The Shattered City: Chapter Four

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Easily in but not so easily out," Mercator mutters to himself. It seems that the young man has been persuaded (and the young lady was very persuasive, it must be said), and that's all to the good, but his erstwhile minions have become restive at losing their master.

"Tiresome, very tiresome," he continues, edging toward the edge of the vortex and trying to steer clear of a particularly enraged group of spirits. It would be so easy, so fatefully easy, to make his escape if he were only to--

As he considers his options his expression goes from neutral to grim. Not yet. Not without at least attempting it without...that.

Clenching his jaw, he rushes forward, feeling the cold of the grave bite at his bones as the spirits close in around him.

Endurance 16.

[Cronax]

A smile cracked across Mr. Agale's usually neutral countenance. It wasn't an innocently joyful smile. Rather, it was one of those cruel little smiles, full of smugness and incorrigible mirth. I love it when a plan comes together. He shot another glance towards Miss Viardot, straightened his tie, then disappeared leaving a circle of highly confused wraiths. 'Invisibility' would perhaps be an inaccurate term for what happened. Instead, the Borcan simply became extremely difficult to look at, your own mind telling you there simply was nothing of consequence in the space where the lawyer stood. Under such guises, Agale nonchalantly walked toward the edge of the maelstrom.


Using Mind Shadow for an automatic Stealth success.
Using Send Thoughts again.
For Celeste again:

Splendid work madam.
Gauvin will take custody of the book.
We should duplicate it quickly.
If transcription lies outside your expertise,
I offer my own.
Once again, you can respond with 25 words.

[yalenusveler]

And now everything had gone crazy. Oh, things were crazy before, but this was unquiet dead spirit hybrids flying everywhere out for blood sort of crazy.
Which meant it was time to do one thing.
Run.

Kerrian was far from the world's most gifted athlete, and he lacked the grace and poise of several of his companions. But working where he did gave him a bit more endurance than one would expect, and if he couldn't run past the cloud of wraiths, he would simply run through them.

OOC:16 on an endurance check

[The Whistler]

Celeste favored Thierri with an incredibly grateful look as she flew out towards the rim of the swarm--no words being particularly suitable for this occasion. In fact, it was precisely because of her focus on the not-quite-late M. Boucher that she failed to notice that her backwards trajectory somehow missed Rex, Remy and ten to thirty wraiths on its way through the crowd. Given circumstances, this was approximately as likely as a basejumper managing to miss the ground.

Relatively quick post tonight, as I'm away from my usual computer! 19 on an Acrobatics check.

[NeoTiamat]

2 Days, 22 Hours, 56 Minutes
On the River-Front, Quartier Ouvrier, Port-a-Lucine, Just After Midnight on April 22nd, 770
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PC & NPC Actions
Lia = Tries to slightly protect Tomas.
Tomas = Uses Divine Challenge to give Lia an automatic success and himself an automatic failure.
Kerrian = Fails an Endurance.
Rex = Sneaks away very effectively.
Mercator = Fails an Endurance.
Agale = Uses Mind-Shadow for an automatic success.
Nicolas = Succeeds on an Endurance
Nerit = Sneaks away with greater effectiveness than Rex.
Celeste = Fails her Acrobatics check, which I'll ignore in favor of Rex getting her to safety.


Kerrian and Mercator both take 15 Necrotic Damage and lose 1 Healing Surge. Tomas loses 1 Healing Surge.

A ripple suddenly shot thought the wraiths. It started on the the very edge of the spirit cloud, exploding inward at rapid speeds. You could see the shift happening in the distance from you, the floating wraiths breaking off and darting away, the pale white circle collapsing in on itself like a lunar eclipse. The harsh whispers of the wraiths became more uniform and more prevalent, almost taking on a frantic tone.

• He's coming.

• • • He's coming.

He's coming.


