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Time Stone: Acquiesce

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Port Kyros

The Docks - Boarding The Peregrine

It hadn't been long since the Hyperion Empire expanded within the borders of the Rising West. Though as it had, it made granting favors to close friends that much easier; likewise lucrative. Though he'd never made a habit of it before, one Xartia Pendragon deigned himself worthy of asking the Empress Raveena for such a thing. He request was an easy one to comply with, a vessel. While their were more efficient crafts to be used to get to where they'd be going, Xartia was certain the sea was their best bet. Thanks to the Empire's relations with the Nymerians, they needn't worry about the safety or severity of the oceanic waters. Not only did this maximize their time to prepare, though this was how they best stood the chance of arriving at their location undetected. He had plenty of explaining to do, and considering his own thoughts and feelings, it wouldn't surprise him if those he asked to assist him in investigation a mere hunch decided to change their minds. Failure was a last resort, though being discovered was the highest risk. Enslavement, death...Either way, one had to be willing to risk their life to embark on this journey with this Magician. 

There he was, pacing back and forth; His feet clapping dully across the planks of wood, his face the result of his racing mind. He'd already come to terms with the risk her was taking, and decided that the risk was well worth it. It was a confusing time for him, accepting something that wasn't necessarily to benefit himself. To risk it all for a none necessity, but for somebody important....For something he considered important. His underlying purpose mattered not though, all that mattered was that he wished to find an incredibly rare artifact; The value of which was infinitely priceless. Via the likes of scrying and divination, the Cambion had narrowed down the location of one of those infamous Cornerstones. He hypothesized that one was either in Stonehaven, or most likely Antigone. That one most likely either being the Time Stone, or the Reality Stone. Either way, it's value was limitless. There was no doubt in his mind that these Stones were potentially the most powerful items in Genesaris. Even if they weren't the most powerful, he was willing to wager that they were powerful enough to wish none of the stones ended up in the wrong hands.

At least this adventure would prove as a proper and thorough testing of the usefulness and the integrity of his suits. Any day now he'd get over his nervousness and formally open his shop to the public. This trip may or may not reassure his stance on his suits and their usefulness. So long as they decided to travel with him, Xartia had taken the liberty of designing a suit for each member of the team. Something neutrally compatible, and universally useful. Despite the additional perk of each suit which varied, they all shared the common trait of suppressing the signature of one's aura. Though it couldn't suppress the signature of a cast spell or the likes there off, it was fully capable of masking their magical ability to the likes of machines or fellow arcane sensitive persons. Where they were going they would need it, and once they were all finished, they could keep the suits should they decide to. The one he wore didn't seem like anything special, even with the sunset on the horizon. A White shirt, half buttoned with its tail tucked into his black slacks. A matching black jacket, and freshly polished black dress shows. A closer inspection would prove more beneficial, the most noticeable accessory on his person being the polished gemstones that had been cut into the buttons that made up his jacket and shirt in the least. 


@Voldemort @Malintzin @The Courier

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Artamese had no idea what to wear on these types of things.

None whatsoever!

She had received an Imperial summons from the Empress and quickly left the safety and comfort of her Kyrosian study to answer them. Had she gotten in trouble with the Chapel Alliance again? Had the Sisters scorned her enough for missing her duties to the Alliance? She had studied all things Sorcery yet barely had any magical talent whatsoever. Artamese was the middle child of three gifted women in her family—the eldest was a prodigious herbalist who became a prolific advocate for Gaianism. The youngest had become the youngest Artificer recruited by the Chapel Alliance.

It put her to shame.

Raveena knew and understood something about her talents that Artamese did not—but she also knew the Chapel Alliance was trouble despite their philanthropic appearance. Artamese had been blind to the Sisterhood before; she had dropped out of the Gaian Academy to study in Genesaris, leaving her Patian home behind to unearth her Affinity in magic. She failed to discover what that Affinity was. Instead, she developed something new and unusual—she had the ability to study magic in real time; to dissect, unravel, unmake it and study its components. It was not the usual that students were tested for. Thus, she had become a Scrivener—one who reported and recorded new happenings in the magical world, including the discovery of new magic.

