[Libertas Sentinel] Press forgotten? (Pierrot)

[Viniece]

Tenth Candlemark ofSolaria
Brightening 1, Second Cycle of Ponutis
Winter of Era I of the Celestine Mandate
Era XV Post Fractum
Chronosynch: Ancient Veil Enshrouds Silrosia

Viniece groaned as he got himself out of bed. He hurt. Everywhere. Still. It'd been a little while since his adventures in Nimaltown and then the weird events at the Wall of Weeping, but still, he hurt. He needed to get moving though, he only had a week and a half left for staying in the inn and he needed somewhere else to stay. As well... he should be spreading his knowledge. One doesn't know that all is doomed and then keep it to themselves. He moved on out and started walking southwest, he was going to find out more about that seemingly abandoned Press House today, he decided. If it was indeed abandoned, he'd take it over, if not, maybe he could request being able to do a column.


When he reached the place, it was still just as abandoned and run-down looking as the first time he'd seen it. Why would the city stop producing a paper? Why would the press lock themselves up and forget the key? He really didn't understand, it was just another sign of the Doom. Deciding that no one would even be paying attention to him anyways, he started in a circle around the structure, investigating every unusual thing he saw along the structure. After he'd done a full circuit, he decided to try the doors.

[Seregon]

As Viniece made his way up the steep stone steps, which lead to a heavy looking door set inside a small alcove on the front of the building, a brisk, somewhat salty smelling wind whipped around the corner. The powerful gust nearly sent the sea elf soaring off the stoop; however, he had just enough strength in his sore body to lunge for the brass doorknob, clutch it firmly in his hand, and immediately twist it with the hope that it was not barred or locked. Thankfully it was neither.

Practically stumbling into the main hall, a second gust of wind took it upon itself to slam the door shut for Viniece, who was inside just far enough so as not to be clipped by the heavy mass. Swiftly attempting to take in his surroundings, which was illuminated by two simple candelabras mounted to the wall, it was the horrific scent of mildew that overtook his senses first. As his eyes adjusted to the cool, shadow-filled chamber, he could now see a door to his right, as well as a narrow corridor leading off toward the back of the building.

Testing the door only resulted in discovering that it was firmly locked. Heading down the corridor, Viniece soon found himself standing at the foot of a rickety, winding stair, which soared up into an even dimmer looking chamber. With the boards of the stair soon moaning and groaning with every step he took, the sea elf felt utterly compelled to see his visit through to its end. The lit candles in the hall below implied that someone was here…but who?

It was not until he reached the top of the stair that Viniece began to hear the muttering – or was it ranting - of someone within a room located on the floor laid out before him. Advancing along the hallway that mirrored the one below, and now took him back toward the front of the building, the sea elf was soon standing just outside a slightly ajar door, the very one, it seemed, that the muttering voice, a distinctly male voice, was emanating from.

“Jamie! Non! What are you doing? The paper goes in this way, not that way! You fool! Louis, my boy, please, for the love of all that is good in this life, help your stupid, stupid apprentice out! She is far from capable of doing it right on her own. And you! Claire! I am speaking to you! Get away from that stove and get back to work! Why I ever hired you is beyond my comprehension! Stupid, all of you! We will never have this edition done in time! Never! The three of you better have this set right by the time I return! Do you understand me?”

“Oui, Monsieur Blanc!” three voices called out in unison.

At this point, Viniece only heard – still unable to clearly see the occupants of the room - the swift shuffling of feet as, most likely, Louis did as he was told and rushed to help his apprentice Jamie with whatever she was doing wrong, and Claire quickly got herself back to work, doing whatever it was that she was suppose to be doing instead of tending to the stove. However, soon enough, the door to the room was flying wide open and there, standing before the sea elf, was a red-faced, thickly bearded, heavy breathing, absolutely rotund dwarf who, somewhat surprisingly, was dressed rather well for an individual who worked in such a rundown establishment.

“Gah!” the dwarf bellowed, staggering back a bit, clearly not expecting anyone to be standing on the other side of the door. “What is this? Non! I mean…who is this? Are you one of Louis’ ‘odd’ friends? Because if you are, you can turn right around and get your overly exposed personage out of here right this very minute! I will not tolerate your kind in my office! I will not! Louis! LOUIS! Get over here right now and remove this individual before I do it myself!”

