Shadows of the Past IC 11

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin awakes in the morning, feeling unusually grumpy. He hadn't gotten nearly enough caffeine yesterday, he thinks as he goes about his morning routine. Brushing his teeth lazily, he goes over what he learned yesterday. Connor's a bastard, assumed but confirmed personally. Anselma Castaferni was found, and will assumedly be resurrected in due time. The Castafernis want answers, but Corwin still has yet to decide whether he wants to give them the whole story. Mithmironel did save his life, although his arrival had saved Mithmironel's entire group.

But first, to begin what he had wanted to start yesterday. He looks at the card that Victoria had given him, to the S.S. Audune. He makes a mental note to don a disguise before going to the pier, and makes sure to pack his disguise kit into his pack before he leaves.

He goes to the Cafe first, for a double shot of espresso and a chocolate chip croissant. He waits to see if Silvia arrives, since they had made something of a routine in the past few days, and sticks around to speak with her if she comes.

After they speak and part ways, Corwin hails a cab to the park, with its numerous crannies and places to hide. He finds the most secluded place he can find, and then begins the process of changing his appearance. He takes off his hat, since the white hair is still so different from his typical hair color. He uses some grease to make it more stringy, and styles it differently from normal. Colored contacts go into his eyes, and a false nose over his own. Different clothing, of a radically different style to his normal clothing, is donned: boots instead of slip-ons, no cravat around his neck, regular pants instead of slacks, and a baggy shirt rather than his usual button-up.

To finish off, he uses a more powerful version of the simple disguising spell. He subtly makes his facial features shift: higher cheekbones, wider eye sockets. He makes a few more cosmetic changes, and is confident in the fact that it will last for half the day.

While he is there, he casts a few more spells upon himself: A spell to hide him from divinations, extended with his rod, and a spell to make his words more believable, extended with his rod.

He then leaves the park, and hails a cab to bring him to the piers to search for the SS Audune.

Spoiler

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Disguise check, plus Seeming (like Disguise Spell except lasts a flat 12 hours): (1d20+28)[39]

Nondedection, extended to last 24 hours. Should've had this up yesterday.
Glibness, extended to last 4 hours.

[AlanBruce]

@Tonel: You look up at the sky as a distant falcon flies away amidst the white clouds and sigh.

The answers of the gods are cryptic, but surely Phaulkon trusts you can use your wisdom to tie things together.

After all, this is the world where you live in, not the gods. They may grant you guidance, but ultimately, it is those that live here that make a difference.

Father Bhagazzin is, as usual, punching slabs of stone and grinding them. The dwarven priest of the Brawler needs to vent his anger somewhere and, since rocks can't press charges, they are the perfect candidates.

Once his training is finished, the Kordite priest listens to your words.

"Get a legal permit to build a church here? Are you sure you want to go through that? Connor will make it nearly impossible, not to say expensive. Months of waiting. The paperwork. Lawyer fees. He will make it hard on you until you give up, but…"

Bhagazzin goes in thought.

"Calchis. The former Grand Inquisitor. He may be able to listen to you and facilitate the process without Connor's knowledge. Mind you, last I recall, Connor was not too happty with Calchis, but the old cuthneryine is well respected in the city and his church, so that's a start. Another alternative is to go ask Highfather Jace. Connor rarely puts down his requests, which aren't many, but that fool does recognize the power of the Divine in Jace. Ask him to intercede for you…"

The dwarf then shrugs.

"…or do it the fast and easy way- go to the Mercy, nab a building. Turn it into a mission. Connor should not even be aware of that."

@Corwin: You wake up and check for your dagger.

Still there.

As you go through your daily morning routine, you do reach a simple and well knwon conclusion: Connor's a bastard. And he has to be taken out. No matter what.

The man did not hesitate to destroy Anselma in front of an entire court of priests… and he got nothing. Not even a slap on the wrist for it.

You head for the Cafe and await for Silvia, who shows up a tad late as you have a sugar injected breakfast and explain to the eastern Star that you'll be gone for awhile. After all, if you are going to go down into the sewers and deal with Alexia, you need more than simple abjurations. Alex was one thing. As were the Novistadors…

But that woman… who knows what she could do.

Then, you hail a cab to Glenndale Park and whitle your way around the twisting paths and hide behind a bunch of bushes as you begin the lengthy process of changing your appearance-

Grease, to stringe the hair up, almost like Olly's but not quite.

Your eyes water as you affix the contacts into them and shut your eyes for a few seconds, allowing the ultra thin glass to affix itself against your retina.

The fake nose is easy, as you check the tiny mirror in your kit and tilt it just a little to the left.

You can't hardly recognize yourself.

Next, the clothes.

The cravat goes off, the baggy pants come in. The slippers are packed and replaced with boots.

The shadow of one of those Eyes chugs high above and you curse inwardly and wait for it to float past as you cast several spell upon yourself- one to make your deisguise even better. another to make you utterly udnetectable. No power on Oerth and beyond will ever be able to catch you now.

Finally, the Beguiler's starndard trick- The Glibness spell. Wioth this silver tongue, who knows- they could even believe you are the King if you walked into The Palace of Justice.

Then, you walk around the park and look around as the many visitors and druids walk past you.

Not a single raised eyebrow. A success.

Hailing another cab, you ask to go straight for Rashema's Marina, bag in hand. If Victoria mentioned the marina and a pier and the S.S. Audune, who knows what kind of training there's in store for you.

It takes almost an hour to reach the marina, which is packed with sailors and traders and of course, police officers who record every single item as you dodge a few boxes and burly sailors and check the card as you walk past caravel of different shapes and designs.

Finally, at Pier 37, you check the card and look at a small vessel- the S.S. Audune.

The ship seems big enough for six people, and that's pushing it. It looks fast, given its size and sails.

An old man with a jacket, baggy pants, a white mustache and several wrinkles, all toped with a flat beret greets you with a mop as he nods and keeps sweeping.

There is something about that man, though…

Spoiler: The Check

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Spot

[Thokk_Smash]

Rather insubstantial, as far as boats go. However, for discretion, smaller is typically better--less red tape to wade through, less chance a stray eye will catch sight of it. He eyes the mustached man with a raised eyebrow, and waves to bring his attention back. Good morning. I'm looking for a woman. I was directed here by Victoria Glasz; she said she could help me.

Spoiler

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Spot: (1d20+7)[16]

[Frendle]

Borazon ponders for a moment, his hand absently stroking his beard. He takes out his newly purchased pipe and looks it over, “Hmmmmmm, Ronald, any idea how to use this thing? No, given your previous home, I doubt you’re very familiar with fire and coals.” Tonel feels a smirk from the bow spirit, “Well, only that we tend to put it out when we embrace it.” Thinks the witty bow.

Self-consciously putting the pipe back in his pocket, Borazon says, “Well, my Lord was pretty specific that I at least try to get a legal dispensation for the church. And perhaps the best first step is to talk to the High Father. Certainly he would be sympathetic with a goodly presence in the Mercy intent on helping those folks.”

