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<Jewel> ::Dead Fred's Pile is well named. It is an enormous building constructed of a particularly unattractive mud-colored stone, now falling to pieces with neglect (and helped along by the occasionally overenthusiastic treasure-hunter.) A stone wall topped with iron spikes surrounds the property-- not that it seems to have kept people out-- and the building itself has a commanding view of not much at all.:: <Jewel> ::What at first appears to be the work of a deranged gardener, on closer inspection, turns out to be a number of holes dug haphazardly around the property and subsequently abandoned. The only place that appears relatively undisturbed is a more modestly-fenced area a few hundred yards in back of the house, where Lord Bonesteel is interred in lonely state with a plain marble marker.:: * Dawn snorts. "Ugly fuckin' place. Let me check for magic, though I can't imagine any self-respecting spell being willing to stay attached to this shitty construction..." * Loria steps out of Dawn's teleport on Angel's arm, Jewel clinging to his other arm. The two look like literal cuts of night and day, Angel all in black with black trim and Loria in her sunshine yellow priestess robes. * Jewel swallows and takes tighter hold of Angel's arm. "What a... charming place for a young man to grow up." She shivers. <Loria> ::looks around, her hand going to the pendant at her throat:: This is... I am reminded of a place in the Ven called the Canyon of the Lost. ::she shivers:: <Dawn> [and back in Marsember, for no apparent reason, Kevil gets a chill.] ;) <Angel> ::jerks his chin in the direction of the plot:: Ladies... you'll probably want to remain here, for the nonce. Grave-robbing is not a very honorable vocation. And it's hard work. ::he takes a shovel off his pack and hands it to Dawn:: Come on, let's get this over with. ::he heaves a sigh:: <Dawn> Not very profitable, either. ::he takes the shovel and heads across the yard, looking around carefully as he goes.:: * Dawn pauses as they cross the fence into the fenced-in plot, and squints at the grave. "What's tha- Hold on, I want to make sure it's not trapped." <Angel> ::gestures:: By all means. I don't think I'm up to getting poisoned today. * Dawn squats in front of the gravestone, frowning, then reaches out and gingerly touches a small greyish stone set in the center, just below Lord Bonesteel's name, that is glowing a faint, eerie green, even to the non-magical eye. After a moment, he snorts. "Charlatan. I wonder if he did it himself?" * Jewel looks around and swallows hard. Her voice is a little high and nervous, when she speaks. "Um... Loria, would you mind waiting a little more over this way?" She gestures closer to the boys, and significantly farther away from the house. * Loria puts her hand on Jewel's arm, looking every inch the priestess. "Of course, my dear friend." As they get closer to the men, she murmurs something under her breath that sounds both liquid and somehow soothing. * Jewel takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders, giving the house a somewhat adversarial glare and a "so there!" sort of look. <Loria> ::in a low voice, she watches the two men work:: It always amuses me to see them actually doing something... physical. I don't know why, I always imagine them sneaking through alleyways. <Jewel> ::murmuring back in a faintly smug tone:: You've never seen Angel do his morning exercises. * Dawn shrugs and picks up his shovel again. "Nothing here to worry about. Might be worth a quick run through the place, when we're done here, just to see what we can find." * Angel walks all the way around the grave, then plants his shovel just under the headstone and gets to work. He cuts out chunks of the sod and puts them aside. "I suppose we should be polite and put him back when we're done." <Dawn> Well, that depends on what he says, I-- ::he breaks off and glances through the fence at Loria:: --Uh, yeah. Probably should. <Loria> ::raises an eyebrow with a faint laugh:: Well, no... but Kevil does some pretty impressive work-outs, as well. I always liked watching... especially when he gets all... sweaty. ::she snickers behind her hand:: * Dawn and Angel work for a time, until Dawn's shovel chunks into something solid, and he grunts with the impact. "Fuckin' big rock, or else the top of the coffin, here." * Jewel pulls up a piece of rock, watching the two men work. Her eyes get a bit misty. "Oh, yes. I *really* like watching him... he's..." she sighs a little. "Some people have art and sculpture and suchlike in their homes. I have Angel. And mirrors." The corners of her mouth turn up in a sultry little smile. * Angel nods. "Great." He doesn't sound particularly happy. He cuts his eyes to the west to look at the two women with their heads together who are giggling like schoolgirls. "I think... that I do not want to know what they're talking about." <Loria> ::nods:: Of