Café de Nuit

"Dare I hope it is an isolated box?" Lia asks. "A vessel that will contain the more ah, baleful aspects of its contents?" She gestures at the urn.

0 Days, 21 Hours, 59 Minutes
Port-a-Lucine Morgue, Quartier Publique, Port-a-Lucine, Early Morning on April 24th, 770
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Tomas wrote:"A box." Tomas notes, crossing his arms and trying to pretend that he follows any of this high concept arcane science nonsense. "I realize this is a dangerous thing to ask, but could you maybe go into a smidgen more detail?"

“Think carefully, Tomas. Do you really want me to? I can safely say there were herbs involved... actually, considering what those herbs were, I probably can't safely say that either.” Andre said, a wintry smile on his face. He opened his academic's black coat and withdrew a sandalwood box about the size and shape of a large book. “And Kerrian is quite right. It is the sort of box you put things in. Specifically, things that were lost, and which are now running around raising the dead and generally mucking about with the barriers between life and death... not that there's anything wrong with that.”

“Just have it near all the excitement when the time comes. The wraiths, once disentangled from M. Boucher, should be attracted into it and bound up... in theory, anyway. ” Andre said, putting the box into Lia's hands. “I put some enchantments on it so that it's fireproof and has the consistency of steel... I realize that with us around, this makes it only slightly sturdier than an origami folding of a box, but I tried.”

Mercator wrote:"Thank you for your assistance, Professor Theroux. And all," he says, nodding vaguely to the mass of people who have been laboring at identifying the urn. "We must take this and the other...impedimenta...back to Mlle. Inkeri. We probably should do it now, in fact. We have less than twenty-four hours remaining.

“Ah. Yes, that makes much sense... as much as any of this makes sense, anyway.” Prof. Theroux said, checking his watch. “Probably best hurry then, the Market closes at dawn. I would accompany you but... ah... that would be a bad idea. Charles-with-weaponry level of bad ideas.”

"Well, I for one am entirely reassured by this." Tomas deadpans, just in case anyone was doubting otherwise. Reluctantly setting his helmet back on, Eisenwald gives Andre a deadpan salute and turns to briskly walk out. Anything faster and the limp would be obvious.

M. Eisenwald wrote:"Well, I for one am entirely reassured by this."

"As am I, sir!" Celeste put in, either totally missing the ironic undertones or choosing to overlook them for the sake of encouraging group morale. She turned briefly to Andre. "And thank you once again for providing it, Professor--I daresay that without your kind assistance, we should simply have spirits roaming about willy-nilly...an outcome rather to be avoided for both our sake and theirs. Now! To our purpose, fellow-exorcisers!"

With that, Celeste briskly walked after Tomas, full of purpose.

Seeing that no-one else wants to (which they can hardly be blamed for), Mercator picks up the urn and tests its weight. It's not so much the weight as the shape of it that makes it awkward--it's just a bit too big to carry in one hand. "Could someone provide a satchel, perhaps?" he asks. "I am afraid I need one hand for my cane. Thank you for the box, Professor. We will endeavor to put it to good use."

"Thank you very much, Andre," Lia says, inclining her head to her fellow academic. "For everything." The Mage stows the box in the folds of her cloak, and briefly shakes professor Theroux' hand before following the others outside.

"Mercator," she says as she falls in beside the man, "perhaps our visit to your Inkeri's den may serve a dual purpose. Might she know more about that blasted cat that has now tried to kill us, or at least interfere with us, twice, do you think?"

0 Days, 20 Hours, 35 Minutes
Inky's Emporium, The Midnight Market, Early Morning on April 24th, 770
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You arrived at Inky's Emporium as the Midnight Market was closing down at the approach of dawn. Entry was no great challenge, now that you were counted as Marketeers, though unlike on your first arrival there was no cat distributing newspapers at the entrance to the fairgrounds. Given your recent experiences with cats, this was likely just as well.

Inky's shop looked comfortingly familiar, warm and comforting. It was a large, triangular tent, pitched with heavy beams of wood, the tops carved into intricate knots and animal's heads. Several more beams created a large overhang in front of the entrance.The interior was lit by a large, iron brazier, punched and carved with designs that left intricate patterns across the tent cloth; the smell of incense tingled at your nostrils. Herbs lay drying, hanging from racks, along with a few stray ducks and hares. A table in the back contained jars and pouches, their contents unknown. Nearby sat a basin of water with a ladle, a pair of chalices, a drinking horn, and a milking stool.

Inkeri Halvari was in the process of sweeping up when you arrived, her broom swishing along the floor of the tent. It was an old kind of broom, with a bent handle on which you could still see the knots of wood. She looked up when you approached.

"Good morning, mademoiselle," Mercator says, bowing slightly. "We have acquired the desiderata and return to seek your further assistance." As he speaks he displays the urn as representative of the objects acquired.

"I had to fight a train." Tomas adds, because he feels this fact is important and hasn't been focused on enough recently. Otherwise, he crosses his arms and tries to stay out of the fairy's way.

"We also come with some protective measures," Lia says, briefly flashing the box she got from Andre at the Huldra. "Just in case Death's entourage proves to be unreasonable, and the Midnight Market's protections should fail for some reason. And no, I have not forgotten your assurances that the Market is safe. Paranoia is an ugly trait, to be sure, but it has kept me alive until now and I am loath to abandon it now.

