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Because the structure is actually a derelict vessel listing on its side, all the doorways are set an angles, requiring Alysa to employ her superior dexterity to navigate the corridor. Her guide, who is apparently used to it, deftly makes her way through the hall, which appears to be the first lower deck of the massive ship. There are open doorways to either side, but most of these are either empty, on the right, or, on the left, packed with barrels and casks that emit a strong odor of alcohol.

'Do you know that this ship was once the pride of Caradoc?,' the dark haired, plump woman says as she walks along the walls at some points and over loose plank bridges at others. It is not especially filthy inside the hallway but sand from the beach has made its way inside and forms a kind of damp carpet.

Caradoc, as Alysa knows, is a large port city to the North and the primary location of the shipyards of Viktoron. A great deal of trade comes through Caradoc before being sent up river to Viktoron.

'Legends say that one day she sailed north for Pellinor but got lost in a storm and the tide carried her all the way around the shores of Mystykara and southward towards the Frightlands. When she finally washed up on the beach here in Ganelon, she was missing all hands but all the cargo had remained intact.

'Do you believe in ghosts, my dear?'

"Ghosts?" Alysa asks incredulously, although after the experience she has had, she has seen enough evidence of the supernatural at work to assume that if vampirs are real then why not everything else she has heard tell of over the years.

"I'm not sure what I believe in anymore to be honest Madame, so many strange things have happened to me that seem to defy explanation but ghosts, perhaps. Though with a story like that if any place were to have them, it would be this one" , her fingers are winding the end of her braid again as she deftly moves through the strangely oriented hallway.

"Than again, after what I've seen, who am I to doubt that even ghosts may be true".

Pausing in her elegant, deliberate stride to slowly turn to face Alysa, the round face of the woman is half painted with shadows. Some sunlight does illuminate the corridor through portholes along the starboard side of the ship but it is still dimmer in here than it had been in the taproom.

'There are places where the spirits of the dead linger,' the woman intones ominously. 'Lost souls seeking to find their way back into this world or onward to the next.' Her eyes dart around at the surrounding shadows.

'However, nothing particularly horrible befell the crew of this ship. As it happens, the captain and most of the crew went ashore in Pellinor for a few nights of leisure and those left to stand guard got bored with their duties and also snuck off. There was, indeed, a storm one evening and the mooring line broke and the anchor had not been properly secured so the ship sailed away of its own accord.'

She smiles. 'I take that back. Something horrible did befall the captain and crew when they got back to Caradoc to tell the shipping company for whom they worked that they had lost several thousand crown worth of the finest wines and spirits. Also, truth be told, the ship had not gone all the way 'round the realm unmolested as, when it finally appeared here in Ganelon, it was significantly lighter in cargo. Some blamed pirates but I happen to think that the Mystykarans knew an opportunity for free liquor when they saw one.' The woman punctuates her story with a throaty chuckle as she proceeds.

'They are a merry folk and not so mysterious as people would claim. Besides, most of the people are Mystykara are as mortal as you or I. This notion that everyone there is fairy touched is just propaganda set forth by the Cardinals. We wouldn't to encourage the people to live in a free and open society when there are laws and order to uphold.'

By the time, they have passed a number of what look to be storerooms, some full, most empty and even a few bunks that are in disrepair before the woman turns left at an intersection and enters a large room. This would have likely been the sailors' berths if Alysa knows anything about ships. However, it is has been cleared of any bunks and, instead, transformed into a rather lavish boudoir.

On the walls, blue and violet sashes are hung to conceal some of the aging wooden walls. There is a set of bookshelves on the right hand side and, in the center, a wide circular table, atop which is a large glass orb. Additionally, what looks to be a golden framed sedan chair in along the left hand wall and there are a number of mismatched chairs scattered about.

Walking around to the far side of the table, standing there silhouetted in the glow of the portholes that sit just above ground level, the woman extends her arms slightly, her sash still wound around her shoulders and arms, and gives Alysa a graceful, if not theatrical, bow.

'Good day to you. I am Madame Archelle. My eyes can see that which is hidden, lost or unseen and I keep counsel with those who have departed that they may guide the living.'

Alysa can't help but wonder why Robur told her to come here, though that's been a thought she's had since the moment she stepped through the door. She puts on a brave smile, carefully calculating just how many ways this could go wrong before stepping forward, her eyes still darting around the room instinctively. "I am Alysa Damora, Perhaps you might be able to help me".

