Clockwork Abattoir: Sordid Tales

[Steerpike]

[ic]"Alright," Cetana says, cracking her neck and loosening her joints after the fight.  "What can you tell me about Xalmas Rasch?  This man has gone missing?  Kidnapped?"[/ic]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=Xavier]The day still burns bright as Xavier makes his way across the bustling streets. He needles his way through the crowds, reaching his tenement in the Copper Ward, a tall affair of variegated brick, barred windows, and patinated balusters known as Ravel Row. From the myriad balconies, a few residents watch his approach with placid disinterest. Otherwise, the streets are empty save for an old busker and his foxfolk assistant who bicker over how to best -or most cheaply- repair a dilapidated crank organ. A familiar metallic tang fills the air, and the cobbled streets hum with the distant, if inexorable, drumming of automated factories.[/ic]

[ooc]Tis your home, so I'll let you describe it and whatever activities you wish to do therein.[/ooc]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=Catena]Guin fires her pepperbox -a viscous net erupts from the barrel and entombs Jarrow in a constricting tangle of thickening webs. She then turns to Catena and replies with the razor-sharp edge of resentment:

"Xalmas Rasch was born heir to his family's fortunes, but he squandered it gambling, whoring, and imbibing all manner of addictive substances. His appetites led him to associate with men of both low character and birth. His behavior shamed his family, and no respectable woman was willing to demean herself by taking his hand. So Xalmas was disowned, and his younger sister, Ylphine, responsibly assumed the mantle her brother spurned. Since then, Xalmas has repeatedly disappeared into the bowels of the Ebon Ward and worse, only to reappear time and again, sometimes sick, sometimes starved, but always far from sober."

"His most recent disappearance was a week ago, a day before Ylphine's burial. Before he departed, he promised Lord Elphias that he would return in time for the young master's assumption of the family's estate, including governance of the Night-Marrow Merchant Company. He broke that promise. His young lordship, however, believes that Xalmas' absence was... involuntary."

"Initial inquiries revealed that Xalmas was seen recently in the Ebon Ward, accompanied by a ghul streetwalker and a small-time fence named Pieng-Luc. The trustworthiness of such reports, however, is questionable. Thus far, the City Watch has proved unable or unwilling to help. The task then falls to you to succeed where the others have failed."

Guin holsters her firearm, reaches into her frockcoat, and hands Catena a faded daguerreotype. It depicts a middle-aged man, dressed in well-heeled attire, but marked by a wildness of hair and gaze. A pair of mensur scars runs down his left cheek, salaciously peering from the edges of a gilded half-mask.

"Shortly before he was disowned," Guin explains, "His hair has grayed and his cheeks have sunken, but the image rings true –even if its subject does not."

Squaring eyes with the albino mercenary, Guin adds with finality:

"Consider your contract signed, Catena. Now fulfill it."[/ic]

[ooc]Unless she has further questions she wishes to press, Catena is free to go[/ooc]

[Steerpike]

[ic]Without further words, Catena departs from the Night-Marrow Merchant Company headquarters and walks out into Ossein Court.  She breathes in the crisp dawn air, the smells of the city.  Even the sulphurous fumes of the Crimson Ward smell sweet as perfume to a nose as inured to stench as hers.

She studies the daguerrotype. The filthy tenements of the Ebon Ward are familiar to her.  This Pieng-Luc, however, is not.  First she must find the fence and see what he knows about the disappearance of this libertine.  She scans the Court and surrounds for a rickshaw or other cheap conveyance.[/ic]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=Catena]In the wan light of Writhing, the Court and its surrounding streets are relatively empty. Nevertheless, daybreak reveals a nearby rickshaw worker, a back-bent man dressed in soot-hued robes and a conical hat. He fumbles with a flintlock lighter, cursing quietly as he singes his shaking fingers. Catching Catena's gaze, though, he swiftly stows his lighter and half-flacid cigarette and hustles over, green-lacquered rickshaw in tow.

"Where to, first?" the man inquires, flashing a sallow grin beneath his wispy veil.[/ic]

[TheMeanestGuest]

[ic]"Ah, certainly it is but a scratch, Miss Perse. I would ably earn it twice more in service to your need." Hadric says, somehow managing to maintain a modicum of dignity in his current state. Nibs hisses in laughter from the pack discarded haphazardly on the floor. Hadric kicks it lightly, eliciting a serpentine grunt. "However.. I seem to be in quite a state. Perhaps a bath and a change of clothes? And of course I could not turn down the elegant ministrations of the renowned Farelige upon my singed and wounded locks."[/ic]

OOC: Sorry this took so long! Writing on a phone isn't the easiest, so I might have to leave my part a bit brief, at least until we get to servant-shopping.

