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]

"I'll go with you." She says resolutely, as soon as he has given her social clearance to do so, but even then she's a little hasty with it. "You speak as if your opponents are dangerous, it would be ill advised for you to go by yourself." She nods.

[bitterguardian]

"Potentially so," What is meant to be a mild smile comes out slightly more like a grimace. "But nothing I haven't encountered before. It would be ill-advised for you to accompany me, for that matter, but I leave it to your own discretion, doctor."

[ladyevangelinenix]

She shrugs, a girlish and defiant gesture.

"I will accompany you nevertheless." She replies. "I'll be fine, and your chances of being troubled will be less if there's someone to watch your back."

[bitterguardian]

"...A situation I am unaccustomed to. Thank you." How can he refuse something like that? She reminds him far too much of the lady he once knew.

All the more reason he should be protective, really, but it would be unfair to deny her the choice to put herself at risk as an equal. He nods and smiles, expression softening, and checks the nearest street sign to find his way to the address they've been given. "I... don't know how far it is. I'm afraid I'm still familiarizing myself with your city."

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Three more blocks this way." She says, gesturing. "See, all the more reason for me to come along." She points out, crooking a smile. It pleases her that he didn't protest too much, or make any insinuations that she would be weak or underfoot. She was starting to think very highly of this odd academic. It wasn't often they were so respectful.

[bitterguardian]

In a number of ways, the current century has moved backwards in its treatment of women. Horvath is from an earlier time, when these things mattered less. He also once knew a lady who Eva would probably have much to talk about with.

Still, without her aid he would have called a cab, and probably managed just fine. Three blocks isn't so far, though, particularly with his current slightly hurried stride. He has the common sense to give a mildly sheepish smile and a shrug. "I would have asked someone else for directions, but this is easier, thank you..."

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Ah, right. I suppose you might have." She admits, but looks no less pleased.

"I do hope that this proves a successful effort." She says, after they walk a ways. "And that your business will conclude quickly and peacefully."

[bitterguardian]

"Mmm." It's a non-committal sound, and he looks slightly lost in thought. "That's a hope I hold onto every time..." He is, at least half the time, disappointed, but everything has gone easily so far. The last stretch of road is uphill, cobblestones a little rougher. It's an older neighborhood, with grander houses. His pace doesn't slow, expression distracted and thoughtful.

[ladyevangelinenix]

She leaves him to his thoughts, looking around at the older architecture of the houses, and at the little carts selling flowers and nuts and the like that dot the street corners. She tries to keep her bicycle from rattling about too much on the especially uneven cobbles.

[bitterguardian]

It's such a pleasant city, and he can't help but appreciate that while he's trying to keep alert for Morganians. Unfortunately his conversational skills suffer somewhat for it. The house itself is well-to-do, but not immodestly grand. Still, anyone collecting such antiquities has to have money to spare. While he makes a show of checking the address, Horvath is also scanning the perimeter for any foes lying in wait, but all seems calm on a magical front as well as a physical one. There are no wards, no flares of power or other hints of his enemies about.

There is a small courtyard inside the gate, left open on a sunny day, and plenty of safe spots to prop Eva's bicycle. Horvath waits for her to join him on the porch, and after a brief pause the door is answered by a bored-looking footman. It's subtle, but Horvath is relieved. This man is no Morganian, and if there were trouble present, surely he would not look so ambivalent about the arrival of guests. Politely, Horvath introduces himself and Doctor Nix, inquiring after the master of the house. Eva may get a look of mild confusion from the footman over being introduced by her title, but they're shown into a sitting room, and asked to wait there. It's all so pleasant and easy, and Horvath forces himself to actually take a seat rather than pacing impatiently. "This... has all been astonishingly easy. Are you my good luck charm, Doctor?"

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Perhaps." She laughs a little and seats herself, availing herself of the relative freedsom of cycling attire to cross her legs more comfortably at the knee, removing that large hat and resting it on top of her bag in her lap. She occupies herself looking all about the room with those huge pale eyes, squinting a bit through the tint of her lenses.

[bitterguardian]

Horvath does not settle back in the chair, but sits ready to stand, hat on one knee. He's a little anxious, still, but now his thoughts have turned to possible assailants waiting at the hotel. It would be clever, for the Morganians to let him obtain the chalice, then get the jump on him and take it after he's done all the legwork. It would be more than one. Most Morganians know better than to try taking him on alone, and those that don't know better are the ones easily dealt with. He should expect a trap. Perhaps it would be wise to go to a different hotel entirely, wire the other one and have his things sent over...

