The Shattered City: Chapter Five

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Seven-clawed..." Lia says, her eyes widening. Then she audibly gulps. "Oh, that is... That is not good. Ennui. A Greater Dreamspawn, a creature that normally lives only in the dreamworld. I... I'm afraid Lord Night Terror might be involved. He is an old enemy from our Expedition days, one with particular reason to despise Andre. And if a Dreamspawn materialized here, then... then I have to assume that the barriers between planes are weakened."

The Mage looks around more intently, a frown on her forehead. "This place is warded to the hilt," she says. "But these are all alarm bell-type wards. Andre may have been alerted to the intrusion, but I have no idea whether that was enough for him to escape."

[Nerit]

"I beg your pardon, Professeur?" Nerit turned toward Lia, with a face somewhere between 'pained' and 'nonplussed.' "Who is the Lord Night Terror? A Dreamlord?"

She then eyed the claw marks again. "What happened to M. Theroux on this expedition?"


Arcana 25.

[The Whistler]

Ennui. A Greater Dreamspawn, a creature that normally lives only in the dreamworld. ......then I have to assume that the barriers between planes are weakened."

"Oh." Celeste paused. "Oh...that does not sound at all like a pleasant state of affairs. Weakening of the barriers, did you say? Most distasteful." Mlle. Viardot's tone of voice was unique to those who really wish they knew what they were talking about.

"Well!" She snapped open her fan, partially as a gesture of resolve, and partially as a visual barrier against the ridiculous amounts of blood. "I should say, all matters under consideration, that we should not allow such a grievous circumstance to go unremedied! Forgive my uncharacteristic boldness, mesdames and messieurs, but would it not be customary, among adventurers, to seek out this M. Dreamspawn and--pardon the phrase--'give him what for'?" She somehow managed to pronounce the quotation marks. "I speak only from a position of ignorance, you understand."

Arcana 22!

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Yes, Night Terror is a Dreamlord," Lia answers Nerit's question. "Andre tricked him into leaving us be while we were investigating a demon whose very existence was eroding the barriers between dimensions. When he discovered we were continuing our work to end the demon, rather than moving on as promised, he was... upset, to put it mildly."

Turning to Celeste, Lia manages a weak smile. "If I understand our comrade correctly" - the Mage makes a brief, appreciative gesture in Benoit's direction - "then there are no tracks on this physical plane. The Dreamspawn would then most likely be back in the dreamworld."

Frowning slightly, Lia turns back to Guy. "Did you find Andre's personal shrine to the Oracle of the River?"

[NeoTiamat]

#179, Rue de la Corniche, Near the University of Dementlieu, Late Morning of June 8th, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Who is the Lord Night Terror? A Dreamlord?" She then eyed the claw marks again. "What happened to M. Theroux on this expedition?"

“Andre tends to attract trouble.” Benoit said. Coming from the assassin of Dominic D’Honaire and one of the most wanted criminals in the Western Core, this was either a stunning show of hypocrisy, or an indication of just how much trouble Professor Theroux got into during the Expedition. “Lia has the gist of it. Curious how Night Terror got from Sebua to here though.”

"If I understand our comrade correctly" - the Mage makes a brief, appreciative gesture in Benoit's direction - "then there are no tracks on this physical plane. The Dreamspawn would then most likely be back in the dreamworld."

“I didn’t find any blood tracks from this battle.” Guy corrected. “But I haven’t had time to do a thorough search of the exterior. Someone may have come and left if they avoided getting splashed by the blood. Night Terror is likely back in the Dreamworld, though.”

Frowning slightly, Lia turns back to Guy. "Did you find Andre's personal shrine to the Oracle of the River?"

“No.” Guy said. He was rather more certain of this than of the absence of tracks. “But then I’m not sure he’d even keep it in the house.”

[Nathan of the FoS]

"We are still presented with a conundrum," Mercator notes, his voice slightly muffled. He's taken a handkerchief from a pocket of his coat and is breathing through it. "Where are the bodies? And if this, ah, night terror? Is that its name? Night Terror?...is a sworn enemy of Professor Theroux..."

He pauses, collecting his thoughts, and continues, "There is..." Pausing, he shrugs and apparently decides to stick with understatement. "A great deal of blood. If it is from men sent to attack Professor Theroux, as we were attacked, did the dreamspawn interfere and kill them itself? If so, why?"

