Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
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Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
The guestrooms of the East Wing, early morning
Everline
After lying stunned in the tangled sheets for who-knows-how-long, Everline can move, speak, scream, and run once more. What she cannot do is forget. None of it will go away; the ogre's cruel touch, the things he did to her...
Benn
Benn wakens to find Charlotte leaning over the bed with a platter of scrambled eggs and hot sausage links.
"He keeps hens here, Benn. Fresh eggs!"
Dorgio
Dorgio has finished his morning prayers (perhaps on the patio?) and is now ready to begin his day.
Eustace
The monk, unused to sea travel, slept soundly for the first time since leaving the mainland.
Thom
Last night, Thom dreamt of a burglar in the house. The details quickly fade from his mind after he awakes.
Petrie
The salt air brought pleasant dreams. Now, another smell hangs in the air- breakfast! Someone is cooking sausage upwind of the Forfarian's nose.
Primeiro
The first thing Primeiro sees in the morning is Abigail running out the door, her freckled face blushing deep red.
"I've got to get to work!"
Juergin
Aside from a little toothache, the boy feels fine. Just fine.
Everline
After lying stunned in the tangled sheets for who-knows-how-long, Everline can move, speak, scream, and run once more. What she cannot do is forget. None of it will go away; the ogre's cruel touch, the things he did to her...
Benn
Benn wakens to find Charlotte leaning over the bed with a platter of scrambled eggs and hot sausage links.
"He keeps hens here, Benn. Fresh eggs!"
Dorgio
Dorgio has finished his morning prayers (perhaps on the patio?) and is now ready to begin his day.
Eustace
The monk, unused to sea travel, slept soundly for the first time since leaving the mainland.
Thom
Last night, Thom dreamt of a burglar in the house. The details quickly fade from his mind after he awakes.
Petrie
The salt air brought pleasant dreams. Now, another smell hangs in the air- breakfast! Someone is cooking sausage upwind of the Forfarian's nose.
Primeiro
The first thing Primeiro sees in the morning is Abigail running out the door, her freckled face blushing deep red.
"I've got to get to work!"
Juergin
Aside from a little toothache, the boy feels fine. Just fine.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
Juergin rouses from his sleep and stretches. He thinks about his encounter with Eliana. He had a slight toothache but that would pass. It isn't every day you get to eat some Hazlani delicacies. The lad remembers how she looked last night in her room and shivers. His mind wanders back to the previous day when Miss Everline seemed to have something against Miss Eliana, a verbal sparring at any rate. HE feels that given what he saw last night, perhaps it be best if he go see her and tell her what he did see. The men in the party would most likely push his view aside, given that she is a beautiful woman and he just a young man.
He cleans himself best he can with the water in a bowl and dresses. Arming himself, he whispers to himself and exits his room, closing the door behind him. He walks at a fast pace for Everline's room. He arrives there within a few minutes and knocks at her door, calling her name and announcing his presence. "Miss Everline, gut morning. It is me, Juergin. I vish to speak viss you on an urgent matter."
He cleans himself best he can with the water in a bowl and dresses. Arming himself, he whispers to himself and exits his room, closing the door behind him. He walks at a fast pace for Everline's room. He arrives there within a few minutes and knocks at her door, calling her name and announcing his presence. "Miss Everline, gut morning. It is me, Juergin. I vish to speak viss you on an urgent matter."
Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
Eustace gets up refreshed and happy. He looks out the window and the sun invigorates him.
"Ah, a great day for rest and relaxation." he says to himself contentedly.
Then he remembers this should not be a such a day for them. There is the bad thing at the old abbey to take care of. He makes a plan of the best spells he should have by then, and makes a notice of retiring at noon to pray for them. Meanwhile, with the lab already set for any emergency, he walks outside and wanders the halls slowly dictated by his whims. The thought on his mind is breakfast, and his steps eventually go after the first cooking smell he feels.
(OOC: Ewan, it's up to you if this leads him to the refectory or somewhere else )
"Ah, a great day for rest and relaxation." he says to himself contentedly.
