Goldbell's Echo
Log Info
- Title: Goldbell's Echo
- Emitter: Jinks
- Characters: Dolan, Jay, Zofija, Nemori
- Place: A02: Lower Trades District
- Time: Saturday, April 09, 2022, 9:58 PM
- Summary: With its master under lock and key awaiting trial, the Goldbell Estate in the lower trades district is vacant and serving as something of an idle attraction. The bored and/or curious might be interested at what the home of an accused infernalist looks like-- and it's cheaper than a show at the theatres! Who's to say what might happen when lookie-loos gather on a pleasant Ceriday evening..?
Jay is trying to gain access to the grounds, interested in the fate of Grinder Goldbell after being directly involved in his arrest and indictment. Dolan is shopping nearby and Nemori is curiously eyeing the vacated estate. Things take a turn as two members of the crowd get into a brief altercation; a rambling homeless man is accusing a well-dressed-but-haggard Veyshanti of being 'tainted.'
The Veyshanti knows Jay and seeks to hide behind the lawyer while the madman casts a wide net at many of the assembled. Zofija arrives and joins the attempts to reason with the sick half-Sil. The Veyshanti sees his opportunity for escape and takes it. The homeless man has a peculiar fit and loses consciousness. Dolan collects the ill individual and carries him to the Soldier's Defense.
Jay, Nemori, and Zofija linger to discuss matters further. There's no obfuscation at all! Everyone is honest and forthcoming. Totally.-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* 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.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dolan 5'10" 174 Lb Human Male Brown-haired human with scars down his face. Jay 5'9" 145 Lb Eaglefolk Male A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye. Zofija 5'8" 225 Lb Hobgoblin Female A well-dressed Arvek-Nar with a big hammer. Nemori 4'10" 110 Lb Mul'niessa Female A tall and slender, dark skinned elf. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Goldbell Estate has been something of a constant through modern Alexandrian history. It survived the reign of Altima, the Witch Queen and the occupation of foreign miltiaries only getting bigger and more grand over its three-hundred year lifespan. Humble when compared to the grand grounds and manses of the noble's quarter, plopped down in the middle of the lower trades it's an impressive sight.
A simple grass garden that's just-begun to overgrow sets the building back from the cobblestone streets with a stone walkway leading up to the front double-doors. The front of the two-storey building is primarily constructed of a dark wood broken up with tall, shuttered windows. A white-washed belfry crowns the building and hosts a gold-plated bell the size of a plump halfling.
The front doors and a side gate are both chained heavily and locked. A pair of posted notices also mark the grounds as sealed and off-limits pending the conclusion of an investigation. The seal of the Alexandrian city watch and a Daeusite stamp legitimize both documents.
It is a cool-but-pleasant evening with no sign of Eluna in the dark sapphire sky above. Very few stars poke through the drifting cloudcover. The breeze is lazy.
Much of the interest in the building has dulled so long after Grinder's arrest but a few folk still idle nearby and gossip or pause in passing to gawp.
There are a lot of places to acquire most adventuring tools and requirements, but for some things, one just has to go to the Lower Trades. Dolan, fully armed and armored, is just returning from one such searching, emerging from the shop of one of the more - we'll call them noted - alchemists in the gobber section of the Lower Trades, carefully closing and securing a plain wooden box. He carries the box down the street a ways, but pauses in front of the gates long enough to tuck the box safely into the bottom of the backpack on his back, over the blade secured to his back by a harness.
Flapping around out front of the gate is a white, black and blue egalrin. He seems oddly puffed up, and is wearing a three piece leather suit and carrying a briefcase. In addition to looking odd, he is acting odd, rushing up to the chains and rattling them, hopping back a few feet, looking around, peering into the grounds and at the windows of the building, before approaching to see if somehow the lock has mysteriously un-done itself in the intervening moments.
"Hello! Hello! Is there anyone in there? Hello." He caws loudly, head twitching as he listens for response, looks for movement, before he stares and transfers his case to his other hand.
Nemori is one of the gawkers, though she's not so much gawking as staring at the gates as if she can peer through them. While the other folks standing nearby tend to be in pairs or more, chatting with each other, sharing their rumours, suggesting wildly unlikely theories, she stands apart from them, idly twirling a parasol over her shoulder as if she expects it to rain. She notes Dolan's arrival with a glance intended to determine if his interest is in her or not; deciding the later, she looks back at the gates.. just in time to hear Jay's arrival. She is torn; it's apparent she's familiar with the egalrin, but doesn't seem ready to hail him just yet.
