Old May 17, 2017, 09:48 PM   #1 (permalink)
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[Daltina] Dead or Alive! (Maeve)

Summer, Era XXIV Post Fractum

Lady Governor and Duchess Lindsay Genevieve Maeve was not an easy woman to move into a display of emotion. A free expression of feeling had hardly escaped her since the end of her childhood days, and only a single most trusted maid (trusted in part because she was mute) was allowed to see the Duchess without the heavy overlay of powder, rouge, and other fine cosmetics enhancing Lindsay's beauty into an implacable, aesthetically unimpeachable, mask.

Not even that heavy layer of cosmetic enhancement was able to hide the slight tinge of grey in the Duchess' complexion. The lit cigarette bent, crushed between her fingers as she stared at the hapless messenger before her. Without any of the painted refinements of the Duchess, his pallor was fully on display.

"I - I - that is - I know nothing else -" the man gibbered, eyes dancing from Lindsay to the two sabre-carrying guards standing on either side of her dais.

"Tell me again, in plain Common, what you saw." The Duchess cut him off quietly.

The man shrank in on himself, but obeyed: how he'd done his walk through the old Maeve graveyard as was his custom, morning and night, to make sure that everything was secure and in its place; how he'd just happened to pause before the doors of the Mausoleum upon hearing something that sounded like the rustling of a mouse; how that had drawn his concern, how he'd gone to his keys to open the lock, and then found the lock brocken...

"What else?" Asked the Duchess inexorably when the man once again paused.

There was nothing for it but to continue the tale: how he'd opened the great door and, peering in, found the lid of the glass coffin overturned and smashed on the floor, and when he'd looked - when he'd looked inside - he'd found nothing but a torn bit of white cloth and the late Duke's gold pocket watch.

His pocket watch! The gardener held the article in question up in one trembling hand: visible proof of an unfathomable tale.

The squeezed bit of cigarette dropped from the Duchess hand. "Send for Liliana." A pause. "And give this wretch his just deserts."

The two guards were only too happy to oblige.

Nevertheless, somehow or other, rumours that the Maeve Mausoleum had been broken into managed to spread their wings and fly not only through the village of Maeve but even beyond its borders by the time the Prefect, Countess Liliana Maeve, managed to arrive at her cousin's doorstep.

OOCI'll be shooting for weekly moderation (give or take) - if you miss two moderation rounds you'll be written out of the thread! Feel free to assume you've heard rumours of odd things going on; how your PC did so and how they got to Maeve is of course up to you
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Old May 17, 2017, 11:34 PM   #2 (permalink)
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Rumors of the mausoleum break in were difficult to ignore. Rosie tried. She really did. It wasn't any of her business. She was in port to pick up goods and ship off. The woman, sailor, pirate, smuggler, it didn't matter what moniker one chose to thrust upon her, she simply did not care about other people's problems. That was a trick of the trade. Don't ask questions. Do the job. Get paid. Soldier on.

But the rumors persisted.

"You should check it out," her First Mate's voice cut through her own introspective thoughts during a lull in their conversation. Her incredulous blue eyes cut to his. "The papers?"

He was right. Receiving a Letter of Marque would make things decidedly easier for her crew. They wouldn't have to worry about getting thrown into gaol when hitting port anymore. Or about an Imperial ship spotting their sails for what they really meant.

It wasn't like she hadn't been trying to sidle up to the nobles. She went to that one elf's birthday party after all. The mere fact that Rex Wagner had been there was hardly worth mentioning. People tended to act weird once they knew the person they were standing next to was a god. But she mentioned it to herself anyway. He was kind of a big deal.

With a great big roll of her eyes, Rosie Kyrillos found herself preparing for an adventure.

She wore her resplendent leather boots, black trousers, white billowy shirt, blah blah blah. Those details were just ridiculous. What really mattered was the dagger at the small of her back and the cutlass at her side. Who the feth cared if her blonde curls fell in perfect waves to the small of her back? Certainly not Rosie!

