Public Site |
* Bienca lurks in the alley of a building not far to the north of the Mage Academy. She looks around carefully, then runs her fingers over the crumbly brick of the building. Finding hand and toe-holds, she scales slowly up the side, throwing her leg over the ledge and falling soundlessly to the roof. She pauses a long moment to gather her bearings and to make she the rooftop is deserted before signaling Dawn to make his ascent. * Dawn follows Bienca's trail up and over. It has been a long time since he regularly engaged in such activities, but he seems to have kept in practice, and joins her in relatively short order. He crouches in the shadows, massaging the beginnings of a cramp out of his scarred left hand. "Got a good view?" * Bienca indicates the Academy, the third and fourth story clearly visible over the rooftops. She does another - probably unnecessary - run through of her inventory. She touches a silver and onyx earing fastened to one lobe and then slides her hands over her vest, checking to be sure all her tools and weapons are both secure and easily accessible. * Dawn nods, then starts rummaging in his tatty cloak. He pulls out a feather and folds his hands around it, chanting softly. When he opens his hands, the feather is glowing faintly. He brushes it across the back of Bienca's neck, and it turns to dust. The glowing particles linger a moment, then fade. Dawn nods in satisfaction. "There's one." <Bienca> ::her voice hushed and tense:: I feel like an experiment... <Dawn> ::grins:: It's not an experiment, gorgeous. I've used it dozens of times before. <Bienca> ::still muttering, as if to herself:: See how many spells we can pile on the woman before she collapses... <Dawn> ::pulls out a vial and shakes out a tiny amount of some dark powder into his palm. He carefully closes the vial and puts it away.:: It's only three spells. And one of them isn't even actually *on* you; it's just hovering *around* you. ::Without waiting for her response, he reaches up to sprinkle the powder over her head and begins another incantation.:: <Dawn> ::In a matter of seconds, Bienca shrinks from her usual impressive height to the size of a rat, no more than a few inches tall. Dawn grins.:: And that's two. * Bienca squats for a moment, then pushes up from the ground to hover just in front of and slightly to one side of Dawn's face. "I feel ridiculous." <Dawn> You look fine. Hold still for this last one... * Dawn last pulls out a bit of fleece and holds it in the center of his palm. He looks at it in disgust. "I wish Dusk were here..." He sighs, and snaps out another chant, and the fleece bursts into spontaneous flame. Bienca sees nothing unusual but a faint shimmer out of the corner of her eye, but the illusion of a fluttering bat covers her hovering form, complete with faint flapping noises. <Dawn> Try not to *land* while anyone is looking, since I won't know to change the flapping. * Bienca flutters around Dawn's head. Mimicking a bad play she saw once, "I vant to suck your.... blood..." She laughs, an incongruous sound coming from a bat. * Dawn grins, then sits and leans against the wall of the roof, his brows furrowed slightly in concentration. "The shrink will wear off first. You've got a little more than an hour." * Bienca nods, realizes Dawn can't see that, and tries again. "Wish me luck. Say prayers. That sort of thing." She circles his head once again, then flitters off in the direction of the Academy. <Dawn> ::snorts:: Prayers. ::he grins:: Good luck, gorgeous. ::six orc guards mill about in front of the main door to the Academy, on the north face of the building:: * Bienca flaps her way around the tower, seeking a rooftop entrance. An air vent, a window not quite closed, a loose shingle. She disregards both the guards outside and a large passing moth. ::there is a garret above the fourth floor that seems to be mostly abandoned by the orcs. Most of the few windows have broken panes, dark stains run down the jagged edges of the glass still in the frames.:: * Bienca takes care to avoid the glass and stain as she glides through the hole into the garret. She pauses once inside to let her eyes adjust to the darkness and to listen for the sounds of other creatures. ::Bie's flapping wings ripple and shimmer as they touch the framing, but aren't dispelled. Inside, the area is an abandoned wreck. Previously it looks to have been a studying room, with couches, chairs, and long tables spread about. The furniture has been overturned and split open, and the tables are splintered and scorched. There is a spiral staircase leading down in the northeast corner of the room:: * Bienca frowns as her illusion shimmers briefly, then flutters so as to