her hair. All in all, she looked much like a young boy. She'd never been curvy to begin with, and the long coat hid what little she had. She picked up her Vetrel sign, previously left by the bed, and moved to the loft stairs, preparing to go down them when the rest of her team was ready. "You might want to take off your...uh...tiara?" It stuck out like a sore thumb.

A thought popped into her head while she was waiting for Moonstone to be done changing. Calintha looked down at the magical wood in her hands, and asked the sign a question. "Sign, could you show us were to go next?" Hopefully the little arrow on the sign was feeling generous enough to point the way.

Finding the lamp was easily removable he reached out and carefully plucked one from the wall. Even if it wasn't his lamp and it wouldn't be able to do anything special it was still a -lamp- and that meant light and fire should anyone need either. He supposed if either Marius or Nicolae asked he could say he had a thing for lamps or something.

The hunters appearing again would have gone unnoticed by himself if one hadn't personally invaded his space to hang a medallion around his neck. He almost jumped back but figured last second that would probably get him hurt horribly somehow and managed to stay still until the man had left. Nose scrunching slightly he picked up the medallion in his free hand to examine it. The hunting party had warn them eariler and maybe now he could get a good look at them. Silver and for their protection. The only thing he could think of that silver protected against was werewolves.

His pursuit of the medallions was interrupted however by Sailor Ares' grabbing his arm and tugging him along with her in her invasion of the kitchen. He squeaked slightly as he was tugged off balance but after her warning kept his mouth shut on any protest that she shouldn't be touching him like that.

"Yes, i'm really glad to be inside" It was easier to defend yourself in a building with sturdy walls than out in the open. He listened to her and nodded before she released him and paused in the doorway between the main room and the kitchen.

"I, we, Marx and I met a man in the forest who warned us of the same thing. He said to beware of the wolves that would be hunting tonight." He tapped the medallion absently hoping she'd get the hint about the werewolf idea and anyone watching would think it was an unconscious movement "He said something else too. He said if we made it to Vetrel to mention ... what was the name .... Anton Mironescu. He said to give someone his regards. I should tell Marius that when he returns. Since he speaks English" He tried to keep his voice down but not so low it seemed like he was whispering. Just a quiet tone that he hoped to anyone spying on them would take as a quiet conversational tone.

With that he headed back out to the main room, leaving Ares in the kitchen so he could do what she'd asked and see if anyone else had found out anything.

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

The sign seemed content to hang in one place, spinning idly, so perhaps it wasn't a valuable member of their party just this moment. It did occur to them that if they wanted to leave Vetrel (though with the distant howling, that seemed like a bad idea just now) it might be useful as a compass, however. But it didn't seem like anyone was returning to this building for a while.

The clothing came on without much fuss, leaving them a group of three who could be mistaken approximately for a group of Victorians in the dark --- or two Victorians and one Victorian wearing a cowboy hat, anyway, but that was more odd than it was anachronistic. There was nothing in the pockets or the seams. The dress was a little tight even on Moonstone's frame, but fit: such was Victorian fashion.

The papers, on the other hand, were a loose bundle of about seven or eight sheets, written in two different hands. One seemed to be a diary, written in a proper sort of cursive:

... I read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very interesting. (Mem., I must ask the Count all about them.) ....

Then a very neat, tidy log in businesslike print:

... I questioned him more fully than I had ever done, with a view to making myself master of the facts of his hallucination. In my manner of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness, a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell.

(Mem., Under what circumstances would I not avoid the pit of hell?) Omnia Romae venalia sunt. Hell has its price! If there be anything behind this instinct it will be valuable to trace it afterwards accurately, so I had better commence to do so, therefore… ...

They were disguised, armed, and had a lantern -- they could read on and learn more. Otherwise, the ladder and the front door remained available.

The Shuttered Building - Sailor Ares, Damon Amary, Sailor Arsinoe and Marx Banesfield

The kitchen was bare and bare of cooking utensils, strangely so for a kitchen -- plain, s**c and span. The impression they were getting was that the building had had more rooms before, possibly, and all had been knocked-down or repurposed except for this small kitchen. The door that led to it was strangely heavy-duty, and seemed as light- and soundproof as the front door.

The one notable feature of the kitchen was that it featured an unshuttered glass window, about big enough for a person to climb through.

