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Bloody Revelations     One would perhaps be smart to defer any further offers of cooperation from a particular newly unified Creation (really, Creation in general), but this time, it doesn't involve ghosts in any way shape or form. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?

    The venue is the frigid North, as many 'North's are. It's high summer, but the sun has done a half-hearted job of melting the winter's snow, still piled chest deep in places in a spotty tapestry across the terrain, locally flat and level compared to the titanic mountains visible on the eastern horizon, shrouded in miles of icy fog. The destination seems to be along the coast, which means the temperature is comparatively mild. It's overcast and cloudy, with the sky a shade of pale grey, but the journey from the nearest warpgate is a relatively temperate and pleasant one along a winding road of white granite, 20 meters across, and populated by dense traffic of trading caravans, summer travelers, and regular guards. It's a reassuringly grand and 'modern' sight, dispelling any ideas of shady deals or horrific traps.

    The city itself is much the same. The name 'Whitewall' becomes obvious, when one sees the colossal, stark white walls at the end of the road, almost immediately visible from the get-go. Easily twenty meters high, and probably a good few thick, the fact that there are still building visible over the top of them is somewhat impressive. Though it looks to be very stark and simple white concrete, drawing closer, where guards check travelers at the only set of gates at the south, one can see traces of elaborate masonry underneath, where the facade has chipped away, much of it beautifully engraved or painted, like tiny fractions of fantastic murals.

    Passing that gate feels oddly significant. A warm tingle rushes from front to back when traversing the boundary, like stepping out of a house with all the blinds shut, and out onto a sun bathed deck. Being inside impresses the sheer size of the place, both in the area it takes up as much as its verticality, and the number of people that must live here. The most grand, soaring, elaborate architecture seems to be further into the city, whilst the area closest to the gates caters to foreigners. It's loud, bustling, and brightly lit by coal-fired lamps regularly placed at every corner. It's also remarkably clean, with less garbage of filth to be found than many modern metropoli.

    The population is, of course, dressed for brisk temperatures, but mostly with warm wool and thick fabric that bespeaks a very decent standard of living. Importantly, in amongst the men and women who walk the streets, conversing in the evening, a great many stranger folk can be seen; both in the sense of ethnicities clearly belong somewhere far away, and the odd, completely inhuman resident mingled in. For those who know a little about what a hole Creation is, the place is absolutely cosmopolitan.

    There's plenty of time to just wander the streets, if one desires. Elites get plenty of looks, but no interference, or even visible hostility. The gate district appears to be a merchant quarter, predominantly, full of markets and bazaars hawking a huge collection of strange and exotic goods laid out on furs and woven tents, but also permanent shops run by locals, such as jewelers, swordsmiths, rent horse stables, restaurants, and teahouses. Some of them even appear to be dealing in talismans and charms, as well as potentially magical gear, right out in the open.
Bloody Revelations     The specific point of liaison is one of those teahouses, humbly termed the Resplendent Chrysanthemum Repose. It's clearly upscale, and only for fairly wealthy visitors, just judging from the facade, and despite the stark white most of the city seems to display, the inside is warm and brightly coloured, full of exotic rugs and tapestries, and well-tended foreign plants. It's also been cleared out of patrons for the day, reserved in full (save for the staff of course).

    Those who want to accept a job directly will be meeting a small number of people inside, all of whom seem to be martially employed by the city. Rather than random guards, they all look to be crisp, professional fighters, in bronzed uniform and moderately armed, many of whom bear touches of foreign, or inhuman, lineage. For the most part, they're enjoying the free meals, and there aren't all that many of them; enough to break up a bar fight between powered people, perhaps. Straight through the door, a swarm of polite servers will guide anyone who wants to come inside to an unoccupied table with a lovely floral screen, bringing out written (uncommon for Creation) menus and urging them to wait patiently for an official.
Adele Rozenbach Adele has, for a change, come alone. No servants or minions of any kind, but she also has made no attempts to look properly human. Six black-feathered wings, four arms, one of which holds a large black umbrella to shade her from the sun, and facial features designed to be impossibly perfect. Blending in is for those who lack confidence.

She heads where directed, and sits down closing up her umbrella, then makes sure not to crease her expensive looking black dress and ignores the servers, presuming the menu lacks an option for human blood.
Tomoe Tomoe's life has long went past /normal/ for her world. SO here she was on Creation a world she frequently, was wary of on the best of days but she's here anyway. She can't argue with the view here or the city itself? Which very much shocks her. The name Whitewall is pretty clear though as she sees the impressive bit of engineering before her. She doesn't take much mind of the half melted snow, there's an off feeling as she passes under the gate.

It doesn't feel too bad she might get a few looks if only for the apparent nature. She doesn't press for trouble though she's got to make it to the tea house, also she could fly but that would cause some issues so she walks, she has no sign of weapons on her as she moves to enter and it's not long before a sever gets her to the table.

The fact she gets a printing menu makes her double take, that little thing alone hinted this city has a higher level of education than she expected. Not that that's bad she thanks the server and goes to picking something off the menu. Her style of armour and clothing though would be hard to pin down on creation and the red crosses it bears also would be just as alien.
Devola and Popola Without the looming threat of everyone hating them and only the threat of everyone not knowing who the hell they are, Devola and Popola are finally starting to spread their wings a little more. Not literal wings since they'd never be able to get off the ground with those, but figurative!

     What better place to do it, then, than a city that could be on the brink of war with a madman? If nothing else, coming here is at least a source of potential intel for their personal use, so the twins arrive in their usual similar, yet mirroring getups.

