Backstreets of Walworth

~3 weeks, 3 days remaining

At the corner of the intersection, a battered light pole stood tall over lines of peeling paint that once demarcated the public crossings. Henry noticed it while he and Robb were lurking nearby. He wasn't quite sure why he picked it out over every other detail lining the streets in that moment, but sometimes odd things just liked to jump out at you. In this case, he paid especially close attention to the small, glassy orb mounted just below the smashed light fixture, and found himself reminiscing on times before the Witching Hours.

Security cameras. Already practically ubiquitous in nearly every public area, with the uncanny tendency to continue to crop up in new places. The debates surrounding them had always gotten rather heated, and the vigilante action against their installation even more so. For the longest time, they were touted as the eyes in the sky that worked tirelessly for the people. Installed to address the safety concerns of thousands every day, without need for rest or patrol routes. After all, if wrongdoers felt that they were always being watched, they'd be much less likely to engage in criminal activity in general.

In theory, at least. Nowadays, there were completely different eyes in the sky to worry about. Not to mention the streets were markedly less safe.

In the distance, a row of vampires perched along the rooftops like a flock of gargoyles. Henry could just about make out their silhouettes, the shadowy figures backlit by the full moon behind them. From this distance, it wasn't really possible for him to get a clearer picture of them. However, if he were to make any misstep now, they would most certainly be able to see him in much clearer detail than he was capable of.

For that reason, moving as a group of 30-odd men and women like they had previously would have been a death sentence. Even the blindest vampire would notice a group that large moving about from kilometers away, provided the right perch to scan from.

Of which, this region had many.

The current landscape seemed practically built with vampires in mind. Elevated positions could see all, while the streets below remained a labyrinth of blocked sightlines and winding passages. Ambush points were around every corner, and bottlenecks were even more frequent. With such favorable terrain present, vampires had flocked to the area in droves and begun to compete with each other almost immediately after they'd taken their first kills. As thrall-camps began to develop, those numbers only continued to swell.

The end result? Any group caught out in the open would find themselves up against a force whose numbers matched their own, plus 50 more. Most survivor groups never stood a chance against even half that number in supernatural creatures.

Which is also exactly why Grace really achieved something special here…

"Remind me again why you picked me for this over Martin?", Robb asked him in a nearly subvocal whisper. "I'm not much of a fighter, you know."

Henry barked out a soft laugh. "If fighters were what this place needed," he countered, "Then the Knights would have made mincemeat of this whole district long ago. Trust me, stealth is the better option here, and Martin is better equipped to organize fortifying the shelter anyway. If you're worried, think of this as… a way to practice the obfuscation spells the Night Domain has to offer."

Robb didn't seem fully convinced, but at least was courteous enough to let the topic drop.

"If you say so…"

After that, their journey slipped back into concentrated silence once more. Through narrow alleys and crushed buildings, they roamed. Always watching the shadows in the far distance, always on the move but never so quickly as to draw attention to themselves. Henry led Robb along a highly meandering path, partly to evade roving patrols of monsters and partly because the location he had in mind was quite remote to begin with. Progress was slow, but incrementally meaningful. And, like he'd suggested earlier, Robb also had a chance to practice casting spells that allowed them to better blend in with the shadows all around them.

Every so often, when they came to a crossing that was heavily surveyed or too out in the open for their liking, he'd get his chance to shine. Somewhat literally, considering the purple glow that his Domain generated while casting, but not nearly as flashy as every other Domain. It was more of a deep indigo than a vibrant purple, blending into the midnight darkness around them. When Robb finished wrapping the cloak of shadows he manifested around them, they would walk calmly through the hostile area at a brisk pace, find the nearest hiding spot to dispel it, and that would be that.

No fuss, no muss. Just pretending that they simply had never even been in the area to begin with.

There hadn't even been a close call yet. Part of Henry wished he'd had Night magic at his disposal sooner, just for the sheer practical advantage it held with navigating hotbeds like this. To him, this felt like a record pace.

But, as sure as his own next steps were at every moment on the journey, those of his companion were simply following along behind. Before long, Robb was once again asking questions.

"So, where are we going, exactly?" He made a short hop over a hole in the floor, following the trail Henry blazed through the second story of an abandoned building. "This direction seems random, at best, and Kensington is roughly… that way…" He pointed in a direction perpendicular to their path of travel, a clear look of confusion marring his face as he tried to piece together the answers.

"Actually, that reminds me," Henry responded. "Please do try to remember all this as best you can. There might come a time where you have to be the one leading others here, and it wouldn't do to get lost."

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"...That doesn't answer my question."

"No, it doesn't. You're right. For now though, the best answer I have for that question is that they have to keep extremely well hidden, and as such require jumping through a bunch of hoops to reach. Heading for Kensington has never exactly been high on their list of priorities."

"So… they really mean to stay here, amid all the vamps, despite the Palatial Remnant being practically a stone's throw away?"

"Precisely that."

Robb gave him a funny look. "You have a way of making some rather strange company, you know that?"

He shrugged back. "Not my fault that we live in an even stranger world."

