March 4: Gangs of Vornheim

[Inferno]

Initiative: [1d6] = 6
I'll wait til you tell me it's not a tie before acting. Thanks.

[Mister-Kent]

Initiative: [1d6] = 2
Oof, most definitely not a tie! The sword-dragger's just too slow on the draw...

[Inferno]

Zaent Darkhand, elven criminal:

The elf who spoke and moved like a human slipped into the fog trying to elude the sword dragger.

Why was he dragging the sword? Was he another undead horror? Like Godric?
The Vapors had pulled out all the Vorn-damned stops tonight.

Zaent runs through the mystical mist, sharp elf ears listening for telltale sounds of Sable or Dr. Schnabel.

There had to be an easier way to make a dishonest living in Vornheim.

[Mister-Kent]

The harsh scraping follows behind you for several blocks, but you lose the swordsman at a large central square. There you find Sable hunkered down over the still form of a fellow Clan member. She looks up at you before rising to her feet, the whites of her eyes rimmed red from tears. Now, full of rage.

"We've lost at least six to the Vapors," she seethes, her sword-hand tensing around the long dagger at her side. She points a few feet away, where another body lies…or at least, the lower half of a body, cleanly bisected in one great stroke by an immense blade. "I won't lose anyone else today," she says.

There is a sharp twitch in her right eye, and she exhales. "Not even you. Brother." You cannot recall another time when she willingly called you this, save perhaps when you were very young and new to the Night Clan.

She charges through the violet fog as best she can--due to your sensitive eyes, you can see through the mist better than she, but it's still difficult. Before you even realize it, you reach the abrupt edge of the fog. At the long arcing bridge where the 13th Ward crosses the River Despair into the 15th Ward, the strange fog ebbs away and drops into the murky water.

"Schnabel has a clinic in the Fifteenth," Sable says. "He's probably reporting to his masters now. Who knows--maybe he thinks his plan worked, and…"

She looks at you. "What happened with Father?"

[Inferno]

Zaent Darkhand, elven criminal:

"He's returned to his rightful rest. It was quick and painless," Zaent lied.

The Vapors had provided the common enemy to unite Sable and Zaent. He put his hand on her shoulder and looked in the direction of the Fifteenth Ward.

"Let's go," Zaent said, joining Sable on the way to Schnabel's clinic.

[Mister-Kent]

Woundsday, March 4
1:00 PM
The Fifteenth Ward

Sable leads you in the direction of the Clinic, passing many market stalls along the way. The merchants stare at you impassively as they go about selling their wares. The busiest traders are located at the Black Leviathan Fishery, where multiple men hack at a great octopus with massive hooks. Were the beast completely dead they'd have an easier go of it, but it was apparently only playing possum when hauled in by their nets. It lashes out with immense tentacles, knocking some of the workers from their feet.

Sable knows a shortcut that ventures through the Fishery's back alley, where the Foreman sits on a small crate. He rises as you pass, watching you suspiciously.

The Clinic is a quaint squat tower in the heart of the 15th Ward, surrounded by a small yard with a low fence. The yard serves as a waiting room of sorts, with the injured and ill milling around front awaiting the attention of the great Dr. Schnabel.

As you both approach, an old woman sits on the tower's front stoop. The lower-half of her face is wrapped in blood-soaked sackcloth.

[Inferno]

Zaent Darkhand, elven criminal:

Zaent allowed Sable to continue to lead, seeing as she knew Schnabel's location.
If Sable hesitated, then Zaent would step in and quietly ask the woman on the stoop if the good Doctor was in. But only if Sable relieved her lead position.

[Mister-Kent]

You can barely make out the sick woman's words beneath her muffle. "Wait yer turn!" she cries out, tugging on Sable's sleeve. Sable winces--less out of disgust at the diseased wretch, and more for what she is about to do.

She swiftly turns on her heel and soundly shoves the woman back, raising her short sword slightly."You may see the good doctor when we're done with him," she advises, then forcefully pushes open the clinic's front door.

There are multiple cots in this lobby area, half of them filled with patients in various stages of dying. Above the moans and coughs, you hear the clicking of hard-soled boots ascending a nearby staircase at a rapid pace.

[Inferno]

Zaent Darkhand, elven criminal:

Suddenly, silently, Zaent raced up the stairs, chasing the sound of the footsteps!

[Mister-Kent]

You race upstairs after a dark cloaked figure carrying something in their arms. As they reach the tops of the stairs, they spin to face you--

"E-excuse me, sir, but Doctor Schnabel is available to those patient enough to wait, and there's a great amount of folks ahead of you!" the young nurse says. Her face is small and her features are tough, with her dark hair pulled back in a loose braid, and she carries an armful of thick books. "I'm simply returning these medical texts to his quarters--you'll have to wait downstairs until the doctor returns..." She nudges the door to Schnabel's office open, but it was already open a wee crack.

