Café de Nuit

Nerit vaguely wondered if the others were afraid of the street urchins and gangs. She herself hadn't a solar, crescent or bit on her, or at least she didn't look like it. That wasn't to say that there weren't those who had other motivations for accosting people, however.

She smiled like the cheery nun she was and pulled a knife from within her sleeves.

"Well, then, Frau...now what?"

"If I may."

How long had Rex been standing there? The short Mordentish fellow bowed stepped out from around the nearby corner and bowed his head a little. The pharmacist showed no real signs of fear, save that his eyes darted to and fro like a nervous lizard and the fingers on one of his hands slowly flexed and relaxed over and over again. He carried no visible weapons, though someone canny might spot a brief glint of metal up his sleeve when he turned his arm just so.

"I do not know what you hope to find here," he said, "But if you believe it is worth a look, I will oblige. After we are done with this building, I have a lead that should be found somewhere in this area."

The pharmacist paused and stared up at the tenement before them.

"Shall we proceed?" he asked softly.

Stealth 24

2 Days, 12 Hours, 23 Minutes
University of Dementlieu, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Agale wrote:"It seems details travel fast in this quarter. Do not leave us in suspense, what scheme have you devised?"

Celeste wrote:"Oh, happy disclosure!" Celeste leaned in. "Do enlighten us as to your theory, Professor--and anything that we may do to assist you in its execution!"

“Bear in mind this is still in the planning stages, but the theory seems sound.” Prof. Theroux said, glancing around for a moment to check that no one was within listening range. “The idea is to create a ritual container with all the proper thaumaturgical sigils, so that when the wraiths get separated, instead of flying off in every which direction and causing a small scale reproduction of a Dead Travel Fast novel, they get sucked into the container.”

“Can you make that kind of container?” Lessard said, raising one pale brow.

“I've got someone making a rosewood chest that ought to do the trick, though I'll need to carve the runes myself.” Andre said. “I'll try and get it to you as quick as physically possible, though I'll need to wait for a time M. Cadaver is not around.”

“Very well. Do you know where Professor M is?” Remy paused, then after a moment added. “Or failing that, Professors Lemercier and Petrik?”

“Sebastian should be in the administrative building preparing to commit fraud in order to get appropriations for his department.” Andre said after a moment's thought. “If you trust them, Lemercier is in the Arcane Sciences building teaching a class, he should be finishing soon, and I think Petrik is in the conservatory.”

2 Days, 12 Hours, 20 Minutes
Vervain Rookery, Quartier Ouvrier, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Rex wrote:"I do not know what you hope to find here," he said, "But if you believe it is worth a look, I will oblige. After we are done with this building, I have a lead that should be found somewhere in this area."

"We have already finished with the building while you were elsewhere," Katja replied in her clipped, efficient tones. "There is nothing here. Either we keep trying to find the yellow-cloaked woman, search for the child Reine, or you explain your lead to us."

There was a screaming domestic argument from a couple somewhere upstairs, culminating in a crash as something was thrown at the window.

"Keep moving while you do so," Katja commanded, already walking down the street.

2 Days, 11 Hours, 49 Minutes
Sewers, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Tomas wrote:"Keep an eye out for big rats." Tomas recommends vaguely, a worried crease in his brow as he leads the way down.

You met rats. In and of itself, it would have been surprising had you not met rats, for they bred by the hundred-thousand in the sewers and tunnels beneath Port-a-Lucine. Here, in the waste of a million people, they dwelled in their nests and warrens. Small creatures, with grey or brown fur and beady black eyes, they scurried away from your approach. At times, large rats paced you, creatures with black fur the size of cats, who watched you as you passed.

"...sleep... damn him... so sorry..." Soon enough, Tomas's guidance led you into the deeper parts of the sewers, unused tunnels where most men rarely ventured. You could hear cries in the distance, human cries that slowly resolved themselves into words. "Damn him... didn't mean it.... the hunger.... sleep..."

You came to a cul-de-sac in the sewers, some dead-end of a passage that was built for no discernible purpose and by no discernible architect. A wide passageway led you into a round chamber, consisting of a walkway along the outer edge, a pool of dirty water which poured from a pipe at the far end, and in the center, a brick island perhaps a dozen paces across.

