[02:10] <GM-Rat> Cosgrove manages to grab Fitz by the shoulder.
[02:10] <Fitz> Fitz turns, trying to shake free of the grab. "What _is_ going on? Do you know that thing?" he asks, nervously.
[02:11] <GM-Rat> The giant purple thing- it seems to be getting bigger- is furiously bashing away at the restraints. Fitz can feel them starting to crack, slightly.
[02:12] <Fitz> Fitz's nervousness magnifies tenfold.
[02:13] <Cosgrove> "Avatar? Uh, sort of. I helped her out, she helped me out. Don't really know her too well." He turned slightly, keeping his hold. "Hey, Avatar, calm down please? He's not going anywhere. Civilized talking and all?"
[02:15] <GM-Rat> The Avatar looks really pissed. The guy in your hands is looking really nervous. And the guy in his car is honking his horn and screaming, "Fitz! Hurry up, dammit!"
Richard glances back at the huge purple thing, then at Fitz and Cosgrove, trying to work out just what the hell they're doing.
"Look, calm down or I'm going to let 'im go." Cosgrove shrugged, keeping his grip on Fitz' shoulder.
Dracos
Fitz glances from the Avatar to the waiting car. "That thing's not going to be held long!" he yells to Richard. "Just get Charlie out of here!"
"I'm not sure "calm down" is going to work. That... thing is with Mystrix," he observes, turning to Cosgrove.
Fitz's spell stands strong.
If by 'Strong' you mean that the metaphysical wall is now crackling with lightning and is actually visible to the human eye. The avatar itself has placed her hands against it, and is concentrating very hard.
"Fitz, you're not going to get away if that thing comes any closer!" yells Richard.
"Mystrix, eh?" Cosgrove shrugged. "She's been civil so far and somehow I doubt mystrix is a space alien. Anyhow, we'll see."
Dracos
"We'll see?" Fitz glares at the swordsman, pointing with his free arm at the crackling lightning. "Can't you see that?"
He wrenches his arm vainly in Cosgrove's grip. "Let go, I'm not sticking around for that 'civil' thing to break free and catch Charlie and Richard."
"Now now." Cosgrove shifted his hold to keep the other man there. "She's been civil in all my dealings with her so far. And you're the one who cast a spell at her, why are you surprised she's tearing through it? Anyhow, do me a favor and stick it out a bit. She owes me a favor. And you, on the other hand. Mind stopping frightening the wits out of whoever you were trying to find?"
Dracos
"She was already chasing Richard when that happened, alright? I'll stay, for now. But let's go over to the car. I want to make sure they can get away if needs be." Fitz relaxes a little in the grip, resigned.
"Fine." Cosgrove walks slowly over with him, waiting.
Dracos
Fitz smiles encouragingly at Charlie as he passes the car. "It's going to be fine, ok?"
Turning back to Cosgrove, his face sets into a half-grimace. "If she can hear you in there, tell her I'm going to drop the shield. Tell her to step back if she understands."
Cosgrove nodded, calling out. "Hey, Avatar, he's going to drop the shield. Calm down and back away from it for a second."
Dracos
The Avatar pauses for a moment, then stops, waiting for the action to progress.
Fitz can feel waves of power practically emnating through the shield. He realises that the Avatar can break it at her leisure, most likely. The sickly feeling of Mystrix is growing stronger by the moment...
His stomach bubbling, Fitz calls out a monosyllabic word, waving a hand, dispelling the barrier. He stands, offering up a silent prayer for protection, and waits.
The shield vanishes.
The Avatar stalks slowly towards you two, looking very crazy and upset. It's slowly shrinking, and as it does, the power of Mystrix seems to wane in Fitz's mind.
It still looks angry, though. So very angry.
"Okay," Cosgrove looked between the two. "Not that it is much of my business. But what's going on?"
Dracos
"Don't ask me. I just came out to find her chasing Richard's car, what was I supposed to do?" replies Fitz, looking at the Avatar and wondering where that Mystrix-stench went.
"And you?" He turned his head to the avatar.
Dracos
"Is it true that you are a Selenite?" states The Avatar, ignoring Cosgrove in lieu of focusing on Fitz.
"That's true. What have you got to do with Mystrix? You don't stink of their magic any more," Fitz counters, focusing too on the Avatar.
"My powers have waned quickly," states the Avatar in a booming voice. "Your time shall come, Selenite! You, and all of your kind!"
With a flash of purple light, she is gone.
Fitz turns to Cosgrove. "I'm not sure I have any idea what's going on anymore, but I hope that answered your question."
"Ah, she vanishes now. Craziness. Bah, I want a drink." Cosgrove sighed. "Sorry, about that. Nothing bad came of it though, it seems. Any chance you headed towards the docks?" Cosgrove asked, preparing to walk off.
Dracos
"Well, no. But Richard might offer you a lift."
Fitz walks round the car, leaning down and waving at Richard and Charlie. "No more giant monsters."
Richard blinks.
"I saw," he says, eyeing Cosgrove. "Who's that guy?"
"Cosgrove Cromdale. Confused, tired, iritated, and at your service. Any chance I could bug a ride to the ports?"
Dracos
Richard looks at Cosgrove, warily. "I suppose," he says, dubiously.
Then Charlie chances to look out the window. "Hey, where'd you get that case?" he asks, eyeing him.
"Was in their storage area. Was going all glowy when I went there to retrieve my stuff so I figured I'd pick it up and bring it along and check it out later on a whim. Yours, I guess? And thanks."
Cosgrove got in the car.
Dracos
Fitz followed into the car, glancing back at Charlie. "The case from earlier?"
Charlie nods. "Yeah. At least, I think so," he says, before turning to Cosgrove.
"Well, I think it's mine. I mean, it got given to me, and then I got mugged, so legitimately, it belongs to me."
"Well, then it's yours." Cosgrove handed it to him.
Dracos
As Cosgrove leans to give the case to Charlie, he feels a strange reluctance to hand it over, even though it really doesn't seem to have much to do with him.
Nonetheless, Charlie quickly takes it, and puts it further into the car.
"Got any idea, by the way, while it was glowing like crazy earlier?"
Dracos
"It was glowing?" asks Richard, blinking.
"Oh, yah. Glowing all purple and such. Same with my short sword actually. Kinda like it was reacting to it. Didn't know you had a magic glowing box?"
Dracos
Charlie shakes his head. "Nope. It got given to me pretty much out of the blue, in fact," he says.
Richard shakes his head. "Your sword was glowing? This is getting pretty strange...
I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Richard Leyes. I worship Selene- perhaps you've heard of her, I don't know. Fitz also worships the Lady.
But lately, there's been some strange activity happening around us, and we're honestly not sure what's going on. I plan to speak with a higher member of our order soon. Perhaps you'd like to join us? I take it you don't just carry those swords for show-"
Richard eyes the weapons at your belt-
"-and I don't believe we have a reason to fear you. If your sword reacts to the briefcase, as you say, it is almost certain they are connected. One may lead to hints about the other, and vice versa."
"Well, I'm in no rush at the moment and I admit, I am a bit curious about the whole deal, though if you try and make off with either, you'll not get very far."
Dracos
Richard, shrugs. "Fitz, that's allright with you, right? We'd better going going quickly- the government will clean up this mess. I don't think there's anything further we can do."
Fitz obligingly gets in after nodding in assent, and Richard revs up the engine and takes off, leaving the scene of destruction behind them...
<->
A couple of hours later, the car is outside of London and speeding along a freeway. Richard turns it into a road marked 'Prviate: Residents Only'. The area around the road is very verdent and well-kept; lush lawns, carefully-tended trees and hedges; no wonder, seeing the large manor-house at the end. It looks very much like the home of a rich millionaire, or some such.
"We're here," announces Richard, turning to Fitz. "The house of Sir Edward Stonnington, himself. If this package was really supposed to arrive in our hands, then he should know about it."
"With luck," replies Fitz, nodding. "Someone from the order called me about it, actually. I couldn't talk, since I was in the building, but his name was, uhm... James Royce Davis, that's it."
"Never heard of him," says Richard, shrugging. "Perhaps 'ol Stonnington has."
Richard pulls up near the front door, and a valet comes running up to the car, and Richard obligingly gets out, as does everyone else.
The mansion looks more impressive from close up. A fountain stands near the front door, and in the middle stands a figure instantly recognizable to Fitz, Richard, and Charlie. Cosgrove doesn't instantly identify the statue as Selene, but it's not a hard guess to make. The marble statue of a tall woman, wearing a long dress and holding a cresent moon in her hands is pretty deific, after all.
Richard turns to Cosgrove. "You'll need to hand over your weapons when we enter," he says, a little apologetically. "That's no problem, is it?"
"eh... A bit. Where do you want them to be left? And if anyone tries to make off with them, I'll remind you guys what happened to the last folks who tried that."
Dracos
"You'll hand them to a servant as you walk in. Don't worry. We're not in the business of stealing," replies Richard, dryly.
Cosgrove frowned, but nodded, his curiousity warring with his innate distrustfulness of others with his swords. "These better be right here when I come back then."
DRacos
"Well," interjected Fitz. "Shall we go and meet Sir Edward? I want to find out what's going on with all this."
"Yes," replies Richard, nodding. He heads towards the door, and knocks on the elaborate door-knocker.
The door is promptly opened by a servant, and you can the lavishly furnished interior of the building. The opening hall contains beautiful carpets, many pieces of exotic-looking artwork, and a grandfather clock, which strikes the time- it's getting late, there were 6 gongs.
