Late 19th Century England; a Quest & an Ally Continued

[bitterguardian]

A few hours of rest, room service tea and sandwiches; These are all Horvath allows himself before resuming the trail of the last of a group of Morganians set on an assassination plot. He's come this far only with help, and the recent battle with the sorcerer Gautier and his two apprentices could have gone far worse. As it stands, there will likely be questions raised. The sorcerer's bodies lie charred in the home of one Lord Phelps, last to purchase a poison chalice the Morganians seek to use. Lord Phelps himself, Horvath suspects, will also be discovered dead in the manor, since Gautier was impersonating the old man to lure Horvath into a trap. In the wake of their deaths, Horvath found only a decoy chalice, a simple cup cloaked in illusion.

Gautier's compatriot, a younger man named Don Chevelle, was not in the fray, yet Horvath's information gathering had the man sighted in town. The sorcerer Chevelle is, for the moment, the only lead he has left.

Revisiting Lord Phelps' manor in town is risky, and Horvath takes pains not to be seen. It's a wise move, since he sees a number of carriages and a car out front of the house. The bodies have clearly been found, and the authorities are on scene. Out of sight, he stalks the house, pulling at fading traces of power. The chalice was here. Chevelle was here. The thread he has to follow is thin, but it's there, illuminated in his mind weaving out the back of the house and up a broad alley, stretching toward the edge of town.

He's taken on a single Morganian alone before, but the fight earlier today has left him at a disadvantage. The power is there, rebuilding after a short rest, but he's tired still. Unfortunately, time is of the essence. Fortunately, he has an ally in Dr. Evangeline Nix. It's dark, when he returns to the library and knocks politely on the door to her lab, but he's rested and cleaned up a bit, and he's too restless to let it wait any longer.

Comments

Whoo, I found the corner of my grandparents' living room that gets wifi and cell service

[ladyevangelinenix]

She's not surprised to see him so soon. She just hopes he's sufficiently rested. She's changed out of her ruined cycling clothes and eaten some rare-cooked beef and was looking more our less like her old self. This time, she had given up entirely and was wearing men's clothing. She imagines the person they were after now to be more dangerous, and possibly some housebreaking might be involved. Trousers would be much more suitable and at this point Horvath had seen her kill two men, he would probably not be scandalized by her attire.

"Welcome back." She says, ushering him into the lab. "Any luck?"

Yikes, and then I didn't see this reply until now...

[bitterguardian]

Horvath has, in truth, looked better, but he's also looked worse. A short nap, some food, and a wash up has left him looking healthy enough but just a little grim and tired. He takes in the men's attire without so much as a raised eyebrow, and perhaps a subtle hint of approval to his expression.

"Some, but I suspect we need to move quickly. I think he may be headed out of the city..."

Whoops you accidentally got Basil Hallward that time.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Then there is no time to waste." She says, grabbing a long coat off her desk. "You can tell me on the way." There's a faint rattle as she picks up the coat, and she shakes out a leather under-arm holster to shrug into. The gun in it isn't hers, but it'll do. She'd been painfully fond of the pearl-handled revolver and mourned it like a lost friend, but there wasn't time to dwell on that just now.

She locks all the doors behind her on the way out.

In the gathering dark, she seems more alert and sure of herself.

"Right, which way do we begin?"

;D

[bitterguardian]

While he's a little tired still, Horvath can move quickly, long legs eating up the ground until they're outside, but once there he pauses and closes his eyes briefly, as if listening to some music only he can hear. "I don't suppose you have a carriage or a couple of horses handy?" By foot does not feel fast enough, and they're not likely to both fit on her bike.

[ladyevangelinenix]

She looks thoughtful.

"I do not. But I know where to contract either a very fast gig or a pair of horses with little questions asked. Two blocks this way. A small diversion but the time will be made up for."

The stables she brings him too are a bit seedy but the teams themselves seem in fine condition.

