investigation; no skill at it
"yes sir, I would like to speak with him. Was it human blood; he does work in the kitchen and we do some butchering; keep our food fresh as we can; fair amount of blood gets on my apron and sometimes splashes on my clothes. I had thought that most people got shot or blown up these days, actual blood meansa beating or stabbing; hmm, wonder if Jason has any first aid or advanced medical training; probably tried to help and jumped into something deep as the Channel, cold too apparently. Hmm, I was on a joint mission with the SRR in North Africa some time back; we had this terrorist who like to hurt people then take out first responders and anyone who came to help. Bad one that one, but we gave him his."
while i am here on the way to see Jason, will take a look as we are walking at their security measures
Aximeus
"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."
Aximeus
"It was human blood, we believe it was the victims. He was seen fleeing the scene, i know this is circumstantial but until the test results and SOCO lads come back to us we are holding him." The officer tells you as her leads Aximeus through the door to the holding cells.
As they walk Aximeus notices a badge under the Detectives lapel. A metal badge with an unusual Heraldry. Recollecting Aximeus saw something similar in Algers, when helping the French Foreign Legion hold on. The man mysterious talked to you about it and 'The Order of Saint John'.
The detective sits you down in a more austere interview room. "Wait here, I'll just go and get Jason."
Jericho
Looking about the scene, blood and viscera abound. Through the glasses, it creates a barrier allowing a person to forget that this blood is the last remnants of a beings mortality.
The blood is splattered across the walls indicating blunt trauma, not blades. There are scratches on the walls as if a flail or chain was used. Looking carefully you notice small voids where the blood should have been. After a few moments considering it, the best possibility is that it was because of ectoplasm. Meaning that drops of ectoplasm were splattered on the wall along with the victims blood.
The CSI/SOCO police officers are taking samples, the body has long gone. Observing their demeanour they will soon be leaving and letting the cleaners in to sanitise the alley.
Jericho watches with interest, making sure he hasn't missed anything obvious, then turns towards the university. Need to check the Lore. Any mention of an ivory box. Perhaps Les Cercles de Stabilisation Temporelle? I'm sure I remember something mentioning it.
Korben enters the University library and nods at Becca, the librarian he had a good relationship with, and scowling at Rick, who was an ass. Jericho quickly had a collection of books spread before him, poring through them.
Jericho
Rick talks in such a loud voice that it reverberates through the atria of the library. His voice droning on about how he has been performing in the varsity rugby team to poor Becca, futily trying to impress the girl. It puts you off your research; you manage to find something about a 14th Centuary box that is held at the Cathedral. Confiscated from a witch, Edwina Hawthorn, who was using it to hold the nose bone of St. John.
In one of the books a marking catches your eye, you have seen that before, recently too...
Lords & Lady of Winter
Maeve looks at you all, raises an eyebrow. "Don't open the box" she says in a commanding tone. With a pivot of her hips turns and leaves the apartment.
The air suddenly seems degrees warmer and the silence that starts to stretch before the sounds of the world intrude back in. A goose honks outside the window, a car slowly trundles down the lane.
Gabriel watches Mave leave out of the corner of his eye before going over to where he had thrown his dark blue cloak and throws it on feeling the familiar comfort of his magic settle about him.
Then he look over to the Princess and her dog. "So when do you want to go to this dock? Better now then later aye? Or did you want to grab some food first m'lady?" he asks.
Aximeus
A young man is shown into the room by the detective, his hair dreadlocked hair is greasy, wearing prison issue clothes. His heavily bagged eyes sparkle as he sees Aximeus. Rushing over the youth nearly knocks down a chair. "Oh man am i glad to see you." a darkness passes across his face.
"It terrible, i didn't do anything and there keeping me her locked up i cannot believe it I was only trying to help that old git next thing i know the pigs break down my door." The detective stood silently in the doorway smiles at this insult as the lad carries on speaking barely pausing for breath. "I was just helping him as you showed us always help those in need you said i tried but like failed it's not fair you know the old man was bleeding so much when i found him in the alley."
Jason pauses for breath before continuing; "Yeah, I just grabbing an ounce from Li and I heard a fight in the alley the old man was on the floor bleeding. He swiped at me with his knife you know, bastard cut my hand. But he was just on the floor bleeding, you know I didn't do anything like. I cannot believe how much he bled. I tried to save him you know like the CPR you taught me like. But he just died, it was like terrible, he just said 'Harvey Lane' and then he stopped breathing. It was you know like terrible." Jasons words slow down realisation and the terror of the night dawning on him.
