Castle Amber: the West Wing

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ravenn4544
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#41 Post by ravenn4544 »

Bob finishes his drink, burps, and looks for seconds....

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#42 Post by Dram »

Drexlar- Sheds his cloak. Making sure his important belongings are on his person. I have heard of creatures like them from stories as a youngin. I thought them just stories to keep us travelling off into the depths of the mountains.
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#43 Post by GreyWolfVT »

Drago upon second thought changes his mind about the pack "Actually come to think of it, forget the question about packs I'm fine just toting mine around. So where is our lovely host?"
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
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― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#44 Post by Cwreando »

Andor steps forward, "Ok, shall we greet our host? I'd like to hear what they have to say. This all seems a little odd to me." He looks at the others and says,"Keep your wits about you." The hair on his neck reminds him to be careful in this place.
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#45 Post by Marlowe641 »

Bors Pitkin agrees with Andor. I am not amused by our apparent kidnapping. I also want to know the reason for this and what these "lords" have to say for themselves. If we are all ready let us move on.

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#46 Post by Urson »

Varla

The priestess whispers a brief prayerGreat Lord, shield us, your servants, then nods.
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#47 Post by Spearmint »

Robespierre nods politely and feigns harassment at the number of questions suddenly directed to him."Questions, ah yes and of course. There are many things to be answered and many things to be left unsaid.", he pockets the 'tip' offered to him by Drago, smiling but muttering inaudibly enough to be momentarily audible. "Cheapskate!" but folds his cloak neatly across one arm, the one still holding the tray quite dextrously. "The gardeners Ma'am, well I do believe they were sort of guests too though that may have been long, long ago. So few pass by these days, you would think I should remember. There is a guest book on the desk of course and you may sign it at your leisure."he points to the desk but you note that the ledger is absent, its presence perhaps marked by the large square of paler dust on the surface. An ink pot and quill stand idly by. "As to the 'Rightful' (he seems to emphasis this word), heirs or princes of Glantri , I offer you this advice, the glory of this house shall return once more to its' rightful place. Ahem, your pardons" he says both sternly and then at the end embarrassed for his outspoken words.

"As to the blowing of the wind Sir, I am not sure, either it was foully made to keep us in or divinely blessed to keep you out? (he shrugs as if excepting that it is just always been that way), I do believe it is prudent to leave all introductions to Sir Amberville, Monsieur Jean-Louis. He is about 'his sports' by the hue and cry going on." Robespierre nods in the direction of the open doorway.

Viola Belle takes a mental note of the surroundings. It is ornate and opulent but also lacking in the finesse that a lady might require. Dust lies on higher to reach surfaces and the arranging of the ornaments leaves a little to be desired. The compulsive obsessive amongst you might well go and re-arrange them in size or colour. The porcelain figures resemble a pastoral hunting scene, a large boar, a centaur, a unicorn, a dryad, etc. Approaching the hat stand one of the hands slowly opens up as if ready to grip a hold of something placed within its grasp. The folk finish drinks, (sorry no seconds unless you swig the decanter...) and follow the butler forward through the open doors into the dark carpeted hallway beyond. Fog shrouded windows again let in little light though enough to see the carpet stretching a full 80'ft ahead of you to a pair of closed double doors. To the right hand is another single open door and the butler steps inside and coughs rather loudly to announce his presence.

"My Lord, pardon my 'interrupteries' but the guests seem to have arrived. I do believe they are another (here the butler utters a word in some lost dialect, frowning in your directions), welcome them as you will Sire."Robespierre does a short bow to a seated figure and heralds you in by waving a hand as if rotating it like a kitchen whisk.

