A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Calaudrin before departing.

a black robed Silent Reflection have been dismissed.

Camilla, Luigi, 5 House Mazetti Guardians arrive, following Hadrian.

Jessamine, the innocuous shop girl arrives, delivering a message to Cambria before departing.

It is midnight. Many and more people are tucked safely away at home, in their beds. Of course, Arx never sleeps, not truly. There are Iron Guardsmen and Knights of the Silver Order on duty; there are Mercies and other physicians tending the sick and the wounded; there are the Hoods of the Inquisition, relentless in whatever it is they pursue. There are men and women, too, both noble and not, who cannot sleep or will not sleep for any multitude of reasons. Here tonight, however, those gathered are awake because they have come to witness that which Mysterion had promised to be a truly singular moment in their lives. Their reasons, of course, are their own.

Within the Shrine of the Thirteenth there stands an ebon chest. From whence it came or just when it arrived, few souls knew. It had been securely locked for many days, though rumors spread that a Mirrormask would come and go from it, depositing a plethora of curious items...though no one ever got a good look at what they were. Naturally, the Silent Reflections that tended the shrine had little and less to say about it.

Mysterion himself was, perhaps oddly, currently working alongside one such Silent Reflection himself. He appeared to be absorbed in his task, and though there was no face to see, given his choice of mask, Mysterion seemed to exude an air of gentleness and calm. Strange though he may be, as most Mirrormasks are said to be, in this moment? He looked and felt the part of a proper priest. A shepherd to a flock.

Twin figures enter the long dark corridor this evening in black robes, both wearing mirrormasks although one has their right arm as a silver engraved gauntlet and the other's mirrored hands are within gloves. Gold eyes stare from the Dark Reflection mask of stygian as it directs the looming Silent Reflection with it to stand nearby. A tilt of the head is given towards Mysterion as the Dark Reflection mirrormask stands near the front by the altar.

Despite having recovered some of the items in the chest, Calaudrin remains skeptical and unhappy. But yet, he shows up anyway. He moves to the front of the shrine and sits down, leaning his elbows onto his knees and watching with one arched eyebrow.

Saedrus arrives to the shrine in glimmering gold and ebony silks-- perhaps he's been tending to the Shrine of the First Choice even at this late hour, before something caught his attention enough to leave his duties and come down the way. The Whisper's steps are soft in silk sandals, and his long white hair has been braided back in intricate loops for the summer night, resting over his shoulder. A very strange set of prayer beads are played between his fingers, like an old habit, but they just don't seem right-- they look, sullied almost. Evergreen eyes cast across the mirrored walls of the Shrine, considering the masked few, but it's Calaudrin that Saedrus' attention falls on. He steps through quietly, head dipped to the likes of the Dark Reflection and Mysterion the apparent priest.

The Guardians form a group around the Marquis, though Hadrian can be heard from amidst the larger, armored figures stating aloud, "You know I have a sword too? You don't *need* to protect me like some princess walking through the Lower Boroughs. Really though, you all act like you were separated from me for years and years. You're clingier than some lovers," the Marquis says in exasperation at the guards which travel with him. Though upon marching briskly into the shrine proper, the banter concludes and somber silence falls over Hadrian as he marches onward within the bounds of his corral of steel, robes, and masks that are the Guardians of...well, it's hard knowing. Soon enough Hadrian comes to a halt however upon spying Mysterion behind not-creepy. That seems to draw a contemplative look from the former Duke of Southport while he considers the actions with genuine interest.

"Ah," breathes Mysterion, after nodding to the Dark Reflection that had come to stand beside the altar. "The little painter. I see him in your shadow," said as he glides towards Saedrus. "This is as it should be. I see you did not come unprepared. Very good. I shall explain much shortly." The flat, featureless mask of stygian swings towards Calaudrin, and simply holds there for a moment. Staring.

Though it is impossible to see his eyes.

"There we are, our final sheep. Duck? Some of these euphemisms escape me, I confess." His long fingered, milk-pale hand flitters within the air in a dismissive fashion before he turns towards the altar. "Brother," said to the Dark Reflection. "If you would assist me, please, let us lay upon the altar the items that have been gathered." Here he turns back towards Saedrus and says, "Those beads, too, if you would. All is to be laid bare tonight, before I send you on."

