The Troubles of Exsanguination

[Sir Dancealot]

Verilious:

The woman stands before you. She's shorter than you, but you know that means nothing. You've seen her fight, and it was as beautiful a scene as the woman herself. She makes you almost think that a woman's place could be the battlefield. Almost. But that doesn't matter, as she seems to be talking to you. "Verilious, I need your assistance with a situation. There has been a problem down by the docks in Warehouse 97-V. In a testament to your skill, I will allow you to deal with this situation as you see fit. While you are skilled in certain things, various others you are not." With that, she pulls a large purse from her satchel, handing to you. "Inside is fifty gold crowns, they are for your use in acquiring assistance. I would recommend going to the Watch outpost and finding their best investigator. You will also most likely need the assistance of a medical professional. Find one of the good ones, not one of the street-corner schmucks walking about. You'll need these papers to deal with the watch, and the other to deal with the Black Guard stationed by the Warehouse. Do well, and we'll see if we can't get you knighted within the year." Smiling, she hands you two sets of papers, one white, the other an ebon black. It's fairly obvious which one if for the Black Guard. You stand at the threshold of the Temple of Morr, your life is currently unwatched, as it has been few times before.


Calvin, Nikolaus, Morgrund:

The three of you sit around a small table, the tavern bustling about you. Currently, Calvin is off duty, Nikolaus is on duty, and Morgrund has no duties to speak of. Not much is happening yet, a few watch are here for their pies, such as Calvin, and various others are here for the pies as well, delicious as they are. Nothing much to do for the moment but talk. Hopefully something happens soon.

Berthold, Artur:
The two of you are sitting about, the day hasn't been overly busy a couple of scratches, but nothing big. You're both going over Berthold's ledgers, making sure all payments asked or offered have been received. Most have, a few haven't, but you aren't too worried about that. It's just something to do whilst you wait for someone to drop in. Which, coincidentally just now happens. He seems a bit pale and wobbly in fact.

[ArcturusV]

"... sos I was runnin' down this little kid ya know, little punk, ain't much higher than up to mai belly don'tcha know. Well he damned stops, turns ta me and says:

'Evenin' sir!'

Like nothin' ain't even goin' on and I ain't been chasin' tha blighter fer three blocks! Played it real innocent ya know. Almost thought I had tha wrong little kneebiter ya know? Guy callin' out 'thief!' and pointin' me at the wrong ragamuffin!

Sos I'mma about to say 'move along' when suddenly his damned pants cluck at me! I stops mid step, and look back at tha kid. Thar's another cluck. Damned kid freaks out as tha chicken he stole starts flappin' and cluckin' and throwin' a fit, nearly ripped his britches right out screamin':

HELP! IT'S GOT ME DANGLERS!

I tell ya what I just busted my gut right damned there... kid got half a block away, runnin' around in a panic swattin' at his pants 'fore I gots a hold of meself and gave him a good thumpin'..."

Calvin smile and laughed, shaking his head at as he shared a little of his day with his 'friends', and the insanity that a watchman on the beat might run into.

[allonym]

Berthold looks up in surprise as his patient walks in, but quickly puts on a professional smile and rises from his chair. He gestures for Artur to remain seated, then walks over to the newcomer. "Hello, sir, my name's Doktor Badermann, but you may call me Berthold. Why, you don't look at your best, if you don't mind me saying! Please, come sit yourself down here, sir, and let's take a look at you. What seems to be the matter - and could you tell me your name?"

[Sir Dancealot]

Artur, Berthold:

Happily brought over to the chair, the man dizzily sits himself down, "The names Bertram Doc. I'm just so tired. Feel woozy." He sinks into the chair some more, half drifting off, "I was in the alley, walking along, then I just woke up, all woozy like. Dunno what 'appened. Figured a doc like yerself would know. What's wrong wit' me doc? Do I got some sickness?"

Spoiler

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I see you rollin'!

Heal is most appropriate

[allonym]

Berthold puts on his best look of confident concern and reaches for a clean metal rod and forceps. "Why, sir, that certainly sounds troubling. Open your right eye? Now look at me? And your left? Can you follow my finger? Tell me, have you been drinking, or eaten anything bad...?" He carries out a basic examination of his patient, relying on the physical evidence rather than the man's obviously limited memory.