"Excuse me, what is the purpose of your visit?" asks the servant, eyeing the lot of you.
Fitz smiles at the servant, nodding slightly.
"Jeremy and Charles Fitzwilliam, Richard Leyes, and Cosgrove Cromdale," he announces, gesturing at each as he speaks. "We would like to meet with Sir Edward as soon as possible, concerning a very important matter."
"I see," says the servant. "Excuse me, sirs, but you'll need to place any weapons you have with you in this cupboard," he continues, indicating one just near the door.
"cupboard?" Cosgrove twitched.
He begrudgingly looked at the man with a GLARE OF DEATH before slowly placing his weapons in the cupboard.
Dracos
The servant flinches slightly at the Glare of Death, but nonetheless leads the motley crew into a library. It's a typical old-mansion style library, too- towering bookshelves, old, musty tomes, and a large, domed roof. There's a large reading table in the middle, and on a high-backed chair sits a middle-aged man with greying hair, dressed in a neat suit, reading a book.
"M'lord, these men wished to see you," states the servant, and the lord looks up.
"Well, if it isn't Richard," he says, smiling. "And young Fitz, too! You probably don't remember me, boy, but I remember you. This must be your brother, yes?" His voice is very articulate and proper; very English.
"I'm afraid I don't know you, though, sir... well, I expect I soon will. What brings you all to my mansion?"
"My name is Cosgrove and it be curiousity over glowing boxes and swords that draw me here for the moment." He shrugged.
Dracos
"Remarkably detailed," replies the man, nodding. "Care to shed some light on what he means, Fitz?"
"Well, Sir Edward, it's quite strange. A strange person gave Charlie this case -" Fitz turns, gesturing for Charlie to show the case "- saying to give it to me, and not to open it. And then, when we went to pick him up from the station, he'd disappeared. I got a phone call the next morning from somebody called 'Keysan', telling me that Charlie was in a building in London. I managed to sneak in and find him, and on the way out we met Cosgrove here, with the case."
"Outside the building, a huge purple monstrosity calling itself 'Avatar' was chasing Richard, and making a huge mess of the street. I managed to hold it off for a bit, and noticed it..." Fitz struggles for the word. "Felt. It felt a lot like Mystrix. Anyway, it turned out it knew Cosgrove somehow - could you explain that, in a minute? - and it left peacefully. And then, here we are."
"Oh, and I almost forgot. While I was in the building, somebody called James Royce Davis called me, claiming to also be in Her service, and asking about the case."
The Earl stays silent for a moment, pondering over your words.
"The first order of business, it seems, is to open the case," he says, stroking his chin. "You present many mysteries, and it may hold some answers.
You've been contacted by some very strange people, though. James Royce Davis has supposedly been banishes from the Lady's sight," he goes on.
"And I have heard the name 'Keysan' before. It's not the mans real name- he is some kind of mercenary-for-hire. I shall try to find out more about him.
But for now, tell me more about this 'Avatar', if you would."
Throughout his speech, the Earl has remained completely calm. Not even a flinch or a blink at Fitz's story; just the quiet reservation of a faithful man.
"I don't know a great deal about her. When I first saw her, she looked like this huge demon, and seemed like she could tear down the shield I put up around her. And, as I said, she stank of Mystrix. After I let the shield down, she shrank, down to a normal sized person. Didn't look normal, though. She had purple hair, and horns."
"She said something about our - that is, Selenites' - day coming soon."
"That sounds grim," comments the Earl. "It knew him, you say?" he asks, eyeing Cosgrove. "Why don't you tell me how?"
"Ah, well enough. Met her in the forests of Ireland. Was camping out there when some kind of weird ship crashed down during a torrent. Normally, I tend to mind my own business with such affairs, especially with such weather, but given she seemed pretty sick, it wouldn't have been right to leave her there. So I carried her to the local doctor's and left her there to get better. Left her there and got ambushed by a squad of gunmen a little while later when I was continuing my trip. They flew me down to London while I was unconscious apparently and patched me up, being intensely curious about my short sword and figuring they'd keep my family sword. Being that's among the things you simply do not do, I went ahead and retrieved my property only to find her floating around, freezing people and saying she owed me a favor on my way downstairs and then had to stop someone and ran off. Later I found her chasing Richards and Fitz here and got between the two of them until she calmed down. Then hitched a ride with Richards here."
Dracos
"Quite a journey you've had," notes the Earl. "They were after you, or the swords? Or both? Can you think of why?"
"They were after my short sword. They took me because I was with it. Can't say I know why, though it glowed when it was near the box earlier and all the chaos was going on. Same with the box, actually. It's probably some kind of magic, though damned if I know. had it for quite a while and it's never shown the like previously."
Dracos
The earl nods, reclining in his chair. "We must attempt to open the case," he says. "I don't suppose anyone knows the combination lock? No? Well, there's nothing for it, then. Bring Mr. Cosgrove's short sword," states the Earl. "We may as well try to force it."
"Tried that earlier. Didn't really work that well." Cosgrove commented. "Pretty resiliant case."
Dracos
"It's only made of leather," notes the Earl. "It's probably magically enhanced. No matter. We can deal with that."
A servant reappears with Cosgrove's blade, and hands it to him- a hint of apprehension on his face.
The earl clasps his hands together and mumbles something inaudiable for a few moments. A faint light spills from his hands and slips across the briefcase, then fades away.
"Try and force it open," says the Earl.
Cosgrove...Tries to force it open!
Dracos
The briefcase holds for a moment, straining against Cosgrove's blade.. but the locks give way, and the case slips open, revealing something Cosgrove never expected to see here.
A small brooch, with the likenesses of a lion and a serpent, expertly crafted, and glowing a soft purple.
The glow may be disconcerting- but Cosgrove can't help but recognize the crest- the personal crest of one Jonathen Livingstone...
Fitz, meanwhile, notes that the aura of Mystrix, upon the opening of the case, can now be felt with such strength that it's hard not to recoil- as Richard does.
Cosgrove twitched visibly. "Where...did you get this case, did you say?"
Dracos
Charlie blinks. "I told you. Some weird guy gave it to me at the train stop."
"This is the personal crest of Johnathen Livingstone." Cosgrove remarked, a hint of anger in his voice as he stabbed it.
Dracos
Bright purple fire wreaths through the blade in an instant, and incredible kinetic force backlashes against Cosgrove's blade, causing it to go flying from his grip and to slam into a bookshelf.
"Let's not do that again," replies the earl, dryly.
"Hmph. What kind of magic is it anyhow? Was it being sealed in there?" Cosgrove asked as he went and retrieved his blade from the bookshelf it had been slammed into.
Dracos
"Stinks of Mystrix," remarks Fitz, making a face. "Though I can't tell much more about it. "Sir Edward?"
"The briefcase was magically strengthened," says the Earl, eyeing the brooch cautiously. "I can't know what the brooch actually does, though.
Whatever it does, it's obviously very potent, and a few people must want it pretty badly."
Fitz approaches Cosgrove, reaching tentatively towards the briefcase.
"You said you recognised the crest? Why did you get so angry at it?" he asks as he reaches the swordsman. He puts a hand, gingerly, gently, on the crest in an effort to feel someone more from it that the general discomfort of Mystrix-aura.
Cosgrove eyed Fitz. "It's Johnathan's crest. That's enough reason to smash it."
Dracos
Whatever that Crest is from, it's got some potent magic on it. That's not the stuff you see thrown around by acolytes and two-bit mages; that's some serious power, there.
Whatever it's used for, it does something dramatic. If it was simply a power source, it'd be a prized addition to any spellslingers collection. If it produces some kind of effect, that effect is certainly nothing to sneeze at.
"But who is this Johnathan? With people telling me the fate of the world hinges on what was in the case, what does it have to with you and him?" persists Fitz.
"He is the heir of the Livingstone family. They've troubled the Cromdale family for ages. They're filthy crooks who've been trying to wipe us off the map. Johnathan in particular is an arrogant snot, even if he's a hell of a fencer." Cosrove ranted a touch.
Dracos
"Doesn't help much with figuring out what this is, but something to keep in mind..." Fitz trails off.
"Sir," he says a touch formally, turning to his Lordship. "I think we need to know what this is - it has some incredible power inside it. I would like... I would ask your permission to commune with Selene over it, to try and gain her insight. I would like to try, or at least give it to someone else more experience with the magics of the Mystrix to do so."
"You have no need to ask me on such matters," he replies.
"However, we still have an avenue to persue. Perhaps this man can be questioned. I am sure he will not be too difficult to find- if you don't know already, sir."
"An excuse to go have a go at Johnathan? Well, I'm here anyway. He'd probably be up around Edinsburgh this time of year."
Dracos
Fitz nods at Sir Edward. "Thank you. And yes, I believe we should go after this Johnathan character. We could fly up to Edinburgh fairly quickly... "
"Sounds...good, only two things. Do you guys have anything less...conspicious I could borrow to wear? The thugs over there kind of took all my stuff and I didn't quite get my bag back. And, you're covering airfare?"
Dracos
"I'll see what I can do," replies the Earl, dryly. "If this Livingstone character is working with Mystrix, then he shall have to be dealt with sooner or later."
Fitz nods. "While some clothes are found for Cosgrove here, I'd like to make an attempt with the crest. Do you have a quiet room I could use?"