This room is luxuriously furnished with plush chairs, polished wood tables, ornate rugs and other fine furniture. The furniture has been pushed back against the walls and the carpets have been rolled up. In the middle of the floor, an impromptu boxing ring has been set up. In one corner of the ring a man stands as still as a statue with his hands raised in the boxing guard position. This man is wearing amber silk trunks. You notice that his skin has an unreal quality. Seated near the boxer is a man dressed in colourful silks, fancy lace and rich velvets. He also wears a large-brimmed hat flaunting a peacock’s feather. A jewelled rapier is slung on his right side on a supple leather baldric. He has wavy black hair and a closely trimmed beard which comes to a point. Two men in plate mail carrying halberds stand as guards on either side of the richly dressed man. Another pair of similar dressed guards are dragging an unconscious and bloody man in fighting shorts away from the ring and the dump him unceremoniously in a corner. His face is a pulp of bruises and cuts, his breathing ragged. The guards turn to take a position at one corner of the ring, their placid flesh has the same unreal quality as the victorious boxer’s. The seated man’s flesh does not have this quality. He looks quite ruddy and fresh though a little intoxicated from some drink. A few empty bottles of labelled wine lie rolling under his chair. While the chairs have been pushed back, they all face toward the boxing ring. Floating above the centre of each chair is a pair red unblinking eyes that turn to stare at your arrival.

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#48 Post by GreyWolfVT »

Drake (Drago) Montillo enters the room and bows to everyone within even the odd floating eyes "Drake Drago Montillo dabbler in the arcane arts, adventuring wizard at your service." the mage then stands smiling politely awaiting the return greeting and to be offered a seat, stepping aside so as not to block his fellow adventurers from entering the room and introducing. "My it looks as if that fellow there lost the match. Brutish sport but always entertaining to watch. Will there be another contender?" the mage asks while waiting politely near the entry.
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred
"If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#49 Post by Bluehorse »

Viola Bell

Eyes the "challenger" that fell taking careful note of where and how he is hurt, specifically if he seems more damaged on one side of the face or body than the other which may give some clue to how the standing champion fights. She then slowly walks over beside Drake, her eyes ever darting and taking in details of all her suroundings and those occupying them. She looks hard at both the fighter and who must be at first glance considered their host, but looks for any signs that this could be a game. What if the master of the house likes to play thug and has a lacky to play the part of Noble host until the time is right to reveal the game? She had know some nobles in her past life that did such things. Once there was even a royal daughter that passed herself off as her own handmaid while her servant waked forward dressed in her royal garb. It was lucky that she did too, since it twarted an assasssination attempt.

Once she is sure she is addressing the correct host (Whichever that may be,) she will give a graceful and practiced curtsy that seems ironic in her rogue's garb. "Master Amberville."

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#50 Post by Scott308 »

Lady Ryllae Glynberos

The elven cavalier steps forward, introducing herself. Lord Amberville, I am Lady Ryllae Glynberos, daughter of Baron Elandorr Glynberos of Alfheim. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord, and wish to thank you on behalf of my traveling companions for opening your home to us and providing us with your hospitality.
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#51 Post by Urson »

Varla

Varla steps forward to join the others. She sketches a bow as Sophie sits politely beside her.I am Varla Torun, Sister of the Order of the Scarlet Rood. This is a beautiful home you have, sir.

She hurries over to the fallen boxer, ready to give aid.
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#52 Post by ravenn4544 »

Bob holds up his empty glass, ignoring the fighting antics, clearly trying to not stare at the floating eyes- and failing. "Um... how 'bout that drink?"

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#53 Post by Marlowe641 »

Bors Pitkin Bors Pitkin`s me name, currently of no fixed abode. Thank you for you hospitality. . Bors bows then stands with his hands on his belt examining the room and occupants.

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#54 Post by Dram »

Drexlar bows to the Lord Drexlar Liathor finder of lost artifacts. Well met sir.
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#56 Post by GreyWolfVT »

Drake looks at Viola quizzicality one eyebrow raised "What? I'm not your escort Lady Viola." then rolling his eyes and acting highly irritated he clears his throat "Introducing Lady Viola Belle." he says with a flourish and waving his hands towards Viola. "Is that better Lady Viola?"
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred
"If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling

Algrim Tirion Dwarf - HarnMaser
Dalin Silverhand Dwarf Thief - Barrowmaze
Elwood 'Dug' The Bounty Hunter Dwarf Swashbuckler - Hedge's Adventures in the World of Golarion
Roan Gravelbeard Dwarf Fighter - Hedge's Greyhawk Adventures
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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#57 Post by Stirling »

Wommack

The ranger decides to be the last to enter the 'sports' room. Instead wandering down the corridor to the other door and opening it a little to peer inside. He is all fidgety, with the new surroundings and obviously more at ease in the forest or some mead hall than a nobleman's luxury mansion. If the corridor is all quiet and Wommacks' absence is not noted by the butler, I wouldn't mind creeping quietly back to the first foyer. You mentioned the hat and coat stand. Nobody searched any of the pockets, perhaps there is some letter or information, journal in any of the pockets?


