The Shattered City: Chapter Three

[The Whistler]

"Trading, things like that. Gentlemen, ladies, if I may introduce you to M. Maurice, the local factor."

M. Maurice bowed awkwardly. He was a short, well-fed looking man in his middle years, with a broad, waxed mustache and the look of a petty merchant about him. "Charmed."

"Likewise!" Celeste curtseyed brightly, trotting around to Bertriz and the factor and keeping her voice relatively low, so as not to disturb the storytelling.

"I daresay it must be a pleasure to visit such a picturesque locale in the course of your business, Mlle. Renier--and still more pleasurable to reside in it, M. Maurice! Present conditions notwithstanding, of course--oh, but I do not mean to make light of your current difficulties. I have been acquainted with a certain M. T_______ for some time now--such a one as also makes his living from the country soil--and he was confiding to me just this past week about the difficulties of this present blight... Oh, it is a beastly business!"

Those with a copy of Dementlieu's Registry of Noble Persons might have recalled that "M. T______" was more properly known as "Sir T______", and that he "made his living from the country soil" in the sense that he told a staff of 150 to do it for him. It did not appear as if Celeste grasped the distinction.

"Tell me, M. Maurice--oh, I hope that it has not been too awful a strain upon your own business dealings!"

[NeoTiamat]

Center of Troischamps, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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"Tell me, M. Maurice--oh, I hope that it has not been too awful a strain upon your own business dealings!"

"No, Mademouselle. It has not." The merchant said, the tips of his waxed mustache quivering in the air. He glanced at Bertriz and said nothing more.

"Business has been rather good, as a matter of fact, despite all the recent upheaval. I'll admit we don't come out as often as we do, but Troischamps is beautiful." Bertriz lied politely. One did not need to look at Bertriz long that she was most at home somewhere with fewer farmers and more high-fashion. "Still, what brings you here?"

Meanwhile, while the two ladies and M. Maurice talked (or stayed silent in the latter case), Christophe continued his story, continuing it a good deal past it's traditional conclusion, with the village elders cheating the Piper, who returned to take away all of the children and disappeared.

Here, Christophe departed from the usual text with the invention of a noble young mother, who sought out the magical Piper and eventually convinced him to bring back the children, while in the meantime the grief-stricken village elders were persuaded to cough up the money owed to the Piper. In the end, a happy ending for all.

All this was told with much gesticulation and an array of animal noises when the young mother passed through a haunted forest after the Piper, along with more whistling. On the whole, storytelling was not one of Christophe's talents, but he made up with enthusiasm what he lacked in skill.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"'Finding the dog and putting it down'?" Lia repeats Kerrian's words. For a moment she looks stern, and then ... she smiles. It is a private smile, aimed solely at Kerrian. It is also unpleasantly savage. "I like it," the Mage proclaims. "Nice and direct."

[DocBeard]

Tomas cannot keep a frown off of his face, and lights his pipe instead of talking. He'll let Celeste be the face for now, economic politics tend to leave him too grumpy.

Christophe is altogether more tolerable, and Eisenwald winks at the big man. "Interesting heroine, mes amis. Someone you have experience with?"

[Cronax]

Agale remained silent throughout Philippe's accounting of the night. He paced a small circuit back and forth, eyes closed and hands steepled in intense concentration. Once Philippe had finished, Agale's questioning began in earnest.

"You say the creature ceased its pursuit rather abruptly. Try to remember the precise circumstances when it stopped. Where there any memorable smells or noises? Did you notice any unusual flora? Any minutia may be helpful when this beast is tracked down and dealt with." Once more the lawyer's voice was soothing, coaxing each response out like a practiced fisherman tending a line.

This Charnel Hound is probably that source. I can't say what happened to Rachel, I'm trying to be guardedly optimistic if it let you live..but I don't want to be a merchant of false hope."

"Would you please elaborate Mr. Mauganson, are we dealing with another Weird or something else entirely? Also, this girl Rachel, she is also a resident of Troischamps as well? It may also be helpful to interview her family if they can be contacted." The latter he directed in the vicinity of both Thierri and Reynard.

[The Whistler]

"Still, what brings you here?"

Celeste pursed her lips judiciously. Again, "I am here to cheer on my heavily armed cohorts whilst they slay an unholy abomination" was probably not the best way to direct the conversation. Mlle. Viardot may have been a gregarious soul, but that didn't preclude her being discreet.

