Finding that the stranger seems to focus his interest elsewhere, Henry decides to look for another way to know the place and its people in his seek for a potential plan or allies.
He enters the hotel, decided to go straight to the receptionist and ask for any job that could give him an excuse to be around, when he recognises Harris among other people in the hall. A tremendous effort is needed to not just jump on Harris and bite his neck, and the soothing words from Mikinak are just an inch of being ignored. Finally, though, he recovers, and goes to the desk.
On his way to the receptionist's desk, Henry fakes being stumbled by the gentlemen and tries to sneak in a minor spell Detect Magic on the group. Once face to face with the man in charge of the reception, he goes "Excuse me, sir, but I'm new in town. I be looking for anything I can do for you in exchange of a few cash. I'm strong and tough, and can carry anything around for you if you please, or can do any other task. Try me for free for a few days, and you'll see yourself." Meanwhile, though, he has an ear and an eye set on the conversation between Harris and the other strangers.
The lean blonde, frock-coated gentleman who, by both his mien and slightly-forbidding demeanor, evidently has charge of the reception desk regards Bringer-of-Hope with a intentional expression, equal parts curiosity and suspicion,
"Well, stranger, you're in luck. I'm currently a bit short staffed. One of the bellhops named Miles disappeared the other day, and a couple of the others evidently got spooked as a result, and have yet to return to work. If you ask me, young Miles just skipped town and graciously decided not to inform me of that fact -- an odd one that. In any event, we have an important share-holders meeting coming up, and I'm sure my remaining waitstaff could use an extra pair of hands getting our guests' luggage to their rooms. Go check in with the valet station at the front of the lobby and find Charles. He'll get you set up."
The gentleman replies in a friendly manner, once again unveiling his undeniably handsome smile,
"Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you had -- my surname is the result of an auspicious marital union with the Cameron family, the venerable clan of Stagville Plantation in Durham, North Carolina."
After a healthy breath, Harris continues, announcing proudly,
"There's no doubt that my marriage to the lovely Elisa-Mae Cameron has brought me into the orbit of her estimable father, Mr. Bennehan Cameron's extensive business interests throughout the region."
His elegant drawl now assumes a more conspiratorial tenor,
"You being a native of the hoary Commonwealth of Old Virginia, will appreciate, inferior of the Mason-Dixon, will appreciate the vital role that my home, the port of Wilmington, as well as my in-laws, play in our peculiar Southern institution. The alliance was a natural one, which I can only imagine will prosper us both, bye the bye."
'This guy really likes to hear himself speak...' Taylor couldn't help but think to herself. She nods along to the man as he explains his pedigree and the various business connections he has back east. She only pauses momentarily when he brings up a 'particular Southern institution'. It doesn't take a genius to understand that he means slavery. It certainly cements her distaste for the man. Nevertheless she doesn't break face, not if she can find out more about his operations in the area.
"I must say you sound quite well off, Sir. I can certainly see why you'd pick a place as high-class as the Knutsford Hotel. Can't think of anyplace in the city more posh than here." Taylor says in flattery. "Though what brings a man of your stature all the way out West into, well... the sticks?"
Harris snickers slightly, exposing a threatening rictus grin at the Taylor's casual, even dismissive reference to 'the sticks',
"Well, Madame, I'd opine that particular characterization of our present environs is entirely a matter of perspective -- indeed, the Latter-day Saints view themselves as a 'peculiar people' whose recent emigration to these climes reflects the main providential strategy of the Divinity in these present times. No doubt, they view this territory as the center plot of the Holy Land."
"In any event, I have come to conduct a transaction with Joseph Walker, formerly Chief Walkara, a potentate among the group of Shoshone Indians known as the Timpanogo and Sanpete Band."
The gray-clad strange cracks a undeniably handsome smile as he replies in a genteel Carolina drawl,
"Oh, no need to apologize, madam, my name is Harris, James Cameron-Harris, chiefly of Wilmington in the fair state of North Carolina. And where, if I might be so bold as to inquire, might you be from?"
This 'James' places an especial emphasis upon his utterance of the doubled surname 'Cameron-Harris', particularly the first part, as if it might be a recognizable designation.
Although the name sounds vaguely familiar, Taylor cannot recall exactly where she's heard the name before. Perhaps she should ask the man?
"Name's Taylor MacConnel, Sir. I'm from Virginia, around the Richmond area. It's a pleasure to meet you," she replied with a short bow of her head. "I think I might have heard your name in passing during my rounds through the city, but I'm still fairly new around here," she continues, hoping to gain some info on why he sounds familiar.
The gentleman replies in a friendly manner, once again unveiling his undeniably handsome smile,
"Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you had -- my surname is the result of an auspicious marital union with the Cameron family, the venerable clan of Stagville Plantation in Durham, North Carolina."
After a healthy breath, Harris continues, announcing proudly,
"There's no doubt that my marriage to the lovely Elisa-Mae Cameron has brought me into the orbit of her estimable father, Mr. Bennehan Cameron's extensive business interests throughout the region."
His elegant drawl now assumes a more conspiratorial tenor,
"You being a native of the hoary Commonwealth of Old Virginia, will appreciate, inferior of the Mason-Dixon, will appreciate the vital role that my home, the port of Wilmington, as well as my in-laws, play in our peculiar Southern institution. The alliance was a natural one, which I can only imagine will prosper us both, bye the bye."
The new entree grunts in a more than slightly feral manner as Taylor collides with his speedy movement into the grand lobby of the hotel. In the course of his arrested passage, the warmth of the powerful exhalation from his nostrils forcibly disturbing the slight, pale hairs of Taylor's cheeks. For whatever reason, brings to her mind the unwelcome and troublesome image of a predator sniffing the chill air of a dense, unlit underbrush at night, its powerful, guttering nostrils eagerly seeking any sign of the desired prey.
The man before Taylor is clad in a smart, single-breasted jacket, made of a dappled gray fabric, and a nine button front closed with a set of gleaming brass fasteners.
The design of the garment features several additional details: a six piece body, and two piece sleeves, and a luxuriant lining made of a cotton material.
The fabric used in this jacket is probably from the finer kerseys and broadcloths. Kersey is a kind of coarse woollen cloth that was an important component of the textile trade in Medieval England. The back of the cloth is napped and shorn after fulling, producing a dense, warm...