Any ruminations are interrupted by the arrival of the master of the house, Lord Richard Phelps. He's an elderly man, though not completely infirm, but he walks leaning on a cane and his hair is mostly white. Mr. Phelps peers at them through thick glasses, wary of the unexpected guests. Mr. Horvath, and Doctor..." He pauses, even more bewildered. "I don't believe I know either of you."
Horvath rises smoothly, giving a mild bow in deference to the older man. At least older in appearance. "No, and my apologies for arriving unannounced." He gives a rueful little smile. "You see, I've spent some time tracing a medieval artifact, a chalice...? And when I heard it was-"
The old man's expression brightens, and he cuts off Horvath's apologetic explanation. "The new one? Oh, yes, it's a lovely thing! Would you like to see it?" He's as eager as a child showing off a new toy, beckoning both his guests up the hall.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva finds his enthusiasm delightful and gets up, though she gestures for Horvath to go ahead of her, since it's his artifact after all.

[bitterguardian]

The old man totters up the hall, still chatting away. "Are you writers? Researchers? I know that piece has some kind of history to it, the artistry of the engravings is like nothing else..." Enthusiasm is, indeed, a good word for it.

Horvath looks more skeptical than delighted, himself, but only while the man's back is turned. He's quick to follow though, with a grateful nod to Eva. "I... have some background in medieval lore, you see..." It's a deliberately vague answer, but plenty to satisfy their host.

Nodding in absent agreement, he leads them into a large ground-floor study, to which the sturdy wooden door stands open. The only windows are high, above bookshelves and curio cabinets that line the walls. He has a number of interesting artifacts on display, all behind glass in the cabinets, and the books represent a collection of wealth as well. It's certainly enough to draw the eyes of those who place value on information and history. "It's over here with some smaller pieces, thought they showed it off to best advantage..." He continues on toward a glass-fronted cabinet by the far wall.

Horvath follows, glancing around with interest, and Eva too is well into the room when the heavy paneled door closes behind them with a soft click. It seems to be a trigger of some kind, as Horvath whirls around at the sound as abruptly as if he's just been bitten. Two men stand there, revealed now that they've pushed shut the door they were standing hidden behind. They're dressed well enough, but one of them leers at them like a cat with a rat in its paws. The other draws both hands together with a strange circling gesture.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva makes a soft noise through her teeth, a noise like the hiss of a small cat that's just been stepped on, but beyond that there's no sign of panic. In fact, out of Horvath's peripheral vision he might be able to see that in a moment of realizing the treachory done, there is in her hand and unflinchingly leveled at their presumed attackers, a small and delicately inlaid-- but very real and skillfully wielded-- pearl handled revolver. There is a small click as she cocks it, a show of clear and unafraid intent.

"Your friends?" She asks Horvath dryly, just to be sure. It would be rude to shoot without clarification.

[bitterguardian]

"...I do wish you wouldn't put it that way..." Despite his moment of alarm, Horvath frowns calmly at the young men by the door. Their presence near it is less of an obstacle than the magical shield trap they've sprung by closing it. Without a fight on his hands, finding the anchor to destroy it would be simple, but they're not going to give him the chance.

It's also unlikely they'd take him on with just two younger sorcerers. In her peripheral vision, Eva may see his hand rising defensively, one of the rings on it glowing. He gives a half-turn though, back to eye their host.

The men by the door have hesitated, watching the aimed pistol, although the man who's made the gesture has a growing glow between his raised hands, now. He may be the sharper of the two, as he begins to edge sideways slowly, putting distance between himself and his partner. She can't cover both of them at once if they stand too far apart.

The old Lord Phelps, far from being alarmed, greets Horvath's glance with a smug smile of his own. "Oh yes, we're all old friends, here. Doctor Nix, was it? One of us seems to have found a new friend..."

[ladyevangelinenix]

She sighs and glances at Lord Phelps, and then tilting her head in the manner that usually indicated her mental gears were turning, trains the pistol on his heart. He's older, and probably the one in charge.

"And I liked you." She says, indignantly. She can worry about how weird the various glowing bits in the room are just as soon as she's made sure neither of them is going to die.

[bitterguardian]

Against all his better judgement, and every reservation built up over centuries, Horvath likes this woman. She's clever enough to immediately identify the biggest threat, bold enough to face it down, and witty enough to throw a one-liner in its face while she's at it.

A pistol is unlikely to be enough to take the man down, but it's definitely enough to give him pause. Lord Phelps frowns, and straightens, drawing a hand lightly across his face as if to pull away a cobweb he's walked into. While nothing tangible comes to hand, the old man's face blurs and shifts, revealing something younger and smoother. He's blonde and blue-eyed, slim and good-looking but well into his forties. His gaze lifts from the pistol she has aimed at him to her tall companion, and he sneers slightly. "You shouldn't have brought along collateral damage. Slipping up in your old age, Horvath?"

