Café de Nuit

"Perhaps you could tell us more about your mistake," Lia suggests. "If we know what happened, hear it all from your perspective, perhaps we can all understand each other a little better." All of that being said, Lia does take a step closer to Cerise, flanking her on the side not covered by the spirit wolf.

Rex wrote:"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."

"Athene eh?" Nicolas says returning from a nearby alleyway and adjusting his breeches, quite why the poet had decided now was the best time to relive himself was anyones guess. "Good so we have a lead, and perhaps a slightly more concrete one than the other two, who lets face it could be anyway in the Quarter and I'm all for lessening the odds. However Mlle Zweibach is right we should keep moving, a well armed group does not present an easy target but the people here are desperate, life is cheap and plenty feel they have nothing to lose." There was a tightness in Nicolas voice as he spoke, the poet was actually being serious with the squalid nature of the surroundings clearly affecting him.

With an angry sounding cough he blinks away what might have been tears and returns to the task in hand. "Now where to start looking..." he muses tapping the uncocked duelling pistol against his leg as he walks.

OOC: Inspire competance on streetwise on everyone for +2 bonus

Streetwise 21 changed to 33 on the reroll for inof on the whereabouts of this Athene

Rex smiled a little smile. It was hard to tell if he was smiling at Nicolas's emotion, the others' acceptance of his lead, or something else entirely. Of course, it was hard to see Rex at all. The wiry fellow blended into the surroundings without meaning to.

"She is supposed to be a revolutionary," he explained, "Perhaps that will help find her."

I could beat a 33 but it'd require a very high roll so I'll just assist Nicolas on Streetwise. I can't fail an assist, so have +2 and get a 35. For completion's sake I'll request Katja assist Nicolas, too.

Also being Stealthy. Or not. The dice really, really do not like me this game :\ Stealth of 19 for the time being. Maybe I should start trying the board dice...

2 Days, 11 Hours, 33 Minutes
Vervain Rookery, Quartier Ouvrier, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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An hour of walking and talking revealed two facts. First, that denizens of the Vervain Rookery held Athene and her fellow revolutionaries in a state somewhere between outright awe and stark terror. Two, that Athene and her friends frequented the Cafe de Montagne at this time of day.

The cafe was situated right up against the city walls, along the Rue de Croque-Mort, a delapidated two-story affair who's one sign of cleanliness was a blood-red awning over the front of the cafe. The old city walls loomed over the cafe as though threatening to collapse, casting a shadow over the building. The Cafe de Montagne, in short, looked squalid, dirty, unstable, and very, very hazardous to one's health.

Despite, or perhaps because of this, it seemed to be doing a roaring business. It hosted a rough looking crew, but not in the sense of brawlers or petty criminals. No, the patrons of the Cafe de Montagne looked like killers. They were lean, hard men and women, and you could see more than one rifle close at hand. Anywhere else in the city, these people would have dwelt in the shadows, plotting the overthrow of the Dementlieuse government and hiding away from the gendarmerie. But in the Vervain Rookery, they were petty lords of the daylight, masters of all they surveyed. Dangerous men and women, one and all.

“These are not people will welcome questions eagerly.” Katja said in her clipped northern accent as you rounded the corner at the far end of the Rue de Croque-Mort. “Do we have any other plans?”

2 Days, 11 Hours, 32 Minutes
Sewers, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Lia wrote:"Perhaps you could tell us more about your mistake," Lia suggests. "If we know what happened, hear it all from your perspective, perhaps we can all understand each other a little better." All of that being said, Lia does take a step closer to Cerise, flanking her on the side not covered by the spirit wolf.

“Why? So you can sit in judgement? I know you. Always standing there, self-righteous and maddening. No one cares that I made a mistake...” The young man hissed, then his expression changed, quite suddenly. His face was drawn, his manner pensive. “I didn't mean it, you know. I didn't think she'd struggle. But... people are fragile. I didn't know that. It never occurred to me. It was just a little shake. I didn't think it would... people are fragile.”

Tomas wrote:"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."

“The Market? Has it changed? Maybe it's changed. But it never changes.” The young man whispered, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you were there. Then he looked up at you, large eyes narrowed into a lunatic's idea of cunning. “I know where the Midnight Market is. I've visited it, under the dark light of the new moon. I could tell you where it is.”

“But you need a guide.” The young man said with a devilish little smile, lips pressed tightly together. “Someone who can see it. Someone who can find it.”

“I could be the guide.” The young man said, then paused. “Just let me go.”

