Café de Nuit

"We should live, if we do nothing too stupid," Lia says, her tone of voice very even. "Now. Do we enter by the front door, or look for the back entrance?"

Richard wrote:"And, and he is putting a great deal of trust in, in us. I, I imagine if he had any help to, to spare he wouldn't be letting us continue with this investigation."

"Hardly trust, Mr. Blackwood." Agale said with a shake of his head, voicing his own theory. "To put it simply, we are in a position where we are deniable, and unfortunately, expendable assets as far as the Commissioner is concerned."

Richard wrote:"But are, are we alright for this?"

Agale took a deep breath and re-cinched his tie. "Perhaps not, but if we do not make an effort at an offensive, I fear we shall suffer by attrition instead." He examined the window, then surreptitiously checked the street for passers by. "Warrant or no, even the appearance of illicit activities should be avoided as much as possible. If one of you more athletically minded fellows would be so kind as to open the door. No need to employ force where subtlety will be sufficient." He gestured toward the open window.

M. Agale wrote:"Hardly trust, Mr. Blackwood." Agale said with a shake of his head, voicing his own theory. "To put it simply, we are in a position where we are deniable, and unfortunately, expendable assets as far as the Commissioner is concerned."

"Practical as ever, my dear M. Agale, but I fear a touch less charitable than is warranted--from my experiences with the good Commissioner, I should think him utterly incapable of knowingly placing a band of friends and allies in peril."

She smiled encouragingly at the lawyer, clearly not holding his opinion against him. That his opinion was likely correct, from an objective standpoint, seemed not even to enter her mind.

Celeste looked up at the building thoughtfully.

"Two infiltrations in the space of one night! I daresay I shall be a full-fledged expert at the subtle art before the week is finished! Sadly, the épie-sur-bateau is woefully ill-designed for the task before us, and I have not had the proper wherewithal to change into something more fitting...perhaps one more skilled at such things might prove better-suited?"

Darius frowns slightly, hands his sword to Cyrus, and goes to the window, pulling himself into a perch in the window frame with a single smooth motion and pushing the window open. Ducking his head inside, he observes the interior while making a "come here" gesture to his sword, which obliges him by disappearing from Cyrus' hand and appearing in his.

Athletics check 25, perception 7, but I do have low-light vision, so...it could be worse!

Tomas crosses his arms, mostly because he was looking forward to kicking the door down.

"Richard." Eisenwald asks, "Do you know anything about the stained glass? How it is made?"

Cyrus gave the others a dour look as if to say "less talking, more doing" and followed in after his brother. The slightly elder Isfahani had been largely silent since leaving the Archeron -- so much so that it was easy to forget he was even there. He said nothing other than a few words muttered in Vaasi to his brother.

So quiet and unobtrusive was he that you barely noticed him following his brother through the window. The chains and symbols on his regalia fell preternaturally silent and he simply vanished into the darkness of the townhouse's interior.

Perception of 33 inside the apartment, with low-light vision.
Stealth of 32.

Oh, yeah, and I'm spending healing surges somewhere in there.

47 Rue Foyle, Quartier Savant, Port-a-Lucine; Late Night of March 24th, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Agale wrote:"Hardly trust, Mr. Blackwood." Agale said with a shake of his head, voicing his own theory. "To put it simply, we are in a position where we are deniable, and unfortunately, expendable assets as far as the Commissioner is concerned."

Nerit wrote:"Have faith, Richard," Nerit raised her eyebrows as she said this, expectant.

In her usual chameleon shift of mood, she added, "Beside, there are a dozen of us. Defendit numerus." She smiled.

Richard seemed duly reprimanded by this, but he couldn't quite return her smile. The people most maimed by the incident aboard the ship hadn't weighed in to his satisfaction, but he wasn't going to bring it up again. Agale's statement caused him to give lawyer an empty eyed look, but since he had clearly been thinking the same thing, there wasn't much he could do to argue.

"Whatever, whatever the Captain found here, it killed his, his entire squad," Richard noted quietly, before he silently sketched the shield over his chest. His hand wasn't on his blade, but from the way he held his coat, the pistol hidden in his pockets could be in his hands in seconds. The young man gravitated deliberately toward Kerrian. It seemed a fitting reciprocation for the the concern that Kerrian had shown for him before, at the Tessier, and also perhaps fitting revenge for the overprotectiveness from the same incident.

