Jorvik: A Land of Snow & Ice

Game Master DSXMachina

A dark mystery in the ancient city of York.


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Prologue: In Maeves Court

Yet another beautiful masquerade ball was taking place, the music soared everyone danced. At least it was until moments ago.

The dual was about to begin; Lord Sylas had been spreading scurrilous rumours about the half-blood Princess. When Duana over-heard in such a manner, that for a moment reason left her and she challenged him to an honour-duel.

The entire Court looks on as Duana faces the tall and ambitious knight. It was not turning out how he expected he just was trying to undermine the half-blood, but now he would destroy her in front of the court but not before he would show her up. Danny watches on from the crowd as the honour duel begins.

A furious frenzy of metal as the arrogant Sidhe Lord strikes rapidly each attack merely eliciting a shower of sparks as Duana puts up a robust defence. The assault is aggressive and the ambitious Sylas leaves few holes in his defence. The fight seems to stretch an eternity, the desperate defence of the Princess can barely hold up against the expert Lord. Then she spots an opportunity to riposte against his attack, but it was a ploy and she feels his cold blade draw blood from her arm. She leaps backwards, and he gives her a nod a lascivious smirk crossing his face. The pair circle for a moment. Duana has the feeling that the Lord is prolonging it just to show off his skill and make the battle a memorable one. Then the Fey Lords’ eyes widen slightly in surprise and Duana lunges; her blade finding his heart. The steel is an anathema to him and quickly he falls to the floor dead.

Maeve rises from her throne as silence grips the Court, suddenly aware of their own mortality. She glides to her daughters’ side, raising her un-bloodied arm in Victory. Subtly indicating the victory was not Duana’s alone. The assembled Nobles let out a collective gasp of relief and the room bursts into life. Within moments the duel is seemingly forgotten, Maeve draws her daughter off to one side to stand with her, the Frost Knight and the Princesses hound.

With the smallest of smiles Maeve looks at Duana; ”Thanks” she says putting a set of car & apartment keys and a cash card in her hand, folding it about them. ”You should probably leave now, the Lords family will be seeking vengeance.”

Duana & Gelert:
A tiny sprite flaps down to you with its dragonfly wings sparkling in the light. He holds himself in a regal manner, an pin sized sword affixed to his waist, you recognised the Viscount Aret. ”I’m sorry that the happenstance was such. But verily, your sword-play was exquisite. If thou find thyself in need of aide, thou shalt call upon my kin, Lycius, the Nerid oft thee River Ouse. Thus my debt to you is complete, for my part in this eve’s entertainment.” He starts to flit away.

Gabriel:
During the Duel
Maeve looks at you, your fingers go numb for a second and you drop the flute of the sweetest alcohol that you were drinking. It falls to the floor, the glass shattering into a fine mist about your feet. Involuntarily your hand rests on the blade of your winter-bound sword. You feel the eyes of the Sidhe Lord bear upon you as Duana lunges, you see death in his eyes.

In the aftermath Maeve comes up to you. ”That was good work, that young upstart was too ambitious, darling.” She says dragging out the last word causing shivers to run down your spine, and other regions.

”Unfortunately, there will be repercussions. You might need to be away from Court whilst it cools down. I have an assignment for you, stay with Duana. There is something you should meet in Old York. I’ll let you know soon.” Maeve places a soft kiss upon your cheek, which burns with cold. Which leaves a red mark that quickly fades, but you can feel it gently pulsing.

Danny:
The duel holds you mesmerised, the speed and skill is astounding and you can tell none of it is Glamoured. You wince in sympathy as the young woman gets cut. The rumour that you heard from a winged sprite earlier about her you cannot believe even in a chaotic, hedonistic place such as this no wonder she tries to prove it a lie in such a way. You almost whoop in delight as the Arrogant Fop is skewered.

As the party resumes you notice in your pocket a chill blue Rose about its stem is a card with 2 embossed names in florid script your mothers and “Margaret Clitherow”.


Jericho

Waking up the acrid stench of bleach assails your nostrils. So tired you can hardly open your eyes, but a persistent wane sunlight lights up your eyelids. Opening them you look around finding yourself in a small room.

The walls painted an institutional marigold colour, flaking and stained by years of neglect. In one corner there is a small steel toilet pan, unused and thankfully clean. You are laid down upon a slab of a bed protruding from the wall, as you rise your head pounds. Raising a hand to your forehead, you feel a small cut.

The window behind you is criss-crossed with a Georgian style mesh, letting in the pale morning light. The only exit is a heavy closed door with a small closed panel inset. Heavy booted feet approach echoing down the corridor causing your head to throb slightly.

What happened last night?

Compel: “Friendless and Forgotten”


Aximeus

A call wakes you from your bed, looking at the clock it registers 7:30. Getting up gingerly after your night-shift, it was nearing dawn before you got home. Aximeus answers the phone, a worried voice comes through from the other end.

