Towards the glowing light that breaks the dark dusky skies of Legacies, eminates a sound. Unfamiliar to the residents but in common language that all can understand. Over the screams of the patients from the Asylum, over the cheers of the drunken partitioners of the Ten Bells and over the hordes of demons feasting upon their prey comes over the words, “Give back that which you have stolen. The meat bags of this realm shall suffer torment until the one has been returned.”. The voice echoes through the air, sending a deep unrest from it’s low grinding tone.

Have you ever felt like you wanted a career in investigation but your flair and tactics may have been excessive for the constabulary?
Are you just itching to test your skills in battle or espionage?
Is Perrywinkle just not your color?
Perhaps you’d like to look in the private sector?

We at Phantom Nest are holding a Hiring fare starting at 9pm tonight. Located on the corner of Liverpool and Canary Wharf enquire within. Equal Opportunity Employer.

(IM Grigori yardley if noones at the shop or you get lost)

A black cloaked figure smiled as he saw the people who were walking the street start screaming and shouting at the morbid and macabre image of the mutilated female. He waved his cape as he looked up at the ravens flying around and then he was gone.

Willow finally finds the newspaper and sighs as she sees the man behind the desk “Hello” she smiles and approaches “I was hoping you could run this for me…” she hands him the slip of paper. Watching him look it over, then nod she hands him a few coins “Thank you ver much.”

Notice in the paper reads as follows:

Toshiko slept fitfully this night. Tossed from one side of the futon to the next, murmured in her home tongue, whined. A cold sweat specked her skin, rewetting dried paint and causing it to run down her face like a mask. Then stillness. She laid like a corpse, barely breathing, heart so weakly thrumming that even a vampire’s hearing would not find it…

Blue eyes snapped open and she turned, bore a wide circle and stared around herself. She stood within the throne room of a grand palace, surrounded by armored samurai and well-dressed courtiers. An elbow jabbed agianst her ribs, her very sore ribs.

“Bayushi-san! Focus. Your brother speaks.”

She stared, confused, at the speaker and then turned and as she did caught her own reflection within a polished urn. She was a young man, dressed nobly and wearing a keenly crafted mask. Fingers rose to it as she turned toward the throne.

Prepared to listen, she found herself again opening her eyes She sat within lavish personal chamber, courtiers attended her. She caught the face of the young woman pouring her tea, drew her close so that she could study her reflection in the girl’s eyes. The same mask… A voice,

“Women, out!”

She started to rise and was pushed down by a hand on the shoulder, a chuckle rising as another man sat down beside her,

“Not you brother.”

The man wore the finery and crest of…an emperor? She froze, fearful that she’d gone mad.

“My brother…I know that you restrained yourself during the tournament. You should be emperor, but instead you allowed me to win. What I cannot know is why.”

The emperor sipped at a sake cup, motioned toward her own so that she would drink,

“It is because of this that I charge your duty to you in private. You can see threats to the empire that the others cannot, that I cannot; conspiracies, cults, plots against the throne. …Do you remember the story of the frog and the scorpion?”

She blinked, or thought she did, ready to explain to the emperor that he had made some grave mistake, but when her eyes opened again she stood atop a mountain. Mist swirled cool against her bare shoulders and made her shiver.

“Toshiko-chan?”

The voice was deep, so deep that she felt her heart shudder within her ribcage. Felt tears pricking at the back of eyelids. Turned, and saw before her the reflection in the waiting girl’s eyes, in the polished urn, made solid. He was an unassuming man, only a bit taller than herself, thin of frame with very long black hair and that same unique mask of red and gold. Hands too light for their size rested on her shoulders. She realized she wore only sarashi and fundoshi and moved to cover herself in shame.

“My lord, forgive me, I did ~”

Fingers touched her mouth and she realized that she stood now in lamellar armor. Black as night, and sparse enough to allow limber movement. Saw the reflection of her own mask in his. He spoke,

“Toshi-chan, do not worry of that. Walk with me.”

The two walked for what felt like days, through scenery that changed seamlessly. Mountains, fields, oceans, palaces, dojos, even other realms. The man spoke at length of her family, what they were, who they were, and most importantly why. Laced their entire history for her in detail so minute that it seemed impossible to remember…but she did. Absorbed the information like a sponge. Each time he paused the two would stare at one another, dark eyes and light meeting like shadow and sunlight. She would nod and he would continue.

