An almost frosty day within Crocus, a morbid feeling overcast throughout the city, the weather being an irrelevant element to the sorrowful reality that now existed. The deaths throughout the city, done by Astrid’s hand, had become known throughout, with no clear motivation surrounding why it had happened. The only thing that was clear was that the man whom Astrid has slain last, the member of the night watchmen who she had framed the murders on, was the key suspect in it all. His motivations unknown, his agenda unclear. It simply happened, as terrible as it was. The people, wanting to move past the horrible incident, struggled with the reality though. People were dead and there was no reason that they could tell why.

Friends. Coworkers. Associates. Family. To someone within Crocus, each person whose life was stolen by Astrid had someone that would come to miss them. And even then, it wasn’t much important to her, nor to those close. They were means to an end at the end of the day. Neither of them would have argued otherwise, nor would they pretend to shed a tear.

The two enjoyed the company of one another as they enjoyed a morning glass of wine, curtesy of the winery that had become their primary base of operations. The morning sun cast through large windows above, providing a welcome blanket of light that seemed to make their drinks taste all the better.

“Cheers,” Lady Tsara celebrated as she held her glass up, the red wine splashing against the rim.

“To?” Astrid asked, an eyebrow raised as she entertained her tipsy aunt-like figure.

“To a new day… To your hard work…” The slurred words of Lady Tsara did not hide her delight, her excitement for the progress that Astrid had made towards her overtaking her father. Things were moving forward faster than perhaps either of them could have ever expected, and her success last night was all the more indicator of that success. “To… to your destiny! One that we shall achieve!”

Astrid could not help but flash an earnest smile, one that as much hid the cruel nature that she had accepted to get to this point. There were no shortage of bodies now spilled for her success, but she did not much care. The main thing was that she was all the closer to being able to breathe, to revel in the glory that was awaiting her. “To my destiny,” she exclaimed as she rose her glass to meet Lady Tsara’s, a loud cling radiating through the winery.

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Though the moment was almost touching between the two, like a mother basking in the success of her daughter, it soon found itself cut short by the expected third wheel, the winery owner Freddie Khuschev, unable to hide his disapproval towards the early drinking escapades of the two women central to their current coup. “You realize how early it is?”

“Oh ‘Baron’, grab a seat, pour a glass! You must simply try this… this… Astrid dear, what are we drinking?” The Senator’s words slurring slightly as she leaned back to the now empty bottle that they had seemingly at random plucked from one of the many shelves. “This one! Oh… Sorry Freddie baby, it seems we’ve run out… Ha ha…”

“Tsara… It is much too early for this… I take you have had heard the news, hence this drinking of mine wine?” The man asked, his annoyance seeming to teeter upon anger now, seeing the vintage brands of his being consumed. Perhaps more, the ignorance towards his wine seemed to rile him.

An elated howling of laughter intertwined with delight echoed out, “But of course! Krautt made a point to see me this morning. Said that the,” she coughed, mockingly imitating the man’s voice, “the events of last night have struck me. What motivated them, I do not know. But if you believe that she can ensure that they won’t happen again, I will back her or something to that effect.”

Freddie Khuschev nodded, what frustration may have existed within him no longer evident upon his face at least. He proceeded towards the pair, taking the bottles from their possession, not for his drinking but rather for preservation. “X702 Baska Hills Blend, Vintage 2. Not my personal preference, they do make a good wine and I may be in the minority, but I find that their process of the last 50 or so years have vastly outclassed that of how they used to prepare their wines. Nonetheless, the vintage are a favorite, and I too find myself having a glass of theirs every so often.” He looked back towards the duo as he placed it delicately within a stuff crate containing straw and other empty bottles presumably having been drunk in recent time, “Not a full bottle mind you.”

“But yes, Krautt has decided that he will back you Astrid. I did not have the benefit of speaking to the Senator myself, but a colleague informed me of the conversation Lady Tsara speaks of. Seems your actions have quick left him unnerved. I would say that he is suspicious, but your decision to kill that night watchman is proving to be an unexpected boon.” He returned to the two women, carrying with him now not only a new bottle of a deep red wine, but a pair of wine glasses. “Your father set up the Night Watch as a means of helping to protect Crocus. A city militia of sorts. For one of their trusted members having been implicated in the mass murder of citizens out of nowhere, needless to say the people are struggling to come to terms with it.”

“Not only that though, but it seems that doubt has crept into the organization as a hold. A close contact informed me that they will cease patrols for an indeterminant amount of time while they figure whether or not it goes deeper than just that one man. Hence, we can consider that matter resolved. Which leads us to other matters…”

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He pulled up a seat and looked directly at Astrid, his eyes gazing into hers, “We have the support we need amongst the Senators. There are more, but either are too closely aligned to your father or otherwise lack the influence to waste our time on. At this point, our main goal should turn towards finding the crux of what will turn the people and more importantly, King Reign, against your father. We have the support in place to back us, but need the catalyst that will set it all off.”

Astrid looked a him intently. The way he spoke, it wasn’t as though it were simply a random thought that had occurred to him. It seemed far more deliberate, far more thought out already. Him telling her this was not a matter of figuring out the next step, but rather informing of her of what would happen next. “And what might that be?”

Khuschev said nothing at first, instead smiling as he uncorked the bottle of wine, the fresh aroma filling the immediate proximity. Pouring the two glasses he brought, he extended the bottle towards Lady Tsara as he refreshed her current glass. “Oak Premier Winery, X550. From my personal reserve. Appropriate given everything.” He took a sip, saying nothing but seeming to simply appreciate the drink. “Just as good as I had last had it. To your question Astrid, we have someone who will be helping with that. In fact, I think you may have met already…”

A figure stepped from the same door in which Freddie had come, adorned in a heavy black coat. A figure whom Astrid could not immediately appreciate by appearance alone, neither was the alcohol helping either, but after some focus she began to loosely resemble some sort of memory. Then suddenly it hit her; it was the man whom had helped her get to Crocus from Oak! The man who knew exactly of her situation, who knew her!

“You!”

“Good to see you again Astrid. Glad to hear that you have made considerable progress, further perhaps than I first figured.”

Freddie turned his head back to face the man, in one hand holding up a glass of wine, inviting him to sit with them. “You two have already met? Perfect! Saves the introductions…”

“Not exactly. A loose interaction hardly merits an introduction. Sadly, I doubt Astrid here could put any name to my face.”

“Ah, then allow me. Astrid, allow me to introduce you to Iblis, Guild Master of Phantom Lord. One of the most influential figures within our world and depending upon who you ask, the defacto rule of Oak Town.”

Iblis bowed, “It’s an honor. I expect you and I will be getting a chance to know each other quite well over this little venture, Astrid.”

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