"You know, he was like dead, you know. I couldn't do anything so i wasn't like waiting for the pigs (police) they'd do me for the grass so i like grabbed the knife you know forensics." The lad says obviously thinking he is bright. "Then i went home, threw the clothes in for wash. Lit up a joint, to mellow out & then the pigs came."
Then he look over to the Princess and her dog. "So when do you want to go to this dock? Better now then later aye? Or did you want to grab some food first m'lady?" he asks.
"It speaks with it's mistress's voice, does it not, Gelert?" Duana speaks to her companion using the high language of the court as she scratches beneath his chin. "It does not believe that we've the way of the hunt. Is it not amusing?" she hums, and lifts her face and turns it to fairly glare at the knight.
"Whichever purpose it is that my Lady sent you here with me, I've little concern for," she says in highly accented English, and rises, pushing her dark hair back from her face, revealing her wholly sidhe features, as if her near complete nudity and her wyld fae companion were not reminder enough.
"If we are to step out of this apartment this morning, I require clothing. Powerful as my innate magics are," Duana gives a soft smile, "I cannot craft clothing from the very air. Although I do believe your attention to such silly conventions far exceeds any lengths I am willing to go to."
Duana chuckles and turns away from Gabriel, headed towards her bedroom. "You are welcome to join me, if my Mothers lips did not satisfy," she calls over her shoulder, provoking further.
Gabriel roll shis eyes as he listens to the girl.Just like every other fey He looks over to the dog and asks it not expecting an answer.
"She always this annoying?"
With that said he rolls his eyes again and contiues to look out the window thinking on the task ahead.
Gelert gave the too-cold human a chuffing breath and then a look far too intelligent for any normal hound, as if to say "What do you think?" then he chuffs again, wags his tail and turns to trot after his Mistress. He jumps up unbidden onto her bed and curls up like a gargantuan pomeranian and looks back at his Mistress with ears raised, tail wagging as if this was his bed and she merely allowed to lay upon it, rather than the actual other way around. He opened his mouth in a wide doggy grin, drooping jowls covering the long white fangs as he then licks his nose, yawns cavernously, and lays his head on one of the pillows, sighing deeply.
Comfy, safe. Mistress safe. Soft....
Jericho
Reading the book: His story of Europe - Dark History of the Dark Ages. In a section about Germanic Folkfore.
You have seen some sort of runes or carvings somewhere but you just cannot place them. They are probably Scandanavian.
Nordic Runes crafted to contain magical energies. Runic magic that channels and allows the transference of energies. The runes are carved in such a way that it might also be a makers mark, personalised to the crafter.
Your Glove, has something similar but it is if the energies are redirected. The runes appear to be forged into your glove differently but with the same methodology as depicted in the book. Read the below spoilers.
You have seen runes like this on the manacles. They seem to hold some sort of mystical energies. Read the below spoilers.
It is a spirit binding mark or rune. Allowing the person in the manacle to take on form but they are bound. The manacles are of fresh manufacture, you can virtually see the tool markings. They will have been crafted within a season. Read the below spoilers.
The Marking is of the God Balder, a Norse god, craftsman and gracious host. They act as both a makers mark and depict their use. They bind a ghost to ectoplasm but the person who puts the manacle on commands the spirit. It can be removed only by someone of the crafters blood or perscribed methodology (damage ghost, command word, ghost completed his duty)
IMPORTANT NOTE: Jericho. The spoilers that say read the below spoilers mean the ones that your roll also achieved. Ie a roll of a 4 means to read the 4, 3, 2 & 1 spoilers NOT the 5&6 ones
"So, Mr Kaye do we have a deal. I will be here awaiting your return." The white haired woman says.
Danny gives a little smirk. Not one of the big, 'I know something you don't' or 'I'm smarter than you' smirks. On Danny this size smirk probably translates to;
'Typical. To get something I first have to give something. And I won't realize how valuable what I gave up was until it's too late.'Danny adds two sugars to his cup, and pours the tea on top. He takes an experimental sip, nods in appreciation, and helps himself to a scone.
"You know, I think I'm going to like York. So completely unlike the US. Tea! The tea doesn't have the same kick as coffee, even as weak as I make it, but it makes you feel better, I think." He takes a sip and nibbles at his scone thoughtfully.
"Do I really have a choice? I mean, really?" He asks the lady with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows.
"Of course we have a deal. I'll fetch you the address book, and in return you'll tell me about my mother. All that you know, or can find out." He clarifies politely, but firmly. He's relatively new to the game, but being forcibly drafted into Fairie politics makes one a fast learner.
