Some things end, other begin...

Clouds hang low over the roofs of Camlorn, though such a thing was hardly a novelty for the local folk. Fat, lazy drops of raid drummed a lullaby over the tents of now deserted marketplace, bouncing off old ironware. Gray, mesmerizing.... dull. Such objectives were fit the most to describe an otherwise unremarkable evening in a normally bustling city-state. A lone flash of lightning, followed by a rumbling thunder echoed trough the seldom-populated streets. Here, a cat screeched, hissed, before darting behind a thoroughly-soaked crate. There, a lone guardsmen cursed vehemently, berating his poor fortune and the weather alike, not forgetting to mention the Divines as well...

At the southern end of Market Square stood an old, yet reasonably humble building. Though bigger then a standard residence, one would be hard-pressed to call it a mansion. The upper floors, visible from behind a solid stone fence, were dark, staring into the night with the empty eye-sockets of the windows. Not a single light, nor noise escaped from within, despite the fact that this place served as a residence, and at times - as a laboratry to a known mage. Oddly enough, the old oaken doors leading into the courtyard seemed to be left open, if only a fraction...

Not that any one paid it any attention, though. The Market Square, practically devoid of any life due to perilous weather, rendered it highly unlikely for the few remaining passers by, wrapped in long hooded and now thoroughly soaked cloaks much time, nor encouragement for such musings... And yet, a single figure lingered. The stature would indicate it as a man, seemingly shifting from one foot to another, even as he eyed the house from across the street despite the downpour...

Walking down the wet cobblestone roads, an Imperial man holding a small map in his hands. His face mostly buried in it as he walks throughout the city.
He wore his usual travelling gear. A red and slightly torn, burned, and dirty scarf. His torso cover in leather padding with pouches and straps across. Both his gauntlets and boots having plating on top of the scratched up dark leather. A Nordic designed sword sheathed at his side and a wooden shield hanging off his pack.
His face was mostly dirt, sweat, whatever ash was permanently stuck to his forehead from his forge and whatever the rain water added.

The warrior would mumble to himself as he walks. Helps pass the time.
"Ahhh nothing but sunshine and rainbows here. I always knew Bethany loved the magical places." He inhales a moment. "Still smell a bit of the baked bread in the air but not quite. Her home should be riiiiiiiiight here." He stood in front of the home, looking up and tilting his head. "I can cross off 'her home getting set ablaze' out of the list of options." Knocking on the door several times with loud bangs he pairs it up with his own shouts. "BETHANY! I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE! C'MON! COME OUT OF YOUR REALM OF OBLIVION AND SMELL THE BAKED BREAD AND RAIN!"

The banging and loud noise would last for a few minutes before he pauses. His eyes looks to the figure across the street, staring a moment before looking back at the house and backs up to see if he can see something move in the windows. "Bethany!" He holds his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the already loud noise coming from his mouth.

The loud banging on the door produced little effect, save for scaring off a pair of cats that darted between the warrior's legs, disappearing into the curtain of rain and dusk. The figure across the street observed the entire account, seemingly resisting the urge to bury his face in the depths of his palms. Silently, deftly, the figure made it's way across, before finally coming to a halt a mere meter away from the Imperial man.

- "Any more shouting, and you'll wake the dead all the way in Cath Bedraud..." - the hooded figure remarked in a calm, almost detached manner. - "You had successfully scared off every single feline and rodent within the square. And, quite likely, any one of actual import to the task. My commendations." - the latter part had the faintest hint of irritation to it, even as the man's voice remained unchanged.

Afer looks to the hooded figure with confusion.
"Look I don't want what you are selling. But have you seen anyone enter or leave this house? Please I'm looking for a friend. Breton woman perhaps, long black hair and always stuffing her face in a book or whatever."

He backed up from the house and proceeds to shout Bethany's name a few more times.

"Her barrier look like they are down. I don't know how that works but I know she always has them up."

He would walk to the door and kick it as if he was trying to break into it.

"Bethany if you are up there I'm coming!" he would look to the hood figure every now and again.

The hooded man looked back towards Afer, before finally shrugging. - "Given that fact that your rather articulate display of eloquence had likely scared off my quarry, no further harm can be achieved by entering. It seems that, for the time being, our goals align." - with that, the figure stepped past the Imperial man, one hand resting on the hilt of a simple, straight blade, as his raised palm emitted a soft glow. - "The wards, indeed, appear to be non-functional. We should proceed with caution..."