Tomas wrote:"Richard." Eisenwald asks, "Do you know anything about the stained glass? How it is made?"

"Ah, let, let me try to recall. I, I believe the glass is colored with, with metal oxide pigments when it's molten," Richard said, using what Tomas recognized as the proper Lamordian word for the substance as opposed to the typical alchemical one. "It was cobolt for, for blue glass, copper, copper for green, silver nitrate for yellow, and red was, was-"

"Blood?" Cerise suggested, chipperly.

"...gold," Richard corrected, sounding a little pained.

"Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I read about this one guy who used the blood of the woman who jilted him. Then the whole window came alive at night until he went insane, and then he vanished and appeared in the window too, frozen screaming," Cerise said. "Blood would probably have been much cheaper than gold. I bet he saved a bunch."

"I don't, I don't think that would work," Richard replied, with a beleaguered look, desperately pressing on. "You have, have to do something different for detailing, but I, I never learned what. Once the glass is, is cut it's soldered with lead, and, and waterproofed. You, you would have to ask a glazier for specifics." He tilted his head slightly to the side. "It's, it's not typically reflective, if, if that's what you're thinking."

Darius wrote:Ducking his head inside, Darius observes the interior while making a "come here" gesture to his sword, which obliges him by disappearing from Cyrus' hand and appearing in his.

Cyrus wrote:So quiet and unobtrusive was he that you barely noticed him following his brother through the window. The chains and symbols on his regalia fell preternaturally silent and he simply vanished into the darkness of the townhouse's interior.

You felt as though you had stepped into another world. The townhouse was luxuriously appointed, the height of Dementlieuse petty-aristocratic taste. Fabrics in dark red and somber gold covered the walls, and carpets in a faux-Hazlani style lay about the interior. Dark, cherry-wood tables stood with crystal vases in them, the cloth flowers poking out at you. There were paintings lining all of the walls, portraits of people in archaic dress, the dead staring down at you.

Everywhere was a truly inordinate amount of glass. All of the paintings were covered in glass panels, all of the tables were topped with reflective crystal. But more than either of those were the mirrors, dozens of them. They were mostly elaborate mirrors, large glass plates in gilt frames. Many hung on the walls, others were stand-alone, ovals as large as Tomas that stood on clawed feet. There was a very great deal of glass in the townhouse.

Up above, the ceiling creaked lightly, as someone moved about on the floor above you.

"It's, it's not typically reflective, if, if that's what you're thinking."

Tomas looks at Richard, really looks at him, giving the boy the sort of once over he usually saves for people who might be trying to kill him eventually. Its not directly threatening but when Tomas is not sporting a buffoonish grin, his face usually seems uncomfortably intense anyway. Tomas's hand raises to wipe at his forehead, softly but firmly as though trying to get something stubborn off of his skin. His glance passes Cerise, and for a moment the intensity of Eisenwald's stare magnifies; like how the sun seems to get brighter and more difficult to see the closer you try to look at it.

If Richard or Cerise look behind them, they may realize that Tomas is glaring at his reflection, rather than the masculine Blackwood or adorably ghoulish nurse. Either way, Tomas gives Richard a wink, as if to say, 'I'll tell you later.', and goes back to worrying about the fact that the woman in Cerise's story was afraid of metal rather than her own reflection.

Up above, the ceiling creaked lightly, as someone moved about on the floor above you.

Tomas's expression turns to a grimace of pain; he's bitten his tongue to avoid calling out at the shocking noise. Eisenwald ribs the hilt of Ivorsen as though comforting a startled but loyal dog, taking a second to focus his attention before waiting for a friend more skilled at stealth to report.

(24 on insight. Also spent my last reroll die-but man, I ain't getting a natural 1 on here. No sir.)

As soon as Lia is inside and sees all the reflective surfaces in just this room ...

"Demutatio," the Mage whispers, one hand raised against the nearest piece of man-sized glass. The reflective surface starts to black over, as if specks of sticky soot are snowing down out of thin air onto the glass.

Lia turns to the next man-sized piece of glass, lips compressed in a thin line of fury. "Demutatio," she whispers again, hand upraised in a gesture that somehow combines demand with condemnation. Again, blackness swirls down out of nowhere.

And once more: "Demutatio." One more slab of glass blacks over.

"I can cover no more," Lia grumbles. "Let us move on with things."