"You must think." Tomas begins, handing the bag of food to Kerrian, pulling a strange broken looking pendant out of his shirt, and abruptly stepping into the muck. "I am very stupid. You have even put your act aside."

With vicious speed, Tomas grabs the man's wrist while holding the amulet in front of him. Eisenwald quietly searches for a pulse, before continuing, "I'd love to know how you accidentally snapped someone's neck, by the way."

"A word will suffice, Professor Marchand-Renier," Mercator says, bowing slightly. "I believe I have the honor of addressing the translator of Epikassis' monograph comparing declensions in Sithican and Darkonese elvish? A significant work; I found your commentary highly enlightening. I am Doctor Mercator Melanchthon, your servant." A deeper bow, this time. "We are seeking a place known as the Midnight Market, Professor; if you have heard of it?..."

Kerrian's response to Tomas' actions was a momentary pause of puzzlement, and then questions. "First, what are you? We've got enough threats loose in the city we don't need one more. Secondly, who chained you down here?" Kerrian was pretty sure he knew, but getting confirmation was a good thing.

Also, having a spiritual hound move up to stand near Tomas was probably not a bad thing either.

OOC:OOC:spirit hound to Tomas, behind him if possible but still adjacent, +1 to all non AC defenses.

2 Days, 11 Hours, 59 Minutes
University of Dementlieu, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Mercator wrote:"We are seeking a place known as the Midnight Market, Professor; if you have heard of it?..."

"An honor to meet you," Professor Marchand-Renier murmured, returning the pleasantries without much luster. He seemed to have little enough issue with the man, but plenty with the message. The professor suddenly looked even more exhausted. "Back in the thick of it again, my boy?" he sighed, rubbing the circles under his eyes. "I told Theroux these things were infectious. Once this sort of madness gets a taste of you, it never lets go."

Lessard didn't respond.

"Yes," Marchand-Renier admitted solemnly, in answer to the question. "Yes, I have heard of it. I'm not even going to ask why you want to go there." He shook his head. "I've never been myself, for worse or for better. I've always been a paperwork man, the rest of the family are the ones for footwork. Assuming you're willing to risk Bertram and Bertriz, I'll summon them when I can. They are all rather busy of late, but they should be able to tell you if they know anything more of it."

2 Days, 11 Hours, 32 Minutes
Sewers, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Tomas wrote:With vicious speed, Tomas grabs the man's wrist while holding the amulet in front of him. Eisenwald quietly searches for a pulse, before continuing, "I'd love to know how you accidentally snapped someone's neck, by the way."

The reaction, to say the least, was dramatic. The young man flinched away from the holy symbol and bared his teeth, hissing like a cat as he did so. His jaws now open, Tomas caught a glimpse of fangs, two inches long easily, growing like needles from the young man's mouth.

He didn't fight the Lamordian, however, but let his pulse be sought for without more than a sullen look of loathing. Tomas didn't find one. His search was interrupted however, when quick as a snake, the young man launched himself forward and bit into Tomas's shoulder. Those fangs were quite real.

20 Necrotic Damage and Tomas is Weakened (Save Ends), make a save at the end of each of your posts.

Prof. Marchand-Renier wrote:"Yes," Marchand-Renier admitted solemnly, in answer to the question. "Yes, I have heard of it. I'm not even going to ask why you want to go there." He shook his head. "I've never been myself, for worse or for better. I've always been a paperwork man, the rest of the family are the ones for footwork. Assuming you're willing to risk Bertram and Bertriz, I'll summon them when I can. They are all rather busy of late, but they should be able to tell you if they know anything more of it."

"Capital, my dear Professor--oh, simply capital!" This followed a typically effusive string of greetings, of course. It was entirely possible that Celeste was more enthusiastic when confronted with someone of particularly grave disposition, perhaps in vain hope that she could lead by example.

"Simply unburden yourself to us as to how they may best be found, and we may be on our way. Oh, how helpful, sir! Unless--" Celeste caught herself mid-thought. "Unless you yourself possess some manner of anecdotal intelligence, the which they may not? Oh, far be it from me to presume, Prof. Marchand-Renier!"

Tomas's eyes widen in surprise as the thing makes its move. He was honestly expecting the smell of the excuse Tomas has for blood would scare off the monster; it is a bit of a shock that he is apparently human enough to be considered food.

Also getting savaged in the neck and having brackish green-black laced blood splatter all over your shirt, your armor, and the guy biting you is something of an inconvenience. So much for keeping secrets. "Aaaah!" Tomas exclaims, followed by some words that cannot be written without violating several decency laws. "-vampyr!" There's a clean one.

