VoB - Warehouse District

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Louis de la Forêt
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Post by Louis de la Forêt »

[Going with the idea that Louis totally failed to notice any hostility in the room...]

"Oh yes, of course sir. I detect no signs of hostility here at all. Everyone seems focused on their own sorrows or their own pleasures, here. I'll be fine here, thank you. And thank you for not askin me go back there, sir. Whatever that smell is, it reminds me too much of cat piss for me to really enjoy a drink and a dancing whore while I were there."
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Konrad Ingmann
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Post by Konrad Ingmann »

'I shant be long. Have another drink or two on me'.

Ingmann places enough money on the counter for Louis to drink twice as much as what he is now. Mentally calculating the time it will take for Louis to finish another two drinks, the anatomist strode into the back room, making sure he sat in a corner out of sight.

Not much time. Best to show restraint. I'm only here to alleviate my pain a little. A little analgesiac now and I can gradually decrease the dosage . . . in no time I won't need the opium at all. The palace of terrors that the demon Opium builds in my mind will soon crash to ruins.

With one hand free, Ingmann motioned to an opium pipe. Holding a coin of the smallest denonimation up with his other hand, the doctor attempted to gauge how much for one dose. It's all I have time for, he thought.
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

A small wizened man of dark complexity, clearly from somewhere in the Nissian empire unknown to Ingmann, smiles at him with cracked lips and yellow and brown teeth sticking out of swollen gums at wide intervals. He points at the coin, shaking his head, and reaches into the folds of the robe like clothing he wears. When it reappears, held between two long scrawny brown fingers is one gold piece. He smiles and nods.

Despite this being far more than you would expect to pay for such things elsewhere, you have no way of knowing the standard price in this part of the world, or even the status of the drug.

Around you, people lie in a haze, watching obliviously at the silent negotiation with glazed over eyes.
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Louis de la Forêt
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Post by Louis de la Forêt »

Louis smiles gratefully at the doctor, and quickly gulps down the rest of his drink. He turns to the half-mad barmaid... barwench?... the half-mad old woman behind the bar, and holding up his now empty tankard slides half of Ingmann's gift across the bar to her.

In spite of what he assumes were visions of dancing pixies all across the bar, as she was smiling too brightly for her insanity to be showing her demons, the woman took the money and poured him another tankard of swill.

Ale in hand, Louis turned back to the crowd. He leaned back against the bar, took a sip from the mug, grimaced in disgust, and scanned the crowd. This dancing that the whore had performed earlier intrigued him. So unlike anything he'd seen a woman do before, it caught his imagination completely. He'd not been this infatuated since the time he'd stumbled across a woman bathing in a stream, when he was a boy.

Louis gave no further thought to Ingmann, knowing that he was safe in the back room.
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Konrad Ingmann
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Post by Konrad Ingmann »

Extortionist. His crime is written in his face as much as in his deeds. Too bad I left my tools at the warehouse, his skull would make prime research material.

Doktor Ingmann shook his head, trying to appear firm, without displaying any of his contempt for the old man. He reached in to his purse and held a second coin of his lowest value alongside the other, turning them over between his fingers.

Ingmann stared at the gold piece and said, firmly 'no'.
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

The old mans face goes straight for moment. That moment seems to hang for sometime and Konrad begins to think he insulted the man.

But the straight face melts back into a smile, as the man makes some fumbling gesture. He holds up a finger before reaching into his sleeve and extending out a hand full of silver coins. He fans them out and holds them up, showing six silver pieces, roughly half of his original asking price.
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Konrad Ingmann
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Post by Konrad Ingmann »

Konrad shakes his head firmly, and maintains a stern expression. He takes four silver from his purse and places it on the floor before the old man. 'Not a silver more,' the doctor declares, knowing that even if the old man couldn't understand the words themselves, he'd surely get their meaning.

This stuff had better be prime quality.
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

The man looks upon the coins, his smile forced and frozen. His hand slaps down on the coins, sliding them over to himself and into his robes.

He turns and fumbles round with a long ivory pipe with silver tips. Instead packing the pipe with the black balled opium in a decorated bowl in the center of the room, he packs it from a greasy bag he had pulled from somewhere on his person. He places the pipe on a tray, alongside pot which he fills with steaming tea, a tradition in some parts of the world.