For a moment, Taylor's own metaphorical hackles rise as she senses something amiss in the man's involuntary reaction, but quickly smothers them under her cheery facade. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, taking the gentleman's hand with barest moment of hesitation, and gives him an apologetic smile. "Thank you, Sir. Though the fault's mine really. I really ought to look out where I'm going more often," she says, playing off her earlier skittishness as mere clumsiness.
Oddly to the man, even at such close proximity, Taylor would smell only of road dust, well-worn leather and the faint aromas of humanity one picks up during the day. Any distinctive smells are mute in comparison.
The gray-clad strange cracks a undeniably handsome smile as he replies in a genteel Carolina drawl,
"Oh, no need to apologize, madam, my name is Harris, James Cameron-Harris, chiefly of Wilmington in the fair state of North Carolina. And where, if I might be so bold as to inquire, might you be from?"
This 'James' places an especial emphasis upon his utterance of the doubled surname 'Cameron-Harris', particularly the first part, as if it might be a recognizable designation.
Jamisen has never seen the script on the page before. I wonder if the library here will have anything like this...
Jamisen approaches the young lady behind the desk. Excuse me, ma'am. I would like a room for the night, after all. My horse is already in the stables. Would you happen to know where the local library is?
The lady dressed in the dark navy dress, who had been identified as one "Ardeth" by her companion's instructions, replies curtly,
"Why yes, that would be in the Salt Lake City and County Building, it's located at 451 Washington Square. I can give you directions, if you need them."
It seems as if, for some reason, she is slightly hostile to anyone interested in this establishment.
Taylor doesn't quite jump into the air when she feels a light brush on her shoulder and the low whisper of a man in her ear. Choking down a scream she spins around, eyes wide in surprise as she searches for the source of the voice. Ghosts were definitely NOT a part of her itinerary today! Slowly she backs up towards the exit, her entire body tense like a coiled spring and ready to bolt. So focused elsewhere she is, she nearly bowls over a man that had just entered the foyer and had turned around to address the rest of them.
Edit: These dice hate meee!
Taylor staggers to her feet. "Oh gosh, I am so sorry, Sir! I-I didn't see you there," the thoroughly rattled woman apologies profusely as she attempts to help the man she'd just collided with to his feet.
The new entree grunts in a more than slightly feral manner as Taylor collides with his speedy movement into the grand lobby of the hotel. In the course of his arrested passage, the warmth of the powerful exhalation from his nostrils forcibly disturbing the slight, pale hairs of Taylor's cheeks. For whatever reason, brings to her mind the unwelcome and troublesome image of a predator sniffing the chill air of a dense, unlit underbrush at night, its powerful, guttering nostrils eagerly seeking any sign of the desired prey.
The man before Taylor is clad in a smart, single-breasted jacket, made of a dappled gray fabric, and a nine button front closed with a set of gleaming brass fasteners.
The design of the garment features several additional details: a six piece body, and two piece sleeves, and a luxuriant lining made of a cotton material.
The fabric used in this jacket is probably from the finer kerseys and broadcloths. Kersey is a kind of coarse woollen cloth that was an important component of the textile trade in Medieval England. The back of the cloth is napped and shorn after fulling, producing a dense, warm fabric with a smooth back.
The exact color of the fabric is bright cadet gray, similar to the fabric used by Virginia Military Institute, or U.S. Military Academy dress uniforms.
His shoulders are surmounted by epaulettes, a type of ornamental shoulder piece or decoration used as insignia of rank by armed forces and other organizations, as was the case for the Richmond clothing bureau designed garments.
The man's trousers, made of the same dappled gray kersey, is ornamented with belt loops, a sign of origins from the well known Richmond and the Charleston clothing depots.
The trimming on his jackets range is an elaborate, full facing on the collar and cuffs, colored a pitch black.
His short blonde hair, brilliant, evanescent blue eyes, and pale skin, alongside his uniform, mark him as a Southerner of English extractions, but a family with an exceptional admixture of Germanic blood. Indeed, he could easily be mistaken as of Norwegian, Danish, or Swedish extraction.
The man's thick southern accent, confirms this identification, but his expression belies the predatory expression of his bodily reaction,
"Beg your pardon, Madam!
He bends in a gallant gesture to help right Taylor on her feet.
All of that people walking around with strange auras, but these three...
"So... Let's get the lay of the land a bit..."
He walks to the strangers coming out of the hotel, trying to keep a humble appearance. He's not sure how mestizos are treated that far west from home, though he could bet his left hand that they're no more welcomed than anywhere else.
With a colourful and out of order bowing, he breaks the ice. "Hello, Ma'am and Sirs. Are you new in town?"
There are specific effects of Detect Magic based on how many rounds the character devotes to the spell, as well as their line of sight and attention. Could you take a quick look at the spell description and give me a better sense of what you're doing so I can know how to adjudicate the spell effects? I've only given you the effects so far of Round 1, which determines the presence or absence of magical auras (it was affirmative).
Jamisen takes the envelope. Ah, my thanks. If you don't mind, I'll read the message now and handle the matter of a room in a moment. Jamisen takes a step back, turns, and walks towards a well lit - but furniture-free - corner of the room. He opens the letter, looking curiously at the emblem in the seal. It's not one he is altogether unfamiliar with, though he's not sure why it would be on a letter from Amily. He takes a swift glance around - not shadily, but not looking too long at any individual either. Jamisen is checking that he is out of the way, and that no one can read over his shoulder as he unfolds the paper.
As soon as he has opened the letter, it immediately becomes apparent to Jamisen that something is amiss. The envelope contains several sheets of paper, all densely covered in an unfamiliar mode of writing (IMAGE).
"Damn, what's with so many weird people?" Bringer starts to think coming here was not the best of ideas, and weighs some other solutions. He could wait for Harris to come out, though it seems he'll be escorted. He might follow him to his next assignment, but who knows how long would that take... In the end, he decides to wait for the night and try a quick sneak in. Meanwhile, he'll take note of the people coming in and out of the hotel, and see if he can discern any pattern. Who knows, maybe he can interrogate one of them...
