Café de Nuit

"I have seen plenty of horrible things over the course of my research already," Lia muses. "But .... I believe I know someone whose eyes are already open to deeper levels of reality. Is that what you are talking about? Then again, I hate to put him in harm's way. We would have to ask whether he is interested or not.

But for now, let's get what seems to be Cedolin under lock and key. It may sound cold-hearted, but someone needs to punch him out if it seems he is waking up again."

"I'll do it." Tomas volunteers, looking over Celodin for any sign of waking up, because, well, yeah. "Unless someone has something brilliant, I think that's that. Let's go."

"We'll need someone to identify what he is now first. I'm not going into this, or taking anyone into this blind. It'll be dangerous enough as it is." Kerrian said, looking to Tomas, then to Lia "As to your friend, just talking to him might help me get ideas, because like I said..this is improvising."

Tomas wrote:"Good thought, Agale. But how do we know that the Gendarme won't just kill him?"

"That is unlikely Mr. Eisenwald." Agale answered. "Captain Cedolin's life is the responsibility of his superiors in the gendarme. His fellows in law enforcement will wish to see every effort made for his recovery to the norm. In any case, the wine cellar at the Chateau is ill suited to the role of prison cell, especially when bona fide cells are readily available."

Let us recount Mlle. Viardot’s actions over the past twenty minutes.

Upon watching Cedolin fall—which she did with her full attention—she gasped audibly, bringing her fan to her mouth; as the group of you had discussed next steps, she had looked at the fallen captain with what looked like the beginnings of a tear in her eye.

“Oh, friends…oh, be the work of the Adventurer ever so necessary, even to preserve the fidelity of one’s nation…the result may nevertheless be doleful to behold!”

She sniffed and wiped the corner of her eye, in what looked like a conscious attempt to bear up under strain. “And yet…one must be heartened that he was subdued in a merciful fashion, and one that allows for his recovery…yes, one must. Oh, thank you, dear comrades, for your enduring benevolence of spirit, even amidst the perils of battle!”

Sense Motive, if you want.

And then the Levi mirror had cracked.

“Oh my.”

Within seconds, Celeste had been galvanized into a veritable ball of nervous energy, flitting between frantic artifact-gathering in the Dementlieuse room and looking at Cedolin in the hall, as if unsure which to be more concerned for. She was more successful at the latter than at the former. Within five minutes, her pelisse found its second calling as a bag for fifty or so years worth of priceless national artifacts, and she had somehow managed to sling a good-sized landscape painting over her back (“View of Parnault Bay”, Michel LeRoux, Dementlieuse, 545 BC). To her credit, she did eventually work up to giving the unconscious gendarme a comforting pat on the shoulder, though it took her several trips.

Celeste had looked rather hard at the Levi Mirror, just before heading toward the boat; her expression had a slightly deflated cast to it. You remembered she’d mentioned that her father and she had both taken an interest in the series. Just her luck that the one she’d most recently come across had an unearthly horror phase through it—and that it was too big to carry off the ship.

Once back on shore again, Celeste took a few moments to divest herself of the various priceless artifacts on her person.

M. Agale wrote:"Captain Cedolin's life is the responsibility of his superiors in the gendarme. His fellows in law enforcement will wish to see every effort made for his recovery to the norm.

“Oh, eminently sensible, M. Agale…the stations of the gendarmerie are open at night, no? Perhaps the poor captain would be best left in the care of his comrades?”

"The Marquis," Darius says flatly. "He will want to see this. He will probably have a better idea of what it means than we do, too. We'll see to it that he gets there."

Tomas raises a finger, ready to argue again, when Darius's words sink in. He pauses for a second.

Ten years ago, he wouldn't have thought of it. After all, its their friend, and their problem.

But now? Tomas smiles. "Ishfani, I think I like the way you think."

Tomas squats down to take a turn carrying the captain, and motions to Celeste. "I'm going to be taking a guess and saying you'd know where to go? The closer the better, nich war?"

"As long as it doesnt have to include a trip to Montmort, I concur" Nicholas says with a shudder through a cloud of cigarette smoke, then taking a well earned slug form his flask.

Tomas wrote:Tomas squats down to take a turn carrying the captain, and motions to Celeste. "I'm going to be taking a guess and saying you'd know where to go? The closer the better, nich war?"

"Palais de Justice perhaps?" The poet offers helpfully before offering the flask around. "Keeps the biting fingers of cold from your bones" he elaborates.

Parnault Bay, Port-a-Lucine; Night of March 24th, 770
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Agale wrote:"Miss Rondelet, you seemed to know something about what we just experienced. Can you elaborate further?"