"Viktor-!" Eva calls out, and a diminutive German with a glass eye appears from a stall he'd been mucking. "I need two fast horses. Usual fee." A couple of banknotes are produced. Viktor looks Horvath up and down, assessing he'll need a bigger horse than Eva will and this apparently costs a bit more. Eva rolls her eyes but produces the money.

"He usually hires gigs to body snatchers." Eva explains, as they take their mounts out into the street. "His horses are fast and not afraid of anything."

[bitterguardian]

At six-foot-three with a barrel-chested build, Horvath often needs a bigger everything, and it's something of a nuisance he's grown accustomed to. He mounts the horse like an expert, though, stroking its neck in a friendly way until she's ready to ride. "Mm. Good to know, but I'd still rather not endanger them, if something serious comes up. Ready?"

He doesn't wait for an answer but nudges the horse into action, headed up a few streets at an angle and moving at a fast trot. The course they take brings them to a wider street, and there he pauses, eyes closing briefly. The azure gem in the ring he seems to use most glows faintly, then a golden line appears floating in the air, thin as a thread. It is barely visible, and possibly only visible to Eva due to her nature as something beyond human. In one direction, the thread stretches back through the street in the general direction of Lord Phelps' manor, but in the other direction it seems to be headed toward the edge of town. Horvath spurs his horse again, following the thread, and this time at a canter.

[ladyevangelinenix]

To her eyes, any amount of light is clearly visible, so as long as it's slightly luminescent she'll be able to see it with absolute clarity. Horvath, however, is a large enough marker and she follows that, letting him set the urgency of the pace.

[bitterguardian]

Horvath could find this thread even without seeing it, but it requires more focus that way, and from horseback a visual cue makes things easier. He rides like a man born to the saddle, and the horse, used to all manner of riders, seems to respond well to this. They turn corners without slowing, quickening to a gallop as they reach the edge of town.

He is afraid, as the streets widen out and the buildings thin, that the man has already taken a carriage hours ago and is halfway to London, by now. Then the thread moves, shifting a little and twisting, and with a snap of his fingers he blanks it out and brings the horse to a walk. Horvath says nothing to Eva, but the glance he gives her over his shoulder says it clear enough. They're getting close.

[ladyevangelinenix]

She hears the snap of this fingers and the glowing trace vanishes. She brings her mount up beside him, the smaller horse coming to a sharp stop. She understands his glance and nods. She'll follow his lead on the matter.

[bitterguardian]

Here at the edge of town, buildings are farther apart and cover sparse, which puts them both in painfully plain view. One man alone would be unwise to make an ambush of two, but it's not outside the realm of possibility, especially when the lone man is armed with magic. Horvath worries about the lack of cover, especially when he's not sure exactly how close they may be, but he moves the horse at a walk to the nearest hitching post and dismounts, his own body language tense and alert.

The long low building nearby is both train station and a stop for the carriage drivers that make their living driving hacks on longer trips between cities. There's no train in evidence, at the moment, and this late in the evening there's no carriages departing or arriving. The only signs of activity are from the stables at the far end of the building, where there's light and a couple of drivers talking and having a smoke with an utterly casual air. There may be people inside the building proper, but it's quiet, from outside.

Horvath frowns, on edge, and once the horses are tied he pauses to focus again. "I'm not sure if he knows yet that he's been traced..." His voice is low, pitched not to carry far.

[ladyevangelinenix]

She nods, his voice plain and clear as if he had spoken in her ear. She's half listening to the men down the path but they don't seem like to cause them any trouble.

"Do you have some idea where he might be, so you don't have to use the trace, at the risk of his being able to detect it?" She asks, tying up her own horse, who immediately settles in as if anticipates being there a while, nosing at what scrubby clover other horses have left at the base of the post.

[bitterguardian]

The answer is not immediate, as he has to consider his options carefully. Not only is such sneaky magic outside his usual expertise, but he also has to conserve his energy, holding back in readiness for whatever battle may yet lie ahead. "If I could spare the time to enchant a compass..." It's a quiet murmur, more thinking out loud than an answer. Behind him both horses graze as if nothing at all were amiss.

