Mists over the Musarde, Chapter Two
- ewancummins
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Mists over the Musarde, Chapter Two
The waning gibbous moon hangs in the night sky above Pont-a-Museau, gleaming like a fat crescent of polished bone. Moonlight filters down through the wispy clouds to half-illumine the ancient cityscape below. Through the heart of the city snakes the river Musarde, a long ribbon of glistening silver.
The gently rolling river is not the only thing in motion within the scene. Here and there, men can be spotted walking home to rest after a day spent in the shops or markets of the city. Pont-a-Museau might seem to be preparing to sleep now, work and trade having concluded with the coming of night.
The city never sleeps, though. Even as the daytime crowd of citizens recedes, another set of inhabitants emerges. Cloaked, tight-lipped figures enter and leave certain houses that never see activity by day. Skulking footpads creep through the back-alleys, seeking their prey. Cats sing screeching love songs from atop rickety wooden fences, to the annoyance of any householders in the neighborhood. Feral dogs congregate in empty lots to bay at the grinning moon. Rats and mice move out from the hollow places within the walls and from the sewers below to search for food.
It has been five days since the dinner with the Sancerres.
This night there is to be a rendezvous of our intrepid investigators, at the little makeshift office they've set up for themselves, not far from the river. The door to the meeting room opens...
The gently rolling river is not the only thing in motion within the scene. Here and there, men can be spotted walking home to rest after a day spent in the shops or markets of the city. Pont-a-Museau might seem to be preparing to sleep now, work and trade having concluded with the coming of night.
The city never sleeps, though. Even as the daytime crowd of citizens recedes, another set of inhabitants emerges. Cloaked, tight-lipped figures enter and leave certain houses that never see activity by day. Skulking footpads creep through the back-alleys, seeking their prey. Cats sing screeching love songs from atop rickety wooden fences, to the annoyance of any householders in the neighborhood. Feral dogs congregate in empty lots to bay at the grinning moon. Rats and mice move out from the hollow places within the walls and from the sewers below to search for food.
It has been five days since the dinner with the Sancerres.
This night there is to be a rendezvous of our intrepid investigators, at the little makeshift office they've set up for themselves, not far from the river. The door to the meeting room opens...
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
- Lord Skybolt
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Norzak stretches on his makeshift bed. Made mostly of straw and a bedroll, he opens his eyes. He sits up and reaching to his belt, removes a waterskin. He sips the water and swishes it around his mouth. Satisfied he had the ale taste out of his mouth, he stands and moves to a window. Opening it he looks below. Seeing noone, he spits the water out of his mouth and onto the street. Judging by the sun it was near time for the meeting.
Below, Alain sees the spit fall to the ground. If he looks up he'll see Norzak for a brief moment at a window, then no more.
He takes out a ration and eats it as he moves to the door, and opens it. He moves inside the room and gets behind a desk. He sits at a chair and leans back against the wall, waiting for the others. He removes his new dagger and cleans his fingernails methodically, one by one, taking his time.
Below, Alain sees the spit fall to the ground. If he looks up he'll see Norzak for a brief moment at a window, then no more.
He takes out a ration and eats it as he moves to the door, and opens it. He moves inside the room and gets behind a desk. He sits at a chair and leans back against the wall, waiting for the others. He removes his new dagger and cleans his fingernails methodically, one by one, taking his time.
Bennedict walks up the street towards the new office, a pleased expression on his face. As usual, he makes note of any unusual activity occurring on the edges of his vision while his mind actively drifts through some bit of random information. Today's musings were especially pleasing, as he strolled back through his memory to a fine night with Charlotte, the Sancerre serving girl, from five nights previous.
Rounding a corner, he comes to the front door, his attentions shifting as he saw Norzak spitting out the window onto the pavement. He signs in irritation, stepping around the new puddle and up to the door. With another irritated glance he swipes at a piece of trash resting on the stoop, swiping it out of the way with his cane.
He steps in through the front door, glancing around as the dwarf starts to pick at his nails. "If we have such a wealthy patron, I fail to see why we chose such an abysmal neighborhood to set up shop in." He sets down a brown paper sack on the table in the center of the room, fishing around inside and pulling out a croissant before walking over to his desk. "There's one in there for you if you want it, Herr Norzak."
Rounding a corner, he comes to the front door, his attentions shifting as he saw Norzak spitting out the window onto the pavement. He signs in irritation, stepping around the new puddle and up to the door. With another irritated glance he swipes at a piece of trash resting on the stoop, swiping it out of the way with his cane.
