Malvoisin's Council of Thieves, Act I - The Bastards of Erebus [IC]

[CanadienneBacon]

Frowning at the unaccustomed passionate lilt to Janiven's words, Quinne stands stock still beside the buffet table as a mixture of irritation, anger, and fear roil inside her gut. About to open her trap to bark out that the restitution of the city and its folk is better left to those better trained at arms than this rag-tag bunch of street horrors, Quinne snaps her mouth shut hard as she realizes that she's now counted a rag-tag street horror. The knock at the door brings Quinne to her senses, and she deftly reaches for the blade at her back and takes quick steps toward the door.

[sblock=OOC]Draw greatsword, move to within 5 feet of door.[/sblock]

 

[SelcSilverhand]

Listening to her impassioned plea, Mero feels something stir inside him. She's good he thinks to himself as he listens intently. Weighing the his options mentally, the ponders the proposal. On one hand, if he sides with these rebels and goes up against the government he could likely hang for it. On the other hand, did he really want to go back to a life of aimless wandering searching for the next thrill? Here was a chance to make a new discovery and learn exactly what the strange shadow creatures were.
The knock at the door brings his attention back to the room and he looks around startled. "Expecting anyone?" he asks in a low voice. Coming to a sudden decision, he stands up and hops down from his stool. "Let's see what they want, maybe my "Grand Reopening Job Interview" story will hold water better with these folks than that sharp one." He nods his head in Marcus's direction and walks towards the door, preparing to open it.

 

[Scott DeWar]

"Good point that." says Marcus with a wink to Mero. He eases his hand away from the rapier and stands at forced ease, ready to draw steel at the first need.

 

[CanadienneBacon]

"Get back and be quiet!" hisses Quinne at Mero and Marcus, using the flat of greatsword to bar their path to the door. "If it's the Dottari, the last thing we want is to be seen here!" Careful to keep her voice low, Quinne nevertheless does her best to prevent anyone from opening the door--from either direction. With a hand gesture, Quinne indicates for everyone to hold their ground and wait it out.

 

[Maidhc O Casain]

Slip

[whispers]"Hsst! She's got the right of it - wait for Janoven's lead!"

She quietly eases her blade from its back-sheathe.

 

[Scott DeWar]

marcus will find a dark corner and loosen his rapier of its sheath. the spot he looks for is to be away from a window.

 

[SelcSilverhand]

Mero tries to hide a nervous gulp as the large woman unsheathes a blade twice as tall as him. He holds up his hands in pacification and backs away, moving off to the side. Could be some violence here, not sure on these others. It'd go bad to be associated with a bloodbath. Well, that and a seditious meeting... He quickly begins assessing the room for any place small enough for a gnome to escape out of.

 

[Malvoisin]

As everyone else holds his ground, Janiven maintains a defensive posture and carefully crosses the taproom to peer out a front window. After but a moment's glance, she relaxes, albeit slightly, and quickly moves to unlock the door.

In stumbles an out-of-breath and frightened-looking teenager, with a befreckled face, and shaggy mop of dark hair on his head.

Janiven swiftly closes and relocks the door before rounding on the lad, concern and alarm tinging her voice in equal measure. "Morosino, what is going on..."

"They've got Arael!" the lad spits out, then immediately doubles over in a fit of coughing, as though brought on by a long run.

Janiven’s face grows grim as she gingerly pats Morosino on the back, in what can only be presumed to be a comforting gesture. In a moment the lad recovers enough to continue, “The dottari nabbed Arael, and the Hellknights of the Rack are trying to get custody of him! There’s a bunch of Hellknights on their way here now! I only just made it in here; they’ve already..."

Morosino's conclusion is almost drowned out by the unmistakable clank of heavy armor from out in the street. "...surrounded us." The boy's voice trails off weakly, as he looks fearfully to Janiven for the next move.

 

[Scott DeWar]

Malcom respons bu repeating the word hellknights in a voice so low its whisper is nothing more then a movement of air. his hand releses the hilt of athe rapier, as it is very ineffective against the heavy armor of the feared ones.

He looks to the hosess for her leadership.

 

[Maidhc O Casain]

Slip

Oh, crap.

Slip tightens her grip on her weapon, her eyes searching for a way out of the trap.