The Shattered City: Chapter Three

[DocBeard]

Tomas thrashes through the woods, confident in the fact that there is nothing more terrible out here than him. The Hounds are severely wounded, he's got a brutal little trick in store for any were-creature that would think him an easy meal, and...

"Hah!" Tomas exclaims in panic at the crack, sword and shield in hand and taking a swipe at...

...at absolutely nothing. All of a sudden, Eisenwald feels very foolish, coming out here and trying to pick a fight just because Thierri reminded him of...

Something's following you. Tomas's good sense whispers, Eisenwald willing Ivorsen's light to stay dim as he has a stare down with the biggest owl he's ever seen. Realizing that his demeanor might provoke something, Tomas forces his chest to rise and fall, keeping his eyes open for more signs in the dark...

...more rats?! "Did I even leave the city?" Tomas murmurs, ready to just turn around and face whatever's...

A hand fell down on Tomas's shoulder...

"Tomas, what are you doing here?" The familiar voice broke the silence. A round, solid-looking face atop a muscular and broad-shouldered frame, topped by a short mop of brown hair. Christophe Renier peered at Tomas, genuinely concerned. "You shouldn't be running around the King's Forest at night. It's dangerous."

There's a crackle of light from Tomas's shield, and all of a sudden the immediate area is covered in a luminous silver glow; it contrasts bizarrely against the unhealthy gleam in Eisenwald's eyes as he moves, turning to slice whatever's attacking him in twain, recognizes Christophe, and proceeds to exhale. "Sorry." Tomas manages, feeling flush and weak all over again. He then realizes he doesn't know the details of the enchanted shield and the silvery light might be hurting Christophe-it douses, just as Lia becomes visible.

"Chasing ghosts." Tomas explains, possibly to both of them, leaning against a tree as though he were just catching his breath. He looks a little dubiously at Grimmric. "Traitor." He murmurs, closing his eyes for just a second. "...I guess it would be totally hypocritical, Lia, to say that you shouldn't have come after me?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"It would perhaps be more accurate to say that I don't care whether you think I shouldn't have," Lia replies, the relief clear in her voice. "I'm not going to just let you run off when we're in a combat zone - and you're not yourself."

She looks at Christophe and inclines her head. "Good evening to you, and please pardon my crude choice of words before. However, time is at a premium here. Please come back to the Boucher farm with me - both of you."

She raises an eyebrow at Tomas. "And don't call my companion a traitor. He's as worried about you as I am - in his own way."

[NeoTiamat]

King's Forest; Night of April 21st, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sorry." Tomas manages, feeling flush and weak all over again. He then realizes he doesn't know the details of the enchanted shield and the silvery light might be hurting Christophe-it douses, just as Lia becomes visible.

"What the blazes are you doing here?" she exclaims when she sees Christophe.

"Being blinded." Christophe said very accurately, as the Renier rubbed his eyes. He blinked a few times, "Guess Bertriz was right. No good deeds go unpunished."

She looks at Christophe and inclines her head. "Good evening to you, and please pardon my crude choice of words before. However, time is at a premium here. Please come back to the Boucher farm with me - both of you."

"It's alright. You should hear Bertram when I beat him at cards." Christophe said cheerfully. "Lead the way. Glad someone agrees with me about these woods."

You two can rejoin the main group whenever you like

[Kaitou Kage]

Cyrus was arrogant, snide, temperamental, and an all around bastard but he wasn't completely unreasonable. Where his brother was involved he even seemed concerned. The dommer pursed his lips and nodded at Thierri's suggestion.

"As you wish," he said, "If it is prepared I will see that he drinks it. And please arrange a blanket. My brother is being unreasonable."

With that, Cyrus turned on his heel and stalked after Darius. If there was a little bit of shouting to follow, that was only normal for the twins.

[DocBeard]

Tomas can't let Lia or Christophe get hurt because of his need to find something unholy to beat into submission; he hangs at the back, figuring that he shouldn't risk infecting anyone.

