Sol City was a strange place to the shaman, all spectacle, while hiding anything of importance from prying eyes. She'd noticed the pattern on her second visit, when she'd spent some time away from the markets and areas frequented by visitors. Right down to the way the street signs were placed, the Crown had designed the place to draw people to it's spectacle, not it's substance. The Market District was the Opus of this design, getting to and from shops was emphasized over space available. This meant only affluent businesses with powerful supply chains and fad resistant products would be able to thrive. What little housing the District did have was even more ostentatious, with elaborately landscaped yards, fountains, statues, heavy metal gates with hired staff... the list was endless... as was it's folly.

She'd come to speak for a winter seminar at the Mage's Guild. Academy students preparing for winter break, researchers and mages of all flavors attended the class. There were even a handful of merchants, mostly specialized tailors and weavers, though one man stood out as peculiar. He was plain next to the others of his social group, wearing muted colors and a sharply tailored business suit. Appearing to be a touch younger than the shaman, she didn't think much of his oddness at first. Having artisan friends to collaborate and consult with had given her insight into the nature of noble sponsors and the like.

The peculiar sensation began as she noticed him watching her, not seeming to care much for the information she was discussing, or the visual aids she'd commissioned from a friend in the city. Others would clap, ask intuitive questions or want to experience something for themselves. He just sat there with a sly grin that tickled at her intuition, waiting patiently for her to finish. Taking her time to pack and answer any questions, the shaman took a deep breath and prepared herself for whatever cavalcade was in store.

"Good day, miss Shitakibo, might I have a moment of your time?" He asked in a silvery, smooth voice. His voice was airy and reminded her of a high quality instrument, well tuned by a trained ear.

"You may, I do hope you enjoyed the seminar ser. Who might you be, and how might this humble shaman be of service?"

"I am Ser Devon Maximillion von Guilliman, Viscount of the High Courts and Affluent Entrepreneur. I come to you today in hopes that your renown and reputation are more than gossip amongst many visitors. My compatriots and I are putting on a celebration for others of our social circles, and would like to enlist your help to ensure we don't have any security issues. I have a private larder in my home that is currently stored with goods to be distributed to orphanages through our supply network."

"That does sound like a valid problem, but why seek me out specifically?"

"As I said, your name is often heard amongst our social circles, and spoke of in the highest of honors. Someone of such acumen could be trusted to ensure the security of my gala without drawing attention amongst those being introduced to our groups."

"Your predicament is understandable, and your reasoning at least seems sound... I suppose I could arrange to be there. Do you have details?"

Instead of answering, the man handed her a card from his coat pocket. On it was his name and an address, though it was scrawled with beautiful penmanship on some of the whitest card stock the shaman had ever seen. She turned it over to see a time and date written on the back. When she looked up, the gentleman was nowhere to be seen. Even stranger still was how he'd done so without the shaman's senses noticing, but she'd already given her word despite reservations.

The meeting was for the following day, just after mid-morning. Taki arrived a few minutes early to the address, showing the proffered card to the security before being escorted in by one of the estate's staff. It took a measure of discipline to keep her emotions from her features, such places perturbed something deep within the shaman... but this was not the time for such errant thoughts. Putting her focus to the task at hand, she sat down with the head of staff for a briefing.

The head of staff was an elven man of several eventful centuries. His sharp features had been weathered by worry and stress, his near alabaster skin streaked with the remnants of battles. He presented himself professionally and had put together a detailed itinerary that outlined the party, it's guests, food, serving staff... right down to who was arriving when and with what entourage... It reminded her of the choreographed performances theatrical dance troupes were known for. As the pair discussed the flow of guests and staff, she would interject with ideas about ensuring safety. As things were winding down, they were brought a tray of fancy pastries and some sort of drink she was unfamiliar with, though she recognized a curl of cinnamon easily enough.

"So, Miss Shitakibo, how is it you know the layout of this place so well when you've yet to be given the tour?"

"A shaman listens to the world around themselves, that's all."

"Come now... you mean to tell me what? the walls told you?"

"In a fashion, you could put it that way, yes."

"That's most peculiar... it's a shame... such an ability could be powerfully marketable to the right groups."

"Should someone find themselves in such a situation, I would be more surprised than you are this moment."

"What do you mean?"

"Some paths are compatible with one another, others are not... to me, to my training, such a person would defy logic."

"What is it you do with your substantial wealth then?"

"My wealth is indeed substantial, but it is far from financial." The shaman chuckled softly at the idea.

"How can one be wealthy, and not have wealth?"

"Truly, that is a fine question to seek answers to."

The man stared hard, presumably to discern whether Taki was giving them a hard time or trying to encourage them. While she applauded their intuition, she also was sad that such a skill was practically required in this society.

"I have another meeting to tend to, if you'd pardon my sudden rudeness. Our staff looks forward to working with you Miss Shitakibo, and farewell."

With that, the man turned to leave, heels clacking against the polished granite floor stones. She felt bad for the stones, and worse for the poor souls who toiled away just to make one face of such a magnificent stone slightly more pleasing to those who cannot see it as is. As she was leaving, escorted once again with a visitor's pass that reminded her of a guard's badge of office, some of the other vendors and visiting adventurers stared in disbelief. One even tried to bump into the shaman and pick her pocket, but she'd sidestepped his attempt and quickly scurried off into the crowd before getting spotted.

She headed out into the market proper, hoping to spot something to take her mind off tomorrow night, and the budding ball of angst that went with it. Unsuccessful, she headed across town to the Housing District, where she'd procured a room and board through helping some of the Inn's local farmers over the years. After having a meal and retiring to the cozy accommodations, she enjoyed her nightly routine before drifting off to sleep to dream of spirits and magic.

The next day, she spent an inordinate amount of time getting herself ready, having been given a list of do's and don'ts for social parties. Discouraged after several attempts to create an outfit that was both comfortable and functional. After several checks, and one last sigh of frustration, the shaman headed across the city via the same carriage service as the other nobles. Something was off about this entire ordeal, though even her intuition wasn't sure as to why....

It was a positively wonderful day for Morrigan Moonweaver to throw a wrench in someone’s plans.

The early winter evening was just this side of chilly, a light smattering of snowflakes in the air, and the purple fellblood was fitting themselves into something impossibly sparkly and bright. The latest in Zeinavian royal fashions, complete with gold jewelry and filigree, a dark lavender sash tied around their waist. A loose, airy outfit, despite the air’s biting chill. It was designed with desert parties in mind, rather than the windy, salty air from the ice-cold ocean. But fashion was infinitely more important than function, and sometimes the muse of beauty, cruel mistress she was, demanded pain as a sacrifice!

… Not to mention it made an incredibly convenient way to smuggle potions into places which they did not otherwise belong.

Oh, months it had been since the charlatan retired from the scamming business, hung up the mantle like a dusty old coat. A combination of personal turmoil left in the wake of their adventure with the shaman, Shitakibo, to retrieve the phoenix, and a sense of security in their own profession, and standing with the Consortium and Mage’s Guild. But even old coats had to be taken off the hook and taken for a spin every once in a while! These days their schemes mostly extended towards other criminals or reprehensible people who deserved it, so in a way, they were kind of scratching the itch for schemes and mayhem while doing good deeds! It was a win-win!

And though this particular venture wasn’t quite vigilantism in nature, breaking and entering a masquerade meant for the cream of Sol City’s crop of wealthy elite, but the rich robbed from common folk every single day so they figured that turnabout was fair play. Not to mention… Morrigan had a personal interest in this particular scheme.

