Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

[Graybeard]

The bartender looked at Desiree's offering with a (single) morose eye, scowled, and pushed it back to her. "Dr. Tenniel don't take visitors," he growled. "'Ticularly not o' your kind. Don't serve your kind here, either. Now you best be movin' on." The conversation in the room dropped in volume just a notch, and a few old half-elven faces turned toward the bar momentarily, but they rapidly returned to their drinks.

Therese and Desiree exchanged looks, and then Therese said, "Maxwel sent us." (That wasn't exactly true, but close enough.) "He gave us this to show he was serious." She placed the token bag on the bar.

There was an immediate change in the mood of the crowd, and the air got quiet and still. The barkeep raised a single eyebrow, and for a moment, his face got an expression half leering, half furtive, and all disturbing. It passed quickly as he turned toward the back of the room and yelled, "HEY, POP! SOME PEOPLE OUT HERE TO SEE YOU!"

Conversations resumed at the tables as another ancient half elf emerged from a door and hobbled toward the counter, but now the conversations were muted and respectful.

[OOC: Unfortunately, I may have a brief hiatus coming owing to another impending death in the family. Time frame uncertain, but most likely I'll be back in contact, of sorts, by next weekend. Gads -- can I get a do-over on the last year and a half? Way too many deaths among loved ones and valued friends.]

[Drusia]

"HEY, POP! SOME PEOPLE OUT HERE TO SEE YOU!"
Conversations resumed at the tables as another ancient half elf emerged from a door and hobbled toward the counter, but now the conversations were muted and respectful.

I bow respectfully to the elder half elf. "Dr. Tenniel, we were directed to speak with you by Maxwell. He mentioned a prophesy, and indicated that you could fill us in on the specifics of it."

-- Desiree

[OOC: Unfortunately, I may have a brief hiatus coming owing to another impending death in the family. Time frame uncertain, but most likely I'll be back in contact, of sorts, by next weekend. Gads -- can I get a do-over on the last year and a half? Way too many deaths among loved ones and valued friends.]

OOC:
Had a family death of my own, so no worries. **hugs**

I'm still recovering from the fallout myself - hence the longer-than-usual delays and shorter-than-usual posts.

[Graybeard]

OOC: Condolences, D! As you say, **hugs** back at you. In our case it wasn't just awful -- with Alzheimer's there comes a time when seeing a loved one die is less painful than seeing her live -- but still, can we all call a pause on loved ones dying for a year or two?

I'm back in a position to continue this at a normal frequency (other than a brief interruption coming at the end of the month), but first, a question. Was it your intention that Desiree have that conversation with Tenniel in the middle of the bar, or would she have tried to get it to happen in private? It makes a LARGE difference in what happens next. Please clarify at your convenience and we'll continue.

[Drusia]

OOC: Condolences, D! As you say, **hugs** back at you. In our case it wasn't just awful -- with Alzheimer's there comes a time when seeing a loved one die is less painful than seeing her live -- but still, can we all call a pause on loved ones dying for a year or two?

I'm back in a position to continue this at a normal frequency (other than a brief interruption coming at the end of the month), but first, a question. Was it your intention that Desiree have that conversation with Tenniel in the middle of the bar, or would she have tried to get it to happen in private? It makes a LARGE difference in what happens next. Please clarify at your convenience and we'll continue.

Well, since she doesn't know how big of a deal it is, she will probably ASK about it, albeit with a lowered voice, in the middle of the bar and let Tenniel decide if they should have it there or in private.

If it gets a reaction from the rest of the bar, well... that could be interesting.

[Graybeard]

[OOC: OK, I can work with that just fine...]

Dr. Tenniel proved to be just as kindly, and nearly as decrepit, as Maxwel. He listened gravely as Therese and Desiree repeated what they'd said to Maxwel, interjecting an occasional "eh?" or "sorry, I don't hear as well as I used to, could you speak up?" that made sure the narrative could be heard elsewhere in the bar. When they were done, he shook his head sadly. "I'm terribly sorry to disappoint you," he said, "but old Max is misremembering -- he does that sometimes. There was no prophecy, only a play that was popular back in the old town, a play about a young couple out to see the world who got adopted by some cultists and treated as god-like figures." Some of the older customers nodded at this description as Tenniel continued. "It's just as well that it was only a play, rather than a prophecy, actually. It ... ended in fire." More nods.

Therese looked disappointed at this news, of course, but the one-eyed half elf behind the bar didn't seem to care. "You said you gals was gonna buy a round of drinks for the house, right?" he said. "Okay, here's your tab." And he thrust a check toward the two young women ... but what was written on it wasn't a bill, but rather, a hastily scribbled note.

He's lying. There is a prophecy. Meet me out the back door in five.

[Drusia]

"It's just as well that it was only a play, rather than a prophecy, actually. It ... ended in fire." More nods.

Therese looked disappointed at this news, of course, but the one-eyed half elf behind the bar didn't seem to care. "You said you gals was gonna buy a round of drinks for the house, right?" he said. "Okay, here's your tab." And he thrust a check toward the two young women ... but what was written on it wasn't a bill, but rather, a hastily scribbled note.
He's lying. There is a prophecy. Meet me out the back door in five.