Honestly, she hated it. She had all the makings of a decent Artificer—or so the Empress thought to have taken her into the West as quickly as she had. Arty knew she was a pawn in a game, but even her companion Simon understood that there were far more honorable intentions on this side of the fence than what the Chapel Alliance had in mind.

Artamese wanted to study artifacts. She wanted to study the past, not the present or the future—only how it could impact it. She wondered if that’s why she had been recruited for this expedition. A friend of the Empress still made Artamese wary. It’s not that she didn’t trust Raveena’s judgement—she just didn’t particularly care for people.

After all, her only companion was a Hell Hound.

There Peregrine swayed serenely before them and Artamese peered down at Simon. He sat on his haunches, leaning against Arty’s hip staring apprehensively at the ship. Simon was unnaturally tall—and though he passed for some Great Dane, wolf hound mix—he was certainly not of this world. Her companion was far too lazy to show it unless pushed to such extremes. He heaved the deep sigh of a spoiled brat who was bored and Artamese cuffed him by the ear before they made their way to the loading dock.

It was only mildly frustrating—albeit hilarious—the way the crew skirted around Simon. Simon was equally miserable—he did not care for the swaying of the ship, nor the open ocean. Only when Artamese bumped into him for the fourth time did she halt, hands on her hips, “For bloody sake, Simon—stop acting like you’ve never been on a ship before and stop acting like a mewling whelp! You’re embarrassing me!” She adjusted her glasses up her nose and straightened out her uniform.

It was a standard Enforcer uniform, though her insignias were custom. The first was a golden lotus on a black field, a sign that she hailed from the Hyperian Court. The second patch was a silver outline of an open book on a light blue field with five stars arched over it denoted her as a Chapel Alliance student professor, Scrivener and Artificer. She did a double take when she noticed Xartia pacing. She had seen his fashionable presence at the court well enough to know it was him, and yet! Gone was the pale, effeminate pretty boy Pendragon as Simon sometimes referred to him. Here was something else entirely.

“Well that’s curious. Come on.” They made their way to meet the man their Empress had tasked her to work with.

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He was late. The mage knew that much and he couldn’t quite blame it on it being his first time in the sprawling Port Kyros. At least not entirely. Arthur had gotten lost as he made his way towards the port where Xartia awaited his arrival, and had stopped to ask locals for directions but only managed to get himself even more lost. The mage sighed and scratched his head, making his way to the ledge of the uphill avenue he was traversing, and looked down over the rest of the city as he attempted to figure out where he was and where he needed to go. Arthur could not. He could see the port from his vantage but couldn’t figure out what route to take. It was starting to become frustrating when, as fortune would have it, the mage’s eyes scanned over the sea wall that bordered a section of the coast. Something clicked in Arthur’s mind and the mutant made his way downhill. The path was far easier to navigate, the sea wall looming higher as the black mage descended. 

Arthur found himself under the shadow of the sea wall and climbed the steps to the elevated path that overlooked the ocean. The mage figured he could simply follow the wall, or rather the coastline itself, to the port. A sound plan. However, Arthur delayed his urban adventure further, leaning against the parapets and peered down at the crashing waves of the ocean. The mage breathed in the salt air, assuaging the frustrations he’d been feeling while frantically navigating the maze-like streets. So much so that Arthur ended up relaxing upon the parapets,  watching the tide roll in for longer than he’d spent lost. 

It was another hour before the mutant made his way across the sea wall, descended a set of stairs and walked the rest of the way to Xartia’s vessel. Ascending the gangplank, he stepped onto the deck, his orange, wolfish gaze surveyed his surroundings, and spotted his fellow magician pacing along the deck. Arthur looked the part of a tourist backpacker. He wore a dark blue short-sleeved button up with a pattern of red palm trees printed across its surface, a grey set of shorts, and blue-and-black trail running shoes.

But, despite their destination, Arthur also looked every part the adventuring wizard as well. The mage’s black robes rested upon his broad shoulders, its tail which reached just past his hips, and its sleeves that hung emptily at his sides both swayed in the breeze as Arthur walked on the deck.

