The Shattered City: Chapter Three

[NeoTiamat]

Chateau Malchance, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Morning of April 21st, 770
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Shaking his head(After all, it was a bit silly talking to his sword.), Tomas shamelessly starts reading over Remy's shoulder. "Remember the last time we were in Barovia, mich freuind?" Tomas asks quietly, smirking boyishly at the idea of such frivolity as that little adventure.

"Ah, Ravnika, there's a town I won't ever forget. The singing, the dancing, the friendly people we met there. My roommate kept stealing my toothbrush, though," Professor Lessard wistfully recalled, still reading his newspaper, or at least holding it in front of his eyes. "And he snored like a walrus."

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"Why ever would someone want to create such a thing? If this business with the University is any indication, keeping ordinary elementals under control is tough enough. Why add the risks of necromancy to the mix for no practical benefit over a more conventional conjured servant?"

"Fallaces sunt rerum species*, Mr. Agale." Professor Lemercier said, examining his third piece of toast philosophically before eating it. "Necromancy as a discipline contains its own inherent restraints, which the wise necromancer can use to reinforce control of an otherwise recalcitrant elemental. Wise necromancers being a rare commodity, the more common reason is to alloy the natural fury of the elemental with the hunger and hunting instinct of the undead, creating a predatory entity who's ferocity is not as short lived as an elemental's passing wrath."

"Why do you ask?"

"Allow me to present a further hypothetical," Thierri began, in a manner seemingly ignoring the question. "A creature made of earth, shaped in the form of a massive hound, with dead flesh and bones jutting from its sides. It burrows in the earth and entombs those it catches underground. Though it is easily capable of killing, it instead lets its prey linger in whatever agony it can inflict upon them. It is not my habit of assigning motive where there is none - this elemental is a creature of deliberate and malicious intent."

"I am aware of the multiple intricacies of elementalism," the magician said, a dark look glowing in his eyes. He tapped a pack of cigarettes against his wrist to take one out. It took him several tries. "It is undead. This is certain."

*Ancient DarkonianThe appearances of things are deceptive.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"That sounds like either a grave elemental or a necromental, to be sure," Lia says, her own eyes taking on an unpleasantly penetrating aspect as she narrows them at Thierri. "Now. Kindly explain how you come by this supposed hypothetical and why do you ask?"

[NeoTiamat]

Chateau Malchance, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Morning of April 21st, 770
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"Now. Kindly explain how you come by this supposed hypothetical and why do you ask?"

"A weird, actually." Professor Lemercier commented mildly, digging into the remainder of his breakfast, or until it was time for the second breakfast in any case. "Grave elementals do not, as a general rule, need sustenance, while necromentals are much more direct creatures. From what you describe, this creature intentionally caused psychic trauma to the height of its abilities, which is the defining mark of a weird."

"The purpose of a hypothetical, madame professor, is precisely that it is not something one must 'come by,'" Theirri said, looking wholly unamused. "The beauty of a question is that it can exist solely within the realm of the mind, to allow further understanding without the need for direct experience. To presume that it must be based upon a physical experience is to deny the entirety of the human condition."

The young man lit the cigarette, staring off into the air as it burned between his teeth. "A man was attacked by the creature described. He escaped. He is ill with the plague, most have passed it off as delirium, but rumors are beginning to spread." The magician leaned forward, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "If it became believed that elementals were being purposefully loosed upon civilians, things would become very bad for anyone that dared to practiced magic, summoner or not."

Insight DC 23

[lostboy]

"Sounds delightful" Nicholas pronounces as he finsihes his coffee, setting the cup down gingerly on the table. The poet still looked like he was gogin to be sick at any moment but the dose of caffeine had at least returned the power of speech and some form of mental faculties.

"And the gendarmerie pays no creedance to these claims?" He adds inquiringly before taking a tentative bite of some toast.

Insight 14

[yalenusveler]

I have always made it my business to help anyone I can who is in need. And who could argue with that? I'm sure that some of those ill-minded anarchists will do their best to paint it ill, but I believe that shows a certain meanness of spirit that is quite ingrained. Are we to let such people to dissuade us from helping others? I certainly think not!"