She already felt like an idiot on parade. She honestly didn't give two bowel movements about the mausoleum being burgled. Seriously. Not. Her. Problem. But her stupid fething First Mate kept whispering in her damn ear. He kept saying if the captain of the smuggling pirate ship got in good with the political types... well then they would be more inclined to ignore the goings on of the Impolite Dragon. That was enough to keep Rosie on her best behavior. At least for now.

She didn't really know where she was supposed to go. She stood awkwardly outside the grandiose manor. Her hands thrust into the air and then fell by her side. She kind of felt like an idiot. It wasn't the first time that feeling was thrust upon her. But whatever. She knew she wasn't stupid. She could finish whatever the feth this was. She'd make her crew proud to serve under her. Sure. Why not. It sounded as good a war pep talk as any. Except not.

It didn't matter.

She came upon the guards to the house of whatever that fething noble's name was. Her eyes flicked from the guards to the house that lay beyond, "Bonjour," she started brightly. "I am here to help with the most unfortunate happenings at the mausoleum."
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Last edited by Rosie Kyrillos; May 18, 2017 at 10:45 AM. Reason: I hate myself for this post.
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Old May 20, 2017, 12:20 PM   #3 (permalink)
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Adyn had already been in Daltina to begin with. A small stop from Port Alyxandrya, through the Khardran Pass, and up toward Prime. He still had old contacts and property in the capital, so business had brought him back and forth from time to time that season. Daltina was a decent go-between as the capital of the province, what with its high quality liquor and decent inns given its nobility-heavy population. He wasn't much for the parks or the architecture that the stuffy place seemed so famed for. Adyn just liked a nice rest and a good glass of wine before he continued on his way.

He had brought his armor, weapons, and whatever else, but he was dressed as a gentleman for Daltina. It earned him fewer odd glances to stroll through the city looking like a roughed-up mercenary. His hair was relatively smoothed and he had shaved only recently, a navy waistcoat buttoned over a crisp white shirt with the collar folded neatly at his neck. His gray slacks were pressed and tailored. At the small of his back a steel dagger was harnessed, and at his hip, a single shortsword. Somewhere within the confines of his inner pockets, too, were settled his usual lockpicks.

There were cigarettes in his vest pocket, one of which he was twirling, unlit, between his fingers as he lounged at a table in the inn. He had a glass of red wine held in his other hand, pale blue eyes tracing the patrons within view. He bobbed his head in feined interest at the gossip the server was regaling him with, until one particular detail caught him at last.

His eyes flickered back toward the server, and he asked for her to repeat that portion of her story. A missing lock, a missing body. A pocket watch? A glass coffin. He frowned, eyes distant for a moment as he turned the details in his mind.

Hhmm. It had been a long time since Adyn had gotten wind of a particularly interesting puzzle, and one that seemed more along his line of work, too. Breaking and entering, and at the expense of the Maeves? He wondered if the family would be seeking inside help or putting out a call for assistance. Perhaps they had by now.

He might be compelled to pursue such a lead. The Maeves weren't the worst sorts to do work for, he imagined. At least... not on the monetary side of things. He had time, as well, to be derailed from his original journey.

He thanked the server and paid for what they'd brought him. He'd have to keep an eye out in the meantime, see if the Maeves seemed receptive to visitors and volunteers.
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Old May 20, 2017, 08:58 PM   #4 (permalink)
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”You’ll practice patience this time, tiny Rauko. Stealth.” A lavender finger tapped the tiny thing on the bridge of it’s nose, to which the nimrban objected with a loud sniff. ”Lest we meet a second ill fortune, hm?” She smirked mildly as she considered this, as the odds of getting consumed by distraction so thoroughly that she end up surrounded by bandits a second time would be slim in Daltina. Things like that didn’t happen here, no. It was all rouge and posturing here. Daltina was vastly a city of powdered cheeks and polite tongues, or so that is what Liahal had been met with thus far. And while the city was a little more polished than it’s neighboring port to the west, Liahal had always found Port Alyxandrya’s patrons tipped better.

Nevertheless, if the people would not tip, Lia would find alternate methods for them to part with their coin. ”Stealth, my demon. Just as we practiced.” But the nimrban was perhaps just as furtive as she was well-mannered, which was to say, not at all. The Quel’anthasan had pulled her hair from her face in a loose bun, and after a second glance toward the inn room mirror they were set into the cobbled streets of the city.