He turns, his characteristic smile back on his face. He presents the small tray upon two open hands, the steaming pot sits next to the ivory pipe, which can be seen to be packed with a tar black opium flecked with amber.
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Konrad Ingmann
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Post by Konrad Ingmann »

With a pub full of impoverished men with more lusts than their purses could obtain, and with the pressing need to always appear professional, Doktor Ingmann took pipe and tea cautiously. Naturally he would recline backwards, even lie on the floor beside the pipe. This time, he decided to remain seated, as straight-backed as he could maintain. There was not much time.

Ingmann touched the pipe to his lips and slowly drew his breath in . . .
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

The stuff burns raw and harsh, unlike the finer grade of things the Doktor is used to. He notices that the amber pieces of unrefined opium burn hard and weak, producing pungent black smoke. Also, not sure as to what it is, a faint taste in the smoke is odd. However, in his desire to make the most of his short time, the doktor burns through his pipe full hard and fast.

He sits there for a time. How long he is unsure, but no more than ten minutes. He feels the drug taking effect. Something appears different about this product here in the east though. His body is numbed, completely, and his vision blurred. The small ever smiling man seats himself infront oh him. The last thing Konrad Ingmann sees before he dozes off into a drug induced comer is the blurred and doubled face of the small smiling man.


*******

Outside in the main room, Louis is smiling at a young girl, as she slides along the bar towards him, seduction in her eyes. She takes a hold of his flagon and pours more of the swill into his mouth, her supple breast falling out of her low cut top. The Gusten is in heaven.

Over the girls shoulder, he notices movement in the curtain leading to the back room. A small dark man, dressed in a red robe, leans out of the doorway and says a few words to the big bare armed man standing on the door. Soon the big man ducks low through the doorway and vanishes from the room.

Despite the womans searching fingers straying towards his pants, the huntsmen cant help but notice it has been some time since he watched his charge vanish into that back room.
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Raphaelus the Younger
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Post by Raphaelus the Younger »

Raphaelus' arms were bound. He couldn't move. He tried to look around but smoke obscured his vision. Smoke. Where was the smoke coming from? Hadn't he escaped the fire? He looked down. His legs were also bound, bound to the stake behind him. Smoke billowed from dry wood underneath as the chanting around him became audible.

"...xen! Hexen! Hexen! Hexen!"

A voice rose over the chanting, a male voice, filled with spite and malice.

"Verbrennen Sie die Hexen!!! Alles Sie, die unaussprechliche Kulte untersuchen, sterben!!!"

Raphaelus felt flames lick at his toes. The pain was distant and disconnected, a dull ache. But he could see...could smell...his feet blistering and cracking.

"Namenlose Kulte!!! Namenlose Kulte!!! Alle werden brennen!!!"

The cackling of the witches beside him rose in volume and pitch, and their faces leered through the smoke. The twisted faces of eldritch nightmare.

The flames engulfed his chest, searing his face. He felt his beard ignite as the chanting grew ever louder.

The male speaker walked toward him, directly into the flames. Somehow, his Solarian gowns were untouched by the fire. Raphaelus recognised the face of the young Emissary sent to him by the Administratae, weeks ago. He leaned forward and smiled, revealing sharp, carven teeth. The horrific visage faded as Raphaelus' eyes melted from his face.

The mans words, in cultured Balorian, followed Raphaelus back into darkness.

"We meet again, miscredente."
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Louis de la Forêt
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Post by Louis de la Forêt »

Seeing the two men in the door way exchange words, Louis begins to have a thought for Ingmann's safety. Then the girl's hand moves slightly to the left.

She leans in to his shoulder, and her other hand rises to the back of his head. Pulling his head forward, so he'll lean forward and down to her height, she begins to exhale slowly onto his ear.

Louis' eyes close for a moment, in ecstasy.
  • Too bad for Ingmann. I'm out here experiencing this kind of bliss, and he's stuck in the other room missing out on all the fun.
With that thought, he's reminded of his recent worry for the doctor's safety. Silently berating himself for letting the doctor wander away, and berating himself for making the girl stop doing... whatever she was doing with her tongue (he must really find out what that was, because he intended to ask for it again later) he stood up straight again, with one hand on each of her hands, stopping them from doing what he so desperately wanted them to do.

