Charles keeps quiet during the service, face blank. It's really rather more like an Ezran service than he expected--at least, the Ezran services he's used to. One of those Darkonian fire-eaters would probably give a very different homily.
Charles gets distracted composing a suitable funeral oration for Ulsaon from a Zealot's perspective and misses the entry of Ishaq--at least until his hilarious mispronunciation of Maleagant's last name draws his attention. I think I'm going to enjoy this one, he thinks, smiling for the first time since the events of last night.
"M'sieur Rafiq. A pleasure. I'm Charles Martel."
As Judge al-Shirazi enters with his two toughs, Charles nods in greeting to them as well. "We are glad to have your help, Reverences. A trip to the Necropolis...it will be exciting, certainly!"
The Eye of Anubis: Book Four
-
Nathan of the FoS
- Fiendish Enforcer
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NeoTiamat
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- Location: Boston, Massachusetts, USA
The Necropolis of Phiraz
May 24th, 761, 5:12 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Even for mid-afternoon, the trip to the Necropolis of Phiraz was a lonely one. A large group of armed foreigners and Confessors, the populace scurried away from the group of thirteen. You wondered how unlucky a number that was.
"You know," Michel remarked as he stepped along towards the back of the caravan, walking beside Guy. "I've only been in the Necropolis twice, I think. They don't like visitors there, even charming and handsome ones like me."
"Wonder why..." The more somber ex-militiaman said, deadpan.
"I really cannot imagine." Michel grinned, and you couldn't help but wonder just how much of the joviality was forced, a way of avoiding the somber realization of where they were going. "But even Pharazians only really go there when someone dies. It's a virtual fortress within the city."
"Hmm?" Guy paused in his walking to scratch behind Loup's ears. "Keep graverobbers out?"
"And the dead in, I think." Michel shuddered, only slightly exaggerating. "Not that they have much trouble, usually, its supposed to have been consecrated by the Prophet himself, but people are superstitious, what can you say? I remember that Fatima, the maid at the Embassy always told us horror stories about it when I was a still a runt."
"Ghosts?" The ex-militiaman raised an eyebrow, checking his weapons periodically. A shield was strapped to his arm, and a heavy war-axe hung loosely in a belt-sheathe. The musket slung over his back seemed almost an afterthought.
"Worse sometimes. Fatima said that once, oh, a couple of generations ago, there was this one old nobleman who was refused to hold a proper funeral for his kin when the died. He was a miser, and so they just got a box and put into the family mausoleum, without even a ceremony." Michel was in fine story-telling form, and you wondered, briefly, if Fatima had ever told such a story or if this was the Dementlieuse nobleman's son's own tale.
"Finally, all the dead kin apparently became angry enough to try and haunt the old miser, but he would have none of it. He ignored the moans and rattling chains, poked at the poltergeists with his cane, and shooed away the ghost-lights. Well, finally, one day the miser up and disappeared."
"His family waited a few weeks, I think, and then decided he was dead and they could off and bury him, in effigy at least. So they carried an empty coffin to the mausoleum, and opened the door. Now, mausoleums are built like vaults, so the door is solid lead, locked, and even when its not locked it takes four grown men to swing it open."
"But when they opened the door, they found the old miser inside the mausoleum already. He'd starved to death, clawing at the lead door from the inside. How he got there..." Michel paused, and a brief chill ran up your spines. "No one ever figured out. Supposedly, if you go outside his mausoleum at night, you can hear him scratching his way out."
"Huh..." Guy said, and somehow, that seemed to be that. The rest of the trip to the Necropolis passed in thoughtful silence.
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The Necropolis itself was as gloomy a place as you had imagined. A rocky peninsula jutting out into the Ousserd, the entrance to the Necropolis was a winding path carved into a rocky cliff-face, the two great dams of the Chakor and the Beni Massat on either side. The roar of water was deafening, and conversation died completely, for the plain and simple reason that no one could be heard.
The top of the cliff-face was studded with a short stone wall, with but a single gate which was closed, but not locked. The Pharazians, unlike the Akiri, did not bury their departed with gold or jewels, and so more than a single Keeper of the Necropolis had never been seen as necessary.