With a disgusted smirk of his own Borazon adds, “And given Conner’s disdain, at best, but certainly disinterest in the Mercy. He will likely simply acquiesce to the High Father's request. May I tell the High Father Jace that I have your blessing for this endeavor, as the senior clergy of our Pantheon in the city it would lend some weight I would imagine?”

Tonel winces at the thought of deceiving the High Father with his current incarnation, but perhaps it is for the best, his Borazon side thinks, as perhaps the people of the Mercy would be less willing to trust Tonel after what was seen of him on the screens of the teleprompter.

Borazon waves a hearty farewell to the Kordites gathered in the yard and heads out to find a Cab to take him to the Church of Pelor. But first, perhaps another stop at the tobacconist for a remedial lesson in pipe smoking….

[Togo]

Hey, Maxil, you ever of someone called Clover?

Once he hears the answer, Pharis nods and watches Maxil leave. They're going different ways.

Then he circles back the Academy, to see if he can spot Ke'era again. A bit of scouting around, and then if he can't pick up where she went, back to Bitter Coffee

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia awakes in the morning, a bit later and not as well rested as she'd intended. Nonetheless, she forces herself through her morning reps, refusing to let a little grogginess dull her. With everything going on, she can't afford to let up.

Of course, she couldn't let such sleep become a pattern.

She heads to the cafe, in order to get some caffeine, and more importantly, ask Corwin about contacting her home.

After a few minutes of comfortable conversation as they sip their coffee, she turns to her more pressing question.

"Look, Corwin, I need to ask you for a big favor. Well, hopefully it won't be much for you to accomplish, but it's very important to me -
anyway, I need to know what's going on back in home. In the Jade Sultanate. What Alex said, before he died, about our home... it's a big problem. And it's not one I can do anything about right now, not with what's going on here. But I'm still worried about my family.

Will your magic let you contact them for me? Just so I know what's happened to them."

__

"Oh, this should interest you - I've heard from Cassandra that Alfred Ashford may still be alive. It's just a lot of muddled rumors, of course, but I'm going to see what I can turn up."

_______

After their conversation is over, she heads to St. Noria's. Perhaps she could start to get a lead on what had happened to Alexia's brother there.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You look at the old man sweeping the small deck.

An old man, and nothing else.

You call out to him and mention Victoria. The old man walks at a slow pace into the ship's deck and then he comes out with a plank, as he heaves it, grunting and places it between the Audune and the pier as a few seagulls squack a few feet away from you.

The man gestures you to climb aboard the rickety plank and motions fo you to go inside the cabin, wordlessly.

The cabin isn't grand- there's a couple of bed, a kitchenette, a trap door that is open with a rung ladder boing below the small caravel and then you see a woman.

This woman looks to be in her late forties, early fifties. he hair is blonde, with grey streaks and she wears a light mithril armor with a purple cloak strapped around her shoulders.

The woman loos at the old man.

"Thanks Arno, I'll see what this gentleman wants."

Arno nods and steps outside as the woman crosses her arms and looks at you through her eyes, which carry a slight golden glint.

"Victoria Glasz… so, she has finally collected her favor. Who are you?"

@Tonel: You have a small conversation with Ronald regarding how best to use a pipe.

Ronal, having been blessed by one of the mightiest beings in the Plane of Water, would not know much about fire related amenities, such as smoking.

Then, you speak to Bhagazzin about your decision, as the Kordite shrugs.

"A 'legal dispensation' in this city today means going through Connor's channels. If you think that's best, I won't stop you, but be warned- that imbecile is a bigot- he might turn you down on race alone. Many times have I had court discussions with him merely because I'm a dwarf. But you said it yourself- the idiot doesn;t care for The Mercy. I'm of the idea that you could just open a mission there and he wouldn't even know, but if you insist, go see Highfather Jace. The heads of church… we are like brothers and sisters, you know? One big family. We quarrel, like brothers do, but in the end, we always get along…"

Bhagazzin looks at one of the Eyes in the Sky.

"…Connor does not belong to that family."

Bhagazzin then shakes your hand, a firm grip.

"You certainly have my blessing with Jace, brother! Now go along. Establish your church. We need more people like you in this City."

You leave the Kordite temple and hail a cab, stopping at Bahiti's first.

The tanned skin dwarf greets you with a bow and you take out the pipe.

"It's good, no? But you won't be able to smoke it without tobacco, sir! Allow me to present your choices.."

Bahiti takes out small square boxes and opens them, revealing some dried leaves inside and points to each.

"This one is called Aromatic Fire-cured smoking tobacco. A robust variety of tobacco used as a condimental for pipe blends. It is cured by smoking over gentle fires. In the Sea of Sands, it is grown in northern middle Muyhidain Caln. Fire-cured tobacco can be chewed as well! It has a rich flavor, just make sure you carry a cup to spit it out.. It has a rich, slightly floral taste, and adds body and aroma to the blend."

Then, Bahiti points to the next box.

"This is the Corojo. A type of tobacco primarily in the making of cigars, originally grown in the Tropical islands in Panzuriel's Pass."

"Corojo was originally developed and grown by Diego Rodriguez at his farm or vega, Santa Ines del Corojo and takes its name from the farm. It was used as a wrapper extensively for many years on cigars, but its susceptibility to various diseases, Blue mold in particular, caused the alchemists interested in the cigar trade to alter the makeup."

Finally, Bahiti points to the last minute box,

"Oriental tobacco is a sun-cured, highly aromatic, small-leafed variety that is grown in Geoff,Justcrown, and Veluna. Oriental tobacco is frequently referred to as "Turk tobacco", as these regions were all historically part of the Nulbian Empire. Many of the early brands of cigarettes were made mostly or entirely of Oriental tobacco; today, its main use is in blends of pipe and especially cigarette tobacco."

Then, Bahiti takes out his own pipe, made oof ivory and stuff it with one of the boxes.

"See how I pack the hillow end? Now, once that is done.."

Bahiti takes out a match and runs it across the counter as this one lights up and puts it against his pipe, puffing a few times and then blowing a gout of scented smoke.

"As easy as that. Just don't hold it in too long, sir! And don't forget to tap the pipe lightly to get rid of the burnt off tobacco, either! Don't want to mis burnt tobacco with new one. It's murder on the taste glands. Interested? Each box comes with about ten uses. Two gold."

Whether you decide to purchase from Bahiti or not, you leave his shop and head for the Temple and Palace district.

It takes about an hour to get to the Pelorite Temple, where young neophyte Gaden greets you and you inform him about speaking to Highfather Jace, who, when introduced, shakes your hand warmly and invites you to take a seat.

"Father Ironfoot, of Phaulkon. I met a phaulkonite awhile back. Tonel Carth, from Suel. Tell me, father, how may I help you?'


@Pharis: Maxil trentis turns his head and his eyes open wide.

"Clover? I knew a Clover once… but that was many years ago. You're looking for a dead person, Pharis."

