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David rather distrusts magic, especially after Nathaniel's last spell. "Make sure that when he says to take a step back, that he really means to call the Fire Department ahead of time because he plans on blowing up the whole block..." Nathanial glares at David before continuing. "I can handle the ritual by myself. I just need you to gather supplies. I need a glass mirror, a granite pestle..."
Back at the van... Emily will look to Nathanial and ask, "I am not knowledgeable on the magic stuff, but the link you have from the hair, it does not last long does it? Should we try to find who it belongs to, and then attempt to find the driver when he gets off in the morning?" She looks to the rest of the group for the last query. "It might last another day, but yes. It would be in our best interests to divine the source of the hair now, rather than later." "Of course, I don't really need any of your help for this. If you wish to question the driver tonight, just drop me off at my apartment first."
After quickly skimming through her book and gives a sigh before puting it away for now. "Nothing stands out on this White Court thing. I suppose I will look later when I have time." "It has nothing on one of the major vampiric courts? I'd suggest getting a different book." "The White Court vampires feed on emotion, not blood. Usually pleasure, but sometimes pain and the like. Hence why the people who head upstairs come back down looking so... drained. They were, just not in a pphysical sense." She looks to Nathanial, "Do we want to meet the woman?" She shurgs, "I mean, will she have anything useful for us?" "It would give us the identity of whoever had the fork. Probably more reliable than tracking down her driver, and definitely faster."
"The bartender also mentioned a 'Mistress' that we might want to look into." "Presumably he meant the proprietress of this fine establishment. I'd suggest arraigning a meeting while we're in the neighborhood."
David politely thanks the bartender for his assistance and heads over to Nathaniel. "Dr. Halsey, I believe we may have a lead on the Heretic's Fork, but I think the bartender might need some financial encouragement. Monoc can recoup any costs, but I need cash. I don't have any, as I really haven't gotten any idea what the exchange rate is. For the life o' me, I can't understand why the whole word ain't using U.S. dollars." Nathanial shakes his head. "We can discuss monetary systems later. For now, we have questions to have answered." Nathanial hands over a wad of money before following Monroe back to the bar.
"This is White Court territory. Be careful." After that quick warning, Nathanial splits off from the group, keeping an eye out for any mystical threats.
Nathanial follows closely behind Danny, trying his hardest to look like he belongs there and not like a crazy person who would rather not be in a den of pain. Even as he walks up, he still scans the club for any sort of mystic danger.
"That was too much fun." For his part, Nathanial just holds his coat tight around him. "We could have died if the wolves were a hair less precise. If you call that a good time, I don't want to see a bad day." "Axemeus is right about the Dunn Bull. Most magicians consider the tale symbolic of the fighting between the Winter and Summer Courts. Some say that the Dunn Bull's devouring of it's rival represents a major shift of power between the two courts. This shift is typically placed around the end of the Ice Age. If the Winter Court has found a lead to shifting power in their favor, well, things are going to get much colder." "Yes, let's investigate this club. The hair will be safe for a while longer, at least."
For his part, Nathanial continues to force his way through the fog, a bubble of force surrounding him. This place was becoming a death trap. He leaves now, or he doesn't leave at all. If the others don't get out, too bad for them.
Nathanial stiffens along with the crowd. The tension was thick enough to cut it with a knife. This whole place could erupt into violence at any moment. It wasn't safe here, not anymore. They found some information, now they need to leave while they still can. Of course, Aximeus' sudden entrance didn't help his nerves any. Suddenly Nathanial is on his feet, coat clutched tight around him. "Everyone! In light of recent events-" His gaze lingers on Aximeus. "-I am taking my leave. I suggest you all do the same." And with that last declaration to the assembled fey, Nathanial heads for the door.
Nathanial silently follows the rest of the group in. He doubts he will be unwelcome here, but better to fade into the background than to make your presence known.
"We should assume these two attacks are unrelated until proven otherwise. We don't want to muddle around finding connections where there are none." "I vote that we talk to these trolls. We already have a lead to the necromancer as long as the hair's sympathetic connection keeps. We have nothing for the fae's role in all this." "Oh, I think I've figured out why the jars were stolen. In order to reanimate a body, you need to insert a spirit into the body that then controls it. Normally, you just have the body there and you insert it directly. But, if you have a suitably strong sympathetic connection to the corpse, you could send the possessing spirit along that. Four ritualistically-preserved essential organs would definitely provide a suitable link, especially if they've been building up mystic significance by having hundreds of people view them each day. You can connect the dots yourself, I assume."
