Aaron does not have a copy of that book just hanging around his shop, but he does put out some feelers among his contacts to see if any of them have one.
In particular he leaves Frank a message, telling him he owes him for the dockyard being a bust.
Kishan checks in with her Warden supervisors, explaining her absence and updating them on the Fomor situation. They haven't seen any unusual activity from the Fomor. They do ask Kishan about the possible werewolf attack earlier in the week in Boston, but Kishan doesn't know anything about that.
Father Jim: "The boy left the Sanctuary two nights ago and disappeared. I found him in the Abbey room at the McKim building at the central library. He was ranting about the golden tree and something about dragons. He is back here now, and safe and sound."
It would seem that the Fomor are gathering resources for some sort of attack. Gram, the Fallen, Julian. Remember that when the doctors were looking at Julian they said something about him being the last one. In the warehouse where you found Julian, there were also some military grade weapons and a helicopter.
Also, it would seem that the human identity of the Fomor that you killed, whose penthouse you broke into, is not actually dead, but is in fact hosting a fundraiser at the Central Library in a couple of days.
Bayless Holdings Inc. owns Bayless International Inc. as well as several luxury apartment buildings and a mental health group called Ninurta that runs several residential mental health facilities under the banner Ninerta Mental Health.
Bayless International Inc. is a wholly owned subsidiary of Bayless Holdings Inc. and has shipping and import facilities in Boston, Baltimore, Detroit, and Toronto, as well as international facilities in Venice, Istanbul, Durban, and Tianjin.
Kishan notices that the rooftop seems almost to hum with the magical energies of the ley line, but any spells worked here recently have been washed away by sunrise or are overshadowed by the background noise. There don't seem to be any standing wards, and the building is too new to have much of a threshold.
Aaron doesn't see anyone inside the building.
As you head down the stairs, you immediately notice that the rooms are cool and humid. You descend a set of modern stairs into a large modern open concept living/dining/kitchen area. You hear a click and a fire grows in the fireplace and the lights come on and the vertical blinds rotate to block the windows.
Above the fireplace is this artwork. On the table are a map of Boston and several photographs of a teenage boy. Coming out of school, in the neighborhood with friends, newspaper articles featuring his accomplishments.
On the kitchen island is a coffee table book called Mythic Serpents of the World.
The boy's name is Julian Avivi. He is an attractive high school student and star athlete in track and, in this season, football. There are articles related to his record setting track and field performances, as well as his dynamic and dominating play on the football field. He attends St. Michael Academy, a private school in the suburbs.
Buried in the pile is a photo of the boy holding a trophy, carried by his team mates. His head and face are circled in red sharpie and on top of the article are written the words, "The boy would be a useful weapon in our quest. Acquire him." The article is from October 9. It is currently October 14.
The book is the sort of book that collects a lot of art without much written content. The sort of thing you would find in the bargain books at a big retail book store. As you flip through, you see post its on several pages where dragons are pictured with damsels and/or trees.
http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/Herakles/Hpix/1990.14.0209.jpeg
http://ids.lib.harvard.edu/ids/view/20460191?width=560&height=560
https://maitaly.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/forbidden_fruit.jpg
"Was he able to depart that easily, or was this despite precautions taken? When you say he was ranting, was he able to speak rationally, or has he been more disorganized and confused?"
It occurs to me that if his power is inborn, and not a thing learned through study, I might be able to cede jurisdiction in the matter of his friend's death, as he could be considered more akin to a Changeling than a mortal Sorcerer.
"This sounds like something we need to look into anyway. Remember that book in the Bayless building? This fits the pattern."
"Was he able to depart that easily, or was this despite precautions taken? When you say he was ranting, was he able to speak rationally, or has he been more disorganized and confused?"
It occurs to me that if his power is inborn, and not a thing learned through study, I might be able to cede jurisdiction in the matter of his friend's death, as he could be considered more akin to a Changeling than a mortal Sorcerer.
