Public Site |
* Felice approaches Ildool's Palace in her tabby form, and captured mouse in her jaws, looking for all the world like a mother bringing a meal home for her kittens to play with. <NPC> ::the palace is walled, with the white marble towers gleaming over the tops of the walls. A small group of orcs guard the front gates and two more, armed with crossbows, sit in watch-towers overlooking the grounds. Idol's head, along with the heads of his palace guards and advisors, are in the advanced stage of decomposition on pikes around the gates:: * Felice nonchalantly makes her way around the palace looking for a drain or similar method through or over the wall, keeping half an eye on the guards in case they try to steal her meal. <NPC> ::the guards are very uninterested in eating Felice's mouse, although one of them, in a fit of boredom, shies a rock at her:: * Felice scampers away from the rock and the guards. <NPC> ::the grounds around the palace were once kept in good order, but no longer. Green lawns are tangled with weeds and shrubbery grows in thick, untrimmed clumps. Flowers and vegetables grow in sprawling disorder and a few families of raccoons and possums have taken up residence in the wilderness of the bushes:: * Felice perks up as she picks up the scents of the animals and begins looking for a scent trail that leads to the wall. <NPC> ::the family of possums, one big fat male and two females - one pregnant and the other giving suck to a litter of blind, hairless babies - are nestled in an overturned trashbin up against the back wall. The male opens pink eyes to stare balefully at the cat as she approaches:: * Felice keeps her distance, circling around the family and the trashbin, continuing to look for a way inside the walls. <NPC> ::just around the corner from the back gate - likewise guarded - a heavy growth of ivy lips over the wall like a great beard, covering the wall halfway down with green leaves and twining vines:: * Felice grins around the mouse in her mouth, finding a position where her route to the wall is as concealed as possible from the guards, both at the gate and in the towers. She then runs at the wall, leaping up and catching the ivy before beginning to scale her way up the wall. <NPC> ::the ivy is fat with summer rains, and the cat is mildly coated with thick, sweet-smelling sap by the time she makes her scramble to the top:: * Felice shakes herself out as best she can, then pauses, seeming to consider the merits of holding onto her mouse, as opposed to cleaning herself. Finally she stands back up and begins to explore the castle, mouse still in her jaws. Her ears alert for the sound of approaching people or guard dogs, and her nose searching for unusual scents. Her path leads her towards the main building. <NPC> ::the palace is an assorted conglomerate of towers and buildings, like a set of children's blocks left out carelessly after play. A building that once stabled Ildool's finest horses is now home to a jumble of bad-tempered wolf-like creatures who snarl and snap at each other over their meal.:: <NPC> ::the orcs inside the walls seem interested in very little, aside from a few activities. The main seems to be finding a place to sleep out of the sunlight. Every inch of shade is shared by sleeping orcs:: * Felice does her best to avoid the sleeping orcs, and attempts to stay both down wind and out of sight of the wolf things. <NPC> ::the keep is surrounded by what used to be marble walkways and lush green lawns. The lawns are torn up from hundreds of booted feet walking over them with no regard, and the walkways are thick with mud. Most of the windows are boarded over, or covered by thick curtains. The door appears to have been battered in several weeks ago, and badly fixed. A chunk about eight inches wide and six tall is missing from the center:: * Felice approaches the door, sniffing around for any signs that someone or something is on the other side of the door. <NPC> ::Felice's nose detects nothing out of the ordinary, unless one considers that a palace full of orcs is decidedly out of the ordinary:: * Felice climbs the door and crawls through the hole. <NPC> ::inside the palace, it is thickly dark. Every window has been covered and most of the lamps have been smashed. Here and there, a pitch torch gutters faintly. The head housekeeper, were she alive today, would have several heart attacks if she were to see the condition of the palace. Mud and things worse than mud swathe the floor. The furniture is shattered and bits of glass and china decorate the mud like pearls cast before swine:: * Felice starts to make her way deeper into the palace, doing her best to remain clean and not appear disapproving of orcish hygiene. She initially sets off to examine the top of the palace, then changes her mind and instead heads down towards the basements and dungeons. <NPC> ::a few flights down, the dungeons are populated, not by important people from Marsember, or even the few rebellious townsmen, but by orcs. These underground rooms appear to be a perfect habitat for cavern-dwelling humanoids, and here, they seem more comfortable and at home than Felice has seen them within the city.:: * Felice continues to explore, doing her best to remain unnoticed and unremarkable, her sense alert to any sounds of discovery or disturbance. Having found the orc quarters she begins looking for Woundwort's quarters, trying to deduce what orcs consider of value and then proceeding towards rooms that seem to have more of such things. <NPC> ::the orcs who live in the basement appear to be of full-orcish blood, and they talk to each other exclusively in the goblin tongue, a hostile, spitting language. A rousing game of ... something, Felice isn't sure exactly what... is going on in one room, and many orcs laugh gruffly as two of their number appear likely to pummel each other to death:: * Felice hurries past the room with the game, quickening her pace, but being unwilling to leave until she's finished a cursory survey of the dungeons and gotten an estimate on the number of orcs quartered there. <NPC> ::the number of orcs is difficult to estimate, as they don't conform to human standards of "two to a room" or anything even remotely like it. She'd guesstimate somewhere between lots and bunches. Probably over two hundred. Maybe.:: <Felice> ::Having finished her survey of the dungeons Felice begins working her way up towards the top of the palace, continuing her efforts to go unnoticed and remaining alert, her eyes, ears, and nose all searching for information and danger. <NPC> ::most of the orcs wouldn't know what a cat was, if you asked them. A few, however, think Felice looks like a tasty addition to their stew pot and give chase