Mage: The Awakening PbP - Nemesis

[Tokiwong]

Not wanting to disturb anything else that might hint at how she got in the badroom, she carefully made her way to the night stand and picked up the letter.

The plain white envelope is open, not sealed. Inside is a simple note hastily written in fairly legible print:

By Her grace She leaves this Ring
So we might find the Truth we seek.
She leaves this Robe of mystic night
So we might dwell beyond Their Sight.
This Scepter drawn She leaves for all
To brush aside Their distant calls.
She leaves to us this Crown of souls
To twist Their thralls toward our own goals
By Her grace She leaves this last
A Throne whose seat will let us pass

I have left you a gift in the night stand, thank you for your kindness.

- Gawain

 

[Shayuri]

Thessaly looks up when the bells on the door jingle, and forces a smile onto her face.

"Hello there, come on in and have a look around. Anything I can help you find?"

Even as she speaks, she feels herself sizing the customer up, trying to remember if this is someone she should remember or not.

 

[Tokiwong]

Thessaly looks up when the bells on the door jingle, and forces a smile onto her face.

"Hello there, come on in and have a look around. Anything I can help you find?"

Even as she speaks, she feels herself sizing the customer up, trying to remember if this is someone she should remember or not.

The customer does not look like anyone important, to say that he, and this was a nondescript gentleman in probably his mid thirties with brown hair and a plain face, nodded politely. He spoke in a normal tone, “No just browsing but thank you.”

He was about as average as average could be.

 

[Aenion]

The plain white envelope is open, not sealed. Inside is a simple note hastily written in fairly legible print:

By Her grace She leaves this Ring
So we might find the Truth we seek.
She leaves this Robe of mystic night
So we might dwell beyond Their Sight.
This Scepter drawn She leaves for all
To brush aside Their distant calls.
She leaves to us this Crown of souls
To twist Their thralls toward our own goals
By Her grace She leaves this last
A Throne whose seat will let us pass

I have left you a gift in the night stand, thank you for your kindness.

- Gawain

Thess' poem? The Eyes of Salt, we were going to examine the Eyes of Salt. What happened afterwards? What did they do to us? Or what did you do to us Gawain? Morrigan frowns, trying to mentally rebuild what might have happened that got her here. She puts the letter aside to see what Gawain has left her.

 

[Tokiwong]

Thess' poem? The Eyes of Salt, we were going to examine the Eyes of Salt. What happened afterwards? What did they do to us? Or what did you do to us Gawain? Morrigan frowns, trying to rebuild what might have happened. She puts the letter aside to see what Gawain has left her.

In the drawer of the night stand is a plain bell of silvery metal. It has no designs on the outside and seems rather plain, but right off Morrigan knows this is an object of power. There is no mistaking the buzz in the air, the tell-tale signs of something significant…

 

[Shayuri]

(I had a post but I bluescreened just as I posted...I'll have to edit it in later, as I'm too tired and livid to do it now. Consider this space reserved )

 

[Aenion]

In the drawer of the night stand is a plain bell of silvery metal. It has no designs on the outside and seems rather plain, but right off Morrigan knows this is an object of power. There is no mistaking the buzz in the air, the tell-tale signs of something significant…

Still frowning Morrigan examines the little bell. She was tempted to ring it, but she knows better than to use something this powerful without understanding it first. The shadows lengthen and the world takes on a grayish tint as she attunes her senses to Death.

ooc: Using her Grim Sight rote for 8 dice

 

[Festy_Dog]

Cymbeline replies slowly, “No, no blood… that I can see,” she slowly disentangles herself from the Guardian and sits up in the bed looking around. She rubs her forehead, “I don’t even know how I got here…”

Harlequin’s watch reads the 30th of August, making it a Wednesday. That means two days have passed since he arrived in town, two days he cannot account for…

“I hope you don’t think I am like…” she looks away obviously embarrassed.

"Eh? Cymbeline, technically speaking I've known you for all of a couple of hours, if that. I am yet to really get to know you, and I'm not about to let magically affected behaviour create a false image of the kind of person you really are."

Cymbeline's concerns over what Harlequin thought of her weren't the foremost thing on his mind. He needed to place such issues aside until other factors could be accounted for.

"We're missing two days, and the last thing I can remember is the group discussing whether we should take a look at those Eyes of Salt. Now we're here," Hal scratched his chin, "You've had a very eventful introduction to the world of Mages. If this all works out well it would be an excellent learning experience."

Harlequin gathered up his things.

"Once you feel presentable our first stop will be the reception desk."

 

[Tokiwong]

Still frowning Morrigan examines the little bell. She was tempted to ring it, but she knows better than to use something this powerful without understanding it first. The shadows lengthen and the world takes on a grayish tint as she attunes her senses to Death.

ooc: Using her Grim Sight rote for 8 dice

Morrigan gets 2 successes and activates the rote of Grim Sight. She gets only 1 success on an Intelligence + Occult check for scrutinizing the resonance of the object.

Morrigan uses the practiced rote and opens her supernal senses, she can see the inherent touch of death in the world, the creeping finality that spells the end of all things. This simple silver bell, this object of power has the touch of death about it, both old and new… it is an artifact of some power that much is clear to her mage sight.

But another object gets her attention as well, the bed… something died in this bed recently… perhaps within the last few weeks, perhaps a month. It was a perhaps a peaceful death, a dream that never ended.

Harlequin

Cymbeline replies shakily slowly getting dressed, her back to Harlequin, “So you think we were magically controlled? I am still new to this, so I find it a little scary that someone could have that much control over me or anyone. Who could do this? A Banisher?”

She pulls on her jeans and replies to the Guardian, “I am good, so we checking out?” She puts on her best smile and tries to do what Harlequin does stay focused on the task at hand and not worry about the more normal things, but obviously she looks more concerned with her appearance and just what was happening about two minutes ago.

She pauses at the door, “I hope it was good for you.”

 

[Festy_Dog]

"We were smiling, weren't we?" Harlequin replies with cheeky grin, and follows Cymbeline out.

He glances back at the room number before continuing on.

"Well, it's not so much my intent to check out. I'm curious to see how long I, you or we had booked, and under what names," Hal says, looking thoughtful, "I just hope whoever's on the desk can remember our faces."

Pausing for a moment to take a breath in, then out, Harlequin concentrates and tries to determine if his reserves of mana had changed since a couple of days ago. He also gingerly prods his arm and stomach as part of a crude attempt to see if he's feeling any better.

"Sorry, just needed to check a couple of things," he says, then abruptly changes the subject, "Now that you're a mage you need to be careful about giving out your name. Names have power."