Clockwork Abattoir: Sordid Tales

[Seraph]

[ic]Mr. Nix watches Shiqq and Tohno go, until the putrescent haze envelops his erstwhile companions in a sheet of noxious vapor and they cease to be a part of his present reality.  Scanning for any other spies or loiterers, he unfurls the bundle of oxidized metal and rankening flesh, lowering it for Vex to sniff.  The hound licks at the flesh eagerly, and Nix kicks him.

"It isn't for eating!" he scolds.  "Not yet.  We needs to find it.  It was near here.  See if it can pick up a trail."

While Vex sniffs around amid the fumes, Mr. Nix begins searching around for a way up to the rooftop, or any signs of the creature's presence here.[/ic]

[ooc]Vex Tracking: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 4, total 4[/blockquote]

Mr. Nix Perception: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1[/blockquote][/ooc]

[Ghostman]

[ic]
Xavier groans and curses at the worker that bumps into him, feigning outrage but making no attempt to stop the man. He's more interested in maintaining his assumed persona, as well as observing the back entrance to the Dollhouse. His patience is rewarded as he witnesses the delivery of some obviously sensitive material, one that warrants an armed courier. Noting that the door is bolted from within, his hopes of gaining entry this way falter. I'd have to intercept one of those robed couriers, assuming more will be on their way today. Dispose of one quietly and use his attire to disquise myself as his likeness. That plan involves risks I'd rather avoid -- His thoughts are interrupted by the approaching watchman.

Xavier turns to regard the guard, quickly considering his options. Doesn't look like he sees much of a threat in me, else he'd be charging at me with serious intent. If I hightail it now that'll only confirm any suspicions he may have, and possibly alert the dollhouse staff. Better to play my role... for now.

"Oy? Whut's the matter, sirrah?" He growls in a weary, somewhat grumpy tone. His natural eye regards the guard with little more than mild interest.
[/ic]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic]At Xavier's reply, the guard slows his pursuit. His copper, conical hat shades his eye, but his scowl is all-too obvious as he trudges up:

"What's the matter?!"

He goes to cuff Xavier in his ear.

"It's past sunrise, drudge, so clear out!"

The guard gives Xavier another withering glare, goes to turn, then stops dead in his tracks. He stabs a finger at Xavier's chest, and demands with a rattle of his swordspear, "Where's your badge, sweeper?"

Hearing the guard's ire, some travelers slow or stop to watch what unfolds. Others quicken their pace, skirting around the pair as they anxiously avoid eye contact.[/ic]

[ooc]Natural 1 disguise check...

Also, you can choose to avoid the blow (it's a DC 0 for you); otherwise, you take 1 damage.[/ooc]

[Steerpike]

[ic]Catena scans her surroundings, quickly evaluating her opponents, pupils dilating.  Her pink eyes come to rest on the ornate blunderbuss of Tarpaulin Tlex.  The weapon might clear the room with a single shot.  Muscles tensed, she leaps towards the leather-clad man, chains whipping through the air, hoping to injure and disorient him before he can bring his weapon to bare.[/ic]

[ooc]Catena attacks, using one level of Grit in her attack roll and thus expending 1 point of her Agility pool:

[blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 3, total 3[/blockquote][/ooc]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic]The chain smashes into Tlex, shattering his nose. He staggers back, bloodied, clutching his now-stained handkerchief. His other hand grasps his blunderbuss, raising it, not to fire, but in surrender.

"I fold!" he cries out, spitting tooth-shards, "Sixty Hells, woman, I fold!"

Before Catena can reply, however, the Ossifragant barrels into her, attempting to crush her in a cruel embrace. Rank breath assaults Catena's face as the ghul hisses:

"Lookss like it'ss jussst uss, Pink-Eyesss"[/ic]

[ooc]Your move. First make an Agility defense roll (DC 3). If you succeed, you evade the grappling attack. If not, you take 6 damage, and you are grappled, imposing a 1-step hindrance to attack/defense rolls. Either way, you can take your round. If grappled, you can attempt to slip out of the grapple (Agility DC 4), or muscle out of it or take over the grapple (Might DC 4). And you can obviously attack if you want instead, either in or out of a grapple.  Remember to please post stat pools at end of each round.[/ooc]

[Ghostman]

[ic]
Xavier ducks under the guard's swipe. "Ah! I'm goin', I'm goin'."

He is about to scurry off when the watchman suddenly intercepts him. "My badge? Why, it's right he-" He glances down at his chest, feigning surprise. "Huh? Musta lost it. Fuckin' hells, now I won't be gettin' paid for this haul!" He bemoans, and tosses the litter he's collected onto the cobblestones in a in a frustrated tantrum. While putting on this show Xavier is also backing off from the guard, preparing to dash for the alleys away from the Boulevarde.
[/ic]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ooc]Make a bluff roll [Intellect based] for Xavier, please. Your expertise in deception tasks reduces the DC by 1 step. Also, please declare what your daily flex skill is going to be today[/ooc]

[Ghostman]

Flex skill is lockpicking.

