DA:V Durham

[Monney Dhoo]

A few things:
Firstly sorry for such a long railroading start, but I wanted to start with everyone in one place and provide a good reason for it.

When doing speech can you use coloured text, a different colour for each character, I will use the other colours for NPCs. Though the NPC colours will not be consistant over the entire game, I will try to keep it the same for each scene.

Could you please start your posts by describing yourself and saying what you are doing at the end of the introduction


For Characters who's haven is away from Durham:


A dark spring night you are out hunting. The streets are deserted. The air ways heavy with thunder. As you wandered the streets the heaven opened. Just before you gave up on the hunt you see and hobbled old man staggers drunkenly out of a shack. After the poor pickings of the night combined with the greatly deteriorating weather it looks like this is your only chance to feed tonight. You size the victim and pull him in to the shadows of a gap between the wooden shacks. As your fangs sink in the old man's neck a figure coalesces out of the darkness. His hands wrap around your neck. With little effort he flips you across the back street. You slide in the streets filth spraying mud in to the air. You lie there stunned for a few seconds, looking at the figure all you can see in the dark is the silhouette and red eyes with pupils slightly oval. A rough voice calls out from the dark. 'You will be in Undercroft of Durham Castle on by Maundy Thursday, otherwise you will see the sun on Easter Monday.' Lightning flashes in the sky overhead, your eyes fill with spots. Once your vision returns all you can see are the old shacks around you and the crumpled figure of the old man on the floor beside you. You also feel a small wooden object laying on your chest, it is a carved sigil about the size of the palm of your hand. From touch it feels like a large bird followed by 3 smaller objects. When viewed in light it becomes clear that it is a swan followed by 3 signets. (f you have ever been to the Durham court or have any knowledge of local Caneites you would realise that it is the sigil of Prince William of Durham.


If character's haven is close enough to Durham to be at court regularly:


Over the past few weeks when you attend court you have started to hear rumours of a major event which will happen soon within the court, no one who is willing to speak will say anything at all, but there are a few theories made by gossiping Caneites. One night when you arrive at court you see the heavy set figure of Ragnor, the sheriff and hound conversing with the Prince, before suddenly turning and barging his way to the stairs out of the castles Undercroft, where he slowly shifts form taking on the shape of a large fox, grizzled and ragged and he shoots out through the bailey and disappears. Te prince almost immediately withdraws from the Undercroft and heads off deeper in to the castle towards his private quarters. For the next few nights at court the Prince is not present, but the Lady Analisa is often found making small talk with the Caneites gathered. One of the nights she comes over to you and in a soft continental accent makes some small talk for a few minutes and once the conversation is relaxed, she asks “Have you heard these rumours that the Prince will be holding an event soon?” Whatever your response to this question she flows on to inform you, “Yes, the rumours are true, I cannot say more, but would be most glad if you would ensure your presence at court on the night of Maundy Thursday. The Prince would be most disappointed if anyone was to fail to attend and you know who Ragnor gets when the Prince is disappointed.” With this her short frame dips slightly in a curtsy and she turns away towards another Caneite.


Moonlight bathes the dilapidated shacks which lie at the ford across the River Wear as you cross, upon entering the village there is no no movement except for plants in small fields around the village swinging gently in the wind. A single wide path worn by many feet led up the hill winding to find the easiest climb. The path was sodden with the heavy rain of the last week, your feet slip and slide.

As you near the summit you reach a 20ft wooden palisade, a wall of tree trunks impaled in the earth, the bark wind worn and cracked, except for the top, where each trunk is sharpened to a fresh point. Where the path meets the palisade, planks a wooden gate barely large enough to take a horse and rider walking side by side. Either side of the door stand two men at arms, heavy set men clad in chain mail, and short swords hanging by their sides. Beside them stand two torches thrust in the ground, standing about two yards high. Upon seeing you one of the guards slams his arms in to the door three times. Even if you try to to engage the guards in conversation they do not respond beyond knocking initially.