"There are plenty," replies the earl, shrugging. "You can use the guest room on this floor. I'll have someone show you where it is.
As for clothing.. well, take your pick. What sort of clothes do you want to wear? Most of my servants live in-house, and a few are your size. I'm sure they won't mind giving you their clothes, as I'll reimburse them later."
"Thanks. I appreciate it. Anyhow, just something servicable as traveling wear."
Dracos
Who suggests the picking out clothes gets timeskipped =)
A few minutes later...
<->
Fitz is alone in one of the stately bedrooms of the Earl. There's a servicable dressing-desk, complete with mirror, and plenty of room to try and do his thing.
The amulet itself is back in it's briefcase- the earl didn't want it carried around in the open too much. Something about 'Latent energy drawing.. undesirables.'
<->
Meanwhile, Cosgrove has recently been outfitted in some stout travelling gear; a good shirt, khaki pants, and a stout woolen jumper. As he leaves the dressing room to return to the mansion hall..
"You're a swordsman, right?" comes the voice of Richard, who is looking on with intrest.
"Aye, that I am." Cosgrove turned to answer.
Dracos
"How about a friendly bout?" asks Richard, eyeing you up and down. "I'm no master, but I know a few tricks. Besides, there's nothing else to do while Fitz does his thing- he can take hours at it."
Cosgrove looked him over, briefly attempting to ascern if he was really quite good or a light weight swordsman.
"Sure, why not."
Dracos
Richard looks relatively competent. Like a long-standing member of the Society of Creative Anachorism.
"We should be able to have a match out the front," says Richard, nodding. "I'll meet you there in say, ten minutes? The Earl has a number of sparring poles from his, ahem, earlier days. I'll get a servant to bring out a rack."
"Sure, Sure." Cosgrove stretched out a bit before heading out to the courtyard.
Dracos
Fitz stares at the briefcase, thinking nervously. Then, appearing to reach a decision, he place the briefcase on the floor before him, still closed, and sits cross-legged.
Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply and regularly, running through the simplest prayer he knows in his head. Over and over he repeats it to himself, clearing his mind of all else but the glory of Selene, seeking for union with her.
Eyes still closed, he leans forward and releases the catch on the briefcase.
Peace flows through Fitz's mind, right until he opens the briefcase. From then on, no matter how he attempts to clear his focus, there is always a hint of chaos and pain on the edge.
Nonetheless, he is gifted with a strange vision; an empheral star, hovering in his mind. Knowledge comes quickly; this is an Archon, an emissary of Selene; rarely seen, hardly known, it is a divine messagner of her will.
It bobs merrily about, and a silent message passes through;
What dost thou wish, ye faithful?
Fitz pushes down a swell of pride at being addressed by such an agent of Selene, calming his heart and his breathing as he focuses on the crest - his eyes still closed, he locates it by the feeling of wrongness.
There is a device before me, a crest with some great magic, which reeks of Mystrix. I seek knowledge of its purpose, and its abilities.
The archons response has an amused tint to it, and the faint aura about Fitz's mind seems to weaken a little.
Thee assumes much of thine god. Existince of yon artefact remains a mystery to thine goddess to this day.
Slightly disappointed, Fitz keeps pressing.
Can you offer no insight into the thing?
Thine item brings into the world newer hope, states the archon.
Enjoy your respite while it lasts, Selenite.
Fitz feels a knife-edge slashing across his mind. It's like all the migraines and headaches in the world came together in one searing blast. Losing his concentration is probably the least of his pains right now.
Reeling with the attack, Fitz screams and slams the briefcase closed, leaning down onto it and clutching his head. Desperately he tries to close his mind to the outside.
It's much easier to close one's mind than open it to the twisted nether, and thus Fitz finds himself alone in the room with nothing save a splitting headache for company.
Determined to get answers despite his blurred vision and reeling senses, Fitz calms himself and utters a prayer to Selene for a spell of protection.
That done, he opens the briefcase with shaking hands, and once again opens his mind. Once more he seeks the "archon".
The nether world feels dead to Fitz. The archon is long-gone, and the uncertain feelings and negative energy that pervades the area is prohibitive.
Breathing heavily, Fitz climbs to his feet, grabbing onto the bed to stop himself from falling. Taking each step carefully, he closes and picks up the briefcase, and leaves the room.
He heads back to where they spoke with the Earl, tottering down the stairs like an old man, and knocks on the door.
"Come in," states the Earl, looking worriedly at Fitz. "You don't look well, son."
"I don't feel well, sir," replies Fitz wearily, setting the case on the floor. "When I tried to contact Selene, something happened. I think... something got in the way. Because of the amulet..." he trails off, clasping hand to his forehead and groaning.
"Perhaps you should lie down," comments the Earl. "Maybe an asprin?
There seems nothing for it now but to investigate this Livingstone character.."
Fitz nods as if he can barely even do that. "Yes, I think I need to rest... Should I use that room upstairs...?"
"By all means," replies the earl.
Fitz trudges off to bed, and because it's getting late, it's not long before Cosgrove, Richard and Charlie follow suit.
<->
The next day, breakfast is being served in the main dining room. It's fairly elaborate, and the full english fare is on serve; sausages, potatoes, toast (lots of toast), and tea. Everyone is present (though Charlie looks like he fell out of bed).
"I have done a little homework," says the Earl, "and found out a little more about our mutual friend, Mr. Livingstone. It seems he's residing in a fairly flash mansion- why, quite similar to this one.
I'd have all of you go and politely ask him to explain himself."
Remembering his earlier animosity towards the fellow, Fitz glances at Cosgrove at the word "politely".
"Certainly, your lordship. Have you made any travel arrangements already?"
"There's a train that goes to Edinburgh," replies the earl. "You can rent a car and drive the rest of the way to his place."
Fitz nods in agreement. "Might I ask a favour, Sir Edward? Would you let Charlie stay here while I am away? I'd rather he was far away should things with Mr. Livingstone go sour."
Charlie opens his mouth at that, but is pre-empted by the earl.
"Yes, that's probably for the best," he says, eyeing Charlie. "Doesn't he have a guardian, though?"
"There's our parents. But he tends to run off from either one of them and come looking for me. While this is going on, I'd like to be sure of where his is."
Fitz turns to look at Charlie, attempting to be stern.
It's very cute, really; Charlie is clearly trying to come up with some brilliant excuse to come along, given the way his mouth keeps opening, but saying nothing.
"Fair enough," replies the Earl.
Fitz claps Charlie on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, "bro". You'd just get bored - likely as not we'll turn up and he'll apologise and that'll be the end of it."
Fitz fervently hopes that he's telling the truth.
Cosgrove laughs slightly. "Whatever. Let us be off then."
Dracos
"Good luck," states the Earl. "Try to be careful."
<->
The train is first-class. Obivously, no expense has been spared, here. The trip is likely to take quite a while; so there's not much to do but talk. Richard is having a snooze, leaving Fitz and Cosgrove by themselves (well, with a snoring accompaniment).
OOC: Interaction session for a bit, if you feel like it. If not, I'll move on fairly soon.
Cosgrove leans back, relaxing and enjoying the trip. Not really caring to pry or share.
Dracos
Fitz notes Cosgrove's silence and Richard sleeping, and follows suit with both, still tired from the attack on his mind.
After the train trip is over, the trio take a short moment to stretch out and grab some food before renting a car and heading up to the Livingstone mansion.
It's a luxurious place- a country home that puts many of the richest Americans and Continentals to shame. On the outskirts of Edinbourgh, it looks more like a lords fort or some such; it includes showpiece castle walls and a moat. Of course, as 'defensive' measures, they're pretty much useless, because the drawbridge has been replaced with a manmade landbridge and road- not to mention the easy-access parking lot around the back of the land, presumably for whatever employees of Livingstone work here. Servants, perhaps, or maybe he has an office of some kind.
Behind these walls (which *are* impressive), the mansion is very pretty, with tended gardens and statues and whatnot.
As Richard pulls up into the carpark (unchallenged, oddly enough), the trio see an asian woman being flanked by a pair of evil-looking toughs in suits for a moment- just before she gets into black limosuine, which promptly drives off.
The entrances into the manor from the parking lot are limited to a backdoor, which is guarded by a couple of bouncers who like to dress in black. There's a couple of gardeners out, and also a valet, who quickly approaches the car. So much for being unchallenged.
"Excuse me, what is your business here?" he asks, as Richard pulls down the windows for him. Richard himself glances at the two of you, a raised eyebrow indicating that one of you should respond.
"Greetings, I'm here to return something old Livingstone has lost."
Dracos
The valet shrugs. "I'll see it's handed to him," he says, putting out his gloved hand.
"No, No. I simply couldn't be sure it got to him. It's something quite important, you see. Tell him, Mr. Cromdale is here to see him and has something important of his."
Dracos
The valet shrugs. "Mr. Livingstone is not presently avaliable," he says, not appearing to notice the name. His tone shows that he doesn't really care if Cosgrove believes him or not.
"Well then, we'll wait here for him. Richard, park the car. We'll head inside."
Dracos
"He may be some time. If you wish to wait in the mansion lobby, feel free. However, he may not wish to see you today."
'Or ever' are the unspoken words that hang plainly on the valet's face.
Cosgrove smiled. "That's plenty fine. Tell him though he should be more careful with his personal crests when he arrives."
Dracos
The valet doesn't deign to respond. Richard quickly parks the car, and the three of you get out.
