The Blackest Night

[The Blackguard]

It was a simple enough order: take whatever isn't nailed down. That was the extent of the guidance Harris gave to his Blackguard Captains to disseminate down the ranks. All of RhyDin was up for grabs. Who was going to stop them anyway?

((Post your character's experience(s) during the citywide event here!))

[deus ex machina]

This evening, as the Blackguard ran amok throughout the city, local militias rose up to respond! These groups have sprung up recently in different parts of the city in response to the Blackguard threat.

Over the past few weeks, neighborhood charters have been signed by residents and business owners agreeing upon common concerns such as racketeering and related violence, and patrols have been formed to help make up for what the Watch either could not or would not do in their own neighborhoods. These groups are taking on limited roles in discouraging racketeering activities where they have formed and when they patrol.

While they are playing a pivotal role in turning back the Blackguard in several areas, they will for the most part not be disbanding once the violence appears to be over. Moreover, their ranks seem to be bolstered in some neighborhoods by Paladins.

[PrlUnicorn]

From her hospital bed in Dockside, Colleen watched the clips of the news footage. "So many hurt and dead because of greed." Her thoughts turned to her own loved ones. "So help me if they don't survive, even if I'm dead, I'll make him pay." Her attention was redirected by the arrival of several visitors, Maggie, Rhi, Eregor, Doran, and Ebon were not among them. She had seen flashes of their faces on the news.

[Mairead Harker]

Doran turned one of the Blackguard over to the Navarran Captain. It was the one Maggie had been searching for.

Two weeks ago

Maggie had never had to kill anyone before, but the choice had been clear. It was the Blackguardsman, Colleen or Doran. Maggie wasn't about to let her already wounded Gran or BFF die, not on her watch. As she killed one, another, one that had dealt a near fatal blow to her grandmother ran away. He taunted her. Maggie called out, "I'm coming for you. I will find you."

He laughed, "You better bring an army, kid." He had no idea of what he had unleashed.

Present time

The word had come from Doran, the one they were looking for was detained. Maggie's duty was clear, she had to be the one to decide the punishment. With Ebon being tended by a medic and watched over by Carlen Aleta, she returned to Old Market. She spent some time in prayer and reflection. Without her parents, godfather, or grandparents present, she turned to Athena for wisdom and Morrigan for strength. She knew full well that old gods could be vengeful, but she tempered their words and asked a favor of her Uncle Hades in her grandmother's name not her own.

"I know what needs doing, Uncle, I just need your help to do it."

The elder god nodded in assent. "I'll be waiting."

Maggie went to get a better look at the man who had unknowingly changed her from a teenager named Maggie Harker to the Lady Knight Marshal of Navarra. She shut the door behind her as she sat across from the prisoner. "I suppose you might be wondering why you're here and not dead."

The bearded man snorted. "Look, kid, I have no idea who you are."

Maggie frowned, her face looked far older than her fourteen years. "That's part of the problem, isn't it? You don't know or care who you have hurt. I'm the same kid whose grandmother and best friend you wounded. You and your cadre almost killed her. Then," she set her hands on the table in front of her, "told me to bring an army when I said I would find you." Her expression hardened. "Did you think I was joking? I brought the army. I hope you recognized the man that turned you in. "

There was something about that expression on one so young that might have been laughable, but when he recalled the names of those she was with that night, something inside him knew it was not a joke. The young one wasn't just posturing and fate worse than death was about to become a reality. "Seriously, kid, I have no clue."

"That was Doran Ilnaren, my best friend and the Squire of Old Market." Maggie was quiet for a bit to let the connections sink in.

"And? Am I supposed to be impressed?" He snorted.

"No, I just want you to know what fate has been decided for you."

"You have no right, you have no power here... you..."

Maggie smiled sardonically. "How ironic. You worked on behalf of a man that had no actual power, just by right of might and you tell me that I have no power?"As she took a few slow, deep breaths, people seemed to fill the room. They weren't living, they were the spirits of those that had died at his hands over the years including those who had been collateral damage. "But they do."

He'd been a mercenary all of his adult life and never realized that he would ever be afraid of a little girl. That she was able to help the dead be visible unnerved him for a moment. "Yeah, and they're dead, what can they do?" A smirk crossed his features

"It's not what they can do, but what I'm asking for on their behalf that is your punishment." Maggie's eyes closed, the weight of what she was doing would have been heavy for an adult let alone a teenager.