The tavern that they had found was not far from the Quel’anthasan’s most favored sprawling park, and girl and beast would approach the bar rather uneventfully. ”A whiskey and a glass of your best red.” The words had left her mouth so many times before they were nearly automatic in process, and the woman would finish the routine with an unconscious rummage through her bag. She would not wear any weapons, that is, if you did not count the woman’s sharp mouth and wicked temper. She had pulled the stick of rapture from it’s place and rest it between lavender lips, as a second search for a means to light it consumed her. Rauko wriggled impatiently at her perch on the woman’s shoulder, but kept patient for the most part.

It was around this time that the woman would find herself actively listening to the hushed conversation beside her, as one did with hushed conversations.

"The Maeve Mausoleum….. says all was left was a bowler hat!"

”It wasn’t a bowler hat you twit!”

”And the Duke was gone….”

”Well it ain’t as if he just waltzed outta his glass coffin!”

The barkeep was setting the two glasses in front of her. ”Why would anyone want their dead in a glass coffin?” She passed him a divided expression, both curiosity and disgust passing her features in equal measure.
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Old May 25, 2017, 03:37 AM   #5 (permalink)
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Traveling for work had almost always been part of Kailin's reality, but for the second time in her life she found that she had a desperate urge to avoid Port Alyxandrya as much as possible. That this need coincided with her need to bolster and rebuild her family's business was simply fortunate timing, and so she had found herself in Daltina.

It was simple, really. While she had no wish to step on her aunt's toes, or - even worse - her cousin Kerric's, Daltina was the new capital of Maeve, and it was every bit as necessary for her to keep her finger on the pulse of their newly formed province as it was for her more politically active family members. She either did her homework herself or relied on whatever scraps of information Aunt Constance was willing to share with her, and Kailin had always been most comfortable when doing her own work.

Plus there was that strongest of urges, the one that was nearly undeniable for Kailin. Curiosity. Which, when she heard the rumors about what had happened at the Mausoleum in Maeve, also screamed Distraction. And distraction was a very, very good thing just now.

Ordinarily, she would have simply rented a horse for the short journey to the village of Maeve, but this was Maeve. And Kailin was, for better or worse, an Alyxanda. It might not mean much elsewhere, but here along the coast of what was once Enamoria, it was a name that carried with it certain expectations. Hiring a coach was easy enough, and maybe, just maybe, it would allow Kailin to still look presentable by the time she arrived. First impressions were not, she'd come to grudgingly accept, her strong suit.

The directions she gave to the coachman earned her a pair of raised brows and a more thoroughly appraising glance. Had her curiosity not been so strong - morbid though it was - it might have made her second-guess herself. As it was, Kailin was watching out the window as they rolled up to the graveyard in Maeve.

It struck her then, that perhaps this had been a foolish choice, and one not well thought out. The green of the grass, the line of headstones, and the grand structure of the Mausoleum all served to recall her to the exact thing she was trying so desperately to avoid. She slumped back in the carriage, and might well have balked at the entire endeavor if the driver had not opened the door.

"M'lady? Shall I, perhaps, take you somewhere else?" It was the concern in his voice, studied though it was, that pushed her back up and had her exiting the carriage with her back straight and her chin lifted. That concern, any concern, was yet another thing she wanted nothing to do with. She was fine.

Settling her features into the polite smile she'd been donning lately, she touched his shoulder as she passed, "Please wait here." Though she knew he would hardly be going anywhere else, what with her baggage stowed away inside until she could find suitable lodgings, if they turned out to be necessary. She would stay only if this mystery caught her interest.

To which end she now made her way toward the Mausoleum where the break-in had occurred. She had a curiosity to satisfy, and could only hope that it proved to be exactly the distraction she needed.
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Old May 27, 2017, 04:41 PM   #6 (permalink)

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oocSO SORRY

Iseult had heard the rumors. She would have cared very little about the missing dead body of the departed Duke Davon Maeve, except that the instructions for the creation of her coffin had been quite specific: create a coffin that prevented the body from being touched. Additionally, she had to hand it to whoever had the guts to put their hands on the glass in the first place: the whole of the coffin had been crafted with glass that was saturated with dark contamination, with mysticism and necromancy. Granted, once she'd fired up the glass and cooled it, the majority of the foul taint had dissipated. Now? It smelled foul, adding to that loveliness of the dead body that had been inside.

