Liquid fire speckles the stone underfoot as freshly drenched torches illuminate jagged, damp cave walls. The sound of hard soles softly clopping against earth, and distant humming of winds seeking an escape from deep within the tomb fill an otherwise still atmosphere. The warm glow of each improvised tool offers only direction, as the destination ahead has already succumbed to a chill, not even the forgotten sunlight could have conquered. Four silhouettes cautiously slog further into the depths, remaining as close to each other as they can without risking restricting or startling one another. Keeping their lips sealed and their breaths muffled beneath fabric, they listen.With a sudden pause and one finger raised in the air, the leading silhouette brings all others to a halt. Lifting his torch to just above shoulder level, he watches the darkness ahead of them shift about. With only his eyes and the tissue around each exposed, he maintains his composure. Trails of luminescent smoke ch

Dim streetlamps illuminate damp, cobblestone pathways and the decrepit outlines of stone huts with shingled, a-frame roofs. Each individual building becomes more clear as the trio moves further into the otherwise barren village. Aside from these constructs, the only other life that makes itself known is a murder of crows atop the roof of a tavern at the far end of the main street. Rising fogs condensate on the glass of each window, soaking into the wooden frames and warping them in the slightest of ways. The three continue their approach, hearing the strings of a piano being plucked and the jolly hoots, cheers, and laughter of a crowd within. Being cautious of their surroundings and on the lookout for anything suspicious, they step onto the porch. Briar- taking the lead- reaches out with his crossbow extended and pushes it against the front door. As the hinges creak and reveal what lies within, the music stops. Noticing this, the occupants also begin to silence themselves one by one.

With uniforms stained by the ascendancy of their hunts, the trio venture through forests and bogs lining the foot of a great mountain. A mountain into which The Council's accommodations have been carved. Along with a pass that serves no other purpose but to give direction towards the board members themselves. Scaling the rocky surface and reaching the crest with aching calves and wintry pink skin, they peer through gusts of wind-swept snow, spotting icy grey bricks and worn, arched cedar double doors; Home of the Pureblood Covenant. As the grand doors creak loudly against their hinges, raging winds assist in pushing them apart. Halls within cool as a draft rushes through them, causing candle flames to flicker and those residing inside to close themselves off from the open corridors. Nearing the center of a great hall, their shivers start to subside, and warmth from several fireplaces turns the frost on their weapons into droplets that speckle the marble floors. As the aroma of roasted

With dusk approaching, numerous Nostrum awaken speaking in whispers, before rushing out of the quarters. As his mattress shifts from the weight of a bunk-mate hurrying off, Briar groggily pulls himself up and rubs his eyes. Once they're open again, he looks in the direction of the man that woke him, catching only a glimpse of his feet as he rounds a corner and darts down the hall. Curious as to what has alerted the others, and seeing that neither Belial nor Cronn are in their bunks any longer, he lifts himself up and follows the man's trail. With only the sound of bare skin slapping stone to guide him, he keeps as close as he can to the other but inevitably loses them among the corridors. Stopping at a point where the hall splits in opposite directions, he pauses and looks towards both ends before hearing a large door knock against its frame. Turning to the left, he picks up speed once again. Then, pushes through the same door the bank-mate did prior. As the light of a burning brazier

"Do you find it strange, Briar? That The Council would permit us to leave in place of others, even when we were at the heart of a present threat?""Perhaps that's why they would rather us be away." Briar raises the Kneller's bell in his hand and turns it about as he speaks. "If the Great Beast has picked up Belial's scent, it would be best to remove him from the current situation.""How might that be?""Well," he begins, clutching the bell's clapper in his hand and twisting it back and forth, "that depends on what remains unspoken. Perhaps, they wish to preserve his safety. Sending him off with beliefs that the beast hasn't taken hold of his scent would give him a chance at recovering. Or...," he pauses, snaps the thick metal apart, and tosses the clapper aside, "they have hopes that the beast will trail the scent." Slinging a rope over his shoulder, he ties both ends together. Then, loops a portion around the handle, pulls it tight, and lets the bell fall securely to his side. "Who a