"Oooo, what are you gonna do kid? Have them haunt me?" He snorted and gave her a shit eating grin. "I can shut them out, I have for years."

"Not where I'm sending you, you won't." Maggie stood and nodded to the guard outside the door. "You're going to be taking care of every soul here. I had considered Tartarus, but that would put them there as well. You deserve it, but they don't." She set one hand on the door handle. "If you have a family and want to send word, you have until noon tomorrow, otherwise, that opportunity will pass."

He suddenly smiled and attempted play on Maggie's sympathies, "You would leave children without their father?"

"Not normally, but I doubt you have children." She called his bluff. Maggie wasn't a poker player like her Gran, but she played chess and knew a Queen's Gambit when she saw it.

Silence. Tick. Tick. Tick. "Just do it now, get it over with."

"Very well." Maggie sighed as she opened the door and waited for Hades to claim the arrogant man. Unlike the young woman before him, Hades would have no mercy. He never really liked claiming souls before their time, but this one had sent too many his way already.

Maggie returned to the others in the streets of Old Market to help with the wounded and cleaning up. It was what needed to be done.

[Strawberry]

“I don’t want to do it…”

But you will…

“But I will.”

Good girl.

“People are going to die, you know.”

I know it.

“Is it worth it?”

Is it not?

A sigh, tight and drawn was reflected back at her from the mirror before her. Stygian chainmail draped her form from throat to ankle, safeguarding her against the chaos that was to come. Already the bulk of the Blackguard had set themselves upon the city, looting, burning, and stealing anything that wasn’t burned down. Those that hadn’t yet left were waiting for her direction. Her contingent was a small thing, smaller now too that several had defected.

She couldn’t blame them.

Though they are hardly blameless.

“I know…”

With a sigh, she pushed platinum white hair out of her face, the threading of her fingers raking back and leaving a jagged headband made of what appeared to be black volcanic glass to hold her hair back. Hair secured, she swept a hand down the front of her face, covering the upper half in red obscura, hiding all but her lower half of her face and her eyes from view. One last glance was given to the girl in the mirror before she turned on a heel to go meet her men.

~

“You know the plan from here… take what you can. Do it quickly and efficiently. Don’t give in to the violence. It’ll make you sloppy and detract from your goal.” The half dozen men standing before her traded disappointed looks that she pretended not to notice. At the end of the day, they were mercenaries and this girl telling them what to do was exactly that, a little teenage girl. She was no great commander, no brilliant tactician. No, she was just a girl in over her head.

Make them believe in you.

How?

I have faith you’ll figure it out.

That makes one of us.

“Look,” she began, addressing the mercenaries. “I know you’d love to get wild out there but every minute you spend fighting with someone is a minute you are missing out on what someone else is being smart enough to take. I’ve given you a leg up that they don’t have though, so trust when I say your patience and discretion will be rewarded.”

“How? With a late start?” Asked one of the men from the back. Kevin, her favorite Blackguard, reached through the throng to sock the man in the mouth for it. He immediately shut up. Fighters they all may have been, but Kevin was not one to be fucked with and when he wanted you quiet, you shut the hell up.

“No. But I have done enough recon to be able to program into your comms the pinch points you’re going to want to avoid. I’ve also prioritized a number of businesses that I know are not protected by other groups and are most likely to have the most for you to take. You get a cut of your haul, remember that. So the more you bring back, the more you get to take home.” She explained. That seemed to placate them for the time being but she doubted it would last long. When there were no further questions, she waved them toward the door. “Go on. Do your thing.”

Kevin was the last to leave, waiting for the other five to disperse before stepping up to Strawberry. He looked down at her, almost affectionately as he set a hand to her shoulder. She looked up, the line of her mouth grim.

“We still moving forward with this?” He asked in a low rumble. She nodded. He quieted, looking back toward the door then down at her once more. “I can’t let you go out there, K.”

“What do you mean?” The half mask twitched as she furrowed her brows.

“It’s anarchy out there. My job’s to protect ya but I can’t keep you safe out there. So I’m really sorry but--”

Duck.

She ducked too late. His heavy handed blow caught her square where her jaw met her ear. She dropped like a bag of wet cement. Kevin sighed as he turned away from her, taking care to lock the door on the way out.

[Strawberry]

Thwap-thwap-thwap.