But what really infuriated her?

Iseult had done a lot to that glass when she'd been constructing the coffin: she'd thrown it at the wall, smacked it against the floor, she'd taken a hammer to it. She'd done a lot to try to break that glass. And...? Nothing. Not a scratch, not a chip, nothing.

So whoever had broken the coffin had been strong or capable or magic or something...and Iseult was pretty mad about the whole damned thing.

The whole thing. There was basically nothing that Iseult was not mad about in regards to hearing the rumors about the missing Maeve body from her gods-damned glass coffin.

So where did Iseult head? To the mausoleum itself. She had been in attendance at the time of the funeral. She knew where it was. She'd inspect for herself the circumstances surrounding the breaking of her coffin. Because, quite frankly, eff the missing the body.
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Old May 27, 2017, 09:24 PM   #7 (permalink)
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Rosie and Adynirach

Some psychologist somewhere would probably have had a field-day parsing the fact that it was the pirate and the thief who ended up in front of the gates of the Maeve estate. There was in fact a guard stationed there, and her billowy shirt didn't prevent him from giving her and her pants a once over. It was a rather cursory once over, however, though this doubtless had more to do with the current state of affairs inside the estate than any lack of attributes on Rosie's part: at the end of it the guard went back to looking rather harried.

"No! No entry!" He barked out almost before the pirate got through her request, not even bothering to really hear her out - it seemed she wasn't the first would-be adventurer to make the attempt.

Beyond the closed gates Rosie and Adynirach could see a flurry of activity round about the manor: a lady in the formal outfit of a prefect hastened out of the doors and hopped into a waiting carriage, her stride swift and angry. Another individual dressed in a dark suit and a few guards scurried out after her; the suit-guy appeared to be saying something, but the prefect dismissed him with wave of one hand from out the carriage window. He stepped back. The carriage swung about, heading for the gates, and the guard who'd just dismissed Rosie gave the lady-pirate a glare (as if to say: don't try anything!) before he got ready to open the gates for the running horses.

Liahal

The trelorean and her pet didn't make quite the stir they usually did in the tavern, and it didn't take long for Liahal to clue in why: the Maeve story was all anyone wanted to talk about, so much so that not even a lavender elf with an exotic "monkey" who ordered two drinks at once held anyone else's attention.

The barkeep placed the two glasses in front of her with a bit more force than necessary, glancing away from the trio conversing to Liahal's side - he'd been listening in as well. "The late Duchess, that's who. Kailfreet though, she was by birth - can't trust those Kailfreet's to keep the traditions." He took a good hard look at Liahal's hue, and felt the need to explain: "Burying the dead's been forbidden in Daltina for nigh on two hundred eras - that's what the Caretakers are for. They take away the bodies of the dead and burn 'em. Any real Maeve would have known better than to use a coffin at all."

"Yeah, but that's in Daltina, not Maeve." One of the men whose conversation Lia and the bartender had been listening in on felt the need to break in.

"So?" the barkeep shrugged: "Daltinian land. Native Daltinian Archduke, the gods rest his soul..." Everyone paused gravely at that, processing the fact that whatever was going on, the late Archduke was most definitely not getting his rest.

Kailin and Iseult

The lush canopy of the Maevewoods made its interior naturally rather dark and hushed, even at the very outskirts. The mausoleum for late Archduke Davon Maeve XVI had been erected not far from where the wood bordered on the wall that surrounded the Maeve estate.

While normally it would have been deserted, that was of course not the case now: a number of guards milled around it, all of whom drew up to attention as Kailin descended from her carriage and, along with Iseult, approached the mausoleum.

Iseult, at any rate, would have a mild shock at seeing the spot so differently appointed than what she'd seen during the funeral - none of the set up was there any more, or the altar for that matter. Even the fact that it was daylight rather than nighttime altered the effect.