"Our Sanctuary is safe and heavily fortified, but it is not a prison. The boy was in a locked room that remained locked even after he departed. When we first found him, he was babbling and incoherent. Right now he is eating some chicken soup, and appears to have no memory of his little escapade."
It is currently Tuesday, October 20. The Gala is set for Wednesday October 21 at the Central Library. You can acquire tickets through the Friends of the Library for $1000 per couple. Of course, there are lots of other ways that you could get in.
This is a swanky event. Chamber music, live auction, waiters walking around with little trays.
If you wanted to check things out beforehand, that would also be possible.
"So. Does anyone have the resources to get an invite to this thing? We could pool money to buy tickets, but I'm not exactly flush with cash. We should take a look at their security set up, and find out if it will be primarily mundane, supernatural, or if they'll cover the bases with both kinds of security. I'm guessing there will be a lot of those human-ish servitor creatures... they are really creepy. Perhaps with some calls, we can find out if a known security firm has been contracted to monitor the event."
Security for the event is being provided by a Private Military Contractor called Vesuvian. Vesuvian provides security for corporate events and for certain executives who are clued in. They would be considered a strong rival to Monoc Securities. They have been very involved in the recent shuffle of power in South America, but have a relatively small footprint in the Northern Hemisphere.
A few calls and some promised favors and Jarrod can get his hands on a guest list, though he has to borrow Aaron's computer and ask Kishan to step out of the room to get it printed out.
The Library is in an old building attached to another old building. It has a substantial underground support area of utilities, steam pipes, whatever tropes you would expect. The party will be in the central reading room, Bates Hall. Adjacent to the Abbey Room Paintings.
Jarrod pulls some strings and gets you into the party. To keep up appearances, he arranges for a car and driver. He asks the car company for something old (and therefore somewhat wizard proof). Maybe he doesn't communicate exactly what is wanted, but maybe he does. In any case, what shows up is a beautiful and classic 1935 Duesenberg Phaeton. Not subtle, but what a ride.
Preparations made, your driver pulls up to the red carpet and the door is opened. You roll out in as much style as you can muster, and make your way through the doors into the beautiful hall. The massive wood tables have been moved from the center of the room, leaving a space for mingling, dancing, sipping drinks, scarfing hors devours, or whatever mood strikes. A string quartet plays Mozart on a small stage.
After a few drinks and a few rounds of hors devours, a chimelike voice rings across the room,"Mr. Drachman, how wonderful to run into your here."
Turning, you see a woman crossing the room. She is tall and strangely familiar. Then it clicks. Evelyn, the woman who was snooping around the shop talking about Weylund and his works. She looks stunning in a black strapless dress that sparkles like the night sky. Her hand is through the wiry arm of an older man, perhaps 70, who wears glasses that look like real tortoise shell with dark lenses.
"Mr. Drachman, this is my employer, Dr. Sithskegger. He too, is happy to meet you. And your friends, of course." Her eyes take in the group.
Sithskegger offers his hand to you, "Mr. Drachman, I understand we share an interest in the works of Weylund Smith."
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Dressed in the only suit he owned, a slightly out-dated affair he first got for his wedding, Jarrod spent the first few minutes after arriving in a very beautiful car scoping out the scene.
Reasonably sure of his instincts, and knowing that Kishan had his shotgun squirreled away in a bag, he let himself relax a bit, trying to put on an air of polite disinterest to anybidy watching. Availing himself of the free champagne and food, he watched with a careful eye as a beautiful woman on the arm of a much older gentleman approached Aaron. Of course, he had to cough a bit to cover his snort at the man's last name. 'That's what Vader needed to boost morale and win, a Sith's kegger,' he thought to himself.