Armaita mentioned this woman would call herself Clover, but dead? Not impossible, given this city, but then again, you were dead a few nights ago, so anything goes.

You then decide to walk around the streets outside Runestone. The guards have dispersed. The Eye in the Sky remains, however, as it chugs around the enormous Tower of Magi, billowing black smoke in its wake.

There is no sign of any Ke'era here.

With the sun setting and the stars twinklimng and the search lights turning on, you head back to the Mercy, always in disguise and enter The Bitter Coffee.

The same assortment of individuals- Mercy dwellers and druids and some other less notable figures as Nan Rose pours drinks for those with the coin…and those without.

Yet your eye catches the attention of three women.

One you have seen in the Mercy. Sarjon has complained several times about a small thief group lead by a Drakan and Ivo. they hang out with a peculiarly drssed woman, a punk.

This one is not allied with them, not that you are aware, but they seem to be on good terms. You also know that she is responsible for the great graffitti outside the Wall of Separation, featuring the two who aparently dared stand up against Connor- Carth and Mitmironel.

Olly the artist.

The other one is strange as is, a petite woman with veils and butterfly wings. Not a human, that's for sure.

The last one does not shy whatever powers she has, appearing first as a shirt haired woman with an earring and then changing her appearance to that of freckled redhead.

Whatever they are conversing, it seems serious, as the red head gets up after a long talk and walks out the door, not even acknoledging you as she passes the door.

As for the girls, they keep drinking and ordering beers.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin looks around to make sure no Cuthbertine priests are around to overhear, and then "hmm's" for a moment. Give me a detailed description of whoever you want me to contact, and I'll see what I can do. It'll be a short message, and it takes ten minutes with each message, but I'll do what I can.

Really? Alexia didn't do as good a job as she thought at cleaning up house, huh. Thanks for the info. I'll see if I can find out more, and you be careful at St Noria's. It is Connor's own private penitentiary, after all.

-----------At the Pier------------

Doesn't speak much, that guy? he asks curiously, as the old man moves back outside.

He considers the woman with the golden eyes with hidden curiosity. The name's Vince, and I'm a friend of Victoria's. She said you could help me with arcane training, off the official records.

He considers her strength as he waits for her answer--with armor, she must have seen adventuring at some point. Or perhaps she is simply overcautious in the city's current political climate.

Spoiler

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Bluff: (1d20+44)[52]

Know (Local) for Urban Savvy: (1d20+18)[36]

[Frendle]

Thanking the Tobacconist, Borazon buy a couple tins of the Turk Blend, the connection to Justcrown seemed somehow appropriate, and returns to the cab, on the way to the Church of Pelor, Borazon tries out his new hobby. After several attempts he manages to get the bowl to remain lit and still allow a smooth and comfortable pull.


Greeting the High Father with a bow and a respectful smile, Borazon is about to speak, but Tonel hesitates wondering if he should inform the Exalted of his old incarnation.

Borazon shakes his head to regain focus and continues, “High Father, thank you for seeing me. I have been helping out the folk traveling with Archidious Mithronel and have therefore been spending some time in and around the Mercy.” Borazon takes a deep breath and places his hand on his beard, stroking it. “It breaks my heart to see the plight of those living there. It has occurred to me that there needs to be a place there which can provide a basis for allowing the folks there to live in peace and perhaps a chance at regaining some prosperity again. At least enough to sustain themselves and begin to do more than merely survive. Children cannot be well provided for on a diet of rats and stale bread.

“To this end I desire to start a Mission in the Mercy. I have communed with my Lord Phaulkon this morning and he has given me his blessing to do so. He has also indicated that, if possible, I create this mission within the bounds of the law.” Borazon leans forward, “I know this may prove difficult given the current climate, not to mention my current race.” Borazon stumbles over the last, but continues.

“My intent is not to convert all those who come there, Lord Phaulkon requires that his faithful protect those folk who cannot protect themselves, it is to give those who wish it a base to work out of to make the Mercy, at least somewhat, as it was before the fire and devastation. ” Borazon smiles as his eyes twinkle, "However if some there come to love the Sky Archer they will not be turned away..."



I have spoken to Father Baghazerin and he gives me his blessing and support. He suggested that, if you were to sponsor my case before the city it might make getting through the red tape much easier. The Grand Inquisitor cares little for the Mercy or its inhabitants and so may just grant this if supported by yourself merely to, begging your pardon High Father, just get rid of us.” Borazon smiles meekly at the Celestial being,

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You look around the Cafe, making sure that there are no guards about, but the moment you are about to utter the first syllable… an enormous shadow looms over La Cafeotheque and you watch one of the Eyes has descended awfully close as the patrons keep their calm and the black smoke chugging machine observes the entire Cafe as it slowly hoves a few feet upwards.

Maybe casting a spell at this point would not be too safe, but Silvia has information regarding Alexia's brother and who knows, maybe he is kept in St. Noria's…

You tip the server and leave for the pier, but then are reminded- St. Noria's is Connor's private prison. If Silvia goes there and does anything stupid…

Once in the Audune, the woman looks at you and raise an eyebrow.

"Vince? A nice name. And you want arcane training not recorded by Runestone… hmmm. Arno!"

The old man turns to look at her as she does a circular motion with her index finger.

The man nods and leaves the Audune as you hear a rope untied.

"Arno's mute. A good company to have around these days."

Spoiler: The Check

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Sense Motive

Then, you look at this woman as the ship begins to move.

She's powerful. A caster, certainly, might even surpass you. Maybe even Mithmironel. Hardy body and keen mind. Might not be too agile, though.

"The name's Armaita. So you want to train…and in the arcane no less! No wonder you didn't enroll at Runestone- it has Connor's lackeys all over it."

Armaita takes the wheel and the vessel jolts a little as you watch halmathan disappear off in the distance under favorable winds.

"If we're going to train, we need to establish trust, Vince. I am the teacher, you're the student. What kind of training are you looking for? And be as exact as possible. I'm doing Victoria a favor and I really hope she has collected up on it with you."

You have been to the Marina many times, but never offshore. As the city becomes a lot more distant, you can smell the sea breeze as the Audune soars through the waves and gulls fly overhead.

"This is freedom, boy! Not that confined mass of steel and stone and wood Connor calls home."

A few hours go by as the boat stops and you look around.

A mass of giant reef islands in the middle of the ocean…although they look very familiar.

They look like ships. Broken ships, made entirely of coral.

@Silvia: You leave Corwin to his own devices and hail a cab.

It takes several cabs before one accepts to give you a ride to St. Noria's prison.

"Only the first entrance, miss. Then, you're on your own…"

The carriage rides at a steady pace across the city as the northern gates open and you see the outskirts.

Vast swamps and woods yonder. Who knows what roams there, as the carriage takes a left in a fork in the road and you can see the imposing Castello di Santa Noria.

The coachman looks around as the gates are lifted and a few guards patrol the area with horse sized wolves which look at you as the horse that drives the carriage neighs and the man whips his mount and the carriage turns around and gallops at top speed.