"I don't suppose you know of anyone else who might be looking for his address book? Or maybe anything, or anyone, else I might need to be aware of? I don't dislike surprises, but I've recently learned to be wary of them." He explains politely, sipping his tea.
Duana hears the frost knight mumble something after her, but has no more care for his opinion than for Maeve's. She gives a smile when Gelert curls up on their bed, and takes the opportunity provided by undressing to stretch her long legs and stiff back, arching hers like a cat poised to strike for a moment as she slips out of the tap pants. The stench of ozone, and something like fear clings to the satin, now, like the impression left by an unsatisfactory sexual partner. Duana hooks the panties onto her large toe and kicks them towards the modest collection of items to be laundered.
Having divorced herself of mortal conventions, Duana gives a nod to Gelert before crossing the room and entering her closet. Within, courtesy Maeve's contributions to her new life, hung all manner of conservative outfits the contemporary mortals termed "vintage."
Duana could scarcely believe that merely in the blink of an eye, mortals had gone from espousing values confusing them with virtues to slinging filth at each other in the streets, still... Duana felt a certain amount of thrill pulling silk stockings up to garter suspenders and a pair of lacy briefs over them. then accented the look with an obsidian blade strapped to her left thigh. The longline bra that supported her modest bust provided excellent cover for a garote. All was effortlessly concealed beneath an expertly tailored dress of charcoal flannel slit up the front for a cross draw should a situation escalate to violence. In her decorative clutch bag, where she had seen other women keep cosmetics and paints, Duana kept a pair of brass knuckles, a cellphone that was never turned on, and a spare pair of gloves. Just inside the door to the closet, Duana stuffs her feet into patent leather pumps with three and a half inch heels, having completely confidence that she can engage in combat with them on her feet and not break a sweat.
Having dressed, Duana exits the closet and gives a nod to Gelert, tugging her lace gloves over her slender wrist. The only article distinguishing Duana from a period fashion plate is the absence of a pillbox hat with a veil, her mortal guise nigh perfect.
"Come then," she says to Gelert, striding to the door with posture straight and radiating poise. "We cannot afford to disappoint."
Duana's stiletto heels scarcely touch the the hardwood surface of the floors in the riverside apartment as she approaches Gabriel, seemingly lost in thought at her window. I might end his torment now, she muses, creeping up upon him.
Jason, I was gonna ask you how are you holding up, but now I guess I know. Dude, you gotta chill. Take some deep breaths. Getting all agitated you miss stuff and you need your wits about you and a clear head.
Say what you like, but insulting the police; is that smart? You gottaa be smart. I suggest you be polite after all, you can always change your mind later; but start off calling everyone names; well, gets hard to change their mind later; get my dift? Be smart.
Look, I know it ain't fun in the lockup; but hey, your not in some Turkish prison or being held by some warlord or some Asian Tyrant. These guys; their all civilized right decent folk; you can't blame em for being upset about someone getting killed. I figured you was probably trying to help; civil responsibility and all, but dont worry. These police arent dumb, had you your eyes on and head clear; you might have seen that this detective wears a badge of the "Order of St. John" that mean anything to you? Probably not, but I tell you, I fought alongside em at Algers and one thing you aught to consider; aight nobody foolish enough to wear a badge of a Saint and not walk the straight and narrow. Be dishonorable.
Helping that guy,even though he got killed; that was the right thing; am damn proud of you. Never feel bad about doing the right thing. Tell me again; where was this alley and what happened. I know a few people, can check to see if any spooks are involved, might have been just a robbery or something; but then again; maybe not. You're not alone in this Jason, you asked for my help and your gonna get it.
Jericho examines his glove. Scandanavian. Norsemen, violent and primitive, but with an odd honor. A maker's mark seems typical of them. Be sure all see your good craftsmanship. And runes are traditionally associated. I'll have to look into this more somehow. Jericho stands and begins placing the books back, thinking all the while. 14th century. No... must be older for that sort of thing. Recycled by a new user. Had the bones of a saint. Keeping his power? Finally, with a dramatic flap of his coat, Jericho turns, hexes Rick's quite annoying cell phone, and exits to the campus outside, a destination burning in his mind.
Aximeus will know about Vikings and Runes.
Alertness
Gabriel muses looking out the window thinking back on his mortal life.
"Will I ever be able to see my family? Or will Maeve ever let me go? he says outloud slightly under his breath before shaking his head and calls out hoping not to be rude.
"M'lady we really should be hurrying the faster we accomplish this quest the sooner we can enjoy the city if you so wish it."
