The Unsettled House

[The Giamarga]

"Cousin Traven! Yes well. It's been a very long time. , " Francois grimaces slightly at the how you've grown comment, "You too have changed much since we saw each other last. How are you? And how are the wife and kid?"

[Baron Zamedi]

Paul stands inmediatly upon the Dulapont brothers entrance and bows politely.

"A pleasure to meet you sir, Paul Bentley at your service."

[Igor the Henchman]

Jumping to her feet, Brida stumps her way towards Traven and salutes formally.

"Pleased ta meet ya', sir. Gefreite Brida Schreivogel. I 'seen plenty battles and plenty deaths. My blade's atcha service".

She half-unsheathes her humongous sword, as if to specify which blade she means.

[InVinoVeritas]

The Swami performs his elaborate bow.

"A thousand wishes of health upon you, Lord Traven. I am the Great Swami Ranjan, Seer of the Spirit World."

He then turns to Marie.

"Gracious Madame, you indeed have been blessed with such magnificent children! Are there any more that we might have the fortune of meeting?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Cousin Traven! Yes well. It's been a very long time. You too have changed much since we saw each other last. How are you? And how are the wife and kid?"

Traven's face ... twitches. "Yes, I've changed much," he laughs. It is not a nice sound. "Changed, changed, changed ... My goodness!"

Traven initially startles when Brida approaches him, but then he seems to animate properly. From one moment to the other, the elderlery-looking man becomes lively, his eyes flashing with a keen intellect as he quickly frames Brida's face with his hands, then walks around her several times, surverying her from every (polite) angle.

"Remarkable!" he exclaims. "Caliban, homo deformis magicus, common to many civilized areas ... Yes, I've read about Calibans, but had so few opportunities to actually study one. I wonder, would you mind donating some time to my research, madam? No invasive tests, of course, but anatomy is something of a passion of mine ..."

Jeremy snorts audibly at this, and Traven blinks and seems to come back down from whatever academic cloud he had been hovering on. "Ah yes, guests," he says, as he straightens his jacket. "Cousin François, welcome. It has been rather a long time, hasn't it just?"

Traven strides over to shake Paul's hand, and regards him critically with eyes that seem perhaps a touch too keen now. "You, sir, are a Zherisian, am I correct?" he says. "At least I seem to recognize your accent as such. There was a Zherisian professor at the University during my educational period there. How fares Paridon these days?"

Ranjan gets perhaps the most penetrating look of all, as well as a knife-edged smile. "A swami, you say. Intriguing. In that case, you must all be here for the haunting. Yes, of course you must be." The sliver of a smile widens. "Welcome, all, in that case."

Madame Dulapont smiles and beckons to Traven, who goes to one knee at her side, holding her hand. "These are my sons," madame Dulapont replies to Ranjan. "My only sons. You have now met my whole family, young man,"she finishes, hands clutching her son's.

"Well, now everybody knows everybody," Jeremy growls. "One big happy family." He pointedly does not look at his mother and brother, but instead stomps over to the big table and sits himself down at the chair to the right from the head, looking away from the rest of you as well. "We should ring for dinner," he states. "I'm hungry. And the sooner the noises start, the sooner these ... people can get to work."

"Jeremy," madame Dulapont sighs. "These are our guests. I would like you to help them choose proper rooms from among the old guest chambers."

Jeremy's face flushes with sudden fury, but he gets up nonetheless. "Follow," he grates at you, and starts to stomp to the door. It almost looks as if he's marching, to see the stiffness of his back and motions.

"Please take the time to settle into your rooms and freshen up," madame Dulapont says with a genteel gesture for all of you. "I will send Chalmers and Bentley up to collect you all once preparations for dinner have been completed."

[Igor the Henchman]

Traven initially startles when Brida approaches him, but then he seems to animate properly. From one moment to the other, the elderlery-looking man becomes lively, his eyes flashing with a keen intellect as he quickly frames Brida's face with his hands, then walks around her several times, surverying her from every (polite) angle.

"Remarkable!" he exclaims. "Caliban, homo deformis magicus, common to many civilized areas ... Yes, I've read about Calibans, but had so few opportunities to actually study one. I wonder, would you mind donating some time to my research, madam? No invasive tests, of course, but anatomy is something of a passion of mine ..."

"Ah... I'm... ah..." Brida finds herself momentarily at a loss at Traven's sudden probing of her figure. Suddenly very uncomfortable around the man, she backs away into a corner of the room. She feels the urge to be as far as possible from the man's inquisitive eyes and animated fingers.

The fingers. Her mind begins recollecting. They studied me before allowing me in the ranks. A frail, dry man from the Ministry of Science. Cold metal against skin. The needle... She forces the images to blank out.

"Nice... to meet ya" is all she can blurb back. When Jeremy leads them out of the room, she is the first to follow.

[The Giamarga]

"Ah yes, guests," he says, as he straightens his jacket.

"Jeremy," madame Dulapont sighs. "These are our guests. I would like you to help them choose proper rooms from among the old guest chambers."

Jeremy's face flushes with sudden fury, but he gets up nonetheless. "Follow," he grates at you, and starts to stomp to the door. It almost looks as if he's marching, to see the stiffness of his back and motions.

"Please take the time to settle into your rooms and freshen up," madame Dulapont says with a genteel gesture for all of you. "I will send Chalmers and Bentley up to collect you all once preparations for dinner have been completed."

"Thank you aunt Marite. We'll see you for dinner then."

François grabs his saddlebags and moves to follow Jeremy up the stairs. In an afterthought he holds open the door and gestures to Brida, smiling, "After you, Fräulein!" Better to put this one between myself and the hotblooded cousin the thinks.