Still and all, there was no reason to lie--Bertriz did seem a pleasant enough sort, which qualified her for Celeste's pool of potential friendships. True, this was a rather large pool, but no less earnestly upheld for that. Thus, Celeste's response was something of a compromise:

"Ah, Mlle. Renier, we come in support of our dear friend and housemate...you have met M. Thierri Boucher, have you not? It is so difficult to recall the social components of that doleful night at the Gallery; he was present then, yes, but I am afraid I utterly fail to remember whether I introduced you. Never matter: suffice it to say that he is a fine, upstanding fellow, and truly gifted in matters arcane. Why, when he alerted we of the Chateau to the sad injury of his brother--a resident of this very town!--we were simply moved as one to travel hence, and so to provide his family with well-deserved succor."

[NeoTiamat]

Boucher Farmhouse, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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"I'm sorry, but I forget ... Did you say whether there was an Anchorite actually worth his or her salt in town?"

Reynard shook his head. "We got an anchorite that travels between some of the outlying towns nearby. Town they were in at the time got put under quarantine."

"And ... might I perhaps offer to set up a protective ward in your house? It might not do any good, but then again, it might."

"So long as you don't rip up half the floor while doing it," Reynard acquiesced, with a meaningful look toward Thierri.

"The care you've been getting is about the best you can be receiving right now."

Philippe gave a pained grin. "You're kidding, right? I coulda sworn this was just Thierri's revenge for all those headlocks I put him in."

Thierri's expression went completely flat, and he glanced back at all of you before folding his arms. "Kindly do not equate me with your and Gaston's petty vindictiveness," he admonished his brother.

"If I had time, I could probably work up something to help with the fever, assuming that the blight hasn't hit the plants I'd use. This leaves our best option as being finding this dog thing, and putting it down."

"I like it," the Mage proclaims. "Nice and direct."

There was an awkward silence in response to this. Reynard shifted against the doorframe and folded his arms, but Philippe looked at his brother as if Thierri was a lit powder keg. Thierri himself didn't move, react, or say anything, staring intently forward at an empty point in space.

"You may rest assured I will do everything in my power to find a cure for this," Thierri finally replied.

Also, this girl Rachel, she is also a resident of Troischamps as well? It may also be helpful to interview her family if they can be contacted." The latter he directed in the vicinity of both Thierri and Reynard.

"M. Duclos," Reynard said, jerking his thumb to the east. Once again there was a faint tightness around the mouth and voice that told that the farmer was furious. "Wouldn't recommend asking him about the hound. He perfers to blame my boy."

Philippe looked sicker than usual at the mention.

"You say the creature ceased its pursuit rather abruptly. Try to remember the precise circumstances when it stopped. Where there any memorable smells or noises? Did you notice any unusual flora? Any minutia may be helpful when this beast is tracked down and dealt with."

"I can't think of anything," Philippe said, apologetically. It was doubtful he'd had anything on his mind at the time but the hound.

"I have an answer for that," Thierri told you, standing up. "I will leave it to your own judgment whether it is conducive to your efforts."

Boucher Farmstead, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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The tool shed was only a stone's throw away from the house, so Thierri felt comfortable in going there now, seeing as his brother was not a hundred feet away should you have anything more to ask. Indeed, it was likely the close proximity that convinced Thierri to leave his brother's side. If Philippe suddenly took a turn for the worse, the few seconds it would take to make it back to the house wouldn't make that much of a difference. The young magician knelt by an out of the way corner of the shed, brushing away dirt until he found what he was looking for: a rusty nail head, hammered into the ground. Sitting back for a moment in satisfaction, Thierri excavated around the earth, revealing a five-foot circle of the rusty metal.

"It was an experiment intended to create a barrier against the living dead," Thierri explained, looking at the circle with a nostalgic fondness, like it was an old toy from his childhood. "The method was crude, but the results undeniably effective."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia squats down at the edge of the circle of nails, hands on her knees, and leans forward to look at it more closely. She does not extend as much as a finger to touch it, however; all she does is look, with an intensity not usually reserved for nails pounded into the earth.

"This is good work," she says, almost as if she's talking to herself. "Hmmm. If we accept the theory of a translated symmetry between ley line tapping and acupuncture energy line theory, then the sustaining formula becomes ..." Lia's voice dies down to a rather technical muttering before she stops staring at the circle and gets back to her feet.

"Your experiment most likely saved your brother's life," she says to Thierri - and bows her head, her right hand pressed to her heart. The gesture looks oddly formal. "I applaud your mastery, monsieur Boucher. Would you care to assist me in setting the ward on your ancestral home?"

