The Shattered City: Chapter One

Kaitou Kage · Post by **Kaitou Kage** » Tue Nov 10, 2009 11:28 am

Cyrus glanced at Nerit and smiled as if suggesting he'd enjoy her attempts to dismember him. Then he turned his attention toward Lia for a moment and smiled at her. There was something calculating in that smile and it lingered only a moment before he glanced to where Celeste and Thierri stood.

"I will come to chaperon your trip," he said, "If I feel generous, I may even strive not to offend the clergy at this church."

The smile never faded once.

Nathan of the FoS · Post by **Nathan of the FoS** » Tue Nov 10, 2009 3:16 pm

Darius pauses in his eating, swallows, and says in the general direction of Celeste and Thierri, "He's being funny. I'll just tell you now so you can get to recognize the signs. I think she is too," here he gestures vaguely at Lia. "Keep practicing, both of you," (now gesturing between Cyrus and Lia), "you'll work it out eventually."

Kaitou Kage · Post by **Kaitou Kage** » Tue Nov 10, 2009 3:51 pm

Cyrus sighed at Darius. "Good thing you have such a big mouth," he said, making his own way toward the dinner, "Otherwise you wouldn't be able to stuff your face like the pig you are."

DocBeard · Post by **DocBeard** » Tue Nov 10, 2009 4:47 pm

Tomas bites his tounge out of loyalty to Lia, but his estimation of Darius grows a little. Still, we'll see how the man is in the field.

"Okay, okay." Tomas holds his hands up. "If everyone knows where they're going tomorrow, let's all take a breath, maybe have some of M. Blackwood's soup, and get some sleep. I'm sorry I lost my temper."

Tomas looks like he's going to say something more for a moment, then moves away from Lia, heading for the stairs and, presumably, his room.

NeoTiamat · Post by **NeoTiamat** » Tue Nov 10, 2009 5:46 pm

The Falkovnian Embassy, Quartier Publique, Port-a-Lucine; March 11th, 770, 3:29 PM
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Falkovnian Embassy was located in the Quartier Publique, the central district of Dementlieu, home of sweeping boulevards, beautiful parks, elegant statues, and of course, public buildings by the dozen. Here the great and good of Dementlieu rode in carriages or walked with sticks and parasols, while mounted gendarmes padded through the streets. Beautiful fountains sprayed water into the air, which shimmered in the late winter light. Spring was in the air, the world was beautiful, and all was good. Or so one would believe after a quick walk down one of the Quartier's beautifully swept streets.

The Falkovnian Embassy itself would win no praises for architectural vision or elegance of form. It was undeniably a pretty building, painted white and with carved scrollwork bearing the Hawk of Falkovnia above the doorway, and a set of statues up atop the facade. Despite that though, it would be difficult to call the Embassy anything else but a short, stout fortress. A very pretty fortress, with painted shutters hiding the metal bars upon the windows, and delicate carvings to offset the solid, oaken construction of the door. For all it's prettiness though, this was not a building you would want to attack with anything less than a cannon.

The reception area had a similar feel to it, gilt and tassels upon a very businesslike sword. The two soldiers guarding the door were dressed in the dark brown uniforms of Falkovnia, trimmed with silver braid and shiny metal buckles. The longswords and hand-crossbows at their sides were singularly free of such fripperies however. The officer on duty, a lieutenant by the marks on his shoulders, greeted you with a look of cautious reserve. He looked to be about his mid-twenties in age, a fresh-faced youth with brown hair and a hint of fuzz on his cheeks.

"Guten tag." Prof. Lessard said with an amiability he probably didn't feel. "We'd like to speak with Ambassador Vedarrak."

"Do you have an appointment?" The officer said with just a touch of frost.

"I'm afraid not, but tell him that Eisenwald, Lessard, and Mournswaithe are here to speak with him. I'm sure he'll be willing to see us." Lessard said.

The lieutenant looked them over, then with a slight shrug, said. "I shall go and ask."