So. Are you ready?"

Lia smiles briefly at Tomas and pats him on the arm as she takes up a position next to him. "Yes, you did. You were magnificent as always. I may pay Nicolas to compose a proper ballad of your heroism when we get back to the house. Though I'm hoping for a discount since we were all involved."

"I have a question" Kerrian said from the back after the usual pleasantries one engaged in with ones new unpaid employer. "What do we do with that bit of protection once its served its purpose? It's not the sort of thing we can just leave laying around."

Prof. Mourneswaithe wrote:"Yes, you did. You were magnificent as always. I may pay Nicolas to compose a proper ballad of your heroism when we get back to the house. Though I'm hoping for a discount since we were all involved."

"I am said to be something of a hand at the pianoforte!" Celeste brightened. "I should be happy to provide accompaniment. It is a rather novel subject for a ballad--oh, not yourself, M. Eisenwald, for heroic deeds know no time period--but due to the train... M. de Castaigne, we shall have to think upon this!"

Having thus arbitrarily interpolated herself into the ballad-writing process, Celeste turned to greet the huldra, pleasant as ever. This accomplished: "And what, M. Inkeri, may I ask is to be my role in this process? I understand that I am to be...ahem...a component, is it? Oh, it does all sound rather portentious, when phrased as such."

Rex stood in the background and watched. This was all a very weird setup and from someone like Rex, that was saying something. The pharmacist still wasn't completely sure where or how he fit in all of this. Three nights ago he was making plans to find a new home and suddenly he was on an epic quest to save the very soul of Death. So he did what he did best.

He stayed quiet and unobtrusive.

0 Days, 20 Hours, 31 Minutes
Inky's Emporium, The Midnight Market, Early Morning on April 24th, 770
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Lia wrote:""Just in case Death's entourage proves to be unreasonable, and the Midnight Market's protections should fail for some reason"

Inky gave a little frown. "The protections of the Market often result in the death of the aggressor," she said. "If you do want this man back, we shall have to go elsewhere."

Mercator wrote:"Good morning, mademoiselle," Mercator says, bowing slightly. "We have acquired the desiderata and return to seek your further assistance." As he speaks he displays the urn as representative of the objects acquired.

"Oh!" Inky exclaimed. "This is wonderful!" She went to take the urn from Mercator, though she did flutter her eyes at him a bit.

"Now," she explained, as she set the urn down and began to her work, "I will fashion the emblems of death into stones - bone, blood, ash, dust, and breath. And I will fashion the emblems of the man into cords - body, mind and soul. The stones you will take to set a trap for the so-called-Death. Set them down in a circle of five points, and lure him into it. It will be easiest if you do so in a place that attracts him in some manner. Go to a place that most reflects the nature of this Death- there are many kinds of death, you must find a place that best represents this aspect." Inkeri gave a disgusted shudder. "Oh, but it is a vile thing, this replacement."

"The cords you will take and tie around him. They will bind the man together. Once this is done, you activate the stones while he stands among them by touching them and saying their names." Inky shook her finger in admonition. "Do not activate them before you have the cords around him! If his body is not bound, he will certainly die, if his mind is not bound, he will go mad. If his soul is not bound... it would be better if he had died or gone mad."

"The cords should keep him from shattering, but, the binding to the spirits has been becoming stronger and stronger over time. He will be very fragile, so I hope you are prepared to work your trade," Inkeri warned Mercator.

Celeste wrote:"I understand that I am to be...ahem...a component, is it? Oh, it does all sound rather portentous, when phrased as such."

Inkeri gave Celeste an appraising look. "I cannot make you into a cord," she stated obviously. "He must wish to come back, so it may be enough for you simply to be there and make him wish to come back. Then again, it may not, so you should place a hand upon him, at the very least."

"But I do not think it should be a problem for you to get your hands on him," she said, with a highly suggestive smile.

Lia wrote:"We also come with some protective measures," Lia says, briefly flashing the box she got from Andre at the Huldra. "Just in case Death's entourage proves to be unreasonable."

Kerrian wrote:"I have a question" Kerrian said from the back after the usual pleasantries one engaged in with ones new unpaid employer. "What do we do with that bit of protection once its served its purpose? It's not the sort of thing we can just leave laying around."

“If you're willing to trust me with it, I can make sure that it never sees light of day.” Prof. Lessard said quietly, appearing from behind the rest of the group. When it came to being unnoticed and unseen, Remy was not far from Rex. The blond man offered a small smile. “I don't know what kind of magical signatures it would give off, but Prof. Theroux did good work on the containment routines. I can bury it so that it won't be found until we know what to do with it. ”

Tomas...looks away, rubbing his cheek and lowering his helmet a little.

Look he may be a boisterous type but you only get called magnificent by a woman of some personal importance so often, even if said woman doesn't feel that way about you. The mention of a ballad that didn't depict him as crazy helped too. "Sorry, Lia, I'm just tired..."

Oh hey work time. "Remy, of course we trust you. That's not a bad idea." Tomas offers, feeling a bit bad for how rude he was to Andre earlier. "...and besides, if you go crazy and try to use it to call up an army of ghosts or something, its not like I don't know how to find you!"

The really disturbing thing is that Tomas sincerely intends this to be a comforting thought.