"Well, like I said, I only read about it second hand until tonight," Cerise answered, biting her lip and casting her eyes up to try and recall the pertinent details. "There were some old records in Ronceray Abbey from a while back, way before Dr. Carre or anyone started working there. No one really cares about them since all the patients in them are long gone, one way or another, and the records are pretty bad. But this one woman had this really big fear of her own reflection for some reason. I guess someone screwed up the records or they didn't take her seriously, 'cause one of the nurses went in there with a metal food tray. Well... they had to call in some people to burn down the entire wing. All the other patients had gone silent and unresponsive, and all the lights were like they were back on the boat. They finally found the nurse still alive, with her eyes gouged out. As for the patient..." Cerise gave a shrug and a helpless smile. "Not a trace."

Lia wrote:Lia looks Richard in the eye. "And start praying for good luck in all of this," she adds. "Because this whole mess seems like one big trap, as well as a deliberate attempt to make the University look guilty as sin in the whole affair enwrapping Dementlieu."

Richard looked straight back. "I, I have been since, since the Tessier," he said grimly. "But, professor, are you insinuating that this whole, whole incident was for our benefit? As, as far as we know, no one but, but us saw what was in those holds. The, the University can hardly look guilty in the public eye of, of sending museum exhibits to another academy."

"Ummm, don't be too sure of that," Cerise interjected, a finger pressed pensively to the side of her lips. "No one likes the University right now, all it would take would be some tabloid headlines. 'What were they really doing out there', that sort of thing. You know, L'Interrogateur once had an article on how the new University buildings were forming a giant summoning circle on the grounds."

Richard raised an eyebrow at that, but otherwise didn't react. "That, that might be true. Unless, unless it got out that a large group of, of people secretly crept onto the boat, right before it sank." The young man glanced at the boatman, who gave his most winning smile.

"If I don't tell anyone, I can't keep my word to the fhine good man here, yeah?" the boatman beamed, patting Agale on the shoulder. "Meet me at, euhh, we'll say a week from now, should be enough time. I'll be at Pont de Tour, right by the town walls. Is three o'clock good fhor you? We can get lunch." The boatman returned to paddling, his previous good humor restored, though you could tell he was still very eager to get Cedolin off his boat. He gave Richard a cheerful wink. "You worry too much. But I'll tell you what. Just fhor you, I'll make sure to really rip off anyone who asks about it."

"So we're handing him over to the Marquis?" Cerise asked, looking at Cedolin and resisting the urge to pat him on the shoulder. "I mean, he seems like the kind who can keep him and all, I just hope he doesn't turn him into a vampire or anything. Because then he'd be, like, a star vampire or something, and those things are really gross."



Palais de Justice, Quartier Publique, Port-a-Lucine; Night of March 24th, 770
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There was a certain change that night cast over the city. Brightly lit parks became cast in shadow, alleyways that wouldn't cause a second thought during the day became dark and threatening. Port-a-Lucine had been aptly named, certainly around the government buildings, but there was only so much that small, oil flames could do against the darkness. But it was the people that changed the most. In the day, there were so many people that a single one would go unnoticed in the crowd. In the night, there were few people about, and your presence was made all the more obvious for their absence. Those few groups you encountered painted a picture of the dark undercurrents of the city: gendarmes in squads of ten or more, nervous, guns at the ready; mobs of commoners, young and old, with hidden clubs and hateful eyes. It was dangerous out here, at night.

There were some advantages to having Cedolin with you. Those who came too close would shudder at the sight of him, and slink away.

The Palace of Justice was not untouched by the night. In the day it was a magnificent white building, filled with the hustle and bustle of government workers going about their duties. In the night it was cast in yellow lamplight, the top of the building completely in darkness, looming over the smaller buildings. The place was deathly quiet. It seemed to be closed for the night, perhaps, until you reached the staircase and the doors opened. Two grim gendarme held the doors for you, gesturing you in. One took a look at Captain Cedolin and gestured to you, leading you down a a series of halls. It seemed your approach had been noticed.

The interior of the Palace proved better lit than the exterior. Le Marquis de Montmort was seated at a desk, in a rather comfortable looking office. It did not look like any office the Marquis would own, and judging from the brass nameplate reading Hubert Rossi on the door, it wasn't. Hubert's desk had apparently been requisitioned for M. Gauvain's paperwork, which was sitting atop it, with quill and pen. There was also a platter of fresh peaches on a side-table nearby, smelling heavenly sweet, sliced and arranged in a beautiful spiral. The silver capped umbrella was leaning next to them, the cruel raven's beak hooked atop the table, the eye sockets glimmering ominously in the light.