"Attendez! J'ai besoin de... I must see to my companion." [*] Unsure which foreign language the locals are more likely to speak, and suspecting that the answer is 'neither', he tried to convey to the lady that her advances were very much wanted, but that he had to go check on the doctor. He hoped that the urgency with which he would do so and then promptly return to her was clear. To make his point clear, he leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth before stepping quickly around her to the back room.

[Assuming the bouncer lets Louis into the room...]

In hushed tones, Louis enters the back room. He begins with "Herr Doktor, are things well? I saw concern on that man's face, and wanted to be sure it wasn't on your behalf." As he speaks, he glances around the acrid and smoke-filled room for his charge.

* - "Wait, I need to..."
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

[Failed perception rolls]

As Louis enters the den, he see's a lot of people seated or laying in a haze. But his attention is drawn to the center of the room where the small man and the larger man are fussing over something on the floor.

As Louis begins to speak, the smaller mans head snaps up and he points at Louis, barking something harsh and commanding in a dialect foreign to the woodsman.

With the command, the bigger man stands up silently, and pushes Louis out of the den and points him towards the front door of the bar. This all happens so quickly that the huntsmen failed to lay eyes on Ingmann in the haze of the den.

The hulking man is firm, yet remains ever silent. He continues to push and shove Louis in such a way that clearly states his intentions, wishing Louis to leave the premise immediately. There is a very definite impression that he wont accept any other answer.
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Louis de la Forêt
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Post by Louis de la Forêt »

As Louis is shoved closer and closer to the exit, he realizes that he may well have failed at his first duty on the trip.

"Non!, I will not fail!"

He turns towards the door, as if giving up. But this is really a feint, so he can draw his sword without the bouncer touching him. Once his sword is drawn, he turns back to the larger man, threateningly.

"I don't wish to harm you, friend. But I must get my companion."
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

Barely passed intimidation roll

The large doorman puts his hands up, clearly taken aback by Louis actions. The room is silent now, all attention focussed towards the pair near the door. Some people around the room shy away from the action but one or two seem to stand, indicating their support for the bar and its owners.

The old woman behind the bar begins a tirade of abuse in another language, clearly aggravated by Louis and his sword. One of the patrons looks at you, realising you don't understand. He begins to translate.

"She says you must leave. She says get out now, and you wont get hurt. You must leave, or Jurgan here will hurt you. She isn't playing around mister." He goes quiet as he is shooshed by the girl he is seated next too.

Before you, Jurgans eyes silently flick from the blade to your face, clearly trying to size you and your ability up.
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

Raphaelus stirs from his dreams into a half woken haze. His head still spins and it takes some time before he remembers where he is and what is happening.

Sitting up, he sees by the wall of smoke that the fire is still raging. From his location, propped against a wall several dozen meters from the burning warehouse, he can see a bucket chain of sorts has been arranged from the nearby river. But like mosquitoes stinging a mighty bear, the efforts are of little use as the fire rages on.

Around him, other people effected by the heat or flames sit or lie upon the cobbled road. One man is badly burnt, with wet cloth draped over his burns, and a Gusten cursing at the absence of the expeditions doctor over looks him. The smell of burnt hair and cloth is everywhere, yet is still overpowered by the smell of seared flesh.

All this barely sinks in as Raphaelus comes to the damning realisation that the things he had fought so hard to save are not near his person.More worryingly, his satchel, containing the prized Book of Qeithuth and the small chest, is missing also. Raphaelus has no idea how much time has passed since he escaped the blaze. Panic sets in as he looks around in vain for his treasured possessions.

Searching frantically, the old scholar is just one in a throng of panicking people as the fire does its evil work.
Last edited by Dorian on Mon Apr 12, 2010 10:06 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Louis de la Forêt
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Post by Louis de la Forêt »

Louis almost collapses with relief. "Finally, someone who can help." Louis waves his sword at the helpful stranger, merely for emphasis, but his frustration at the language barrier and the rude treatment so far are making the man nervous.

"Tell her" he points his sword at the bar-maid... bar-crone? "that I came here with someone, and I need to collect him." then he points his sword at the doorway to the back room. "I don't want to hurt anyone, and I'm sorry for causing a fuss, but I really must be firm on this point." He emphasizes this by pointing his sword directly towards the translator, not actually an attack, though the man flinches somewhat anyway.
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Raphaelus the Younger
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Post by Raphaelus the Younger »

Dorian wrote: All this barely sinks in as Raphaelus comes to the damning realisation that the things he had fought so hard to save are not near his person. Panic sets in as he looks around in vain for his treasured possessions.