It was like an oncoming tidal wave as the spectral spiral broke, a stream of onrushing spirits rushing overhead like a loosed river. If one could stand on the edge of a storm without being blown away, this must have been what it would feel like - the rushing ghosts flowing around you, tearing at you like razor wind. The great force seemed to affect the spirits around Thierri as well, ripping them away one by one, like planks of wood yanked loose by a tornado. You caught a fleeting glimpse of the ashen young man through the chaos, his flaming eyes wide, and his face locked in an expression of fear. He mouthed a word, too far away for anyone to hear. Then with a black flash, like an imploding star ripping a hole in space, the magician vanished completely. The stream of spirits ripped above you almost faster than you could see, snaking through the city like a flying cobra. Then they were gone as well.

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“That was kind of exceedingly ominous.” Prof. Theroux said, regarding the retreating wraiths for a moment. The Darkonian religious scholar seemed to be taking this all in stride, but then he had seen stranger things in his life. That being said... “While I'm not one to complain when things suddenly and inexplicably stop trying to kill me, does anyone else think we might want to get out of here before the aforementioned 'He' gets here?”

“And... ah... could someone please explain to me why, exactly, we have apparently just acquired an object that made a thousand-odd dead things extremely angry at us?” Andre said. He paused and took a breath. “I realize that our lives tend to get unpleasantly exciting at times, but... what are you doing? And do you actually have any idea how to accomplish it?”

[DocBeard]

When the river of ghosts dissipates, Tomas is left on one knee, both hands clung in a death grip to a sword slammed into the ground like an anchor carved into a broken seabed, hair whipped over his face like a wet mop. He is not breathing.

"...eeeeeeHHHHH!" Tomas wheezes after several minutes, holding his chest as it pumps up and down. He rips his gorget open, allowing his chest to rise and fall unrestricted. Well, less restricted.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"I don't even know why I'm doing what I'm doing when I'm doing it of late," Lia mutters in response to Andre's question. She runs back to Tomas and tries to help him up.

"Gauvain wants the black book," she tells Andre while hoisting on the armoured Lamordian. "Promised to restore Boucher to life, human life. Now. If something worse than Death is coming, what do we do? Run to Montmort or try to barricade or hide ourselves?"

[Kaitou Kage]

Rex and Celeste weaved and bobbed through the writhing masses and broke free as the river swirled away. The pharmacist brought his arm up to his face, covering it from the explosion.

Suddenly, Rex hissed sharply and jerked his hand back from Celeste's arm. He flexed and bent his fingers, and then he pulled out a bandage and pressed it against his palm. He looked Celeste up and down, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

"Miss," he said softly, "I believe you are unwell."

He fished out a tube of ointment and spread it on his palm, then began wrapping his hand.

"Doctor? Professors? I would appreciate your diagnosis for her. Her body temperature is significantly higher than it should be -- perhaps due to magic."

[lostboy]

but... what are you doing? And do you actually have any idea how to accomplish it?”

"Do I ever look like I know what I'm doing?" Nicolas deadpans in a slightly out of breath fashion as he follows Nerit to rejoin the others, keeping up with shadowy Nuns was hard work, especially after an impromptue performance such as that one.

"But Mlle Mourneswaithe has laid out the facts, we are the Marquis' errand boys at this juncture, a situation I am not entirely pleased with. But Id take the chance that Thierri could be returned in one breathing piece, even if it does mean running around as the Marquis' madmen."

Nicolas looks at Lia for a moment as he helps her lift Tomas to his feet, before lighting a well-earned cigarette. "I would be very interested to see who exactly this He is. Besides I'm not sure in how fit a state we all are for a jog across the city, hiding gets my vote, back to the rooftops then?"

"Doctor? Professors? I would appreciate your diagnosis for her."

"I'm no doctor but..." Nicolas shrugs looking closely at Celeste

Arcana: 15 - yep he is no doctor and nto much of a wizard either...

[Nathan of the FoS]

Merciful Ezra, praise to thee.

They're going, retreating from...Gauvain? Some other force? It's a moment's respite, at least, and Mercator won't be forced to desperate measures to get himself free of ghostly attentions.