”Hey Axe, it’s me Jason. I don’t know where to turn to man. The cops just kicked down my door this morning and grabbed me. You’ve gotta help. They’re saying I killed someone. Oh man, I’ve got to go now. Help me, I’m at the police station.”

Jason, is one of your colleagues at the bar. A tall lanky youth with a large mop of dark hair almost in an afro, loves listening to old Marley records. He might occasionally smoke too much weed, but he would never kill anyone, surely.

It takes but moments to get to the station, the balding officer behind to desk looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. ”Can I help you Sir?”

Compel: ”Code of Honour”


Danny

It had been six months since the party in Toronto, much had happened. The girls’ father had to move to Northern England, his son was having trouble with the local gangs. The twins had to follow although, fortunately they found placement at the best university in the locale.

Danny looked into the name ”Margaret Clitherow” and the only match was a dead woman in the city of York, reputed to haunt the streets. So Danny felt he had to follow this lead, anyway it was getting too risky around here the local Winter Court fey were starting to try and test him. That morning he had a meeting with one of the local Changelings, it was said that he had connections with a medium in the area.

Compel: “Songs of my Mother”


Duana, Gabriel & Gelert

Gabriel has brought over some books to Duana’s Riverside apartment. He watches the river slowly flow as the morning sunlight glints off it. Suddenly he feels a slight chill throb on his cheek and the front door glides open.

A roll of mist envelops the carpet, where Gelert is sat. On this cushion of cold comes a young woman her hair dreadlocks of a pale multicoloured hues. Each tone complimenting her pale skin, she wears skin tight black trousers and a white t-shirt with powder blue writing – 'Chill Out Sister' she looks at the trio and raises aneyebrow.

Ice Queen


Duana, who had only begrudgingly stepped into a lace and satin tap pants when Gabriel arrived earlier looks up from her copy of The Oddessy when Maeve arrives. She rises from the couch, drawing her fingertips across Gelert's crown, tickling his muzzle just above his nose before kneeling and prostrating herself before her Queen and Mother. Her ribs, twice battered and broken ache with the effort, Maeve knows, as she were the first to crack them when Duana was just a girl. Still, Duana does not protest.

"My Lady," Duana says, her voice trained to perfect impassiveness. "You honor me."


"I know," states the youthful Queen "I take it this place is to your satisfaction." as she turns to the bay window basking in the chill morning light.

"I hope you are well, the Court misses you and of course my Knight." Maeve says her tone trying to express a warmth that her eyes don't match.

Languidly she leans forward to the kowtowing form, her fingertips barely touching under Duana's chin and she slowly draws her upwards. "So nice to see respect in one so young." cold eyes moving to the hound.

Maeves svelte form radiates beauty, but the cruel uncaring beauty of winter and death.


Gabriel turns and kneels bowing at his waist as he does so his hand resting lightly on the pommel of his sword in a easy familiar manner. He was still getting used to the powers of this world he now found himself in but whenever his hand rested upon the sword the cool of winter and ice seemed to calm his nerves and let him think clearly.

"My Queen, your presence brings honor to us. How may we serve you?" he says as he had been schooled to do so....substantially by Maeve herself after he had failed to do so the first time after he had taken the mantle of her knighthood.

He keeps his eyes locked on the Queen's boots waiting for permission to rise.

The books he had brought to the princess lay forgotten on the small coffee table he had set them on but he couldn't help risk a glance over to Duana....this woman who constantly provoked him into duels that he was forced to abide by due to Maeve's orders. But now her orders rang in his head, "I have an assignment for you, stay with Duana. There is something you should meet in Old York. I’ll let you know soon.” Was her appearing now going to explain his sudden dismissal from her side. He would have to wait...and be patient.


"Well said, or should i say correctly said."

The Queen lifts her boot to gently push Gabriel in the shoulders forcing him to straighten up. Despite him standing at least half a head taller than her Maeves prescence dominates the room.

"So impatient, so mortal." the last word sounding almost a curse. "If you don't wish show me around. We will to cut to the chase, no foreplay then."

She absently picks up a book from the tables, flicking throught it. "I have been looking for something, i finally managed to locate it. The bargining was hard." a cold fury radiates of the Queen.

"But i paid it, oh did i pay their price." She turns to Duana looking her in the eye intensely. "Then last night i lost contact with my courier." Maeve throws the book onto the glass coffee table and it goes straight through it. You can see the book is brittle and each individual page covered in frost.

"Find me my courier, and find me my package. Do this and your reward will be exquisite, fail me and it will be even more exquisite." she says licking her lips and moving predatorially towards the Frost Knight.


Duana rises as Maeve dictates, and shifts her legs so that she sits back on her heels, never so presumptuous as to assume an equal position with the Lady. Her studies as of late have kept her mind occupied, and she had not donned her weapon holster this morning after taking her run on the treadmill consigned to the enormous and scarcely used kitchen. It were also the only room the the house with no windows for her mortal neighbors to stare her nudity. Duana did not prefer to adopt her human guise unless stepping out of the apartment, and even then begrudgingly. The press of satin and silk on her skin was scarcely a replacement for a regular lover, and she had found none to her liking among the mortals she conversed with.

