Burgles in the Night
Log Info
- Title: Burgles in the Night
- Emitter: Nemori
- Characters: Jay, Magpie, Nemori, Robert, Zofija
- Place: A02: Lower Trades District
- Time: Sunday, April 10, 2022, 9:28 PM
- Summary: It's darker than it should be in Robert's Smithy
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A02: Lower Trades District *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The Lower Trades District is the home of the working man of Alexandria. The Lower Trades is divided, unofficially, into two parts: that controlled by the gobbers, and that controlled by the khazad. The two areas stand in contrast, one with a strong, almost formal architecture and a predilection for blacksmiths, the other a mixture of propped-up rubble and gunpowder. The latter's started to grow however, and take form with the aid of the more structured Arvek Nar. Still, the two stand as uneasy neighbors, though the oruch more easily work both sides, often in the spirit of a friendly, if competitive, warriors' competition that's unique to Alexandria, itself.
Here, the "khazad section" boasts a number of blacksmiths, glass smiths, artifice shops, and basic taverns, as well as any number of trades shops and eateries. The sweet tinge of oil, iron, and spiced BBQ is everywhere. Shrines to Reos, or marks of the same, are found over most doorways, in homage to the khazad Mountain Father and World Smith.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Jay 5'9" 145 Lb Eaglefolk Male A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye. Magpie 3'4" 36 Lb Gnome Female A blond gnome woman wearing a motley of colors. Nemori 4'10" 110 Lb Mul'niessa Female A tall and slender, dark skinned elf. Robert 6'3" 235 Lb Human Male A middle-aged Cerenzan with a friendly, fatherly vibe. Zofija 5'8" 225 Lb Hobgoblin Female A well-dressed Arvek-Nar with a big hammer. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's later in the evening, that time when most of shops are closed for business, the eateries are in full swing, and the last of the taverns are finally opening. Of course, some few of the shops still show signs of occupancy; mostly tradesmen remaining to finish up orders. On particular smithy is dark, the owner not seeming to be present. It is mostly half walls, covered with a sturdy roof... meant to provide an abundance of airflow during operation of the smelter and the forge. Curiously, however, and easy to miss, a gate on the side of the compound swings back and forth slowly, the latch apparently broken.
"-- don't really have to," Bob promises with a look over his shoulder. His armor makes more noise than usual with the two 'fists tethered together like boxing gloves and dangling from his belt. "I just can't leave this mess for tomorrow... nevermind how much hard it'll be to clean I won't be able to sleep knowing it's there. You're free to get supper started... I can catch up."
The middle-aged man protests with little vigor; he's always happy for company and the comradery after a grim job is doubly-welcome.
"... Lady Nemori?" He calls, running his eyes over the dark smithy. A quick glance over the shoulder so he can explain with "my apprentice."
"It's ok! I can start supper." A bluejay egalrin trails the old artificer. His head pops around, "latch is broken." He says, then repeating it more firmly, "Bob, the latch is broken."
"Lady Nemori? Are you here?" He caws out.
The best reward for hard work done is not more hard work. That aphorism is for suckers.
The best reward for hard work done is pocket pies. Because, *obviously.* Also cinnamon glazed sweetrolls.
One of the latter of which is hanging half out of Magpie's mouth, as she weaves under the burden of a dozen of the former, carefully wrapped to keep hot. Cold pies are great, but hot savory pies? Something you could only get in Rune if you knew your Explosive Runes and had plenty of money for damages at the university canteen.
Familiar voices catch her ear, and the gnome very nearly loses her balance as she swings about to clap her eyes on Robert and Jay. The sound she makes is *probably* delighted, but around the sweetroll it sounds more like someone yelling against a gag.
Zofija, in clearly not the best shape, judging from the apparent paleness around most of her collection, and the much more obvious tears in most of her uniform caked with large amounts of blood was walking along with the others. While she was going to leave for the temple of Vardama to alert them, she wished to stop by the colosseum district for a bath at the tarrace beforehand for undisclosed reasons. And a trip through the markets gave her a chance to look for some less torn clothes at the same time, as well.