After a minute or so the door swings open from the inside. Within stands a large figure lit only by the torches. The figure is even more heavily built than the guards, with long flame red hair hanging shaggily to his shoulders. As the light flickers you notice that the pupils of his eyes were slightly oval almost like they were starting to tend towards cats eyes. If you have been to the Durham court you would recognise the figure as Ragnor, the Sheriff of Durham and hound of the Prince, otherwise you would get the feeling that he was the figure who attacked you and invited you to attend this night.

"Welcome to Durham, I will take you through to where the Prince is holding Court"

He turns and walks through the door. Within the palisade you see an expansive green lit by sparsely spread torches, to your left stands the shadow of the Cathedral with dim couloured lights flickering through the stained glass windows and beyond the Durham Monastery with small torches breaching through the windows. To your right stands the castle with a stone wall surrounding it, two massive fires bracket the gate, with groups of men at arms huddled close to the fire. Above the wall you can see the light from a few windows in the tower of the castle.

The figure walks briskly towards the gate. The men at arms look up him and after a few seconds return to their conversations. He walks up to the gate in the door and pushes it wide open to reveal the courtyard. He stalks round the edge of the courtyard to a recess. When you get close to the recess you see stone steps going down to a large wooden door hidden in the shadows. As your guide reaches the bottom of the stairs he throws open the door. Within the undercroft there was a juxtaposition of dingy dungeon usually found beneath a castle, with beautiful art and finely dressed individuals you would expect in the great hall of the castle above. Once you enter through the door your guide walks straight back out of it and closes it behind you.

Within the undercroft about a dozen individuals are circulating, some have formed groups and seem to be almost closed off to the rest present, others stand against the walls alone, watching the room. A petit woman moves through the room talking to each group or individual for a short while. Even the most insular group accepts her without question and treats her with respect.

After a few minutes she comes over to you. She either introduces her self as Lady Analisa du Bruge, or greets you by name if she knows you. She inquires how you are and thanks you for attending before sweeping off to talk to another.

Feel free to ask any questions or to start talking to any of the caneites present

[Gig_Complex]

Millardo Lovecraft

Millardo stands a couple of inches above those of the land and though the undeath pallor has removed the light from his blue eyes and taken the shine from his midnight black hair. Though his dress is made of finer cloths it is more in line with either a well to do merchant or lesser noble then those of his former station.

The trek from his manor had been a short one, one which Millardo had grown accustomed to these last few decades he called Durham county his home. Though he rarely liked to leave his studies behind he knew that in order to keep his position and not lose what little he had managed to gather he had need of attending, and when Lady Analisa brought Prince William's request Millardo was smart enough to know to come.

As usual Millardo kept his mouth shut when alone in the presence of Ragnor, though not one to fear easily, especially after his embrace, Ragnor was more animal then kindred and was an oddity amongst the court. Though to be honest, Millardo never assumed that Ragnor would be capable of an intelligent conversation.

Arriving with little notice from the others gathered, Millardo returns the greeting from Lady Analisa before inquiring before she moved off to the others,

So my lady is there any chance at a hint as to what the Prince has gathered us for or are your lips still sealed as to the matter?

Afterwards Millardo seeks the most open of the groups, making idle chatter at first before asking,

Have any of you an insight as to why the Prince has gathered us all tonight? The Lady Analisa has kept rather quiet about the subject, though who can blame her if the Prince has asked her to keep quiet?

[Ilora]

The little gypsy girl walked towards the palisade, bare feet in the cold damp mud, other hand carefully holding up her skirts so they don't get soiled. Even in the most careful efforts, the damp still creeps up around the bottom edge of the skirt, about an inch.

She waits silently as the guards knock, and then gives them the briefest of nods in thanks, before she stops in front of Ragnor. As he speaks, she just nods her head, and says briefly, "Thank you." It's always a little disconcerting to hear English spoken perfectly through such obviously foreign lips.

