279 réponses à ce sujet

[Serelir]

You do Galatea marvelously! yes, it's hard to write Caius, because he's so strong, but we need to make him a little vulnerable.

[raging_monkey]

Do I really? I feel I sometimes write as a "lady of the night " instead of a strong fem fatale.

And I had to beat him til candy to came out so the fight lasted. I see him as the Darth sidious in monkai's story mixed with a hint of Darth bane. Its a wonderful challenge

[Uccio]

Yes the dark side of the force is strong with Caius.

[raging_monkey]

Yeah there's a lot of sith idealogoy in him I noticed (specifically from the EU )so it's easy to write him as the corruptor of a Jedi Knight (monkai and ely ) to varying degrees.

[Serelir]

Spoiler

Elowyn emerged with a list of possible victims. She hadn’t told the clerk what she was looking for, of course, just mumbled something about healing techniques. Glancing over the list, she discarded a few of the names whose circumstances didn’t fit the profile. Some of those had self-explanatory damage: struck by a falling gondola, for instance, or a lyrium experiment gone horribly wrong.

 

There were three that fit the criteria: they had gone out and not returned home. They were found, insensible, in alleys within a circular radius of the brothel. Relatives had been tending to their bodies. There had been more than three, the clerk explained, but some of them had died of starvation. Time was running out for the ones who were left.

 

Before she’d left, Caius had told her he wanted to be involved in her search. But he was gone – she couldn’t blame him, since she’d been away so long without any sign of returning. She thought perhaps she should have a message sent to him, but shook her head: he had more pressing matters than the whereabouts of his thirty-first apprentice. She touched the ring he’d given her and hoped she’d know if he needed her. Then she laughed at herself at the thought that she had anything to offer him. Perhaps whatever she discovered about the mage’s traps would be useful in some fashion.

 

The first victim on her list was a middle-aged woman. Her family lived in a somewhat unfashionable part of the city. It was a neighborhood of formerly-grand houses that were gradually falling into disrepair. The wealthy and powerful had moved on, leaving behind those who maintained the family fortunes only with difficulty.

 

The Tarpeia family home reflected the misfortune of its inhabitants: it had a forlorn, gloomy aspect. The paint was peeling, and the shutters hung crookedly. Elowyn eyed the front steps dubiously, worried they might collapse. She made her way carefully to the door and raised the dragon-headed knocker, letting it fall with a bang that echoed through the house.

 

She had almost given up waiting when the door was opened by an elderly servant who stood there, looking mutely at Elowyn, sorrow and weariness etched in his face.

 

“I’m here from the medical office,” Elowyn extemporized, “to check on Fabia Tarpeia.” The servant gestured for her to come inside, closed the door, and led her up a winding staircase to a darkened room. The house reminded Elowyn of the mage’s residence in his dream: forlorn, empty, a house that echoed with ghosts.

 

The servant cleared his throat and gestured to a wasted figure lying on a bed. “How long has she been like this?” Elowyn asked.

 

“Mistress has been in this state for several weeks, Ser. The healers have attempted to sustain her, but I fear her time is almost at an end.”

 

“Could you tell me how you found her in this state?” Elowyn asked.

 

“It was shortly after the death of her young daughter,” the servant said. “Mistress was distraught. She began going for long walks alone. She insisted we not accompany her. She didn’t return home one night, and we alerted the city guards. They found her like this. She hasn’t woken up.” The servant had trouble composing himself: his voice trembled. Elowyn wondered what would happen to him if his mistress died. She put her hand on his arm and squeezed it reassuringly.

 

“I’m going to try to find out what happened to her. I can’t make any guarantees. If you could give me a few moments alone with her, I need to conduct an examination.” Elowyn didn’t want the servant hanging around when she disappeared into the Fade. The servant looked at her doubtfully, but Elowyn smiled kindly at him, projecting calm, mentally encouraging him to go. It seemed to work, because he gave a sigh and exited the room.

 

Elowyn stepped into the Fade. She was sure that if Fabia was indeed a victim of the evil mage, she’d be dreaming. But would she be nearby, or did the mage keep his prisoners somewhere else? She didn’t think he’d lived at the brothel. She would have to find out where his quarters were.

