Marais de Tarascon: Night of April 10th

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Marais de Tarascon: Night of April 10th

Post by Nathan of the FoS »

The travelers, their unexpected journey complete, are on the road outside of Port d'Elhour; the moon is obscured again behind her veil of clouds, and lightning flickers over the sea.
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Post by Pamela »

At Roeccha’s lack of names for guides, one source of referral came to Kingsley's own mind, that might be willing to consider her request. I’ll suggest it to the others, but I’d wager that I’m the only one here who’s visited before and has any contacts at all… At least she’d trust anyone her source recommended.

As she’d taken the ring, so the scholar now reached almost greedily for the coin, to see if it revealed anything about the voodan’s affiliations or role. Her eyes brightened at the inscriptions, and she planned to copy it later for her own personal notes. She would not publish it, not if it would offend a potential source. “Thank you, Brother,” she said, placing it in her left pocket, and away from the wrapped ring in her right.

She nodded at the idea of their staying in the Port, but she wondered at how long it would take both to find a guide, reach Chicken Bone, get the ring examined, and return. She didn’t like the idea of missing the morning lectures, but meeting the voodan was far more important to her. Though I’ll probably be alone in that, Gertrude thought with some amusement. I must be careful not to ‘waste time’ chatting as far as the others are concerned- assuming, of course, that he even has any interest in doing that.

Or in co-operating with us. And try to avoid using this coin at all- who’s to say that the guide himself won’t mention it?


She shook her head at the mention of questions, then joined in the circle, standing between Crow and Buchvold. Magic circle of the elements, with Roeccha as spirit, she thought irreverently, but she quickly sobered up at the strange spell that was cast. She stepped onto the onyx-bright path, and gasped at the strange imagery that confronted her. What is this?! She looked up at the moon, and the unfamiliar clear sky without its familiar constellations. She turned at the sudden movement on the ground, wondering if the serpent had somehow come to life in some way, to realise that it was her own shadow, which seemed obscenely vivid. She looked away, then back again, before looking to see the others. She blanched as she saw Roeccha, and was thankful that she was not standing beside the… Man? Is he? Was he ever? Her hand unconsciously gripped Crow’s tighter, both in commiseration for his distasteful position, and for comfort from the one truly friendly face present.

Oh blessed sun thank you, she thought a moment later as she found herself standing in the wonderfully mundane world once more. She took a deep breath, both to shake off her fear and to rejoice in the return. She quickly released her hold of the others, with a slightly embarrassed smile, which froze as the shadowy Brother left. She closed her eyes, and swore to herself, Never that; nothing is worth that…

She then opened her eyes and wanly remarked, “Well, while it was the swiftest means of transportation I’ve encountered, I can’t say that it’d be a favourite. But come now, gentlemen! I have an idea as to who might provide us a guide. If she’s not at Le Coq Noir, she’ll probably be at White Magnolia Hill, but I suggest we try the gambling house first; it’s at least in the city and spare us a wild goose chase.”
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 alhoon »

"Also by going in the Gambling house and then to an inn, we confound a bit spies of the enemy. After all, if we spent some time gambling and then go to an inn, it would seem far more reasonable than going to an inn and then going to a gambling house"
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Post by VAN »

alhoon wrote:"...it would seem far more reasonable than going to an inn and then going to a gambling house"
Why? You can pretty well go the inn first get your companions and go all together to the gambling house! :roll:
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Post by steveflam »

VAN wrote:
alhoon wrote:"...it would seem far more reasonable than going to an inn and then going to a gambling house"
Why? You can pretty well go the inn first get your companions and go all together to the gambling house! :roll:
I second that motion :D !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Post by Moral Machivelli »

Buchvold has been quiet throughout these procedings. Anyone observing him would see that utter suprise, and great interest are compeating well within him. However, He enters the discussion at this point.

"Would it not be best, however, to split up? As a group, we do not exactly blend in."