Nathanial checks his pockets one last time. Ritual knife: check. Focusing watch: check. $40, distributed over several different pockets: check. Spare bottle of pills: check. Multitool: check. Flashlight: check. Small roll of tape: check. There. He should be prepared for any minor problems he might come across. With that, he sets off to meet with Danny.
Nathanial enters the restaurant and takes a seat next to Danny. "Good afternoon, Danny." He waves over the waitress and orders a bowl of noodles. "Do you have any leads?"
Sitting within the others she sips her drink and asks Nathanial,"Can you track the owner of the hair that Monroe found at the Egyptian exhibit?" "Yes, I can. It's one of the simpler examples of thaumaturgy, to be honest. I should have enough time to look into the history of the stolen items as well."
"That was... larger than I expected." Nathanial quietly returns his knife to his jacket pocket. He glares at Nathanial. "A little more specific next time. That was like saying that gettin' Tased stings a little." "I admit it, I made a mistake. I assumed whatever trap was left behind would be more precise when all evidence points towards the necromancer being willing to kill bystanders for a distraction. But it's too late to change what already happened, and any pain should subside in a few minutes. We all survived, and that's enough for me."
Nathanial throws his arms up and conjures a shield between him and the spirits. The rest of the group don't even cross his mind.
"It's a ritual tool, nothing more." Nathanial readies himself. "Also, who knows what countermeasures were woven into this illusion? Precautions are necessary." Then he focuses on the illusion and cuts...
"Illusion eh; really, Mothers Blessing, how can you tell?" "For one, the wire wouldn't be piercing the jar so easily if there was any actual mass there. Now, if there are no objections, I'll dispel this now." Nathanial draws a small knife from his jacket and stares intently at the jars.
She looks about commenting, "This Egyptian stuff is popular amongst the Necromancer crowd." "Quite. Many necromantic rituals require dead flesh, and since these jars contained the organs of a millennia-old priest... Well, I doubt I need to elaborate further." Nathanial steps away from the case. "Those jars are only an illusion, by the way. The necromancer must have left them there so no one would notice that they're missing. I can unravel the illusions now, if you would just step back." They don't need to know that they will likely blow up in his face if he makes a wrong move. Not yet.
"I can certainly try." Nathanial steps up to the case and examines the jars more closely.
"These dead guys like; any idea about them; they didnt seem; uhm...vengeful like dead that came back sent by a God for vengence, more like; hyper robots in flesh form, they didnt seem like they had a goal; more like there were a distraction." "Agreed. Any necromancer with enough talent to control five jiang shi would have more precise ways to kill their enemies. More effective, too." Nathanial finally notices David and Emily walking towards the Egypt exhibit and begins following them. After all, they're still strangers and, although Danny seems to trust them, Danny still isn't the best judge of character.
The woman moves from the shadowy alcove as the group seems to be forming up and steps towards them, "Good evening Mr. Monroe, Mr. Kaye, nice to see you again." She will nod towards Deirdre, "Miss Harlowe." Nathanial quickly swivels to face the newcomer, ready to unleash a barrage of spells if necessary. "Who are you and why are you here?" Until she proves otherwise, he will have to assume she is involved with tonight's thefts. Anything else would just be foolish.
Nathanial shudders and turns back to the rest of the group. "The puppeteer has long since cut the strings. I may be able to identify the caster if I see him again, but that is no certainty. So, have the rest of you found anything?"
Nathanial's mind seizes up. He could feel their eyes focusing on him, could hear the whistling of the empty void between worlds. He needed to get out of here, before they found hi- No. He can't let himself get panicked. That would send the carefully-constructed house of cards that is his psyche crashing down, and then another trip to the asylum. There's no time for that, not with everything on the line. Still, he needed to close off the Sight now, before it was too late. Even if they haven't seen him yet, it's only a matter of time...
No, he must look away. He has gazed into the abyss and turned away, he can turn away from this.
This was good, but it wasn't enough. He still couldn't tell what the tortured forms meant. Were they a sign of whoever hexed the lights, residual resonance from tonight's exhibits, or just a sign that the museum has spirits bound within it? He needed to know more.
"There are at least three groups involved with tonight's attack: the fey, the jiang-shi, and whoever hexed the lights. The hexer could be connected to the other groups, but we can't be sure yet. If you'd excuse me, I need to investigate here while I still can." With that, Nathanial carefully steps out of the kitchen and sees the residual magic in the air.
