"I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, but this is as natural as traveling through Parabola. These spiders had been enslaved by the Spider King, who had been obsessed with them, unhealthily even. I am sure this brought them great pain to be fused with them, and death was the only way for them to free themselves from that torture. At least this way, their deaths can aid us. Hopefully using them for good can redeem these spiders for what the Spider King wanted to use them for. Also, the books are all sorts, scientific journals, history books, even some geographical texts on the different islands. It is such a large collection, but I am sure it contains a good amount of material for us. Don’t worry, I don’t keep any grimoires or texts of madness in there."
edited by Koldun on 5/25/2016
[quote=Koldun]"I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, but this is as natural as traveling through Parabola. These spiders had been enslaved by the Spider King, who had been obsessed with them, unhealthily even. I am sure this brought them great pain to be fused with them, and death was the only way for them to free themselves from that torture. At least this way, their deaths can aid us. Hopefully using them for good can redeem these spiders for what the Spider King wanted to use them for. Also, the books are all sorts, scientific journals, history books, even some geographical texts on the different islands. It is such a large collection, but I am sure it contains a good amount of material for us. Don’t worry, I don’t keep any grimoires or texts of madness in there."
edited by Koldun on 5/25/2016[/quote]
"Well then, let us dig in." This phrase escapes their mouth as they open up the rather intimidating large chest to reveal a wide array of academic works, with old and dusty covers.
The Game-Carver opens up one of the top works, a small writing on the topic of Cryptopaleontology, and sits back down at their rightful chair.
Grabs a tome on The Flora and Fauna Of The North, and also sits back. Snaps his fingers, and a fireplace hidden in a corner lights up, bathing the building in warmth and light, the flames flickering, while a cold breeze is heard outside, rustling the autumn leaves.
Amelia holds a finger to wait before gesturing everyone else to continue on. As she reads off (and snickers still on the one name) she listens to the banter about her with ease, only once looking up when a certain lass leaves. She makes a mental note of the one so willing to flaunt herself about before refocusing again. But once the banter hits a more dramatic flow she sighs deeply. "Ya a right theater bunch ain’t ya?" She comments as she finally lowers the list to her lap. "No one 'ere has to do a thing they don’t want and like the good professor has stated there’s no need to rush ahead without first knowing every nook and cranny."
She stretches in her seat before continuing. "Ya asked about the one bloke. Gunter McCreedy or as everyone and their aunts call ‘em Two Tail. Bloke is a snivelin’ coward whose only talent is in pinching. But he tends ta swim with the higher ups and bend easily ta constables at a moments notice." She also knows that he lies and changes his last name for every day in a month. But she doesn’t mention that bit at the ready. "Not sure who he’s signin’ ta this time but you’re a sure fire bet there be trouble wiff him." She tucks the list in the envelop before handing it back. "Rest of it is ta usuals you find in the crevices o’ Spite. Few o’ em that were newly kicked off urchins, few no names with no ties, and some that barely got a leg ta stand on. Not really ta note til ya add Two Tail into the bunch though shouldn’t be a problem to make 'em squeal." She cracks her knuckles. "Unless no one wants ta do the dirty work I can easily find 'em wiff enough time to slosh through. Otherwise thas as much as I can make with this."
“You think Hell would afford better. . .maybe Hell considered this a suicide run?”
“Miss A____a, do the documents mention, or at least hint at, what mission Captain Wyrm was on? What cargo was on the ship?”
Rysiek: "Who says their religion was based on the bible? They appear insane. And you can base a religion on anything… I could proclaim a piece of cheese as god, bread as he Mesiah and a book full of recipes as the bible. And why does anything try to trap a random collection of people?"
If you did that, you would quote your book of recipes. Dante’s travels is a book based on Christian principles. A non-Christian fanatic would not quote it. But a Christian fanactic would not quote Dante, they would quote the Bible.
Rysiek: And why does anything try to trap a random collection of people?
That’s precisely what we do not know, and what is worrying.
Everyone is transported to the docks with the mirror device. After that, people start to sit down and read. The professor lets a huffy sigh and whispers to her bat: "D, go and fetch about ten good fliers from the Flock, and bring me Donna, too. Warn you-know-who that he should not try to contact me until further notice. I have lots of messages that need to be dispatched and not much time until those hyperactive people decide to run head first into unknown risks without a backup plan. They are dears, and promising youths, too; I do not anyone permanently dead or hurt. They do not have to suffer as I did."
She makes notes about what Amelia is talking about and carefully copy the contents of the envelope Koldun showed. Then, she starts to write quickly on small pieces of papers and fit them in tiny metal tubes. As she does, she mutters under her breath: "I have to put my crew on hold, so it is best to write them and ask them to be ready. This one is to that inconvenient devil in the Embassy, this one will find the Blind Cartographer, I guess, and this definitely should go to the Consumptive Cryptozoologist. Now, which favours should I pull in the Flit…?"
"Focused more on ta cargo’s owner than the actual cargo. But if’n you feel like brushing through it again, be my guest." She stretches as she stands up, another yawn passing through her lips. "Most of it seemed kinda tripe things to note. But usually better to have another set o’ eyes than nothing. As for me-" A grin curls up on her features. "I fink Lady Haymaker and Missus Windknocker have a date with a tailed bloke. You lot have fun wiff your adventures, might be faster might not. But I’ll venture back if’n I find something new." She tips her hat and starts to head out.
“Strange, how keen everyone is at leaving our quaint little meeting. How many are left now? 6 individuals total, yes? Let’s hope at least one of them finds something of interest.”