The paintings were as they were -- except it was becoming more and more clear that the man was the same man, because what sort of family resemblance over the centuries was so exact? But that was impossible. The older paintings were clearly older, not just done in an older style, and the photograph was a photograph.

He smiled at them, goblet in hand.

The medallions were silver, stamped with the insignia of a dragon over a mountaintop, and not inscribed with any writing.

Again, they felt that strange pulse through their blood again, a warm hum. Stronger this time.

They were completely sound- and lightproofed from the outside world.

It occurred to them that if anything were going on outside, they'd have no warning.

His attempt to do what Sailor Ares had asked was stopped as he felt the strange pulse in his blood again. He had ignored it before as a simple sign of apprehension at having a stranger get that close to him but this time he couldn't ignore it. It was stronger and it wasn't just nerves. He was well versed in what nerves felt like and this most certainly wasn't it.

Shifting his grip on the lantern he attempted to pick up the medallion and was confused as it constantly slipped through his fingers. He wasn't a klutz and he didn't have anything slippery on his fingers and that wasn't right.

"Can you ..." He turned back to the kitchen to see Ares make the same fumbling attempt before her attention was turned to the small window. Obviously no she couldn't get it off either and that didn't make him feel any better. His fingers tightened around the lamp he'd picked up eariler as if somehow the lamp would save him.

Wait. Window!

"Um ... why does that window not make me feel safe?" He inched back into the kitchen and hoped he could get her attention and not yell at her. Having a window that someone could slip out of, or into, in a building like this wasn't right. It couldn't be -that- easy to escape if someone didn't want you too. It seemed much more like an entrance for something. Something that you probably wouldn't want to meet.

The paintings were really starting to creep him out now. More so that photograph, what with the way the man pictured seemed to just be looking out at them in the room like that. Yep, very creepy. It would have been all fine and dandy to stare right back though, if Marx didn't notice that medallion give that weird feeling again where he couldn't just ignore it and say that it's just nerves.

Seeing the room mostly empty, save for Damon by the door, Marx joined Ares and Arsinoe in the kitchen. Did you just?" He stops a moment, watching them mess with the medallions, trying to lift them off and failing. What? Weird. Whatever, paintings first then the creepy pulsy-vibe. "Did you see the paintings in there? They really look like they're the same guy, but that's impossible right?" He asked, perhaps a little too hopefully that it's just a trick of his eyes seeing the similarities that were there.

"Well excuse me for wanting to make sure I'm not going crazy with seeing the same dude in those things when this place is really creepy enough." Marx found himself feeling the need to take personal offense to the attitude, even if arguing was probably the least smart thing to do in their situation.

Though he did seem to think one thing over. He had seen those switches tucked in Ares' sash, and rather than provoke her to be hit with them.. he had seen how mean some girls could get, from a nice safe distance thankfully, he does return to the other room and over towards the fireplace. That should be a safe distance from her immediate wrath. Maybe there was something lying by it or on the mantel that could be of interest. And not as weirding-out as the paintings had been.

He didn't know what to make of all this. First, a baby found in a treetop with a cross around its neck that said Montrose & Sons. Now they were given silver medallions, with a dragon on it. What did this all mean? Was there any link at all?

He too, tried to take the medallion off, but it was impossible, no matter how hard he tried and Damon soon gave up. The feeling the medallion was giving him was queer however, and he could not shake that ominous prickling on the back of his neck. It bothered him, and he didn't know what else to do.

The rest went into the kitchen, leaving him to look up at the paintings casually. He didn't think too much about it. Perhaps it was a hobby of this man in the painting, going to extents to depict himself in a different style? Damon did not know. He did not particularly care.

Instead, his gaze rested on the decanter of wine on the table. He picked it up and poured the wine into a glass, then picked the glass up, staring at it as he swirled the red liquid around. He had no interest in drinking it (wine was bad for your liver and Damon was not about to harm his body), but a sudden thought had occurred to him.

What if he dipped the medallion in the wine? He could probably chalk this silly action up to boredom; there was nothing else to do.

He lifted the medallion hanging from his neck and attempted to drop it into the glass of wine. Perhaps it wouldn't fit, but then again, it might. He didn't even look up when Marx re-entered the room.