<->
The lobby is a typical grand affair; portraits and artwork abound, doubtless to wow any visitors. It's certainly impressive; Cosgrove is acutely reminded of the fact that he could probably live for years by selling any one piece of work here. Great curving staircases ascend to the higher floors of the mansion, and large doors allow access to the rest of this floor. There are a couple servants about, busily going about their duties.
From somewhere higher in the mansion, the three can hear raised voices- even shouts.
Meanwhile, Fitz feels strangely uncomfortable and cold. The room isn't draughty. Maybe it's just a chill of some kind.
Richard nudges Cosgrove. "This guy is a fencer, right? How good is he?"
'You don't want to spar with Livingstone." Cosgrove curtly answered.
Dracos
The shouting in the above rooms abruptly stops, and there are quick footsteps coming down the stairs, along with the sound of some clinking.
Yes, it's Livingstone himself, buckling on his rapier and looking every bit the swashbuckler. He's got that old-style pirate ponytail for one thing, and he's wearing an elegant-looking waistcoat and pants.
"Cromdale, you have impeccable timing," he says, irritably. "Must you come barging into my house when you do? Not even a letter or formal challenge or some such? There's protocol to be followed, you know, and I hardly have time to deal with you whenever you please. Not all of us have no obligations, you know."
"Oh, sorry, It must have slipped my mind that I should offer warning before beating you unconscious. Would now do? Or would you perhaps care to answer a curiousity on why I found a glowing purple crest with your personal insiginia on it floating around London and then get to fun part?"
Dracos
"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," replies Livingstone, flatly. "My personal insignia? Pfft. Any moron could make a mockup of that. Do think things through, Cromda-"
"Perhaps, Livingstone, you'd care to explain why you are recieving so many timely visitations," states a voice. There's a semi-russian accent involved, and a figure appears behind John, cowled in a black robe and- easily discernable to Fitz- has one of the many and varied symbols of Mystrix hanging on a cord around his neck.
Fitz leaves the talking to Cosgrove, but glances around the room, trying to find the direction the feeling is coming from. He also turns his senses to Livingstone, searching for a stink of Mystrix, or a swell of power.
Upon the entrance of the Russian, Fitz's hackles raise and he glowers at the robed figure. He turns his mind inwards and opens himself to Selene to be prepared for the worst.
Livingstone himself doesn't really feel like anything special. Just your average guy (albeit a dangerous-looking one- that sword ain't for show).
"The only thing that is 'timely' about this interruption is that it has been placed for maximum irrtation," shoots back Livingstone to the annoyed figure. "Please try to remember also, Clive, that not only is this my house, but there are things that go on within it that are my business. Am I not including you? Do not worry, that is patently intentional."
Fitz keeps silent, leaving Cosgrove in the foreground. It won't help finding out what the Mystrix are doing here if he just starts accusing...
Cosgrove smiled, deciding to wait a moment to see what 'Clive' would do.
Dracos
Clive looks vaugely affronted at that.
"As you say, Mr. Livingstone," he replies, grudgingly. "Please do conduct your business swiftly, for we have many matters left to discuss. As we speak, new developments are in progress."
With a sweep of his coat, 'Clive' vanishes back upstairs.
"Hmph. Anyhow, perhaps your right. I mean, folks just go out of their way to make copies of your personal crest, don't they? In solid gold, heavily enchanted with the magic of mystrix and practically indestructable? There must be dozens floating around, especially sealed inside briefcases that are magically sealed to keep folks out of it. Stupid me." Cosgrove returned.
Dracos
Fitz speaks up now: "And you just happen to be entertaining devotees of Mystrix in your mansion at the same time.
"Jeremy Fitzwilliam, pleased to meet you."
"Mystrix? Who's that?" asks Livingstone, wryly.
"An evil pretender playing in the guise of a god," Fitz answers coldly.
"The online nickname of Bill Gates?" hazards Livingstone, blinking.
Fitz bites back his anger. Still staring daggers at Livingstone, he replies: "You know very well what I am talking about. Clive was wearing her symbol in plain view."
"But Bill Gates is a man," replies Livingstone, snorting. "Whatever. Clive could be aligned with God, Allah, or the devil himself, but that's of no concern to me. Right now, my biggest concern is that he's making a mess of my audience room, which is why I must, regrettably, leave you for the time being."
With that, Livingstone rolls his eyes, turns on his heel, and starts heading up the stairs.
"Bah, a weak position. Can't keep your cool, Jeremy?"
Cosgrove frowned as he tried to think of a way to acquire the information about the crest.
"This lead is cooling, unless you can listen in on their 'discussion'?"
Dracos
Fitz shifts uncomfortably where he stands. "I might be able to. I'm not sure. And even if I do, they might be able to tell that I am - the mage, at least. All I can do is try, I suppose."
He mumbles a prayer to Selene under his breath, praising her name and wisdom, asking for her aid, asking for some way to hear the other side of the wall.
Clairvoyance spells are tricky things. They generally require props- like a crystal ball or mirror- and some intense casting time. Fitz feels he can probably pull one out from nowhere, but it's almost certain to be detected -if, of course, that's a real mage up there.
"I can probably manage something. But anyone who knows their stuff will be able to tell I'm doing it, and they won't be happy," Fitz confides to Cosgrove quietly. "It'll be a much easier if I have some kind of focus. A mirror, or something else reflective. Maybe even something like a.. you know, a gramaphone horn or something that shape. Might just get us sound..." Fitz ponders this.
There's nothing so conveniant as exactly what Fitz mentioned- but there *is* music coming from around here somewhere, now that they listen- probably a radio of some kind.
The room itself has a few portraits in it, including a profile of Livingstone himself, dressed up with 18th-century nobleman regalia. There's shiny brass here and there, too; used on the doorknobs and whatnot.
Cosgrove frowned a bit, waiting.
Dracos
Fitz follows the source of the sound cautiously, thinking it easier to hear what's going on from that, and that maybe it would be a little less detectable.
A bit of investigation reveals, on the same floor, a kitchen, in which cooking is being done. There's a few cooks preparing stuff- elegant meals typical of a nobleman.
There's a radio up on a shelf, just near the stove (full of pots with smoke coming out of them.)
Fitz turns to Cosgrove and nods, then proceeds with the spell using the radio - there's not much point worrying about the cooks when "Clive" is likely to detect the intrusion anyway.
Generall, this sort of spell requires the acquistion- or at least close proximity- of the item in question.
Cosgrove taps his foot impatiently.
Dracos
The game is afoot!
Fitz crosses to the shelf the radio sits on, and looks up at it, wondering whether to take it away or simply risk spelling in the open. In then end, he simply reaches up and takes it down from the shelf and walks off with it. To any interference from the kitchen staff he simply replies the he has need of it to demonstrate something to their master.
The cooks grumble loudly, but the bluff, as it were, pays off.
After all, Livingstone is not a man to be trifled with. Anyone who'd lie about having his word is *clearly* too powerful for them to deal with.
Fitz checks whether the radio can run off batteries, and if so, plants himself in a quiet spot between the kitchen and the entranceway to begin the spell - if not, he looks for a plug socket in the same area.
The radio is battery operated, so the spell has no problems with actually working. Except, of course, that the voices are a little scratchy, but hey, it's a cheap radio.
The machine glows with a soft light as Fitz does his thing...
"I assure you, Mr. Livingstone. These people have nothing to do with us."
That's the voice of Clive, allright. Evidently, he hasn't noticed the spell yet.
"It does still seem a little *too* conveniant. My longtime rival and his compatriats just *happening* to show up on the same day as you." Livingstone sounds pertubed.
"Feel free to kill them, if you want. It means nothing to me either way.
Just remember that the Epharim want your help, Livingstone, and are willing to pay handsomly."
"I've already heard your payment." Now Livingstone is sounding snappish. "A rare treasure indeed. It will bear discussion.
You would also do well to tell me who this 'Mystrix' is. I have a feeling you know."
"Mystrix? An ally, of sorts. Perhaps I should have told you earlier, but- wait a moment."
"What is it *now*, Clive?"
"Dammit! We are being scryed! I should've guessed!"
There's a sudden surge of white noise, and the radio connection is lost.
Fitz stands up, pushing the radio behind him out of direct view and turning to Cosgrove.
"Given how my efforts went last time, maybe I should just leave the talking to you..." he whispers.
"Hum. Sloppy. But Livingstone doesn't know anything and what little he does know, he won't have any reason to discuss with us. Clive is the one playing games and trying to buy talent." Cosgrove shrugged. "Let's head out. They can stop us if they wish. We'll talk in the car later."
Cosgrove lead the way out.
Dracos
As the team head out, they can hear rapid footsteps from the stairwell coming towards them.
They could easily reach the car and speed off before anyone caught up, though.
"I sense fun. Or an angry Livingstone. Both sound pretty good to my ears." Cosgrove paused, relaxing and waiting for their pursuers to catch up.
Dracos
Fitz stops too, standing slightly behind and to the right of Cosgrove to support him, and opening himself up to the powers of his Goddess.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" mumbles Richard. "We are sort of in his house."
Cosgrove raised a 'why should I care' eyebrow at Richard.
Dracos
Clive practically falls down the stairs, whilst Livingstone approaches at a quick, precise jog.
"Fools! Can't you keep your heads out of other peoples business?" he asks, angrily, his hands beginning to crackle with power. "Livingstone, help me take care of these mongrels!"
Livingstone grins at that. It's not a nice grin.
