Chapter 1: Interesting Times

Cecilia Arrington


Cecilia watches Cled and Davore work, nodding as she understands what he means and smiling. "I think we can manage that." She grins at Andran. "Between the two of us, we will have the next part in no time."
 
One by one, the slides are extended. The last is pulled forth with a final *CLICK*, there is silence. Moments of it in fact.


Then comes the grinding, and ticking, a whirr of gears that chimes musically, echoing a strange path through the box, until-


With an anticlimactic lack of sound, a bottom panel pops open, revealing a something long and thin sequestered inside...
 
Hulbrad Fortesque


Not immediately understanding the Orc, but gathering something of import has been determined, Q makes a brief mindscan - just surface thoughts, nothing invasive. Only to get the meaning of the words.


And then claps his attenuated hands, watches the procedure, and inwardly chides himself for not thinking of it sooner.


He stares hard at the object in the open panel.

Spending 10 Essence on a quick Telepathy to understand Cled.


Now rolling magic sight to check the object for anything the wards haven't caught.


[dice]8304[/dice]
 
Andran





Hard at work, Andran continued following the Orc's orders up until the panel fell open. All eight of her eyes land upon the panel and the contents within. To anyone looking at her, it was painfully obvious that a conflict was taking place. Her normal hands drop the papers she was going through clap together with one solid *clap*. Her body hangs as all her mechanical legs plant and hold her back from launching forward. Her body shakes, anxiety rapidly peaking as her lips murmur


"Mine...mine...want now"





The only thing holding her back is the bit of her that watched the Lybar creations die. Something about the twitching legs keeping her away but just barely.
 
Lybar Davore





A last service is required, little servitor, before I take your life back into mine.





Davore leans forward and jabs a finger twice, once to the mantis, to catch its attention, and then to the object in the hidden compartment.


Fetch.





Otherwise, remaining well behind the wards.
 
Cled


The orc's face splits into a wide grin, sharp triangular teeth gleaming from ear to pointed ear.


For a moment, he raises his hands in an open 'what'd I tell ya' motion, shaking his head in a silent triumph.


Oh right. Serious business. Resume scowl.


The inward giggling continues.
 
Retrieved from the sudden gaping entrance on the side is two things... a small piece of paper, and tea platter. The servitor struggles with the platter, dragging it across the marble floor with some effort, and visibly wilting once it is relieved of its burden.


The paper is old yellowed parchment, torn from a larger piece, with the words "I begin at the end" written on one side. Other than that, there doesn't seem to be anything more to it.


The tea platter is similarly enigmous. Its slender frame appears delicate until held, when the weight of basalt becomes apparent. Thin sandstone like striations form a pattern across its top, denoting specific places where the rest of the set should be placed. There's something oddly familiar about it...


"Is that it?" mutters Helmine softly. "It's simply a shred of paper and a mouldy old tea tray. Hardly treasure in this day and age, and certainly not worth all this rigamarole..."


"Are there any further services which I can enact for the most honorable Ascended or their guests?" inquired Hrune quietly, repeating herself again in Tradestongue for the others. She was silently placing the dirty or empty plates back under the trolley, seemingly completely ignorant of the situation at hand.
 
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Cled


His thick brow raises again, staring at the tea tray and unreadable paper.


"Any ideas?"


He glances at Q, hoping someone would translate. This lot seemed like the tea loving type... tea was out of his depth as well. Just hot leaf water....
 
Andran


"Pppperhaps the set is of some sort of antiquarian artifact and holds value?" The Yrva quickly going to numbers and coins before stopping to consider the other object. She leans forward at the gift dragged over by the servitor, hesitant to touch but eager to examine. "I begin at the end. Either the note is of little consequence and is torn from some kekeke-manuscript of greater concern or we are being graced by a puzzle of words."


She stares back at the group with all her eyes.


"I do not enjoy word puzzles that withhold secrets"
 
Hulbrad Fortesque





Q delicately lifts the set, examine it from several angles, then sets it back down.


"Incomplete - the set must be much larger. Much larger, perhaps a whole dinner service."


He crouches and eyeballs the set from the edge of the table.


"Complex powers here imbued. I can scarcely wait to use it."
 
Davore





Delicately folding the little symbiont back into himself - well done, little fragment, good job, now come back to me and be whole - Davore speaks.


"So...a tea party? Excellent. Is there a cue for the number of settings which must be prepared?"


Davore takes a look over Q's shoulder. How many settings are there on the tray?


"I begin at the end. Uh, that is 'I begin at the end', Mr. Bedwyr. Perhaps it does something amusing, or dreadful, when people have finished tea and cake provided on this fine service?"
 
Cled


Davore's explanation raises his heavy brow in curiosity, before furrowing once more in thought.


He glances up at Q quizzically, "You haven't come across any new teacup sets lately have you?"


He pauses in hope that someone will translate.


"I begin at the end," ... meaning the end of the tea ceremony, or the end of our mystery mans life? His grave is here, yes?"


The poor hamster in it's wheel looks ready for a heart attack. Poor thing's being overwork in that thick skull.
 



  • Hrune glides about the space, refilling tea cups as needed and retrieving empty plates as wanted. She skirts the wards with a wide berth, but otherwise gives no inclination as to what's occurring in front of her at all.