"I miss the court as well, my Lady. It is gracious for you to convey their concern for my well being," Duana answers.

Editing as my post was ninjaed

Duana forces her expression to remain impassive as Maeve destroys her things, but her ribs begin to ache, and her skin tightens as a surge of adrenaline precipitates the signal to flee before she is crushed again.

"What manner of beast would attack a courier of the Winter Court, my Lady? Whom would dare risk your anger?" Duana inquires.


Male Greek/Roman Demigod

I walk in with a military bearing such as what I would expect police types to be more friendly to, I look at the officers rank (will use the correct rank, presuming a sargent by modify speach as appropriate)
"Good Morning Sargent, I believe last night a youth who is a work associate of mine was detained last night and I would like to speak to him please. He is tall and lanky; answers to the name Jason. I am Aximeus Rexis, can you tell me if a Barrister has been assigned to his defense, and if so the Barristers name?"

DSXMachina wrote:

Aximeus

A call wakes you from your bed, looking at the clock it registers 7:30. Getting up gingerly after your night-shift, it was nearing dawn before you got home. Aximeus answers the phone, a worried voice comes through from the other end.

”Hey Axe, it’s me Jason. I don’t know where to turn to man. The cops just kicked down my door this morning and grabbed me. You’ve gotta help. They’re saying I killed someone. Oh man, I’ve got to go now. Help me, I’m at the police station.”

Jason, is one of your colleagues at the bar. A tall lanky youth with a large mop of dark hair almost in an afro, loves listening to old Marley records. He might occasionally smoke too much weed, but he would never kill anyone, surely.

It takes but moments to get to the station, the balding officer behind to desk looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. ”Can I help you Sir?”

Compel: ”Code of Honour”


The portly sergeant that sit behind the desk nods to Aximeus as he starts talking. "That's as may be sir, but you'll have to speak to the detective about this. I'll call him down for you, but i can tell you he won't like it." Behind the bullet-proof glass he rises from his desk and talks to someone on the phone, their conversation is quite terse.

After a few moments the Sergeant retrns to his seat. "Officer Ramsbottom said he is on his way down. If you'll take a chair, he won't be a moment." The sergeant dismisses you from his thoughts and opens a drawer producing a pork pie he sloshes it next to his ear before taking a bite, drips of a liquid jelly avoiding his stab vest.

The 'couple of minutes' stretch into nearly ten before a man comes through the side door to the station proper. Looking at his uniform Aximeus identifies him as an officer. The man in his early thirties if you judge correctly has dark slicked back hair and dark calculating eyes. Aximeus can feel him look you up and down, before he nods to you.

"The sergeant said you were asking to see Jason Hilliard, the charges against him are very serious. May i ask whom am i speaking to? And how do you want me to help you?"


Maeve looks at the Duana, her eyes changing colour from a pale blue to a vivid azure. "That is what i wish you to find out my beautiful daughter." before uncharacteristically adding "I would but there are certain checks that have to be balanced."

"I care not what you do to the courier or the scum that stopped it i just need the package, before..." she checks her tongue, which turns into a feline smile. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You are mine as are your things, but I can treat what is mine nicely. Isn't that right Gabriel."


Oh yes, nicely, Duana muses, thinking on the table that she crushed, heart still beating against the confines of her chest. "It will be as you say, my Lady. As you direct, I will obey."


Male Ferromancer

Accept Compel

Jericho sits up carefully, looking about the room warily. Where am I? What is this place? How did I get here? He stops a moment to check himself, seeing if he retains his glasses, his wallet and other possessions, and most importantly, his father's gauntlet. Whoever put me here... they don't know what I can do. He thinks with a small grin in his dark eyes, noting the mesh and steel toilet pan. Metal and steel... wherever I am... I'm not defenceless.


Jericho

Checking yourself down you find yourself without; wallet, gauntlet, watch or most of your possessions. Although your glasses are on a small plastic table to one side.

A dull throbbing comes from Jericho's knuckles that have been scraped and bloodied. Distantly you remember drinking, a fight in a dark alleyway with a robed man who was moving too quickly to be quite human.

You are snapped out of the reverie as the grill in the door snaps open and a ruddy face looks at you. "You're awake are you Mr Korben, i hope you had a good nights rest." the gruff voice says dripping with sarcasm.


Male Ferromancer

Slipping his sunglasses on impassively, Korben looks at the owner of the voice. "Reasonably. May I inquire as to the reason I'm being held?" He attempts to keep his voice calm and reasonable, not showing his fear.

Rapport Attack:4d3 - 8 ⇒ (2, 1, 1, 2) - 8 = -2


Jericho

Rapport Defence: 4d3 - 8 + 1 ⇒ (1, 3, 1, 3) - 8 + 1 = 1

"Hey, I've had a hard night and scum like you should be getting into fights or resisting arrest." he says you can virtually feel the anger thruming as the duty officer talks.