They were interrupted by their musings by someone tugging on their silk shawl. Morrigan turned, grinning from ear to ear when they laid eyes on their young apprentice and incorrigibly shy sylvan elf, Ceres Celestia. She, too, had been dolled up for the party, acting as one of Morrigan’s guests and entourage. The pre-teen’s normal earthy dress and cloak was replaced with a cute, poofy ballroom gown, and her hair tied up in a bun; the change in attire seemed to make her uncomfortable. She stammered, wringing her hands out as she found her words.

“Master Moonweaver, are you sure about… this? Can’t I just stay in the wagon while you go help your friend, Miss… Miss Disease?”

“You mean Miss Plague?” Morrigan had to suppress a snicker at the wildly incorrect name. Points for trying, Ceres. “Perish the thought!” If they were strong enough to hold the wererat captive, then Morrigan was going to need all the bodies - er, assistance - they could get! “This is the perfect opportunity for you to learn how to mingle with royalty! Not to mention, a great test to see how the two of you will work together.”

They gestured towards the wagon’s other occupant, who’d only recently changed out of her mage robes into a rainbow-colored tunic, looking more excited than nervous. The wave-shaped pin on her student robes marked her as a student of the Sea Domain; the newest member of Morrigan’s entourage and the initial reason they’d come to Sol City. The Arcane Academy Winter Seminars were the perfect opportunity to acquire new students through completely legitimate and non-poaching means - which was how Morrigan had been able to meet the bright young Miss Ophelia Oluwandai, an elemental-blooded elf from the Crescent Isles, who’d miraculously heard of their reputation and jumped at the chance to tutor under them.

When addressed, she jumped into a three-fingered salute. “Excited for the opportunity to prove myself, Master Moonweaver! And delighted to help you rescue your friend, Miss Sickness!”

“Plague.”

“Right!”

“But are we so certain this is a good idea? You said that your friend was kidnapped because she’s suspected to be a Red Rogue, right?”

“Correct you are, Ceres Celestia! Supposedly this Viscount Devon Maximillion von Guilliman caught her unawares, while she was minding her own business near one of his warehouses! Besides, the good noble is not as innocent as he may seem, as he is willing to go above the law and unjustly take matters into his own hands. In this world, it’s innocent until proven guilty, and he had no proof that Plague had stolen anything!” The fact that she was robbing said warehouse blind was utterly irrelevant to the matter at hand.

Ceres Celestia still looked skeptical, but both mages were too eager to rub noses with people who had opulence dripping out of their assholes, and trusted their teacher enough to take them on their word. Thankfully, there was no more argument as Morrigan drove the Wagon of Wonders to the Viscount’s mansion.

The gilded building sparkled even in the dim light cast by dusk, as most of Sol City’s golden buildings did. Morrigan could not help but be a touch jealous of the gaudiness and ostentatious presentation of it all. This kind of casual, careless display of wealth was exactly the kind of pretentiousness Morrigan hoped to achieve! Oh, they’d relish robbing this man of his pride, and probably whatever fancy silverware they could get their sticky fingers on. They parked their wagon a little ways away, not wanting a valet to take care of it, and their entourage arrived at the party proper.

The charity’s festivities were already in full swing when Morrigan arrived - they were fashionably late, as such a disrespect for other’s time was both proper and common in high society. An announcer dressed in pompous frills was standing at the doorway, looking Morrigan up and down skeptically. Clearly, he wasn’t fooled by the finery.

“Name?” He demanded.

“Morrigan Moonweaver.” They flipped their braid over their shoulder, flashing the man a dazzling smile. “Otherwise known as the Wizard of the Wastes. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”

The announcer skimmed a roll of parchment in his hands before shaking his head. “You’re not on the list. Begging your pardon, Master Moonweaver, no matter how well-known you are, I can’t let you in.”

“Really?” They jutted out their lower lip in a pout. “I’m sure allowing a reputable member of both the Mage’s Guild and the Golden Consortium to make an appearance at the Viscount’s event would be quite lucrative. You know. For charity.” They flashed pearly-white fangs for good measure.

But the announcer only shook his head. “Sorry, but Ser von Guilliman’s instructions were very clear. No one whose name is not on the invite list be permitted entry. Can’t be too careful, these days.”

“Oh?” Morrigan’s tail swished behind them, resting their palm in their hand thoughtfully. “And why might that be? Does the Master of the Manor have reason to believe he might be in some sort of danger?”

The announcer turned pale; caught in an admission he’d clearly not intended to make. Shaking his head, the man waved his hand. “Never you mind that. You have my apologies, Master Moonweaver, but you and your attendants shall have to leave.”

“Are you sure about that?” With a magician’s flourish, they pulled a bouquet of heavily perfumed flowers seemingly from nowhere - a clever bit of sleight of hand and illusion. The bouquet, offered to the announcer, who took it with no small manner of confusion… until he held the flowers in his hand, and began to relax, the way one might around a dear friend.^[1] “And what about for a beloved acquaintance? Surely, you could make an exception for my sake? You know I mean no harm.”

The announcer nodded, as if this made perfect sense. “Of course. An exception for you, Master Moonweaver.”

Morrigan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek before sauntering away. Behind them, they heard the announcer boom, “Now arriving Dignitary of Zeinav, Morrigan Moonweaver, Wizard of the Wastes, and their esteemed guests!”

They smirked at the sound of that. Sometimes lying and having an overinflated reputation had its perks. Holding a confidence to rival the most self-assured nobles in Capitol Landing, the fellblood held their nose turned high, sweeping across the ballroom. Somewhere below this party, Plague was being held captive against her will. And given the hand she’d played in busting them out of jail the last time they were arrested, they owed her one. All they had to do was play along until they could figure out where the Viscount was holding her.

A dangerous game, indeed. But one of Morrigan’s favorite to play.

---

1. Charmer's Bouquet

Bringing Minions
Ceres Celestia (Earth Domain Apprentice)
Ophelia Oluwandai (Sea Domain Apprentice)

Bringing Pets
The Glitterlings (Bottle of Snowlings - Doesn’t Count against NPC cap)
Adult Form Bubbles (Adult Drake - Counts against NPC Cap)
Chiquitita (Griffon Songbird - Doesn’t Count against NPC Cap)
Junior (Blag Bog Leech - Dosn’t Count against NPC Cap)
Luna Rose (Mephit - Doesn’t Count against NPC Cap)
Nugget (Phoenix - Counts against NPC Cap)

Quest Name - Free the Red Rogue
Participants - Exactly Two
Requirements - 6 Posts, 200 Words Per Post
Rewards - +2 Renown, Access to RotR Shop
Description Popular red rogues from past years have been assaulted and kidnapped by hired goons, nobles wanting to keep them until after winter. Many of these rogues are being held captive in camps all across Charon, and need to be rescued. If the Night of the Red Rogue is to happen this year, then those rogues need to be freed! Help us by going in, fighting off the hired mercenaries, and freeing the Red Rouges before Winter's Crown!

Part of Taki's desire for using the same carriage service as the party guests included seeing first hand what life as a Noble truly could be like. While she'd earned a name for herself over the last year, rarely did she let herself indulge in such frivolity. It was nice, despite the perturbed look on the driver's face when she'd first stepped out from the Inn. She took no offense, but did pity the gentleman for his narrow viewpoint... it wasn't hard to understand why though, even amongst her already peculiar species she defied their morphology. Now that her life had gone through more changes, so to had her physical form.

Standing at 5' 3", her serpentine features had mostly returned to their previous state. Her scales were a fine, cerulean blue that highlighted crimson slits, with three pairs of arms along her torso. Her hands and feet ended in sharp, semi-retractable claws, gills fluttered against her neck and collarbone area. Part of the difficulty in picking an outfit had been an attempt at forcing the shaman to play a human-centric role, hiding her strange form from guests as not to frighten or upset them... Pity that so many thought the same way the driver did, but there was no easy fix for these changes... not anymore at least.

