Maison de Soulombre, morning of April 11

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Nathan of the FoS
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Maison de Soulombre, morning of April 11

Post by Nathan of the FoS »

The rain has ceased, although the overcast remains, and the air is cool and pleasant as day breaks over Marais de Tarascon. The Fraternity members now in the village will have about two hours to make their trip to the Maison de Soulombre; it is unlikely they will be able to find carriages able to take them, given the condition of the roads, but they have been told that a trip by horseback is feasible--if they do not choose to avail themselves of less conventional means of transport.
Last edited by Nathan of the FoS on Wed Dec 12, 2007 2:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Draxton's here!

Post by alhoon »

Draxton rides on his horse for much of the way, not really refreshed after yesterday's terrible night. What really happened to him? Was he loosing his grip? Becoming mentally unstable after years of scheming and practicing magic?
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

As the group of those deputized to visit Chicken Bone returns, the early morning sunlight gleams weakly through intermittent gaps in the dispersing overcast. It seems as though the day will be unpleasantly hot and muggy as the day goes on, but it is still pleasant--if rather damp--at this hour.

As you pass the strange black staves of the security perimeter, the door of the Maison de Soulombre opens and Brother Lorenz and Father Mikkelson emerge, walking down the gravel drive to meet you.

"Brothers. Sister," Mikkelson says, nodding. "Have you any news for us?"
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Post by alhoon »

Draxton watches the Father without speaking, waiting for Crow to give the report.
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Post by Rotipher of the FoS »

alhoon wrote:Draxton watches the Father without speaking, waiting for Crow to give the report.
[OOC: Sorry, but Crow's alter-ego has a towering stack of Finals to grade right now. Could somebody else have a go at being the orator, for a change? :wink: ]
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Post by eocine »

Li Shou's eyes had opened and he had stepped out of his dream fully alert and entirely awake, in normal people this kind of instant awareness only manifested in times of extreme danger, but for him it was a normal morning. It had actually taken some time and concerted effort to reach this point, where one is immediately alert and ready for action, but it was meditative time that had been, to his mind at least, well spent, for you never truly knew when there might be a night of long knives waiting to claim you as you slept.

The ‘tent’ that he slept in was, compared to those of most of the other guests, a rather curious contraption, standing easily high enough for him to stand and stretch in, and seemingly being composed of two entirely different layers, the first that came up to his shoulders and the second a dome that peaked at about eight feet high. Originally he had intended on hiring a room, but had almost immediately had second thoughts over the potential cleanliness of the place, so he had instead made these arrangements, and far more pleasurable they had been.

Taking up a small brass poker he jostled the coals back into life in the central brazier, before picking up an ornate bottle containing distilled vinegar and several herbs, carefully he poured some of the contents on the coals, and instantly a cloud of sharply acrid smoke rose upwards. Shortly though the vinegary smell evaporated, and the higher herbal notes came through, scenting the air within the tent.

Once this had been completed he picked up a large bowl of water that he’d drawn yesterday and placed it on the brazier, waiting till it was sufficiently warm before using the contents to wash himself. This done he pulled on fresh clothing and stepped out into the morning, strapping his ceremonial sword to his hip as he did so.

The fact the skies were merely overcast made a pleasant enough change to the rains, and he stepped out into the morning with slightly more spring in his step than was perhaps usual for him. There were few enough people around at this point, and frankly even had it been crowded it would have been unlikely that he would have made conversation anyway, thus it was not really a surprise that he didn’t stop to overhear nor listen to the group of Brother’s who had been approaching the door of the Maison at the same time he was.

He swept past them and into the building, scarcely sparing a backwards glance.
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

Rotipher of the FoS wrote:
alhoon wrote:Draxton watches the Father without speaking, waiting for Crow to give the report.
[OOC: Sorry, but Crow's alter-ego has a towering stack of Finals to grade right now. Could somebody else have a go at being the orator, for a change? :wink: ]
OOC: Anyone? Anyone?....Ferris?
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Post by Pamela »

Gertrude gave a small curtsey to the two approaching Fraternity members, then smoothed her skirts. She’d had a long bath to wash off the grime of the past few hours; it seemed as if the dampness still clung to her pores. At least it’s not hot yet…. She’d worn brown this morning, and had packed a change of clothing just in case another storm descended that kept her away from the inn.