Bluff roll:
[blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1[/blockquote]

[Ghostman]

[ooc]It seems likely that Xavier will be running to try and lose the guard in the alleys. So I'm making a roll here in advance, for what ever check (if any) is needed.[/ooc]
[blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1[/blockquote]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic]The noxious vapors bedevil Vex at every turn. Amazingly, the hellhound still manages to pick up the scent, eventually following it to an oil- and blood-stained spot on the shrouded streets. Beyond that, however, the demon loses the trail, as the scent is too faint, too muddled by the overpowering fumes.

Mr. Nix fares even worse. Despite his resistance to the sickening effects of the gases, he is stymied by the haze. As he stumbles in the haze, he is nearly roasted by several blasts of fetid steam. Eventually though, he finds an aerugo-eaten staircase of pitted metal. It creaks pitifully as he climbs it, swaying and rocking like a pained beast. Ignoring its complaints, Mr. Nix reaches the second story, breaking free of the thickest vapors, only to expose himself to the baleful gaze of the rising sun. He closes his eyes momentarily to blot out the irksome light and continues his climb. However, he soon becomes disoriented, and when he opens his eyes, he finds himself before a side-door in one of the nearby buildings. Beside its brick-lined threshold, a steel bell and a waxy plaque reads, first in Hellspeak, then in a language he cannot understand:

Uşak-Barış, Chemist
Purveyor of Tinctures, Vapours, and Unctuous Solutions

Looking around in the hazy dawn, Mr. Nix cannot tell whether he is before the hobnailed building, nor can he find Vex in the miasma below.[/ic]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic]Already suspicious, the guard tries to grab Xavier as he backs away. The pile of garbage, however, gives the incognito assassin just the leverage to escape. Yet, as Xavier turns back around, he nearly runs into another Watchman, previously unseen in his blindspot. Backpedaling, Xavier accidentally runs into his discarded garbage pile, tripping over a rain-sodden scone. He slips and falls face-first on the street. Perhaps even more painful is the sight of his previously-hidden sabre clattering on the ground.

By the time Xavier rolls over, he is greeted by a pair of swordspears poised over his chest. The two guards glower at him, one asking the other in a tight voice:

"What'd we have 'ere, Jeun?"

"Not sure, Sergeant. He was posing as a sweeper, but I reckon he was casing one of the nearby businesses."

"Or one o' their clients."

"A pedophile, eh?"

"Wouldn't be the first. Either way, he's earned at least one ride on the Carousel."

"If he's lucky. The boys at the Painted House don't take kindly to child-snatchers."

Punctuating his point, Jeun lowers the tip of his spearsword. Meanwhile, the sergeant gives Xavier a mirthless gaze as he asks:

"So what will it be, 'sweeper': the Carousel or the House? Of course, we could always save ourselves the paperwork and gut you here, claiming you resisted arrest." [/ic]

[ooc]3 natural 1s, with 2 back-to-back. Bad luck, mate. Regardless, it's your move. You are prone, and this causes a hindrance to defense rolls vs melee. It also causes a hindrance to any other movement-related task, like trying to run, tumble away, etc., until you are no longer prone. You also take 1 point of Might damage from the fall.  Also, the Glass Carousel is a local 'jail' where prisoners work off petty crimes/debts by walking a massive rattle-wheel that powers various machinery like canals, dry docks, and dredging. The Painted House is the unofficial title of the large prison in the Ebon Ward. [/ooc]

[Rose-of-Vellum]

[ic=A Reverie, Interrupted]Ulle-Shi knocks softly on the door. "Lord Phel-Nirian?".

His only reply is the rustle of sheets and somnolent breathing. He knocks again, more insistently, but the same reply greets him. As the nearby clock ticks away, Ulle-Shi wrings his hands. Eventually, he sighs, pushes the already ajar-door, and slips into the room.

The extravagantly decorated bedroom would feel at home in the richest of noble manses or magister's palaces –at least until one looks a little more closely at the sheets on the four-poster bed and notes how stained and frayed they are, or examines the tapestries and curtains and sees the patches of mold and threadbare edges. A tall, well-stocked bookcase to the south turns out to be leaning against the wall for support; the contents of its sagging shelves are poorly produced books with a combination of medical and erotic names on their mildewed spines. Three frames of faux silver hang on the walls, bereft of paintings. Everything is lightly musty, stained with age and well-beyond its prime. Moreover, there is something false, something almost hollow about the room. Closer inspection reveals the mendacity: nearly all the furnishings are well-used props, collected from countless plays and forgotten productions.

Sighing at the hollow opulence, as well as the bed's still-slumbering occupant, Ulle-Shi traverses the room. He throws open the musty, fraying curtains. Sunlight streams in, further banishing the room's facade of prosperity. Still unsatisfied, Ulle-Shi open a window, allowing the morning breeze to wash out the musty air. He pauses for a moment, enjoying the resplendent vista of the Violet Ward with its petal-strewn and ivy strangled balconies; traffic of steamships, submersibles, and paddle-wheeled water-taxis, and the myriad bathhouses, shadowmilk cafes, saloons, and perfumed harems that caress the Radula's west bank.

