<b>RE: A new fate for the Twins [Razgriz x Karameida x Serenity]</b><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff"><a class="link link--internal" href="http://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=45597&amp;pid=1192010#pid1192010"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">Mortimer Fortescu</span></a></span>::<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">Harmon Fortescu</span>::<a class="link link--external" href="http://lalaax.deviantart.com/art/My-Empire-165692541" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">Archibald Morinth</span></a>::<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">Occultists</span></span>​</div><br/><b><u>Date: July 23, 1854. Location: Undisclosed, somewhere on the outskirts of London</u></b><br/><br/>It was a fine day in London, England; the streets were rife with activity. Men bowed, women curtsied in greeting to each other; some went so simple as to give their greeter a lift of the hat. Lords and viscounts walked cheerfully, going about their business as usual. Some fathers taught their offspring the finer arts: Shooting, swordsmanship and horse riding for the sons, often sewing and other ladylike activities for the daughters. Some daring young lasses even went so far as to exhibit their handcrafted masteries for others to gaze upon, for it was not uncommon to have a proper lady humbly display her skill with the thread and needle. For the upper class, it certainly seemed like everything was the way it should be.<br/><br/>However, an unseen turmoil lurked beneath the seemingly tranquil atmosphere, privy only to those that were allowed and chosen to partake in it. A shadowy group that few heard of and even less knew of its name, its sole goal to overthrow the crown and take it for themselves. One might think that the King and Queen of England would have enough manpower to quash any threat that might seek to destabilize their reign, but their elusive leader was virtually untouchable, for he was a Duke, the highest order of the non-royal noble class and second in power only to the Royal Family themselves. The Duke, Lord Archibald Mornith of Whitechapel, was a powerful man indeed; like any other noble, his income of land-renting and investment in the trades of fur, tea, silk and precious minerals allowed him access to unseemly amounts of money. And with it, he was pursuing another method to overtake the crown's enormous army: It was something of a fable, thought long lost to the relics of time itself. A group of men ranking among Earls sat before the Duke, their shifty gazes clearly wary of their leader's wrath. All were seated at a round table; twelve of the thirteen chairs were filled and placed around the furniture's circumference. At the 'head' sat a man in a chair covered in regal furs, his clothing of impeccable quality and his face showing an extreme displeasure at the state of affairs; for long moments, his wandered to the twelve other finely-dressed men in this room, as if examining them for dishonesty. He then finally spoke, the irritation clear as ever in his voice,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"For nearly a year....A year has almost passed and yet you imbeciles find nothing! Assassins, ransoms, kidnappings...All these plans and yet we are no closer to achieving our goal!"</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"My Lord, please be merciful; this book you speak of...It will take time to find. No one even knows where it was last seen...We have small groups searching possible areas where it could be found...."</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Tell me, Lord Benedict...Have you forgotten what the King is trying to do? He's trying to let the trash in...Saying 'We owe them the chance to progress'. That we should try to be more 'inclusive'. Would you honestly let your sons and daughters mingle with the uncouth and uneducated?!"</span>the Duke then asked pointedly.<br/><br/>Lord Benedict seemed to recoil at this, to which another said in defense,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"My Lord...Even if we do find the book, legends say that there is only one location where we can perform the ritual. Lord Benedict is correct in that this will take time to accomplish"</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"And how many times do I have to repeat this...The legends also tell that the book holds the location! Once we find the book, everything else will fall into place perfectly. I am sure of it! And the longer we spend gaining no progress, the more the King can allow these unwashed braggarts to call themselves 'Lords' and 'Ladies'. It's a right disgrace to society is what it is. And where in the devil is Lord Fortescu?!"</span>Before the tirade could continue, a knock was heard on the door; all attention shifted to the sudden disturbance as Duke Morinth stated,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Enter"</span>. A tall man sporting a pair of muttonchops in a fine suit and top hat came through, carrying a tied up scroll of parchment; it was a message. The man gave a lift of his hat and walked forth; the Duke glared pointedly and asked,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"What is the meaning of this disturbance, Lord Bennet?"</span>as he snatched the scroll from the gentleman's hands, to which the messenger replied politely,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"It's from Lord Fortescu, Your Grace...One of his runners brought it to me just now"</span>. The Duke opened the scroll, his eyes scanning the parchment; slowly his expression shifted from annoyance to surprise to utter shock.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Your Grace...."</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"My Lord, is everything alright"</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"What's happening?"</span>several of the Lords asked, to be silenced when Archibald rolled up the parchment and orderd,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Bring Lord Fortescu here....Immediately"</span>.<br/><br/><b><u>A few hours later....</u></b><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"I see.....And how long ago did you find this?"</span>Archibald asked a black-haired man in a fine suit with a well-polished wooden cane; the man's green eyes peered at the Duke in contemplation before he replied,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"I found it this morning; I must admit I had no idea it would THERE of all places"</span>. The Duke turned a large, very ancient-looking book over in his hands with a large grin on his face,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Well, one must give credit for cleverness; where else to hide something like this other than right beneath our noses. And to hide the book itself in its own lost chamber, ensuring maximum chance it would never be discovered"</span>. Even if it wasn't intended for a town to be built right above where they needed to be, the Duke still congratulated them on their shrewd insight into those that heard of the legend.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Seems I was right in selecting you, Fortescu; as a descendant of those that sealed the Twins of Light and Darkness, along with the rest of the Lords here, only you thirteen would have the potential to discover the Tomb's whereabouts. And now that we have it...We can proceed"</span>.<br/><br/>The Duke cracked open the book, coughing slightly at the dust that arose from having the pages moved in so long before flipping through it; a few moments would pass by before Archibald uttered, his index finger resting intently on one of the pages,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Ah....Here it is. Just as I thought...The Sealing Ritual here all laid for us to decipher"</span>. He then looked up and said in a commanding tone<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"All except Lord Fortescu.....Leave, for there is something we must discuss"</span>. The twelve other Earls took their leave indeed, leaving Lord Fortescu, the Duke's right hand Lord Bennet, and the Duke himself.