The Shattered City: Chapter Two

[DocBeard]

Tomas does not say anything to Devereux as he heads out; however, he does hang back for a second, and give the skinny man a quick hug, preferably in private, though Tomas will do anyone who catches him the decency of ignoring any questions or funny looks.

---

ONE TRANSITION LATER,

Tomas blinks, and is mildly worried that Cerise came up with a sensible, practical idea. He checks the rowboat over, just in case it happened to be haunted or on fire and the girl wasn't telling anyone. "Seems like a fair deal."

[Cronax]

Throughout the bulk of their walk over to the docks, Mr. Agale had scrutinized the commissioner's writ. To any observers, his means to this tasked bordered on the comical. He would alternately hunch over, scanning the document, then every once in a while perform a feat of slow motion juggling as he tucked the paper under one shoulder, removed a notebook from his attache, jotted down a few items, then reversed the procedure all while holding the aforementioned case in his other hand.

"That would be inadvisable Mr. Eisenwald." the Borcan chimed in. "Although we have been granted leave to engage in trespass, we have not been authorized to commandeer another vessel. We had best find the harbormaster or their designated night shift counterpart to arrange transportation."

Streetwise 13 to find such a person.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Might I recommend not giving our names, at least?" Lia, who has put on a mask of grey felt, suggests. "At any point where this might be reasonably avoided? And no chatter on personal subjects. Hide any distinctive jewellery or items you may possess, my friends. If we are going to do this, let us at least do it sensibly and not make enemies of the University." 'Before we absolutely have to,' she adds in thought, as she draws the folds of her cloak more closely about her.

[Nerit]

Nerit gave Cerise a dubious look that implied disapproval at her multicultural approach to protection.

When she next had the chance, she put a hand on Richard's elbow (it was impractical to reach up to his shoulder). Tonight was the night of the amiable nun, apparently.

"Everything all right, Richard?" she smiled, as if to say, whatever horrors we have faced and are about to face, I'm on your side, dear.

Also, Streetwise assist Mr. Agale: 16. Eh.

[yalenusveler]

"Cerise, you're making borrow sound awfully like steal and bring back later." Kerrian said, a bit boggled by the sheer amount of religious charms she was able to produce on a whim. If it was faith that served as a defense against the wicked, and not merely an object's shape, either she had rather wandering convictions or was in for a rude awakening.

"Also, if we do run into trouble. When I invoke my spirit guide, if we can afford for him not to have to get engaged, stick close to him. It's probably safer there." He said, finding the small carved totem that helped him channel his abilities, and clutching it tightly. It wasn't anywhere near the number of religious buffers as Cerise had, but for now it would have to do.

[Kaitou Kage]

"You may want the spear of the Lawgiver, too," Cyrus said graciously and offered Cerise a Lawgiver holy symbol he'd picked up in the Hazlani district. "His power abjures the walking dead."

The dommer wore a dark grey hooded cloak but still had his dark glasses on. He pushed them up on his nose and surveyed the Archeron. Unfortunately, his outfit did little to hide the large sword he carried everywhere.

Perception 26 on the boat, just seeing if I can catch a glimpse of who or what might be on deck and how many.

Also is it Archeron or Acheron? I've been seeing both now.

"Not a soul on board," Cyrus murmured, "At least not on deck. It seems quite deserted."

[NeoTiamat]

Docks, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Night of March 24th, 770
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"Hide any distinctive jewellery or items you may possess, my friends. If we are going to do this, let us at least do it sensibly and not make enemies of the University."

Cerise looked down at her fingers. She was wearing at least five rings, in addition to all her holy symbols (now including the Iron Spear), plus another two pendants, a brooch, a metal bracer, four assorted bangles and bracelets, and a nice pair of red earrings that matched her shoes. She made a valiant effort of removing some of them, but after a few minutes of agonizing just ended putting them all back on - any protective charms she took off now would invariably end up being needed later, and thus the whole ensemble remained. She settled for shoving her hands into the white fur muff and holding the muff in front of all her necklaces, giving Lia a winning smile.