[lostboy]

"Soo let me get this straight. We are in fact looking at something; very big, inordinately strong, with six or seven claws the size of daggers on each hand, a distinct lack of empathy for human life, a vendetta against Professor Theroux and likely created from the fabric of nightmares." Nicolas says looking less enthused with each point he ticks off on his fingers.

“But I haven’t had time to do a thorough search of the exterior. Someone may have come and left if they avoided getting splashed by the blood. Night Terror is likely back in the Dreamworld, though.”

"You know I think I'll follow your suggestion and check outside."

OOC: Perception 21 to check the immediate surroundings for signs of tracks

[Rock of the Fraternity]

“Andre tends to attract trouble.” Benoit said. Coming from the assassin of Dominic D’Honaire and one of the most wanted criminals in the Western Core, this was either a stunning show of hypocrisy, or an indication of just how much trouble Professor Theroux got into during the Expedition. “Lia has the gist of it. Curious how Night Terror got from Sebua to here though.”

"The dream world is the dream world," Lia says with a shrug. "As far as I know, it is all one place. If we are dealing with Night Terror, he could have walked to get here, considering all the years that have passed since we were in Sebua. Considering how weird that place is, however, there are likely to be other ways to travel the distance.
Or if you refer to him finding out where Andre went - all men and women dream. Sooner or later, one of the Dreamspawn would have noticed Andre's presence here. After that, it would only be a matter of time before Night Terror found out."

"We are still presented with a conundrum," Mercator notes, his voice slightly muffled. He's taken a handkerchief from a pocket of his coat and is breathing through it. "Where are the bodies? And if this, ah, night terror? Is that its name? Night Terror?...is a sworn enemy of Professor Theroux..."

He pauses, collecting his thoughts, and continues, "There is..." Pausing, he shrugs and apparently decides to stick with understatement. "A great deal of blood. If it is from men sent to attack Professor Theroux, as we were attacked, did the dreamspawn interfere and kill them itself? If so, why?"

"There may not have been assassins to attack Andre as we were assaulted," Lia says with a shrug. "There may instead have been a rupture of the barrier between plains, and nightmare may have reigned here for a time. Nightmare, such as the horror of drowning in blood?
Or if there were men, maybe they were slain by the Ennui, and their bodies were dragged into the Dreamworld afterwards.
And if your theory is correct, then I can think of one reason why a dreamspawn would stop assassins from killing Andre. It might not want to share the kill - or let its master be robbed of the satisfaction of revenge."

[Nerit]

Nerit bit her lip as she continued to peer up at the ceiling. "So, magistra--professeur--you asserted that the assassins were Fraternity men, with snakes on their fingers?

"And, pray, who are we missing amongst our numbers? Professeurs Lessard, Lemercier, Petrik..." she trailed off. The nun seemed to mull this newly realized fact as she pushed loose strands of hair back toward her bun. "Either they have been taken, or they have betrayed us. We are not safe at the Chateau. We should not go back." She offered Benoit a cursory glance and crossed her arms.

"We need help."




18 Perception. Nuffin'.

[yalenusveler]

"Lemercier wouldn't betray us." Kerrian said with the same certainty that people reserved for things like the sun coming up, or water being wet. "And he trusts Petrik, and I doubt she would betray us. And I don't think Professor Lessard would either. They've been taken, or were elsewhere. And obviously we're not safe in our home, we were attacked there."

[NeoTiamat]

#179, Rue de la Corniche, Near the University of Dementlieu, Late Morning of June 8th, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lemercier wouldn't betray us." Kerrian said with the same certainty that people reserved for things like the sun coming up, or water being wet. "And he trusts Petrik, and I doubt she would betray us. And I don't think Professor Lessard would either. “

“I don’t think Remy would.” Benoit said, though he sounded somewhat less sanguine about it than Kerrian did. Though people did change. “Can’t say about the other two, so you’d best hope you’re right.”

And obviously we're not safe in our home, we were attacked there."

We are not safe at the Chateau. We should not go back." She offered Benoit a cursory glance and crossed her arms.

“Devereux’s will be as safe as any place for the moment.” Benoit said. He leaned against a wall, one of the few unbloodied parts of the entrance hall. “Give me a few hours and I can set up a safehouse in the Quartier Ouvrier.”

"We need help."

“Information would be nice too.” Benoit said, with a sudden wolfish smile. “Whichever we do, we’d best keep moving. This group is too large to stay unnoticed in any one place for long. Where to next? Renier’s?”

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Yes," Lia says. "We should check on Sebastian, he has been a loyal friend and ally for years. After we know what's become of him... we can decide on a course of action then."