The little gypsy girl arrived fairly early, at least early enough to snag a seat, in which she just waits. Black eyes watch the arrivals, and occasionally watch Analisa dance from one to the other about the room, marking her manner with each one. Her purple shawl is tugged tightly around her, her hands calmly in her lap, as she is carving a small circular piece of stone, the sort that the metalsmiths use for casting. It appears to be a mandala of some sort, and fairly intricate.

As Analisa makes her way over to her, a brief nod is exchanged, along with a murmured, "I have no questions. You have many guests."

When the scholar arrives, she gives him a longer look than most, as if considering a question, but decides to leave it until an opportunity arises. Especially as many more kindred are slowly filling into the room, and seats are becoming a rarity.

[ybn1197]

Apolinary Woznica
Apolinary approaches the gates and waits for them to be opened; refusing to enter into conversation with the guards as he already knew they would not answer. Few people ever did given his stature but he had come to accept this long ago and had even learned to use it to his advantage at times. As the gates opened, Apolinary made to step inside but he came up short by the presence of Ragnor. He had not forgotten the bruises the big man had given him. He would not forgive Ragnor either, but a comparison of their physical seizes showed it would not matter in the long run, so Apolinary meerly kept his gaze averted and silently followed the sheriff.
Inside the castle, Apolinary found an empty section of wall and stood, observing the finery about him. He felt no shame in the differences between their finery and his, even though his finery was little better than a peasant's church going rags. It meant nothing to him. He had what he had and that would have to suite them as they were the ones to summon him here. But one day he would have more. One day he would be able to dress in the same finery that they did.
When the Lady Analisa du Bruge approached, Apolinary did his best to bow in courtly manner, but his inexperience easily showed through. Still, he did manage to stutter a "Thank You" and a "Fine" before she moved on to her other guests. He continued to watch the other guests as they moved about. The scholar drew little more attention than the rest of the guests, but the woman in the color skirts did catch Apolinary's eye. A Rom, thought Apolinary. Even here on this island they have managed to insinuate themselves.

[Monney Dhoo]

In response to Millardo's question, Lady Analisa shifted her he slightly to her left while looking considerately at Milardo.

Ah, Milardo, This is the Prince's suprise and it would be improper for any but him to reveal it.

As Millardo joins one of the groups in the Undercroft, they look at him suspiciously for a few seconds before resuming their conversation. While Milrdo was in the group the conversation was almost totally inane, with nothing of importance discussed until Millardo inquired about the Court called by the Prince. Politely they all denied knowing what the Prince had planned, one commentating that he had never known any occurance of the like in his time at the Durham Court.

[Gig_Complex]

Millardo

Smiling slightly at the lady's response Millardo lets out a small laugh before saying his farewells.

Please forgive my forwardness my lady, but when I see a bit of information just out of reach I feel compelled to try and reach it.

After listening to the idle chatter of his fellow kindred and the fruitless search for info regarding the intentions of their host, Millarod excused himself from their group to take up one of the open seats while awaiting for the Prince to make his entrance. While doing so he notices the child like Kindred who had recently entered, Why would the Prince invite the child? I had assumed he was not welcome at the court.. As his eyes wander through the crowd he notices the gypsy sitting quietly at a table much like his own. The Prince seems to have gathered some of the more eccentric of our kind amongst all the chafe that seems to fill his court. As he notices the woman's sigils and personal effects he recognizes each as being of an occult bent, if not their actual meaning and having rarely seen the gypsy before intrigued him even more so.

I'm assuming that three dots in Occult would give me at least some basic knowledge about Vadiy's occult belongings

[Stycotl]

Faqri Fakhri: "Brahmdev Guduhr"

"Thank you, sirs." Brahmdev says as he nods respectfully to the gate guards. Then he turns his head to Ragnor and bows slightly, "Good evening."

