Café de Nuit

Rue Vervain Rookery, Quartier-Ouvrier, Night of April 24th, 770
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Player Actions – The Pursuers
Rex is now on the same level as the Cat
Nerit Fey-Steps a length
Lia shoots the cat, causing the feline to slip back a 'Length'

Lia wrote:"That was not given to you, you furry little thief!" Lia snarls as she dashes along, and swings her staff up and forward. "Magistra ignis sum! Per iussu meu, sphaeram ignis expandentiam volat et inimicum meum vorat! Incipe!"

The sharp explosion of fire and brick forced the cat to put a sudden stop to his forward movement. Mournswaithe had so far been being singularly accurate when it came to shooting, and it was beginning to grate on Your Friend's nerves, at least if the muffled curse was anything to go by.

“I don't suppose we can settle this business amicably, now could we?” Your Friend asked in what was really a rather reasonable tone under the circumstances. “Possibly over a private dinner?”

And all in the meantime, Rex was sneaking steadily up behind Your Friend, coming ever closer to the satchel. Of Remy, there was not a sign.

New Skill: To try and grab the satchel, you need to make a Grab attack (Strength attack versus a (High DC)). Success means you get the satchel, failure means you drop back a length. This may only be attempted while in the same 'Length' or ahead of Your Friend, and while on the same 'level' as the cat.
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Player Actions – The Healers
Mercator figures out something of what is wrong with Thierri. All Heal rolls gain +2 for the rest of the challenge. (Total +4)
Nicolas figures out something of what is wrong with Thierri. All Heal rolls gain +2 for the rest of the challenge. (Total +6)
Kerrian uses Spirit of the Healing Flood for an automatic success on a Heal check.
Celeste uses Diplomacy to get a success in restoring Thierri's will-to-live. Useful stuff, that.


Up overhead, some of you could hear a flapping sound, like great pieces  of sailcloth being dragged through the air. Something, that was  far too large to be a bat or a bird, landed on one of the tenement  rooftops. There was little you could see at this distance, especially as  distracted as you were. But those who happened to look could see  something deathly pale and deathly gaunt, shrouded in black. With a  sudden spring, it shot back into the air, darkness flowing around it  like raven's wings.
    
There was an audible rush of air as le Marquis landed on the  cobblestones, though his shoes made only the lightest of clicking noises  as they touched the earth. The white-eyed man moved swiftly, moving  towards you, rushing, you could even say - though he slowed as he  reached you, looking down at the fallen young man in your midst.

Thierri was breathing now, which was a good sign to be certain, and he stirred weakly in response to Celeste's voice. It wasn't a strong movement, just a bare twitch of his throat, a small flutter of his eyelids. His eyes remained closed, but it was a sign, however small, that Thierri was not yet gone. That he could be brought back.

Thierri remains stable this round, and his condition improves (two successes accumulated)

"Good. Good!" Mercator says as Thierri stirs. "Mademoiselle Viardot, if you might support his head, I think he might be able to drink a very little now. Monsieur de Castaigne, if I might have the loan of that hip flask?"

Glancing up at Gauvain as he arrives, he nods at him but does not address him. Probing for the magician's pulse, he nods. "Yes, it's better. Clothing loose, that's well. He'll need water and salt...a warm broth is ideal, but it will have to wait."

Heal 28, using one re-roll.

"Hand over the box, you misbegotten, flea-ridden fink," Lia growls, "and I might consider it! Sagitta magica, omne erroe vacua, vole et inimicum meum perfringe!"
A dart of force shoots out of Lia's staff and strikes the cat dead-center.

(OOC: Lia casts Magic Missile for an automatic hit and 11 damage. I'd use a Shock Sphere, but Rex is now in the cat's general area and I wouldn't like to hit him as well. Besides... Guaranteed hit! ^^ I love Magic Missile!)

"Why of course monsieur" Nicolas says handing the flask over to Mercator, "for once its actually good stuff, a '56 Saint-Martin Armangnac, which if according to speil the vendor gave me - cures hepatitis, gout, cankers, heals wounds of the skin, enlivens the spirit, recalls the past to memory, renders men joyous, preserves youth and retards senility."

"Of course I use it to get blind drunk, but then I'm fairly certain I don't have gout or senility ergo it must work."