I calmly place a few coins - a bit more than what we drank was worth, but not enough to be suspicious - on the counter and nod, palming the note.

I turn back to Dr. Tenniel, a very good facsimile of wry disappointment and acceptance on my face. "You're probably right - in the old stories, prophesies never end well for anyone." I bow my head respectfully and add "Thank you for your time. We should be getting back to Renee."

In no apparent hurry, Therese and I collect our things and depart. I take my time and walk a full block away before taking a side road to circle back.

We keep our distance from the bar until I am certain that I have spotted the back door. Then, briskly, we hustle over and wait a few paces away.

We're about thirty seconds early.

I pull out the crumpled note and hand it to Therese. I know she saw it in the bar, so I don't wait for her to read it before asking "Is it just me, or is this starting to get kind of creepy?"

-- Desiree

[Graybeard]

[OOC: Mildly long, but things are about to get hairy, so...]

"It's not just you," Therese whispered back; she was already on her guard to the point of rigging for silent running. "We better get ready to hide, or run, or -- damn."

There was a certain amount of street noise -- it was the afternoon in an area with shops and bars, after all -- but above it, rough, male voices could be heard at the far end of the alley.

We need time. "I'm going to try something. See if you can find something in this alley big enough to hide us both." As Desiree looked around, Therese summoned magic for a trick that had already saved her life twice in Goriel. Please, Goddesses, let the latch on that door be made of metal... Thank you, it is. Broad daylight might make concealment difficult, but it at least had the advantage of making it less visually obvious when she cast a very small, tightly focused, but intense Force Bolt at the latch. There was still a soft kraak of magical energy, but the street noise would help with that ... probably.

She let out a huge sigh of relief as, from a distance, she inspected her work. The latch mechanism had taken all of the energy of the spell, and it had fused into a mass of metal that should jam the door against anything but a battering ram (or another spell to soften the metal; if one of the approaching men had both that kind of magic, and awareness of what had been done, things could get ... bad).

Just as she turned away to try to find Desiree, first a grinding sound as someone beyond the door tried the latch, then a pounding on the door, told her her efforts had been successful. Now if we can just avoid whatever's coming down the alley...

[Drusia]

"It's not just you," Therese whispered back; she was already on her guard to the point of rigging for silent running. "We better get ready to hide, or run, or -- damn."
"I'm going to try something. See if you can find something in this alley big enough to hide us both."

I blink in confusion - did something happen? - but Therese is already off doing something. She's relying on me, so I had better... find something big enough to hide us.

Hide us from what? How? By big enough, does she mean to duck behind, or to crawl into, or... what? This isn't really my area of expertice.

I mean, there's a doorway over here that's inset enough to conceal us both from a brief glance, but not an actual search -

There was still a soft kraak of magical energy.

I jump. What did Therese just do to that door?! And... wait. Oh. She thinks the bartender is coming to kill us. Ah. Which means that the inset doorway is pretty much useless.

I look around for a haystack or something, but aside from some old boxes - which are both obvious and disguting - there really isn't anywhere to actually hide back here. We'd be better off fleeing, wouldn't we?

Just as she turned away to try to find Desiree, first a grinding sound as someone beyond the door tried the latch, then a pounding on the door,

Therese turns back to me expectantly. I give her an alarmed shake of my head - I haven't found anywhere to hide - and nod vigerously back the way we came. If we can just -

I pause again, hearing what she clearly heard a moment ago. We're cut off. Lovely.

I bite my lip and motion her over towards the inlet door.

"This might give us a few seconds of surprise," I tell her, stepping into the shadow, "But I think it would be better if you could break the lock and get us inside. It might upset whoever lives here, but they'd probably be too shocked to follow us out to the main street."

If worse comes to worse, I can try calling on Anilis to stun whomever this is, but that works better when we don't plan on spending another night or three in town.

-- Desiree

[Graybeard]

"Where are th' bitches?" a rough voice called from the far end of the alley, as four or five large, disheveled men came into view. "Zeke? Y'said they was... Hey! Zeke! Where is ye?"

"In here, you idiots!" the barkeep snarled through the jammed door. "Door's stuck, dammit, I can't --"

Therese didn't wait around for the sentence to be completed, nor for the thugs, inside or outside, to realize that the "bitches" were still in the alley. There was no way out, but there was at least an open window in the building at the end for her and Desiree to escape into ... if they had time. The boxes Desiree had found looked just greasy and oily enough that ... "Desiree! Stand back!" And then: "FLAME VOLLEY!"

The torrent of flame that Therese cast might or might not have been enough to damage the thugs significantly, but they weren't the target; the greasy boxes were. A satisfying burst of flame, and more importantly, smoke billowed forth as the oil and wood caught fire. There; that should keep the others busy for the moment.

"Through the window!" she yelled to Desiree, and the women plunged through, to find ...

[OOC: To find what? I have no idea, really. Want to have some fun with that one yourself for a round or two? Whatever you come up with will be good.]

[Drusia]

[OOC: To find what? I have no idea, really. Want to have some fun with that one yourself for a round or two? Whatever you come up with will be good.]

OOC: Busy week holding pattern notice. Will post, um, soonish I hope.