There was someone on the island. He was... well, probably a he, a young man of about twenty, dressed in a black evening suit that had seen much better days. A thick, wrought iron chain was attached to a ring in the center of the island, the other end terminating in a collar around the man's neck. He lay on the brick floor, sobbing and crying.

“You.. you came back.” A pale face, somewhat effeminate despite the grime, looked up at you. Large, light-blue eyes stared out at you. “You came back!”

There was a certain sort of world weary cynicism that entered into a person's system as they got involved in a potential battle to save the literal soul of a country. It was very likely thanks to this and only this that Kerrian didn't go running to the young man chained up, instead looking to Tomas for an explanation, preferably somewhere within the vicinity of now, and then back to the figure on the island, trying to discern if it was a real cry for help...or a predator trying to lure in prey.

OOC:18 perception, 30 insight

Mr. Agale was amazed that such a device was even feasible. Best to leave the technicalities in the hands of the academics.

"Intriguing, if it can be made to work." The lawyer mused. "In any case, I wish you well in the construction and promise to employ the artifice in question to the best of our capacity. Though I wonder, once the spirits have been contained, what then? Is there a plan of disposal?"

"We should call upon Professor Marchand-Renier next I think. If anyone in this city has the information we seek, it will be him and his relations."

The nun acknowledged Rex's appearance with a simple, "Ah, there you are."

Presently, Nerit was at pace with Katja, but she spoke back to the slinky pharmacist. "I believe you should lead the way, Mister Prescott, so sally forth."

Lia's eyes seem to go out of focus when she looks at the prisoner. Then she grimaces behind the shawl and veil covering her face.

"I see that you have been here for a long time, monsieur," she says out loud. "Thirty to fourty years...? And you have been trapped down here, kept alive as well as trapped by that chain. Alive and awake for all of that time. Down here."

The Mage grimaces again; the light from her staff dims, then brightens once more. "I can only imagine that someone must have been very angry with you."

(OOC: The results of successful rolls in Arcana and History: the prisoner's clothes are thirty to fourty years out of date, and the magic chain is keeping him alive and awake in the middle of the sewers. Yeah, he ticked someone off badly.)

Tomas holds his hand up behind him, motioning for the others to hold back. "I wasn't kidding about the rats. If the big ones start gathering in numbers, tell me right away."

"Hello." Eisenwald says, softly. "Yes, I returned. I would have been back sooner but time flies when you are infected with a magical plague."

"How are you?" Tomas asks, "I have brought you some food, if you will take it this time."

"Mm," Rex murmured, "I do not know a specific location. Only a name and a general area. I have heard a woman named Athene knows something about it and can be found in this part of the Quarter."

M. Agale wrote:"We should call upon Professor Marchand-Renier next I think. If anyone in this city has the information we seek, it will be him and his relations."

"A sensible proposal as always, M. Agale! Why, I was about to suggest the very thing."

Celeste nodded gratefully at Andre. "And thank you for your continued efforts, Professor Theroux! My meagre arcane talents notwithstanding, please inform me if I may assist you in any capacity--financial or otherwise. I assure you, I am quite as committed to the supernatural preservation of our fair nation as the rest of our band!"

2 Days, 11 Hours, 40 Minutes
Sewers, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Lia wrote:"I see that you have been here for a long time, monsieur," she says out loud. "Thirty to fourty years...? And you have been trapped down here, kept alive as well as trapped by that chain. Alive and awake for all of that time. Down here."

“Has it? Has it been so long?” The young man said, pulling himself to his hands and feet. He looked at you with wide eyes, then suddenly clutched his head. He was crying. “So long... so long... never meant it... never wanted it... I was so sorry... so long, so long... felt longer, or shorter, can't tell any more.”

Lia wrote:The Mage grimaces again; the light from her staff dims, then brightens once more. "I can only imagine that someone must have been very angry with you."

“He screamed. He never screamed... always calm, always cold, no blood in him.” The young man whispered, a faint tremor in his voice. “I'm so sorry. You'll tell him that. Tell him I'm sorry... so sorry... it was an ACCIDENT!”

The last, shouted word echoed through the sewers.

Tomas wrote:"How are you?" Tomas asks, "I have brought you some food, if you will take it this time."