inspect it in the vague reflection of the glass. She chews her lip nervously and then darts into the shadows of the ceiling to see if the shimmer set off an alarm. ::the glass shows a flapping bat, hovering still in midair. From the ceiling, Bienca watches the landing of the staircase, but nothing seems to be approaching. As she hovers, she becomes aware of a hushed, continued murmuring coming from somewhere below. She can also discern an occasional grunt, also below her, but possibly closer to the stairs:: * Bienca seeks out a convenient shadowy area of the floor and presses her ear to the boards, concentrating. The fluttering bat illusion looks very strange in this position. ::Bienca cannot make out what is being said -- it still sounds like gibberish. She can make out four speakers in the room, never talking over one another, but one picking up instantly when another leaves off. The spoken words are repetitious, but still unrecognizable. The bat wings shimmer and ripple every time they beat against the floor, but don't disappear:: * Bienca sighs and flutters upwards again. She pauses, then flutters down the stairs, keeping as close to the ceiling as possible. ::as Bienca descends into a very small room with a door on its west side. The voices are somewhat louder here, but still incomprehensible. Strange lights move back and forth under the crack of the door.:: * Bienca flutters to the keyhole and attempts to peer in. ::inside the room, Bienca can see four crooked, wrinkled orcs sitting on cushions in a circle. One of them has a gnarled staff by his side, topped with a chunk of green stone. Between them is a view of a room that is not this one.:: * Bienca flitters around impatiently, trying to find a better angle, for all the world looking like a bat trying to get to a tasty bug that has secreted itself somewhere. ::the point of view slowly bobs up and down, moving through its space. The perspective abruptly swings to the right, looking at a person on the other side of the room. The point of view is poorly lit, and the identities of the figure can't be made out as of yet:: * Bienca pauses to listen in the hallway, wary of guards and other orcine pedestrians. ::no one moves to approach Bienca's room. In fact, none of the mages look like they intend to move anywhere anytime soon. The point of view stays on the figure for a few beats and then swings away again. It focuses on a chair by a lit candle, then dizzyingly swings around and lowers, until the candle is off to the left side. A book is lifted into view, opened to a marker, and begins to slowly drift down the page:: ::Bienca notes that the hands holding the book are not as dark as hers, but are still a distinctive, black hue, only rarely seen in Marsember:: * Bienca blinks several times. ::the color of the hands doesn't change as Bienca blinks:: * Bienca does aerial manuevers around the keyhole, attempting to see how they are casting the spell. ::in the center of the orcs is a large, shallow pool of still liquid with a wrinkled lump in its middle. Every now and then one of the orcs that isn't presently chanting casts a pinch of something into the water. The surface of the pool is quite thoroughly scummed over:: * Bienca shakes her head, then returns to studying the image again. She mutters in frustration as the person continues to read. ::the point of view swings up, looking at a man with long red hair and tattoos across his upper chest and arms, standing in a doorway. The mages signal to each other and they all begin to quietly chant, and a voice slowly gets louder:: ...re going bed for tonight, and wanted to be saying good night to you. * Bienca studies the red-haired man intently, memorizing his features. She grins a little. "Handsome devil." Her voice is *very* soft, ::another voice speaks, deep and smooth:: Good night, Diya. I won't be up much longer. I just thought I could read some, try to get my mind off of... ::the voice trails off. The man in the door way nods.:: The wounded heart. Good nighting. ::the man in the doorway walks out of sight, and after a moment, three of the orcs stop chanting. The point of view goes back to the book. Soon, it begins shuddering.:: * Bienca sighs. ::one of the hands comes up and covers the point of view momentarily. Soon, the shuddering stops, and the book is closed, and the candle is blown out:: * Bienca shakes her head, then inspects the small room for other exits. Finding none, she flutters back into the attic. ::the attic is exactly as Bienca left it. From this point of view, she can see the dark streets of Marsember stretching away up to the city walls:: * Bienca flutters back out into the street and begins a slow downward spiral around the