At least without a train at the station, and all carriages still, the man isn't likely to escape right at this moment. "I... may be able to trace him by his magic along, but he'll be equally able to track me, and he may know by now that I'm on his trail." He glances at her for her opinion on the matter, even though this is, technically, his show.

I'm sorry, I think I accidentally "archived" this notif in gmail and lost it ><

[ladyevangelinenix]

"If he may already know, and it will not burn up too any of your resources, take the risk to track him." She suggests. "He doesn't have a lot of escape routes, here."

I wondered! But stuff happens!

[bitterguardian]

Horvath watches the men at the stable door a moment, to make sure they have no interest in the two new arrivals, but they've hitched their horses far enough away that the stable hands are in no hurry to come ask if they need anything. Glad to be relatively unobserved, Horvath focuses and brings back the thin thread of light as before, but this time it seems to be leading straight into the wall of the building. That could mean the man is inside, or it could also mean he's somewhere beyond it, and after a quiet muttering to himself the thread of light shifts, rippling to wrap around the corner of the building and give them a clearer path to take. Tracking spells aren't really designed to be used so close to the target, so it's required some adjustment.

Moving lightly on the balls of his feet, surprisingly stealthy for such a big man, Horvath edges along the building and stalks around the corner, ready to defend them both at a moment's notice. The thread leads them to the far side of the building, around the corner to the long loading platform beside the train tracks, where Horvath pauses near a stack of boxes and bags waiting to be loaded as cargo on the next train. The flare of light at the far end of the platform gives them some warning of their target casting a spell, and Horvath throws up both an arm and a magic shield to deflect the inevitable plasma bolt.

Unfortunately, the plasma bolt is not aimed at Horvath and Evangeline, but at the posts supporting the roof over the loading platform. With crackling blue light, three quick successive blasts shred through half the posts, and the wooden roof over their heads creaks and begins to collapse abruptly.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Run!" She shoves at him. If he doesn't survive, there will be no one to pull her out of the wreckage. No one who understands her unique condition at any rate. That would be alarming for the poor denizens of this railway town. She runs toward the spell-caster, under the assumption he won't collapse the building on top of himself. The borrowed pistol is out but not aimed at him just yet, recalling how quick his associates had ruined he favorite little revolver.

[bitterguardian]

He's a very solid man to be shoving at, tall and mostly muscle, but of course she's a lot stronger than she looks. The shield he's thrown up protects them from little more than splinters and the mild shockwave, since that's all that comes from that direction, and he never anticipated anything from above. Horvath will be cursing himself for that lack of foresight for days to come. For now though, he stumbles to the side, catches himself as he realizes she's not following, then lunges and rolls as he hits the ground beside the platform. He has to get out of range of the debris as the roof falls, before he can rejoin the fight.

Evangeline very narrowly misses a few falling crossbeams, but her tactic is a smart one. Up ahead at the end where the support posts still stand, a short, middle-aged man tries to duck out of view behind a crate, then lunges for the nearest door to get inside the station. He's not that close to it, unfortunately, and actually has to cover a few yards towards her along the wall of the building to reach it. With half the porch roof down, what's left is creaking and shuddering in warning, and seems likely to follow.

On the ground, Horvath races alongside the platform towards them, but hesitates to jump back up while the roof is still unstable. He's lagging behind Evangeline, having lost a fair amount of distance while he got out of the way.

[ladyevangelinenix]

She aims for the sorcerer's lower leg and fires. Even if she misses, she'll hit a kneecap, probably. And medically speaking, if she hits his thigh, there are ways of staunching the bleeding long enough to obtain what they came for. She's aware that Horvath is far behind her, and that worries her. She won't put finding the grail above his own life, no matter what ill may come of not recovering the chalice tonight.

[bitterguardian]

The sorcerer sees her coming, but somehow a gun was not what he expected. It's a last resort for them, a modern, dirty trick, because iron is the hardest thing for magic to shield against. He's readying a spell, aiming at her as he runs, but he goes down with a cry and the power fizzles from his hands.