“You have? You have! I am so hungry... so tired but so hungry...” The young man trembled, rising unsteadily to his feet. The chain was short, and he had to stand right next to where the chain attached to a ring in the middle of the brick island. “You are a saint, a saint... quick, give her to me!”

“Who, me?” Cerise said, tilting her head to peer at the young man on the island.

Kerrian shot Tomas a look. It was one of those looks that speak volumes. That Kerrian's spirit wolf manifested at Cerise' side also spoke volumes. Not necessarily that he believed that Tomas would actually DO as the man on the island suggested but this situation went from one of pity for the prisoner, to potential hostility.

"Sorry for what?" Kerrian asked, his hound more focused on the island's inhabitant than Tomas at the moment.

OOC:Minor to summon spirit hound adjacent to Cerise, giving her +1 to all non AC defenses.

"Blood, huh." Tomas says, thinking of Gauvain. And then he gets the implication.

The patience bleeds out of Tomas like water sweating through the skin.

"I...meant these sandwiches." Tomas holds up a bag. "Cerise is a person and not edible in civilized society. I have a few questions for you, because I think you might know something. I will feed you if you answer our questions. That way, you will know I am not tricking you, like you thought I did last time. Okay?"

2 Days, 12 Hours, 10 Minutes
University of Dementlieu, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Agale wrote:"Though I wonder, once the spirits have been contained, what then? Is there a plan of disposal?"

"That's a good question, and unfortunately one I'm not currently qualified to answer. Hopefully we can deal with them later... specifically, when the spirits are safely trapped in the box and not trying to kill us," Andre replied.

"Here's hoping," Remy grimy agreed. "We should get back to ensuring the spirits are separated and can be sealed away in the first place.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You found Professor Marchand-Renier in one of the thin, identical hallways of the Administration Building. The Linguistics Chair looked as sharp and sleek as he ever did, his usual black suit pressed and spotless. He was carrying a large, black folder of documents under one arm, and currently looked like he was preparing to commit murder. The lines around his face were exceptionally stark, and his hair seemed ot have more grey than what you last recalled.

Lessard's presence, at the very least, stopped him from brushing past without giving so much as the time of day. "My boy..." He paused, adjusting wire rimmed glasses around dark circled eyes. "You never skipped a day of class as a student."

"I suppose I've changed since then," Remy said, with something akin to regret.

2 Days, 11 Hours, 49 Minutes
Sewers, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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DocBeard wrote:"I...meant these sandwiches." Tomas holds up a bag. "Cerise is a person and not edible in civilized society. I have a few questions for you, because I think you might know something. I will feed you if you answer our questions. That way, you will know I am not tricking you, like you thought I did last time. Okay?"

“Sandwiches.” The young man said the word as though it was a vile and unmentionable disease. He sat down on the brick island, hugging his knees to himself. “Sandwiches... You're taunting me. You're lying. You're just here to point and laugh... laugh at the madman... laugh at the man who made a mistake. You've never made a mistake? You're PERFECT!”

The maddened scream echoed off the walls, staying in the air for a second. The young man rested his head on his knees, glaring out at you with a kind of sullen stare. He was a rather pretty young man, as a matter of fact, a little pale, a little dirty, but in better times he must have been a very handsome man.

“You're just like him. He never made a single mistake in his life. Pompous, arrogant, conceited old goat. Never stopped talking. Justice. Service.” The young man paused, tossing you a close-lipped smile. “Want to know a secret? HE WAS LYING. I made a mistake, that's all, but did he forgive? No he didn't, no, lectured me... chained me here... chained me here forever. Forever and ever. Foreverandeverandeverandeverandeverandever... And now I'm so hungry... and so tired... and you're taunting me with SANDWICHES!”

Tomas rubs his forehead, resisting the urge to groan. More screaming.

"Look." Tomas takes another step forward, "I'm not perfect. I've never been perfect. And I'd NEVER play games with an innocent person's life! How could you even consider..."

"I came here in good faith." Tomas continues, "Do you not eat normal food? Is there something I can give you that isn't reprehensible? All I want to do is find this stupid midnight market so I can save Thierri from this stupid ghost curse so I can..."

Tomas lets a breath out. "Look, can you please try and focus? If you are straight with me, I promise, I will be straight with you."