Dolan's interest does not appear to be in the mul'niessa at all, so much as the box which he is most carefully tucking into his backpack. When it is safely stowed, he looks up, to find Nemori staring at him, and the one chocolate-brown eye blinks. "Yes, miss?" he asks, politely enough.
He straightens up and takes a good look around, at the legal egalrin flapping up and down at the locked and posted gate, at the gawkers and bystanders and gossipers. He turns his head fully towards the locked and posted gate, frowning. "I don't think there's anyone in there right now," he calls to Jay.
Jay caused enough of a flap so he stops, the bluejay egalrin becoming one of the crowd without interacting with the crowd. He hugs his briefcase to his chest as his wings fold down and his stare into the grounds lingers. Slowly his beak drops open, then snaps closed with a clack.
His head turns, to look away more than to look for who called out. He notices Dolan and straightens, stiffens. "I... I know."
Another head twitch and he spots Nemori. His feather-crest raises and his beak opens again. The caw stays in his throat, and his beak clicks closed again. His drops, he looks down. "I was hoping to find out what happened."
What seemed like a quiet conversation not far from Dolan escalates quickly and a dark-skinned, coastal Veyshanti man is sent tumbling to the ground tangled in his bright robes and dark cloak. His exclamatory shout was enough to draw a few looks from those on the street. "Why would you--?!" he accuses from the ground, one arm raised in an effete attempt to ward off further assault. A ring of stubble crowns his bald pate to match his scruffy facial hair but his clothes are too new for him to be a vagrant.
His attacker makes no move to close the distance conjured between them by the shove. A half-Sil by the blunted point of his ears, the other half of the physical conflict looms and makes a herky-jerk gesture of dismissal with a bony arm. He has a frantic energy about him, his face and brown-blonde hair dirty enough to make his age impossible to guess. THIS is a street person.
"This- this... this one! This one has the taint of the worm. A worm tainted and tainted with taint! The mark of-- HKKRGHrmmmm," he chokes, spittle spraying from between split lips and brown, rotted teeth. "Un-nutter-able. Able unuttered... unutterababbled. Heh, heheh..! Filth!" He spits, drawing another flinch and cry of alarm from the Veyshanti man. The madman stumbles back, his feet wrapped in rags slapping on the stone street as he jitters and gestures grandly at the estate. The wide sweep of his meatless arm nearly sends him falling over.
"Burn, burn, burn it down!" He sobs.
Folks begin to murmur...
Nemori's face freezes a moment, only just realizing she'd turned to look at Dolan again. A quick intake of breath marks her recovery, however, and her expression.. well, it feels a little bit like she's looking down her nose, so to speak, despite the massive difference in height between her and the swordsman. "You had the look of a.. well, I was mistaken. Pay it no mind." Words quite obviously accented, her tradespeak considerably more formal than it would be for someone raised to it. Before she can say more, if she was even inclined to, the madman's commotion draws her attention away. The parasol stops spinning as she gets a better look at him. "Integrity... stay away from that man."
One eyebrow climbs at the accent, and the attitude evident in the reply. What is left of Dolan's other eyebrow - which is less an eyebrow than scarred skin over a browbone - lifts a little, but the expression is lost in scar tissue. He does not, however, have time to take umbrage, or even make a fuller response, as a fracas starts. He straightens up and stares _hard_ at the half-sil. "Integrity, if the postings are right, I'd check the jail for the occupant."
He doesn't look at the egalrin, though, maintaining that hard stare. "There's no need for violence," he says warningly to those murmuring.
"I... Nemori! Bryddion! No. I mean, yes." Integrity is looking at one, the other, hopping forward, jumping back, and the squawks very loudly at the crowd, "there is no need to burn the estate! That is completely illegal and there will be repercussions. Stop!"
He stands big and stern, egalrin-gazing before he relaxes and steps towards the Veyshanti while warily addressing the half-sil street person. "That's hearsay, what evidence do you have?" He holds out a hand to the thin man to help him up. "Goshtasb, are you needing help?"
Of the market districts, the lower markets were much more likely to be cheaper for finding goods. So if there were goods to be bought, it was the first place that a certain Arvek-nar would go. Folks were less picky about their produce, and competition was enough to drive many prices down. So the Arvek-nat har had gotten a steal on a few sacks of potatoes and what appeared to be a quarter of a butchered cow from the shape of the other bag slung over her shoulder.