He steps in through the front door, glancing around as the dwarf starts to pick at his nails. "If we have such a wealthy patron, I fail to see why we chose such an abysmal neighborhood to set up shop in." He sets down a brown paper sack on the table in the center of the room, fishing around inside and pulling out a croissant before walking over to his desk. "There's one in there for you if you want it, Herr Norzak."
Norzak nods at Benn as he fishes in the bag and removes a croissant. He stuffs it in his mouth, even as he begins talking "It's ......mmmmph..... free.... cheww.. cheww, swallow........ 'n' if ye kin.... mmmmphhh,,,,,,,, swallow,,,,,,, cheww,,,,, fin' a better one, be me ...............mmmmmmmphhh,,,,chew,,,,,,,,,,,,swallow,,,,,,,,,,,,, BELCH!!!!!...... guest. Thanks for tha croissant, Benn. See tha others?"He steps in through the front door, glancing around as the dwarf starts to pick at his nails. "If we have such a wealthy patron, I fail to see why we chose such an abysmal neighborhood to set up shop in." He sets down a brown paper sack on the table in the center of the room, fishing around inside and pulling out a croissant before walking over to his desk. "There's one in there for you if you want it, Herr Norzak."
Benn steps over to a large map of the city pinned to the western wall, looking at some scratched notes for the hundredth time, equally pointless since he wrote them in the first place. "No, I saw no one on the way here. I'm not sure if I'd be expecting Dorgio today. He's been...under the weather of late."
- Brock Marsh Runoff
- Evil Genius
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Dorgio plods down the cobblestone while rolling a fresh cigarillo. Thirty paces away and counting, his last one smolders in a puddle of something he’d tried not to identify. His stained nails sprinkle the leaves and he seals the roll with practiced alacrity. He sets it alight, and thick, curdled smoke rises past the circles under his eyes and clings to his hair.
As he walked, his mind wandered to the things he had seen the previous nights. He hadn’t had visions of anyone he’d killed in the past few weeks, not even the kidnapper he’d burned with the dagger. No, this past moon had brought on an apparition of Myklos, a bandit who’d terrorized the lands around Dorgio’s hometown.
The first man he’d ever killed.
*****
“Do you remember,” Dorgio had heard the voice say, “when we both snuck out of our lessons and found that green snake on a rock? Remember how we ran when we thought it was chasing us?”
He saw Myklos there, sitting on a pile of crates in Dorgio’s house. A lozenge-shaped hole yawned in the man’s neck, just left of the larynx. Dorgio had been able the air whistling and wheezing.
“You would have done the same thing to me.” Dorgio had tried not to look away.
“When we were twelve I told you I’d gone picking with Catalÿn. After I told you I didn’t see her again until I saw her with you at the Harvesting.”
“Nobody forced you to become a killer,” Dorgio had told the hallucination.
“Nor did they you.”
*****
He arrives at the building and stubs out the cigarillo in the dust. “Ah, my apologies,” he says as he steps inside. “I’d thought I had more time.”
As he walked, his mind wandered to the things he had seen the previous nights. He hadn’t had visions of anyone he’d killed in the past few weeks, not even the kidnapper he’d burned with the dagger. No, this past moon had brought on an apparition of Myklos, a bandit who’d terrorized the lands around Dorgio’s hometown.
The first man he’d ever killed.
*****
“Do you remember,” Dorgio had heard the voice say, “when we both snuck out of our lessons and found that green snake on a rock? Remember how we ran when we thought it was chasing us?”
He saw Myklos there, sitting on a pile of crates in Dorgio’s house. A lozenge-shaped hole yawned in the man’s neck, just left of the larynx. Dorgio had been able the air whistling and wheezing.
“You would have done the same thing to me.” Dorgio had tried not to look away.
“When we were twelve I told you I’d gone picking with Catalÿn. After I told you I didn’t see her again until I saw her with you at the Harvesting.”
“Nobody forced you to become a killer,” Dorgio had told the hallucination.
“Nor did they you.”
*****
He arrives at the building and stubs out the cigarillo in the dust. “Ah, my apologies,” he says as he steps inside. “I’d thought I had more time.”
"You said I killed you--haunt me, then!...Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!” -Wuthering Heights
- Lord Skybolt
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Alain waits for everyone else to arrive and then knocks on the door so he doesn't spook anyone after taking one good look around before entering the building. "So have we had any luck finding a starting point in our search for this supposed portal? " Alains says in greeting after coming through the door.
"Evil only endures when good people remain silent ."