"She brought me." Horvath answers mildly, keeping turned sideways to keep both the now-undisguised man and the henchman at least partially in view. Several of his rings are glowing, now, and the two men by the door are starting to look wary, less confident about how things are going already. The one with the glowing hands continues to move, circling like a predator, the ball of light in his hands growing and spitting and crackling softly, like a live thing.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Yes, I got into this scrape all by myself, thank you." Eva says, not one to be anyone's collateral damage or damsel in distress. "And if you don't call off your dogs and hand over the artifact, I will put a bullet in your heart without any particular ill feeling." It's not that she's accustomed to killing, or likes it, but rather that she has a very grim understanding that one must defend oneself without particular regard for niceties. She has no doubt that these men would kill Horvath and probably herself without batting an eyelid so she must show no mercy in return.

[bitterguardian]

The blonde man rolls his eyes, and gives another mild wave of his hand. It's worth noting that he, too, has several rings, and one glows every time he gestures, the garnet set in the ring giving off an angry reddish light. All of these men seem to have at least one ring, which may be some source of power, and this time he puts it to good use. The gun in Eva's hand falls abruptly to pieces, as if every part has suddenly come unscrewed from every other part, leaving pieces and bullets thudding uselessly on the thick oriental carpet.

The two younger men seem to take this as some kind of cue, because the one releases the crackling ball of energy to fly straight at Horvath.

Unfazed, Horvath raises an eyebrow in the face of the oncoming missile, which bounces harmlessly off some invisible wall a few feet before it ever reaches him. He moves quickly after that, though, flinging his own hand out. Nothing visible leaves it, but his attacked is sent slamming into the wall behind him with violent force, books thrown out of the shelf when his body hits it. That's not fatal, but he should be stunned for a moment or two, at least.

The other young man, who has lost his smug grin, dodges and gestures as he moves, summoning fire that flares up around Horvath and Eva, in patches on the carpet and rising fast. Horvath is forced to jump back slightly, closer to Eva, to avoid standing in the flames.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva says a string of words that are exceptionally unbecoming of a lady of her station and breeding as her weapon goes to bits.

She realizes she's severely out-gunned here, metaphorically speaking. She can't begin to understand the what or how of the energies being manipulated, never mind take advantage of them for herself. She is forced to step closer to Horvath, though she makes sure to keep well out of his way to avoid being injured should he need to move quickly. She doesn't despair, however, looking around the room for any weapon that might readily come to hand. It's a Medievalist collection-- there's usually a sword or a mace or a dagger hanging about somewhere, right. And she keeps her eye on their primary aggressor, the ringleader, and keeps her body between him and Horvath to guard his back.

[bitterguardian]

Even Horvath, who is in his own element here, is feeling slightly outnumbered. The ringleader and the remaining henchman are on opposite sides to him, so he's glad of an extra pair of eyes. Still, he feels obligated to protect her, even if she seems very capable of protecting herself under ordinary circumstances. "...Sorry about all this." He murmurs over his shoulder at her, a sigh in his voice.

The ringleader is already on the move, now that he thinks he's neutralized Eva's threat of the gun. "It's been fun, truly," He waves his hand, making the flames climb higher and ensuring a solid ring around the pair of them. "But we have an assassination to be getting on with."

Horvath reaches back to grasp Eva's hand, and murmurs "Move quickly." The instructions make little sense until a moment later he opens a sudden gap in the flames- in front of himself, of course, but as he lunges for the open space he's sure to tug her along with him. It's a temporary vaccuum, so the gap in the flames is all too likely to close fast behind them. They're in the clear though, on the side of the startled henchman, and the height of the flames prevent the ringleader from seeing their escape immediately.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva doesn't have a whole lot to work with, but she'll make do. Taking advantage of their startled adversaries, she takes a swing at the nearest one, tiny hand clenched into a fist.

[bitterguardian]

She does not have much, but now that they're clear of the flames she should be able to reach the glass cases in search of some medieval weaponry, provided their attackers let her reach them. The man Horvath flung against the wall is just beginning to gain his feet, looking dazed, but the other henchman is close enough to rush them both. He's not expecting to be hit by a lady, and her swing may or may not have much force, but it does take him by surprise.

Horvath takes one glance at this exchange, decides she can handle herself at least for the moment, and makes a dashing lunge around the ring of flames to go after the leader. He'll keep an ear open if she sounds like she's in trouble, but it's important the ringleader doesn't escape.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Her opponent stumbles, caught on the ear and looks at her with something like incredulity before he lunges. Thankfully, her lack of long skirts makes it easy to lurch backwards a few steps, enough to turn and run for the nearest cabinet. Hoping there's something useful in it.

She doesn't quite make it that far.

She knows how fast a man can move, so she knows what strikes her in the middle of the back isn't a blow from a fist or even a shoulder. Her second clue is the crackling, sizzling ripple of energy that races over her skin and along her veins. It's a kind of pain she's never experienced and it knocks her off her feet and throws her. There's a sickening crunch of glass and bone as she hits the case she had been running for with incredible force.

She crumples to the floor, a tangle of heavy fabric, rag-doll limp on the burning carpet.