With that, Brahmdev follows the large man into the bowels of the castle, quiet, graceful, and serene.

Brahmdev is a willowy man of Asian descent, his exact heritage questionable to those unfamiliar with the cultures. He stands at just over five and a half feet tall, trim and sharp-featured, with dark skin, black hair, and dark eyes. He is immacultately clean and manicured, and even after the muddy approach to the castle, only the bottoms of his riding boots are dirty. He wears simple but well-maintained clothes of wool to keep out the chill weather, of soft gays and blacks.

With a respectful bow, he greets the lady at her approach, and in his excellent English, barely marred by a Punjabi accent, wishes her a lovely evening.

Left to himself, Brahmdev casts his eyes about for a seat from which he could observe the gathering, and makes his way to an open chair. En route, he sees the Rom girl and nods her way. "Namaste."

[Monney Dhoo]

After about half an hour, Lady Analisa has welcomed everybody to Court and answered a few questions as well as she is able in the circumstances. The main door from the courtyard crashes open, moonlight shining bathed the stairs in silver. Ragnor stormed down the stairs as the doors slam shut behind him. At the bottom of the stairs he stopped for a few seconds, looking round until he saw Lady Analisa, upon making eye contact with her he nodded to her and slipped quietly to a guard position by the door. Lady Analisa made her way to a door by the dais, and slipped out back in to the castle.

After 10 or so minutes the door by the Dais opened again and through it came Lady Analisa accompanied by two figures, one tall and muscularly built clad in fine wool pantaloons, soft leather boots reaching to his knees and a finely cut royal blue, linen shirt covered by well made steel chain mail shirt, by his hip hangs a short sword in bejewelled silk sheath. The other figure meanwhile is a plump man wearing a monk's cassock in brown, in spite of his girth the monk's face looks emaciated and pale rather than pink plumpness you would have expected. Around his neck hangs a simple carved wooden cross.

If you are familiar with the Durham court you will recognise the figures as William Prince of Durham and Father Marcel one of the Prince's chief advisors.

The group climbs on the dais and positions themselves by the seats there. The Price Gestures to the monk to step forward. As he does so both the Prince and Lady Analisa lower their kneel down and lower their heads. At this all the other vampires in the room do likewise except for Ragnor who remains standing by the door.

How do you react here?

More will appear later.

[Monney Dhoo]

The monk looks across the room giving each present a quick glance, anybody remaining standing (except Ragnor) get a longer glance.

“Welcome my Children, In a few moments my Prince will reveal more about this auspicious occasion, but first he has requested that I lead us in Prayer to our Lord.

Dear Lord, We are humble in thy presence and pray that thy curse placed upon our forebears will prove to be a blessing in our service of thee and that our sacrifices will help to shape the world as thy see fit. We pray that thee will lift the curse you have placed on us and allow us to ascend to sit by your side in Heaven. Lord please bless Prince William and all those who serve him. Glory to he whose word is Law. Amen”

The Monk then retreats back his seat at the edge of the dais and is seated. At this the Price and Lady Analisa raise their heads from prayer, and stand closely followed by the crowd. Lady Analisa takes her seat on the opposite side of the Dais to the Monk, with the centre seat left for the Prince.

The Prince then stepped forwards to the front of the Dais.

“Welcome Friends, Vassals and new acquaintances. Thank you all for attending tonight for this celebration. One knows you must all be curious as to why ye all have been summoned here. In fact my good Lady here tells me that she was questioned politely by many of ye while welcoming ye to tonight's proceedings.

Tonight we gather to celebrate a special anniversary and to prepare for a second more memorable occasion. None here but my council were present at either of these occasions and many of you were yet to be born n'er mind embraced at such a time.
Tonight, mine companions, is the 150th anniversary of one's rise to Prince. On this night 150 years ago one's Liege Lord Prince John of York gifted one with domain of Durham and Northumberland and raised one to Prince of that Domain.