The mausoleum itself was the same, however, albeit the doors currently stood open and the outlines of the coffin - her coffin! - could just be seen inside. It was too dark to see much else, however, or even to make out the extent of the damage. To do that she'd need to get up closer, and at the moment the guards were blocking both her and Kailin's way.

"Excuse me, miss - lady -" (the first to Iseult, the second to Kailin); "You cannot go any further. There is nothing to see here, please be on your way." His tone was polite, but iron.

But then...

"Ms Fluersdotter!". And Iseult, at least, would recognize none other than Maximilius Whitesmith, the Captain of the gate guards, who hastened toward her. The other guard turned in some surprise, but deferred to his superior. "What brings you here?" Maximilius asked with some surprise. He seemed to have aged considerably since Iseult had seen him last, new lines etched into his brow and his eyes somehow older, but he greeted her with the same cordiality as ever. Kailin received a puzzled glance, since at the moment it wasn't clear whether she was with Iseult or not.
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Old May 29, 2017, 11:32 AM   #8 (permalink)
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Maybe Adyn had consumed more wine than he thought he had. He wasn't sure what brought him right up to the Maeve's front doorstep. Maybe he had considered that was as good a place as any to start. Why hadn't he just looked for a job posting? A request for adventurers? A messenger, like the one for Varianus in Demios? Adyn didn't know.

Actually, Adyn didn't know a lot of things. For instance, he didn't know that Rosie would be there as well. Imagine the look of confusion on the man's face as he strolled up toward the gates, only to find the familiar blond getting eyeballed by the guard. The Sparkle in his mouth lolled as his lips quirked at the sight, and he found himself surrendering to the fact that he and Rosie would be running into each other quite a bit from this point forward. He might as well just consider it an inevitability.

"Tough egg to crack, is he?" the rogue observed as he came to stand beside Rosie, hands in pockets, just after the man had barked "No entry!" The announcement had left no room for argument. He arched a brow sidelong at his new companion.

"In Maeve, ma chère? Have you discovered a new hobby in politics?" The cigarette maneuvered from one side of his mouth to the other before he paused to take a drag. His eyes brushed over the scene ahead, at the suited man hurrying after the prefect, and then at the glare the guard shot to Rosie before the gates opened shortly afterwards.

He would never understand the importance these types put in corpses. Who in the feth would want the corpse anyway, and why had that drawn the attention of the prefect? Adyn would have simply burned the damned thing and been done with all this mess.

But oh well. Not like anyone could tell a Maeve what to do.

He stepped aside to let the carriage pass. He had no interest in trying to hail the thing down with how hurriedly it was passing. As if they would care to speak with him, anyway. No... his eyes were on the dark-suited man beyond, who he attempted to salute or wave should he look in their direction. If he was going to get through to anyone, that fellow seemed the more likely of all of them.
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Old May 29, 2017, 12:03 PM   #9 (permalink)
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The look the guard gave her did not go unnoticed. Her eyes widened and her hands went to her hips, waiting for some sort of reaction. She knew how ridiculous she sounded, but it wasn't like she could turn back time and simply not be there. In a drunken stupor she had plotted this course and now she had to see it through. The woman was just as displeased with the situation as the guard. She huffed when he barked at her, and rolled her eyes.

A small sound of fright escaped her lips as a voice came unbidden to her ears. Where the feth had he come from? Her shoremate had a disconcerting way of sneaking up on her. Without thinking on it, she slapped his arm. Now she knew why he hadn't promised to not make her scream again. Apparently it was all he ever wanted in his life. Such a strange man.

She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it between her own. It was kind of him to offer. "I don't know how many different ways to tell you, mon douce. My waters run deep." He wouldn't believe her if she told him her end game here anyway. It was better to keep it vague. At least then he had plausible deniability should anyone question him. The last thing she needed was her friend to learn the true nature of her business.

She wasn't about to comment on or ask why he was here. Perhaps he was hoping to steal some fine china from within. Where was his terrifying mask? Maybe he was simply scoping out the place. That was what thieves did, right? They planned before pillaging?