"Idiot," Duana hisses, hearing Gabriel's words. "What manner of assistance do you believe you will be to me, much less to her if you are unable to discern even basic truths?" Duana inquires.
"Look at me," Duana commands, "now look at that table. You mortal, are that table. She can decorate you with a vase, or a pretty cloth," Duana sneers at Gabriel's costume, "but she will just as soon destroy you as quickly if you outlive your usefulness. Your family means nothing to her until you make them an issue.
"Sooner shout of our love before a mirror," Duana growls, and looks to Gelert. Envy him, Mortal. He has more freedom than either of us.
Aximeus
Jason has a chargined look at your words; "Yeah sorry man. Sorry Officer" he says to the detective. Whose face darkened into a slight scowl at the mention of 'The Order of St. John'.
Jason starts talking slowly and composed. "Thanks Ax, you always know what to say and what's going down. That's why I called you. Here's how it went down. I bought some pot of my dealer mate." Jason says bowing his head avoiding Aximeus' eyes.
"On the way back to my flat, there was this bloody man in an alley. I thought of what you said about helping people and rushed to him. At the other end of the alley a hoodie, or it might have been something weird. He seemed to be covered in darkness, I saw the glint of some chains in his hands. He was fighting with some other man, they had their backs to me. The fight ended abruptly, some glints of flying metal, i was concentrating more on the dying man."
"He cut me with a knife, it's at my flat. He said the name 'Harvey Lane' then died. That's about it i went home, now I am here." Jason concludes.
Officer Ramsbottom, beckon's Aximeus over and outside the room. "So you know of the Order? You're more than you seem. Look, you know us; you should know we are secret order. Over here the regular police don't have groups 'In the know'. It's up to people like me to try and stop things like that."
"Now, I'll give my card. Jason, will be looked after, but normally his defence is quite shakey. If you could...."
<Aximeus' phone starts ringing>
Danny
"Everyone has a choice" the old lady says with a smile revealing only a few browned teeth amongst her smile. "It may not be a good choice, or a wise one, or one that has a happy outcome. But everyone has a choice."
With an amused look at the deal Danny presents her. "You ask alot, young man. Give me the book, unharmed and uncopied, I promise I will tell all i know of your mother. And to the best of my abilities I will help you find out all you can about her."
"As to the book itself, it is not just a book of contacts it's also a diary, list of jobs, appointments and valuables. For Tybalt was not just a small time informant. But he also was a fence, thief, spy, courier, diplomat - he was a major player in any activity in the north. So many were interested in his demise, especially winter. Any more information about the powers in town; I'm sure we can come to an amicable arrangement." She says with a sly grin, as the barista comes over with a full pot of tea.
4d3-8+3
"Idiot," Duana hisses, hearing Gabriel's words. "What manner of assistance do you believe you will be to me, much less to her if you are unable to discern even basic truths?" Duana inquires.
"Look at me," Duana commands, "now look at that table. You mortal, are that table. She can decorate you with a vase, or a pretty cloth," Duana sneers at Gabriel's costume, "but she will just as soon destroy you as quickly if you outlive your usefulness. Your family means nothing to her until you make them an issue.
"Sooner shout of our love before a mirror," Duana growls, and looks to Gelert. Envy him, Mortal. He has more freedom than either of us.
Gabriel turns around and merely looks at the angry princess.
"If we give up on hope we no longer need to go on living. I for one princess will keep to my mortal beliefs if it does not displease you.""No matter what you think of me or what I we are thrown together by your mother, Our queen, my controller, and tasked with this quest. So m'lady please I do not know what I have done to displease you but would ask how can we move past this obvious argument?" Gabriel says calmly and emphatically meeting her eyes with his own.
"There is no argument, mortal," Duana replies shortly. "All else that need be expressed is that the moment you endanger my life with your sentimentality, I will end yours.
"Assuming, of course, that you do not intend to replace Lloyd Slate's completely."
Duana ceases speaking, and allows her heels to strike the hardwood floor with a click that punctuates her statement, and glides towards the door.
Gabriel nods his head controlling himself and moves to open the door quickly for the princess bowing slightly to her as he awaits.
She seems to hate her mother but acts just like her, huh Hypocrite this will be just lovely.
,... Give me the book, unharmed and uncopied,...
Danny nods as he sips his tea, actually enjoying it. He's certain that he's missing something fairly important here, but he's not quite sure what. He had thought after his last little adventure he was ready for almost anything. But apparently basic politics still managed to elude him.