Then he remembers this should not be a such a day for them. There is the bad thing at the old abbey to take care of. He makes a plan of the best spells he should have by then, and makes a notice of retiring at noon to pray for them. Meanwhile, with the lab already set for any emergency, he walks outside and wanders the halls slowly dictated by his whims. The thought on his mind is breakfast, and his steps eventually go after the first cooking smell he feels.
(OOC: Ewan, it's up to you if this leads him to the refectory or somewhere else )
Zumba d'Oxossi (A Stitch in Souragne)
Brother Eustace (The Devil's Dreams)
Robert de Moureaux (A New Barovia)
Brother Eustace (The Devil's Dreams)
Robert de Moureaux (A New Barovia)
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Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
Everline's door opens in a rush, and a somewhat disturbing sight greets Juergin's eyes, accompanied by a hint of the smell of vomit. It may take him a moment to recognize the apparition in front of him as the well-tailored young woman from last night.
The face is the same, but it is a pale, haggard face now, the hair that was coiffed so carefully last night now a wild, tangled halo. Something primal lurks in the young woman's blue eyes. Something on the thin edge between fight or flight, and it is anyone's guess which way she'll go.
Instead of the pretty dress, Everline now wears hose and shirt of rough, strong-looking fabric, its colour a dull mixture of grey and green, leather boots and gloves. Instead of a wine glass or a crab cake, she is holding a wicked-looking morningstar.
For a silent moment, Everline just stares into Juergin's eyes. Then, slowly, she lowers the morningstar and hooks it to her belt. Immediately, the strength seems to go out of her limbs and she clutches at the doorpost for support. The young woman raises a trembling hand to wipe away drool trickling from the corners of her mouth.
"'Tis yerself," Everline says, her voice hoarse, almost as if she had been shouting - or screaming. "Urgent, says ya? Well, I'd be fair 'appy ta help ya, but..." The young woman's legs buckle and she clutches more fiercely at the doorpost, her face growing even more pale. "I'll hear ye, boy," Everline rasps, "if ye would. But... I gots me some... gots me some trou... troub... Hurk!"
Everline falls to her knees and vomits on the hallway rug. "Dorgio," she mutters as soon as the paroxysm has passed. "Get me ta... Dorgio. I'll fair be 'appy ta help ye, but... I need some help meself... firs'...."
The face is the same, but it is a pale, haggard face now, the hair that was coiffed so carefully last night now a wild, tangled halo. Something primal lurks in the young woman's blue eyes. Something on the thin edge between fight or flight, and it is anyone's guess which way she'll go.
Instead of the pretty dress, Everline now wears hose and shirt of rough, strong-looking fabric, its colour a dull mixture of grey and green, leather boots and gloves. Instead of a wine glass or a crab cake, she is holding a wicked-looking morningstar.
For a silent moment, Everline just stares into Juergin's eyes. Then, slowly, she lowers the morningstar and hooks it to her belt. Immediately, the strength seems to go out of her limbs and she clutches at the doorpost for support. The young woman raises a trembling hand to wipe away drool trickling from the corners of her mouth.
"'Tis yerself," Everline says, her voice hoarse, almost as if she had been shouting - or screaming. "Urgent, says ya? Well, I'd be fair 'appy ta help ya, but..." The young woman's legs buckle and she clutches more fiercely at the doorpost, her face growing even more pale. "I'll hear ye, boy," Everline rasps, "if ye would. But... I gots me some... gots me some trou... troub... Hurk!"
Everline falls to her knees and vomits on the hallway rug. "Dorgio," she mutters as soon as the paroxysm has passed. "Get me ta... Dorgio. I'll fair be 'appy ta help ye, but... I need some help meself... firs'...."
Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
Juergin isn't too sure what to make of Everline. This is not the same lady he met yesterday. From what he has learned however, he is not surprised. He nearly jumps back at the sight of the morningstar but stops himself.
"Okay. We need you to get dressed. What if I send for Dorgio and wait here with you? Are you okay to move? You don't look good Miss Everline, not at all. What happened?"