[Steerpike]

[ic]"The Ebon Ward," Catena growls, squinting even in the meagre light of dawn.  Her eyes - large, pink, and sensitive - have never handled sunlight well, after years of darkness and half-light, a world of sweat and grasping hands, of pain and teeth and the whips of her arachnoid overseers.

She runs through a mental list of establishments, hide-outs, and rookeries, wondering where she should begin her search.[/ic]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=Hadric]Perse's honeyed eyes alight with pleasure at Hadric's reply, and in short order, she whisks him away from the wrecked salon. She draws a bath, strips him of his soiled raiment, and washes his skin, both broken and unblemished. As Hadric soaks in her claw-footed tub and its salt-perfumed waters, Perse tackles the man's maimed locks, occasionally sipping and sharing a thin, but serviceable, vintage of 459 C.R.. Nibs, who remains still somewhat sodden, is gifted two equally delicious dishes: a half-eaten box of liquored chocolates and a nigh-overflowing ash-tray.

By the time Hadric reemerges, he is adorned with an avante-garde quiff, slick with brandy-scented pomade, and a melange outfit of middle-class, but clean, garments. At his entrance, Carmine halts her significant, if incomplete, attempt at restoring the salon. She looks over his hair, sucks down another cigarette, and gives a congratulatory nod to her partner.

The goat-thing, however, begins to thrash and bleat at Hadric's return -prompting Carmine to swiftly beat the still-trustled beast with her broom until it settles.

It's hard to recall exactly how it happens, but as Hadric prepares to depart, the Farelige clumsily relate how they happened upon the beast -and how they would be ever-so grateful if a certain gentleman relieved them of it...[/ic]

[ooc]The girls claim that a gilt-tongued trader, one Otto Shamgarr of Crepuscle, talked them into buying the goat-thing to harvest its hair for their wigs, but failed to mention how vicious the thing was. After a night of cavorting, they returned home, where the beast was delivered, fell asleep, and awoke to it having burst its cage... and the rampage that ensued. In exchange for seemingly sincere, if vague, promises of free services at the salon and other favors, they ask Hadric to return the creature to Otto's barge, the Brinesaddle (last docked in the Tangerine Ward), and get a refund of their payment, a sum of 300 crowns.

Note: Such a task can easily be declined.[/ooc]  

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=Catena]The rickshaw worker nods obediently, then takes off at a brisk pace, hauling Catena away from the murderous splendors of the Crimson Ward and into the squalid embrace of the Ebon.[/ic]  

[ooc]Make an Intellect-based roll to see what places she knows that might be leads on finding the fence (who I think you said you would look for first?).

In interest of time, Catena is aware of the following individuals/places given your roll equals or exceeds the following value:

2. One of your previous contacts in the Orchid-Eaters, one Ngo-Shenn may know of this Pieng-Luc.

3. Yorian is another fence, who may or may not know Pieng-Luc. Yorian is known for frequenting the Foetid Crocodile in the Indigo Ward, but allegedly lives in the Ebon Ward.

4. Yorian lives in the disease-ridden sprawl known as the Harrow-House.  

5. Guin said Pieng-Luc was questioned by the authorities which suggests that the Watch may know more about him and his whereabouts. You have a tenuous relationship with a crooked Watchman who patrols the Ebon Ward, one Red Mei. You don't know where Red Mei is now, but her Ebon Ward landlord might.

6. At this time, Red Mei patrols the intersection of Chigger Lane and Mooncalf Tangle.[/ooc]

[Ghostman]

[ic]
Xavier lounges in his cleanly albeit cramped apartment, which also doubles as a small workshop and lab. He spends a long while recuperating after the morning's stressful events, pondering how to proceed. He figures that it'll be useless to attempt entry through the Dollhouse's basements doors; seeing as they are guarded and bolted shut from the inside, and he hasn't acquired anywhere near enough information to convincingly imitate a porter. The side alley door doesn't seem much of a better option, and going in through the main entrance would be lunacy. Then an idea occurs to him. The roof. There might be something like a skylight window up there. I could reach it by the thiefs' highway, too, avoiding the street level patrols. Even if there turns out to be no rooftop access, he'll still have the option of dropping down to the alley to try and break the side door.

Since his second attempt will necessarily run close to the end of the day -- the deadline for the mission -- Xavier anticipates that he probably won't have time to locate Tsin-Leirre within the dollhouse. Better to just set fire on the building, burn down the whole place. Arson, if successful, would also have the effect of making the hit appear like an accident. The only problem is that he currently lacks suitable equipment to make a fast-spreading fire. His first order of business, he figures, will be to appropriate such materials.

