The Eye of Anubis: Book Eight
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yalenusveler
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"Lower tier you say? And I almost always prepare the proper countermeasures, so that's covered." Andre told Lia, looking between her, Remy,Kuzan, and the two other professors present on this delightful little wakeup call. Worst case scenario, he's dead in bed. Andre thought to himself, before calling out "Professor Pellitier, it's Andre, are you alright? If you don't answer, we're coming in.."
Last edited by yalenusveler on Sun Nov 16, 2008 8:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Sometimes, Mr.Liquor cabinet is my only friend"
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NeoTiamat
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Re: The Eye of Anubis: Book Eight
Outside Professor Pelletier's Room, The Monastery of Stilled Nightmares, Sebua
July 17th, 761, 10:39 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Dead silence greeted Andre's call. A rather ill-omened choice of words, now that one thinks of it.
July 17th, 761, 10:39 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Dead silence greeted Andre's call. A rather ill-omened choice of words, now that one thinks of it.
Ravenloft GM: Eye of Anubis, Shattered City, and Prof. Lupescu's Traveling Ghost Show
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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yalenusveler
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Andre threw almost everything he had trying to bring down the magical warding surrounding Professor Pelletier's chambers. Spells specifically designed to break warding, and then just plain Dispel Magics. But from the look on Andre's face, none seemed to get the abjuration upon the doctor's chambers to even so much as flicker in intensity. The look on Andre's face was a blend of concern for the Professor, and irritation that his spellwork seemed to be holding so fast. It then changed rather swiftly to sublime irritation at himself blended with concern.
"Everyone stand back. Doubt he would rig anything explosive, but with what happened, one never knows." Andre stepped back, and concentrated for a moment, amorphous force called into being, more than enough to open a door, which he promptly set it to doing.
Assuming there was no great display of arcane pyrotechnics that would have them running for their collective lives, Andre approached the door, trying to steel himself to finding something most unpleasant.
After 3 Dispel Wards, and 2 dispel magics fail to work, I decide to try the reasonably intelligent thing. Unseen Servant, having it open the door once we're all back a relatively safe distance.
"Everyone stand back. Doubt he would rig anything explosive, but with what happened, one never knows." Andre stepped back, and concentrated for a moment, amorphous force called into being, more than enough to open a door, which he promptly set it to doing.
Assuming there was no great display of arcane pyrotechnics that would have them running for their collective lives, Andre approached the door, trying to steel himself to finding something most unpleasant.
After 3 Dispel Wards, and 2 dispel magics fail to work, I decide to try the reasonably intelligent thing. Unseen Servant, having it open the door once we're all back a relatively safe distance.
"Sometimes, Mr.Liquor cabinet is my only friend"
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NeoTiamat
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Re: The Eye of Anubis: Book Eight
Training Room, The Monastery of Stilled Nightmares, Sebua
July 17th, 761, 10:42 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"You would be correct in thinking that. The chain is used professionally only in Rokushima Taiyoo, though its informal use is rather more widespread." The Venerable Tharivas's smile grew just a bit broader, before disappearing completely. "Consider it a legacy of my misspent youth, if you will. Observe."
With those words, the black-robed figure turned towards one of the wooden targets against the wall. It was painted like an archery target, and the Venerable Tharivas stopped around fifteen feet from the edge. Then he struck.
Usually, when one says that a person strikes like a snake, they mean it figuratively as a short-hand for speed. In Tharivas's case, though, the method of attack bore more than a passing resemblance to a desert viper's strike. Loosening the chain with a shrug of the wrist, the elf threw it back into the air before whipping it forward at lightning speed, causing the tip to whistle through the air as it gouged a gash down the center of the target, faster than the eye could see. Another flick of the wrist threw the end of the chain back into Tharivas's outstretched hand, and the elf began to rewind the chain around his wrist.
You realized that it wasn't just a chain. Rather, one end attached to a steel bracer around Tharivas's wrist, and contained a small wooden handle for better control. The other end, however, was tipped with a wicked, sickle-like blade, several inches long and decidedly unpleasant to be on the recieving end of.