The blonde woman is more than familiar with psychics and those who claim to contact the dead on behalf of the living, though she's usually given them a wide berth out of her own doubts. Though she must consider the fact that this woman may know something that she does not and that would perhaps be useful to her in some way.

Gesturing towards one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table, Madame Archelle nods. 'Yes, I think so. You're here to know what your future holds.'

She smiles enigmatically and sits down in her chair, which is considerably grander than the others, upholstered in crushed purple velvet.

'Our mutual acquiantance is occupied at the moment but he and his companions shall return by this evening. I have the considerable honor of knowing him, though I'll never speak a word against him to those who would use my words to entrap him. I owe him too much for that.'

Alysa nods as she slides into the empty chair, finally dropping her fingers from her hair. "Well I assure you I've no reason to trap him, in fact it's only because of him that I am alive to have the pleasure of your time. But you speak of the future and what it might hold and I must admit that I am curious to hear what you have to say, especially considering the current state of affairs I find myself in".

Nodding once more, Madame Archelle reaches for a small wooden box in front of her. It had been concealed from Alysa's view by the glass sphere but now she can see it as the woman withdraw a deck of cards. She begins to expertly shuffle them in her hands, the multiple rings on her fingers glimmering in the dull light.

'The future is always changing. There are predestined paths of possibilities but which each person shall take is never known. All I can do is call upon the spirits to reveal those potential roads that can be followed and where they may lead.'

She begins to lay the cards out, face down, in an odd manner on the table in front of her. 'Tell me, Mistress Damora, why are you here?'

"Why? Well if I am forced to concede to one deciding factor I would have to say that I am here because I am curious and much like a cat, I am very much compelled to assuage that curiosity by any means necessary" she says as she gazes across the table.

"Though my presence here is somewhat to do with the sheer boredom of the prospect of staying where I was, I cannot abide routines and order and when our mutual acquaintance presented such a mysterious invitation I could not help but follow it merely for the adventure of it all"

Absently completing the cruciform pattern of cards, Madame Archelle begins to flip them over, one by one.

'Curiosity can be a dangerous quality. I'm sure you've heard about the anecdotal effect it has on cats.' Her dark eyes glitter as they glance suspiciously up at Alysa.

'So you are here out of mere boredom and nothing more? You have not any purpose or designs that drive you?' She shakes her head, her long silky black hair reminiscent of that of Mira but much less well tended. 'Why are all the pretty ones so boring?'

"Well if you wish to know what drives me that is another matter entirely. Revenge is my primary plan Madame Archelle and the means by which I achieve that goal are secondary but they I am sure still play a part in whatever it is I shall encounter" she grins wickedly across the table at the woman blue eyes sparkling with the very thought of it.

She is curious as to what the woman saw that caused such a curious reaction, but perhaps she merely knew the truth of Alysa's presence here. It was not her curiosity that Robur had piqued with his strange appearance and even more curious invitation but that craving for revenge and that burning desire in her heart to end Mira's existence."But the look on your face implies you knew that already".

Smiling thinly, Madame Archelle continues to gaze down at her cards.

'The Captain is a man wanted by many,' she says somewhat suggestively, 'but by none so much as the law. A dubious reputation has he and he is very careful to ensure that his acquaintances are never made in earnest. After all, anyone could ask after him in the hopes that he might make his presence known so that they could apprehend him or entrap him. I don't mean to sound accusatory but it is the kind of world in which we live.

'Do you, Alysa Damora, intend any ill will towards the Captain or those you know to be his confederates?'

She fixes her gaze upon Alysa from across the table, one of the cards now wedged between her fingers as she taps it upon the table.

Alysa's deep blue eyes find the woman's across the table and a smile spreads across her face. "What kind of woman do you take me for Madame Archelle? Why would I harbor any ill will towards the man who saved my life and those he keeps company with?"

She pauses for a moment and is suddenly all business, the cold edge back in her voice for the first time in many weeks. "The revenge I seek is not against the Captain, you have no need to fear that. Though I am of the impression that he will be crucial to obtaining it. Therefore to answer you plainly, no I do not".

Madame Archelle lets her eyes fall down to Alysa's bleeding breast.

'Magda should be here shortly to tend to that,' she says quietly. 'I can imagine it must hurt. I should apologize for my associates. They can be most zealous in their desire to see to my welfare and they don't have much respect for the law or those that uphold it.'