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask dumps an ebonized black wooden chest with carvings and spills its contents all over the floor.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask nods, "Of course." says the smooth voice from behind the mask to Mysterion. The large ebon chest is lifted by two of the Silents, and the lid is unlocked and removed. Each item is taken out one by one, the rather ordinary yet unordinary objects placed upon the ancient altar by the Dark Reflection and Mysterious in a small circle. After the last of the items is laid out, the chest is moved and placed at the front of the altar, the lid returned.

Calaudrin meets the steady stare of a man in a mask whose face he can't see. There's that same stubborn, quiet defiance as earlier. When Saedrus enters the shrine, he finally turns and looks in his direction. A hand is lifted to gesture to him. "I got your message earlier." But apparently not the chance to properly respond to him.

Saedrus might have been just about to speak to Calaudrin, certainly soft lips were parted to do so, when Mysterion's words stall him. Enough that those sharp evergreen eyes catch on the reflective mask, considering it quietly while he turns his wrist smoothly, capturing the beads completely in his fingers. There he holds onto the strange posession, watching the Silents set other bits and pieces to the shrine. "I assumed as much," Saed belatedly responds to Calaudrin, leaning close to the man then.

Hadrian soon finds himself a seat within one of the pews. One leg idly folds across the other and the attached foot begins to found quickly to some unheard tune. Both arms spread out over the back of the pew. The Marquis' chin inclines while he watches and listens, taking all in once again. He doesn't speak purely for the purpose of speaking. He instead allows others to converse and exchange words, while he himself remains watchful and attentive. A sly smile soon begins to etch itself into the far reaches of his mouth and his eyes alight ever so slightly with subdued amusement.

Mysterion look over all the items as they are removed from the chest. Each and every one he touches, as though learning them through tactile sensation as much as sight. A free hand he holds out behind him, awaiting Saedrus to pass him the prayer beads. Meanwhile, his head shakes, and shakes. "This will make things difficult," he murmurs. "Very difficult. To think I had been so bold as to believe I *knew* that all would be collected..." His head swings towards the Dark Reflection at his side, and he whispers something inaudible.

He straightens to his full, rather alarming height, and then turns to face the few that sat within the shrine apart from himself and other members of the Faith. "When we were last together, I said that we were holding a vigil for one that was lost. Lost and unremembered. These items which have been gathered here tonight once belonged to him. Or...are in some way related." He reaches for, and holds aloft, the old locket for them all to see. "Worn around his neck. Inside was a tiny portrait of his daughter, whom he loved dearly. It was ripped from him in a frenzy. Blood spattered the portrait, and rotted it." The locket is set down. He then points to the broken bottle. "Only one of this vintage was ever brewed. Strangling Willow. They gave it to him. It left him immobilized, unable to cry out. Neither for help nor in pain. And he was very much in pain..." The bell, now, taken and given a single ring, which echoed, and echoed, louder and louder until it was almost unbearable--

Mysterion held his hand over it, and blessed silence returned. "The bell, to summon the conspirators that lurked, just outside the door," pointing now to the prayer beads. "While the priest administered the poison." Faster now, the key and the note. "It opened the front gate, allowed them in, those who were one his friends. He gave it willingly, but to his peril. And the note, the note," he passes his hand over it, and the faded scribbles revealed themselves as they once were: We wait, as we are bidden, but such is our hunger. Such is our hunger. "The cloak, because they had no faces of their own. The knife that sliced his flesh away, so that they might make..." A snap of his fingers, and the candle alights. The scent of roasting meat is nauseatingly strong. "This. Nothing was wasted, my friends. Nothing. Even this bone, picked clean as they ate him alive, has been engraved with foul markings." He holds it aloft for all to see, like a morbid sceptre.

"Are you presenting us with evidence from someone's murder?" Calaudrin asks now, looking up from his quiet conversation with Saedrus now that the dramatics have quieted.

Hadrian's hands move to his ears as the bell begins to ring. Louder and louder and louder and louder. As it reaches the high point in the clanging sound, Hadrian's teeth bare and press together. He stares at Mysterion as though to silently chastise the man for the action, but knowing the man likely couldn't be chastised, Hadrian simply settles back into his seat on the pew and returns to watching in silence. Though as Mysterion's tale begins to unfold, subdued horror seems to foster onto the Marquis' features as he quietly whispers the words, "..ate him alive..?" Finally Hadrian's attention snaps across to regard Calaudrin, briefly the Marquis' eyes dance around the Iron Guardsman, likely searching for Rat and Roach, before returning to Calaudrin.