"Deal with those two as you will," he says, obviously referring to Fitz and Richard. "But Cosgrove, my friend. I suppose there's time enough today for us to catch up. Have you improved?"
"Gotten plenty of exercise, for sure, my lazy british swine." Cosgrove took a fairsized gulp of the drink he'd earlier misappropriated, not giving Livingstone much due. "I must say, I didn't take you to be a dog of the ruskes. Thought you had more class than that. I suppose it is proper time for a beating. And then some, eh?"
Cosgrove drew his blades, getting in a defensive stance for starters. "I trust that you'll be able to keep the ruske from interfering in our fun, Fitz."
Dracos
"Can't be helped..." Fitz mutters to Richard at his complaints.
At Cosgrove, he grins, and remarks: "Took care of the Avatar, didn't I?"
He keeps his eye on the "ruske" and looks inside himself for when he kept a hold of the Avatar, proferring this to Selene and trying to form a picture in his mind of a shield that deflects Mystrix magic - from the inside. See how Clive likes it if his spells go off in front of him.
Fitz can't access such a spell; the ward granted to him before was designed to protect against the presence of outsiders- those who are not native to the plane. A spell of shielding pops into his mind, that will allow him to protect himself from magic- but keeping it strong diverts his power from other spells. Clive, himself, has clasped his hand together, purple power flowing around them.
Richard unlimbers his sword, which was until now wrapped in cloth- not that he could've hidden it from Livingstone's watchful eye if he tried.
And Livingstone himself... one moment, he stands casually at the foot of the stairwell, hands by his sides.
The next, he is only a metre away from Cosgrove- to the untrained eye, he practically teleported from one location to the other. He grasps his rapier in his right hand, drawing and slashing in an upward cut with one smooth motion.
Cosgrove swayed gracefully with his knees, using his short sword to deflect the blow as he moved into a series of lightning quick thrusts with his long sword, moving to keep the fight on his terms.
Dracos
Fitz begins to chant, the syllables clearly audible but in no way understandable, an ancient prayer to Selene, trying to bring the shield up around himself. As soon as it's up, he tries to hold it firm while preparing (and not using) an offensive spell.
Purple sparks fly from Cosgrove's short sword as it impacts with Livingstone's blade, which glows a soft white in response. Only now does Cosgrove note that Livingstone isn't using his family blade that he has seen so many fights before- rather, a far less elaborately decorated sword.
With lightning speed, Livingstone deflects Cosgrove's initial sword thrust, then backs away slightly, making it more difficult to strike with the shorter sword without closing distance.
Meanwhile, 'Clive' presses his magic-laden hands to the ground, and with a sharp crackle, out of the ground springs a creature- large as a gorilla, and comprised of stone and wood.
"Clive! My manor needs it's foundation to stand!" shouts Livingstone, annoyed. However, Clive pays no attention, and with a gesture, sends his makeshift golem hurtling towards Fitz and Richard..
"A magic blade, Livingstone? Instead of your family sword? How odd of you." Cosgrove ignored Clive and his golem as he moved forward in a leaping attack, bringing his swords around quickly from either side.
Dracos
Livingstone looks peeved at that.
"It broke," he admits, scooting back a step, then leaning forward, coming towards Cosgrove's chin with the tip of his blade.
Cosgrove twisted in the air to dodge the stab, jabbing upwards swiftly and swinging to the left with his short sword to catch and deflect the blade aside, even as he caried on with his slashing attack with his long sword, using the momentum from the deflection to spin himself into a faster attack.
Dracos
At the last second, Livingstone flicks his wrist, and Cosgrove's longsword is diverted wide. Impossibly fast, Livingstone whips around with his left leg, catch Cosgrove's right as he lands and throwing him off-balance. The manouever, however, has left him open wide to Cosgrove's opposite blade.
Cosgrove spun his short-sword around in his hand, using the force Livingstone had applied to his long sword to power his spin jabbing the sword into Livingstone's sword forearm and yanking it painfully back as he moved with the kick, pulling out of easy range and trying to recover his balance.
Dracos
Livingstone tries to twist his forearm out the way, but only manages to transform a punishing blow into a slightly less painful one. A slight drip of blood leaks out his arm as he staggers backwards.
First Blood isn't as important as Last Blood, though, and a look of fierce concentration comes over Livingstone's face as he resumes his stance.
He speaks a Word
---
Whilst Fitz is squaring off with Clive, he feels the tinge of holy power behind him- not just the power of Selene, but a feeling all the good-alinged deities feel.
---
and the white, shimmering light on his blade extends, making the blade apparently lengthen several inches- giving him a small but significant reach advantage over Cosgrove.
"So that's how it's going to be now, is it?" Cosgrove moved in as fast as he could, working with his short sword and not his long sword as he depended on the greater speed of the smaller blade, striking not at Livingstone, but at his sword as he attempted to bring the fight within the range of the longsword and ruin the effect of the reach advantage. Not one to spare the chance for a hit, his other hand lashed out, wrapped around the hilt of his sword as he brought his fist towards Livingstone's gut hard.
Dracos
Livingstone takes a step forward- bizzarely enough- and jams his rapier against Cosgrove's shorter blade- slamming it right up to his basket hilt. At the same time, his left hand slips to Cosgrove's punch and grabs the fist full on.
Cosgrove promptly uses the two counter forces that Livingstone is so nicely providing to steady himself as he flip kicks up, bringing his knee, or fail that his foot, against Livingstone's chin.
Dracos
As Cosgrove tries to pull out his kickflip, he feels himself being pulled towards Livingstone-
-and feels his foot impact with the taller man's gut as his head is struck by something very hard. Instead of following through and landing on his feet, Cosgrove falls on his back, hard. It's small comfort that Livingstone looks dazed- he's still rushing at Cosgrove, his blade aimed in a stab towards his heart...
Cosgrove drunkenly sways and slides out of the way on the ground, his blade slashing in an unorthodox technique, intended to embed Livingstone's sword into the polished wood floor and then kick up to standing on his feet while his opponent is otherwise occupied.
Dracos
Instead of putting Livingstone's blade in the floor, Cosgrove's technique only deflects to the side.
As he gets up, his head feels sore. Livingstone again takes a stance, and the two are back to square one.
"Getting slow in your old age, Livingstone? Maybe I should just go and finish you off if you can't even hold your own with a magic sword."
Cosgrove shifted his stance to a defensive one, ready to parry the longer blade this time instead of trying to rush past it. "Come on, I'll wait for you."
Dracos
Fitz tosses his shield aside the second the golem crawls out of the ground and prepares an offensive spell - whatever Selene will offer him to blast apart Clive's creation.
Unfortunate that he must close his eyes to use the spell, but he tries to keep the feeling of the thing in his mind to keep the attack on target.
Fitz finds his magic reacting oddly with the presence of the blade Livingstone wields- either it's going to be sucking away holy energy, or emnating it for Fitz to use- and it seems to be flickering between these states.
As he chants, he hears the heavy footsteps of the golem rushing towards him...
<->
Livingstone's left-hand flickers, and a knife hurtles out from his sleeve towards Cosgrove's chest. After it's thrown, he quickly comes forward with a thrust at the shorter man's head.
Cosgrove weaved out of the way of the knife with a drunken sway, sliding down and moving gracefully into a roundhouse kick low to the ground, dropping his entire form well under where Livingstone was striking for.
Dracos
Fitz continues to chant, keeping ready to jump away if he feels power being siphoned away.
"Selene, my mistress, protect me your servant in this world, your hand on Earth, your mortal sword, give me strength to smite this creation of a heathen worshipper of a false god and rend it asunder." Fitz's words flow from somewhere inside him without thought, calling forth aid.
A bow made entirely of light shimmers into existence in Fitz's hands, and he knows that if he tries to draw the string, an arrow will appear there.
<->
Because of the delay between throwing the knife and attacking, Livingstone has no real trouble adjusting his blow. Striking at Cosgrove's leg, he manages to leave a nasty gash, as well as reduce a dangerous sweep into little more than a tap.
Hastily Fitz places his hand on the bow and draws it back, feeling the arrow appear as much as seeing it, and aims at Clive, yelling to Richard at the same time.
"Get that golem!"
Cosgrove grunted and twirled, continuing the motion as he spiraled up on his feet with his swords, slashing swiftly the whole way back up.
Dracos
Clive gasps, and flings himself out the way of the arrow. None of the graceful dodges that are being executed a short distance away between Cosgrove and Livingstone- just a long leap. He stumbles, the arrow cratering a chunk of the mansion's wall.
Richard charged the golem, and with a mighty overhead blow, finds himself locked in combat with the creation.
<->
Cosgrove's twirling technique is parried and blocked by Livingstone, but the man can't find an easy opening, and dodges back a step, momentairly on the back foot.
Cosgrove pushed hard with his good foot, aggressively moving in with a blurring series of strikes from both sides, rapidly pushing Livingstone back.
Dracos
Rapid Attack, Rapid Attack!
Fitz presses, advancing on Clive and taking another shot.
Fitz's shot practically fizzles away as Livingstone's blade glows with energy, allowing him to easily defend against Cosgrove's strikes. However, at the same time, the purple energy about Clive seems to dissapate somewhate.
Fitz's eyes dart to Livingstone's blade for a second, then he presses forward again, getting as close as he can while still being able to aim properly.
Cosgrove takes note and shifts, keeping up the offensive and trying to force Livingstone towards his comrade out of curiousity.
