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Chronicles of the Orrery

Naathez

Explorer
A man gets a broken tooth, he's slid down to third page before he can even notice... :(

Shameless bump. If tooth stops screaming, I should manage to post an update later during lunch break.

Stay tuned for "When the Inventor meets the Mage"!
Same Orrery-Time!
Same Orrery-Channel!
 

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Naathez

Explorer
When the Inventor meets the Mage

It is well past lunchtime when Lothar hands his horse's and his mule's reins to the stable boy of the Bucking Foal and steps in, a large leather bag slung over his shoulder. Seeing his medallion, bearing the Von Wulfe insignia, the innkeeper hurries over. "How may I be of assistance, Herr?" he asks, rubbing his hands.
"I'm Lothar Von Wulfe. If there still is something to eat, I'll have that. And I'll need a room for a few days."He presses a few coins into the innkeeper's hand, and the man gives orders for some roast to be brought, while he prepares a room.

At his table, where he's spent most of the past two days, Andoric Von Dreele's ears perk. Focusing his eyes on the newcomer, he is about to walk over to his table when someone else steps closer to the eating nobleman. Andoric sits back, waiting.

"Mein Herr? Forgive me if I disturb... but I noticed you as soon as you came in. Might I have a little of your time?"

Lothar looks up from his dish. The man is soft-spoken, and quite well dressed, for a commoner. "Yes?" he says, setting down his fork as the man sits at his table.
"My name is Gaurad, Herr. I am a merchant of rare and particular goods... as you came in, I couldn't help but notice your medallion. The Von Wulfe are a family of great importance in our lands, and i would be honored if you were to be interested in my merchandise. I have recently come into the possession or an object of wonderful manufacture... an object which would be a wonderful gift for a lady of your choosing, perhaps your Mother. It is an object of carved wood.. of excellent taste, truly. Would you be interested in seeing it?"
Lothar nods gruffly. "It might be interesting. I will grant you an hour of my time next morning, as I have a busy afternoon ahead." Gaurad bows and thanks him profusely before leaving.

Andoric hasn't dropped his attention, although Gaurad's voice was definitely too low to overhear. He pulls back his chair and slowly walks over to Lothar's table. "Herr?" he says.

Lothar's eyes roll for a second. He's about to look up when a boy comes skipping through the door, followed by a broad-shouldered man in a fur cloak. His pale blonde hair, fair skin, his attire, not to mention the large axe strapped to his back, instantly qualify him as a Viknij. The newcomer walks to the bar, where he sits, asking for "A mug of the wonderful beer you all have here, and something to eat maybe".

Andoric, momentarily distracted, snaps back to attention. "...Herr?"
"Yes?" Lothar replies, tearing his eyes from the weird newcomer.
"I am called Andoric. Andoric Von Dreele, Herr."
Lothar immediately shuffles his chair, making room for Andoric to sit. "Do sit here with me. I am glad we managed to meet so soon. My brother told me I would find you here."

The barely muffled sounds of Viktor eating at the bar attract their attention once more.
"Viknij" says Lothar, with a casual gesture. "They say they're as ferocious as boars. And, I'm told," he adds with a smile "just as difficult to wash." The two noblemen briefly laugh. "So, what can i do to assist my brother and the Academy?"

Andoric begins relaying his news. Everything the Seer told him, in detail, added to his own impressions. "And if the thaw isn't coming," he concludes "it means this nefarious influence is quite strong. It is definitely not a trifle to mess with forces as mighty as the coming of seasons." Lothar nods worriedly. As he rode through his lands towards Dresd, the peasants that offered him lodging for the night complained about the rivers thinning, too. What he had been tempted to take as simple complaints about a bad season is now starting to take a totally different face. "We shall have to investigate the matter most urgently" he replies. "I say we leave tomorrow: I'll need the afternoon to buy some supplies. I take it you are well versed in the alchemic arts, since my brother mentioned you are one of his most brilliant students. If you are new to the city, I can introduce you to a couple of very well stocked shopkeepers... and do you have a horse?" Andoric is forced to shake is head.
"We shall provide you with one. Now do have a cup of spiced wine with me" Lothar says with a smile. They leave shortly afterwards.

They are already fast asleep in their respective rooms when, late that night, Livia and Viktor arrive at the Inn. Sadly, they find Viktor was far too optimistic: only one room is left, and it's the attic. After a brief talk, where Livia uselessly attempts to convice Lothar of how polite it would be to leave the room to her and sleep in the stables, they both settle for the attic. As Livia pulls the blankets up around her, trying to fight the cold, the Viknij stretches on the straw that the Innkeeper put down on the wooden floor for him. His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep are that, accommodations being what they are, perhaps he should have chosen the stables. At least, horses don't usually tell you a hundred times to behave like a gentleman when they're sleeping ten feet away.
 