The Game-Carver takes the pile of paper and starts peering over it’s contents. After what might usually be considered ten minute, they move the heap away and admit defeat “Nothing interesting. Several crates of souls from the Khanate back to London. The trap theory seems the most plausible to me so far, as such a seemingly random array of actions, as witnessed in the recording, is implausible without proper set-up.”
"Wait, Amelia. You have connections, yes? If this ship went missing, Hell would obviously want to send another one, to make up for the loss. And I don’t think that any old ship hires on a crew of thieves, especially one so notorious. Its obvious the trip has another goal in mind, not just the transportation of souls. If they were near north, and they brought along thieves on the ship, they were most likely pulling some sort of heist, or else they would have hired a less suspicious crew. If they will be looking for a replacement, they will need a new master thief. Can you keep an eye on the criminal underworld and see if any thieves had any connection to Hell in the past few days? Or even now, do you know of any thieves of Two Tails’s caliber that joined up with a ship?
She stops just shy from the door. An exasperated sigh flows out her lips as she turns back, a bit annoyed but intrigued all the same. "Tails s’not what I call a notorious bloke. More like an aunt you’d leave ta devils or docks if you can help it. But I hear what ya sayin’. A ton o’ no names traveling north seems more than suspect ta me too. Problem is asking every sludged bloke if’n they have favors in hell is like digging through a pile o’ diamonds looking for water. Almost everyone underground worth their salt in the Neath has some connections with Hell. The bloody lot o’ em tends ta favor any that can pull off more than a few tricks in shadows or causes more than enough trouble. Tails not too different but getting to 'em is faster than pinching every cranny here."
She pulls her hat closer to her eyes. "Whether that leads me to some interesting nuggets of information o’ not… well I suppose smackin’ a lily livered leg trash for ta trouble is worth something."
“I have a poor mind for research, or abstractions – or Abstractions for that matter. I am made for action, not thought.” The Captain stands.
“As I also happen to Be a master-thief, though Hell has not approached me for work in the North – nor should I take their brass anyway, we . … have a complex relationship – well, let us grant I am qualified to seek out my compatriots.”
The Captain’s tiger rises up from the floor, to stand at their side. “I will go find out if there is anything going on. If there is word on the street I shall discover it. I have some suspicions already, but I would prefer proof before I commit them to voice – or at least some evidence. If I find anything I shall return with it.”
With that they stride out to the Docks, the tiger follows.
“Good luck, so, what about the rest of you? Do you wish to do a little field work as well?”
There was a gentle rap on the door, which swung open before it could be answered. A young woman strode in, hair disemboweled and shoes muddied. She quickly assessed the room, noting the dwindling members gradually taking their leave.
"Oh, dear." She said, in a rather congested voice, "It would appear I was a little late. The fellow with the tiger, he came by there, yes?" She gave a small sniff, and dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief, "I do beg your pardon. There was an unfortunate incident with a cursed mirror, and something about fungal allergies? I had to negotiate for an antidote, but it don’t appear to have kicked in yet. At any rate, I’m here now."
She was erratically dressed. Boots, a black frock, and rather ridiculous goggles. A white weasel curled around her thin shoulders, appearing to be fast asleep. She patted at her hair, trying in vain to readjust the lopsided bun.
Another sniffle.
"Ah, yes. Introductions. They call me V. Lady V. if you are feeling formal, but I really don’t mind otherwise. I found this carelessly crammed into my best riding boots." She held up a crumpled note with an index and middle finger, "I’m assuming it’s a friendly invitation, even if it was delivered in such secrecy. I’ve gathered a little renown for my silver tongue in Veilgarden and the Shuttered Palace, but I still consider academics to be of much higher importance."
She spoke rather fast.
“That is the kind of attitude we like to be common in the Association. Welcome. Take a seat”
Lots of bats enter the place and gather around the Professor (but only one of them lands on her - it hisses to the others that try to). She produces a little bag from her coat and gives each a cricket. While they eat, she ties the various tubes to their legs and sends them on their way. A particular big and mean-looking bat leaves a big cargo and plop itself on the Professor’s head, ignoring the protests of the bat on her shoulder. "Oh, hi, Donna!" The professor throws her a cricket, and the bat catches it in the air.
"Well, now I can get to do some field work. I have warned the Blind Cartographer that I will visit him, and I will take the map I use in my zailings. It could help if he hears the logs of Capitain Wyrm, so we can try to pinpoint exactly where all happened. Just in case Absimiliard got the wrong place when they didn’t find the island or if it happened someplace else than the Look-Out. I made some enquires to the Consumptive Cryptozoologist about animals that could or could not make the weird sounds we heard, and I asked a Rubbery friend of mine what could cause them to catch fire. If I ever get some answer, I will share of course. Is there any other errand that someone want me to do in the way? And, of course, I welcome company. The bats do not bite. If you do not try to pet them."
“You seem to be quite keen to send everyone away, founder. Just what are you going to do while we wander in search of clues? If anyone has any idea what they’re doing, it’s you, K____n.”
“We will probably write up reports and discussion our first impressions of you all. At least that’s my plan. I am just administration.”
“When I say field work, I mean all of us. While everyone else is off on their own, we can stick together as a group. Strength in numbers and all that. If you want to go off collect clues on your lonesome go ahead, but as a group, we should have at least several people accompanying me, seeing as I could use some help on my mission. You see, when reading the documents, I figured something out. Captain Stryx, is the last person you would choose for a mission to Hell. You can go off on your own, or you could go with me. What will it be?” He picks up his coat and places it over his suit.
"I would say we’ve already exhausted any and all reasonable options already." the Game-Carver exposes their opinion on the the team’s work. "At least I’ll have some passable company before we start making any sort of important decision on the matter. I’m in."
edited by Vavakx Nonexus on 5/26/2016