Café de Nuit

Celeste looked rather surprised that the police were actually coming to her for assistance—this not being the sort of thing that generally happened to those with her lifestyle or competence level. Nonetheless, while she was duly concerned at Cedolin’s report, she was just as clearly pleased that he trusted her enough to bring a case to her doorstep.

“We of the Chateau…embroiled in two Intrigues in as many weeks? How uniquely active is the life of the adventuring classes—and how dire the circumstance! Captain Cedolin: though my skill in matters Investigative must pale in comparison to those of my comrades, you may count my meager talents alongside them. No effort is too great, when the safety of Our Lady’s servants is at risk!”

M. de Castaigne wrote:The Chapel's soul is strong...but there was something else there too, but I think that was isolated. I'm not certian, but I'm betting places that weren't affected besides the Gallery and the Cathedral were places that have strong souls.”

“A most poetic thought, M. Mauganson! Indeed, perhaps we must rely upon poetry as our guide when so embroiled in the Arcane.” She thought for a moment. “But perhaps the Tessier Gallery also laid claim to such a soul, as a home to our Nation’s grandest creative produce? Perhaps it is the connoisseur in me, but that the power of Art may have proved a bastion against ill-meant magecraft strikes me as singularly appealing!”

For the most part, Nerit was a steady foil to Celeste, but most of the other women were quieter than her (or Cerise) at all hours of the day.

Breakfast was a good time to see her. It was questionable whether she was in her room or out of the Chateau most of the time, but it was not as if she was sneaking around. She simply did not make socialization her priority.

"Pardon, Prof. Lessard," she gestured from across the table, wanting to read the broadsheet. When given to her, she skimmed over it and immediately doubled back to hone on one particular passage:

"...on charges of incitement to riot and black sorcery!" she scoffed, her lilting accent rising from her teeth in a rush, and it wasn't before long that her native tongue returned as well. "O tempora! O mores!"