Considering the hand turned back towards him, then the beads in his hand, Saedrus' lips purse with a sharp, shrewd sort of look. In a delicate motion, long fingers allow the beads to drip through his grip to Mysterion's palm. Hesitant by the last to let it fall completely, but it does. He considers the story, and very nearly wrinkles up his nose for the ringing of the bell-- if he were any less of a graceful creature he might have let it. The look briefly returning for the mention of being eaten alive. Ew. Saedrus looks to Hadrian at the Marquis' echoing of his own thoughts. For the time being though, he keeps quiet, and simply watches.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask listens and watches near Mysterion as the story is unfolding to the Chosen. Whatever is shared between the Mirrormasks isn't revealed. A glance is given to Saedrus, Hadrian and Calaudrin by the gold eyes, studying their faces for a moment.

Hadrian rises up from his seat on the pew and begins to meander his way toward Calaudrin to lean aside, bringing himself slightly closer to the Iron Guarsman so that the Marquis may quietly mutter a comment or question.

Saedrus, like the good Whisper he is, bows elegantly --though subtly considering circumstances-- as Hadrian approaches where he and Calaudrin have set up. A soft, quiet greeting offer, but his attention soon turns back towards Mysterion and the Dark Reflection.

Hadrian checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 4 higher.

Saedrus checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 14 higher.

Calaudrin checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 6 higher.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 14 higher.

Calaudrin is frowning at the burning candle before his attention is stolen away by Hardian. He tips his head in the others direction and listens before quietly replyin back.

Saedrus checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 17 higher.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask checked luck at difficulty 5, rolling 5 higher.

"I am, but more than that," Mysterion assures Calaudrin confidently. "You will be taken to the victim." Mysterion gives all the items a final look over, but of what the Mirrormask felt, none could know but he. "The one that brought the prayer beads, if you would step forward, please," Mysterion says as he holds out his hand to Saedrus. "There is something I would show you. Each of you, in fact, but in the proper order." Which he only knew, clearly! "Walk with me to the back of the shrine."

Saedrus draws the braided length of his hair from one shoulder to the other, permitting the shorter lengths of his bangs to fall across his features as some small conversation continues between himself, Calaudrin and Hadrian. The mention of the beads gets him looking to Mysterion, seemingly without hesitation, he takes the offered hand to be lead away. "I still do not know who you are," he notes in that soft Lycene drawl, "in trade, I am Saedrus. What am I to see?" the last a little more-- warily curious. I mean, this is hardly being whisked off behind the bleachers, is it?

"What you are meant to see," Mysterion replies in a completely enigmatic manner. "I am Brother Mysterion. You are one of the Chosen, and I am to be your guide."

"How helpful." Saedrus response in a quip and a little sigh, following Mysterion's lead still.

"Of course you are." Calaudrin leans back in the pew and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's a good position to just continue talking to Hadrian and Saedrus. That is until the Whisper is being led away on his portion of the mystical adventure.

Hadrian considers Saedrus as he's led away, but again the Marquis leans aside to quietly remark to the Iron Guardsman, "Have you tried Third Wall brandy?" Already the Marquis is reaching toward one of the Guardians, who obediently holds a flask out for Hadrian to retrieve. He passes it aside to Calaudrin, while Hadrian continues discussing matters in a quieter tone. While Saedrus is led away, Hadrian's bright harlequin green eyes continue to follow after the Softest of Soft Whispers.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask continues watching Saedrus, Hadrian and Calaudrin as Mysterion leads the first away.

It's ebony and gold silk to be followed as Saedrus leaves towards the back of the shrine, to consider the great mirrors looming before him. If the courtier can be see, he appears to tension through his shoulders and down along his spine; standing straighter, and sharper all the of the sudden. What can be heard though is a gentle, perplexed, "how--" and Saedrus looks first to Mysterion-- then some gasped, swallowed shriek like he'd been grabbed up! Eep!

Saedrus appears to pulled through the wall. He simply disappears. Mysterion calls out, "Good Brother, Dark Brother! You are next. Saedrus will no doubt be in need of your wisdom." The Mirrormask is not at *all* perturbed by what has just occurred before their very eyes.

