Ducard was seated back behind his desk a little while later, once again perusing cards after an afternoon snack of coffee and chocolate cake. He roved the cards, looking for significant names and stripes to indicate something of worth to him. His network was divided into two major aspects; investigation and observation. Investigation was more specific, and did not involve the cards that he was browsing at this moment. It was a specific call for looking into a person's background and activities, with every single act being written down. Observation was more general, and consisted of watching assigned marks and locations, and simply observing their activities for information that could be useful down the line. The cards were essentially updates on the general goings-on of a particular observation assignment.<br/><br/>Suddenly, something showed up that caught the Oligarch's eye. A red-striped card, something that was not part of everyday activity. "Valentine," he murmured. Lilith's aide, along with bodyguard and a cornucopea of other functions, aside from Lilith's preferred social activities, though nothing more than general mention of romantic connections with another had ever been rooted out. "Bring me report V724-7," Ducard called out to the men stationed in the hall, one of the suited men leaving his post at the door to run to the filing room in the basement. Underneath Ducard's mansion was a nest of information that would make a head of state cream in their pants. The security was also enough to give a king an orgasm, with some of the best soldiers in the Opal Oligarchy, foot-thick steel doors, weekly password changes, and a few tricks set up by the magical Oligarch himself.<br/><br/>Soon enough, the man returned with several pages of paper, a few of quick notes written with a pencil and one sheet that was typed out on a typewriter in an organized format pre-determined by the Oligarch. Browsing it, a slight furrow in his eyebrows were the only thing to betray Ducard's interest. "Dragon slayers, eh?" he murmured. Valentine was looking for dragon slayers. Which translated to Lilith looking for dragon slayers. "Get me any reports on dragons within two days travel on horseback from the city," he said, rising from his seat and walking out of the room with several of his hirelings trailing him. It would be a more difficult search than the first, as they would have to peruse the records thoroughly without such a convenient method of discovery.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, Ducard made his way to a smaller room down the hall, with several large wardrobes and an entire wall as a mirror. Opening all the doors, he began to peruse the first closet, filled with as many kinds of clothes as could be found in a store. Selecting a large, ragged robe of brown fabric and a roughed-up, wide-brimmed hat of the same colour, the Oligarch began to undress from his colourful demonhide. It made him slightly uncomfortable, as the clothes provided considerable protection, but he ignored that as he folded his wings as tightly as possible before putting the coat on over a dirty linen shirt and horsehide pants with matching boots. Grabbing a pair of leather gauntlets, he closed the first wardrobe and moved on to the second, opening it to reveal uncountable amounts of small cosmetic features, from creams to change skin colour to eye patches to fake scars to false facial hair.<br/><br/>Grabbing a thick black wig and setting it aside, Ducard rubbed a juice that darkened his tanned skin further to a swarthier colour before adding a number of false scars and an eyepatch over his left eye. Sliding the false mane of black hair over his head, adjusting it to make it convincing, he put the large hat on to hide any remaining signs of his horns before covering both his hands in leather gloves. Turning to the mirror, he proceeded to look himself over. Aside from general height and build, the only feature that he had not changed or distorted were his eyes, which remained a deep hazel. Slouching to adjust his height, he nodded with approval and stepped out the door.<br/><br/>The rough and rangy individual, with old wounds and mangy clothes, was all but unrecognizable from the polished Oligarch that had entered the room that Ducard had set aside for disguises. But underneath, the cogs were turning as the sorcerer grabbed several large knives from the armoury and made his way out of the manor. With a few leather belts and a stick, he had stiffened his left leg to add a slight limp to his step, and thus clothed Ducard Lorenze, leading member of the Opal Oligarchy, made his way towards the home of his peer that was known as the Empress. "If she wants a dragon slayer," he growled in a raspy voice quite different from his cold and polished one, "then I'll give the Empress a dragon slayer."