She handed the paper back to Lessard and walked away, her face distorted into a flurry of undistilled emotion. "Vae, vae, vae," she muttered past the group.

~~~~~~~

Nerit was still apparently frustrated when she overheard the gendarme. She poked her veiled head back over the threshold to listen. Her emotion dwindled there, dripping down into whatever drain she had set up in her brain.

"Did you say 'disappeared'?"

She moved closer and passed Cyrus a dubious glance at his immediate offerings of assistance.

"I assure you, Captain, there are several here, including myself, who have more than an investment in the Cathedral's well-being." Here she gazed at Richard for a moment before the others.

As for the doomsaying of danger for the Chateau, she wasn't so sure.

Celeste wrote:
“A most poetic thought, M. Mauganson! Indeed, perhaps we must rely upon poetry as our guide when so embroiled in the Arcane.” She thought for a moment. “But perhaps the Tessier Gallery also laid claim to such a soul, as a home to our Nation’s grandest creative produce? Perhaps it is the connoisseur in me, but that the power of Art may have proved a bastion against ill-meant magecraft strikes me as singularly appealing!”

"It's not just poetry, it's fact." Kerrian said, polishing off the apple, and looking for an appropriate spot to dispose of the core. "As for the gallery having a strong spirit...it would make sense, I think." Kerrian paused a moment "I know after everything started going wrong, I felt something like what attacked me..but less tamed, more wild, and not the sort of thing to be protecting anyone...but it might've provoked the trouble."

Chateau Malchance, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; March 24th, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lia wrote:"You are welcome, for what the papers are worth," she says. "And as to that worth, I hope you do not mind if I ask you to tell us what there was of interest - or disinterest - in the late curator's papers. Something foul and confusing is afoot, and who knows whether a different point of view may yield different facts from the same paper?"

"I shouldn't... but if it will help, I will." Cedolin said hesitantly, but then nodded. "We haven't found too much yet, to be honest, but we've only scratched the surface as of yet."

"Ah... keep this to yourselves, please." The policeman looked at you with imploring eyes. "These kinds of agreements aren't always appreciated by people higher up the ranks."

Mr. Agale wrote:"Did he specify which tavern, and when the exchange took place?"

"A dockfront dive known as the Mutinied Sailor. I wouldn't recommend going there for clues. The gendarme's already been there, and it's not the kind of place you want to go with anything less than a small army." Cedolin said.

Mr. Agale wrote:"Will we carry the authority of the gendarme for the duration of this investigation?"

Cedolin paused at this, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke. "I can't offer that. I'm sorry, but that exceeds my authority by more than even I'm comfortable with. That said, if you find anything of interest, then you rest assured I'll follow with all the force that I can muster."

Lia wrote:Possibly the religious wards surrounding la Ste. Mêre des Larmes kept out a part of the insanity. If the University was similarly spared, that might be due to its own arcane wards."

Kerrian wrote:"The Chapel's soul is strong...but there was something else there too, but I think that was isolated. I'm not certain, but I'm betting places that weren't affected besides the Gallery and the Cathedral were places that have strong souls."

Celeste wrote:“But perhaps the Tessier Gallery also laid claim to such a soul, as a home to our Nation’s grandest creative produce? Perhaps it is the connoisseur in me, but that the power of Art may have proved a bastion against ill-meant magecraft strikes me as singularly appealing!”

"The Cathedral and the Tessier Gallery are the only places we've identified with group protections." Captain Cedolin said. He grimaced. "So we think. It is Mists-cursed hard to tell between people who aren't affected and those who are only lightly affected. The Cathedral and the Tessier Gallery we're sure of. The University... has had enough incidents that the gendarmerie considers it among the affected."

"The recent arrests haven't made investigation at the University any easier." Cedolin sighed. "But the decisions regarding that were made at a much higher level than mine."

Nerit wrote:"...on charges of incitement to riot and black sorcery!" she scoffed, her lilting accent rising from her teeth in a rush, and it wasn't before long that her native tongue returned as well. "O tempora! O mores!"

She handed the paper back to Lessard and walked away, her face distorted into a flurry of undistilled emotion. "Vae, vae, vae," she muttered past the group.

Remy took the paper in hand, brows furrowing as he glanced at the cover article again. Jacob de Casteelle Arrested, the paper read. Lessard glanced back at Nerit, brows furrowing.

"Are you quite alright, sister?" The tall, platinum-blond academic asked, looking at Nerit curiously.