"Your gate is broken Robert? That's not good." The Arvek-nar sighs. I'm not in much shape to be going tossing burglar skulls around, so if you need someone to go let the town guard know, just save the word."
Nemori doesn't answer. Perhaps she's not there? She's supposed to be. But one can never tell with those transients. The gate creaks slightly as it slowly swings closed, the proceeds on its swinging journey inside.
GAME: Magpie rolls perception: (10)+6: 16 GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (4)+3: 7 (Zofija blames the blood loss) GAME: Jay rolls perception: (11)+12: 23 GAME: Robert rolls Perception: (6)+7: 13
There's some scuffling sounds inside. Maybe a stray dog taking advantage of the unsecured gate, sniffing around?
It also seems a bit darker inside the smithy than outside. Probably just the roof blocking the street lighting, but it still seems a bit off.
Stepping inside, Robert takes the tether of his 'fists and sets them to dangling on either side of an anvil. There's a quick glance at the gate as he passes, then he's reaching up to snag flint and steel from above a joist elbow. "Can't imagine the burglars would find anything worthwhile; I don't leave my tools here, the forge is fixed, and the anvil is heavier than it's worth..."
The Cerenzan takes a half-used torch up off the low wall and tucks it under his arm, striking the flint and steel until he has it lit. He turns slowly, moving the light of the torch over the forge as he drops the firestarting kit into a beltpouch.
So distracted by the mystery that he hasn't noticed the pastry-laden gnomess.
The egalrin is tired, the aftermath of his earlier adrenaline rush has left him subdued if not exactly exhaused. Something makes the bird's head twitch. Another twitch. Especially when Robert walks right in. "Bob! Bob! Something is in the smithy! Scuffling or fighting! It's too dark. Look!"
It does seem a bit darker inside than out, once it is pointed out. It could be the roof blocking the street lighting, though the torch will reveal all soon. Integrity's reflexes remain faster than his wisdom and he flaps in after his friend. "I'm sure I heard something. Be careful Bob."
As the flint is struck and flame takes to the torch, there is something very odd indeed. A corner of the smithy remains shrouded in darkness despite the artificer's attempt to illuminate the compound.
No answer. Also, a mystery. Only one answer to both conundrums; Magpie totters up behind Jay, more curious than considerate, and sets her burden on the lane with a heavy *thump.*
"Hff Jph. Fup?"
Pause. That probably didn't come out as langu--ah. Pastry. Removing the delicious vocal block, she pauses, smacks her lips, and tries again. "Hey, Jay. What's up?"
"And do the burglars have psychic powers to see through walls or something? Forges usually mean weapons or tools and valuable metal." Zofi g runts. "But, you aren't dissuaded, are you."
The Arvek-nar takes the hammer off her back, and pales even further, which ends with her leaning the massive head on the ground to lean on the handle. "Yeah, I aint helping you much right now Robert, you better know what you're doing. Specially if people are hiding with magic here."
"... sound advice," Bob agrees with a look back at Zofija and Jay, both. He nods 'hello' to Magpie, then, when he notices her behind the egalrin before returning to his mystery. The torch is brought closer to the blotted darkness, probing the edges of it.
"... Lady Nemori?" he tries again. He waves Jay forward and hands off the torch, "keep it high-- but not in the roof," he instructs. Then the Cerenzan crouches and picks up the broom, inspects it and leans it against the low wall.
The Cerenzan's hand goes to his sledge but he doesn't take the hammer off its loop. "My name's Bob," he smiles at the darkness, grunting as he lowers himself down to a knee. "If you're hungry or thirsty, I have refreshments. I have a spare coat if you're cold. If you've hurt my friend... well, I've already had a bit of a bad day. So I hope for both our sake's you haven't..."