"I am fond of it." The Venerable Tharivas said serenely, as though he hadn't just lacerated a wooden target in approximately four seconds.
Professor Pelletier's Room, The Monastery of Stilled Nightmares, Sebua
July 17th, 761, 10:42 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Nothing happened as the door opened, no explosions or bolts of lightning or gouts of flesh-eating acid. Rather, all that Lia's magically-attuned senses detected was a small, discreet ping that traveled down the abjuration, only to stop and dissipate as a recipient was unavailable. It was an alarm spell, nothing more.
As you stepped closer to the door, however, rather more unpleasant discoveries awaited. Even before you had crossed the threshold, you recognized that sweet, coppery smell, which over the last months had become altogether too familiar to you. In the Muzeavh of Phiraz, in Ravnika, in Dezbar, you had been greeted with this metallic, tangy scent.
"Oh... sweet Ezra." Professor Carter breathed as he took in the sight. Behind you, Remy took one glance and fell back, decidedly green around the gills.
The late Professor Pelletier was slumped forward at the small desk the monks had provided him, though now most of the desk was rather well soaked with the senior academic's blood. Pelletier was still in the clothing you had last seen him, though now the dapper black academic's suit was covered with rich, crimson rivulets of gore. Blood had dribbled down his clothing, onto the desk and onto an open book beneath him, a book you recognized as the professor's spellbook. It had pooled beneath the chair, beneath the desk, and had spread out to cover much of the little abattoir's floor with sticky red carnage.
There really was an awful lot of blood.
All the same, no one rushed in to check if Professor Pelletier was alright. For you see, it was rather obvious the good doctor was not alright, and it was equally obvious the cause of all this blood. The good professor Pelletier had lost his head.
And it was nowhere to be found.
July 17th, 761, 10:42 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Somewhat to the surprise of all gathered, the elf actually smiled a little at Tomas's inquiry. Well, to be fair, it was a smile that was dry as a desert wind in Har'Akir and wintry as a blizzard in Vorostokov, but it was a smile.DocBeard wrote:"I thought they only used fighting chains in...well, I suppose we are in a mysterious and foreign land, but I was more thinking about Rokushuma or Sri Raji."
"You would be correct in thinking that. The chain is used professionally only in Rokushima Taiyoo, though its informal use is rather more widespread." The Venerable Tharivas's smile grew just a bit broader, before disappearing completely. "Consider it a legacy of my misspent youth, if you will. Observe."
With those words, the black-robed figure turned towards one of the wooden targets against the wall. It was painted like an archery target, and the Venerable Tharivas stopped around fifteen feet from the edge. Then he struck.
Usually, when one says that a person strikes like a snake, they mean it figuratively as a short-hand for speed. In Tharivas's case, though, the method of attack bore more than a passing resemblance to a desert viper's strike. Loosening the chain with a shrug of the wrist, the elf threw it back into the air before whipping it forward at lightning speed, causing the tip to whistle through the air as it gouged a gash down the center of the target, faster than the eye could see. Another flick of the wrist threw the end of the chain back into Tharivas's outstretched hand, and the elf began to rewind the chain around his wrist.
You realized that it wasn't just a chain. Rather, one end attached to a steel bracer around Tharivas's wrist, and contained a small wooden handle for better control. The other end, however, was tipped with a wicked, sickle-like blade, several inches long and decidedly unpleasant to be on the recieving end of.
"I am fond of it." The Venerable Tharivas said serenely, as though he hadn't just lacerated a wooden target in approximately four seconds.
Professor Pelletier's Room, The Monastery of Stilled Nightmares, Sebua
July 17th, 761, 10:42 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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It would appear that Darzegal's position as last priest of the Lorelei had rubbed a bit of oracular power off on him. Or perhaps he was merely luck. In any case...YalenusVeler wrote:Assuming there was no great display of arcane pyrotechnics that would have them running for their collective lives, Andre approached the door, trying to steel himself to finding something most unpleasant.