The crowd flowed down the wide avenue the same way the River Jordan always meets its banks. The Jordan River, in the state of Utah, United States, is a river about 51 miles (82 km) long. Regulated by pumps at its headwaters at Utah Lake, it flows northward through the Salt Lake Valley and empties into the Great Salt Lake.
So it was with the crowd. The mood of the people swirled in unseen currents beneath the dark surface of their faces. In a thousand strong men there was not a single smile or expression of doubt.
The only sound was their feet on the aging tarmac and the howl of the wind rising above them. Every one of them must have been feeling the first bite of winter through their tired clothes and worn boots.
Ahead could be heard the whirring spindles of wagon wheels talking to the air with their "masters" on board.
During Bringer of Hope's observation, several curious individuals emerge from the elaborate entrance of the Knutsford Hotel.
The first guy puts the North Carolina Native in mind of an elegant dragonfly. He has beady gray eyes. His thick, curly, cherry red hair is medium-length and is worn in a simple style. He has got a full beard, reminiscent of picture books of viking raiders. He is very short, perhaps only five and a half feet tall, and has a graceful build. His skin is ruddy. He has high cheekbones and large hands. His wardrobe is businesslike and unusual, with a completely purple color scheme.
Next is a serene woman who has deep-set iron-gray eyes. Her fine, curly, sand-colored hair is neck-length and is worn in a weird, elegant style. She is very tall and has an angular build. Her skin is cream-colored. She has long-fingered hands. Her wardrobe is attractive and weird, with a lot of red and black.
Thirdly, is a cunning man who has round blue eyes that are like two lagoons. His silky, curly, black hair is short and is worn in an uncomplicated style. He has a handlebar mustache. He has a wide-chested build. His skin is pale. He has large feet. His wardrobe is flattering, with a lot of yellow.
The voice sighs, "Look, I don't want to become visible with this many people around, and I'll definitely stand out in here if I leave and come back. You're Garou, no? So am I. Look, even if you don't want to go around the side, at least give me a chance to introduce myself properly."
Are you two going to continue to work out this scene between you, or do you need me to describe more?
The demure clerk in the dark navy dress and pitch black nape-jacket soon takes note of Jamissen, and beacons him to the front desk of the reception area with a practiced, but not especially inviting, hand gesture,
"Sir, if you'll please come this way, I can help you with your lodgings."
Distracted by the commotion at the door, it takes Jamisen a moment to realize the lady at the front desk is motioning him forward. Ah, yes. Thank you. I actually am not yet sure if I will require a room here tonight. I understand this is not a post station by any means... He snorts mentally to himself: Fanciest post station on the continent if it were! but do you perhaps have a message for a Jamisen Tinsson? I was directed here by a relative whom I have not seen in years, and I am afraid I may have missed her arrival.
The dark-clad desk clerk regards Jamisen with a firmly cast expression that is at once inquisitive and grave, and replies with what are apparently carefully-selected words, each syntactical choice uttered with an unmistakable air of deliberation.
"Why... yes Mr. Tinsson, I do believe we have... a parcel addressed to your person. I'll have little Nephi get it from the back directly."
Her reply sets the long-limbed, freckled teenage boy who had until then stood passively behind the reception desk into a fervid whirl of activity. The young man quickly returns from some unseen area behind the counter with a small parcel, delivering it with deft gesture which his ungainly pubescent body otherwise belies, into the patiently-waiting hands of Ardeth, the dark-clad desk lady desk clerk.
"Here you are, Mr. Tinsson" she states as Ardeth proffers the bundle,
The small envelope is addressed to Jamisen in a flowing, elegant hand, easily identifiable as that of his sister, who departed their home, set eagerly on the long road to the promised riches of the West coast.
Curiously, the seal of the envelope is affixed with a melted dollop of wax, in whose malleable surface has been impressed the image of the Eye of Providence.
The Eye of Providence (or the all-seeing eye of God) is a symbol, having its origin in Christian iconography, showing an eye often surrounded by rays of light or a glory and usually enclosed by a triangle. It represents the eye of God watching over humanity (the concept of divine providence). In the modern era, a notable depiction of the eye is the reverse of the Great Seal of the United States, which appears on the United States one-dollar bill.
Ah, sorry, somehow I understood that one of them was separating from the group.
Bringer decides to pose as a drunk - most of his family were lost souls anyway, and that would be what's expected. He takes a walk or two around the hotel, examining it and being attentive of whoever enters or exits. He's also using Detect Magic.
Bring of Hope:
The Knutsford Hotel is four stories in height and of ornate design. It forms a prominent landmark when arriving in the town centre from a westerly direction. There is a series of arches at ground level within rusticated stonework.
The main entrance is on the corner where the two roads meet, rounded in shape and surrounded by an ornate architrave and segmental pediment, which together serve to create a sense of importance for the establishment.
The pediment is found in classical Greek temples, renaissance, and neoclassical architecture. A prominent example is the Parthenon, where it contains a tympanum decorated with figures in relief sculpture.
A variant is the "segmental" or "arch" pediment, where the normal angular slopes of the cornice are replaced by one in the form of a segment of a circle, in the manner of a depressed arch. Both traditional and segmental pediments have "broken" and "open" forms. In the broken pediment the raking cornice is left open at the apex.
The second story has fluted columns and simple cross windows. The windows, columns and dentil on the third story are surrounded by decorative carvings. The attic is on the fourth story and set within a decorative, balustraded parapet under which there is a decorative frieze.
The milling crowds moving in and out of the hotel definitely contain within them a strong magical aura.
Jamisen is weary of travel. His hat is covered in dust. His coat is covered in dust. His horse is covered in dust. Even his dust is covered in dust. They have been traveling for the last two weeks, and they are finally in Salt Lake City. He pats Argenti on the flank as they turn on to the main street. Only a few more blocks to the hotel, boy. It won't be long now until you see a warm stable, and I a warm room. The grandeur of the hotel's high profile comes into view as they get closer. Amily's last letter said that if I wanted to see her that I need to go to the Knutsford Hotel and request a package there... I wonder if she knew I was going to Salt Lake anyways? I hope this turns out to be more than a dead end... Jamisen has been looking for answers for the last six years now, the last two as an inducted member of the Wayward Path. The sights and knowledge gained over the five years prior to this March had not readied him for life as a Garou; he is still uneasy with the wolf inside him. As he rides Argenti at a walk along the road, he feels an inner sense of distrust at the rising buildings on either side, with that strange internal disconnect he's come to associate with the wolf.