Naathez

Explorer
And again, back to the top with me!

I almost managed to out-run real life long enough to write the two next updates. If Ol' good Life doesn't catch me, expect them soon.

Things get pretty bad pretty fast in Dresd...

Disclaimer : this was put up on April 1st, but is NOT a joke. Stay tuned!!!
 

Naathez

Explorer
And then suddenly it all comes crashing down, or - Chases, Fires, and Night Rides

Morning - to be fully honest, quite late morning - finds Livia extremely eager for a bath. She cringes when she realizes they probably don't have bath-houses in this frozen place they persevere in calling a city... so she dresses up, keeping an eye on the sleeping Viktor, and walks downstairs.

Lothar is sitting at a table, eating breakfast, when he feels, and then sees, all heads turn up to the stairs. Voices immediately fall silent, people nudge at each other, pointing at the stairs and then touching their ears. Quite puzzled, Lothar looks up, to see a pretty lady walk down the steps, and suddenly notices her pointed ears. Andoric (who is still upstairs, "studying" he said) did mention that the Elves had sent out distress messages, but Lothar had found it quite hard to believe - Elves are at the border between fairy tale and history. Now he's seeing one of them, he thinks... only later, with a sudden memory Meister Otto would be proud of (or at least, so Lothar likes to think) he realizes the lady must be Lianer, and not an Elf or any other fancy. He quietly returns to his breakfast. Not so the other customers, who, in different variations of speed, hurry to finish their food and walk out. Soon Livia and Lothar are the only people left sitting in the room.

After calling a maid and gently asking her to prepare a hot bath -a request to which the woung girl sounds quite puzzled, as there's no festival coming up, but complies nonetheless - Livia studies the man carefully. His bearing, his composure, indicate a man of status, as does the medallion bearing what seems to be some kind of family crest.
A nobleman.
In other words, another possible source of a solution to her problem. She politely walked over to his table and smiled. "Greetings" she offered. "It seems everyone left and.. I was wondering whether I might sit here with you, Herr." She flashes him a winning smile. "I do believe a noblewoman can never find better company than a nobleman, even and especially when so far from her own country."
Lothar sighs very, very softly. A noblewoman. So he HAS to offer her a seat at his table. He stands up and politely pulls out the chair for her.
"Do sit... a pleasure. My name is Lothar Von Wulfe."
"And mine Livia... Livia Cecilia Metella. From the Republic of Lian , in the South."
Lothar nods in approval at this confirmation of his deduction. "And you are here... accompanying your father? or a brother perhaps? we are very far from your nation..." he asks, a tinge of curiosity in his voice.
Livia shakes her head, a little puzzled at his assumptions. "No, not at all. I am here alone... on business. Well, alone but for my bodyguard... a Viknij."
Lothar has a difficult time not making his eyes goggle. The woman is abroad ALONE. With a Viknij, of all things. Er, people.
Livia senses his discomfort - barbarian! probably used to women being herded as cattle! - and offers another smile. "But let's not talk about me all this much... I'm but a guest here. How about you, what do you do, Herr - what brings you here in this fine city?"
Lothar can't help but puff out his chest a tad. "I am here on business myself I could say... as for what I do, besides the duties and occupations that befit my rank, I pride myself in being called a scholar and man of knowledge. You have heard, perhaps, of Alchemy?"
Livia's training saves her from rolling her eyes. "Of course! Some kind of... magic practice it is?"
Lothar paternally shakes his head. "Why, milady, that is what MANY think. But no - Alchemy can be studied, as I am, under a totally different point of view... I like to call it "Chemistry". Let me tell you of the mere basics... "
When the maid arrives, after more than an hour, whispering to Livia that her bath is ready, the Lianer is so grateful she could hug her then and there. She quickly excuses herself, waving up to Viktor as he walks down the stairs. The Viknij lets out an exasperated sigh - how's he supposed to protect her if she keeps not telling him where she's going - but he sits and orders some breakfast - bread and beer.

About an hour later, Lothar's still sitting there, waiting for Andoric to finish his studying and come downstairs so they can discuss plans, and meanwhile half-cringing at the mere idea of drinking three mugs of beer for breakfast, when the man who approached him yesterday walks into the common room, sees him, and politely walks over and offers a small bow. "Herr? you promised me a little of your time yesterday... if I can dare..." Lothar nods, offering him a seat. "Let us see what you have brought me, good man" he says, as the man pulls out a wooden scroll tube with exquisite carvings.