One of the giant dogs growl as one of the guards, tall and clad in tough armor, with a few scars on his face, looks at you, alone and away, with the cityscape a distant dream.

"Who are you, woman. This are ais not to be visited."

[AlanBruce]

@Tonel: Highfather Jace, with his tall and regal stature. His white wings, a true sign of celestial blood running through him…

If anyone can help you, it is him.

Jace invites you to a chair and leans forward.

"Somehow, everything and everyone lately gets linked to Archaidous Mithmironel. I sponsored him over a week ago, in order to protect him from Connor's wrath. The man with him, Tonel Carth, well… he wasn;t as fortunate. And yes, Father Ironfoot- I am aware of the Mercy's Plight. It pains me to this very day that the orphanage my church built to house the abandoned was burned down. Many lives snuffed horribly in the night. A freak accident, the authorities say.. it's been so long, that that investigation has ceased, but the grief remains…"

Jace gets up and walks to the large window.

"I agree that the Mercy needs a place of hospice and religious shelter. I shall speak to His Grace, requesting that a church to Phalkon be buiklt there. A mission at first. perhaps, in time, a full fledged temple. It won't be easy getting the permits. And eventually, you will have to stand before him and explain your plan, noble as it may be, but you can count on Pelor's support for this endeavor. Rest assured."

On the subject of Bhagazzin, dwarves, and Connor, jace sighs.

"He is intolerant of other races. He has not uttered a word against me because of my ancestry, but it is unfair. I know Lady silvarel used to be prejudiced by him as ell, only for being an elf. She always kept quiet and serene…but Bhagazzin, well… there is a reason why his monicker is 'The Blunt'. I will be with you when the audience is requested. In the meantime, I would suggest you get acquainted with the people in The Mercy. There are good folk there…and some a little misguided, but if your faith is strong, you should be able to bring them into the Sky Archer's fold."

[AlanBruce]

@Lysa: Your head spins as a single ray of light comes through the underground studio via a rectangular window.

How many beers did you have last night?

Olly smokes a cigarette as she paints on a large canvas as a curious sock puppet creature looks at you and then leaps on your head and sits cross-legged.

@Olly: The pixie can't handle her beer, that's for sure. She may cast, sing, and do other amazing things… but alcohol isn;t her forte.

Having already meditated on a scorched roof an hour earlier, you decide to do some free style painting on the canvas.

Try and get that image…whatever it is- on canvas.

@Pharis: the girls got pretty drunk last night as you watched from your lonely table.

In the end, olly ended carrying the winged girl, slung over her scrawny shoulder downstairs.

Best not inquire on that, but Olly is known to have connections of her own, as you sit for a hot cup of coffee in the most deserted pub.

You could go knocking on the door, but who knows.

[Still_I_Rise]

[COLOR="#008080"]"Right. My father, Garen Tauber, is a good 7 inches taller than I am. He has tanned skin, dark eyes, and a short beard. Prominent nose. His hair is like mine... although it may have started to gray by now. A somewhat thin build, but well muscled. He was handsome, in his day. Probably still is, in a way."[/COLOR

Silvia sighs.

"It's been too long. Just tell him who you are, that you're contacting him on my behalf, and that I'm concerned. I've heard, only recently, what happened with Kazym. I need to know how they are... And tell them that as soon as Halmathan is safe, I'm coming home.

Thanks Corwin. I don't know if you can fit all of that into 25 words... I wasn't exactly counting. But thank you."

________________

The ride to St. Noria's is long and not particularly pleasant. Carriage rides are never pleasant for Silvia, truth be told... before Connor's reign she never had the need of these cramped, ground hugging boxes.

She looks at the guard undaunted and somewhat annoyed.

"My name is Silvia Tauber, guardsman, and I did not come out here to be turned away at your gates. I'm looking for information, which relates to a dispensation from the Grand Inquisitor Connor himself.

I'd appreciate you taking me to someone in charge here."

[AlanBruce]

***********

Meanwhile, in some lavish living room adorned with velvet curtains and expensive pastoral paintings…

A jackal headed creature, dressed in fine noblemen's attire lays on a divan as several figures stand in the shadows and a pair of jackals lay at his feet, with diamond encrusted collars.

The jackal man reaches lazily for an apple on a golden bowl and takes a bite out of it as a butler comes over and serves him a glass of wine.

The butler then walks around through the dimly lit pillars as each take a glass from the tray and a red furred hound snarls at the byler as this one hurries along, away from him as a glass is picked from the shadowy ceiling and the jackal man dismisses him.

"A toast! To the new ruler of Halmathan City- me. I have to admit, it wasn't easy getting all of you out of that place, but it pays off to have the right connections… now, let's se who is a proud member of The Velvet Glove…"

The jackal man sips his wine and reads a file.

"Barber- The Quick Cut… come forth, please."

A tall goblinoid steps forth and finishes his glass.

"A pleasure to be a member, Lord Daegal. This is certainly far better than where I was. You have my word that my blade is yours to command."

Daegal grins, showing his poearly white canines.

"You specialize in… quick air assassinations, isn't it? Classy. Quick. Hence your name."

The Jackal mobster reads another.

"Lady Midnight aka. Death's Watch. You nevere really enrolled in Runestone, but you were part of a now sadly deceased cult of Dispater worshippers. I feel your loss."

Lady Midnight steps forward and does a courtly bow as the reddish hound by her side gets up and stands by her side.

"I was lucky Black Shuck wasn't caught… but yes, the cult is now dead. That isn't to say it cannot be revived?"

Daegal grins and nods.

"In time, Lady Midnight. Now, on to our next member… ahh yes. Ghost. Ghost?"

The butler walks in and assumes a radical transformation as his features change and takes out a glass for his own.

Midnight and Barber look at him warily.

"Ghost, aka Death's Swift helper. The perfect infiltrator. he will make sure our product is distributed around the City."

Ghost sips from his wine and smiles.

"Infiltration is just one of my many, many talents, Lord Daegal. I say, and with very little modesty, that I could fulfill Midnight and Barber's job rather well."

The cultist and the assassin step forth.

"We'd like to see you try, changeling!"

Daegal raises a gloved claw.

"Now, now. This is The Velvet Glove. An Elite Outfit. we aren't in the Mercy amongst Sarjon's men. Now, on to our next prestigious member…

the sound of gears can be heard above the shadowy ceiling as metal limbs contorn and swipe the air as a woman clad in gears lands amidst everyone.

The others step back. This one seems like a living weapon with an innocent face. if anything, these assassins know those are the worst.

With a cheerful smile, the woman clad in metal and gears and a pair of bunny ears smiles and waves a hand that is clearly metallic.

"Hi!"

Daegal chuckles.

"Of course, I should have known you'd be using your acquired grafts to stick to the ceiling. Everyone? This is Love Candy aka The Metal Apple. The last in a line of augmented half golems that have retained her sentience…and hopefully her sanity. She crafted her own designs into her body. Do not mistake her- that lithe frame has a one man army hidden inside her. How many did you kill in prison, dear?"