He spoke of the source of their power, the methods of its use, the importance that it not be used lightly or shared with outsiders…

Finally, they came to stop in a grand okinawan garden. He sat at the edge of a fountain in its center and brushed back long hair. Unhooked the mask from his ears and revealed his face. It was beautiful, masculine, but something in it reminded her of her own. She dropped to kneel and he removed her mask, replaced it with his own and then press his forehead to hers. She inhaled the smell of almond and lilacs. His voice enveloped her.

“Remember the story of Arakaki Honami. She served the clan loyally for decades before her death. Afterwards, she continued to serve. Such is the power of Sosari loyalty. Such is the power of your blood.”

She felt warm arms embrace her, felt the stir of her own life’s energy whirling within and without.

“Happy birthday Toshi-chan.”

—-

With an echoing heave the girl awoke, shivering on the stone floor. Palms against floor she pressed to her knees and realized she must have thrown herself from the futon. Sat there in stunned silence and wondered what could have brought on such a feverdream.

Ophelia stops in at the castle and finds an official letter addresed to her from the Ambassador to Austria-Hungary. “What does Bandford want with me?” She breaks the official seal and begins reading……dropping weakly into a chair as she does so.

Dear Ophelia,
It is with deep regret that I inform you of the death of your brother in law Prince Alexander. This is the second Lowenhart man to die in my area of responsibility and it grieves me to write this. The Prince had been here in search of a woman he stated caused his brother and yourself much harm. Despite my warnings he pursued her into the woods where it appears he was killed by a pack of wild animals…………….

…the letter goes on with arrangements and words of encouragement but Ophelia’s mind no longer registers the letters on the page.
Alexander………..her mind flashes over their time together. Alexander holding her while she cried over Alastair, on horseback in the mountains, a smirk on his face when her horse stopped to eat flowers leaving her to lose the race to him, laughing because she bought a theater on a whim…………..finding her on the docks wounded and sitting next to her bed enraged that she was injured and he was helpless to fix it. She and Alexander making sweet love in front of the fire the night before he left…………

Dead? How could he be dead? Dropping the letter Ophelia buries her face in her hands and cries.

Waking up from her long nap she walks into the bathroom to fix her makeup and freshen up a bit.  With a groggy look on her face she looks up into the mirror and her eyes widen…what has happen to her eyes? Why are they changing? She tries to focus and blinks a few times to no avail they are still the same..Sighing a bit she places her hands under the water to splash her face a few times, “Oh my…what is this?” As she looks down at her hands backing up from the sink Iris trips over the rug and falls to the floor.  The perky smile she once had leaves her face as her eyes narrow in confusion.

After shaking her head and getting near her desk she grabs up the reciever of the phone and calls the constables office. A woman answers the phone in a almost irritating whiney voice, “Operator where would you like to connect?” she clears her throat and answers, “The constables office please this is Dr. Iris” The operator replies, “Oh yes Dr, Iris, right away” as the phone makes  a click a couple times the next thing heard is a  man with a raspy voice picking up the phone, “Constables, what can I help you with?” ..”Good eve sir, this is Dr. Iris..I need an officer to come to the hospital right away please there has been someone defacing the property again” He makes a another raspy sound as it is clear he was waking up fully now, Iris rolls her eyes and then he responds, “Ahemmmm, uhm, yes good Doctor a constable will arrive soon” “Thank you constable…I will wait for them to get here..please hurry if you will this is awful” Hanging up the phone she sits down and does some paperwork while waiitng for the officer to arrive.

Around the areas of beyond darkness, the sky seems to get cloudy and stormy… slowly a hole appears through the clouds and something the size of a body can be seen falling to the earth….

Had been opening boxes all day. Koi was as giddy as a a naughty spirit. Her still freshly cut hair, tucked absently behind her large, pointy ears. She stood in the dim light of what was once a cabaret and counted her new inventory “Vampire fangs…check. Earthworms…check. Spiders, snakes, fish eye…check. Petrified butterflies, petrified toads, petrified troll fingers…check. Petrified troll testicles…” Koi would pause and reread the label. She’d snicker and continue. “Check!” she’d say.

