La Maison Soloumbre: Night of April 10th

[Moral Machivelli]

Gertrude looked up at the shadowy figure before her, assuming it might be one of her Zherisian Brothers, or even Master Larner herself. The blunt words made it clear how wrong she was, and she mentally sighed with annoyance. Wonderful, the Boorcan…

She looked off to her right, addressing the air. “And a good evening to you too, Brother. Yes, I am having a lovely time here.” She now turned to look directly at Buchvold. “Really, Brother, you should be careful using your wit. You might accidentally sharpen it.”

Buchvold winced. Oh well, rough with the smoth, Raephael

The professor had no intention of course of answering that question; she was pretending to be a convert, not a chump. She did feel that she was entitled to a little gloating. “I came outside for a bit of fresh air, if you must know. The Shadowcloak honoured me with the news that I will be able to do my presentation soon, and who my examiners might be.” That would hardly be a secret for much longer. “I didn’t feel like wandering the front lawn and drawing the curiosity of the guards that might be posted.” She then added in a rueful tone, shrugging her shoulders. “I’d also forgotten about how many tents there might be.”

"Hmm. May I offer my congratulations professor? and you are right, their are a few more than you might expect, out here. "
Buchvold is quite sincere
"So, you celebrate the possibility of promotion by getting soaked, professor?" Buchvold asks,

“Are you sleeping out here, Brother?” She asked sympathetically. She hoped he was, and that his tent was poorly pitched.

"Hm, I wouldn't allow myself the luxery, professor" Buchvold dosen't ellucidate beyond that.

OOC. Sorry. I didn't read the description of the Statue throughly. I assumed it to be resionably destinctive of ezra. But you'll have to admit that coming out in the poring rain to stand still is a bit odd, to say the least. Buchvold is still curious.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"So, after Master Shadowcloak gave you such infomation, you, a professor of religous studies,from a realm where Our Lady has a scant following came out to stand by a statue of ezra. Which Sect has Master Shadowcloak asked you to "Convert" to?"

Foul! Out of character knowledge!

I think this really does string together waaaayyy too many inferences for Buchvold to think of this at this point. I'm not at all sure it would be obvious to Buchvold that the statue is an ikon of Ezra, and considering that all Kingsley did was come outside and stand near it, and that she didn't acknowledge his first sally, he has no reason at all to connect her remark about the conversation with Shadowcloak to her coming out to look at the statue.

Sorry, MM. You'll have to work it out more gradually.

[Pamela]

“Thank you very much, Brother,” Gertrude remarked, unable to refrain from beaming with her delight. It was the first time she’d been able to say it aloud, and she was looking forward to repeating it. She laughed at the suggestion, and said, “No, not so much celebrate as deal with the excitement and case of nerves. It doesn’t do for a Brother to act like a ten year-old,” she remarked ruefully, still smiling. “And we Zherisians are believers in the medical benefits of cold showers,” she remarked, stretching out a hand to the raindrops, “And I thought this was both providential and practical.”

She raised her eyebrows at the idea that sleeping out here would be a luxury, looking back at the tents behind them. “Neither will I, I’m afraid,” she answered, and then asked teasingly, “So then what brought you out here, Brother? Tit for tat, as they say.” She wasn't being serious; she was in good spirits, and disliked being on a sour note with anyone- at least, until they'd earned her dislike.

[Moral Machivelli]

"True, true." Buchvold smiles
"I remember my first presentation. I'd decided to take a little gamble. To give it on artifacts (Or, Pariphinalia) of shadow and hoped for a liberal pannel and was treeted to some of the most conservitive stiff liped brothers the fraternity held. It was all I could do to hold myself together. When my pass came through, I was so relieved, I ran through our cell's main hall , laughing hystericly. I then went arround telling all the other members of the cell a collection of bawdy annecdotes. That went down none too..."
Buchvold's face, which had been happy for this annecdote, frezes, just for a moment, then goes on.
"The important thing is to look calm. So long as you can, everyone will be impressed. It's impossible to answer every question, so be redy to improvise. But , from what I know of you, you should be fine."