course, Diya works out, too. But I'm not allowed to watch that. His Captain's orders. Diya... well, Diya's very... he talks too much. And if I'm watching him work out, he doesn't. Work out, that is. ::she flushes:: Well, sometimes. * Jewel watches Loria's face, and grins. "I'll just bet." <Dawn> ::following Angel's glance:: Doesn't seem quite the fuckin' place, does it? ::he jumps down into the hole to uncover the rest of the coffin. "Go see what she wants in the way of setup, boss." * Jewel seems to know when Angel turns to look at them, and looks back, giving him a smile that, under other circumstances, he might be inclined to do something about. * Angel climbs out of the hole with undue haste. "Right." He crosses over to the ladies. "I believe we're about ready. This might be... somewhat unpleasant. What else... do you need us to do?" * Jewel looks at Loria, clearing her throat and smoothing her hair back as she gets down to business. (Not that business, the other business.) <Loria> ::nods slowly:: It always is. Just stand behind me. You don't have to look at him. In fact, you might prefer not to. But I'll need you to ask your questions quickly. <Jewel> Is he likely to be... dangerous? I can ward psychically, if you think it would help. If it wouldn't interfere, that is. <Dawn> ::From inside the grave, there is a loud creak as Dawn opens the coffin lid, followed by a lot of coughing punctuated by rather vivid curses.:: Tell me, please, that we don't have to actually take him out of here. <Loria> ::her smile grows positively war-like, a strange expression on her usually pale and serene face:: Oh, no. If he becomes dangerous, that'll be my job, as well. And you'd *best* not be looking, if I have to sunburst. <Loria> ::shakes her head quickly:: No, I just need access to the body. You don't need to disturb him that much. Probably physically *can't*, as long as he's been dead. * Angel winces, looking vaguely ill. * Jewel blinks and almost takes a step back at Loria's expression. She takes hold of Angel's hand, heedless of dirt, and squeezes it. <Dawn> Thank the *mumblemumblemumble*. ::Dawn climbs up out of the hole and perches on the edge, his feet dangling over the side as he catches his breath:: Ready when you are, then. <Loria> ::nods again, crossing to the grave:: Don't look. And if I tell you to get down, I want you all on the ground with your eyes covered. If I have to destroy the corpse, I could blind you. It's unpleasant, and I didn't have enough prayer... I'd have to wait a few days to cure you. Which would also be unpleasant. ::she matter-of-factly kneels down near the ragged hole and looks into the coffin:: <Angel> ::dryly:: Thanks for the warning. <Dawn> You're the expert. ::Dawn pulls his legs up out of the hole as well, and turns his back to the grave.:: * Angel doesn't release Jewel's hand, his fingers tight and cold in hers. <Loria> ::murmurs a quick blessing and touches everyone in her group on the head, shedding a pale glistening light from her fingertips down their hair which has the distinctly weird feeling of something like a raw egg being broken over the head:: * Dawn winces slightly and puts his hand up to touch his hair briefly. He looks at his fingers, sees nothing out of the ordinary, and shrugs, shuddering into the spell. * Jewel instinctively brushes a hand over her braid after Loria's fingers leave her. <Loria> That should help, just in case... I don't know that we'll need it, but if we do, I didn't want to take the time later. ::she sighs:: I'm ready... ::she looks in the coffin again, then winces:: Ug. I hate worms. ::she puts her hand into the coffin to touch the corpse as she begins her spell:: * Angel makes a strangled sort of sound at the word 'worms.' * Loria 's prayer is long, involved, and commanding. She chants fiercely, not asking, so much as demanding the return of the dead's spirit. Her voice changes as she prays, sounding as if there is a chorus of singers behind her. * Jewel rather firmly turns around and puts her back to the coffin, turning Angel as well and pulling him closer to her. * Dawn shudders again, hunching his shoulders and determinedly not looking around. <Loria> ::finishing her prayer:: Return! <Bonesteel> ::A pale corpse-light flickers over the open coffin. At first, it just seems as though it is the sunlight through the scraggly trees at the outer fence, but slowly, reluctantly, it coalesces into a human form-- a gaunt, tall, elderly man with a pinched and sour face, small, steely eyes, and iron-grey hair. He is dressed in what looks like a rather threadbare, somber suit about twenty years out of fashion. The form floats over the grave.:: * Loria bows her head to the spirit in a respectful fashion. "Lord Bonesteel?" <Bonesteel> I am. ::his aristocratic nose goes up, and he looks down it at Loria:: And who are you, that you presume to disturb my rest? <Loria> ::looks at the spirit fiercely:: High Priestess Loria Talarin, of the Blessed