[Viniece]

“What is this? Non! I mean…who is this? Are you one of Louis’ ‘odd’ friends? Because if you are, you can turn right around and get your overly exposed personage out of here right this very minute! I will not tolerate your kind in my office! I will not! Louis! LOUIS! Get over here right now and remove this individual before I do it myself!”

Viniece found himself rather confused over the rather colorful dwarf, especially considering how quickly the man bellowed words out! After thinking about what the man said, Viniece spoke, hoping he'd understood correctly.

“New town... Not Louis friend. Was curious. Rundown, no press. Wind blew. Couldn't leave.” He said, then added hesitantly: “Why no press?”

He really was curious why the paper hadn't been running, and especially curious about this dwarf who seemed to run the place. He obviously had enough money to do well himself, why didn't he take better care of his press?

Without thinking, Viniece muttered in Nimalni, “By Orod's Reason, as though your Office was actually any good.” Most likely the dwarf didn't understand any Nimalni, but the fact that the dwarf might have known Nimalni didn't even enter Viniece's thoughts.

[Seregon]

"Why no press? My silly, half-naked boy, there is most certainly a press here! See," the dwarf stepped aside at this point and motioned to it with his chubby, ring laden hand.

And there it sat, beyond the open door, dominating nearly a third of the room. It was a massive, marvel of modern technology, however, it didn't appear to be functioning, at least not at this very moment. There was no hum of the gears churning away, pumping out the latest edition. There were no beautifully printed papers, hot off the press, sitting out to dry before being released to the masses. There was just a wonderful machine, silently sitting, collecting dust.

It was a rather sad, even depressing sight to see, and what confused Viniece even more so was that all of the supplies were right there, within arms reach, ready to be put to good use! Dozens of inkpots, thousands of blocks of moveable type, and hundreds of reams of blank paper could clearly be seen.

So, then, what was the problem here?

But then the one named Louis - a blond-haired young man with wire rim glasses - came running over, having been beckoned by the dwarf, and swiftly tripped himself right out the open door, landing in the hallway with a painful thud. At the very same moment, Jamie – a sweet looking, freckled, redhead – became startled by the actions of her mentor and proceeded to drop an entire ream of crisp, white paper, sending hundreds of sheets to the dirty floor below. Claire - a rather attractive, raven-haired young woman - seemed to be the only one able to hold it together and, yet, she simply looked on with an expression of utter boredom, one that basically said, “I would rather be anywhere else but here!”

“And this, my dear boy,” the dwarf began, with a theatrical wave of his hand to his incompetent-looking staff, “clearly explains why we currently have no paper. It’s not for a lack of tools, but more from a lack of talent. They’re all great reporters, but they make horrible printers. Simply horrible.” And then he pushed past Viniece, stepping over Louis, who was still lying in the hall, and quickly made his way toward the stair, adding as he departed into the dark, “I’ll be back in three candlemarks! Perhaps, if you are still here, I'll put you to work. You seem to have the physical requirements needed to work the press...”

And then he was gone, leaving Viniece with Louis, Jamie, and Claire.

[Viniece]

Viniece decided that Jamie and Louis were just total buffoons and not even worth bothering with, Claire, he reasoned, might be intelligent, she certainly seemed bored enough with the antics of the rest of them. First, however, he decided to explore the room. The equipment really was all here, everything needed to run a paper, and the press machine appeared to be in an operable condition. However. So much of the supplies were strewn about carelessly, as though no one here knew their right foot from their left. Why didn't he have anyone that actually knew what they were doing? He called all three of them “great reporters” ... but Viniece found himself even doubting that much. They seemed too careless to him to even stay alive out on the street. Claire, at least, didn't seem careless, only bored.


“Morons, aren't they?” He asked her. Settling himself on the floor near her to wait.

[Seregon]

As Viniece made his way around the spacious, yet disorganized room, Jamie gave up on collecting the hundreds of sheets of paper she had dropped and, instead, made her way out to the hallway where Louis was still lying. In a matter of heartbeats, she somehow managed to lock herself and her mentor out of the room. How this was actually achieved appeared to be a mystery to both the sea elf and Claire, however, the young lady simply shrugged, making no effort to rectify the situation.