"I just don't want to see your civic mindedness and benevolence of spirit make you a target." Kerrian said. On one hand, Madame Loiseau was overbearing in the extreme, and certainly an acquired taste. On the other, she genuinely wanted to help. There was definitely something commendable about that.

"I don't want to be the grim one this morning, but I know you move in social circles I don't..did you know the Astier family?" Kerrian inquired of Madame Loiseau. The brutality of the attack was..shocking, and seemed rather beyond the pale even for the anarchists. And if the Madame Loiseau knew anything of the family..well it would make investigations a good bit easier.

[DocBeard]

"That's all?" Tomas asks, cracking his knuckles and deciding to give those hiding in the kitchen another minute before barging in to procure breakfast. "My roommate kept trying to sneak a girl in and wouldn't just ask me to stay outside for a few hours. Well, a few minutes."

Kerrain's comment dulls Tomas's good humor, as he reads over the article. The fact that That Woman died before he could kill her incites the sort of rage in Tomas normally reserved for epic Voros sagas of endless cycles of familial vengeance broken by the fury of an innocent man caught in the middle of it all, but it hasn't quite sunk in yet. Tomas is saving the fury for later, like some sort of anger camel.

"If your...thing needs extra security." Eisenwald finds himself saying instead, "I can stand around un look menacing for a few hours, no problem."

[Kaitou Kage]

"So is this the charity ball that I've heard about?" Cyrus asked. He set his empty plate on an end table and sat down in an armchair.

"If you could spare some of the proceeds," he said and smiled, "The Lawgiver, in His infinite wisdom, guided my brother and I to open a charity house earlier this month. We provide food and shelter to the poor and unfortunate souls that need it in this city. That's where we've been in the afternoons lately."

The dommer raised his brows speculatively at Madame Loiseau. "The people would be grateful."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"This attack seems to point all too neatly to Dr. Poincare and her cronies," Lia says, her eyebrows drawing down. "A question of some importance occurs -- how, exactly, did this victim escape when others were entombed and slowly tormented to death?"

[Cronax]

What a difference a few drops of percolated Hazlani robusta and a half scone could make. Somewhat restored to his faculties, Mr. Agale eyed Thierri critically. He shakes his head, "That is hardly conclusive Ms. Mournswraith. Mr. Boucher was not with us on the night we confronted the doctor and it is a bit of a stretch to believe that she or her cohorts would target him instead of one of us."

He took another draw of coffee and glanced sidelong at Thierri, sizing up the huckster. "Now that we've firmly established that this is an entirely hypothetical attack, where, hypothetically might it have occurred?"

Insight 24

[The Whistler]

"If you could spare some of the proceeds," he said and smiled, "The Lawgiver, in His infinite wisdom, guided my brother and I to open a charity house earlier this month. We provide food and shelter to the poor and unfortunate souls that need it in this city. That's where we've been in the afternoons lately."

Celeste looked pleased at this admission--and mildly surprised, to boot. Whether this last was because she was impressed at the significance of Cyrus' project, unaware that he was "that kind of priest", or just unaccustomed to charitable intentions in a person who had sometimes transparently hit on her...well, that was debatable. You weren't sure whether Celeste was capable of having low expectations of anybody, though, so it was probably best to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Why, Dommer Isfahani--what a singularly benevolent undertaking! I have always maintained that one must remain ecumenical when charity is in the offing: we Ezrites have no such monopoly on the like. Do say that you will alert me if you need additional volunteers--I should be most happy to contribute either time or money, and I am certain that I have friends who would do the same!"

[Nathan of the FoS]

Darius has been listening to the conversation going on among the arcane experts of the household with interest, while simultaneously scanning the morning news and demolishing his breakfast; setting down his fork, he says, "You are very insistent that this is a hypothetical, monsieur, but when you couple such a statement with a phrase like 'It is undead, I am certain...well, I wonder. It is not usually necessary to assert one is certain of the conditions of his own hypothetical."