OOC:
Heal 22 which is probably only worth it as aid another to Mercator

Rue Vervain Rookery, Quartier-Ouvrier, Night of April 24th, 770
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Nicolas wrote:"Of course I use it to get blind drunk, but then I'm fairly certain I don't have gout or senility ergo it must work."

A pair of near-skeletal hands unceremoniously took the flask from Nicolas, and the poet found himself staring up into the blank, milky stare of his former jailer.

"Water," Le Marquis de Montmort reiterated Mercator's instructions, abruptly replacing the stolen flask with a different one. "Alcohol will kill him."

"It certainly would, if applied liberally," Mercator notes, unbuttoning Thierri's vest. "A very little...h'm."

Fishing not one but two flasks out of Thierri's vest and coat, he examines them briefly, opens each, sniffs, and then wordlessly passes them to Nicholas. Each is monogrammed NdC. Accepting the flask from Gauvain, he sniffs at it, wets one finger and touches it to his lips, and nods.

"But water first, since we have it, to restore the tissues. Please keep his head up, Mademoiselle Viardot, and we'll try him."

So saying, he reaches gently to open Thierri's mouth and pours a little water--a very little--from the flask over his dry lips.

Heal 25 to make sure that the contents of the flask Gauvain passes Mercator are, in fact, pure water, and not...heaven knows what.

Nicolas goes a tad pale under the Marquis glower but quickly recovers himself with a shrug. "Eh c'est la vie.. and I had wondered where those had got to" he says gratefully accepting the other flasks, giving them a sniff of inspection before pocketing them.

"If our endeavours on Monsieur Boucher's behalf are successful, looks like I'm throwing a party! And as this seems to be a day for having one's property returned, perhaps you wouldn't mind monsieur?" He finishes directing his question at the thin, ominous type in black who had recently relieved him of a very fine vintage.

Nerit stared down at the cat. A light breeze picked at the nun's hair where she stood on the roof. "I admit, Sodale, this was not how I imagined our meeting..."

Her eye twinkled in reflection of the low light, her expression firm and yet...apprehensive. A shadow leapt from her pocket then, and landed right on the cat's back. There was some tussling, possibly gnawing, but nothing came of it.


Thievery 14, reroll 19. Nupe.

Celeste gasped with anticipation upon seeing Thierri’s signs of recovery, then nodded at Mercator and did as the doctor instructed—showing a degree of efficiency heretofore unmatched in your memory.

“Yes! Yes—that is it, Sir! You are surrounded by friends, M. Boucher, the like of whom shall never forsake you, though arcane catastrophe or Death itself stand in our way! I implore you, noble Sir: only extend to those friends a reciprocal courtesy!”

38! on a Diplomacy.

"Is it true if I take your tail, it will grow right back?" asked the cat, intrigued.

"It is true indeed," said the lizard to the cat, "but my tail is poisonous. If you take it, surely you will die."

The cat, nonplussed, turned and walked away.

It was so delightfully heart-pumping. Rex reached out and delicately unfastened the satchel. It reminded him of his teen years, when he was at his peak activity, and he suddenly yearned for those days to return. For a second, he thought the cat felt him, but it didn't seem to notice, caught up as it was with Nerit's and Lia's frontal assaults.

The pharmacist slid the box out of the satchel and tucked it into his jacket, then quietly slipped away.

Thievery 27, then Stealthing away again since I haven't been noticed yet.

Kerrian was neither a diplomat or a medic, and he wasn't going to voice his opinion on the Marquis, at least anywhere where he could possibly hear. Which meant that certian thoughts and opinions would likely only be voiced in I'Cath, or perhaps the House of Lament.
But what Kerrian was was an intermediary with the spirits, and right now he was talking to them, trying to get them to do their level best to help mend Thierri's own shattered soulstuff.

OOC:Healing spirit, using the 2d6+3 non surge based healing to hopefully give a bonus to the next heal check on Thierri, if another is needed.

Rue Vervain Rookery, Quartier-Ouvrier, Night of April 24th, 770
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Player Actions – The Pursuers
Nerit fails thievery.
Lia hits the cat for 11 damage,
Rex succeeds at Thievery. VICTORY!

Lia wrote:"Hand over the box, you misbegotten, flea-ridden fink,"

The bolt of energy hit the cat dead-center, and the feline's form shuddered, but not in the way a wounded animal might. It was more akin to throwing a stone into the water, a series of ripples.