"First off, I need to get back in there to find out who hexed the lights. Second, at worst three separate groups attacked the Museum: the undead and whoever was controlling them, the fey, and whoever hexed the lights. If we're lucky, they're all part of one single conspiracy. At worst, we're going to have to stop three plots before they can enact their plans. Either way, we're going to need more people." "Wait, isn't that Danny over there, talking to that sheriff from earlier?" Nathanial waves and yells over to them. "Danny! Monroe! We need to talk!"
Meanwhile, Nathanial waits under a streetlamp for someone to show up. Whatever's happening here is too big for him to deal with by himself, that much is certain. Someone sent in a squad of jiang-shi, most likely as a distraction. They could be related to the fey presence tonight, but necromancy generally isn't the Winter Court's style. At the very least, undeath is in the gray area between the two court's purviews and not truly open to either. Someone also hexed the lights. That is most likely connected to one of the two other attacks, but there's no way to be certain. At best, there's an overarching plot behind all this. At worst, three separate groups came in and did... something. He'd have to take a closer look around the museum to make sure. And in order to get back into the museum, he needed to get in contact with Conan again. And to get in contact with Conan, he's waiting in the cold for him to come out. If anyone else comes up, well, he's going to need all the help he can get soon enough...
Nathanial frowns. How is it still standing? Conan eliminated one in a single spell, so can he. With a wave of his hand, he sends another dozen slicing planes at the jiang shi.
"Someone's hexed the lights!", Nathanial yells back to Conan before refocusing on the remaining jiang-shi. A single plane of force could cut through anything, if enough force is put behind it. The only real limiting factor for the damage caused is the caster's aim. Bring about a thousand planes of force, all focused on a single target, and destruction is all but certain. If it wasn't for the thin cuts opening up on himself too, this would be downright unfair.
"Nathaniel, how quickly do you think you could get a ward up to contain the band members long enough for the water to do its job?" "Under optimal conditions? A few minutes. Here, now? Far too long." Nathanial begins readying another spell when the lights blow out.
Nathanial stares out into the fray, watching the destruction unfold. Aximeus is here for some reason, but he will be good to have in the fight. Danny was being as flippant as always, and Conan triggered the sprinkler system. The pair from earlier was nowhere to be seen. However now was not the time to think of such things. Now, he had a disaster to avert. One of the jiang-shi feels itself held back bodily, as if it was in the grip of some unseen giant. If it could turn it's head, it would see a familiar man raising one arm, his left hand grasping thin air as his right reaches into his jacket and retrieves a small knife. The man it mistook for one of it's own has entered the fray.
The total cost in mental stress is 3.
"Well, when you put it that way it does sound rather foolish." "He is a better actor than either of us. Besides, it's safer to have him with us than it is to have him blunder into it like he usually does. So, do you want to ask him for help or should I?"
Doctor Carding: Nothing I can think of. There was my costume, but the most they left on it was the lingering smell of death. Otherwise, we might be able to sneak beneath the stage and use the always-convenient symbolic link of "can be seen through the cracks in the floorboards". Or we could just try sneaking up to them and getting something from them. I don't know, you tell them you need their signature on something and there, instant symbolic link.
"We need to know more in order to stop them. Nathaniel, where did you ditch that costume?" "I left it in a trash can backstage. It should still be there, I doubt they emptied it yet." "Now, don't think I'll let you go out there looking by yourself. Far too dangerous. I'll go with you. Danny, be careful until we get back."
"There are trolls involved too? I suppose it was too much to hope the lesser fey were only attracted to the bright lights. So, we all agree that something will happen tonight. The question is, what are we going to do to stop it?"
Nathanial takes a seat. "I was dressed as the Masque of The Red Death, but the band mistook me for one of their members and dragged me along. Which is why I know that they're jiang shi. Hopping corpses. The living dead that devour other's life force to maintain their own. I lost my costume so they wouldn't recognize me." "Good to see you're as witty as ever, Danny. Haven't been introduced to the two of you, though. I'm Nathanial Halsey."
Nathanial slips into the ballroom and begins scanning the crowd. Conan has to be here somewhere, his mother organized this masquerade. But how can he pick one costumed man out of a crowd this size? Wait, is that him? It could be. Nathanial begins politely forcing his way though the crowd. "Pardon me." A disheveled man in a suit steps up to the table and turns to the strangers. "I apologize for the interruption, but this is important." He then turns back to Dr Carding. "Conan, what do you know about this band?"