Mausoleums of stone and lead and iron were arranged in neat rows, obelisks rising in competition to an assortment of old monuments. Unlike a conventional graveyard in Dementlieu or Mordentshire, here the most honored dead were kept above ground, so as to not be assaulted by the periodic flooding of the Ousserd. But you knew the Necropolis was built upon solid stone, and the catacombs and ossuaries beneath it led deep, very deep.
This was a city of the dead, and if you closed your eyes, the sound of rushing water could have been the voices of the dead, calling to the living.
"Your Excellency," Michel volunteered as you opened the lichgate to the Necropolis. "Perhaps it may be wise for you and your comrades to stay back, so as not to overawe the gravekeeper at first?"
"A wise plan, yes." Judge al-Shirazi nodded, motioning for his two hulking comrades to keep back.
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The gravekeeper's cottage was just within lichgate, a small, plebian building nevertheless built of stone, and looking much like the mausoleums it surrounded. As soon as you arrived, the Keeper of the Necropolis scurried out to meet you.
He was a older man, short and withered, and dressed in dusty-brown-grey robes, fitting in with the sandstone mausoleums among which he lived. You wondered what kind of man would willingly spend his life in the Necropolis.
"Er, there are no services scheduled, the Necropolis is not open to visitors." He spoke hurriedly, and even the least subtle of you couldn't miss the quick flicker of fear in his eyes as almost a dozen foreigners bore down on him.
May 24th, 761, 5:12 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Even for mid-afternoon, the trip to the Necropolis of Phiraz was a lonely one. A large group of armed foreigners and Confessors, the populace scurried away from the group of thirteen. You wondered how unlucky a number that was.
"You know," Michel remarked as he stepped along towards the back of the caravan, walking beside Guy. "I've only been in the Necropolis twice, I think. They don't like visitors there, even charming and handsome ones like me."
"Wonder why..." The more somber ex-militiaman said, deadpan.
"I really cannot imagine." Michel grinned, and you couldn't help but wonder just how much of the joviality was forced, a way of avoiding the somber realization of where they were going. "But even Pharazians only really go there when someone dies. It's a virtual fortress within the city."
"Hmm?" Guy paused in his walking to scratch behind Loup's ears. "Keep graverobbers out?"
"And the dead in, I think." Michel shuddered, only slightly exaggerating. "Not that they have much trouble, usually, its supposed to have been consecrated by the Prophet himself, but people are superstitious, what can you say? I remember that Fatima, the maid at the Embassy always told us horror stories about it when I was a still a runt."
"Ghosts?" The ex-militiaman raised an eyebrow, checking his weapons periodically. A shield was strapped to his arm, and a heavy war-axe hung loosely in a belt-sheathe. The musket slung over his back seemed almost an afterthought.
"Worse sometimes. Fatima said that once, oh, a couple of generations ago, there was this one old nobleman who was refused to hold a proper funeral for his kin when the died. He was a miser, and so they just got a box and put into the family mausoleum, without even a ceremony." Michel was in fine story-telling form, and you wondered, briefly, if Fatima had ever told such a story or if this was the Dementlieuse nobleman's son's own tale.
"Finally, all the dead kin apparently became angry enough to try and haunt the old miser, but he would have none of it. He ignored the moans and rattling chains, poked at the poltergeists with his cane, and shooed away the ghost-lights. Well, finally, one day the miser up and disappeared."
"His family waited a few weeks, I think, and then decided he was dead and they could off and bury him, in effigy at least. So they carried an empty coffin to the mausoleum, and opened the door. Now, mausoleums are built like vaults, so the door is solid lead, locked, and even when its not locked it takes four grown men to swing it open."
"But when they opened the door, they found the old miser inside the mausoleum already. He'd starved to death, clawing at the lead door from the inside. How he got there..." Michel paused, and a brief chill ran up your spines. "No one ever figured out. Supposedly, if you go outside his mausoleum at night, you can hear him scratching his way out."
