Search Posts
As the festival ends and Armeline accepts their place back as a partner to the Society, Lucien feels the tension leave his shoulders slightly and he actively particpates in the featival. Avoiding gorging or getting drunk, the sylph is still careful to avoid touching the villagers but is happy to learn about his homeland from them. Pondering the visit, the Exiles Noble is quiet on the voyage back and as they wait for the Venture Captain, pens a straight to the point report with little embellishments. "You were right when you thought it would be off. It appeared some dark ritual was being enacted there, though by whom or why we are not certain." he states after Tinker speaks. "Something to do with Whisperwort and may have been due to an old cult so zealously crushed."
Rolling their eyes at the obvious attempt from Tinker to get him to make a fool of himself, Lucien nevertheless follows Valyssa to Armeline's home and subconsciously tenses as the Skald knocks on the door. Listening to the Half-orc's blurted out speech he nods slightly and then turns to the former Noble. "Though some skeletons we have defeated and strange creatures, there is something going on this town, yet that is not our objective." h starts directly, slightly appalled they have not at least been offered inside and have to stand on the porch like commoners. "Our task is that the Decemvirate wish to offer you aid and attempt to make amends for your abandonment. The Demvirate offer a formal apology as they made a decision for the greater good and would like to offer a working relationship."
Pocketing the Wand, Lucien indicates the other two items. "The bottle releases a scream that disturbs spellcasters, bards and breaks Magical silence. The potion will allow you to fly." he states matter of factly as he calls upon his minor magics to clean his own garb and that of his brother. Ignoring the priest, Lucien eyes the house ahead and looks for signs of recent problems. "Time to see how poorly our mission will go." he sighs as he waits for everyone to be ready.
Lucien shrugs elegantly and starts to lead the way from the swamp, glad to be out of this slime and on to solid ground, albeit it probably just as filthy. "If the 'evil' was here then it may be in town, we have more to investigate and our charge. Let us ensure they are safe before we continue on with this." he suggests, indicating the way with his drawn blade.
Lucien's eyes narrow, it all seemed too easy, such an elaborate ritual and only a few raised dead to show for it? This place was certainly strange and there were little no answers coming forth. Turning to Tinker, the noble sweeps their hand over the Box's contents in a hope of identifying them.
He then Speaks to the Investigator, "What does your creature have to say about this 'evil' here. A few skeletons is not a great deal after all and there were many more marks on the map." it is clear he either has not listened to Tinker's rebukes, or simply not cared. "Or should we abandon this trekking in favour of our true purpose?"
Sure they had missed something, Lucien nevertheless shrugs and stands up using a minor cantrip to clean the gathered mud and dust from his clothes. Knowing it to be a futile effort, it makes him feel better anyway. "With this amount of money I am surprised it hasn't yet been ransacked. he comments dryly. With Sword drawn he follows Valyssa towards the ruins and looks around. "Tinker, does the creature know anything about this ruins?" he asks.
Lucien frowns slightly and looks around the room before crouching down to examine the coins scattered on the floor, taking note of any markings upon them before handling them. "Brother, is there any significance to this hovel, or those coins? I would rather not leave something unexplained at our backs in this cursed place."
Following behind the others, Lucien freezes as they check the hut, waiting for something to burst forth. Seeing that none of them scream or fall over, the Noble moves closer to inspect the hut, cursing as he feels his boots sink into mud and disgusting water. Standing at the entrance he calls forth a simple spell, cautious that things are not what they seem.
"Priest, to whom does this hovel belong?"
Lucien turns to Reingard and gestures with his arm in a clear 'after you' motion. "If you wish too, be my guest. Just make sure that neither you or your beast get covered in filth..." he replies. After the hunter sets off, he checks his blade's edge and then carefully follows, trying his best to avoid the worst of the swamp.
Lucien notes the directions and frowns at the mention of a swamp, looking down at his finely tailored Leather pointed boots and Dark velvet trousers and envisaging the mess it will cause. With a final dark look at the Priest, Lucien turns his back and begins to set off in the direction of the swamp. "Once we are done here priest you will help us find our contact. Typical peon behaviour to act rashly and not think of the consequences, no wonder our home has rotted away as it has." turning to Tinker he adds "Is the creature coming with us to the swamp?"
Keeping his blade drawn and one eye on the snivelling priest, Lucien turns his attention to Tinker and his eyes narrow. "The Leshy wishes to join us? What does it know of the Druid, for this 'priest' has just named it murderer. Though I also find we are being sidetracked from our key objective." he replies with his havitual sneer.