"No one followed you, did they?" Tomas manages, perhaps ignoring the inherent hypocrisy in worrying about others wandering off. "...I'll apologize to Thierri. He only helped us with his..." Eisenwald cannot keep a frown off of his face. "...tricks."

[The Whistler]

"Who does not feel ill here? Parlez plus fort!"* Her tongue lilted, her spine was rigid. Nerit held up her hand as if to say "Not me."

Celeste raised her hand earnestly, after the fashion of someone who knows the answer to a difficult algebra problem.

"Myself, Sister Doherty! And, despite the gravity of the situation, how fortunate it is that the disease does not spread through common contagion! After all, it must be incumbent among those unharmed to tend to our affected comrades--I am sure that we shall rise to the occasion!"

[Cronax]

The ghost of Rachel was barely visible - just a hint of something wrong in the light, a curl of an outline more frail than smoke, easily passed off as a trick of nature. Only the small, frightened sobs indicated she was even still there.

Mr. Agale had never been described as someone with which others sought comfort. Neither was he particularly adept at dealing with teenagers of even the living variety. So seeing as though no one else seemed enthusiastic to the task of dealing with the specter in their midst, it was with no small quantity of trepidation and unease that he approached Rachel.

"There, there. We seem to have chased them off for the time being." he started, considering for a moment the logistics of patting an incorporeal upon the back before deciding against it. Now let me see, he thought, It would be unseemly to have the girl haunting the countryside for the foreseeable future. If memory serves, these apparitions only remain while something remains undone. "You mentioned earlier that you were lost? It should be a simple enough endeavor to locate and escort you back to your home now that we have established your identity and circumstance."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"No one followed you, did they?" Tomas manages. "...I'll apologize to Thierri. He only helped us with his..." Eisenwald cannot keep a frown off of his face. "...tricks."

"No, no one followed me," Lia replies, looking back over her shoulder. "See?" she points ahead to the silhouette of the Boucher farm, outlined against the night sky past the last stretch of forest. "They're all still there, bikering if experience counts for anything. As for apologizing, I leave that up to your judgment." She glanc at Christophe. "Speaking of judgment... What possessed you to traipse around this forest alone, monsieur Renier?"

[NeoTiamat]

Stream running through the Boucher Farm; After Sunset of April 21st, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She glances at Christophe. "Speaking of judgment... What possessed you to traipse around this forest alone, monsieur Renier?"

"I came to see if you needed any help." Christophe said promptly, his smiling, open face all but radiating a desire to help. "Tomas and the Isfahanis ran off all of a sudden, I thought you might need me."

"I...uh... it took me a while to get free of Bertriz, and then... um... I managed to get lost coming here." Christophe said, prevaricating very, very badly. Lying was not this Renier's cup of tea, though at least his desire to be helpful was genuine. "So... um... I... uh... wandered around the woods till I heard Tomas."

"You probably didn't need my help after all." The broad-shouldered young man said, smiling ruefully. "But if there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask."

"I..I wish I knew what else to say. I wish I knew how to bring back the dead, I wish I knew why you were here, and not someplace better where things like this don't happen."

"Everything dies. No matter how he wishes, man has yet to break this truth," Thierri murmured, staring darkly. His eyes fastened on the ghost. "Tell me, Rachel. Do you recall anything after the dogs attacked, before you returned as you are now? Did you feel what drew you back?"

"I-I don't know. I don't want to think about it!" Rachel sobbed.

"If we knew why you were here, it would assist us in aiding you," Thierri pressed.

"I don't care! I just want this nightmare to be over..." the voice replied.

"Who..who should we tell? Do you want us to tell anyone?"

"I-I... no, I... I couldn't... I don't want..." The paper thin outline seemed to squeeze in on itself a little more. "How could I, how could anyone tell them... I can't bear to imagine what they'd say..."

"You mentioned earlier that you were lost? It should be a simple enough endeavor to locate and escort you back to your home now that we have established your identity and circumstance."

