EOSD Story pilot/protoype.

To the Esteemed Lady Knowledge,
I have the pleasure yet again, of inviting you to an occasion.  I would not call it something as a banquet, nonetheless, on the 25th day of this month, the House of Scarlet shall be having a communion with the visiting party of Lascelles. All nobles will be present, down to the rank of knight. Of possible interest to you, their renowned alchemist, will also be present.
-maybe Blathe talks about what will happen at the event
Cordially,
Blathe Scarlet

---

"Good to see you, Ms. Knowledge."
"And you as well, King Blathe." The magician walked up stone steps to the entrance of a mansion, where the king stood accompanied by a servant. She looked up at the towering door, so large it could be rightfully called a gate. That said, it was rather plain affair: a heavy, well-used, wooden door that reached well above their heads. A low hum sounded as the servant reopened the door, and Blathe ushered Patchouli through the front doors of the mansion. Entering the reception hall, they were greeted by two young ladies dressed in red and blue.
"Patchouli!" The two Scarlet sisters rushed over to and caught the magician in a simultaneous embrace, though as they were they only could reach so far as her shoulder.
"Remilia, Flandre, it's good to you see two. You have been good, haven't you?" Three of the four figures freeze for a second, and it's Blathe responds, wryly amused. "Why, it's funny you asked that. This young lady had quite the fit over her attire for tonight." Remilia buries her head in Patchouli's side, while Flandre puts a hand over her mouth, stifling an awkward giggle. Now that she thought about, Remilia's outfit did stand out. Rather than a full length robe as was the norm, she wore a dress of vivid blue hues that ended a hands breath or so below her knees, in three layers of sparse frills.
"Well then, it seems the lady has acceptable taste.", she says softly, while gently patting Remilia's head. She was careful not to disentangle the ornaments on the younger girl's head.
Recovering from her embarrassment, Flandre pipes up, "How did your meeting go, Patchouli?"
"As the usual. An idiosyncratic band of persons, drawling somewhere along the boundary between semantics and politics." There much not much for Flandre to say after that, so the group started to walk toward the banquet hall.
	The knights and higher nobility sat separately along two long banquet tables. An odd arrangement brought about in deference to the size of the gathering and perhaps to encourage social intercourse. The kings also did not sit at the ends of the table, rather being seated closer to the center and facing each other. As she walked down the left isle towards her seat, Patchouli could feel the assessing eyes on her, though they faded out as she drew nearer. Curious. Were I less accustomed to this I'd be apt to return their gaze. She noted with annoyance that her seat was a rather removed from the Blathe's. The king was flanked by a prominent baron on his right, and the queen and their children on the left. I reckon this was inevitable. It may be a boring night.
Her musings were interrupted by the sound of someone drawing out the chair across the tale. Extending his hand, the simply dressed man asked "Would you be of the title Lady Knowledge? I am William Bertraph, a journeymen and alchemist by trade." Patchouli's eyes flickered in recognition. The alchemist Blathe had mentioned in the letter.
	"That is so. Patchouli Knowledge, pleased to meet you."
	"I have heard a great deal about you. You practice elementalism, is that mistaken?"
	"To an extent, yes." Her time was focused on studying the categories of fire, metal, and earth.
	"You see, the metals I use are seldom useful in actual potions meant for human consumption, by humans, so I'm curious as to their application in medical Thaumaturgy. Would you have any experience in the using metals as the material foci for third-phase or higher conjuration spells?".
"Third level? I'm afraid I haven't, not in practice. Though, I would think you needn't generate an entirely new product. Merely focusing on the reagents to instill properties on a target, would be sufficient. Of course, this is theoretically speaking..."
As the dialogue continued, she smiled inwardly. Tonight may be not so bland after all.

	The party is in full swing. The large oaken hall is filled with all sort of nobles, knights (without armor, of course) in their finest silk and linen. Along them stand their servants, who hasten to supply the food platters and condiments. Greetings, introductions, amicable, admiring glances, as well not so savory ones cast without second thoughts. Patchouli sit amidst the banter, musing silently again. After the earlier conversation, she was in a something of a good mood. There's a nice atmosphere to be had here. Greatly more amiable than those magician's councils I'm obliged to attend. Though, she points, it's hardly within my domain. She settles for examining the embroidered patterns on the outfit from her vantage point on near the end of the banquet table. Behind clear cut lines of the family sign, fainter non-distinct motifs adorn the outfit. An pleasant display of subtlety, perhaps more so than the wearer himself. My, that was harsh of myself.

	She raises a glance up, only to catch Remilia and Flandre standing up from their seats. The pair curtsy to their parents and surrounding nobles, speak a few more words, and turn together towards the exit. Curious, Patchouli stands and excuses herself, hurrying over towards where the two were sitting. She flags down a nearby servant and asks.
	"Mistress Flandre and Remilia have returned to their chambers. As the communion is still to continue for some time, they wished to retire for a time before the ball.
"Lady Knowledge.", the queen calls out from her seat. " Why don't you come and join Blathe and our guests."
A sharp discomfort strikes Patchouli. Odd. I am not suffering from any ailments that I know of.
"Come, sit here..."
She clears her head and little more of it.
"Yes, your majesty. It would be my pleasure."
Patchouli obliges the queen, and subtlety joins in, as the two kings and entourage continue to talk about the state of this country. Gossip between kings, one might say. About tales and news of houses near and far. Of houses near and far...