(OOC: Arcana check to analyze Thierri's circle of nails: 30.)

[Nathan of the FoS]

Darius looks slightly incredulous at the tale's denoument; if the Piper got rid of all the rats, much remains to be explained about Richemulot, because if there is anything Darius knows about Richemulot, it is very big rats and plenty of them.

Perhaps it was only a temporary relocation. Or perhaps the story began somewhere else and the Piper deposited the rats in Richemulot!

At this point Darius realizes that he is trying to square a children's fairy tale told with copious sound effects with real zoology. Frowning in disgust with himself, he says, perhaps a little gruffly, "So all's well that ends well, monsieur Renier. Your family has business interests here, then?"

[yalenusveler]

"Would you please elaborate Mr. Mauganson, are we dealing with another Weird or something else entirely?"

Kerrian had to think a bit on that question, doing so while they went to investigate Thierri's ward. It was a bit beyond his knowledge of the practice of the magical arts, or at least beyond his praxis, so he had time.

"I think that someone intentionally created it. That necromantic energy caused the blight. The Charnel Hound is an earth elemental with a necromantic aspect of disease tacked on. Whomever is responsible created it to spread plague and suffering amongst outlying towns, and cause them to be quarantined." It was a good theory, but it lacked motive. Till Kerrian began to speak again.

"This isolates the capitol, harms the agricultural base, and drives people stir crazy, making it easier for the anarchistis or the mirror cultists, or whomever is ultimately behind this to do what they want." It was hard for Kerrian to properly articulate the anger this potential motive filled him with, so he let his expression do the talking for him.

"Lia, do you think we could get this ward working on a larger scale? I doubt the hound is just going to lay low now..A safe zone would be an excellent idea. I'm also going to see if I can find any healthy plants that will help with the fever.."

Kerrian then set out to do just that, poking around bushes and the like.

OOC:20 on a nature check

[Cronax]

Agale observed the shed closely, but his disinterest for the minutia of thaumaturgy was apparent. "An impressive feat Mr. Boucher" he remarked. "If you would clarify a few points for those of us not schooled in the ways of magic. If I am correct in my understanding, the efficacy of your experiment verifies that this beast is in fact one of the unliving? And if so, how can that knowledge be used to our advantage in tracking and neutralizing it?"

On a more personal note he asks "I had not wanted to bring this up, but we must consider the reason your brother was attacked. Necro-Elementals are not to my knowledge naturally occurring and lack the cognitive functions beyond those of a wild animal. Given these assumptions, we can infer that the attack was either completely random, in which case someone is guilty of negligence. Or, that it was intentional. Other than the girl's father, can you think of anyone who would harbor ill will towards your brother or his amour for that matter?"

[NeoTiamat]

Boucher Farmstead, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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"Your experiment most likely saved your brother's life," she says to Thierri - and bows her head, her right hand pressed to her heart. The gesture looks oddly formal. "I applaud your mastery, monsieur Boucher. Would you care to assist me in setting the ward on your ancestral home?"

"Lia, do you think we could get this ward working on a larger scale? I doubt the hound is just going to lay low now..A safe zone would be an excellent idea. I'm also going to see if I can find any healthy plants that will help with the fever.."

"Do not doubt it is laying low. What was described to us could wreak havoc unchecked if it desired. Instead, no one has seen it anywhere outside of Troischamps, and only by one man."

"The principle of the ward lends itself easily to expansion," Thierri explained, lighting a cigarette and pensively smoking as he looked down at the nail-circle. "The size of the circle is immaterial beyond the extra precision required to craft something on a larger scale. It is the physical constraints of scribing the ward that limits its size. Chalk will suffice for a small room indoors, but a larger circle would require different tools. If we had something capable of creating a line proportional to the larger size of the ward..."

Thierri trailed off, looking over to where the oxen were, plowing furrows out in the field. You could see a sudden glimmer in his eye, of either brilliance or insanity.

"If I am correct in my understanding, the efficacy of your experiment verifies that this beast is in fact one of the unliving? And if so, how can that knowledge be used to our advantage in tracking and neutralizing it?"

