The Hut of Chicken Bone: Night of April 10th

[VAN]

Pretending to listen the dialog between Tarlyn and Rolande, Dadrag gets his back to the tree and tries to listen what the others are syaing with Chicken Bone. Dadrag knows that he cannot understand the whole conversation, but maybe he can catch some clue words.

OOC> Bluff 13 to hide that he is not interesting in the discussion between Tarlyn and Rolande.

Listen 22.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Seeing as Gerard does not understand him, Tarlyn turns to Rolande and asks "What do you fear here? You are surrounded by competent people here. What is so bad about the gentleman up there?" he looks up at the abode then back to Rolande.

"Afraid?" Roland says. "I don't understand, m'sieur. As for the gentleman upstairs," he shrugs, then shudders slightly. Lowering his voice, almost speaking to himself, he continues, "I suppose one can become accustomed to any company. Perhaps among your people it is nothing unusual."

[steveflam]

Looking at Roland and smiling "What I meant,sir, is HIM" eyes looking up then back at Roland quizzically. "Hmmm maybe you prefer to talk about other things? As to my people we are no different than yours,sir. We only look different and live longer. My opinion is that since humans live such a short lifespan compared to my kind, you have different priorities than I may have." Tarlyn lets Roland consider his words

Possibly he is afraid or fearful of elves as well as he has probably not seen that many. I sense he knows more about this Chicken Bone but isn't letting on.

Going on "Amongst my people I suppose we are more tolerant and open to any race, sir. Everyone of course is different as 1 human may not necessarily give me a good idea of all the others, though there is still the benefit of the doubt" Tarlyn winks then gets out a water skin and passes it to Roland, nodding.

[Pamela]

Gertrude turned to the others one more time; Buchvold met her eyes but gave a gesture to suggest that she go ahead. She looked at the voodan. “S’il v's plait. Mais j'ai pas de doute du succes, étant donné vot' reputation connue. Si c'est impossible-" and she gave a respectful smile to illustrate her doubt- "Nous v’s remercerons et ferrons don por l'honneur du votr' temps.” Even without Jeanne's instructions, the scholar knew that you didn't visit heads of faith and not make some form of contribution to their temple or church. Not usually directly, but if all depends on the size of staff, doesn't it?

Will he wish to do this in private, or will we get a chance to see him at work? Either way suited her; if he left the room, she'd have more of a chance to study the many, beckoning altars about her.

Please. But I have no doubt of your success, given your well-known reputation. If it's not possible, we'll thank you and make a donation for the honour of your time.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Switching back to High Mordentish, Chicken Bone waves one hand to encompass all those now present. "An' all dese, dey all ask too?"

[OOC: insert answer here for any who want to interject at this point. Also, have another look at exactly what Roeccha asked you to find out; his wording is important. It's on the last page of the "Maison de Soulombre: Night of April 10th" thread.]

"Desirez que je cherce le maitre de ce anneau, puis." Looking around for a confirming nod, he goes on, "Ensuite, je commence."


*You want me to find the master of this ring, then. So! I begin.

[Moral Machivelli]

Buchvold has drifted from his prior objective of observing the Professor's skills at interviewing due to abject boredom. He has started thinking back to earlier in the day

So much has happened.

Buchvold nod's absently at the Voudan's first words. His second sentence however seemed to triger a sence of Deja Vu. He sturgles to place them as the Voudan finishes talking.

What was it...? Ah Rochea.

Rochea!

"Non. Arretez si vous plait Monsieur." Buchvold snaps.

As everyone turns to look at him, he begins to look a tad embarased.

"Pardone Moi, monsieur, mais ce n'est pas vrais." He begins, hesatently

"Ce nais le maitre de ce anneau nous vodrais. Ce la monsieur avec le anneaus apris... Ah! Mon Sourangeain est nais suffie. Tu comprandre?" He looks at Kingsly desperatly, asking for her help.


OOC Yay. Buchvold finally gets a bit of the limelight.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Seeing Buchvold stymied, Chicken Bone says, "I understan' you if you speak dis, m'sieur. What be de trouble you see?"