"Huh..." Guy said, and somehow, that seemed to be that. The rest of the trip to the Necropolis passed in thoughtful silence.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Necropolis itself was as gloomy a place as you had imagined. A rocky peninsula jutting out into the Ousserd, the entrance to the Necropolis was a winding path carved into a rocky cliff-face, the two great dams of the Chakor and the Beni Massat on either side. The roar of water was deafening, and conversation died completely, for the plain and simple reason that no one could be heard.
The top of the cliff-face was studded with a short stone wall, with but a single gate which was closed, but not locked. The Pharazians, unlike the Akiri, did not bury their departed with gold or jewels, and so more than a single Keeper of the Necropolis had never been seen as necessary.
Mausoleums of stone and lead and iron were arranged in neat rows, obelisks rising in competition to an assortment of old monuments. Unlike a conventional graveyard in Dementlieu or Mordentshire, here the most honored dead were kept above ground, so as to not be assaulted by the periodic flooding of the Ousserd. But you knew the Necropolis was built upon solid stone, and the catacombs and ossuaries beneath it led deep, very deep.
This was a city of the dead, and if you closed your eyes, the sound of rushing water could have been the voices of the dead, calling to the living.
"Your Excellency," Michel volunteered as you opened the lichgate to the Necropolis. "Perhaps it may be wise for you and your comrades to stay back, so as not to overawe the gravekeeper at first?"
"A wise plan, yes." Judge al-Shirazi nodded, motioning for his two hulking comrades to keep back.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gravekeeper's cottage was just within lichgate, a small, plebian building nevertheless built of stone, and looking much like the mausoleums it surrounded. As soon as you arrived, the Keeper of the Necropolis scurried out to meet you.
He was a older man, short and withered, and dressed in dusty-brown-grey robes, fitting in with the sandstone mausoleums among which he lived. You wondered what kind of man would willingly spend his life in the Necropolis.
"Er, there are no services scheduled, the Necropolis is not open to visitors." He spoke hurriedly, and even the least subtle of you couldn't miss the quick flicker of fear in his eyes as almost a dozen foreigners bore down on him.
Ravenloft GM: Eye of Anubis, Shattered City, and Prof. Lupescu's Traveling Ghost Show
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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Rock of the Fraternity
- Evil Genius
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- Joined: Wed Nov 21, 2007 1:16 pm
Before the Expedition left for the Necropolis, Lia asked for a few moments alone 'to make some preparations', as she put it. She did not need overly long and was at first quick enough, keeping up well. (Even if she seemed to slosh a bit when walking.) By the time the group arrives at the Necropolis, however, she looks as if she is starting to wilt ...
Lia gives the caretaker a flat glare. She has refreshed her mask, veil and clothing since yesterday, but the growing heat of the Pharazian day has bent Lia double once more. She looks rather a lot like an old crone when she hobbles forward, leaning on her cane.
"Pay very close attention to what these nice gentlemen are about to tell you," she rasps while gesturing vaguely in Charles's direction, her voice affected by the dry air and the dust again. She pauses to take a cloak-obscured sip from her waterskin, then continues. "They are speaking with considerable authority."
Lia gives the caretaker a flat glare. She has refreshed her mask, veil and clothing since yesterday, but the growing heat of the Pharazian day has bent Lia double once more. She looks rather a lot like an old crone when she hobbles forward, leaning on her cane.
"Pay very close attention to what these nice gentlemen are about to tell you," she rasps while gesturing vaguely in Charles's direction, her voice affected by the dry air and the dust again. She pauses to take a cloak-obscured sip from her waterskin, then continues. "They are speaking with considerable authority."
-
Nathan of the FoS
- Fiendish Enforcer
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"So we are," Charles says, drawing out and snapping open his letter of authority with a flourish. "We are here as representatives of the Prophet of Purity, may he live forever. We have reason to believe that certain untoward occurences have transpired here in the Necropolis, linked to the appearance of the demon which has recently appeared in the city, and we have been sent to investigate. Have you seen anything unusual in these last few days, sir? Strange lights? The restless dead on the move?"