A few minutes later, the young officer returned, looking faintly bemused. "The Kommandant shall see you immediately."

Behind you, one of the two soldiers muttered something under his breath in the shared tongue of Lamordia and Falkovnia. LamordianOne woman already, why not two?. The other soldier snickered, but suppressed it as the lieutenant gave him a frosty glare.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Come in Lt. Jaeger." Some thing's hadn't changed a whit in nine years. Marcos Vedarrak's smooth, accent-less voice was one of them. The fresh-faced lieutenant opened the door, and without a wasted word, ushered you inside. The room turned out to be Vedarrak's private quarters, a quietly-decorated chamber with a few couches, a table, and a liqour cabinet against the wall.

"Tomas, Lia, Remy, it's been years." The Falkovnian too, had changed only a little. Marcos Vedarrak was still a man of average height, shorter than both Tomas and Remy by far, though broad-shouldered and musculars. The years had been good to him, and if he wouldn't see fifty again, he was still muscular enough to do the precise cut of his uniform justice. There were some wrinkles at the edges of Vedarrak's eyes now, and his hair had gone a kind of slate-grey, but that was to be expected. His icy, pale-blue eyes were the same, however, as was the onyx ring on his fingers. Vedarrak also now wore a decoration on his chest, a plain metal ornament fashioned into the shape of hawk, painted black and with silver outlines. "You haven't visited, you haven't written, I felt as though I'd been quite forgotten."

"Friends of yours?" The other person in the room asked. She was a very beautiful woman, an icy valkyrie of the north. Her features were perfect, if chill, with brilliant, nearly-white hair done up in a complicated arrangement down her back. She was dressed in pale blues and whites, contributing further to the image of frozen beauty, with a blue fan in one hand with which she demurely fanned herself. Only the valkyrie's eyes gave lie to the perfect illusion of ice, dark, sea-blue eyes, rich and liquid and fathomless, eyes which could steal a man's soul. One could fall forever into eyes such as that.

"Comrades-in-arms would be a better way to put it." Vedarrak said with a brief smile towards this cold beauty. There was an amused tone in his voice as he continued. "We fought together some time ago. In a very real sense, we owed each other our lives back then, at one point or another."

"More than friends, then. How very martial." The woman glanced at you casually, though something told you that a lot was contained in that lone glance.

"Indeed. Gentlemen, Lia, if I may introduce the Duchess Marie-Claudine von Auerbach. Marie, let me introduce you to Prof. Remy Lessard, Prof. Lia Mournswaithe, M. Tomas Eisenwald," Here Vedarrak paused. "And I fear I am not acquianted with the fourth gentleman. In any case, Tomas, Remy, Lia, tell me what brings you to my humble abode?"

Eglise Sainte-Madeleine, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; March 11th, 770, 3:29 PM
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the outside, Eglise Sainte-Madeleine's was neither imposing or terribly interesting. It was a plain grey chapel, barely visible above the shops and houses that surrounded it. Rain and the elements had worn down the outer walls, mottling the stone with streaks of grime. What looked like the beginnings of decoration had long since been given up on, leaving the church half-finished and uneven. It didn't even have proper windows, making do with small stone slits filled with cheap glass. Only a tall stone spire on the left side of the chapel offered the place any pretense of grandeur - and only a table full of knickknacks and tickets spoke of any life in the place.

"It isn't the fifth day, so there aren't any services in Dementlieu," Richard quietly mused, turning his Helpful Informational Pamphlet over in his hands as if it were some kind of foreign artifact. "Even so, it just, it just seems wrong to charge people to enter a church."

"The Eglise attracts far more tourists than parishioners," Thierri explained, casually holding the door open for everyone, though the way the group was walking prevented him from trying to shut the door in Cyrus face. "Eventually they wised up and decided to cut their losses."