Turning away from the rose-rimmed splendor, the man loudly 'tsks', then whips the satin sheet off the bed, exposing the sleeping figure to the chill draft. "Lord Phel-Nirian," he politely demands, "It is time to rise. I come bearing important news about your case."

Slowly, Hadric stirs. He languidly stretches his limbs and yawns like a great cat, drowsy after a long feast. The draft, however, disturbs his peace. A shiver wracks his body, and his eyes open ever-so slightly. As they do, they behold Ulle-Shi's visage: a slight man, dressed in a tasseled, blue-silk cap and matching tunic, a brass pince-nez, and wooden sandals. He clutches a parcel and collection of scrolls. And he is waiting.[/ic]

[ooc]Ok, MG, here ya go. Ulle-Shi is a barrister, one who has been working on your case (or should I say the current one, as others have quit).[/ooc]

[TheMeanestGuest]

[ic=The Early Bird Gets the Worm]Hadric cranes his head forward to peer blearily at the intruder, stifling another yawn. "Oh." he says. "Ulle-Shi. It's only you. For a moment - well, nevermind. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine day?" Hadric says, rolling his neck from side to side as he props himself up into a sitting position. Ulle-Shi opens his mouth to reply, but Hadric excitedly raises a hand to still the barrister to silence. "Wait! Don't answer. First, I have news! So. You've no doubt heard rumour of the unpleasantness that has foisted itself upon the House of Taim in recent weeks. Terrible stuff, really." Hadric says.

Slowly and reluctantly he hoists himself out of bed, and stumbles behind the faded byobu - an unfashionable scene of falling leaves and strange hellish birds in flight - that stands awkwardly close to the four-poster. "In any case." he continues from behind the screen, evidently donning his day clothes. "As is proper, I sent off a letter offering my commiseration and sincere condolences to the Lady Taim. Of course I didn't expect much in the way of reply - a brusque rebuffment perhaps, or more likely nothing at all. To my surprise, I will admit, I received the most wonderfully polite correspondence. You see, it turns out that my late mother enjoyed the acquaintance of the late mother of Magistra Taim - which is hardly a revelation, I suppose, considering mother knew half the city in one way or another. Lady Taim thanked me for my concern, and in turn made plain her own regret at the unfortunate situation in which I find myself. We have since exchanged several letters discussing this and that, and - and! - in the latest I have been invited to call on the Magistra for afternoon tea - tomorrow! So, Nibs and I have been talking, and we've come up with -

"A ploy!" the befeathered demon yells as it plops unceremoniously from the bed canopy onto the floor.

"No! No. Nothing so uncouth as that, Nibs." Hadric replies.

"A ssscheme!" Nibs hisses, curling its bulk around one of the bed posts.

"More of a.. a plan, really." Hadric says sheepishly, dusting off his pants as he emerges from behind the byobu.

"And what is it this time?" Ulle-Shi asks, sighing, a look of long-suffering writ plainly across the barrister's features. Hadric grins.  

"Well, you see. The Lady Taim has intimated most carefully that the rumours regarding the involvement of the Saderacs in the recent unpleasantness are not entirely untrue. Serendipitously, dear old Uncle Claudius just so happens to be involved with the Saderacs in a certain business venture. Of this I am sure the Magistra is quite aware, as the ongoing implication is one of mutual benefit." Hadric says, arms akimbo as he stares out the window.

"And the icing!" Nibs cries, its head bobbing from side to side in mid-air, neck extended from its twined body. Hadric snaps his fingers.

"Right! The icing on the cake. The Magistra just so happens to have the ear of Chief-Justice Shenn. My exuberance overflows!" Hadric says. "Oh, don't give me that look, Ulle-Shi. I know I had best not get too excited. None of my other plans have worked out." he says, leaning on the window ledge, his tone suddenly miserable. He peers off into the distance for a moment, before turning to the barrister again. "Sorry. I almost forgot. What was it that you wanted, Ulle-Shi?"[/ic]

OOC: Don't think there were any rolls to make there.

[Steerpike]

[ooc]Some rolls first, and then I'll write out my action.

Agility defense roll:

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

Attack roll (unarmed attack, medium):

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

Catena will expend one point from her Might Pool to apply Grit to her damage if her attack is successul, for a total of 7 points of damage.

Current Pools: Might 12/13, Agility 11/12, Intellect 7/7[/ooc]

[Steerpike]

[ic]Catena, taken off guard, winces as the ghul's powerful arms encircle her body, crushing her brutally.  Catena ignores the ghul's carrion fetor, innured to the smell of rancid flesh from years in the reeking slave-pits of Dolmen.  She flails, battering at the ghul's shoulders and neck with her fists, but the wind has been taken out of her.[/ic]

[ooc]Damn, bad rolls.  Adjusted pools (I'm assuming I didn't hit Ossifragant and so did not expend 1 Might for bonus damage):

Might 7/13, Agility 11/12, Intellect 7/7

I assume the six damage I was told to deduct included the -1 damage from my AC.[/ooc]