“Get up.”

A gloved hand pat-pat-patted her cheek again, ceasing only when she finally stirred. Her head pounded, her jaw ached, and the room spun something fierce. A hand curled around her upper arm, pulling her up into a sitting position. As her eyes focused upon the hooded figure, she frowned.

“Emissary.” She said softly.

“You mean thank you.” He countered.

“Yeah… for what?” Fingers rubbed at her jaw, wondering just how hard Kevin had clocked her.

“He shut you in here but you still have work to do.” He said. Like her, he wore a half face mask in a deep shade of crimson. Only once had she ever seen him without it. It was a shame too, because he wasn’t a bad looking man.

“He meant well.” She mumbled.

“Hardly. If you knew what he was up to out there, you wouldn’t be so dismissive of his intent.” He said. A flutter of his hand in front of them formed a scrying portal through which she watched as her contingent did exactly what she had told them not to. Karma sighed, slumping back against the leg of the table nearest her. The hooded man curved her another lush smile and stood, offering her his hand. “Do not despair, you can still accomplish your objective.”

A moment’s hesitation saw her finally taking the hand. He hauled her to her feet effortlessly, where he dusted her off and fixed her hair for her, his head tilting.

“White’s a good look on you.” He gave her cheek a fond pat before turning to the door. A push of his hand sent enough kinetic energy to blow it open, bursting the lock and busting through crates that had been pushed up against the door to keep her inside.

“...You weren’t kidding.” She mumbled.

“Do I ever?” He said. She couldn’t argue, the Emissary wasn’t much for jokes or exaggeration.

“Just the same… I guess I have work to do…”

“Go. He goes with you.”

~

The streets of Old Market were a war zone but it wasn’t a war that the Blackguard would win. Most seemed intent on smash and grab tactics but far too many indulged in baser instincts, assaulting or worse anyone they came across.

It wasn’t hard to find her men. For all of their disobedience, they had still taken advantage of her plans she had given them. Most of the stores had been thoroughly ransacked, anything of value removed and everything else trashed. She moved by way of shadows, unseen by all but the most astute observers.

Give me chaos.

Was this not enough chaos? The entire city was a mess and they were at the epicenter.

Never enough.

This was the way of her bond, her vow, it would never be enough until the Rejoining was realized. This was just a means to an end, feeding a beast much greater than her. But sometimes… sometimes chaos wasn’t feeding into the present insanity but rather doing the unexpected.

In order each of her men were tracked down. One by one by one, watched and followed to confirm that they had violated the basic tenets of their thieves’ code.

Judge.

Jury.

Executioner.

One by one by one. Relieved of their lives and spoils alike until there was just one.

“Hello Kevin.” Hip cocked to a doorway, a casual lean for the gravity of the situation. The hulk of a man wearing a grotesque Hallow’s Eve mask jumped, turning back to her with his blaster out.

“K?” He asked, dumbfounded. She curled him a pretty smile and took a step forward, undaunted by the blaster leveled her way. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I came to do my job… can you say the same?” She asked, head tilted. His blaster tip wavered, dipping left before he straightened it out with renewed purpose.

“You know he wasn’t payin’ us shit, K. He wasn’t payin’ you what you were worth either. We’re just trying to get our dues before that army out there tears us apart.” He pointed with the gun toward the window of the shop they occupied. She took that as her opportunity to jump.

The blaster went off too late, putting a hole in the ceiling and showering them with splintered wood and plaster. Kevin didn’t live long enough to bask in the rain of it all.

This was a mercy.

He wouldn’t have to worry about the army. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything at all for that matter. Karma swept her bloodied fingertips over his still open eyes to close them, took the last of his haul, and left Old Market behind.

[Issy]

The screens were starting to light up in front of them; red and yellow flashing lights were beginning to create a pattern. The digital image of the city was starting to look like a carnival, intersections beginning to illuminate with video footage and alarms. All of them pointing to Old Market. A half-muted beeping was what caught Isuelt’s attention first. She was passing through the map room, as it came to be called by a few, on the floor of Batten Tower devoted to the security division. A real-time surveillance system of the city and its immediately surrounding areas displayed on ten-foot screens for accurate responses to any and all trouble.

“What the hell’s going on in Old Market?” She entered the room and let her dark eyes roam up toward the screens, now beginning to take in the full scope that something was happening in the city’s northeastern region.