“Our journey was successful and interesting,” she remarked, keeping her voice low. “Do you wish an account here, or…?”
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Post by Rotipher of the FoS »

Standing a little behind his companions, having paused to make use of the front entryway's boot-scraper, the bard glances up from divesting his footwear of mud. He nods toward the exotically-clad foreign Brother who has just brushed past their party, and bows to the yellow-eyed Father:

"Yes, a more ... unobtrusive venue may be prudent, sir. If only to avert unwarranted speculation among the Brethren, should our words be half-heard in passing."

He pauses, blinks, looks past Lorenz and Mikkelson toward the Maison's entrance. His voice falls softer still:

"But, gentlemen ... is Brother Roeccha not available? Surely it would save time and talk, if we relate our errand's outcome to the one who dispatched us upon it, as well. And he, too, should most likely hear our account before your panel presentation this morning," he bows again, this time to Lorenz," as our experiences may have a bearing on the discussion to come."

And I, for one, won't be caught telling tales out-of-turn, to anyone but the shalach-ti. Not knowing how many coils of conspiracy lie within this viper's nest, however often its serpents might speak of "brotherhood"...
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

"Brother Roeccha is within," Mikkelson replies briefly. "Brother Lorenz, if you would be so kind as to escort them. I must speak with Brother Hazan briefly."

Nodding, the huge Lamordian gestures you forward. "We are meeting upstairs," he says, gesturing. "In the room in which we were examined yesterday. Left at the top."

Allowing the four of you to precede him, he brings up the rear. The chairs in the room have been rearranged to form two rough semicircles, four on one side, four on the other; Brother Roeccha is there already, looking out of a window, and the Countess von Lovenhorst is also present, writing at a small table. Turning, Roeccha sees you enter.

"Good," he says flatly. "Back safe and sound, I see. Please be seated."

The Countess finishes her sentence and turns to you as well, nodding at Gertrude and sparing a cool glance for the rest of the group. Lorenz has entered behind you and seated himself; a few moments later Mikkelson also comes in and takes charge of the proceedings.

"A full report, if you please," he says, smiling his eerie smile. "What have you learned, and how did you learn it?"
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Post by Rotipher of the FoS »

Settling in one of the chairs, which he once again turns sideways to make way for his instrument-case, the bard briskly assesses his companions' demeanor. As at the Maison's entryway, Serd remains stubbornly mute -- understandably so, given the nature of the "bargain" the Richemuloise will soon have to admit to, like it or not -- and neither he nor Buchvold is likely to exercise sufficient delicacy of speech for this debriefing, in any case. Kingsley, by contrast, seems eager to display her personal expertise regarding the loa ... come to think of it, the VRS spy wouldn't mind learning what she thinks was afoot last night, as well!

Still, she is a very junior member amongst the Brethren. And letting her speak first would both diminish "Brother Crow's" image as a man of initiative, in Roeccha's eyes, and leave the professor in a position of vulnerability, should the Fraternity officers be dissatisfied with their errand's inconclusive results. Better to take the lead himself, if only for a moment, and properly preface the Lady Scalpal's discourse.

"Sir ... gentlemen, Your Ladyship," Crow replies, addressing first the Father and then all four. "The lessons of our night's sojourn would best be explained by one who has studied the... forces concerned, in great depth, these past months." He nods to Kingsley, deferring to her scholastic expertise in these matters. "Certainly, much of what we stood witness to is explicable only through insight, not by observation alone ... and, if our host was to be believed, further insights could yet be forthcoming."

The bard's hands come together, and his slim fingers toy with the viper-ring he wears, idly turning it round and round; perhaps his musician's digits have remained apart from strings too long?

He turns to Kingsley, and gestures in deferral with open palm, ceding the floor to her. "Professor...?"



[OOC: Crow's taking the heat off the professor here (if he can) by hinting that there's more information to come than what we actually heard from Chicken Bone. Neither he nor Buchvold have benefited from the help of the loa yet, so he suspects that there's more spirit-intervention yet to come.