Tomas wrote:"There are...predators, in the sewer and elsewhere. They would grow bolder as the strength of the city watch dwindles; this could all be coincidence. Ran into a little trouble myself with a fish monster the day of, to be honest."

"Fish monster?" Cerise interrupted, looking at Tomas curiously. "What kind of fish monster?"

Kerrian wrote:"So...where and when do we start investigating? The most recent disappearance, or the first?"

"The three priests disappeared from the Cathedral. All of them had rooms there, all of them lived there. One of them disappeared last night, the other two the night before." Cedolin filled you in. "Their names were Warden Bertin Lecanu, Warden Christin Vaillant, and Warden Martin Grenier. All were priests that the gendarmerie had come to believe were unaffected by this mind-sickness. So Ste. Mares des Larmes would be the logical place to begin. I can write you an introduction to Bastion Pineau, if you like."

Nerit wrote:"I assure you, Captain, there are several here, including myself, who have more than an investment in the Cathedral's well-being." Here she gazed at Richard for a moment before the others.

"I'm glad to hear you say that." Cedolin said, even as Richard nodded along to Nerit's words. The gendarme continued. "Because the two of you are on a very short list of anchorites considered unaffected by this mind-plague. Considering that all the disappearances have been of unaffected anchorites so far, then you two may both be in rather more danger than the rest."

"I would be careful, Sister." Cedolin said quietly. "I would be very careful were I in your place."

Tomas keeps quiet for a bit, though he grows increasingly concerned as people he didn't expect started assuming they were tagging along. "Now hold on a minute..." But the speech is flying so quickly that, well, Tomas keeps his protest to himself for now. Seeing Sister Nerit's reaction to Remy's paper is similarly distracting, and Eisenwald mentally echoes his old friend's question.

"Mind controller. Didn't get a good look at it, but Charles made sure young Christophe wasn't permanently afflicted. Should've killed it, but there was the matter of..." Tomas absent mindfully raps off to Cerise, before remembering that she is one of the people he should be keeping away from that sort of thing. "...of nothing you need to worry about! And you two," Tomas gestures at Cerise and Kerrian, "Can have a first date at some awkward, overpriced bistro like nature intended, instead of skulking around a crime scene!"

Oh, that'll calm them down, Tomas, he thinks to himself. Rubbing his face with a meaty paw(the other held up to request silence from the students, since even Tomas isn't going to tell obvious veterans like Nicholas what to do.) "...look, what I mean is, I'm not going to let you kids go skipping into danger without a solid reason. I promised Charles I'd look after the people living here, and I never break a promise." Tomas holds his hands on his hips, "Ever."

As expected, a lot of talk, most of it meaningless. Agale asked a couple of good questions, though, and the witchwoman seems to have some sense to her observations as well.

Darius doesn't know what to make of the Lamordian talking about fish. He has very little idea what to make of the Lamordian, either, come to that. Somehow he seems to have gotten the idea he is responsible for the rest of the people here, which should be good for a laugh--as long as he doesn't try that act on the Isfahanis.

"Did the priests have anything else in common, Captain?" he asks. "Where did they disappear from, and at what time?"

Nicolas sighs and drops his cigarette in the dregs of his coffee. "Laudible Herr Eisenwald, but I think your battle is lost before you have even begun." He says glancing around at what are undoubtabely a few faces full of youthful outrage.

"Passion is a rare and lovely thing, the true passion of youth and hope. It is a pebble dropped in a stagnant pond, it is the striking of an unheard bell. And like both the ripples and the echoes it cannot be stifled, even with noble sentiment."

He pauses for a moment, cocking his ear towards the ceiling as if listening intently for something, then shakes his head and continues a little more distratcedly. "I would also suspect that the more minds and skills we can employ the better, besides these are not children, if they choose to embark on this, it is their decision." He finshes with a faint smile at the gathering.

Glanicng across at the captain he asks "So how quickly can you arrange the letter of introduction?"

Captain Cedolin wrote:"I would be careful, Sister." Cedolin said quietly. "I would be very careful were I in your place."

Nerit appeared to be having a staring contest with no one. Or rather, Cedolin's epauletts.

Nuns had a certain finesse, you know, especially when holding a ruler over a child's palm. In this case, the expression was more of a nun who'd just emptied out a child's desk and found a very naughty picture. Of her. And the chapel priest.

"Do not concern yourself with a foreigner churchmouse, Monsieur Captain," she said stiffly. Something was clicking, clicking, clicking, behind her eyes. Gears and springs falling into place.

