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The young lady smiled, leaning somewhat against the doctor's side. The masked man himself nodded at Julius' approach and offered, "My lord, twas merely chance or providence that brought this tonight." The imperial woman sighed, still somewhat tired from all of the dancing Salih made her keep up with, but she still said, "I've been wondering that myself, mylord. What a mysterious dancer!" She drew away from him to stand on her own feet for the moment, perhaps feeling impolite for languishing there so long after they were done.

Doctor Salih tilted his head at the lord. "This is no humble audience, however. I see a bounty of colorful souls all around us, of class I do not encounter often. Your party is quite tasteful." His voice was laced with an accent befitting his mask but it was clear, fluent in the local language and deep.

Romulus frowned at Ludvig; the man wouldn't have recognized him, there was quite literally no way. There was no identification of what Jester looked like, every account was different. Still, he turned himself a way a bit, "I'm sorry, I'm not here to socialize. I am here as a favor to my family and nothing more." He could create stories on a whim.

Julius laughed, "Well this certainly isn't normal for my parties, Usually they are quite less crowded...but with this damned Jester around, I have to at least seem like I care for the rabble of this town." His expression turned sour, "That man...he'll hang for these crimes, I promise you that. I can't wait to see that noose around the scoundrels neck." He took Salih for a noble man as well, he thought it safe to complain around him for these things.

Romulus was watching them now, finishing up his glass of wine. It was almost time. The young man stood off the wall, a beautiful woman catching his eyes as she walked out to the balcony. He smiled politely to Ludvig, "If you'll excuse me..." And gave a short bow before walking out after her, calling to her in Italian.

"I'll be careful."

The Hanged Man grabbed Atoli's hand firmly, though not so firmly that it would cause undue pain, and pulled her into the dance. For how forward his request had been, he moved listlessly, unlike the sprightly Salih and his partner. Despite his limp, he was not without grace--Atoli needn't fear for her talons. And, as they seemed to earlier, his hands did quaver very slightly.

Up close, the man looked very tired, but not for want of sleep. The black domino mask hid his ugly scar but did little to cover the shadows under his hollow eyes. He barely made eye contact with Atoli, instead choosing to gaze off at his own eye level, far above her head. He was still watching the room--namely Salih and Julius, who were very closeby. A couple of people watched them in turn, for they were an odd pairing, and the Hanged Man was not known to dance unless he had had too much to drink. Rudely, he didn't introduce himself.

“But I can’t da—“ She was cut off as she was tugged forward, tensing as the pressure on her hand tightened.

Much to her surprise he actually began dancing with her! Atoli’s narrow shoulders slackened a little in relief and stared down at the knight's feet in concentration. The young thief had never danced before, which was probably apparent by now. Atoli looked to his hands now as they shook oddly in her own and craned her head back up to look at his face.

Beneath her hawk mask her bright green eyes were as wide and inquisitive as a small owl's. What a weary soul he seemed to her, it brought to mind the tales she had heard of warriors coming back from the dead to seek vengeance…or was it salvation? She didn't remember.

Atoli did not mind the silence from the knight. Instead she pondered what he would gain from this impromptu dance. She glanced around once to try to spot what he was focused on... Ah! The Lord Julius was close by, that was one pocket she would not pick tonight. The mysterious metal masked man stood by the lord in conversation, with a woman that nearly clung to his side.

She looked back to her dancing partner and said in a confidential tone, "Interesting faces, hmm? A raven among swans, that one." She nodded her head briefly towards Salih and gave the knight a slight smile, briefly showing her sharp canines to him.

Salih lifted his head, listening to the lord speak patiently only to bow it again near his dancing partner. She perked up visibly but withdrew from him, bowing to Julius and then him before departing. "Apologies, mylord I must go for the moment. We surely must speak soon! God watch over you!" Salih nodded at her and then looked back at Julius. "The criminal that faces you would do well to repent, for once earthly justice is done unto him he will face his judgment by the Almighty. "

"Surely as a learned man you too are familiar with the bible. I am not here to lecture you on the lesser sins behind a party-- as you can tell, I myself am not without sin, hm?-- but I feel I should speak on this. If this day goes with God on your side then understand that it is because of this selflessness to your flock. And, if you would, please remember... it has not been long since he has loosed a plague upon his unruly children."