[He'll be gauging the four officers' reactions to whatever is said here, of course ... and, if he can, whether any of what's said isn't a surprise to these four. :wink: ]
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Post by Pamela »

Gertrude was nervous over the coming report; there was still a lot that she didn’t understand about last night’s encounter: why had the lizardmen appeared? Had Crow and Buchvold had any ‘intercessions’ since they’d parted ways? What would Roeccha make of their answer- and possible lack thereof?

Outwardly though, she was her usual prim self, with a touch of impatience at the imposition and delay in her plans to enjoy the rest of the day. She made an unobtrusive curtsey to the Countess before taking the proffered seat. She clasped her hands together and gave a quick glance to Crow. If she trusted anyone besides herself to present the affair well, it would be the bard.

She smiled at Crow’s gracious words, then rose to her feet. She reached into the small purse that she had brought along, and pulled out a small notebook. She’d taken the opportunity to jot down her impressions and notes; she didn’t want the elder Brothers’ disconcerting presence to hamper her recollections in the moment.

She curtseyed fully to the gathering. “Brothers, Sister; I will try to keep this as brief and concise as possible since I am aware of the day’s busy schedule.” She straightened up, and brought up the notebook, using it as a reference as she began her account.

“I took it upon myself to find a guide, as I was best acquainted among my colleagues with the locals. The gentleman I hired was informed of the need for discretion, and that for all our sakes, I would avoid any introductions; in return, I would not be naming him to my colleagues. You will forgive me if I refrain from naming him,” she said apologetically, “But I am a woman of my word, and I was able to conduct my business without falling upon this.” She reached into her pocket, and produced the mysterious coin, which she then returned to her pocket. She hoped they would let her keep it, but she was not going to pretend to its use.

“Brother Buchvold brought along a hired man, and Brother Serd two. Brother Crow was fortuitous and thoughtful enough to purchase a collection of items that would be useful in any potential encounters in the swamp, and against the traitor’s allies, such as antitoxin and holy water. We proceeded to the abode of a swampfisher who was familiar with Chicken Bone’s whereabouts. Our journey there was uneventful.” Apart from the bickering oafs…

“The voodan lives in a treehouse, which is located high up in the branches. The escort stayed below while our guide made the necessary introductions- which did not involve names. We presented Chicken Bone with the ring, merely asking if he might be able to help us identify its owner. Our guide did not see the object, and I requested his departure before the matter could be discussed any further, wishing to spare all parties any potential discomfort or problems. I had trusted in my knowledge of Souragnien to enable us to converse; it turned out that the voodan had a decent understanding of High Mordentish.”

The professor turned to Buchvold, inclining her head as she continued. “Brother Buchvold informed the voodan that we sought information on the man who’d last possessed the ring. The voodan announced that he was able to fulfil our request.” Another small smile, as she looked down at her notebook. “We were informed that we would be required to perform a service for the loa who come. We were told that if we did not… ‘get the thing for which you ask, you do nothing. But if you receive, the bill comes due.’ We were given the option of having one individual 'pay' for the group, or all of us individually. We chose the latter.”

She frowned now, as she considered how she was to convey the awe of the moment to a group well-known for its disdain for the religious. She gave up and continued. “A drop of blood was drawn from each of us for the sake of the ritual. The voodan then led us each to stand upon a veve: Brother Crow was taken to Brambei’s; Brother Buchvold, Tonthomba’s; Brother Serd, Ohuwaghnn; and myself, to Lethede. An offering was made of rum and a rooster; the ring presented.

“The voodan briefly manifested Ohuwaghnn, the Serpent King, who said in Souragnien, “Your servant.” This was quickly followed by the manifestation of Brambei. He directed his remarks to Brother Crow; they were…” Another glance at the notebook. “Very beautiful ring but very cold. A ring like this always makes a mark. He who has eyes to see, let him see! That's my gift; do you accept it?” She smiled wanly at the bard. “Our good brother accepted it.”

Her gaze was distant as she continued. “We were informed that Lethede was also present, and that I would know which path to take at the crossroads if I were willing to accept the gift. I fortunately accepted. Brother Buchvold was offered ‘luck, the fighting spirit and fire’, which he accepted. Lethede and Tonthomba did not make an actual appearance; the bargains were made through Brambei.”

