La Maison Soloumbre: Night of April 10th

[Rotipher of the FoS]

[OOC: Yes, by then Crow's dismissed the Coin's link and found himself another way to be a pest. ]


Back in the ballroom, the bard watches Dirac survey the windows, curious why this fellow in particular should feel so pressed to exit. You'd think he'd count on his Falkovnian cousin -- or uncle or whatever -- to pass on a warning if necessary: those two clearly don't mind being seen together, and must partake of each others' reputations to a degree, in the Brethren's reckoning....

Crow himself has just spotted the already-open window, and is quelling the reflexive rise of an eyebrow -- A-ha! -- when a clipped utterance from Buchvold in his Coin-caressed ear sends the bard's harmonica off-tempo:

"Our discussion had finished, and I was proceeding to the Maison, when I fell into discussion with sister Kingsly. Shortly after that, this all started. "

Alarmed -- Dash it, she's caught up in this latest wretched muddle as well? -- the VRS spy corrects his acoustic slip, glances again at Paul Dirac, and wraps up "Pennies for the Ferryman" a bit more affrettando than its composer would've likely approved. He listens in just a few seconds more -- long enough to overhear Quiret's lirico voice; not a comforting thought, but Crow must trust his little "pranks" have taught the Borcan to evade the truth with bards, by now, not attempt to lie directly -- then dismisses the Coin's link, not knowing when (if ever) his "ally's" personal possessions will be returned or how closely they might be inspected.

Dirac is already getting close to the opened window, and will likely spot it on his own in moments, but Crow doesn't give him the chance. Slipping his harmonica back into its sheath and snatching up his guitar-case, he rises from his seat and moves to intercept "Brother Crow's" apparent fellow-dandy, raises a cautionary hand to indicate the Dementleiuse had best draw no attention their way.

Then, having caught the young Brother's eye, he points surreptitiously toward the Rokushiman screen, then at himself and Dirac. His brow rises enquiringly, and the spy lets an impish message -- Looks like we have the same scheme in mind, yes? -- gleam, unspoken, in his eyes and wry smirk.

[Pamela]

"I am sure you do, Professor," the Countess replies coolly, glancing almost too quickly to be noticed at the Lamordian; Kingsley realizes that her demeanor would probably be quite a bit more sympathetic if they were alone. Lorenz grunts and shifts his weight, leaning in to ask, "You cast no spells? At least, up until your disappearing trick?"

Thank heavens, Gertrude thought; she’d begun to be worried whether the Countess really had decided that she had cause for suspicions. She made sure not to reflect her relief; this was fairly easy, since after all she was still handcuffed and nobody was agreeing or making a move to change her circumstances.

She turned at Lorenz’ question and said, “None.” Could it have been Serd’s invisibility which had caused this alarm? No, they were hurrying away; something else. But what?

[Nathan of the FoS]

The Lamordian seems about to speak again when the tent flap is pushed aside again and Father Mikkelson looks in, his yellow-gold eyes eerily bright in the dim illumination.* "Nothing," he says to Lorenz and the Countess. "Let's go to Vedarrak's tent; it's larger."

Large though it may be, it does not hold ten people; Gertrude finds herself seated with Buchvold and Serd in Vedarrak's tent attended only by Father Mikkelson and Vedarrak. Handing the collected possessions to the Countess, MIkkelson tells her to "examine them closely", then turns to the three seated on Vedarrak's camp bed. Muttering a few words, Mikkelson raised a ruby in a braided loop of gold to his eye, transforming the pupil to a drop of blood. After examining each in turn, he gestures to Vedarrak, saying, "You may free them now, Brother."

Nodding, Vedarrak steps behind the three and frees their hands as the Father continues to speak. "I am sorry to have put you to such inconvenience," he says smoothly. "A word of explanation is in order, of course. We detected a powerful divination being used in the area of the grounds in which you were situated, and we have reason to believe that the person using it has ties to our former associate van Rijn. It was, of course, therefore imperative that we act immediately to detain those who might be responsible."

In answer to the question which springs immediately to everyone's mind, he continues, "Brother Lorenz and I did not succeed in finding a fourth person in the vicinity, but more information will be available on this subject after examination of our various wards and alarms. It is probable that the miscreant fled over the security perimeter."