Ah. Here's the hotel stable. Jamisen dismounts, and hands the reins to a nearby stable boy. See that he is stabled with clean water and some hay. This is for you if he's settled when I come back out to brush him down. Jamisen holds out a dime, making sure the boy can see it, then pulls it back to his pocket. He turns to the entrance of the hotel and walks in through the front door. Mindful of blocking the entrance, he takes another step forward and to the side before looking around. Whatever would Amily have to do with a place like this? This place is so very... expensive. Amily, what's going on here? If Amily truly was staying here, his sister had done much, much better for herself than he - or she - had ever dreamed she would.
He looks over at the front desk; it's obvious that...
The demure clerk in the dark navy dress and pitch black nape-jacket soon takes note of Jamissen, and beacons him to the front desk of the reception area with a practiced, but not especially inviting, hand gesture,
"Sir, if you'll please come this way, I can help you with your lodgings."
Yes, the perfect chance. The spirits are beside him, Bringer thinks. Carefully and discreetly, he follows the man, looking for a chance to join him if he visits a tavern, or board him if he ends up alone. "Grant me the quietness of the snake, spirits" he whispers.
[dice=Stealth, Guidance]1d20+15+1 +2 if starts and ends turn in concealment or cover.
Right now, the group is headed into the Knutsford Hotel, are you going in or waiting to see if they come out, and following them from that point?
Tayor's polite smile falters for a moment at being so bluntly stonewalled. A moment of suspicion crosses her mind, but she decides raising a stink now would be too much of a hassle. She brings her mailbag forward and roots through the large bag. Instead of the package though, she produces a small sheaf of papers.
"Right then, Mr. Wyatt." A bit of her drawl starts to seep into her speech. "If you'll just sign these waivers here, I can transfer the package over to you. This one certifies that you are acting in official capacity in the stead of Mr. Holmes and that the package has been delivered as to the best of our abilities in accordance to the commission. This one here authorizes the payment of a sum of thirty dollars by the delivery's commisioner to be wired to the Salt Lake City Post Office for sevices rendered. And this last one acknowledges that any form of mail fraud is punishable by federal law." She hands Mr. Wyatt each page in turn to be signed.
"Standard policy," she shrugs, polite smile still on her face. Most days she hates bureaucracy and all of the paperwork such institutions entail, but today she'd begrudgingly admit it was good for covering ones own behind.
Tayor's polite smile falters for a moment at being so bluntly stonewalled. A moment of suspicion crosses her mind, but she decides raising a stink now would be too much of a hassle. She brings her mailbag forward and roots through the large bag. Instead of the package though, she produces a small sheaf of papers.
"Right then, Mr. Wyatt." A bit of her drawl starts to seep into her speech. "If you'll just sign these waivers here, I can transfer the package over to you. This one certifies that you are acting in official capacity in the stead of Mr. Holmes and that the package has been delivered as to the best of our abilities in accordance to the commission. This one here authorizes the payment of a sum of thirty dollars by the delivery's commisioner to be wired to the Salt Lake City Post Office for sevices rendered. And this last one acknowledges that any form of mail fraud is punishable by federal law." She hands Mr. Wyatt each page in turn to be signed.
"Standard policy," she shrugs, polite smile still on her face. Most days she hates bureaucracy and all of the paperwork such institutions entail, but today she'd begrudgingly admit it was good for covering ones own behind.
The undoubtedly imposing gentleman who has identified himself as Mr. Wyatt reaches out with a practiced ease to receive both the parcel and requisite documents from Taylor's outstretched hands.
Orson nods slightly upon taking the documents into his web of pale digits, fingers that look as if their slightest touch must impart the chill of a midnight breeze roaring through the untamed timber-lands. This ostensibly polite, but, in his peculiar and sinister fashioning, imposingly ceremonial superior inclination, threateningly inclines the tall dark top hat which surmounts his blonde-festooned brow, the ebony expanse of the precipitous headpiece leaning towards the postwoman like some storied monolith, like a dark tower out of song and legend.
Mr Wyatt's assured tone slices the air again, interspersing itself into the first space of quiet created by the cessation of Taylor's proffered directions,
"I assure you, Miss, that I am only too-well-acquainted with such epistolary procedures."
As Orson begins to duly authorize each of the waivers, inscribing his marks with a high-bloomed quill pen grasped like a surgical instrument within the cold but elegant embrace of his five frigid right-handed phalanges, a peculiar detail of the man's penmanship begins to set it self upon Tyalor's notice.
Seemingly, he signs each register doubly, once in a highly, one might even say needlessly, ornate cursive that is still recognizably English. Secondly, he follows these familiar if rococo marks with another set of characters, these latter completely unfamiliar to Taylor's eye or recognition.
A tall, muscled human opens the door to the hotel and pauses. His hair is black and his eyes are green. Even at first glance, the hotel seems a monument to all the stupid things that humans care about. But it is where he expects to finally find Theodora. He absentmindedly rubs the handle of the revolver he wears at his side. For just a moment, it feels like something brushes against the side of his leg. Looking down, he doesn't see anything, but it does break him out of his reverie. He steps inside, approaching the front desk where several people are having a conversation.
So, finally. It's been a long way back from North Carolina, but in the end his prey is near. Bringer can smell the blood he's going to spill, the satisfaction.
"You shouldn't rejoice in that." Of course. His totem spirit, Mikinak, acts as his conscience. They had a deal, long ago - or not that long, but it seems ages, since so many things have happened. Mikinak would help Bringer find his pray, and then he would follow her advice.
The trail had taken him to Salt Lake City, a quite new place in the Utah Territory, founded not long ago by Smith and his Mormon people. The spirits have been helpful, and when not, asking goes a long way. James Harris seems to be a big shot, something to be taken into consideration - he won't be defenseless. Bringer has been asking around town, specifically moving through low class places, and someone finally told him about the hotel yesterday, after several shots of bourbon.
Wearing no more than a dirty old canvas jumpsuit and a once white linen shirt, Bringer cannot even dream of entering the hotel. He has to look for another way.
