Armand Rodolphe Fouchault's page

After signing in, Armand follows the others down into the bowels of the morgue.
"It's almost like descending into a crypt this place," he thinks to himself as they reach the door.a

"So, who's going where again?"
With a small bow towards Vivienne Armand continues: "I'd be most delighted to escort Mylady to the morgue... ahem, well, not delighted because it's the morgue... erm, I... so who was going where again?"
A blush comes to the cheeks of the older man.

"Ahh, my apologies! I'm Armand Rodolphe Fouchault, humble servant of Ezra, from the village of Chalabre Noire on the southern border."

The behaviour of the chef and the words of the marshal ring too close for comfort and Armand's palms turn sweaty. "No, this is what I came here for, for the love of my dear Marie I have to seek the answers!"
"Pardon my interruption, but even if the Professor is hesitant in taking on this assignment, I would like to volunteer my services in any way the law sees fit."

Spot (1d20+2=12)

Armand stands quietly in the background. The morning has definitely taken a turn he didn't count on.

Armand is more than willing to exit slowly and without any furor. As he exits the door he looks up at the mounted figure.
"We have a seriously wounded man in there, I suggest he receives immediate medical attention."

As Nathaniel and Grim move in to lift the unconscious chef Armand steps aside.
"Careful now, he's quite hurt."

Armand is more interested in the chef, who now seems to have been freed from whatever power had taken over his mind (sudden images of his wife Marie flailing her arms and pounding the wall for no apparent reason flashes through his mind).
Is the chef conscious or?

Seeing two of the professor's companions suddenly drop to the floor Armand turns to the lady behind him.
"Mademoiselle, I think it's best you leave at once, this is no place for a lady!"
Giving her a gentle push towards the door Armand quickly crosses the floor to the discarded body of the Witchbrand and kneels down. Sensing a weak pulse, Armand reaches into his shirt and pulls out his holy symbol while saying a short prayer. Immediately the gash across the Witchbrand's chest closes and is replaced by a layer of pinkish new skin.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8+2=6

Seeing the madman enter the restaurant, Armand quickly jumps to his feet and steps protectively in front of Vivienne while drawing his sword.

Ready an action to attack the butcher in case he comes this way

"Ahh, Professor, I finally get a chance to shake your hand."
"I was getting a bit worried that I would miss the opportunity to see you in person while I'm here, but it seems my stubbornness to stick around bore fruit."
Taking the offered seat, Armand turns to the enthralling woman seated across from him.
"No, no mademoiselle, I don't think we've met before... erm, the professor must be mistaken."

"The 'professor' is right over there", Witch says pointing to Naight.

"Ahh, I see. Hopefully he's not in any kind of trouble," Armand says indicating the gendarme.

"Monsieurs... erm, Mademoiselle," the last word seems slightly nervous as it leaves the mouth of the newcomer, yet he bows slightly to each and every one of you.
"Yes, I'm here to see the Professor... I gather that he's not here right now, is that correct?"

Marie?!?
No, it couldn't be... yet it seemed just like his Marie 30 years ago, the same tilt to the head, the way she tucked her hair behind one ear, the smile, the laughter... even the eyes and nose seemed exactly like hers.
Stunned by this shocking vision Armand didn't hear the waiter's repeated questions at first. Slowly the sounds of the outside world started to seep through the sound of his blood pounding in his ears.
"... a table? Monsieur? Hello?"
Armand turned slightly to the inquiring waiter and looked bewildered at him.
"Yes? Oh, a table... I, erm, I'm here to see Professor Naight, if you know of him?"
"Professor Naight? Why yes, of course, he has already gathered a few other people at his table, this way please."
Armand slowly followed the waiter, but couldn't take his eyes off Marie... no, the woman who looked just like her. Yet as they slowly wound their way through the tables and other guests he realized that they were headed straight towards the table with the woman!

I assume the woman is Vivienne, ne pas?

"My the 'professor' seems popular today. For the life of me, I cannot deduce why. Please join the queue he has established at his table in the restaurant across the way," sniffs Darby.

Armand looks a bit perplexed at the derogatory remarks, then half-turns toward the restaurant.