OOC:

Spoiler

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Heal test (61% chance): (1d100)[35]
2 degrees of success!

[Sir Dancealot]

"Wells, I just had a Pint an' Pie o'er by Gertrudes, she does have the finest pies around, drop by almost ev'ry day,and when you buys a pin wit' it, it's only three pence 'stead o' five. It's a good deal, but, other then that I jes' had breakfas' me wife cooked up fer me. Eggs 'n' milk with a hit o' toast." He regales you with the various meals he's had the past few days, having a surprisingly good memory of them, nothing sticking out as something to make a man do as he described. As far as you can tell, he seems to be suffering from blood loss. But he doesn't have any ma- Wait. You can just barely see it, they seem to have already sealed up, but you can see two small punctures on his jugular. But there's no way a man could lose enough blood to make him like this through such a small marks.

[allonym]

"Herr Bertram, I'm afraid you seem to have lo..." Berthold trails off as the suspicion suddenly appears in his mind. Surely not... He clears his throat and tries his best to smile. "Sorry, Herr Bertram, I'll just need to ask my...assistant here if he can help me...come up with a diet for you. Uhm, one second. Artur! Artur, could you come over here for a moment? I'd like your...opinion on something. Look at this man's...nodes." He beckons Artur over and indicates the marks on Bertram's neck, then takes his pencil and, holding the scrap of parchment he is writing on at such an angle that it is obviously visible to Artur, jots down the words "He is suffering from blood loss", reasoning that his patient, like most people, probably can't read.

"So...Herr Bertram, when did this fainting spell in the alleyway happen? And where would this alleyway happen to be?"

[Tychris1]

Verilious looked about, sighing to himself as he looks at the papers in his hands. He offhandedly considered spending some of the gold on booze, and then realized that Sylvia would probably figure it out and deck him, or worse. Walking gingerly to the side of the Temple of Morr, he spotted his horse and smiled. It was a nice horse, strongly built, with fur like the Dark chocolate he loved to eat back at home. He sniffed the horse, hoping it was secretly made of said chocolate, and upon being met with disappointment promptly mounted it.

Pulling the reins, he tapped his heels against the side of his horse and whispered.

"Come on girl, lets get moving."

And with that he rode off to the Watch Outpost, head pointed down, and dead silent. He didn't particularly enjoy doing it, but he'd have to get pretty good at faking it if he was going to be a Black Guard. Then again, he was good at faking a lot of things.

[TheSummoner]

Nikolaus

Nikolaus let out a small laugh.

"But what happened to the chicken? Surely you got it back."

[ArcturusV]

Calvin leaned back in the chair, smiling and nodding as he took a little sip of his pint, "Aye, aye. Back ta tha merchant. Didn't tell 'em where I found it. Don't think he'd wanna know..." he shook his head, laughing softly once more as he got the last of it out of his system.

[LCP]

Calvin, Nikolaus & Morgrund

There was a scrape as one of the chairs was pulled back. Pulling himself up onto it, Morgrund's head appeared above the level of the table for the first time.

"Grimnir's teeth but you're loud, Fuchs," he said. The dwarf's clothes smelt as if he had been somewhere subterranean and unsanitary quite recently, and you could hear the jingle of mail as he moved. "Did anyone ever tell you you missed your calling as a town crier?"

[ArcturusV]

Calvin seemed to ponder it for a moment, dredging up various memories, "... nah... nah... can't say they have nah. Lots of stuff. Mostly Cow Puncher. Or a pig cutter. Or maybe a smith. Lots o' that count o' me bein' so big ya know. Biggest in my hometown, ever tell ya that?" Most likely, yes, yes he had.

[TheSummoner]

Nikolaus

"Twice. And that was just today."

[ArcturusV]

"See, see?" Calvin smile, and lifted his glass to Nikolaus, "That's why ya makin' Ee-Jean-Ear... good head on yer shoulders," he took a little drink, to his fellow peasant's fate in moving up in the world, and just good cheer all around. His eyes roved over the Inn room, wondering when the lady of the house would show up with his pie.

One of the damned few treats he had in his daily day, he looked forward to it all day. And now that he was here, was getting a bit antsy for it.