At this Mikkelson smiles his weirdly brilliant smile. "He may already wish Brother Lorenz and I had found him. Keep your wits about you, however; if a brother knows more than he should of these events, please inform me immediately."



*I just forgot this is all happening in the dark--the Countess cast light before going in. Vedarrak uncovered a continual flame torch in his tent.

BTW, Roti, what level spell is Crow's "Listening Coin" trick?

[Rotipher of the FoS]

[OOC: It's only 3rd level, so its aura is "faint" and should be long gone by the time the captives' possessions are passed on to the Countess in the other tent.]

[Nathan of the FoS]

[OOC: It's only 3rd level, so its aura is "faint" and should be long gone by the time the captives' possessions are passed on to the Countess in the other tent.]

That's what I thought. It's a good thing, too, 'cause it is not at all a sure thing that Buchvold and Crow would live out the night if it had been found.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Then, having caught the young Brother's eye, he points surreptitiously toward the Rokushiman screen, then at himself and Dirac. His brow rises enquiringly, and the spy lets an impish message -- Looks like we have the same scheme in mind, yes? -- gleam, unspoken, in his eyes and wry smirk.

Grinning, Dirac looks over his shoulder; seeing that he and Crow are, at present, unobserved, he ducks behind the screen and slips through the window easily, landing on the wet earth some seven feet below the window with an audible squelch. He looks up and offers a hand to Crow--perhaps he noticed the bard's slight limp.

[Moral Machivelli]

Buchvold looks satisfied at that. He waits for either Kingsly or Serd to ask a question, but appears quite ready to leave himself. At least we get an explination, if a poor one. That was more than I expected.

[Pamela]

Gertrude heard the Father’s news with private relief. She was interested in seeing whoever caused all this fuss apprehended, but she also wanted her hands freed before anything serious happened. Do they really think they need this many to watch over us, she thought to herself, but squeezed into her place with the other ‘prisoners’. She watched as their items were taken by the Countess, now having some sort of an idea as to why she’d lost a handkerchief, then forced herself to meet Mikkelson’s eerily feline gaze.

She gladly offered up her hands when it was her turn, listening to the reasons for their arrest in the first place. Fled over…? She recalled the warning they’d been given that first night, and found herself smiling at the traitor's possible wish. She wondered if he was referring to the protections themselves, or to van Rijn’s anger at the spy’s failure. After all, what would he be able to reveal? She had no intention of asking about that however.

At his last words, she waited for a moment before saying, “It’s quite understandable, Father, to err on the side of caution. But may I ask what we should say if we are approached by those within? They are sure to be curious. Or shall we merely say that we are not at liberty to discuss it?”

[Nathan of the FoS]

At his last words, she waited for a moment before saying, “It’s quite understandable, Father, to err on the side of caution. But may I ask what we should say if we are approached by those within? They are sure to be curious. Or shall we merely say that we are not at liberty to discuss it?”

"Why, tell them the truth!" Mikkelson replies, smiling more broadly. "Within reason, of course. You were outside near the scene, and we asked you what you had seen."

As the Father speaks the tent flap is drawn aside again, and Brother Paul Dirac thrust his head into the tent, his carefully coiffed hair now a drenched mop of curls. "Marcos! Oh...Mists. Father Mikkelson, your pardon."

The Father stares flatly at the Dementlieuse nobleman. "Your pardon, Brother Dirac," he says, with deadly courtesy. "I had no idea I might be delaying a private meeting between you and your cousin. Please, allow me to withdraw." Turning back to the three seated on the bed, he continues, "Thank you for your assistance. If you should find or remember anything touching the matter discussed, please inform me immediately."

Half-standing, he exists past Dirac.

OOC: Play it as you like, Roti--either Crow is right behind Dirac, or they split up in the garden somewhere.

[Rotipher of the FoS]

[OOC: Whoa, there! Lemme get something in here, before you guys get too far ahead. (Should be writing exams, but what the heck, who needs sleep tonight? ) Here's a lead-in to what might've gotten Dirac so excited.]