Nerit wrote:"I admit, Sodale, this was not how I imagined our meeting..."

“Reality has a way of disappointing, doesn't it?” The cat drawled, seemingly unaware of Rex skulking away through the shadows. The cat's voice took on a gently reproving tone, tinged with just a hint of mockery. “You were expecting, I think, something grand and monstrous, with eyes like shining galaxies and a pelt of limitless void, darkness and entropy encapsulated in concrete form?”

“Never fear, Sister Nerit. Our next meeting will not disappoint.” Your Friend said, and then he dived off the roof. He scuttled aside, quick as lightning when he landed, and then disappeared into an open sewer grate.
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Player Actions – The Healers
Mercator gets a Heal Success
Nicolas fails his Heal roll and gets snapped at by Gauvain.
Kerrian heals for a +4 bonus to the next Heal check.
Celeste succeeds on a Diplomacy roll. . VICTORY!


Gauvain didn't seem to notice Nicolas' request, as Thierri stirred again. The young man's eyes fluttered open once more, now their normal shade of blue. Le Marquis took a knee on the filthy streets, and then knelt down beside all the rest of you.

It was obviously taking Thierri a great deal of effort to even do this much, and it was an open question of how aware he was as he looked at his attentive rescuers. He looked at most of you in a haze, confused and half-aware, but his lips seemed to quirk at the sides when he looked at Celeste. And then there was Gauvain, looking much like the Grim Reaper that Thierri had so recently aspired to become, looming over him.

"You shouldn't have run," le Marquis said calmly.

Thierri closed his eyes and tried to turn his head away from all of you. "...hate... you always seeing me at my worst," he mumbled, nearly inarticulate through parched lips.

"It's when you need us to," Gauvain replied.

The dark clad man paused for another moment, then stood up, stepping back a few paces and removing his cold intrusion upon your circle of camaraderie.

Rex retraced his steps, keeping to the shadows and side alleys. He did his best to keep the smugness down but there was something very satisfying about the knowledge that he just stole from a smarmy cat-fey.

The pharmacist came to a dead halt when he spotted Gauvain. The Inspecteur was the last person Rex really wanted to see right now. He kept to the fringe. Why would Gauvain come and take such a vested interest in Thierri's health? He could not fathom it and he hoped the dark-clad man would leave presently.

Mercator notes the exchange between the magician and the policeman with a great deal of interest. It hints at a good deal more intimacy between the two than he would have guessed.

"Monsieur Boucher. Welcome back to the land of the living," Mercator says. It's the kind of remark that would be humorous, coming from someone else; Mercator sounds like he's giving a perfectly sincere greeting to an acquaintance returning from a long journey. "Please do not exert yourself in the slightest. Do not even sit up."

Looking around, he mutters, "We'll need something for a stretcher..." Tapping his cane against the ground, he glances at it and gives the ghost of a smile. "That's a start, perhaps."

"Falling Stars and Quarter Moon," a familiar voice declaims from the shadows,
"The burdens falls on our shoulders all too soon.
Ye falling Suns and rising Satellite,
shed Radiance to make our Way more bright.

Ye vasty World, an aching Void.
A Canvas upon which any Hand could,
but fails to, paint a Masterpiece.
Harken, my soul, I bid thee: Peace!

Oh, Power mine, rise with the Wind.
Blossom in Darkness, for burden I rescind.
Oh inner Fire, purest Star,
lighten our way, for we journey far.

I call to myself, I shall reply.
From the World now do I pry
the Power I need, and pay with my own.
For a while at least, we need not groan

Under our burdens."

Lia comes striding out of the shadows, runes of blue light kindling out of thin air around her and fading away just as quickly. The Mage is holding her ceremonial rattle, little puffs of grainy substance spilling from it into the air, where they kindle into more blue flame, then fade like the runes.

An oval of shimmering air comes to be next to Thierri, and Lia raises an eyebrow at Mercator. "Will this suffice for a stretcher?" she asks. "I can guarantee a smooth ride. A supernaturally smooth ride, at that."

Lia looks down at Thierri now -- and smiles. A little. "Well, there you are," she says. "Found something to live for, perhaps?"

(OOC: Lia casts Tenser's Floating Disk to carry Thierri wherever he needs to go. If it was good enough for the Icon of Ezra... ^^ The difference in ritual text is caused by the different date and location, of course. What else could the reason be?)