"Now just be a good lad, eat up and wait to be charged." Jericho can hear; hawking and the grill slams open. A bowl of muesli is pushed through the slot with a wobbling green centre. The grill slams shut.

Twenty minutes later, the door is opened the red-faced duty officer is stood there, sporting a plaster over a well-broken nose. A hearty man, whom probably played rugby in his younger years, now all the muscle has deteriorated. Next to him is a uniformed woman, with cropped brown hair and inquisitive eyes. "Come with me, Interview Room 1." she says in a warm voice.

The sound-proofed room is more friendly than the last. The woman takes a seat and motions for you to sit opposite. With a grunt the duty officer closes the door. "So Jericho, may i call you that? Who are you? What happened last night? Whom did you have that fracas with? And what is this?" she says kindly putting a rusted iron manacle on the desk.

Silence stretches, with only the whir of a tape recorder.

Rapport Attack 4d3 - 8 + 2 ⇒ (1, 2, 3, 2) - 8 + 2 = 2
You can defend with Rapport or Empathy


Male Temple Hound (Wyld Fey)

Gelert's hackles go up as Ice-Eyes Red-lips Maeve turns her frosty gaze upon him and he rumbles as she lays a hand upon his mistress. The leonine ruff around his head stands on end and his tail goes straight, his ears pressed flat against his massive head until she releases her touch on Duana. Still, he refuses to take his lupine eyes off of her and he follows her every movement with his head, hackles trembling the slightest bit no matter who she addresses or where she moves.

Remove thy hands from the Mistress...Dangerous, frozen-eyes means harm, can mean harm. Danger...

He flashes Duana a look from his eyes then returns his full attention to Maeve, keeping his body low to the ground. His muscles coil from anticipation, ready to spring should the Ice Lady strike out at his mistress. While she did not smell as if she meant harm, she still smelt...wrong, too cold for flesh.

Througout the duel the great Fey Hound had followed his Mistress' movements with his eyes, body as still as a stone statue should he need to leap in to defend her against the fey lord. Several times he had growled in his basso roar of a voice when he saw and smelled Duana's blood being spilt but he had restrained himself. Honor was important to her, so it was to him as well. Now, in an apartment, he barely spares the owner, the ice-steel swordsman, Gabriel, a glance, intent as he is on watching Maeve's every move.


Winter Group

Maeve looks at the trio with cold eyes, "Yes, my hunters will track this down for me. Their watery blood allows them to move and act freely, despite being my hands." she says to herself, or maybe to another?

The Queen moves over to the couch and nearly falls into it. As she lifts her legs to rest her heels on the coffee table, the shards of glass on the floor seem to melt, coagulate and reform into a flat surface. But this has a large and intricate snowflake pattern.

Moving her head slowly to look at the Hound; "Don't look at me like that. You are mine despite what petty protections 'He' has put on you." she says not bringing herself to say the name of the Erkling.

Her demeanour changes one more; Maeve leans back in the couch with a comfortable sensuality. "I see the questions in your eyes. Ask and i will answer, if it is permitted."


Gabriel shivers at the deluge of memories....That day he had been taken by Maeve...freezing in that sudden blizzard his leg broken..half frozen....She had shown him power....

He shuddered once more balking away from those memories and merely nods to Maeve's question on how she treats her things.

Looking up into Maeve's eyes he regards her silently before speaking.

"Does Mab know of this m'lady?" he says quietly his voice low.


At the name of her Senior Queen at Court, Maeve quickly rises looking straight at Gabriel.

"The Mother Mab has permitted me to act, My Knight." Maeve says suddenly grabbing the back of his head by the hair and kissing him passionately and possessively. Before spinning around back down to the sofa. 'Getting better'

"The Queen has allowed me, leeway with my project. She thinks the cost is too great for me, but I need it to be recovered."


Duana raises an eyebrow at the sight of her mother kissing her knight. Am I supposed to be offended? This mortal is garbage.

"Do we have your permission to dispose of the perpetrator?" Duana inquires cautiously. "And what of the courier? One who has failed you, my Lady, surely cannot be trusted with any task in the future."


Gabriel ducks his head looking away hiding his faint blush as well as the impulse to rub his slightly bruised lips, as he looks over to the large hound that had remaind mostly motionless since the arrival of their Queen.

At Duana's words he frowns and looks back over to her trying to avoid looking down at her skimpy outfit and instead focus's his eyes upon her face. This girl...what makes her look for violence at the first chance? he thinks to himself then glances over to Maeve.

"Will you be staying here in York long my queen? Or are we to do this task on our own, and if I may ask where do we start our search?"


Male Greek/Roman Demigod

<darn paizo post monster>
(did the desk seargant have a wedding ring on his finger?)