Livia, who has been luxuriating in the feel of hot water cleaning dust and grime, has just dried and gotten dressed - thanking the maid on her way out for standing guard at the door - when, stepping back in the common room, her eyes scan the almost empty inn and take in the sight of Gaurad showing her precious order box to Lothar. She gasps, motioning for Viktor to come closer. "It's him! He's the one who stole my papers... er... my things!" Viktor cannot help but smile a little, as he turns and walks over to the table, an enraged Livia following close.

Meanwhile, Lothar's been examining the object. The workmanship is excellent; the carving is a work of art, and the leather details are seamlessly worked in. He believes the thing might even be waterproof - which makes it even more interesting. It's when he casually unscrews one of the ends and pulls out the piece of scroll contained in the tube that things start going downhill. The "merchant's" eyes goggle - it is clear he had no idea ANYTHING was in the tube. And Viktor steps in and glares at Gaurad. "You have something that isn't yours, little man. Now you'll give it back, so one day, when you recover, you may be able to tell someone this story." His hand casually grips the table so strong that the knuckles become white. "Yes, and you'll give it back to ME" Livia adds, fuming.
Lothar looks up at the two, then back to Gaurad, lifting an eyebrow, the tube in one hand, the scroll in the other.
Gaurad fidgets, as if looking for something to say. He tries a little smile, looks around...

and suddenly darts out the door. As Livia screams "No! Get him!" Lothar jumps up from his chair, grabbing his bag and starting to run after the man. Viktor is much more practical. Reacting quickly, he pulls out a broad dagger from his boot and throws it at Gaurad's leg. The man is hit, but he keeps running. With a muttered curse, Viktor sprints after him too.

The bustle from downstairs finally convincing him that this is no place to study, Andoric puts his books away and walks to the common room. He is on the stairs just in time to see the last of Viktor running out, and Livia still half-shocked in the middle of the room.

"What's happened?" he shouts, hurrying down.
She looks up at him. "He's running! It's him! Lothar has it!" she screams in rage, and then runs out after the three.
Wondering why, recently, he can never seem to get easy answers to perfectly legitimate questions, Andoric sprints after her.

The chase through the alleys is frantic but short-lived - Gaurad's wounded, and he can't manage to outrun his pursuers. Finally Viktor is holding him by his neck, against a wall, when Lothar, and soon, the others, reach him. Gaurad seems to have fainted, probably when Viktor "retrieved" his dagger.

Lothar is half-enraged. "What were you trying to do, kill him? He's a thief, not some murderer! There's guards for these things - why in the world did you need to throw a dagger at him?"
Viktor seems quite puzzled. "Because he was running away?" he offers.
"That is NOT the way things are done! Didn't you even think what would happen, were you caught throwing daggers at people? You wouldn't have been any better off than him" he points at Gaurad " or perhaps even worse! I don't care how you do things in your islands, but here is a civil place. You'll do things PROPERLY while you're here."
Viktor manages to keep his anger under control. "Well, you catch him next time, then." He lets Gaurad drop to the ground, just as Livia and Andoric, quite breathless, catch up.
"Will you give me my papers NOW!" an exasperated Livia exclaims, reaching for the scroll. Having obtained it, she slumps against a wall, catching her breath while she reads. It proves to be no easy task, and her face is paler as she reads the last lines and looks up.
Meanwhile, Andoric is heavily leaning agaisnt another wall, panting and breathlessly requesting, his voice a tad shriller than usual, that he be told WHAT is happening. Explanations are quickly made, as Livia tells them (without what she deems as unnecessary, and others would perhaps call embarassing, details) of the stealing of her papers - even as she shreds them, an act that makes Viktor's eyes bulge out in fury at all the effort he made for a piece of scroll so useless that she SHREDS it - and thanks them for their assistance in recovering them.
The four let Gaurad go, not before promising him far less lenient treatment if they ever catch him again, and walk back to the Bucking Foal Inn. They have lunch together, a meal during which Livia seems to never stop asking questions about the state of the land, about people, and about magic especially. Lothar and Andoric discuss the matter and, while preferring not to let her in on any details, admit they are investigating certain grave matters, and agree to have Livia and Viktor along, since she seems so concerned. The afternoon is spent buying supplies, and horses, after which Lothar's purse is definitely not as heavy anymore. They resolve to leave in the early morning, and go to their separate rooms after a light dinner.