Integrity takes the torch and holds it high, but not in the roof. He keeps checking the distance. He moves around Robert, to see what he's found and give him more space. The bluejay looks over his shoulder at Magpie, "Hi, I don't know. Lady Nemori lives here, but..."
A glance at Zofija, then back to watching the darkness, "I don't think that's her. We have cake. Well, Maggie has cake."
"Pie," Magpie corrects, pulling away a bit of sweetroll and stuffing it into her mouth. When done, she continues. "There's a pie-maker a couple blocks away, people actually like *talk about* how good he is. So I got enough to last half the week. Want one? There's a steak and gravy one you might like, it smells like he uses wine in the gravy."
Pause. Wind back the conversation. "...Who's Nemori? And if she lives here, why does it look like you three are on a job?"
Something flashes in the torch light as it spins out of the darkness, missing Robert by a hairsbreadth to bury itself in a structural post behind him. This is followed by a dark form bursting out of the corner. A blade is drawn, but the figure tries to dash past anyone in the smithy. A few seconds later, a second form emerges by vaulting over the halfwall into the street, crouching to catch their bearing.. and carrying a dark, somewhat sinister looking staff.
"Some mul'niessa who I heard lives here." Zofi grunts. "I don't know if she's around or what, or left something here. Muls have some sort of inate shadow magic that they can use, just something they're capable of. But I don't know if they caused whatever this is or not."
"I really hope that if the person who broke that fence is still around, they're willing to listen to reason. If you're hungry I'd take them all up on their offers."
There's a clatter and a bark of alarm when Robert falls back from the thrown blade. "Over the wall and into the city is the safest place you could be right now!" The big man blusters through gritted teeth.
Hands that look too-small in his armored suit take a rounded cylinder off of his belt. He pulls a pin and thrusts it forward, green energy pulsing once before the device chirps a scream in Kulthina. "Blinded me... WITH SCIENCE!" It goes before a massive blast of rainbow colors sprays out into the air before the supine Cerenzan. <Kulthian>
GAME: Robert casts Color Spray. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
"Wait! Wait! Stop!" Jay ducks out of the way as the blade flies, then ducks a different way as the rainbow spray shoots out of the smithy. Twitchy, instinctively, a pair of bolas from his belt-loop are in his hand. He's spinning them without thinking, prey is moving away! His awareness catches up with his readiness... and he decides to throw.
He aims low at the shadows, and the bolas miss, bouncing away on the cobblestones as the points ping. Sparks fly. "Bob... think you could make me some of those without spikes?"
"Too late they're here too!" Magpie pipes up, dropping the uneaten half of the sweetroll onto the cobbles. Time to mourn departed pastry later, trouble now. "You stay put you little shadebooger!" One tiny hand curls into a claw, passing over the skin of her opposite shoulder as though gathering invisible fibers. Her catch, glowing a faint, pale green, is rolled between her hands, growing darker and more solid, until an opaque green-brown blob of something rests in her palm. Rearing back, she lobs the ball at the staff-bearing figure on the street... But it lands only a bit wide, splorting out over the stones and beginning to sizzle.
"Damn it!"
The figure within the smithy has no chance to dodge; they slam right into the colour spray, then tumble to the ground as the magic knocks them senseless. The one in the street looks at Magpie, holding the staff in one hand while drawing forth a rapier with the other.. the street lighting revealing distinctly elfin features. His teeth bare in a snarl, but then there's a noise from the darkness. Words, a cross between lyrical and guttural. The staff bearer opts to take off at a run. A second later there's a grunt inside the darkness, a gasp, coughing and hacking sounds.
"Wait! Ah, shit, that was a knife." The Arvek-nar realizes much too late, after everything was thrown around. She attempts to move, which only leads to her stumbling in place and shoving her hammer more into the ground.
"The hell they trying to do in here, anyways? And who's that still in there? If you try anything funny, I'll really not do anything because it's your lucky day, but the others might have less luck for you."