 

In the Fade, the house was beautiful and grand and filled with candlelight. Elowyn opened the door and stepped into Fabia’s dream. Elowyn could hear people conversing, the sound of a party, laughter. A little girl ran up to her and took her hand. “Mama, let me show you what uncle brought! It’s the most marvelous present!”

 

The girl pulled her along, running down the stairs and into a drawing room. She gestured toward the mantelpiece over an ornate fireplace. “Look!” she said, gesturing toward a music box that sat on the mantel.

 

Elowyn moved closer and examined the music box. It was in the shape of festival tent with tiny flags waving from the conical roof. Inside were delicate figures, men and women dancing. But the music box was silent, the figures still.

 

The girl tugged on Elowyn’s sleeve. “Find the key!” she said. Elowyn looked at the girl, at her curls and ribbons and big shining eyes. “Find the key!” she repeated, her eyes growing bigger, filling Elowyn’s vision, and Elowyn found herself back in the room with the unconscious woman.

[Uccio]

Growing eyes, kind of creepy. That horror movie vibe.

[Serelir]

Good! I wanted it to be creepy. Now i have to make it creeeeeepier. 

 

But I am much much too distracted at the moment. 

[Serelir]

It's very hard to concentrate, you know, when my mind is elsewhere.

[raging_monkey]

Same

[Uccio]

Multitaskin skills get some training.

[raging_monkey]

Hard to do when I have a block

[Serelir]

Maybe get outside and take a walk? I hate it when I have writer's block. I really need to plan a trip somewhere - tired of hanging around my house.

[raging_monkey]

I play yugioh when I have a block but my old team isn't picking up lol

[Serelir]

I need an adventure, now that the weather is cooling off and I can come out of the summer torpor. You know what I miss about California? (besides the tidal pools) - I could go up to the Sierra and hike out to a completely deserted place and imagine I was the only person on earth. 

 

Though it's nice to hike with friends, too.

[raging_monkey]

There was this creek that I would spend my days at. Useless now since it's where jerks go to bang and leave their "skins" around so I went there to fish

[Serelir]

Need to leave some voodoo bundles around there to scare off the jerks.

[raging_monkey]

Id rather not go near the place sat in something that was just nast

[Serelir]

I'll take you to a clear mountain stream too far away for lazy rednecks to find.

[raging_monkey]

Cause I'll have to learn to swim lol. (I can prevent drowning that's it lol)

[Serelir]

I wish I were a good enough swimmer to do ocean swimming. I get in there and jump in the waves and swim between the sandbars, but I get a little panicky about riptides and big, big waves. Anyway, this is a stream we're in, so no worries!

[raging_monkey]

Hehe ironically I used to surf so you keep me from drowning I'll show you how to flow with the waves lol.

[Serelir]

I would love that! 

[Serelir]

Spoiler

Elowyn left the bedroom and found the servant hovering in the hallway. “Could you tell me if there’s anything in the house that was precious to your Mistress? Perhaps some item that belonged to her daughter?”

 

The servant thought for a moment. “Her clothes and toys are still in her room, exactly as they were when…” he hesitated. “There is something… she had a musicbox. I can show you.”

 

The servant led her down the stairs and into a drawing room, just as in Fabia’s dream, yet motes of dust danced in the sunlight filtering through the shutters. A musicbox rested on the mantelpiece, its tiny figures frozen, unmoving.

 

“This was Cloelia’s most precious possession. Dwarven-made. Her uncle brought it for her.”

 

“Is there a key?” Elowyn asked, holding her breath.

 

“It was buried with her. The musicbox has been silent since she passed away.”

 

“Could you tell me where she lies?”

 

“She is in the family vault, at the old graveyard.”

 

“Thank you, I’ll be back, I promise. Have hope!” Elowyn told the servant. He didn’t look convinced.

 

***

There were probably laws against breaking into family vaults. She hadn’t wanted to ask the family servant if she could violate Cloelia’s eternal rest. With Vel gone, Elowyn needed the help of another rogue. She sent a message to Caradoc and was relieved when he agreed to meet her at the burying ground. She hadn’t been a good friend to him, first by leaving his employer, then disappearing without a word.