Richard did his best to look less freakishly tall, but mostly ended up looking like a six foot hunchback. An embarrassed glance over at the tattooed, heavily armed Mulani and he straightened himself up again.

"Everything all right, Richard?" she smiled, as if to say, whatever horrors we have faced and are about to face, I'm on your side, dear.

"Ah..." Richard gave a bit of an bashful laugh. "It's, it's just Sis being Sis..." He looked down at Nerit, then at the rope he had coiled around his shoulder, before giving an honest-to-Ezra mischievous smile.

"Well, well I told her I, I was going with you!" he said, sounding both slightly guilty and like he was going to start laughing again. "If, if she chose not to believe me, well, that, that was very ill of her to do so!"

"Although we have been granted leave to engage in trespass, we have not been authorized to commandeer another vessel. We had best find the harbormaster or their designated night shift counterpart to arrange transportation."

While Agale did his best to lead you all onto Widow's Walk, Cyrus managed to spot a bobbing lantern further down one of the piers. The lantern turned out to be connected to a smallish sort of boat, of a sort that was unfamiliar to you. There happened to be a man on it, which gave it an advantage over the other boats currently tied up in the harbor. He didn't look like a harbormaster, in fact, he didn't look much like a sailor, instead bearing a heavy resemblance to the kind of pirates that appeared on the covers of novels. He was one of the handsomest men you'd ever seen, with a perfect smile and sparkling black eyes. He was, at the very least, dressed for the weather in a grey seal-skin coat, though they were accompanied by a black shirt and white pants that looked more like Richemuloise dinner party garb. Still, he had a boat, and you didn't, which made him a person of interest at the moment. The man seemed interested in you as well, taking a particular interest to the silver hoop earring Nicolas was wearing in his ear.

"Good evenin'," he said. Tomas recognized the accent as sounding slightly like those of the dwarves, which seemed rather peculiar.

[Cronax]

"Good evening to you as well sir," Agale responded diplomatically. "If you are not predisposed otherwise, we would like to charter your craft for an hour or two."

The Tollere peered over into the strange craft, trying to discern its make. Nothing local, he pondered. And in my geographical understanding, Vorostokov is land locked.

History 15 to know something about the craft.

[NeoTiamat]

Docks, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Night of March 24th, 770
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"Twenty silvers fhor each of you and I take you anywhere in Parnault Bay," the boatman said, with a winning smile. "Fhourty silvers and I take you both ways, and I wait fhor you to come back fhor at least a day."

Cerise grimaced at the price, trying to find some way to get to her money without taking her hands out of the fur muff. Richard offered the man four solars, but the faux-pirate shook his head. "Silvers, if you please," he replied, leaving Richard to start searching through his pockets for change.

"Any, anything we should know for, for when we get there?" he said casually as he picked through stray lunars, and a few Lamordian sables that some shopkeep had given him as bad change. He obviously didn't want to outright state their purpose in front of the boatman.

[DocBeard]

Tomas's brow furrows in confusion for a brief moment...something, off the tip of his tongue...

---

FIVE YEARS AGO, LOCATION UNKNOWN,

"So, let me get this straight." Tomas Eisenwald, sporting a scratchy blond beard and wearing a 'fro pick, looks disbelievingly at the other fellow in the room. "Your people used to be vicious marauders who would, when bored during the winter, paddle boats to other countries, set them on fire, and steal whatever wasn't nailed down."

The snaggle toothed caliban scratched his chin, closing his lower pair of eyes in concentration while the upper pair rolled in faint irritation. "Yes, Herr Eisenwald, that is correct. Would you like a hot towel?"

"Sure, I'm a little skanky." Tomas admits graciously, enjoying the faint feeling of steam on his face and continuing. "So to continue, if I am not incorrect, now for the most part it is 'out of your system'." Tomas eyes an ominously glowing rune, "And for the most part you are content to dominate trade along the Nocturnal Sea."

"For the moment, yes." The four-eyed caliban agrees, pouring Tomas a fresh cup of tea and smiling courteously. "Is there anything else I may answer for you, Herr Eisenwald, while we wait for Master Rottuk?"

"Could you unshackle my hands?" Tomas tugs experimentally on the chains binding him to the far wall of the room. "That tea looks wonderful!"

