We ride tonight, ghost horses.
The slummers of Regalia woke to one loud morning as a considerate number of men began to flock into the streets, stranger faces, though donning visuals familiar to many if not at all. Men who wore long, dark coats that hung all the way down to their shins, the sides of their head shaven clean. The men seemed to be carrying numerous crates around the districts, guarded well enough to keep any thiever from laying their hands upon the boxes. The crates were being moved to one of the finer houses in the newer districts of the Old Town, which seemed to be formed into a residence of sorts, looking rather well maintained in comparison to the rest of the run-down households.
The slummers glanced about to figure out the reason of the commotion, and soon their eyes would settle upon a group of men riding down the street on mares of black coat. The Ardelan family. Their leader Marvolo was the leading party at the very front of the horse-riding group, leading his family towards the residence in mention. The more they approached, the more slummers backed away from their path. Though, one brave man could be heard shouting. "You don't belong in here! F*ck off!" and in the same moments, a pile of dirt was tossed Marvolo's way. All movements suddenly halted as the dirt smacked against the long coat of Marvolo. Some people gasped, some were in support of the sabotage. Marvolo, not losing his calm, with a blank pokerface, swung a leg over the horse and slid down to the floor, glancing towards the saboteur. He gave nothing but a click of his fingers, as the group of Ailor gangsters surrounded the man, and began beating him into a pulp. Marvolo turned around to face the crowd and began to give a speech while screams of terror and slicings of flesh audibly echoed in the street.
"Some of you know us, some of you don't. Those who don't know us, will soon know who we are. Either with pleasantries, or..." Marvolo gave a hand gesture towards the now corpse of a man who laid on the floor with a mutilated face. Iannis and Lysander stepped around Marvolo while sheathing their bloodied daggers, glaring towards the crowd. Iannis stomped in the direction of a slummer, causing him to back off, while Lysander shoved one away with a rough push of his hand. The slummers, those who didn't want any further trouble, began to back off from the area and go back to their businesses, while whispers and rumours were passed around the rest of the crowd. Marvolo placed a cigarette upon his lips and gave it light with the strike of a match.
The Black Mares were back in business.
"Boys, let's paint the town, eh?!"