"I-I don't know how to get home... everything looks different from what it's supposed to be..." Rachel trembled.

"I know the way," Thierri said from where he was leaning against the table, staring off in another direction. "Come, Rachel. We will take you home."


Duclos Farm; Close to Midnight of April 21st, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The town was dark and abandoned as you made your way through it, not a single light or noise to indicate that anyone was even still alive. Thierri held a magical glow slightly above his shoulder, scanning the area warily as he walked. The light was stark against the black backdrop of the buildings, and then cut off abruptly, leading to an uncomfortable feeling of exclusion. The windows you passed reflected white, and the more fanciful among you could have imagined the houses were watching you. Those more practical might have instead considered that anything that was watching you through the glass would be hidden from sight.

Eventually Thierri stopped in front of a house near the middle of town, one that Rachel even seemed to vaguely recognize. It was larger than that of the Boucher farmstead, still pitifully small in comparison to the Chateau, made up of nothing more elaborate than simple wood planks. It, like the others, was dark, and you heard no stirring from within.

"When I would sneak out, maman would always be there when I got back," Rachel gulped, her outline still hugging herself as she trailed beside you. "I don't know how she knew, but she always did. She'd chew me out... told me he'd lead me to a bad end..." She drifted over to a particular room, one translucent hand caressing the unlit window.

"It's just not the same," she finally whispered. "It's just not the same any more."

The ghostly apparition vanished.


Boucher Farmhouse; Morning of April 22nd, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Your accommodations for the night were something akin to miserable. Goodness knows that some of you tried your hardest, but there was only so much you could do with a hayloft in a barn, especially when the barn contained a number of cattle and sheep to boot. It was drafty, cold, and did not smell pleasant. Stray bits of straw, despite heroic attempts to clear them from your sleeping area, had managed to work themselves into your clothing. You were woken at the crack of dawn by a very loud and obnoxious rooster, who had no appreciation for people who worked late. Katja was already awake, keeping an eye on the door. She seemed unaffected by the rough conditions.

Those of you walking from the barn passed Reynard on your way to the house, who was already out and active. He was busy clearing crops from the field near the house, perhaps too concerned by proximity to his house to attempt burning it. A large circle had been furrowed around the house during the night, with the occasional sign carved into the dirt around it. No one had stepped on it and broken it, yet. The blight, meanwhile, seemed to be spreading.

Those of you inside did not fare much better. The room was better insulated and was rather clean, but was perhaps a quarter of the size of your own room at the Chateau. Those of you within were packed like sardines, fluctuating between freezing cold and burning up. The only advantage was the illness allowed you to sleep through at least some of the rooster's crowing.

In the family room of the kitchen you found porridge, eggs, juice, toast, a kettle of something, and Christophe.

"Good morning!" Christophe said, far too sincerely, as he flipped a piece of toast. "I wanted to see if I could help you guys out, and it seemed Madame Boucher was busy taking care of her son, so I offered to make breakfast." The former bit of information was entirely unnecessary, as you could see a middle-aged woman sitting by Philippe's bed from where you were. "I can coat the toast in egg if any of you want it like that. There's also a kettle of something that smells and tastes horrible, but those of you who are sick are supposed to drink it." He shrugged, not terribly apologetic. "Sorry."

"Where is the stage magician?" Katja asked, sitting down to get in a staring contest with a glass of juice.

"Don't know. I think Monsieur Boucher said he went into town," Christophe replied.

[DocBeard]

"You probably didn't need my help after all." The broad-shouldered young man said, smiling ruefully. "But if there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask."

" 'A Renier is never far from help or, barring that, family.', I think Sebastian once said." Tomas observes grimly, keeping his mouth shut but giving the forest floor-just where a rat might scurry-a suspicious glance. "Will frauline be well unescorted?" He ducks, as if expecting the back of Lia's hand for that bit of sexism.

---

THE NEXT DAY,

For his part, Tomas quietly apologized to the group when he got back, but otherwise kept to himself for the rest of the evening. He takes a drink of the 'tea' like it were a shot of something unmentionable, but otherwise abstains from breakfast.