"I did tell you as much," Thierri replied, looking at the lawyer dully. "The living dead are created to negate what advantages one might have against a living creature. They are unfettered mortal needs and do not die when deprived of sustenance. Save for the vampire, they do not sleep. They have no fear of poison or disease." Thierri paused for a moment, letting the smoke escape from his mouth. "The dark power that fuels them is not liked by natural creatures, though many undead bear an affinity for animals. Highly concentrated energy can disrupt the unliving's magical processes, leaving it vulnerable to such attack. Priests in particular are trained to disrupt and manipulate the unliving. Had we an anchorite, holy water would be of use to you, but you must do without. Advances in necromancy make all of these an uncertainty, understand, as a skilled necromancer can avoid such flaws. The study of unlife being banned, there is little specific to tell you."

"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."

On a more personal note he asks "I had not wanted to bring this up, but we must consider the reason your brother was attacked. Necro-Elementals are not to my knowledge naturally occurring and lack the cognitive functions beyond those of a wild animal. Given these assumptions, we can infer that the attack was either completely random, in which case someone is guilty of negligence. Or, that it was intentional. Other than the girl's father, can you think of anyone who would harbor ill will towards your brother or his amour for that matter?"

"Unless Philippe has been jilting young women, there is nothing, nor is there anyone in this town capable of calling such a creature," Thierri replied, soundly slightly derisive at that. "The unliving can rise up without mage or sire. Given that there have been no massacres in this town of late, these ones have not."

Center of Troischamps, a few miles outside of Port-a-Lucine; Mid-afternoon of April 21st, 770
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Christophe is altogether more tolerable, and Eisenwald winks at the big man. "Interesting heroine, mes amis. Someone you have experience with?"

"Afraid not." Christophe said amiably enough, watching his young audience disperse now that story-time was over. A few hopefuls waited around in case of a new story, but the broad-shouldered young man waved them off. "It might be nice, but no."

"So all's well that ends well, monsieur Renier. Your family has business interests here, then?"

"We do. Bertriz handles all of that." Christophe said truthfully, nodding his head towards where the white-haired young woman was trying to stand fast in the face of Celeste. "I'm just here to keep her company."

The fact that Christophe was also some two-hundred and fifty pounds of muscle played no part in the rationale for his presence as an escort, of course.

"Ah, Mlle. Renier, we come in support of our dear friend and housemate...you have met M. Thierri Boucher, have you not? It is so difficult to recall the social components of that doleful night at the Gallery; he was present then, yes, but I am afraid I utterly fail to remember whether I introduced you. Never matter: suffice it to say that he is a fine, upstanding fellow, and truly gifted in matters arcane. Why, when he alerted we of the Chateau to the sad injury of his brother--a resident of this very town!--we were simply moved as one to travel hence, and so to provide his family with well-deserved succor."

"That would be... Philippe Boucher?" Bertriz offered after a moment's thought. She raised an elegant, blond eyebrow at Celeste. "The one M. Duclos is trying to raise a lynch mob against? That's very... brave of you."

The tones of this last indicated that brave was perhaps not the first word that came to Bertriz's mind.

[lostboy]

Nicholas lights his own cigarette as he squats to examine one of the nails, then following Therris gaze to the oxen, he shrugs "worth a shot I would say. The skill required for such a feat is beyond me, but if Mlle Mourneswaithe and yourself feel it possible, I'm game."

Instead, no one has seen it anywhere outside of Troischamps, and only by one man."

"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?"

"If thats all true then it seems a hell of a lot of trouble of raising such a death-haunted beast and then use it for a single attack. If the goal is domain wide panic surely it would be safer to compound the fear with multpile attacks and sightings" He takes a long pull on the cigarette, eyes unfocused for a moment.

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?"

OOC: Ok skill fest usage time:

History for any info on Troischamps that might be relevant or any other similar events that could be sttributed to the death puppy - 29

Nature for anything useful about the nearby landscape and environment that might provide a clue to the puppys current whereabouts - 15

Perception to look for any tracks or other marks in the vicinty of the hut - 19

[DocBeard]

Tomas smiles, and Christopher will remember this smile from that night in the sewers. "Lynch mob, you say?" As another man might say, 'Free cherry tarts and pale ale, you say?'.

[The Whistler]

"That would be... Philippe Boucher?" Bertriz offered after a moment's thought. She raised an elegant, blond eyebrow at Celeste. "The one M. Duclos is trying to raise a lynch mob against? That's very... brave of you."

Celeste lifted her hand to her mouth, justifiably a bit shocked at the news. "Philippe Boucher...the target of antagonism? But surely, he cannot be at fault in such a matter...we were simply informed that he had sustained an injury! Oh, unfortunate circumstance... Mlle. Renier, you must unburden to me the whole of the present situation at once, else our ministrations meet with unwarranted censure!"