"Touche'." He smiles. "And very true, thank you. Um,... if I'm understanding you right, Tybalt was a major player, but fairly neutral, and still just a player, right? From what your saying it doesn't sound as if he was a serious threat to many, if any, of the 'big boys'. Am I Right? Red Court, White Court, even Winter,... why would any of them want to see him dead?"
Danny puts down his empty teacup. Then suddenly has to resist the urge to facepalm himself. And it's a close call.
"Of course. He was a minor player. Until he found out something important. Something worth killing him over. He may not even have known what it was or how important it was. And you need the book to figure out that very question."
Danny sighs. "I have got to stop reading those modern Sherlock Holmes books. Or read more of them. How's your mystery section?" He asks the lady with a wry smile.
"Very well my lady. It seems we have a means of helping each other. It would be foolish not to do so." Danny says light-heartedly.
"After all, everyone needs help sometime." He adds with a grin.
"I suppose I'd better head over there straight-away? No time to waste? That sort of thing?"
'I knew it was too easy. Chat with a guy who has information, and then audition for a gig. what could go wrong? Shoulda' known better. Don't know why I brought my guitar. Yes I do. I feel better with it.'
"Um, I suppose you can give me the exact address of the boat?" He asks a little sheepishly.
Gelert looks up at Duana and wags his tail all the while of her talking to Gabriel and he pushes his broad muzzle under her hand for a moment then crosses over to the door the man had just opened and sniffs at him for a moment in a sort of thank you and then looks back over his shoulder at Duana and chuffs once, doggy grin flashing and tail wagging then trots out of the apartment.
Danny
The old woman smiles, what seems to be warmy at your words. "You are quite a perceptive young man; even if you do like to talk too much. Time, well, when you get to my time of life - every second is precious but every year flies by."
She gets out a small note book, yellowed with age and a stub of a pencil. Licking the tip she scrawls hastily down an address, as you look at it you notice the immaculate scripting that surely could not have come from her gnarled fingers.
The canal boat is docked along the river just outside the city centre.
Danny smiles, shrugs his shoulders.
"Yah, well. No argument there. At least my mouth tends to get me OUT of more scrapes than it gets me INto. Usually." He adds wryly as he accepts the paper she offers.
Danny looks at it, figures out where it (probably) refers to, and looks back to the woman.
"Alrighty-then. Thank you. I guess I'll see you soon? OH, and thank you for the tea!" He adds hastily, tucking a scone into his jacket pocket.
Danny gathers up his guitar, slings it over his shoulder with the ease of long practice, and waves to the lady one more time as he heads towards the door. Once outside he takes a deep breath, and nibbles thoughtfully on the scone. He idly wars with himself between the speed of a cab, and his usual thriftiness by either walking or public transportation. He knows it's merely an idle diversion. He really just wants a a moment to think.
'She's polite. And seems honest enough. (Like I'm a great judge of character?) But there is definitely something I'm missing here. I just hope I'm clever enough to figure out what it is before it bites me in the bootie!' He muses as he dusts his fingers off on his jeans, then waves for a taxi.
'She's clever enough to get me to promise not to copy or rip any pages from the journal. But she never said anything about reading it! Which I think would probably be a very good idea.' He thinks with a self-satisfied smirk.
I do NOT want to get involved in some underworld-wannabe's self-made noose. But if Winter's involved, even vaguely, you can bet your arse I'LL be pulled into it somehow anyway. Best if I know about it BEFORE hand. For a change.'
His mind made up, as much as it ever is, Danny Smiles at the cabbie who pulls over to look at him quizzically.
"Hi! The marina? Just past the center of town? I'm late for a party." He explains, holding up his guitar with a grin.
Danny
Danny gets into the grey cab, the Geordie driver looks at him. "I ken ya not from round here man? I'm from Newcastle myself. The docks it is you going on one of them cruises?" he says in a thick accent as the car pulls away. Looking closely at the driver Danny notices nothing out of the ordinary, except he is only wearing a T-shirt in the chilly spring weather.
"It's interesting like around here, man, it's where the rivers meet. You know a crossroads." he says in warm conversational tones as the car passes the entrance to the docks goes on a big loop and enters a car park near where all the barges are moored. After the driver takes his money, more than Danny is used to but less than it could be, he drives off.
A Canal boat is moored nearby. This is the one the old woman described. It's green and red paint seemingly vivid as the low mist rolls off the cold river. A gangplank leads to a small fore deck. Danny carefully crosses the ricketty wooden plank onto the ship. A door in front of him broaches the interior. As Danny reaches carefully towards the door it gives with ease, virtually swinging open at the merest touch. Feeling out for a threshold or other wards Danny finds little and proceeda. Suitably cautious Danny crosses the threshold with a small pop, inside there are a clutter of items. ALthough the place doesn't look disturbed it is difficult to tell amongst all the hoarded junk. As Danny looks for the Diary he hears a thump of something landing on the deck above and the slight swaying of the boat under the impact.
not wanting the Officer to stop; I look at the number quickly....
