Café de Nuit

Tomas's eyes narrow and his lips thin; he thinks he has some idea of what the other theory is, and the reason Charles is here in the first place. But this isn't like Vedarak; Tomas doesn't know this man, and has no idea how he'll react to a face full of the truth. Vedarak's safer on the defensive, who knows about this guy?

So instead he says, "That's pretty vague, libschen. I mean, I am no magister-thank you, Celeste, but I am being fine, ja?-but can't a lot of different things be 'necromantic'?"

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

Lia wrote:"What in the name of Ezra's chilly petticoats do you mean, the liquid-to-ground-glass trick is not magic? What are you basing this theory on? I detected a necromantic aura myself!"

Tomas wrote:So instead he says, "That's pretty vague, libschen. I mean, I am no magister-thank you, Celeste, but I am being fine, ja?-but can't a lot of different things be 'necromantic'?"

Alice arched her eyebrows at the oath; Richard looked like he wanted a nice, hot, cup of tea, so he could spit it out in humorous fashion. The gendarme to the left of Devereux tilted his head, in a form of acknowledgment to Eisenwald's point, before adding, "As we said, we do not fully understand the phenomenon. If your compatriots have no further insight into the matter, then there is nothing more we have to discuss."

Lia wrote:"When did he go missing?" Lia immediately asks. "Where was he last seen, and in what kind of company?

The gendarme to the right of Devereux pulled out a small notebook, flipping through the pages with practiced ease. "Once Captain Cedolin was sufficiently recovered from the attack, he departed for Ste. Mere des Larmes Cathedral, to meet with the citizens he had enlisted to aid his investigation." The gendarme paused, and looked up from the notes. "You," he clarified, unnecessarily. "After the meeting, he rendezvoused with six other gendarme at the cathedral, to continue his investigation as he saw fit. He reported that a number of your group was investigating the University museum, since the gendarme is currently incapable without causing incident. The rest of you were to be investigating bookstores, starting with Mark's in the dock area. He was supposed to check in via Sending every hour. The next hour, he did not check in, nor did he respond to our multiple attempts to Send to him, or any of the gendarme with him. We were unable to find any trace of him, or anyone able to verify sighting him. We did not receive any reports of trouble or strange sightings in the district."

The gendarme snapped the book shut, stowing it back away in his pocket. "Under the circumstances, we are assuming he is either incapacitated and unconscious or dead," he said, simply.

"How does the Sending magic work?" Cyrus asked sharply, "Can its message reach other planes?"

Images of the hanged priest in the mirror flooded the dommer's mind. If all the disappearances were linked to that sort of sorcery, it may not be possible to contact the missing.

And how long before someone tried to accost them for stepping too close to the truth? Though in reality, Cyrus welcomed that moment. It would be a perfect opportunity to see who and what he was dealing with.

A part of him wondered why the rebels were resorting to this sort of trickery. Another part of him suspected this had nothing to do with the rebels at all.

"...of course." Tomas scowls, "I thought back up would...he's become the next target." Eisenwald scowls, closing his hands into fists; for a moment, it seems like the bear of a man is contemplating punching a hole in the building, but a sudden turn of his body seems to be enough violence to sooth his nerves.

Wait, no it isn't.

"Verdamnit los!" Tomas snaps, smashing his fists into an innocent coffee table that is quickly transmutated(In an able demonstration of Tenser's theory of subdermal locomotive alteration.) into a pile of worthless kindling.

Breathing hard, Tomas glowers at the pile of splinters as though trying to set it on fire with his mind. This, inconveniently, gives people a moment to respond if they're the sort to do so.

M. De Castaigne wrote:"Really mademouselle I cannot ask you to sully your fair hands with such a task, if you but allow me I shall clean it myself." He releases her wrist and holds his hand out for the handkerchief. As it is passed over he steps forward and whispers softly for only Celeste to hear "Seek me out later, there is something of import I must tell you."

"As you will, Sir!" Celeste nodded brightly, by all appearances in response to the first statement as opposed to the whispered one. Mlle. Viardot may have needlessly effusive, but she clearly had enough social grace to be discreet when the circumstances demanded.

M. Eisenwald wrote:"Verdamnit los!" Tomas snaps, smashing his fists into an innocent coffee table that is quickly transmutated(In an able demonstration of Tenser's theory of subdermal locomotive alteration.) into a pile of worthless kindling.