down a dark hallway:: * Felice runs from the orcs as fast as she can, looking for furniture to run under, rafters to jump into, or narrow passages escape through. <NPC> ::a dash through one hallway seems to provoke some group argument about ownership of that particular bit of corridor, and the chasers quickly lose interest in the face of hostile squatters. Forgotten in the impending territorial battle, Felice manages to escape through:: * Felice pauses around a corner to catch her breath and calm down a bit before resuming her search, adding cook pots to her list of things to avoid when possible. <NPC> ::the first floor of the palace seems to have been given over to what little government structure the orcs have in place. A large audience hall, with an exhausted-looking scrawny orc overseeing the reports, perches on a divan, looking silly in an oversized blue velvet robe:: * Felice proceeds upward through the palace, keeping track of escape routes in case she has to run for her life again. <NPC> ::the second floor of the palace is given over to the more elite troops - tall and muscular, some of these orcs seem almost human, and possess fine armor and weaponry. They go about their business, some sleeping, some tending to their equipment, almost calmly. Occasionally, raised voices can be heard as some of them argue with each other:: * Felice resists the urge to flatten her ears as she continues on, trying to memorize as much of the palace lay out as possible. <NPC> ::the palace appears to have been built by someone who was used to designing tenant housing, but was told to make it with marble... long hallways are lined with rooms on either side, capped by staircases at either end:: * Felice continues upward, looking for anything that might prove useful in getting rid of the orcs. <NPC> ::the third, and final floor of the palace is given over to the personal rooms of the General and a few of his "friends." One of them, obviously a mage from his dark, heavily cowled robe, appears in deep discussion with a human mercenary:: * Felice tries to get close enough to overhear the conversation in hopes that the mercenary at least is speaking Common, doing her best to remain hidden, and keeping an eye on the escape routes. <Mercenary> ... ing you, they ain't toleratin' it. Half of 'em sleep on duty. We ain't got enough for a complete day-watch! Your damn orcs are half-blind in the sun, you know. <Mage> ::placating:: We're working on that problem, Captain... it has been a difficult time to adjust, but progress is being made on devices... rings and the like, which will help our... less civilized brethren tolerate the sun more. ::the orc-mage bares teeth in what is apparently meant to be a friendly gesture:: <Mercenary> Better hurry it on up... some of my boys understand a lot more goblin than they speak it, and you tell his High-n-mighty that his troops are restless. Ain't no fun, they think, just *governing*. If they don't get some action soon, you're like to have a revolt on your hands. <Mage> They will not. ::grimly:: Or perhaps a *reminder* might be in order. ::he rubs his hands together, the knuckles cracking obscenely:: <Mercenary> ::pales slightly under his tan:: Yeah... sure. But you tell 'im. We're ready to move on. <NPC> ::the mercenary gives the mage a shaky bow and hastily heads towards the stairs:: * Felice waits in her current position to see how the mage responds to the merc's departure. <Mage> ::watching after, he mutters to himself darkly:: Fool! They will not have forgotten the lessons... ::an evil smile creeps over the porcine features:: But we could arrange another lesson... we could... ::still chuckling under his breath, he wanders off:: * Felice continues her search of the third floor. <NPC> ::Woundwort is in his sitting room, a large situational map covering one wall. He is studying several areas, marked in reds and greens, intently. Another mage, this one nearly human save for a purplish tinge to his skin and a dreadful overbite, hovers near his elbow, wringing long fingers together:: * Felice surveys the room, looking for a hiding place that will allow her to study the map and overhear Woundwort. <Mage> M'lord, everything here is going so well, it is... ::his voice is petulant and whining:: The ships are nearly ready to sail. The wealth of this city is already in our hands. <Woundwort> ::shaking his head:: They're pushing troops back... the cities fall easily enough, but if *he* can't hold them, we won't have any kingdom *left*. <Mage> ::snivelling:: It's all falling apart... ::he nearly grovels as Woundwort aims a sharp slap at his head:: <Woundwort> ::snarling:: Keep talking like that, Meegar, and you won't live to see Suzail... <Meegar> ::rubbing his head fitfully:: Don't you threaten me... *he* knows who's makin' all this possible... wouldn't *be* no taking of cities, if we didn't have our watchers. Y' can't do it without us... <Woundwort> ::closing his hands around the mage's robe, pulling him up:: You think if *he* decides you'd make a tasty snack that your 'watchers' will save you? <Woundwort> ::tossing him aside:: Get out of my sight, weasel... <Meegar> ::snivelling and cringing, the mage flees:: * Felice remains hidden, continuing to watch Woundwort. <Woundwort> ::eyes the map for a moment longer, then sits down at his desk to read dispatches:: * Felice waits for Woundwort to become absorbed in the reports, then attempts to sneak back out of the room. <NPC> ::the hallways are, for the moment, empty:: * Felice looks around some more to see if she's missed anything on the third floor, and to try and get a count of the number of mages present. <NPC> ::from the appearance of the orcs on this floor and the rooms set aside, it becomes obvious that the mages do not live at the palace, and therefore there is no way to count them. A few are around for various pieces of official business, but that is all:: * Felice heads back down to the ground floor, searching for ways for humans to sneak into the palace. <NPC> ::the palace, designed to house and protect the king and his advisors, is well-built to prevent sneakings by all but the most determined and skilled thieves. The windows are exceptionally narrow and far from any lower-floored rooftops. One might suppose the best way to take the building would be as the orcs did it, by main force:: * Felice exits the palace and from a distance examines the other buildings within the palace walls, trying to determine which the orcs use besides the palace and the stables. <NPC> ::all the buildings within the walls are utilized, even if for nothing more than food storage:: <Felice> ::Satisfied Felice heads back to the palace wall, looking for a path down and away from the palace.:: |
|
|