"I, I still don't understand why that is-" Richard began, ducking slightly as he stepped through the doorway and in to the church. The pamphlet, unread, slipped through his fingers and landed on the brown tiled floor.

What lay within the chapel proved far more magnificent than the exterior. The stonework inside had been finished, with carefully carved alcoves and stone pedestals lining the smooth cut chapel. The simplicity of the interior seemed to grant it an ancient feel, in opposition to the run-down look you had seen from the outside. Two massive chalices flanked a stone archway, leading to the stairway down. Ornaments lined every wall and alcove as far as the eye could see. Huge chandeliers swung from the domed ceiling, as large and bedazzling as any you had seen in a noble's abode. At the very end of the chapel hall stood the altar, a massive affair, with the shield of Ezra emblazoned in the air above it. Here, inside, was all the finery and elegance that benefited a cathedral. What made this place unique was that the decoration was not made of gold, or silver, or stone, but human bone, carefully arranged into holy adornments.

"As I said, unique," Thierri smiled, with the look of a man who had just revealed a magic trick.

"And it's said that when the people couldn't afford to finish the chapel, Louis Caillaud saw Ste. Madeleine in a dream, telling him to take her sacred bones to use for the altar, as they would be holier than all the gilt and silver in the world," Cerise said in hushed tones, with an almost obscenely large grin on her face. "And once that was done, the faithful offered their own bones to be used after they were dead, so great was their devotion to Ezra..."

"That's what the pamphlet says anyway," she continued, louder, giving Richard a cheeky nudge. "I also heard they just stacked them up here because everyone was out of room to bury people. Of course, this place is tied into the catacombs, so you'd think there'd be plenty of room to just shove more bones into piles down there. No one wants to be buried down there, though, so maybe they all thought being a decoration would be better. Or maybe someone just stole some bones while no one was looking to spruce the place up. But isn't it great? I bet there's all kinds of fantastic ghosts crawling all over the place and oh shoot I forgot you're Mordentish!" Cerise clapped her hands over her mouth, her grin turning to one of mortified laughter as she backed away from where Richard was still staring at the macabre display before him. "I was just kidding about the ghosts! And I'm sure these were all volunteers and they were totally fine with being up here like this!"

Richard didn't seem to hear her. He stood silent, shaken and awestruck by the vision before him.

Rock of the Fraternity · Wed Nov 11, 2009 1:48 am

"Not so humble, Markos," Lia says, "you have clearly done well for yourself." She almost casually indicates Vedarrak's latest ornament, then sweeps her hand around to indicate the whole building.

Her gaze clings to the ice woman next, however. "How interesting to meet you, duchess Von Auerbach," she says. "I had heard of you, but I never expected to come face to face with the heiress of the famous Navarre shipping empirium."

'Trading the delights of your family home in the Sleeping Beast for the company of a political beast, are you?' the Mage thinks to herself as she extends her hand for the duchess to shake. 'Half-Lamordian, half Dementlieuse, as I recall. I wonder where your loyalties would lie if Falkovnia decides to attack Dementlieu, lady socialite.'

(OOC: This information brought to you by a Knowledge (History) check of 19.)

DocBeard · Post by **DocBeard** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 3:54 pm

We have dukes, now? Tomas thinks, remembering the name Navarre from a vitriolic argument of his sister's fiancee about the need to enforce tariffs on the Graben family's goods. He tuned the man out after he got to the complexities of supply and demand and how they must be used to protect the sacred culture of Lamordia which, as far as Tomas remembers, consists of a lot of sour cabbage, uncomfortably short pants, and sniffing at the other countries.