There are cries from the handful of people inside and around the station, panic and alarm, but the crashing has at least sent them away from the immediate danger rather than toward it. Between the scarcity of windows and the half-collapsed roof, the sorcerers and Evangeline have at least a few more minutes to fight unobserved.

Horvath puts on an extra burst of speed at the sound of the gunshot, long legs eating up the ground, until he's close enough to vault up onto the platform again without risking debris from above once he's up there. He barrels for the downed man, hoping to grapple with him and keep him down before he can throw another plasma bolt.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Bless the arrogance of the magic-using class that they do not prepare to face more mundane methods of combat, or assume that their fellow sorcerers would have mundane friends armed with strong iron. If they've forgotten or ignored the power of any metals, then Evangeline feels assured that he's also not carrying any silver, which while not fatal, would make things extraordinarily painful for a while. Nor is she keen to be hit with another plasma bolt.

She sees Horvath come barreling up onto the platform and shifts her path of attack to allow him to pass her while she merely covers the other sorcerer with the gun, should he try anything particularly stupid. She aims for his shoulder. Again, not likely to be fatal but likely to render him in a distracting amount of pain.

[bitterguardian]

It was all too common a failing, but one Horvath himself did not share, be it out of wisdom or sheer length of experience. He'd been very good with a sword, even, before they became too unusual to carry in public. He kept one still, just in case. A sorcerer who was not thoroughly prepared for danger, be it magic or otherwise, was not likely to live as long as he had, immortality spell or not.

The sorcerer on the ground rallies with a snarl, gathering power again, until Horvath half-slides onto one knee to grab at his shoulders and give him a little shake. It would have been harmless enough, were it not for the man's bleeding leg, jarred even by that small movement. The man gives a gasp, struggling weakly.

"Stop. You're only going to make it worse." Horvath scowls, shifting his grip to get both the man's wrists in one of his own hands. "Where's the chalice?" His gaze darts to the door the man was fleeing for, then to Evangeline. He's not sure how much time they have out here in the open before people come to find out what's happened.

[ladyevangelinenix]

The man struggles a bit but Eva points the muzzle of her revolver at his other knee. "You've got maybe five minutes. My colleague may not be that patient."

She's not sure Horvath could have the magical resources to take them anywhere else, and if the chalice is somewhere in the ruin of the station, they will need to move fast to recover it.

[bitterguardian]

Horvath nods, and gives the man a grim smile. "It's been a long day," the deep voice rolls smoothly, conversationally pleasant in a way that's more menacing than if he actually acted angry. "I'm afraid I'm no longer in much of a mood for talk..."

The smaller man actually quails a little, in the face of their threats. "Master Horvath, I got information! Not just the chalice! You can take that, but there's bigger plans..." He's plea-bargaining, now, unsure just how badly this is likely to go. Morganians have no qualms against torture, and while Horvath's hands are clean of that, he's still got a reputation for taking out his enemies permanently if he thinks they're going to cause more trouble.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Chalice first." Eva reminds him, mind on the artifact. She can grab that while Horvath is extracting whatever information the little weasel has in him.

[bitterguardian]

"We're not bargaining, Chevelle." Horvath's expression sobers, his grip on the man's wrists tight and the ring on his other hand glowing faintly in earning. He has the power ready for nearly anything, but he'd prefer not to use it.

The 'weasel' squirms, gaze darting back and forth between them, and he licks his lips. "It's inside, in my carpetbag... there's a tag with my name."

Horvath's eyes narrow thoughtfully, because he can see it's possible the man is just trying to separate them. "There wouldn't be any traps on the bag, by any chance?" His hand clenches.

Chevelle blanches, breathing fast, but the hesitation before the answer is telling. "I... w-why wouldn't I-? Just to keep strangers from opening it!!!"

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva's silvery eyes flick about until they spot an unassuming carpet bag with a name-tag on it. She reaches for it but stops at the other man's tone.