Love Candy takes out a green colored metal lollipop with white swirling stripes and gives it a lick.

"Fifty…beat Sasha by one, but I can kill more if you want… it's fun! Torch them, fry them, vaporize them. I pretty much can do it all."

The others look at her as Midnight analyzes her being.

"I sense no magic from it… akkkk!"

Love candy's arms tretches fifteen feet and holds to the cultist's throat as the hound gets ready to pounce on her.

As Lady Midnight taps Candy's metal hand for air, the half golem replies with a cheerful smile.

"I'm not magic, silly! That's why I have an advantage over others…"

Love Candy's expression turns sour as she looks at Midnight.

"And I'm not an 'it'. I have a name…"

Daegal claps his gloved claws.

"Enough, you two! We are in this outfit together. As a team. And we shall work as one. Love Candy, please release Lady Midnight from your choke hold."

Midnight gasps a sigh of relief as Love Candy retracts her arm and hops around the room.

Daegal raises an eyebrow.

"Ok…and finally we have…"

I am sorry I am late. I had to take care of business elsewhere...

In a crackling of black energy, the Velvet Glove's final member makes her appearance.

Lady Midnight raises an eyebrow as Ghost licks his lips.

"Yummy… who's she?"

Daegal points to the girl with his gloved claw.

"Brains, aka The Elegant & Twisted Mind. Sent to a maximum security cell. One of Runestone's finest…until the terrible accident. My sympathies."

Brains bows to Daegal.

'I am honored to have been invited, but I must ask…how did you get ahold of us?"

Daegal has a true butler serve her a glass of wine.

"Details. Needless to say, you are all now free and under my command. We are going to run this City like nobody's done before. No burglaries. No mudrers- unless awfully necessary. We are going to… help the people. hehehehehehhe…. yes. Help them."

Barber leans against a column and looks at the Jackal straight in the eye.

"You mentioned Sarjon. I know who he is. He isn't to be trifled with."

Daegal chuckles.

"Sarjon is content with The Mercy. Let him keep it. If he wants to build an empire amidst charred buildings and crumbling walls, by all means. He can crown himself king. That isn't to say distribution will not take place there. Ghost, I expect you to take care of that."

The changeling bows.

"Easiest job ever. Consider it done."

Lady Midnight takes out a tiny bottle of perfume and masks the room with a heavy aroma.

"And what of The Castafernis? I know they will not take kindly to whatever operation you are running here. I would rather not deal with them. At all."

Daegal grins, showing his canine fangs.

"The Castafernis will not be a problem. All it takes is one olive tree to bend to my will, and the others will follow shortly."

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You describe your father as best as you can.

Hopefully, Corwin will be able to send a message. If what Alex mentioned is true and that Kazym is running things in the Sea of Sands, your family may well be in danger.

Once Corwin leaves and you get off the carriage at St. Noria;s prison, you assess your surroundings…

The imposing prison castle is built against a cliff, overlooking the ocean. Entrance would have to be through the water, flight - assuming nobody gets caught- or through the gigantic front gate, now shut.

The giant dog looks at you and snarls as the guard towers above you and smiles crookedly.

"A dispensation from his Grace? To investigate the prison? Heh. And you want to speak to the man in charge? This ought to be fun…"

The guard takes out a large leather horn and blows on it for roughly a minute as, in the distance another hiorn responds in kind and you can hear grinding wheels as the portcullis is lowered. A long walk towards the castle itself as several more guards await you with similar dogs by their side as the guard smiles again.

"You may go in…"

The walk towards the Castello is long as the sound of crashing waves can be heard behind it and more guards greet you at the imposing entrance, which shows a courtyard.

"Welcome to St. Noria's Prison… weapons and any items of power. Now."

The guards immediately confiscate your scimitars as one of the guards looks at it.

"Just a visit, eh? Let us hope it isn't permanent. Escort the woman inside."

The first area you see is a huge courtyard with a variety of gym equipment- mostly weight lifts and grimy benches. You look up and see guards stationed along the upper walls, looking down at you.

Giant ballistas are aimed towards the sky, in case anyone were foolhardy enough to try and fly in.

Then there are more of those dogs.

They certainly aren't normal canines…and something about those eyes… but other than their freakish size, it is impossible to tell what they are.

The guards always follow you and open another smaller, but no less grand door decortaed with bronze angel heads and you finally enter the prison proper.

This place is gigantic. Levels of cells going up and down. Chandeliers stuffed with candles stand completely rigid and you can see more guards doing rounds with those giant dogs as a variety of voices can be heard from the cells around you.

I'm innocent!

Let me out!

No! Let ME out!

Nah! I'm the King! Let me out…Hahahahhahahaha!!!!


The barkings of these monstrous dogs silence the inmates and then you look at the welcoming painting on the grand foyer to this gloomy place.

Do not blame the Gods for your Lawlessness

It is your own Sins that brought you here

You are made to wait almost an hour as the distant sounds of lashings can be heard in the levels below, as well as incessant cries of pain.

Then, a guard comes up to you.

"The Warden will see you now."

You are taken up a flight of stairs which are carpeted and a variety of gold framed paintings shoiwng a young man with a doog by his side in different stages of his life, with a bucilic background, which contrats with the ambience of this place.

A pair of guards and a large dog stand next to an ornate bronze door with the emblem of Halmathan- The Dragon as one of the guards opens the door for you.

A giant office, well kept, with more lavish paintings of green peaceful landscapes despite the distant lashing sounds.

A very expensive mahiogany desk can be seen at the end of the room and behind it, a man in his fifties, with black hair and grey sideburns. He wears heavy armor and a red cape. His features marked with a scar running down his left eye all the way down to his mouth.

A pitch black dog- of normal size, growls at you as you enter.

yet another man stands beside him.

This one wears red robes, a very ornate staff and a ruby mask that covers his face.

The man sitting down looks at you.

"You must be Miss Silvia Tauber, His Grace's envoy, i presume? I have never heard of you. I am Warden Clavius Aemilius and I am a very busy man. I am also the man in charge here. You did want to talk to the man in charge, so… talk."

[Tyrann]

Olly wakes up a bit frustrated, but she supposed the graffiti could wait. She gets up and meditates, leaving the fey to sleep. So pixies can´t handle alcohol. It made sense, given their size. But still, good to know. She wracks her brain for a few moments, trying to recall what else she knew about them.

Spoiler: Roll

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kn. nature (1d20+17)[31]

When she gets back down after meditating, and Lysa is still sleeping, Olly gets out a blank canvas, a cigarette and a brush, and starts drawing a Novistator in the process of transforming back into a Pixie, like the ones Lysa had summoned in the fight against Alex. She starts practicing falling leaves in a beam of light too, particularly how to do them quickly without sacrificing too much detail.

Spoiler: Roll

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Prof (painter) (1d20+25)[30]

When Lysa wakes up, Olly doesn't turn around, but says "Good morning. You want to get some coffee before we leave? You look like you could use it.. And where are we going, anyway?"