     They're also looking around in opposite directions to try and take in all the sights as quickly as possible. They don't seem to be all that perturbed by the written menus, although it does take them a moment to actually figure out how the prices all line up.
Count Kord     Kord arrives through the warpgate to the bustle of civilization that far exceeds that of his own world. He is impressed by the sheer density of people walking to and fro, but he wagers most forms of Creation span a larger area than his own and that the people tend to be more resilient than the typical man from where he lives.

    He immediately takes to the air, and flies above the road itself, purely out of the convenience of doing so. His presence in the sky might be missed if one does not directly spot his movement through the sky, and he only comes to a halt when he wants to enter the city itself. He lands and removes his helmet to address the guards in a cordial manner, and frowns somewhat up at the walls as he passes through the gate and feels the oppressive heat of a god of holy daylight. It doesn't harm him, but it's still similar to beings he dislikes on principle.

    Once he's in the city, he begins to poke around, mingling among the shops and social venues, asking around about the current social climate, what crops are currently in season, the general state of health of Whitewall... he is deeply interested in the intricacies of the city, because it paints a rather modern image in a world that clearly hasn't reached that state overall. He doesn't dilly-dally, though. There's an invitation for problem-solvers, and so he arrives at the tea house, and slips inside to find a seat. He may or may not know that other members of the Concord are here. He makes no indication of wanting to sit with those of the same faction, content to sit by himself with his helmet resting on the table while he waits, but he sits wherever he ends up assigned.

    Kord eyes the menu he's given, frowning at it sternly as if at a loss about what to order.

    He's not going to admit that he can't read some of the menu.
Lin Heading out to this OTHER Creation is an odd thing indeed. It's so similar, and yet something... something bothers Lin.

    But that's probably not why, during the stroll up the Traveler's Road from the nearest Warpgate and to the city, she stopped with a look of awe and confused recognition in her eyes... only to then shake her head, wipe her eyes, and plod onwards.

    Her garb is distinctly out of place for the North, yet the cold doesn't seem to bother her TOO much. Once she's indoors she quickly stops shivering and finds a seat. For this, at least, she shows a modicum of manners...

    It's paper-thin though. She's looking nervous as hell in such a luxurious place. A mixture of guilt and dread flashes across her face and her response is to clamp her mouth shut before she even can say anything... and put a hand on her peace-bound weapon.

    The menu takes her by surprise... and as she ends up seated across from Tomoe and quickly gets something with MEAT in it...

    "Creeeeeeepy. Feel like I've been here before. Does that ever happen to you...?"
Septette Arcubielle      As much pride as she takes in people marveling at her uncanny and artful form, even Septette is relieved to sometimes be faced with a more muted, less invasive reception. Her inhuman features garner a few odd stares, but she's used to that much, and meets them with either a cool glare or conspiratorial wink depending on her mood.

     The yggdroid's ears twitch a bit at the threshold to the city, but it doesn't bite her as she steps through; the rest of her stroll to the Repose is uneventful and rather dull. Jewelry and fineries hold little fascination for her, as exotic as they may be, so she makes good time.

     Finally, she's escorted to a table, and pretends to scan the menu while sizing up her hosts and fellow guests- though she's very careful not to put too much of her weight on the chair, and ends up in a slightly awkward posture as a result of attempts to keep her center of balance over her feet.

     As a five-foot-tall android, Septette Arcubielle cuts a proud figure, albeit not a very imposing one. If one can look past her metallic ear-fins and glowing purple eyes, her face is lifelike and dignified; with the rest of her body shrouded in the purple shawl around her shoulders, it's hard to tell just how humanoid the rest of her is. But given the skeletal and knife-like appearance of her fingers as she sets the menu down, it's likely the answer is 'not very'...

     The only other hint as to how strange she is would be the constant hemorrhage of ambient magic from her core, blatantly obvious to anyone with supernatural senses or magical training. For the equivalent of a slow reactor leak, it's happily benign- the sensation is almost like sitting next to a roaring fire- but it doesn't do her any favors for pretending to be relatively normal.

     "Tea and a berry pastry for me, please- surprise me on the specifics," she informs a server in a warm voice that's tinged with a harsh synthetic edge. Does she really intend to eat? Perhaps she's just being polite. Then, turning to Kord: "Would you like for me to order on your behalf, Count? I can see many things here that might capture your fancy, but some of the language here is excessively flowery... can be hard to tell what's even in this stuff, I suppose." Seems she noticed his indecision, if not his perplexity.
Starbound Flotilla     The guards are armed and armored, and so, too, are the Flotilla, who arrive in a subtle display of what force they can offer without seeming particularly threatening. Moonfin, the fishman, is in elaborate full-body durasteel armor that looks like a powered cross between a diving suit and a samurai's armor, glowing cyan at the faceplate. Biteblade, the humanoid plant, is in durasteel plating with elaborately carved wood and bone ornaments over glowing powered components that glow an intense green. Pavo the bird-girl wears a pirate-aesthetic set of mesoamerican-style armor, with yellow bands of energized fabric linking the pieces to her central piratey longcoat. Albert the monkey-man is wearing elaborate dystopian commando armor reconstructed with a 'rebel spy' aesthetic: A sleeker faceplate, a slimmer form, and a more chaotic design that integrates thin, resilient plates of durasteel, and lines of bright white. George (just plain human) wears a set of futuristic EVA-combat and exploration armor in a hardsuit that glows a gentle red at the faceplate. Seft, the robotic Flotilla member, is wearing full-on medieval knight armor with a soft energized blue glow below the plates on her body, and especially around the eyes. Each has a heavy industrial-yellow two-pronged plasma-cutter-like tool strapped to their side, a Matter Manipulator.