Bringer takes a look outside, and seeks for any open windows. He notes them mentally, but still decides to wait for the darkness. Meanwhile, he'll have to deal with his other problem: he doesn't know in which room Harris is staying...
Suddenly, the tumult of humanity that fills the busy thoroughfare of State Street disgorges a curious party, all headed straight for the hotel entrance which Bringer-of-Hope has decided to avoid.
The some half-dozen men all wear gray frock coats made of vicuña, a fabric whose exotic origin is the valuable wool which is gleaned from one of the two wild South American camelids which live in the high alpine areas of the Andes, the other being the guanaco. This unusual fabric is stitched together, however, with common weave pattern which is known as broadcloth. Another unusual details, the revers of the mens' coats is lined with black silk facings, apparently either satin or grosgrain.
Each of the gentleman also wear a pair of cashmere striped morning trousers -- cashmere 'stripes' here referring to the muted design in black, silver and charcoal grey, not the fibers of the cloth.
However, before they cross the Knutsford's imposing rococo lintel, one of the number turns part ways to the rest of the company,
"Nuts for us boys, Mas'r Harris will be sure filling our pockets, and only half th'work to get it too! A good wage, if you can get it!"
Taylor and Maiitsoh, please be so kind as to roll for a Perception check with your next post.
Sure thing. Do you just need the roll or should I advance the conversation?
[dice=Perception]1d20+14
Taylor turns around to regard the newcomer, leaving the bundle of letters on the receptionist's desk. Seeing the posh man standing behind her, she puts on a polite smile and bows her head slightly. "Ah. Hello, Sir. My name is Taylor. I am a postal worker, here to personally deliver a package to a one Mr. Holmes. Would you perhaps be him?" Internally she winces. Using 'Proper' speech and trying to keep her Virginian drawl out of her voice made her sound so wooden.
I just need the roll.
The newcomer smirks slightly at her remark, his expression conveying a curious admixture of genuine amusement and predatory mall-intent.
"Me, Mr. Holmes?"
His thin, pale lips emit a slight chuckle,
"No indeed, my name is Orson Wyatt, and I am the manager of this establishment. Ardeth here,"
he gestures at the young lady in the elaborate navy dress with his right hand,
"will, as she just indicated to you, be more than happy to receive the hotel's mail. However, I need to put this more directly to you, it would seem, that there is precisely no possibility of you directly meeting with the owner just to drop off a parcel. I don't know where you come from, but that's not how we do things here. I will be more than happy to convey any special delivery to Mr. Holmes, so why don't you just give it to me directly and be on your way miss?"
Maiitsoh pads through the town as a ghost wolf- unseen by all. If anyone could see him, they would notice a large, well-muscled timber wolf, with blue fur and golden eyes, looking from side to side and following his nose. From the wolf's perspective, he is simply following his pull towards civilization, watching the spirits as they dance through the road and guiding him towards what appears to be a large hotel. Inside, he smells more of his kind, a rarity these days. He hadn't seen another Garou in probably close to a decade by this point.
So, he waits outside the door for someone to enter. While waiting, he refreshes his invisibility- he might be able to hold it for close to half an hour a day, but it still requires work- until a passer-by opens the door enough for him to squeeze through. Once inside, he sits off to the side, head cocked and nose alighting on an exotic-looking woman.
Is it her? he thinks to himself, and assumes human shape], but stays invisible as he observes her interaction with the bellhop.
Well, she looks about as out-of-place as I do, though for a very different reason. Is that really what fashion is like these days? It can't be, she's practically a white fox. Her name's Taylor? I need to talk to her when she leaves. he muses, brooding off to the side.
Before the unusually-garbed woman who has just identified herself as 'Taylor' can respond to the information proffered by the demure desk clerk regarding the hotel proprietor Mr. Holme's uncertain whereabouts, another character joins the receptionist.
Partly hidden beneath the brim of his top hat, the man's short crown of flaxen blonde hair and set of evanescent blue eyes at least suggest a Scandinavian heritage.
The man's black suit is made of a fine broadcloth, his dark black satin vest is ornamented with expertly-crafted, small metal buttons so that he looks like a minister. This suit has the high padded collar of the 1830s, broad lapels, full upper sleeves, and narrow cuffs. His leg-o’-mutton sleeves follow the time of women’s huge full sleeves of the 1830s. Its buttons are 3/4” disks that are hand covered in heavy silk, of popular use on coats. The trousers match the coat because it is a uniform.
The skirt sewn on at the waistline of the man's black suit is very flared for the 1850s, much more than that of the 1840s frock coats.
The top hat, colloquially 'topper', he is wearing was surely made in London.
His large, un-knotted cravat is white silk, an indication of formality, not used every day. Indeed, a white tie is only at important gatherings such as preaching, or with a new suit for socializing in the 1850s life of Salt Lake, with dinner parties and balls.
He nods pointedly with his defined chin towards the newcomer,
Taylor walked down State Street, cheerily taking in the sights. Not even a year ago, when she and her father first arrived in Salt Lake City, she would have garnered suspicious looks and furtive side-glances from the locals. They were outsiders after all, gentiles. Worse, they were Catholic, even if not particularly devout ones; though how that tidbit of gossip was spread around she would never know. Her exotic looks didn't help, being a Japanese-Scot. She flipped her straight, red hair behind her shoulder and sighed, they even tittered about how she dressed herself! Well excuse her for not wanting to wear a full length dress while on her hunting expeditions; trousers and a belted tunic were the name of the game unless one wanted to get caught on every branch and thorn. Thankfully nowadays she merely was treated with polite tolerance. A few even smiled and greeted her along her routes through the city while delivering mail.
A wicker to her right pulled Taylor from her thoughts. Glancing in that direction, she saw Crackerjack shaking her head to ward off a fly. Taylor smiled a little. Honestly, she didn't need the postal mare to make her rounds. In fact she probably could do her routes even faster if she left the mail-horse back at the office, but that would mean lugging around all of the mail she needed to deliver on her own back. Nooo thank you! Beside, she liked the horse's company, she had a very mild temperament and didn't mind Taylor's ramblings.
Right now, the saddle bags were nearly empty. This was to be her last stop for the day and there were only a few more parcels left in the satchels. She'd left the Knutsford Hotel for last as there was a delivery with her that had specific instructions on it stating that the package must be delivered in person by a courier to a one, Mr. House. Taylor vaguely recalled hearing that he was some sort of big-shot business mogul out here in the west. She wasn't sure what to make of the odd request, but in the end it didn't concern her and she'd do her job...