I snap to attention giving him my scrutiny then relax a bit and offer my hand to shake, firm not crushing.
"Good Morning Sir, I am Aximeaus Rexis. I have come at Jason Hilliard's request to see him and ascertain his condition. Serious charges, you say, I dont believe it. There is nothing serious about that boy; no serious convictions, beliefs or politics. He has no training or skills other than primary school and that of busing and waiting tables. I wouldn't call him meek to his face; but me thinks him more likely to crawl into a ball than even fight back against bullish behavior. Has he been assigned and seen a Barrister yet Sir? What are these serious charges leveled against him?

And if I may Detective Sir; you have a familiar air about you; might I inquire if you have served in the Military?

(I on the other hand; do have the look of a trained and experienced soldier and a hard man; also, I will probably need to know how long I have known Jason; weeks; months; yikes..days)

DSXMachina wrote:

The portly sergeant that sit behind the desk nods to Aximeus as he starts talking. "That's as may be sir, but you'll have to speak to the detective about this. I'll call him down for you, but i can tell you he won't like it." Behind the bullet-proof glass he rises from his desk and talks to someone on the phone, their conversation is quite terse.

After a few moments the Sergeant retrns to his seat. "Officer Ramsbottom said he is on his way down. If you'll take a chair, he won't be a moment." The sergeant dismisses you from his thoughts and opens a drawer producing a pork pie he sloshes it next to his ear before taking a bite, drips of a liquid jelly avoiding his stab vest.

The 'couple of minutes' stretch into nearly ten before a man comes through the side door to the station proper. Looking at his uniform Aximeus identifies him as an officer. The man in his early thirties if you judge correctly has dark slicked back hair and dark calculating eyes. Aximeus can feel him look you up and down, before he nods to you.

"The sergeant said you were asking to see Jason Hilliard, the charges against him are very serious. May i ask whom am i speaking to? And how do you want me to help you?"


Male Ferromancer

Still waiting on an answer.


Male Temple Hound (Wyld Fey)

Gelert sniffs at Maeve and gives her a look too intelligent for any normal dog at the idea that she 'owns' him, but he cannot resist a shiver going down his spine at the mention of the Hunt-Master. He growls low in his throat, tail flat on the floor, then his ears perk up at the Mistress' mention of Ice-Queen Mab and the reaction it drew from Maeve. The animal-like reaction made Gelert cock his head to the side as she locked mouths with the swordsman and he looked up at Duana, chuffing out a breath like a grunt and then laid his massive head in her lap to try and comfort her, knowing she was in pain. In times like these, he portrayed the large, loveable mountain of fur for consoling as perfectly as ever.


Jericho

"Mr Korben, you were found in a snikket (alley). With blood on your hands and clothes. Smelling of alcohol, when the Officer on scene approached you and tried to restraint you he was struck." The detective continues. "You have not been charged with anything, we just want some answers. Whom did you fight? Why did you have these manacles?" (which you know are not yours)

Jericho:
Sorry if this is too vague, tell me and i will firm everything up. I was just trying to go for a slow burn.

Aximeus

RE:Wedding Ring 1d2 ⇒ 1 Evens Yes

"Yes, i did serve Queen and Country. One tour of Northern Ireland." Which puts the man at a handful of years older than you guessed, but he has the polished look of an officer. "I can see you are a serious man, if you'll can this way i can answer your questions, in private." The man sits you down in an interview room off the main entrance.

"I am afraid Jason was seen fleeing the scene of a murder, he had blood on him. I know this is circumstantial at the moment, but he is at the least a material witness. He is refusing to speak therefore we had to charge him. However he has a court appointed solicitor coming soon."

Investigation Roll, please Aximeus


Winter Trio

"Do what you wilt with the Courier someone who fails me is of no concern to me. Although, Tybalt is not of my Court. He is a wyldfae, a gnome who has contacts. He lives on a ship that rides the waters of the river, 'the Saucy Sue'." Maeve looks calmly into the distance. "As for the cause of this well...the perpetrator is yours, my Princess. Show your mother your abilty, make me proud."


Male Ferromancer

"I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. I don't drink, and I wouldn't fight unless my life was in danger. Have you appointed me a lawyer? How long can you hold me without charging me?" Jericho asks, the implication obviously angering him.

I'd like to check if this man's with the police, Alertness or Investigation?
Roll:4d3 - 8 + 2 ⇒ (3, 2, 3, 1) - 8 + 2 = 3 +3 from glasses if Alertness.


Duana lets her hand down and pets Gelert's crown, scratching idly behind his left ear. His presence, as always, is a comfort. It may be perceived as a weakness, but the massive hound was of the hunt, as she was, and had taken far less damage than she. She recalled how he was the only creature that had shown any devotion in her slow recovery, although since... Many at Court seemed to be interested in the scars that predominated on her midsection. The contrast between the unbroken, soft skin of her breasts and the ruin of her tummy excited the more feral members of Court, and those who would never belong.

Duana smiles when Maeve gives her permission to hunt, and nods, sparing a glance for Gelert. "As you wish, my Lady," she says in English.


