The Shattered City: Chapter Four

[lostboy]

Inspire competence on thievery is up giving everyone a +2 bonus to getting the cords on.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Moving as smoothly as if in time to music, Mercator steps in behind Thierri. Something shines in his hands, and then briefly in the air over the apparition's head...and then it is around Thierri's chest, being drawn tight, a fine silver cord almost seeming to gleam with an inner light. Despite its lightness (in both senses) it seems to carry with it a weight of sorrow, a whisper of the cares of life and the ties that bind one soul to another in shared grief.

[yalenusveler]

Kerrian wasn't exactly known for being the swiftest of people. However somehow he managed to find within himself a reserve of speed, exactly the sort needed to ensnare an aspect of death itself with a conceptual cord, a binding from which hopefully it could not escape. Now to complete the "try not to die" portion of this plan, and all would be well, right?


Right?

[The Whistler]

"And now, my dear Celeste, perhaps it is you finally believe me. I have always told you I am a wicked man, a rabid wolf that plays the role of a tame dog. Death has always had its hooks within me. When I was young, I swore I would give nothing to Death, and anything it tried to take, I would fight him for. But now, we are the same. And Thierri is dead."

“You misapprehend me, Sir.” Celeste sniffled, wiping her eyes, but turning to face him. “My tears…they are not spurred by any such revelation, any glimpse into what you assert to be your truest self. I must assert to you, in the sincerest of terms: no such revelation has taken place. Were that the case, Sir, I should have shied away at our meeting these three days hence, merely upon first witnessing your present aspect—were I such a woman as to think a gentleman’s outer seeming a mirror of his soul! I am no such woman, monsieur. Not even from our earliest acquaintance have I judged you from your appearance, nor for your interests, nor for your profession…but from your actions, Sir. The like of which demonstrated valuation for country, and companionship, and…”

She stepped forward. “I have seen you as a gentleman, Sir, when I feared that you have not seen yourself in such a light. And my tears…oh, I merely regret that now, I may never help you to do so! That such a doleful, such a capricious chain of events may appear to confirm for you everything you most fear about your person, by means of simple happenstance! And that, you should thus risk sacrificing your true self in favor of this merest illusion, and that I…that I should never have the opportunity to show you how wrong you are…”

“I cannot say what the future holds, monsieur: it may stretch for aeons, or it may end in a day. But I cannot—no, I shall not allow your story to be snuffed out before it has even begun.” She extended her hands, holding his in hers. Tightly. “All I ask of you, Sir…Thierri…is that you favor me with that chance.”

36 on Diplomacy! I place the last cord with that, and hopefully am extremely convincing.

[NeoTiamat]

0 Days, 1 Hours, 13 Minutes
Rue Vervain Rookery, Quartier-Ouvrier, Night of April 24th, 770
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Something shines in his hands, and then briefly in the air over the apparition's head...and then it is around Thierri's chest, being drawn tight, a fine silver cord almost seeming to gleam with an inner light.

Kerrian wasn't exactly known for being the swiftest of people. However somehow he managed to find within himself a reserve of speed, exactly the sort needed to ensnare an aspect of death itself with a conceptual cord, a binding from which hopefully it could not escape.

There was a sharp hissing noise, like steam through a vent - the hissing of the wraiths, which you could still see superimposed over Thierri's form, or perhaps it was Thierri superimposed over them. You fell upon Death, placing ephemeral cords that seemed to sit upon him heavier than they should have. The wraiths snapped at your hands, and the heat around him was unbearable, like the inside of a furnace. Death himself had reacted too slow to prevent the cords from being placed upon him; now that they were on, it seemed he could not take them off. Yet despite the obvious aggression and anger from the spirits, Death did not strike back.

“I cannot say what the future holds, monsieur: it may stretch for aeons, or it may end in a day. But I cannot—no, I shall not allow your story to be snuffed out before it has even begun.” She extended her hands, holding his in hers. Tightly. “All I ask of you, Sir…Thierri…is that you favor me with that chance.”

Thierri the Mage could teleport; indeed, it had been one of the first things he'd done when meeting Celeste. It was presumable to imagine Death had its own set of talents. But neither Thierri nor Death acted as Celeste slipped the final cord around him. Perhaps he could not push her away, perhaps he allowed it, perhaps he simply didn't notice anymore. He instead looked at her with the expression of a man deeply feverish. His mind and his soul had been ravaged by wraiths and black magic. Now his final bastion, his words, seemed to have fled him, leaving him with nothing but a raw, blazing emotion.

He stepped forward, gently pulling her hands toward him, and leaned in to kiss her on the lips.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Do it!" Lia shouts, waving her illuminated staff over her head. "Do it now!"

(OOC: I refer to activating the stones, of course. Who knows how to do that? ^^; )

[Nerit]

Nerit had already started by the time Lia made the command. Celeste was appropriately occupied, and thus she went about her business, though not without a smirk at Death and the Maiden.

With two fingers she touched the stone bearing a familiar symbol, and whispered, "Breath."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia herself leaps on another stone, already stripping off one of her gloves and half-tripping over her staff in her haste. "Blood!" she shouts as she hunches over the stone, cloak falling over her arm and the stone as she squats. All unseen under the black cloth, her fingers touch the stone.

[The Whistler]

Celeste may have had a somewhat ill-defined relationship with M. Boucher; she may have had a poor opinion of Well-Bred Young Ladies who Engaged in Pre-Marital Advances; she may have been aware of all of the people observing her; she may have…

Screw it.