"I have killed two of your associates in the last twenty-four hours. I didn't want to but I did. If there's some kind of hex on this thing, I will put a bullet in you."

[bitterguardian]

The nervous way he's measuring the distance between them with wide eyes is hardly a good sign. "It's not a hex!!"

Horvath sighs, feeling irritable and tired. "Bring it here? I should be able to dispel any basic security magics easily enough... or I'll make him do it." A little jerk of the wrists makes the smaller man whimper.

"Well I didn't want anyone to steal it!" He adds quietly, apparently oblivious to the irony of that protest.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva brings the bag over and holds it very, very close to their captive, watching him with irritation. She didn't deal with much of the criminal element beyond the odd charlatan psychic and she was quite tired of them by this point.

"Quickly now." She says, nudging his bad leg with her toe. "The roof won't hold for much longer."

[bitterguardian]

For just a moment, Horvath considers growling at the man he has pinned to undo whatever wards he's placed on the bag, but he's quick to decide he doesn't trust him that far. One big hand clamped firmly around the man's wrists, he stretches out the other and lightly touches the bag, rings glowing and eyes drifting half shut. He's fortunate Chevelle seems too intimidated to take advantage of the momentary distraction, but Eva's gun probably has a lot to do with that.

"Open it." Horvath nods with a sigh, then carefully eases off his captive and hauls him- just a little roughly, up onto his feet. He's aware the other man will have to lean on him for support, and he hasn't yet decided what to do with him, but they're not going anywhere until he actually sees the chalice in Eva's hands.

The carpetbag is full of an assortment of fairly mundane things, but wrapped up in a shirt is the chalice, an ornate metal antique, with a hunting scene wrought in silver all around the bowl of the cup.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva goes for the chalice with her free hand and holds it up for Horvath's inspection. Last time the chalice had been a sham, she's not taking chances this time. "Genuine article, Mr. Horvath?" She asks.

Somewhere behind them, the roof shudders ominously.

[bitterguardian]

Horvath's eyes narrow slightly, as he studies the cup, but the look of relief on his face gives her an answer even before he speaks aloud. "That's it. Hold ont-" His glance darts to the roof at the creaky warning. "I'm going to teleport us."

That's for her benefit, since Chevelle gets no say in the matter. Horvath's power is limited, but it seems they're at the end of accomplishing this mission, and they need to get out of here fast. Horvath's ring glows blue, as he makes a gesture in the air, aiming to take them all to his hotel room for the sake of privacy and expediency. He'll have to return to the station for the horses, once Chevelle is dealt with.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Ouf..." She says, once everything stops spinning and lurching. "I can't say I'm very fond of that particular mode of transportation." She admits. However, she is quick to train her focus and her gun back on Chevelle.

[bitterguardian]

"Sorry, it probably does take some getting used to..." His rueful smile is brief, but genuine.

"All right, you, sit on the- oh dear. You're still bleeding... Mmn." Horvath frowns, eyeing the captive sorcerer's leg wound. While he considers where to have him sit that will make the least trouble for housekeeping, he works at pulling the rings off the other man's fingers. He's big enough to simply strongarm his captive around, half-supporting the man so he doesn't just collapse where he is.

Chevelle whimpers, eyes widening as his rings are removed. "Are... you going to kill me?" His gaze darts from Horvath to Eva, or at least her unwavering gun.

"I'd prefer not to. I'm not a Morganian, you know..." Horvath murmurs conversationally.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"And while I am mostly on the side of good and don't really have a taste for violence, I have had to kill two of your associates in self defense and I am just a bit on edge, just now, with you magical types trying to kill me twice in a full twenty-four hours. I will only advise you not to make any sudden movements." She says, with a flash of her teeth. Her fangs are very small but not unnoticeable.