This with an ironically raised eyebrow.

Turning to Lia, he continues, "As to your question, mademoiselle professor, perhaps the victim did not escape, but was released...to spread his tale, and perhaps his illness."

To Thierri, again, "This hypothetical plague victim whose hypothetical illness is starting so many rumors...could it be connected to this presumably factual story about our erstwhile prisoner in the Observateur?" Darius flicks his finger at the notice of Anne-Marie's death at the bottom of the first page and slides the broadsheet over to Thierri for his perusal.

[NeoTiamat]

Chateau Malchance, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Morning of April 21st, 770
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"If your...thing needs extra security." Eisenwald finds himself saying instead, "I can stand around un look menacing for a few hours, no problem."

"Stand around and look menacing? What ever are you talking about?" Madame Loiseau fluttered, or at least would have if a woman of her stature was capable of fluttering. This was more of a flap. "Why, I must say you are a very fine looking young man, hardly any slouch at all, and I must say your diction is quite good. If it's a matter of clothes, my dear, you don't have to worry about a thing. And how could you simply stand around at a ball? All of the people and the dancing-!"

"Tomas doesn't dance at balls," Remy interrupted, turning the page on his newspaper. He had flipped through the entire thing twice at this point. "He steals all the ladies' hearts and has to fight duels over it the next morning. The last time he tried it every single man in the town challenged him. They had to form a line nearly half a mile long."

"Oh!" Loiseau exclaimed, putting a hand to her chest. "Well, I certainly would understand you sitting out, then. Port-a-Lucine is much bigger than most provincial towns."

"I don't want to be the grim one this morning, but I know you move in social circles I don't..did you know the Astier family?" Kerrian inquired of Madame Loiseau.

"Well!" Madame Loiseau huffed, looking for all the world like a fussy hen. "I certainly would never speak any ill of the dead, you know, but they weren't really my kind of society. Mages," she added, inflecting the word much like you would the word "serial killers" or "Falkovnians".

"If you could spare some of the proceeds," he said and smiled, "The Lawgiver, in His infinite wisdom, guided my brother and I to open a charity house earlier this month. We provide food and shelter to the poor and unfortunate souls that need it in this city. That's where we've been in the afternoons lately."

The dommer raised his brows speculatively at Madame Loiseau. "The people would be grateful."

"Why M'sieur, what an absolutely exquisite idea. It is precisely what the people of Dementlieu need now, to have their bodies and their souls ministered by the religious, even if you are Hazlani." Madame Loiseau said with the same strident volumes she brought to everything. "Oh, just say the word, and I shall most certainly do everything in my power to aid you and see to it that the poor are given every consideration. I never did like the cooks in the Hospice of Hala, you know, or the curtains. I think a little bit of taffeta could just do wonders to a place. Oh! And promise me you'll have some of those delightful Hazlani rugs. My hear friend Harriet has one in her foyer and it is simply remarkable! Oh yes, this will be simply wonderful, my dear young man! And just think of how happy the little darlings will be! Oh, it warms my heart!"

There was a slightly miffed noise from Alice at the mention of the curtains, but the Blackwoods seemed to be remaining upstairs and out of notice.

'It is undead, I am certain...well, I wonder. It is not usually necessary to assert one is certain of the conditions of his own hypothetical."

"'This is certain. A reaffirmation, monsieur, I thought was necessary, in light of the discussion of grave elementals and necromentals," Thierri replied, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "I would not wish any of my less knowledgeable audience to become confused."

"This attack seems to point all too neatly to Dr. Poincare and her cronies," Lia says, her eyebrows drawing down. "A question of some importance occurs -- how, exactly, did this victim escape when others were entombed and slowly tormented to death?"

Turning to Lia, he continues, "As to your question, mademoiselle professor, perhaps the victim did not escape, but was released...to spread his tale, and perhaps his illness."

"That is hardly conclusive Ms. Mournswraith. Mr. Boucher was not with us on the night we confronted the doctor and it is a bit of a stretch to believe that she or her cohorts would target him instead of one of us."