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You come back downstairs to the studio and watch Lysa asleep.

You have heard of fey before, but never seen one live. Clearly, her small size and frail frame aren't made for alcohol, but as a druid, what did Elric mention to you about pixies…

Olly, of all the wondrous beings that once lived in Glenndale Park, the pixies were by far the most enjoyable to hang around with. As beings of Nature, they are blessed with an incredible slew of powers, sadly, now gone with their disappearance.

A pixie will never be seen by anyone it doesn't wish them to. They can remain invisible in plain sight all day, all the time. One would think this would make a pixie a dangerous foe in combat. Thankfully, pixies rarely resort to violence.

Like many fey, pixies are not bereft of the ability to cast innate magic. One such power is similar to ours- the ability to command plants to ensare foes or unwanted visitors to their glades. Of the others powers I have observed, they are very similar to that of a sorcerer- the ability to discern good and evil, law and chaos, read the minds of those they see… even undo powerful magic and, if they are in a good mood, which is frequently, the ability to cause multicolored wisps of light to dance around in their fey circles.

Of course, if seriously threatened, a pixie has the potential to scramble the minds of those they deem of ill intent, having them act like fools in a forest- even attacking themselves, while the pixie remains utterly unseen.

Dim light has no effect on pixies. Like elves, they can see under moonlight as well as you under the bright Halmathan sun. For such small fey, their skin is unnaturally tough- a regular slash from a sword- which I cannot imagine why anyone would want to do that in the first place- would have no effect on a pixie…unless they wielded the rare cold iron alloy.

And if that wasn't enough, pixies are born into the world with a resistance to magic. A resistance that can increase exponentially if the pixie decides to train, which brings us to the last portion of our lesson- those pixies who decide to train as warriors, have the ability to craft the Memory Loss Arrows. The pinch from such a small arrow tip is harmless, but if the mind is weak, the recipient will forget everything about themselves. Only very powerful divine and arcane magic can reverse it...

You look at the sleeping Lysa and can only wonder what Glenndale Park must've been like when they were around. For such a small size, pixies are extremely powerful. No wonder Alexia decided to transform them- she most likely feared them.

With that information fresh in your mind, your hand begins to sketch madly upon the giant canvas…


The hideous Novistadors, once graful pixies warped by Alexia's alien mind, tearing apart and bringing forth their true fey self as a rain of autimn leaves falls upon the alien husk and the newborn fey.

A triumph of Nature over Madness.

It takes you about fourty five minutes to sketch and half an hour to apply the base color, but as you light a new cig and step back, you smile.

This piece will be one for the books.

Lysa stirs as Sock leaps acrobatically from her head and watches cautiously as the veiled fey wakes up.

"I feel like I was run down by the Dragon's Flight… how much did I have to drink? Beer, huh? And I thought only dwarves drank it. Let me…let me lay down for a few moments. Head spins…"

After about five minutes, Lysa gets up and cleans her dress and shirt.

"I didn't dance on the bar last night, I hope? Or sing? I get a little too happy when I drink. And yes! Coffee would be great! I would like to go see Steiner and maybe you can come along too? He did give you this for me…us now."

Lysa produces the golden locks.

"Thankfully, they weren't needed, but if my friend has asked for me to go see him, I will go help him, whatever it is he needs."

[Frendle]

Borazon stands and bows deeply to the High Father. “Thank you High Father for your help and advice. I will indeed take some time and get to know the folks in the Mercy better, and make some friends.” Borazon smiles broadly.

“Also I need to see if there are some Phaulkonites in the area who would be willing to help. My Lord Phaulkon said “The falcons flutter scattered” when I asked him if there were any other of my Lord’s faithful here in the city, so I think finding anyone anywhere in or near the city is going to be difficult. But perhaps I know one that can help with that.” Borazon stokes his beard in thought.

Borazon turns to leave, but then turns back to ask one more question.
“Oh, where would I start to get the red tape rolling? Is there someone you could suggest who could guide me through it? I am better suited to the wide open fields than I am in navigating the intricacies of city bureaucracy.”

[AlanBruce]

@Tonel: Highfather Jace returns your bow.

"I may be looking at a future Head of Church, Father Ironfoot. And yes, I believe it would be wise to visit The Mercy- if you plan to establish a mission there, the shepherd needs to get acquainted with his flock."

On the matter of Phaulkon's cryptic response, Jace goes deep in thought.

"If there are followers of Phaulkon in Halmathan, father Ironfoot, I have not met them. They may have stopped at the Temple, seeking aid like any other person in the city, but I would recognize if they were clergy members. Perhaps the followers the Sky Archer mentioned are not ordained? If that is the case, finding them would be a lot trickier, but not impossible."

Before leaving, you inquire one last time about the lengthy beaurocratic system involved in raising a mission, later- a church.

"The Palace of Justice handles such matters now. Normally, it would be as simple as requesting the King for such a permit and presenting a case, but in his absence, the Grand Inquisitor oversees that. Or rather, his many lawyers. There is, of course, my own participation in this, but I am not versed in legal matters. I can help them be expedited through my position as head of the Pelorite Church, but the priests of Heironeous are also versed in the law- not as strictly as the Cuthbertines, but they do carry such documents and I see no reason why His garce would not allow one to help you through the legal motions. And, if you can, seek audience at The Royal Palace. I believe there are people there who did handle these matters… provided His Grace has not removed them from office already."

[Tyrann]

Olly laughs and says in a joking tone "Yeah, you were dancing alright. On the bar. I had to drag you off, you wouldn't stop. But don't worry, I don't think that many people saw you. Thirty, maybe forty. Fifty, tops."

Spoiler

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Bluff (1d20)[1]

She adds in Silvan "Let's go get that coffee, then."

Olly remembers Elric, sitting as usual, and teaching about fey, shaping wood and rocks into sculptures as he was talking about them. In the flesh, a pixie seemed even more charismatic than how Olly had imagined. Hung over, sure. But for all their innate magic, perhaps the most astonishing thing was just a Pixies presence and charisma.

Once they're up the stairs, Olly smiles at Nana Rose. The old lady was always so cool about things like asking last minute if an intoxicated friend could sleep in her basement for the night. "Hey Nana. Could you make us two coffees? Make them strong, especially hers." she nods in Lysa's direction. "Not that she has a drinking problem or anything." she flashes Lysa a grin.

"I'll take the usual (black). How do you like yours, Lysa?"

[Frendle]

Borazon says his final goodbye to the High Father and goes out to the street to find a cab, yet again. Hailing one he tells the driver to head for the Church of Heronious. Then he settles back and takes out his pipe. He’s starting to get the hang of this he thinks.

Once he arrives he steps up to the church Borazon bows deeply and with a smile asks whomever is there, “My name is Borazon Ironfoot, a faithful servant of Lord Phaulkon. I would like to speak to someone who can help me with some permits that I need to fill out, High Father Jace suggested I seek help here at your temple.”