Though this is a memorable and important for one, an auspicious event will occur soon to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the first court to be held for the domain of Durham and Northumberland. In three months time dignitaries from much of England will be attending a celebration in the Great Hall above us here in Durham Castle. Attending will be many of my fellow Princes of England, my Liege Lord Prince John and most importantly the Great Lord Mithras, Monarch of the Baronies of Avalon.

Once tonight's celebrations are done preparation must begin in earnest for celebration. One has many tasks which require completion. On the morrow work by the local serfs will commence on a new bridge and road to bring the guests across the Weir and to our gates, and arrangements for the security of our guests must be made. But enough of such talk for now, discussions of this sort are better left for whence the celebrations are dying down as the dawn approaches. I will be inviting many of you to converse with me and my council to request your aid in some areas. But for now let the celebrations commence”

With this he clapped his hands together and the two doors leading deeper in to the castle open. Through this a couple of Ghouls lead two lines of serfs, though at first you might mistake them for human courtiers by their cleanliness and clothes, but their movements and weather beaten faces betray their origins.

“For ye pleasure mine guests.”

The Prince then withdraws back to his seat and enters in to conversation with Lady Analisa and Father Marcel.

Do you feed?

I would also suggest take this opportunity to converse with your fellow PCs before I force you together

[Ilora]

Vadiy the Gypsy

The little gypsy just continues her carving of the little block of stone, finishing it as the others mill about in conversation she either disdains or fears to join. Either way, when it is finished, she inspects it carefully, blows the excess dust away, and then bites a finger. She lets the blood drip into the carving in the stone, smearing it over the entire surface of the carving, before she wraps it up in a small leather pouch, carved all over with mystic sigils and hides it away in the folds of her dress.

When she looks up again, it's with those wary black eyes moving around the room again with the nervous watchfulness of a cat in a room full of dogs. When she catches Millardo looking at her, she stares back for a moment, before she makes the gesture common folk whisper repels the Evil Eye. Strange thing to do in a room full of vampires, isn't it? Maybe it's his finery that makes her worry about him cursing her.. Or perhaps she caught his look and suspects the reason? After all, poor gypsies have little about them that typically interests the gentry. Possibly not quite so far a leap of logic.

When the Punjabi greets her, she responds with a half bow, palms together, and a returned, "Namaste." Her accent mimics his, with a startling success. Apparently the little gypsy has an ear for languages.

As the Prince and his cohorts return, she folds her hands in her lap and gives them her utmost attention. When the call for prayer is mentioned, she moves to her knees just as quickly, and looks just as devout as any in the room. Whether or not it's sincere is hard to say. Perhaps she just doesn't feel the need to draw any negative attention for impiety.

When the Amen is said however, she's right back in her seat, almost too quickly to have really paused for religious reflection.

As the Prince speaks, she listens, though nothing shows on her face at the news, though there is just the quickest flash of ~that's it?~ that runs through her mind.

And then there's a buffet! Well, at least the food is good. A gypsy never passes up free anything. Especially food. She chooses a particularly blond male specimen, and moves towards a wall. Just a sip really.. A pint or two, nothing serious, but enough to last for a few days.

[Stycotl]

Brahmdev too kneels for the prayer, eyes on the floor the whole time. He rises and listens to the annoucements with interest. Important guests? His mind wanders to the possibility of his clan taking more than his own passing interest in the arrival of such important European cainites. He wonders how long he has until he is called to act against the very brothers and sisters with whom he sits in celebration tonight.

[Gig_Complex]

Millardo Lovecraft

While waiting for the prince to make his appearance Millardo noticed the small gesture of protection made by the gypsy woman, something that brought a small smile to his lifeless lips. This smile, which he carried for a few more moments, quickly disappeared when he saw the foreign kindred. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen him prior and each time he felt...odd and Millardo could have sworn to have seen signs of something else but could never lay a finger on it.