[bitterguardian]

Privately, Horvath is a little amused. He's not quite sure what his reputation with the Morganians is, when it comes to mortality rates, but if Eva can throw some fear into the other sorcerer, he's all for it. Pocketing the other man's rings, he lets go of his wrists at last. Whether the man is truly helpless without his rings or not, he'll feel helpless, and that's enough. "Here, don't bleed out on me. I may need questions answered..." It's a grumble, but Horvath focuses a moment on healing the flesh wound just enough to stop the bleeding. He's not offering any painkilling spells, though.

Chevelle looks utterly bewildered to get any healing at all, but when Horvath brusquely directs him to sit on the bed, he moves obediently. "That's... you're... not a sorceress. What are you?" He stares, cowed still, but slightly less so now that Horvath has let him go. He rubs his wrists, reddened from the tight grip of before.

"That's no way to speak to a lady." Horvath grumbles, offering to take the chalice.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"I haven't the faintest idea." She replies cheerily. "Unknown, pending scientific investigation. It is catching, however, so if you try anything, try not to get any of my blood on you." She hands Horvath the chalice but doesn't take her eyes of Chevelle. She'd made that mistake before with his underlings. Even without his rings, she won't trust him.

[bitterguardian]

She didn't warn Horvath of that, earlier, but he makes no comment on it, just takes the chalice with a quiet breath of relief. He's not yet sure if he should outright destroy it, or just lock it away somewhere, but for now he wraps it quietly in wards, ring glowing, and watches Eva with the captive sorcerer.

"..It's a disease?" Chevelle shifts his injured leg and winces, muttering, "Sale pute... catching she says..."

Horvath's growl is like thunder, full of menace and warning. "One more word, and I may rethink your fate. You do not speak unless I say you can."

[ladyevangelinenix]

He would have to have an open wound with blood-to-blood contact, and even then he might not get it, but Eva will explain all to him later. The way the color drains from Chevelle's face is worth the bit of psychological warfare.

"I heard that." She says, rolling her eyes. "I once shot off a man's nose in a duel at university for calling me such a thing, so if you'd like to keep your nose, I'd do as Mr. Horvath says."

She glances at the chalice. She hopes he will at least let her make a study of it before he does whatever he's going to do with it.

[bitterguardian]

So much for any hope he had that Eva doesn't speak French. Horvath strolls over to stand beside her, regarding Chevelle thoughtfully with the chalice still in his hand. "I could just knock him out... erase his memory of the past twenty-four hours or so and leave him wondering where this went and what happened to his Master and compatriots..."

"...Master Gautier is dead, then." Chevelle flinches once he's said it, since he wasn't given permission to speak.

Horvath raises an eyebrow warningly.

[ladyevangelinenix]

She did have the typical formal education afforded to most women in her youth. Not that that particular phrase would be part of a governess' vocabulary. That she had learnt off a charlatan medium who did not take well to her having exposed his sham trade for what it was. Also she can understand Aramaic, Sumerian, Latin, and Greek, retaining a little street French is no trouble.

"That would be best. No need for more bloodshed. If you have it in you." She says, very aware of how much magic he's used since his recovery period.

[bitterguardian]

The most taxing thing he's done today, in fact, was healing her. Horvath doesn't regret it for a second, though. She's more than repaid the favor in assistance. "I... could probably use a full night's sleep, after this. But I'll retrieve the horses first." He rubs his eyes, nodding mildly. "Is there anyone else involved in this assassination plot? Be aware that the answer could make the difference between my taking away the knowledge that your Master is dead." Horvath moves toward Chevelle, looming, although it's hard to say whether or not that's actually deliberate.

Cringing slightly, Chevelle shakes his head. "O-only the five of us, and Herriot's dead, too..."

"Mm. So I heard. That means you're the only one left alive. I pray you never lead your own apprentices to such ruin." Horvath sighs, and lifts a hand, ring glowing.

Again Chevelle flinches, as if he's expecting to be struck, but then he makes a slow collapse back onto the bed, out cold.