[Moral Machivelli]

Buchvold tries briefly to think of a way of phrasing the request so as not to imply that they are affiliated with a wider organization, and posses superiors, but quickly decides against it

Almost certian he'll have guessed by now, assuming he didn't know to start with. Best to make a present of the fact to him.

"To be blunt, monsieur, I'll clarify a little. We are all members of a single organization. We were all asked to come here, given this ring and a specific request."

"We were told to ask you to investigate the man who last wore this ring, specificly not it's master."

"Why that is, I don't know. Prehaps our masters already know or suspect the ring's master, but not the identity of the one who delivered it? Prehaps they have some reason to believe the Master is protected from sight, even that which you possess, but the former is not?"

Buchvold shrugs

"All I can do is speculate I'm afraid"

OOC Buchvold appears more oppen than he actually is here. Almost everything he revealed that was not obvious is simple deduction that someone as smart as Chicken Bone wouldn't flinch from. This way is more polite, and quicker.

[Rotipher of the FoS]

The bard's eyes flick momentarily to the Borcan, standing beside him, as he nods in agreement. Also in gratitude, though only Buchvold is likely to interpret the gesture as such: Crow'd also caught the lapse in Kingsley's directive to Chicken Bone, but circumstances barred him from revealing more of the Fratenity's doings than his companions already had. Now, he is free to speak.

"Indeed, speculation is all any of us can do at this stage. We cannot even be certain if the ring's previous wearer was a man: none of us actually witnessed it being delivered."

The spy's words are spoken lightly, with nothing ominous or wary in their tone; on the surface, he could merely be pointing out that the bearer could as easily have been female, or perhaps a near-human like Seaven. And yet, should Chicken Bone's divinations reveal that the deliverer was undead, as the big Voros surmised, the admission that none of them saw or knew of the courier should absolve them of any voluntary dealings with such beings. (Not to imply that the aged voodan, himself, isn't personally versed in necromancy -- locals' tales are quite clear on that account -- but Crow knows, all too well, that practitioners of such twisted magics are often deadly-jealous of their secrets and territories.)

The bard tilts his head, as if taken by a sudden thought, and then asks:

"This being a shared question, to which all of us seek an answer, might I ask if the price is to be shared as well...? If so -- meaning no disrespect to our host or the lady -- it might be prudent if we first hear what we're agreeing to pay, to ensure it's within all our means to meet that price." He shuffles his feet uncomfortably, as if 'Brother Crow' is recalling his own state of relative poverty, compared to other Fraternity members.

"Or, if only one is to pay, we should choose someone to do so on the basis of their suitability, rather than let Madam assume that burden by default, merely because she speaks Souragnien."

[alhoon]

Draxton, silent throughout the meeting so far nodded his agreement with what Buchvold said. "This is right, probably the ring was stolen from each owner."


OOC> Could you translate the french part please? Draxton understands but I don't.

[Pamela]

Gertrude had begun to settle back into a relaxed, alert position, content to be spectator for the moment. She turned at Buchvold’s interjection, puzzled, and began to rack her memory at the Borcan’s words. Dismay crossed her face as she realised her near-blunder, followed soon by grateful relief. Blessed sun, thank heavens he noted it; the last thing we need after all this trouble is a scathing tongue-lashing from Roeccha!

“Oui, j’comprends et merci,” she murmured, still chiding herself for missing the exact wording. As Buchvold explained it to Chicken Bone, she began to consider the cause of Roeccha’s unusual request. Why not the owner then…unless he already knew who it was? She recalled the stories that the rings were individually made for each bearer. She’d never really considered the matter. How very clever then… Then whose ring is it? One of the dead, or one of the traitors? Van Rijn crossed her mind at the thought, but she had no real belief that it could be his; the man had surely parted with it long before this. She nodded as Buchvold and Serd between them expressed her own suppositions.

She turned, smiling at Crow’s gesture- and wily, necessary reference to the matter of price. She turned to the elderly Souragnien. “Je m’excuse, m’sieur, por l’erreur. Vous ‘gardez pourquoi n’s savons pas si c’est ami. M’sieur ici,” she gestured towards Crow, “Est correct; le prix, c’est importante. On veux pas embarrasser not’ organisation cause de manquer de fonds.”

