Celeste casts Cure light wounds On Lucia
On Corlan.
Turning to the new arrival Celeste asks him. "Or Madame Zara D'Amberville if you could be so kind?"
The man looks apologetic. "Sorry about the zombies." he says. "With Stephen being dead and all, I thought it best to use what resources there were, but they keep forgetting their instructions. Still, it turned out better than my last project, which was teaching ravens to fly underwater. What a mess that was. A terrible, soggy-feathered mess."
He sighs. "Zara? Oh she's in the East Wing I imagine. She usually is. Except when she isn't, I suppose, but I don't know when that is. Ought to warn you about the rest of the family though - they're all mad apart from me. Completely bonkers. Got to be expected, of course. I'm sure Stephen will sort it out when he gets back. Say, do any of you play golf? I'm trying to determine the best thing to play golf with. I tried citrus fruit, but that didn't really work. The servants were cleaning tangerines off the ceiling for weeks. What was your other question? Oh yes, Stephen. His laboratory is in the basement, but there's an entrance in the East Wing. In the Blue Room. Or the Green Room. Something like that. I haven't been there for ages, although come to think of it I was there just this morning. Do you think books would work? For golf I mean. There's plenty of those. And dead ravens."
He peers at the group. "Good grief - you're hurt. You should go upstairs and sleep it off. In a bed. I tried to make a bed out of aardvarks once but they wouldn't cooperate. Selfish little things. They couldn't fly underwater either. But they can't fly above water, so one can't expect too much."
"Who are you again?"
Lucia sheathes her sword and offers her hand to the man. "I am Pist," she says through gritted teeth. "I am Shirley Pist."
Not to be totally ill-mannered, she turns and thanks Celeste for the healing spell.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Errrr - we are guests. This is my friend Hugh Glass, pointing a Celeste. I am Cun Irelingus and this is Phil McCrevice, Borden says indicating Corlan.
"I thought you were Sirius Lee Lame?" Celeste asks Cun in some confusion.
"Don't worry Hugh - people can sometimes get confused here. I once thought I was several marquees. Probably because I was too tense."
He pauses. "That's a joke apparently, but I don't get it. Anyway, I'm Augustus, and I must get on. Unless any of you have any ravens? I thought I might just give it one more go."
Corlan is grateful for the additional healing, but, true to his nature, doesn't want to seem too earnest. "Careful laying your hands on me like that," he says to Celeste, wryly. "I'm embarrassed to admit it, but my friends used to tease me about having a thing for elf girls, and I'd rather not get someone like Borden--er, Cun, I mean--started in on that."
Celeste goes cross eyed as she tries to process the most awkward compliment she's ever received "I hadn't even got to the prostate examination yet." She responds.
Mordan asks lesser rejuvinate eidolon on sister
sister will stare at the retreating hoard with a disappointed look on her face.
August looks slightly embarrassed. "Well, it looks like I've intruded on an intimate moment. You lot obviously have one of those modern...group...things..going on. Don't judge myself, of course. Takes all sorts. Not my cup of tea, though. Valerie might be interested... more to her taste I think. She'll be in the garden. Anyway, if you find any ravens...you know...do let me know. I'd better be off to check on the drains....ahem."
He withdraws, closing the doors behind him.
Lets rest up and eat. It's been a busy day. I hope we have rations?
Borden sets the Armour class spindle around his head but offers a loan of the others to anyone interested.
Corlan responds to Celeste with a distracted, "I'm still under 40," turning to see what Borden is doing. Noticing the stone whirling about his head, Corlan says, "Do we need to throw herrings to keep up the performance, or does it just keep doing that all by itself?"
With regards to the loan, he replies, "Thanks, but it might be awkward to try and kiss someone and have a flying stone whack them in the face. I think I'll pass."
On questioning the servants, the group discover that Dinner is still being served in the dining room. Alternatively, sandwiches are available on the terrace or in the garden, or meals can be sent to their rooms. Just pull the bellcord to summon a servant.
Rooms? Oh yes, there are many empty bedrooms on the first floor available to guests. The group are welcome to choose their own... in whatever combination they would like.
Lets grab a spare room and share - too much goofy stuff in this place to risk separating into different rooms.
"So are you hungry, tired?"
"I don't know. I'll have to wait until the Game Master rules on the situation"
"Um,...what?"
"Nevermind. You wouldn't understand. Ask me later."
"..."
Celeste nods, she's ready to get some sleep, though she does ask for food to be brought to the room.
The stairs to the upper level are behind a tapestry leading off the main hallway. The upper floor seems to consist of a single long, narrow hallway with doors leading off on each side. Some are closed with "Do not Disturb" signs on them, others stand slightly ajar.