"Hah" Buchvold laughs "Very well, professor, tit for tat. As improbable as it seems, I like to take a walk in this weather. I find it focuses the mind. If you can concentrait, when nature itself is this destracting, your mind is reaching a higher point" Buchvold laughes at himself.

"Sounds like somthing from the isles of the sun, professor? I admit, it sounds odd, yet their is a truth in there somwere"

[Pamela]

“Oooh,” Gertrude groaned, smiling sympathetically at the described situation. She could see the scene too clearly, and replied cheerfully, “I thank you both for the advice and the compliment.” She of course already knew the value of keeping her calm. Emotionalism was supposedly characteristic of the weaker sex, and she tried not live down to that expectation. “I will say, though, Brother, that while some might have called your reaction unwise, I do applaud you on your honesty. I personally had to clench my fists in my lap to prevent myself from jumping up and down,” she said, laughing fondly at the memory.

She sat back, relaxing at the conversation, glad for a pleasant diversion from the normal back-stabbing. “From the isles of the sun and the Zherisian chapels- and please, call me Kingsley,” she said, extending a hand. “I do understand what you mean, though. Oddly, I find it easier to concentrate when it’s raining- or at least when it’s not a downpour,” she corrected herself. “The rhythmic fall of the rain is often hypnotic, and I’ve often found myself focusing on shutting out the dampness and the chill. Sunny days are the real challenge- or perhaps it’s simply due its rarity back home.”

Her voice was slightly wistful, and then she shrugged, coming back to the present. “I was planning on going back inside myself. Would you care to join me, or shall I leave you to enjoy your meditation?”

[Moral Machivelli]

""It came off, Professor, " Buchvold smiles , mock bowing to Kingsly. He joined in her laughter at her recolection
"The senior members of the fraternity tend to produce that effect. Oh well."

Buchvold nods to himself as Kingsly speaks, bowing to her properly as she offers her hand.

"Certianly, Sister Kingsly. Whirls such things as meditation have merit, a rest, warm drink, and conversation are ever welcome"

[Nathan of the FoS]

"If I remember rightly, your own presence had been hoped for by some, yet circumstances aligned to spare you from a night of disarray. A lucky absence, if so." Crow tilts his black-curled head, as if he finds recollection easier from a skewed angle, and looks ingenuously at the noblewoman. (He never had found out if she'd truly been scheduled to attend back then.)

"Not at all," the Countess replies, her mouth setting into an unexpectedly firm line. "If I could have done anything...but then, the past is past. Unless Brother Tuyuz's interpretation of Father Shadowcloak's presentation is correct, I suppose."

Confidence restored a bit by the taunting inherent in his latest remarks, the bard continues lightly:

"Granted, events were so harried that evening that the Professor and I did not actually converse, just then. But shared experiences -- especially jarring ones -- oft make friends of strangers, and it gave us much to talk about when we chanced to meet in Nevuchar Springs. A most delightful conversationalist, our Zherisian sister, and I find the philosophical questions inherent in her research to be fascinating."

"They are, and she is," the noblewoman agrees, glancing toward the door through which the Shadowcloak and the Zherisian had departed. "The Ezran ideas on many subjects provide interesting views on our own."

"Of course, one so 'ornamental' is readily fascinated by any field of study that promises novelty of thought and perspective. Your own, for example: I was chagrined to read in the programme that Your Ladyship will not be presenting, save as a panelist tomorrow morning. Come come ... surely you'd not deny a Brother's curiosity as to what you could have discoursed upon, were you so-inclined? A new treatise in the works, perhaps?"

The blond woman shakes her head slightly and gestures to a passing Brother who carries a tray of drinks; taking a glass of white wine, she sips at it before replying. "At present, Brother Crow, I am desolated to report that I must limit myself to the practical; namely, preventing our erstwhile brothers from accomplishing whatever scheme they have which demands the power of the Device. In better times my concerns are more metaphysical...I suppose I might sum them up by saying that we routinely speak of Mind and Shadow, assuming that all of us know what they mean and that everyone else agrees on that definition, when in truth the nature of the two, and the relationship between them, is not at all clear. I endeavor to elucidate them."

[alhoon]

Quite a wealth of information. Sure Buchvold would suspect that Draxton dropped by invisible to overhear. So perhaps this friendly exchange with Kingsley was a ruse, perhaps not. Time will show.