    The Starbound Flotilla have come to Creation. The six captains stride through with varying levels of confidence over a certain minimum, but Moonfin Haruto is the one leading the way without a doubt, since he's so far the only one to fit the local culture as best the Flotilla can manage. They've checked in and gone through all sensible protocols to get through the south gate. When they arrive, their seating is practiced, swift, and polite. What helmets some of them wear retract or detatch, and they order their particular tastes: Moonfin asking for something vegan, Pavo asking for something full of berries and seeds, Biteblade asking for the rarest meat they have, Albert ordering the least ostentatious meal he can find, Seft abstaining (from organic food, of course), and George jokingly attempting to order several types of purely american food.

    Moonfin is the core of their diplomatic effort, and so he's the one to speak up first. "I am told you are having a certain woe of heliosian description." He says, smiling broadly as he clasps his hands together. "And are willing to make the payment required to see such troubles undone at their core. I am Haruto, Moonfin of the Hylotl, Starbound Captain, and I represent the Starbound Flotilla in matters such as these, a party interested in knowing more of this situation, and understanding how we may assist if we are able. Who may I owe the honor of this invitation to?" He gestures to the armed men here, seeking the leader among them, or the one they will be introducing as a representative.
Alucard Tepes     Alucard has been wise enough on this trip wear thick wool clothing, as well as a fur-lined cloak with a hood. All of it is black, yes, but there's a great deal of embroidery in gold, and a lot of gold buttons. It's certainly not an outfit that a poor man would wear. But isn't quite so blinged-out as to speak to noble status. He is of course wearing that hood up over his head, thouhg not so much to hide him from view as to shade his eyes. It's a simple equation really -- 'sunlight' + 'snow' + 'being used to moving about at night' = square root of 'ow my eyes' cubed.

He is also visibly armed, with a sword at his hip and a shield at his back. But the sword is sheathed, and the shield stowed where it would take him a moment to retrieve it. A sign of non-aggression, but being unwilling to be completely unarmed.

    He's also been wise enough to seal his own nature, mostly; all this 'Unconquered Sun' business sounds like it would be decidedly unfriendly to a vampire. That may not be the case, but Alucard isn't about to take that chance. Besides that, one never knows what one may come across in other worlds that may be able to sniff him out and immediately attack him, just for being a vampire. And he doesn't want to bring trouble to the city with him.

    A horse is a relatively simple thing to find in the Multiverse. It's also something that seems to blend in well enough. And with most of his power temporarily sealed, it's unlikely he'll spook the thing. So he goes by horse to the city. He is rather impressed when the city comes into view. His appearance in the Multiverse has been relatively recent, only within the last week or so, and the only time he's seen a structure this big has been his father's castle.

    Alucard tenses at that odd feeling upon entering the city, almost expecting himself to suddenly be in some sort of pain. Though when nothing happens, he relaxes a little. If there's time to wander he most definitely will, though less out of a desire to see the city than a desire to learn the layout and figure out a few places he can escape through if it becomes necessary. Eventually though, he'll head to that teahouse and go in. If it's noticeably less bright inside, he'll pull his hood down. If not, that hood is staying up.

    To a table he's led, and provided a menu. "Thank you," he says, to the server who offered the menu. He isn't aware of how uncommon having written menus for this world is. But then again, that's sort of why he's going here, to learn more.
Count Kord     Kord is broken out of his grumpy stare by the words of someone familiar. His brows lift in surprise and he looks at her for several seconds. But then he confirms, "Yes. That would be lovely," and he just leaves it at that, to keep from having to explain his mild illiteracy in a public space.
Septette Arcubielle      "My friend here," the little robot remarks with a vague wave of her menacing hand in Kord's direction, "would like to have some sekanjabin to drink with the kulebiake half-loaf." The words roll off her tongue as if she'd spoken them a thousand times before, and she gives the Count a look with one brow raised. "You don't mind fish, do you? I can recommend the offworld equivalents of these things, but have little idea how they prepare them here."

     Her eyes glide over the Captains and Alucard with a respective nod to each- perhaps just a bit deeper to her old friends- before settling on Karal. "You look uneasy, little one." 'Little one' is rich, coming from Septette, but she glosses over the irony: "Deep breath, yeah? It's just a meeting." She smiles a surprisingly genuine warm smile before folding her hands in her lap demurely. Perhaps getting those nasty bladed things out of view will help ease the mood.
Bloody Revelations     Kord and Alucard, wandering around outside, as weird as the former is, are well received. After all, they look (to varying degrees) wealthy type. The people are happy to chat with the both of them without reservation, though the locals are obviously apparent from the transient traders from their somewhat more polite and stuffy manners. High summer is apparently a great time for Whitewall, since the long winters make it nearly impossible to travel to or from anywhere else.

    It seems that, during the summer, the city doesn't want for anything, as much of its farmland is outside, and most easily accessible during the warmer months. There is only a small amount of local food for sale at anything like grocery prices, mostly consisting of things like barley, oats, peas, potatoes, radishes, turnips and sugar beats, with some expensive meats, but also a ton of apple cider and cherry wine for sale, all of it rather costly, but which many merchants seems to have a great deal of interest in loading up on crates of the stuff; probably to sell at astronomical prices elsewhere.

    There's a great deal of metal, gem and glasswork going around, as well as thaumaturgical, or even supposedly consecrated, items. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why. Weapons made of iron are practically dirt cheap, as are items such as bulk salt. Inspectors can be found constantly, routinely examining every little ward and charm for authenticity, taking the idea of phony protection very seriously. If one of them can ask politely, they'll find that there is a very robust dealing in properly equipping mortals against supernatural threats, due to the city's proximity to what sound to be some very nasty places. Something to do with 'The Wyld' and 'Marama's Fell'.