Male Temple Hound (Wyld Fey)

Gelert wags his tail up at Duana and opens his muzzle in a wide doggy grin, perking his ears up at the mention of hunting and his heavy tail thumps repeatedly against the floor. He gives Maeve another too-intelligent look for suspicion then looks back at Duana and gives a small rumble of pleasure as she pets under his chin then licks her hand.

He looks then at the door expectantly, wanting already to run and jump and Hunt again with his Mistress, to be away from the ice-cold Fey creatures of the Courts and to enjoy the simple wild pleasure of the Hunt again. He hoped that the swordsman, Gabriel, could keep up, then gave the man a doggy grin of his own and cocked his head at him playfully.


Changling Spellsinger Physical: [] [] [] Mental: [] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

Nice Start! Guess I'd better start catching up! :)

So what's the weather like in York this time of year? ;)

Compel accepted. +1 Fate points, right?

Danny ran his hand through his curly hair in frustration. He wasn't late yet, but at the rate he was going that wouldn't last long. He was still too new to York, trying to get the city's layout in his head. He had made contacts with the locals 'in the know', and had set up a meeting with a local Changling. This changeling could supposedly fill him in on the name he was chasing. IF he could find the blighter. He sighed in exasperation, then let the tension fade. Getting all worked up wouldn't find the silly address. All he had to do was ask someone for directions. At least the place the changeling wanted to meet sounded alright. A bookstore called, 'The Unicorn's Inn'. He hoped he would at least be able to get a decent cup of coffee there. That would hit the spot.

And a bonus. After a month, and having called in a TEENY favor from the girls, (much to his personal frustration, and the twins' delight.) Danny had finally broken ground in the local music scene. He had a possible gig lined up, and the person he was supposed to meet was only a block or two away. he could stop by and introduce himself in person after his meeting.

'IF I ever find the bloody place!' Danny grumbled to himself.

'Yeah. I definitely like York so far. I can cuss, and it doesn't sound like cussing! At least not to my 'Ill-bred American ways'.' heheh. Danny smiled to himself, remembering the dressing down he had received from an elderly man his first day on the street of York, trying to make contacts.

Smiling openly, Danny reaches out a hand to the nearest person walking by.

"Excuse me. I seem to have gotten turned around. I'm looking for a bookstore, 'The Unicorn's Inn'. Do you know where it is? I thought it was at this corner, but,..." Danny shrugs with a sheepish grin.

Empathy= 4d3 - 8 + 2 ⇒ (2, 3, 3, 1) - 8 + 2 = 3


Jericho Korben

You are in the Police Station in York.

The woman sat opposite you inclines her head slightly as if conceding a point. "You want a lawyer." 'They always do' "Well, I am just asking a few questions... but if you are determined. Then i am going to have to release you without charge. Interview Over." She rises letting out a gasp of frustration and turns off the recorder.

"Your things are this way." The detective says turning towards the holding desk.

All your items are checked off and placed in front of you. Then the detective puts the rusty manacles on the desk in front of you. As they slightly brush your hand memories come flooding back in a rush....

'You were walking through the city streets, you heard a screech. Looking down a moon-lit alley, you see a figure shrouded in darkness. Something doesn't look right about they way it moves, it's stood over another figure holding a pale box; a small pale man coated in blood.

The dark figure turns to you and lets out a scream that numbs the senses. Feeling dazed by the attack, Jericho is nearly barreled over by the creature as it charges at him. There's a brief scuffle you remember getting a few good punches in as your mind recovers from the psychic assault.

A manacle swings from the cloaked figures' wrist, using your powers you grab it and throw the thing against a wall. The manacle is ripped from its hand and a gout of blood sprays everywhere. The cloaked figure flees into the night.

Jericho rises staggered, in the fight you must have hit your head as it all seems blurry as you stagger away.... you remember a police man... flashing blue lights....

"So, if you want to help us with our inquiries or feel like remembering anything, call me." The Detective says pressing her card into your hand.


Winter Wonderland

The boat is docked on the river downstream. Maybe the package is still there... AN Ivory Box, so big." Quuen Maeve says holding up her hands 12"x7"x4". "I know you would not fail me. Any other questions before i take my leave? I will return home, use this to contact me. Just look into it and say 'I am the fairest of them all'."

She places an exquisitely crafted hand mirror on the tabletop. Made out of crystal that seems to radiate a pale blue light. Maeve rises and turns to her daughter, her Champion and the Winter Hound; waits for any questions....

Compel (Duana): “Wear it in silence or I will honor you again
Compel(Gelert): “On the Hunt
Compel(Gabriel): “ The Queen's Words


Danny

A heavy set man with a thick bushy beard turns around at your question. "Aye, nah fromt' these parts ain't the'. Well, t' Unicorn, I know it down one t' gunnels. Ah that's rit'. If y' gan down thar' t' rit' then stay left upt' 'ill, it'll be third ont' left. Ye can't miss it." He says in a heavy brogue and moves his strong weathered hands.