The Chalice is set down firmly on the nightstand. "I'm sorry for that." Horvath is frowning still. "Gautier taught his apprentices respect for no-one but himself." He should have known she'd speak French, and probably a half-dozen other languages besides. "I'll put him back at the train station, when I'm done. Behind the stables, perhaps... memory erasure is... morally dubious, I'm afraid, but I can't think of anything better to do with him."

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Less morally dubious than killing him." She assures him. "Though admittedly I am in no position to judge." She puts away her revolver and goes to examine the chalice with all the wide-eyed curiosity of her usual self.

"I'll wait here. I don't sleep much, and besides, I won't think of it until I'm sure you are back and rested." She smiles at him and then, adds, as a bit of an after-thought: "What I said before, about the vampirism being catching-- you'll be fine. It transfers blood-to-blood and is very hard to spread, or the country from which it originates would be absolutely crawling with the things." She assures him.

[bitterguardian]

"I wasn't worried." He smiles gently at her. "I confess I'm no expert, but I was under the impression it took some deliberate effort. But... I wouldn't mind being able to do without sleep, at least." He crouches to lift Chevelle's feet and slide them over so the man is lying full length on the bed, then pulls over a chair to sit beside it.

"I'll... probably have to destroy that, you know." He eyes the chalice as he sits, noting her interest. "No good can come of a thing like that."

[ladyevangelinenix]

"Probably." She admits, though she sounds a bit sad when she says it. There are many objects of evil in her library, but none that so far have garnered such violent attempts to retrieve them. She must concede for safety that this item should not continue to exist.

"Will you allow me to examine and perhaps photograph it?" She asks. "Before you do so?"

[bitterguardian]

"That... sounds like the best compromise there could be." He nods slowly. "If I thought it were as simple as disenchanting it, I'd leave it as a pretty artifact, but the magic to poison a target was worked into the very making of the thing, and it's even older than I am. Photograph it well, then I'll have it melted down."

He turns back to the man on the bed, letting her examine the chalice while he works. The way he lays his hands on Chevelle's forehead is almost gently paternal, and he is silent as he focuses, ring glowing blue again. He has many, but the one set with the blue stone is clearly the most heavily relied-upon. It takes him several long minutes to work the spell, then as an afterthought he stands and puts a hand to the man's leg wound. Chevelle should be very grateful to have run up against Horvath. He'll kill a Morganian without blinking if he has to, but when he can afford to be gentle, it's his first instinct to help rather than harm.

[ladyevangelinenix]

Eva looks at the chalice all over, makes a rubbing of the engraving on the outside for her journal, jots down a number of things about it's appearance. She'll have to photograph it during the day, but she'll make as many notations as she can about it now and while she's waiting for him to return.

[bitterguardian]

Not only does he heal Chevelle's leg, but under the glow of Horvath's rings, even the blood and the tears in his pantsleg are mended. Of course if they weren't, he'd be wondering how and why they were there when his leg was fine. When it's all done, Horvath straightens and runs a hand over his mustache and beard. The battles today have only been the end of a chase that's had him traveling non-stop for weeks.

"Will you be all right here, while I drop him off and take your friend's horses back?" She is, after all, in his hotel room. Propriety matters less when there's no chance anyone saw her come there, of course, and if she's willing to suffer another magical teleportation he can make sure nobody will see her leave, either.

[ladyevangelinenix]

"I'll be fine." Propriety outweighs her concern for his health and safety. "Don't rush back on my account, if you find yourself particularly exhausted. She would go with him, but she imagines it takes much more to teleport two people.

[bitterguardian]

"Mmm? Oh, I'll be all right. It's not so much the power as the focus- well. Nevermind. I'll be back shortly. Don't open the door to anyone, just in case?" As long as she doesn't let anyone in, nobody can get into the room without Horvath's permission, thanks to magic wards that are simply habit, for him. He's not really expecting trouble now, but it never hurts to be cautious.

With a quiet grunt, but no apparent difficulty, he pulls Chevelle up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She's right that the more people he has to take with him, the more power it takes, but he can manage a few more trips yet. Magic energy is like any other kind, and one may find unexpected reserves if the need is great enough.