La Maison Soloumbre: Morning of April 10th

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La Maison Soloumbre: Morning of April 10th

Post by Nathan of the FoS »

The first day of the Fraternity conference dawns cool and clear, by the standards of Souragne; both the red sky in the east at dawn and the cloud "no larger than a man's hand" at the horizon over the sea promise rain later in the day, and the barometer set in its little alcove in the veranda is dropping slowly but steadily as the carriages arrive, bringing the Fraternity members to their first meeting.

The great ballroom has been arranged with tables and chairs for those who will attend--now some sixty strong. The raised platform where, in other times, the orchestra took its place has been rendered into a sort of stage for the speakers; muslin curtains cut the weak morning sunlight to a diffuse yellow glow and obscure the proceedings within from the eyes of outsiders. A light breakfast in the Dementlieuse style has been laid, buffet-style, for those who have not already broken their fast elsewhere.

As the appointed hour draws near those present take their seats; an expectant hush falls over the room as those who are to direct the meeting move to the low dias and take their places at the table placed there for them. At present there are but four. Exalted Brother Pierre Lacomte, dapper despite his age in his fawn-colored suit, and Esteemed Brother Viktor Hazan, in his role as host and as the first to present his research into the Fraternity's new home here, are figures greatly to be respected; but between them sit two who are figures to be feared. Umbra Jan Mikkelson sits like a very prince of Hell, his golden eyes gazing out over those assembled like one born to command, but the figure at his left, though less striking, is even more sinister; a gray-and-black shadow of a man, thin and pale, who seems to leach the light from the air around him by his very presence--Tarnos Shadowcloak himself.
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

Buchvold was one of the first members to take his seat in the ballroom. He had passed the barrier as soon as the sun had risen as he always liked to arive early.He has spent the intervening time tring to sell some of his items. Somewhat richer for his time he gestures to a servent that he requiered no further refresment. He now withdraws the notebook that he always carries with him, and prepairs to take notes, as soon as the speakers start.
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Post by alhoon »

Draxton was in the room early in the morning. As he moved to the buffet to help himself to some tea and Sourangian bread, he noticed that Buchvold was here early. That may be coincidence, maybe not. Taking a plate and his cup he moved to his seat and sat down near Buchvold. As if making casual talk, Draxton said to Buchvold.

"Interesting company we have today, don't we? Still I expect the rest of the fathers will be here soon."
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

"Unlikly" replied Buchvold. "I am informed that all the others have pressing buisness. It is a minor miracale that these two could make it."

The borcan illusionist looks at Serd more closly.

"By the way, are you Draxton Serd? I know that he defended the Manoir, but we did not see each other on that occasion.If you are he, I have something of interest to discuss. However..."He motions to the other brothers "it had best be talked of away from the public ear"

OOC Yes, the Borcan is being very careless here. Sence motive DC 34 to guess that's out of character for him
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Post by alhoon »

Draxton smiled politely. Not wanting to alert any others he said "Sure, later. Yes, I'm Draxton Serd. I have seen you on occasion in other meetings before the last one. I saw you and your hireling in the docks the other night, my own bodyguard is named Dadrag. He is a more pleasant fellow that he seems these days."

OOC> DC 34? LoL. Not even close. The "Sure, later." is a confirmation that he is interested but obviously he tries to appear to make casual talk.
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

"Indeed" smiles Buchvold, pleased at this attempt to make small talk, (It gives him something to do to pass the time)
"If that is so , I congratulate him on being a superb actor. I happened to meet him for a breif time yesterday, and he certianly appeared to be a cold person dedicated to violence and drink."
"Mind you, that can help in choosing a bodyguard. It makes a man very pradictable."

OOC WT...! I must have been concussed. I just got 31 for that check. Still by the sounds of it, Serd still lost.
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Post by alhoon »

"Dadrag knows how to keep a secret, that's what I wanted most. He has gained his pay more times with this cold and violent-promising attitude than his blade. What about your bodyguard? He seems .... exotic and a man of honor"
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

"Indead, and men of honor are always usefull." Buchvold dosen't even bothor to mention that he's a better combatent than he looks.
"So what have you been doing in the intervening time, Mr. Serd?"

OOC DC 26 Sence motive to work out that an inquiery this clumsy is realy out of character for Buchvold.
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Post by alhoon »

OOC> 26 straight.

Strange. Buchvold wasn't that blunt usually. No Borcan selling magic could be or he would have been found poisoned long ago when he mentioned the wrong thing about his customers to suspicious ears. From what he has seen the previous times, either studying the man or listening to him talking to others he seemed more... in hold of his tongue. Still, the place was protected by doppelgangers. Strange.