Hadrian checked composure at difficulty 35, rolling 11 lower.

"Hm," Hadrian hums within his throat and chest without energy or enthusiasm at Saedrus' sudden disappearance. There's a suddenly sobered nod of his head before the Marquis glances aside to the nearby Guardians and then back to Calaudrin. Another nod is given, more to himself than the Iron Guardsman, as though Hadrian were coming to some decision, "Yes. Yes. I do believe that I'm out. I just remember that I've lost a dog for about five weeks now that needs finding."

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask is called, and with that the robed figure follows the call of Mysterion to the back although a mirrored hand is gestured to one of the looming Silents to stay behind. "May He guide." is all he says

"You know? I think I'll go find one of those Hoods. I bet they'd be suuuuper interested in this," Hadrian remarks aside to Calaudrin as the Marquis rises up to his feet. He gestures the Guardians to fall into step as he begins to make his way for Shrine of the Thirteenth's exit. Allegedly bound to find an Inquisitor or a dozen of them to come have tea or make someone disappear. Or both.

The doors to the Shrine refuse to yield.

"What the fuck." Calaudrin immediately stands up and then looks to where Saedrus has gone. "Yeah, go do that." He agrees when Hadrian says he's going to find some hoods. Then he's trying to cross the shrine in time to get to where the other man has /disappeared/ to. "Where did he go? Bring him back /now/." He demands.

Hadrian pauses at the doors, looks to the Guardians, and then back to the doors. He tries to rattle them, but even that proves impossible as they simply do not move. Hadrian's hands go into the air and the Marquis of House Mazetti can be heard loudly proclaiming, "*Fine*! Let's do this!" Stupidity perhaps, desperate bravery, or an annoyed desire to overcome a challenge just to be spiteful. So very many possibilities. Hadrian sets off at a march for the back wall before a hand lifts and suddenly the cheerful and soft-spoken Marquis' voice booms out, "Let's get through there and find our Whisper. He's much too pretty to be put in danger. Let's go... what are you, anyway?" Hadrian asks of Calaudrin, "Lieutenant? Lord-Captain-General? Or shall I just make up a title for you since that's the fashionable thing to do for duchesses the world over?"

Mysterion only stops Calaudrin short of getting too near the Dark Reflection facing his own self. He stands, somehow, taller than before, his arm outstretched to prevent Calaudrin bulling past. "On the Other Side. You too, shall be there momentarily." His head lolls upon his shoulder, strangely boneless. He appears to be looking to the Marquis. "You all made the choice to move forward tonight. Choices have consequences, and some of them cannot be so easily reversed. By his Dark Blessing, we shall be held here 'til the dawn."

"A lieutenant." Calaudrin drawls to Hadrian and breathes out slowly when Mysterion stops him. The man is much taller than him, but it doesn't stop him from taking another step forward and looking up at the man. Noticing the boneless way that his mead moves on his shoulder. The doors are locked and there's currently no way out, so the only way forward seems to be well, this.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask moves into wherever he does and pauses as something speaks to him on the other side. Gold eyes narrow behind the mirrormask of the Third as he watches what is before him, a glance behind a shoulder to Hadrian and Calaudrin behind him who scramble. He looks back to the figure that speaks to him on the other side and he says, "The offer was made a very long time ago, the price paid yet the debt remains bound for lifetimes. They are what they are...they haven't been shown the truth...yet. It will shatter their perceptions, but are they ready?" speaking about the others to this thing he speaks to. He's silent for a bit, the mirrored hand is offered palm up to the thing. "We're here to retrieve and set right a wrong to maintain the balance."

A ghostly, "Yessss," is heard to mutter throughout the shrine in response to the Dark Reflection's statement.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask steps through the gateway to the back, moving on to the otherside.

Mysterion lowers his arm, allowing Calaudrin to pass.

Calaudrin stares darkly at Mysterion before looking over his shoulders to the door. "Fuck my life." Then he follows after where the others have gone. What a terrible, terrible idea this is.

"Oh fuck no- I'm not doing any paperwork-" And he's gone.

Which leaves only...the former Duke of Southport, alone with Mysterion. He gestures towards the back of the shrine, saying nothing.