Julius and his wife stared at Salih, like the man was processing what he was saying. It was visible in the way his back straightened and his lips tightened: he was angry, no doubt, "Sir, that almost sounded like a threat. Do not tell me how to--"

It had taken a few moments for anyone to give away what was about to happen. The Jester had made it into the crowd by then, before there was a shrill scream, and Julius turned his head just in time to see the flash of red and black coming his way. The guards flocked to the floor, but it was far too late with the distance he was to Julius and his wife, "Time's up, Julius!" The rumors had not done the man justice; despite his slightly humorous outfit and hat, there was nothing funny in the way the man moved, his steps light and fluid as he weaved between panicked guests to get to the Lord.

The first thing the man did was push his wife back behind him, and then attempt to get his sword. But the crowd tonight would witness firsthand the speed of this elusive assassin; Jester swung around, and with one swift motion he had sliced the throat of the lord, and disappeared right back into the crowd. The ballroom was plunged into chaos in seconds, the revelers all rushing for the door as the assassin made way for the balconies, "Have a lovely night, bellas~" He cooed; The cocky young man had the audacity to give a bow before a guard fired his crossbow at him; It hit the assassin in the side, and his leg on that side faltered, sending him falling from the balcony and plummeting into the chilly waters of the river below.

Julius' wife clutched his body, having sunk down onto the floor crying; guards had already moved their children, but The Jester normally didn't leave the wives alive either. There was a reason she was alive, though it was one none would dare accuse the woman of. It explained the way that, while she sobbed over the body of her lover, she had remained silent when she saw the young man first enter the crowd; the lady was observant, but she knew what had to be done.

In the river below, the hat of The Jester floated to the surface, it's waterlogged fabric bobbing up and down in the light motion of the water.

The doctor hadn't even flinched when the commotion began, or as the revelers started to flee. He took a few steps back and watched the spectacle, realizing fully that rumors might implicate him but not seeming to care. As Julius sank to the ground Salih moved close again, checking on the lord while he lay dying. Did the jester cut off his are, or did he manage to damage the spinal cord as well? Outwardly it simply looked as though he were placing his hand to stifle the throat wound, as a regular doctor might. He knew that, either way, the damage was beyond healing. He also knew that even if he could fix it he had no desire to; that display was too priceless for him to ruin.

If Julius' wive or the guards pulled him away from the man's body the doctor wouldn't struggle, simply muttering prayers; firstly Christian, then some of another kind, both praying to God for the lord's afterlife to be merciful.

It seemed like the clean wound had cut into his trachea, but judging on the amount of blood on him and the floor, he had hit a major vein, the man was dead within seconds of hitting the ground. The Jester wasn't one likely to drag out pain, save for the lord he had cornered at a horse race and stabbed in the kidneys. That was an agonizing wound, but it was for a very specially horrid man.

No one attempted to separate him from Lord Julius, the guards were attempting to move his wife, who stayed down on the ground and held her husband's body.

The Hanged Man continued to dance, though he did not appear to be enjoying it, nor did he seem terribly interested in the birdlike woman whose hands he held.

"You are no swan," he replied. His voice was rough, as if seldom used, but rather high of pitch. It was accented thickly with the tongue of some unknown land and carried a faint stutter that did not befit his grizzled countenance. "N-nor am I. I am a crow, and you ..." He looked down at her now. "... you are a magpie." His gaze was just as dispassionate, and he did not interrupt their awkward dance.

He returned his eyes to Julius and the crowd, but he did speak once more to Atoli: "No more, you understand--"

A scream cut him off. He released Atoli to draw his falchion, but it was difficult to track the assassin in the chaos. "After him!" he roared as he waded through the crowd towards Salih and Julius' wife. "Benson, Carlin, see that the children are safe!"

Crow watched them mobilize before looking down at Julius. His eyes were just as hollow as the dead man's. He pulled his shield from his back and slid his left arm into the enarmes, covering the lady. "Lady, we must get you to safety."

Ludvig walked over to Lord Julius, he kneeled and quietly payed his respects. "A horrible death, For such a noble lord" whispered Ludvig. He stood up, nodding to the Lady.

Ludvig then disappeared, returning to his Alchemy Lab. "Call me if you need me!" He called over his shoulder to anyone who could hear.

The harpy’s smile faded and was soon replaced with a sneer at the knight’s comment. Her upper lip curled on one side to further expose her rather sharp teeth and fangs to him. Atoli glared up at him as their eyes met. “I am no magpie…” She hissed, trying to keep her voice low.