"Don't know. I think Monsieur Boucher said he went into town," Christophe replied.

Tomas nods at this, fits his hat on, wraps a scarf around his neck, and heads out the front door.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Darius sleeps like a man who's accustomed to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements; he wakes up in no worse a temper than he usually seems to be in at the crack of dawn and is downstairs drinking his "tea" and watching Christophe make breakfast, a slightly incredulous expression on his face, when the rooster crows.

"Thank you for your hospitality, madame," he says to Mme. Boucher. He seems about to ask about Phillippe, but ends up saying nothing, retiring to a corner near the fireplace to stir it a bit with a handy poker, soak up the heat, nurse a second cup of the vile concoction, and observe the Renier's antics from a safe distance. He watches Tomas go out the door with no more change in expression than the poker in his hand.

[Nerit]

Nerit was awake when the rooster crowed. In fact, she had been reciting morning prayers outside toward the east. She waited for several of the unaffected to drag themselves up, and then accompanied them to the Boucher house.

---
"Monsieur Renier, you do too much," she smiled and took a cup of juice. Her left hand twitched as she raised the glass to her mouth, her eyes wandering over the heads of the affected Malchance residents.

[yalenusveler]

Kerrian didn't sleep well, apparently one of those sorts who was awake every ten minutes while ill. However, unlike others he wasn't quite adverse to drinking the foul tasting concoction. Oh, there was grimacing, but when the alternative was fever and chills..a little foul taste was a mild inconvenience.

Either way, he sat quietly in a corner, sipping the foul tasting brew and nursing a piece of toast as if he couldn't quite decide if it was food or not.

Finally though, he spoke. "I think I know what they're trying to do."

[lostboy]

Nicholas had also not had the best of nights, not in any way due to the state or lack of a bed, but more to the feverish hallucinations that had gripped the poet in the aftermath of yesterdays events. As it was Nicholas had made sleep somewhat difficult for his compatriots , what with his tossing and turning, incomprehensible mumbling and occasinal shouting of random things, some of which seemed to involve; a Madeleine, an Uncle someone-or-other, an incident with a lynch mob, and something or someone unamed that you could only conclude Nicholas was in love with and utterly petrified of.

Sill nothing like a cock crowing and the smell of breakfast to stir even the sickest form their beds, and the poet staggers out to join the others in the kitchen, looking the worst side of dishevelled you had ever seen him. He does pause to look somewhat incredulously at the spread available for breakfast in these surroundings and also notes the appearence of their guest chef, but right now that was all rather much for the poet to take in so he slumps into a chair and reaches for the medicieinal concotion.

"Ugh, well I suppose I've had worse" he says with a grimace as he knocks back the brew, "Although I think I can improve it with a chaser to wash it down". So saying he reaches into his jacket for a familiar silver flask, and with a look of confusion comes up empty handed, this is followed by a flurry of searching within his jacket, pockets and stachel, all for naught.

Finally though, he spoke. "I think I know what they're trying to do."

Nicholas looks up with sudden anoyance and also a mild form of panic. "Well lets bloody well find out and fast, this situation is gettign worse every minute! And woudl whoever decided to proclaim themselves nursemaid kindly return my property?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"I have a bone to pick with you, Isfahani," is the first thing Lia says when she sees Darius. She jerks a thumb over her shoulder at Cyrus. "It's one thing that your baby brother tried to peep on the rest of us while we were changing, but why in the name of Zakatha's jockstrap didn't you warn us that he snores like a rusty saw trying to go through a knot? I was sore tempted to cast Silence on him while he slept."

This being said, Lia goes to pay her respects to Mme. Boucher. "In case no one else has done it," she says as she bows her head, "let me offer you my gratitude for your hospitality, especially when so many of us have fallen ill."

When Kerrian makes his statement, Lia raises an eyebrow and goes to sit at the table where she can see him.