Draxton approached the gates, broke the invisibility spell when none was looking and entered the manor to go to sleep. Perhaps the Borcan he would share the room with would now more about Buchvold and his finances, deals etc.

[Pamela]

Gertrude returned Buchvold’s teasing gesture with a deep curtsey, as if the two were dance partners about to sachet across the drenched lawn.
“All things in moderation,” she said cheerfully, and walked at the Borcan's side, careful to raise the umbrella to include him in its shelter.

“Is this your first visit to Souragne? I’ve only been here once before, and that was in the summer.” She mock shuddered at the memory. “If this is your first visit, take my advice and avoid this country between May and September. Unless you have an inordinate fondness for mosquitoes, heat waves and extreme humidity…”

[Moral Machivelli]

"I will sister, believe me."Buchvold smiles at the plesentry . "Besides, I have been travaling quite a bit since La Manoir upon a combination of my own buisness, and grunt work for the fraternity. I feel I can miss this realm for a while."

[Nathan of the FoS]

In the Ballroom

There is a stir among those in attendance, and both Crow and the Countess turn to see the source of the disturbance. A small group of brothers is leaving the ballroom through the Dementlieuse patio which opens to the back gardens; leading them is Mikkelson, but the real source of the disturbance appears to be Marcos Vedarrak and Marko Kaspan, both of whom have drawn their swords and are hard on the Father's heels. Behind them comes the hulking Lamordian Lars Lorenz.

"Excuse me," the Countess says, thrusting her glass on Crow and hurrying toward the door.

[Nathan of the FoS]

In the Garden

The Dementlieuse window to the ballroom is flung open*, and a group of men emerge; with the light behind them their identity cannot be determined immediately, but the gleam of metal in the hands of the two behind the leader shows them to be armed.

The leader gestures, and Buchvold, Kingsley and Serd all feel a tightening of their scalp and an unpleasant tingling sensation as the spell takes hold.**


*The door is about 60 feet away.
**mass hold person, save DC 23

[Moral Machivelli]

What the devil?

Buchvold reacts quickly .He shrugs off the magic, and responds with a spell of his own. 5 shinning fource missiles shreikd into the air,just above the attackers heads, as a warning gesture.
Quickly, the Borcan turned to Kingsly"Professor in case you hadn't noticed we appear to be under attack, see if you can get some light on to our assalients. Let's see who we are dealing with"

Armed attackers on our own grounds? Let us hope that Hazan had some defences installed.

OOC Magic Missiles.

[Rotipher of the FoS]

Oh, bloody perdition, what now?, the bard boggles, seeing the dark-skinned Father's party rushing outside, weapons at the ready. Can't these overschooled oafs last out two nights, without chaos breaking out at every quarter?

He runs a hand through his wayward curls, in likely frustration, then slips guardedly toward the patio, thinking to peer into the drizzle and see what the devil Mikkelson's band is doing out there.

Then Crow hears the distinctive sizzle of Buchvold's beloved force-missiles -- a sound his ankle recollects too well -- and his nonchalant stride toward the garden door lengthens into a run.


[OOC: Is there still any lightning happening out there? Or is it constantly too dark to make out what's happening from the patio?]

[Pamela]

Gertrude had been about to ask Buchvold about his travels when the patio door was flung open, and armed men emerged. She froze instinctively at the spell cast upon her, but her outrage- and of course, good fortune- made her act to defend herself. She suddenly disappeared from sight, and cried out, “No!” as the Borcan cast his spell against those emerging from the Maison.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, man, are we under attack or in the line of fire?!” she hissed at her companion as she began to move towards the mansion walls but out of the direct path of the aggressive group. There had been no outcry from the ballroom, as there surely would have been if an attack had suddenly arisen there. She was betting that the protections had revealed intruders, and that they were somewhere behind them.

And if I’m wrong, these are either invaders capable of destroying a room of brothers without a single reaction, or brothers who have taken offense to either Buchvold or myself. And I know fully well that I am not able of fighting myself out of either situation… Find out if the Countess and Crow are still alive, and if not, then the Shadowcloak…

Edit: fixed the wording in end of first paragraph.