Realms of Dread IC, Chapter One

[Ken of Ghastria]

She goes on to describe the man Blaise and she had been told about by the pirisoner. "E'er hear anything fittin this man's description before? Could help us in our investigation."

Blaise adds, "And has anyone heard a report some time ago, about a group of men found dead in an alley, with just one survivor, who's gone mad? He may be locked up in the House of Dawn?"

[ewancummins]

She goes on to describe the man Blaise and she had been told about by the pirisoner. "E'er hear anything fittin this man's description before? Could help us in our investigation."

Blaise adds, "And has anyone heard a report some time ago, about a group of men found dead in an alley, with just one survivor, who's gone mad? He may be locked up in the House of Dawn?"

\

Corporal Rawnel answers-

''Lot of dead men in an alley, and one mad survivor, that does sounds awfully familiar....I don't recall exactly what happened. Boys?''

Rawnel looks back at the men, but gets only confused or uneasy looks in response to his unformed question.

''Well, I can tell you this: the House of Dawn, that's the temple of Lathander. The good priests there; they care for the sick, the poor, and the mad. ''

[ewancummins]

the party

Lord Ildool, new-made Baron of Marsember, keeps a fine house. Like most buildings in the city it has plaster walls and a slate roof. Unlike most other buildings in Marsember, this one is freshly whitewashed and appears to be in an excellent state of repair. The house is large and elegant, but not what would be considered gaudy or ostentatious by Cormyte standards. Rows of torches line the front of the building, glowing without making so much as a whisp of smoke. The light rain falling has not the least effect on these lights.

Servants in livery [jackets of forest green] greet all guests as they arrive. The staff guide guests first to a cloakroom and then into a big parlor. A gaggle of early arrivals rests in the well-appointed parlor; chatting, flirting, perusing a collection of books on display,etc.

[steveflam]

"Awright, thanks boys. That be all. Take it easy, then." Turning, she looks at Blaise and nods, then leaves the barracks. Once outside they head for the Inn. "So what ye thinkin'? I think the information we got might bring about some more from Rask if'n we explain what we learned ta him. I know'd me Temple cares for the sick as well as mad. I might come in handy there as that's where I be stayin since I only bin here a few days."

They walk until they arrive at the Inn and entering, they sit at the table with the others.

[Ken of Ghastria]

"Sounds good," says Blaise to Rardi as they walk. "I'd like to go to the House of Dawn, too, to see if we can find this man. I like talking to crazy people."

[steveflam]

Rardi has no proper attire except for her ceremonial rite robes. Hence she will spend a little time purchasing the proper attire, dwarvish style of course!

She arrives by herself at Lord Ildool's home. Though she is weaponless, she still has her spells. Mighty fancy fer nuthin' Dun need no big home ta prove yer worth in me opinion. It's yer actions thet speak about what type 'o' person ye is.

She keeps to herself, looking around. Until someone actually approaches her to speak with her, she roams the home in areas she has access to.

[BigBadQDaddy]

Alain meanders about, at times trying to look like a member of the militia, but falling into old habits of enjoying the music and the people.

He tries to keep tabs on Jonet and Delthrin when he is able to.

[Archedius]

Archedius bathes, cleans his armor, applies spices to himself and the armor and puts it back on. He throws a tabard over his armor and finishes shaving with a small mirror of his. He swishes some liquor into his mouth and spits it out before clearing his mouth with water.

"Good enough" he thinks to himself. He heads for Lord Ildool's residence and looks for Rardi.

[steveflam]

Soon enough, the dwarf does spot Archedius approaching her. She walks over to him and smiles. "Ay Archedius ye look all nice 'n' spiffy fer once. Don't go all mellow in yer old age on me. So, how was yer day?"

She looks around and whispers "Mebbe we should find a quiet corner an speak, then."

[ewancummins]

at the party-


The sun is setting out the west windows, and colorful glass lamps have been lit to properly illuminate the large parlor in which the early arrivals are mingling.Servants are going about the house, lighting other lights, bringing refreshments to the guests, and generally seeing to the smooth progress of the soiree.

A tall handsome man with shoulder length light brown hair, blue eyes, and a winning smile enters the parlor. He's perhaps thirty years of age and dressed in fine quality but understated earthtone clothing. His only jewelry is a silver ring worn on his right hand. Two hulking fellows trail in his wake, both blunt faced men who wear swords at their sides.

A servant announces in a stentorian tone-

''His Lordship, Hintar Ildool, Baron of Marsember.''


Men execute polite half bows and women curtsey daintily as the new made baron makes this evening's introductory rounds through the crowd.

As the baron enters, Alain has mananged to track down Jonet Prake, but not Delthrin. Prake, a nervous looking young man clad in a blue drees uniform with silver toggles, stands near the punchbowl, sipping a half empty glass and looking about apprehensively at the fine ladies and well dressed gentlemen who surround him.

[ewancummins]

across town, near the Marsh Gate

Jamethon and Ironheart have walked or skiffed a good distance by nightfall, and have come at last to a seedy liitle tavern. Jamethon nods and motions towards the decrepit little two storey pub. A battered sign hangs out front, decorated with the faded image of a woman holding a net.


''This is it, the Frogwife.''

Through the door and into the Frogwife, Ironheart finds himself and Jamethon surrounded by various unsavoury looking types: drunken gap toothed bully-boys, worn out old slatterns, beggarmasters, and other such riff-raff of the town. The common room is lit only by candleight and a tiny, pathetic fire in the brick hearth. The air is redolent with the scents of old sweat, stale beer, and some strange spicy aroma of cooking food- strong but not necessarily unpleasant.

Ironheart knows that Moorkroft is meeting some 'body disposal workers' here tonight.

Jamethon indicates an empty table in one corner of the room.

A solvenly trull who smells of cheap wine approaches Ironheart and grabs his right arm.

''Ohhhh...wanna tumble, big man?''

She is missing a couple of teeth and badly needs to comb her hair. Beyond that, she's not really a bad looking girl. Her dress could use a good laundering- but perhaps Ironheart doesn't care about such things.

[VAN]

Inovidil is really exciting about the ball, seem have passed ages from the last time she has dressed up and gone to a fancy place. So she prepares herself wearing a light blue dress as was a normal guest, of course she gets her badge in her handbag since she was always a militia member.

Then she heads at Lord Ildool's home and tries to spot her companions.

[Lord Skybolt]

Threan and his brother arrive at the party . After being ushered into the hall ."Well, Glim why don't you go and mingle with your magic wielding colleges as I know you want too ." Threan giving Glim a shove in the direction some obvious spell casters in the room . After doing so Threan heads off to were the food is going to be served .

[ewancummins]

Glim thanks Threan and then heads off to chat with a pair of War Wizards.

Threan finds a table of food: dainty sweetmeats, marzipan, pastries, spiced and sliced ham, cold sausages, platters of aromatic cheese wedges, etc. Small plates and folded cloth napkins are available for the use of guests. A servant hangs nearby, ready to assist as may be needed.

Near the food table is the drinks table, which is dominated by a big cut glass punchbowl. A nervous young man in a blue soldier's uniform is alternately sipping punch and scanning the room. He regards Threan with an odd look, blinks, then goes back to draining his punch glass.

[Lord Skybolt]

Threan goes up to the food table and piles great amount of food on a plate for himself . Get's himself some thing strong to wash it all down with . Then to a table to sit down to devour his piled high fixings in peace .