...
Unnatural wings flap. Appear, a darkest crimson. Despair and claws fall.
...

Figures danced in the hall of the Scarlet Mansion. The tables had been cleared out, and the servants had drawn out a luxurious carpet. A folk ensemble were playing a soft tune. What the musicians unknowingly drowned out as they worked their melodies, was nothing but a faint, shrill scream.
	Footsteps clack violently over wooden steps. Quick, ragged breaths. A servant bursts from the stairwell entrance into the dance hall. He collides with a certain alchemist.
"Good lord, what is the matter with you?"
The agitated servant babbles incomprehensibly. Something about the mansion?  The man's eyes were wide, pupils even wider, disturbed and pleading.
"What, hey. Calm down. I can't make sense of you."
"Upstairs, pfhfg", the servant sputters, "somonattacked the young mistresses!!"
Comprehension dawned on the man known as Betraph. Without wasting a moment, he dashed towards the staircase, the way the servant had came from. He cried in a hushed yell, "What are you doing? Go tell your king!" A moment later though, he turned back, intercepting the frantic servant. "Wait, where are the mistresses' quarters?" The servant replies, and he nods. "Go!",  and they depart in opposite directions.

	Footsteps clack violently over wooden steps. Quick, ragged breaths. Turn right, and then second room on the left. The halls are empty. The alchemist's mind was filled with anxiety. There were no room for any thoughts. There. The door was ajar, and he swung it violently aside.

	Something on the ground shimmers. In the white moonlight cast from the window, arcs of blood trail across the room. In the center, a dark blotch. A servant lays unmoving, in a pool of his own blood. Clothing dyed scarlet. Dead. His eyes rose to the remaining figures in the room.  Rushing over to the bed, the alchemist rolls over the two figures.
An cacophony of noise erupts as several figures burst from the door behind him. In hindsight, the alchemist might have realized, to some eyes, what a comprising position he was in. For now though, he had none to offer.
	 "Their alive! Someone get a healer!"

---

"Go fetch the doctor." The servant, having returned, departed yet again. The King and Lady Knowledge rushed over to the young mistresses' side. Two sets of bite marks on two pale, thin necks. Any fool would know what this meant. Exchanging looks with the mage for an instant, his gaze quickly turned vengeful as he bellowed "Everybody out! Now!" .The two knights that had accompanied the group, quickly funnel out of the room without a word. The alchemist turned around to leave, but the king stopped him. "You. Stay here. Let me be clear, no word of this is to leave this room."
	"Understood, my lord", comes the remaining voice in the room. A baron, his right-hand man. The alchemist and Lady Knowledge merely give a terse nods, with the lady's eyes betraying her racing mind.

More pattering on the floor boards. A shuffle behind them. The doctor rushed in front of them, waving them back.

[The doctor begins to tend to the girl's wounds. The alchemist suggests they be given anesthesia and Patchouli agrees. It will delay the changing process and buy more time. The doctor tells them that they should be moved to another room. "Do it alone", the king orders]

[The king orders the servant to dispose of the body. After the servant is done with that, he is to bring supplies and return to clean off the blood and other evidence from this room]

[alchemist, Patchouli, baron, Blathe are currently is this room. The doctor has finished moving out Flandre and Remilia to a seperate room]


[Now continuing, from Blathe's perspective]
He felt as if the weight of the world was boring down on him. The notion of duty was unfaimiliar, but stirred by a undercurrent of emotions, he could no longer be confident in his decisions. Calm down. Think through this rationally. What!? Why?! How could this happen!? Who would want ... dead? Our guests - the Lascelle?   I'll make them disappear. How many -- five, including Lady Knowledge. I cannot allow new of this to spread, yet nothing can be done without divulging the fact. A king cannot act beyond through his subordinates. Useless. Enough wasting of time, every second is key.

"Bertraph." The man flinched slightly at the direct address. The king's voice that broke the silence was cold and indisputable, and the man's face paled. With a dry mouth, he managed a response.
"Yes, your Majesty?"
"You will return to the hall. You will not speak about what you have seen or heard, and in no way will you alert your liege. The two young ladies are not feeling well tonight. They will know the truth soon enough. You will not cause the uproar those responsible require to blend in, thereby jeopardizing the honor of the Scarlet name and any relations your Lascelle currently holds with us." At his silent widening eyes, the king spoke again.
"Calm down." The man nodded.
 "Now go. Leave us." The man delayed no further and rushed from the room.

A moment of silence passes. A long moment.

"Daurmferg."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Send a dispatch to summon the Guild. On two counts, we will be needing their services. First, an escort of two for the two young ladies to Durbum. And secondly, a single squadron, for the infiltration and reconnaissance of the Lascelle castle pertaining to their uncertain relation to the assassination of Remilia and Flandre Scarlet.
Without a beat missed comes the answer.
 "Consider it done."

And then there were two. Blathe released his breath and slumped over in one of the chairs. The remaining figure in the room stood silently. The Lady Knowledge. There was no concern over trust. He had known her for long enough. Thought she had been a close friend to the himself, and by extension his daughters, visiting them every two weeks, due of her holding no official ties to the Scarlet house, he had no intention of involving her in the situation. Her allegiance notwithstanding, if there was anything the she could have done, she would have spoken of it by now.
"Shall we return to the party, Lady Knowledge?"
A nod. They walk back to the stairs, towards the uninterrupted sounds of banter down below.
Of my judgment of the people whom I surround my person, these next days will prove telling.