building, looking for another entrance. ::as Bienca flutters around the building, she notes that in addition to the six guards at the front of the mage academy, there are two guards at each the southeast and southwest corners. Most of the floors have windows, but the windows on the first and second floors have been barricaded from the inside. Bie is on her second pass around the building when an owl noiselessly swoops in from above her and tries to grasp her in its talons:: * Bienca swears as she attempts to tumble through the air to escape the flying rat-trap. ::the owl folds its wings in and silently dives after Bienca, claws outstretched, eyes wide and staring:: <Bienca> Shit. ::she twists and launches the other way, tearing her leg against the owl's talon, but pushing away from the creature:: ::the owl dives past Bienca, spreads its wings, and begins climbing again, and slowly coming about:: * Bienca shakes her arm, dropping one dagger into her hand. "Stupid feathery git." She waits, hovering in mid-air, until the bird comes about, then sends the dagger spinning at one lantern-like eye. ::the owl jerks back as the tiny dagger smacks into its eye. It lets out a shrill cry, and flies away:: <Bienca> ::shakes her head:: Teach you to pick on something your own size... ::she grins maliciously, then resumes her survey of the building. One last circle concludes she's not really going to find another risk-free entrance:: ::on her passes, Bienca is able to get some rough ideas where the guards are inside the building. Two are lingering on the fourth floor, near the northwest corner, and two more a floor below them.:: * Bienca checks the position of the moon again and decides she hasn't much time left. With a hasty flutter, she speeds back towards the waiting mage. * Dawn is precisely where Bienca left him, sitting on the rooftop in the shadows. He is staring at a spot between his feet, concentrating on the bat illusion. * Bienca flutters a few times around Dawn's head, then comes to rest on the roof, where she promptly sits down. * Dawn blinks somewhat dazedly, then lets the illusion fall away. He glances up at the moon. "Longer than I thought. Did you learn anything?" * Bienca looks down at her calf, where a long narrow scrape bleeds thickly. "That I looked like something's dinner?" She sighs. "Did you bring any bandages? I didn't think to." * Dawn pats at his cloak, then shakes his head. "We can be back at the office or your flat in an instant, though. How bad is it?" <Bienca> Not that bad... stupid bird. ::she peers way up at him:: Let's get out of here and I'll tell you what I saw and then you can tell *me* what I saw. <Dawn> Aye. ::he makes a breaking gesture with his hands, and she grows instantly to full-size again. He offers her a hand:: * Bienca stands up and takes his hand, balancing on her uninjured leg. <Bienca> ::muttering to herself:: Gonna get me an owl-feather stuffed pillow, I swear... * Dawn teleports them both back to his office, and helps her to sit before rummaging in a cabinet for bandages and alcohol. "You didn't bleed much, did you? I'd hate to give them anything to work with..." <Bienca> ::shakes her head:: Not too much, and all of it outside the building *anyway*. ::she looks at him curiously:: Can you... cast a spell to look through someone else's eyes? <Dawn> Through someone's *eyes*? ::he frowns as he cleans off her leg and wraps it with a clean strip of bandage:: <Dawn> There are plenty of scrying spells... I know a few. I've never heard of looking through someone else's eyes, but I don't see why there *shouldn't* be one. <Bienca> ::shrugs:: That's what they're doing, s'far as I could tell. ::she glances at him, almost nervously:: <Dawn> ::sits back comfortably, his face thoughtful:: Let's hear the details. <Bienca> Four mages, ten guards, at least the ones I could see... six guards at the door, and two at each end of the building... <Dawn> ::frowns:: None inside? <Bienca> ::shrugs:: I couldn't get much inside. The one entrance I found, I'd have had to go straight *past* the mages to get any further. <Dawn> ::grimaces:: All right. Tell me about the mages. * Bienca explains about the pool of liquid and its greyish lumpy thing. She tells him about the chanting and the pinches of dust. Then, slowly, she goes over the vision itself. "He's... whoever he is, Dawn, he's like me. A dark-skinned man..." <Dawn> ::raises his eyebrows:: Shouldn't be too hard to find, then... If they sent him ahead of time, to scout... ::his mouth tightens:: I'm sure Angel would be thrilled to have a chat with him. <Bienca> ::shakes her head:: I don't know... he seemed upset. I didn't... well, obviously I couldn't *see* him, he didn't look in a mirror. But