Café de Nuit

Bennedict can't quite keep the skeptical look clear of his face at the boatman's declaration of the island's spiritual occupation, but he agrees to the terms.

"There are others who may join me before we depart. I shall await their arrival for a time."

EVENING AT THE WAREHOUSE

SIR CLIVE


Unless he quits his job or can find his boss a satisfactory replacement on short notice, Sir Clive has watch duty again tonight.

So far, it's been a pretty sedate routine at the big waterfront warehouse, night after night. The first night he kicked a trio of loafers off the loading dock, but since then, nothing. No break-in attempts and no weird stuff. He's seen a few mice and rats, though a one-eyed tabby cat helps out with those.

But if the work lacks excitement, it does offer peace and quiet. Clive's purchased a pair of cheaply bound octavo romances. The books are used, but like every book in this world, new to him. He can read the script without difficulty. Sometimes that seems odd...But he can.

The never-failing magical lights fixed high on the walls at two opposite points inside the roomy warehouse (to cut the light, solid brass covers can be moved with the tug of a chain) provide plenty of light for reading if he sits beneath either magic lamp.

The cool air inside smells of sawdust, pine, tar, and tonight something new: spices.

His heavy wooden chair , chamber-pot, and flagon of water cut with vinegar are where he saw them last, pushed up against a wall.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/24/29/44 ... 4fe824.png



NOTE: The awning covers a low loading dock. Wagons roll onto it and can be unloaded from the rear, using the alley as a carry-through space.
Lights are affixed out of arm's reach (thus the chains for moving the covers) on east and west walls, facing.

ewancummins wrote:EVENING AT THE WAREHOUSE

SIR CLIVE


Unless he quits his job or can find his boss a satisfactory replacement on short notice, Sir Clive has watch duty again tonight.

So far, it's been a pretty sedate routine at the big waterfront warehouse, night after night. The first night he kicked a trio of loafers off the loading dock, but since then, nothing. No break-in attempts and no weird stuff. He's seen a few mice and rats, though a one-eyed tabby cat helps out with those.

But if the work lacks excitement, it does offer peace and quiet. Clive's purchased a pair cheaply bound octavo romances. The books are used, but like every book in this world, new to him. He can read the script without difficulty. Sometimes that seems odd...But he can.

The never-failing magical lights fixed high on the walls at two opposite points inside the roomy warehouse (to cut the light, solid brass covers can be moved with the tug of a chain) provide plenty of light for reading if he sits beneath either magic lamp.

The cool air inside smells of sawdust, pine, tar, and tonight something new: spices.

His heavy wooden chair , chamber-pot, and flagon of water cut with vinegar are where he saw them last, pushed up against a wall.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/24/29/44 ... 4fe824.png



NOTE: The awning covers a low loading dock. Wagons roll onto it and can be unloaded from the rear, using the alley as a carry-through space.
Lights are affixed out of arm's reach (thus the chains for moving the covers) on east and west walls, facing.

Sir Clive

The lack of excitement doesn't really bother him, with the peace and quiet comes the opportunity to read and relax. The dutiful knight knows better than to drop his guard, his patrols of the warehouse are anything but static.

RocEter wrote: Sir Clive

The lack of excitement doesn't really bother him, with the peace and quiet comes the opportunity to read and relax. The dutiful knight knows better than to drop his guard, his patrols of the warehouse are anything but static.

Clive has finished two rounds, and is on a break, reading a really good bit in the book when he notices motion out of the corner of his eye.

Standing slowly, he scans side to side in a wide arc, paying special attention to the dimmer zone between the two hemispheres of light.

He didn't hear any break-in.

Peering, the swordsman spots a swift-moving (and silent) hooded figure before it passes out of view behind stacked crates in the middle of the big room.

Katrin politely accepts the invitation for a job and works dutifully at her chores, but she is mostly interested in the gossip. She begins to put out careful feelers towards the less approved sections of society, but saves that for the afternoons...

She sounds quite enthusiastic about the isle of Cats, however.

"Lying liars who lie, and worship the goddess thereof? What better way to get back to our home city, full as it is of lying liars who lie! Count me in!"

She turns up at the boat shortly before the appointed time with her full equipment and a nice warm scarf.

kintire wrote:Katrin politely accepts the invitation for a job and works dutifully at her chores, but she is mostly interested in the gossip. She begins to put out careful feelers towards the less approved sections of society, but saves that for the afternoons...

She sounds quite enthusiastic about the isle of Cats, however.

"Lying liars who lie, and worship the goddess thereof? What better way to get back to our home city, full as it is of lying liars who lie! Count me in!"

She turns up at the boat shortly before the appointed time with her full equipment and a nice warm scarf.

The scarf may come in handy, as ever since the autumnal equinox nine days ago, cool night winds have blown in from the sea with increasing strength and frequency.

The big harvest festival occurs tomorrow.
Mother Falchett's been hard at work in the kitchen in the mornings preparing mince pies and other treats.
She mutters about taxes midday--those come due very soon.

Kat learns that the Grain Sellers and several other guilds and associations sponsor harvest celebrations.

Bennedict shivers and pulls his overcoat around himself as Kat approaches. Wearing his breastplate in the cold weather may end up being a regret, but one can never be too careful.

He nods to her. "Glad to see you. Any sign of the others?"

Kat shakes her head.

"No sign. I'm not sure the goddess of deception is very alluring to some of our colleagues. I'll keep an eye out, but I wouldn't hold the boat!"

Raen is also willing to go see the lying liars that lie.
"You know," he adds to what Kat said to Benn, "a bunch of mistrusted illusionists worship this Leira. And if tea-conjuring mages that consider it professional courtesy to trade spells with people they barely know don't trust them, I have no reason to trust them either."
He doesn't explain what he means about the tea-conjurers.

AT THE WATERFRONT


Konstan has just returned from down the pier, where he was doing something on his fishing boat.
"Excuse me, good masters, mistress, but did you say something about the Lady of Mists, hallowed Leira?"
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/21/83/e4 ... ea86de.jpg

Raen looked at the man. "Just idle talk my friend, we meant no disrespect to anyone"

alhoon wrote:Raen looked at the man. "Just idle talk my friend, we meant no disrespect to anyone"

Konstan nods.
''Yes. Of course. You're smart. Only a bloody fool would speak ill of the Lady of Mists before setting out on these waters at this time of night. ''
He looks out over the starlit river-mouth and sea, where mists have begun to form.
The fisherman shivers.
''The fog hides things...sometimes dangerous things. Some say it brings them from someplace else. ''

Bennedict smiles wryly. "You'd do well to listen to those rumors, mein herr." He looks at the others. "You never know what can come stumbling out of the fog."

Katrin raises an eyebrow

"That sounds almost... promising. Perhaps this worthy lady can help us after all!"

Konstan says,
"I'll make some little offerings before we leave the pier. If you want join me and the lads in doing that, you're welcome. "