"Nemori is in the dark, IC, pull her out--" and the Cerenzan is tossing the wand at the egalrin's feet and scrabbling across the forge's floor on his hands and knees towards the stunned assailant.
The Cerenzan reaches for the stranger's hair and takes a fist-full, pulling up to consider their features before driving them down towards ruin against the stone floor. He's trying to dismiss the snarl and the urge to slam the man's head a second time. The knuckles holding a handful of hair go white.
"Careful Bob, that might be ... oh, it is? Okay" Jay chirps, hopping in place and looking around the smithy for something to use as a weapon when he has a perfectly good rapier on his hip.
This is abandoned as he dives into the shadows, feeling around for the mul'niessa
"There was a crazy street-person that came after her yesterday. He coughed a coin at her. Maybe this is related." He works blind, carefully feeling around in case Nemori is injured... or feeling stabby. "Nemori, it's me! Me! Integrity. Don't stab me. It's ok."
"Yeah you better run!" Magpie calls out after the fleeing shadowed stabby-staffy thing. Loosing a huff, she looks down at her feet, and only now does the full tragedy of her demolished dessert fall home. "Oh, Cinny, you were too pure for this world. I shall avenge-- wait."
Rising on her tiptoes to little real effect, she cups her hands over her mouth. "Everything all right in there? Need help with anything?"
And while she waits for an answer, a completely other thing to worry about! "You look like you still don't have all your blood," she says to Zofija, cracking open the lid of each box in turn and taking a deep sniff of its contents. Finding the right one, she hefts it up and turns, holding it out to the Arvek proudly. "Here, liver and heart with garlic and pepper! If that doesn't put blood back in your body, you were probably a vampire already."
The egalrin does indeed manage to find and pull out a body... it's not Nemori. It's yet another dark, cowled figure. Once cowled. The hood has been pulled away, revealing long black hair, pale skin. Reddish eyes. Mul. One of his ears is shorter than the other, and bleeding. A nasty looking wire drops from his hands. A moment later Nemori stumbles out, coughing, mouth bloody, dagger gripped so hard her fingers are white like Robert's. It takes her a moment to see where her assailant has gone; when she spies him, her scream embodies rage itself as she launches herself at him and into him, dagger stab stab stabbing. Meanwhile, the sword and staff elf runs, abandoning his comrades.
"Hope he know's what he's doing." Zofi grunts when the man disappears into the darkness "Right, weird ill guy who needed to see a cleric something fierce. Hope he's doing alright and had nothing to do with this."
"And yeah, being stabbed in the gut by a sword has that effect on your blood sometimes." The Arvek-nar sighs,reaching for the pastry. Which falls to the ground when two bodies exit the darkness, and one is stabbing the other. "Hey, easy, easy! Fucker's not going to be able to kill you right now for whatever reasons he had, so don't return to the favor. Toss him to the guards, not worth the trouble of dealing with a dead body." The arvek-nar shouts, not really able to do anything in the way of more active intervention at the moment.
"Ah!" The bluejay squawks as he pulls out a body, but not the one he was expecting. His beak opens in confusion. It snaps closed loudly when Nemori emerges, stabbing. Stabbing. Over and over in an unbridled rage.
"No." He stares, seeing the holes form in the body, seeing the blood well up. Feeling droplets spattering on him, on his face, as the spray comes off the dagger. He can taste Mul'niessan blood. "No. No! Nonononono!"
It's too much for the flightly young lawyer, he reels back as his composure comes crashing down. "Stopstopstop! It's murder! I'm not a murderer!"
He flaps out of the smithy, panic overwhelming and flees down the street. His distant crowing is heard long after he is out of sight, "Murder! Murder! Murder most fowl!"
"Integrity!" Bob calls at the egalrin's back, snapping out of his angry daze. The sound of wet tearing draws his eyes to the butchering and he manages a last surge of energy. He forgets his mallet and scrambles up to a three-point stance, lunging the short distance to tackle Nemori off of the corpse.