Koi felt things needed to change. Her lover and shadow keeper was now Vice Mayor of the city. After sustaining a grievous injury less than two weeks ago, Koi returned again to the world of the living. Well mostly living. She returned with stronger powers and a different purpose. No longer did she feel the need to prance and dance for anyone. No more did she wish to throw parties and serve absinthe.

Necropolis Consignment will be a modest Occult shop carrying common ingredients for the budding alchemist or the experienced potion maker. She will also accept appointments for divination, offering this lost art to London.

Necromancy was once used to raise the dead so that the future can be prophesized. Koi will deal in trading and selling of rare magical artifacts. Fees for housing artifacts at Necropolis are negotiable.

-Necropolis Occult Consignment Shoppe

Coming Soon to Vamporium

In the holy land protecting her prize, she felt weak knowing the link to her creator was severed. She had managed to make it to the place where she kept the vamp’s body but was too weak to keep him secure. As she slipped into a final sleep she cursed him one last time with parched lips and drooped wings. “Burn!” She shrieked and fell into the sand watching him slip away. Was her curse realized? One thing for sure, Talisa would never know for sure.

Ahndree saw the sand blowing with the wind ein the outside of the tent. He observed the display with amusement and confussion.

He even wondered if he had been killed the night of the battle. But he coul feel his curse within himself, so he knew peace was far from being reached. unless…

He took a few steps closer to the exit of the tent. The sun unable to burnn him while he was under the rough thick material of the tent. It would be over so fast… just one more step, he thought; one more step and it will be over.

He lifted his boot and closed his eyes. Listening the wind blowing, the sand hitting his body and the wind whistling through the tent and then his eyes opened in realization. It could not be over yet. There were people who had a price to pay.

He saw the blowing and waving of the corners of the tent and then studied the rest of the structure.

Ahndree moved with caution due the sun outside but slowly he started to reach the different points where teh tent was held and released it. Making it blow; the wind trying to drag it away. But the firm grasp of Ahndree held tight to it as he used it as a protective mantle over him. He wrapped himself with it as he started to move, slowly, in the deserted land, looking for a way to exit.

Hours passed and the sun over the fabirc was piercing and painful despite it was not directly on his body, the temperature and the sun light even reflecting back from the sand, making his body to suffocate. He was feeling dizzy and losing strenght by the minute. If he could not find an exit soon… the strenght of the song would make him pass out and the tent would bow, leaving his body to burn and turn into ashes.

Ahndree’s legs started to tremble and he collapsed on his knees… the tent slowly slipping from his fingers. He grunted and tensed his jaw as he fought and then he saw it.

A glowing orb seemed to be in the distance, something odd and probably magical, something unlikely to be on regular desert. He took strenght and rose on his feet again as he approached without realizing the tent was ripping due the strong wind… the sun started ot sneak through spots of the protective fabric. Ahndree felt a painful burn in his shoulder that made him release the tent and getting uncovered by the sun, inches away from the orb.

His scream of pain was loud and seemed endless as he felt his body starting to burn, his hair vanishing and parts of him disappearing in flames. One weak motion of his hand towards the orb made the contact which made the the scream go away and also Ahndree’s figure.

Was he dead? did he manage to get out? The only certain thing was that Ahndree was gone from the desert and even if he had survived he was going to be in a very bad state. Where could that orb have moved the man?

((by Tyrus Olbers))

Ahndree’s troubled sleep after the battle was shook by an piercing burn in his arm as he rolled too close to the edge of the tent and the sun made contact with his arm. He ducked and landed on a crouch on the opposite side, awakening, finally, to just realize he was in some strange unfamiliar deserted place. Mixed thoughts and memories made him look at the sun bathed land before him with wonderment.

Raylon went to the papers and requested a certain thing to be printed, he handed them a business card and asked for a thousand copies, once paying for it he went into the streets and found a gang of willing delivery boys. Walking to them promising the payment substantial to hold all well for a month, should they distribute the following around town.

Raylon Loordes LLC

Specialising in:
Last Will and Testaments
Criminal Law, Disclaimers
Professional Representation
Special Requests

Fees are subject to availability,
time, and effort.