She nods at Alysa. 'You wear the robes of a shrine maiden so they must have naturally assumed you were lost.' Her fingers flip the card in her hand over so that the woman can look up its face, which she does with a faint smile. 'They are savvy but simple folk. If it looks like a gull and flies like a gull, they shall still call it a gull as that is all they know.

'The cards tell me that you speak the truth but they do mention that the truth for someone like yourself changes depending on your perspective. You're not attempting to deceive me at the moment but you're certainly not trustworthy.'

The woman winks. 'You'll fit right in.'

Behind Alysa, there are light footsteps upon the wooden floors and a thin, blonde woman with wild, tangled hair and a haunted expression upon her face enters. She is dressed in far less splendor than Madame Archelle and her skin is rather tan, as if she spends much time outdoors in the sun.

'Ah, Magda,' Madame Archelle says. 'Our young knave Chase has made a fool of himself and wounded an acquaintance of the Captain.' She gestures towards Alysa. 'Do you have anything that might help her?'

Magda nods numbly. Around her waist is a belt from which hang a number of bottles and vials of various sizes and materials. She shuffles over to look down at Alysa and then yanks open Alysa's robe, exposing the rather revealing smock worn beneath.

Raising a hand and nodding at Alysa, Madame Archelle says, 'It's all right. Magda spent most of her childhood in the wilderness, being raised by her mother, may her soul rest. She knows many things about natural medicines and magic but her manners are somewhat lacking.'

Immediately pulling away, Magda bows her head. 'Sorry,' she murmurs. Though she appears some years older than Alysa, Magda's mannerisms are almost childlike.

Alysa can't help but laugh at the woman's words, "I find it gets very boring when one must tell the truth all the time and therefore only do so when necessary. Although it does tend to make things interesting". The rogue allows the other woman to tend to her wound, still eyeing Madame Archelle across the table.

"So your cards told you I wasn't lying? Have they ever proven wrong?" she asks curiously, wondering just how much those cards would be able to tell about someone. She isn't sure how deep the wound is, strangely she doesn't feel much pain from it, just a faint ache. But such are the fun things in her life, they either hurt, scar or endanger her and she thrives on the adventure.

'The cards, my dear,' Madame Archelle replies archly, 'tell me nothing. It's you who have revealed your thoughts to me.'

The boy's knife had cut rather deep and the wound has continued to bleed but Alysa has endured worse of late.

'Do let Magda take a look at it, however,' the woman on the opposite side of the table says. 'She's not blessed with the touch of hallowed healing but she can brew any number of wonders in that cauldron of hers.'

Tentatively, Magda pulls down the short sleeve of the smock under Alysa's robes and exposes her left breast. The gash looks much more serious than Alysa might have suspected but she has suffered such wounds before.

Muttering under her breath, the woman with the messy hair and a faint musty odor of various herbs reaches for one of her vials and pours what looks to be a clear, syrupy fluid across the wound. At once, there is a hissing sound as faint plumes of mist rise up in Alysa's face and she shall feel an intense burning sensation where the boy has cut her.

Alysa winces at the burning feeling but it is nowhere as painful as the feeling of Mira's fangs and the burning cold that spread through her so she is content to bear it. "I've had worse wounds than this, though most I cannot remember, so I shall trust your judgment and allow her to work her magic" she laughs "I'm no stranger to knives and the damage they can inflict. You would-be protectors do their job quite well though".

'The boy has had a very harsh life,' Madame Archelle says as the painful sensation in Alysa's chest subsides. The flesh is knitted back together without any sign of injury aside from a slight redness. Magda smiles and pats the formerly wounded woman's breast before sliding the now empty vial back into her belt. By chance rather than design, Magda's hair is wound into thick, shaggy locks that face around her head. Up close, Alysa can see a kind of wildness or madness in the woman's eyes.

'Thank you, Magda,' Madame Archelle says. 'That is all I needed. How goes the project?'

'Athan is working hard,' Magda replies, blushing faintly and smiling coyly.

'Then perhaps we shall be leaving soon,' Madame Archelle answers.

Magda pulls Alysa's smock back up and pats the bandit woman on the shoulder before scurrying out in the same strange manner as she entered.

'Of all of us,' Madame Archelle comments without explanation, 'she likely was the one who most needed it. Not that it helped with the good doctor in charge.'

There is a note of bitterness in her voice.

She is puzzled by the woman's words, but nods simply. She is rather amazed at how quickly the wound has healed and makes a note to stay on this woman's good side if only for that benefit. "Needed what?" she asks before remembering her manners and blushing deeply "forgive me that was out of line, if you'd meant me to know I'm sure you'd have said something".