[Kaitou Kage]

“Information would be nice too.” Benoit said, with a sudden wolfish smile. “Whichever we do, we’d best keep moving. This group is too large to stay unnoticed in any one place for long. Where to next? Renier’s?”

Rex tilted his head and watched Guy like a cat watched a mouse before deciding whether to eat it.

"I will ask certain people," he said, "I serve a number of customers, several of which might know what is going on."

The pharmacist was ambivalent about the next stop. If it was to the Renier's place, then it was to the Renier's place. But he might have to slip away en route and accost some of his contacts.

[The Whistler]

“Devereux’s will be as safe as any place for the moment.” Benoit said. He leaned against a wall, one of the few unbloodied parts of the entrance hall. “Give me a few hours and I can set up a safehouse in the Quartier Ouvrier.”

"I should offer my own family residence at Bienassis!" Celeste looked happy to make the suggestion. "...Were it not rather less defensible than the alternatives. It is a fine and stately house, yes! But comparatively ill-furnished in wards, at least as far as I am aware. Still, if it becomes necessary to retreat to the country, perhaps we might consider it as an attractive option! It has been vacant several years hence, save for a caretaker that my Uncle in the city maintains: we should not cause undue commotion were we to resort to its happy grounds."

“Where to next? Renier’s?”

"Hear, hear! One should always make sure that one's friends and associates are safe and unmolested, in a time of crisis." Celeste seemed undisturbed by the fact that her life was in imminent danger, which, on reflection, really shouldn't have surprised you.

"I will ask certain people," he said, "I serve a number of customers, several of which might know what is going on."

"As should I, with my own circle of acquaintances!" Celeste's circle of acquaintances was probably a good deal less likely to know about assassination plots, but there you go. "...Though I would regret seeing dear Uncle and Yvette enmeshed in such a business, lest they suffer some like malfeasance...perhaps I may inquire discreetly. Or of M. Rochefort, or Mlle. Blondin, or..."

Celeste whipped out her day planner and a pencil, and was soon buried in her contact list.

[NeoTiamat]

Le Retraite de Manoir, North of Port-a-Lucine, Midday of June 8th, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Because he didn’t flaunt it, it was really very easy to forget that Prof. Marchand-Renier was also Sieur Sebastian Marchand-Renier, near relative to not just the ruling Renier clan of Richemulot, but also the exceedingly wealthy Marchand family. The linguist may not have had access to the main family fortune, but he had wealth enough to live in style, and he did. Marchand-Renier lived at the Manor Retreat, a luxurious old estate north of the city which had been converted into guest suites for wealthy, long-term visitors to the city. Marchand-Renier had been living in Port-a-Lucine for more than fifteen years now, and yet he still lived in what amounted to an exceedingly luxurious boarding house. It said something about the man.

There was no one manning the front entrance when you entered, which was unusual in and of itself, and you rapidly made your way to the suite of rooms which the professor occupied. As you approached, you could hear voices talking in the living room of Marchand-Renier’s quarters. Benoit, leading the way, lifted a finger to his lips for silence.

“I am not going back in there!” Said a first voice, masculine but with a distinctly high-pitched tone to it, and sounding exceedingly aggrieved just at the moment. In short, it was Bertram Renier. “He bloody shot me!”

“Better you than himself.” His sister could be heard to say without a great deal in the way of sympathy for her wounded brother. “Was it silver?”

“No…” Bertram said. “This does not mean it does not hurt like hell, though!”

“Oh, stop whining.” Bertriz said with a sniff. “You’ll heal. Now go do something useful and get the gun away from Uncle Sebastian before he does something foolish.”

It was at this point that further eavesdropping was interrupted. You had been moving quietly through the Retraite de Manoir, uncertain of what other horrors might be lurking in the estate. Having already encountered a Fraternity assassin-squad and witnessed the handiwork of a Dreamlord first-hand, a certain amount of caution was a wise idea. Nevertheless, the first you heard of Felise and Christophe Renier was when the former struck a match.

You whirled, and behind you stood the two Reniers. Christophe, a big hulk of a young man, with his earnest face and slightly puppy-ish look, and Felise, an older woman in her thirties, dressed in a rather form-fitting dress and holding what appeared to be a cylindrical canister of unknown contents, with a fuse coming out of one end. It was unlikely that anything good happened when the fuse ran out. She held the match in one hand, though she didn’t light the canister.

“Thank goodness, you’re here!” Christophe said, his entire body seeming to relax. “We were afraid it might have been someone else.”