Sense Motive 23. Does he react at all to the implied link between the Defacer and the Necropolis? Does it seem like he knows something about it already?
Sense Motive 23. Does he react at all to the implied link between the Defacer and the Necropolis? Does it seem like he knows something about it already?
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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NeoTiamat
- Evil Genius
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- Joined: Tue Sep 12, 2006 5:00 pm
- Gender: Male
- Location: Boston, Massachusetts, USA
The Necropolis of Phiraz
May 24th, 761, 5:14 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Lia's ominous appearance made the small, dusty man quail, although when Charles presented his scroll of authority, he rallied gamely.
"S-s-strange lights? Restless dead? N-n-no... I haven't seen anything like that, nothing at all, no, no." The gravekeeper, Hassan you thought you recalled Khalil saying his name was, assayed a small joke. "Nothing to do with the Necropolis... been quiet as a tomb!"
You wondered idly if there was a hysterical tinge to his laughter, or if your mind was playing tricks with you.
May 24th, 761, 5:14 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Lia's ominous appearance made the small, dusty man quail, although when Charles presented his scroll of authority, he rallied gamely.
"S-s-strange lights? Restless dead? N-n-no... I haven't seen anything like that, nothing at all, no, no." The gravekeeper, Hassan you thought you recalled Khalil saying his name was, assayed a small joke. "Nothing to do with the Necropolis... been quiet as a tomb!"
You wondered idly if there was a hysterical tinge to his laughter, or if your mind was playing tricks with you.
Ravenloft GM: Eye of Anubis, Shattered City, and Prof. Lupescu's Traveling Ghost Show
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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Rock of the Fraternity
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Lia hobbles a little closer yet, making an ugly noise in the back of her throat. "Hax! You say you have seen "nothing like that", so what have you seen and heard? A graveyard open to the skies, and quiet? No, sir. I will not believe it. Not even the scurrying of mice and rats, the chittering of bats, the buzz of insects or the slithering of snakes and lizards?" The recitation of nocturnal horrors is whip-quick and each accompanied by another tottering step closer to the caretaker.
'Places of the dead thrive
with nocturnal life
and strange and monstrous things
'twixt grave and marker sing
of their own ordering
of a world lost to sight.
Worse things yawn and crawl
dream of rising, consuming all
offer knowledge and sweet reward
for those who would award
them with any aid,'
Lia sings, her voice still rough and dry, a croak, a caw, more than a melody.
'Ware ye folk who walk
where others were laid to rest
lest soon ye fall
to those who would see all things less
that once were bright and beautiful.'
Lia slams the steel heel of her cane down after that last 'beautiful', the metal striking sparks and ringing discordantly as it strikes. "No 'special visitors' ...?" she finishes, her tone of voice suggestive. She holds out one hand and rubs her thumb and forefinger together.
'Places of the dead thrive
with nocturnal life
and strange and monstrous things
'twixt grave and marker sing
of their own ordering
of a world lost to sight.
Worse things yawn and crawl
dream of rising, consuming all
offer knowledge and sweet reward
for those who would award
them with any aid,'
Lia sings, her voice still rough and dry, a croak, a caw, more than a melody.
'Ware ye folk who walk
where others were laid to rest
lest soon ye fall
to those who would see all things less
that once were bright and beautiful.'
Lia slams the steel heel of her cane down after that last 'beautiful', the metal striking sparks and ringing discordantly as it strikes. "No 'special visitors' ...?" she finishes, her tone of voice suggestive. She holds out one hand and rubs her thumb and forefinger together.
Tomas looks up, then, his eyes gleaming with...something.
"If I were in a better mood, I'd say something like, 'If you don't get straight with us, we'll let her sing again.'." The Lamordian crosses his arms, pondering for a moment, and frowning deeply. "I'm not in a very good mood, sir." It would be so easy, soooo easy to just break the old man's will...
no. NO. That's not you. Biting his inner cheek so hard it cuts the flesh, Tomas forces himself forward, "But I'm not going to hurt you, either. None of us are. We just want to help. Please, if you know anything, before someone else dies?"