The distinguished residents of the Chateau Malchance watched as Celeste Mirielle Viardot, late of Bienassis, became the first person in recorded history to kiss Death right on the mouth.

…For quite some time.

Funny. You weren’t aware that this was the right time of year for the Aurora Borealis.

[Kaitou Kage]

Rex hadn't left the last rune he placed. When he heard the others calling the runes, touched his latest deposit.

"Ash," he whispered. A little amusing to him, given that most of his clothes were as dark as ash.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Even the brief acquaintance those present have had with Mercator Melanchthon has been sufficient to show that he does not, as a general rule, lose his composure. Most of the bizarre things which have occurred in the last seventy-two hours have seen him maintain an imperturbably correct manner and very little overt show of emotion.

Standing just behind a man clinched in a passionate embrace is, apparently, not one of the things he can meet imperturbably. Under the circumstances, he can hardly move away, or even look away; he therefore favors the back of Thierri's head with a thousand-yard stare, still keeping his hands with the cord gripped firmly in them at chest level. A hint of red shows in his pale cheeks.

[yalenusveler]

Kerrian held onto the cord binding death for dear life, and was doing his level best to politely NOT watch the passionate kiss going on in front of him. Not because of any any embarrassment at the public display of nigh on radiant affection that Celeste was putting on, but because that was the sort of thing that was a private moment even when on display in public.

Of course, this meant seeing the "I'm not seeeing this!" flush on the good doctor's face, the sort of thing that couldn't help but bring a small smile of amusement. Stranger things after all happen in the Dead Travel Fast romances.

Not that Kerrian had read them.

All of them.

several times

each

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia scrambles on to the next stone, uncovered hand wrapped in a fold of her cloak, and hunches over it. "Dust!" the Mage incants as her fingers touch the rune.

[Kaitou Kage]

Rex seemed to take Lia's cue and skulked to the final stone.

"Bone."

[NeoTiamat]

Rue Vervain Rookery, Quartier-Ouvrier, Night of April 24th, 770
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"Bone."

That was the final element. Four cords were to bind him, although one cord was Celeste. Five stones were to capture him. The spell that Inkeri Halvari had prepared in the depths of the Midnight Market took final form now, pulling Thierri’s tattered soul away from this anthropomorphic personification of death. The results were noticeable, to say the least.

His arms still around Celeste, his lips locked to hers, a sudden shudder passed through Thierri Boucher. His flesh went cold and clammy in the space of a heartbeat, and his eyes rolled up in their sockets. The magician’s entire body went limp, and were it not for the cords wrapped around him he would have collapsed. As it was, he merely crumpled forward against Celeste. For when one is Death, one is not greatly concerned with the requirements of Life. Four days without sleep, without food, without even water all caught up with Thierri in the time it would have taken to draw a breath. And that was without counting the other effects of Inkeri’s ritual.

You could see the wraiths rising up, straining against Thierri’s skin from the inside. Queer, birdlike creatures, neither spirit nor ghost but something separate. They pulled at him, and then all in a rush, they pulled away from Thierri, rising up into a great swarm above his head. They were as countless as the fish in the sea or the leaves on the trees, an unholy patrimony left by Poincare’s ritual in the catacombs. They flocked and circled around Thierri, a vortex of wraiths and specters and spooks.

It lasted only a moment, for then the wraiths turned, all as one, and headed for Lia Mournswaithe. Or to be more exact, for the box that Andre had prepared earlier and given to her. The box jumped and twisted out of Lia’s grip, meeting the approaching wraiths in mid-air. There was a great rush of wind, though peculiarly soundless for all its color and light, and the wraiths entered the box, a thousand or more spirits pouring into the wooden prison that Andre’s magic had constructed.

Silence reigned. Thierri swayed where he stood, more dead than alive but nevertheless unmistakably, undoubtedly alive. And the wraiths, the essence that was Death, was trapped. Silence reigned.

Whereupon the box was promptly snatched up by a dark grey streak of fur. A cat had appeared from the shadows, racing across the ground with feline speed, and as it passed the box of spirits the box was grabbed up as though by invisible hands and pulled after the cat. Roughly, the box was shoved into what looked like a leather satchel on the beast’s back, tied with stout sailors’ knots.

“Do excuse me.” Your Friend’s sardonic voice said, as the cat raced away.

VIEW CONTENT:

Challenge: Catch That Cat!
Chasing the cat – Athletics (High DC)
Figuring out where the cat is going and coming up with a shortcut – Streetwise (Medium DC)
Shooting the cat – Same as a normal attack, no special systems for this.

The cat is at present two ‘Lengths’ ahead of you. Successful checks close the distance, unsuccessful ones increase it. If the cat is ever four ‘Lengths’ ahead of you, the cat escapes.

Challenge: Save Thierri!
Giving Thierri medical attention – Heal (High DC)
Figure out what is wrong with Thierri – Arcana or Religion (Medium DC)

Powers that would allow another person to spend one of their healing surges do not work in this situation (Lay on Hands or similar surge-transferral systems would work). Each round, Thierri loses a quarter of his hitpoints, until and unless he is stabilized.

Characters who embark upon one challenge are unable to participate in the other (so if you chase after the cat, you can’t go and give Thierri medical attention, and vice versa). As always, appropriate use of powers can grant bonuses or automatic successes on rolls.