Underneath his robes, Arthur wore a pair of crisscrossing baldrics of brown leather and a harness around his hips of the same material. They contained his occult vestments. Narrow slots for small scrolls, packs and pouches for reagents and alchemical ingredients, several occult fetishes were pinned arbitrarily across both his baldrics, vials in small bandolier-like holsters, and larger flasks were leather wrapped and hung from the belt around his hips. A larger pack was strapped to the bottom of the baldric which hung from his left shoulder and settled on his right hip, carrying his explosives and related materials, but also home to his set of chakrams. He carried visible weapons as well. The bottom of each baldric was the home of a sheathed weapon, his long sword (Bogatyr) on his left hip and a rondel dagger on the right. 

Meanwhile, the mutant carried his brown wax canvas rucksack on his back, its straps looping through inserts in his robes. A pair of objects were lashed by long stretches of cordage to the pack. His thick bedroll on top and a brass scrying bowl on the back of the pack. 

“Xartia,” Arthur called out from afar, making his way over as the wind tossed his slicked back hair. “It’s been a long time.” 

((What a crap post lol))

@Twitterpated @Malintzin @The Courier

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feminine presence approached, not that she was close enough to notice overtly coming his way. Though what walked beside her gave him the feeling that this was his expected company. Snapping out of his thoughts, a grin took his lips and a snicker escaped him. 'Nobody told me she had a hell hound.' Impressive and exciting. Though he wondered how she might plan on walking around with such a magical creature in a place clearly geared against anything in the likes of? Then again, it all really came down to the location on the stone as to how convenient any of their presences could be. 


An other, more familiar presence emerged in his range of perception, though he tried to resist acknowledging it until he had to out of respect. Petty as it was to do so, Xartia often held some sort of grudge on those he made friends with that just decided to disappear for a while. The same reason he was mad at his brother for a while. Xartia himself was guilty of the same nature, and surely there are those on other worlds right now that likely wondered about him. If nothing else they likely celebrated his absence. The handful of people from one particular old world that didn't despise him were more or less here on this world now. Arthur was one of them.

“It’s been a long time.”

"Begrudgingly so," He began once Arthur was close enough to speak without shouting, likewise close enough for Xartia to place a hand on his shoulder for a squeeze or two. "That's why you are here now though, today. Your assistance in this endeavor is more important than my petty, personal grudges. Regardless, I'm glad to have you here."

Hell hound, overtly obvious magic man with his apparent mutations. Such things could be explained away to a degree, but what with his inventory complete with his robe. Perhaps Xartia was a fool for ever considering them sneaking about like some sort of henchmen or secret agents. Still, there was a lot they didn't know about the inner workings of the tech found on the island. Hopefully the stone wasn't protected by a ton of tech, just left to the elements in a peculiar place where even the locals didn't disturb or look. Perhaps he'd be able to feel or see such a powerful stone when in range of his own perceptive capabilities, though having never seen one of these stones before he couldn't be sure.

"Welcome Artamese, Simon; I'd like to introduce you to my good friend Arthur. Arthur, this is Artamese and her companion. You've both seemed to make decent time, that just leaves us waiting for one more."

Another case of a magical being or creature joining them. Perhaps he should have recalled his newest friend's lineage before requesting she meet him here so far from home. Though these were the sorts of elements real adventure proposed. Without peril there was no payout. Without severity their was no depth. Anybody could take a stroll and say they went for an adventure because they took a path they'd never taken before. Xartia however, he was the type to go on a true adventure. The likes of which Arthur had seen, the only one he'd invited whom he could have faith in as a fellow experienced veteran. 

@Voldemort @Malintzin @The Courier

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"I suppose we've waited long enough, longer than I'd have liked to. Come, let's join one another aboard the vessel. I'll brief you all on the details as well as I'm aware of them."

Welcoming Arthur to join them, the Cambion pivoted left and proceeded to board The Peregrine. It seemed that the three of them, plus the hell hound, would be the only three to voyage across these waters to the infamous Antigone Isles. There was a lot of grey area in his knowledge, and he'd stress that to them when explaining. Though for the first time in a long time he was willing to go against the grain without being fully aware or prepared, because the means outweighed the potential costs. One thing he was certain of was that Artamese and Arthur were providing him with such grandiose generosity that he would undoubtedly feel indebted to them. 