I usually use present tense in writing posts, if that wouldn't be too much trouble for you.
Entering Knutsford Hotel lobby is like stumbling upon a treasure trove of lovingly preserved 18th century French antiques and intricate reproductions.
Indeed, the hotel is steeped in gorgeous period pieces, from the glittering Florence chandelier in the lobby to original tapestries to spectacular bronze sculptures.
First opened in 1951, it was the Hotel’s foreign financiers, Mr. and Madame François Dupré, who began to enrich the property’s vast collection of artwork. Mme. Dupré, especially, was extremely knowledgeable about the period and the sophisticated grandeur of the pieces.
Together, the couple purchased and installed many of the extravagant objets d’art that can still be seen throughout the lobby, spa and guest rooms.
Upon checking in, guests will notice the copy of the famous Nicolas Poussin painting, Landscape with Diogenes, behind reception. The lobby area is also graced with two stunning 19th century console tables and original bronzes.
La Galerie, meanwhile, is hung with three chandeliers made in Murano near Venice; one is genuine while the other two originals, which were damaged, were carefully reproduced in 1849.
What is arguably the focal point of the entire collection is also located in La Galerie. It features two superb Flanders tapestries.
The first, called War and Peace Protecting the Arts, comes from the Leyniers studio and dates from the first half of the 18th century.
The second, called The Triumph, dates from the same period. These pieces depict what a relatively peaceful time it was during those years in France and the beginning of the Age of Enlightenment.
The rest of the Hotel is also adorned with carefully chosen pieces.
Le Cinq restaurant, for example, features a still-life with game bird and a still-life with fruit and parrot – both paintings dating back to the 18th century.
In the Spa, guests can admire the beautifully restored terracotta fountain and a trompe-l’oeil fresco in the swimming pool which represents the Grand Trianon gardens at the Chateau de Versailles.
The young lady behind the receptionists' desk is dressed in an impressive dark blue, navy domed and bell-shaped skirt, supported by a crinoline petticoat. It is further decorated in deep flounces and tiers.
On her legs, she wears long bloomers and pantaloons trimmed with delicate lace were popular.
Around her slight shoulders, she wears a midnight black cape-jacket, as well as a fashionable paisley-patterned shawls.
Her hair is swept swept back into a bun that is partially hidden by her bonnet.
The lady regards Taylor somewhat skeptically, as she gracefully extends her hands to receive the shipment
"I can certainly take the mail, but I'm not sure if our proprietor is currently about. He's supposed to be having an important meeting with some foreign investors at some point this morning or early afternoon, but I don't know exactly when."
The obligation of a first degree of the Nauvoo Endowment:
“Binding myself under no less a penalty than that of having my throat cut across, my tongue torn out by its roots, and buried in the rough sands of the sea at low-water mark, where the tide ebbs and flows twice in twenty four hours, should I ever knowingly or willingly violate this my solemn oath and obligation as an Entered Apprentice Mason. So help me God, and keep me steadfast in the due performance of the same.”
The obligation of a second degree of the Nauvoo Endowment:
“Binding myself under no less a penalty than that of having my left breast torn open, my heart plucked out, and given as a prey to the wild beasts of the field and the fowls of the air as a prey.”
The obligation of a third degree of the Nauvoo Endowment:
“Binding myself under no less a penalty than that of having my body severed in two, my bowels taken from thence and burned to ashes, the ashes scattered to the four winds of heaven, so that no more trace or remembrance may be had of so vile and perjured a wretch as I, should I ever knowingly or willingly violate this my solemn obligation as a Latter-day Saint. So help me God, and keep me steadfast in the due performance of the same.”
The 'Oath of Vengeance' of the Nauvoo Endowment:
"You and each of you do covenant and promise that you will pray and never cease to pray to Almighty God to avenge the blood of the prophets upon this nation, and that you will teach the same to your children and to your children's children unto the third and fourth generation."
The Latter Day Saint movement is a religious movement within Christianity that arose during the Second Great Awakening in the early 19th century and that led to the set of doctrines, practices, and cultures called Mormonism, and to the existence of numerous Latter Day Saint churches. Its history is characterized by intense controversy and persecution in reaction to some of the movement's doctrines and practices and their relationship to mainstream Christianity.
The founder of the Latter Day Saint movement was Joseph Smith, who was raised in the burned-over district of Upstate New York, and claimed that, in response to prayer, he saw God the Father and Jesus Christ, as well as angels and other visions. This eventually led him to a restoration of Christian doctrine that, he said, was lost after the early Christian apostles were killed. In addition, several early leaders made marked doctrinal and leadership contributions to the movement, including Oliver Cowdery, Sidney Rigdon, and Brigham Young. Modern-day revelation from God continues to be a principal belief of the Mormon faith.
According to the account Smith told in 1838, he went to the woods to pray about which church to join but fell into the grip of an evil power that nearly overcame him. At the last moment, he was rescued by two shining "personages" (implied to be Jesus and God the Father) who hovered above him. One of the beings told Smith not to join any existing churches because all taught incorrect doctrines.
Smith also described many other visions involving angels. Some of his earliest visitations involved a Nephite prophet-warrior, who called himself Moroni. Smith said this angel appeared to him many times, and showed him where to find a set of buried Golden Plates containing ancient writings that the prophet-warrior had sealed in a stone box before his death, together with other artifacts. The writings on the Golden Plates, according to Smith, contained an account of the various nations that inhabited ancient America, and described how they were led to the New World by Jesus, but eventually lost their Christian faith through a series of wars and corruption.
After he said he received the Golden Plates, Smith began to dictate their translation to his wife Emma Hale Smith and various associates of his, including Martin Harris and, for most of the later translation, Oliver Cowdery. Smith said he translated the text through the gift and power of God and through the aid of the Urim and Thummim, or seer stone. The resulting writings were published in March 1830 as the Book of Mormon.
