Ardaik 16th - Tulot, Serellia

Just as Flann and Artus reached the end of the north hall, the door to the king's war room was opened by Folian. The guard captain stepped out, eyeing the two briefly, before stepping out of the way and holding the door for those behind him. A young woman emerged into the hallway, with Bhalthier and another stranger trailing behind one another.

"I thank you for your patience, Cullach." The envoy's voice was high pitched but light and feminine in a way that was quite beautiful, not unlike a songbird, and made exotic by a thick accent that Artus didn't recognize. "I was told you were readying to return to Homenil before we arrived." Her appearance, however, was one of the strangest things Artus had ever beheld.

Her ears were somewhat elongated into points, much like the necromancers' had been, but she was undoubtedly not an elf. Two black horns, much like those on the antelope sometimes seen near Lorellia's southern border, protruded from her temples, parting her snowy bangs. The flesh color of her skin melded into a sooty black just below her elbows, almost creating the illusion of the long gloves made famous among the wealthy by the Duchess of Recheston, and each of her thin fingers ended in a pointed claw. Artus was confident when she'd turned to look at Lord Cullach as she walked that he also saw a tail the same color and texture as the rest of her flesh, pointed, and perhaps not even long enough to reach the back of her knees.

"Think nothing of it, tinislast sen issen," Bhalthier replied, showing off the fluent Elvish that he so rarely found a use for in everyday life.

"Your elvish is quite impressive," the petite woman said with a bright smile. "Better than my own."

The other stranger remained silent, and he looked far more imposing than the first. His stature, build, and attire were very similar to Folian or any other guard, though he was clearly not human either. His dark skin held a purplish-blue hue, and lacking a tail or horns most likely made him a Drau. He sported a scar that raced across his face in a jagged line from the top of his left brow to just below his left cheek, and his left eye was a different color from the right, one white and one red. His hair was also streaked white where the scar reached his hairline, standing out against the dark navy locks.

"Ah, here they are now," Bhalthier motioned towards the two princes. "Flann, Artus, meet High Cleric Yuli Xolin and her escort, Vaklo Alvano. They've been charged with investigating the attack on La'Trest."

Artus's manners were instinctual. He offered his dominant hand to the high cleric while the other settled behind his back. "Artus Moreau Viotto," he recited in a stately tone as she placed her clawed hand in his. Now that they were face to face, it was clear that despite looking almost dragon-esque, she was quite small. Shorter than Artus, even, by nearly half a foot if her horns weren't considered, which made her the average size of a Cardenian woman...but he still didn't know what she was, other than a Citadel mage.

Her eyes, nearly the same hue as his own, studied Artus for a brief moment before she spoke. "The Lorellian prince, then? You don't appear to be one of King Liam's."

"Yes," Artus said, performing an appropriate bow for his station. It was a strange feeling, however, to not be recognized by his name alone, and he wasn't sure if he felt somewhat offended or not.

"Intriguing. So, you were not present in La'Trest during the attack?"

Artus released her hand. "Not in the castle, no."

"You were witness to the dragon, though. Can you recall much about him?"

"Him? About the dragon?" Artus wracked his brain for a moment. Much of the last week felt so very far away as if it had happened lifetimes ago rather than mere days.

"Yes. Auganull the Black."

"I...never truly got a good look at it."

She tilted her head slightly, but her horns made the movement all the more obvious. "And you, Prince Flann?"    

"Er, I mean, he's larger enough ta slice a Lorellian Galleon in two like an axe through soft pine, I'an tell ya that much," Flann added.

"I see," Yuli said before looking up at Bhalthier. "Perhaps I could impose on his majesty once again and use his war room for a little longer? I'd like to speak to each of them individually."

Artus was again taken aback by the high cleric. Although she had phrased the use of King Liam's space as a question, the authority in her tone left little doubt as to what an acceptable response would be. He himself had rarely ever even seen any of the Citadel's mages. There was a large embassy in La'Trest, but the royalty hardly welcomed its operatives within the castle.

"Let's have you first, Prince Artus," she chimed, motioning for him to precede them into the war room.