[Baron Zamedi]

Traven strides over to shake Paul's hand, and regards him critically with eyes that seem perhaps a touch too keen now. "You, sir, are a Zherisian, am I correct?" he says. "At least I seem to recognize your accent as such. There was a Zherisian professor at the University during my educational period there. How fares Paridon these days?"

Paul gives Traven a firm shake and says "You are right sir I’ am Zherisian and I can tell you are a very well educated man, not everyone knows about my great country. Tell me please sir Traven, have you ever been to Zherisia?" he asks with a twinkle in his dark blue eyes.

"Pray tell, this professor, is he someone I know of? What is his name?"

Paul winces a little at the last question "Well the fair city has seen better days definitely, but it's people are strong and good, their spirits unwavering and they all strive for being even better. Really their stalwartness never ceases to amaze me ... It will all get better for sure."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Oh, his name was Ramsey," Traven cheerfully replies to Paul's question. "Professor Adrian Ramsey, the head of the philosophy department. Charming fellow, perhaps we could -"

"Later!" Jeremy calls -- barks? -- over his shoulder. "You, the Paridoner, come!"

"Later, then," Traven agrees with good grace.

_____________________________________________________________


The first floor of Dulapont Manor is quiet and dark. What light there is, Jeremy leads as he guides you up the stairs and down the second floor's corridor in grim silence; small candles in wall sconces, which he lights with a burning twig he brought along from downstairs.

There is dust on the carpet, you can see that much already. Other than that, this floor seems moderately clean, though ... dreary. The carpet is a dark mixture of blues and purples. The wallpaper is dark with mold where it is not simply dark of colour. The doors leading off this corridor are also dark; made of dark wood.

"Pick whatever rooms you like," Jeremy states bluntly as he uddenly stops and starts to shoulder his way back through your number to head back to the stairs. "I'll have Chalmers or the new man come up and call you when dinner's ready. Don't bother changing the linen, I'm sure we'll have to burn it once we're shift of your frauds."

[Baron Zamedi]

"Please, go ahead and pick whichever room you like."- Paul tells the group -"I'd like to see if I can find anything strange around here before I settle down, and I will be comfortable anywhere."

"Maybe someone wants to join me?"

Suiting deed to word the monk starts down the hall eyes wide open for anything strange that might be found around.


Taking 20 on a spot check for a total of 26, anyone has a good search modifier who wants to help Sherlock... Err I mean Paul look for clues?

[InVinoVeritas]

Ranjan joins Paul.

"Ah yes, the strange... all can be explained with the proper training."

With a furtive glance back toward the hallway to make sure the family isn't paying too much attention, Ranjan starts carefully touching the undersides of the furniture, watches where he steps as if looking for a loose floorboard, checks behind a picture... if you didn't know better, he kind of looks like he's casing the room.

I'll Take 20 on a Search for a total of 28.

[The Giamarga]

"It looks like you gentlemen have things well in hand, " François says as he looks into a room or two and watches the other two going over the rooms inch by inch.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

(OOC: My apologies for the delay ...)

The rooms yield little to even a prolonged investigation. Little but the obvious: these were once lusciously well-appointed chambers.

Traces of grandeur are still visible; the furniture is clearly ancient, yet it still stands strong and proud, without obvious signs of woodworm or other decay. The linens provided for guests must once have been of the finest material, but careful scrutiny reveals tiny stains which simply won't come out any more. The carpets and paintings on the walls show great artistry, but also lamentably high age; dirt has been tread into the weave so often that it has become scarred in cleaning, and the colour of the paints has faded - or else darkened disturbingly, turning Arcadian scenes into sombre scenes more befitting mourning parlors than guest rooms.

The rooms are each other's equal in decay and general sombreness. Old finery lost not to lack of upkeep, but simply to age and lack of regular replacement and high-grade maintenance. So much could be better, but it is clearly not to be.

As you wander the rooms, the most interesting thing you find are tiny tracks in the dirt-stained carpet: dog tracks and rat tracks. Very small dog tracks. Reasonably large rat tracks. The general scent in the area indicates it was cleaned not that long ago, and still, there are these tracks of animals passing. The general air of misery is matched, perhaps, by the distant sound of a piano playing a sad song, somewhere downstairs.

(OOC: You can talk to each other, you can go investigate further - there's the floor you are on, there's downstairs, the second floor above you (family's quarters), and the atitc above that.)

[The Giamarga]

"So messieurs dames, what do you make of this case so far? " François asks no one inparticular as he looks at the paintings and carpets wondering what they might once have been worth. Oh how the mighty have fallen... he thinks. But he shrugs it off with the non-chalance of a born Richemulois, being accustomed to the slow decay and empty buildings of this domain. "And how do you plan to proceed?"
[OOC: Appraise 18]



<and later after the small talk>

"I think i shall retire to my room now to make ready for dinner" François picks the next best room that no one has layed a claim on, preferrably one nearer to the stairs going upstairs. He puts his saddlebags in the corner, fishes out his soap and razor and proceeds to wash and shave merrily with his small steel mirror.
[OOC or if there is one before a bigger one in his room]

He contemplates wearing his fashionable wig for dinner but finally decides against it. Taking off his travelling clothes and donning his spare courtiers outift he is almost ready. He puts on his weapon belt complete with rapier and dagger and on a whim stuffs the small steel mirror in a pocket in his pants. Then leaving the room he he pauses, when closing the door from the outside he carefully balances his deck of playing cards on the inside against the door, memorizing the upper three cards, so that he might know if someone went into his room. 9,3,8, hearts, hearts, diamonds
[OOC: untrained craft(trapmaking): 17]

He tries to inconspicously sneak up the stairs to the family's quarter, pausing halfway up to check if anyone is up there and then slowly continuing.
[OOC Hide 15, Move Silently 13, Listen 14, Spot 7]