[Togo]

Across the room, a cloaked heap nurses a mug of coffee. It stirs, revealing the touseled head of a young man recovering from what was apparently a rough night. He calls out.

Try black, lots of sugar, and a hazelnut shot.

Pharis gives a nervous grin, thinking back to how he had tried to approach the previous night...

Spoiler

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The young man watches them head downstairs.

Ok, so you need to talk to them. There's no sign of the people you were after, Olly's the best lead you've seen all day.

He follows them downstairs, arriving below just in time to see the door they disappeared through close with a clunk.

No need to be nervous about this. You know her. Everyone knows her. Well... knows of her.

He reaches the door. He stops, his hand raised to knock.

Of course, she has no idea who you are. You're just a stranger. A heavily armed stranger. Who followed her home.

He doesn't move.

Ok, maybe not.

..he gives another wave, and takes another sip from his mug.

You're that artist, right?

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia smiles blandly as the guard grants her request. "Thank you."

Once inside, she reluctantly hands over her scimitars - along with the rest of her "items of power," which she stuffs into her haversack.

"Don't touch anything," she tells the guards who collect the items.

She paces while she waits for the warden, doing her best to block out the sounds. How many of these prisoners were innocent, she wondered? And how many, even of the guilty, were receiving far too harsh a punishment?

Nonetheless, she manages to compose herself before meeting the Warden. Perhaps flattery would be the way to start with this one... such self-important officials usually swallowed it whole.

"Well met, Warden Aemilius. I promise I won't take up too much of your valuable time. I know you do important work here, after all." She smiles, much more warmly than the one she showed the guard earlier.

"I've been tasked by his Grace to bring to justice a certain Alexia Ashford, wanted for various crimes of the highest order. My investigation, however, has brought to my attention the character of her brother - one Alfred Ashford. And from what I've heard, you may be able to tell me something about the whereabouts of young Ashford."

Spoiler

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Will you roll me a sense motive check for hunch if the warden responds well to flattery, and possibly seduction?

I'll start with Diplomacy, the flattery is an attempt to influence his mood: (1d20+16)[34]

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Lysa looks at you with one eye shut, the grogginess from last night still having a grip on her.

"You know, I may have been drunk, but not amnesiac… that's… that's for someone else."

Once both are out of the studio, you ask Nana Rose for a coffee- black, as usual.

Lysa looks an olive pale of green as she raises her tiny hand.

"Mine with sugar…and some vanilla… no wait. What that guy said, please."

You both watch Nana Rose work with the grinding device as she pours the two mugs and sets them on the table.

"Bitter black for the artist and sweet vanilla flavored for our flying damsel. Enjoy!"

The black coffee sits well as you light your third cig for the morning.

The perfect combination. A much needed adrenaline boost.

Lysa takes a few sips and her face goes pale as Nana Rose points to a door.

"The toilet is over there, dear. Please clean up after yourself."

Lysa jets through the Bitter Coffee and slams the door behind her. It would seem beer and hazelnut and sugar don't get along too well.

You take a drag from your smoke as Lysa's yacking sounds are muffled by the thick wooden door.

Fey may be powerful… but they sure can't hold on to their drink.

That's when a nondescript man, wearing a cloak walks towards you.

Armed. hard to tell if he's well armored, due to the cloak and hood, but he looks like the kind of guy that looks for trouble.

@Pharis: You watch the winged girl fly away towards the toilet room and approach The Artist.

You have seen her before, with a few rogues Sarjon has no love for. The shaved head, except for that amethyst colored mohawk that droops to the side.

The piereced nose. The leather jacket. The military boots.

The cloud of smoke pouring forth from her mouth, obscuring her freckles.

This one doesn't seem too friendly…but then again, who is in this City?


@Tonel: With the assurance from Highfather jace, you walk a few blocks to the imposing temple to the Archpaladin.

Of course, a squad of Connor's men stands at the door, making sure the Caged Bear lives up to his name.

The giuards look at you with a arised eyebrow and are about to kick you out of the premises when a brunette priestess walks up to the gate.

"Excuse me, gentlemen? The master dwarf would like to come in. I understand his Grace has forbidden Sir Randolph and his paladins from leaving the House of the Valorous One…for the city's safety, but surely it does not mean someone seeking aid cannot come in?"

The guards look at the priestess. In her early twenties. Probably a neophyte by the looks of her robe. No armor. Maybe she's not a paladin. The idea that Heironeous only has paladins may be cliched, after all. He must have priests, but in your experience, a priest might as well be a warrior.

The guards roll their eyes and stand aside as the priestess opens the tall iron gates for you and invites you in.

"my most sincere apologies. His Grace has a law that, well…. I;m sure you;re not here for that. I am Layla, humble servant of the Valorous One and, were the situation different, you would probbaly see my brothers and sisters in these streets."

You then walk around the courtyard, with dozens of paladins practicing swordmanship as you explain to Layla what you wish to do.

The neophyte listens and nods.

"A very noble mission, Father Borazon. Although the Grand Inquisitor has prevented our flock from leaving the City and the Temple, exceptions can be made. The Cuthbertines aren't the only ones versed in the Law…"

Layla invites you to take a seat on a bench as the sounds of steel on wood echo through the courtyard.

"I can help you establish a Mission to Lord Phaulkon. He is not known in these lands, but King Airdan always valued diversity. We have old documents that can be filled and filed to the Palace of Justice. It won't be a quick procedure- His Grace has made it incredibly difficult to make such transactions quickly, but if you are patient, it can be done. There is, of course, the manner of legal fees. Establishing a church here requires prospective Head Priest- that would be you- to present a detailed manifesto regarding what you wish to do and where. Once we have that manifesto in hands, I can start with the paperwork. Then, we send it to the Palace of Justice for inspection- that's the part that may take awhile. The Overseers, beaurocrats who observe all manner of changes in the City, will want to make sure you are as detailed and lawful as possible. If they find an observatiuon, the manifesto will be returned and declared null. You may restart the process, but it will take another lengthy observation. If we are lucky, and the Overseer in charge sees no qualms, then we get an audience with the Heads of Church, since they will want to know who is the new person in charge of an established temple here."

Layla takes a deep breath and smiles.

"I'm sorry, father. I hope I am not overwhelming you. If you have any questions, just ask."

@Silvia: The guards smirk as they retrieve your scimitars.

"Oh, they'll be well taken care of, woman. Go inside."

As you are made to wait, looking at ominous painting and the cries of pain above and below you. The monstrous dogs and the unseen lashings, you can't help but think if this is indeed a place where Justice is served…


Then, you are invited to the warden's office, as his pitch black dog snarls at you, the warden, well groomed and wearig heavy armor and a red cape, and the tall red robed figure with a ruby mask and an ornate staff look at you as you begin introductions.

Warden Clavius puffs his chest and gets up as his dog follows him around the room.

"Miss Tauber, I do the City perhaps the greatest favor of them all- I keep it safe. In this House of the Law, the lawless are brought into my fold, where I provide much needed succor to their fragmented morals…"

A distant lashing and a cry of pain follow his pompous statement.