“I guess you could say that,” she began, looking down at Viniece as he sat upon the paper strewn floor. “We do look a bit like a bunch of idiots. However, I can assure you, I am fully capable of handling myself. Louis is too, except around the boss. He tends to get nervous around him. Jaime, well, Jaime is just Jaime, and I will leave it at that.”

Sliding from her stool, she moved closer to the sea elf and offered a graceful, slim hand. “Serale. The name is Claire Kirare. The two in the hall are Louis LeRue and Jamie Allsun. Oh, and the pudgy dwarf goes by Pierre Blanc, however, we sometimes call him Pear, because, well, he’s clearly shaped like one. Don’t you think? He actually doesn’t mind the nickname. He sort of thinks it's cute, when he's in a good mood, which is rare.”

Claire paused for a moment and regarded the elf with a curious expression, but, after a moment of looking him over she simply continued chatting away.

“You’re not from around here…are you?” she verbally reasoned. “Well, that’s ok. You appear to be in the right place at the right time. That is, if you’re here looking for a job. As you can see, we recently lost our entire printing press crew. They just sort of vanished, one by one, leaving us to fend for ourselves.”

She paused again, and simply smiled at Viniece with her dark eyes.

“Well, worry not. Pear will be back a bit later. How about in the meantime you and I take to the streets? I have a story I need to follow up on, because, believe it or not, I am indeed a reporter for this crazy paper, and a pretty darn good one too!”

With that said, she simply offered the sea elf a hand up.

[Viniece]

Viniece listened to her rambling chatter with the same patience that was instilled into every Nimalni youth, the same patience he held to, despite his need to keep his mind occupied, unable to wander into forbidden ground. He didn't say anything, to him, further speech was rather unnecessary.

She told him their full names and shared what he supposed was intended as a joke regarding the dwarfs name, he ignored the joke and stored the full names in his memory, in case he decided to work with these clowns. Eventually, she got to things that mattered. So. The entire press crew left them to fend for themselves. Considering what he'd seen of them so far, and heard from this chattering girl Claire, he didn't really blame them one bit. They were a silly lot, these people who called themselves the town's reporters.

When she offered her hand saying, “How about in the meantime you and I take to the streets?”, he was tempted to say no and continue waiting patiently for Pierre to return. After a few moments hesitation, however, he put his webbed hand in hers and, with a groan, lifted himself to his feet. She would either take this as acceptance or not, didn't matter to him, he saw no reason to speak.

[Seregon]

Claire was on the verge of withdrawing her hand, when, suddenly, the sea elf took it and pulled himself to his feet.

"Excellent. Let's go," she responded as she gathered a leather travel pack and fur-lined cloak from a nearby stand.

Advancing toward the locked door, she turned, smiled, and then winked at Viniece.

"Watch this."

Dramatically yanking the door open, after unlocking it, she managed to startle both Jaime and Louis in one single stroke, causing the female apprentice to simply tumble over her mentor who was just getting to his feet.

"The two of you are utterly hopeless!" she chuckled, "I'm going out for a bit and I'm taking our friend here with me. I have a story I need to follow up on and I believe this is the perfect moment to do so. If I'm not back by the time Pear returns, let him know that we will be returning and that he should simply wait for us."

Moving down the hall, Claire quickly made her way to the first floor, along the hall, and out into the snow covered streets. At this point, her cloak found its way to its proper place, as did her pack.

"We're going to be visiting the Chambre de Verre," she noted as she crossed the street. "Have you ever been? It's a beautiful shop if you haven't, with hundreds of handcrafted pieces of art...however, it was recently robbed. So, that's why we need to make a visit. From what I have pieced together so far, it appears to have been a rather scandalous theft."

She paused then, regarded Viniece, and questioned, "What's your name again? I don't believe I've ever seen you around the city before."