Searching frantically, the old scholar is just one in a throng of panicking people as the fire does its evil work.
Raphaelus half stumbled, half crawled back to the entrance of the warehouses, scanning the chaos as he went. His clothes and beard stank, and his skin was permeated with the bitter smell of woodsmoke. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging, desperately searching for his possessions. How could they have got away from him? He had been so careful... He had never thought of what might happen if he somehow lost the Book, and the chest...it was better not to think about it.

[Perception]

[Assuming Raphaelus finds nothing...]

Raphaelus arrived at the entrance to the warehouses, the heat nearly overcoming him. He tried to pinpoint the location where he had exited the inferno. Perhaps his possessions had fallen from his robe there?, he thought with a desperate hope. He continued his systematic search with growing anxiety.

[Perception]
Last edited by Raphaelus the Younger on Mon Apr 12, 2010 11:30 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

Raphaelus the Younger wrote:
Dorian wrote: All this barely sinks in as Raphaelus comes to the damning realisation that the things he had fought so hard to save are not near his person. Panic sets in as he looks around in vain for his treasured possessions.

Searching frantically, the old scholar is just one in a throng of panicking people as the fire does its evil work.
Raphaelus half stumbled, half crawled back to the entrance of the warehouses, scanning the chaos as he went. His clothes and beard stank, and his skin was permeated with the bitter smell of woodsmoke.

[Perception]

[Assuming Raphaelus finds nothing...]

Raphaelus arrived at the entrance to the warehouses, the heat nearly overcoming him. He tried to pinpoint the location where he had exited the inferno. Perhaps his possessions had fallen from his robe there?, he thought with a desperate hope.

[Perception]

Amazingly good perception roll= 4!!!! But another not so good roll...

Running around amongst the smoke, just one in a number of people milling about in the confusion, the old scholar is hardly noticed. As panic does its evil work, Raphaelus stumbles from place to place, searching in vain for his most prized of possessions.

Taking deep breaths, he tries to calm himself. Raphaelus, a man of study and learning, decides instead to think about the situation he finds himself in, as opposed to running around in vain. Now where to look...

Spotting men carrying possessions over to a large pile discarded and rescued equipment, Raphaelus tries there. Upon reaching the pile, he sees his pack amongst the pile of things. The rest of his things, however, are no where to be seen, possibly buried within the pile. Various people pick amongst the belongings, searching for their own things in the chaos. Oddly, a woman who appears to be a local is also picking through everything, no doubt looking to pocket whatever she finds.

Ignoring the old scholar, the woman continues her frantic sacking of the ventures possessions. It is with near physical terror that Raphaelus spots the corner of the small wooden chest which contents he values so highly.
Last edited by Dorian on Mon Apr 12, 2010 10:07 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Dorian
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Post by Dorian »

Louis de la Forêt wrote:Louis almost collapses with relief. "Finally, someone who can help." Louis waves his sword at the helpful stranger, merely for emphasis, but his frustration at the language barrier and the rude treatment so far are making the man nervous.

"Tell her" he points his sword at the bar-maid... bar-crone? "that I came here with someone, and I need to collect him." then he points his sword at the doorway to the back room. "I don't want to hurt anyone, and I'm sorry for causing a fuss, but I really must be firm on this point." He emphasizes this by pointing his sword directly towards the translator, not actually an attack, though the man flinches somewhat anyway.
The man begins translating, but doesn't get a chance to finish as the old woman begins to shout over him, seemingly addressing the entire room. Several of the male patrons, dock workers by the looks of them, begin to advance on Louis, alongside Jurgen who has resumed his slow advance.

The man pipes up to speak to Louis once more. "She just offered to clear their tabs if they help get rid of you. I would leave if I were you mister" Whilst he talks, Louis finds himself subconsciously backing away from the advance, and soon realises his back is only feet from the door.

[ooc] There is Jurgen plus 3 patrons confronting Louis. They seem reluctant to enter combat but don't seem to be about to back down either. I kind of feel that it is my duty to point out that combat will be very risky for Louis due to the numbers ahead of him. Louis has some incredibly bad luck when it comes to die rolls thus far too. He likes to roll in the high 80s[/ooc]
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