"We all appear to have somthing to get done in the city. Why not have Sister Kingsly investigate this guide at Le Coq Noir? Brother Serd will want to find up his own man and I have a few items left in my rooms that may be usefull, if we encounter hostilities." He turns to "brother" Crow, making a visable effort to be polite

"Do you know of anything, ot more pressingly, anyone, who may be of use to us, Brother Crow? If so, could you kindly deal with them. Lets meet ... at the gambaling hall? If the good Sister has not found her guide, we could then proceed to White Magnolia Hill"
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Post by Pamela »

Oh for sun’s sake, who’s going to be watching us?! If they were able to follow our journey from the Maison to here, they certainly aren’t going to be fooled by a trip to the Casino. And why go to an inn at all? We have no idea how long we’ll be- oh, this bodyguard of his…

She turned at the Borcan’s suggestion, smiling pleasantly at the sensible suggestion. “A good point, Buchvold; it will also hasten the process.” I also don’t need Jeanne to pick up on my own distrust of you two. She might refuse, and I could hardly blame her.

Yet the Brothers let them go…

And may be watching us now. Or one of us… Another test?


Her ire and frustration at the situation began to arise. And if it is, what am I to do? Kill them with my bare hands and a handful of magic missiles, perhaps? Or tattle on their every word? Perhaps follow them invisibly? Enough, you’re tired; enjoy the opportunity you have been presented with.

And who knows? Perhaps they haven’t done anything wrong…


She smiled with private amusement at that possibility, while turning back to the conversation. “On that note, gentlemen, I leave you to your discussion, and look forward to reuniting at Le Coq Noir.” She gave them a curtsey before walking off.

She would have appreciated Crow’s company, but it would not do to let Buchvold and Serd know this. As it was, she was still worried about the potential cloud that might still be hanging over her head, and didn’t wish the bard to fall under its shadow. There will be time enough to talk, she reminded herself as she took one last look at the sea, eyes shining with a private delight at the flickering of the storm there.

But now, a guide, and the chance to meet Chicken Bone! The possibility sweetened her mood as she considered the coming trip. And perhaps Messrs Buchvold and Serd are doing nothing more than the usual plottings and backstabbings that riddle the Fraternity… Best to remain on cordial terms, and not to invite their enmity.
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Dadrag and George

Post by steveflam »

George stands and looks at Dadrag "This place bores me, I have heard of this other Inn, Le Coq Noir. Have you been? I thought we could go there and see what the evening may bring, Dadrag". With that, George starts to walk towards the exit, sure that Dadrag would follow. He stops at the counter, handing the barman a few silver pieces "Please inform Mr Rivtoff I shall be at the Coq Noir Inn old chap, thanks".


This Inn is unsufferable, my patience has its limits after all! Hours upon hours in this hellhole can really grate on ones nerves indeed! Mayhap we can find ourselves some entertainment this evening at this Coq Noir Inn? Curse these forsaken mists for ever bringing here! Llolth must be having a good laugh at my expense ineed! Well at least there is Dadrag now. That is the an unexpected surprise, surely to make my stay here more bearable!
Last edited by steveflam on Sat Mar 17, 2007 10:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Rotipher of the FoS »

Moral Machivelli wrote:"Would it not be best, however, to split up? As a group, we do not exactly blend in."
The bard nods (grudgingly) in acknowledgement of the Borcan's words, whilst mentally rolling his eyes at his "ally's" articulation of the obvious. As if the locals haven't been gossiping non-stop about the Maison's weird visitors, since the gathering's first attendee set foot upon the dock. "Retired merchants", indeed! Academic and small-town mindsets: each naive in its own way, yet so alien to one another, they might as well be on different Clusters....

