Late 19th Century England; a Quest & an Ally

[bitterguardian]

(Continued from here.)
Some artifacts are lost to the mists of time for good reason, and this holds even more true for items surrounded by myth and legend. Those relics built up by false legends, which only fall apart under the scrutiny of modern reason, spread disillusionment in the world. Those surrounded by real magic, on the other hand, are even more dangerous uncovered, with the inherent risk of falling into the wrong hands.

The eldest of Merlin's apprentices has been around more than long enough to know the difference, and it is the latter kind he seeks. He did not set out, long ago, to become protector to an ever-growing vault's worth of dangerous magical items, but his master entrusted him with two objects that must be closely guarded, so what difference does it make to watch over a few more? Maxim Horvath was raised to use his magic to protect humanity, from themselves, if need be. The artifact he is chasing down now he would destroy if he finds a means to do so safely. Some items have their redeeming qualities, and thus are stored and guarded, but this object can be used only for ill. It is a cup, more properly a chalice, enchanted to accept a ritual that marks a specific human target and will deliver a poisoned drink to them alone. That anyone else may drink safely, and examine the chalice without finding any trace of toxins, makes it the ideal weapon for an untraceable assassination. The design is archaic, now, but to illusion the chalice into appearing as a more modern drinking vessel would be the least of tasks for any sorcerer of merit. The chalice only came to his attention involved in rumors of a Morganian assassination plot, and while he'd prefer to keep out of world politics, Horvath feels a duty to keep the Morganian influence out of them, as well.

There are three separate reports of the last sighting of the chalice, and each one more or less rules out the other two as being plausible. With the Morganians spotted poking around two of these possibilities, and the third option out of reach, Horvath is forced to pursue all avenues. He is not without allies, but they are fewer than once they were, and he has left a handful to guard the crypt that may contain the chalice. Alone he's come to race against his enemies down the other path of possibilities, and found an unexpected assistant in Dr. Evangeline Nix. Her curiosity strikes him as both dangerous and useful, but as long as she is of aid he can hardly turn down the offer. Thus far she has gained him access to a library with some very helpful resources, and offered to use her own contacts to research the auction houses the chalice may have recently passed through, unrecognized. Horvath can only hope the Morganians have not been so lucky. A day or so later, he's agreed to meet up with Dr. Nix in a teahouse to discuss what she may have turned up. He's chosen an out-of-the-way table, and wrapped it in a subtle sound-shielding spell to prevent any potential spies overhearing, but it still makes him nervous to meet with her in public. By being seen with him, she may be put at risk, and he knows it.

Comments

[ladyevangelinenix]

She arrives, looking flustered and out of her element outside of her library. She's also wearing a somewhat expansive hat with a bit of filmy black veiling which she seems relieved to remove upon sitting down, though she does not remove her gloves, black-lace fingers in stark contrast to the white table cloth. She's wearing different glasses: red tinted lenses, smoked to darken them a little. Her mode of transport is obvious in her flushed cheeks and mode of dress: never one to follow social norms, she was wearing the garments of a female bicyclist. Several more respectable ladies at surrounding tables looked momentarily against. There was some muttering about the late Lord Nix that died down quickly and Eva had long since learned not to hear. Once settled, she smiles at him.

"Well, here we are again." She says, reaching into a battered leather bag for a sheaf of papers and her notebook. "I have some notes for you, detailing the lots sold off the estate. Really, some magnificent pieces. The fellow had an absolute madness for Medievalist art."

[bitterguardian]

While he does not miss the stares and mutters of the other patrons, he's quick to dismiss it as mildly amusing. She reminds him, just a little but painfully so, of Veronica. Headstrong women who refuse to bow to societal norms will always have his respect. The glasses intrigue him a little, though, and the hat, and make him wonder briefly about things which are not really his business at all. He's been around far too long, and seen far too many things, and it is just a little unusual...

The notes she pulls out are quick to distract him, however. Out come the reading glasses and the little notebook, and he leans over to look. "Mmm... any particular theme beyond that?" Because if the old codger collected multiple dangerous magical artifacts, that really does seem worth knowing about.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Hmmmm, beyond what I can only assume is a Gothic or Pre-Raphaelite fixation with faux-Medival mysticsm-- fairys, sorcerers, the like-- I can't say. They said it was all rather a jumble and it took quite a bit of time to sort it all out. They were surprised by the number of apparently genuine time-period artifacts." She says, leafing through the notes.

"There are a lot of cups." She remarks. "Of both the tableware and ceremonial variety. A number of them could have been chalices in the style you're looking for."