Memories of recent events played out in the shaman's mind, recalling moments she'd barely had time to think about then or since. What had started as a debate on an open forum had quickly escalated into a full-blown disagreement with much of the Druid community. They'd shifted gears, becoming a more martial organization that took a hard stance on many subjects Taki herself found to be unsettling. After a brief but heated argument between herself and several members of the leadership, she severed ties with the group altogether.

It had meant leaving Shuna in the care of a trusted colleague, and setting aside a part of herself that had felt like home for a long time... but change was inevitable, and the shaman wasn't immune to it. She threw herself into the Mage's Guild libraries shortly afterwards, following her mentor's teachings to quickly learn to wield the magic of the Sky. Compounding these changes were the recent completion of her Guild training, adding to her roster of companions in two wonderful forms... and the Ak'ka Incident... Taki blushed softly and shook that thought aside.

In what felt like a few moments, the carriage came to a stop in front of the Viscount's Manor. Taki stepped out in an elegant outfit, her hand crafted cloak and broach helping cover her many arms and enhance the illusion she wasn't out of place. Her outfit beneath was a layered garment of fine silks, patterned with a combination of flowers and geometric shapes that were tied with a wide sash. She floated a few inches off the ground, a cushion of air swirling gently under her which allowed her to keep her typically bare feet without upsetting those attending.

Gently sliding along, she followed an attendant into the manor and through it's halls. Within, a small army of staff moved about in chaotic coordination. She did her best to navigate the hectic pattern of movements, not wanting to disrupt the flow of their work. The attendant brought her through the cavalcade, past the main hall being decorated lavishly, and into a small hallway. There, the Viscount himself stood, in what could only be described as a gaudy riot of noble posturing. Beside him was the head of security, in a suit similar to the other male staff, who bowed as Taki approached and took his leave to attend other matters.

"I do hope our little soiree isn't too much a spectacle, it's good of you to join us. I trust your ride was pleasant?"

"It was comfortable, and you seem to have put on quite the production for something you call little."

"While our party will be hosting many nobles, it pales in comparison to an event when the royal family is on the guest list. Should you have the opportunity, I would strongly recommend attending."

"I can only imagine such a production, having attended their last public announcement event... it was extravagant to say the least."

"Ahh yes, that was quite an interesting way to announce their intentions. I had no idea you were attending, but then getting to visiting an entire city would be a feat to anyone. Either way, thank you for joining us. The larder in question is deeper within the manor, but this is the only door in or out of that part of my home. If you could keep out anyone who isn't wearing a staff uniform through the party, I would be in your debt in a very significant fashion."

"Very well, the task at hand seems straight forward enough. If it's alright with you, I'd like to take a quick walk about while things are setting up, so I'm familiar with the layout of the grounds and have a moment to create a few preparations of my own."

"That shouldn't be a problem, though you've only got about an hour or so... I'd like you here when there's going to be an influx of strangers."

"That I can ensure you, and thank you for consideration. Enjoy your event and the evening ahead."

Taki bowed politely and took her leave, exiting the building and out into the courtyard. She took a walk around the grounds, noting possible escape routes and other security risks. She found a secluded spot, in a quiet corner far away from the main building. There was a small, well tended garden with a tasteful set of stone furniture nestled into the short walled area. Taki took the opportunity and sat down in the lush greenery, pulling a small leather pouch from the folds of her outfit. She took a short break, a small trickle of pungent smoke the only sign anyone was in the area. When she'd finished the quick break, she finished her rounds and took up her post as the party's catering and other time sensitive setup was taking over the building's traffic.

Much of the milling about went smoothly, though she did occasionally have to redirect a wayward apprentice. As the last of the setup concluded, the building grew quiet for a short while as the first of the carriages and their drivers arrived. Announcements of name, title and other acumen rang out through the halls of the building in a steady rhythm as various guests from across Charon's social elite filed in. According to the schedule, everyone should have been arriving and ready for the planned events by mid evening. The event would last approximately three hours, after which guests should be on their journey home within about thirty minutes. Things progressed smoothly, though there were a few fashionably late arrivals.

“Now arriving Dignitary of Zeinav, Morrigan Moonweaver, Wizard of the Wastes, and their esteemed guests!” The announcer rang out. The shaman's eyes widened, her senses suddenly on high alert. Not only had her esteemed friend not been on the guest list, but it meant there was some motive for their presence. She moved from the very obvious post she'd been casually occupying, engaging in light conversation with the occasional curious guest. Now positioned out of sight of the entryway, yet still having line of sight thanks to the last minute addition of some leafy bushes to the room's décor, the shaman watched for Morrigan with eager caution.

Morrigan had attended parties before, of course. A good part of their adult life had been spent in glitz and glamor, jumping from event to event to play with nobles and cement their reputation amongst them. All the while, coveting what they possessed.

The sin of envy. That had always been Morrigan’s downfall.

Tonight, though, they rested quite comfortably on the laurels of their own false reputation. Despite their short stature, Morrigan’s head was held high, nose turned towards the ceiling, as if they belonged there. And truly; they believed they did. Even amidst the chaos, their bright attire and aura exuded arrogance and wealth. Where they moved, heads turned. Whispers followed where they tread, dripping in awe and envy. Whatever initial shock might have been accompanied by their unexpected arrival, it had died down with the rumors of the Wizard of the Wastes and their exploits in protecting Zeinav, most of which were entirely untrue. One could almost believe Morrigan truly belonged here.

Well. Almost everyone.

Morrigan was so absorbed in themselves that they’d yet to notice Miss Shitakibo in the crowd. But oh, she’d certainly spotted them, and whether she knew what their true missive was here, she knew they had a special proclivity for mayhem and disorder followed them like a bad hangover. She was right to be cautious, especially when she’d been hired to keep the peace. It was not her fault that she was ignorant to the captive currently being held in this party’s basement while the elite continued to gorge themselves on food and wine until they became as fat and happy as glacier ticks.

And perhaps Taki was right to be suspicious.

It was considered desperation to talk to someone else first when just arriving at a gala, so Morrigan grabbed something to drink and waited for someone else to approach them. All the while, they made a halfhearted attempt at scanning their surroundings…all the while admiring the fineries that were kept on grand display. Oh, I love those drapes, they’d look absolutely gorgeous in my room at the apothecary - and, oh, I should filch one of those candleholders and pawn it… and so on and so forth.

At this point Morrigan’s students had already left them be to wander the party on their own.

“Excuse me!” An unfamiliar voice called from the crowd. Morrigan perked up - unsurprised to see the gracious host himself had deigned to visit the unwelcome guest making waves in his party. Morrigan didn’t bother with a bow or curtsy, merely clapping their hands together and spreading their arms out wide, as if greeting an old friend.

“Ah, the good Viscount himself! I was wondering when you might grace me with an appearance.”

“That makes one of us.” The viscount replied irritably, sidestepping Morrigan’s embrace. “Forgive me for insulting, Master Moonweaver, but I was not aware you were in town.”

“Right, of course. Otherwise I would have been on the guest list, naturally!”

“Naturally.” Said the Viscount, with the air of someone who’d not been planning on inviting Morrigan at all. He cleared his throat, trying best to think about how to get rid of the unwelcome rat who’d overstayed their welcome. Eventually, he cleared his throat and found the tact. “Well, I hate to see you go after you've just arrived, but we’re quite full up tonight, and we weren’t ready to account for unexpected guests…”

“Really?” Morrigan’s eyes widened, putting a hand to their chest in mock-offense. “You’d turn me away when I came here for charity? And here I was, planning a special little magic show to drum up attention and interest for your cause.”