Vaklo moved to close the door once inside but paused when Artus spoke up. "Captain Spar?"

Folian was standing beside Flann and Bhalthier and had to take a few steps to get a clear view of him through the threshold. "Aye?"

"Would you join us?"

Folian glanced at the two Citadel mages, who didn't seem to have any protests, then at Flann. Once another guard had replaced him outside of the door, he joined them, taking up the same corner he had waited in while they questioned Bhalthier.

"You must have an excellent reputation, Captain," Yuli suggested as Vaklo closed the door. "For a foreign prince to know you by name..." she noted as she pulled a small book, much like the one the Merchant Guild emissary had used, along with a quill from a satchel Artus hadn't noticed hanging near her hip amidst the pale, sleek panels of her dress.

"I think, in this case, it's more circumstantial," Folian replied while he watched her open his king's inkwell.

"Have a seat," she said, motioning for Artus to sit at the round table he'd been at once before. "On what date most prior to the attack on La'Trest did you acquire the Relic of Kamuhr?"

Artus felt the color drain from his features. "The one used in the ceremony at the Festival of Lights?"

"Yes."

His gaze briefly shifted to her deep indigo, drau associate. "I didn't have it."

Yuli perched herself on a chair next to him and crossed her ankles. She looked almost like a child seated in the Serellian-sized piece of furniture. "I'm not in any position to hold anyone responsible for their actions, nor am I obligated to report anything that would be considered inconsequential to this case, your highness. But I do need your account for my records. Therefore, it would behoove us both for you to recount the events following your acquisition of the relic to the best of your ability."

"I see..." Artus muttered.

"If we're going to locate Obtoxicullous, it would help to piece together his motives."

"And you believe he was interested in the relic?"

She nodded. "That's correct."

"What exactly does a high cleric do?" Artus asked. Curious where the limits of her patience and assumed authority could be found.

She glanced up from her scrawling and smiled pleasantly. "Let's stay on topic."

"The sixth," Artus said, watching her as she continued to write.

"The same day as the attack?"

"Yes. That evening. An hour, possibly two, before we saw the undead for the first time."

"We?" She perked up. "Who else was in your company that you can name?"

Artus's heart sank. He wished Flann was in the room beside him rather than out in the hall. The Serellian would have something loud but confident to say. He'd act instantly to relieve Artus of some of the heavy weight on his chest. Artus was sure of it. "Prince O'Conar."

Yuli nodded.

"Sir Edward Sebastien... my personal guard, Kenton..."

"And are they here or in Lorellia?" She wondered, only looking up from her notes when Artus didn't immediately answer.

"I believe one is. The other is deceased," Artus said before swallowing.

Another gentle nod from the horned woman. Oddly enough, Artus found it somewhat comforting that she offered no feigned condolences but rather respectfully moved in instead. "Was that all?"

"Lord Rowan De Saint-Pierre...a close friend of mine."

"I see," she said softly, once again wetting the tip of her quill. "Were any of the aforementioned aware that you had the relic in your possession, and do you still have the relic now?"

Artus found her second query strange. If she believed he still had it, why wouldn't she have asked that first? "All of them except for Kenton...and no."

"Did any of them knowingly aid you in acquiring the relic?"

"No."

"Coerce you to acquire it on your own?"

"...No."

She was silent for a stretch of minutes before continuing. "Prince Artus, do you know if any of the aforementioned individuals excluding the deceased, were at any time or are currently in possession of the relic?"

"What does it do?" Artus asked, earning her full attention. "Why would the necromancer want it? It's just an heirloom. A little round rock. It's not even an attractive trinket."

Yuli drew in a slow breath and then exhaled it, allowing her gaze to drift thoughtfully toward the ceiling. "Do Lorellian intellectuals study the elvish language as some Serellians do?"

"It's not uncommon among the upper echelons."

"Do you speak it then?"

Artus tilted his chin up slightly. "I can speak and write in Elvish."

"Could you understand the characters inscribed on the relic?"

A frown tugged slightly at the corner of Artus's lips. "...No. It looked like jibberish."

She wrote down two more lines of notes. "...When did you last have possession of the relic, and when was the last time you encountered Auganull?"