As the group pass some of these closed doors, they hear:
- A childlike voice singing a nursery rhyme about a bridge somewhere called 'London'.
- Enthusiastic carnal grunting, involving at least three people.
- A whispering voice crooning "Let me out. I have a knife you know. Stabby stabby..."
- What sounds like full opera being perfored, complete with orchestra and chorus.
- A river in torrent.
Suddenly, one of the doors is flung open, and a 'ghost' - actually a figure in a white bedsheet with two eyeholes - runs out, pursued by a tall scruffy man and a large dog. They run into the room opposite and slam the door. Mere moments later, a different door on that side of the corridor opens, and the figures re-emerge, only this time the 'ghost' is chasing the man and the dog. Again the door slams. Then, impossibly, the same figures emerge from a room on the opposite side of the corridor in the original configuration, except this time the man is carry an oversized sandwich. Finally, the two sets of figures emerge from rooms on opposite sides of the corridor, run into each other, fall to the ground, say 'zoinks' and then retreat to their respective rooms, slamming the doors behind them.
This place is a madhouse - let's find an EMPTY room
The group find an empty bedroom. It has a large four-poster bed with chinzy curtains and a canopy, and can easily accommodate four. There are a number of couches and chaises longes around the room, which will do for beds for those who wish to be less intimately acquainted. A roaring fireplace burns against one wall, keeping the place cozy, and a number of cupboards, bookcases and wardrobes round out the furniture.
One large wardrobe is full of heavy coats, and has snowy footprints coming out of it, although there is no sign of who made them.
The bookcases are mostly empty and dusty, although one has a few volumes on it.
A velvet bellpull hangs by the bed for summoning the staff.
In the planar city of Axis stands the Hall of Laws, where the fundamental laws of the multiverse are written on the walls in letters of fire. No-one has ever read all the laws, and philosophers and jurists argue over their exact nature. In a small hallway, little traveled, one line burns bright.
Outsiders breathe, but do not need to eat or sleep (although they can do so if they wish).
Corlan half-points at the rope, "I wonder..." Then he grins sheepishly. "On second thought, never mind. Even if the servants deliver bedmates on demand, I sort of don't think we'd want anything to do with them."
In the planar city of Axis stands the Hall of Laws, where the fundamental laws of the multiverse are written on the walls in letters of fire. No-one has ever read all the laws, and philosophers and jurists argue over their exact nature. In a small hallway, little traveled, one line burns bright.
Outsiders breathe, but do not need to eat or sleep (although they can do so if they wish).
:-)
Mordan pokes experimentally at bed, "Wow, people actually live like this? Pretty nice."
"So whats the verdict?"
"I'm not tired. Or hungry. You sleep, I'll read...if I don't dissapear"
"All right. If you do disappear I hope I can get you back!"
"Me too, but you can't stay awake forever. You get cranky, and stupid...stupider"
"Thanks."
Celeste, after eating something light then bathes herself and goes to bed. "Who has first watch?" She asks casually.
"I'll stay up and keep watch. Unless I dissapear or course." sister volunteers.
The fire burns merrily in the grate, but the lighting in the room (the source of which is not entirely obvious) seems to respond to the mood of the group, dimming imperceptibly until it is dim enough not to inhibit sleep.
Sister picks up one of the books from the bookshelf and sits with her back to the fire, perusing it. "Who's Nyarlathotep?" she asks after a while?
At almost the same moment, the sound of someone trying to suppress a sneeze comes from one of the large wardrobes.
Who's in the closet?
Borden stops for a moment realising what he just asked then shrugs and asks again Who's in the closet?, come on out of the closet.
The closet door opens and a tall, dark-skinned woman with almond shaped eyes steps out. She wears chain armour, a scimitar on her hip, and a tall pointed helm. These are covered in loose, desert-style silken robes. She wears a winged figurine, which Borden and Celeste will recognize as a symbol of Sarenrae, on a cord around her neck.
"Did you get lost?" Celeste asks the new arrival curiously.
"Sorry, I was just more comfortable in there." says the woman. "I shall leave."
Noticing Celeste's bathing, Corlan says, "I'd be careful getting into bathtubs in this place," he cautions. "You're liable to find yourself sailing down the corridor."
Ignoring the bed, he stretches out on the floor with his hands folded on his stomach and his hat brim pulled down over his eyes.
When the crazy Arabian lady emerges from the wardrobe, he doesn't even look up.
Sister examines the closet dweller with curiosity. "Congradulation on coming out of the closet. I like your armor." Turning to Mordan she demands, "Why can't I have armor like that?"
"Well, for one thing you don't know how to wear it, for another every time you go away you leave it in a puddle of chain mail on the floor."