Still, parting company for the nonce isn't an adverse suggestion. Aside from changing out of his casino-won garments -- hardly suited to a trek through bug-infested marshlands, and still soaked from the storm; even had he known Kaspan's trick for drying off, such an overt use of magic in the town would be unwise, despite the community's tacit toleration for bards over other arcanists -- it will allow him to jot a few notes on his recent observations, as well as tend to his disguise. Roeccha's method of travel, in particular, warrants documentation; the VRS spy has heard of such spells, by which powerful mages and even a few maestros of his own calling could venture through the realm of shadows, but so far as memory serves, he has never before experienced such a journey.

The trip's inadvertant revelation about the shalach-ti's nature, though bizarre, merits a note as well. Already, it has relieved both his itching wrists -- See now, Crow-my-lad? Not even the Fraternity's membership-standards are as sordid as that; don't let old fears bias your judgment -- and his nagging uncertainty as to how a darkling could have managed to slip the Core's bounds and come here.

"We all appear to have somthing to get done in the city. Why not have Sister Kingsly investigate this guide at Le Coq Noir? Brother Serd will want to find his own man and I have a few items left in my rooms that may be useful, if we encounter hostilities."
Another good point, considering how the confiscated possessions of the other three might not have been returned. If Buchvold or Serd -- or the professor for that matter, improbable though it seems -- should have any magical trinkets to retrieve from their lodgings, the bard is all for it. With the Borcan still frustratingly reticent about his own arcane capacities, the Lady Scalpel's spells most likely scholastic rather than combative, and the odious Richemulouise's magics largely unknown (not to mention possibly necromantic, hence nothing Serd would dare use in front of the rest of them), Crow is uncomfortably aware that he may be required to cast spells of his own, should their party meet up with danger. Having so few options to choose amongst, he'd prefer not to reveal any more of his limited spell-repretoire than he already has; if at all possible, he'll let the wizards cover that angle in a pinch.

"Do you know of anything, ot more pressingly, anyone, who may be of use to us, Brother Crow? If so, could you kindly deal with them. Let's meet ... at the gambling hall? If the good Sister has not found her guide, we could then proceed to White Magnolia Hill"
The bard shrugs, a casual gesture bordering on impertinent, the better to deflate the Borcan's forced politeness a bit. In all candor, he has no idea how to locate a guide to navigate the swamps. Prior to the meeting at the Maison, his discreet queries in town had concerned his hosts' doings, not the backwoods, and with Ceatsã at his beck and call, he's not in the habit of traveling cross-country with an escort.

"Fair enough," he remarks of Buchvold's planned rendezvous. "Don't let's be too long, mind: the sooner we're done with this errand and back to civilization, the better. Comparing the voracity of bayou mosquitoes at dusk with that of the swarms at dawn is one line of inquiry even our hosts at the Maison had the wisdom to omit from their Survey, and I've no desire to rectify that oversight!" He winks wryly at Kingsley -- the only one of their quartet with the good sense to veil herself against the pernicious insects -- so as to uphold their tentative, humor-facilitated rapport. Despite the clear enthusiasm of which her stance has boasted, since first the name 'Chicken Bone' was uttered, Crow wouldn't want his own urge to make this venture a brief one to set them at odds.

The corner of the Zherisian's lip rises momentarily, whether at the bard's quip or one of the humorous internal musings which, he gathers, she uses to build up her determination and courage. A moment's concern strikes him as she takes her leave of the group -- some of Port d'Elhour's streets are hardly the place for an unaccompanied foreign woman to go strolling in the dark -- but he knows that Kingsley, proud of her autonomy, would likely resent an offer to tag along. Nor does he dare to let Serd learn of their nascent friendship ... to say nothing of whomsoever the Fraternity officers may have tasked to monitor their foursome's progress. A sober bow and a silent wish for her good luck is all he can offer, as she sets out.

"Seems to me that any further planning will have to await our reunion, gentlemen," Crow observes, nodding to the professor's departing back. "As we won't know until then if we've a guide or not. If anything overly-distressing should transpire in the next half hour, you can track me down at the Two Hares; else, I'll see you both at the rendezvous ten minutes after that." He briefly meets Buchvold's gaze, his gray eyes glittering in the flash of lightning over the harbor.