[Sir Dancealot]

Calvin, Nikolaus & Morgrund:
Gertrude wanders over to your table, all bust and beauty, a tray full of pies in one hand, mugs full of her famed cream ale in the other. Smiling as she sets them down, she leans in such a way as to give all of you a great glimpse. She usually only serves the Watchmen, whom are usually quite grateful for it. It's been said that many a watchman has joined just to be served by Gertrude, "So, I heard something about chickens and knobs?" She asks, the smile still on her face.

About halfway through your response, a man walks in through the door, at first you pay him no mind, another customer here for the food and beer, or maybe one for a room. You might spare him a glance as he walks in, he's a tall Bretonian type, his hand at his throat, seeming a tad confused. When he collapses to the floor, blood gushing from his fingers, that's when you realize something is terribly wrong. A collective gasp goes through the Inn, many people edging away from the man.

Berthold: Artur, takes a look at the wound, giving it a twice over. "Yes... We should work on a diet for you. Do you... Uh. Have anything that could help him out now Doc? Pie? Ale? Something?" He scrawls down one word: Vampire.

"But... I likes meh diet. The man groans, but mebbe it wouldn' hur'." He says as he blearily shakes his head. "An' it was only a block or so away, down off Fallhollow Place, over by Gertrude's.

Verilious:
As you approach the Watch Outpost gates, a lone Watchman raises his hand, "Hail! What can the watch do fer yeh sire?"

[allonym]

Berthold's blood seems to freeze. He tries his best to smile to avoid worrying his patient. "Ah...not to worry, Herr Bertram, the diet isn't a bad one! Why, you need plenty of red meat and lots of fluids. A nice meat pie, as my assistant here says, would do lovely, but I'd stay away from alcohol for now, sir. It'll go right to your head. The good news is, you'll probably be fine in a few days. Make sure to get some rest. If you can't make it in to work, let the foreman know it's on Doktor Badermann's orders." He talks automatically as his mind races, trying to work out what to do, without causing a panic. One important detail does suddenly come to mind. "One more thing, Herr Bertram. Could you tell me where you live? In case I need to make a house call or check how you're doing. Why, there's no need to worry, but better safe than sorry!"

[ArcturusV]

Calvin sat up, sighing as his pie was going to be interrupted. His ONE joy... his one, not even Gertrude's "service" really compared, as appreciated as it was. He stood up, one hand on the pole that he carried, walking out towards the man, "... that's good, that's good, just back away now. Ain't nothin' ya wanna get involved in..." he told people with his calm, authoritative voice, practiced over the last few years of bringing order to chaos, and justice to young punks.

Standing a bit away from the man, he poked him, with his pole, knowing better than to lean in close in case this guy was feigning well... whatever happened to him. The blood however seems to say otherwise. Calvin looked out over the crowd, "... someone go fetch a sawbones, eh?" he needled, needing someone to go off running while he dealt with whatever aftermath was going to occur. He circled around the Bretonnian man, knowing that he personally couldn't do much except a few simple things... one glancing out the door to make sure something that did this wasn't lurking outside, and two, putting his eye to the test with this foreigner, seeing if he had any obvious hints of what happened to him on his body, poking and prodding with his pole as needed.

... once jumped by someone feigning injury, or maddened by battle lust, twice shy, after all.

"Ser? Ser? Ya awake? Ya hear me? Ser? What happened?" His voice was calm and soft, not yelling at the Brettonian, but insistent and speaking loud enough so the man could hear him.

[Tychris1]

Verilious raised his head, his hands gently tugging on the horses reins to tell it to stop, and smiled. He reached to his side and held out the white paper his Lady had given him.

"Well I could use the best investigator the Watch can spare. I'm on official business from the Church of Morr, and time is of the essence,"

He paced his horse a few steps forward before leaning forward and whispering.

"And if it's just between you and me, I'm pretty sure if I mess this up she'll be the last girl between my legs....."

He lowered his eyes and patted his mare, a tiny smirk growing on his face as faint memories of Lady Sylvia fighting popped up in his mind.

[LCP]

Morgrund, Calvin & Nikolaus

Dropping down from his chair, Morgrund stomped over to the bleeding man.

"Are you blind as well as daft, boy?" he snapped at Calvin. "The poor wazzock's bleedin' to death for all we know. Put your silly stick away and help!"

Dropping to one stubby knee, he took a closer look at the wound and tried to stem the flow of blood if he could.