Nothing happened as the door opened, no explosions or bolts of lightning or gouts of flesh-eating acid. Rather, all that Lia's magically-attuned senses detected was a small, discreet ping that traveled down the abjuration, only to stop and dissipate as a recipient was unavailable. It was an alarm spell, nothing more.
As you stepped closer to the door, however, rather more unpleasant discoveries awaited. Even before you had crossed the threshold, you recognized that sweet, coppery smell, which over the last months had become altogether too familiar to you. In the Muzeavh of Phiraz, in Ravnika, in Dezbar, you had been greeted with this metallic, tangy scent.
"Oh... sweet Ezra." Professor Carter breathed as he took in the sight. Behind you, Remy took one glance and fell back, decidedly green around the gills.
The late Professor Pelletier was slumped forward at the small desk the monks had provided him, though now most of the desk was rather well soaked with the senior academic's blood. Pelletier was still in the clothing you had last seen him, though now the dapper black academic's suit was covered with rich, crimson rivulets of gore. Blood had dribbled down his clothing, onto the desk and onto an open book beneath him, a book you recognized as the professor's spellbook. It had pooled beneath the chair, beneath the desk, and had spread out to cover much of the little abattoir's floor with sticky red carnage.
There really was an awful lot of blood.
All the same, no one rushed in to check if Professor Pelletier was alright. For you see, it was rather obvious the good doctor was not alright, and it was equally obvious the cause of all this blood. The good professor Pelletier had lost his head.
And it was nowhere to be found.
Ravenloft GM: Eye of Anubis, Shattered City, and Prof. Lupescu's Traveling Ghost Show
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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Kaitou Kage
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"Go get Samael," Kuzan gritted his teeth, ordering someone -- Lia, Remy, one of the professors -- anyone. "Get him and bring him here. Travel in at least a pair. And take Remy with you, he doesn't need to see this..." This was important but he had messengers that could get out without much problem, and so he didn't see the need to use the stone just yet.
Kuzan gritted his teeth and gingerly stepped into the room, beckoning Dieter to follow him in. Having the field medic-in-training would be helpful, even when dealing with post-mortem operations. And if nothing else, it would be useful for teaching the Lamordian how to recognize the cause of wounds.
"Doctor's orders," Kuzan said to everyone around, swallowing hard and steeling himself against the carnage, "Nobody is to travel this monastery without one other person at his side. Make sure everyone knows that. Nobody will stay alone in a room or go anywhere by himself for the rest of our stay here."
The priest gave the gods of death, healing, and medicine an ironic thanks that he wasn't about to spill his breakfast and add to the color on the floor. He'd seen enough badly-mutilated bodies that he developed a resilient stomach. It didn't make these situations any more pleasant but he could at least bear it.
Still, he kicked himself mentally. He'd just had a talk with Sam about an issue just like this. Maybe if he'd made a pair of stones for Pelletier, too, this wouldn't have happened. And maybe if he had made the stones, Kuzan would also be laying here, headless, on the floor.
He gritted his teeth in frustration and fought back a cry of rage and frustration.
Focus on the matter at hand, and then I can shout, scream, growl, and punch something.
Or you could find who -- or what -- did this and punish him.
You again. I thought you went to sleep.
Wishful thinking. I kind of like this place. It makes me feel more...alive.
Can you just stay quiet so I can do this?
Certainly. But I may have to take matters into my own hands. You finally let someone die because of your ineptitude.
"Hey, snap out of it!"
Kuzan felt the hand on his shoulder shaking him gently. The priest shook his head and realized he'd fallen into a daze that Dieter was just now shaking him out of.
"Sorry," Kuzan mumbled. He slid off his uttariya and passed it to someone outside the room so he could work without bloodying the fabric, and then set to giving Pelletier a cursory autopsy.