The lazy path took her past the unexpected show in the district, which made her stop and shake her head. "Hey Tegri, good to see you. Please wrap it up folks, if you have bad blood between you, bring it up to the town guard. Squabbling like this isn't going to solve anything." She greets and pivots into addressing the commotion.
"YOU!" The Veyshanti has taken notice of Jay now as he's wiping the spit off of his face. He scrambles to get his feet underneath him but his robe and cloak and tangled eight ways to Eliday. He does manage to point and bluster, "This is all your fa--ACK!" And he's flinching after the madman surges forward again and kicks him in the backside.
"NO, YOU!" The half-Sil shouts, hopping over the prone houseman and stumbling towards Dolan, slapping one red-knuckled and gnarled hand over one side of his face. There's a button wedged between his third- and fourth-fingers, held over his eye. "Bleeeegh!" he mocks, sticking out a tongue covered in white film and sores.
He side-steps and trips on his own foot to stumble when Zofija arrives. "'No, none-- no, no need for violins!'" he tells the Arvek Nar from the ground, still holding the button over his eye.
Goshtasb takes the egalrin's aid and stands, putting the leather-clad jay between he and the street person.
Well, so much for that, Nemori realizes, her face twisting in displeasure. She half turns away, as if to leave everyone to whatever they plan to do, be it scuffle, riot, shout loud words.. or calm the heck down as Dolan, Integrity and now the Arvek-nar are so demanding. She hesitates to take the first step away, however, and that delay proves costly. The half-sil is on the move, cutting her off however accidentally.. and one look at the man convinces her she has no wish to get anywhere near him. Her nose wrinkles in distaste, and she puts a finger up to her nose as if to help block out a nasty smell. "Why should we burn it down?"
_She isn't wrong about this one,_ Dolan decides, the crude but clear imitation of his own face prompting a grimace that could was easily be ascribed to foul smells. "None at all," he tells the man. "You look like you need clothes and a bath far more than you need to be starting a riot." Blunt, isn't he? "Pipe down and let it go, and I'll see to it you get both."
"I know! It's not! It was Khepri's fault!" Jay chatters rapidly, holding onto Goshtasb's forearms with both hands, steadying him and keeping himself between the man and the street-sil as he attempts to explain, "Except not really! It was a group effort. The gardener had a demon inside him, did you know that? It was a ... a... Tricuspid, ... a Trip. Allegedly!"
Integrity attempts to move the Veyshanti away from another lunge. "Muscles! Hi. Hello. Hi. Help! Um... keep doing what you're doing, that's working."
"I can explain." Integrity tells everyone, "Grinder Goldbells had an infernal contract, allegedly, but the house is just a house and even a bad person deserves due process!" The bluejay is frantic when he asks Goshtasb, "the investigation, is he in jail like Dolan says? Was he executed. What happened after we left?"
"If you keep losing that word it's going to lose all sense of meaning." Zofija grumbles, and sighs, stepping a bit forward to hopefully be more imposing. "But, seems people here had something to do with this. And if you're dealing with demons taking over people, then this isn't something to just take out on the streets. You aren't going to see it handled and fixed if you just try to beat someone up, the egalrin is right. "You've got a mouth, use it for talking instead of making funny faces, and maybe we can do something constructive here."
"Raze!" The madman challenges, nose wrinkling in a snarl. His rag-wrapped feet struggle for purchase and the button clatters away when he makes to stand. He's missing toes. Blood smears across the floor from somewhere; probably one of the many sores you can see through the tattered cloth. "Raise, raise..." he makes it to his feet and moves to lean unpleasantly Dolan. Sniff. It would be a wonder if he were able to smell anything through his own malodorous aura.
Sniff, sniff. "Rays. His light..." the half-Sil calms for a moment, considering the inquisitor.
Goshtasb, meanwhile, blinks at Jay, unable to process the lawyer's ejaculatory explanation. He, too, pauses for just a heartbeat and then shoves the egalrin towards Dolan and the madman before beating a hasty retreat. "I didn't do anything..!"
"Filth!" Growls the madman, turning his head but catching Nemori in his sightline on the pivot. Sniff. "... taint," he leers.