Tony inspired by Thomas Jefferson .
Tony inspired by Thomas Jefferson .
"As it turns out," Bennedict says, frowning and looking at the city streets, "I have a starting place, and as fortune would have it both of our current objects have collided in the same place. I would call it serendipity or a flat our miracle, if I believed such things were possible." He strokes his mustache thoughtfully.
"Herr Sancerre had the Torret from the Ezran cathedral over for dinner three nights ago, ostensibly to try and set up an opportunity for us to enter and look through their records for any information on combatting Druagr's like Renault. Instead, the man let slip that apparently the church has a sealed room containing records regarding the early history of the city itself. These records could be very helpful in pinning down a starting point. Of course, they're locked down tight and no one is permitted access, not even the Torret." He turns and flashes the dwarf a mischievous smile. "Not that we'd let a silly thing like that stop us."
"Herr Sancerre had the Torret from the Ezran cathedral over for dinner three nights ago, ostensibly to try and set up an opportunity for us to enter and look through their records for any information on combatting Druagr's like Renault. Instead, the man let slip that apparently the church has a sealed room containing records regarding the early history of the city itself. These records could be very helpful in pinning down a starting point. Of course, they're locked down tight and no one is permitted access, not even the Torret." He turns and flashes the dwarf a mischievous smile. "Not that we'd let a silly thing like that stop us."
Norzak grins back ar Benn. "Whut yer mean that lil silly thing? I mean, what if lets' say, some new citizens of this 'ere rat infested city, found themselves lost in say, some Church. Imagine if ye would, this same church is where we need to find us some documents. On top 'o' that, the door to these here documents became opened for some reason. That, 'o' course is hypothetically speaking. I mean we could accidentally fin' ourselves in the records place in the church. Could always say we took a wrong turn at Karg or somethin' if we got caught. I have a few spells I kin use that can help us. Mebbe buy me a few scrolls too. Any 'o' youse can cast that invisible spell?""Herr Sancerre had the Torret from the Ezran cathedral over for dinner three nights ago, ostensibly to try and set up an opportunity for us to enter and look through their records for any information on combatting Druagr's like Renault. Instead, the man let slip that apparently the church has a sealed room containing records regarding the early history of the city itself. These records could be very helpful in pinning down a starting point. Of course, they're locked down tight and no one is permitted access, not even the Torret." He turns and flashes the dwarf a mischievous smile. "Not that we'd let a silly thing like that stop us."
- Brock Marsh Runoff
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Dorgio slaps the side of his knee and gives out a hoarse laugh. "Couldn't have planned it better, eh my friend?" But soon his brows furrow and he pulls up a chair and sits, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"But how to do it undetected? The Ezrans have many friends among the upper classes here, and if we're discovered even Denys' might not be able to extricate us."
He leans back, looking at his three comrades. He looks ready to say something, but for a few lingering seconds, he simply looks in between them. At last he blinks, then shakes his head quickly and violently, then continues.
"I am unsure what wards their priests may have placed upon these records. We'll need to take extra caution." He looks at Norzak. "You have no small experience with infiltration, yes?" Turning to Alain, he asks, "And yourself?
"There are some prayers to the Morninglord which may help us. I could call in a mist to sweep over us. And the Canticle of the Voiceless," he continues, remembering another prayer, "could make us quiet as mice!"
"But how to do it undetected? The Ezrans have many friends among the upper classes here, and if we're discovered even Denys' might not be able to extricate us."
He leans back, looking at his three comrades. He looks ready to say something, but for a few lingering seconds, he simply looks in between them. At last he blinks, then shakes his head quickly and violently, then continues.
"I am unsure what wards their priests may have placed upon these records. We'll need to take extra caution." He looks at Norzak. "You have no small experience with infiltration, yes?" Turning to Alain, he asks, "And yourself?
"There are some prayers to the Morninglord which may help us. I could call in a mist to sweep over us. And the Canticle of the Voiceless," he continues, remembering another prayer, "could make us quiet as mice!"
"You said I killed you--haunt me, then!...Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!” -Wuthering Heights
- Lord Skybolt
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"I have been thinking that a scouting mission would be a good idea," the Lamordian continues, lifting a mug of tea to his lips for a quick sip. He winces for a moment as the hot liquid burns his mouth. "There is a cover I could use. The church no doubt has some quirk of architecture or history that could be publicly viewed. Perhaps I could take some rubbings from etchings on any of the carvings placed inside. And then, as Herr Norzak suggested, perhaps I could get lost somewhere inside the building."