She turned to raise an eyebrow at Serd before she continued. “Brother Serd however was graced with another face-to-face manifestation of the Serpent King, who informed him that he would pay ‘in service and not in blood’- something not offered to the rest of us. He was told that Ohuwaghnn’s servants would assist him, and he accepted the bargain.” She then smiled sweetly at Serd as she said, “I may not have Brother Serd’s vaunted diplomatic skills, but I do have an excellent memory. He worded his acceptance, ‘I hope the deal remains between me and you or whover else I decide to trust. I wouldn't like my friends and allies to worry about my obligations, as they are my burden to carry.’ I was touched by his thoughtfulness and generousity.”

The Zherisian closed her notebook and held it between her hands as she continued. “The voodan then returned to his senses, and dismissed us, stating that we had been granted our services. He kept the ring as payment.” Another incline of her head to the inquisitors, this time in apology. “As we were not given further instructions about the ring, we did not feel it necessary to protest this payment.

“Our return saw the commencement of the satisfaction of our requests. Lizardmen attacked us, seriously injuring our boat’s pilot and harming our guide. Brother Serd became the host of a rather magnificent manifestation of the Serpent King, outdoing even the voodan’s. I fear however that the manifestation rather addled our Brother’s senses even after the physical manifestation had faded away. He seemed to forget his earlier promise and is intent on demanding payment from all of us, for his voluntary service.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I am sure that he has had a few hours to recollect himself.”

“As we prepared to move forward with our incapacitated swampfisher, I noticed that the moonlight’s reflection was arcing unusually through the waters.” Again she seemed to peer into the distance. “I was personally unaware of any sense of dislocation of my personality or of time. I may be incorrect; perhaps my colleagues noticed moments when I did not seem myself. I will add however that if any such possession did occur, it did not disturb our journey in any way, and we arrived safely back at Marais d’Tarascon without event.”

“Two of the loa have granted us the promised services; two have not. I confess that I am unsure as to how Brother Buchvold’s might manifest in relation to this mission. I feel however that if you seek any further information on the one who’d previously held the ring, we must wait to see if the Oracle will grant his promised favour to Brother Crow…” She turned with a pale face towards the bard, wondering what, if anything would happen. She took her seat and waited.
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 »

Pamela wrote: “I may not have Brother Serd’s vaunted diplomatic skills, but I do have an excellent memory. He worded his acceptance, ‘I hope the deal remains between me and you or whover else I decide to trust. I wouldn't like my friends and allies to worry about my obligations, as they are my burden to carry.’ I was touched by his thoughtfulness and generousity.”
Draxton just smiled knowningly nodding his head understanding what was going to follow.
Pamela wrote: "I fear however that the manifestation rather addled our Brother’s senses even after the physical manifestation had faded away. He seemed to forget his earlier promise and is intent on demanding payment from all of us, for his voluntary service.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I am sure that he has had a few hours to recollect himself.”
Draxton just smiled here, noticing a loophole. He didn't hide the fact that he was rather pleased the way Kingsley expressed the bargain.
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

Pamela wrote: She turned with a pale face towards the bard, wondering what, if anything would happen. She took her seat and waited.
The senior Fraternity members do not interrupt Gertrude's synopsis of the evening's activities, although significant glances pass between them at several points--most notably, when she recounts of their handing van Rijn's ring over to the aged voodan.

"So..." Mikkelson says, consideringly. "You have spoken with Chicken Bone. You have been, let us say, invested with loa, who have promised to act as tutelary spirits in achieving your goal. You gave the ring to Chicken Bone but were not obligated to display your token. But you have not, as yet, learned anything concrete and practicable about the identity or nature of our visitor. Is that correct?"
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Post by Pamela »

Gertrude nodded her head in agreement at each stated point, but held her tongue. Let the others take their turn; she had said all that she could, and had nothing positive to offer at this point.

She turned back to Crow. He was the only one who could refute the implicit criticism by revealing whether the loa still had any intention of fulfilling the rest of their bargains.
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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