The Viscount remained silent, allowing Morrigan to press the advantage - a scorpion driving its stinger into its prey, waiting for the right moment to release the poison.

“It would be quite ridiculous to send me away when I’m here for charity, no? Such an action might send the message you don’t really care about your cause, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Lady Kamille would be proud of the way Morrigan batted their eyelashes, affixing baby-doll eyes like a hapless maiden.

And thus, the Viscount found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. The cover he’d so elaborately created for this gala, all to hide the prisoner hidden somewhere around here; turned into the very social norm that allowed the Red Rogue to sneak into his event. He hemmed and hawed, a bead of sweat growing at his temple. “Well, there’s no need to cause a fuss.”

“Exactly!” Morrigan reached up to pat him on the cheek, snaking an arm around his shoulder. “Now, let’s talk displays. I’m thinking a fireworks show…”

While Morrigan led him away, their apprentices set out. Ophelia made her way to a little corner, glancing around furtively to make sure she was alone before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a bottle. A small pile of living snow-glitter was contained inside, which Ophelia poured on the ground. The Sparklings^(Snowlings) took shape, skittering around on the ground on stubby little feet. Ophelia smiled, patting one on the head.

“Spread out, little fellows.” She whispered. “See if you can find anything weird!”

Meanwhile, Ceres Celestia looked completely lost and overwhelmed amongst the crowd… she’d never been in a room with this many people before, even at the Arcane Academy. Torn between not wanting to disappoint Master Moonweaver, and finding some place quiet and safe to hide, Ceres wandered around aimlessly, until she spotted a familiar, though unexpected face. She smiled, skipping her way over to the orochi, who was half-concealed in some bushes, and tugged on the woman’s garb.

“Hi Miss Taki! What are you doing over here? … Hiding from someone you don’t like? Can I hide with you?”

She could hardly believe her eyes, not only had Morrigan themselves arrived, but so too had their entourage. So much for keeping a low profile... It was only a matter of time before one of the notorious 'magician's' group to notice her, and that could cause an even greater stir. Part of her wanted to sneak off to a closet for a quick break in that moment, she deserved a bonus just for this change of plans.

Warily, the shaman watched their group schmoozing and enjoying the party. While she was able to split her attention, her professional demeanor did falter slightly. Someone nearly walked right by her before she was able to stop and address the young lady. Something strained passed the woman's features, though even that was difficult to discern with her elaborate make up. She wore a finely tailored dress with a loose fit through the shoulders that almost seemed painted onto what parts of her torso it did cover. The poor girl looked on the verge of tears, but the area was still off limits.

"I'm sorry miss, but this area is for staff only, you'll have to direct yourself to the guest restrooms."

".... oh... ummm... I won't touch anything but I really..."

"Please miss, I'm just here as security and the host has deemed this area private... Do you need someone from staff to escort you?"

The girl paused for a moment, the idea bringing a glimmer of hope to her circumstances.

"That... that would be appreciated... I would like to leave safely, though it might not be possible..."

"We'll do what we can, please take a seat."

Taki led the girl to a long bench near one of the serving stations just a few feet away. She instructed one of the staff to bring someone from the mansion's security team over before returning to watch over the party. It took the shaman a moment to pick up where Morrigan and company had meandered to. She followed their progress, spotting the decked out charlatan having a tense conversation with the host. Eventually he moved off, but the smug look on the fellblood's face hinted at the nefarious purpose for their appearance.

As the pair wandered through the party, Taki noticed Ophelia disappear around a corner out of sight. An uncanny calm washed over the shaman as she took a few deep breaths, her senses spreading out across the ground to reveal the movements and position of much of the main hall. While she couldn't tell much in the way of details, she could tell Ophelia was pouring something out that scattered through the hall largely unnoticed. With her eyes partly closed, she didn't notice Ceres had spotted her while trying to track the dispersing phenomenon.

“Hi Miss Taki! What are you doing over here? … Hiding from someone you don’t like? Can I hide with you?” The young, enthusiastic apprentice greeted, tugging gently at her Kimono. A look of surprise passed over the shaman's face as she gathered her attention to the lass... Perhaps this was a serendipitous opportunity though, and Ceres might slip what their plans were.

"Why Ceres Celeste, it has been too long. I had heard the announcement but could hardly believe my ears, or eyes, that you and your Master were attending. What pray tell might have spurred our dear Morrigan to attend such a proceeding?" Taki asked, embracing the timid girl with her two bared arms, doing her best to keep her tone jovial and nonchalant.

Through a rather long and boring conversation that involved an inordinate amount of flattery and appraisal of the nobleman and his lodgings, a veritable verbal assault in which the Viscount was too thrown about every which way to think too much about the information Morrigan was extracting. Though much of what he had to say was merely showboating and showing off his wealth, Morrigan did manage to learn a few interesting nuggets that they tucked away for later.

The first, being that he was so worried about security that he’d taken on some hired help to ensure the function’s smooth operation. Given that they couldn’t make out any armed guards, Morrigan was inclined to believe they were either disguised as guests, or even the help. The second being that he had a rather expansive wine collection… one that required a hefty cellar to house all those drinks. Despite it all, Morrigan did not see any servers toting around bottles of vintage port or dazzling rose for the guests, which meant that none of the servants were allowed in.

Even Morrigan’s attempts to ask for a tour had been rebuffed, the Viscount changing the subject and waving Morrigan away with a handkerchief. “Oh, enough about my collections. You promised a show, Master Moonweaver, and I intend to see one if you’re to stay here. Off with you.”

Oh, there’s going to be a show, Morrigan thought with a devilish grin. Just not one of spells and wizardry.

“And a wonderful evening to you, Ser von Guilliman. Such a wonderful party you’ve thrown, here. I intend to enjoy every second of it.”

Successfully having annoyed their host into allowing them to stay, Morrigan set off through the party with free reign. The Sparklings skittered under feet, finding little of use save a couple of coins thrifted from the grounds, which they carried back dutifully to Ophelia, who munched on the grapes and coins they brought. She brought one to her mouth and bit it; the test more habit than anything, as she doubted the richest people in the world would walk around with counterfeit money. Yep - it was solid and real.

“Well that’s nice… but it’s not really helpful, is it?” She muttered to herself, scratching at her head, when Morrigan appeared at her side, throwing a hand over her shoulder so they could whisper with a little more privacy.

“Ophelia! I’ve intel straight from the horse’s mouth that the wine cellar is out of bounds on this eve. Suspicious, no?”

Ophelia nodded so enthusiastically she almost knocked her hair out of its carefully styled bun. Gosh, she’d been skeptical when Master Moonweaver said that there was something possibly nefarious going on at this perfectly innocent party, but perhaps there truly was more going on than met the eye! “What kind of gala prevents access to the wine cellar?” She glanced down at the champagne flute in her hands. “Then what in the world is in the drinks?”

“Never you mind that!” Morrigan said, then paused, then reached for the flask contained in their silken robes. “Here. put this in your drink and get going. I need you to see if you can filch the keys off of the Viscount with the Sparklings. I’m going to case the perimeter and see if I can’t find an alternate way in.” And possibly steal some of the furniture while I’m at it. “Plague is counting on us, Ophelia. We’ve got to take care of this no matter what, understood?”

“Got it!” She saluted them once more, collecting the sparklings while Morrigan set off at a casual pace, socializing with others, flitting from person to person across the ballroom. Their plan was coming to fruition, and by the end of the day, Morrigan swore they’d find Plague one way or another. Whether it was through subtlety or mayhem.