    Inside the teahouse, things are obviously less robustly conversational. The professionals seem to be having a good time, though this clearly isn't a place for getting drunk (and they don't really look the type to get smashed on duty anyways). Adele is welcomed in stride, though a girl eventually has to politely remove her menu. Tomoe, the Twins, and Karal barely garner a glance. One of the waiting staff looks nervously at Septette touching anything with those fingers, but keeps her peace.

    With the others finally seating themselves, they don't have to wait terribly long for their host to show up, and it becomes entertainingly apparent why half the Flotilla had passed for normal. Dressed in bronze that marks her as one of the elite guards present, is seated a woman with the head of frog, with faintly slick, pure white skin, and webbed fingers to match. She immediately takes well to Moonfin, addressing him the instant she's settled in and grabbed her menu. Just as quickly, the serving staff are bringing out everything ordered, politely ready for when all expected are present. George will have to settle with the best attempt someone can make at a burger from description.

    "Personally, that would be I. Centurian Raneka, of the Whitewall 14th Guardians Cohort, at your service." she says, with a bit of a seated bow. There's just a little tingle of magic coming from her. "Though more formerly, you'll have to thank our Syndics for their gracious invitation to our city." Raneka breaks only to take a long sip from some deep green tea, after adding milk and . . . butter? to it. "If we're all settled, let's get down to business. Have any of you heard of the Golden Bull of the North?"
Tomoe Tomoe says "I'm afraid not Lin, then again I'm not from creation. Could be that I'm not from creation so even if I had past lives? I'd have no memory of it right? Maybe it could be that?"

She looks to her friend and goes for something heavy on the meat, too as why the heck not. She takes note of the other arrivals She sees the flotilla here that's a bit of a shocker but she's not mad either just wasn't expecting them. She also takes note of Septette's arrival, not a shocker given the Starbounders are already here.

She sits back and waits for the food. Looking to Lin for the moment before.

Centurian Raneka arrives and speaks. Tomoe listens for the moment and thinks over her question.

"I am afraid i ahve not heard of the Golden Bull of the North. Yet given your superiors thought to invite us speaks that this bull is quite dangerous."
Septette Arcubielle      As much as she talks about 'gastronomical monotony', Septette's tastes seem to be more or less the same everywhere: heavily doctored brown tea and simple pastries. She takes a dainty sip with one pinky comically extended- you could put someone's eye out with that!- before setting her cup down with a light clatter and cutting her snack into neat slices.

     "I've heard of no such thing," she remarks politely. Her voice doesn't seem obscured in the slightest by the fact that her mouth is closed, or that it's full of flaky pastry; while her lips normally sync up convincingly with her synthesized voice, it looks like that's far from a requirement.

     "But I doubt that a simple bull could threaten a grand city such as this... so I would assume that this 'Bull' is a fancifully-named person, and not a beast. Am I correct in assuming that we have been called here to deal with this person?"

     Her eyes furtively dance between Raneka and Haruto, back and forth, back and forth. Lips purse in a thin line of something resembling concern.

     Yggdrasil, please, we don't need another Moonfin. Spare us this unholy horror, lest we all drown in tea and manners.
Alucard Tepes     Alucard tilts his head up to look around precisely at the same moment that Septette nods in his direction. He returns this with a nod in her direction as well, just in greeting. He has a feeling that they're all here for the same reason, anyway.

    Alucard's bearing is pretty close to a rather stuffy sort of thing too, so he's likely to not be seen as too terribly out of place. Also he looks more or less human, so there's that. Though that said, he's seen the very much not completely human folks on his way in. Makes him a bit nervous really, but this isn't his world, and so he holds his tongue about it.

    In fact, he notes Moonfin, who definitely looks rather uncomfortably familiar, but aside from a slight frown it doesn't seem to bother him too much. Though Moonfin reminds him a little too much of the Mermen in his father's castle for him not to be uncomfortable.

    He suppresses the surprise when Raneka appears, but at least now he understands why the odder of this motley group haven't seemed to attract too terribly much attention now. He tilts himself forward a little in greeting as well when she introduces herself. "Well met," he offers quietly. As for this 'Golden Bull of the North'? "I have not." He goes silent, but gestures to Rakena with one gloves hand, indicating that he is waiting for a further explanation.
Lin "Ah, the fabled Bull who threashed the Realm's legions." Lin finally has something to talk about, and there's an eagerness in her voice. A hint of... respect, maybe? At the very least, Raneka has her attention.

    "The one the tales call Anathema," She adds mutteredly, rather clearly disliking the word. "... That story even reached the Southeastern regions." Which may not be quite what the Whitewallers know of the SOutheast. Or maybe it is.

    Her gaze swerves across the others. Eyes linger PARTICULARLY long on Biteblade - even Albert and Seft don't seem to garner quite the level of 'BUH?' that a walking plant does for some odd reason.

    Alucard, too, ends up eyed... though with a rather different expression. A half-restrained appreciative smile - because tragic prince is rather princely, pale or not!

    She quickly clamps down on that and offers a clueless shrug to Tomoe though. "Is it that? ... egh, don't have a clue here."
Starbound Flotilla     Moonfin takes a deep sip of his tea as he listens, enjoying it intensely. Sure, it's not his Superior Eastern Hylotl Tea or whatever stupid thing he'd be arrogant about, but it's nice. He gives Raneka a Look, capital-L, when she adds butter to the tea. It's precisely the kind of look a tea connoisseur gives to someone, well, adding butter to tea. He managed to barely swallow an impolite remark, mostly because she's a fellow amphibian, and so there's some racial solidarity.