* Yes I understand- and thanks

Sorry, sir, about the error. You see why we don't know if it is a friend. Mister, here, is right. We don't want to embarrass our organisation due to lack of funds.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"This being a shared question, to which all of us seek an answer, might I ask if the price is to be shared as well...? If so -- meaning no disrespect to our host or the lady -- it might be prudent if we first hear what we're agreeing to pay, to ensure it's within all our means to meet that price." He shuffles his feet uncomfortably, as if 'Brother Crow' is recalling his own state of relative poverty, compared to other Fraternity members.

"Or, if only one is to pay, we should choose someone to do so on the basis of their suitability, rather than let Madam assume that burden by default, merely because she speaks Souragnien."

"Oh yes," Chicken Bone replies, smiling. "De price she can be paid by all, if you wan' it so, but you cannot pay wit' de gol' no de silver. You mus' perform for the loa who come one service. If you do no' get the t'ing for which you ask, you do nothing. But if you receive..." the voodan holds out his hand, fingers together, palm up, and closes it--a curiously final gesture. "Den, as you say, de bill come due."

[Pamela]

A shiver went down Gertrude’s spine at the suggested price. She was dismayed and stunned, yet beneath it all, she was also thrilled. The Souragniens said that a loa sat above every mortal, and she had privately wondered as to which one might be hers. She had never asked, let alone pursued the matter. That way lies madness...and academic suicide.

It would give me an idea… She quickly turned away from that thought, unwilling to voice it even in the privacy of her own mind. But to finally get a glimpse of that other world- to see for herself, to know for herself… Another thought crossed her mind, and she stood up straight as she considered it. Oh no, not that...not me, if it is...

She turned to the others, making sure that none of them were so foolish as to show any skepticism, recalling the old man's delight in Roland's earlier discomfort. “Our ability to pay as a group or an individual will be dependent on the loa involved and its requested price.”

Now that the price had been named, she realised that it wasn’t that unexpected. The others, however, would not necessarily understand the full implications. She brought her hands together, which were now ice-cold, and clasped them in the Zherisian casual, proper manner. “Je sais que l' loa pourrait demander un don ou sacrifice, ouai? Mais pourrait-il monter etranger?” That was the danger, whether the others fully understood it or believed it. She recalled Buchvold’s earlier lecture, and their own potential situation. Try to use positive thinking to get your way out of that one…

Possession...?

* I know that the loa might ask for a gift or sacrifice, right? But But might it ride a foreigner?

[Nathan of the FoS]

Now that the price had been named, she realised that it wasn’t that unexpected. The others, however, would not necessarily understand the full implications. She brought her hands together, which were now ice-cold, and clasped them in the Zherisian casual, proper manner. “Je sais que l' loa pourrait demander un don ou sacrifice, ouai? Mais pourrait-il monter etranger?” That was the danger, whether the others fully understood it or believed it. She recalled Buchvold’s earlier lecture, and their own potential situation. Try to use positive thinking to get your way out of that one…

Possession...?

"Ne sais, madame," Chicken Bone replies, waving one hand as if to indicate that the whole affair is rather uncertain. "Depend de la loa et l'etranger. Tous no avons le don. Normalmente le prix se signale quand la loa vient ici et lui indiquez votre demande. Necessite savoir qui est elles qui recoivent le signe; elles sont elles qui aurant de payer."

*I don't know, madame. It depends on the loa and the foreigner. Not everyone has the gift. Normally the price is given when the loa comes here and you make your request of it. I need to know who is to receive the sign; they're the ones who will have to pay.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Going on "Amongst my people I suppose we are more tolerant and open to any race, sir. Everyone of course is different as 1 human may not necessarily give me a good idea of all the others, though there is still the benefit of the doubt" Tarlyn winks then gets out a water skin and passes it to Roland, nodding.

Roland accepts the skin and drinks, passing it back to Tarlyn. "Of course, m'sieur. We all would hope for the benefit of the doubt, I suppose."