The Shattered City: Chapter Four

[Nathan of the FoS]

Mercator sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose briefly. "Mademoiselle Huldra, Monsieur Eisenwald, perhaps this is not the right venue to broker a peace between an entire race of the faery-folk and a divine being. Mademoiselle, I hope you can see that Monsieur Eisenwald is naturally reluctant to commit himself to what is, if I may say so, an extremely open-ended commitment which involves a great number of people who are not here and whose good intentions cannot be vouched for. It is also not clear what you are offering in exchange for such a commitment. None of us have any interest in harming you at all; on the contrary, we want your help and your goodwill for a project which, it seems, you would also wish to see completed. It therefore behooves all of us to work together to achieve it. Perhaps, as Monsieur de Castaigne suggests, it would be most profitable to set aside the question of this historical enmity, with the understanding that for this night at least we are all working together."

Diplomacy 20 to Aid Another on Nick's check

[The Whistler]

"Hear, hear, in fellow-feeling's name!" Celeste seemed intent on making this a hands-across-the-Shadow-Rift moment, though she was quite gung-ho enough to pull it off under most circumstances. "Apart from his gentle yet misguided efforts at dissuading me from my sworn duty, Mlle. Halvari, I feel Monsieur de Castaigne has quite the right of the situation--with all respect intended, of course! I assure you: leave us to conduct the ritual together, in the spirit of amity which such an onerous undertaking rightfully deserves, and neither the good M. Eisenwald or any of our band shall treat you so falsely." Winning smile.

21 Diplomacy, Aiding de Castaigne

[NeoTiamat]

1 Days, 22 Hours, 18 Minutes
Inky's Emporium, The Midnight Market, Just past Midnight on April 23rd, 770
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“Sending the White Knight away probably would not work, either. Who only knows what will happen once this ritual begins? Trust me, you will not regret having Herr Eisenwald's strong right arm and virtuous heart here if something unpleasant appears as a reaction to this ritual. A Grim Reaper, for instance, has a capacity for being very unreasonable."

. "And you Madame, perhaps a concession on your part as well? Perhaps Herr Eisenwald might swear no harm to you personally for the duration of your engagement with us?" He smiles winningly at Inkeri.

“You're offering something worthless.” Inkeri said with a disdainful look at Nicolas and Lia. “This is the Midnight Market, there's no violence here. Not even a Reaper would break the strictures here. And I'd like to see Lothurr Lightning-God try.”

"Look, I'll leave the shop if its that bad....But I'm not promising anything like that. If there's wrong doing I can oppose, I'm going to fight it, human, fairy, ghost or god. Or have your people completely given up that old 'seduce men and drag them to the netherworld' habit?"

“Fine. Stay.” Inkeri said with a huff of breath. The slim little Faerie emerged from behind Agale, then retreated back into the depths of the tent, disappearing behind a beaded curtain. “Just don't touch anything, don't break anything, don't talk to me and no lightning in the shop.”

It is also not clear what you are offering in exchange for such a commitment."

“I am offering to do this divination in the first place!” Inky's voice came from behind the beaded curtain, where her silhouette could be seen going through pots and jars and drawers. She sounded a little irritated at the question. “I mean, I'm going to be divining a way to exorcise a dangerous demigod, and maybe annoying the Triarchs at the same time!”

There was a loud screech of iron on iron followed by some clattering of more pots and pans. Inkeri Halvari returned now, clutching a long wooden pole in one hand, and a cast-iron bedstead in the other. The thing must have weighed four hundred pounds if it weighed an ounce. No mattress, no pillow, just the metal frame. “That's what I'm offering! Even though you're being absolutely beastly to little me.”

Inky put the bed down in the threshold of the inner and outer tent, and then hung the wooden pole above it. There was a moment of thought, and then Inky fetched a coverlet, which she spread on the cast iron bed. Inkeri surveyed this for a moment, then took a tiny bottle of dark crystal, which she passed to Rex along with a glass cup. “Measure out the dosage into the cup, please.”

“Now what are you offering me? Fifteen hundred insignes is my price for this divination. Or something of equivalent value.” This last was said with a rather meaningful glare at Tomas.

You mentally did the conversions. The insigne, more commonly called the crown, was the platinum coinage of Darkon. Ignoring minor fluctuations of exchange rates, this came out to fifteen hundred coronas, or one hundred and fifty thousand gold solars. Noble estates have sold for less.