Shaking his head, Eisenwald crosses his arms, frowning like he was a grammar school teacher confronting a habitual schoolyard troublemaker. His head hurts to much to remember why exactly they are there, some thing about fancy parties and the insane nobles in this insane country. "Tag. Du est blume Falkfurhen?" Tomas drawls, trying not to feel uncomfortable in the tight, restricting fancy clothes the visit required.

yalenusveler · Post by **yalenusveler** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 3:59 pm

"How does this show devotion?" Kerrian finally asked, after taking a long look around the bone adorned chapel. "The people are gone. Anything that made them special or holy left with their spirit. What's left...is just an empty shell. It's never going to smile, or laugh, or share a moment with someone it cares about, or yell and fight with someone it hates. As long as it's not getting animated to attack people, or being eaten..who cares what happens? It's not a person, and it's especially not that person anymore."

He shook his head, looking at a candelabra a moment. "Everything that makes us us either joins with those who came before, or gets reborn again. This.." He gestured towards the ossic splendor of the chapel "It's beautiful..but in the end, it's made of nothing any different from what you or I will eventually leave behind. "

Kerrian sighed, and shrugged "So..why are we here, besides a plaster skull?" The look on his face suggesting he found the tourist trinkets..almost offensive in a way.

NeoTiamat · Post by **NeoTiamat** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 5:09 pm

The Falkovnian Embassy, Quartier Publique, Port-a-Lucine; March 11th, 770, 3:29 PM
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lia wrote:"Not so humble, Markos," Lia says, "you have clearly done well for yourself." She almost casually indicates Vedarrak's latest ornament, then sweeps her hand around to indicate the whole building.

"I'm a loyal servant of my country, Lia. Nothing more or less." Vedarrak said easily, running a finger unselfconsciously along the hawk-medallion. "All you see about you are the rewards of long service."

"Just long service?" The Duchess said mildly, sea-blue eyes sparkling darkly. "One would think that to accomplish so much would require other qualities besides longevity."

Vedarrak smiled and lowered his head, acknowledging the hit.

Lia wrote:"How interesting to meet you, duchess Von Auerbach," she says. "I had heard of you, but I never expected to come face to face with the heiress of the famous Navarre shipping empirium."

"Oh?" The Duchess von Auerbach raised one pale brow. "I hadn't imagined that my reputation had spread to quite so many areas of society. Well, life is full of such little surprises. I am charmed to make your acquaintance, Professor Mournswaithe."

"Tag. Du est blume Falkfurhen?" Tomas drawls, trying not to feel uncomfortable in the tight, restricting fancy clothes the visit required.

"As well as can be expected." Vedarrak spread his hands. "The Kingfuhrer grows old, and time is never kind. Nevertheless, I'm not so much the warrior that I would prefer not growing old."

"Of course, most of the diplomat's duty is to assure that more people can grow old in comfort. So I may be accused of a certain professional bias." The Falkovnian ambassador smiled briefly, reclining comfortably on the elegant couch. The onyx ring glistened in the lamplight as Vedarrak steepled his fingers. "How are the rest of the old band? I understand Martel has positioned himself rather nicely in Nevuchar Springs, give him and his lovely wife my best regards next time you speak."

The Whistler · Post by **The Whistler** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 6:22 pm

After a short squeal of surprise, Celeste was nearly as captivated by the display as Richard, though the ceiling-ward look was less awestruck than beatifically interested. It was the sort of gaze that one might direct at a picturesque fishing village, or a majestic alpine gorge (though with a lot less “walking around at random while looking upward” than a gorge might entail); the intense appreciation of a beautiful scene was there, but unencumbered by any particular need for fear or reverence.

“…My! How…ooh, how very Gothic! A most harmonious commingling of the macabre with the aesthetic…I well see how such a place must inspire fervent devotion amongst its congregation! Uniquely reminiscent of the architecture of Jephthath Bar-Ilan in his early period…I have never been to Gehenna in person, it must be said, but I have seen the most delightful lithographs. Travel to Zhukar is dreadfully inconvenient at present …”

M. Mauganson wrote:Everything that makes us us either joins with those who came before, or gets reborn again. This.." He gestured towards the ossic splendor of the chapel "It's beautiful..but in the end, it's made of nothing any different from what you or I will eventually leave behind. "

“Why, M. Mauganson, I do not know whether to judge you a materialist or a romantic! She smiled playfully at the Verbrekan, before turning to take in the altar in one more gaze. “But I shall be favorable, and ascribe to you the latter. While it may be tragic indeed to assert that these relics possess none of the essence of their former owners, how lovely by comparison is the accompanying idea: that the thinking-creature’s spirit is simply too singular to be bound by the body’s corporeal remnants? Oh, to think as such is to hold the loftiest possible opinion of the immortal soul!” She shivered pleasantly with the thought of it. “M. Mauganson, I must commend you for introducing the topic.”

