Two Sacramento Knights

"The cigar is fine, but thanks all the same" which was a lie, but he was a guest all the same. Julian listened carefully as John listed both his titles and genealogy. He had questions there, but he left them unspoken at the moment. Colonel of what, or where? But there was one aspect that was off, however. It was minor, but it confirmed his suspicions. An Alder Knight, insofar as he had been taught, remained a Sir. Always a Sir, unless a greater title of nobility was granted. Julian suspected that it was these minor things, in combinations with the displays in Court, that had so rubbed Vivian the wrong way. Minor things, that might still be corrected.

When John spoke of the Southern Lords, Julian shook his head. "Apologies, Sir, but I can't say I'm familiar with these Southern Lords of which you speak. My line is European; our arrival, relatively recent. Beyond Philadelphia, and Sacramento, I can't profess any local knowledge."

The Haunt smiled as John made the cigar disappear, both in relief and in amusement with the overt display. He paused a moment, reaching behind his jacket slowly and unbuckling his sheathed bowie knife - now neither concealed nor obfuscated; showing it to the Daeva before returning it behind his back. "I'm not a master of the art, Sir Davis, but I might be able to show you a few disappearing tricks. With time and a little practise, we can hide what we are; and hide altogether. Of course, I would be honoured to learn how to make use of the gifts of alacrity" the usual lazy smile creeping across his lips as he nodded his thanks to the Daeva. Doubling down had seemed to him the best bet, too. That a gunslinger agreed largely settled the question in his own mind.

"As for a Guild, call me intrigued. I completely agree as to our numbers; we always operated in cells of three underground. There are a few issues with respect to setting one up, I can see, but nothing that can't be worked through. If you have the time this evening, perhaps you might fill me in as to the nature of these threats?"

"It would be a great honor and a pleasure to pass on my knowledge to you sir." Davis was interrupted by his cell phone going off.

"Oh, I do so apologize. This wireless telegraph doohicky is consistently going off these nights. A sign of the dire need for our services to the First Estate." Opening his texts he sees one from Mable.

Rapidly standing, Davis turns to Durand. "Sir Durand, I must again offer my deepest apologies. An emergency situation has arrived. A matter of great import and regarding prestation. I would ask for you to join me on this quest but I shall be moving with the utmost alacrity, speeds at which I have yet to teach you." With a flick of his wrist, a business card pops out from the cuff of Davis's shirt. "My contact specifications. We will have to conduct our conversation at another time. You are owed a trivial boon for the inconvenience of such a brevitous communication, again my apologies."

Without another word, Davis ran from the room, down the gangplank, into the Old Sacramento Underground where his hidden cache of arms and equipment was stashed. Where he could also access the Sacramento sewer network and reach Mable's location without the interference of Kine.

In order to close this scene and maintain continuity, it has been decided that it takes place immediately before Beneath Notice: Finale. Continued here.