When the Prince enters the room with Father Marcel Millardo follows suit with the majority of the court and takes a knee, keeping his head down to hide the corners of his lips curling up into a smile. Raising from his knee Millardo's eyes trace the movement of Father Marcel, namely the cross the kindred kept on his chest letting out a small smile as he noticed the cross bore a small crack at the midsection and seemed to have been smoldered at the edges now before turning to his prince.

Once the Prince has made his piece, a thoughtful smile crosses Millardo's face as he thinks to himself. So the Great Mithras his coming here himself, no wonder the Prince has called us all here he will have need to make a good impression. Though I must wonder why he has specifically chosen each us, there are some here who shouldn't have anything to offer if their appearances hold true.

When the kine were herded into the room Millardo's face broke into perhaps the first true smile of the night, as well as being the first time to feed for the night. Approaching one of the more comely peasant girls Millardo lets his cold finger trace her face momentarily before he drains her to nearly the point of collapse leaving her with enough strength to stand but barely more then that. Licking his lips, never the one to waste a precious drop, Millardo tidies himself before he makes his way to the gypsy after she has finished feeding for the moment,

Excuse me miss, but I don't believe that I have had the pleasure of meeting you on a night prior.

Extending a hand Millardo has a charming smile on his face that speaks of the position he once held,

My name is Millardo Lovecraft, minor court adviser, scholar, and historian. I couldn't help but notice your...peculiar dress and must say that I haven't seen you at court before. I have a feeling that we could possibly have much in common.

[ybn1197]

Apolinary Woznica

Apolinary remained in his seat, kicking his legs around as all children do when they are bored but know there is nowhere to go. He watched the procession of Kindred moving in and about, avoiding him as if he carried the plague. He was content to stay on the fringes, it meant they didn't interfere in his doings.

As the monk and the Prince entered the hall, Apolinary follwed the queue from the others and bowed down. He had no idea who the monk was but he was aware of who the Prince was. He had only met him once, when he first came to Durham and presented himself, but he knew the Prince was a powerful man and Apolinary had no wish to cross him. As the monk led the group in prayer, Apolinary glanced up and around at the assemblage. What religion he knew was taught to him by his mortal parents and had little impact on his pre-embraced days. Now that he was one of the damned, it held even less sway on him, but he joined along with it only so as not to offend the court.

As the Prince made his announcements, Apolinary could barely contain a smirk. What pomp and circumstance, he thought to himself. Like the peacocks he observed in Italy, they all strut and prance about for their indulgance. The name Prince John meant nothing to him, but he had heard of Mithras from his brief stay in London. He had never been presented to the ruler of London, but was aware of the man and his power.

As the surfs were brought in, Apolinary waited his turn till others had selected their meals. He grabbed the first one still available and drank deeply. What the surf looked like didn't matter. Food was food. It was sustinance and that was all. But he knew the rules and laws and only drank his fill, leaving the surf alive.

His hunger sated, he made his way to the dark skinned man. His knew of some of the cultures to the east of Europe but was curious as to where the man hailed from. And being from another culture, he may be less condensending than others from his own. It also helped that the man was more in line with Apolinary's own height, and he would not have to look up as high to meet the man's eyes.

"Evening traveller, my name is Apolinary," he said in first Magyar (Hungarian) and then English.

[Stycotl]

Brahmdev watches as the small cainite approaches. He nods in greeting, and greets him in Punjabi-accented English.

"A pleasure to meet you. I am called Brahmdev."

[Ilora]

Vadiy

The dark eyes watch Millardo approach, with that hooded suspicion that is part and parcel of the standard gypsy expression. "No, my lord, in fact you have not had the pleasure of meeting me. I am seldom at court, since I am not comfortable with deception and politics." Her low contralto is pleasant to listen to, her English tinged with traces of Birmingham accent. It's disconcerting, like watching a monkey sing like a bird or a dog meow like a cat.