Leaving Tinker to discuss the with the Leshy, Lucien keeps his eyes on the priest and his weapon drawn. The priest was finally catching himself in a bed of lies and he was sick of being lured around. "You sounded all too sure when you named it murderer, hoping to have us react and simply murder it? What secrets do you keep priest? For i grow weary of them already."
Lucien eyes the creature and looks it up and down. Turning to the priest he keeps his sword drawn as Tinker garbled in a strange tongue to the creature. "So Priest, you knew nothing about Elm's death but now know enough to identify a creature that killed a man when you have not even looked at the body. You have holes in your tale and are a poor liar. I should think you will tell us what you know and fast."
Auran: "Of course Brother, it is the one on my right hip."
Looking at the obvious trail left for them, Lucien looks around to see if anything else lurks or they can see sign of the promised guards from the Sheriff. Shrugging, he gestures the way the tracks go with his drawn blade and waits for Celestin before setting off after them. "Seems too be the most direct course from here. Let us go then?"
Turning to his brother, the Aspirant Swordlord merely sighs and shakes his head. Leaning against the hut walls by the door he keeps half an ear on the conversation and another on the approach to the house. Lucien nods to Valyssa and pushes himself off the wall he had been leaning on during the conversation regarding the whisperwort. Unsheathing his blade and holding it ready he follows the Skald out of the meagre dwelling and keeps his eyes and ears open for further signs of attack. Assuming they find none he shrugs. "Nothing here, but yes we should move on to the next X on the map." he states, waiting for the others to move on.
Finding something to wipe the gore off his blade with, Lucien calmly sheathes his dueling sword, his manner once more that of the uncaring noble rather than the passionate duellist you had just witnessed. Scanning the room and the red substance with a minor arcane spell he ponders his findings for a time. "Well well, the moss Patch over there radiates an aura of necromancy." he informs, indicating the patch. "Also, you should be able to use that pulp there to simulate a continous flame incantation, whilst the other could be consumed to allow you to breath flames. How disgusting."
Pulling a face at the goop pouring from the strange pumpkin creature, Lucien looks around for another foe when he hears the window smash. Without thinking, he calls out in his elemental tongue of the air, the words heavily accented Auran:
"Celestin!" Darting round the corner, he allows the Skald's atrange song magic to flow through him. His blade glows with arcane energies as he causes his house's crest to appear on it and he brings it down on the pumpkin.
for
Resisting the aura spilling forth from the creatures, Lucien scoffs at the concept of terror emitted by these things and immediately rolls out of the door, darting past the Pumpkin creature to attack the other man-like one. As he does so he runs a finger along the edge of his Dark Iron Duelling Blade, enhancing it's edge.
for for
Lucien's eyes narrow slightly as he gets the feeling something is rather wrong here. Not trusting this priest yet for he does not not know his motives here. Looking around the area, he makes sure no-one lies in wait for them. "We are still on our investigations, tell Me priest what do you know of Whisperwort or the Man that has recently perished? It seems he was dead a few days and yet no-one noticed till now. Odd that"
Listening to the sherrif, Lucien shrugs elegantly and makes sure he remembers the directions, re-assured by the local knowledge shown by the Sherriff. "Any place to start is fine by me, let us check out the next hovel." he agrees as he lraves the house, looking at the retreating Law officer. "Now I fo hope she isn't gettinng her gang of ruffians to pin this on us."
Hand resting on the hily of his blade, he looks up at the single storey dwelling with his habitual sneer. "Yes, someone knock on the door so we can interrogate the peasant."
Lucien frowns and joins his brother, stroking his jaw as he thinks of their next move. Shrugging elegantly he looks for the closest X on the map, not including one that may be marked at their current location. "Unless you have discerned a pattern that can gives us a route, I suggest making our way to the first X." he pauses thoughtfully for a second before turning to the Sheriff. "That is, if the Sheriff wishes to enlist our aid for a price." Turning to Celestin, he whispers in the elemental tongue of the Air spirits. Auran:
"You still have yet to grasp smiling brother, you look terrifying" It is clear that the barb is meant as a joke, but the deadpan delivery makes it somewhat harsh If asked about the Price: "We need information about a Woman that lives in this village, we will ask later once we have looked into your problem"
Lucien stares at the note and map with a keen interest, noting the underlined Whisperwort and the corresponding marks on the map, though he can make no sense of the mad pattern they make. Shruggin,g he looks around the poor excuse for a hovel for any other clues to what is going on here. "I shall have to take your word on it Tinker," he says as he searches, his nonchalant nature showing no care for the dead outside. "Mayhaps this is some sort of ritual circle? checking the other crosses for more dead may be a good start, for it is clear some power intends to mess with this place."