"Before we set sail, I want to be as transparent as possible. After I've given my piece on the status of the island, if you decide you'd rather not, you are free to excuse yourself from this vessel without inspiring any hard feelings from myself...The Antigone Isles, according to my research, is home to one of the precious Cornerstones of Genesaris. My best bet is that it is either the Reality Stone, or the Time stone; Both of which are incredibly versatile, both of which could aid me in the way I hope to use it. Unfortunately, the isles are plagued by phobia. It seems that those whom possess proficiency in magic, or even potential, are collared and suppressed; In which those that refuse or that are caught practicing are swiftly, harshly, and unjustly imprisoned."

He paused as he began to pace about the deck, stopping as he cast his sparkling, emerald gaze upon the salty waters they were to pass through to reach their destination.

"Rumor has it that this island has cutting edge tech, the highest advancement there of in all of Genesaris. To that end there is no doubt that they may very well have machines capable of detecting magic and targeting it even; If nothing else. Being that the Cornerstones are inherently magic themselves, I'm almost entirely certain that the authorities in place have either placed such an item in a vault; Assuming they aren't capable of being destroyed, or perhaps it has silently fell into the pocket of a collector or trader of some sort. Regardless, we're going in completely blind, with no idea what we're getting into, with no idea of whom or what we'll cross paths with, and with no idea of the consequences to our actions....Both those personal to us, and those that will mostly effect the region in our wake."

He paused again turning to face them, his trademark Cheshire grin creeping onto his face as his sparkling eyes narrowed. His arms raised into the air in an exaggerated shrug.

"So, who is with me? Regardless of any assistance I may or may not be afforded, this is something I must do."

@Voldemort @Malintzin @The Courier(?) @Etched In Stone(?)

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“Begrudgingly?” Arthur replied with a curious grin, his amusement evident by the lines around his face and the shine in his orange, wolf-like eyes. Of course, he didn’t deny that Xartia had reason to have a petty grudge, but it definitely wasn’t a mutual feeling. The alchemist continued to listen to the cambion, chuckling at last when his fellow mage admitted that he needed the mutant’s very specific set of skills. “No worries, I’m used to the sentiment. I’m sure Duchess Karradeen wanted to toss me in a ditch on several occasions while we were treasure hunting in Taen, but even a self-absorbed royal recognized talent when I saved her and many of her men  during an ambush. So I applaud your pragmatism, if I were you, I’d want me on my team too.”

The alchemist grinned, accepting Xartia’s brotherly squeeze upon the furred mantle that sat atop his broad shoulder, and reached out with his right hand for a handshake. “I’m glad I made the trip,” the mage added, gripping the cambion’s hand if Xartia extended his. When Xartia introduced Artamese, the mutant turned his orange gaze on the woman, and offered her a handshake as well. “Charmed,” Arthur greeted with a short bow before adding in ironic and joking fashion, “Arthur Uskglass. Greatest wizard of the age.” 

Chuckling at his own joke, Arthur gave Xartia a nod and followed suit up the gangplank and onto the ship’s deck. The mutant undid the straps of his rucksack and discarded his pack on the deck, leaning against the ship’s gunwale as Xartia paced back and forth while speaking. Yawning, the alchemist produced a pair of sunglasses with large, white colored frames with blue tints on the lenses. Though he didn’t seem to be paying the best attention, Arthur heard every word that Xartia said, letting him speak uninterrupted even though the alchemist desired to interject at multiple junctures. 

He spoke up immediately when Xartia finished, barely spending a second to contemplate before saying, “I’m in. I do have a few questions before I commit myself fully to the cause though. Like I said before, I helped a duchess in Fracture find a dangerous artifact, and part of me still feels that I was irresponsible in doing so. What the hell do you need this thing for? Because if it’s some frivolous desire, then perhaps a private collection may be the best place for it.”

@Twitterpated @Malintzin @Etched In Stone @The Courier

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Easily, the Magician afforded the Wizard a brotherly shake, half embracing him with the opposing arm, a fist coming to his shoulder blade. As their hands separated, the fingers briskly snapping from the tips in an audible fashion.


He spoke his piece undisturbed, though of course the Mutant wasted no time reading into the situation a bit to get a better feel before committing. What any smart man would do. The question was, could he trust the answer he was given? Could he be sure that even with the best of intentions, ultimately a device such as this could fall into the wrong hands regardless of where it was now, or if they acquired it for any amount of time?