Celeste, appropriately, yelped a little, though she quickly regained her composure--indeed, she seemed more than a little impressed by the display. It took her a few additional seconds to work up a response:

"...M. Eisenwald, while I ordinarily take exception to harsh language--and the destruction of innocent furniture!...Oh, in this instance, I declare it to be entirely warranted! I daresay that, were I myself in possession of an Adventurer's capacious strength, I should gladly demolish an armoire, at the very least! Brave Captain Cedolin, oh, noble Cedolin..."

She cast a rather pleading look at the investigator-in-charge, lacking some more decisive focal point for her attentions. "Oh, Commissioner Gauvain, do say that you shall allow our humble band to continue providing assistance to the gendarmerie, at least on this matter! We are so very invested in the present Mystery of the disappearing Wardens...and this latest development must only bind our resolve more closely to the case!"

"Tomas!" Nerit reprimanded like a school teacher (she could have looked the part) and glided toward the Lamordian. She put one hand on his surely impressive bicep and another on his forearm. "Tomas, if you please, you should not be so surprised! He was already a target. That is how we first learned of this vile transmutation."

(I'd so roll Diplomacy on Tomas for his GERMAN RAGE JA?, but I'll trust in Doc ;D)

"It...could be a spirit doing it." Kerrian offered, sounding rather like he didn't like the idea much. "It's what the start of everything felt like. And one..or at least something close to one attacked me earlier. Why they would be doing this though...I don't know." Kerrian frowned. "There were stories about people who tried to make pact with spirits akin to the wolf god...but.." He shook his head "I barely understand what I work with sometimes."

Nicholas face darkens at the news and he drags slowly on the cigarette. The poet normally didnt have much time for the establishment, but the demise of one such as Cedolin, who actually gave a rats arse about right and wrong rather than just following orders was distinctly unwelcome. Although he would have dearly liked to shred furniture in an Eisenwald fashion, he confides himself to tightening his knuckles on his cane and watching the Gendarmes carefully.

"And this is the reason you are here? To enlist our help in finding the Captain, or are we merely being treated as suspects?" He asks through slightly gritted teeth, looking from the Gendarmes to Devereux.

Mr. Agale's concentration suffered only a momentary interruption as Mr. Eisenwald chewed the scenery. He steepled his fingers while the Commissioner recounted events. "If a purposeful force capable of causing the incidents we witnessed is not deemed the result of 'magic' in a technical sense, then it seems to me the distinction is entirely academic."

"Something does not add up. While the captain struck me as no slouch when it came to his duties, neither did he appear the pinnacle of deductive acumen. If the goal of the party or parties responsible is to stifle further investigation, why limit its attempts at murder to the Cedolin and Latour? At both instances, one of us Chateau residents could just as easily have been targeted, but were not."

"Does this mean we are retained in an official capacity, monseigneur?" he asks politely.

"The Dommer brings up a critical point." Agale added, "While our sense of civic duty is considerable, none of our number can be considered policemen. If the altercation with Latour is any indication, a deputizing writ will be necessary if we are to continue helping the state in this matter. On that topic, before his demise, Latour's inebriated musings implied some questionable goings on onboard the Darkonian vessel Acheron by an individual named 'Bertin'."

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

Tomas wrote:"Verdamnit los!" Tomas snaps, smashing his fists into an innocent coffee table that is quickly transmutated(In an able demonstration of Tenser's theory of subdermal locomotive alteration.) into a pile of worthless kindling.

The destruction of the chateau's furniture didn't seem to rate much more than a few moments of the gendarme's attention, though the Marquis' eyes lingered on Tomas for longer than was comfortable. Thierri gave Eisenwald an unreadable look, then went off to find a dustbin. Devereux himself didn't seem terribly bothered by the wreckage, although he did duck his head slightly at the noise.

"Er... for future reference, Tomas, the... tables in the foyer are... antiques," Charles piped up, mildly.

Cyrus wrote:"How does the Sending magic work?" Cyrus asked sharply, "Can its message reach other planes?"

"It cannot," the Marquis replied. Any further explanation would have taken magical training to understand, and M. Gauvain did not appear to be an explanatory type.

Celeste wrote:"Oh, Commissioner Gauvain, do say that you shall allow our humble band to continue providing assistance to the gendarmerie, at least on this matter! We are so very invested in the present Mystery of the disappearing Wardens...and this latest development must only bind our resolve more closely to the case!"

Nicolas wrote:"And this is the reason you are here? To enlist our help in finding the Captain, or are we merely being treated as suspects?" He asks through slightly gritted teeth, looking from the Gendarmes to Devereux.

M. Gauvain regarded Celeste for a moment, running his fingers across the metal rib-tips of his umbrella. "As you wish," he said.