"If I were in a better mood, I'd say something like, 'If you don't get straight with us, we'll let her sing again.'." The Lamordian crosses his arms, pondering for a moment, and frowning deeply. "I'm not in a very good mood, sir." It would be so easy, soooo easy to just break the old man's will...
no. NO. That's not you. Biting his inner cheek so hard it cuts the flesh, Tomas forces himself forward, "But I'm not going to hurt you, either. None of us are. We just want to help. Please, if you know anything, before someone else dies?"
-
NeoTiamat
- Evil Genius
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- Joined: Tue Sep 12, 2006 5:00 pm
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The Necropolis of Phiraz
May 24th, 761, 5:16 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"NO!" The old gravekeeper shouted. "I have seen n-n-nothing! I see nothing! I will see nothing, for there is nothing to be seen!"
"I mean..." Hassan the gravekeeper backpedaled quickly. "I see r-r-rats and bats and snakes and such, but they are normal, yes? N-n-normal things in a Necropolis, I did not think you people wanted to hear of them. So since nothing that is not n-n-normal is happening, you can all go home now, yes!"
May 24th, 761, 5:16 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"NO!" The old gravekeeper shouted. "I have seen n-n-nothing! I see nothing! I will see nothing, for there is nothing to be seen!"
"I mean..." Hassan the gravekeeper backpedaled quickly. "I see r-r-rats and bats and snakes and such, but they are normal, yes? N-n-normal things in a Necropolis, I did not think you people wanted to hear of them. So since nothing that is not n-n-normal is happening, you can all go home now, yes!"
Ravenloft GM: Eye of Anubis, Shattered City, and Prof. Lupescu's Traveling Ghost Show
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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Nathan of the FoS
- Fiendish Enforcer
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- Location: San Francisco CA
"Unfortunately, the definition of 'normal activity' within such a place as this is too broad to be very useful to us," Charles says. "Sad experience teaches us that necromancy is so common that mere words fail to assuage our suspicions. Speak now if you have something to say, friend, because we will search this Necropolis for signs of the undead whether you will or no. Reverences?" he says, gesturing to the Confessors to come forward. "Let us enter."
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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The Whistler
- Evil Genius
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- Location: Southshore
Otto frowned slightly, eyes darting back and forth from interrogators to interrogate-ee. Almost absurdly, his mind flicked back through his professional experience:
"I am *so sorry* to charge you this 400 percent markup on my high-quality brass plating, Herr Schultheiss, but you see, I must needs support my poor, ailing great-aunt in Ludendorf, who has recently come down with a most dreadful ague and may not last through the month, and who also is not fictional at all."
Yeah. Same bull-honkey, different circumstances. But team-negotiation's different than one-on-one business, and somebody needs to play good-constable. So:
"Steady yourself there, good sir! There is no need to be worrying." The gunsmith smiled widely, stepping forward from the group and standing beside the man, leaning down a bit to be on his level. He spoke audibly, but with a slightly conspiratorial air.
"Now, sir. I do realize that there is a large lot of us here, yes? And we are being official, and we are having an authority, and that is making any group of people to be intimidating." He chuckles slightly. "I know that I would feel in jitters, in such a situation!"
He sobers up a touch. "As I am seeing it, however, you are having three options." Counting off on his fingers: "One. These people are investigating despite your wish, and continue to be intimidating to you." He shakes his head. "This is a bad option, as you see, but it is what these intimidating people are doing when they are made upset. Two. Somehow, you are convincing these people to go away. 'Excellent,' you say! 'I will be left alone,' you say!" He smiles ruefully. "And yes, you will be left alone...you will be all by yourself...without any defenses but your own...having just drawn the attention of a group of official investigators, who seem--preposterously, I know--to have thought that you had information to tell them."
He purses his lips. "It may be fine if you choose this option, but I may imagine certain circumstances in which it would...not be fine."
"Three." A genuine smile, this time. "You are making friends with this group of intimidating people. They are quite easy to make friends with, if you do not keep secrets from them! And suddenly, this group of intimidating people is being intimidating for *your* cause. They are defending you; they are keeping you from harm...they are good at doing that, too!"