On April 6, 1830, Joseph Smith, Oliver Cowdery, and a group of approximately 50 believers met to formally organize the Church of Christ into a legal institution.By later accounts, this meeting was a charismatic event, in which members of the congregation had visions, prophesied, spoke in tongues, ecstatically shouted praises to the Lord, and fainted (Joseph Smith History, 1839 draft). Also, the church formally ordained a lay ministry. Smith and Cowdery, according to their 1831 account, were each ordained as "an apostle of Jesus Christ, an elder of the church". ("Articles and Covenants of the Church of Christ", Painesville Telegraph, April 19, 1831).
The movement more than doubled in size with the conversion of Sidney Rigdon, a former Campbellite minister, who led several congregations of Restorationists in Ohio's Western Reserve area, causing hundreds of his adherents to follow him into Mormonism. A fiery orator, Rigdon was called to be Smith's spokesman, and immediately became one of the movement's leaders. By 1831 the church's headquarters were established in Kirtland, Ohio, and Smith urged the membership to gather there or to a second outpost of the church in Far West, Missouri.
As the church was gathering to Kirtland, a second gathering place was established 900 miles distant, on the frontier in Jackson County, Missouri. Joseph Smith had revealed to Latter Day Saints that they were to prepare "the way of the Lord for his Second Coming", "for the time is soon at hand that I shall come...." (D & C 34:6,7) He also revealed that the "center place" of the City of Zion would be near the town of Independence in Jackson County. (D & C 57:3) Latter Day Saints began to settle the area to "build up" the City of Zion in 1831. Settlement was rapid and non-Mormon residents became alarmed that they might lose political control of the county to the Latter Day Saints. In October 1833, non-Mormon vigilantes succeeded in driving the Mormons from the county. Deprived of their homes and property, the Latter Day Saints temporarily settled in the area around Jackson County, especially in Clay County.
The Latter Day Saint movement was conceived as a restoration of practices believed to have been lost in a Great Apostasy from the true gospel of Jesus Christ. Temple worship played a prominent role in the Bible's Old Testament, and in the Book of Mormon.
On December 27, 1832, two years after the organization of the Church of Christ, the church's founder, Joseph Smith, reported receiving a revelation that called upon church members to restore the practice of temple worship. The Latter Day Saints in Kirtland, Ohio, were commanded to:
"Establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God."
Latter Day Saints see temples as the fulfillment of a prophecy found in Malachi 3:1 (KJV): "Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me; and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, he shall come, saith the Lord of hosts." It is believed to emphasize that when the Jesus comes again, he will come "to his temple."
As plans were drawn up to construct a temple in Kirtland, the decision was made to simultaneously begin work on a second temple at the church's colony in Jackson County, Missouri. Surviving plans indicate that both temples would have the same dimensions and approximately the same appearance and both were to be at the "centerplaces" of cities designed according to Smith's plan for the City of Zion.
Conflict in Missouri led to the expulsion of the Mormons from Jackson County, preventing any possibility of building a temple there, but work on the temple in Kirtland continued. At great cost and sacrifice, the Latter Day Saints finished the Kirtland Temple in early 1836. On March 27, they held a lengthy dedication ceremony and numerous spiritual experiences and visitations were reported.
With the help of sympathetic non-Mormons in Illinois, in the spring of 1839 the Latter Day Saint refugees regrouped and began to establish a new headquarters in Nauvoo. Smith and other leaders were allowed after several months of harsh treatment to escape Missourian custody, and they rejoined the main body of the movement in April, 1839. In 1841, construction began on a new temple, significantly more elaborate than the one left behind in Kirtland. The Nauvoo city charter authorized independent municipal courts, the foundation of a university and the establishment of a militia unit known as the "Nauvoo Legion." These and other institutions gave the Latter Day Saints a considerable degree of autonomy.
In 1839, the Mormons regrouped at a new headquarters in Nauvoo, Illinois. They were again commanded to build a "House of the Lord"—this one even larger and greater than those that went before. Plans for the temple in Nauvoo followed the earlier models in Kirtland and Independence with lower and upper courts, but the scale was much increased.
On May 3, 1842, Joseph Smith prepared the second floor of his Red Brick Store, in Nauvoo, Illinois, to represent "the interior of a temple as circumstances would permit". The next day, May 4, he introduced the Nauvoo endowment ceremony to nine associates: Associate President and Patriarch to the Church Hyrum Smith (Smith's brother); first counselor in the First Presidency, William Law; three of the Twelve Apostles, Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball and Willard Richards; Nauvoo stake president, William Marks; two bishops, Newel K. Whitney and George Miller; and a close friend, Judge James Adams of Springfield, Illinois.
Throughout 1843 and 1844, Smith continued to initiate other men, as well as women, into the endowment ceremony. By the time of his death on June 27, 1844, more than 50 persons had been admitted into the Anointed Quorum, the name by which this group called themselves.
The Nauvoo endowment consisted of two phases: (1) an initiation, and (2) an instructional and testing phase. The initiation consisted of a washing and anointing, culminating in the clothing of the patron in a "Garment of the Holy Priesthood", which is thereafter worn as an undergarment.
The instructional and testing phase of the endowment consisted of a scripted reenactment of Adam and Eve's experience in the Garden of Eden. The instruction is punctuated with personal covenants, gestures, and a prayer circle around an altar. At the end of instruction, the initiate's knowledge of symbolic gestures and key-words is tested at a "veil", a symbolic final frontier for the initiate to face the judgement of Jesus, before entering the presence of God in the celestial kingdom.
Whenever Latter Day Saints gathered in large numbers, they met with opposition from neighbors who suspected that Mormon bloc-voting would lead to theocracy. By the mid-1840s, many non-Mormons in Hancock County felt threatened by growing Mormon political power, commercial rivalries, and a new religion with at least two elements that were hard to digest in the religious community of that time: first, Latter Day Saints had a somewhat different perspective on the nature of God from traditional Protestants; second, the claim of modern revelation, together with the claim of new scripture, opened the canon of the Bible.
Smith's destruction of the Expositor exacerbated all these fears and non-Mormons throughout Illinois began to clamor for his arrest. When Smith submitted to imprisonment in the county seat of Carthage, the Governor of Illinois, Thomas Ford, left the jail, taking the only impartial local militia unit with him. With the jail being guarded only by two guards and a unit of anti-Mormon militiamen, the Carthage Greys, a mob of disbanded militia units, attacked without resistance. Joseph and his brother Hyrum were killed.