"I see, at least he has returned. I thank you my good man, I shall go there at once."
With a small bow toward the manservant, Armand threads his way through the crowd and enters the restaurant. Hat in hand he tries to scan the place to see if he can spot a larger crowd that might indicate the presence of the professor.
It doesn't take long, however, before a waiter approaches with an inquiring mine on his face.

Arriving at Professor Naight's front door, after a brisk walk through the already thickening crowd of the city, Armand dusts off his jacket with his tricorne before running a hand through his thinning hair. Certain that his appearance is up to par he loudly raps on the door with his knuckles, ignoring the strange metal apparatus apparently designed for just such a thing.
"If my own hand was good enough back home, it's good enough here," he quietly thinks to himself.
It doesn't take long before noise is heard behind the door, but the man who opens it is still not the professor.

Downing the last goats milk Armand leans back in his chair and stretches his weary body.
With the hubub subsided outside it's time to get on with the day's duties. After scaling the squeaky stairs to his room he pours some more water into the cracked washbasin and finishes off his morning washing ritual, shaves and then sits down on the bed for a moment of quiet contemplation.
Feeling better after a moment in prayer to Ezra Armand dons the rest of his clothes and heads out the door to once again pay a visit to the professor's house.

Haven't cast any spells, so the ones memorized stay the same. They're listed under Spells on my character sheet

For Armand** spoiler omitted **

"No worries lass, I heard the ruckus earlier and I intend to be no part of it. Thank you for the warning, though, Ezra bless you my dear."

Just as the party is about to leave for the restaurant, Darby pops his head out and says "Off again so soon, Master Dayenn? It would be a shame if you were to miss the clients who visited yesterday and said they would return today -- a lovely young lady with rather dangerous eyes and an extremely well-spoken dwarf."

DWARF?!? I may be short and stout, but I'm no DWARF! Why that insolent manservant, I'll... @#&$!

"Bacon and eggs sound just fine. And some bread and butter too, if you please. Do you have any fresh milk mayhaps?"
With the small fire in the fireplace and the rising sun it quickly becomes more comfortable in the common room. It doesn't take long for the serving woman to return either and Armand speaks a soft prayer over the food before breaking bread.
"I truly hope the professor is back, otherwise I'll have to try the university again to see if some of his lesser known colleagues are able to help me"

With the law finally taking care of the brawl, Armand turned his attention to the smell of bacon and the sound of his grumbling stomach. Even the nights haunting memory could not drown out that sound and feeling. Putting on his boots and his woolen vest over his shirt, just to stave off any remnants of the nights chill in the common room, he slowly went down the creaky stairs. Smiling curtly behind his moustache to a serving woman he selected a table close to one of the fireplaces and sat down.
"Breakfast first, then off to the professors house again," he thought to himself as another serving woman approached.

I don't think we ever found out what time of year it is.

Despite the urge to rush down and try to break up the fight, to protect all of Ezra's children, Armand also immediately realizes that a scuffle with drunken sailors would only end bad for his own skin. With a heavy sigh he instead stands up and walks over to the washbasin and pours some water into it. Rubbing a wet cloth across his face to clear the last cobwebs of the disturbing night he looks into the cracked mirror above the washstand. Bloodshot and haunted eyes stare back at him and with another heavy sigh he walks to the door and opens it slightly, trying to get a whiff of breakfast cooking in the kitchen.

Standing across from the still dark 2nd story windows of the house, Armand watched the bustle of the city grow thinner as evening put its murky grip on the street. The address had been right, but the lovely woman who had answered the door had informed him that Monseiur Naight had been gone since early morning.
Was it foolish of him to have come?
No, this was something he had to explore. Through their brief letter correspondance it had seemed clear that M. Naight did indeed seem to know something of the inner workings of the mind, so the people who had referred to him seemed to be upright.
But how much did he know and would it help in the quest to find the demons who had possessed his dear Marie?
He had said that he wanted to try some... hypnosis techniques on Armand to find out more about what had happened, but he failed to see how that would help Marie. But anything was worth a shot now.
The fog from the harbour had started seeping through the streets and a slight damp chill seemed to permeate the air. Drawing his cloak closer around him and pulling his tricorne further down, Armand put the rest of the meat pie he had bought from the street vendor in his mouth and decided to try again tomorrow.