The disembodied hiss of a voice seems to draw a sudden sneer to Hadrian's features. Where he seemed passively determined and his usual neutral self before, now venom seems to have taken root in his expression. Slowly his head shakes and quietly the Marquis remarks toward Calaudrin, "Yes, I think someone needs to talk to the Hoods, indeed. After this. After we get our people back." Hadrian's hand moves to rest two fingers across the curved handle of his rapier, though he does not work to draw the weapon. He simply nods toward Calaudrin's back, as if to bid him to step forward before himself, though Hadrian's furtive shuffling speaks as evidence of his readiness to follow. Calaudrin steps forward and disappears. Hadrian steps forward and remarks with a mutter, "'Oh, we can't understand why the rest of the Compact looks at us unfavorably', said every mirrormask ever." Hadrian spares a glance toward Mysterion whom the former Duke considers for a moment before he remarks, "If I don't come back? Punch yourself in the throat for me, would you, please?" And forward Hadrian steps without further remark.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Calaudrin before departing.

Hadrian stares ahead and suddenly the scowl turns into an indignant smirk. Though he suddenly bites back with snapping words, "You think I didn't consider that? I considered it a lot, actually. Her and the one who used her contract to change things. You..." Hadrian huffs aloud and he almost seems ready to take a step back from the mirrored wall before he states with a suddenly stiffened spine and jaw, "My plans were falling expertly into place and have continued to do so, even after *she* happened..." and then Hadrian's arm thrusts forward and he's pulled into the mirror.

Saedrus checked mana at difficulty 10, rolling 1 lower.

Calaudrin checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Hadrian checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 6 lower.

The Mirrored Lands are not...exactly what one may have expected. The land is naught but rolling hills of grey. The sky is pewter, and hanging low and heavy is a fat red moon. The group is once more gathered together, standing atop one such hill, with a faint wind stirring their clothes and hair. Much like that vision, which now feels to have come into their minds so long ago, there is the sound of digging at the hills base. In the far distance stands a tall black tower, so tall, in fact, its summit cannot be seen through the scraps of iron cloud.

At their feet, the shadows of the group move independently of them. Indeed, they seem to be holding their own conversation amongst themselves, though there is no sound to be heard from them. Nor is the feeble, sickly light from the unnatural moon shining down in such a way that those shadows would even fall in the direction that they are.

Aside from the digging, there comes an audible sucking sound, as of a tight seal being pulled away. Mysterion, their proclaimed guide, has joined them. Yet he is different from before, to those that have the eyes to see him.

Admittedly, Saedrus is a little distracted from seeing anything, or listening to a great deal -- he had time to listen when he was left here by himself. Now, it seems his errant rage is turned on the Dark Reflection. Who knows what transpired, but he's practically hissing with an arc to his shoulders; and if he were any sort of cat that white hair would probably be fluffed and bristled. "You put me right back on the other side of that mirror!" comes another snarking hiss towards the Dark Reflection-- before he's aware of Calaudrin and Hadrian's appearance. "I want to be out of this awful place!" Whined the whiner.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask holds his mirrored hands within the folds of his black robes in front of him, waiting for the others as he simply stands. But once they're together and their guide is here, the gold eyed Dark Reflection looks to Saedrus and says in a very smooth voice, "No one can make a choice for you when it's your decision to be make. Focus your anger and frustration, use it like a whetstone on the blade of your faith. Remember, there is nothing to fear, the Mirror shows truth if we have the strength to endure it." Mysterion is given a tilt of the head before he moves to follow.

Calaudrin steps through the mirror and looks around, he was muttering something about work and Silas and paperwork and a few other things as he came through. But now he's focused on the landscape and all the other details. "We're going to leave. We're taking you with us." He clasps a hand down on Saedrus' shoulder only to freeze in place as he looks towards Mysterion. "/Demon/." He hisses.

"I believe we have to earn our return," Hadrian remarks in a dry manner after he's pulled through the mirror. The words are spoken while his attention dances this way and that, taking in their surroundings and the largely bleak landscape. The Marquis' lower lip bulges outward as his tongue passes over the inside of it. The shadows that seem to move independently of their owners draws a frown to Hadrian's expression before he offers a remark to Saedrus, "Stay close to the rest of us. I vote the Lieutenant-General-Wolfmaster. Stay close to him..." Hadrian advises toward Saedrus. He's sent into silence and the color seems to drain from his flesh as Calaudrin's accusation is leveled toward Mysterion.