Her attention was torn from her companion when a flurry of activity sprang forth from behind the gates. Fancy people running around in their fancy clothes. She bit back a sneer. The prefect didn't bother to bite back hers and Rosie found herself softening to that. It was good to see a bit of fire.

Then the guard was glaring at her, so Rosie gifted him with an eager grin and stepped back placatingly so he could open the gates, while taking a drag from her new cigarette. What did he expect her to do? Run onto the premises? Jump onto the back of the carriage? Surely that would show the Maeves that they should accept her help.

She noticed Adyn's attention turn towards the suited man and determined that wasn't the worst idea. He seemed important enough. And the guard already had enough of her. It wasn't like she was going to get through to him. But a small salute and a wave? Please. As if that were going to get the suited man's attention.

The woman turned to the bars of the gate while holding her cigarette between two fingers and grasping the iron between her hands. "Yoo hoo! Monsieur!" she called out and pressed her cheek to the bars, smiling. "Could we speak with you a moment, s'il vous plaît?"
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Old June 2, 2017, 07:02 PM   #10 (permalink)
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Kailin's surprise at seeing Iseult as she descended from her carriage was obvious, and she made no effort to hide it as she turned her steps to take her toward the other woman. It was not because she wanted the company, for she found herself entirely out of the mood for small talk, which was often necessitated by interaction with acquaintances.

Then again, it was not every day that Kailin ran into someone who she had survivedHopefully! a revolution with in a random graveyard in the village of Maeve. So she let her steps take her closer, and yet kept enough distance between them that she did not encroach on the half-elf's space, thereby also protecting her own.

"Serale," perhaps it was a perfunctory greeting, but Kailin couldn't find it in herself to say more in the face of the anger she saw pinching the Iseult's features, though she did manage a nod, and she thought her lips curled into a mild smile. There was little time to talk, anyway, before they reached the press of guards that held court around the mausoleum that was - unsurprisingly - the center of everyone's attention, and Kailin found herself grateful for the halt that was called, making small talk impossible.

In fact, she simply stood near Iseult as they were rebuffed, her eyes trying to sneak glances past the bodies before her. It was times like these when she was grateful for her height, as it gave her a better vantage than most. At the greeting that was called to her not-quite-companion, however, she turned her head first to appraise Iseult again, something falling into place in her mind with an almost physical click.

She smiled, a real smile this time, as she realized that this half-elf was the famous glassblower. And the duke had vanished from his glass coffin. And she was recognized by the guard here. Interesting. Likely not a coincidence, then, that Iseult was here, and no wonder if the female looked so angry.

These deductions took only a moment, before Kailin turned the other way to watch the approach of the older guard who had spoken Iseult's name, giving him a polite smile and inclining her head when he looked to her with curiosity.

"I would like to help, however I am able," she said in a quick, quiet murmur to Iseult before falling silent to allow the other to answer the guard's question.

Then she simply waited to see how this might unfold.
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Old June 4, 2017, 12:25 AM   #11 (permalink)
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The glasses thudded against the bartop a little more aggressively than was perhaps necessary, the Quel’anthasan responding with a quirk of her brow. Was this man so put off about doing his job that he would respond with petty acts of passive aggression? Had Lia inconvenienced him so? The woman’s lips parted to spit something mouthy at him, but he answered her question and suddenly Liahal had forgotten what she had been irked about all together.

Her next question was perhaps, expected. ”Why?” It was her favorite word. ”What happened two hundred eras ago?” Surely silly traditions such as this resulted from some sort of incident, right? Like handshakes. What made humans inclined to squeeze hands as they did? The barkeep was talking about caretakers now but Liahal’s face had become twisted by the thought, not from burning the dead but from the fact that you just never knew what those people had been touching before they went ahead and squeezed your hand.

The conversation turned solemn after barkeep and patron stopped bickering, and there was a long pause. Eyes averted, bodies shifted uncomfortably. And Lia still couldn’t find her fething matches. She was practically elbow deep in her bag when she spoke next. ”They sure he was dead to begin with?” It was a joke, obviously. Maybe not one of Liahal’s most tasteful quips, but the Quel’anthasan wasn’t known for her gold-star behavior either.