Eisenwald's leg comes up, he leans his weight against the starving monster, uses his thumb to unbuckle Ivorsen, and SHOVES; Tomas falls backwards, his sword whips out to slash at the vampire's face, and Eisenwald is given the benefit of a little space and a gleaming reminder of why that was really kind of a terrible idea.

"I am not." Tomas bleeds, trying not to feel ashamed as his monsterousness drips down his neck. A normal human would be gushing blood by now. "Your enemy. But understand this, if nothing else." Tomas's blue eyes flash with horrible sincerity, "If you try that again I promise I will be your personal escort to whatever hell you've been avoiding in this filth!"

(Crunch;
Minor Action: Draw Sword.
Standard Action: Virtuous Strike; 31 vs AC hits, 2+6/2: 4 radiant damage.
Move: Shift one square back so as to get out of melee range.
Saving Throw: 10+2: 12.)

"Nimbus atrox!" Lia hisses, venom in her voice. Spinniing blades of force whirl themselves out of thin air above the vampire, slicing the fetid stench of the sewer and just barely grazing the creature's hair. "You try that again, you undead cur," she growls, "and you had better pray the White Knight gets to you before I do.

Now. Since you do not want the sandwiches" -- Lia's voice practically curdles with sarcasm -- "I suppose we could get you a nice, fat rat for your information. How about it, vampire? Or perhaps a fat piglet?"

Katja wrote:“These are not people will welcome questions eagerly.” Katja said in her clipped northern accent as you rounded the corner at the far end of the Rue de Croque-Mort. “Do we have any other plans?”

Nicolas had been looking distractedly at the cafe, rubbing the muzzle of the pistol against his cheek in thought as Katja spoke. Then his eyes light up mischievously in a not entirely comforting manner. " A plan ma chere? Not just any plan, why I do believe I have a cunning plan of such audacity that it is sure to work."

Nicolas flashes a rather disconcerting smile as he draws them back out of sight of the bar. "perhaps they will not be inclined to welcome us, or answer our questions, but perhaps they would be more forthcoming with someone of a more idealistic bent? Someone like say our friend Monsieur Benoit? Why as a fugutive I would wager most of them would'nt know him from any other butcher, baker, candlestick maker... or poet."

"Yes I am serious" he continues before anyone can object. "We act like we have never acted before, with bluff and front we could get the information we need within moments, but I do think we need some inside information before we go full steam ahead and .....ahem to perhaps blend in a little more." His gaze lingers on Nerit as he speaks.

"If he tries it again, isn't it worse to just leave him here, starving and alone?" Kerrian asked, spirit hound moving with Tomas to keep near him, but hopefully not hinder. "You can tell us what we need to know and be treated like a human being, or keep seeing us as meals with legs, and get treated like a monster. It isn't that hard a choice really.."

OOC:moving Spirit companion, keeping it adjacent to and behind Tomas, for +1 to all non AC defenses

2 Days, 11 Hours, 27 Minutes
Vervain Rookery, Quartier Ouvrier, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Nicolas wrote:"Yes I am serious" he continues before anyone can object.

"You are joking," Katja said flatly, in defiance of what Nicolas had just said. "This is a joke. This... this is not a plan!" she exclaimed. "And you are not a soldier! You are a soft, drunken, slovenly, Dementlieuse... fop!" She snapped her mouth shut instantly, having spoken far too freely. She continued staring, however, rendered completely speechless by the sheer audacity of the man before her.

Then she carefully put her sword away, pulled open her greatcoat, and pulled an axe from her belt loop. Fortunately, she did not then proceed to hit Nicolas with the axe, instead shoving it into his hands.

"Take this. Even I know Benoit wields an axe," she said brusquely in her clipped tones. In return, she took away his silver flask. "No more whiskey. They'll smell it on your breath." The woman unscrewed the top of the flask and knocked it back heavily, before screwing the top back on and continuing. "None of your... showing off. If you look like you have something to prove they will make you prove it. You've met him, act like him!"

She paused, eying him up and down for a moment. "Try to look older than you are," she added dryly.

Katja begrudgingly aids another on Bluff for a +2 to Nicolas.

2 Days, 11 Hours, 53 Minutes
University of Dementlieu, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Celeste wrote:"Simply unburden yourself to us as to how they may best be found, and we may be on our way.  Oh, how helpful, sir!  Unless--"  Celeste caught herself mid-thought.  "Unless you yourself possess some manner of anecdotal intelligence, the which they may not?  Oh, far be it from me to presume, Prof. Marchand-Renier!"