Her steps faltered as she tried to keep her cool, intimidated by this odd man who towered over her. She was about to tear her hands away from his when a scream interrupted her, and ducked away quickly as soon as she saw his hand go for his weapon. Atoli was immediately overcome by the panicked crowd and was shoved about as she sought higher ground. She looked up at the Jester on the balcony in time to see a crossbow bolt thud into his side.

The harpy wasted little time in opening her wings fully now to fly onto a similar balcony the Jester was on in order to escape the pressing crowd. She landed and crouched low, not wanting to be shot at in a similar fashion as the assassin… and peeked out at the chaos that ensued below. Not surprised that she found the Crow Knight standing over the slain lord and his wife, a pool of crimson blooming across the marbled floors. Atoli wrinkled her nose at them before turning to see where the Jester might have fallen and saw only the hat in the water.

“What a sloppy performance…” She muttered now to herself. She checked her hidden pockets and sighed, wondering if her spoils made going to this event worthwhile; the dress she got was difficult to find and steal as well, and it was annoying to fly in to boot!

The lords wife looked up to Crow, tears in her eyes, "Will you find him? That Jester...? He was hit by one of your men, he cant be far..."

Further down the river, along the bank, a man was dragging himself from the water, wearing nothing but braies and holding his hand over his side. But this mans hair was grey, his eyed a very pale blue, his skin noticably paler than that of the killer who had fallen into the water. Yet he had the same wound, and was dragging himself out of the same river.

The man rushed up the rocky bank, stumbling into the brush and trees beyond it.

The doctor withdrew his hand from the lord's bloody neck after a few seconds of holding, staring at the blood quietly. It caked the front of his hand a bright red that contrasted the black and gray of his clothing strongly. Then the man looked up at the Hanged Man and listened to his exchange with the lord's wife. It was true that Salih only knew as far as anyone else but it seemed that his predictions were on point so far. Still, he didn't give away anything else, certain that those seeking the assassin would trust on more reliable means of tracking.

He turned his head to stare back at the lord's wife, calculating. Then he reached with the hand he hadn't yet bloodied and drew his fingers down over Julius' eyelids, to close them.

Atoli folded her feathered arms in front of her as she watched the hat gently float down the river. The jester surely would be close by especially if he was injured… “I wonder how much his head is worth?-" She mused, "-More than the trinkets I’ve collected for sure, no wonder there were so many guards around...”

Her brows furrowed for a moment recalling what the Crow had said to her, and exclaimed outloud,“Pah! Magpie, huh?” And promptly tore her mask off and the bottom of her dress; exposing the knee-high pantaloons she had underneath… Not that she needed to wear them since she was covered in feathers. But she had opted to wearing them anyway mostly for her own amusement.

Atoli leapt off the balcony after the hat and swooped down low to snatch it out of the water with her talons as if it were a fish. She circled back to land on the balcony once more, and after ringing the soggy thing out, she peeked back inside the ball room to where she last saw the Crow. “HA! What a sorry sell-sword you are. Can’t even protect your charge during a dance?” She called out loudly to him, and shook the item above her head tauntingly so that the bells on the ends of the jester’s hat rang and jingled wildly. “—Maybe I’ll find him first and claim the spoils? After all; Muh-muh-muh-Magpie’s don’t like to share, do they?” She jeered down at him and his group, briefly looking over Salih and the dead lord before turning away to look for the jester on her own.

Romulus couldn't hold his spell with such a painful injury; he would need to find someplace to hide for the night, which would prove a difficult task when you were practically naked, soaking wet and oh yes, had just murdered the lord of the region. Not that anyone would recognize him; his spell helped mask his true identity, enough that, if he were able to find new clothes and bandage his side, he would be able to escape from the city. His true identity was one not seen often, one he could rely on to get him by; his grey hair and pale eyes made him look almost dead, and not very friendly either. His spell was only used for work, so he could still visit markets without being hated by most everyone there.

Of course, such powerful magic had come at a price; he had made the deal with a siren when he was young, the creature taking the form of a woman who lived in the deepest parts of the oceans where the darkness practically absorbed all color. He traded his once vibrant green eyes and orange hair for her dull colors, and in return she granted him this one bit of magic, the only magic he knew: to alter his appearance how he saw fit for extended periods of time. The rest, his agility and skills with knives, that was all learned through years of harsh practice.