[bitterguardian]

Well that sounds all kinds of potentially dangerous. He'll be looking over her notes carefully, in case there's any other items that could be used the wrong way to cause disaster. Not that he's looking to make more work for himself.

"Hmmm. He could afford to be eccentric, I suppose..." One eyebrow rises, but his words have little to do with what he actually thinks about the matter. The man who collected all these was not, as far as Horvath is aware, a sorcerer, but it's possible he knew of sorcery and had some idea what he was dealing with. If that were the case, it's slightly shameful he didn't make better arrangements for his collection after his death.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva thinks he was mostly just a particularly bookish oddball obsessed with Arthurian legend. Not that she's in a position to judge.

"Some of this collection is really remarkable." She says, leafing through the notes. She's marked in pencil with a little "x" next to a small number of chalices fitting the age and approximate description of the item Horvath is after. There are five in total, which seems an impressive number outside of a museum. Which probably explains why three of them were purchased by various museum entities.

[bitterguardian]

"Are there photographs, by any chance?" Unless it's been disguised already, he'd probably know the chalice on sight, although to be fair it has been a long time since he saw it. Several hundred years, at least. He leans forward to get a better look, noting her marks.

He's content to let her think he's just a well-off eccentric, if she likes. Certainly he can dress and act the part.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Hmmm! Yes! There was a gallery catalog in here, someplace." She bends to root around in her bag for a moment or two before coming up with another pamphlet. "A few photographs of the larger, more costly pieces, but mostly sketches of the items, printed." She offers him the document.

[bitterguardian]

"I have seen... a picture of it, before..." He didn't mean to hesitate, but it would hardly do to admit he's seen the cup itself. Hopefully she'll dismiss the pause as mild distraction, since he's taking the catalog to look over at the time. He adjusts his reading glasses and flips through it slowly, reaching back into dim and distant memory. The photographs, though lovely, don't ring a bell. It's one of the sketches, of a chalice that's far less ostentatious than some of the offerings, that he pauses on.

Oh yes. That's the one. He was still a young man at Merlin's side, when he saw it. His master advised the court of the cup's properties, that it was the likely cause of the king's sudden death, but they dismissed his words. When Merlin shrugged and drew his apprentice away, he'd been enraged that they would dismiss his master's advice so easily. Now, he wonders that Merlin made no effort to remove the chalice, destroy it or put it under protection somewhere. Perhaps he was focused on far worse evils in the world, then, or perhaps he thought because they dismissed its magic it was in little danger of being used again. Whatever Merlin's thoughts on the matter, they died with him.

"...It's here." His voice comes out as a whisper.

[ladyevangelinenix]

His whisper is clear as day to her ears and she leans forward to look at the drawing he's fixated on. "Alright. That one is....article 495." She says, quickly leafing through her notes until she finds the right one. "There we are. I'm not sure whether it's good or bad, but it's been sold to a private collector. I mean, on the one hand, you won't have to go breaking into the British Museum, I suppose." She shows him the name of the purchaser. "It might take another day or two, maximum, for me to find out who this is and where they could be found."

[bitterguardian]

He frowns mildly, but gives a nod. A day or two seems like all too long, particularly without much to do in the meantime but try to prevent the Morganian sorcerers from finding out the same information and pursuing it.

"Thank you. It's a matter of urgency, of course, but... if the recent buyer is willing to sell, money is no object." He means that, but he'll resort to other means if money isn't enough. More gentle means than the Morganians themselves are likely to use.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"We can go straightaway to the auctioneers and see what we can do about the address." She says, picking up on his urgency. "Or I can go straightaway, since they know me, and meet you at the library just as soon as I can." She offers. It seems improper to go back to his hotel-- she doesn't have a lot of regard for social convention but she isn't blind to it, either. People talk and there are plenty who would have her put away to achieve their own ends.

[bitterguardian]

Still gazing at the picture, he strokes his beard and gives a thoughtful nod. "If you don't think the auctioneers would object to my presence, I'd be glad to come along with you." He has better manners than to invite her back to his hotel, equally willing to nod to public notions of propriety, but he'd rather take as active a role in this search as he's able to.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Come with me to the auction house, at least. I will decide then if you ought to come inside with me, or if it will make my contact ask more questions." She says, nodding. It might also help him feel more at ease to come with, and less like she's disappearing into the ether and returning with answers.

[bitterguardian]

"Thank you. I don't want to put anything at risk, but..." He gives a little gesture and a smile, because he can see she understands his impatience well enough already. He's being friendly and polite, but he's slightly anxious about all this. The catalog is passed back to her, since he doesn't have a bag to carry it in.