Meanwhile, Ceres Celestia threatened to ruin all of that.

It was unfortunate she was too honest for her own good. She knew Morrigan had told her to keep most of it secret, since they were on a special important mission… but it was Miss Taki. She could trust her. She beckoned for Taki to get closer, waiting patiently until the orochi was within whispering distance. “Ummm… Master Moonweaver said it had something to do with dispensing due justice. I think their friend got sick, or something?”

Taki listened to Ceres' explanation, pondering it's meaning for a moment before responding. "I see, perhaps you should make ready for whatever the good Master may need you to do dear." Taki pat the girl's shoulder gently and sent her off into the wild crowd once again. With that tidbit of knowledge, the shaman weighed her options. She didn't want Morrigan to face any serious consequences, though they were known to blunder into plenty... Plus, Morrigan's idea of right and justice... well, that was as shifting as their glittery thoughts were. She needed a good way to grill the Master themselves, Morrigan might have been deceptive to most, was indeed very charismatic and convincing for the unwary... but Taki had seen plenty of what lies beneath for the Wizard of the Wastes.

She took a quick inventory of the situation, it's possible ins and outs, coming up with an improvised counter to Morrigan's own schemes. She looked to one of the staff members and called them over. The man seemed skittish, though as to why could only be guessed.

"Good ser, would you kindly have the Viscount step in my direction when he has a moment?"

"Oh.. .Ummm... Yes, right away Miss.." The man scurried off through the crowd, while the shaman continued to think. What in blazes was going on here? Who could she trust in this situation... Was Ceres being toyed with, or had Morrigan truly believed they were doing some good? Was their employer keeping some secret that need exposing? There were many unknowns and the shaman needed answers. Deep breaths, and the shaman calmed down to analyze what was going. Her senses reached out to their limits, scanning the area not only of the party but much of the manor at large. In her mind's eye, she toured the off limits area.

It was, at least on it's surface, as advertised. Shelves stacked with goods were arranged and organized in meticulous fashion, with a wide entryway for larger carts. There was one corner though, that drew the shaman's attention. It was one of the few times her Geomagnetic Sense wouldn't pick up anything within or beyond, some magical ward against any form of scrying, probably woven with an illusion spell... no matter, time would reveal the truth. She let out a long sigh and brought her focus back into the moment. Things were never easy, or as they seemed... a lesson that had become a cadence to the shaman's life.

As she was pondering what to do next, the Viscount had extricated himself from the party for a few moments.

"You sent for me? Has there been some problem?"

"Not as of this moment, but I would be wary of one arising. Perhaps our uninvited guest is up to more than they seem?"

"Master Moonweaver has assured me they're here purely in support, to add a spectacle of some kind to the party in hopes that it might gain us both favor."

Taki looked thoughtful for a moment, then for the briefest of instants a sly grin crept up her features. She quickly replaced it with a professional and courteous smile.

"We should have the occasion announced then!" She said excitedly, smacking her fist into her palm for emphasis. "I am familiar with Master Moonweaver myself, and I know that they love a good surprise, and any excuse to enthrall a crowd, what better way could there be?"

Von Guilliman pondered the idea a moment, the wheels turning in his mind. He smiled, nodding as he walked across the room quickly. Taki bowed politely and returned to her post, though in a more obvious and visible position. She watched the room and tried to relax as she awaited the coming announcement. Her gaze swept over the room, first catching Ophelia, then Ceres... and lastly Morrigan, who she followed intently as the announcer stepped up to the podium.

"Tonight, Lords, Ladies, and Dignitaries all, House Von Guilliman is proud to bring you the magical stylings of the one and only Wizard of the Wastes!" A hush fell over the crowd as folks gathered around the grand ball room, before a thunderous clapping at the sudden announcement brought the spotlight of the party firmly into Morrigan's graces. Taki watched it unfolding, grinning as her gaze met the Fellblood's finally...

Ceres Celestia nodded, completely trusting of the reptilekin whom she’d worked side by side with several times in the past. Morrigan was her teacher but she’d always found she learned from Taki, who’d so patiently and kindly helped her better understand her magic. Morrigan pushed her out of her shell, but Taki had helped her look inward. She had no reason not to trust the shaman, or her master. Time would tell whether her trust in either of them had been misplaced. She nodded, a bright smile growing on her face.

“Right! I’m supposed to be looking for something. You have fun, okay, Miss Taki?”

She started skipping away when she stopped, thoughtful. She turned back to Taki, curious. Miss Taki was smart! Maybe she could help. “Um, before I go, do you know if there’s anywhere around here that someone might hide a Plague? That’s what Master Moonweaver said to look for.” Then, quieter, “They said the Viscount was hiding it somewhere. He didn’t want it to be found.”

She waited for Taki to answer, positive or negative; but it was likely the shaman didn’t have the answers Ceres was looking for. After all, the Viscount had not been entirely honest with her when he’d requested her assistance. She couldn’t have known about the Red Rogue hidden somewhere in this manor.

Still. Whether Morrigan had fed her lies, or the truth, there was still something fishy going on. A private gala, more security than usual… the kind of necessary precautions one only took when they expected to be attacked. Not to mention the charlatan’s presence in the first place. Little oddities that were starting to add up. Regardless of what Taki said, Ceres would nod, and return to exploring the party.

Meanwhile, Morrigan was socializing, fluttering around from place to place, a busy bee moving from flower to flower. They were keeping a careful eye on servants, trying to figure out where they were coming from… but none of them were moving to one place in specific. Some traipes up the stairs to private quarters, others moved in and out of the coat room. Most were running through the kitchen. That might have been Morrigan’s best bet if they were going to find the wine cellar anywhere, but that presented its own series of difficulties. Could you imagine this beauty shoved into a servant’s outfit as a disguise to slip through the kitchens to the basement unseen? As if all of this glamour could be shoved into a little white tunic -

“Tonight, Lords, Ladies, and Dignitaries all, House Von Guilliman is proud to bring you the magical stylings of the one and only Wizard of the Wastes!”

“WUH?”

Morrigan’s neck could have cracked at the speed with which it whipped around, the crowd bursting into polite applause - all alight at the prospect of a surprise entertainer! Such a grand surprise that even the alchemist themselves had not been aware of it. But what the hell could have…

It was at that moment, as the fellblood scanned the crowd, that they finally spotted a face among the crowd. A familiar face. One whose gaze danced with a mirth uncharacteristic of their usual poised demeanor.

Oh, you sneaky snake.

What in the world was she doing here? A glamorous party seemed the furthest thing from Shitakibo’s scene. She who was ever the spiritualist and the intellectual. And perhaps, too, a philanthropist, seeking to aid a good cause. What she was doing here, though, didn’t matter; what did was that she’d evidently decided to put them on the spot, all for a little laugh.

Oh, they hated her as much as they respected the play right now.

In their confusion, the applause grew, urging them on, all bored, fat, happy elites looking for a little show, to see the kind of magic a grandmaster from Zeinav might have in their repertoire. Well. Morrigan had spent over fifteen years making a name for themselves as a wizard through clever illusion and sleight of hand, hadn’t they? They could do so again.

Of course, the smart and rational thing to do would be politely decline, coming up with some excuse about why they didn’t want to perform. They still had to find Plague, and their entry had caused enough of a splash. They needed to keep their head down low and find where she was hidden before they got kicked out.

So naturally, Morrigan didn’t do any of that.