"If you are referring to particular occultic interests, then you may be correct, and we may have some things in common." She continues idly, as she holds out her hand gracefully, palm down. If it's an imitation of how she's seen gentility behave, it's an excellent one. It'd be more effective if her hand was cleaner. "I admit I have considered your acquaintance, mostly on the reputation of your library."

Her eyes flick nervously around the room once, pausing at the child and his choice of conversational companion, before coming back to Millardo's face. "But perhaps now is not a convenient time to speak of such things."

[Stycotl]

Brahmdev's eyes flicker across those gathered, lingering for a moment on the Toreador princess, before returning to the strange child before him.

[Stycotl]

Brahmdev accidentally *bumps* the table beside his seat, setting the floral arrangement to shaking. He grins sheepishly at the smaller cainite as he catches the vase and steadies it.

[Gig_Complex]

Millardo

Taking Vadiy's hand, much as he would any lady of the court, before speaking again,

It is quite a shame then, the court of Durham is far less treacherous then the few others I have attended, but this one can not fault you for wishing to stay out of the politicos maneuvers as even I find them dry at times.

At the mention of his library Millardo shows a proud smile,

Ah yes you must visit some time then, while it is not as great as some of those I visited in my travels I have managed to acquire a good many texts and would love to trade knowledge with you should the opportunity arise. But you are correct, present circumstances may not be the best enviroment for picking one another's brain. I bid you adieu then but should you ever sick to talk just seek me out I am always willing to talk.

Edit: Closed Tags

[Stycotl]

Brahmdev looks toward the east, as if he can feel the inexorable approach of dawn even through the impenetrable walls of the Durham dungeons.

[Monney Dhoo]

After a few hours the cele bration started to die down, the first hint of this was when all the remaining vessels withdrew back in to the castle, though many whom had already been fed from left earlier in the night.

If anybody wanted to try to leave before this point they would have been approached by either Lady Analisa or Ragnor. Depending on which one approached you you would either be told that:

Ah my friend, the night is still but early and the Prince was hoping to have a word with you 'fore the night is done

or threatened:

I woul'n't be leavin' if I were you, tha Prince were wantin' a word with you soon, and we woul'n't be wanting to di'appoint him woul' we.

respectively.

Not long after the vessels leave a few of the local Caneite's of the court seem to be preparing to leave for the night, but about this time you are approached by Father Marcel (either individually or in whatever groups you are in, if you are talking with NPCs he will request a quiet word with you).

'Good Evening, I trust you are enjoying our little celebration?' without waiting for a response he continues "If we have met before I must apologise, but I do not recall. I am Father Marcel of clan Cappadocian, a member of the Prince's council and one of his chief advisers and Priest of God". He then allows to introduce yourself back.

"Ah, very good, it was you I was seeking to have a word with. The Prince was wishing to have a Private word with you [both/all], so I would ask that if you could go through the door to the left of the dais a servant will show you through to the Library" He then bows and wishes you good night as he moves off to talk to other Caneites in attendance.

[Stycotl]

Brahmdev's eyebrows raise curiously and he thanks the father for the news. Then he looks to the child cainite and simply shrugs.

"I wonder what this will be about."

With a sigh, Brahmdev stands, using a slight smile of pleasure to hide his nervous bewilderment, and walks toward the door beside the dias, and into the library.

[ybn1197]

Apolinary Woznica

Apolinary looks up at Brahmdev. "Your guess is as good as mine. Never before have they even acknowledge my presence, let alone attempt to talk to me. Now the Prince wants a word. I fear for what the future may hold for us."

Apolinary follows Brahmdev into the library.

[Gig_Complex]

Millardo Lovecraft

As Father Marcel approaches him the smile Millardo has been carrying for the majority of the night disappears as the kindred enters his personal space. At the mention of the prince requiring his presence Millardo simply nods and looks around at the others the supposed holy man talks to before making his way to the door.