In the months following Smith's murder, it was not immediately clear who would lead the church. His brother, Hyrum, who was Assistant President of the Church, (and as such would have been Smith's natural successor) had died with him.
In a general meeting of the church at Nauvoo on August 8, 1844, Rigdon and Young presented their respective cases. As the only surviving member of the First Presidency (who had not officially apostatized), Rigdon argued that he should be made "guardian" of the church. Young argued that without Smith there, there was no presiding authority higher than the Twelve. Therefore, he proposed that the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles be constituted as the new presiding authority. A vote of the congregation overwhelmingly supported Young's proposal, said to have been caused by Brigham briefly yet miraculously having the "voice and countenance of Joseph Smith" during his talk.
The largest group of Latter Day Saints followed nine of the Twelve Apostles west, establishing a way station at Winter Quarters, Nebraska in 1846, and entering Salt Lake Valley in 1847. Having planted this initial colony in the Great Basin, Young returned to Winter Quarters and in December 1847 reorganized his faction of the church, establishing himself as the head of a new First Presidency. This reorganization led to additional schisms, including the break with Alpheus Cutler and what became the Church of Christ (Cutlerite) as well as Lyman Wight's group in Zodiac, Texas. Young's organization today, the LDS Church, is headquartered in Salt Lake City, Utah.
On July 24, 1847 143 men, three women and two children founded Great Salt Lake City several miles to the east of the Great Salt Lake, nestled in the northern most reaches of the Salt Lake Valley. At the time of its founding there were no Indians present in the Salt Lake valley. The first two in this company to enter the Salt Lake valley were Orson Pratt and Erastus Snow. These members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ("LDS Church") sought to establish an autonomous religious community and were the first people of European descent to permanently settle in the area now known as Utah. Thousands of Mormon pioneers would arrive in Salt Lake in the coming months and years.
Brigham Young led the Saints west after the death of Joseph Smith. Upon arrival to the Salt Lake valley, Young had a vision by saying, "It is enough. This is the right place. Drive on." (This is commonly shortened to, "This is the place"). There is a state park in Salt Lake City known as This Is The Place Heritage Park commemorating the spot where Young made the famous statement.
Salt Lake City was originally settled by Latter-day Saint Pioneers to be the New Zion according to church President and leader Brigham Young. Young originally governed both the territory and church by a High council which enacted the original municipal orders in 1848. This system was later replaced with a city council and mayor style government.
After a very difficult winter and a miraculous crop retrieval, in which Pioneers reported to have been saved from cricket infestation by seagulls, the "Desert Blossomed as the Rose" in the Salt Lake Valley. Early Pioneers survived by maintaining a very tight-knit community. Under Young's leadership Pioneers worked out a system of communal crop sharing within the various ward houses established throughout the Salt Lake Valley.
The California Gold Rush brought many people through the city on their way to seek fortunes. Salt Lake, which was at the cross-roads of the westward trek, became a vital trading point for speculators and prospectors traveling through. They came with goods from the East, such as clothing and other manufactured items, trading with the local farmers for fresh livestock and crops.
The Congress organized the Utah Territory out of the "State of Deseret" in 1850, and a few months later on January 6, 1851 the city was formally organized as "The City of the Great Salt Lake". Originally, Fillmore, Utah was the territorial capital, but in 1856 it was moved to Salt Lake City, where it has stayed ever since. The city's name was officially changed to "Salt Lake City" at the same time.
In 1857, when the Mormon practice of polygamy came to national awareness, President James Buchanan responded to public outcry by sending an army of 2500 soldiers, called the Utah Expedition, to investigate the LDS Church and install a non-LDS governor to replace Brigham Young. In response, Brigham Young imposed martial law, sending the Utah militia to harass the soldiers, a conflict called the Utah War. Young eventually surrendered to federal control when the new territorial governor, Alfred Cumming, arrived in Salt Lake City on April 12, 1858.
The date is the sixth of November, 1860. In recent U.S. presidential election, Abraham Lincoln beats John C. Breckinridge, Stephen A. Douglas, and John Bell, and is elected as the 16th President of the United States, the first Republican to hold that office.
Leaves are turning, and Utah’s mountain canyons will be aglow with yellows, oranges and rosy pinks for the next few weeks.
The Knutsford Hotel is an upscale hotel on the northeast corner of State Street and Third South (Broadway) in Salt Lake City, Utah. Historically, the site had been the location of the camp where the Mormons had planted their first crops. State Street enters Salt Lake City at 2100 South (State Route 201) and immediately passes west of the Salt Lake County Government Center.
The Knutsford Hotel was built in downtown Salt Lake City in 1591. The architects were the Omaha-based firm of Mendelssohn, Fisher and Lawrie. The general contractors, also from Omaha, were Rocheford & Gould. The hotel is a 132-foot-by-132-foot Victorian-influenced structure built primarily of granite at a cost of $750,000. The hotel has 250 rooms and is advertised as being completely fireproof. The hotel's unique name is in honor of the owner's birthplace in Knutsford, Cheshire, England. Gustavus S. Holmes is the owner and operator of The Knutsford. Holmes also owns The Angelus in Los Angeles, California and often advertises the hotels together.
Like stepping back to the times of wigged aristocrats, the Knutsford Hotel just off the northeast corner of State Street and Third South (Broadway) is hospitality of the highest order. As well as being jam-packed with everything a visiting royal could ever need, the lobby is one of the swishest hotel lobbies in the United States, with immaculate marble columns offset by breathtaking flower arrangements by renowned Californian floral designer Jeff Leatham. The flowers are arguably the highlight of the lobby, with 23 themed arrangements and 150 smaller bouquets put together by Leatham each and every week. Indeed, there's certainly a whiff of Oscar Wilde about the place. Aside from blooms, the lobby also boasts arches that would give the ones in Notre Dame a run for their money, as well as classic gray and wood paneling and 17th-century tapestries decorating the walls.
Underfoot, guests will find a Savonnerie carpet, while dotted around the awesome almost 4000-metre public space are 18th-century marquetry secretaries, Empire consoles and antique Boulle armoires. The entrance is also pretty impressive, with its art deco balustrades, feather-shaped medallions and glass entrance doors painstakingly restored during the last renovation.