"Steady, girl. Steady! They're done." He uses his weight to pin the woman, hoping his armored plates are enough to keep the dagger at bay. "... you're safe now," he soothes, looking back at the bloodied ex-mul.
"Oh no," Magpie murmurs, watching Jay tear off down the lane. "...Someone should really check on him, soon. I... don't think today was a very good day for him."
Not that it was for any of them, but one can spot the more delicate sensibilities pretty well, when the blood starts flying. "Seriously though, what's going on in there?!"
Nemori has no chance. She was too focussed on her task of ending her assailant that she is taken completely offguard by Robert's tackle. A few precious seconds pass as she struggles for breath; she's not being crushed. It's the wind, knocked out of her. But the adrenaline surging through her, fueled by anger and, yes, panic gets her struggling soon enough. And while her state does lend her strength beyond what her frame suggests she should have, she's no match for the combination of position, leverage, weight and strength that the smith has over her.
As she struggles, Nemori casts a panicked gaze everywhere she can reach in her compromised position. Oblivious to Jay's trauma and retreat, she's searching, seeking.. and then, "Where is he?!! Where is Tal?!?!" If she's aware she has an audience, she doesn't show it. Her awareness of just who it is holding her down might even be in question.
The bubble of darkness in the corner fades. It reveals nothing spectacular, aside from signs of obvious struggle on the floor and a few spots of blood.
Zofi turns as the egalrin runs off, but any attempt to stop him or react is insufficient in her current state, and the Arvek-nar sighs. "Yeah, this was an awful lot for him real quick. Can you check on the other one? I'd do it myself, but, I'm not in the best shape to react if he tries to attack me in the process."
She does however step closer to the commotion, dragging the hammer with her until she can rest on it again. "You have explaining to do about this. You put someone here at risk if you were being hunted by something."
"I don't know who that is, lady," Bob admits, tired. He rises to his hands and knees carefully, struggling up to his feet after a pause to catch his breath. "One got away, I grabbed one, thought I heard another outside, and..." he nods at the corpse.
The Cerenzan looks across the way to Zofija and shakes his head, "I invited her; it's my forge. I have no interest in holding her accountable if someone's tried to kill her while she stays here," he sighs.
"We need to call the watch," the Cerenzan adds with another look at Nemori before he kneels down to look after a man who's sure to be dead. "They have a prisoner to take in and you need to tell them what happened."
At this, Magpie pauses, then looks at her packages. Picking up Zofija's pie, she places it on the top of the stack, then hefts the whole pile up, leaving the sweetroll in the street. Wobbling her way toward the smithy, she sets the boxes back down outside the door, and leans in. "So uh... I'm a friend of Bobert's, there. I just want to check on the prisoner, and I'd really rather not be stabbed if you don't mind. Also are you hungry? I have dinner pies, I can share."
"My staff, he's my..." Words sink in. She still can't see the staff. One got away. "No." She stares at muscular Arvek-Nar, but the soldier woman's words don't seem to penetrate Nemori's thoughts. "Nonono.." Then she lets out a wail of despair as she collapses back into the floor, back arching as if in physical pain. She's probably not ready for pie. But at least the knife isn't in her grasp anymore; it lays forgotten, at least for the moment, a few feet away.
And as it turns out, her 'victim' is still alive. At least Robert is convinced of it as he works swiftly to activate another of his artifice gadgets to infuse the punctured elf with artifice healing. Then adds some good old fashioned first aid to staunch the bloodflow.
The arvek-nar sighs, and walks the last of the way until she can stoop down to pick up the dagger and hand it to Robert. "Just give this back to her when it's not a risk. I'm not saying hold her accountable, I'm just saying, I don't expect mul'niessa to attack mul'niessa for no reason. Should at least have some heads up."
She steps back, stretches, and sighs, putting the hammer away. "I'm going to go see if I can find some of the watch. Then hopefully Tegri out there. And then a very long bath to hopefully take some of the exhaustion out. And I guess a cleric too, if that one is still alive like I thought he might be."