"Okay. We need you to get dressed. What if I send for Dorgio and wait here with you? Are you okay to move? You don't look good Miss Everline, not at all. What happened?"
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Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
Primeiro takes his time getting out of bed. The evening did not disappoint. Most definitely not. He touches the top of his left shoulder gingerly. The red lines left by Abigail's nails stand out starkly against the deepening purple of yesterday's bruises. The stinging sensation of the cuts pleases him greatly, he realizes. He mentally shrugs and decides to savor it, much as he savored the taste of the crabcakes and the lusciousness of Abigail's lips.
He gets up, stretches, and begins a series of exercises recommended by his fencing tutor. Poor fellow.
After dressing casually for breakfast, he leaves his room. His senses remain quite sharp, and he can smell freshly baked pastries, decadently stimulating coffee, and ... vomit? Walking down the corridor, he sees a door left ajar and hears Juergin's voice and ... Everline's? He catches the unpleasant, unmistakeable sound of retching, then Juergin's last few words:
Fortunately, he and Dorgio left the dining room at the same time, so he's fairly sure which room is his. He goes to Dorgio's room, knocks on the door, and -- after confirming that no one else is presently in the hallway who can hear him -- says softly, "Dorgio, it's Primeiro. Madamoiselle Vaughn requires your attention... urgently."
He gets up, stretches, and begins a series of exercises recommended by his fencing tutor. Poor fellow.
After dressing casually for breakfast, he leaves his room. His senses remain quite sharp, and he can smell freshly baked pastries, decadently stimulating coffee, and ... vomit? Walking down the corridor, he sees a door left ajar and hears Juergin's voice and ... Everline's? He catches the unpleasant, unmistakeable sound of retching, then Juergin's last few words:
Primeiro peers in, glimpses the situation, and says gently, "Stay here, Juergin. I'll fetch Dorgio." He looks sympathetically at Everline. "Have no concern, madamoiselle. I shall be discreet.""What if I send for Dorgio and wait here with you? Are you okay to move? You don't look good Miss Everline, not at all. What happened?"
Fortunately, he and Dorgio left the dining room at the same time, so he's fairly sure which room is his. He goes to Dorgio's room, knocks on the door, and -- after confirming that no one else is presently in the hallway who can hear him -- says softly, "Dorgio, it's Primeiro. Madamoiselle Vaughn requires your attention... urgently."
"There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."
--W. Somerset Maugham
--W. Somerset Maugham
Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
In the meantime Juergin escorts Everline to a chair and helps her sit. Then he looks for a serviette and water so he can clean up her face a bit.
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Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
"Somethin's rotten 'ere," Everline mutters, and she leans back in the chair, her eyes closed in evident pain. "Very bad at this place. Boy. Juergin. I dinna ask ye this outta spite, but woul' ye please...?" She makes a listless gesture towards a porcelain bowl, which seems to be the source of the scent of vomit. "Jus' please tip it outta window... Smell's makin' me wanna puke again, an' I ain't got anythin' left ta throw up. An' find me Eustace an' all. I need ta... need ta warn 'em... Ahh, Hell's bells, my head!" Groaning with misery, Everline clamps her hands around her forehead. Salive continues to trickle from her mouth.
Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
Juergin moves over to the basin and takes it in both hands, careful not to spill any on him. He has seen how seasick people get and this almost reminds him of that but worst. He opens the window and tosses out the bile, holding his breath and once done, places the basin back.
Juergin dips a cloth in the water basin and wets it good. Then he moves to Everline and with one hand lifts her chin. The other hand holds the wet cloth in front of her face. "I am going to wipe your face clean, Miss Everline."
Juergin dips a cloth in the water basin and wets it good. Then he moves to Everline and with one hand lifts her chin. The other hand holds the wet cloth in front of her face. "I am going to wipe your face clean, Miss Everline."
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Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe," Everline mutters, her eyes closed and her voice slurred.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came..."
Everline coughs, then says in a clearer voice: "Much obliged fer tha help."
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe," Everline mutters, her eyes closed and her voice slurred.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came..."
Everline coughs, then says in a clearer voice: "Much obliged fer tha help."
Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
Juergin smiles, relieved. He goes to dip the cloth and offers to wipe her face again if she allows him. "What was dat poem you spoken?"
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Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
On the Patio
His morning prayers at an end, Dorgio stands on the patio and almost instinctively fishes a cigarillo his pouch and begins puffing away, creating a small, pungent cloud through which the morning sunlight scatters and distorts. He reminds himself to bring extra with them on their expedition today if he plans to cut back on drinking.
For a moment he considers seeking out Eliana, explaining the flowers and his reaction last night, which seems even more embarrassing upon reflection. He doubts whether it will do any good, but perhaps it would give him some small peace of mind to express his frustration. But if the captain is still on the island, Dorgio knows he'll have to find some way to get her attention, which may be no mean feat at this point.
His musings are interrupted when he sees something move out of the corner of his eye, and looks back to see Primeiro making his way to the priest's room, looking perhaps just a bit too disturbed for so early in the morning. He stubs out what's left of his cigarillo and goes back inside, only to find Primeiro knocking on his door.
"What's that?" He asks, walking up to Primeiro, and the priest is taken aback by the sense of urgency in Primeiro's words. "Wait here." Dorgio ducks into his room long enough to grab his healing kit (and a dagger, in case the problem is of a different nature than he suspects). "Right, let's be going. Where is she, and what is wrong?"
His morning prayers at an end, Dorgio stands on the patio and almost instinctively fishes a cigarillo his pouch and begins puffing away, creating a small, pungent cloud through which the morning sunlight scatters and distorts. He reminds himself to bring extra with them on their expedition today if he plans to cut back on drinking.
For a moment he considers seeking out Eliana, explaining the flowers and his reaction last night, which seems even more embarrassing upon reflection. He doubts whether it will do any good, but perhaps it would give him some small peace of mind to express his frustration. But if the captain is still on the island, Dorgio knows he'll have to find some way to get her attention, which may be no mean feat at this point.
His musings are interrupted when he sees something move out of the corner of his eye, and looks back to see Primeiro making his way to the priest's room, looking perhaps just a bit too disturbed for so early in the morning. He stubs out what's left of his cigarillo and goes back inside, only to find Primeiro knocking on his door.
"What's that?" He asks, walking up to Primeiro, and the priest is taken aback by the sense of urgency in Primeiro's words. "Wait here." Dorgio ducks into his room long enough to grab his healing kit (and a dagger, in case the problem is of a different nature than he suspects). "Right, let's be going. Where is she, and what is wrong?"
"You said I killed you--haunt me, then!...Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!” -Wuthering Heights
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Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
"Not quite sure," says Primeiro, already quickly leading the way back toward Everline's room. "I came upon her open door just a few moments ago. She's ill. Throwing up violently, from the looks of things. The boy, Juergin, is tending to her for the moment. She looks, well, terrible." His face bears a troubled expresssion. The pale, shaken woman in the room bore little resemblance to the carefully constructed beauty he saw yesterday.
He goes back to the partially open door, raps on it quickly but gently twice, and then he walks in with Dorgio. "Madamoiselle Vaughn?"
He goes back to the partially open door, raps on it quickly but gently twice, and then he walks in with Dorgio. "Madamoiselle Vaughn?"
"There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."
--W. Somerset Maugham
--W. Somerset Maugham
Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
JUergin is relieved when he hears Primeiro's voice and has an afterthought. "She is here with me. Maybe she might need a maid to help her dress, Primeiro. I think she needs a hot bath too. And she said something like a poem. Maybe you know someone who has paper and a stylus to note it? It could be important. And since you are here I saw something very odd last night I wanted to tell Miss Everline but you have to keep an open mind and not judge what I say."
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Re: Ghosts of Gauntcliff, Chapter 3
"Let them in, let them in," Everline says, her voice a little stronger. "Never mind the poem, it's just... something I learned from a fellow traveller. 'Jabberwocky'... We have more important matters to discuss... Things going wrong in the night... a girl dead in her sleep... Oh, yes. I think I may have a clue. I just don't want to die for clues."