“Looks like we’ve got multiple reports coming in from surveillance of…” the man seated began to peck away at the tablet before him.

“Of what?” Isuelt had never been the most patient person.

“Of…of everything.” The near disbelief in his voice was evident as he continued to speak, the lights on the screens seeming to multiply. “Of robberies, assaults, a few fires…I have no idea what the hell happened. It’s just…all of sudden, like a free-for-all.”

Isuelt was about to ask another question when she heard the voice of Jason Tatopolous. “That’s exactly what it is.” She looked to the current deputy of Batten’s security division. “Governor Pharlen knew this was coming. It’s the Blackguard blowing everything to shit thanks to Harris D’Artainian. It’s like a damned riot.” Jason looked pointedly at Isuelt, whose shoulders lifted in a quiet sigh. She knew that this had been talked about and that there had been a call to arms from the governor. She had just been profoundly disappointed in Harris. His reign of severe politics in his region had become the last straw and there was now open rebellion and ramification. While Isuelt didn’t consider herself ‘close’ to Harris, she knew him just the same and found it hard to believe that it had come to this. After all, Harris wasn’t that much of an asshole.

“You listening to me, Issy?” Jason was looking up at the tall woman, a brow arched.

“Yes,” Isuelt looked toward him. “Yes, I am.” She lied.

“You want in on this one?” His lips curled into a small smile.

Isuelt looked away from the screens to gaze at him fully. “Yes.” She could feel excitement brewing beneath the surface of her skin. Action! Real action! Like she used to have!

“Okay, listen…” Jason began to gesticulate with his hands, “No killing, no swords. I know what kind of Scathachian you were, Mr Batten has made a point to tell anyone who is too dumb to already know. So, I also know that you are a weapon yourself. He’d didn’t have to work so hard making that understood, but he still says it at every opportunity.” He smirked lightly. “So, don’t draw that piece unless you absolutely have to. You’re not going out on a patrol as you used to. You’re now doing it as an emissary of Edward Batten and Batten Industries. You copy?” Both of his eyebrows were now raised in an effort to make his point.

“Of course,” came the cool and practiced reply of the warrior. “For the company and for Mr. Batten.” Isuelt nodded, just like she was meant to.

Jason sighed, thinking this was beyond his better judgement. “Okay, go kick some ass.” He winked at her and smiled. He wasn’t stupid. He either let her go as an assignment or she was going to go on her own. This way, she’d have the backing of Batten Industries rather than just blasting into the fray as a vigilante. He’d been with Batten long enough to understand how that went.

“Yes, sir!” It was as if he had given her the key to the city. Isuelt spun out of the room so fast that she nearly took out the intern who was walking down the hallway slowly as he gazed at the file on his screen. Luckily for him, he had pretty good balance.

Isuelt took little time to get herself ready. She was dressed in jeans and black t-shirt, and underneath her leather jacket, she wore a shoulder holster with her new version of her blessed blade. It was this weapon that Jason didn’t want her to draw unless it was absolutely necessary. Isuelt didn’t think she’d need it at all. She was no fan of firearms. She found them a cowardly way to engage an enemy; so remote, not personal like hand to hand or her swords had been. Using a firearm was most definitely a route of last resort as far as Isuelt was concerned.

It didn’t take her long to reach the chaos, it was far-reaching and from just outside of Batten Tower to the edge of Old Market, she counted two businesses on fire being attended to by the fire brigades, a few bodies in the gutters, and four brawls. Isuelt passed by all of these, however, to enter the heart of the district. She was following her gut. There was smoke and yelling all around her, she stood near a street corner and shook her head. This was madness and it was surreal, to say the least. A pair of female screams got her attention. She looked to her left and watched two young women, one with a ripped blouse which she was holding together with one hand. The other woman was helping her run. Isuelt’s brows knitted and lowered as the yelping lasses ran past her, the warrior turned her attention to the left and saw four men, all wearing the black body armor of the Blackguard, laughing and giving chase to the two women. Isuelt nearly snarled as she headed toward them.

They saw her coming and one had a fist raised, another had some sort of blunt weapon that looked more like a club or self-styled mace than anything. Instead of taking them up top, Isuelt halted her run toward them at the last minute and squatted down low, sticking out a long leg. She tripped up the front two runners who when sprawling, grinding themselves into the street until they skidded to a stop. Amid the curses and profanities being hurled toward her, Isuelt stood to face the other two coming at her. She knew the body armor was going to be a factor (Batten security had already been briefed on the schematics of the Titan-2 amour and its strengths), so she knew she had to concentrate her attacks on the head or on the balance of the Blackguardsmen.