"Here," Kuzan pointed at the late professor's chest, "This was the first wound. There's more bruising. He was stabbed with some kind of short blade or talon, and with a lot of force. It crushed his ribs. With his already-weak lungs, there's no way he would have survived. The second two pierced his heart..."
The priest sighed and continued explaining the chest wounds to Dieter for a few moments. He discussed how to tell what the first wound was, and which one was probably the killing blow, just from a quick examination and addressed some of his Lamordian buddy's questions on the slightly more esoteric issues.
"...And his head was cut off at least several minutes after he died," Kuzan explained with a peculiar, clinical deatchment. It seemed like a forced removal from reality, a requirement that he maintain a separation from the moment to stay sane. "You can tell because the blood is mostly on the floor instead of all over the walls. A lot of blood flows through the neck when your heart beats, so if someone had cut into him when he was alive, it would have sprayed from the pressure. As it is, he'd been dead long enough that the pressure drained from his head. Probably cut off by the same talon or knife...you can tell from the way the neck is cut here..."
Another short explanation followed by a brief question and answer session with Dieter, and Kuzan straightened up.
"He probably died right around midnight, which would be before we got our visitors...Something must've gotten in and either looked like someone he knew or caught him off guard."
Dammit, why did you insist on staying by yourself in a place where we were warned not to?
Do not worry. We will destroy the beast that disrupted the cycle.
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Oh, how rude. Very well. I'll come back later. Have fun with this one...
Kuzan gritted his teeth and gingerly stepped into the room, beckoning Dieter to follow him in. Having the field medic-in-training would be helpful, even when dealing with post-mortem operations. And if nothing else, it would be useful for teaching the Lamordian how to recognize the cause of wounds.
"Doctor's orders," Kuzan said to everyone around, swallowing hard and steeling himself against the carnage, "Nobody is to travel this monastery without one other person at his side. Make sure everyone knows that. Nobody will stay alone in a room or go anywhere by himself for the rest of our stay here."
The priest gave the gods of death, healing, and medicine an ironic thanks that he wasn't about to spill his breakfast and add to the color on the floor. He'd seen enough badly-mutilated bodies that he developed a resilient stomach. It didn't make these situations any more pleasant but he could at least bear it.
Still, he kicked himself mentally. He'd just had a talk with Sam about an issue just like this. Maybe if he'd made a pair of stones for Pelletier, too, this wouldn't have happened. And maybe if he had made the stones, Kuzan would also be laying here, headless, on the floor.
He gritted his teeth in frustration and fought back a cry of rage and frustration.
Focus on the matter at hand, and then I can shout, scream, growl, and punch something.
Or you could find who -- or what -- did this and punish him.
You again. I thought you went to sleep.
Wishful thinking. I kind of like this place. It makes me feel more...alive.
Can you just stay quiet so I can do this?
Certainly. But I may have to take matters into my own hands. You finally let someone die because of your ineptitude.
"Hey, snap out of it!"
Kuzan felt the hand on his shoulder shaking him gently. The priest shook his head and realized he'd fallen into a daze that Dieter was just now shaking him out of.
"Sorry," Kuzan mumbled. He slid off his uttariya and passed it to someone outside the room so he could work without bloodying the fabric, and then set to giving Pelletier a cursory autopsy.
"Here," Kuzan pointed at the late professor's chest, "This was the first wound. There's more bruising. He was stabbed with some kind of short blade or talon, and with a lot of force. It crushed his ribs. With his already-weak lungs, there's no way he would have survived. The second two pierced his heart..."
The priest sighed and continued explaining the chest wounds to Dieter for a few moments. He discussed how to tell what the first wound was, and which one was probably the killing blow, just from a quick examination and addressed some of his Lamordian buddy's questions on the slightly more esoteric issues.
"...And his head was cut off at least several minutes after he died," Kuzan explained with a peculiar, clinical deatchment. It seemed like a forced removal from reality, a requirement that he maintain a separation from the moment to stay sane. "You can tell because the blood is mostly on the floor instead of all over the walls. A lot of blood flows through the neck when your heart beats, so if someone had cut into him when he was alive, it would have sprayed from the pressure. As it is, he'd been dead long enough that the pressure drained from his head. Probably cut off by the same talon or knife...you can tell from the way the neck is cut here..."