Mother. We've questions for you, sir. <Angel> ::in an undertone:: Ask him what really happened to his wife. <Bonesteel> ::he looks faintly irritated, as though he'd just learned that the chit trespassing on his lawn is the duke's only daughter and therefore must be not only tolerated but offered every courtesy:: Of course, Your Radiance. Ask, then, if you will. ::his voice is deep, but there's a crabby, persnickety whine to it that sets the teeth on edge:: <Loria> ::nods:: Lord Bonesteel, please tell us what *actually* happened to your wife. <Bonesteel> ::a crafty look crosses his face:: Why, she died, Your Radiance. ::he looks momentarily sad:: Predeceased me by far too many years.... <Loria> ::her eyes glint:: *How* did she die? <Bonesteel> She died... of her own cleverness, Your Radiance. Oh, she was ingenious, was my poor Sylvia... but not... *quite*... crafty enough. And I had not the knowledge to save her in time. ::he looks sad again:: <Angel> ::in the same soft voice:: Then she didn't run off with the servant? Why did he lie about it? * Loria repeats the question. * Bonesteel draws himself up. "I could not have people poking into my affairs. There would be questions... if she did not run off, well then, where was she? I could not answer without revealing the secret. She didn't know what it was she had found. But I did! I knew it!" <Angel> ::perks up:: What secret? <Loria> ::raises an eyebrow:: What did she find, Lord Bonesteel? <Bonesteel> ::again, the secretive, crafty smile fleets across his face:: She found the Key. Only... she was not as clever as she imagined herself. She found the *wrong* way in. <Dawn> ::frowns:: What's the significance of the dancing girls? <Loria> ::tilts her head in Dawn's direction and repeats his question:: * Bonesteel scowls. "Dancing girls? Sylvia's beautiful Hours? Pimsleur wanted them. But they were *hers,* I tell you, hers and mine! I teased him, yes, but I would never let him put his dirty hands on them. I would never take them from her." His eyes glisten. "She has them still... they dance away the hours for her in the Treasure Room. My beautiful Sylvia...." <Dawn> They *don't*. Pimsleur has all but two, and the boy has them. What are they for? <Loria> ::gestures to Dawn with one hand, repeating what he said like a spiritual mocking bird:: * Bonesteel's form wavers and grows until he towers over them at twice his mortal height, his face flushed with rage. "Pimsleur? That common merchant? No! He cannot have them! They are Sylvia's, I tell you!" He deflates slightly. "They were always her comfort, when she was restless at night. She would lie wakeful, and watch them dance, and be comforted, knowing the hour. At least... until the Key." <Bonesteel> ::he almost seems to wither back to his original size, his shoulders slumping, looking less the proud noble and more a lonely, used-up old man:: I gave them back to her as soon as I could, that she would sleep peaceful. It doesn't matter now, I suppose... she will sleep on eternally without them. My poor Sylvia... ::he shakes his head:: It must have been the boy. He was always such a smart boy. Nothing like his father. ::smiles:: <Dawn> What ke- No. What was the Key *to*? * Loria glances up at the sun with a worried frown. "Did you love her?" She holds up one hand, forgetting that Dawn can't see her. * Dawn scowls and almost turns to ask Loria what happened to his question, then quickly squeezes his eyes shut before he can see anything and turns back around with a faint huff. * Bonesteel's expression turns tender, and he almost smiles. For a moment, the shrewishness fades from his voice, the prunish lines smooth from his mouth, and he looks almost handsome. "Sylvia? Yes. I did not deserve her, nor did she deserve me... but I loved her very much." <Loria> ::swallows hard:: Lord Bonesteel, you know I can't compel you much longer. I'm asking you, please help us. We'll help you in return, we'll return your ladies to your wife, if we can. Give you both peace. Please help us. We believe Flavian has the Key. Tell us what it is, and what we can do about it. * Dawn coughs, several times, but manages not to turn around to stare incredulously at Loria's extravagant promise. <Bonesteel> ::looks briefly hopeful:: Return the Hours to her? Might you-- if you could do such, you could return her to me, we could be together again! But... ::his face falls again, and he shakes his head:: No, no... it would be impossible. I recall it now... I know how the boy got them... perhaps the blood ran true, after all, little thief... ::he sighs:: I had removed them to care for them, and was just putting them back... <Bonesteel> But then I felt so tired, of a sudden... my chest pained me. I put down the second... ::he looks thoughtful, and mimes the action, as if he were setting down a small but heavy statuette:: And then... my hand could no longer hold the Key. It fell, and the Room closed... and then... I fell into