Jarrod can easily pick out about 20 black clad security guards stationed around the room. That's a pretty heavy number for such an event, but there is a lot of jewelry on display, as well as a fair amount of art and rare books on display. No single piece worth more than a few hundred thousand, but all told it adds up to a pretty penny. Jarrod can also pick out a man in an expensive dark blue suit who is probably an insurance detective or investigator. He isn't anyone Jarrod recognizes by face or name, but it might be worth slipping him a card. His suit is certainly nicer than Jarrod's.
'That's what Vader needed to boost morale and win, a Sith's kegger,' he thought to himself.
"True. They've probably all rusted away long since."
"Still, as you said, it pays the bills. I'm sure Dr. Sithskegger would be happy if he got the bankroll that came with having your research turned into a History special."
Aaron shakes Dr. Sithskegger's hand and gives both him and Evelyn a big smile, though the one at Evelyn slips a bit as he remembers the odd feeling he got from her last time.
"You could say that, yeah. Probably not as much as you...you study comparative mythology, if I remember right?"
As I always do.
"Was the book helpful?"
He chuckles warmly, "Yes, Mr. Drachman. Truly enlightening. Many wonderful observations there. Of course, much of it is rather dry and academic. I do prefer the meatier, or perhaps we should say bloodier stories. I wonder, Mr. Drachman, and friends of course, if you would take a walk with me to the Abbey room. I believe there is a display there that you will find quite interesting..."
Evelyn tenses for just a moment before plastering a smile on her face.
Meeting these two, Kishan has what can only be described as a sense of queerness. They don't radiate any magic, but they definitely set off her spider sense.
Aaron is slightly uncomfortable, but curious.
"Sure. Anybody else interested?"
Kishan hears about Jarrod's ability to get the group into the party, and nods in agreement. The night of the party, she gets herself out one of her nicer dressed, as well as a pair of classier, but relatively -low heeled shoes. Pushing a bit of her will into her coat, she reaches out into the glamour she wove into the cloth, and empowers it, forcing the coat to change shape and causing it to take on the shape of a fancy decorative shawl. The shawl matches the dress, and will be something she can retain even during a fancy dress party, where her coat would likely attract notice if she failed to check it.
Given the likely presence of security, she stows any of the gear that might set off a metal detector within the coat's mystic pocket; which is basically a tiny bubble of the NeverNever, folded out into an isolated pocket that can be accessed only from the coat, or by someone knowing its precise location, like herself. In addition to her sword and sidearm, she places some special steel jacketed ammo (should the Fomor cause problems), as well as Gram, Jarrod's shotgun, and his belt of various shells. Last, she throws in a pair of yoga pants and some practical slip-on shoes, should she need a quick alternative to the dress shoes she wears in the limo.
At the party, when she meets the odd pair, she extends her senses gently, looking to see if she can figure out what tickled her senses when it came to the two.
"I'd be honoured, Mr. Drachman. Are these the two you mentioned to me? The fellow historians?"
"That they are. They were, or are still?, doing some research on Wayland Smith."
Sithskegger strides by, Evelyn in tow.
"The very thing. Wayland Smith. In particular, I am a historian and a classicist. My current research focuses on the facts to be found in myths and legends. And that is the very thing that brings me here tonight. Now, as I was saying, into the Abbey Room. Which is ironically named, is it not? Of particular interest to you would be this one. The City of Saras.
He sweeps around the room, leading you to one of the canvases. There, in all its Crusader glory, is Gram.
Map of the Library. Bates Hall and the Abbey Room are on the second floor.
"It's a beautiful painting, no doubt. I think I recognize the sword from the book. One of Wayland's creations?"
For a moment, you are so focused on the strange pair that you don't notice. But it slowly dawns on you that Daniel Thiel, author of the feast and secret Fomor, is also in the room. There are security guards at each door except the one that leads to the restrooms.