    "A pleasure to meet you, Centurian, and a pleasure to make contact with your Syndics. Unfortunately, while my ears possess tremendous grasp, they have but a humble reach. Please, tell me of all matters of this Bull of interest to Whitewall, and I, in turn," Haruto gestures to the rest of the group. "Shall do all I can to offer you every service of the Starbound Flotilla that may resolve such interests in your favor."

    Alucard's brief examination of Moonfin prompts the fishman to give a short, simple bow-like nod to the man. He looks sort of like the human equivalent of someone respectable, right? With that sort of thinness and paleness? And all that gold and stylishness? Moonfin seems to show some initial respect. "I seem to have not caught your name." He says, in the traditional confident voice of a well-spoken missionary. "Can I assist you?" Only polite to respond to a bit of a stare. Or maybe Moonfin just takes an arrogant pleasure in putting humans on the spot, socially. Maybe a little of both.
Devola and Popola Finally, a name! There's too many unfamiliar names and faces at this gathering, so anything to identify someone here is a welcome addition. The twins bow their heads in Unison to Raneka when she introduces herself, then alternate between listening to her and peering at the menus.

     "A bit of muttering here and there, but nothing concrete." Devola responds, gesturing outside with a casual flick of her wrist before taking the menu from Popola. "What has he done? And... What do you intend to have done with him?" Popola follows up, and then they're both peering at the menu.

     They don't even need eat this stuff. What are they doing with that menu, anyway?
Bloody Revelations     "Just one? I hadn't expected many of you had. Anyone from the North, or even the Realm, would have heard of him, so that means you're from very far away, aren't you? I appreciate you going so far out of your way." the frog lady says to the crowd involving a vampire, a half-pokemon, some kind of devil thing, a plant, two robots (technically four), an ape man, and worst of all, basically an American tourist.

    "You are correct on both counts. The Bull is the widely known sobriquet of a Northerner formerly known as Yugen Kaneko. He was once an icewalker; a member of the Whistling Plains Elk tribe, following the herds by the year as the tribes are known for. Some years ago, he became one of the Solar Anathema, and ever since then, he has been using his growing powers as a means to create an empire of his own imagining."

    "At first, he set about uniting the icewalker tribes, conquering and absorbing their scattered people into a single nation, but soon, he turned his attention to other folk. Permanent settlements. Towns and villages. Some of them our trading partners in the North. All of them with nothing to do with him or his people. For a long time, we ignored him. The Syndics have a strict policy that Whitewall is to keep completely neutral in all affairs, or else break the Thousand-Year Pact with our . . . neighbours. We had made some diplomatic overtures to him at the time, but he was uninterested, perpetually occupied with staking his claim to a permanent nation for his people at the time. He was even somewhat beneficial. In his conquest, he did battle with the dead and the Fair Folk many times, and defeated them."

    Even with her odd, croaking voice, the frog-lady's tone audibly changes to something a little darker and more strained, when it comes to more recent history. "It's as the young lady said, however. The Realm eventually sortied all the way to North in order to crush the Solar Anathema upstart, deploying an entire Legion, and yet, somehow, his army of icelander barbarians destroyed them, after months of bloody war. I fear he has become emboldened ever since, conquering and sacking the greater powers of the North, conquering and sacking shrines and cities. His power has grown to the extent that it begins to concern even the Syndics. Our reports confirm that he has been able to recruit a number of other Anathema, and we now have reason to believe he has set his sights on Whitewall, hoping to gain tactical possession of the city's sacred temple. No Whitewaller has ever been able to set foot inside, but the Bull believes that its dormant power will answer him, and will likely attempt to siege the city very soon in order to lay claim to it."

    Her lengthy explanation complete, Raneka takes a few moments to quiet down and relax, her throat slowly and deflating with a depressed croak. "Of course, we have our own considerable defenses, and so far the Bull hasn't tried his hand at a proper siege, but his defeat of the Tepet Legion worries us. If at all possible, we would like to defuse the conflict peacefully, but it seems he has no interest in anything we have to offer. Whitewall would owe you a significant, negotiable gratitude if you were able to settle the matter before it came to an all-out war. Through whatever means you deem appropriate." An uncomfortable shuffle goes around, even for the guards seated at other tables. It seems nobody in these 'Guardians' really /likes/ the idea of it coming to that. How uncommonly scrupulous.

    "We cannot lend you our official support, of course. Doing so would be easily taken advantage of by outside forces to violate sanctified treaties of non-aggression. We can offer you information and equipment, but no direct aid. This, of course, means that how you would handle him is entirely your own business, for which we are not responsible, and thus have no say in. Of course, we would like him as an ally if at all possible, but ultimately, how you handle these circumstances would be entirely at your discretion. Do you understand?"
Lin "Wouldn't be surprised if it did respond to him. This city goes all the way back to the First Age. You don't see construction like the road and these walls that doesn't go way, way back." Lin mutters sourly, twisting her lips rather perplexedly at Raneka.

    She opens her mouth a few more times as if ready to speak... thinks better of it for a good fifteen seconds of more opening and closing...

    "Hold on a second. You'd like this 'Anathema' for an ally, you said? If possible?" Her eyes seem to have cleared at this, doing quite the double-take as she stares right at Raneka.
Alucard Tepes     Karal Rei Lin's seeming knowledge on the subject of their apparent target draws his gaze in her direction -- perhaps just as she's eyeing him! If he happens to notice he doesn't react overtly, his gray eyes just remain focused on Lin as she talks about the Bull. Truth be told, he used to getting stared at. It's never for good reasons, and usually in fear. However, he offers a placid nod in her direction.