Sable peers over your shoulder, eyeing the nurse suspiciously. "Returns from?"

The nurse pauses. "Oh--a house call. He rarely makes house calls, but I saw him leaving for the Thirteenth Ward I believe..."

Unnoticed by the nurse, you spy red stains on the office's wooden floor.

"Yes yes, please return downstairs ad I'm sure the doctor will see you when he comes home," the nurse continues apologetically.

[Inferno]

Zaent Darkhand, elven criminal:

"Look out below," Zaent warned Sable as he callously knocked the nurse down the stairs and kicked open the door to Schnabel's office. His sword was already in his fist. The beautiful elf snarled with hate, "Schnabel, you'd better be dead already... for your sake."

[Mister-Kent]

The nurse tumbles down the steps with a yelp! Her medical books slide downstairs after her, shedding wrinkled pages along the way. As she skids to a stop at the foot of the steps, there is a stirring of bodies on the first floor.

Sable readies her weapon ready and follows right after you into the Doctor's room.

"Empty?" she gasps, and circles the room. It's a quaint medical office with a trio of bookshelves along the walls, an oak desk, and a large chest beneath a large glass window overlooking the 15th Ward. The drops of blood on the floor are sprinkled by the desk, and gather in front of the chest.

You hear the nurse shout from downstairs.

[Inferno]

Zaent Darkhand, elven criminal:

Zaent curses and checks the chest for traps. "Lock the door," he says distractedly to Sable.
If Zaent finds any traps, he'll try to disarm them.
If he finds none, he'll open the chest.

[Mister-Kent]

Woundsday, March 4
1:20 PM
The Fifteenth Ward

Sable pauses, but then turns and quickly locks the door. She turns back to you and begins tiptoe-ing around the floor. You've seen her do this before--other members of the Night Clan use the technique as well, but none quite so gracefully as her. Like a dancer she steps across the floor to feel out hidden traps and pressure plates.

You skirt the edge of the room, and watch the floor closely, but find no hidden traps there. "The nurse will return soon--with force, Zaent." She watches you carefully.

You find a section of books on the shelf that is in fact a hollow wooden box, meticulously carved to resemble a quartet of thick medical tomes. You slide the box from the shelf--it is approximately a foot wide, a foot tall, and six inches deep, with a silver keyhole on the top face.

Beneath the large looming window, the chest sits unlocked, the floor in front of it dabbed with blood. Sable stands beside you as you gingerly open its lid. Within sits the huddled remains of Dr. Schnabel. His hands have been removed.

"He…he looks like he's been dead for some time," Sable gasps, then cups her mouth. "But…"

There are heavy footsteps up the stairs followed by several lighter steps, accompanied by much shouting.

[Inferno]

Zaent Darkhand, elven criminal:

Zaent cursed. “More Vorndamned sorcery. Quick, out the window. Let’s get back home; let the Clan know you still live and that the Vapours’ attempt on your life failed. We need to plan our counterattack against those motherless bastards,” the normally cool, calculating elf swore hotly as he opened the window and went out on a ledge. He turned to take Sable’s hand.

[Mister-Kent]

The large window shutters creak as you pry them open, letting in a light breeze. Sable slams the chest shut to step upon it, takes your hand, and follows you as you head out the window. You spy a waiting cart of hay parked at the base of the tower--it's actually a little further out of a jump, but you're fortunate it's available at all! You launch yourself out the window, plummeting into the hay with a *fumpf*

When you climb out of the cart, you realize that the mysterious violet fog has lifted, and the both of you run back to the Night Clan's tower. Along the way, you run into a few injured members of the Clan, who accompany you home. They fared rather better than some--at least their limbs are intact.

"H-he cut us down in the fog," one of the wounded thieves explains, utterly shocked. "The man with the sword the size of a man…"

2:30 PM
The Night Clan's Tower
13th Ward

You return home--at least, it was your home, for so very long--what is it now to you? As the remaining thieves of the Clan trickle in, Sable makes her way to the large meeting hall to make plans, and also solemnly contemplate the events of the day.

"We have…something capable of disguising itself as Dr. Schnabel, and an executioner striking from the fog. The Vapors truly wanted us dead today…father would've said that Vorn was shielding us today…but I like to think it was just luck. Luck, and the fact that you were there to act when I could not…"

[Inferno]

Is Sable addressing Zaent, the thieves in the meeting hall, or both? Thanks.