The Unseen Servant forums

The tall, morose and monotone butler addresses you all. "Guests, arrgh, they come and go, come yes but where they go to I know not. Still yes, yes, we may have more room in the garden stables for your mounts. let me call TuTu. he was a former guest here as well." The butler seems to cough, almost inaudibly and after a long pause you hear a soft clip-clop, clip-clop sound approaching from the outskirts of the mist along a gravel path.

An old wizened visage peers at you from the edge of the path, a humanoid figure wearing a leathery waistcoat. He carries a sickle and from his neck hangs a small wooden flute. From the waist down the man wears no garments, what you may have thought were fur leggings actually reveal to be fur legs. The humanoid is a satyr, half man, half goat. Though from his streaked beard and long face and very earthy smell, you may wonder just how much half man remains. Tutu waves a hand to the party and takes a nod from the butler, approaching he takes the reins of the pack mules. "We have room for sure, in the stables, plenty of fresh hay and grain, plenty of mucking out too..." the satyr kicks out one leg and throws several clods of horse turd from off his cloven hoof. He roughly snaps the buckles on the pack backs and releases the strappings, causing the load to fall roughly to the gravel floor. "My pardons 'Sirs and Ladies', but no room, no room for those, you'll have to play donkey and carry them inside yourselves. "

The butler coughs again to get your attention, "Yes, 'Sirs and Ladies' indeed. All brave adventurers and expected too, or so I imagine. Let me introduce myself. I am 'Robespierre', humble servant and butler to the family' de Amberville. I was requested to offer drinks but only have eight glasses. Perhaps one of you is not so expected? Still be welcome one and all, may I pour for anyone before you enter the Chateau?"

Behind the butler you see twin large oak bound wooden doors at the top of a small flight of steps. They stand in a small stone arch with four small sculpted columns holding up a porch roof. The stone looks weathered and mould grows on some sections. It still appears sound and solid, having withstood decades of erosion. The open doors lead in to a small ante-chamber, wooden panelling and tiled floor can just be made out. The mist continues to swirl around, slowly encroaching upon the remains of your camp. Shadowy figures move deep within the mist but you cannot make out their forms as the mist washes grey and smokey. Those standing close to the mist feel the urge to cough and choke on the fumes, as if the mist had a fire like source.

actions please


[img][/img]

Drago holds up a hand to ward off the drink offer "None for me thanks, perhaps I was expected to decline the drink thus the one less to offer Robespierre. Thank you though but I will pass on the drink." the wizard or mageling picks up his pack "No room not a problem Tutu I'll carry mine. Thank you for kindly tending to our mules. A Pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Lady Ryllae Glynberos

Accepting one of the offered glasses and sipping from it with no hesitation, the elven cavalier replies, Thank you. Despite the odd, and still unknown, circumstances of our arrival here, it is good to see that the de Amberville family is at least familiar with the convention of hospitality afforded to one of my station.

Andor takes a glass as well but is more cautious and smells the drink and takes a drop on his tongue. If it is bitter our irritating he does not drink from the glass any further. If he senses no other ill effects within a few minutes he continues as if he planned on drinking anyway.

"Ah Robespierre is it. It is thoughtful of the family to provide refreshments. How long have you been employed for the family? Ah and Thank you TuTu for attending our mounts. Perhaps there is someplace to store the gear in the Chateau then? Robespierre, does the Chateau always appear here? We did not notice it last night when we arrived to set up camp. Has it always been here?"

Andor takes what gear he needs too, if his mount had any that could not be kept in the stable, as he listens to their responses.

Bors Pitkin eyes the drink suspiciously but takes one with a gruff "Harrumpf" then waits until others have drunk (and shown no I'll effects) before quaffling it in one. "First good thing about this day" he says referring to the drink. He shoulders his pack containing all his worldly possessions and moves into the ante room cautiously, checking the corners for hidden adversaries.

Viola Belle

Every wary she takes her belongings and shoulders them. She does take an offered drink but hangs back watching the others for ill effects, noting who quaffs theirs and who doesn't. She will carry hers for some time before doing a test similar to Andor's assuming no one drops dead.

OOC: Is there anything I can role for knowledge or perception?

Lady Ryllae Glynberos

After finishing her drink, Ryllae will gather her gear and enter the chateau.