 “I’m in. I do have a few questions before I commit myself fully to the cause though. Like I said before, I helped a duchess in Fracture find a dangerous artifact, and part of me still feels that I was irresponsible in doing so. What the hell do you need this thing for? Because if it’s some frivolous desire, then perhaps a private collection may be the best place for it.”

"How right you may be...However, I need to use the prowess of one of these stones as an extra precaution to my youngest son; As he prepares to face the same threat that has claimed the lives of all of my other children. It's an insurance policy for him, in the case that I fail, he might have a fighting chance at surviving Lucius."

Xartia had referred to him as the Emperor Koji back at the festival. Where folks like Akako looked down on him for such, it was obvious in this moment the name he would always call that boy of a man. Finessing was something a Daiyokai was obviusly too proud for, though Xartia was all for baiting a certain mentality in preparation for inevitable confrontation. He couldn't go after one of his own sons, and he couldn't kill one for certain. Though there were other methods he had in mind that meant he just had to wait for Koji to come for one of them first; Or in the Yokai Queen's case, again.

"Beyond that purpose, in my survival, I suppose I would become the stone's aegis."

@Voldemort @Etched In Stone

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Rami fon Verg art (RfV)

The Cambion could never park himself without getting bored quickly, perhaps the years of demon were getting to him that doing absolutely nothing, made him frantic and go crazy. Perhaps, this is what one called a true Adventurer after all? It's been rather months of no contact since the last time the two met face-to-face in his visit of the Chateau, the Magician was exchanged several vials of the Elixir to do as he bloody wished, but to get them gone as quick as he could. Leinhart came in faith today to Port Kyros returning a favor to the old friend all the way from Martial Town in Terrenus. His infectious spread over Cyberpunk City in what lasted a little longer than a month's time, now had the place ridden with ghouls and vampires. It was only a matter of time before the uprising Coven nesting there took over GRAFT clinics and the department of Police there all to acquire the appropriate pieces and claim Martial Town as his own in proximity to the Glen.

The scent of sea stretched throughout the entire port many folk of the place carried with their regular activities being selling goods at stands, fishing at the docks close to the bay, or simply enjoying a good stroll along the boardwalk on this great, sunny day. A massive dogwood and iron stagecoach rolled through the limestone streets of the inner city, two mighty nightmare steeds pulled the reigns defiantly in their glowing red ember eyes. Kicking from hind legs flames wreathing from their hooves and smoky tendrils escaping their nostrils, these horses appeared to be constructed strictly from an incorporeal essence without a physical body resembling the embodiment of a three-dimensional shadow. It's midnight black hair and silvery mane it's only corporeal parts. Steering the reigns towards the harbor from the broad deck was a male banshee dressed in a pinstripe black suite and tall dark hat. 

From his curtain behind the window of the stagecoach and plum aviators, Leinhart's golden visage caught glimpse of the vast blue coastline just on the outskirts of the city. Had he felt the resin Rose giveth to Xartia close enough to his existing person, travel could have taken much less time and effort at the cost of seven days. From what a took a week by horse-travel, the Kronos was now staring in the face of such a breathtaking sea. For once since the Vampire could remember last, he had felt a sense of mixed awe in his descend towards the shimmering sea. Having been around such a large body of water was overwhelming for the Ancient, detesting travel by boat more than walking into a pit of flames. While this was certainly his first visit to Port Kyros it's most fascination had definitely come from the sea. The sounds of hooves clomping against the docks weren't loud enough for the boarders of the Peregrine to hear and catch attention of, but the largest ship on deck and a man dressed sprucely well in a tuxedo in short black hair had to been Xartia. When a man wasn't from some place particular, little did he know how poorly he stood out! That reminded him of how he forgot to wear that suite he was given. Winding up to where the crew ship was docked, flaming hooves came to a silent halt as they settled to a matter of smokiness the banshee, Bolthezar hopped from the deck to the side door and opened it for the Choisel Vampire to make his exit. 