Dracos
With the light in his blade, Livingstone seems to have no real trouble parrying Cosgrove's attacks. Cosgrove knows Livingstone is fast- but not *that* fast.
Purple sparks shoots out as his short sword clashes with the rapier, and the holy glow seems to vanish quickly.
Clive has set up some kind of warding shield, sending Fitz's arrow ricocheting off dangerously close to Cosgrove..
Cosgrove frowned and focused on meeting the magical blade with his short sword as much as possible, using his long sword to keep Livingstone from being able to go on the offensive. Focused on his opponent, he didn't even flinch at the near miss.
Dracos
Livingstone curses as Cosgrove artfully parries his longsword with his shorter blade, and slowly starts backing away, beginning to fight more defensively.
With a sudden surge of power, however, Clive throws the entire room into darkness. Cosgrove can't see at all (though he can hear Livingstone's feet moving), and Fitz feels his arrows of light wink out.
Fitz curses and his gaze darts this way and that, as if he might be able to see in some direction. Having no luck, he draws on his Goddess' support, begging some of her Light.
Cosgrove uses his stealth skills to move silently and slowly in the darkness towards the left (assuming he remembered the left as open), listening to try and pinpoint either Livingstone or clive.
Dracos
Judging by the sound's of their feet, Livingstone has moved back to the stairs- rather slowly. Clive, however, is running, and not crashing into much; he's running after Livingstone.
Richard and the Golem are, by all accounts, stumbling around with no idea.
Following the sound of Clive's feet, Cosgrove moves until he judges himself reasonably close and swings out in a wide arc, planning to catch the man even if he misjudged while keeping his own footsteps as quiet as possible.
Dracos
Cosgrove's blade swings through empty air- and clashes against an upright blade.
It wasn't a parry, more like hitting a stationary object- Livingstone must've been holding the blade in that fashion in any case, as opposed to just as Cosgrove attacked.
Cosgrove hopped back. "You know, Livingstone, this terribly ruins the fight."
Dracos
"I'm as miffed as you are," replies Livingstone, sounding annoyed. "Honestly, Clive!"
"Shut up and kill him, for crying out loud," shouts Clive. "This isn't a bloody tea-party!"
The darkness evaporates all of a sudden, and Livingstone's blade glows a bright white. Clive blinks.
Cosgrove notes that Livingstone is as shocked as he himself is- he obviously has no control over the blades effects. Clive is standing just behind Livingstone, and he's also shocked.
Cosgrove blinks, his eyes adjusting back to the light. "Nifty toy you got there. Care to get rid of your yelping foreign mutt first before we continue?"
Cosgrove readies to parry the blade with his short sword.
Dracos
Livingstone pauses for a moment.
"Gladly," he says, annoyed. "This fight isn't much fun. I suppose I'll have to talk to you instead. What a drag.
Clive, get out my house."
Clive blinks at that, then looks at Livingstone as if he's lost his mind.
"You're going to regret this, Livingstone," he says, a sneer in his voice.
Livingstone snorts. "Cosgrove, get out the mans way. The door is that way, Clive."
Fitz blinks in the returned light, and quickly takes stock of the situation. Watching Clive carefully, he notches a glowing arrow and holds it pointed at the ground, but ready.
Cosgrove steps aside, glancing at Clive "Dog, be thankful. If we cross paths again, I'll be sure to remember your yelping interference."
Dracos
"Take that thing with you," Fitz sneers, nodding to the golem.
Clive curses, and with a snap of his fingers, the golem disintegrates. He storms out the mansion, looking *very* pissed off.
Livingstone rolls his eyes. "Honestly, Cosgrove. Now, tell me why you decided to barge in on my house with your friends again. And you had better make it good."
OOC: Try fourty seven.
IC:
"Friends? Anyhow, I was following leads. Some big organization hunting supernatural stuff came after me and managed to gun me down, pissing me off but good. When I managed to slip their grasp, I swiped some box they were all in a-titter about and figured I'd see what was going on. Inside of it was some heavily enchanted copy of your crest. So I headed on over here in case you knew something about it and well, since it's been reasonably long since I last worked at riding the world of your presence."
Dracos
There, not good, but THERE
"That dratted-," mutters Livingstone, cursing. "I'm sure it's that idiot Clive's fault.
Not that I'd help you if I could, but I really can't. I know Clive is some mage; a priest, you said? Something like that. The details don't concern me. He wanted my money, as I recall, and was offering all and sundry for it.
I'd never give a crest away, though. Not a Livingstone would! They're protected, you know- they only release themselves from their owner when the owner is defeated in a fair fight.
And as loathe as I am to admit it, the only people on Earth with even the slightest chance to manage that are the spawn of your misbegotten ancestors," he finishes, snorting.
Cosgrove jotted down the address of that tower on a bit of paper, handing it to livingstone. "In case you feel curious on why some folks were dancing around with your crest. Here's where they were set up. Now, since it's far too late to pick up that fight. I'm going to go see how fast Clive can run. Good day."
Cosgrove turned, heading to leave and back to the car.
Dracos
"Thanks," Fitz said, nodding to Livingstone. "I'd be careful with Clive's sort in future. You can't trust them."
With that, he set off after Cosgrove.
"Don't get yourself killed, Cosgrove," says Livingstone, shaking his head. "That sole right belongs to me!"
Richard gives Livingstone an odd look, and scoots off after Cosgrove and Co.
<->
As Cosgrove, Fitz and Richard reach their economy car, they can see another crappy-looking car leave Livingstone's side gate. It's impossible to tell if it's Clive or not, but given the time involved in leaving, it probably is.
"I don't know how much this thing can take," notes Richard, shaking his head as he starts up the engine. "How're we going to do this? I don't think ramming them is really an option."
"Follow him, find out where he's heading?" suggests Fitz. "Might be better than jumping straight into a fight with him."
"Yeah," notes Richard. "We can do that when he's got with all his buddies, eh, Fitz? Cosgrove?"
With that, Richard pulls the car into gear and starts off after Clive's car. He keeps the car back a fair bit, but he's no expert tail; if the group is unlucky, Clive could spot them.
The countryside is fairly placid, and it's still early afternoon. Clouds begin to gather overhead, however, and, just as the city of Edinburgh is seen over the crest of a hill...
...Clive's car stops. Looks like a flat tyre. Richard keeps on driving, not wanting to give himself away- but it is indeed Clive who gets out, and can be seen kicking his car...
"Stop. Enough with the bumbling spy bit. I will just ask him a few questions and get the answers I want. Block off his car with yours so he can't drive it off even if he gets the tire." Cosgrove waits for Richard to do so.
Dracos
"Alright. We won't get a better chance than this, let's do it."
Richard nods, sliding his car around to a halt.
"I wonder what he popped it on?" he comments. "Eh. Slash his other tyres for good measure, will you?"
Cosgrove stepped out, walking around behind Clive, positioning himself within easy range to slam clive against the car if he begins any spell casting. "Pity 'bout that tire really. Maybe I can help you out."
Dracos
Clive looks up.
"You!" he shouts, pulling out a knife and wildly slashing across with it.
Cosgrove figures he could take him out easy.
If he only had one leg.
And was blind.
"Be careful, you might break something." Cosgrove shifted, dodging the wild slash and lashing out with his hands, grabbing and breaking the offending hand holding the dagger.
Dracos
Cosgrove's wit is not lost on Clive, who falls back against the car, clutching his wounded hand in pain.
Now that he has a good look, he can see that Clive is.. just a kid, really. Maybe a little over twenty, at most. Probably younger. Real fear is in his eyes.
"looks like you got yourself set pretty nicely. Good crew you're hanging with. They keep you safe and all. Keep ya out of trouble. Wouldn't mind telling us a little about them would you?" Cosgrove asked, the threat pretty plain.
Dracos
"If I do, they'll kill me!" 'Clive' squeals- the Russian accent gone, replaced with a flimsy Londoner tone.
Stuff starts to drop from his robes and clutter around his feet; tomes, pendants, a mobile phone...
"Recognize any of it, Fitz?" Cosgrove asked, picking up the mobile without much of a care. "Should've thought of that beforehand though, Clive? What's your real name anyway?'
Dracos
From what Fitz can see, it's mostly junk. A couple of trivial trinkents that have some relevence to Mystrix, but nothing overtly special. It could be worth picking up anyway- especially the books. If nothing else, they'll be good for a read during the trip back into town.
"It really IS Clive," spits back the kid, recovering himself a bit. "And I'm not telling you heretics anything!"
Cosgrove lashed out, catching Clive's other hand. "Heretics? Sorry, that sort of requires me to speak about your religion, doesn't it? Anyhow, you sure? I mean, we could do this the easy way where you are likely to have some functional limbs when we're done or I could just work out my aggrevations on you and you can pray to your god or goddess or whatnot to make the hurting stop."
Dracos
"I'll never tell you where the Edinsburgh-church is! Never!" shouts back Clive, starting to gain inner resolve.
"Tell me." Cosgrove slowly pushes back Clive's index finger until it is parallel with the back of his hand. "everything you know."
Dracos
"Ah!"
Clive hollers a bit, and squeals, "-okokok, look, I'll tell you- but only because I know you'll go there and get your asses kicked."
He stammers out an address, fear coming back into his eyes.
"Maybe. Maybe I'm just curious.." Cosgrove's hand moved to the next finger. "You don't want to be holding back on me in either case though. Tell me everything you know. How you found them, who leads them, every person's name you can think of and why I might care."