Shaken and somewhat distracted, he hurries to Celeste's side when Rex informs the group of her state.

"Allow me, please, mademoiselle," he murmurs, taking her by the hand and, after a moment, releasing it a bit more quickly than would usually be considered polite. "Mists! Ah, your pardon, mademoiselle. You are certainly...very warm." His expression as he says this is intent and curious, but it would seem politeness prevents further questions...at least in public. "Dangerously warm. If the condition does not abate quickly I think you would be well served to bathe in the river briefly."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"No dipping her in that fetid muck, the night air would do her a mischief even if the water-borne diseases leave her alone," Lia says. As soon as Tomas is on his feet, she hurries over to study Celeste.

The Mage makes a low, puzzled noise. "Thanatos," she states. "All that heat he was putting out had to go somewhere." She eyes Celeste more closely, even leans over to look her directly in the eye.

"You are... fortunate not to have been roasted like a sausage," she continues. "The heat should dissipate naturally. Undo some fastenings to speed up the process for now; it seems we have more running to do."

Lia pauses at this and turns her eye on the men hovering nearby. "If she is going to do any loosening, boys," the Mage says in a dry tone of voice, "I trust you will do her the courtesy of turning around...?" She twirls her finger as if to illustrate her point.

(OOC: Yay for Arcana 32 and Religion 31 for the knowledge! ^^)

[Cronax]

"Hide? Retreat or camouflage are not at all necessary. The immediate threat ended the moment Mr. Lessard sounded our success, Mr. de Castigne." Agale said matter of factly.

"Gauvain wants the black book," she tells Andre while hoisting on the armoured Lamordian. "Promised to restore Boucher to life, human life.

"I'm afraid the latter is technically inaccurate, the commissioner merely agreed to maintain Mr. Boucher's state of life as it was, not to engage in any restorative activities. Besides, we've seen the implications of Death left unfulfilled as it were. I for one am not comfortable with extricating Mr. Boucher from the position until we have a firmer grasp of how to find a more satisfactory replacement. By all accounts, M. Chastel carried on quite well in the position for at least the better part of a century.

In any case, your former assertion is all too true, we must act now while we are still able. In mere moments, Gauvin will arrive, and I've no doubt he will not hesitate to take immediate custody of the book. Before that happens, we should perform as much analysis as possible. We should also attempt to transcribe a copy of the text" The last statement was spoken conspiratorially under Agale's breath. Already the Borcan's ubiquitous ledger was present in hand, ready to begin the task.

I don't suppose anyone knows the Amanuensis ritual?

[Nathan of the FoS]

Mercator raises an eyebrow at the mage's peremptory tone, but bows slightly and turns away to observe the book recovered by such spectacular efforts and its contents.

"Admirable, but I'm afraid I won't be able to help much," he confesses. "I write rather slowly."

Arcana 22, Religion 26 on book

[DocBeard]

"Vas is das?" Tomas slurs a bit, hefted to his feet like so much overcooked ham. "...aw, you were worried, weren't you?~" Tomas drunkenly pokes a finger at someone's shirt collar.

He realizes, a second later, that it is in fact Nicolas's shirt collar. "Ah, thanks." Tomas coughs, stumbling back and cracking the side of his head to make sure it is all in there. "Everyone alive?" Eisenwald calls out a bit louder, picking up on the general 'we should be running, right?' vibe and doing what he can to figure out a good direction and speed.

(29 on insight to spirit-detect which direction He is coming from and how quickly.)

[Nerit]

"We will find a replacement," Nerit said emphatically to Agale. Had she been there a moment before, standing next to Nicolas? Ah well, she must have.

It was odd. She still had most of the trappings of a monastic, but without the veil she looked more like a Darkonian lady with the traditional long hair. Apparently the tie to keep it in place had also been lost in the morbid chaos.

"There is no reason to run," she stated to the others in general and folded her hands within her sleeves. "Lessard has blown the Marquis' whistle, the ghosts have fled. Gauvain will find you whether you wish to speak with him or not."