He starts to turn away, then pauses, reaches into a pocket, and fishes out the pouch of coins Roeccha had entrusted to him. He hefts it twice, as if testing its weight, then abruptly tosses the purse to Draxton Serd.

"Probably best if you carry this, sir -- it's Serd, correct? -- as I've a bit of a poor record at hanging on to money. Setting me loose in a town with this many gaming halls isn't the shrewdest of moves for someone who's just handed me their purse, you see. If you're as prosperous a merchant as your reputation suggests, Brother, you surely know how to resist such temptations."

His eyes shift from the Richemulouise to the Borcan, and harden slightly.

"No offense to you intended, mind you, Brother Buchvold. I'm just not the greatest fan of banks and moneylenders. Give them your pocket change, they'll hold back one coin in four for fees. And if Brother Serd's bodyguard should know of a potential guide, he'll need the funds to hire one directly, in any case."

Not that I don't appreciate the show of confidence, shalach-ti, but I'd be a fool indeed not to be wary of my own tricks' use against me! Even if the Fraternity's bards wouldn't know a Listening Coin from a tin raven-claw, it might just be easier to scry on a man who's carrying something you gave him ... and, believe my sorry Requiem tale or not, there's no way you'd leave 'Brother Crow' unwatched, just now. So if you are working through that purse, perhaps the 'old goat's' naughty necromantic hobbies will keep your prying eyes occupied, and out of my hair.

Having divested himself of the potential divinatory link -- and taken a first step in playing nicely with the Richemulouise, while sniping at Buchvold in the process -- the bard bows again (a touch more sardonically than for Kingsley), and sets off for the Two Hares Inn, to check if he's been left any messages before proceeding to his real sleeping quarters.

As he walks off, he whistles -- showtunes again, this time an insipid coda called "Broken Hearts Restored" -- and feels the gratifying tingle of magic upon his skin, as the meticulously-crafted, rain-imperiled artistry of his makeup begins subtly Mending itself.


[OOC: Okay, so Mending doesn't normally work like that ... but Crow's is a variant of that spell he's used IMC for ages, and Nathan told me via pm that it's okay to use it here too. :wink: Plus, I'm assuming Crow and Buchvold had planned enough covert cues so the Borcan will know to expect the bard ten minutes early (= one minute less out of four). Thirty minutes should be plenty of time for him and Buchvold to finish what they're doing, and forty, for Kingsley and Serd to meet their respective contacts and stop off at their own hotel rooms.]
"Who [u]cares[/u] what the Dark Powers are? They're [i]bastards![/i] That's all I need to know of them." -- Crow
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Post by VAN »

Dadrag lefts a few coins at the table and then he heads to the barman.

"Francis, I need anothe favor from you."

"What? I just... the old man from the swamp..."

Dadrag slips a silver piece to the barman and interrupts him.

"Francis, it's a simple one. If Signor Serd comes here and asks for me, just tell him that I'll be at Coq Noir. Ok?"

The barman's glance passes from the bodyguard to the coin and back again.

"Sure Monseur Sotris, as you wish. Ah and the man is ok now, he has regained his sences and..."

"Thank you Francis."

With that Dadrag follows George out of the inn.
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Post by Coan »

Meanwhile at Coq Noir a man sits near the bar, his large long coat draping to the ground from his stool's height. The man had only recently arrived at the Inn having grown board with his previous travels.

Next to him, propped against the bar itself as ever, was the long wrapped cylinder of blue silk and string. Sipping his drink he observed the crowd as a woman leaned over next to him.

"And so I thought it would be rather debonair and risk if you were to call upon my mistress' house. Would that... suit you... sir?" she gave the last part of her question a slight inclination in tone and tried an attempt at a seductive glance.

It didn't work.

"Ma'am, you're looking at the wrong man. I am but a simple traveller here." The girl looked momentarily surprised and then quickly found her voice while pressing slightly against the man's elbow and looping her arm around his.