[Viniece]

Viniece shook his head at the antics of his new guide. Honestly. Did anyone in Jaedaxia have any sense? He didn't much care where they were going, but he had no need for sitting around where his thoughts might go down treacherous avenues. When Claire asked his identity, he answered, “Viniece, from Nimalnus.” He then waited for her to resume taking him wherever it was she was going.

[Seregon]

Claire simply nodded as Viniece offered only his name and origin. She had hoped for a bit more from the sea elf, but apparently he wasn't in the mood to disclose more than that. And so, as a result of his curt answer, she found herself remaining silent until they were standing outside of their destination.

"Viniece, this is the Chambre de Verre," she noted as she reached for the front door, opened it, and ushered him in. "Why don't you take a look around the showroom, while I find someone who works here?"

Leaving him to his own devices, Viniece soon found himself standing in the middle of a bright and sparkling setting. Hundreds of pieces of hand-blown glass in every size, shape, and color were on display. Some were intricate, while others were simplistic. Some took the form of recognizable shapes, such as snakes or horses, while other pieces were simply crafted to appear as orbs or discs. However, regardless of their degree of detail, each one was beautifully crafted and, as a whole, the overall presentation was simply breathtaking.

Roaming about the showroom, Viniece began to realize that there was a certain flow to how the pieces were arranged. It wasn't as random as it first appeared. There was indeed a method to the madness.

Each artist had their own display, clearly marked by a crisp, white note card resting at the base of their work. Names such as Julian DeLance, Sorla Ten'ath, Iseult Fluersdotter, and Drake Mandolash were carefully written in an attractive script. In the corner of each card there was also a number, which the sea elf could only assume was the amount of crowns each piece was being sold for.

To think that such trinkets and baubles would garner such prosperity was beyond Viniece. However, he had to admit, he did find one or two pieces to his liking...but those prices! Simply ridiculous!

[Viniece]

Viniece followed Claire as she wove through the streets of Jaedaxia expertly. They first left the Libertas Sentinel going south around the building and then east. On his right was a strange gaudy neighborhood that Claire rather obviously avoided going through. He saw some Esh'lahier and Katta roaming those streets, and so he didn't question her avoiding the place. Before long they turned back south, the gaudiness still to his right, a great moat and a grand castle stood to his left now. It was tall and stood with it's ruddy greyed brick walls right against the edge of the moat, the walls going upwards towards a roof of black stone.

Crossing a bridge across a small river, Viniece found the road bending to the southwest, and he found himself passing a campus of white marble buildings that were quite obviously places of learning. The road then bent back to the southeast again and before long Viniece found himself with two buildings on either side. On the right, a dark grey stone building smoothed over with clay, it was obviously a place of defense and military. On his left stood a building that was rather unassuming, and it was into this building that Claire went. She told him it was the Chambre de Verre and ushered him in, she then followed behind him and closed the door.

Inside, the showroom was actually rather incredible. He had no way to know that Chambre de Verre was Jaedaxienne for “House of Glass,” but if he had, he'd have considered the name as unassuming as the exterior of the building. The place was a veritable palace of marvelous works of glass. Both art and dishes appeared before him. The artistry of these people who worked with glass rivaled the Nimalni with their stone architecture.

After some exploration Viniece decided that one particular artist caught his eye more than any of the others. She was a creative genius, this Iseult. He wandered over to the area dedicated to her work and started picking up pieces of her work.

[Seregon]

As Viniece grasped the nearest work of art created by Iseult, he immediately noticed how smooth and utterly flawless the piece was. The crafter, whoever he or she was, was indeed a talented individual. It felt cool to the touch and, oddly enough, completely comforting to the sea elf. To him, it easily evoked recent memories of being deeply submerged in a refreshing and invigorating body of water. The blue and green swirls, which flowed around the piece, were reminiscent of the very tides that brought him to Jaedaxia. It truly was a magnificent work of art.

However, in a flash, the calm that had quietly washed over him was vanquished, replaced by a searing flash of pain that started in the center of his chest.

Startled, Viniece nearly dropped the masterpiece, sending it to its doom upon the slate floor below. But, somehow, he managed to keep a firm hold of it as he found himself literally struggling to catch his next breath. The pain was persistent, cutting through his torso and then radiating out to his extremities. He felt the urge to cry out, to scream even.