"I do not know about you, but I am liking the third option best."
"I am *so sorry* to charge you this 400 percent markup on my high-quality brass plating, Herr Schultheiss, but you see, I must needs support my poor, ailing great-aunt in Ludendorf, who has recently come down with a most dreadful ague and may not last through the month, and who also is not fictional at all."
Yeah. Same bull-honkey, different circumstances. But team-negotiation's different than one-on-one business, and somebody needs to play good-constable. So:
"Steady yourself there, good sir! There is no need to be worrying." The gunsmith smiled widely, stepping forward from the group and standing beside the man, leaning down a bit to be on his level. He spoke audibly, but with a slightly conspiratorial air.
"Now, sir. I do realize that there is a large lot of us here, yes? And we are being official, and we are having an authority, and that is making any group of people to be intimidating." He chuckles slightly. "I know that I would feel in jitters, in such a situation!"
He sobers up a touch. "As I am seeing it, however, you are having three options." Counting off on his fingers: "One. These people are investigating despite your wish, and continue to be intimidating to you." He shakes his head. "This is a bad option, as you see, but it is what these intimidating people are doing when they are made upset. Two. Somehow, you are convincing these people to go away. 'Excellent,' you say! 'I will be left alone,' you say!" He smiles ruefully. "And yes, you will be left alone...you will be all by yourself...without any defenses but your own...having just drawn the attention of a group of official investigators, who seem--preposterously, I know--to have thought that you had information to tell them."
He purses his lips. "It may be fine if you choose this option, but I may imagine certain circumstances in which it would...not be fine."
"Three." A genuine smile, this time. "You are making friends with this group of intimidating people. They are quite easy to make friends with, if you do not keep secrets from them! And suddenly, this group of intimidating people is being intimidating for *your* cause. They are defending you; they are keeping you from harm...they are good at doing that, too!"
"I do not know about you, but I am liking the third option best."
-
NeoTiamat
- Evil Genius
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- Joined: Tue Sep 12, 2006 5:00 pm
- Gender: Male
- Location: Boston, Massachusetts, USA
The Necropolis of Phiraz
May 24th, 761, 5:18 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"I mean, if you really w-w-wish to search, then of course, you m-m-may, but there is nothing to be seen, so this is a waste of everyones' time. I mean, I would have noticed necromancy occurring in the sacred precinct of the Necropolis, would I have not?!?!?" The gravekeeper attempted to stand on his dignity and the dignity of his office, but fell woefully short. His hands were shaking like leaves in autumn, you noticed.
Suddenly the gravekeeper stopped, and realized just what he had said, and the look of utmost horror in his eyes was almost frightening.
May 24th, 761, 5:18 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"N-n-n-n-necromancy?!" The gravekeeper squeaked. That was what it sounded like, really. A strangled squeak, like from some small mouse caught before the attention of a small pack of mountain lions.Nathan of the FoS wrote:"Unfortunately, the definition of 'normal activity' within such a place as this is too broad to be very useful to us," Charles says. "Sad experience teaches us that necromancy is so common that mere words fail to assuage our suspicions. Speak now if you have something to say, friend, because we will search this Necropolis for signs of the undead whether you will or no. Reverences?" he says, gesturing to the Confessors to come forward. "Let us enter."
"I mean, if you really w-w-wish to search, then of course, you m-m-may, but there is nothing to be seen, so this is a waste of everyones' time. I mean, I would have noticed necromancy occurring in the sacred precinct of the Necropolis, would I have not?!?!?" The gravekeeper attempted to stand on his dignity and the dignity of his office, but fell woefully short. His hands were shaking like leaves in autumn, you noticed.
"You don't understand..." The gravekeeper wailed mournfully, "If Ibn Say--The Whistler wrote:"Three." A genuine smile, this time. "You are making friends with this group of intimidating people. They are quite easy to make friends with, if you do not keep secrets from them! And suddenly, this group of intimidating people is being intimidating for *your* cause. They are defending you; they are keeping you from harm...they are good at doing that, too!"