(OOC: Using Prestidigitation to cover three of the human-sized surfaces. I can do that again in the next room, if necessary - and nobody objects. )

Kerrian wasn't exactly comfortable with all the breaking and entering, especially into places where an entire squad of gendarmes were potentially slaughtered. Thinking back to what had happened to Cedolin however, it quickly became apparent that this was something he had to do out of a sense of obligation.

Either way, the creaking of someone being home..wasn't exactly the most reassuring of things to hear, causing him to clutch the small wooden totem he carried with him all the tighter.

OOC:24 insight, 13 perception. Also, spending 4 healing surges, unless Nicolas used song of rest, in which case it's only three.

The obvious question is, What is making that noise? And on a night when he had not already been assaulted by eldritch ex-officers of the law and magic lanterns, Darius might just go upstairs and find out while leaving those less adventurous souls who do not care to come in through the window to cool their heels.

But spontaneous investigations are not why he went in through the window, and, ridiculous as many of these people are, most of them are actually handy in a fight. So, he pads to the front door and opens it, making an elaborate "please enter" gesture with his free hand before turning and going up the stair.

Assumes we don't have to open doors etc. to find the staircase, also that nobody tries to prevent him from going up the stair. Please tick off three healing surges (or two if Nicolas has "encouraged" us with his recitations), which I believe should be good for full hit points if three and 56/60 if two.

Without any self-consciousness, Nerit followed Richard in his gravitation to Kerrian.

Nerit was both bemused and amused by Lia's use of her native tongue. While highly ceremonial, it wasn't exactly archaic or dead.

She paused to peer about the (now dimmer?) elaborate room, and tapped Richard's arm. "They have magic," she whispered, and pointed. "Obviously."



Then she stopped. Apparently she had thought about what she had noticed, or sensed more. And didn't like it.

"Let me go first," she said, and narrowly avoided a glass table by swinging out her hips and leaning around it as she strode to the nearest available hallway.


Since this came from mirror-boy's journal, I say Arcana!: 25
And Insight because Isy told me so!: 26
Feel free to stop her if you want to discuss things rationally ;D

Nicholas gives a brief snort as he is jostled awake by the group heading in the newly opened front door. The poet stretches himself and moves away from his improbable resting place against the door frame, helps himself to a pinch form his snuffbox, then far more alert gestures the others inside.

He isn’t quite as silent as everyone else though, in fact he's still humming the refrain from that damned tune he struck up rather drunkenly once he hit the street outside the Palais de Justice. The performance might have been a long way from award winning (and slightly incomprehensible in places), but something about it was comforting and lifted all your tired spirits.

Crossing the threshold, he notes the look on Darius' face and falls silent, well almost, he can’t resist a quip to take the edge off the drama of the moment, and rile the dour Hazlani slightly. "Once more into adversity then?" He says with a wink "I myself have always believed that adversity is the first path to truth, let us see what price we are asked to pay for truth this night ." Drawing a pistol from beneath his coat he composes his face into a mock serious look, flicks the switch to “all business Nicholas” and heads down the hallway, listening intently.

Unless the DM’s have objections, consider yourselves all subjected to Nicholas Song of Rest and gain 4 extra hp per healing surge spent (I’ll leave the SAN loss up to Nyarlath... er I mean Neo to judge).

Nicholas will use one of his own healing surges just to top up

Then Insight 17 & Perception 25

Sword in hand, Cyrus kept to the shadows and waited for his brother to finish, then followed the younger twin up the stairs. The dommer was utterly silent as he crept after his bodyguard, like a shadow flitting through the darkness. He knew exactly where to step to avoid making the floors creak and avoided objects in his way. It was odd seeing the boisterous Hazlani so utterly quiet.

Staying stealthy as I follow my brother along

Mr. Agale hesitates a moment before following everyone else into the foyer. He sniffed the air disdainfully and scanned the room. He nods approvingly at Ms. Mournswraith's precautions.

Nerit wrote:"Let me go first,"

"Are you certain that is advisable Sister? Real or no, magic or no, the destruction wrought by whatever force we faced on the Archeron was deadly." He remarks in a whisper, but makes no effort to stand in her way.

Nicolas wrote:"I myself have always believed that adversity is the first path to truth, let us see what price we are asked to pay for truth this night ."

"An intriguing philosophy Mr. de Castigne. I have always held that 'truth' is subjective, a malleable to the needs of the masterful."

Insight of 10, Perception of 19