 

He was leaning against the cemetery gates when she arrived. A wind was blowing up from the north, bringing with it the promise of a thunderstorm. Elowyn couldn’t help smiling when she saw him: he was not only gorgeous, but he had style and the attitude to go with it.

 

“You look well!” she told him.

 

“Long time, no see, missy,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Elowyn blushed. “So, what trouble are you cooking up for me this time?”

 

“A little breaking and entering. It should be right up your alley!”

 

“Dare I ask what this is about? Grave-robbing, by any chance?”

 

“Not exactly. It’s a little hard to explain.”

 

“I can be discreet!”

 

“Ok, follow me, I’ll tell you while we’re walking.” Elowyn gave Caradoc a bare-bones synopsis of her encounter with the mage while she led the way toward the Tarpeia Vault. She left out most of the details about what the mage had done to her, and merely alluded to needing some time away from Minrathous to explain her absence. Caradoc raised his eyebrows and whistled.

 

“So it’s not exactly stealing,” she said. “I’m sure that Cloelia’s spirit, wherever it is, would want her mother freed from the musicbox.”

 

“You know, I’d have a difficult time believing all this. But with mages, it seems that anything is possible.”

 

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” replied Elowyn, wondering how flabbergasted Caradoc would feel if she took him into the Fade and introduced him to a talking tree.

 

Elowyn thought about burial customs as they made their way through the maze of tombstones and vaults. This cemetery was ancient and overflowing with the dead. Elowyn wondered if the city had new burial grounds on the mainland, or if they had turned to ossuaries or cremation. One thing was certain: the rich retained the privilege of laying their loved ones within the walls of the city. She’d never seen such fantastic tombs! The landscape was a paean to death, filled with weeping statues and bouquets of stone. The Tarpeia vault, though somewhat cracked and neglected, bristled with leering gargoyles and wyverns.

 

Stormclouds scudded across the sky. Elowyn looked doubtfully at the gloom and hoped they wouldn’t be caught in a downpour. Caradoc got out his picks and began working to open the lock. “It’s so rusted that it might be better just to break it off,” he said. “Doesn’t look like anyone has checked on it in years.”

 

“Just give it your best shot, and if we have to break it, so be it.” Elowyn kept watch while Caradoc worked, but the cemetery was completely deserted. “This must be the quietest place on Minrathous” she thought. A whirlwind of dry leaves and dust blew between the tombs.

 

“Got it!” said Caradoc as the lock clicked open. The door emitted a shriek as they eased it open. “I hope nobody heard that!” said Caradoc, embarrassed at the noise.

 

“Some stealthy rogue you are!” Elowyn laughed.

 

“Don’t know why you couldn’t just have done your little trick and stepped through the wall,” he countered.

 

“Because I didn’t want to end up in the wall,” replied Elowyn. “It’s not so easy when you can’t see where you’re going.”

 

“It’s a wonder that doesn’t happen more often! Arms and legs sticking out of walls everywhere.”

 

“Maybe when we hear noises in a wall, it’s not actually rats,” said Elowyn.

 

“Ewww,” Caradoc shivered, “I’m going to think about that the next time I hear scuttling in the walls.”

 

Elowyn kindled veilfire and lit a couple of torches inside the tomb. Burial chambers lined the walls, but none were marked “Cloelia.” Her chamber must lie in the darkness below. A set of stairs led down. She and Caradoc looked at each other, neither wanting to go first.

 

“After you, my dear,” said Caradoc mischievously.

 

“Gee, thanks!” Elowyn replied. “How gracious of you.”

 

“But of course! I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

The veilfire cast eerie shadows on the walls as Elowyn made her way carefully down, her steps echoing off the stone walls. A larger chamber opened through an archway, its walls lined with tombs. At the center stood a pedestal on which rested a child-sized coffin. Elowyn brought her light close to it to read the inscription. She noticed Caradoc looking uneasily at the shadows and touching the hilts of his daggers.

 

“This is the right one!” said Elowyn, grasping the lid of the tomb. She began to push it open when a crack of thunder made them both jump. Elowyn dropped her torch in surprise, and they were plunged into darkness.

[raging_monkey]

Well isnt ely a macabre girl

[Serelir]

Yes, well... if she hadn't been locked up in the Circle for most of her life, she'd have visited lots more graveyards!