"Monsieur, you presume," Thierri replied, giving Agale an arch look. "Had I been the victim, of course, there would be no question to how I escaped, but in this case, the answer was either luck or deliberate motive. The hound was ostensibly distracted with the less fortunate fate of the woman that was with him, giving him a chance to escape."

Only the slightest pause before the word "fortunate" belied any emotion at the statement.

He took another draw of coffee and glanced sidelong at Thierri, sizing up the huckster. "Now that we've firmly established that this is an entirely hypothetical attack, where, hypothetically might it have occurred?"

"A small village called Troischamps, to the south-west of here," Thierri said. "Nothing has been seen or heard since."

"And the gendarmerie pays no creedance to these claims?" He adds inquiringly before taking a tentative bite of some toast.

"The gendarme looked," Thierri breathed, smoke streaming from between his lips. "They found nothing. They left. I am not privy to their thoughts, but they must not be eager to quarter at a town that bears the plague. Nor are they convinced this is not the result of the anti-mage fervor that has struck the country, nor a deliberate ruse, to lure them out."

"I have heard the nobles fear an attack in Port-a-Lucine," Katja interjected from where she stood in the doorway, where she had retreated to escape Loiseau. She betrayed no trace of what she herself thought of this theory. "That they are keeping the gendarme close. An effort in the country would leave the city unguarded."

To Thierri, again, "This hypothetical plague victim whose hypothetical illness is starting so many rumors...could it be connected to this presumably factual story about our erstwhile prisoner in the Observateur?" Darius flicks his finger at the notice of Anne-Marie's death at the bottom of the first page and slides the broadsheet over to Thierri for his perusal.

Professor Lessard blinked rather comically as his newspaper vanished from in front of his nose, leaving him with no defense from the full brunt of Madame Loiseau. He turned to follow where it went, looking quite a bit like he intended to say something to Darius that started with "S", and ended with "ound Lance".

Thierri glanced at the headline with a raised eyebrow. "If she was eaten by a weird, the paper has failed to report it," he said dryly. "If you refer to the plague, they both share it. If you refer to some motive on the dead woman's part, you would know better than I." The blond man slid the newspaper back, where Lessard coolly picked it back up again.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Thierri glanced at the headline with a raised eyebrow. "If she was eaten by a weird, the paper has failed to report it," he said dryly. "If you refer to the plague, they both share it. If you refer to some motive on the dead woman's part, you would know better than I." The blond man slid the newspaper back, where Lessard coolly picked it back up again.

"Not eaten, no," Darius says, totally ignoring Lessard's consternation and disapproving looks. "But her companions had a weird with them when we found them. She died of this disease, he contracted it and is gravely ill. So to speak. As for motives, well, he's your hypothetical, surely you can ascribe whatever motive you wish to him or his attackers, but discrediting magecraft seems plausible. Which, if successful, leaves the University...the Quartier Hazlani...and others..." Darius makes a gesture including the household at large, "in a dire position."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"How amusing," Lia says in a bone-dry tone of voice - one pitched so it will not be heard by the loud Mme. Loiseau. "I never imagined that the choice between visiting a ball and a plague-ridden village with an attendant murderous weird could be so difficult.

It seems to me that if the weirds are, indeed, the source of the plague, that we have a problem. Several of us were injured while we were fighting the wretched thing. One wonders whether this disease might not have a secondary purpose, besides discrediting mages in general: could it not be meant to soften the land up, by eliminating potential resistance?"

[DocBeard]

Tomas is a little overwhelmed by the sheer volume of boisterous characters booming out their opinions(Though he does go, "Hey!" at Remy's slander.), as Darius drags half of a conversation out of one room and into another. Loiseau's continued talk about his qualities and this alleged ball and competition between hospices-of COURSE the local faiths would use this as an excuse to knife fight with each other-well, Tomas is kind of dizzy.

"Okay." Tomas finally says, rubbing his head and deciding that it just isn't worth trying to make people be quiet. "I'm going to go wash up and try to start this morning over again. Kerrian, let me know if you need my help."