Aximeus
Jason has a chargined look at your words; "Yeah sorry man. Sorry Officer" he says to the detective. Whose face darkened into a slight scowl at the mention of 'The Order of St. John'.
Jason starts talking slowly and composed. "Thanks Ax, you always know what to say and what's going down. That's why I called you. Here's how it went down. I bought some pot of my dealer mate." Jason says bowing his head avoiding Aximeus' eyes.
"On the way back to my flat, there was this bloody man in an alley. I thought of what you said about helping people and rushed to him. At the other end of the alley a hoodie, or it might have been something weird. He seemed to be covered in darkness, I saw the glint of some chains in his hands. He was fighting with some other man, they had their backs to me. The fight ended abruptly, some glints of flying metal, i was concentrating more on the dying man."
"He cut me with a knife, it's at my flat. He said the name 'Harvey Lane' then died. That's about it i went home, now I am here." Jason concludes.
Officer Ramsbottom, beckon's Aximeus over and outside the room. "So you know of the Order? You're more than you seem. Look, you know us; you should know we are secret order. Over here the regular police don't have groups 'In the know'. It's up to people like me to try and stop things like that."
"Now, I'll give my card. Jason, will be looked after, but normally his defence is quite shakey. If you could...."
<Aximeus' phone starts ringing>
During the cab ride, Danny listens halfheartedly to the cabbie's droning brogue as he watches the streets pass by like a tourist. He blinks at the cabbie's comparison of the rivers to a 'crossroads', then relaxes.
'All of this dealing with fae has got me looking for double meanings in everything. He's just a cabbie. Yea. Just an ordinary cabbie,... wearing a t-shirt when everyone else is wearing coats. Double-darn stoopid-stitious professional liars have got me questioning everything!'
Danny gazes into his depleted wallet wistfully as the cheerfully chatty cabby drives off. It's almost like he knew how much Danny could afford. And still leave enough for a ride back. Almost. Naahhh,... AT least he seemed genuinely pleased with the tip. Always good to have the goodwill of someone who actually knows his way around town.
A Canal boat is moored nearby. This is the one the old woman described. It's green and red paint seemingly vivid as the low mist rolls off the cold river. A gangplank leads to a small fore deck. Danny carefully crosses the ricketty wooden plank onto the ship. A door in front of him broaches the interior. As Danny reaches carefully towards the door it gives with ease, virtually swinging open at the merest touch. Feeling out for a threshold or other wards Danny finds little and proceeda. Suitably cautious Danny crosses the threshold with a small pop, inside there are a clutter of items. ALthough the place doesn't look disturbed it is difficult to tell amongst all the hoarded junk. As Danny looks for the Diary he hears a thump of something landing on the deck above and the slight swaying of the boat under the impact.
'Perfect.' Danny mouths silently. He shakes his head in frustration.
'I am gonna change my name to something safe. Boring. Like James Bond.' He grumbles silently to himself as he takes one last desperate look for where the diary, journal, (Whatever!) Might be hiding,...
Getting a sudden, feeling, Danny makes a grab under a pile of junk, snags what his hand comes in contact with, and steps lightly onto the small bed. Eyes glued to the door, He takes a breath, exhales half of it, like a sharpshooter getting ready to fire, and starts to sing softly,...
"I'm in-vis-i-ble,
In-vis-I-ble, oh-whoah.
And I'm hiding like I've never hid before!"
"I'm in-vis-i-ble, In-vis-i-ble,
Oh-whoah!
And you won't see me when you open up that door!"
Danny continues singing softly, one part of his mind making up lyrics as he goes, the other watching the doorway. He feels the energy settle around him, like being inside a giant, invisible soap bubble. Where before it made him nervous, he has practiced enough recently that it's beginning to feel like an old friend. HE waits until he feels the balance is right, and he thinks that whoever is on the boat is almost to the door, and releases the pent up energy on the end of a measure. He feels a faint 'pop' in his ears, and feels the effect of his veil settle around him. It was a little quick and sloppy. Not his best work. But it should do the trick. And it wasn't so strong that he couldn't see out of it. Handy, since he wants to know who he's hiding from,...