She finally turned to Lessard and said, "I am fine, Prof. I was merely upset at the newspaper. Do you really think they have any idea what they're talking about? No, they do not. It is not that easy to catch someone as fiendish as this. If he really practiced 'black sorcery' that could afflict an entire capital, I doubt they'd be able to catch him, or even know who he was!" Nerit glanced back at Cedolin, pointedly, and for a moment there was a flicker of not anger, but fear.

"There are not only giants in power, sister," Lia says in a soothing tone. "Sometimes men - and women - who hold power are weak at heart, and they seek scapegoats when they can not find those truly responsible, all to bolster their own positions. The University is a very convenient one, after the incident with the escaped fire elemental." She shrugs in Cedolin's direction. "No offence intended to you, sir. You have given every impression of being a stalwart man. But not all your superiors have proven themselves to be such over the course of the years."

Nicolas looks around a little non-plussed at the nun's reaction to the paper and the ensuing conversation. Reaching over he grasps the broadsheet with a quirked eyebrow asking acquiensence from Remy. Leaning back he lights another cigarette and scans the copy.

His eyes widen and he lets out a whistle between his teeth in exclamation. "Seems that hack Pelay is a victim too, a sad end for anyone." Despite the moderate words he glares viciously at the piece smoke curling from the cigarette clamped tightly in his teeth.

Agale raised an eyebrow at Nicolas mentioning the dead writer. For a moment, a smirk considered snaking across his face, but decided the better of it and slinked back down beneath his usual impassive expression. "Until a more certain test is devised to establish who is and is not affected by this madness, we should continue to take extra precautions, even with respect to each other." No small feat, he thought to himself, especially considering the baselines of some of those present. With the last thought, his gaze meanders over nearly everyone present.

"My schedule has a gap today if the rest of you are game to inquire at the cathedral?" he asked before taking another bite of his cake.

Chateau Malchance, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; March 24th, 770
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darius wrote:"Did the priests have anything else in common, Captain?" he asks. "Where did they disappear from, and at what time?"

"As near as I can tell, all disappeared from Ste. Mares des Larmes, and all of them disappeared at night. They were seen at the evening meal, were missing by morning, and their beds were unslept in." Cedolin ran his hand through his hair again. "Otherwise... Lecanu and Vaillant were quiet, scholarly men, of the sort that almost never leave the Cathedral basements and instead focus on their research. They disappeared on the first night. Warden Grenier was one of the more radical preachers, originally from Darkon. He dissapeared yesterday."

Tomas Eisenwald wrote: "...look, what I mean is, I'm not going to let you kids go skipping into danger without a solid reason. I promised Charles I'd look after the people living here, and I never break a promise." Tomas holds his hands on his hips, "Ever."

Nicolas wrote:Nicolas sighs and drops his cigarette in the dregs of his coffee. "Laudible Herr Eisenwald, but I think your battle is lost before you have even begun." He says glancing around at what are undoubtabely a few faces full of youthful outrage.

"Too late, Tomas!" Remy chuckled darkly. "The only way anyone here is going to stay safe is if you throw them out of the house with a ticket to Lamordia. Indeed, if the train tracks weren't broken, I'd have half a mind to recommend it. As it stands, there's no guarantee that staying at home will be any safer than investigating with well armed comrades." The pale professor reached for the teapot, and was preempted by Favonius, who filled cups for everyone at the table.

"Well, I am biased, after all," Lessard said wryly. "After what happened in Muhar and the buried city, I flatter myself to think I have a point."

Nerit wrote:She finally turned to Lessard and said, "I am fine, Prof. I was merely upset at the newspaper. Do you really think they have any idea what they're talking about? No, they do not. It is not that easy to catch someone as fiendish as this. If he really practiced 'black sorcery' that could afflict an entire capital, I doubt they'd be able to catch him, or even know who he was!" Nerit glanced back at Cedolin, pointedly, and for a moment there was a flicker of not anger, but fear.

Lessard raised his eyebrows at the outburst, but nothing more. "As a faculty member and potential suspect, you can hardly expect an unbiased opinion from me," he said. He folded his hands on the table, regarding Nerit with a mildly curious expression.

"The nobility and much of the Council believes that only a group of powerful mages would be capable of the destruction witnessed," Cedolin replied to Sister Doherty, stiffly. "The University is the only area with the resources and the people. The artifacts being in their hands when they were stolen has been considered further evidence against them."