“Why, of course, I’d be delighted to entertain the good people of Zeinav with a few little paltry tricks!” They announced, their silken robes swishing behind them with their bow. When they straightened, they winked at the audience. “But nothing too flashy, okay? We wouldn’t want to burn down the good Viscount's home!”

Clapping their hands together, Morrigan summoned a fireball to their palm, the spark smelling of ozone and cheap tricks.^[1] It was a minuscule little effect, but what drew the crowd was the mesmerizing movements that accompanied it. As Morrigan balanced the little flame in their palm, the fire licking their fingers without burning, they moved their hands together and began waving it around with the expertise and skill of a trained fire dancer.^[2]

All the while, they maneuvered their tail towards the Bag of Wonders.^[3] While they didn’t really need to do this, Morrigan was more than a bit petty, to the point of forgetting what they were supposed to be doing here in the first place. With a twirl, they unleashed the contents of the bag.^[4,5]

Miss Shitakibo wanted a show? Morrigan could give her a show.

---

1. False Pyromancer’s Gloves
2. Alluring Trance (Bardic Virtuoso II)
3. Prehensile Tail
4. Jolly Bag of Gifts
iPfOvizv
5. Yasaka’s Summer Beach Bag

·

"I'm not sure deary, I imagine that is part of the lesson to be learned. Perhaps that is what Ophelia and the others are in search of as well?" Taki replied to Ceres' question before stepping away. The look on Morrigan's face could not have satisfied the shaman more in that moment. She knew well they were up to something sly, though as to what remained to be seen. She returned to her post to watch over the remains of the party while the crowd was enjoying their impromptu distraction.

She caught glimpses of the show, though couldn't see much over the shoulders of the taller folks at the back of the crowd. What she could see however were the handful of snowlings skulking about under the tables, in the shadows of carts, and otherwise trying to keep out of sight. This presented her with an interesting situation. On one hand, she could easily keep them at bay or have someone call Ophelia over to collect them... On the other, she could let them go unnoticed and have her own curiosity satisfied without having to lift a finger.

Perhaps she could even use their presence to find out directly from Morrigan why they were here. That would be the best outcome overall, though her employer might not see it as such. Still, much of this situation was beginning to form an unpleasant idea in the shaman's mind and she was resolved to keep her integrity. If there were things about this job that this Viscount wanted kept from the public eye, that was one matter. If they were involved in something more nefarious though, Taki would be sure to upend their notions that she was someone who worked for coin's sake alone.

Experience told her there was always more to a situation than anticipated, but that didn't always mean something negative. Perhaps this wine cellar was as it seemed, and the oddness within was the mechanism that kept it working. She'd met plenty of paranoid and fanatic tinkerers who protected their creations with powerful wards against outside scrutiny before. Of course, she'd seen the other side of that situation more than once as well. It was every bit possible such protections were in place against the prying eyes of authority, and held some new terror resting just beneath the city streets.

A snowling 'slipped' by, keeping itself low to the floor and moving from one shadowy corner to the next. She kept tabs on it's progress as it made it's way into the storeroom. There weren't many staff around, most had been directed to serve the mountain of snacks, drinks and offerings the kitchen staff were frantically preparing. Unimpeded, the little ball of fluff hopped about the rows of shelving. It would stop at random intervals and hop as high up as it could, likely to scope what was contained. After landing, it would move to the next spot and try again, until it came to the unknown region.

Something about the place seemed to excite the little creature, as it raced back through the cellar and up the stairs. As one of the workers was walking by, Taki stepped to the side for them, intentionally blocking view of the little fluff as it scurried back to it's group. Before long, they were rushing off again. A knowing smile slid across Taki's face. Soon she'd have her answers, and one way or another, this party would be one to remember.

“Hm?” It did not seem to register with the young mage that Taki already seemed to know the name of her other companion. She was generally just that trusting, especially of a woman she looked up to. Besides, Taki was right. Master Moonweaver had sent them here for a single, unified goal. “Oh, yes, that’s what Ophelia is looking for, too. Enjoy the party, Miss Taki! I’ll see you around.” She skipped away, making her way to the snack’s table looking for a drink. She thought she was doing quite good at this searching thing… Ceres hadn’t quite yet found what she’d been seeking for, but she’d already spotted one friend! A second one would be a cinch. Feeling content with her progress, she got on her toes to grab a pastry from one of the tables. Oh, but she couldn’t find anything that wasn’t a sparkling drink for adults… she didn’t want to have to inconvenience anyone, but she was rather thirsty, so she tugged on a servant’s shirt to get their attention to ask for a drink. He looked confused as to what she was doing here, but disappeared to the kitchens and returned a few moments later with a cup of fresh-squeezed starberry juice, which she sipped at while munching her pastry.

It was then she heard the commotion in the main hall… something about the stylings of Master Moonweaver? She perked up at the chance to see her master perform a couple of tricks. Morrigan rarely performed magic in front of her… which was fine, really! She knew that they were so mega-powerful that the mere action of casting spells was difficult to do unless absolutely necessary, lest they risk hurting someone. But sometimes she did wish Master Moonweaver would trust her a little more. At least she had the opportunity now to watch them while they were in the prime of their performance!

And what a spectacle it was. She clapped along with the audience while they juggled flame in the palm of her hand, movements reminiscent of sword dancers from Zeinav.

It was at that moment the performer in question procured two familiar items from their bag… a clear bottle of desert sands, and a candle. A wicked smirk grew on their face as they gave another twirl, tossing both items in the air. The bottle flew backwards, a harsh tinkling chime ringing in the air while Morrigan completed their spin and came back to face the crowd. And as sand spread across the delicate tile, a strange construct began to take shape, rising from behind them - and they caught the candle with one hand, inhaling and releasing a breath of pure flame in the sky at the same time the castle of sand took form behind them. The presentation was… gauche and needlessly elaborate. But charming enough the nobles seemed entranced by it, and enough of a spectacle they figured they’d done their part. Morrigan dipped into a low bow, a showman’s bow.

“Ladies and gentlemen and all things in between, this is but a taste of the myriad of delights you can expect from the one and only Wizard of the Wastes! Now, for the sake of our dear host’s sanity, I shall cut my performance short, lest anything get out of ha-AAAAAAND!”

Their diatribe was cut off by the sudden earthquake which rattled the very bones of the manor, brought on by Morrigan’s summoned sandcastle.^[1]. They barely managed to catch themselves before they faceplanted with the ground, but other nobles weren’t so lucky.^[2] The quake had sent the manor into chaos, screams bouncing off the walls, confusion and mass panic incited at once. Some tried to dash for the door, and bumbling guards fumbled with swords as if to identify a threat they could stab to fix things.

“THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!”

“VULCADREUS HAS RETURNED AND HE SEEKS TO DESTROY SOL CITY!”

“DEAR SOLARIA MAKE IT STOP!”

Amidst the chaos, only the snap of a fellblood’s fingers and the strange sensation of… emptiness was able to bring the golem’s spell to a stop.^[3] All at once the madness stopped; the ground went still, and the screaming died down… melding away into confusion as they parsed together what had just happened. It was at that moment Morrigan seized the situation with a wave of their hand, commanding the golem to dispel itself early. “Everyone, remain calm! It seems that some dark magical force about this manor has corrupted my golem… I have dispelled it for the time being, but I fear that there may be something unknown lurking in this manor. Something sinister.”

A hush fell upon the crowd, held aloft on bated breath, in only the way soft nobles who’d never known danger a day in their life might react… fear, and a touch of excitement at the prospect of being involved in something greater. Morrigan hid their smirk behind a charming smile that was just a touch too wide for their cheeks. “But never fear! As I have discovered this unusual and strange disturbance, I simply ask that you all allow me to travel throughout the manor uninterrupted so I may conduct my work! You fine people shouldn’t allow this development to ruin your evening. Please, sit back, enjoy the party, and allow the good wizard to take care of this.”