The faint glow of the man's raised arm was barely enough to illuminate the dark, deserted courtyard. Softly, with each step carefully measured and placed, he approached the door leading into the house itself. Just as his hand was about to grasp the handle, the figure tensed, froze in place. Leaning ever closer to the door, as if listening to something, he then proceeded to yank the door open, rushing in with speed and grace quite uncharacteristic for his presumed build. Should one proceed after him, they would be treated to an odd scene, as the figure held a pair of motley, burly men at the tip of his blade amidst the now plundered dining room.

The pair appeared to be shaking in their boots, with an expression quite alike to that of a Colovian possum, caught in the light of the rapidly approaching Dwemer Centurion. Only the subtle clink of the precious chalices and vases, grasped tightly by the would-be marauders, broke the otherwise pristine silence of the unlit room. One of the said goblets had escaped the shaky grasp of the thief, hitting the floor with an audible clang...

Afer would follow close behind the hooded man.
"Hey Bethan-" he fell silent as he watched the scene in front of him. "Who are those bastards? Better yet, why are they here? Where is Bethany?" He shouts for her name one more time before pulling out his dagger he kept strap to his waist.

Approaching the thief who dropped the goblet and points his dagger at him. Anger and annoyance covered his expression. "I am a very impatient man. I will ask once. Where is Bethany, and why are you here? And please lie to me. I want a reason to dislocate your jaw." He says the last part with a brief grin and tightens his grip on the handle of the dagger.

- "P-please, mercy! Mercy, m'lords!" - stammered one of the woeful miscreants. - "We ain't want no harm! We're, uh..."
- "You heard the man. Coherent answers only, if you please." - the hooded man remarked in a typical, detached fashion. The tip of his sword was still pointing forth, towards the pair of motley vagabonds.
- "B-but sire! Mercy! We're but a simple folk!" - she short, pox-marked man replied, no - whined, in response, still clutching his bounty tightly. - "Have pity on the poor, an' destitute!"
- "Senior Enchantress. Was she here, or was she not?" - the hooded man repeated his inquiry, a tad more forced this time.
- "Mercy sir, mercy!" - the closest of the would-be thieves dropped to his knees, some of the precious utensils he was clinging onto spilling down to the floor with an audible clang. - "The house was all empty! It was like it for e' lon' toime! Surely it's been abandoned, nay?"
- "And so you gotten into your flee-ridden sculls that it was free for the plunder." - the hooded figure sheathed his blade, taking a step to the side. - "I suggest you vacate the premises, before sustaining further bodily harm." - with a gesture, he stopped Afer from voicing any objections.
- "T-thank you, m'lords! Thank ye! Divines bless..." - the pair began to speak, almost in unison, as they backed away towards the door.
- "A moment. Aren't you forgetting something, gentlemen?" - the hooded man remarked evenly, even as his hand rested over the hilt of the blade. The pair of thieves exchanged a glance, before dropping their bounty onto the floor with a loud cacophony of clanging metal, before rushing in head-first into the night. - "Forget about them, master Leotus. They are scavengers, a vermin. They know nothing of the matter... yet their mere presence is significant. The house was deserted, truly deserted for a substantial amount of time... perhaps longer then even I suspected. We need to take a closer look. A library could be as good a place as any for a start..."

Afer was watching the entire scene. Squinting at them the whole time. He was gonna say something till a gesture was made to him and he stops him. As he watches the scavengers leave the home he looks back to the hooded man.

"So what? Bethany is not here then? She ran off?"

as the library was mentioned he would run upstairs and begin searching. He would head to her desk first and start scanning for notes or clues.

"So if she is not here then where is see then? And who are you? Why do you need Bethany? One of the many mages that adore her and want to learn how to cast a fire ball or something?"

continued his search. If nothing was in the desk he would move to her private chambers to search for things. Bad Afer going through a lady's dresser.

- "A rather astute guess." - the man remarked evenly, as the followed Afer closely on their way upstairs. - "Does 'Order of the Lamp' appear familiar to you? No, I would not think so." - he shook his head, even as he began to search trough numerous assorted parchments, charts and scrolls that were occupying literally every vacant corner of the desk. - "My name is not important. But as to why I am here... Suffice it to say that College of Enchanters is concerned about welfare of one of it's colleagues. And as such, they had sent for us."

