Paridon: The Dark Metropolis (Ravenloft)
- Thread starter InVinoVeritas
- Start date
InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
(Grr, sorry. Busy weekend.)
Perrin and Fr. Berman look around, intently. The candle illuminates the clocks. The clocks keep time together. The ballerina looks somewhat crude, simple, the work of someone far less skilled than Pigglemorth--perhaps one of Ada's earliest works. Perrin finds a few brass clockmaker's tools underneath a mannequin--large, tough... and with a stain of blood on the handle.
Out of curiosity, Fr. Berman winds up the ballerina, to see how it works. Light tinkling music plays, and the ballerina spins and attempts a stiff dance. It loses balance and falls over.
As the ballerina lands, Perrin and Fr. Berman hear a thump from one of the side rooms. They head over, listen at the door, hear nothing, and reach for the doorknob...
Calahan smacks a clock to the ground.
Calahan's handiwork.
The enforcer pokes his head into the shop, watching as the investigators wrestle with each other. He turns to Darian. "Um... Yes, sir... Right away, sir..."
[sblock=credits]
Photo by beforethecoffee.
[/sblock]
Perrin and Fr. Berman look around, intently. The candle illuminates the clocks. The clocks keep time together. The ballerina looks somewhat crude, simple, the work of someone far less skilled than Pigglemorth--perhaps one of Ada's earliest works. Perrin finds a few brass clockmaker's tools underneath a mannequin--large, tough... and with a stain of blood on the handle.
Out of curiosity, Fr. Berman winds up the ballerina, to see how it works. Light tinkling music plays, and the ballerina spins and attempts a stiff dance. It loses balance and falls over.
WHUMP.
As the ballerina lands, Perrin and Fr. Berman hear a thump from one of the side rooms. They head over, listen at the door, hear nothing, and reach for the doorknob...
SMASH!
Calahan smacks a clock to the ground.
Calahan's handiwork.
The enforcer pokes his head into the shop, watching as the investigators wrestle with each other. He turns to Darian. "Um... Yes, sir... Right away, sir..."
[sblock=credits]
Photo by beforethecoffee.
[/sblock]
Le Noir Faineant
Explorer
Calahan suddenly stops wrestling, and lets Ru lead him away from the clocks.
His face is covered with sweat, and his hands are visibly trembling, as he looks for something to sit down upon...
"I- I am sorry... Seems I drank a bit too much last night... Always makes me dizzy three days in a row, that darn green faerie..."
His face is covered with sweat, and his hands are visibly trembling, as he looks for something to sit down upon...
"I- I am sorry... Seems I drank a bit too much last night... Always makes me dizzy three days in a row, that darn green faerie..."
InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
Perrin at the ready, Fr. Berman grabs the dusty brass doorknob and peers in. The room is dark, and nothing moves. Nothing attacks. The constables open the door a little wider to let more light in.
The door's shadow peels away from the contents of the room. The room is meticulous, with a lace-covered bed against the back wall, a dainty workbench with plans and little brass gears and a half-finished baby doll, and folded paper figures covering the walls. Only one item appears out of place--a clockwork ballerina, about a foot high, wearing a stylized wedding dress, slumps face down in the center of the room.
His hair brushing against the ceiling, Fr. Berman stoops to cross the threshold into the room, slowly, by one step. There is a hissing, like an odd, hollow sigh. The door's shadow parts to reveal one last mystery: a tattered, stained, singed wedding dress appears, and its owner steps forward. Her hair is mostly burned away, her joints seem to rattle slightly with the sound of metal on metal, and a quiet gurgling can be hears. Her face is charred, and bits of metal show through where the skin is burned away.
You're not daddy.
[sblock=credits]
Photo by ViaMoi.
[/sblock]
The door's shadow peels away from the contents of the room. The room is meticulous, with a lace-covered bed against the back wall, a dainty workbench with plans and little brass gears and a half-finished baby doll, and folded paper figures covering the walls. Only one item appears out of place--a clockwork ballerina, about a foot high, wearing a stylized wedding dress, slumps face down in the center of the room.
His hair brushing against the ceiling, Fr. Berman stoops to cross the threshold into the room, slowly, by one step. There is a hissing, like an odd, hollow sigh. The door's shadow parts to reveal one last mystery: a tattered, stained, singed wedding dress appears, and its owner steps forward. Her hair is mostly burned away, her joints seem to rattle slightly with the sound of metal on metal, and a quiet gurgling can be hears. Her face is charred, and bits of metal show through where the skin is burned away.
You're not daddy.
[sblock=credits]
Photo by ViaMoi.
[/sblock]
Le Noir Faineant
Explorer
Okay, that pic will haunt me in my nightmares tonight.
Yikes! This is quite a test of faith ... I have faith in Ezra, don't I?
Father Berman lowers his dragon pistol, though he doesn't holster it, and with his left hand he grasps the butterfly symbol on his necklace and holds it forth. He tries to keep his voice steady.
"No, I'm not your daddy, but as a priest I am Father to all. What did your daddy do ... to you?"
Father Berman lowers his dragon pistol, though he doesn't holster it, and with his left hand he grasps the butterfly symbol on his necklace and holds it forth. He tries to keep his voice steady.
"No, I'm not your daddy, but as a priest I am Father to all. What did your daddy do ... to you?"
Le Noir Faineant
Explorer
Upstairs, Calahan finally manages to get a grip on himself.
"C-Colleagues, m-maybe we go and look for the others again...?"
"C-Colleagues, m-maybe we go and look for the others again...?"
industrygothica
Adventurer
Ivid said:
"I'll not be caught in a fight in those cramped quarters. Yell at them from the top of the stairs, if something is there, then they can draw it out."