"You cannot make an /informed choice/ when you are not /informed/." Saedrus bites towards the Dark Reflection, still bristled and angry. "I came here to speak to Master Calaudrin and /now/ look where I am." IN A GREY-BEIGE HELL. BEIGE! Calaurdrin and Hadrian join them and the clasp of a hand to his shoulder seems to break all the anger-fuelled strength in the courtier and his shoulders sag a touch, frowning as he considers Hadrian, then looks towards Mysterion. The frown deepends as he steps a little towards the Iron Guard.

"Demon," Mysterion says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Seraph." For the first time, Mysterion's voice takes on something of annoyed edge, as though venting life to an age old grievance. "For you people, words, like 'holy' or 'unholy,' are as easily exchanged as seats in a gambling den." His arm stretches forward, pointing to the dark tower. "Perhaps you will walk into the truth, though sometimes, the ignorant are rendered more ignorant than ever." His masks shifts, towards Saedrus. "I could have released you, I confess it," he admits. "But we did not collect all parts of the key. Now my power is only enough to bring you into my home. It is through your own strength that you must leave if, when all is through." The way it is said suggests there is a very real possibility they will not leave at all. His head lifts towards the moon. "We must move," Mysterion then declares. Of them all, only the Dark Reflection is given a bow of Mysterion's own head, as though of respect.

"Seraph." Calaudrin repeats, closing his eyes briefly and looking towards the dark tower. "Great. Sure. Lets go into the tower. It's not like there's a door to turn and go through." He looks over his shoulder, just in case there might be!

"How very convenient." HUFF. Saedrus takes a breath and steps forward, openly glaring at Mysterion. "I /will/ go home again. If I have to walk for days in this horrid place, I will. So you had best guide, quickly." He says waiting for Mysterion to lead since, that is what guides do and all. He isn't quite the flawless unflappable courtier he normally is but-- give him a break, he's been sucked through a mirror into a colourless awful world.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask moves with the group as Mysterion begins to lead. While the others are getting irritated, he's thinking behind the mask. "There's doors all around, every step we're taking leads us to a new place." to Calaudrin before asking Mysterion something quietly as the black robes flutter, a mutter between the Mirrormasks.

Hadrian begins to move at a slow pace, his steps careful and testing of the surface in which he stands. A quietly spoken comment from Calaudrin is met by a nod - some silent agreement, it would seem. Though he quietly mutters something back that seems to show doubt in his expression. He asks of Mysterion soon after, "What is our goal? Stop the death? Are we going to see it played out before us and we must stop it? Dig up your pal? Actually, no, let's begin with a fresh line of questioning. Why was he killed? People don't get assassinated for nothing at all. What did he have, that they wanted?"

Mysterion glides forward smoothly, leading the way down the hill. The ground at their feet is that of fine sand, which makes walking somewhat more difficult. At the Dark Reflection's words, Mysterion jabs a finger into the air. "My Brother is right," he declares. "Look around you, truly *look*."

After conferring with the Dark Reflection for a moment, Mysterion clearly appears to consider Hadrian's inquiry. He is silent for what feels a long time, and as they walk, in the near distance is revealed the source of digging: a tall man, withered like a root, yet hard as old hickory. Like the landscape around him, he is stained grey, or perhaps bleached of his color. They are not close enough to genuinely interact with this lone digger, however. At length, Mysterion speaks, "He had Power."

Hadrian checked mana at difficulty 10, rolling 0 higher.

Calaudrin checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask has rolled a critical success!
Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 21 higher.

Saedrus checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 10 higher.

As the company looks around, the pewter sky, or in distances far, there is revealed faint snatches of what appear to be windows into *their* world. A sight of the Sovereign Bridge, a troop of the King's Own marching proudly forth; here people coming and going from the Ambassador Salon; there ships drawing into the bay.

This is not the sort of landscape to be wearing sandals for! Saedrus sinks to the sands, though he doesn't appear to slip or stagger. It's more an annoyance than anything else. For Mysertion's prompt to look, really look, at the world around them-- Saedrus finally does. He sees the shadows playing independant of their motions and his ashen brows furrow a touch. Oh. That's.. not normal. The courtier stalls a little ending up behind the group, lest someone waits, just looking around himself. Awful, colourless, horrid world. "Power comes in a hundred shades," apparently missing colour already, and greiviously. "What sort did he hold? Coin, title, militia?" A beat, "Fear?" caught a moment longer on the glimpses of their world-- of the bridge that would be the passage to his home.. that he could not reach.

