IG's Legend of The Ripper [IC]

industrygothica · Jul 11, 2007

It is on a cold, fretful night that you find yourselves in the heart of foul Millers Court: a district of crumbling tenements and narrow streets, of rat-haunted alleys and seedy taverns, a place that reeks of death and decay and hopelessness.

Of all the grim comers in Millers Court, none could possibly be grimmer than the one you find yourself standing on tonight. You're surrounded by rows of warren-like homes and shops, each one filthier and more oppressive than the next. All sane people avoid the area, for the melancholy spirit of Mari Kell is said to haunt the comer in death much as she did in life as a "lady of the night."

She was the last victim of the Ripper's horrific spree of a century before, and hasn't found any solace since. Mari's hovel stands at the end of the alley before you.

In a manner, your business tonight is tied to Mari's fate. The Ripper is back, and with a vengeance. His tally is up to five--men this time, as well as streetwalkers. Your investigations have tracked The Ripper here, to the alley before you and Mari's hovel.

With a bitter, drizzle-soaked wind cutting into your cloaks, you find it sadly appropriate that the story should begin anew where it ended off a century ago...

Millers Court, the City of Portheor. The streets are choked with the poor and the dispossessed, begging for crumbs or a spare copper. Disease runs rampant, and the only solace is found in one of the many seedy taverns lining the filth-strewn streets and the prostitutes who work them.

And then there is the bad part of town; there is the East Ward. Unseen footfalls echo through the fog-shrouded cobblestone streets. Even during the day the thick mist hangs over the East Ward like a tattered blanket, choking the sun's rays and casting ominous shadows in every disease-filled corner.

The Cam Inn is a dilapidated monstrosity that looks as if it will tip over at any moment due to its rotting foundation. The smell of stale tobacco exudes through the cracked windows and rotting boards, and despite the less than reputable clientele the place caters to, the surrounding alleyways are eerily quiet.

Blackburn's Bakery lies across the way from the Cam Inn. With shifty eyes and a malnourished frame, rumors abound as to the strange ingredients in Blackburn's recipes. But something is keeping him in business.

A rat stirs in its nest in a darkened corner, and the fog turns into a wet mist. A crack of lightning brightens the sky for a flash, and the first drops of the rain splash on the filthy cobblestone street.

Somewhere in the distance a scream echoes through the night.

Autumn · Jul 11, 2007

Fen surveys the scene motionlessly as the first spots of rain start to patter against his hat. His eyes are narrowed as he looks about him. He expresses his feelings on the whole situation by spitting a brown gob into the gutter, shifting his plug of tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other. This place is diseased. Rotting, cancerous. You can smell it, taste it on the air. The city's sick, and these alleyways and hovels are its festering sores.

He smiles grimly, turning to his colleagues - or rather, the other hapless bastards he's happened to be thrown together with on this fool's errand. "Let's do this," he mutters in his normal gruff rasp. "Hang back fer a minute while I poke around a little, right? I'll give the signal when I want yeh to follow, but don't come makin' a lotta noise. If our man's in there then the less notice we give him the better off we'll be."

With that he sets off down the alley towards Mari's hovel. He doesn't sneak ostentatiously, hugging the wall, or anything like that, but he's careful that his boots don't ring out on the cobblestones.

Schmoe · Jul 11, 2007

Xao listens calmly to the scout, for now content to wait in the shadows of the alley. He has come here for matters of the spirit world, and it would not do to succumb to the dangers of the living - muggers, vermin, cutthroats. Xao's fingers fall to the worn wood of his old crossbow, just in case.

The scream Xao just heard could be the Ripper at it again, he knows that. But just as easily it could be anyone poor soul fallen victim to the anonymous streets. The matter of Mari Kell is his purpose, and that is where he will start.

"As you say, I will wait."

PhoenixAsh · Jul 11, 2007

Dacen flinches as the first drop of rain strikes the top of his head. He then sighs as the rain begins to patter down at a steady pace, beginning the steady process of soaking him. He stares hard at the rat in the corner, glaring as if it might be responsible for the weather. Or the circumstances that find him in this festering part of town. Or the tobacco-stained smile of Fen, which never fails to give him the creeps.

He nods at the scout's directions, however. Squinting at Fen through the mist, rain and darkened night as he moves into the alley, Dacen pulls his shield off of his back and straps it to his forearm. He doesn't trust his aim in these conditions. Besides, hitting something would calm his nerves.

"Misery of this place is infectious," he mutters. Glancing skyward briefly, he whispers. "Grant me restraint."

Rayex · Jul 11, 2007

As she feels the first drop of rain, Rexy glances up at the sky, but only for a moment. The raid won't bother her. Much. She's seen much worse on the river.

As the tobacco-chewing fellow carefully picks his way down the alleyway, she makes sure that her blade is easily accesible. Perhaps for the tenth time the last five minutes. Her hearth is beating faster than she is used to, but she keeps calm.

With a slight shake of her head, she mutters to herself. "Hang back for a minute.. I'll signal you to come... Who does he think he is, anyway..."

PhoenixAsh · Jul 11, 2007

"He wants to stick his neck out, let him. No skin off our backs, right?" he says quietly, overhearing the woman.

His lips twitch in a brief smile, but he doesn't let his gaze stray from the alleyway. He's pretty sure if he looks away he won't be able to pick up the scout again when he looks back.

industrygothica · Jul 12, 2007

Fen begins to head toward and around the corner when he notices a lone woman huddling against the buildings at the side of the street, evidently seeking some shelter from the dampness that chills the air and the misty rain that creeps through your clothing. She's a large, rawboned woman dressed in ragged garments, strong and yet not without her attractions. The woman lights a sturdy cigar, smokes half of it leisurely, and suddenly drops it as she noticed Fen, stubbing it out with the toe of her tattered shoe. Her narrowed eyes stare across the street at Fen, and, with apparent effort, she pushes herself from the wall and walks towards him.

Autumn · Jul 12, 2007

Fen stops, watching suspiciously as the woman advances through the thick, damp air. The only movement is his jaw, chewing away, and his hand as it flexes slightly near the handle of the crossbow that hangs at his waist. "No closer," he grates, his hand now coming to rest on the crossbow and his arm tensing up ready to draw. "Ya got somethin' t'say, say it from there."

Schmoe · Jul 12, 2007

As the wind blows down the alley, Xao shifts restlessly and eyes his companions. The scout has not yet returned. "I have a bad feeling about this. We came here to see a spirit, and I am the best equipped to deal with one, yet here I am. I will give Fen a few more moments, but I will not wait long."

PhoenixAsh · Jul 12, 2007

"It hasn't been that long... has it?" Doubt creeps into his voice where he had not intended it to be. He flexes the fingers of his shield hand, focusing a moment's attention to the simple act of maintaining circulation against the weight of the wooden shield on his arm.