Nemori bristles.. she somehow manages to look even more haughty, for a moment, as she regards the half-sil. Before it was just an air of mildly repelled wariness. Now it's outright disdain. "I beg your pardon." she says, words clipped, scathing. "You know nothing of me. You had best watch your tongue." Her hand falls to the simple knife at her belt. "Lest I cut it out and feed it to you."
The bluejay staggers a few steps as he's shoved away by Goshtasb. He ends up closer to Nemori, and her current accuser. "Hey! Stop sniffing for her taint!"
Yes, Integrity is just the person you want to defend your honour. Especially after an effort has already been made.
He completely misses Nemori's knife. He flaps his wings at the haf-sil to look bigger, or at least, aggressively goose-like. Another aspect that pairs badly with taints.
"It's entirely the correct usage Muscles. Asserting the contract exists without certified proof would be... well it's not quite perjury but it's close."
Demons. Dolan's blood runs cold at the mention of infernal contracts, and he freezes, for a moment losing track of everything else swirling around him. At least, that is, until the madman crashes into him in a cloud of stink that is impossible to ignore, not to mention the lean. "Let the lady be. His light will protect you." Think fast. "Come on. Let's get you looked at." He turns, making another face as more of that cloud wafts into his nostrils, but trying to steer the madman away from all of the others and in the direction of the Soldier's Defense.
"Alright, alright, just stop with your business. Clearly you aren't in your right mind, whether from illness or something else, so you really should go check into the soldier's defence. Whether that is with guard escort or not it up to you in the matter." Zofija grumbles.
"That's not to say I believe the other side unconditionally, but this is going nowhere fast at the moment."
"What? You cut at me? There's no hope of that. HAH!" The madman animates again to challenge Nemori, weakly flailing as Dolan tries to steer him. "What false ho--kk--" and his face twists, spittle frothing between his rotting teeth. He stretches his chin up, clawing at his own throat as he falls against the inquisitor, wheezing.
Tremors take him as his eyes roll back to show full, bloodshot whites in Jay's direction. His mouth opens and closes like a fish stranded on dry land. Dirty fingers with broken nails dive in between his teeth and he crumples down hard onto his knees.
The heaving and coughing begins. His rags shift to expose a bruise- and sore-riddled flank of the diseased and emaciated. A final, explosive cough and a metal object bounces, glittering across the cobbles. It rolls quietly while the madman sucks in greedy lungfulls of air.
A single gold coin of foreign mint comes to a stop between Nemori's feet and falls flat.
"... come back to me," a low, longing voice slinks out from the man. Then he falls unconscious to the floor.
The knife is halfway out, Nemori mistaking the man's gyrations as an attempted lunge in her direction.. then she completes it, half-snarling, as if angry at her reflexive motion. And then he ejects the coin and her eyes follow it. Identification is plain on her face, and if anything it only intensifies the rage. She steps on it, then kneels to pick it up. A moment to inspect it, flipping it over to examine both sides, then she growls and turns, throwing it over the walls into the compound. "Lunatic," she finally says, turning to face the unconscious man. "Completely mad."
Dolan's eyes seek out Nemori, and then J, for a brief minute as the madman animates again, but reaches to control him. It's a move that quickly turns to supporting him, the inquisitor utterly lost for words at the direction this is taking. He seems to not to know what do, outside of that, but just nods mutely to Zofija. "He's out of his head and needs a doctor's care. I'll take him."
The full gaze turns to Jay. "I want to know more about this supposed demon contract." Dead seriousness. "I'll find you later." The diseased man slumped on the floor is his primary focus now, and he leans down to pick the man back up, hoisting him across the other shoulder in a fireman's carry as he turns for the Soldier's Defense. "Brightest of days to all of you."
Shiny! Movement! Integrity's head whips to follow the coin as it arcs and lands at Nemori's feat, is handled, then thrown into the compound. His beak drops open in surprise, "I didn't know humans kept coins in their craw too! Or is it an elf thing? Do you have a coin craw?"
"Okay!" He answers Dolan, bobbing his head, "He's got some terrible sores, he needs a lot of treatment. Thanks for handling him." He watches as they depart.
The bluejay's feathers ruffle as he tucks in his wings, making him look like a ball of a bird. His head keeps popping from person to person in the crowd, and back at the estate. "Anyone have any information?" He asks.
Zofi watches, winces, and ultimately sighs as the person manages to knock him out. "Better you than me, he might make my meat spoil if I carried him too close next to it." The Arvek-nar grunts to Dolan before he is off. "Hopefully whatever it is is treatable. But people don't go and eat coins here, no. Didn't seem in his right mind, might have lead to that."