Danny follows the vague directions, finding himself outside a beautiful bookshop. The pine facade blends in with the beautiful stone, it is almost as if it was not meant to be found. A few patrons are inside and a heavy aroma of coffee pervades the building as you enter.

Books line shelves around the shop, with tables sporadically grouped tightly together in the centre. A young woman with a genuine smile stands behind a counter as she cleans up.

Correct RE: Compel


Danny

A wizened old woman with mahogany skin reaches up and taps you on the shoulder. "Danny Kaye, i believe you were meant to be meeting Mr Tybalt." she says with a smile that causes her many wrinkles to crease up, giving you a kindly impression.


Compel Accepted.

Duana, still in a supplicant's position, although with Gelert in her lap, bows her head to Maeve in salute and says nothing. There was no love in the creature Duana called mother at all. Since the moment Duana could speak Maeve had orchestrated various scenarios to silence her, each of them permanent. Duana keeps her head down, and even her eyes from her mother until the woman passes, not wishing to provoke her wrath.


Male Temple Hound (Wyld Fey)

Compel Accepted

Gelert's ears perk up and he stares at Maeve, his lupine eyes gauging what she said, silently concoting what the box might look like. He chuffs out a breath and allows Maeve a single small doggy grin as assurance of his aid, then resumes laying his head on his Mistress' lap, tail occassionally thumping the floor. He looks up at Duana and licks her wrist, then backs up and looks between the door and her, panting and eager to go out to stretch his legs.


Changling Spellsinger Physical: [] [] [] Mental: [] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10
DSXMachina wrote:

Danny

A wizened old woman with mahogany skin reaches up and taps you on the shoulder. "Danny Kaye, i believe you were meant to be meeting Mr Tybalt." she says with a smile that causes her many wrinkles to crease up, giving you a kindly impression.

Danny smiled in pleasant incomprehension at the man's heavy brogue, but manages to make his way.

He gives the older woman a big smile, the one that everyone says makes him look 10 years old, and nods happily.

"Mr Tybalt, yes, that's right. I hope I'm not late, I'm new to York. Still learning my way around." He states the obvious without his usual pretense at the local accent.

"Nice place." He adds looking around. Danny gazes in open admiration at the old-styled bookshelves around him. Next to singing, reading is Danny's favorite obsession. Er, pastime. He gives a small wistful sigh as he gazes at the stacks. Then notices something odd about the arrangment of the shelves,... Not the open space in the center, that's fairly common to a lot of shops lately,... Then it strikes him. The Shelves are all large, old, and heavy. Probably made of oak, although he's no expert. What he first took for shadows and natural swirls of the wood are in fact light but intricately detailed carvings. He recognizes a few of them, symbols used in magic use. The rows of shelves are off too, they don't line up with the shelves opposite them. While this has the probably intended effect of making the bookshop a pleasant experience of wandering in & out of aisles that make the shop seem larger than it really is, it would also have the effect of dissipating any mystical energies that may be be gathered and unleashed in the shop, either intentionally or accidentally.

This shop is one of the 'Neutral Grounds' provided for in the Accords.

Danny turns to smile at the lady once more, and actually relaxes a little. (He hadn't even realized how tense he was.) If this is Neutral ground, then no matter the disposition of the person or persons here, they had to at least pretend to behave civilly.


Male Ferromancer

Korben accepts his things graciously and leaves quickly. Someone was doing something... with that box. And it ended up with me in jail, at least for a moment. I need to look into this. He hurries down the street, headed for the alley he'd been attacked in. "Ivory is a symbol of Innocence, Virtue, Purity, Opulence. Identical properties to teeth, good for carving small objects. Ivory that size, placed together, would be very difficult to find, unless it was cobbled of smaller pieces. Ivory in other languages. French is Ivoire, Spanish Marfil, Turkish Fildisi." Korben mutters under his breath, paying little attention to his surroundings and lost in thought. To the crime scene... then it's time for research. He smiles and rubs his short hair. Suppose that's what I'm best at.


Compel Accepted

"Will there be any interference from Summer m'lady? he asks quietly looking, but not directly, at Maeve's face.

His fingers begin an unconcious drum upon the hilt of his sword but with an effort of will folds his arms across his chest adn then moves over to look out the window thinking. As he awaits his queen's answer.


Winter Wonders

Maeve looks around the group; "Summer, probably not, there are only a few of her servants around at this time. Though as the Spring progresses i am sure there will be more."

As look of puzzlement crosses her face. "Why is everyone so on edge; I am not going to bite." she says opening her mouth in a grin to reveal rows of overlapping razor sharp teeth like a shark, before they fade back to normal. "The courier, Tybalt is wyld-fae. He has connections throughout the realms. So although punishing him may be proper, there are certain concessions I am sure you could get; if you are clever, my daughter."