Isuelt stepped back, gauging the two men who weren’t writhing in the street bleeding from their heads or faces. She knew that the women who they had been chasing were now far from here, she had given them that at least.

“What do we have here? A woman who thinks she’s a superhero?” One of them sneered at her. Isuelt would have bet that he was intoxicated from the way he slurred through his words. That would definitely work in her favor. Hopefully his friends had been imbibing as well. “Well, let me tell you lady, there are no such things as superheroes around here anymore! We’re the new superheroes!” He laughed and lunged clumsily at her. Isuelt pivoted her weight and spun around to kick high, landing her boot heel right across his jaw with merciless precision. RIngs or no rings, she was no stranger to fighting, after all. A spray of blood flew from his mouth as his mandible was crushed and he crumbled to the ground, screaming in pain. Isuelt’s dark eyes flicked to the next man.

“That was really stupid, bitch.” This one didn’t slur his words. Isuelt took a quick stock of him: taller than the others, but not broader. No helmet, but a single bar on his left breastplate. This one was no scrub, he was a sergeant.

Isuelt upnodded to him in a defiant gesture. She had the luxury in a few places lately (though not many) of not being recognized. She was hoping this was one of those times. “Yeah, I’ve been told…”

He wasn’t as drunk as his counterparts, he took a moment to step to the side, almost beginning to circle her. He was sizing her up as well. She didn’t have a weapon, at least one that he could see; and she certainly didn’t behave like a magic user. He saw a window and took it. He lunged forward, faking a fade to the right and instead punched at her with his left. Isuelt took only half the force of his punch as she dodged him a bit too late. Still, she remained on her feet, eyeing him narrowly.

The two faced off as prize fighters, circling each other. Isuelt drew a deep breath, it had been a while since she’d faced off against someone like this. She hoped she wasn’t too rusty. He lunged first with an uppercut that Isuelt narrowly avoided. She leaned into him with a gut punch…though it did little good. That armor did more damage to Isuelt’s hand than it did to the sergeant’s midsection. She was at a disadvantage and they both knew it. Isuelt saw a brief grin on the lips of the Blackguard sergeant before he tackled her. They hit the street hard and Isuelt grunted between the pressure of the concrete and the body armor of the sergeant atop her. A gloved hand grabbed hold of her hair, lifting her head and smacking it back against the street.

Isuelt’s eyes rolled back as she struggled to stop her world from spinning. If she didn’t act quickly, this fight was going to be over very soon. He was within arm’s reach and she jabbed out effectively (and miraculously) landing the blow, though she was aiming for his jaw rather than his nose. Still, the nose made a nice substitution as the pain from the hit sent the Blackguardsman reeling and blood spraying.

“Damnit!” A few other gurgled obscenities were hurled forth as the sergeant crawled off of Isuelt. She rolled away and got to her feet, albeit still a bit wobbly from the head contusion. She watched him, his nose was definitely crooked and he looked a mess. He was pissed, there was no mistake. He charged her, knowing that she could do little worse than she had already done if he used his armored body as his lead. He tackled her fully once more, but was more careful to avoid her close range strikes. In fact, he grabbed her head once more and knocked it against the street.

Her disoriented punches were blandly hitting his armor, she was running out of time. Isuelt tried to kick or buck or twist her way out from underneath him, but he was simply too tall, too long. She could feel his blood dripping from his nose onto her face, stinging her eyes and before long, she felt his hands around her throat. Isuelt’s hands tried to pry off his fingers. The sergeant was not fooling around, he was pressing her throat without hesitation. It felt like he was trying to pop her head off of her neck like the bud off of a stem. The two of them went back and forth, fighting for possession of her throat. And just as Isuelt gained the advantage, prying his fingers from her flesh, the sergeant used his newly unoccupied hand to punch her side. Any breath she had struggled to victoriously claim was now forced out of her lungs.

“Now you’re going to die in the street like the dog that you are,” his spit and blood mixed to rain down on Isuelt’s face and neck.