But their plans are not to see completion. In the middle of the night, they are awoken by screams of terror and sounds of running people. They learn a fire has started and is burning through the city at an alarming rate. Lothar tries organizing a squad to fight the raging fire, but people seem far too terrified; he does learn though, to his dismay, that the fire seems to have originated, unexplainably, in the old graveyard, though there seems to be nothing there that could catch fire - or burn, at that. Puzzled, he climbs up to the inn's attic, and on the roof, his eyes opening wide as he sees the extent of the flames. Some guards seem to be doing their best to fight the fire with buckets of water. Then they run away, screaming in terror... Lothar sees people who have caught on fire, shambling out of the flames. He cringes in horror.

Then he notices. The burning people are he only ones NOT screaming.
They walk slowly, awkwardly.
They don't seem to be in pain at all.
And they're going inside houses and setting them on fire.

His heart missing a heartbeat, he scrambles down and gathers his friends. They all ride for the city doors.
"If we hurry" he shouts over the din "we can make it out of the city before the flames cut our way -" A terrible noise covers the end of his words, as a house, attacked by the flames, collapses no more than thirty feet from them. The horses rear and neigh, momentarily out of control.

And the four see them coming.

They're a dozen at least... their faces seem to be contorted in pain, but as they close in they notice it's simply the missing chunks of flesh from their faces. Flames dance on their bodies, but they make no sound... mindlessly, slowly, relentlessly, they shamble towards the party.

Lothar manages to send off Livia's and Andoric's horses, who both dash towards the doors. Viktor's... Viktor's seem to be far worse. They both try to regain control of the mount, but to no avail.

And the burning dead approach.

Finally Lothar shakes his head, groaning in frustration. "Jump!" he shouts, and as soon as Viktor is on his horse, he dashes off. The neighs of pain as the horse is eaten alive by the burning horrors is not a sound they'll forget anytime soon.

Another ugly surprise is found at the city gates. The portcullis is down, and there are no guards at the doors - probably deployed, they all think, to fight the fire. Lothar dismounts, opening his leather bag and pulling out a large wooden object. He unfolds two metal bars that snap in place, and grabs what is now clear to be a large crossbow, snapping a wooden container in its underside. Motioning for Viktor to follow him, he enters the tower where he hopes the wheel for pulling up the portcullis rests.

Viktor immediately founds the large winching mechanism, and sets to work, his powerful muscles moving what is clearly meant for two men to operate. It'll definitely take some time.

Meanwhile, Lothar steps up another flight of stairs, to find himself in the uppermost room. A trapdoor on the celing probably leads to the roof. The clanging of chains covering all other noise, he climbs the ladder and tries to push the trapdoor open. Something stops him, and he hears steps above.
With a deep breath, crossbow loaded and ready, he pushes harder, trapdoor slamming open as he emerges on the roof.
Nothing happens. Careful to remain behind the cover of the open trapdoor, he peers around the roof. Across from him is a figure cloaked in an ample cloak, standing perfectly still. "Don't move" Lothar threatens. The figure doesn't react in the least, but Lothar hears a soft whisper behind himself. He spins, feet precariously perched on the ladder rungs, cocking his crossbow as he moves. Just as he turns, he sees a man appear where noone was to be seen. His hair is long and white, braided; his face is old, and wrinkled, his eyes piercing even in the flame-lit darkness. He wears a long, dark robe, and his hands are like claws as he throws some kind of pellet to the floor, where it blossoms instantly in a bleached-white skeleton, a soft red lumiescence filling the empty sockets above its terrifying sneer. Totally taken aback, Lothar completely misses his first shot. Muttering a curse, even as the skeleton's claw leave a deep gash in his cheek, he pulls a lever on his weapon, and another bolt springs up in place. Taking careful aim now, even as he sees with the corner of his eye the white-haired man run and LEAP off the tower without a scream, he shoots. The bolt impacts with the skull and it bursts into shards. The unholy creature falls to the floor in a clatter of bones, which rapidly turn to fine dust. Andoric, who has heard Lothar's curse, and noticed the white-haired man appear on the tower's battlement, dashes up the stairs to find the weary nobleman on the roof, looking out in the distance, shaking his head. Somehow, the man has disappeared.

Once again climbing on their saddles, the party sets off towards south. All they know is they want to be as far as possible, as soon as possible. Behind them, in the velvet blackness of the night, the proud city of Dresd burns red with raging flames.
 

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