"We do not expect to be able to retrieve Captain Cedolin. Since he did not report in as scheduled, we remain unaware of anything you may have discovered in your investigation," the gendarme to the right of Devereux said, stiffly. "Despite your suspicious behavior and base nature, we have no intention of returning you to Montmort for the present, M. de Castaigne. You will, of course, be compensated for your efforts."

There was a particular inflection on "for the present" that made it clear this could change very rapidly.

Mr. Agale wrote:"The Dommer brings up a critical point." Agale added, "While our sense of civic duty is considerable, none of our number can be considered policemen. If the altercation with Latour is any indication, a deputizing writ will be necessary if we are to continue helping the state in this matter. On that topic, before his demise, Latour's inebriated musings implied some questionable goings on onboard the Darkonian vessel Acheron by an individual named 'Bertin'."

"Will it be? Had you simply explained the matter to the gendarme instead of running from them, the situation would have been sorted out much faster," the gendarme to the right of Devereux said. Devereux himself was polite enough not to look horrendously skeptical of that statement.

At mention of the Acheron, the Marquis made a slight gesture to the gendarme to the left of Devereux. The gendarme removed himself from harassing Devereux and moved to one of the dining room chairs, scribbling a message on a strip of paper. After a moment, he put a match to the paper, then sat back to wait. All three men sat wordlessly, apparently unbothered by the awkward silence. Eventually, the gendarme at the table said, "It seems the Acheron is still in port. We believe it to have been chartered by the University to carry some cargo of import."

"You should be informed that, due to the University's defiance of government authority, the government is no longer considering any University holdings or property to be protected under government law," the other gendarme said. "As for the Acheron, we will issue papers granting you permission to enter and search the vessel. If you require any further permissions to search, seek us out at the Hall of Justice. As you are already aware, however, the University will not react well to a government sanctioned investigation. Please be cautious."

M. Gauvain reached inside his coat, producing a folded document that had been tied with a string, a red wax seal visible even through the parchment. He held it out to you, running his fingertips across the surface of it, a cold-blooded look on his sallow face. "The Council does not want a war," he said, a definite threat running through the undercurrent of his voice. "Do not displease them."

Darius frowns slightly as he thinks through the situation. "The ship...the one the murdered man served on...it was chartered by the University to carry 'cargo of import'?" He throws a glance at Lia. "Perhaps this is where we might find the exhibits which are to be shipped to the Black Academy...if so, members of the Hazlani embassy," he gestures to indicate his brother and himself, "might plausibly request to review the shipped items, yes? In company with members of the University faculty. It is perhaps a bit of a dangerous game, as our examination will certainly be reported to the pertinent University officials, but given the unsettled state of the Museum curacy I am sure that there are any number of plausible questions that might be raised as to what exactly is to be shipped. It may also be possible to get the ambassador's blessing for our errand..."

Tomas breathes through his nose for a few seconds, not daring to make any more sudden movements for fear of accidentally hurting Sister Nerit.

"Er... for future reference, Tomas, the... tables in the foyer are... antiques," Charles piped up, mildly.

"I'm...sorry, Charles." After having a second to calm down, Tomas looks a little sheepish. "I'll pay for it, of course."

He gives Nerit a grateful glance, and then turns back to listen.

Lia does not respond to Darius' look or any of the things that have been said since she asked her question. Rather, she seems lost in thought, studying the grain of her staff as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world ...

Commissioner Gauvain wrote:”The Council does not want a war," he said, a definite threat running through the undercurrent of his voice. "Do not displease them."

Seeing as nobody else seemed to be, Celeste moved the couple of steps toward the Commissioner, and accepted the document with a smile and a respectful bow. “Oh, M. Gauvain, we shall exert our fullest efforts towards the satisfaction of that noble assembly! If there is one quality that we of the Chateau are most known for, it is our discretion.”

This was, in all likelihood, demonstrably untrue—doubly so, considering that Celeste was accepting the commission. She made it sound believable, at any rate.

“And, M. Gauvain…thank you for the opportunity!”

The Comish wrote:"You will, of course, be compensated for your efforts."

Agale broke into a satisfied grin at this news, but he said nothing.

Redcap wrote:"Will it be? Had you simply explained the matter to the gendarme instead of running from them, the situation would have been sorted out much faster,"

"Perhaps you misunderstand the situation we faced." Agale chided the officer. "Timely gendarme reinforcement would have been welcome. Instead, we were faced with the unpalatable choice of being eviscerated by an unruly mob or, as we chose, retreat."