[TheSummoner]

Nikolaus

Nikolaus rushed over, unsure of what he could do to help. He looked to the crowd (standing around gaping uselessly, of course) for a moment and knew what he had to do.

"A sawbones... Right! I'll go, try to keep him from bleeding out."

No one else was going, they were too busy watching a man die on the floor to do anything to help. He spared a glance towards Gertrude to make sure she had no objections (he doubted she would, but he was on her pay afterall) before running out to find a doctor.

[Sir Dancealot]

Verilious: The Watchman stared at you for a moment, then made one of the signs of Morr, "Oh. That's definitely paper. With scribbly bits. We're going to uh. Ugh. We're gonna have to bother the Captain." the man sighed heavily, "Follow me if yeh will."

Nikolaus: After Gertrude gives you a brief nod of approval, you burst out into the street. It's oddly dark, which gives you pause. The street lamps have been snuffed. There's also a lack of people about. It's about now that you realize that you are standing on a street that while normally bustling, even at night, is completely empty. You stand alone in the dark, silence surrounding you, the smell of blood filling the air.

Morgrund: You kneel by the man's side in a slowly growing pool of blood. As you reach down to help, you know you've seen wounds like these before. Caused some yourself. The best you could do is extend his life by a few seconds. Maybe thirty or so. Not nearly long enough to find a doktor. Plus, doing so would be excrutiatingly painful, even more than his current wound is, but he'll be dead in a few seconds, so there's that comfort. He stares at you with terror in his eyes.

Calvin: Your poking does not help the man, he seems rather bleedy in fact, and by your guess, he won't be able to speak with his throat cut open like that. Glancing out the door, it seems oddly dark and empty, but theb it's filled with Nikolaus, but you have sword you heard a woman giggling.

Berthold: "Oh, aye. I jes' live off Drury, couple roads south. Jes' ask fer meh, people should be able teh point yeh to the right place. Anythin' else doc? I'm feeling a bit better now what with that food yeh gave me. Anythin' else I should know doc?" he Finished with a burp of appreciation.

[TheSummoner]

Nikolaus

Nikolaus nearly gagged when the stench hit him. A man was just attacked. Of course you'd smell his blood. Of course there's no one in the street. It didn't explain the lack of light though, and Nikolaus found that the most unsettling.

He tried to keep his wits about him. There was a man inside the tavern who needed a doctor, and from the looks of him, he couldn't afford to wait.

[ArcturusV]

"Take care of 'im," Calvin told Morgrund. He looked around the tavern, taking something convenient (Candle, etc), and using it to light his pole lantern. "Ain't much I can do fer tha bloke, 'cept get who did this."

With that, he dashed out into the night, in the wake of Nikolaus. With his light in hand, held up high on the pole he started looking around for traces of the Witness, the Laughing Girl he thought he heard, as well as evidence of where the bleeding Bretonnian might have come from, and where it might have happened.

Spoiler: Mechanics Stuff!

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I suppose that's Perception Test:
(1d100)[41] vs 46 Int for spotting the Laughing Woman/a sign of her.
And Search for Clues/Signs and such of the Bretonnian:
(1d100)[58] vs 46 Int.

[LCP]

Morgrund

"Take care of him?" said Morgrund, struggling back to his feet. He wiped a bloody hand on his britches. "Poor bastard's dead already."

He looked up to talk to Calvin, but the young watchman was already haring off outside.

"You know you'll get your throat cut too!" he shouted after Fuchs, sticking his head out of the door. Then, with an indifferent shrug, he followed Calvin out onto the street - albeit at a much more considered pace.

OOC:

Spoiler

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Perception36 - (1d100)[86]
Not sure what time of day it is, but Morgrund's got Night Vision if it helps.

[Tychris1]

Verillious trotted behind the guard, rolling his eyes as he sighed under his breathe. Looking down at the piece of paper in his hand he grumbled.

"Well, so much for quick and easy. Hopefully this doesn't take too long."

Looking around lazily, Verillious wasn't entirely sure what to do aside from following, and so with no other alternative tried to strike up a bit of small talk, to kill two birds with one stone. He always was good with that back at home.

"Sooo.... Do you know of any good doctors around here? My head has been aching from time to time and I think I should get it checked on sometime."

[Sir Dancealot]

Calvin: Calvin spots some tracks in the road, they seem a bit fresh, and with the street empty as it is, you're sure it should be no problem to follow them.