"I can't say I know much about this situation. If you know what lead up to him assaulting you like that, just let us know."
Only the most macabre rubberneckers remain at this point. The poor make people uncomfortable. The mentally ill moreso. The Goldbell Estate quickly went from a quick place to gawk and gossip to a display of reality and hardship that most don't care to endure. The few that do remain just shake their heads and back away as Jay tries to engage them for information.
They want to watch the show; they don't want to be in it.
Nemori doesn't put her knife away until Dolan has hauled the broken man a good distance away. When she does the action is very deliberate. Her lips are still curled, though they resemble more of a sneer than a snarl, now.. at least until the takes another moment, and a breath, to wrest control over her expression again. "He was mad," Nemori repeats, her voice cool and even now, as a response to Zofija. "Broken." She takes up her parasol again, resting it over her shoulder. "Better he just die before he infects anyone else with his madness."
The bluejay watches the crowd as they disperse and deny knowledge. He step-steps in place, looking at Zofija, then Nemori. His eyes linger on the mul'niessa's expression, his beak opening and closing slightly a few times before he finally speaks.
"Did you recognize that coin?" He moves his briefcase into his opposite hand, "Is the Smithy working, for lodgings? Do you need anything else."
Integrity gazes in the direction Dolan departed, "One of the demons escaped us, and there were two clerics they had tricked and an infection that wouldn't go away. They had been interfering with the Goldbell estate."
The jay runs his hand over his feather crest, smoothing it down, "that guy might have been insane, but he might have known something, or seen something. He threw around a lot of accusations that might get followed up on by that investigation."
"Be very careful what you say to authorities. It will be used against you."
"Could be insane, could be delirious from whatever that illness was. Whether the intent was there or not is the question. That illness which could have been cause by the fiend in question, if it escaped."
"I'm not talking to the guard unless I can help it, I try to avoid business needing me to do that. It's a good practice."
"I got no clue where that coin is from, or what's going on aside from what I've been told. Just happened to be walking by, really."
Nemori looks at Jay, then shakes her head, looking straight at him. "No," she says simply. Then she relaxes a little bit, giving her chin a little bit of a nod. "It is not what I was once accustomed to, but I believe it may in fact be more comfortable than the inn I stayed in. And it is dry. And somewhat private." The last seems important. She manages to keep her expression from souring again as the topic of the madman seems like it won't go away. "Well. I am happy to have nothing further to do with him. In fact, I believe it is time for me to retire. I would rather not be mistaken for a burglar entering Robert's smithy."
GAME: Nemori rolls bluff: (15)+7: 22 GAME: Jay rolls sense motive: (6)+8: 14
"Okay," Jay takes what is said at face value, holding Nemori's gaze. He looks at the estate when she raises the spectre of burglary. The gate is chained, but the skies are free. It wouldn't be too hard to glide in.
Not that the extravagant elgarin gives any indication of having these thoughts.
He scrapes at the cobblestones with a talon. "It was a simple job, we were hired to find a stolen heirloom. Except the heirloom, the thieves, the servants and the master all had a lot more to them than it seemed, initially."
"Grinder GoldBells ... well, he's a legitimate businessman, allegedly. I don't think he was expecting Explorer's Guild members to be so thorough... and it might have turned into a death sentence for him." He looks down at his foot, scrapes another rock, managing to pry one out of the street. He nudges it back into position and steps on it, "I don't know if he would have hired us if he knew it would turn out this way. I don't know if I would have accepted the contract if I knew it too."
His head pops up, "I know! I'll go to the Tarrace for a birdbath!"
"Simple jobs have a way of being that, especially when they pay oddly well." Zofi shrugs. "You couldn't have known going in, hindsight is a lot better than normal sight, that's why people tend to focus on them sometimes."
The arvek-nar chuckles to herself, and shakes her head. "Yeah, a good bath takes your mind off of a lot of things. That's a good idea. As for me-"
She hefts the large bag on her shoulder.
"I gotta go make sure Screech is fed. It's good Robert has someone living with him. Maybe you can help him work less, he could probably use it."
"Oh, no, they aren't in the same place. Bob has his own house." Integrity corrects, "Oh, I hope Screech enjoys the food."
He hops from foot to foot, "Well, bye! See you later."
He flaps and flies off.
