The Shattered City: Chapter Three

[Cronax]

"The peculiar thing is the hybridization of the unliving with an elemental. The mind of the unliving is closer to that of mortal creatures, leaving it simpler to control than an elemental. But there is no obvious benefit that is worth the complexity."

"Why does a carpenter build a house of wood and not of stone? It could be something as simple as familiarity. Nevertheless, too much speculation without more facts does not serve our goals"

A flash of inspiration took the opportunity to strike Agale. "If this creature is indeed the cause of the agricultural blight, could we not measure the geographical boundaries of the infection, then adjust for topological irregularities to find the epicenter? If I engaged in gambling, I would wager that is where our monstrosity lairs."

OOC Nature of 12 to assist whoever is actually good at that skill with triangulating where the epicenter of the crop blight is.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"A good thought," Lia praises Mr. Agale's idea of triangulating the centre of the crop blight and thus, the possible cradle of the charnel hound's creation.

The Mage's gaze swings to the oxen pulling the plow, as did Thierri's, and there is a gleam in her eye. It speaks avidly of the urge to experiment and explore the very limits of power ... and then she reluctantly shakes her head. "A fascinating concept," she allows. "But ... fragile. If we make the protection specific to one type of enemy, it is more powerful in my experience. But any other kind of opponent could go right through it -- and trample the lines as they see fit, weakening if not destroying the ward. The pattern would need to remain under constant vigil from trustworthy people. Can we swing enough support to make it so until the charnel hound is dealt with?"

Lia listens to Nicolas' thoughts, then gives him her own: "Perhaps the charnel hound is a watchdog of some sort, guarding a specific prize from interlopers at the behest of its master."

[lostboy]

"Perhaps the charnel hound is a watchdog of some sort, guarding a specific prize from interlopers at the behest of its master."

"Perhaps..." Nicholas screws his face up for a moment and looks out across the fields, before dropping the cigarette butt and crushing it underfoot. "That makes as much sense to me as any hypothesis right now, all the more reason to see the spot where it was first encountered and to follow our legal consul's suggestion."

Scribbling something further in his book, he snaps it shut and adds "I think we had best get our resident Mr Green Fingers on the case."

OOC: Yalenus Im guessing Kerrian might have a good nature roll, do you want to have a pop at Cronax's suggestion?

[Kaitou Kage]

"What do you have against Boucher?" Cyrus asked.

He could imagine many reasons to dislike a Boucher, especially if Thierri were any indication of the family's traits.

[NeoTiamat]

Boucher Farmstead, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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"So let me get this straight" Nicholas says straightening up, his cigarette clamped between his teeth as he absently scribbles in the book. "The only witness's to this creature are your brother and the missing girl? Further the only human victim of the malady is Phillippe or are there others here?"

"I have only just arrived, I know what others have told me. There are some who bear early symptoms of the plague. Those who do are disinclined to admit it," Thierri replied, his expression dark and unpleasant. "None have progressed to the point of my brother."

Then obviously coming to no useful conclusion he peers intently at the ground for a moment before bringin his attention back to Therri. "Can you direct us to the spot where the beast was first encountered?"

Thierri gestured across the stream that meandered through the Boucher fields, pointing to a sturdy fence that hemmed the opposite side. The field was blotted with ugly patches of brown and black, much like the rest of the Troischamps fields. "Philippe must have been referring to that fence," Thierri said.

"Why does a carpenter build a house of wood and not of stone? It could be something as simple as familiarity. Nevertheless, too much speculation without more facts does not serve our goals"

"No mage would call such a thing familiar, monsieur. An elemental or the unliving are familiar. They bear much of the same advantageous traits, so what is the purpose of combining them?" Thierri asked. Having no answer for this question with which to showboat, the magician let the topic drop.

" The pattern would need to remain under constant vigil from trustworthy people. Can we swing enough support to make it so until the charnel hound is dealt with?"

Thierri took a deep drag on his cigarette. "Magic is not well respected here," he said, leaving mountains of subtext buried behind the statement.

"Unless the townsfolk place more confidence you than myself," Thierri continued, in a tone of voice stating firmly that - with the possible exception of Celeste - that was not going to happen, "they will be inclined to erase any ward you create. My brothers are, apparently, less destructive, but only one of them remains on his feet. You will have to decide between utility and security, madame professeur."

Center of Troischamps, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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"I never said I've anything against Boucher. Never met the man." Bertriz said, then smiled sweetly at Cyrus. It was a smile with teeth in it. "You should try listening at times, Monsieur Priest."

"Cousin..." Christophe said, in tones that in a less genial man might be considered a warning. The white-haired Renier directed her charming smile at her cousin.

"But no, it's M. Duclos who is in an uproar. His daughter disappeared a little while ago, and he is of a mind to blame the young Boucher for it." Bertriz Renier said, shrugging. "Whether anything will come of it, who can say? But Duclos would certainly like it if Philippe Boucher just quietly disappeared."