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Harmon...Does your son Mortimer know of this?"</span>he asked the good Earl, to which he replied after a shake of the head<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"No...And I would be pleased if it were to stay that way"</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Of course, old friend; do not concern yourself, for when we succeed your son will share in the coming prosperity. He will make a fine Lord himself one day"</span>. Harmon merely nodded in reply; he often wondered if he was doing this for himself or his son. While it was true he resented that the lower classes were essentially disrupting the natural order of things, some of the girls who approached Mortimer - and himself given that his beloved Judith had died shortly after giving birth to their son - who were below them in terms of wealth and status seemed more attractive in nearly every aspect overall now that they could afford nicer things.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Well then...Harmon, you may leave now if you wish; Lord Bennet and myself must discuss what the next course of action will be"</span>Archibald then stated; Lord Fortescu simply bowed and made an exit out of the meeting chambers.<br/><br/><b><u>Date: July 27, 1854. Location: Fortescu House, London, England</u></b><br/><br/>A knock sounded at the door of House Fortescu; one of the maids - a petite brown-haired, blue-eyed woman of barely five and a half feet height - came to the door only to see none other than Duke Archibald awaiting at the threshold, a cloth-wrapped package being carried under his left arm. "Ah! Lord Morinth! Fine day to you, m'Lord!" the maid spilled out; the Duke gave a lift of his cap and a bow and replied,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Fine day to you, madam. I was wondering if your Lord Fortescu was available"</span>. The maid nodded and after another curtsy and greeting him inside, scurried off to notify her master. Not long after, Harmon came walking down the steps dressed in his usual attire.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"Lord Morinth...Always pleased to make your acquiantance"</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"To you as well, Lord Fortescu; 'tis is a splendid day is it not? Though I must ask...Where is your boy?"</span>Harmon lowered his gaze and replied,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"He's out...canoodling with that Willownest girl. For reasons you know, I despise him being around her"</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Ah, yes, the Willownest family...One of the newer 'additions' to the upper echelons of society. I can understand your disapproval...But worry not, for soon she will be back in her rightful place"</span>.<br/><br/>At this Harmon was puzzled; the Duke noticed this and chuckled,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Forgive me, Lord Fortescu...I mean to say that soon everything will be as it should. Shall we...go downstairs for a moment?"</span>Harmon nodded in reply and after going down to the home's wine cellar, moved a wooden barrel out of the way to reveal quite the ornate stone piece: A circle of pure swirled onyx and diamond. Harmon placed his hand upon, causing it to depress into the wall and after a slight shuttering, the floor behind them began to part, revealing a stone stairway. The two Lords then descended the rather dimly lit path, Harmon carrying an oil lamp that he kept hidden behind another barrel of wine to light the way. They would eventually reach a large cavern, upon entering torches surrounding the room sprang to life, casting their glow upon a large circular piece of stone in the center and another standing across from it; the second slab seemed to resemble the stone Harmon had pushed to access the stairwell to get here.<br/><br/>The Duke then unwrapped his package to reveal the strange book; opening it again, Archibald looked around the room and as he did so, he found his grin growing wider and wider.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Amazing...It's all here. We have almost everything we need. I can't believe it's so simple; one would think that they would cast better protection on something like this"</span>Archibald commented excitedly; prior research into this matter had shown that they needed several items to complete the ritual. And now that the Tomb had been found...All that was needed was to simply perform the ritual itself. But they still needed one more piece, one the Duke knew would be incredibly difficult to obtain. Clearing his throat, Archibald then turned to Harmon,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Now, old friend, you know how this works...But there is something I forgot to mention because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable"</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"What is it?"</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Well, as you know...The Unsealing Ritual requires that one descendant carry an item that bears the name of the predecessor that sealed them away, to be used for the essence of them that will break the magic holding the Twins. It also requires that each person give a drop of their blood for the physical energy, to allow the Twins to manifest themselves"</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"Yes, I'm aware of that...Is there a problem?"</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Unfortunately...Yes. Based on Lord Bennet's translations of the writing and the knowledge he possesses, it requires the descendant to bring a flesh sacrifice"</span>Lord Fortescu could feel the color drain from his face and felt like he was going to faint; the poor Lord then stammered,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"Y..you mean my son...."</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"No, I don't know for certain; the text is degraded, but based on what we could piece together...The flesh sacrifice must come from the descendant and it must possess an innocence not yet corrupted; I could only assume it meant one of your offspring"</span>.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"No, I refuse to sacrifice Mortimer!"</span>Archibald patted his friend on the back, stating<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Come now; I just told you I don't know for certain. For all we know, it could mean we just a poor unwitting sap who has nothing left to give. There are plenty of those around here"</span>.<br/><br/>Harmon still seemed quite shaken; while it was true that the Duke didn't specifically state that his son was required for the ritual, the thought of doing that to his own flesh and blood made his stomach riot in protest.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"My sincerest apologies, friend; I did not mean to cause you such distress"</span>Archibald stated sincerely; Harmon just shook his head and replied,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">"It's nothing...Is there anything I can do? Just to absolutely eliminate the possibility of my son being sacrificed?"</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#32cd32">"Of course; we still need to get your cell prepared to perform the ritual. You'll be the only Lord there, as you know; the other Viscounts and Barons will be the other donors for the ritual itself. We'll find something, don't you worry"</span>.