Having finished resting, Xavier changes to a new set of disguise, a nondescript lower-class citizen of a decidedly different appearance compared to his previous guise. In this attire he set on his sidequest to acquire some pyrotechnic implements.
[/ic]

[ooc]
Stat pools:
Might 9/10 (0), Agility 8/14 (1), Intellect 10/12 (0)

Two recovery rolls:
[blockquote]Rolled 1d6+1 : 2 + 1, total 3[/blockquote]
[blockquote]Rolled 1d6+1 : 6 + 1, total 7[/blockquote]

How do I distribute the points from recovery rolls? Does each roll apply wholly to a single pool or can I split the points? If it's the former case, I'll apply these rolls to Agility and Intellect.
[/ooc]

[TheMeanestGuest]

[ic]Hadric idly strokes his expertly coiffed quiff as Perse and Carmine relate their tale. He favors Nibs with a questioning glance. The demon simply shrugs - an ordinary gesture made extraordinary when performed without shoulders. "I cannot indeed rightly leave you alone in this unfortunate predicament, misses Farelige." He says, giving the goat-thing an unsavory stare. "Nibs and I shall endeavor to do our best on your behalf." He continues, sketching a half-bow. The demon nods

"Yessss. Our very best! For tasty ashes and chocolates and... unsssspecified favorsss." Nibs hisses, winking at Perse. The serpent crawls up Hadric, gracelessly depositing itself into already-shouldered pack. Hadric eyes the trussed beast warily. "Perhaps you have a cart?" he asks, considering his route to the Tangerine ward.[/ic]

Hadric gallantly accepts the task, and shall make his way to the Brinesaddle, goat in tow. Additionally, I'd like for him to have taken his first and second rests while being bathed and coiffed. I'll roll for that momentarily when I figure out what to roll. Also, is there any bonus to them for being taken while being pampered? >_>

[TheMeanestGuest]

[ooc]Recovery rolls:

[blockquote]Rolled 1d6+1 : 1 + 1, total 2[/blockquote]

[blockquote]Rolled 1d6+1 : 6 + 1, total 7[/blockquote][/ooc]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=Xavier]Upon exiting his abode, Xavier finds Ravel Row much as he left it, save that the sounds of quarreling come not from busker-organists but from sidewalk draught-players debating the 'loss' of the Adumbral War.[/ic]

[ooc] You can divide the recovery roll points among your pools as you wish. Also, since you have mastery in disguise, you can either choose to not roll, and get the effective result of 3, or roll if you want to see if you get higher.

As for arson-aiding materials, Xavier is aware of a certain cache due to his syndicate connections. Supposedly, a radical political group known as Faminites have been planning to burn down a section of the Ebon Ward in protest of its terrible living conditions. Supposedly, they have a cache of lady's lace phosphorus stored in ether wax designed to evaporate in the sunlight and expose the incendiary agent (The Brass Skulls knows since they were the ones who stole/brought/smuggled it from either one of the Collegia or rivals of the Annealed Brethren). You don't know their target, but the Faminites were last storing the dangerous materials in a disease-ridden sprawl known as Harrow-House.[/ooc]  

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=Hadric]Echoes of gratitude follow Hadric as he departs the Farelige. A velocipede-hitched cart is summoned, and soon thereafter, Hadric, Nibs, and the slavering beast are taken to the Tangerine Ward.

There, the morning markets bustle with the cries of costermongers selling candied wasps, quince-brandies, broiled ostrich flanks, and more. Closer to the shore, fishmongers haggle over the price of pickled sticklebacks, stuffed batagur shells, and abalone pies. River-captains off-load bushels of green-striped crabs, spider-cray, and lumpfish roe. 

Amidst the riparian and mercantile traffic, the Brinesaddle waits. A mid-sized trawler with folded sails in the fashion of Crepuscle, the ship rocks gently, lit by a string of faint glow-globes. A pair of guards patrol the decks, clad in varnished splint-mail and carrying an elyctic man-catcher and glass-bolt crossbow. Their visored gaze shifts between the ship's rusted gangplank and its canvas-covered cargo. One crate-shaped bulk in particular holds their attention. It stands apart near the aft, a tangle of wires slipping from the cloth, attaching to a voltaic battery that languidly hums in the moist air.

Seeing Hadric approach, however, the guard with the crossbow blocks the gangplank and demands to know his business, impassively adding that Otto is resting and not entertaining visitors till dusk.[/ic]

[TheMeanestGuest]

[ic]Hadric nods in commiseration. "Ah. Yes. I see, I see. But I am no mere visitor. Please, allow me to put your mind at ease, most dutiful of guardsmen. I am Hadric Beyam Phel-Nirian, and I represent the interests of a customer of your own employer: Miss Perse and Miss Carmine Farelige." he gestures with some disapproval at the trussed beast. "I have been vested with full authority as concerns this matter. I am here to speak with Mr. Shamgarr that satisfaction might be obtained. Please inform him that an urgent matter of business awaits his aquiline attention."[/ic]