First a foot stepped onto the iron descending platform, a sparkling brown cowhide loafer protruded itself with the sleeve leg in a deep purple. A pale hand extended with polished black nails to grip over the coach's rail as the creature slipped from the darkness into the sunlight of Port Kyros. Standing at nearly a height of Six feet tall the alabaster skinned man furrowed his goldenrod eyes at the crack of light hitting his angular face. Staring into the openness of the dock he searched his eyes intently for Xartia, even went as far as venting for him. The Vampire fancied himself well this day, if not just as dapper as Xartia in a open violet long-sleeve exposing a chiseled framework of his petite abdomen. Hanging from his neck fastened in a necklace was a giant serrated wolf fang. His ash hair fell in two separate arcs parting down the sides of his face in soft silk tendrils cascading to about shoulder-length. Stroking the steeds under the chin before dismissing the butler with a gesturing wave of the hand, Leinhart refixed his vision ahead again he shifted his direction towards the Perengrine and casually headed in the direction of the dock. Surprisingly, he appeared human-like, despite his ageless flesh and predatory vampiric features of fangs that casually peered from his maw. To any onlooker this moment, the Lord Choisel Leinhart Kronos was a regular man, maybe wealthy and definitely up to no good. But, seemingly threat less to the Port of Kyros and it's citizens.



Edited by Etched In Stone

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Another familiar presence was detected within the Great Aether, or rather within his range of perception of such. He continued speaking to Arthur as it was, in which Leinhart appeared more or less in their company at the approximate moment Xartia was mentioning becoming the stone's guardian. His trademark, Cheshire grin crept onto his face, his emerald eyes narrowing.

"After all, we wouldn't want the stone to wind up in the wrong hands."

He mused, begrudgingly agreeing with Arthur in the slightest of ways. Perhaps the stone was best left where it was. Unperturbed by even the likes of them. Finally, the Cambion turned to face the King of the Damned himself. He snickered as he stepped towards the Ancient, his hand raised, poised to offer the same respect he'd afforded Arthur moments ago. Leinhart's compliance could only lead to an audible pop as their hands met, in which Xartia used their locked digits to pull him in for a brotherly hug. His opposed fist coming to tap on the Vampire's back thrice.

"It's nice of you to join us. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up. I trust your travels have been kind to you."

He relinquished Leinhart as he finished speaking his words, unknowing that Leinhart could have in fact appeared sooner had he not left the gift he'd given him what was only a few years ago at best. Regardless, he was here now, and Xartia planned to continue just about where he'd left off.

"I've just given my friend Arthur here the vague run down I've acquired of the Isles. While I'll refrain from repeating that mouthful now, we'll have plenty of time on the way to get you caught up to speed. Now, I've taken the honor of producing a few magic suits that may come in handy during the life of this quest, beyond it even. Once accepted it's your's to keep. Unfortunately, they're duplicates of a prototype and relatively feature one primary function; To mask the presence of the supernatural and the metaphysical. I have no idea what sort of detection capabilities they have, but with these on, I'm confident you can only be detected during the use actively energy working."

@Voldemort @Etched In Stone

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The black mage listened to Xartia’s explanation carefully, frowning as his fellow magician spoke of his strange and incredibly violent family life. In that moment, Arthur was glad that he had decided to put on his sunglasses, and it wasn’t just because of the glare of the sun. He stared past Xartia, staring off into the distance of the churning blue sea. His thoughts spread far and wide, returning to memories of his family and the way that ended for the mage. However, no matter how much Arthur disliked his own father, he didn’t want to kill the man, much less his own siblings. Koji was practically a wild dog with his desire to murder, and the mage questioned whether it was right for Xartia’s youngest son to bare of burden of defeating his brother. 

“You’re in quite the predicament,” Arthur finally managed to say before adding in a curious yet stern manner, “I think I know the answer, but it is a curious thing so don’t think less of me for asking. Why haven’t you asked me to make an attempt on Koji? On his own, away from his attendants, you must admit that I stand a better chance than most.” The mutant paused to breathe and gather his thoughts, allowing Xartia to mull his words over before he continued speaking. “I’m not offering or anything like that, but do you really want to make it your young son’s responsibility. He’s a kid...” 

As the mage finished speak, a well-dressed newcomer walked up the gangplank and stepped onto the desk. Before Arthur could ask any questions, Xartia greeted Leinhart and began to make introductions. Once time permitted, Arthur outstretched his hand, looking to shake Leinhart’s in greeting. “I’m Arthur Uskglass,” the mutant introduced himself, giving the vampire a respectful nod as Xartia mentioned the suits he’d made. 

“How are you liking being a fashion designer anyways?”

@Etched In Stone @Twitterpated

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