blackness. <Bonesteel> ::shaking his head sadly:: I had such hopes for the boy... he was like a son to me, at times, for all his low birth. But no, if he hasn't solved the Key, how might I expect you to? <Loria> ::actually smiles - one might almost say *smirks*:: You see before you two master thieves, a mage, and a lord, both. His wife is a clever woman, as well. Tell me what you can, we'll take it from there. * Angel mutters something under his breath that sounds remarkably like "*Bienca* is the Master Thief." * Dawn mutters something under his breath that sounds remarkably like, "Shut up, boss." <Bonesteel> ::looks hesitant:: It took *me* years of research, even with the head start Sylvia had left for me, to puzzle my way in to Frederach's Treasure Room. By that time, my poor Sylvia was long gone... she must have been so lonely... ::he shakes his head again:: But-- all my notes are locked within. I wanted to keep them safe-- no point in leaving the combination out for anyone to find, after all. <Bonesteel> If you would hazard it, you must be very careful, and very brave-- or reckless, as I was. The Key does not tolerate mistakes. Once you begin its opening, you *must* see it through without mistake, or it will show you the wrong way in-- the way that does not leave you a way out. <Loria> ::swallows again:: And your notes are inside the Treasure Room? <Bonesteel> ::nods:: They are. In Sylvia's keeping, since the first of them are in her hand. If one inside could speak to one outside-- but such is impossible. The Treasure Room does its work well... none of its treasures escape. Nor even their souls... ::he looks infinitely sad:: <Loria> ::narrows her eyes:: Do you know... would psionics work? Between the barrier? * Bonesteel spreads his hands helplessly. "I would answer if I could, Your Radiance, but I have no knowledge of such things. I can only tell you that Frederach, who built the Key and the Treasure Room it holds, was a mage. A most puissant and wicked one." * Loria nods slowly. "All right. Is there... anything else?" Her glorious eyes fill with tears. "I'm really, very sorry about this." <Bonesteel> ::thinking:: I have not the time to tell you the way in, nor do I think I could even describe it well enough, had I such. I can only tell you the things that helped me remember the proper turnings. Follow the snake from tail to tip, and when you are uncertain of the turning, look for a winking skull to show you the direction. <Loria> ::extends her hand and rests it where the dead man's cheek would be, if he could somehow feel her hand:: Thank you. I will only call you again if I've news that you would want to hear. Sleep now, dreamless, my lord. <Bonesteel> One last-- Frederach enjoyed his tricks. Have faith in your instincts, do not let him make you doubt yourself. I thank you, Your Radiance. ::his ghostly hand raises to her hand, and she feels a faint chill on her skin as ghostly lips touch the backs of her fingers:: Good night. ::he fades, and the last rays of the sun again filter into the open grave:: * Loria waits until the spirit is completely gone, then falls face-first into the grass, sobbing. <Jewel> Loria? ::taking a cautious step backward, her eyes on her feet:: He's... gone, isn't he? I don't feel him any longer. Loria...! ::she turns, kneeling and putting her arms around the priestess's shoulders:: * Angel gets to his feet. "Excuse me, one moment." He moves some distance away from them before quietly emptying the contents of his stomach someplace discrete. * Loria sits up, wiping her face with the heel of her hand. "I'm fine... I just... the poor man. That poor *woman*." * Jewel 's eyes are pained as she watches Angel go, and she looks torn between the two of them for a moment. She hesitates, and kneels in the grass, helping Loria up and offering her a clean hanky. <Jewel> He really *didn't* kill her, then. The Key... whatever it is. It... trapped her somehow? * Dawn sits for a long moment, ignoring the others as he stares into space. Finally, he stands and looks around, at the gaping grave, and then at the others. "Well. It could be worse." <Jewel> ::wrapping her arms around Loria and stroking her hair:: *Worse*? <Angel> ::digs a bottle out of his pack and takes a long sip, swishing his mouth out and spitting before actually drinking any:: <Loria> ::nods against Jewel's shoulder:: It can always be worse... It's not so bad, I just... always get a little more emotionally involved than I ought to. <Dawn> Certainly. He could have been an evil fuck who wanted to trap us, too. ::he eyes the Pile thoughtfully:: We get our hands on that Key... I'll open it. * Angel looks over at the small group from the corner of his eye, then drinks about half the wine in the bottle before returning. "Drink, Priestess?" He offers her the bottle. "A little inelegant, I'm sure, but somewhat appropriate, given the setting." <Jewel> ::bites her lip:: Dawn... ::she looks up as Angel returns and releases Loria with a last pat to her shoulders, sitting back on her heels and reaching up to take Angel's hand again.:: <Dawn> ::looks back at Jewel:: Aye? <Jewel> ::swallows, holding Angel's hand to her cheek:: This is... this goes *way* beyond information gathering. <Dawn> Aye, gorgeous. Risks always go up when the stakes do, don't they? * Loria nods and takes the bottle, tilting the wine up like a seasoned drinker. She grimaces, swallows several times, and wipes a tiny trickle off her cheek. "Oh, that's quite vile. I should think you could afford better wine than *this*." <Dawn> Boss, you got-- ::he glances at Loria, then switches to finger-speech:: {You got any reasons we shouldn't step on the brat and take the toy away from him?