“Lie down dear.” Inky said to Celeste while you did the calculations in your head. Inky picked up the ladle and bent it back into proper shape, resting it against the foot of the bed for the moment. The huldra proceeded to fetch the pot of water, glancing at Celeste. “Watch your head, I'm going to need to hang this over you.”

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Nobody fights at the Midnight Market," Lia whispers to Tomas and Nicolas, "and nobody kills a Triarch, either."

Out loud, she says: "How about a discount in the name of enlightened self-interest, madame? After all, if we succeed, you benefit by not having the position of your Triarch filled by a human who is reversing the process."

[DocBeard]

"And I'd like to see Lothurr Lightning-God try."

"Stop calling me that!" Tomas enthuses, angry at himself because in spite of three people speaking in his defense, a tiny, secret part of Tomas is screaming, chomping through its metaphorical bit at the prospect of such a challenge. What kind of god was Lothurr anyway?! "I'm Lamordian for reason's sake! And the only time I've even been to Graben was when that fiend's butler jumped me...what kind of butler can move like that anyway?!"

And then these prices! Oi! Tomas is about to start shouting when he realizes that will probably just make things worse. Okay, definitely will just make things worse. Instead, he steps over to Professor Petrik, closes his eyes and counts to ten, and does his level best to sound deferential.

"Madame Professor." Tomas says, "May I speak to you outside for a moment? I need your advice on a possible payment."

ONE CONSULTATION LATER;

Tomas returns, looking singularly dissatisfied with the events. He lets out a long, low sigh, rubs his face, looks back to Petrik as though about to say, 'Aw mawm, do I haaaave to?!', swallows his pride, chokes on it a little, and steps forward, again ignoring Inkeri's demand he not speak to her.

"Add 'except in self defense.' on the end, and I'll take your oath." Tomas speaks in the calm, measured, mature tone of an eight year old forced to apologize to a playground rival. "And I'll take it properly, as long as I may have Professor Petrik or Lia as a witness. Agreed?"

[Nathan of the FoS]

Moving to the bed, Mercator reaches into an inner pocket and brings out two small crystalline vials. He taps one gently against the head of the bed and sets it on the ground, then moves to the foot of the bed and repeats the procedure. The vials produce a peculiarly clear tone which seems to linger in the mind even after the sound has faded away.

[The Whistler]

“Watch your head, I'm going to need to hang this over you.”

"Thank you, madamoiselle!" Celeste lowered herself onto the bedstead with a surprising amount of dignity, accepting the Huldra's steadying hand. "Now: I place myself entirely within your care, and thus you shall to guide me through the process with every solicitude that your profession warrants. Oh, my confidence is unstinting Mlle. Halvari! I am quite certain that we shall meet with the success that our common determination so justly demands."

[Kaitou Kage]

Rex remained unruffled during the little storm that erupted between the huldra and his housemates. They bickered and argued, but it seemed to make no impression on him. His eyes flicked back and forth, from one to the next as each emphatically stated his or her case, but he said nothing. If anyone even noticed him, they might see the calculating look deep in his eyes. The pharmacist appeared to be taking mental notes.

He took the bottle from Inkeri and examined it briefly. Disappointment flickered across his face for an instant, and then it was gone. He began pouring carefully, measuring just so, when Mercator interrupted with his bizarre noisemakers.

"Is this a clinical treatment, Doctor?" Rex asked quietly, "I am unfamiliar with this method."

He finished pouring the dose and looked at Celeste. "I have attempted to minimize your discomfort, Miss Viardot," he said softly, "But I cannot promise it will be completely painless. Chemicals react a little differently from one person to the next. Normally ingesting a large amount will cause a rapid collapse. However, you may experience terrible shortness of breath and difficulty breathing both before and after you fall into a coma. It may affect the functioning of your heart in the long term." The pharmacist paused, as if considering whether to go on. Then he continued. "It will also cause your complexion to redden, but should you survive, this will be temporary and should fade quickly. I will remain as close as possible. If you change your mind and need the antidote, squeeze my arm. Do you have any questions?"

It was like dealing with any other customer, only Rex was about to administer a potentially lethal dose of "prescription" to his client. He seemed oddly calm, but in the few days since he moved to the Chateau, very few things seemed to bother him.

And with any luck, Celeste was dressed to make a cherry-red complexion work.