At the squelch of Dirac's soles in mud, Crow winces -- Headless chickens again, blast it! If only I'd not needed an alibi-witness to accompany me out there....-- then clambers from the window with considerably more care. He allows the young Brother to assist him, setting his sound foot into the Dementlieuse's upraised hands, then lowers himself carefully, judiciously placing his feet on undisturbed grass.

Before Dirac's overenthusiasm can despoil the sodden ground any further, the bard scans the mud in the faint light from the ballroom windows, seeking the tracks of whosoever may have exited before them.

[OOC: Anything of interest? (Search check roll is 12 before modifiers, if necessary.)]

[Pamela]

Gertrude nodded at the advice, even as she began to consider ways to avoid being questioned. There were preferable ways to be the centre of attention than being handcuffed and questioned like a potential traitor. Even while innocent, such things could leave a tinge of doubt in everyone’s mind, especially considering the high level of suspicion that was about.

She curtseyed as the Father departed, and then turned to the rest of those squashed in the little tent. “Brothers, if you do not wish anything further, I ask your leave.”

[Nathan of the FoS]

She curtseyed as the Father departed, and then turned to the rest of those squashed in the little tent. “Brothers, if you do not wish anything further, I ask your leave.” She turned to the Countess, but the quickly turned her gaze to all the others. She had been about to ask if she would join her, but she recalled the act earlier before the Lamordian. It wouldn’t be wise nor fair to show a familiarity that either presumed upon the Darkonese noble, or that might reflect badly upon her.

OOC: Actually, the Countess is somewhere else at the moment; the only people present in the tent are Gertrude, Buchvold, Serd, Vedarrak, and Dirac (in the doorway).

[Nathan of the FoS]

[OOC: Whoa, there! Lemme get something in here, before you guys get too far ahead. (Should be writing exams, but what the heck, who needs sleep tonight? ) Here's a lead-in to what might've gotten Dirac so excited.]

At the squelch of Dirac's soles in mud, Crow winces -- Headless chickens again, blast it! If only I'd not needed an alibi-witness to accompany me out there....-- then clambers from the window with considerably more care. He allows the young Brother to assist him, setting his sound foot into the Dementlieuse's upraised hands, then lowers himself carefully, judiciously placing his feet on undisturbed grass.

Before Dirac's overenthusiasm can despoil the sodden ground any further, the bard scans the mud in the faint light from the ballroom windows, seeking the tracks of whosoever may have exited before them.

[OOC: Anything of interest? (Search check roll is 12 before modifiers, if necessary.)]

Between the dark and the rain, Crow gets the feeling that there will be little evidence to be had. Certainly none is immediately apparent to him now. Dirac has loosened his rapier in its scabbard and made an abortive foray toward the tents; when he sees Crow examining the ground he turns back and waits until Crow raises his head. "I say," he says, "Can you read tracks, Brother...er...I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

[Rotipher of the FoS]

Crow sweeps his rapidly-soaking curls away from his brow, inspecting the ground, but the downpour and darkness are too obscuring to make out anything of use. He looks up at Dirac's query -- Not after you've trodden on them, I can't, he muses crossly -- and replies, a mix of puzzlement and frustration in his voice:

"Not really my specialty, but the presence of tracks might prove we aren't the first to use that egress. Some other Brother may know more of such things. Dash it, we'll need light over here."

He straightens, and squints toward the tents through the rain.

"It's Crow, by the by ... any ideas? Charging in to the rescue might be quaintly dramatic, but I'd rather not be mistaken for the enemy in the dark, if we can avoid it."

[Nathan of the FoS]

"It's Crow, by the by ... any ideas? Charging in to the rescue might be quaintly dramatic, but I'd rather not be mistaken for the enemy in the dark, if we can avoid it."

"Oh, I doubt we could rescue them," Dirac says. "Father Mikkelson? My cousin? I just want to find out what's going on...Surely if we had a good light to search by we could hardly be mistaken for undead in the dark, and it "furnishes a pretext," as my father used to say. I hardly think they can object to us being out here, after all; something like half of us were anyway, because of the rain and seeing to the tents."

Suiting his actions to his words, the Dementlieuse draws his rapier from its scabbard and mutters a few words, tapping the hilt just where it meets the blade; a soft illumination spreads from that point. Turning the sword over so that the ground is well-illuminated and their faces but dimly, he gestures to Crow. "Shall we have a look, then?"