} <Jewel> ::with a faint smile that doesn't reach her eyes, murmuring:: What vintage *is* appropriate for a corpse-raising? <Angel> {Can't think of any, actually. I thought I'd attend to it personally. Unless...} ::he turns to Jewel:: {My lady?} <Loria> ::sticks her tongue out at Jewel:: Something white. And not quite so dry. * Jewel glances sidelong at the movement of their fingers, and looks up, lifting an eyebrow at Angel questioningly. <Angel> {Should I knife the boy? You are, in this case, at least, the boss.} * Jewel stills, and swallows, looking down at the ground to think. <Loria> ::looks between Jewel, Angel, and Dawn, then gets to her feet:: Oh, for pity's sake. ::she takes the bottle with her and stomps off to the far end of the garden:: * Dawn grins briefly, watching Loria go, then turns his attention back to the Pile. <Jewel> ::winces a little as Loria stomps off, but continues to study the ground, fingers moving almost idly as she thinks:: {He's a coward... that's why he's risking others with this Key instead of trying it himself. Without it, he's harmless. And he may know something about it...} ::she pauses:: {But... he's putting my family in danger. He's *using* my sister, and risking her life for his gain.} <Jewel> ::her hands curl into fists for a moment before opening again:: {A dot. That's about what he'd be worth, yes?} ::she looks up at Angel again:: * Angel considers it. {Maybe less. He's not really dangerous.} <Dawn> ::quietly, so Loria can't hear:: He's a fuckhead. The world's better off without him. But I don't care whether you kill him. I just need the Key. <Jewel> {He's not really Guild either, though.} ::she pauses again, her expression firming:: {Do it. I'll pay you what you think he's worth.} <Dawn> ::thoughtfully:: We'll need to get those dancing girls, too. * Angel looks at Dawn over Jewel's head. "Talk to your... talk to Bie. She's the best." He rubs his hands together. "This could be *quite* profitable." <Jewel> ::quietly, with a grin:: Tell her I'll kick in babysitting on top of her fee. <Dawn> I was hoping not to have to- ::grimaces:: She'll be fucking mad at me if I don't, won't she? <Angel> She's the best. And it's time she's back to work, Dawn. Past time, if you want the truth. <Jewel> Yes. You can tell her about the job when you tell her about the Key. <Dawn> ::to Angel, a bit defensively:: I was leaving it the fuck up to her. She's a bit... off-balance, what with the- ::he makes a vague gesture in the vicinity of his chest:: <Dawn> ::to Jewel:: Tell her about- ::he scowls:: You're going to make me, aren't you? * Jewel smiles beatifically at him. "Fuck, yeah." <Dawn> ::winces:: Pretty girl like you shouldn't fuckin' talk like that. ::he sighs:: All right, fine. <Dawn> ::muttered:: Women. <Angel> ::makes a face:: <Jewel> ::patting him on the shoulder:: *You* taught me to delegate, you know. <Angel> ::growls:: He also taught you to swear like a sailor. Not, I might add, a particularly attractive habit. <Jewel> ::dipping her head:: I'm sorry, my lord. <Dawn> No, you're fucking not. <Angel> ::the corner of his mouth twitches:: Dawn, *stop* saying what I'm thinking. <Jewel> ::mutters something that sounds awfully like "who's the fucking mindbender here, anyway?":: <Dawn> How should *I* know what you're thinking? *She's* the 'bender. ::he looks around at the Pile again:: You two go look after the priestess. I'm going to go poke my nose in where it doesn't belong. If I'm not back in an hour, well... Wait another hour. <Angel> ::snort:: Have fun. <Jewel> If you're not back in two hours, I'm going to try to contact you. Alright? <Dawn> Whatever makes you feel better, boss. ::he grins at her, then dusts grave dirt off his hands and legs and heads toward the house:: * Jewel stares after him. "Did he just call me 'boss'?" <Angel> ::gives her an actual grin:: I believe he did. Boss. <Jewel> ::wrinkles her nose:: Oh, don't *you* start, too! Come on... let's get Loria and see if there's someplace to drink in this town. <Angel> ::puts an arm around her shoulders:: Whatever you say, boss. <Jewel> And stop calling me boss. <Angel> ::considers the request:: Mmmmm. * Jewel raises an eyebrow at him. |
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