Dracos
Clive winces again- quite understandably. "Look, there's not even that much to tell, I swear! We were trying to recruit Livingstone- we even bribed him, but he never seemed to care.
It was under orders from Zaran, anyway. Zaran's the leader of the Cabal, and- I can't even say what the plan is, I'm geased against it! If you make me, I'll explode!"
It's hard to tell if he's lying or not. "But everything went haywire when the goddam Avatar appeared, and now I don't even know what's coming nex-"
Clive's phone abruptly rings; an annoying, piercing tune, to be sure.
Cosgrove glances at the phone, expecting a name to likely be referenced on it's screen.
Dracos
'Jared' is on the screen, and Clive sees it. His eyes widen a little.
"Who's Jared?" Cosgrove turned, tossing the phone to Fitz.
Dracos
"Another guy we wanted to recruit," spits out Clive, crestfallen.
"What are you doing working with the Cabal?" Fitz mutters, not expecting the lackey to know anyway.
Fitz catches the phone (just) and looks at it. "Jared's a swordsman, he was in some trouble earlier. I helped him out..."
"How did recruiting him go?" asked Fitz, ignoring the ringing.
"It was.. a worktrade," says Clive. "We got one of their mages. They got me. Jared.. I don't know," he mumbles.
Fitz gives the guy a withering look as he hits the answer button on the phone.
"Hello?" he says curtly.
"Trade, huh? With who?"
Dracos
Clive gives Cosgrove a weird look. "With the Cabal, of course. It's not like we gave them a choice, but we needed their numbers and libraries.
It's mostly set up. Mystrix will be pleased."
"Who is the cabal trading with?"
Dracos
Clive blinks, again.
"Us, of course! We Clerics of Mystrix!"
Meanwhile, a nervous-sounding Jared answers the phone...
"Uh, is this.. Clive?" he asks.
"You know, you should stop assuming everyone pays attention to the petty bickerings of a bunch of mages. You religious cults are all the same. No keeping an eye on the ground in front of you. Anyhow, where do you guys hang out? The clerics of Mystrex?"
Dracos
"No." replies Fitz. "What have you been up to with the Mystrix, Jared? Anything to do with those things chasing you?"
"Fitz? Oh..." replies Jared, sounding tired. "Yes. In a manner of speaking... are you working with them, too?"
"Not on this island," replies Clive. "I'm an emissary, remember? We don't have holdings in the UK!"
"Well, now I know where you don't hang out. That's not really that helpful, is it, Clive?"
Dracos
"The Cabalists hole out in a club," replies Clive. "Downtown Edinburgh. The Blue Room.
You won't get in, though. They've got the place so rigged up with divinations that they'll catch your sword," he comments.
"That's nice...but not what I was wondering about." Cosgrove mentally noted the place. "You said your group isn't in the UK. Where are they?"
Dracos
"No, Jared, I'm not with them. My people and their people don't get on." Fitz replies darkly. "What've you been doing for them that got you in trouble?"
"I don't know if I can tell you over the phone," replies Jared. "Why on earth did you answer?"
Clive blinks. "We have many holdings," he replies, nodding. "Indoensia, Africa, anywhere in the middle-east, south america..."
"Anything else you'd like to share?" Cosgrove considered Clive.
Dracos
Clive's mouth remains shut, and he definately glances up at Cosgrove.
"oh well. Sorry, but take this as an object lesson in remaining sitting to the side and out of the way next time you are near a good sword fight." Cosgrove reached down, grabbing a hold of his jaw and breaking it with a quick blow, followed by a snap strike at one of his ankles.
Picking the man up, he proceeded to put him in his own car and shutting the the door, he turned an eye to seeing how the conversation was going.
Dracos
"I answered because we're with Clive right now. There's something going on, and his people have something to do with it."
"Oh. I'd offer to help, but I'm.. busy," mumbles Jared over the phone, sounding distant. "I might contact you soon."
"Fine. I want to know what's going on with the Mystrix when you do."
With that, Fitz hangs up and turns to Cosgrove.
"Not much help there, except that I know know Jared's been working for them. Anything from Clive?"
"I know where they are in Edinburgh. Other than that, not too much. Anyhow, let's get going."
Dracos
The team gets back in the car, and barely a minute after Richard has started driving again.
A while later, whilst travelling through the streets in Edinburgh, Richard thinks for a moment.
"I think we're still a fair way off from the club," he says. "But I figure that if they have any divination magic about at all, they'll probably see us coming... at least, if we're bearing any overt magic.
I don't know about you two, but I have issues with driving into some club infested with spellslingers. If that's what they are."
"Why are we heading right there? Fitz, do you know anyone in town?"
Dracos
"There are always people around. Not that I know of anyone specific around here..." Fitz thinks for a moment.
"Unless you know anyone, Richard, I think the best bet is to ring Charlie. After all, he's with Sir Edward, he can ask around."
"Oh, I think I know someone," mumbles Richard, looking sideways. "I don't know if I want to.. oh.. er, yes, I know someone," he continues, sweating a little. "He.. um, isn't a Selenite, though. Just a man I know who taught me a few things once. Yeah, that's it."
"Think he can help us?" asks Fitz, not prying past the nervousness.
"Maybe," replies Richard, musing. "He'd know if something was happening around here.. but I can't speak of who he is, you see. I can only tell you where he is."
"You know wot? I don't care. Just drive there and we'll work it out then."
Dracos
"Fair enough. Let's just go see him." Fitz agrees.
The place Richard takes you too is very suburban. Houses are kinda packed together, some of the lawns are mowed, some aren't, there are a few people wandering around here and there, and there was a nice park a little while back.
Richard pulls up about a block away from the park, and shrugs. "He's in the park," he says, shiftily. "You can't miss him, but I can't describe him. Just.. you'll know him when you see him."
"uh huh. Not coming along?"
Dracos
"No," replies Richard, tacitly.
OOC: 'tactly' is not 'tacitly' =p Tacit is silent.
IC:
"Eh, what the heck. It's already crazy enough as is."
Cosgrove got up to go for a stroll in the park.
Dracos
The park is kinda nice. There's only a few people about, and while it's not particularly large or dense (you can see from one side to the other easily, and sprint the whole distance), the neatly kept grass, wide path through it, and large trees give an illusion that it is larger than it is.
The people about consist of a couple of teenage girls walking down the path, some father and his kid son running around with a frisbee, and two notable individuals.
There's one guy who's sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper. He doesn't look that remarkable, except for the wooden stick he's carrying around with him. Cosgrove might not have the best eyes in the world, but he's certainly good at picking out swords, and that's what this man seems to have.
The other strange guy is a little different. He's got loose white hair tied in a tail, and looks to be tall. Or short? Your eyes just seem to slide off him, and only by firmly fixing him in your mind can you keep focused on him- to the exclusion of all else. He's wearing a light business suit and is carrying an umbrella.
Cosgrove, as is habit, went to check out the sword fighter sitting on thesame park bench and looking around the park some more, calmly.
Dracos
Fitz gives Richard a grin and a nod, "Back in a bit, then," and wanders into the park after Cosgrove. He pauses at the entrance, looking at Cosgrove and the man next to him on the bench, and then the suited man.
He idly leans against a tree, focusing on the suited man. Can't describe him... you'll know him when you see him... Fitz walks towards the man.
"Sorry to bother you, but do you know a Richard Leyes?"
The swordfighter seems quite happy reading his paper. He looks a little tired, actually, and not particularly alert. It's only afternoon, but people like him are noted for having odd hours of operation, anyway.
<->
"Hmm? Richard Leyes?" asks the man, vanishing.
"Who's asking?" asks a disembodied voice, coming from everywhere and nowhere.
"Nice day out, isn't it?" Cosgrove politely comments in a conversational voice.
Dracos
The swordsman yawns a little.
"Passable," he says, with a slight indetermite accent. "A good day for lazing about."
"All days are good for lazing about. Nice walking stick, by the way." Cosgrove appeared relaxed.
Dracos
"Ah, you think so? There aren't may people who can really appreciate it," comments the man, tapping it a little. "You never know when a good stick can come in handy."
"Indeed, there's so many uses for them."
Dracos
"You seem to know a few things about using sticks," replies the man, drumming his fingers. "I'm more partial to making sticks, myself. Why, this one isn't even for me, but for a friend of mine."
"A few, a few. Not many crafters these days. Pity really."
Dracos
"It's true," muses the crafter. "And soon, I too shall be hanging up my tools. It is... unsettling to think how sticks are used in this age."
"A few still use them how they were meant to be used instead of hanging them on walls."
Cosgrove leaned back. "What's your name?"
Dracos
"That's exactly it," muses the man. "They use them, but they don't use them properly. Not for the right reasons.
You can call me Smith Black, I suppose. It doesn't really matter. Everything goes into the sticks, you know? Everything. Otherwise they aren't.. right."
"Mmm..." Cosgrove nodded. "The way it's always been. My name is Cosgrove Cromdale."
Dracos
Fitz takes a involuntary step backwards. "Jeremy Fitzwilliam... I'm a friend of Richard's." He glances around quickly, trying to see where the man has hidden himself.
"Oho. Ah, Richard. Still too timid to come to me himself, is he?"
There's an amused chuckle at that. "So, is that all the importance to who you are? Richard's friend? If so, then tell us what Richard wants.
If there is more, tell that, too, and I may care."
<->
"True, true," replies the man, nodding. "Sticks are made to be used, but they are rarely used as they should be.