    It's also not unheard of for him to end up being put on the spot. The address from Moonfin draws his attention in his direction, and he returns the not-quite bow. To the question of his name he replies, "I am called Alucard." Despite his discomfiture, his tone remains polite and civil. How does one attempt to avoid embarrassing oneself in a situation where he might have been staring a little too much? Simple. Completely refuse to acknowledge that the embarrassing thing happened. So to Moonfin's OTHER question, he merely replies, "Not at this time, I do not believe."

    Raneka's explanation comes then, and he remains silent during it, listening well. He doesn't know most of the places, but he can guess that the places this 'Golden Bull of the North' has attacked are close enough to this place to make the city uncomfortable. And he's not unaware of the power of this opponent; entire armies have been sent against him and have failed? That speaks to great power.

    "...If armies have failed against him, I suggest a more stealthy approach," Alucard offers. "Perhaps reconnaissance will reveal a weakness. One may use what can be found there to force his hand into either peace or allegiance. If the diplomatic approach fails -- as I suspect it might -- it might reveal a weakness that can be used to bring him down."
Septette Arcubielle      From very far away? Septette opens her eyes wide and blinks twice in rapid succession, the politest way she knows how to express utter fucking bewilderment. Her ceramet eyelids make a sort of clink-clink sound at the rapid shuttering, like tapping a utensil on a plate. This is the first time she's been mistaken for any kind of native in any world at all, and for a brief moment, she's tempted to ask how good Renaka's vision is with those batrachian eyes.

     She swallows the question successfully, along with a small scrap of pastry. "I believe," she finally says- her composure as smooth and calm as if it had never been broken- "that we can take care of this man for you, one way or another." Her expression is almost perfectly calm now, but as she looks at Albert and Kord specifically, a subtle and meaningful look comes over her eyes.

     It's an expression that is as ancient and primally familiar to man as the smile or frown, imbued with truly universal import and beauty. It's a look of slight concern, blended with a frisson of worrying eagerness.

     It means, in short: 'are we gonna have to kill a bitch'?
Tomoe Tomoe says "I am indeed from a very far away land but I am no stranger to Creation."

She notes listening for a moment as the term Anathema again. she thinks about this Bull well the man known as Yugen Kaneko.

"Clearing out the Fair Folk is a good thing from what I know about creation but it sounds like he was only due to them being an issue for his own dreams of making an empire."

She continues to listen.

"Sieges are a bloody affair that leave a lot of people caught up in them dead. I see why there is such concern about this. I'm in, if we can handle this without a war I'm down for it. I also get that, this never happened if we get caught so to speak."
Devola and Popola Both Devola and Popola get blank stares on their faces as Raneka talks about... Something. A lot of something. With a lot of names, even.

D: "He was following the elk?"
P: "No, no. The elk were following him while he absorbed the Syndics."
D: "What? No, that was the icewalkers. The Syndics are the ones in charge of this place, right?"

It'll take them a bit to try and sort all of this out. They're still istening even as they mutter between themselves, though, eventually remembering to actually introuduce themselves with Moonfin's prodding.

D: "Devola. We're not from here, no."
P: "Popola. It's good to meet you all."

With that settled, they look from person to person several times, eventually settling on Raneka again while the different options are being discussed. This time, they speak in unison again.

"Is this negotiable before or after we do the job?"
Starbound Flotilla     "Hmmm." Moonfin puts a ponderous webbed hand to his chin. "We are to operate as 'deniable assets', in that case, in two diplomatic senses and two military senses." He says, turning the idea over in his mind. "I shall certainly say that I respect your desire to remain fully in compliance with such a peace treaty, and to preserve the local stability." And he tilts his head, curiously. "Tell me the nature of the temple." He seems to have ideas, but they won't form properly without some proper data. "What does the Golden Bull believe he stands to gain from such a site? What do you believe it could truly offer to him?" They are, after all, going to try to be diplomatic first, right? Well, diplomatic at some point, anyway.

    "A troubling situation, without a doubt. While our greatest strengths may lie in acts of manufacturing, such abilities are little use without manpower to provide backup. Are there any other parties to this tense situation who we may make contact with, whose help we might acquire for the purpose of facing these tribes on more equal manpower footing? Legion remnants, other interested political entities in this region, or perhaps a current target he faces in his rolling invasion?"

    Alucard Tepes gets a raised -- well, not eyeBROW, per se, but a raised eye-ridge. Moonfin has three eyes, so he raises two of them, and it seems like an approximation. "You seemed to take particular notice." He says, pointing it out ENTIRELY unnecessarily. What a jerk!! Moonfin's weird arrogance thing sort of makes an awkward situation, but he makes a plaintive gesture. "Well, if there is nothing, there is simply nothing. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Alucard."
Bloody Revelations     "I'm happy to hear that." Raneka says to Moonfin's voicing of respect for treaty. Genuinely, in fact. "There aren't too many people who understand the importance of rules and standards of cohabitation. It's especially important when winter comes, and isolates people as it does."

    "As for the temple, even we aren't entirely sure. It caps a powerful convergence of geomantic lines of power, and absorbs and distributes energy to the city. We estimate it dates back to the First Age, though our savants claim it must be damaged, as its output is much lower than it should be, and much of Whitewall's old magitechnology no longer functions. Powerful, holy wards prevent any from setting foot in it, however, even the three Syndic gods. They've been very clear that, though they help Whitewall in any way they can, they are not the gods /of/ the city. The true god of Whitewall resides somewhere in the temple, but has never been seen."