Attention back to the bartender, the stick of rapture hanging from her lips. ”Match?”
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Old June 10, 2017, 07:33 AM   #12 (permalink)

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The man stepped in front of her, unsurprisingly, and Iseult tilted her chin up as he addressed her...and the other one that was there, some woman that Iseult wasn't associated with but apparently was now being tied up with, given their proximity. Her brows furrowed for a moment and she started to say something only to have Captain Whitesmith materialize out of nowhere.

There had been a time when she'd found Whitesmith easy to talk with, someone somewhat likeminded in that his career was everything to him. Things had frosted a little at the end but that was as it was; relations with Iseult seemed to seldom stay warm. Life.

Her eyes swung towards the other woman as she murmured to the glassblower, registering for the first time that she was someone familiar to the half-breed. She could place her with the circumstances and the place but as to how she felt about the woman standing alongside of her, being nosey and trying to 'help' with something that Iseult felt to be fairly personal.... Well...

She said nothing in response to the woman and instead turned her attention to Whitesmith.

"Captain Whitesmith, serale." Was she surprised to find him there? She supposed to depended on what capacity he was there in. "I'd heard about the coffin. I'd heard that it was...broken." Her brows arched a little as she shifted, trying to look past him a bit. "I came to have a look at it."

Because she cared more about the coffin and its broken lid than anything else.
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Old June 11, 2017, 08:19 PM   #13 (permalink)
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Adyn and Rosie

The gates swung open and the carriage clattered through them almost without slowing down at all. The guard at the gate had to jump aside lest he be bowdlerized by the horses. If they cared to, the two adventurers could get a (very) brief glimpse of the prefect inside - gaunt, very obviously half-elven features set into a stony cast - before the carriage flew by with a loud clatter and a whirl of dust.

The gate guard got a mouthful and hacked even as he began to shut the gates.

But... as the dust settled, the presence of Adyn and Rosie didn't go unnoticed either - certainly not after Rosie's shouting. The gaze of the suited man swung to them, and a worried frown creased his features. He approached, and the gate guard let the gate stay open (with marked and implicit obedience to the unspoken will of his superior - whoever this was, he too commanded instant respect among the household staff).

"Who are you?" The man asked peremptorily, getting right down to business. "What are you looking for here? The Duchess is not open to visitations today."

Lia

At Lia's initial question the talk in the bar ceased for a pregnant second and all eyes turned to the barkeep - who harrumphed, but accepted the implied delegation of duty. "Those were dark times - for the city, and the Empire. No law, no order, a plague of necromancers running around.."

("-kidnapped the Archprelatess," noted one of the patrons, as another pipped in: "assassinated the good Empress!")

"Naw, they just tried to," the barkeep corrected the later assertion, before turning back to Lia: "And, of course, they try and take Daltina, too." Everyone nodded sagely: obviously, if one wished to destabilize the Empire, one started with Daltina. "They roused all the dead - young and old, men and womenfolk, poor tortured souls."

If the Trelorean had known her Aelyrean history, should would have been able to a few holes in the barkeeper's story. As it was, it appeared that the rest of the audience had slept through that particular lesson(s) in Schola, because the narrative went entirely uncontested.

"Maybe it's one of 'em necros coming back to finish the deed," added in another voice, and Lia's second question - or quip - got lost in the shuffling and muttering that ensued. "Everyone knows it's them darkies that did it, and wasn't it one of 'em that massacred the Maeves - Ketri, Kitrivi-something," the man attempted to come up with the name and, failing that, went on to the important bit: "fethin' darkie."

All eyes somehow turned to Lia who, while clearly not a dark elf, nevertheless was an elf and was also not a "normal" (that is, Medonian) elf, at that.

So, with that going on and the air around her turning distinctly suspicious, Lia definitely did not get her match, either: because who knew, maybe she wanted to set fire to the city with it?

Kailin and Iseult

Consternation showed on the Captain's features as he appeared to process the fact that Iseult... and the coffin... right. She was here for the coffin - an object that, quite evidently, nobody else had given a hoot about (once they'd all realized that the occupant of said coffin had vanished). "Ah. Right." Was all he said, therefore, and perhaps it was mostly that consternation - the fact that he hadn't given even a passing thought to the status of an object whose lengthy crafting he'd been privy to and whose extremely disconcerting qualities he had, in one fashion or another, known - that made him continue with: "It's this way."