This is it, she thought. This is how I die. She coughed lightly and clenched her eyes shut, trying to clear them. However, as she opened them once more, the sergeant went flying from on top of her. He literally sailed to the side. Isuelt sat up, coughing more, and looked about size feet to her left, where the Blackguardsman lay, now with another figure on top of him. Isuelt rubbed some blood off of her eyes and blinked. It was Cullen!

“Richard!?” Isuelt breathed his name more than said it. But there he was, drawing back his arm and sucker punching the sergeant not once, but twice. Between Cullen’s hits and the broken nose that Isuelt had given him, he was too stunned to fight back. As Cullen got up and off of him, he merely groaned.

“You okay?” The Watch lieutenant moved quickly to Isuelt’s side, looking over the blood all over her. His hands gently stroking her cheek and jawline, looking for the source.

“I’m okay, it’s not mine.” Isuelt could talk again.

Cullen sighed deeply with obvious relief. “What the hell are you doing out here? Without…without a weapon…it’s nuts right now. The Blackguard is having a fucking field day, the Resistance is losing ground.”

“I…I’m here for Batten security. I needed to see what was happening for myself.” Isuelt shook her head.

“Oh yeah? Is this up close and personal enough for ya?” Cullen was clearly angry with her bravado. Yet again. He turned toward her now, placing his hands on her shoulders, “Iz, please, get the hell out of here. You can’t do any good here. Not like this. Maybe if you had your Scathachians, maybe if you had your swords. But these assholes have body armor that can’t be touched. You can’t face punch your way out of this one. They’re fucking animals…”

Isuelt was watching over Cullen’s shoulder, the sergeant was up. Up and reaching to his side.

“…we’ve got to pull back behind the lines that the Resistance set up and help strengthen them from that side of the-“

“Richard!” Isuelt saw the weapon that the sergeant drew. There was no time for Cullen to react. She instinctively drew Cullen’s firearm from the holster under his arm; she knew exactly where it had always been. As Cullen let go of Isuelt, he turned around to look at the Blackguardsman who hurriedly leveled his weapon straight at Cullen. A blast went off, Cullen flinched, his hands moving to his gut. But in an instant he knew he was not hit. In an instant the sergeant’s mouth opened slightly, relinquishing a flow of rich, sanguine liquid. A neat, small circle in the middle of the Blackguardsman’s forehead slowly began to trickle blood. Cullen blinked and looked back to Isuelt. She was holding Cullen’s sidearm, it was still smoking. Cullen’s mouth hung dumbly open as the Blackguard sergeant dropped to the ground.

Cullen was breathless and staring at Isuelt, “I…I could kiss you.”

“We gotta get out of here.” She finally saw the wisdom in Cullen’s words. This was no-mans-land; getting behind the Resistance’s lines was smarter. The pair retreated hastily, heading back for the western side of Old Market. Behind the line, they could work out their own plans and Cullen could help reorganize the Watch.

[Lucy Mitford]

PUBLIC: an Art Gallery --- temporarily closed for repairs

Locals are reporting that PUBLIC, the art gallery owned by Lucy Mitford is currently boarded-up and has its CLOSED sign firmly in place following the events of Saturday, March 21, 2020. Only one of the two plate-glass windows is boarded over, while the other provides a view of a gallery in transition. Half of the paintings have been pulled from the walls and there is evidence of some minor fire damage. A sign in the window reads:

We are sad to say that the Gallery was recently vandalized during the crime wave that overtook our beautiful district. Our deepest regrets are saved for our artists and patrons who have lost precious works of art. Like everyone who lives and works here, we hope we have seen the end of the violence. Our community deserves better.

This is but a temporary set-back. We will return very soon, stronger than ever, and committed to sharing art with the PUBLIC.

Speaking with ArtScene magazine at the beginning of the week, Mitford elaborated that three pieces were stolen from the gallery, including a larger work by the featured artist Lucas Walsh which was, in Mitford's words, "tragically cut from its frame." All three of the stolen pieces had already been sold to gallery patrons and were scheduled for shipment at the closing of the current show in April.

"Artworks like this are incredibly difficult to move on the black market," Mitford explained. "Not only are they very recognizable by those in the arts community, they're works by up-and-coming artists who have only just begun to establish their financial value." Mitford was reluctant to disclose a specific price for the lost works. "The real loss is for the artists who invest so much in everything they create. To them, no amount of money can replace the loss."

The incident is currently under insurance investigation.