And then…it was gone.

As quickly as the assault upon his body had come, it had moved on, leaving his entire form slick in a fine layer of sweat. And, as much as he wanted to draw his attention back to the work of art still gripped in his hand - in an effort to determine if it was somehow the cause of this sudden attack, regardless of how silly that sounded - his eyes were now forced to focus on a new and equally startling development.

There, resting peacefully against his bare chest was his prize possession - the one thing he had in remembrance of his father who had abandoned him, a gift from his mother - his necklace. Yet, it wasn’t the object itself that drew his immediate attention - it was the pale, blue-green glow that was now emanating from it that nearly took his breath away!

[Viniece]

What just happened? Viniece had no idea what to make of it. The intense pain which he no doubt deserved fully, and the glow that now came from the pearl inset into the gold necklace. Neither of it made any sense to him.

He remembered then that he still clutched the piece of glass art that had spurred the attack. He walked over to the person who seemed to be in charge of accepting money for things and put the object on the counter, waiting for the individual at the counter to ask him to pay whatever it was worth, since, in his agony he'd forgotten what it cost.

He'd buy the thing and look into it more closely later. Perhaps the pain it caused him was only a precursor to greater damage it could deal to him if he only sat with it long enough. He didn't understand it, didn't know how it could have harmed him, but he'd read about something called arcana, perhaps that's what it was. Arcana. Perhaps there was an imbuement in this thing that could harm him somehow.

He had thoughts swimming in his head about how he might be able to get the object to cause him such pain where he'd be able to get impaled while doubling over from the pain. This would be pleasant.

[Seregon]

Taking the piece to the counter to pay the thirty crowns noted on the card, Viniece kept a close eye on the orb the entire time. However, as the clerk took the glasswork to wrap it up for the sea elf, the sea elf immediately noticed that his necklace began to dim.

"This is a beautiful work of art, one of our best. Mademoiselle Fluersdotter is a very talented crafter. It's a shame she moved away," the clerk noted as he wrapped the orb in protective papers, took the payment of crowns, and then carefully handed the item back to Viniece.

Hesitating for only a heartbeat, the sea elf greedily took the wrapped item, inwardly wondering what would happen once he had it in his grasp. Would there be another violent reaction? Perhaps something far more painful was yet to come. He could only hope and dream. Clearly he deserved whatever torture this item was going to dish out.

However, to his slight dismay, there was no jolt, no searing flash, only the return of the faint glow, a mere pulse now, from his necklace.

"Oh, you made a purchase?" Viniece suddenly heard from behind him, the voice clearly belonging to Claire. As he turned to face her, she continued, "I'm finished here let's head back to the office."

She made her way for the door now, holding it open for them to take their leave.

"Are you feeling okay? You look...rather...unwell," she commented as he approached, obviously noticing the slight layer of sweat still coating his entire body. "Was it too warm in there for you? Those furnaces do tend to kick off a great amount of heat. I remember this one time..."

The reporter continued to prattle on at this point, most of which the sea elf decided to ignore. His mind was elsewhere. He could only focus on one thing - the orb. He needed to know more about it. He needed to find someone who could help him. Perhaps, he even needed to meet with the crafter herself. Maybe she held the key to this sudden and unexpected mystery.

Time would tell.

[Viniece]

On the way back to the Sentinel, Viniece only distantly noted the way they went, which was exactly the same as the way they'd come, only in reverse. His mind was exploring how he could find out about the piece of art which he now held. Perhaps there might be someone in Jaedaxia that could tell him about arcana.

Nimalni disdained arcana and so the material and knowledge they had regarding it was severely limited. They basically said that once in the annals of ancient history their race knew arcana well, but they'd given it up after an ancient catastrophe after some ancient war. Some of the things arcana could do was mentioned. There was mention that there were different planes of arcana and that very few people could ever even learn more than one, let alone master. There were no great details though, and so Viniece found himself curious after having been attacked by some weird arcanic discharge.

They shortly returned to the Sentinel and Viniece's mind changed focus back from thoughts of arcana to the task at hand, which was convincing these fools that he could handle their machine without issue. In fact. They needed him to do so, otherwise they'll never get another paper out.