And he waved her - them - over to the mausoleum. "You will need a light..." The look on the doors had definitely been forced open; that much was clear.

Inside, once Whitesmith had shuffled around and withdrawn and lighted a small lantern, Iseult and Kailin saw the coffin in it's rightful place in the centre of the mausoleum. The lid had been shifted over, though, and the top section had broken off and now lay, tipped over, on the floor. The odd shard of glass glinted and crunched underfoot.

Where the underside of the lid of the portion that had broken off and fallen over was exposed, the two women could just make out a fine webbing of lines running up and down it - some were breaks in the glass from when it had shattered and hit the floor, but others were different: like someone had taken the edge of something sharp to the glass.... on the inside.
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Old June 18, 2017, 12:14 PM   #14 (permalink)
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Adyn's eyes briefly swept over the prefect's face as the carriage whipped past, even as he continued to step aside from the dust that threatened to overcome him and his nicer clothing. He paused his puffing on the cigarette so that he wouldn't inhale the stale and dirty air left in the wake of the departure.

The rogue's casual mien continued even as Rosie began to shout, pale eyes watching as the suited man's gaze swiveled in their direction. He took another drag at last as he stepped forward to meet the other man's approach, noting as the guard and his gate remained at the beck and call of this unknown employee of the Maeves.

"Why, we're answering the call for assistance," was Adyn's response. He, too, was a man who preferred to skip the pleasantries and get right down to business. "You don't remember?"

He exhaled, pulling the cigarette from his mouth before turning his head to guide the smoke away from the suited man's - and Rosie's - faces. When he turned back he said, "You have lost something, Monsieur, and it just so happens that we are particularly well versed in finding lost things. I would say discreetly, but, well..." His gaze swept over himself and then over Rosie before settling back on the man before him. "I'm certain we're not the first to have heard the news by now." More would come, of that Adyn was fairly certain.

"As for the Duchess, mayhaps it's only you we have to see in regards to that?" A brow cocked at the man in question. "But pardon - Adynirach Thorne, from Port Alyxandrya." He gestured, then, to Rosie, an invitation for her to announce herself however she saw fit. Adyn meant to be liberal with his own name just then, but understood that his companion might not wish to be so.
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Old June 18, 2017, 01:39 PM   #15 (permalink)
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She couldn't help the snort of amusement that emanated from her as the gate guard was covered in dust. Though her glee was short-lived as her own body was enveloped. So her giggle turned into a sputter as she waved at the air in front of her in an effort to protect herself. "Bleck," she spit at the ground as she swiped at her clothing. Her immaculate white shirt had a distinctly brown tinge to it now. That was annoying.

She wanted to take a puff of the cigarette she had stolen, but somehow it had ended up back between Adyn's fingers. Was there no end to the impudence of today? She gave an exaggerated sigh and resigned herself to waiting for suit man to grace them with his presence.

As the man approached, Rosie trained her face into some semblance of serious business. Her mouth opened to answer the man, but what came forth was her companion's voice. Her jaw clamped shut as she allowed him to take the lead. He had more experience in this sort thing anyway, certainly. Probably.

She nodded solemnly at all the correct moments, and bit the insides of her cheeks to keep her mutinous mouth from overspilling with words that would ruin everything Adyn was attempting to blag.

When it seemed it was her turn to speak, she flashed suit man a prize-winning smile and brought her hand to where her hat would have been had she been wearing one. She tipped the imaginary thing in his direction and spoke smoothly, "Capitaine Rosie Kyrillos." She could have went on and made up some very interesting titles that might have included something about how brave and valiant she was, but Adyn hadn't gone through the trouble, and it might have seemed strange if she had.

In true Rosie fashion however, where silence should have prevailed and the pair of dashing would-be heroes waited for a response, her voice lilted into the air. "You would be doing this household a great disservice should you send us away, monsieur costume chic," she warned. "Truly you won't find a pair better suited for your needs."
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