Applause as they made their way back into the crowd, and Morrigan knew they had everyone feeding out of the palm of their hands. Simpletons. If it was going to be this easy, then there really was no challenge, was there? Why, they practically had free reign of the place! And just as well, because as they rejoined the crowd, Ophelia Oluwandai returned to them with quite the delicious development. One of the sparklings had found something in the storeroom. Eager to find Plague, they made their way to the kitchens -

Only to find that same familiar face hanging around the entry. The one who’d been a thorn in Morrigan’s side the entire evening.

They halted, the smile on their face growing strained. “Why, Miss Shitakibo! I wasn’t expecting to see you around here. Did you miss the tail end of my show?”

---

1. Rumbling Tremors - Sandcastle Golem
2. Rooted Boots
3. Mark of the Mana Curse

Taki watched the show with mild interest, sensing the Golem's purpose a moment before the building began it's rumblings. Clever idea, give the folks a reason to be spooked and manipulate the outcome. She listened to the crowd, and Morrigan's own declarations as the charade progressed. She was having difficulty keeping the sly grin from her face as it all was unfolding, but she could see how Morrigan's charisma had played the crowd as easily as they breathed.

Soon enough, they would be making their way through the crowd, using this 'smokescreen' of a trick as an excuse to search the place. She always did enjoy the tet-a-tet of figuring out what Morrigan was actually up to, and found herself enjoying being the antagonist to their situation more than expected. Often her goal was to work with those she knew and was familiar with, so this situation provided a plethora of new ways to think about her goals. When the Wizard of the Wastes finally did appear, Taki's knowing smirk could not have been broader.

Dressed in many fineries and looking every bit as gaudy as the crowd, Morrigan's appearance was as much a show as their performance was. It always struck the shaman as strange that such shows were captivating to an audience, in an age when magic was studied so intensely. Human society still held many unknowns, and even more peculiarity... but such was the world.

“Why, Miss Shitakibo! I wasn’t expecting to see you around here. Did you miss the tail end of my show?” Morrigan's voice strained as hard as their facade as they approached and greeted the shaman.

"I am fortunate enough to keep my feet beneath me when things are shaky, Master Moonweaver. Your show, what I caught of it, was quite the spectacle. Prey tell, what brings you here this fine evening? Something must have caught your interest to deviate you from your other lucrative pursuits..."

Taki couldn't have put on a better show if she tried, her voice sweet and calm as could be. She knew Morrigan might spew any manner of answers to the question, and had armed herself with plenty of ways to upend their requests without making a huge fuss if needed... Though some part of her wanted to have an excuse to drag the Wizard out by their scruff, she also understood that this was a friend who was potentially going through the same measure of change to their life and way of thinking as she had been. Not to mention, having to be rough with Morrigan would likely upset her companions and hurt their friendship long term. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, preparing for Morrigan's response.

When it came to carrying out schemes, Morrigan Moonweaver liked to employ a strategy that we in the business refer to as flying by the seat of one’s pants. The premise was simple: why bother planning for every and any contingency when one could just allow things to happen and twist them to their advantage? It was why they’d been able to so quickly change their tactics when confronted with an unforeseen circumstance, with minimal stress in doing so! Now they had free reign of the entire manor…

Well, mostly free reign, if it weren’t for the Shaman’s decision to put an end to the backseat meddling and make her move.

Stay calm, Moonweaver. You haven’t broken any laws here. Yet. Shitakibo had no evidence to prove they were guilty or innocent or anywhere in between. Not wanting to give her any ideas, they spread their arms wide, greeting her the way one would an old friend. They strode closer to her, grabbing her shoulders and pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks in customary, exuberant fashion. As they pulled away, they assessed her dress. She certainly looked the part of a fancy noblewoman, and didn’t appear to have any concealed weapons - not that she needed any - and though her tone was coy and knowing, there was no way to ascertain what she thought she knew versus what she’d really discovered. Best not to give her any ammunition.

For you see, Shitakibo was a good friend, but they were also acutely aware of her staunch moral compass. Thus far, in all their adventures, they’d been on the same side of the law. But one misstep here and Taki might learn of Morrigan’s allegiance with the Red Rogues - or worse - the damage they intended to cause today.

“Why, you look positively radiant today!” They flattered, gesturing to her attire. “Though, I must admit my curiosity as to your attendance at an event such as this. Even though their cause is as noble as charity, I’d have thought your inclinations would have made such performative displays impossible to tolerate!” They let out a grandiose laugh, gaze sweeping across the ballroom once more.

“Right, right, of course, of course.” They smothered a touch of irritation at the realization Shitakibo had set them up for failure and not even stuck around to witness their rousing success, but… c’est la vie. Her machinations were beyond their ken at the present moment. “A shame you missed the tail end! It was quite the spectacle, and with an original twist ending!”

Oh, yes, she definitely suspected them of a nefarious purpose. Unfortunately for her, they were innocent of all crime except friendship, and Plague was innocent of all crime except robbing that warehouse that was practically begging to be robbed.

“What brings me here? What brings me here? The same thing that’s brought everyone here, of course! I was in town and heard that the good Viscount was hosting a rather lavish party, and I would be remiss if I didn’t make an extra special appearance to bolster the influence and word of this good cause - as a concerned citizen for… the orphans.” They were pretty sure it was for orphans.

They leaned in then, as if sharing a secret; glanced every which way before lowering their voice so only Shitakibo could hear. “But between you and me, I’ve reason to suspect that something deeper is going on here. Fluctuations in the ambient mana which disrupted my performance. As a fellow member of the Mage’s Guild and concerned citizen, would you be terribly troubled to scooch to the side and allow me to pass so I can conduct my official wizard business?”

Hey; there was no harm in just good old fashioned begging.

She listened to her friend's explanation, figuring at least the first attempt would be a boast for those in attendance. When Morrigan leaned in closer, and decided to share what they thought would be a stirring ruse for the shaman, Taki pondered the words a moment. Some part of it didn't make any sense to her, though she couldn't quite sort out why. The pair had shared a few adventures, but one in particular always stood out... the ruins. She recalled the trials, scaling the mountain, secrets and riddles, cages and choices, and facing the past... her father. She recalled the other man's face, though it was vague. She'd withstood her father's judgement, shown him her side and then... just went still. Though in that moment she knew the strain had overwhelmed her mind, her body had carried on and recalled parts of the conversation in a jarring mix.

---

"Well, guess what? You don’t have to make a fool out of me anymore." the man said angrily. "I know."

"How?" Morrigan managed to reply after several long moments.

“The truth!” Shouts the man.

“What? But… but that is the truth!” Morrigan replies.

“I don’t care about any of that.” He says, stepping closer.

“Trust? How can you throw around such lofty words like you understand them?"

“I didn’t do anything wrong…”

“I don’t know… why don’t you tell me, Wizard of the Wastes?”

“I didn’t fucking ask to be born like this, Kvasir."

"How long did you think you could go without casting a single spell around me?”

---

While the shaman understood the jumbled mess to be vastly out of order, the realization in that last sentence shattered Morrigan's alibi about sensing any mana or disturbances. She'd already taken too much time, getting lost in the jumbled recalling. Of all the messes, in all the places in Charon...

"Sweet Morrigan, remember your conversation on the mountain? The one with an old friend... You were not alone in that room, so please drop the act and be honest with me... I think I deserve that much at least... Put on your show if you must, for the sake of your other self, but I'd rather not be at odds... Why are you really here?"