Her right hand darts up and begins absently twisting and tugging on her hair once again. It has been so long since she wore it this way for any period of time and it is hard to kill the habit of toying with it when she is nervous or occasionally even bored.

Raising her eyebrow, Madame Archelle seems slightly offended but Alysa also senses that the woman is of the sort whom enjoys being asked questions so that she has an audience to which to share her stories.

'Treatment, my good woman,' she replies. 'Magda and I met when we were both guests at the Abbey Park Sanitarium in Viktoron. After her mother had perished, she was left to her own devices, the poor girl, and ended up being captured by Stalkers for the crime of vagrancy. When it was determined that she was unfit for reeducation, they had her committed, just as my parents had me committed for being an embarassment to the family name.'

She smiles humorlessly. 'That's where he found some of us, including his dear Krystyna. We were all guests of a sort under the care of Dr. Wardsea.'

This time Alysa doesn't have to ask who he woman was talking about. She was familiar with Abbey Park at least by reputation and had several times been glad she had managed to escape the fate of being committed there. She cannot however stop herself from wondering if this doctor was anything like Jothan and decided that if he was then Captain Brawne must make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress.

"I see" she says almost absently "I've heard of strange things happening there, but surely that's all just rumors cooked up by the lawgivers to keep people away from there".

'You've heard of Abbey Park? You must have spent time in a madhouse yourself then. It's hardly as well known as Beldamor or Wakewood. Those are places with a reputation. Abbey Park prides itself on being virtually unknown. It's where prominent families put away their unsavory heirs and discretion is the watchword. That's why it's all the way in Exess, well out of the city. We wouldn't wish it to be known that the noble blood could produce such unfortunate souls.'

Madame Archelle has collected the cards from the table and is idly shuffling her deck as she speaks.

'However, it was no different from other institutions, I'm told, until all that business with the old abbey and the Westons. All of that happened not more than a stone's throw from our windows. As I don't believe in coincidence, it could not all have been by chance.'

"Madhouse no...but I spent more than enough time in reeducation as a child. You learn a thing or two about well kept secrets when the lawgivers decide you'd be a better stalker than a thief. Thank the gods that didn't work, I can't imagine how boring my life would be!" She can't help but laugh at the thought, brushing her fingers through the strands of her braid once again. "Though I don't think I know the events of which you speak".

Alysa shifts in her chair, finally managing to extract her fingers from her hair and pressing them together as she listens intently to Madame Archelle. It seems the young rogue is in for a bit of a history lesson and for some reason her instincts tell her the information she is about to learn will be beneficial to her.

'A story for another time, perhaps,' Madame Archelle smiles. 'Besides, the lawgivers investigated the matter and declared their own explanations for what happened and who am I to disagree with them?'

She gives a noncommital shrug of her shoulders. 'I prefer not to think about what happened there. It's in the past now and it's always best to leave the past behind you. It resides in your memories, whether you like it or not, and I don't need to ruminate on it to remember what happened.'

Setting her cards aside, Madame Archelle stares at Alysa intently. 'So what, Mistress Damora, is your story?'

Alysa feigns surprise at the woman's question. "You mean to tell me our mutual acquaintance has kept quiet about his escapades? Well then perhaps I shall have to enlighten you as to just how I ended up here. Though if my instincts about the man read true, he's continued his crusade to save damsels in distress, even if he did threaten to put a bullet in me first!"

It is then that Alysa begins to recount her experiences at Redclyffe, omitting certain details of her time there, but laying out the general idea for her companion. She has told this story over and over again, having been asked many times by Moldon and various others to recount what she remembered so that they could investigate if necessary, but somehow every time feels like the first time and she falls into silence she can't help but shudder. "But as you say, the past is best left there and I intend to look only to the future.".

'So you were kept as the personal pet of a couple of depraved nobles,' Madame Archelle summarizes. 'Not quite you had been expecting when you accepted their invitation but that is not surprising. All manners of perversion and debauchery transpire behind closed doors. There are rumors of some of the activities involving members of the royal family and those are always silenced, even if a few of them may be true.

'The Captain did not even mention you, Mistress Damora. If I did not know his handwriting and had not confirmed your story with use of my own methods, then I would think you some lost cantor who had naively come here seeking to save transgressors and return them to the lawful path. I can tell there is more to your story that you've yet to reveal, possibly for fear of sounding deranged. I should tell you that I, as a medium, have, on occasion, been in contact with such beings as gone unseen by mortal eyes. The dead are all around us.'