Danny
The barge rocks under the impact, which must be significant for the flat keel to roll so much. Quickly Danny grabs a host of books, notepads and receipts; stuffing them into his pocket. A quickly drawn veil obscures Danny from view, though the edges shimmer like looking through a glass of water. A sour stench pervades the cabin as the small doubles doors are thrust open. Down the couple of steps come two figures, the tatty rags they wear barely covering their rancid flesh.
The taller figure moves slowly around the cabin unused to the gentle roll of the boat. His bald head covered by a few wisps of hair, flesh a pallid grey with heavy bags under his blood-shot eyes. His companion, a shorter stockier man (?) moves with more assurance, but also smells of rotten meat mixed with sweat and stale beer. His nose wrinkles as he sniffs heavily, revealing rotten gums and a handful of teeth in his mouth. ”Here do you smell owt? I could have sworn there’s something.” he rasps.
”Just my new aftershave, ha-ha.” The tall one replies with a wheezing laugh that shakes his rib-cage heavily.
The pair start throwing items around the room, stuffing random items into a rough hemp builders sack. The room is quickly littered with even more items spilling out of cupboards and drawers. Small figurines and glass objects smash on the floor, books are ripped apart and flung across the room.
”It’s not here.” The taller things voice rasps
”Well is it in that box, the Lord wants it.” States the other in reply. Minutes pass as the pair rip apart the room, there are a few tense moments as Danny has to avoid their inadvertant grasps
I look at the phone number on the phone.....and take the card.
Danny watches the new arrivals with distracted interest. His concentration on his Veil occupying the part of his brain that would normally be given to impetuous flight, or panic.
Danny continues to sing softly, the self-made lyrics wavering between inane and hilarious. The magic of the Veil itself preventing the pair from noticing the sounds of Danny singing, as well as the sight of Danny himself. (How does that work? How would he know? It's friggin' magic!)
After a brief moment of panic when it seemed that the first one had noticed Danny, (By SMELL?) Danny settled into his performance mode, where maintaining the music, and the magic, becomes second nature. He watches the pair as they tear through the cabin, and it quickly becomes apparent that they do not have a clue what they are looking for.
'What is this about a box? I thought it was his journal that was supposed to be important?' Danny almost holds his breath out of instinct as the taller,... thing, reaches a cadaverous arm roughly under the edge of the mattress he is standing on. Danny dances to one side, adding an impromptu verse about bedbugs into his Veil. Behind his invisible Veil, he makes gagging motions as the creature stands back up, giving Danny a full, unimpeded whiff of his rotting-smell aftershave.
'What ARE these, things?' Danny wonders.
'And more importantly, how do I get rid of them before they manage to find whatever it is they're looking for? Or me?!'
Aximeus
"As I said the Order is a secret organisation that works to protect the masses. Mostly the Government doesn't believe in these types of supernatural entities. So we are an international organisation that deals with these things." with a hint of sadness touches his eyes. "Or tries to."
The detective gives you a good look at the badge, "You see everyone things we are 'masons' and all the old stories about them. So we act by hiding in plain site. Although I have never met one of the real 'masons'" He says as a shiver goes down his spine.
"Tybalt, was a fence and a thief. We have been trying to nail him for years. Recently he has been working both sides of the local cold war, maybe that's what caught up to him."
"So that's my story what about you?"
"Me; am a soldier; seen a lot of so called spooky stuff; it dont bother me none so they keep sending me in for me. Over the years I have worked for and with many elite units. I am lot older than I look, maybe something supernatural rubbed off on me; not sure. Am between causes at the moment; little down time just reconnecting with the people taking jobs like the one I have down at the pub. Last few places I been as has more than what I would say normal of supernatural stuff; Toronto was positivly awash with it; L.A has something everyday; now Here. Feels like something shifting to me; rules changing or something. I gots some friends, some who do supernatural detective work who sometimes call me; one of em right here on the phone; let me take this; might have more for you to ponder."
"yeah, Jerry; go ahead, I am down at the police station on the outside of the bars; got something to talk to you about; whatchoo need buddy?"
Winter Trio
Walking the short distance from the riverside apartment to where Tybalt's canal boat is moored; you take in the crisp weather. Spring is not quite upon you yet. The mid-morning February light is pale and failing to cut through the high white clouds. The gravel path along side the river is damp with the thawing overnight frost. A woman jogs past with her dog, making sure to keep it out of Gelerts way as it sniffs towards him. She greets you with a how-do, you can almost see her thoughts that you are young couple out with their dog.
Ahead you see the canal boat , the gang plank must have slipped in the water. As you draw level with it; a gangly rotting creature jumps from the boat almost landing on Gelert. His lips draw back revealing a brace of brown rotting teeth in a rictus grotesque grin.