Feeling more comfortable as his brother scrivates the wand to call forth translucent armour which shows briefly before vanishing from sight, Lucien falls in with Celestin and follows the town Constable, wondering how far they will go in their ruse. "Be careful Brother, I have misgivings about this." he whispers as they make their way from town to the rather oddly trussed up corpse. Standing over the body, hand on the hilt of his blade, Lucien chants in a powerful voice, his cantrip allowing him to pick out magical aura's or fading power in the area.
"So, who is this man?"
Finished with his punpkin, Lucien calls upon his training and utters a simple cantrip, cleaning the pumpkin innards from his arms with a chanted word, before turning to Celestin and giving him the same treatment. Seeing the children whispering to the priest, his eyes narrow in suspicion. This is where it begins. he thinks sourly as the Priest turns to them. "Just who has perished? And where were they found?"
He also hands Celestin a finely carved oak eand with golden sigils engraved upon it. "Protect yourself brother and then I."
Lucien nods at the Innkeeper when the wine is presented and takes a sip of the red liquid. Surprised at its quality he closes his eyes. How can I be surprised, this is likely 'liberated' from the cellar of their betters he has the restraint to think rather than say aloud. "If you say so brother, but remember, not all snakes have scales and crawl on their bellies." Making his way to the room to e shared with his brother, Lucien hangs up his travelling gear and after some though leaves his fine tailcoat hung on a hook so that he wears just his fine velvet trousers and thick cotton shirt with mother of pearl buttons. Listening to the Preacher's blessing he takes a look at the pumpkin and at the obvious mess it would make. "Preacher, your harvest festival, how did it come around? If you have time to share the history I know my brother will enjoy it." Looking to his brother's obvious glee and not willing to be scolded again he takes out his knife and begins to carve the Flag of Galt upon the Pumpkin's surface. When he has finished he uses a small charm to create his house's crest beneath the flag.
Making their way through the quiet village, Lucien is clearly on edge with his hand gripping the hilt of his sheathed blade. There could easily be dissenters in this place and whilst the Gray Gardeners have been lying low of late they always had spies. Keeping his brother within his eyeline to ensure he isn't ambushed he waits at the door of the Silver Fish for it to be opened, a natural reflex. Entering rhe bar, he looks around and immediately regrets the outdit he has chosen to wear. This smell will never leave me, the thought runs through his
"The festival, yes we are." he replies formally and a little stiffly. He decided to let someone else answer about the rooms, not sure he could be pleasant about them.
During the boat ride and after complaining about the conditions aboard, despite their actual state, Lucien seems mostly lost in thought. Each morning, he rises early to practice his sword forms on deck. Leaving the boat, he keeps one hand rested on his sword hilt as they make their way to the village. Stopping at the edge, he takes in his first real taste of a Galtan community, having been raised in the Graltan state of the River Kingdoms, a mere parody and haven for exiles. "So, this is home Brother." he remarks "How filthy." Turning to Voices he nods. "The largest building is like to be the Townhouse or the Inn. Either way will see ua information. We will have to secure losgings no doubt as I foresee us being here some time."
Lucien shrugs elegantly before getting to his feet, brushing down his fine suit and re-adjusting the blade at his hip. Satisfied he nods to the odd 'Voices' and waves to his brother. "I am ready, let us get his trap sprung hmm?" he says with a sigh, his next statement directed at Celestin. "Ready Brother dear? Home sweet home."
Lucien's eye twitches at the mention of the Gray Gardeners, but he quickly gathers his composure as he asks his next question. You say your hunch, have you wind of any Snake activity in our Homeland?" he asks, brushing a speck from the tails of his velvet coat. "Also, which festival are they celebrating? What does it entail?"
Leafing through the paperwork given to them whilst barely concealing their sneer at the noble turned servant, Lucien listens to the Venture Captain's briefing with interest. Satisfied that it is over, he speaks levelly and slowly, he too with a strong Galtan accent. "I would guess she is to slam the door in our faces after such treatment from former 'Allies'." he reasons as they discuss the potentials of the mission. "How will we know Mademoiselle Armeline? Also what is the current 'eb and flow' of the treacherous peasant folk?"
Ensuring to sweep the seat before sitting down at the Lodge, a well dressed Noble scans the room with his eyes. His garb is that of a Galtan noble, but is of an older style than is currently fashionable. His skin is a pale blue, denoting Outsider heritage with shock white hair. he wears no armour and carries a Dueling Sabre forged of Cold-Iron on his hip preferred by the Aldori Swordlords. "Lucien, Lucien Mainard" he answers with the habitual sneer of a highborn Scion. "I am a Spell-Sword trained in the Aldori style." |