"Hmm, well, it is hard to argue with that." Lessard took a sip of his tea. Cedolin frowned at how blaise the professor seemed about the matter, but Remy just shrugged slightly. "The University is patronized by very many illustrious mages," the professor said, twirling the ring on his right hand.

Lia wrote:She shrugs in Cedolin's direction. "No offence intended to you, sir. You have given every impression of being a stalwart man. But not all your superiors have proven themselves to be such over the course of the years."

"It is my duty and honor to serve the Lord Governer and his nobly elected advisors," Cedolin said in response. His expression said he did not want to discuss anything further on the subject, either out of offense or fear that he'd put his foot in his mouth.

"Thank, thank you for your, your dillegence," Richard told him, sincerely.

Nicolas wrote:Glancing across at the captain he asks "So how quickly can you arrange the letter of introduction?"

"Right here and right now, if someone would give me a pen and paper." Cedolin said, checking his pockets for a writing implement of some sort.

"You can use mine, Captain." Prof. Lessard said passing the gendarme the pen he used to grade with, as well as a sheet of paper. Remy usually had something to write with at hand. It was the sort of thing he did.

"Thank you, Professor." Cedolin said. Quickly and neatly, in a hand that was obviously used to writing reports on a daily basis, Cedolin wrote out the letter of introduction to Bastion Pineau. All it said, simply, was that you were helping Cedolin in the investigation, and that Cedolin would appreciate any aid the Bastion could show. It was brief and to the point, but it would work.

"There you are. This ought to let you see the Bastion, at the very least." Cedolin said, passing the paper back across the table. Satisfied, he picked up the cup of tea that Favonius had provided and took a large gulp.

"Have you considered that this might be some kind of purely internal issue in the clergy?" Prof. Lessard said. He frowned a little. "Maybe it has nothing to do with this general madness, Cedolin?...Cedolin? Cedolin!"

The captain of the gendarme was not paying attention to Remy any more. A horrified look crossed Captain Cedolin's eyes, and he leaned forward in his chair, dropping the tea-cup as he wrapped both hands around his throat. It fell to the floor and shattered, sending dark liquid and porcelain shards spinning across the floor.

Cedolin began to cough. A hideous, wracking sound, moist and astonishingly painful to listen to. For a moment, nothing happened, then from Cedolin's open mouth a glob of blood fell onto the kitchen table. It was followed by another, and then blood began to pour in a steady stream from the hapless gendarme captain.

Heal Check to help Cedolin.
Perception Check to try and figure out what happened to Cedolin.

"Stop drinking tea!" Cyrus barked immediately. He beckoned his brother over to help with the Captain and then began trying to pick up the shards of Cedolin's teacup.

"There was something in this," he said, "I saw something off as it fell. Quickly, Mourneswaithe, Doherty, see if there is magic at work. Doherty, can you heal? Take a look at him. The rest of you, see if there are signs of anyone who is not supposed to be here."

Say what one would about Cyrus, he had a level head and reacted quickly under pressure. He could be an ass but he was also efficient when the need arose.

"We need to get him into a better position," the dommer said as he fetched the shards, "Do not mop up the tea. We may be able to find what was in it. Does anyone know how to identify dangerous substances?"

Cyrus pointedly did not look at his brother when he asked.

"Tomas, we're already invo..." Kerrian's statement was cut short by the rather sudden turn for the worse that Captian Cedolin took. In a flash, Kerrian was at the Gendarme's side.

"Something just tore his throat from the inside..." came the rather quick diagnosis, followed by something equally as quick, yet not quite so mundane. What looked to be silver vapor began to seep from the corners of Kerrian's eyes, and from his mouth, coalescing into a rather large semi-transparent hound, positioned to attack anyone that threatened his master or his master's charge.

Besides apparently summoning some sort of defender, Kerrian also set to work on the man's wounds, his eyes taking on the same mirrored sheen as the substance that seeped from them moments ago, the same flickering over Captian Cedolin as Kerrian served as the focus for...something.

OOC:28 on a Heal Check augmented with Speak with Spirits, then free action to call spirit companion, then using Healing Spirit on Cedolin. Also, spirit companion is Adjacent to Cedolin, giving him a +1 to all defenses, if it matters. Also, a 29 on the perception check, which I failed to notice.

In a rather undignified manner, Mr. Agale spat out his tea. "He's swallowed something sharp!" he barked. Not glass, his mind raced, the captain would have noticed. His mind whirring, a look of distaste crosses the Borcan's face as he stares across the table at the dying captain. "Quickly now, lean him forward, open his mouth and induce vomiting! The irritant needs to be removed."