Another short explanation followed by a brief question and answer session with Dieter, and Kuzan straightened up.
"He probably died right around midnight, which would be before we got our visitors...Something must've gotten in and either looked like someone he knew or caught him off guard."
Dammit, why did you insist on staying by yourself in a place where we were warned not to?
Do not worry. We will destroy the beast that disrupted the cycle.
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Oh, how rude. Very well. I'll come back later. Have fun with this one...
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Rock of the Fraternity
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Lia watches the scene of carnage without saying a word at first. Of course her mask makes it impossible to read her expression, but her fingers writhe slowly as she looks at the scene.
"Are," she finally asks, sounding slightly hesitant, "are we certain it is Pelletier? Not some - someone else with the same stature dressed in his clothes? Without his head, I can not rightly tell." She gulps audibly, then turns away, shoulders trembling slightly - and reaches out for Andre's hand.
"I do not wish to sound like an utter vulture," she says, back firmly turned on the room, "but ... would you slide his spellbook out from under him? If it is truly Pelletier and he is truly dead, then at least we should see that what remains of his most potent work which is worthy to go on survives him. It is ... a Wizard thing.
And as for ways he could have died ... There was an Alarm spell on his room, it seems. An incorporeal, invisible entity could have breezed right through it, then perhaps rematerialized and jumped him before he knew it was there."
"Are," she finally asks, sounding slightly hesitant, "are we certain it is Pelletier? Not some - someone else with the same stature dressed in his clothes? Without his head, I can not rightly tell." She gulps audibly, then turns away, shoulders trembling slightly - and reaches out for Andre's hand.
"I do not wish to sound like an utter vulture," she says, back firmly turned on the room, "but ... would you slide his spellbook out from under him? If it is truly Pelletier and he is truly dead, then at least we should see that what remains of his most potent work which is worthy to go on survives him. It is ... a Wizard thing.
And as for ways he could have died ... There was an Alarm spell on his room, it seems. An incorporeal, invisible entity could have breezed right through it, then perhaps rematerialized and jumped him before he knew it was there."
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yalenusveler
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"It may be a Wizard thing, but it will not be happening right now. Lia, go with the other professors and Remy and get Samael." There was a brief note of anger running through Andre's voice, anger mixed with nausea and purely human fear as his hand closed around Lia's, giving it a squeeze that was meant to be reassuring, but only served really to reassure her that this gruesome scene struck him just as hard.
"Kuzan..does the body feel right?" It was an odd question, but then again, Andre was a distinctly odd individual. "With our...adversaries skill with illusion magic, I don't want to discount the possibility that this is some sort of illusion, and he was abducted. I mean, it's within the realm of possibility, isn't it?"
Andre had begun breathing rhythmically, mostly through his mouth to avoid the scent of blood as much as he could, trying to keep himself calm enough to contribute. Words flew from his lips in a tounge unlike any Marchand Renier would recognize as he finally let go of Lia's hand enough for her to hopefully head out with the professors and Remy, and his hand formed signs of unveiling, his eyes beginning to sweep the room.
OOC:Casting Detect Secret doors, and starting to give the room a once over.
"Kuzan..does the body feel right?" It was an odd question, but then again, Andre was a distinctly odd individual. "With our...adversaries skill with illusion magic, I don't want to discount the possibility that this is some sort of illusion, and he was abducted. I mean, it's within the realm of possibility, isn't it?"
Andre had begun breathing rhythmically, mostly through his mouth to avoid the scent of blood as much as he could, trying to keep himself calm enough to contribute. Words flew from his lips in a tounge unlike any Marchand Renier would recognize as he finally let go of Lia's hand enough for her to hopefully head out with the professors and Remy, and his hand formed signs of unveiling, his eyes beginning to sweep the room.