"That was rather my point."
"You're a little young."
"Almost 17 next August." she raised an eyebrow and he finally turned to look at her, their eyes met.
"I know what you are." his voice a bare whisper, the girl's eyes widened and her feet shifted uncomfortably while she was held in his gaze. "You are looking at the wrong man. I do not wish you harm and neither does that young boy you told to meet you behind the inn in two hours."

If one were to watch closely a keen pair of eyes would have sworn the shadow flicker over the girl's face was not the result of some random candle splutter, it was too grey.

"I can't stop it. I ...n-need..." a dry husky voice sounded from the girl
"I know. But you've lost your way."
"Will you help me?"
"Nah sister, tis not my task. I would were it in me. Instead..." he motioned his fingers and flicked them towards a clutter of men where the sounds of banter and laughter lifted the inn's atmosphere noticeably. The girl looked in the direction and her eyebrows rose. "The man with the beard tied into bands."
"Why?" this time the voice sounded almost as if it eminated from the wind itself
"He beats his wife, has two illegitimate children from unions the mothers... do not wish to remember."
"Why would that concern you?"
"It just does. Don't need no other reason." The girl nooded sadly. "Next time I am in these parts little one, mayhap, I will be free to help you."

The girl forced a grin and a flash of teeth disapeared as she turned towards the group of men and joined them, swaying seductively to the calls and encouragement rowdy bunch.

Hiro drained his cup.
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

The "inn" is rather quiet tonight--many of those who might otherwise frequent it have been kept at home, or wherever they plan to spend the night, by the heavy weather. Even so, the main room is comfortably full of gamblers, drinkers, and those in search of other entertainments.

As Gertrude enters a tall, handsome middled-aged man in evening dress steps forward and addresses her in passable High Mordentish; only the relative darkness of his skin hints that he is a servant and not a patron here. "Can I be of any assistance, madame?" he says politely.
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Post by Pamela »

So this is what it's like, Gertrude thought as she entered Le Coq Noir. This wasn't the kind of place she'd ever frequented, abroad or at home, and she was slightly amused at the idea of coming here to look up an anchorite. Only in Souragne...

At the question, she raised the veil on her hat. “Yes, thank you…I’m trying to find Jeanne Larouche, and I wondered if she was in the Port tonight. I wondered if the proprietor might be here, and possibly inform me as to where I could find her. I am Professor Kingsley of the University of Paridon; I’ve had several interviews with her.”

Mind you, there aren’t that many Zherisian women in Souragne, so they’d probably know that…
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Post by steveflam »

George and Dadrag enter the Coq Noir Inn, looking around and head for a seat at the bar "Have you been here before?" George asks Dadrag in a low voice.

Ooc:If anyone offers to help them in any way, George will jsut ignore the servant and head for a seat at the bar, order a spirit and look around.
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Post by alhoon »

Draxton looking for Dadrag finally gets in the Cog Noir Inn. He spots Getrude first. He greets her with a short slight nod and a polite smile. The way someone would greet a passing aquintance that he has met a few days ago. No need to show that they were with each other so short ago, or that they intend to have business together.

Then he spots the ex assassin. A good thing to have him with them. Who knows, some of the brothers may need to have an "accident" of shorts. Nothing fatal of course, that would be incriminating and would draw attention. But swamps were supposed to have all kinds of diseases and toxins. Dadrag was both an assassin and a wilderness man. He could probably mix some debilating herb that would cause discomfort to any companion that seemed to be "over eager". And of course when traveling with that short of people, it is best to have someone with keen eyes check the Borcan in case Buchvold's hands "slipped" the wrong thing in Draxton's food.

Smiling he approaches Dadrag, thinking to cough in order to get his attention. A glimpse from Dadrag reminded him that he didn't have to. Dadrag was used to survey the whole area around him, even when in small talk with another man.
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