"It is only because of His Holiness, the Grand Inquisitor, that the Castello di Santa Noria has begun functioning properly again. And I can assure, Miss Tauber- it will continue to function for a very long time."

Then, you inquire about Alexia Ashford as Clavius raises an eyebrow.

"An Ashford? Truth be told, Miss Silvia, I do not leave the confines of the Castello- my work is never ending. I must keep the City safe. For that, I must remain here. As for this..Alexia, I have no idea who she might be."

Then, you insist about the whereabouts of her brother, alfred.

That's when the man in the ruby mask looks at you.

"You mentioned you had special dispensation from His Holiness. May we see it?"

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia brushes back her hair casually.

"Unfortunately, you may not, for it was given verbally. It was my carelessness not to request a written accompaniment. Under ordinary circumstances, I would be satisfied to leave and return once attaining official documentation. However, this matter is one of some urgency. Alexia Ashford, since you are unaware, was an old apprentice of Cutter. Or rather, it was believed she was an old apprentice - in fact, she was far superior in "talent." And she is currently in a position to threaten the safety of the entire city of Halmathan.

Perhaps you have some faster way of determining the truth of what I say?"

Her expression remains calm as another scream is heard in the distance. If she didn't get what she needed now, who could tell how long it would take Connor's bureaucracy to process her request? By that point any value to this line of investigation may well be lost.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: Warden Clavius returns to his desk and sits down as his pitch black dog looks warily at you.

His tone of voice changes as well, being a tad more grim.

"Miss Tauber, you come to my prison, stating you have 'special dispensation' from His Holiness… yet all you have to prove is your word. I am the Warden of a very important facility. This carries a lot of responsibilities. Leaving my duties to hear your tale- interesting as it may be- is a waste of the City's time…and considered a felony."

You can swear that pitch black dog smiles as Clavius looks at you and then the red robed figure with a ruby mask paces around the room, using his ornate staff for support.

"Interesting, Miss Tauber- we do have a way to assess if what you say is true. We are after all, under His Holiness' divine guidance. How could we not know what happens beyond the Castello without his personal special dispensation…"

The man takes out a black stone and places it on the desk as he presses his index finger against it for a few seconds and with hos other hand, taps the desk twice.

It takes a few seconds for Connor's voice to fill the room as Warden Clavius puts his hands together in prayer.

Why am I being interrupted, O'Bannon?

The masked man looks at you as his index remains pressed against the stone.

"A miss Silvia Tauber is in St. Noria's and claims to have.. special dispensation to conduct an investigation here. I am looking at her right now in Warden Clavius' office and she can hear you as well, your Grace."

Connor sounds angry as this information is delivered.

Special dispensation? Miss Silvia Tauber is to conduct an investigation with an elven arcanist, Archaidous Mithmironel and a former Gazette reporter, Corwin Knell, but that investigation has NO relevance in the Castello! Silvia Tauber is to exit the premises at once!!! If you are listening, Miss Tauber, I would advise you heed my good graces and abandon St. Noria's…lest your stay become a lot more prolonged. Now, I have far more important businesses to attend….

Father O' Bannon releases the pressure on the stone and pockets it as Clavius Aemilus looks at you and a guard opens the door.

"You heard his Holiness. And his word is absolute. Unless of course, you would like to stay? There is always room for one more…"

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia purses her lips for a moment, but shakes her head. "That will not be necessary. My information concerning Alfred Ashford's whereabouts must have been faulty... or perhaps he simply wouldn't have anything important to say concerning his sister.

At any rate, I will continue my inquiries elsewhere. Good day.

If your guards would be so kind as to return my items?"

That pompous bastard. It seemed all too likely that Alfred Ashford was in St. Noria's... but it wasn't worth risking anything to find out. Not yet. After all, there really wasn't any guarantee that he's know anything useful.

Perhaps she'd fare better investigating their old mansion in the Mercy. At the same time, it would undoubtedly be helpful to attain some sort of written document from Connor, although her lips curl at the prospect of dealing with his legalism any more than necessary.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: Clearly, that bastard does not want you snooping around the prison. Had Clavius gotten his way, you would've ended at the receiving end of a three pronged whip in some dirty cell deep below ground.

The warden dismisses you with a wave of his hand as his pitch black dog seems to smile as the O' Bannon, always wearing a ruby mask to conceal his face, keeps his eyes on you the whole time as you excuse yourself from the Warden's office and a guard shuts the door.

The wails and cries of pain infest the somber halls of St. Noria. Who knows how many people Connor has sent here during his few months in power?

Best not to think about that for now.

The guards check your belongings and walk with them and you across the long portcullis and once outside, with halmathan a few miles away, hands them back to you.

"Have a nice trip back home…heh."

The guard walks back in and the sound of the horn signals the portcullis being raised and you look back at the imposing castle.

something is hidden there, alright… but how to get the information?

then, you sheathe your scimitars and look ahead.

The road is long. Mostly open space, but you would have to walk through a small patch of trees and maybe a swamp, unless you can find your way back to the North wall.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia grimaces as she views the long road ahead. No way in hell she was walking through all of that. There weren't any cabs here... but maybe there weren't any Eyes either. Looking around and above her, she pulls her carpet out of her bag and stands on it, directing it to hover a few scarce inches off the ground. That shouldn't be visible from up above, she thinks, although she keeps a wary eye towards the skies. Once she gets closer to the town she steps off and returns it to her bag, hailing a cab to the Mercy.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You take one last look at the castello as the portcullis shuts itself and walk several paces away and look around.

The prison isn't safe, but neither is the open fields and those swamps and forest patches.

Once no guards from the priuson are on sight, you take out your family heirloom and toss it on the ground as it extends into the magnificent flying carpet.

Levitating a few inches off the ground, you keep an eye on the city walls and glide as fast as you can through the dirt roads, avoiding the forest patches and the swamps, of course.

As you glide through the terrain at the fastest speed as you can, you swear you can hear growls coming from the forests farther away. You could investigate, but best not to be late to see Corwin.

With no Eyes in the Sky here to monitor you, you laugh and utter the ancient words as the carpet soars towards the clouds and you you feel free, if only for the briefest of moments as Halmathan and its Eyes seem so distant below…


Then, testing your skills, you jet towards the City as the wall comes closer and c,oser and closer…


At the last second, you order the carpet to fly vertically along the outer wall and then glide into an alley, leaping off your trusted heirloom as you land amidst a bunch of old carts and the carpet shirnk into a ball of cloth and you pocket it.

You stay in the alley for a few minutes and look around…

Full of people, of course, but no fingers pointed.

That's when you hear a group of kids talking, probably no more than eighteen.

Is it good?

Hell yeah! It's the new thing in town. Everyone's doing.

So I just take one?

Just one..or two. I take three, but you need to have brass for that, so maybe half for you?

You hear the sound of coins passing from one hand to another.

Give me four… you better not be tricking me. I know where you live.

Then, you hear a group of five, maybe six, walk away in different directions.