OOC:Casting Detect Secret doors, and starting to give the room a once over.
"Sometimes, Mr.Liquor cabinet is my only friend"
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Rock of the Fraternity
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Lia makes an uninterpritable noise in the back of her throat, but nods. "Let's go," she says curtly to Marchand-Renier, Carter and Remy. "If you have weapons - or protective spells," she adds specifically to Remy - "with you, kindly get them ready. Please hurry; Kuzan and professor Theroux can hold the fort here, as it were.
But Theroux - secure that spellbook. Pelletier was a powerful Wizard. Such a thing should not fall into the hands of any of our known enemies, nor those of unknown enemies, yes?"
Provided the two professors and the linguistics student come along, Lia proceeds back to the refectory in search of Maleagant. She keeps eyes and ears well open the whole time.
But Theroux - secure that spellbook. Pelletier was a powerful Wizard. Such a thing should not fall into the hands of any of our known enemies, nor those of unknown enemies, yes?"
Provided the two professors and the linguistics student come along, Lia proceeds back to the refectory in search of Maleagant. She keeps eyes and ears well open the whole time.
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yalenusveler
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Andre nodded to Lia,biting back a rather barbed comment about grave robbing being wrong even if it was pragmatic, mostly because with the nature of their expedition that would be hypocrisy of the highest order.
"No secret doors, and this doesn't seem right. Dreamspawn feed upon fear, savor it like a gourmand would a grand meal. This had no apparent buildup, just wholesale slaughter. Although it COULD have been perpetrated by Night Terror, it's wildly out of character for a normal hunt." Andre would've started pacing, but he didn't want to take a leisurely stroll through a man's lifeblood. "Either he was perceived as a threat and not a meal..which isn't unlikely, or there's yet another agency at work here."
"No secret doors, and this doesn't seem right. Dreamspawn feed upon fear, savor it like a gourmand would a grand meal. This had no apparent buildup, just wholesale slaughter. Although it COULD have been perpetrated by Night Terror, it's wildly out of character for a normal hunt." Andre would've started pacing, but he didn't want to take a leisurely stroll through a man's lifeblood. "Either he was perceived as a threat and not a meal..which isn't unlikely, or there's yet another agency at work here."
"Sometimes, Mr.Liquor cabinet is my only friend"
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Kaitou Kage
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"He was stabbed through the front," Kuzan observed after a few more moments of closer examination, "See?" He pointed for Dieter around the wounds. "The bruising from the impact is here and the crushed ribs are caved in from the front side. Four times..."
Kuzan swallowed, momentarily thankful that the first blow killed the man.
"That means he was moved after he was killed. His killer put him in this position to make it look like he died reading. But..." Kuzan paused to look around. "The blood is all pooled here and there are no blood trails. He had to have been killed right around where he is now. He was probably standing when the killing blow struck, but it's hard to tell."
The priest gingerly extricated the spellbook and frowned, noting the bloody pages. He set it aside where it could be accessed later since he didn't know what to do with it. Then, he wiped his hands on a towel he kept in his magic satchel for just such a purpose, and then handed it to Dieter and turned to Andre with a solemn face.
"If this is not Pelletier, and is somehow a magically-created fake, we had best leave now," he pronounced, "because if this is a fake, whatever made this fake is too much for any or all of us to handle."
I will need a purification bath soon... he thought distantly, Gods...
Remember which one of them is capable of punishing the murderer.
Isn't murder something glorious to Her kind?
A tall tale if ever I heard one. We kill with purpose, not wantonly.
I thought I told you to shut up.
You tell me a lot of things...
Kuzan swallowed, momentarily thankful that the first blow killed the man.
"That means he was moved after he was killed. His killer put him in this position to make it look like he died reading. But..." Kuzan paused to look around. "The blood is all pooled here and there are no blood trails. He had to have been killed right around where he is now. He was probably standing when the killing blow struck, but it's hard to tell."