"Mostly traveling and took care of my business. Found out some rumors that may lead to interesting information."
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

"Hmm. I fear that we have been mirroring each others movements." smiled the Borcan.

"But Now, if you will excuse me, I fear I have other buisness to attend to."

He gets up, and exits towards the main enterence. As he does so, Serd notices that Buchvold appears to have dropped a small peice of paper right next to him.

Unfolding it, it reads

8pm, in the small clearing to the right of the road to town , just outside the fraternity perimeter. Bring your bodyguard if you must, but no other.
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

As the appointed hour strikes on the great grandfather clock in the hallway, Mikkelson stands and makes a gesture of welcome to those present. "Brothers of the Fraternity," he says, smiling his strange sharp smile, "it is my very great pleasure to give you welcome to this general meeting. We have had, since our last official gathering, suffered reverses; we have lost friends and brothers, both to the passing of Time, and, still more sadly, to base and vile treachery. There are many who would oppose us, and one of the most important of them has made his cast, and wounded us indeed."

Mikkelson casts his gaze around the room, and then continues, "Wounded us, indeed--but not deeply. We meet here as we have done since our founding, to tell one another what we have learned of Shadow, and to bend Shadow to our will. Our resolve is unshaken, our brotherhood unbroken; we meet in defiance of our enemies, and in solidarity and fraternity among ourselves. Our struggle may be long, but we have every expectation of being equal to it, and of setting our heels at last on the throats of our enemies.

"Of all this we will speak; but let us not forget that we are, of all things, a society dedicated to the betterment of our understanding and ourselves. Est lux scientiae Umbra.* We therefore take this opportunity to note those of our number who have gained advancement within the Fraternity since our last meeting; this business will be conducted by Exalted Brother Pierre Lacomte. We will then be favored by our gracious host, Esteemed Brother Viktor Hazan, with his collected notes on his newly-adopted homeland. Brother Lacomte, the floor is yours."

*The knowledge of Shadow is light. Yes, I know, my command of Latin grammar is virtually non-existant. :P
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Post by Joël of the FoS »

While Mikkelson introduces the meeting, Viktor walks in the Grand Ballroom, with many papers loose under his arms, and a leather pocket that seems full of objects.

He smiles and waves at those looking at him, and then take a seat in the back.
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Post by Pamela »

The spiritualist; their discussion; the first meeting with the Fraternity since the debacle: these had together stirred up a lot of bad memories and fears. It was reasonable under the circumstances for Gertrude to blame her troubled sleep on these factors. The sight of Mikkelson’s cat-like eyes stirred up shards of her dreams, and she sat up straighter, as if this would raise her head above the stream of thoughts that whirled in her mind. Focus… she chided herself, unaware of her right hand touching the pendant which lay hidden beneath her grey, no-nonsense dress. She had arrived later than she’d planned (though still on time), wanting some time for her sense of unease to settle. She chose a seat somewhere in the middle rows; not wanting to either draw inordinate attention or to seem timid. Her notebook and pencil were poised, ready to mark down any observations or insights, the date already written in Zherisian in neat, small characters.

She listened to the Father’s rousing speech, her face showing the appropriate reactions of solemnity and eagerness. Personally, she harboured some skepticism about how close they were to seeing van Rijn vanquished. After all, Larner was investigating whether the traitor was even in Zherisia or not. If they didn’t have any knowledge about his whereabouts, they had no idea as to what his plans to date had been, let alone what resources he had at hand.

Her attention became more sincere when the rhetoric shifted to the topic of promotions. Her eyes were inevitably drawn to the Shadowcloak, and again her sense of unease arose. Mikkelson’s presence had been unnerving the day before, but she had laid aside his unusual features as some unique side-effect. Now the man who might be her mentor stood before…and looked like some sinister ghost. The treacherous thought arose, Leached of colour and life, and she quickly pushed it aside. Still, her old religious background murmured, Does this path towards divinity come at the cost of our humanity?
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

Buchvold returns just as Mikkleson begins talking.He takes one of the few remaining unocupied seates, pulls out his notebook, but does not bother with a pen, untill the Umbra is finished.

and so the new star rises, on corpses blood and fear.[ /i]

Odd. Now were was that from? The Borcan ponders to himself as Lacomte takes the floor.

Strange, how inconciquential old phrases can come to mind, at the most peculiar of times.

What has that old quote to do with anything?
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Post by alhoon »

Draxton, the note secure in his pocket didn't even turn to look at Buchvold as he passed by him to take a seat. He was relaxed in his chair a piece of paper in front of him in case he had to write something down, like a name or address.
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