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The Children's Gambit
Topic Started: Apr 15 2018, 05:54 PM (18 Views)
Reya Starlyght
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Verba volant, scripta manent.

Claude Shountawl, an almost stereotypical gentleman from the minor noble family of the same name as his last. It was a silly sound, pronounced a bit like show and tell, although the man obviously didn't seem to realize such as he tended to emphasize each syllable everytime he introduced himself. His self-importance was of little matter in the end, however, only a minor hinderance in the grand scheme of things. Gentlemen who dipped their hands in the underworld were more often than not pains to deal with, especially when everything didn't play out the way they had planned, or when then created a larger issue than the one they had tried to solve.

The small village of Zinnia was an excellent example of investment gone wrong, once home to a slightly illegimate magical research facility owned by the Shountawl lineage, one that had been led astray into the madness of cult worship and the like. So called radiation had spread across the town, turning those previously established with no power into raving mad mages, hell bent on summoning some sort of demonic entity, and those had a magic aptitude seemingly unaffected, although their power had been increased substantially while within the area, not without the drawback of being subject to human sacrifice in a way to appease a so called god. Or, at least, that was what the dear Mr. Claude had written.

The family had pushed the threat to society under the rug as soon as they had heard of it, obviously fearing public opinion and the chance that their riches could be stripped from them due to some obscure law. So, instead of calling the knights, who couldn't be trusted, or the guilds, who also couldn't be trusted, they had reached out to those loosely, or not at all, affiliated with such. Other noble families who were known to waltz with crime, mages whose absence wouldn't be noted from the world and didn't spill secrets easily, mercenaries whose mouths could be shut simply by putting on a bonus rate. Few had responded, however, and even less bothered to interact once details had been established.

All of that was probably why Leonidas had been contacted, in the end. A friend of a friend of one of his associates, he guessed, or something like that, was how the Shountawl family had managed to come up with his name. Clearly desperate, they had offered a lot of money, but it wasn't as though that was what had drawn him to the case. No, the situation itself was what had led him to his current location, a forested area between Belladonna, Dandelion, and the Mazahar Basin. The agreed meeting spot, were anyone else to show, and where Claude himself would supposedly be briefing them. Leonidas doubted such, certainly the environment would not agree with a fancy suit and shined shoes, although the blonde himself was wearing a navy blue dress shirt and tie compared to his usual attire, but nonetheless he waited, plucking flowers from a rose bush in almost complete oblivion of the thorns digging into his flesh. With about five or so, he arranged them in a bouquet, before pulling the petals off each bud in a bored fashion, scattering them to the wind.
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