Suddenly the gravekeeper stopped, and realized just what he had said, and the look of utmost horror in his eyes was almost frightening.
Ravenloft GM: Eye of Anubis, Shattered City, and Prof. Lupescu's Traveling Ghost Show
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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The Whistler
- Evil Genius
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Otto tsked under his breath, looking sympathetic. He would have put his arm around the man if he hadn't thought the gesture would send him into cardiac arrest.
"There, there... There will *always* be someone to be concerned about, in a delicate profession such as the one you are in. But I am assuring you: we are a group of people who have protected...people in delicate professions from...people to be concerned about, before."
Wait--did I just cite *Nizam* as a positive example case?
He made eye contact with the man; sincere. "Now, if you would prefer to talk about it apart from this...crowd, I am amenable to this. I know how it can seem when there are many against one... I promise that I am an understanding person with which to talk, and a good person for being an advocate...but I cannot help you if you will not speak at all."
"There, there... There will *always* be someone to be concerned about, in a delicate profession such as the one you are in. But I am assuring you: we are a group of people who have protected...people in delicate professions from...people to be concerned about, before."
Wait--did I just cite *Nizam* as a positive example case?
He made eye contact with the man; sincere. "Now, if you would prefer to talk about it apart from this...crowd, I am amenable to this. I know how it can seem when there are many against one... I promise that I am an understanding person with which to talk, and a good person for being an advocate...but I cannot help you if you will not speak at all."
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yalenusveler
- Evil Genius
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- Joined: Thu Nov 29, 2007 10:44 pm
- Location: Pennsylvania...or Baator
Andre had been watching the goings on quietly. Talking..not really his strong point. Especially after the morning funeral services. Ibn...hmm, a Cavendish disguise? He mused, watching Otto talk to the caretaker, letting him do his job...while himself looking out for anything suspicious.
"Sometimes, Mr.Liquor cabinet is my only friend"
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Kaitou Kage
- Evil Genius
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- Location: Here and there
- Contact:
Kuzan listened to the whole exchange until the gravekeeper fumbled over the name.
"Ibn who?" the priest repeated. He couldn't think of anyone off-hand named Ibn-anything. So the priest gravitated toward the rear of the group.
"Did you hear what he said?" he asked Judge al-Shirazi in hushed tones, "Something about an Ibn Say...and then he cut off. Do you recognize the name?"
"Ibn who?" the priest repeated. He couldn't think of anyone off-hand named Ibn-anything. So the priest gravitated toward the rear of the group.
"Did you hear what he said?" he asked Judge al-Shirazi in hushed tones, "Something about an Ibn Say...and then he cut off. Do you recognize the name?"
Ishaq remained quiet throughout the exchange. He did notice how nervous the gravekeeper appeared. This was not only due to the fact that there were many foreiegners now wanting to go search around the Necropolis. There was more he wasn't saying. Then he let the Ibn Say.... slip out.
Ishaq approached the gravekeeper and bowing to him, spoke gently in Phirazi "Most honored gravekeeper. I am Ishaq and a guard with these kind foreigners. They merely wish to investigate the Necropolis on the authority of the Prophet himself. Anything you may have knowledge of, is better to be told to them now before it is found out you are implicated. That would be terrible for you. We can help you if you tell us what you know. If not, well, you know the laws here in our great city. So help yourself and these fine men and women. As much for themselves as for yourself. You will be a better man for it." Ishaq smiled reassuringly at the man.
Ishaq approached the gravekeeper and bowing to him, spoke gently in Phirazi "Most honored gravekeeper. I am Ishaq and a guard with these kind foreigners. They merely wish to investigate the Necropolis on the authority of the Prophet himself. Anything you may have knowledge of, is better to be told to them now before it is found out you are implicated. That would be terrible for you. We can help you if you tell us what you know. If not, well, you know the laws here in our great city. So help yourself and these fine men and women. As much for themselves as for yourself. You will be a better man for it." Ishaq smiled reassuringly at the man.