Once he's out of sight and far away from the band, Nathanial rips off his cloak and mask and tosses them into a trash can. He can afford to replace the mask, if he desperately needs one. He can't afford to be recognized by the band. Now, he just has to get into the ballroom.
Silhouettes, likely band members moving into their area behind a white curtain, can be seen by the diners. Likely, the screen will later be used to project images upon to hide the band as they play. It's now or never. Nathanial can barely play an instrument, let alone play whatever they're going to play. Besides, he needs to be able to stop whatever they're planning. He can't do that if he's standing right next to them pretending to play the drums. So, a simple plan. First, get away from the band. Second, discard the costume. With any luck they won't realize that he's the same person. Third, get to the party and find Conan. He will believe him. Too many ways this plan could go wrong, but he doesn't have time to come up with anything better. Nathanial nudges his stool slightly. "This stool is too shaky. Excuse me for a moment, I'll go find another one." It's a horrible lie, but hopefully one that they'll believe. For now, Nathanial calmly walks backstage until he finds a place he could dump his mask and cloak privately.
Nathanial continues to follow the band, even though he should be fleeing the scene as fast as possible. The band was something not quite human, the exhibits have attracted fey attention, and the exhibits themselves resonate with death and pain too fiercely to even think of looking at them under the Sight. Things were going to go south soon, one way or another. He needed to get away from the band soon, that much was certain. But he had to know what they were before that. Knowledge is power, and he needs all the power he can get for tonight.
Glad that he's getting in at all, Nathanial tries his best not to eye his benefactor suspiciously. He should be able to recognize his companion's costumes, shouldn't he?
Nathanial was going to go to that lecture, that much was certain. His lack of invitation would be no barrier. It would be somewhat risky, crashing the Museum's party, but the lecture by Professor Gunther would make it worthwhile. It would make a good break from his other research, at the least. The costume was the easiest part. He already owned the suit, and the rest of the outfit was easy enough to buy. Black cloth to use as a shroud, a skull mask and red paint were all he really needed. If he was going to crash a masquerade, why go as anything but the most famous literary party crasher?
Costume:
The Masque of The Red Death, if it wasn't clear. Paint some red on the mask to make the reference clear, wear the shroud to keep the mask from looking too silly, wear the suit because it's a formal occasion and it wears funeral garb. If he had any doubts, it was far too late to express them now. He was already entering the museum, his knife held securely beneath his jacket. He approached the ticket taker and began searching his pockets. "Damn, I must have left my invitation back home. Too far away to run back and get back here before the presentation. Would you mind if I just went in?"
Sorry for the wait for writing my guest star in divineshadow's story. I just had a bit of trouble coming up with an aspect. Nathanial Halsey in My Father's Hammer It was a simple plan; cross over into the NeverNever, collect the data, and leave the way he came. He wasn't going to deviate from the plan just because he found some guy trying to fight an ogre by himself. No reason for both of them to get flattened. But when he passed by again, he saw something shocking: the man won. He wasn't in good shape, but it was amazing enough that he survived. So, out of respect for the man's accomplishment, Nathanial helps drag the man back to a hospital.
This would make the timeline of the fight this: Spoiler:
1. Fight starts
2. Nathanial sees fight, decides to stay uninvolved, leaves 3. Conan gets involved, helps divineshadow win fight 4. Nathanial comes back, sees that divineshadow won, decides to help him out. Yeah. Like I said, it took a while to come up with the aspect. To clarify, I meant that he respects few things more than the ability to have the worst things happen to you and get back up. Fortitude would be the virtue he admires the most, if you go by White Wolf's definition of the virtues. I'd come up with a few examples of how this could be used, but this post is long enough already.
Let's see, there's
So, seven aspects. Your job would probably be covered by Forgotten Arcane Linguist if it becomes plot-important at some point. Other than that, I don't know, write up some background stuff about your house/hobbies/etc so the information's there even if it isn't going to be important to the story?
Finally wrote something for my guest star in Torolf's story. Spoiler:
When Conan didn't show up at the library, Nathanial was worried. When he didn't answer his phone, he decided to find out what happened the mystic way. A few rituals later, he found out Conan was being held in Chinatown. A few rituals more, and he was ready to break him out...
Aspect: Only Rivals In The Library I meant for the Aspect to show that he considers Conan both as a rival and a friend. We'll see whether I succeeded. Also, I wrote my guest star in divineshadow's story too, and I'll post it once I figure out an aspect to go with it. EDIT: Oh, and Rags? You missed your surprise round action over in Sleeper in the Tomb of Dreams. |