It came as no surprise that Maeve was informed of Duana's dalliances. That sidhe should lay with wyld fae was no surprise to any. Amid battles, passion was known to inspire all manner of pleasurable experiences, and Duana was far more war-like than most, or so it appeared. When one's mother is second only to the Queen of Air and Darkness, and related to her by blood as well... Duana had been steeped in violence since she were but a child.

Duana simply nods, making her acquiescence to Maeve's request known.


Jericho

Walking through the busy streets of York, the frosty February air hits you. The pavements and cobbles have the faintest sheen of ice on them, but you hardly notice this. Your pace unconciously quickens as the thoughts run through your head.

Soon you find yourself the other side of the river, a host of residential buildings before you. Winding your way through the narrow alleys, Jericho works out the place where the police picked him up. From there the fragmented memories are pieced together and is able to retrace the steps taken the night before.

At the head of an alleyway is the striped plastic tape of the police force. Only a barrier to those that believe it is, unfortunately beyond that is a uniformed officer and a couple of people in baggy white plastic overalls. The scene resembles a horror movie, blood and gore is sprayed across the brick walls in streaks. The crime scene investigators mopping up the detritous of life and the human body, whilst trying to get clues.

The uniformed constable is a young woman whose massive utility belt and stab vest make her quite stout, as she sees Jericho she dismisses him with a slight nod used to the gawkers at this scene.


Danny

The wizened woman sits down on a stool resting her ebony cane on the table. "Glad, you were able to find the place. As i said unfortunately Mr Tybalt cannot join you today, he passed on last eve." she says rearranging her patterned head scarf.

"The agents of Winter are in town, it would not surprise me if they had a hand in it." she says carefully watching the young mans reaction to this news. The rest of the customers in the shop are oblivious to your presence, reading or drinking studiously.

"Tybalt had many enemies, connections and friends, I was a amongst them." The crone enigmatically continues whilst placing cube after cube of sugar into her cup of tea. "I see what you want Mr Kaye, however there is certain knowledge that is difficult to obtain. The location of your mother is one."

"If you get me a list of Mr Tybalts contacts, i can arrange for you to speak to a spirit that has more readily available information on the matter." Her face creases up into a mass of wrinkles as she sups her tea, with a loud smacking noise from her lips.

"He has a barge docked down by the park, his contact book is what i need..."


Aximeus

You have known Jason for at least a couple of months, since coming to the City

"I think i can let you talk to Jason if you want; provided I can observe. Of course, nothing admissable in a Court of Law." The quaffed detective informs Aximeus. "I just want to see justice done, i have no interest in persecuting the innocent."


Changling Spellsinger Physical: [] [] [] Mental: [] [] [] [] Social: [] [] [] [] FP:10

In the Bookstore,...

Danny gives a little sigh, not at the mention of Winter, as the lady was obviously expecting, but at the placement of yet another obstacle on the path of his seemingly eternal quest.

'WHY am I NOT surprised. I think I'm gonna have a heart attack and die from NOT surprise!' Danny consoles himself with yet another of his seemingly endless supply of movie quips.

"Location? I'd settle for a name! All I know is what my dad called her. Everyone either can't, or won't, tell me her bloody NAME!" Danny grumbles aloud. He immediately looks contrite, and holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. It's so terribly frustrating,... I didn't mean to,..." His eyes then widen to pie plates as he looks horrified.

"Oh my,... I am SO sorry. I'm so wrapped up in my own world, I didn't even realize,... You say Mr Tybalt died? What happened?" He asks, still trying to process the sudden influx of information about Tybalt, winter and his mother into a semblance of comprehension.

Later into the conversation.
"You need his address book? From his barge? I would think that a friend of his would be more comfortable going into his,.. Ah. Ah hah. The barge was his home, wasn't it? It has a threshhold, doesn't it?" He asks, a small smile escaping his lips as he puts together another piece of a puzzle.

'Don't know why I'm surprised. Again, at the fact that she's not human. 'Heart attack-die- NOT surprise!''


Danny

The woman takes another sip of her tea, the steam still pouring off it. You recognise a glint in her eye as if to say 'this one shows promise, he learns fast'.

The porcelain cup is returned to the saucer with only a slight tinkle as if she cannot hold it longer. "Scone?" she asks making the word into two syllables. "Yes, he was clever. The running water, the threshold he was scared, or sensible. But now the threshold has been deteriorated, by the water, the daybreaks and the fact he used his home as his business."

To one side table a long haired man argues with a sylph, before storming outside. As your attension returns to the old woman you notice a newly arrived tray of scones and cream. "So, Mr Kaye do we have a deal. I will be here awaiting your return." The white haired woman says.


Male Ferromancer

Jericho returns the nod, and casually leans against the wall, looking through the glass of his glasses and making it distort in odd patterns. Anyone looking through the glasses can see that the distortion is picking up on far off things and making them seem closer, thereby working as binoculars and magnifying glass.

Checking the Scene, Investigation:4d3 - 8 + 2 ⇒ (3, 2, 1, 2) - 8 + 2 = 2

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