Morgrund: You can see Calvin staring intently at the ground, seems he found something. You do find it rather odd that nobody is in the street tonight. It's usually quite busy, even for a time like now.

Verillious: The man seems amiable enough, easily answering your question, "Oh aye, there's teh young Doktor what's down the street over by Gertrudes. Good enough lad. 'E'll patch yeh up right well he will. Best Doc around 'e is. Oh, aye this'll be the night cap'n's place. Eh. Damn. He's not the friendliest of peoples he isn't." The man knocked heavily on the door. After a moment there was an answer.

"What is it?" You hear a deep voice say from behind, it seems slightly off to you. But you're not sure how.

Before you're able to say anything, the speaks up. "Uh, it's a disciple of Morr your cap'nlyness. He's got some letter or somethin'. Not rightly sure what it says, and yer trained in the letters so I thoughts it best to bring 'im 'ere forthwith an such."

"Morr? Interesting. Very well, send the man in." The door seems to open inward almost of it's own accord. Behind a desk you see this man (sans dragon):

Spoiler

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[Tychris1]

Armed with new found knowledge, Verillious graciously bows his head to the guard before dismounting and entering the building. He pauses for a moment as he sees the man before him, a bit surprised and impressed by his appearance at the same time. He slung his Demilance over his shoulder and slid his shield onto his back before fumbling for a second with the paper in his hand.

"Ahem, well uh you see I have this paper, given to me by my Lady. She requires that I find the best detective that the watch can spare, Captain."

He took a far more rigid stance as he paced forward and held out his hand, gripping the paper tightly. It was his "Graveyard Duty" stance, and his time spent practicing it helped him keep a collected and organized stride in even the most awkward of situations.

"Either hes been in a lot of fights or hes lost a lot of fights. Either way those scars are pretty creepy."

Verillious thought to himself.

[Sir Dancealot]

Verillious:

The Captain takes the paper, taking a moment to read through. Then he reads through it again. And once more to be sure. "Well. Isn't that interesting." He smiles up at you, showing oddly perfect teeth, "We don't actually have any investigators to spare. I might be able to give you a simple Watchman if you'd like? He's capable enough. Has a good head on his shoulders. Could use some... Experience. He should be at that damn Inn by now. Gertrude's place. I swear that it's a thieves den. I just can't prove it." The man glares off into the middle distance for a minute, smoke lazily drifting from his cigar.

"Anyway. Off you go. And do be careful out tonight. I heard it's very quiet. Sampson should be able to show you out. SAMPSON! SHOW THE MAN OUT WOULD YOU?" He waves you away from his desk, once more reading the letter, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

As Sampson walk you out, you think you hear the Captain say something to himself. Something about a Prince Roland.

Spoiler

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Gimme a Bretonia lore please. At a +30.

[Tychris1]

Verillious raised his hand to say something, but in the midst of the Captain talking, it didn't seem like he could even get a word in! His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as if to speak, but each time he merely shut his mouth and didn't say anything. Finally he worked up the nerve to interject with a comment, and then POOF! Off he went out through the door. Verillious' head was spinning from the entire thing, his brain grasping at the words Prince Roland and trying to get a grip of it.

Rubbing the back of his head, he thanked the guard that showed him to the captain, and proceeded to remount his horse. Shaking his head softly, he kicked the side of the horse and began to trot, in search of "Gertrude's Inn".

It shouldn't be too hard to find an Inn of all places anyway, and Verillious could really use a drink right about now.

Spoiler: OOC

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Brettonian Lore Check:(1d100)[13]

[Sir Dancealot]

Verillious: Prince Roland? It couldn't be that prince Roland could it? The Titan, Daemon Destroyer, Dwarf-Friend, Hippogrif Tamer, Warboss Wrecker, Skaven Slayer, Orc Obliteraror, Tomb Lord Terrorizor. His very name having become a praise. His deeds having secured him to be next in line for the throne of Bretonia.

Surely not that Prince Roland.

You do hear a soft laugh from an alley to your right however. A womans laugh, and a beautiful laugh at that.

Nik: You run your way to the Doktors hut, only to find the place empty, but unlocked. Odd. While young, the Doktor know not to leave his door unlocked. How dark it is this night is starting to grate on your nerves. Something about doesn't seem right. And where are all the people? Usually there's people milling about even now.