Dastardly Ritual

Polished floorboards creak underfoot, echoing off white, floral walls and filling the halls with life. Windows with rounded yet pointed arches let in the warm morning light through pulled-back, dark green curtains, and allow the sounds of morning birds to travel throughout the manor. Yuler admires the simple, yet elegant architecture as she passes through gothic arches at each bend and new hall, having managed to lose her way after leaving the quarters she had been given the day before. The Decwick's lifestyle was something she has only ever dreamt of, as living such a life in times like these... seems only a fantasy. As she continues to search for the stairwell leading to the primary floor, she manages to catch a whisper coming from somewhere not far off. With her curiosity getting the best of her, she creeps further down the hall; ensuring that she does not allow the hardened heels of her boots to give her away.

"All in due time, dear sister."

The voice of Samuel becomes clear as Yuler peeks her nose through a cracked door.

"You continue to say such things and yet I've seen nothing come of it."

"Well, it would be rather clumsy of me to rush when we've yet another year's cycle to have come and pass, would it not?"

A brief pause breaks the conversation before Samara responds once more.

"I suppose so."

"Just understand that this is to benefit the both of us."

Eager to learn more and partially unaware of her own actions, Yuler proceeds to lean further into the room; giving herself an eye on the twins. It immediately begins to widen as she watches Samuel pull a syringe from a large wooden box and proceed to carefully insert it into the swollen belly of his sister, who winces from the pain.

"Once we've finished up here, and our Nostrum friends have purged our lands, we will be able to move forward. Reestablish, if you will."

"As long as we are nearly finished with this aspect of it all, I do not care to concern myself with your rebuilding."

"Well, nearly finished we are."

Samuel extracts the needle as gently as he seemingly can, and with it, a now filled vial of yellowish fluids. Turning about on a swiveling stool, he places the vial back into the box and pulls free a second that is filled with a clear solution.

"I assure you, this will be the last time we need to go through this process."

"I know it to be." Assertively claims Samara, who watches as Samuel injects the solution into the same area in which he took the initial fluid. Once he has moved away from her and begins the process of locking up the contents of the box, Samara rolls her gown back down and over herself. "We've been at this project of yours for far too long and I will not be subjected to it in this way any longer."

As Samara storms towards the door with the stamping of her bare feet, Yuler quickly backs away and presses herself against the wall as best she can. Once Samara has exited she swiftly turns to the right and marches down the hall. Never looking in Yuler's direction. Taking a sigh of relief, Yuler begins to follow but comes face to face with Samuel before she can do so.

"Ah, up so early are we?" He gives the same cheerful smile as he had the day prior and waves a hand towards the end of the hall. "Please, after you."

"S-sorry, but I seem to have lost my way in these halls." She sputters, unsure of whether or not Samuel suspects her eavesdropping.

"Not to worry, Nostrum Yuler." He offers in a comforting manner. "I often lost my way in here when I was younger. New places always have that effect on people." As he says this, he lets his eyes wander over the hall, its hanging portraits of long-forgotten faces, and the windows between every other arch. "Come, I will guide you to the dining hall. I'm sure the others will have already beaten us there."

Yuler gives a nervous smile and bows her head with false gratitude.

As the two of them make their way through several more halls and down a flight of servant's stairs, they are quickly rejoined with Lee and Hael, who have already found themselves comfortable on opposing sides of the elongated mahogany table. As Samuel steps aside, allowing Yuler to pass him into the room, he waits for her to choose a seat of her own and proceeds to do a count of heads.

"I apologize, but were there not four of you?"

"Of course," Lee begins, gnawing at a stale buttered roll, "he was instructed to sharpen his instruments before we return to our works."

"Ah, an understandable measure." Samuel clasps his hands together and looks to the kitchen, where several staff members can be seen working over stoves. "Well, so long as he has found the grindstone and you lot are awaiting your meal comfortably, there are some things I myself must tend to."

Lee gives a wave of his hand as Samuel turns away and Hael shakes her head.

"Why on earth would you choose to stow away stale leftovers?"

"This here was made with some of the finest ingredients. Why should I waste something that is still perfectly good?"

"It's bread."

"Do the Decwick's seem... odd...?" Hael and Lee both turn to face Yuler, as if what she had said was greatly offensive.

"'Course not!" Spits Lee, still trying to chew his food. "The Decwick family once served with us under The Bethel. While that in and of itself is no great thing, these people are some of the very few I'd still trust with my life."

"Calm yourself, Lee." Hael rests an open palm on Lee's inner elbow. Then, turns to face Yuler. "While we may have our opinions," Hael turns back to Lee for a brief moment, then returns to Yuler before continuing, "some, stronger than others, the Decwick family has always been one which the people of Maciofim could rest their worries on."

"Their father was one of my greatest allies." Interjects Lee, sorrow filling his voice. "Not a day goes by that I don't think of that man." He then turns back to the doorway where Samuel had been standing and sighs heavily. "The blood in this family runs strong. That boy is a spitting image of the man I once knew. Nearing the age he had been at the time, too."

"Just in time, it seems."

Hael and Yuler join Lee in looking towards the doorway as Marne makes his way back inside. He watches as members of the kitchen staff carry out several platters of fresh foods and beverages, then chuckles out loud.

"Reminds me of our days at Keep."

"Let it not." Lee lets his eyes fall on the table and places the roll aside, so as to make room for his flask being in hand.

"Did you manage to find what you needed?" Yuler wonders, putting together a plate for herself.

"I did. I'm not sure this thing has seen better days." Marne pats the face of his cleaver, which now has teeth that shimmer against the light and sets it upright against the wall before taking the seat closest to Yuler. "Have we decided on how we will approach the Decwick's about information on the catacombs?"

"Let's be sure we can fulfill our favor to them first, before asking for one of our own." Hael takes a bite from a swirling roll that smells of cinnamon, then washes it down with a sip from her glass. "I'm not sure what they manage to concoct in these parts these days... but this is a fine portion of wine."

Yuler looks to the glass that rests in Hael's palm and acknowledges the yellowish color within. As she does so, she places the knife and fork she had been using aside, having lost what remained of her appetite.

"It's a shame we haven't managed to get our hands on any vials, yet." Expresses Marne as he takes a bite of his own food. "Given our time away from the field, I'd think it best we find a way to do so soon."

"Once we make our way towards The Bethel, we will surely find our fair share." Hael takes another swig from her glass before setting it aside and refocusing on the meal. "They should have stockpiles around nearly every corner."