[ladyevangelinenix]

It disappears back into her battered leather satchel, which goes over her shoulder.

"I understand." She assures him. "I will do everything in my power to get this item in your hands as quickly as can be managed."

[bitterguardian]

"I appreciate your aid." His smile is grateful. "You've been an unexpected boon, in all this. I'm sorry if I'm being secretive, but without your patience and help I'd be floundering still."

He moves to stand just before she does, and offer a hand, ever the gentleman.

[ladyevangelinenix]

She politely declines and rises to follow him. She generally declines to touch people beyond her short, firm handshakes, self-conscious of her scarred hands and arms.

She follows him outside, putting her hat on as she goes to shade her face, blinking for a moment while her eyes struggled to adjust to the light.

A charming little bicycle, all brass and copper, was chained up outside and she went to get it, walking beside it as they went.

[bitterguardian]

Horvath has no such reservations, despite his own sleeves covering a collection of scars earned over long centuries of sorcery battles, but he lets it pass with a brief raised eyebrow and settles for getting the door for her on the way out.

Outside he doffs his own hat, allows her to get herself in order, and strolls along the other side of the bicycle politely. "I'm afraid I'm still learning my way around, but it's a lovely area..."

[ladyevangelinenix]

"It's a very lively place." She says, somewhat impassively. The noise and smell and light in the street bombards her. "It is something of a walk, is that alright?" She asks him.

[bitterguardian]

"That's fine." He nods mildly, content, although he has noted her discomfort. "Although I can certainly afford a taxi if you'd prefer...?" Her bike would fit on the luggage railing of a taxi carriage easily enough, but he's content to walk, too.

Of course, if any of his enemies have spotted them, a long walk could put them in a vulnerable spot.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Oh, no. It's quite alright. The bicycle would be a great deal of trouble." She says. She attempts to blink and flinch less, a bit embarassed. She hasn't really thought about the danger, truth be told.

[bitterguardian]

After tea with no apparent spies, Horvath isn't really thinking too deeply about danger, either. It's a pleasant enough day for a stroll, they're not alone on the street, and if worst came to worst her bicycle just might give the lady a quick getaway.

He doesn't know what sort of neighborhood they're going to, of course, but he only keeps the mildest watch for followers, for now.

"The library is wonderful, by the way. If I have the chance to stay a while, I'd love to just wander the stacks... if that's allowed?" He seems content to go for a bit of a walk with a lady and her bicycle by his side.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Perfectly allowed!" She assures him with another one of those small, close-lipped smiles. "Come whenever you like, I am there most all of the time as I've mentioned, even nights."

This is a respectable auctioneer they're going to, so it's a nice neighborhood. Good for safety, not so much for the attention Eva attracts in her cycling garb. It's nice that Horvath is comfortable being seen in the company of an obviously avid velocipedestrienne, a woman very nearly in trousers, for goodness sake. Not to mention her odd glasses and big hat. If Horvath were to seek out any information on his companion, the words "eccentric" and even "mad" might come up more than once, despite Eva's gentle demeanor and soft-spokenness. Indeed, her voice has a strange hush on it that might be hard to hear in the streets.

[bitterguardian]

It's true if Horvath was intending to avoid a reputation in this town for being an eccentric, he's made a very bad start of it. Although his manner of dress is very respectable, tailored to fit a tall, lanky frame and slightly stocky torso, some of it is just slightly old-fashioned to the expert eye. Then there's the rings on nearly every finger, heavy, of varying degrees of gold and silver and almost every one set with some sort of gemstone. That's a little odd, to say the least. He's a very tall man, with a build to match, so he stands out in a crowd no matter how he's dressed, and that alone has probably made a few locals take notice.

Hanging around with her just solidifies whatever reputation he might bring on himself. He has no family here, no friends, no obvious business beyond hanging around the library of the Academy, and that's not the most ordinary place to begin with. "Oh? Surely you must go home to sleep, once in a while." He looks amused. "But I'll remember that. I didn't want to drop in at odd hours and be turned away..." His voice is deep and rolling, almost melodious, but he's pitched it not to carry far. Still, if he's crossed any societal boundaries with his words, he seems oblivious to it.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Especially this particular branch of the Academy, which is considered by the other members to be generally a pretty mad and fruitless area of research. But Eva hardly cares for the tedious expectations of academia.

"Only sometimes." She says and perhaps she's teasing and perhaps she isn't. "And if I happen to be out during the day, I do employ a secretary. His name is Jamie and he's a nervous little slip of a thing, a Scot. But he'll make sure I get anything you leave for it me and it won't wander into the wrong hands."