"Quiet." The word came almost like a bark, a sharp command that came from the young woman with the cloth tied around her head. Katja was frowning, pacing along the village square. "Listen... there's something moving."

"Beneath us."

Perception!

[Nathan of the FoS]

Darius has his sword out before Katja has fully finished her warning; a confused look crosses his face as her final phrase sinks in.

"Beneath...?" he repeats, looking at the ground suspiciously.

Perception 12. Unless it is a bulette coming up right underneath me, I doubt that will cut it.

[DocBeard]

"...us...?" Tomas finishes, Ivorsen drawn and his eyes scanning around him instinctively. Can it burrow through stone? Is there anything around the bystanders can use to stay safe?

[Kaitou Kage]

Cyrus pulled his sword out, too, and scanned the ground. He said nothing but watched for anything moving below.

I rolled a bloody freaking 2 on my perception check. That makes a 16. I'm really annoyed with the dice this game. REALLY annoyed. I haven't rolled double-digits before modifiers in ages.

I'll decide if I'm going to use a reroll later. Not that I have much luck with those either. Right now I'm in a very sour mood toward this game and these stupid dice rollers. It would be nice to have a streak of good luck in this game for a change.

[yalenusveler]

Kerrian sighed as he returned from his examinations, carrying several sprigs of various wild herbs. "Unfortunately, I couldn't find anything that would help all that much. A lot of the herbs I'd usually use aren't in the best condition."

"What I have here..well, it'll help with the fever, but it's only going to make him more comfortable instead of any actual curative effect. But it might buy us some time." Unfortunately, time was likely a commodity which was going for quite a bit on the open market, ignoring currency conversion rates.

"I heard something about constructing a larger ward.." His eyes moved over to the oxen before he shook his head. "The problem we've got is it's pretty easy to destroy, never mind if it rains..I still wish we knew motivation, but the Mirror drives people insane, and we know the mirror group uses weirds.."

Kerrian seemed content however for the moment to ramble on..and walk the perimeter of where they were, trying to determine the path of the Charnel Hound by where its effects were most visable on the local flora.

OOC:32 Nature counting the aid, 28 perception.

[Nerit]

"I heard something about constructing a larger ward.." His eyes moved over to the oxen before he shook his head. "The problem we've got is it's pretty easy to destroy, never mind if it rains..I still wish we knew motivation, but the Mirror drives people insane, and we know the mirror group uses weirds.."

Nerit frowned deeply at the mention of mirrors.
"Indeed they do," she said in response to the cultists' use of weirds. "I suspect they have a hand in this, but we have yet to have a motivation. I am sure half of them don't know themselves. They are not taken in by the mirrors, however."

She was quiet again for a moment, then folded her hands behind her back and leaned toward Kerrian. "I don't think painkillers will be enough, M."

[The Whistler]

"Mercy! Beneath us, you say?"

Celeste jumped up from her seat she had taken beside Bertriz and began fanning herself nervously, the look on her face indicating someone who is trying very hard to look purposeful while having absolutely no idea what is going on.

I rolled a 7! Celeste sees a butterfly.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"No mage would call such a thing familiar, monsieur. An elemental or the unliving are familiar. They bear much of the same advantageous traits, so what is the purpose of combining them?" Thierri asked.

Lia makes a sour face and when she speaks, her voice is full of sarcasm: "Progress. That, or the desire to instill additional terror, which is progress to some."

Thierri took a deep drag on his cigarette. "Magic is not well respected here," he said, leaving mountains of subtext buried behind the statement. "Unless the townsfolk place more confidence in you than myself, they will be inclined to erase any ward you create. My brothers are, apparently, less destructive, but only one of them remains on his feet. You will have to decide between utility and security, madame professeur."

"Let me theorize a little," Lia says, her voice becoming distant, just as her eyes go out of focus. The Mage drums her fingers on her staff as she mutters to herself, then speaks up: "My own wards are set by creating a pattern in a certain location, usually with chalk. The pattern sort of etches itself into the floor, but it can be removed if someone is willing to go to the effort -- as well as the expense of cleaning agents. Even if that is done, however, the magic remains because the pattern is merely the initiating focus, and the actual spell is a permeating energy construct which matches itself to the area defined in the casting.

Hmmm. The construct of your ward is of superior quality, monsieur Boucher, but it rather hinges upon the physical representation remaining intact, unless I am very much mistaken. Then ... if perhaps ... we might create a hybrid of the two magics, somehow ...? Yes! Sympathetic magic might be our friend in this case. An initial pattern would need to be drawn to define the area, but if we could then focus the critical nodes of your ward in an object to represent the area, rather than outline the perimeter as you do with your current ritual ... perhaps an iron disk engraved with symbolic representations of the village, and with handfuls of earth from its defining areas baked into the iron ... It would need to be preserved and guarded in a central location, possiby.