M. Mauganson wrote:"So..why are we here, besides a plaster skull?"

“Oh, one need not have an aim, when one embarks upon an investigation—gracious, no!” Celeste chuckled lightly. “I have read novels upon the subject. One simply arrives at a location and awaits the unfolding of events! Why, at any moment, I fully intend to lean fortuitously against a hidden door-panel.”

Celeste’s look around the chapel for hidden door-panels yielded no results in the four seconds she allotted to it, so she decided to focus her attentions elsewhere.

NeoTiamat · Post by **NeoTiamat** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 6:46 pm

Eglise Sainte-Madeleine, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; March 11th, 770, 3:29 PM
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kerrian wrote:He shook his head, looking at a candelabra a moment. "Everything that makes us us either joins with those who came before, or gets reborn again. This.." He gestured towards the ossic splendor of the chapel "It's beautiful..but in the end, it's made of nothing any different from what you or I will eventually leave behind. "

"No, no..." Richard murmured, still staring at the shield of Ezra with his mist-grey eyes. "You assume their spirits are gone. I, no, I disagree, Mr. Mauganson. They showed devotion by, by giving everything they could give. It's, it's the act that lingers, not just the bone and spirit. Their love for this place remains. Perhaps they themselves watch over this place as well. It's beautiful." The Mordentishman ran his fingers through his hair, casting his eyes to the floor and giving a tempered smile. "But I suppose that's just, just how I feel about it."

"Eh-heh..." Cerise managed, still looking a bit mortified for having dragged a Mordentishman into a church full of skulls. "Well he has a point, Kerry, sometimes not everything passes on when something dies," she said in a low voice, mostly aside to Kerrian. "I mean, besides the fact Mordent has more ghosts than people. Have you ever heard of those Valacani lilies that are only supposed to grow where Yutow's blood fell? You can't transplant them anywhere else. And there's all kinds of research done into ancestor spirits and divine lineage and stuff. I know the Rajians believe there's a strong link between body and spirit, at least, that's what the paper I read said, which is why they have massage and meditative techniques. At least, I think that's what they're for, I've never thought very highly of Pépin's papers."

"The greater undead all maintain a semblance of their former life, if not more," Thierri added vaguely, staring at the bone chapel with a deep intensity. "Can it be said that these creatures have souls? Or is there more power in blood and bone than simply housing the spirit?"

"Er, anyway, just... think of this place as a kind of totem, I guess." Cerise took another look at the place and amended, "A really really big totem."

"Be it graveyard or totem or chapel, this place is holy ground," Richard said, with a frown. "Such a thing shouldn't have to be, to be bought."

Celeste wrote:“Why, M. Mauganson, I do not know whether to judge you a materialist or a romantic! She smiled playfully at the Verbrekan, before turning to take in the altar in one more gaze. “But I shall be favorable, and ascribe to you the latter. While it may be tragic indeed to assert that these relics possess none of the essence of their former owners, how lovely by comparison is the accompanying idea: that the thinking-creature’s spirit is simply too singular to be bound by the body’s corporeal remnants? Oh, to think as such is to hold the loftiest possible opinion of the immortal soul!” She shivered pleasantly with the thought of it. “M. Mauganson, I must commend you for introducing the topic.”