Celeste yawns and stays on the bed, but does crack an eye open to ask. "So what's a Priestess of Sarenrae doing hiding in a closet anyway? If it had been a wardrobe we could have made jokes about Witches and lions."
The almond-eyed cleric mumbles her apologies, casts an eye over the recumbant form of Lucia, and shuffles out of the room.
Silence returns, and with it, eventually, sleep.
It is difficult to describe what eventually arrives as a dawn, as a look out of the window shows the same, slightly pearlescent swirling grey mist as the previous day - or was it the day before? It seems somewhat hazy when you try to remember - but the light in the room has brightened, and you wake one by one, except Borden, whose body has learned that the best way of avoiding a hangover is to stay asleep.
Downstairs, on your way to the Drawing Room for breakfast, you notice that the hallway has been cleaned of all signs of the acivities of the previous day...last week...whenever. The scorch marks from the fireworks are gone, the zombie ichor stains have disappeared, and the vases previously smashed by Isabella are now whole and unharmed. It is as though the events of the previous day...five minutes ago...last month... had never happened.
There are several guests enjoying the breakfast buffet in the Drawing Room - Biffy is there, as is the almond-eyed woman (who introduces herself as 'Kyra') and well as 'The Colonel' - a white haired older man with a neat beard who appears to be breakfasting on fried chicken, and a pair of humanoids who are wreathed in shifting, waving white silks, which constantly move around the environment near them like feelers, and entwine and interact whenever they are close to each other.
Corlan gratefully serves himself a cup of coffee, giving a genial nod to Biffy as he passes by. He carefully avoids the adherers or whatever they are.
Celeste nods to everyone politely and settles down for a hearty breakfast, bacon, eggs and fried mushroom if possible. Along with a large mug of coffee.
Celest's clone drinks tea:-)
The coffee is excellent - rich, dark and with a hint of something Celeste can't quite place.
"I am glad Madam is enjoying the coffee," comments the waiter, "the kitchen has its own civet cat."
"I am glad Madam is enjoying the coffee," comments the waiter, "the kitchen has its own civet cat."
A late arrival enters the room, a young blonde man with aquiline features and dressed in velvet robes. He flaps his arms wildly, emulating a bird, circles the breakfast buffet table a couple of times, and then perches on a chair, his head jerking inquisitively as he examines everyone else's breakfast.
Borden wakes with a groan... takes a belt of his whisky as hair of the dog and ambles on down to breakfast.
He sticks to bread and anything greasy, the greasier the better to hold down the acidic bile like feeling in his gullet and settle his stomach... which is odd, because he didn't drink that much from his new bottle of whisky the night before... was it night? He can't tell.
Whats with the bird act?
"Anywhere else that would seem weird."
"I'm waiting to see him lay an egg."
The man stares at Borden and the others as theu discuss him. "You can see me?" he asks "You can actually see me? Then perhaps my long curse is finally coming to an end."
He 'flaps' over to the group and perches on a chair next to them. "Pity me, for I was once Lionel D'Ambreville, a man like you. Then I fell foul of the wrath of my pet hamster Eustace, whom I denied a piece of lettuce. With a twitch of his nose he transformed my arms into these hideous mockeries of wings," - he holds up his perfectly normal looking arms - "and cursed my feet that they might never touch solid ground again. I begged him for mercy, and he cast a pall of invisibility over me, so that I might soar the halls unmolested, and not suffer the looks of my family when they saw my twisted, beaked visage. I could not seek their help as they had all gone mad, awaiting Stephan's return. But now you have seen through the rodeny's curse, and my salvation may be at hand!"
Lucia seems rather pissy at breakfast: Perhaps she was expecting all the madness to have just been a bad dream but now realizes it wasn't and that more such hijinks are likely on the menu.
Speaking of the menu....
As she passes the Colonel fellow she gets a whiff of the chicken he's eating. "Wow--that actually smells fabulous! Mind if I try a piece?" Deciding that she could easily cut down the elderly chap if he were to dare say "No," Lucia helps herself to a thigh. Moments later, after biting into the food, she's wincing and rubbing her fingers together, saying,"Yuck--so greasy!" A couple minutes later, though, she's heading back to the bucket for a breast. "By the gods, people--you should really try this chicken!"
It does seem to be finger lickin' good, says Borden snatching a piece for himself, irrespective of consent from the white suited man with the black bow tie.
"Well, ah'm mighty proud y'all like it." drawls the Colonel, nodding to Borden and Lucia. "Mighty proud. It's the secret blend o' eleven herbs, spices, minerals, crushed insects, cleaning products and high-grade narcotics that gives it its unique flavour. Can ah interest y'all in some of mah chicken gravy, which y'all instinctively will know to be made o' stuff y'all don't want tah know about, but will be unable to resist?"