Julius's wife glared hard at the harpy, tears in her eyes still. The blood had, by now, soaked her dress as well, but she had yet to let go of her fallen husband. But when Salih reached down and closed his eyes, she looked up to him, "Thank you, doctor." She looked back to Julius; she hadn't had the stomach to shut his eyes, knowing they would never open again.

(Sorry for the wait, all, I haven't been in a good place. This post isnt great, hahahaaa)

The Hanged Man paid no attention to Atoli as she flew away--his focus was honed on the lady of the house. Other guards were mobilizing throughout the castle grounds, swarming the walls and deploying into the city in pursuit of the jester. "Do not r-rest until he has been found," called the Crow. "I do not care that he was injured--he has many-a trick up his bloody sleeves!"

His expression did not soften when he looked back to the lady, but he did lower his voice back to its usual monotone. "We will do our best to bring him to justice, my lady." But he made no promises--he rarely did these days.

His eyes fell on Julius' face, and it changed--for a moment it was younger, a boy with brown hair, vines wriggling through the flesh of his throat. Help me, commander, the boy whispered. The Hanged Man grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut as if physically hurt by this vision. If anyone else was looking at Julius' face, they would see no change.

Thankfully the harpy was there to distract him. He looked up at her, his demeanor back to flat and steely. "G-give back the hat and go in peace," he said, ignoring her insult. "Pursue the villain if you wish--I care not. But give it back, or your face will be on b-bounty posters from here to the Danish mark."

(No problem! I hope things get better for you)

Atoli turned to look back down at The Hanged Man. She looked surprised but unperturbed by the threat of a bounty on her. “You’re going to put a bounty on me...for keeping hat?” Atoli raised her eyebrows quizzically at the Knight before dangling it from one of her clawed fingers. “200 gold pieces and its yours, Crow. I doubt you have the coin, but I’m sure the Misses can cough that up without too much trouble…”

The young harpy couldn't resist the chance at some bonus cash, however cruel it may be to steal from a wife when her husband lay dead in her arms. She doubted that the new widow would have a hard life even with her husband gone; She had enough money, and there would likely be another noble-born to take his place to claim the title of 'Lord'.

Her gaze slid to Julius’s wife now, the sneer gone from her face. “It’s not like I was the one who killed him, I’m just trying to make a living as I know how.” She shrugged her shoulders as if she were apologizing, but her eyes scanned around the room to make sure no weapons were trained on her. The longer she stayed the more impatient she became to be away from this place. The window of time that she had to find the Jester first would close if she waited much longer. Atoli briefly stared at the masked doctor for a moment, his presence in the room seemed odd to her. She hadn't seen him take any real action to help the lord nor did he seek self preservation and flee with the crowd.

Salih dipped his head into a smooth nod, moving to rise from the floor and walk around Julius and his wife; he headed towards the balconies Atoli hovered outside. He didn't seem intent on doing anything to the harpy, clasping his hand behind his back. Not wanting to provoke the harpy into reckless action he walked out onto one a bit further away from her, simply to peer out over the water.

"Hindering the capture of a renowned criminal," the lady began, "Is certainly a punishable offence. Treason...no. Make the posters say 'Assistant to Assassination'." Very gently, she laid her husbands head down, standing and looking at the blood on her hands sadly, before looking to Crow again, "I hope you will deliver the news of her bounty to not only this region but all. Tie this selfish harpy directly to Jester...but I want her captured alive."

Romulus had made his way into the city by now, slinking through back streets. He knew he had to avoid the guard until he could get some new clothes, but there was only so much he could do. Most of the city knew of what he had done as the Jester, they would be unlikely to help an injured stranger now.

((Yeah, its cool dude. Go ahead and take time for yourself, there's no issue with that ))

When Atoli spoke her demand, the Hanged Man waved it off dismissively. "Shoot her," he said to two of the artillery guards. As they loaded bolts into the fullers of their crossbows, Crow turned away. "And be sure to c-commit her face to memory."

He offered a gauntleted hand to the widow to help her to her feet. "I will see it done, lady. Come--the j-jester oft slays the wives of his marks as well ... we must get you to safety." Attention then fell to Salih. "My lord," he called. "Perhaps you should seek safety as well."

Meanwhile, the two crossbowmen were taking aim.