Taki's voice was calm, barely more than a soft hiss, but it held a great deal of worry for her dear friend. While she understood that change took a different amount of time for each person, it also was a bit painful to see that Morrigan still held their friendship at such a distance. Despite all the posturing and social deception, there was a large part of the shaman holding out hope they'd have opened with why they were really here in private. Still, the oldest, worst habits were the hardest to break... sometimes you just needed a gentle reminder.

Morrigan had not forgotten that Shitakibo had been there to witness them at their lowest.

On the contrary, they remembered all too well.

The smile slowly slid off their face as she spoke; not because they realized she wasn’t particularly interested in playing any games, but because it was a physical stab to the heart to hear her speak so brazenly about their condition. It was the most painful, they’d learned, for someone to know your entire truth, and stick around despite it.

There were few people who knew Morrigan - not the Wizard of the Wastes, not the false idol, the legend built on lies, the larger than life figure - but Morrigan the person, and still bothered to stick around. Even fewer of those could Morrigan call a friend. Their companionship with the Shaman of the Southern Isles was, at times, an uncertain one. Shitakibo was a righteous person, not without her own personal values and virtues, but it was no secret that those of Morrigan’s criminal ilk were not her most favorite. Morrigan was so keenly aware of the power she held over him.

Power they knew she would never use for blackmail, but power she could use to destroy them nonetheless.

They thought of Kvasir, disappointment shimmering in his green gaze. They did not have to imagine it. They’d seen what it looked like for themselves, after all.

“Please. Not in public.” They whispered, eyes darting across the crowd of nobles whose attention still wandered over to the colorful charlatan and bodyguard in the corner. It was obvious, then, that the show was not for her benefit. It was not her they didn’t trust.

Hmm. Well, they’d tried the same old excuse, but there was one strategy Morrigan had yet to employ… the simple truth. It seemed utterly ridiculous, but if Astrid Stormstone, stubborn lass that she was, had taught Morrigan anything - it was that sometimes the truth was the most simple explanation to share. The idea set Morrigan on edge, like they were about to swallow glass, but they just had to try thinking of it as a persuasion tactic, didn’t they? Shitakibo was their friend but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t turn them in for breaking and entering. She’d clearly been employed here for a reason. But Morrigan wasn’t here for entirely selfish reasons; and they’d bet solars to donuts that she wasn’t aware of the rat the viscount was keeping in their basement.

It was worth a shot.

Morrigan did one last sweep of the crowd before raising their voice; enough to be overheard, but not loud enough that it was a shout. “Why, Miss Shitakibo, is that a wine stain on your dress? Why, this simply won’t do! We must rectify this situation immediately! I think I have a potion in my bag that can help clear that spot right up - Morrigan Moonweaver’s Stain Remover! If you’ll just pop off with me to the washroom…”

Assuming she’d let him, Morrigan would keep their arm around her shoulder and whisk her away, hoping that she would pick up on their not-so-subtle cue and come willingly.

They would lead her down a hall to a private water closet, gesturing for Ophelia to leave the crowd and follow along. The apprentice obeyed, skipping behind the pair and keeping watch for any prying eyes or ears snooping where they didn’t belong. Morrigan kept an eye out for any others to make sure they were completely alone before releasing their hold on Shitakibo, leaning against the bathroom wall. Even the paint in here was ostentatious - depicting cherubic angels of Solaria pouring out bowls of sunlight which were constructed in luminous paint that actually glowed, serving as a source of light in lieu of lanterns.

They crossed their arms, a playful smile dancing on their face while their hooked tail swished behind them. “Alright, Miss Shitakibo. You wish to know why I’m here, and I wish to be able to conduct business without interference. I think we both stand to gain something here. I assume that our mutual friend Von Guilliman has employed your services to keep the peace here. But I know you, Shitakibo, and I know first and foremost that you care about the people. But have you stopped to think about why the Viscount needed hired hands to protect a charity event of all things? Simple paranoia, or something more?”

They took a step forward, ice-cold eyes probing Shitakibo’s face for any reaction, any spark of doubt.

“Tell me, friend. What reasoning did he give you for his paranoia when he hired you?”

Taki watched the emotions flow across Morrigan as her words were processed, the sense of anguish it seemed to instill. It seemed peculiar to the shaman, to be abashed in such a way knowing you have companions who value your companionship with full disclosure. One's companions should be welcomed most at such times, for their support is better than any alchemical or magical healing. She understood well that a life of mistrust and deception often dealt a heavier blow to the one leading it than those kept at a distance, but watching Morrigan's struggles reminded her that her own life could have slid down that path if she were any different.

"Please, not in public." Morrigan whispered softly, the edge of panic in their voice unsettling as another thoughtful look passed over their features. They put on another short display for the crowd, raising their voice just enough to carry through the room.

"Why, Miss Shitakibo, is that a wine stain on your dress? Why, this simply won’t do! We must rectify this situation immediately! I think I have a potion in my bag that can help clear that spot right up - Morrigan Moonweaver’s Stain Remover! If you’ll just pop off with me to the washroom…"

While Taki could have easily stood firm and shrugged the fellblood off, she was both curious and considerate of their chosen position. Morrigan wouldn't give the shaman a straight answer, not when they were standing in a den of political vipers and other would-be enemies. So follow she must, though what could be awaiting the end of this journey was beyond imagining. Something Taki learned pretty quickly was to not try to predict an outcome around Morrigan, the fellblood had a habit of unpredictable flair... it often reminded her of the colorful circuses she'd seen in her travels. Troupes of folk performing daring feats of strength and dexterity, charming displays of comedic slap stick and absurdity... seemed like just the place Morrigan would thrive.

Her smile was genuine and kind as she stepped into one of the staff washrooms. Of course, watching Morrigan's shift in demeanor was always a fascination. They went from scrambling to confident as if the door behind them held some magic that kept the hungry snakes at bay and their ears deafened. In that moment, Taki understood that she wanted to help shield the fellblood from themselves and help show them that one achieves the most when working together with others. She wanted to keep helping, keep supporting them, and help them not feel so isolated.

"Alright, Miss Shitakibo. You wish to know why I’m here, and I wish to be able to conduct business without interference. I think we both stand to gain something here. I assume that our mutual friend Von Guilliman has employed your services to keep the peace here. But I know you, Shitakibo, and I know first and foremost that you care about the people. But have you stopped to think about why the Viscount needed hired hands to protect a charity event of all things? Simple paranoia, or something more?"

Morrigan stepped forward, eyes probing in a cold and calculating fashion. Sizing her up, watching to see if she faltered.

"Tell me, friend. What reasoning did he give you for his paranoia when he hired you?"

In truth, the entire thing had felt off from the start. Between the man's insistence on a rushed schedule, to his near panic that someone might enter this part of the manor. Then there was the business of the warded room, likely whatever it's contents were was equally of interest to Master Moonweaver as it would be to anyone who pursued wealth... but that assumed it contained wealth, or some other means of power struggle... Without knowing outright, it could just as easily be smuggled goods, animals... even people... the last two of which were upsetting to consider but she hid the concern amongst her thoughtful gaze, even as it stayed affixed to Morrigan's.

"To put it as simply as possible Morrigan, he stated that he did not wish the party disturbed, or his property. As to hiring more muscle... even I'm familiar with the tendency for 'Red Rogues' to appear this time of year and take from those who have and give to those who do not. If I were to guess, I would say that source is plausible, particularly if your gifts are of value. And you Morrigan, why do you think this paranoia besets him? Other than the usual politician level of neurosis, he seemed rushed in our interactions. Why are you here? You still haven't given me a straight answer..."