[Ilora]

(apologies for the delay. I've been in hospital with pneumonia.)

Vadiy

At his statement regarding the Durham's court political stability, she raises her eyebrows in a silent statement of cynical disbelief, even as she murmurs, "Well, that's reassuring."

She nods at his invitation, and says, "Indeed, I shall take you up on your generous offer at a later time." She sounds quite positive about that, almost eager, with perhaps the first real emotion tinging her tones.

As the priest approaches, she crosses herself and curtseys deeply. Some of the more occultic symbols like the Eye of Ra, and the Hebrew star have disappeared inside her clothes, thanks to a very quick hand. She shivers once, and then starts heading towards the indicated door quickly, after plastering a serene expression on her face. With a trowel.

[Monney Dhoo]

Sorry about the delay with this, I got caught with a lot of work last week and have exams this week. I will either make the next post tomorrow or Thursday.

Upon exiting the Undercroft, you are confronted by a pair of male servants, one wearing a monks cowl, hiding his features and the other expensive looking pantaloons and chemise, with fine embroidery at the cuffs. As you walk through the door, the finely dressed servant, who seems likely a human squire or even a knight, speaks to you.

Good Evening, I have been asked to escort a group of guests to his Lordships private study, so we will await the arrival of all those I am to escort. If it pleases you to take a seat or if you have any questions, though my knowledge of this situation is quite minimal, feel free.
He gestures at three seats in the small hall by the door.
He answers all your questions as well as he can, but is unabled to answer anything on Caneite matters, and has no idea why you were summoned.


Can everyone roll perception-empathy.

When all of you have exited the Undercroft, he looks over you all one by one, and speaks again.

I believe all those required are now present, so let us make haste.

He bows to the cowled figure, who leads off through the dimly lit halls of the castle. Even here everywhere is finely furnished. Expensive looking tapestries hang on many walls, but the rest of the decoration has military functions, from seemingly decorative swords.

Perception roll if you succeed you notice wind coming from behind many of the tapestries on your right hand side

After a few minutes winding walk you come to a spiral staircase seemingly set in a tower, the servants lead you down the staircase and through a door on the first landing.

Passing through the door you find a small study with no windows. The room is dominated by a massive Oak desk standing in the middle of the room, all but splitting it in half, a half dozen chairs sit on your side of the desk, all are small and appear very uncomfortable. On the other side of the desk there is a finely crafted large chair also solid wood, but crafted to be comfortable. Beyond the chair there is a large oak door, embellished with cold iron. On the walls there are shelves, these mostly contain rolls o parchment, but among them stand a few books. Also hanging on the wall is a fine map of England and southern Scotland. If you look closer you would notice that it is a very fine silk tapestry.

On the desk there lies a simpler line map drawn on parchment, along with a few rolls of parchment and a feather quill.

If you would all be seated the Prince will be with you shortly.

The squire and the monk then walk back out the door.

[Stycotl]

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=4177816#post4177816
perception+empathy faqri, perception3, empathy0
(1d10)[6]
(1d10)[5]
(1d10)[4]

Brahmdev nods politely and takes a seat, gazing at the hand-drawn map and seeing if he can identify the terrain from where he sits.

[Stycotl]

what was the diff of the perception roll?

[ybn1197]

Apolinary Woznica
Perception 3 + Empathy 2
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

Apolinary takes a seat with the others, swinging his feet as he waits impatiently.

[Gig_Complex]

Millardo

Tilting his head slightly at the sight of the others who were joining him to meet with the prince Millardo seems puzzled at first but the momentary lapse in concentration disappears as he follows the servants to the chamber.

1d10=2, 1d10=1, 1d10=8, 1d10=8 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1565769/)

[Stycotl]

Brahmdev looks around curiously, wondering about the others that have been called. "I am Brahmdev. From the East. It is a pleasure to make the acquaintance of you all."

Then he looks around conspiritorially, "So, are any of you aware of what we have been called down here for?"