"M. Mauganson is not inclined towards fancy," Thierri said, a gleam in his eye and a fey smile on his lips. "You do these remains a disservice. Nothing inside them remains, and yet, is that not what makes them so fascinating? This skull was a living being, a mother, a father, a good man, a villain, a baker, a noble, a man who collected lockets or a woman who hated mushrooms. Now they are all equal in their emptiness. What stands before us is a testament to the one absolute truth in the universe."

Kerrian wrote:Kerrian sighed, and shrugged "So..why are we here, besides a plaster skull?" The look on his face suggesting he found the tourist trinkets..almost offensive in a way.

The Whistler wrote:“Oh, one need not have an aim, when one embarks upon an investigation—gracious, no!” Celeste chuckled lightly. “I have read novels upon the subject. One simply arrives at a location and awaits the unfolding of events! Why, at any moment, I fully intend to lean fortuitously against a hidden door-panel.”

"Ooh, yes," Cerise said, with unreasonably genuine glee. "And we'll have to make sure we wander into every dark corner and alleyway, too! That's where all the good clues are. Richard, you have to wander around alone so if there's any monsters around they'll chase after you and not the rest of us. You're too innocent looking to die, so you'll be okay."

"I what?" Richard said, his perplexed wide-eyed look only proving Cerise right.

"We are here purely because of the skull," Theirri said dully. "It was the only lead our suspect deigned to leave behind, save for a crude symbol of Ezra - which would also point to this place."

yalenusveler · Post by **yalenusveler** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 7:08 pm

Kerrian listened to the counter-arguments made to his rather materialistic assessment of the cathedral. And they did all have very good points. And then Cerise mentioned the word totem, and it was as if a light had just been lit.

"A Genius Loci created by focusing devotion onto one place, bound totemically there by the remains of the people so devoted." He began to look around at the place, as seeing it again through new eyes, after shooting a look to Cerise to ensure that he was using the words right. The books she had loaned him could get a bit dense after all.

"I wonder if I could talk to it...would it have their voices, or its own.."

DocBeard · Post by **DocBeard** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 7:39 pm

Eisenwald responds to this by wittily crossing his arms, not being so socially inept as to miss the threat to Charles and his family-his silence will, hopefully, buy him Vedarrak's continued belief that there is only a husband and wife involved, there.

Eisenwald looks over at Agale, but decides to let the mystery man introduce himself. Guy might have a different alias for formal occasions, after all.

yalenusveler · Post by **yalenusveler** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 8:35 pm

Kerrian had continued to think about the possibility of the Chapel as Totem for a few more moments, before turning to Celeste "Could..you distract the caretakers here? I'm going to need twenty minutes...maybe a half hour. It takes a while chewed, and I doubt you can smoke here. Or should."

"And you're right Richard, and I'm wrong. I was thinking about the individual people. But I was being stupid. Everything that made them individually them is probably gone, but what made them them as a group..isn't. It's community."

He then paused a moment, for breath if not anything else. "And you're right and maybe wrong Thierri. They were empty, but maybe...maybe now they're not."

Kerrian then shot Cerise a look suggesting that this was a crazy idea, she was a genius, and she was possibly going to get to see some shamanic ritual in action. In an Ezrite chapel.

Wasn't Ecumenism grand?

Kaitou Kage · Post by **Kaitou Kage** » Wed Nov 11, 2009 10:42 pm

"How utterly macabre," Cyrus drawled as he surveyed the church from behind his dark glasses. He paused beside one of the pillars and looked it up and down, then glanced over to Celeste.

"Your expectations are charming, and perhaps it will turn out this way," he said, smiling. "If it does, I applaud your detective work."

The dommer idly walked around the pillar. "It will be difficult to find who bought that one skull, but perhaps we will find a lead." He turned toward the others. "Who keeps this chapel now? Without knowing the buyer's appearance or identity it will be difficult to find her. But, Lawgiver willing, we will find a lead the sooner we talk to someone."

Café de Nuit

Welcome, friends, to our establishment.

The Shattered City: Chapter One