The priest gingerly extricated the spellbook and frowned, noting the bloody pages. He set it aside where it could be accessed later since he didn't know what to do with it. Then, he wiped his hands on a towel he kept in his magic satchel for just such a purpose, and then handed it to Dieter and turned to Andre with a solemn face.
"If this is not Pelletier, and is somehow a magically-created fake, we had best leave now," he pronounced, "because if this is a fake, whatever made this fake is too much for any or all of us to handle."
I will need a purification bath soon... he thought distantly, Gods...
Remember which one of them is capable of punishing the murderer.
Isn't murder something glorious to Her kind?
A tall tale if ever I heard one. We kill with purpose, not wantonly.
I thought I told you to shut up.
You tell me a lot of things...
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NeoTiamat
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Re: The Eye of Anubis: Book Eight
Professor Pelletier's Room, The Monastery of Stilled Nightmares, Sebua
July 17th, 761, 10:54 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Store-Rooms, The Monastery of Stilled Nightmares, Sebua
July 17th, 761, 10:54 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"Only academics could carry this much equipment which we've yet to use." Samael muttered as he made yet another tick on this account-book he was using for inventorying the gear. Between the recent attacks and all, figuring out what was where and where was what seemed like a good idea. "Will someone explain to me why we've got roughly three hundred pounds worth of photography equipment?"
"Remy's." Jervis grunted, lugging the aforementioned three hundred pounds of slow-exposure camera equipment. He didn't seem to be particularly bothered by the weight.
"Well, if we ever need a daguerreotype of rock, we'll know who to talk to." Samael sighed, as Professor Carter entered the room, two graduate students in tow. "Morning Prof., Lia, Remy, what's----"
It didn't take much of Samael's social attunement to realize that something was very badly wrong.
"What's wrong?"
July 17th, 761, 10:54 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"Now... interesting question." Sebastian Marchand-Renier murmurred, stepping into the room to gaze on Professor Pelletier's body. Of all the people involved, he seemed least affected. Then again, he was a Renier. "Was this meant to force us to stay here, to chase us out, or is it someone who was... unfond of the late Professor."Kaitou Kage wrote:"If this is not Pelletier, and is somehow a magically-created fake, we had best leave now," he pronounced, "because if this is a fake, whatever made this fake is too much for any or all of us to handle."
Store-Rooms, The Monastery of Stilled Nightmares, Sebua
July 17th, 761, 10:54 AM; Day 122 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"Only academics could carry this much equipment which we've yet to use." Samael muttered as he made yet another tick on this account-book he was using for inventorying the gear. Between the recent attacks and all, figuring out what was where and where was what seemed like a good idea. "Will someone explain to me why we've got roughly three hundred pounds worth of photography equipment?"
"Remy's." Jervis grunted, lugging the aforementioned three hundred pounds of slow-exposure camera equipment. He didn't seem to be particularly bothered by the weight.
"Well, if we ever need a daguerreotype of rock, we'll know who to talk to." Samael sighed, as Professor Carter entered the room, two graduate students in tow. "Morning Prof., Lia, Remy, what's----"
It didn't take much of Samael's social attunement to realize that something was very badly wrong.
"What's wrong?"
Ravenloft GM: Eye of Anubis, Shattered City, and Prof. Lupescu's Traveling Ghost Show
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
Lead Writer & Editor: VRS Files: Doppelgangers; Contributor: QtR #20, #21, #22, #23, #24
Freelance Writer for Paizo Publishing
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Rock of the Fraternity
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 6844
- Joined: Wed Nov 21, 2007 1:16 pm
"It would seem that professor Pelletier is dead," Lia replies bluntly. "Someone stabbed him, then decapitated his corpse and left it in his room."
For a moment, the Wizard shuddered visibly, then shook herself. "Decapitation. We have a cleric capable of bringing the dead back from the beyond, but I seem to recall he requires an intact corpse. Did the killer know this? But then why not take the whole corpse, instead of just the head? Or is this some necromantic procedure? Does the killer hope to milk the head for information? We need to find the head. And get diamonds. It is not too late yet. We might yet save Pelletier, but we need to ... we need to ..."