Thievery 19

[Nathan of the FoS]

Mercator gives Rex a quick look in response to his question, as if perhaps he would have been better pleased not to have his actions remarked on; then he shrugs very slightly. "It might be described as an invocation," he murmurs. "To invite benign astral influences."

[yalenusveler]

"I have to agree with her" Kerrian said, gesturing towards Lia. "Dosen't helping us really sort of go with your own interests? Because from what we've gathered...really, there isn't much time to resolve this situation, and you've made your opinion on it pretty clear. I'm not saying that there wouldn't be any financial compensation..just what you're asking is a bit much for what ultimately..does benefit you and yours probably just as much as us."

Kerrian turned his gaze to Celeste, an obvious mask of worry. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

[Nerit]

Nerit rolled her eyes, a rare sight. The nun--though little about her appearance would have hinted to that--crossed her arms and sighed toward Inkeri. "I apologize, Mademoiselle. I do not think they realize the meaning of Tomas' truce. It will more than suffice. I shall watch him like a hawk to make sure it is followed to a tittle."

[lostboy]

Nicolas sighs and lights a cigarette. They were in a tent after all and Benoitisms didn't apply. "Well I'm out of coin as it is, so I would hope the good sister's words ring true." He says with a wink in Nerit's direction and a ginger pat on Tomas' arm (in case some god takes offence at , well just about everything in the poet's existence).

Then kneeling by Celeste he offers some advice. "Now, and do trust me that this is important mademoiselle, should the black tide rise over your consciousness, do not fight it. I know this seems advice against the grain of intuition but heed the words of one who ingests poison for fun, do not fight this. Accept what comes, and ...well try and enjoy the experience." He offers with a watery smile. "I would rather this was me than you, but as you seem dedicated to this course, I shall not try and dissuade you further. But rest assured we are all here at arm's length should you need us."

[NeoTiamat]

1 Days, 22 Hours, 11 Minutes
Inky's Emporium, The Midnight Market, Just past Midnight on April 23rd, 770
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"Add 'except in self defense.' on the end, and I'll take your oath." Tomas speaks in the calm, measured, mature tone of an eight year old forced to apologize to a playground rival. "And I'll take it properly, as long as I may have Professor Petrik or Lia as a witness. Agreed?"

Inkeri looked up from her preparations for the ritual, regarding Tomas slowly. For a moment, it seemed as though she was about to say something, but instead she thought. Then after a moment, the huldra nodded her head. “Agreed.”

“We can do the full oath on... the night of the 30th? It's one of those nights.” Inky said, in a tone of voice not very different from that of Tomas. “Oh, I wish we had a mountain... though we've a hill, I suppose. But agreed. Your oath to never harm a huldra save in self-defense, and I'll do my best to help save your friend.”

The huldra picked up the cast-iron pot of water and hung it over Celeste's chest, then proceeded to pour a number of peculiar substances into the pot before stirring them with her ladle. “I'll try and be quick, but you'll need to be on death's door for a little while for me to learn how to help your friend.”

Inky withdrew her ladle and pointed it at Rex. “You be ready to give her the antidote if you think she's about to die for real.”

“Whenever you're ready,” Inky said, now looking at Celeste, “Drink the poison.”

Gentlemen, if you wish to roll Heal checks to keep Celeste alive, do so now.

[Cronax]

It took a solid minute for Mr. Agale to recover from Ms. Halveri's death grip. He glares at Tomas when he at first refuses the promise. When Mr. Eisenwald returns seeing reason, he gives the man a curt nod of appreciation and begins preparing a mental checklist of potential loopholes for the Lamordian's benefit.

"and maybe annoying the Triarchs at the same time!"

"I'm afraid I do not follow. Would not these Triarchs welcome any endeavor which works to restore the status quo concerning the avatar of death?" Agale asked. The legendary capriciousness of the faerie duly considered, he was not yet dissuaded from arranging a meeting with the remaining fey lords.

Too late for a shot of sonic resistance from nick to save me a few hp?

[Nathan of the FoS]

Mercator moves to where Celeste sits and says, "Very well, mademoiselle. Drink..." he makes a quick mental estimate of her body weight and overall health and continues, "the whole glass of it, and..."

Something in the back of his mind chimes, and he has a moment's vision of the iron bedstand as a catafalque, Celeste pale and lifeless, covered in a flood of red rose petals, as Thierri looks down in sorrow and triumph.

"Half," he says, a little louder than is really necessary. "No more than half, and slowly."

Heal check 10, which is a natural 1. Heal check 20 on the re-roll.