M. Gauvain had apparently heard your approach, as he had already set the pen down when you came in. The pale, milky eyes flicked over you, even as he reached out one of his arms, taking a slice of peach from the plate. He turned it over in his fingers, still holding it in one hand, running his fingers across the soft skin, never taking his eyes off you. Those of you with good eyesight could just barely follow his vision as it trailed over you. To Captain Cedolin, yes, where it lingered for a few moments, his eyes only closing for a moment as he ran the slice of fruit across the skin of his lips, taking in the sweet scent. The moment was gone, and his gaze moved onward, looking at the burned clothes and spots of blood, to the still damp shoes some of you wore, to the tapestries and paintings that were too large to be hidden.

"The Archeron has sunk," he finally said, before finally sliding the fruit between his teeth, letting the peach run across his lips as it slid into his mouth. If the man chewed at all, you certainly didn't notice it.

NeoTiamat wrote:"The Archeron has sunk," he finally said, before finally sliding the fruit between his teeth, letting the peach run across his lips as it slid into his mouth. If the man chewed at all, you certainly didn't notice it.

"Yes," Darius replies. As if determined to prove more laconic than the Marquis, he adds nothing...largely because "We were there" and "We found Captain Cedolin" are too obvious to bother saying. If the Marquis wants questions answered he'll have to ask them first.

"We were there, sir...and we found Captain Cedolin!"

Celeste furrowed her brow with concern. "We...ah...we had hoped that you could render us some assistance, as to his condition."

"Uncanny powers of perception, sir!" Tomas enthuses, speaking a bit more carefully because he is not eager to be reduced to his component parts. When working with deceptively frail yet sinister figures of authority, Tomas has found simple boundless enthusiasm is the best way to fend off a cry of 'seize them!'.

"...would you believe it was an accident?" This may be the truth but it is certainly taking the back road to get to town; Tomas slaps on a confident grin, however, like this was the sort of thing a man does every day. "The Captain needs to be quarantined. He's..." Tomas looks at Cerise. "...not quite a 'star vampire' but that's the closest we've got, but Kerrian thinks he can help the man."

"...its probably best that we get him put away before he wakes up." Tomas adds, looking a little nervous. "We can explain everything else, I promise. It is not being good news, but it is...significant news, sir."

(18 on an insight roll for Celeste and the Marquis, 28 on my diplomacy roll to convince the Marquis that we're being straight with him and that containment is a good idea.)

Palais de Justice, Quartier Publique, Port-a-Lucine; Night of March 24th, 770
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Celeste wrote:Celeste furrowed her brow with concern. "We...ah...we had hoped that you could render us some assistance, as to his condition."

Tomas wrote:"The Captain needs to be quarantined. He's..." Tomas looks at Cerise. "...not quite a 'star vampire' but that's the closest we've got, but Kerrian thinks he can help the man."

"Do you."

Kerrian immediately found himself on the full end of the Marquis' attention, the milky eyes narrowing slightly as they regarded the humble looking shifter. The question didn't sound like a question, but at the same time was meant as one. Le Marquis kept his gaze locked on the young man, awaiting the answer, to see if Kerrian was quite as certain and Tomas sounded.

It took a long, long time, but the Marquis' eventually responded. Without moving the rest of his body, M. Gauvain gestured to the guard who had lead you to the room. The man saluted and was gone; he returned a few minutes later, with small group of more red-capped gendarme. M. Gauvain handed one a key from his coat; the gendarme looked at it, nodded, and then went with the others to take Cedolin from the Isfahanis. The gendarme hoisted the bound captain up and, with enviable efficiency, carried him out of the door. Only one remained behind, replacing the guard that had been at the door before; this time a young woman with a scar across her nose.

"We can explain everything else, I promise. It is not being good news, but it is...significant news, sir."

M. Gauvain took another slice of peach from the plate, turning it around in his fingers. There was an almost obscenely sensual way to how he ate the fruit, and it was not a pleasant thing to watch.

"Then explain," he commanded.

"Explanations should wait until after the Captain -- or possibly what remains of him -- has been secured," Lia says in a very precise tone of voice. "It would be unpleasant if he became violent again."

Darius and Cyrus hand over Cedolin with a minimum of fuss, and Darius watches his speedy departure with distant approval; the gendarmarie seem to know this end of their business pretty well.

Given that "securing the Captain" is what has just occurred, Darius is not quite sure what the professor is on about. Accordingly, he begins to speak.

"We left our residence directly after your departure, monsieur, and proceeded to the docks, where we engaged the services of a local boatman and approached the ship. Finding it deserted...probably due to the unfortunate demise of the night watchman...we boarded and began to search it. We were assaulted by magical traps, and...that." Darius nods toward the door through which the unfortunate Cedolin was just carried. "We subdued it, but something...a failsafe triggered by our destruction of the magical traps, perhaps...resulted in the scuttling of the ship. We saved what we could, including the former Captain, and came here knowing you would wish to be informed and to observe our captive. Is his present condition one with which you are familiar, monsieur le Marquis?"