his friend, a red-head named Diya - good-looking man, too. Pretty. Anyway, his friend said something about "his wounded heart". <Dawn> Mm. He was the only one you saw? ::scratches at his scruffy beard:: I wonder what their hook is. Could he be the only one? <Bienca> They didn't change the image... And I only saw him and this Diya fellow... but he wasn't doing anything *important*. Just reading a book and talking with his friend, a bit. <Dawn> If he's not the only one, then they certainly don't have many. *I* wouldn't waste a scrying spell on someone reading. ::grins tightly:: Unless it was a particularly good book, I suppose. <Dawn> ::eyes Bie:: Can you draw? <Bienca> ::shakes her head:: Not especially... but you'd have to be blind to miss either of these fellows. The red-head's got tattoos from his elbows to his shoulders in some pretty eye-searing colors. And a dark-skinned man? They'll stick out. Shouldn't be too hard to find them. <Dawn> ::nods:: Aye... ::scratches at his beard some more:: Actually... That bard, Talarin - he's the one told Angel that the orcs were scrying in the first place. He'd been spotted, he said. There's a chance he might be able to place them, if this man's the only eyes they can see through, or one of only a few. <Bienca> Talarin? ::she grins:: I like him... he's very easy on the eyes. <Dawn> ::snorts:: Anyone you've met lately that you *don't* like, gorgeous? <Bienca> ::grins:: Well, the orcs and I haven't been formally introduced or anything... <Dawn> ::laughs:: <Dawn> You didn't see what they were doing to cast the spell, did you? Just a lump in a pool of water? ::makes a face:: What kind of lump? * Bienca holds out her hands to indicate the size of the lump, about the size of a man's head. "And it was sort of grey. And fat on one side. And wrinkled." * Dawn blinks, then gets up and goes to the desk. He fishes out a piece of parchment and sketches briefly before showing it to her. "Like this?" * Bienca nods. "Yeah, pretty much." <Bienca> You know the spell? <Dawn> ::looks vaguely sick:: No, but I know... ::he waves the parchment:: This is a brain. I wonder whose it is. ::he shudders and sticks it back in the desk drawer:: <Bienca> ::revolted:: Like, a *person's* brain? <Dawn> ::nods:: If it was the size you say... Maybe another orc's. Hard to tell. For such big bodies, they have small heads. <Bienca> ::sniggers rudely:: <Dawn> Certain parts of the brain are useful in spells. Especially scrying spells. ::he looks disgusted as he sits back on the couch:: I can't imagine what they're doing with a whole brain, though. Maybe that's part of the seeing through... ::he suddenly looks quite revolted:: Merciless gods, I hope it's not that poor man's brain. <Bienca> ::blinks:: How could that be *possible*? I mean, doesn't he sort of need it? <Dawn> Gorgeous, I'd say it wasn't possible, except that a month ago I thought it wouldn't be possible for a bunch of fucking orcs to take over the whole city. Maybe he's some variety of undead I never heard of before. <Bienca> You have a morbid imagination, handsome. <Dawn> ::grins:: You spend a decade killing people for a living and see how bright and cheerful *your* outlook is. ::he shrugs:: If we find him, it'll be easy enough to test. We can just have Waterdeep check him out for us. <Bienca> ::she sighs:: It still doesn't answer the really important question, though, does it? How do we *stop* them? Kill him? <Dawn> That'd be too obvious, don't you think? I hate killing a man if it's not for profit or revenge. Maybe just get the word to his friends on the side that they shouldn't talk about anything useful to the orcs when he's around. Or slip him one of Dusk's less nasty things and put him to bed for a couple of weeks. * Bienca groans. "Gods, I have a busy week this week... tomorrow we go hijack a ship - a first for me in the shadowy world of crime - and then the day after I'm playing guinea pig to one of Dusk's little injectables." <Dawn> You're voluntarily letting Dusk jab you with something? You're a brave woman. <Bienca> ::shrugs:: All in a day's work... <Dawn> ::laughs:: Well, fear not. I will be the one to take tonight's report to Angel. You can get some sleep, to prepare for our hijacking, and... whatever it is that Dusk is doing to you. <Bienca> ::grins:: If he doesn't mess it up, it shouldn't be too bad. Enjoyable, even... ::she winks:: <Dawn> ::snorts:: Good luck, then. * Bienca grins. "Want me to sleep over?" She gives him a suggestively direct look. <Dawn> ::laughs:: Could I possibly turn you down, gorgeous? ::he stands and offers her a hand:: Come on. There's a couple of hours yet before Angel's due for his briefing. * Bienca takes his hand and limps off with him |
|
|