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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#59 Post by Spearmint »

Sir Amberville, Monsieur Jean-Louis unsteadily rises to his feet and takes off his hat for an impromptu bow He still bends over to wave his hat theatrically around several times and then sits back down in the chair wearily and fingers under the ornate chair for a bottle of wine. One just on the edge of his fingertips he can't quite manage to grasp and it rolls in slow circles to the feet of Bob. who is looking for more from the empty decanter on the serving tray of Robespierre. With a look towards Jean-Louis he picks it up and with a jewelled corkscrew somehow retrieved from an inner cloak pocket he pours another glass for Bob. It tastes quite dry with a subtle hint of blackcurrants and cherry.

"More guests did you say Robespear? More patrons? Maybe we have some fine patrons of the 'arts' here hmmm?" The seated lord eyes the party, "Your pardon I am Jean-Louis, Lord of all I survey, which is not a great deal but worth more than most can tell. Do you like my men? hmm, charming specimens they are too, strong and for a change obedient. We like obedient don't we, Robesprune?"

Lady Ryllae, gracious as ever makes her introduction."Daughter of the house of Glynberos eh? How goes the principality of Alfheim. Still have civil war perhaps. Inbreds fighting inbreds if you ask me, but you didn't so I won't say. No more half bloods among you are there? dreadful lot those, all impotent and not knowing which half they belong to." says the lord who shakes his head."My I do like the look of your shield. Seems the old house has improved in stature and fortune. Long time since I heard from that place but you look nonetheless quite radiant my dear, just radiant. I don't suppose one of these is your champion is he?"


Viola Belle, Drake and Sister Varla make hurried introductions and rush to aid the prone boxer. "Nothing you can do for him I'm afraid. Waste of space and a waste of money too I suspect, had him down at least for another round or two. Doesn't anyone have any balls to stand and fight like a man... or a dwarf perhaps...any dwarves up for a bit of grappling?

Checking the man out he is bruised from several jabs and suffered a knockout from a left arm uppercut which seems also to have knocked out several teeth which have been spat out along the floor. Several body slams show cracked ribs and his visage is swelling from fractures to cheekbones. His nose bent at an odd angle. The man is wearing only patterned sports shorts and oddly woollen knee length socks over leather sandals. He still wears his boxing gloves which hang heavy at the end of limp arms. He whispers faintly to the trio of leering faces which pour over him, I fought the good fight of faith, but not a good fight, I bequeath my all to you." the man passes out gazing at his waist it seems the only muscle left standing at the end of a brutal beating his erection.

Bors, Andor and Drexlar greet the man and survey the scene. The arcane eyes which you see floating above the chairs blink in succession to you but just remain hovering above the cushions.

Wommack scouts inside as any trusty or untrusting ranger can and then about turns to go rogue and pilfer a few pockets from the jackets held in the magic hands. Opening the doors you see a long corridor running eastwards. The corridor is full of thousands of shiny mirrors. A scarlet mixed weave carpet runs the entire length of the hallway, placed upon shining white marble tiles. It seems quite and though footsteps are heard disappearing into the far distance. In the pockets you find a few loose coins and some papers, not journals but a torn shred of parchment which seems to have suffered from some acid burns.

actions and verbals please

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Re: Castle Amber: the West Wing

#60 Post by Urson »

Varla
The warpriestess eyes the man's equipment for a moment, allowing herself a grin. Then, she sets to work with her mundane first-aid kit, blotting away the blood and wrapping the man's ribs. This is going to hurt, buddy- and nothin' I can do about it. She quickly pulls and twists to straighten the man's broken nose and clear his airway, then splints it.
She glares up at Sir Amberville. Do people mean that little to you? As if he's not even worth the effort of easing his pain? Due respect to your position, sir- you're an absolute bastard.

Our Leader, tend this warrior's pain. she prays.

Sophie stands alertly beside her, ready to defend or attack as needed.
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