    "Unfortunately, it's very plausible that the temple will react to a Solar. It was most likely built by them, before they were exterminated by Legions. If he were able to attune himself to its energies, and repair the damage, he would command its flow of power, and his powers in turn would drastically increase. We suspect this would be easily enough to make him the dominant power in the North; something the Realm would be eager to crack down on, with ten times the forces of before."

    Raneka gives Karal a croak-shrug at her question. "Though the Solars may be officially declared Anathema, the Immaculate Order holds little sway here. The people of the North are a pragmatic sort, who've learned to rely on each other to survive. Whitewall itself already employs Outcase, half-bloods, elementals and gods for the good of the whole. We have, at times, obliquely employed the aid of Anathema, against the dead and the Fair Folk and the occasional behemoth. At the very least, Whitewall is prepared to turn a blind eye to him, so long as he interferes no further."

    There's some more to respond to, from Moonfin's and Tomoe's angles, as well as Alucard. "It's true. Large scale military deployment against him isn't a likely option to succeed. The Bull is a master strategist, and a powerful warrior besides, who uses his magic to train and forge his icewalkers into crack troops without fear or remorse. It is his military acumen that has allowed him to sweep the North as he has. The Haslanti League, further north, is currently his only rival, in terms of projecting force, which he will want to rectify right away, but they've been understandably reluctant to commit those forces to a war with him. The northern gods of war currently favour him, and are unlikely to work against him."

    Somehow, for a frog, her expression becomes progressively grim. "Otherwise, your options for an alliance are slim. The Realm would most certainly support destroying an Anathema, but they'll not offer significant assets, after their previous loss at his hands; perhaps a detachment of the Wyld Hunt. The Fair Folk of the near freeholds would love to capture him as well, I'm sure, but making deals with Fae is . . . not something I would recommend. Other than that, you would have to venture to a Shadowland, and enlist the aid of the dead; no mean feat. Some of them are owned by Deathlords as well, who won't take kindly to meddling. Marama's Fell is the nearest, and largest, but it's nothing but anarchy; tribes of ghosts warring endlessly for power. Don't even bother trying to make contact with the Tear Eaters or the Hushed Ones. They'll only try to devour you."

    "The advantages offered by a small and discreet force may well be your best option, at least for now. I can sense that many of you are powerful wielders of magic, or at the least, very skilled. It may be wise to try as many approaches as you can, if you are uncertain of what powerful allies you can call upon."
Alucard Tepes     Devola and Popola both get a polite nod as they introduce themselves. Alucard notes that they seem to be quite in-tune with each other. It's impressive, the synergy they share. Moonfin draws his attention, though. He remains stony-faced through the raised eyebrow look. He merely offers in return, "Well met." Seems like he's being a bit of a jerk too, though, so he can't really fault Moonfin for it.

    Magitechnology? Alucard raises a brow at this as Raneka mentions this. He's definitely listening now. As for Bull and the temple? "I can see why you would wish to prevent this." Because this guy's already super-powerful, having him get even MORE power from that temple would most likely lead to him instantly turning on the city and trying to make himself its ruler -- and add to his 'Empire'. That's generally how conquerors think.

    With Raneka agreeing with the idea of a small force, Alucard has one last question. "Do you know where he can be found as of right now?" Might as well start some recon as soon as possible, right? Alucard's wolf form would blend in fairly well with nature here, most likely; there are usually wolves where it's cold.
Devola and Popola With all of their more unreliable thoughts confirmed, the twins have all but lowerd the menu to pay full attention to the talks going on instead of trying to figure out what might accidentally kill them. They both bow their heads lightly to Alucard in response, and they both peer at him unblinkingly for several moments before turning back to address Rakena.

     "The Northerners sound a lot more practical than this Order, then. But if this Bull is still proving to be an issue..." Popola starts, a troubled frown crossing her face.

     "That's what we're here for, then. Do you have anyone tracking his movements, though?" Devola follows up, glancing around briefly and trying to wave down a waiter. After asking for some extra napkins, she turns back to the group.

     "Not so much his army, but... The Bull himself. Knowing where he is would make it easier to plan something out."
Septette Arcubielle      Though she appears outwardly uninterested in diplomatic niceties, Septette soaks up every word and turns the facts over in her mind. A master strategist, Raneka says- and yet he must only be a few decades old. The height of one's acumen may be determined by aptitude, but the depth of one's blind spots can only be worn away with experience and time. Precocious or no, the haughty robot muses, young champions always have exploitable deficiencies.

     Small, she can do. Discreet, she cannot. Her eyes glaze over slightly as her ear-fins droop to a near-horizontal position- 'do not disturb' seems to be the general message. But she reaches some satisfactory conclusion and rouses herself from the meditative reverie shortly after Devola and Popola introduce themselves.

     "Pleased to meet you, little ones," she replies. Her tone is still reassuringly warm, even with a head evidently filled with plans for bloodshed. "I apologize for not introducing myself sooner- didn't know if this was an appropriate occasion for sharing names. I am Septette Arcubielle, daughter of the world tree." A bit more fanciful than she usually goes for, but this seems like a world where flowery titles are almost expected.
Starbound Flotilla     Moonfin nods firmly. He clasps his hands in front of him, shutting two of his three eyes. "I see. Certainly a grim position to be in. I understand the need to speak to those from outside your home world, if so many local forces have such little potential as a proxy force against him. It is precarious, to say the least. And you would have little else besides the temple to offer him as well, considering how much I would expect such a prize would entice a being so ambitious. And if it were offered, you would become little more than a puppet."