"I'm afraid I know little that would be helpful, my dear, just that it is less than hospitable to people like you or myself," Sebastain sighed.

"Bertram and Bertriz are currently off being Bertram and Bertriz, which means I neither know nor wish to know where they are at this point in time. The more sensible members of the family are, unfortunately, also out with business at the moment. Don't worry, I'll round them all up when they show up for lunch. Christophe, at least, wouldn't miss a meal even if he was dead," Marchand-Renier replied, with perhaps a hint of a smile. "If they know anything useful, I'll send them to your house at around three o' clock. A terrible evil on my part, I realize, but desperate times. Make sure you hide anything nice, or they'll never leave."

"Seems we'll have some time until then," Lessard commented.

2 Days, 11 Hours, 27 Minutes
Sewers, Port-a-Lucine, Mid-Morning on April 22nd, 770
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Tomas wrote:"If you try that again I promise I will be your personal escort to whatever hell you've been avoiding in this filth!"

Lia wrote:"I suppose we could get you a nice, fat rat for your information. How about it, vampire? Or perhaps a fat piglet?"

Kerrian wrote:"If he tries it again, isn't it worse to just leave him here, starving and alone?" Kerrian asked, spirit hound moving with Tomas to keep near him, but hopefully not hinder."

“LIAR! You... know... NOTHING! You're taunting me... stop TAUNTING me! It was an accident... it was just an accident... Please don't leave me. You're going to leave me down here all alone... You're just like him. HE SENT YOU. Always taunting me, promises, promises of release, promises it will be over if I'm just SORRY enough. I SAID I WAS SORRY!” The pale young man screamed, his fangs glittering in the torchlight. He took a step forward, the chain clattering behind him. He could not move very far, admittedly, but the length of iron was long enough to reach the Lamordian. The young man raised a hand, and you could see his fingers lengthening, nails turning into gleaming black claws. “You... You promised... You PROMISED you'd end it... STOP TAUNTING ME DAMN YOU!”

He was weakened from long starvation, but the young man still moved fast as a snake, lunging at Tomas and slashing his claws down the side of his face. The young man scrabbled wildly at the end of his chain, but made no move to guard himself from the coming blow.

“You.. promised... you... LIAR! You won't leave me... I WON'T LET YOU LEAVE ME!” The young man thrashed his head aside, and one could see tears of green-black blood flowing from his face. “Gods... I'm so sorry... so sorry... make it stop... please make it stop... I'LL MAKE YOU END IT!”

31 to hit AC, 12 damage to Tomas

"Ooh, reminds me of the patients in the violent ward. The really violent ward. Here, let me deal with him, Kerry, I work down there sometimes," Cerise said with a bit of a wink. "You have to be firm with them or they'll walk all over you."

Stop it, hurting M. Eisenwald won't make you feel better." Cerise commanded the vampire, with a voice like a stern mother. The young man jerked violently, falling forward to smash knee first onto the ground, and then knelt there stock still. His teeth were pulled back into a rictus grimace, and he stared forward blankly, ichor still streaming down his face.

"Are you feeling calmer now?" Cerise asked cheerfully. "You should probably move back anyway, M. Eisenwald, just in case he gets violent again."

"Lia, no, we need-" Oh she was shooting around him. Tomas is distracted enough that he gets slashed in the face. A seem splits and a bolt is ripped out of place; Tomas's jaw snaps down unnaturally. Eisenwald tries and fails to catch the bolt, and sort of stands there for a moment, his eyes wild with barely restrained fury, the air full of the smell of stagnant force waiting to be brought to bare.

Even as Cerise's voice brings him out of the killing fury, Eisenwald pulls a cloth up from under his shirt, like he was wandering in the desert. A number of questions are on Tomas's mind, but he's got to focus here. He sheaths his sword and steps backwards until he's back on dry land.

A grateful and terrified look is sent at Cerise. "How did you-" Why are you not flipping out. "-no, we don't have much time. This is the closest we've gotten to the thing listening to us. Keep going. See if you can get it to talk. I've got something to see hidden passages if we can find out where it is supposed to be."

Tomas turn turns to Kerrian; he was afraid of this moment. "I know this looks...unnatural. And I promise I'll explain, but not right now." He checks where the cat sized rats were, half expecting a welcoming party already.

(Moving out of the vampire's reach.)