Now her voice lowers to a deep whisper. 'Tell me more of this place. I believe I may know now why our mutual acquaintance sought you out and gave you this invitation.'

Alysa shrugs as she pauses for a moment, after all if anyone was going to believe what had happened to her it was this woman. She takes a deep breath, preparing to make an admission that even weeks later chilled her to the bone more surely than Mira's bite.

"Vampirs" she whispered, her wide blue eyes pleading with Madame Archelle to believe her. "The ones who held me were vampirs, when Captain Brawne found me I was drained almost to the point of death, in fact everyone has told me if he did not arrive when he did I would surely have died in that place. They, well the female anyway wished to make me one of them, she fed me her blood mixed in wine and other horrid things that you couldn't begin to imagine". Her fingers are knotted in her hair once again and her face has turned slightly pale at her own confession, perhaps she is not as put together as she may seem.

The color does not entirely drain from Madame Archelle's face but her expression becomes much more somber and the pinkish blush of her cheeks fades.

'Now it becomes clear,' she intones gravely, though it is difficult to tell if she is being serious or dramatic. 'It is not by happenstance that our mutual acquaintance wishes to speak with you. You may have information he wants; information that we all want. You see, I know that these things of which you speak are dismissed by most as mere myths.'

Furrowing her brow, Madame Archelle blinks and turns over the top card of the deck. 'Mira Marlowe, the lost daughter of Lord Malkom. So, it was her.'

"How did you know?" Alysa almost gasps, her fingers falling from her hair at the sound of her tormentor's name spoken in the air between them. With the psychic's words it seems that she is as useful to Brawne as he is to her, especially if she can find a way to barter the information she carries for the things that she wants and needs to carry out her plans. Unconsciously her jaw tenses and her instincts flare to life, the very name of the one who poisoned her enough to send her into defensive mode.

'It was in the cards,' Madame Archelle replies, smiling despite the sudden gloom that seems to hang in the room. 'Or more specifically, in your mind. A little trick of mine. Lawgivers and oathkeepers aren't the only ones who can peek inside that pretty head of yours. Though now I know exactly why you're here and why he made an effort to invite you. I would imagine if you had not taken the invitation, he might have resorted to abduction.'

Her grim smile widens. 'I don't suppose the lawgivers would have told you the old stories since they refuse to believe them themselves and, as they are bound to do their best to speak the truth, they rarely spread rumors or conjecture.'

Leaning back in her chair, Madame Archelle turns towards what looks to be a thick cord hanging down from the curtains surrounding a large porthole and yanks on it. 'I think we may be needing tea or even something stronger if you wish to discuss this further.'

"Well for once my curiosity has paid off, I cannot imagine it would have ended well for him had he attempted it" she says, "after all a person can only be kept prisoner a certain amount of times before they become hostile and I would hate to do something I may regret".

She leans back in her chair and eyes the woman across the table, "I suppose we might. I am nowhere near as experienced in these matters as it seems you are and I would love to finally have an explanation that doesn't involve this being some matter of the greater order of things and a punishment for my previous crimes".

It is the brunette barmaid who answers the summons. She does her best to stand directly behind Alysa so that the blonde woman cannot turn around to look at her.

'Tawni,' Madame Archelle says, addressing the barmaid. 'I was expecting Rollo or even Chase.'

Tawni pauses before answering. 'Neither of them or Goldie or Ruby wanted to come back. They're afraid you're still mad at them and you'll turn them into lizards.' And, by the nervous titter in her voice, it seems that Tawni is of a similar mind.

'Indeed,' Madame Archelle replies darkly, 'and well I should for assaulting an invited guest of the Captain! However, I'll let him deal with you lot. Now, we shall be needing refreshments. A pot of black tea, a magnum of wine and some biscuits, if you please.'

She glances at Alysa. 'Is there anything else that you'd fancy, Mistress Damora?'

Alysa shakes her head, she recognizes the woman's voice behind her and thinks it would be better if she didn't turn around. Although it is hard for her to conceal a smirk when the woman mentions lizards. She doubts that Archelle could really do such things, but who knows for sure, after all there are many things that she has learned the past few weeks that do not make sense to her. "I think that should be sufficient" is all she says for she is more interested in an explanation than anything else. "After all it seems we've much to discuss".