Varla

You may be right, Bors. 'Confusion to our enemies!' Varla downs her drink in a gulp and arranges her gear, ready to lug it 'til Doomsday, it appears. She keeps her mace ready or near her right hand as she works.

Drexlar- Does take the drink when offered. If it is not Ale, I will not be havin none. Seeing the shadows in the mist. He draws his S. sword. What is hiding in that fowl mist. Hahumph! He grabs his belongs and will follow the others into chatuea.

Andro watches as the Lady Ryllae Glynberos moves ahead. He waits for some of the others to follow and he takes a position midway among the group.

He turns and addresses the remaining party members, "Care to join us? It seems Hera wishes us to investigate the Chateau. There may be a wrong we need to right if the goddess favors us."

Wommack

The ranger, so used to living on his instincts in the wild is a bit disturbed by the change of scenery. Unaccustomed to such large mansions, he will follow this TuTu the satyr and help him with the pack mules. Best get an idea where the stables are. When away from the hearshot of the butler he will ask TuTu. "Robespierre mentioned you were a former guest? Now you work here, did you like the place that much?"

Bob shrugs and takes a glass with no immediate threat. Besides - he's thirsty.

Robespierre

Delighted that the 'guests' receive his welcome and offer of refreshments, the monotone butler drones, " this spirit was aged in Sir Ambervilles great cellar, fermented over decades in oaken casks. I believe the blend came of Averoignes' finest Bordeaux vines and a little spiced amethyst fruit, which makes the cocktail a real throat burner. Some winter guests said it fortified their hearty souls though one or two I must confess did say it may have addled their minds a little. Perhaps they got a liking for it and quaffed too much?" The butler serves, dextrously managing to hold the burning lantern under his elbow and pour from the decanter into glasses while balancing the silver tray giving a slight bow and lecherous smile to both Lady Ryllae and Sister Varla.

Those of the party who do drink feel the sensation of a coarse whisky blended with a smooth silky velvety feel. It leaves a strange aftertaste and feels somewhat moreish. Still not appearing to suffer any immediate ill effects, the party pick up their gear and walk towards the open doors of the Chateau. Entering a short flight of steps and passing between the sculptured columns.

Drexlar, wary of the shadows moving in the mist takes a guarded approach, trying to make out their indistinct forms. Robespierre holds up the lantern as if to shine a light on the path behind you, cautious in case you trip on some hazard. "Sir, I wouldn't worry the gardeners if I were you. They are somewhat...'territorial' and the Ambervilles like to keep them busy in their little groves and rockeries." he says, motioning to hurry you along. A startling sight passes by you stepping quickly out of the fringe of the mist to attend to a foot divot in the ground. It would seem like a large spider with a mans' torso. The figure wields a large scythe, almost like the grim reaper and swishes the grass hastily cutting it in a neat patterns with quick arcing sweeps. His legs scuttling him across the place you camped and to the edge of the gravel path. Almost as quick the mist envelopes him again and he fades into the swirling fog. Wommack takes a few steps into the mist to follow the satyr TuTu, but as soon as you step away from the forecourt by the butler the mist begins to make you choke and gasp for breath. The ranger begins to grab at his throat and claw for air, finding relief only when you step back away from the edges of the encroaching gloomy mist. The mules buck and snort, pulling at the reins while held in the hand of the stable groom but they are nevertheless hauled away into a dim stable block which fades immediately from sight as the mist closes in on them also. You catch the satyr's voice calming the creatures and hear a heavy drag across gravel sound as if barn doors where opened. Some 'whinny' sounds follow then unseen doors noisily close. Shortly all is quiet, the satyr does not reappear.

Ushering the waiting Paladin Andor into the chateau interior, Robespierre remarks,"Ah, well my wife, Pelor rest her sweet soul was once nanny to several of the children. My time has flown by, they are all grown up as men and women of their own stature now. Gosh, that must be ... (you can see Robespierre begin to count using his mind and fingers...), must be a generation at least."He rubs his head,"Ah yes, well I did have hair then, lovely locks my mum used to say, rather like yours Miss!" he says toViola.