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As Jarrod followed the others into the sode room, he looked around that the artwork on mild curiosity. While never one for the creqtion of artworks, indeed he was one of the few people he'd ever heard of that actually failed art class in high school, that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the work of others. While listening in on the conversation with half an ear, Jarrod slowly picked up on the fact that their group wasn't the only ones there. Walking up to Kishan and acting as though he was pointing out something on a nearby painting, he whispered, "We got fomor and enforcers surrounding us. Got any ideas on us leaving here alive and uncaptured? Probably shouldn't have to mention it but I'm not so good at smoozing with politicians, and even less with frog men in disguise."
On seeing Thiel, Aaron focuses a little more on the guards.
These guys all appear to be normal humans. Even Thiel reads as normal. He doesn't have any visible weapons, or anything hidden that you can see. There don't seem to be any weird sounds. In fact, there are infrared motion detectors in the corners of the room that aren't emitting anything. Maybe that is normal, though.
Thiel turns from the canvas he is contemplating, his gaze sweeping across you, but he shows no sign of recognition. He turns to the nearest guard and says, "Ok, let's get this show started..."
Thiel sweeps out fo the Abbey Room and into Bates Hall. He steps onto a small platform and a woman in a white dress hands him a wireless handheld microphone. "Welcome, everyone. Thank you for your generous support... "you hear a loud banging from the hall to the south, where the stairs come up from below. Looking down the Chavannes Gallery, you see a squad of heavily armed men and women pouring from the stairs, firing automatic weapons in short bursts into the ceiling. Most of them flow into Bates Hall, with four of them breaking off and heading toward you in the Abbey Room. Two of them carry shotguns, while two carry assault rifles clearly modified for automatic fire.
"Everyone on the floor, hands away from your pockets." command several of them at once.
Lakshmi Kishan, for once rather happy she stood barely north of five feet tall, took a very subtle step to the side, disappearing from the newcomers' line of sight behind the much larger shoulders of her companions. Once there, she summoned her will and focusing brought up a subtle veil, using only a trickle of power to cover her slight frame. Reaching into the infinite pocket of her coat/shawl, she gripped her fingers around the hilt of her sword; her focus for creating protective shields.
She whispered in a barely audible voice, so quiet a normal human ear would never pick it up, but standing right between the shoulder blades of her dragon blooded companion, she was pretty sure his senses would pick it up.
"Drachman; I've veiled myself behind you. I'm ready with a defensive magic shield if they attack you. I think we should let this play out and see what happens."
Aaron does not respond to Kishan's request, but reluctantly agrees. He puts his hands up and stands loose.
The invaders look something like this, though not as uniform. The one in the lead wears a multifaceted eyepiece, so we will call him bug eyes. He steps into the room while the other three cover him from behind. He sizes up Drachman and raises his shotgun, swinging the butt of the gun at Drachman's head. "I said 'Down' tough guy, kiss the floor."
The attack connects.
Round 2
Aaron drops.
"Ooooh. Ow. That hurt." he tries to sound convincing.
The lead figure gestures at Jarrod with the gun. "You need a taste of this, hero, or you gonna get down on the floor like a good boy?
You hear similar exchanges from the larger Hall. Women screaming, men getting hit in the head or stomach. One man wretches after a particularly strong blow. The smell of half digested shrimp cocktail and fear fills the rooms.
The security guys decide that this is more than they are being paid for and hit the ground. One of them decides to be a hero and puts his hand in his pocket. One of the men with an assault rifle jogs over to him and stomps on his hand, rips the phone out and crushes it under his boot, picking up a glass of champagne and pouring it over the remains of the phone.
It occurs to you that Sithskegger and Evelyn are no longer in the room.
After the initial excitement settles down, a man steps onto the stage in the Hall and picks up a wireless handheld microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for inconveniencing you this evening. It's nothing personal, at least not for most of you. It just so happens that Mr. Thiel is here tonight, and we need to be where Mr. Thiel is. As long as everyone stays calm, there is no need for most of you to get hurt. But step out of line, and we will make an example of you. For now, be quiet, stay on the floor. Your servers for the evening will be collecting your cell phones, though you should understand that they are already being jammed, and that the internet and phone lines to the building have been disabled."