Picking up several books, only to toss them aside, the hooded man continued. - "I am not at liberty to speak of it in any detail. But... Senior Enchanter Amelle had invoked ire of several figures of power. It is in our mutual interest that I... we locate her before the said party does. And they will." - he finished, with a hint of finality to his words.

All the while Afer was treated to a variety of complex diagrams, schematics and pages of text written in a script he had no way of recognizing. But, one parchment seemed to stood out in particular. Upon closer examination, it appeared to be a torn-out page, containing some sort of genealogical chart. The bottom part of the page was missing, and it was obvious that this transpired many a century ago, perhaps more. But, was the page of any significance or not?

Digging and throwing books, maps and parchments aside, Afer looks up to the figure every few moments as he speaks
"Pfft yeah. 'Order of the Lamp. 'Course I never heard of it. But I keep hearing of these orders of the random objects all the time. When this done I'm starting a ' Order of the Sponges'.

Afer had a very difficult time translating majority of these texts and parchments he would just look to the figure again in frustration just dropping random notes to him.

"Fine fine, mage with no damn name. If you are looking for Bethany as well then where is she hmmm? And let's not call her Amelle. I hate that name and think she didnt like it much either. Just Bethany."

Waving his hand to him

"What is all this blasted text? I don't speak mage yet."

The hooded figure merely walked over, taking the parchments off the warrior. Igniting the nearby candle with a casual, off-handed wave of the gloved hand, he brought the text closer. Removing the cumbersome, thick leather glove, he flicked trough several distorted pages until something finally had caught his sight. Nothing disturbed the silence and concentration of the man, even as he seemed to completely ignore everything and everyone around him, but the writings in his hand. His face, partially illuminated my the flicker of light, remained still, expressionless... detached. Finally, the figure spoke.

- "These documents speak of the Enchantress' inquiry into the field of hereditary traits, lineages, and genealogy. Not what I was hoping to find..." - he brought the parchments closer to the flame, before the dry sheets finally caught flame. The light grew brighter, illuminating further into the despoiled library, as the parchments burnt. The hand, still holding onto the burning pages seemed rugged, weathered... contrasting with the seemingly youthful, if mature, appearance of the hooded man himself. Perhaps a spell, or a terrible sickness had left it's mark upon him? Finally, the flame subsided, and the room sunk back into the sticky darkness disturbed only by a lone candlelight. - "Still, relevant or not, it is unwise to leave such things out in the open, not with the marauders prowling the place, unchecked."

The hooded figure slid the glove back on, unflinchingly, even though the poor state of his hand would more then likely cause an extreme discomfort, if not outright pain. - "I believe we are done here. Whatever indications of the Enchantress' presence we could hope to find are clearly absent. It is... unfortunate, but I would have to report back empty-handed. I would advise you to return back, for there is nothing more to be found in here." - with that, the figure turned sharply on his heels, heading downstairs. Moments later, a blinding flash of lighting had lifted the shroud of darkness from the room, illuminating the lone figure, his cape flattering upon the wind, disappearing into the distance... However, a second figure, much smaller then the hooded man, had appeared by the main entry. A child, if size could be of any indication, shifted uncertainly from foot to foot, as if awaiting something... or rather - someone.

Afer watching the man handle the documents, he would tap his chin as he listens to him speak.

"Alright so documents talking about her birth and her family yeah yeah but does it say where--" He paused as the man held the documents over the flames. "W-Wait! Did you have to burn that? When if she does not have a copy of that? Couldn't you just stuff it under her bed? Wait the bed, what if Bethany is hiding underneath..." He does the predictable and check under the bed in Bethany's room to find nothing.

"Bah she was not there." He was slightly uncomfortable looking at the hooded figured not so pleasant looking hand. He rubbed his own, appreciating his are still decent looking. "Reporting back? I'm not leaving till I find out where Bethany is, and since its some mission of yours to find her then I'm coming with you!"

He would attempt to follow the man up until he disappeared. "Gods dammit..." he sighs and kicks a rock until he sees the small child. "Gods who are you now? Don't tell me you are Bethany's long lost child... wait wait who are you?" He folds his arms and watches the child.