-----

NOW, SERIOUSLY WE JUST LEFT HERE,

"Graben!" Tomas snaps his fingers, "That's where that accent's from, ja? A wonderfully courteous people, best kidnapping I've ever experienced!" This enthusiasm is quickly doused, however, by the reminder of the mission at hand. Eisenwald just nods at Richard; this man would do exactly what he was paid to do, and proceed to sell any information dropped to anyone who might be interested. Best to just seem like dumb tourists. "Just keep an eye out for the view! Beautiful, this time of night, and you can't get this angle in the city."

[The Whistler]

Celeste was—surprisingly enough—not quite as weighed down by accessories as Cerise, having settled upon a set of relatively minimal silver stud earrings and a matching thin chain necklace.

Unfortunately, this was not all that Celeste was wearing. As you had heard her explaining as she ran upstairs to change, it was “just the item for the errand upon which we shall find ourselves…oh, to think that I should be privileged enough to don an épie-sur-bateau for its intended purpose! My second cousin Vivienne lodged for more than two weeks in Souragne, and she assures me that it is quite authentic…”

If an authentic “sneaking-onto-a-boat dress” ever existed, this could have been it, presuming that the designer had not prioritized sneaking onto a boat effectively. The best that could be said for it was that it was black, and relatively light on petticoat density; the worst that could be said for it was that it looked suspiciously like a Regency-era cocktail gown, supplemented by the requisite “sneaking-onto-a-boat pelisse” and “sneaking-onto-a-boat overcape”. Celeste had explained the low neckline by reminding you that secret naval reconnaissance was traditionally a nocturnal activity, which qualified the ensemble as eveningwear.

Currently, Celeste and her dress were appearing at the front of the crowd, brandishing the appropriate payment in a small bag.

"Just keep an eye out for the view! Beautiful, this time of night, and you can't get this angle in the city."

“Oh, quite true, sir, quite true! M. Boatman, we can only expect an enchanting experience from such a doughty craft.”

[yalenusveler]

Kerrian was almost taken aback for a moment. Not due to their situation, but mostly due to the fact that considering their previous encounter with folks nautical had involved someone who had seen better days. It had set a certain expectation that their current source of transport had shattered utterly.

Now, under usual circumstances, Kerrian would likely say something unsubtle that would give their purpose away. Apparently however, he had learned something. Or was simply too distracted giving their potential source of transport the sort of look one usually found within illustrated works catering to young Rokuma women with odd ideas about certain types of relationships.
Either way, he was keeping his mouth shut while fumbling for the appropriate coinage.

And that was a good thing, probably.

[Cronax]

"Twenty silvers fhor each of you and I take you anywhere in Parnault Bay,"

Agale gave the sailor an incredulous look and shook his head. "Four solars for the lot of us, take it or leave it. Now, if you decide to take it, I won't insult both of us by offering a premium for your discretion. I will however compensate you another two in a tenday if you'll produce a list of whomever comes buying your loose tongue later." With that offer on the table, the Tollere began to casually walk away down the dock as though he had no real necessity in hiring this particular craft.

Diplomacy 32 to negotiate.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

'Graben?' Lia thinks, eyes widening behind the mask as very different memories tickle her. Memories of a land of sand and merciless, pounding heat. Blood, screams, despair ... She does not quite shudder, but it's close. 'Graben!' she thinks again, with a bit more vehemence, eyes narrowing and shoulders growing taut now. In the folds of Lia's cloak, her fingers writhe a little, and there is a slight stirring beneath her hood as well.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Darius actually seems more at home conducting potentially bloody criminal investigations in the witching hour than he does on most occasions...whether it be past experience or the fact that the subtle tension in all of his movements finally fits the scene.

He stands well back from the rest of the group, hood up, pacing and staring toward the ship, for all the world as if he is considering just jumping in and swimming there. He nods approvingly to himself at Agale's attempt at negotiation; that's a year's worth of pay for a common laborer this brigand is trying to sweat out of them, and if it comes to that Darius would rather just take the rowboat and compensate the owner in the unlikely event it can't be returned safe and sound.