Calaudrin does look around, spotting those flashes of different parts of Arx. Of their world. He looks distinctly uncomfortable now and truly seems to want to get moving. When Saedrus falls back, he stops and waits for him until he begins moving again. "Everyone stay together. I don't think it would be a good idea to get seperated here."

Hadrian quietly mutters, "I don't think we're in Arx anymore. Adjacent to it?" The Marquis continues to walk across the unstable ground, eyes wide and attentive to the world around him. It was as though he were witnessing wonders for the very first time, judging by the slight hang of his jaw and widened eyes. Mysterion's answer and Saedrus' follow-up is met by only a faint dip of his chin before he remarks back to Saedrus, "I think his power coursed through him. Why else would he be eaten? Maybe he had like two hundred kids. I've heard of some shav tribes that believe you can eat people to gain their properties. Maybe he was a fertility idol to some."

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask continues walking with them although he pauses just briefly to look over a shoulder watching Saedrus a moment, the gold eyes narrowing just slightly if it's perceived. But something else seems to be catching the Dark Reflection's gaze...something near his feet and he bends down to take something by his black boot with a mirrored hand, setting it in the palm before he stands up to continue walking. "That is one of the best advice you could give, Calaudrin. I've said it too many times; if the people were truly united and focused on one single goal, there is nothing that could stop them. Perhaps if the Chosen are focused, then it isn't just one soul that will be returned." with a nod. "Primum is able to be gathered differently. I'm sure the ancient ones would have been thrilled." as an aside to the ghoulish description Hadrian says.

"The knowledge is yet lost to you, but in ages past there were ways and means possessed by Men that exceeded the abilities you have today," Mysterion continues, his voice calm, much like a tutor speaking to particularly wilful group of children. "There are, indeed, many ways to gather primum. Blood is the easiest, or so it is widely considered. A ritual was performed, this man was eaten, and parts of him were used in other rituals. But those are not pertinent to our task." He comes to a halt, briefly, allowing them all to come together. "Yes, as I have warned, I am not a sure defense against all you may cross paths with here. Our goal is the tower, but come, we reach the Keeper. Stay sharp!"

Saedrus spends a long time just staring in the brief direction the glimpse of the bridge once was. Calaudrin's tone pulls Saed's attention and the Whisper nods stepping off to catch up with the rest. He is quieter now, just a look cast off towards the Dark Reflection and Mysertion in turn. Whatever Saedrus' sentiments on all these things might be, there's nothing clear on his features to show it. He merely follows, quiet and resigned.

Reach the Keeper! Seems easy enough. And since Calaudrin isn't about to throw himself at any etheral portals in the air, he'll go that way. However he does drop back a little, bringing up the rear of their group as they approach whatever their destination is about to be.

Brother Mysterion and the other Mirrormask seem to be the guides or as close to it as Hadrian could ask for. Thus he has little issue with permitting those two to lead the way while Hadrian falls into step behind them, but ahead of Calaudrin. He begins to whistle a merry little tune, which persists for only a second before he silences himself with a grimace. Clearly he wasn't accustomed to wandering into dangerous situations on the regular. One hand lowers to rest atop his rapier, though he does not make to draw it. He travels along after Mysterion for a few paces before he quietly sighs, clearly annoyed at having been ripped from a world of comfort, fine silks, and the various pleasures that one could indulge in. So it that Marquis Hadrian Mazetti asks the age-old, important question...

"Are we there yet?"

Someone wearing A Dark Reflection Mirrormask continues walking with Mysterion, and at Hadrian's comment he says "We've been there the whole time. Look around, there is everywhere and nowhere all at the same....time." before placing whatever was in his palm in a pouch within his robes, his voice goes low to the guide who gives a warning. "Remember we're here to retrieve the soul and bring it back to the Wheel, and don't let your passions rule you, use them instead to benefit this task we've undertaken. Let fear keep your senses frosty, anger and frustration lend you strength to ignore what hurts. The Thirteenth is with us."