Well, Mr. Cromdale, should you ever need a stick, I am not the man to talk to. This one-" he taps the cane as indication, "-is the last one I shall sell for profit.
And I do believe the soon-to-be owner is late. No matter. What brings you here, fellow stickman?"
"Fresh air and pondering what to do about a group of ruffians that have gotten a bit too big for their britches and trying to gather stickmen to cause trouble for folks. And longing a bit for the mountains of Ireland. They're quite nice this time of year. Annoys me a bit I'm not there to enjoy it."
Dracos
"Such is the price of being caught up in these matters," replies Smith. "I suppose it's a blessing that I'm only involved peripherally."
"Yeah, I can hear that. But what can you do sometimes. A stick that's left to rot is little better than a stick that's used wrong. To see and ignore is beyond some. Either way though, it's refreshing to relax for a bit."
Dracos
Smith chuckles. "There is one thing I plan to do," he says, nodding to himself, and a faint starry look comes into his eyes. "One more thing before I retire for good. I will create the finest weapon... one that only a true warrior will draw.
Yes, it will be a work on par with the swords of legend, but finer still, for it will be used to bring the true spirit back into the world...
...is what I'd like to say, but I do not know how I will accomplish this. Such a weapon can only be brought so far by the creator's hand. It requires the finest material as well, and I fear that such ore will be beyond my reach for many years."
"One might say I'm a bit of a traveler and such a dream warms my heart, for there are few with such dreams these days. What ore are you thinking of, in case I cross that ways."
Dracos
"Oho! An offer to help? Certainly to be expected of a swordsman," replies Smith, forgetting his earlier innuendo. "But, as is, it is only your kind that have a chance of finding such things for me.
Yes, to find the Five Magical Materials would certainly qualify anyone as a true swordsman in my eyes. But have you heard of them? Could you have?
No, of course not, for they are but legends, and dying ones at that. Listen to an old-fashioned man ramble for a moment.
But yes. The five materials.. Orhicalcum, Starmetal, Moonsilver, Adamant, and Mour-Ferri.. five materials. Five different magics, each as powerful as the next, and today, equally as rare.
I know little but old stories. Only Adamant is obtainable by mundane means, these days, and is as hard as any other. You would need money- so much money, and you would need to buy a thousand diamonds, and find some way to determine which are true Adamant and which are merely imitations...
I can tell you more. Orhicalcum was once in the crust of the Earth. Today, however, it can be smelted from Gold.. that is, if you have a master jewller, an excellent smelter, the greatest technology avaliable to miners today, and the most precise, most carefully aligned mirrors at the place where the sun shines brightest..
Starmetal comes from the stars, and in ancient times, it is said they would fall like meteors to the Earth, and lie until found- or taken by nature. If you were to chase every meteor that ever fell, perhaps one would not simply be rock, and may be what we seek.
Moonsilver is touted to fall from the dark side of the moon, and only in one place, a lake- a lake touted to be somewhere within these isles. This may intrest you- it is said that Excalibur had moonsilver as part of it.
Mour-Ferri, I know nothing of."
Cosgrove whistles a touch. "Hmm, interesting, that is very rare indeed. Where is the legend of these metals from?"
Dracos
"An ancient book, titled 'Before the Stone,'", says Smith. "It is difficult to believe the legends within... at least, it would be, had I not seen Orhicalcum with my own eyes."
"Where did you see it?" Cosgrove listened interestedly.
Dracos
"Many years ago, whilst I was still learning my trade," replies Smith. "It was in my masters workshop that the man in a red cloak entered, and asked him to repair his blade.
I only got a small glimpse, and my master would tell me nothing of it. But it seemed as gold brighter than the sun."
Cosgrove nodded, pondering. "I shall keep an eye out in my journeys, though that is a challenging task even for me. As a moment," Cosgrove unhooked his sheathed short sword and offered it to the man. "Take a glance at that. Maybe you can see more than I do. For years, I've simply wielded it as a fine blade, but apparently it has some magical properties."
Dracos
The man takes the blade and inspects it for a moment.
"You should know that as a smith, I do not work directly with magic and such things," he comments, turning the weapon over in his hands. "My craft gives me some peripheral knowledge, but nothing concrete.
As things stand.. this is certainly a fine weapon, enchanted or no. It is only made of steel, and.. actually, I think I do see something.."
The man produces a small eyeglass. "A useful tool, this-" he comments, nodding. "Especially handy for finding imperfections, but.. ah, yes, here we go. Look here."
He indicates a small spot on the sword, close to the hilt. To Cosgrove, it looks like just a small nick, but when he uses the eyeglass to spy it closer, he realises there's some kind of Asiatic characters there. Of what country, he can't tell, and he obviously can't read them.
"I never noticed that before." Cosgrove considered. "Hmm, probably a name for it. I can't read it though."
Dracos
"Neither can I," replies Smith. "That's not a good thing. I think they're Chinese, though. Maybe Japanese. Hell, why not maybe Korean? I was no good with langauges."
"Yeah. Oh well." Cosgrove sheathed the blade. "Something to keep in mind. Out of curiousity, have any theories on the metals you want? At a guess, I'd suspect a native here would have some thoughts on moonsilver."
Dracos
"If only," replies Smith, shaking his head. "If the legends are true, though, I believe reading some King Arthur stories might be in order. You may find some link there."
"Or a trip to Tintagel. Hum. Oh well."
Cosgrove leaned back, going quiet for a moment in thought.
Dracos
Smith shrugs. "I like to come to this park every few days," he comments. "At around this time. If you find anything, do try to drop by.
I don't think my buyer is coming. Such a shame, too. This is quite the fine.. stick. Ah well. Perhaps I'll keep this one for myself. It would be nice to have a momento."
With that, he rises, and starts to walk off.
"There is more to it than that," Fitz agrees. "Richard thought you might be able to help us somewhat. The devotees of Mystrix are becoming very active - we know they're working with other groups, recruiting help.
"And then there was this crest - belonging to a Johnathon Livingstone - which they enchanted with great power somehow. Several people have told me it's very dangerous, and that it places the world in danger."
"Richard thinks much without the price," muses the voice. "Ah, Mystrix, threats to the world, dangerously enchanted crests... so similar to a hundred years ago, yet, immeasurably different.
I suppose I can help you, boy... yes, I can help you. But you'll need to pay the cost."
At this, his voice becomes something of a hiss, almost like a snake. "Yess... I know just the thing. How are you up for a little theft from thieves, boy?"
"If you'll help us, perhaps. What do you have in mind?" Fitz responds cautiously.
"It's nothing too difficult," replies the voice. "You see, over there, in that building yonder?"
The voice drifts across the park, and a low breeze blows leaves and such towards one edge of the area. Through the trees, Fitz can spy a small bookshop.
"The owner of that store yonder is into... eldricht tomes.
If you can procure one of suitable intrest for me, I'll gladly help you. I don't think he keeps them on the normal shelves, though."
"And where do the thieves come into it?"
"Don't doubt for a second the owner isn't a thief himself," replies the voice. "I'm a thief, too. Everyone in the business is. No doubt he stole it from someone who stole it from someone who stole it from someone. It's all the same."
"Hard to argue with that," admits Fitz wryly. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"
"I'll trust your judgement on what's hot and what's not," replies the voice. "Just, go, hurry up! I can't be seen talking with you for too long. People will start getting... ideas."
Fitz nods, "Alright," and turns, looking around the park for Cosgrove.
"He says he can help us. He wants us to get something for him first, though. A book."
"Ah, that other guy? What book?"
Dracos
"He didn't say, specifically. But the words 'tome' and 'eldritch' came up, so I think we can find something he'd like. There's a bookshop over there," Fitz point in the direction the voice indicated, "which has some. Though they won't likely be in plain sight."
"Your ability to get information is clearly stunning. And you came to get me why? Go buy the book and make him happy."
Dracos
Fitz shrugs. "I thought you'd appreciate it more than me wandering off without a bye or leave."
He sets off towards the bookshop.
The bookshop is a nice place. Titled 'Ken's Second-Hand Bookstore', it's got a dusty, old-library feel to it. The propietor looks friendly, though, and the shop feels... homey. It's slightly larger than one would expect, and has books of varying mundane types organized into marked shelves.
A stairwell leads up into a second storey, but is closed off with a rope and a sign; "Staff Only."
After walking up and down the shelves a little, Fitz approaches the owner.
"Hi. I'm looking for something a little rarer than what's here, unusual books. Do you think you can help me?"
"Oho! You're another one of those thieves send by that bastard!" states the man, producing a shotgun.
"Get the fuck out my shop!"
It's only now that Fitz realises that *nobody else* is in the shop apart from him and this guy.
Fitz raises his hands in front of him, taking a step back.
"What..?" he mumbles, backing out of the shop. He heads back to the park and finds Cosgrove again.
"That didn't go well. He's a bit paranoid."
"For buying books?"
Dracos
"I think this sort of thing's happened before. He pulled a bloody gun on me."
"...for buying books?"
Dracos
"He called me a thief. Fits with what that guy said - 'Everyone in this business is a thief'. I can't imagine the sort of books he was looking come cheap, if they come for money at all."
"Woah...woah, how about we start back at the beginning where you make this make some sense?"
Dracos
Fitz shrugs. "That snakey guy, the one I was talking to, told me to get him a book from that place, in exchange for helping. Well, he said 'steal'. Clearly, he's asked people to before, and the owner's sick of it."