Resonance of twilight Chapter One: Meetings

[HuManBing]

Florian snapped to.

"So, then, I suppose we need a few pointers, despite our clear enthusiasm," he said brightly.

"Who? Well, that is obvious - us lot, if no others," he said, counting off his fingers. "What? Likewise, obvious - the trove of books and esoteria to be found in Uncle Crawford's home. Plus whatever incidentals we may uncover. When? Seems to be our choosing, though I won't have it before I finish this exotic tea you have for us."

He looked at Kevic.

"So that leaves the where and the why. And just like wassailing a matron, I think the why becomes self-evident after a while. So how do we get there?"

[Desertrising]

Kevic smiles at Florian and then at the Caliban.

"Our fine coachman here would likely be willing to transport us there." he says sipping at his tea.

[WolfKook]

Kevic smiles at Florian and then at the Caliban.

"Our fine coachman here would likely be willing to transport us there." he says sipping at his tea.

Melissa joined the four men, walking timidly, a little ashamed of herself. However, there were still things going on in her head, and she had to ask those questions, especially now that her heart was wary from the reading:

"Excuse me if I'm still a little cauteous about this trip, but you have to admit that it's at least a little off place that you're hiring three obviously fine and capable men for a simple trip to the moors. I'm curious as to what do you expect to find there, beside simple road thieves... Does it have anything to do with that strange occurence your message told about?"

[Strahdsbuddy]

Mortimer looked at the carriage, his joints developing phantom aches as he was reminded of his long journey from Port-a-Lucine. Certainly, though, this was much better than hiking into the middle of Mordent's imposing moors.

His ears pricked up at Miss Crawford's suggestion that there was more danger ahead than they seem to have anticipated. Indeed, Mordent had a tendancy to lull one to sleep--and to let one's guard down. It was important to remember that there were dangers as prevelant as any Barovia could offer, particularly if you were foolish enough to start kicking over stones.

[BigBadQDaddy]

Sheridon brushes by the the others on the way out, steadily limping. He briskly climbs up into the drivers seat, his tall mud caked riding boots causing a steady Thud-Thud. Thud-Thud as he ascends. Upon reaching the drivers seat, he kicks aside what looks to be a weathered and very old wood cutting axe, obviously worn from use. Pausing a moment, he at last settles himself in the driver seat. Looking over his shoulder down at the old man, the two gentlemen, and the lady. He slurs in his gravelly tone, "A'right, all aboard."[/i]

[Desertrising]

As Kevic enters the carriage he shrugs and smiles slightly "Of course we can expect to find any number of unusual things. We are, after all, exploring a long abandoned manor house."

He then settles himself into one of the coaches seats and motions the others to do the same. "I am not sure how far this coach will be able to take us toward our destination but I imagine Sheridon will do just fine"

He then leans out the window and taps lightly on the side of the coach "We are ready whenever you are my fine coachman." he says...

[BigBadQDaddy]

With that, Sheridon urges his coach onward, through the streets and towards the manor.
The ride is slow, and rocky as the coach has but one large work horse to pull it along, and the unsteady scraping jingle of a few coppers in an old bucket accompany the clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop of the horses shoed hooves. Whenever the coach banks a turn, a low groaning creak of stressed wood can be heard, as if the coach itself were groaning with strain. The cab itself is in needed repair. Some of the seat cushions bare tears along the surface, it's curtains shoddy with age and layered with a fine dust. Either the coachman simply doesn't care to upkeep his equipment, or he is simply unable to meet the ends to pay for the costs.
The coachman says not a word during the trip, unless addressed. Otherwise he simply falls into his job getting people where they need to go.

[Strahdsbuddy]

With his handkerchief to his face, Mortimer begins patting the curtains down for dust. His allergy is annoying and he is certain that his actions are annoying his fellow travellers, but it is necissary if he not to spend the entire trip sneezing uncontrolably. Had he known the coach would be in this state he'd have taken his featherduster from his bag before they embarked.