Lia sways again, and totters over to a wall, where she braces herself. "I have seen plenty of corpses," she mutters, "many corpses on this trip. But ... we were right next to his room. Kuzan said it happened around midnight. Why did we not hear anything?"
Again, the Wizard shakes herself. "The priest said to come get you," she tells Maleagant. "He said ... you should go. I will accompany you. But from now on, none of us, not one of us can be alone anymore in this place."
For a moment, the Wizard shuddered visibly, then shook herself. "Decapitation. We have a cleric capable of bringing the dead back from the beyond, but I seem to recall he requires an intact corpse. Did the killer know this? But then why not take the whole corpse, instead of just the head? Or is this some necromantic procedure? Does the killer hope to milk the head for information? We need to find the head. And get diamonds. It is not too late yet. We might yet save Pelletier, but we need to ... we need to ..."
Lia sways again, and totters over to a wall, where she braces herself. "I have seen plenty of corpses," she mutters, "many corpses on this trip. But ... we were right next to his room. Kuzan said it happened around midnight. Why did we not hear anything?"
Again, the Wizard shakes herself. "The priest said to come get you," she tells Maleagant. "He said ... you should go. I will accompany you. But from now on, none of us, not one of us can be alone anymore in this place."
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Nathan of the FoS
- Fiendish Enforcer
- Posts: 5247
- Joined: Fri Nov 28, 2003 3:39 pm
- Location: San Francisco CA
Charles just keeps himself from wincing at the Venerable Tharivas' display of proficiency. Merciful Ezra, that's fast.
"Good show!" he says aloud. "Ever so much more convenient not to have to stand next to people to reach them, isn't it? I suppose there's rather a knack to wrapping the chain so it comes off the arm smoothly?"
"Good show!" he says aloud. "Ever so much more convenient not to have to stand next to people to reach them, isn't it? I suppose there's rather a knack to wrapping the chain so it comes off the arm smoothly?"
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
"Some of the sailors back home used to use them...usually without the hooks, unless they could find a piece of grappling line that wasn't needed at the time." Tomas explains, applauding a little at the show of skill. "Seeing the crazy things the sailors carried was the closest thing we'd get to seeing the outside world back then."
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The Whistler
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 1454
- Joined: Thu Jun 07, 2007 7:38 pm
- Location: Southshore
Otto is silent for a number of seconds, as he mentally overwrites his definition of "attack from a distance." Considering his background, he has a rather *long* definition of this term, so it takes a good while. In the meantime, it takes a lot of effort for him to keep his mouth from hanging open.
...
...
But will it sell?
--Come on, it's a *boutique* item; since when have you ever made--but keep in mind you need training for *any* sort of firearm, so to some degree--same business model you're already running--contractor? Sailors? Darkonian, maybe?--lets see twenty pounds of iron ore is that even iron is it polite to ask--hit up Lucius maybe he knows someone who knows--minus overhead divided by--Fates I hate hiring unnecessary help though can't be in everyplace at once--dammit it's niche it's niche--WRITE THAT SHIPPING COMPANY RIGHT NOW YOU DON'T KEEP ALL THAT STATIONERY IN YOUR BACKPACK FOR NOTHING--
With considerable difficulty, Otto manages an impressed nod.
...
...
But will it sell?
--Come on, it's a *boutique* item; since when have you ever made--but keep in mind you need training for *any* sort of firearm, so to some degree--same business model you're already running--contractor? Sailors? Darkonian, maybe?--lets see twenty pounds of iron ore is that even iron is it polite to ask--hit up Lucius maybe he knows someone who knows--minus overhead divided by--Fates I hate hiring unnecessary help though can't be in everyplace at once--dammit it's niche it's niche--WRITE THAT SHIPPING COMPANY RIGHT NOW YOU DON'T KEEP ALL THAT STATIONERY IN YOUR BACKPACK FOR NOTHING--
With considerable difficulty, Otto manages an impressed nod.