 
Andran


Seeing no value in the discovery of the tea set in its current state, Andran begins to go through possible options on how to eek some value out of it.


Other than outright selling it, the option first and foremost is to see what the set does. A few eyes roll over to land on Hrune, desire to order her to setup a Hulbrad tea ceremony using the set rising.


Casually she brings up the subject.


"Let us use the set then. I want to see what happens. There must be value to be found here"
 
Cled


"Using tea sets for keys and books as poisonous traps and boxes as puzzle pieces. Whatever happened to a fair punch?" the orc mutters, massaging his eyes and temples with gnarled fingers.


"Even your tongue has nine different ways you can read it, what gives..."


The sentence trails off before the twinge of a whine develops.


I'd almost take getting turned to stone over these pompous pricks taking any longer to deliberate over this shit. You're not the House of Sloth for nothing.


Sigh. Grumble. Growl. Murrrrrrr.
 
As you deliberate between yourselves, Hune has several other servants come and dispose of the mess and the wards, supplying Davore with more meats to consume, and ensuring there is an ample stock of fine teas and coffees to go around.


Making your way back to the center of the library, you convene before the statue of the honoured founder. Vedemosti stares down from beneath his furrowed brows, and from within the wild thick rolls of his beard and hair.


Hune bows again as you settle.


"Valued servants shall pore over the rest of the collection, ensuring that no possible oversight has been taken regarding any other theoretically secreted caches within the assembled volumes. Additionally, I have chartered a flight for the most honored Ascended Hulbrad and his guests to Kree Spire, to examine the final volume," explains the girl softly.
 
Cled


Did I hear that right?


The orc turns, raising a brow at the diminutive servant.


He glances at the rest of the party pensively. No one here ordered a chartered airship flight - at least he didn't hear anyone, and he'd be damned if he doubted his hearing now - and he was pretty sure as a servant it'd be above her station to do such a thing.


"On ... whose orders?" he hazards a guess at Hune.
 
Yrva Andran


"Ohhohoho-tck-tck. If you need someone of Infernal Blood to vouch for-for you at Kree, I'll do it, Large one of exquisite features."


Andran makes busy, sampling the meats intended for the Lybar with gusto. The little spider was feeling famished with worry over her fathers message, doubt creeping into her mind over the fiscal viability of this project.


With a sizable portion of meat being torn to ribbons by her inscisors, she speaks up once again. "Just to voice my concerns, we will be able to find use for these Verdemosti ar-tck-facts on the markets? Outside markets, not just scion holds? Gems, gold, and barter all are required for my continued participation~"
 
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Hulbrad Fortesque


Q nods placidly. He doesn't need to know whence the order comes - these things reveal themselves sooner rather than later.


"Excellent work, intuitive and valued Hune. Request dossiers on the captain and crew from whomever is responsible for such things at this time," he says.


Traditionally, no one in House Hulbrad knows who the Hulbrad spymaster actually is, but the idea of not having one is utterly unthinkable.
 
Cecilia Arrington





Cecilia tilts her head at Hrune and absently rubs at her ear at the mention of Kree Spire. "Well, that certainly settles where we head next." She smiles at her companions, then to Cled. "Been a while since I've been to Kree Spire. I wonder if it's changed any." She muses curiously.
 
Cled


He attempts a feeble smile at Little Miss, "Well I don't mind where we go, as long as it ain't here,"


The sooner we get out, the better.
 
It takes remarkably little time to prepare for the airship. Upon going to your rooms, you find a veritable host of servants teeming through the doors, packing away clothing, tools, research materials, and personal possessions. Though they are endlessly polite and deferential, they seem to be immune to orders to stop what they're doing, or any command contrary to this primary mission. At most, you receive heartfelt apologies accompanying a deep bow, but affirm they have been given strict instructions. When pressed about who gave these particular instructions, they remain silent.


In little more than an hour or so, all of you find the majority of your essential material possessions neatly packed away, transported by a horde of docile blank-eyed servants into the the depths of a small, sprightly, skyship.


Hrune, as calm and inscrutable as always, is waiting for you, standing upon the deck with hands clasped before her. She's flanked by Phillip, the large silent servant, and by Harrison, the somewhat nervous newcomer.


"Is there anything the most honored Ascended and esteemed visitors would appreciate taken care of, or requests to be carried out in their absence?" inquires Hrune softly.
 
Davore





"I place the highest of trust in the faith and discretion of the staff of this edifice. That said, it may become necessary to change the water in Montmorency's jar, approximately once in each period of thirty days. The tumour can exist on a meager diet of proteins and sugars, and must be discouraged from attempting to consume any helping hands."


Davore finally allows an actual smile to creep onto his face.


"I thank you very much for your assistance while I have been here."
 
Hrune bows deeply.


"I will see to it that the servants in charge of maintaining your quarters are properly informed of this, and that your tumour will continue to be fed in perpetuum in the absence of your Ascended majesty,"


"As for assistance, this humble servant thanks you for the appreciation of one most high, and will continue to provide the utmost in service for the duration of your trip alongside the hallowed House of our Ascended masters,"
 
Hulbrad Fortesque





Q trusts Hrune to do her job, and has already made his minimal wishes known to the staff that haunt his quarters.


Arriving on he ship, therefore, he simply busies himself with exploring the vessel with a book in one hand.
 
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