Danny
The tall ghoul looks at the other with a confused look in his eye. "Where is the thing? Should we go and ask Angie @ Evil Eye, she's good at locating things."
With a hiss the stouter, uglier one turns "No, the box cannot be harmed right. We destroy the rest and fish it from the river bed. The flowing waters even get rid of some of it's wards. I is clever, right!
So the tall ghoul reaches into one of the ransacked cupboards and from Danny's position he sees the creature snap the valve of the gas cylinder, whilst the fatty sets fire to a couple of novels. They them slam the door to the barge. The boat wobbles and Danny feels them jump off the barge.
Duana, enraged, launches at the creature and her first instinct is to fling it away from her companion before it can cause harm.
As soon as the foul thing nears him, Gelert gives a loud snarl akin to a lion and bares his fangs at the thing he so clearly knows is evil. With a wild-sounding hunting bellow, he launches himself at the thing, fangs bared and no other thought in his lupine mind than to protect himself and his Mistress.
Fists
The lanky ghoul dances back from Duana's push, straight towards Gelerts snapping teeth.
EDIT: Sorry the dice are going mental on me, trying again.
As the thing lands and snarls at the party Gabriel reaches down drawing his sword from under his cloak. "The Sword of Winter's Breath" rang slightly in the chilly early spring air. It's shiny exterior glows with its own unnatural light as it clears the specialy made scabard. Whirling he swings the sword at the foe stepping infront of the princess as if on marrionette strings.
Weapons
So Duana you succeed in your shove, you can place a maneuver on him like 'Off-Balance'. This will give you (only) a free +2 once; others can tag it costing a fate point for the bonus. Alternatively you could push him 1 Zone, which would be either into the river or onto the boat.
Gelert, you have beaten him by 5 shifts for accuracy & your claws are a Weapon:2. So he has to take 7 shifts of damage, He will take a Moderate Consequence (Hamstrung) to reduce this by 4. Thus he marks off the 3rd box on his physical stress track - [] [] [X] []
Anyone can spend a Fate Point to invoke either environmental, consequence or maneuvers to get an advantage (+2 generally).
Gabriel as you equalled his dodge you hit! So he takes Weapon:2 hit.
Thus his stress track is [] [X] [X] []
Duana's hands flash out as fast as lightning at the putrid man, he moves his body footing slipping on the mud. Of balance from the thrust, Gelert senses his opportunity to attack the thing that so nearly leapt upon him.
The powerful legs of the Hound contract and with a single bound he is past the grotesque. The Hounds jaws rip away the flesh of the ghoul, not just the hamstrings but most of the calf as well. Spitting out the lump of rotten flesh Gelert turns again to face his foe.
The creature nearly collapse to one knee, but then pushes itself upright it's hand gouging a massive grove through the mud and rock underneath. Gabriel thrusts in an attempt to destroy the foe. It's unholy senses see the lunge and it tries to roll with it faster than the eye can see, but to no avail. The Winter Knight's sword draws a thick line of blood across the ghouls chest, and where it has touched it is seared with cold leaving a long black crevasse.
Initiative
Gabriel - 6
Duana - 5
Gelert - 4
Ghouls - 4
Danny - 0
Gabriels Up
Alertness:
"Hello Jerry; you there? Am at the police station; old bulding; not getting good reception, what's up? by the by; I would like you to meet me at <give location of the murderscene> to take a look around; I think it might be something from your side of the fence. Friend of mine is getting the blame for a murder, but I dont think he did it; think something did; looks like a setup; Maybe I should give Danny a call as he is all detective like and he would pick up things I would miss or for big dog Gelert; like to have him sniff around. Here is what I am thinking; some spook hires a local thief/fence to get something then kills him rather than pay for it; my friend sees it and runs to help; then gets away; I gotta name I want to bounce off you; maybe you know it; did you catch all that? What happening for you?"
<am calling Jericho Jerry just so the police dont get to much.>
Gabriel again swings his sword at the foul thing, which moves with almost perfect grace despite the hole ripped in its leg by the lady's huge mutt.
Weapon:
Duana seethes at Gelert's reaction to the bit of flesh he has torn from the creature. She lets her hand down the length of her body, practiced as one who is wholly confident with herself, and pulls her obsidian dagger from its sheath on her thigh. Rushing forward, she sees naught else but the Gelert pup's happily grinning face when he was a much smaller hound of the wyld hunt, looking up at her expectantly. With a wild cry, Duana brings the blade down in the middle of its back, aiming to disable its lower body with the strike.