With the gagging ranger bringing up the rear, the party enter the antechamber of the chateau. The butler snuffs out the lantern light, leaving it on a window ledge. Pulling to, the double doors you pass through and sliding a bolt in place to keep them fixed. A freshly swept carpet graces the floor. The interior walls are decorated with bright, colourful tapestries. Brass candelabras line the entranceway. They show signs of having been recently polished and are filled with scented candles. A small desk and sideboard stand against one wall, ornamented with small porcelain figures. In the far corner a carved 'hat stand' stands, the hooks appearing as carved hands. One holds a shiny helmet, another a fur lined winter helm. Beside it a vase stands, doubling as a weapons rack it seems for a gilded sword hilt pokes out of the top.

"Ah you have a faithful hound too, a mastiff of sorts. I should have guessed. Well I hope he is 'house trained', I cannot follow you round to scoop the poop you know." Robespierre acknowledges the clerics animal companion. "Does he have a name? I should check the guest list, maybe a kennel room has been reserved for him?" As if by magic, the butler pulls a large femur bone from under his jacket. Still with raw meat on it he entices the dog to maul with it. "A little treat for you, I think it is lamb ...or perhaps bovine of sorts....maybe part minotaur..." the butler absentmindedly scratches his head and then offers to take folks outer cloaks, muddy boots. "I can hang them in the cloak room and then I shall announce your presence to Sir Amberville."

The closing doors behind you stand in the middle of the southern wall. The room is about 60'ft wide and 70'ft long. A pair of glazed arched windows let in precious little gloomy light on each side wall. In the north west corner a pair of oaken solid double doors stand partly open. Through the gap you can hear the faint cries of cheering and exhortation. An occasional groan or cry of anguish is heard.

Drago takes his outer cloak off and hands it to Robespierre "Why thank you my good man." the mage hands the butler a tip (1 gp) for his gratitude. Making sure to keep everything on the utmost importance in his regular mage robe pockets and his various belt pouches. "Oh but what of our packs shall we carry them as well or is there a good place for us to set them down?"

Viola Belle

Unconsciously tucks a strand of her hair behind her slender highelven ear at the mention of it by the butler. She seems uncomfortable to say the least. She almost takes a drink of the wine then stops herself. soon as they begin filing inside, she slinks in and subtly sets the glass aside, not drinking. She looks around, her eyes training over their surroundings taking in the wealth or lake there of, whichever the case may be. She keeps her eyes peeled for more than valuables, memorizing where they are and where potential exits are for a quick escape as well and entrances for ambush. She also insist on keeping all her valuables on her person, though she does do the courtesy of thoroughly wiping her feet at the mat without being prompted.

Andor says, "Thank you for the beverage." Andor offers the now empty cup back to the butler. "I believe everyone will be anxious to meet our host given the circumstances it is under. Is your family still here with you?"Andor offers his hooded cloak as well.

Andor scrutinizes his surrounding for things that might seem out of place or of family history in hopes of finding a connection between himself and the host.

Varla

The Sister scrubs her boots on the doormat as she enters. I don't actually have an outer cloak- gets in my way during battle, ya know.

She scratches the dog's head, and is rewarded with a tail-wag that might knock over a young Goblin. This is Sophie- she saved my ass in the Battle of Harper's Glen. When they wanted to put her down after, I bought her from Hizzoner Lord Harper.

Bors Pitkin ignores the request for cloaks etc but he does reluctantly wipe his boots wherever is convenient. My gear, such that I have remains with me. It does not amount to much but it is important to me. It is not a burden. He says to Robespierre. Meanwhile he thinks to himself that a rapid exit from this strange place may be necessary.

Lady Ryllae Glynberos

Thank you, Robespierre, for the refreshment. It has an unusual, although quite pleasant, taste and feel to it. If possible, I should like a bottle to take with me upon my departure. She gives the servant a friendly smile, before wandering over to examine the porcelain figures on the sideboard. Out of curiosity, what were those...spider...things? They do not appear to be natural. How have they come to be here at the Chateau, and how did they come into your...employ?

Wommack

"Robespierre, You talk of guests lists. We were on our way to the Princes of Glantri when we camped. Did we get lost or are the princes here in this chateau. I don't recall that we would meet them here?" the ranger asks. He wipe shis boots but keeps his possessions."That foul mist almost choked me to death, like some fumes from a fire but without the heat. What causes it to billow this way?"

The ranger will nonchalantly look around the room, through the glazed windows and at the figurines. Do they have a feature or value he would recognise?