And if mademoiselle Nerit would be so kind as to provide the blessings of the Guardian in the Mist to the endeavour, it might be more nearly acceptable to the townsfolk. Yes? We simply invert the physical aspect from external nodes into one internal node, which requires an application of Wormschild's Second Law, and tweak the field expression so it becomes like my own ward, and it just might work."

[lostboy]

Nicholas nods along absently with the others comments and thoughts. His attention had remained fixed on the fence Therri had indicated, a cigarette dangling unlit between his lips. After a moment or two he finally drags his eyes away.

"You know, I cannot recall any story or tale, or even rumour concerning this place that might be even vaguely relevent. Whatever this is I feel certain the causes lie in the present raher than the past. "

"However, saying that, how close are we to the village graveyard?" He asks finally lighting a cigarette and offering one to Therri. "I know the Leon cemetery itself is closeby but does Troischamps have its own burying ground?"


OOC: If it can still be counted here's an aid another +2 for Kerrian on perception with an 11 (I flunked the nature roll).

[Cronax]

Agale surveyed the countryside uncomfortably. To call him 'outdoorsy' would be a bold faced lie, but the perceptive might notice a glint of familiarity in his eye.

"I would still like to interview the girl's family, but that venue would be better questioned in Mr. Boucher's absence I think." he remarked. "If there is nothing further to be learned here, we should rejoin our compatriots in the town proper and compare what we have thus far learned."

[NeoTiamat]

Boucher Farmstead, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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"And if mademoiselle Nerit would be so kind as to provide the blessings of the Guardian in the Mist to the endeavour, it might be more nearly acceptable to the townsfolk. Yes? We simply invert the physical aspect from external nodes into one internal node, which requires an application of Wormschild's Second Law, and tweak the field expression so it becomes like my own ward, and it just might work."

"An intriguing proposition, madame professeur." Thierri seemed pleased. In a moment, however, it faded into consideration, as he walked around his nail-circle and burned through cigarettes at rapid pace. "The creation of the sympathetic energy would add a great deal of time and complexity to the endeavor, as well as the creation of the focus. Then there is the process of channeling the ward into the power of the land itself. I am familiar with this place, so we are capable. What is unfortunate is the spread out nature of the town, as well as the stream running through it. This presents a flaw in the circle that must be compensated for, as well as compensation for those areas that have been suffused with the power of the dead. Let me see. If we were to employ the simplest pattern possible for those criteria..." Thierri's voice and eyes trailed off as his mind wandered, running across fields and streams, calculating node positions. It was practically mechanical how fast he worked, running through numbers and magical theories at rapid speed.

"...it would take us twenty-eight days, excluding any breaks to sleep or eat," Thierri finished. He folded his fingers in front of his lips, holding a cigarette between two of them, and raised an eyebrow at Lia. "I myself am not a construct or one of the unliving, nor do I believe madame professeur to be so. More importantly, everyone in the town will be dead of plague by then." The magician breathed out another cloud of smoke, which had gathered around him in a thick miasma at this point. He tapped his foot a few times, recalculating. "If madame professeur were to limit her ambitions to a single house, excluding any of the fields, it would perhaps take an hour or two, plus the time required to erect the ward itself. The unbreakable nature of your wards will not be capable of sustaining itself at that size."

"However, saying that, how close are we to the village graveyard?" He asks finally lighting a cigarette and offering one to Therri.

Kerrian seemed content however for the moment to ramble on..and walk the perimeter of where they were, trying to determine the path of the Charnel Hound by where its effects were most visable on the local flora.

"Everywhere in this town is close," Thierri said, rather dully. He gestured vaguely in a direction further towards the outskirts of town. "You will find the graveyard over there."

Kerrian allowed himself to be guided by the disturbances in the wind, and more pragmatically by the trail of blighted and dying plants. Though he could not tell for certain without much more walking and examining of the entire town, he felt that the field and the banks of the stream were much stronger than the other patches he encountered, and formed a kind of crossroads for various areas of blight.

The other pattern he detected lay across the fields, in the direction Thierri was pointing - the graveyard.

"I would still like to interview the girl's family, but that venue would be better questioned in Mr. Boucher's absence I think."

"M. Duclos is a man of very narrow mind," Thierri said in agreement. It was a statement that could have meant anything. "If you wish to obtain anything from him other than threats and hearsay, I wish you luck."

Center of Troischamps, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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Christophe looked at the ground, listening obediently after Katja spoke, though it was readily apparent from his expression that he heard absolutely nothing. Bertriz, for her part, frowned and tilted her head, brows drawn together in concentration. M. Maurice twitched momentarily, hand slipping towards his coat, before arresting the movement.

“I don’t hear anything.” Bertriz said, her tones sharp and ordered. M. Maurice nodded vigorously. “Nor I.”

Katja ignored them all completely, her one eye seeming to track a path along the ground. The Lamordo-Darkonian woman took a few swift steps back the way you had come, before stopping. “It is gone now.”

“But it was heading in that direction.” Katja said, raising a hand to point down the street. Exactly in the direction you had come from. Exactly in the direction of the Boucher Farmstead.