He was quite certain he'd have been thought a snob for his reaction to their conveyance, but there was little point in saving face now. In truth he didn't care how he travelled, and he much prefered this carriage to going on foot, or--he shuddered--on horseback!

The Crawford's ancestral lands straddled the Arden, having been cousins of the Blackburn-Bruces. They had been cursed with the same linear progeny as most of the other noble houses of Mordent, seldom having more than two children. Theirs was a quiet lot in the realm's history, no flamboyant histories like the other nobles. But they must have had a story, and Mortimer badly wanted to know what it was.

He looked away from his housekeeping to eye the diary, which Melissa still grasped tightly in her hands.

[WolfKook]

Melissa noticed she was being watched, and paid Mortimer a casual look with just a little contempt. Moving the curtains so the dust would fill the entire coach was annoying enough, especially when he was the only one with the kerchief on his nose, but now he was watching her with that creepy look...

She looked away, thinking on the strange chain of events that had led her to get on board on this old dusty coach with such a weird collection of gentlemen. She had recovered her self-control by now, but if she had had it before she would have insisted on starting the journey later, after having changed her dress for something more appropriate for such a quest, and after having asked a few questions about Kevic and this Mortimer.

But now here she was, looking through the window as the last, scattered houses of Mordentshire disappeared behind them, and the trees became more and more frequent. She sighed, anticipating something but not knowing what exactly to expect. At least, the presence of Florian gave her a strange sense of security...

[Desertrising]

After several hours of riding in the swaying and creaking carriage Kevic looks out the window and pounds on the side of the carriage with his staff "All right Sheridon Here we be." he says.

Sheridon slowly brings the carriage to a halt and the passengers exit each one stretching a bit to work out various muscle kinks. As they look around they can see that they are in a very marshy area with thick mist emanating from the ground up to about ankle height.

Off in the distance the shape of a manor house can be seen...

(OOC sorry not the best intro, but I figured it was better than nothing...)

[WolfKook]

Melissa held her skirt high to prevent it from getting wet, and cursed herself for her lack of precaution. If she had remembered to tell Kevic to stop by her house earlier, she would be now dressed in a more appropriate, and attractive, outfit, and would not be trapped in a completely inadequate dress, without any chance of changing it in the near future. She started walking with difficulty, whimpering at every step, and stopped to take a look at the distant sillouhette of the manor, being unable to point out any of its details (:P). Then, she turned to Kevic, her voice a little upset with discomfort.

"So, what's next?"

[Strahdsbuddy]

"A fine trip, my good Sheridon! Thank you for lending us your talents. ANd this fine beast that drew us here, does he have a name?" MOrtimer took a few steps toward the horse and looked at the large man getting down from the carriage. He was going over the contents of his bag in his head, sure he would be ill-equipt. The dagger was beneath his vest, however, and he was rather certain he would need it.

He also noticed that Florian had been strangely silent for their trip, probably sleeping, he mused. Oh to be so calm...

[BigBadQDaddy]

"A fine trip, my good Sheridon! Thank you for lending us your talents. ANd this fine beast that drew us here, does he have a name?"

Sheridon stands up carefully and climbs down from the drivers seat of the old coach in a rickety hasty manner, it is surprising he does not stumble on his way down.
He simply looks at the man as he attempts to make conversation, knowing no one in there right mind would talk to him if given a real choice.
"Ain't got no name shir." He slurs in his gravelly voice from behind the upturned collar of his highwayman coat.
Sheridon then turns to Kevic. Reaching up to the drivers seat and pulling out the axe's handle into plain veiw with the dragging sound of metal on wood. "Do you think we shall be needin' the tool shir?"

[WolfKook]

Melissa stands back, opening her eyes widely. What are these men planning to do?

[Desertrising]

Kevic nods towards the Caliban "Yes, bringing an axe in case we need to force a door open would be a good idea Sheridon." he says.

He then motions toward the estate "Shall we go?" he asks. Then without waiting for an answer he begins to limp in the direction of the manor house...