They reached their destination shortly afterwards. On the other side of that very building, dead in the middle of an alleyway, their journey came to an abrupt stop. Seemingly nothing noteworthy whatsoever about this place, save for maybe the manhole cover at their feet. Robb assumed that it must by why they were here, and gave the handle of the heavy metal disk a tug.

It didn't budge whatsoever. Neither did Henry, though, which made him even more perplexed.

"Is this supposed to be the place? I don't want to assume, but this one seems to be a dead end. Is it possible that we just so happen to be a few blocks away from the correct one?"

"No, this is it, all right," he replied. "It wouldn't be sealed if it wasn't."

He stooped low besides Robb, running a single finger along the rim of the access point until it reached a specific point. Once he did, he began rapping his knuckles against the metal in an odd pattern.

There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it, and by the time Robb began to notice the ridiculously convoluted pattern, ten minutes had already passed. One repetition came after that. Then another. For nearly another 15 minutes longer, he continued to tap away at the covering to seemingly no avail.

Robb's nerves were starting to get to him a long time before that point.

"This can't be right," he mumbled nervously. "Surely, they'd have answered by now, Henry. I- I think we should get going. Something might have happened to them, if they're even here. I mean, it's certainly possible, right? So close to vampire territory, it would make sense if they got found out not too long ago. Maybe we should head back, i-in case this is a trap of some kind."

"Trust the process, Robb," Henry intoned. "Trust the process. Think about it for a minute. What sort of vampire would be observant enough to determine that this specific spot housed a hidden entrance, clever enough to memorize this ridiculous knocking passcode, and most importantly, patient enough to keep at it for minutes on end?"

"Or, counterargument, maybe there's a bit of sunk-cost fallacy at play here?" The former radio host was frantically eyeing around the alleyway, clearly worried that they'd dallied here too long already. "Me for one, I'm a firm believer in the most simplistic outcome being the most likely one. Which, in this case, I think it's safe to say that the most likely answer is that we're wasting our-"

A heavy, scraping sound rumbled through the ground at their feet, and the manhole cover began twisting open like a corkscrew. Fate, it would seem, had a sense of comedic timing.

"What did I say?", Henry beamed triumphantly. "Trust the process."

The cover, much thicker than the topmost face would have indicated, finally unthreaded enough to be slid to the side. From within, a figure in a heavy black wool cloak emerged, complete with thick, round goggles strapped down securely over his eyes and cloth wrappings covering his face. With almost ethereal dexterity, He lifted himself off the ladder below, examining them both closely with an uncomfortable level of scrutiny.

"You," he said to Henry first, "Are known to us. State your business, and that which you bring with you."

Clearing his throat, Henry addressed the cloaked figure in a formal, almost ritualistic cadence.

"I seek an audience with your Mistress. In exchange, I bring information that will prove crucial in the coming months."

"...Very well," was all the hooded man deigned to respond with. In the blink of an eye, he changed focus to Robb. In one powerful stride, he stepped right into his personal space. The cloak swayed around him like it had a mind of its own. His dull, clouded eye lenses seeming to peer directly into his soul as they examined every square inch of Robb's increasingly nervous face.

"You…" said the man, "Are not known to us. As is stated in protocol, this first arrival must be recorded with propriety."

"Ah… um." Robb stammered, unsure of how to respond to the words spoken, unlike Henry. "I'd be, um… happy to… oblige?"

"Good."

A glint of steel flashed in the night. The man raised a finger towards the sky, a small metal band wrapping around the digit and tapering to a sharp point just beyond the end of his fingertip. Like an artificial claw, he grabbed Robb's wrist with his other hand and pricked straight down into the center of his palm.

"Ah- Jesus! A little warning would be nice!! I thought you were going to- hey! What are you doing that for? Quit it!"

Ignoring his protests entirely, the man started to smear the blood leaking from his palm across his hand into the shape of a rough symbol. Like a mobius strip, the linework painted over the back of his hand, connecting seamlessly with the intricate details on the front. Whenever there wasn't enough to paint with, a small, extra nick would be added elsewhere on the hand to coax out a little more blood.

"Gah! The bloody hell is all this about?!", Robb asked incredulously.

"Newcomers are rare among our people," he responded. "This will help the others know to treat you with the proper respect demanded of them by protocol."

"Now listen here-"

"Come," the strange man interrupted. "We should not keep the Mistress waiting for long. There is a test to administer, and time to explain more later."

Without another word, he slipped back into the ladder to the sewers below, leaving Robb standing in stunned silence, looking back at Henry who had simply watched the entire spectacle.

"That wasn't the test?!", Robb asked. "Is this some sort of prank, or cult, or something? Is that why you've been so cagey on just who these people are?"

"Eh, that second one was close enough," Henry responded, hopping down onto ladder after the hooded man. "Make sure to drag the cover into place on the way down. Enrico will take care of the rest."

"Close enough, he says… wait… Enrico?! He has a name?!"

"Well, duh. I thought that much was obvious. Though, now that we're here, I'd advise not running off. You coming, or what?"

Robb struggled to formulate some halfway coherent sentence, but only managed a few exasperated syllables.

"...Next time, I'm getting the full story before you take me somewhere on my own."

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