    He taps his index fingers together. "Hmmm. We will first see and understand what he has to say. Assess if there is some manner of diplomatic solution. Such prospects appear grim from the first angle, but perhaps they shall reveal their promise upon further examination. All power is a means to an end, and perhaps there is some end we may offer a greater means for." Devola and Alucard pipe up an interesting point. "Indeed. With such a reputation, I am sure you know of where he may be found, and how we may meet him. A diplomatic meeting, first, to assess the situation from more angles, and then I believe we could seek out a means of resolving this effectively, equipped with such a breadth of information."
Lin "Hnnnnnnnnngh." Lin's gaze sharpens CONSIDERABLY at this news, not to mention widens. Such a pragmatic approach seems to resonate with her. It even brings a smile to her. "Heh... good attitude. Reminds me of dad's approach to things. Wish he was around to hear that... ah, well. Old age even does in the Dragon-Blooded."

    She purses her lips a few times...

    "Dueling the fabled Bull sounds like great fun... but it sounds like he's going a bit far." She sounds apprehensive and uncertain about the whole matter...

    Not terribly worried if the Bull builds an Empire, maybe?

    Odd stance to take.

    With a sigh she stands up and stretches, a pensieve look on her face.
Bloody Revelations     "Right now?" Raneka ribbits. "Four of Yurgen's Solar Circle are known to have permanent postings, to the east and north, but he, and his trusted second, wander about his empire to oversee it. His Sorceress, Samea, maintains a Manse in the heart of the ice plains, which serves as a shared holy ground to the tribes, if I understand it correctly. Icewalks from all around the Bull's empire travel to and from it, for all kinds of occasions. It's called the Mother's Hearth."

    "If he is likely to be anywhere at the moment, it is there. If not, Samea certainly will be, and aside from Yurgen himself, she is by far the most powerful, and most important, person in his empire. She is a Sorceress of great strength and considerable age, and forms the backbone of his army's mystical might. He owes her a great many favours, it is said, and could likely beckon him with ease."

    The frog-lady nods to the fish-man. "You can understand our reluctance, yes. Though the Golden Bull has had fantastic success in forging together the barbarians, there is no doubt in our mind that he would trample on the safety, education and culture of our citizens in the name of adding to his war machine. The Anathema are not known for being easily swayed."

    "I . . . would have to recommend against a direct duel. Not unless you are supremely certain of your strength. Even before he became the Golden Bull of the North, Yurgen Kaneko was a powerful and highly experienced war chief, with decades of experience. His Exaltation has reversed the effects of time upon him, and only made him stronger; much moreso than any mortal man. His greatest strength may be his armies, but he leads from the front, and is no slouch with his daiklave. We have heard reports that he may have even come into possession of a Warstrider. Whatever you choose, do so carefully, and be even more careful about whom you may choose to send against him."

    Raneka, as the serving staff return, starts shuffling out what looks to be actual, honest to goodness, paper money, and graciously handles what looks to be the entire tab.
Tomoe Tomoe gets some imporant answers to a quesiton she asked. She gets that A solar is no laughing matter to deal with some of the advice about allies would be heeded wel. The undead and the Fae are out as far as she';s concerned for this. There is a gap of information though just why the Bull of the North /wants/ the place there's a good idea of why but tnot the exat reasons.

"I get it, easier to have a small group get in there. As for allies sounds like we have a lot of work to do. I get it, you have something, he'd snuff out something wonderful for his own empire building."

She also sees paper money used, cripes this city is far closer to her world in many concepts than she expected.
Starbound Flotilla     Moonfin nods, making note of all this on a dramatic holographic interface that suddenly flickers into being in front of him. "The Mother's Hearth." He says. "A poetic name. We shall visit it, pay it all due respect, and exchange words. I shall hear and understand the Golden Bull's power, his purpose, and his thoughts. From there, we shall know all that must be known to find our path forward, in a way that shall preserve the peace and harmony of the region as much as it can be."

    Albert grunts. "Our tactics don't involve duels." He says. "If we go against him, it'll be overwhelming force." He glances to Septette, and nods firmly to her, a momentary request, or maybe a promise. "Force to match a 'warstrider'." He gets the rough idea of what that means, and he knows how they'd approach dealing with it. A brutal precision strike is far more the Starbound style than some sort of dramatic one-on-one contest.

    Moonfin seems to finish his tea. "It has been a pleasure speaking to you, Centurian Raneka." He says, offering a handshake. "It is our hope that, when next we speak, we shall have a plan of action, a call of victory, or a trophy to prove our success. May your walls hold fast until that day, Centurian." He bows deeply and stylishly, before turning dramatically and leading the rest of the Flotilla on the way out.
Septette Arcubielle      The gears are almost visibly turning inside Septette's head as she matches Albert's conspiratorial look. 'Supremely certain in her own strength' perfectly sums her up, though whether that confidence is warranted varies wildly from opponent to opponent. "Outside of friendly sparring, 'duels' have never described the Flotilla well, no. Get in, concentrate force, jugular bite, get out." Overly simplistic, but it works for a general impression.

     "I have some drones I might contribute to the recon efforts- even if spotted and destroyed, they could not yield much information in exchange. And if we are meeting the Bull in his own territory, then I should certainly accompany you all as added protection, even if I can contribute nothing else." Arcubielle has a surprising knack for diplomacy and negotiation, too- it may be her only positive quality that she chooses to downplay.

     "Until then, thank you for the welcome reception, Raneka. Rest assured that we shall see what we can do to resolve the matter in as constructive a manner as possible." Interesting wording, not pledging her allegiance specifically to the city that's hired her. But then, the yggdroid's loyalty has always been to her own judgement over that of her benefactors...