Season 1 - Fall

Whitepaws listened carefully, taking mental note of the details when it seemed appropriate. He was mostly there to look large and intimidating, which was easy enough for him.

He wore a dark gray wool coat around a simple white cotton shirt. His usual leather boots went up to his knees, keeping his feet silent and warm, his britches tucked inside of them.

He had no questions.

moarhair wrote:

It seemed like a simple enough job. Brightstone was a posh neighborhood, though, so the Bluecoats there wouldn't be the Phantoms were used to deal with. They would have to be extra careful.

"Are you aware of anyone else who might want this item? Any opposition we might face other than the Watch?"

The man stands silently for a moment. One of his guards twitches near imperceptibly.

"I am not aware of any other parties privy to the item's value and location...not among the living, that is."

He looks to the side before returning his gaze to the party.

"Once you have acquired the item, head down the alley behind Bowmore Way. I'll have a few employees waiting at the old bookstore. They will provide you with compensation."

You know the bookstore - old run down place, abandoned years ago. Never looked too closely at it, but it's one of several store in disrepair on the street. Squatters occupied a few of them. Would be easy enough for a criminal operation to use it as an exchange point for untested contacts.

"Thank you for your assistance in this matter. Good luck."

He departs quickly and vanishes into the mist in a matter of seconds.

Rake was deep in thought as the crew walked out of the park and back towards the Docks. As they left Six Towers, he stopped and looked at the other Phantoms.

"Well, I can think of a few things to do before heading back to the Well to hatch our plan. First, I'd like to get a good look at Mathias' house. See if we can find a subtle way in. Stev, would you mind joining me?"

Just before he leaves, Tekahionwake had picked up on a phrasing Mr. Gaunt had deliberately used and asked a quick question.

"So, can we expect spirits to impede our progress potentially?"

Spoiler:

**GM edit**

Mr. Gaunt pauses and turns sideways to answer the question.

"Trouble from the dead is quite probable. Given your line of work, I assumed you'd come prepared for such...interference. Good luck."

Stev shivered as the man stalked into the mist. He really needed that new coat.

"Ah, it would my pleasure, Rake. Anything to get out of this chill."

Stev patted his pockets, checking to see if he had his notebook ready. Investigation required proper note taking, after all.

"Excellent. Ash, Whitepaws, we'll see you back on the Well."

Rake directed a casual, two-finger salute at them and walked off into the mist with Books, heading for Brightstone.

================================

Rake hadn't been to the rich neighborhood of Brightstone yet. Even to someone of his noble upbringing, the broad, paved, well-lit streets were a bit of a shock. His family's manor had certainly been opulent, but Skovlan's nobility tended to have their estates more distant from one another. Here was a whole city-within-a-city for the affluent. Marble, private lightning barriers, and manicured gardens of actual leafy plants were astonishingly common.

As he had surmised, the bluecoats here were nothing like the ones in other parts of Doskvol. Gleaming armor, marching in orderly ranks, polite.

"Ignore them," Rake whispered to Books, "acknowledging the help will draw suspicion."

They walked on elevated bits of the road installed for pedestrians that the locals called sidewalks. The street was reserved for carriages, many of them powered by electroplasm rather than drawn by Akorosi goats.

As they neared 54 Beech Street, Rake pulled his hat down to hide his eyes in its shadow. "I'm going to see if there's anything that can help us on the other side," he said meaningfully as he attuned to the ghost field.

Stev smiled at Rake as the man whispered about the local bluecoat patrols.

"Well, I shall pretend to ignore them at least. I believe patrols in these areas are more regular and predicable, and it would be useful to test that hypothesis. The wealthy do like their routines." Stev whispered back.

As the lanky Skovlian attuned to the Ghost field, Stev tried his best to maintain the appearance of friends talking a walk. To that effect, Stev decided to try and make small talk. Something that he wasn't particularly proficient in.

"So, the weather is looking nice today. Very... droll. Which is an improvement over yesterday to be sure. Have you been keeping up with your sleep? You look a little tired. Do make sure you're eating well. What do you think of our new friend? I think he could be an interesting person. How's your love life going?" Stev's inane, one sided chatter continues on, sustained by the notion of this is what small talk is.

At first, Marius is stuck by how "quiet" the ghost field seems. It makes sense - Brightstone, being a wealthier district with far less crime than others, will have less supernatural activity on account of how rare violence and murder is in this part of town.

Marius also surmises that wealthy individuals probably have means of "addressing" or removing ghostly presences - perhaps there are whispers or other supernatural experts on hand to cleanse areas or catch the ghosts. He heard tell of these niche professionals in Skovlan, so it would only make sense they exist here too. Far too expensive for your average Doskvol citizen, but likely accessible to nobility with such estates as those before Marius and Stev.

Perhaps the relatively tranquility in the ghost field makes it easier for Marius to notice the slight tingling sensation from the 54. He's not quiet sure what it is - but there's definitely some occult or supernatural activity inside the house. It fits for an associate of the Circle of the Flame.

Rake tried to concentrate on the strange sensation coming from the manor, despite Books' incessant rambling. He could see what the man was trying to do: to make them look inconspicuous, like two old friends out for a walk and a nice conversation. Rake nodded along at first, but when Stev asked about his love life, Marius' thoughts strayed away from his task. He thought about Nyryx. Her rakish grin, her devilish wit, her warmth... but that last one was beyond reach, now.

He sighed and looked up from his reverie, only to be shocked to notice they had overshot their target. He had missed his chance, and if he was right about the way a nearby Bluecoat patrol was looking at them, it was best not to try another pass.

The manor at 54 is elegant and stylish, but the estate itself is not as sprawling as some nearby houses, covering less than an acre. A 8 foot brick wall surrounds the property, with an ornate metal gate at the front entrance. Stev and Marius spot two bluecoats at the entrance on their walk. The manor itself is two stories tall, grand to commoners but modest for a noble.

From the street, Stev can identify a few possible entry points. Five chimneys - quite dirty and unpleasant, but manageable provided they're not all in use. There also appear to be windows on all sides of the building across both floors.

Whitepaws pokes around the back of the estate to investigate further. Careful not to risk drawing any attention, he finds a dark spot between street lamps and clambers onto the edge of the wall for a closer look. The grounds of the estate feature no vegetation other than low level ground cover. Nothing much grows anywhere in Doskvol without specialized artificial lighting systems, save for the freakishly beautiful glowing trees in Jayan Park.

In lieu of hedges, flowers, or gardens, the grounds sport an assortment of marble statues in varying states of disrepair. Each depicts a different mythological creature, from gargoyles to a hydra and manticore.

After studying the estate for a few moments, Whitepaws spots one additional entry option. There's a doorway in the back - presumably an entrance for servants.

The crew leaves the scene with several viable options. They know how to get inside the manor...but what will they find inside?

House pic:

Score 2

The party ducks down an alley and positions themselves against the rear wall of 54 Beech Street estate. The moon hangs large and bright in the clear sky, offering visibility to you and any of your enemies in kind. The fall evening air is crisp, you can barely see your breath in the air before you. A shiver runs down your spine as the wind ruffles your coat or cloak.

Everything seems to be going to plan...until someone notices the commotion at the front of the manor.

More bluecoats than there were earlier - bad news. Unfortunately, that's just the tip of the iceberg. Your unease intensifies when you realize that there are Inspectors in their midst, the criminal investigation wing of the city watch.

Evidently, the pencil pushers moved faster with that paperwork than expected...it appears the house is will be searched momentarily for criminal evidence and artifacts. It's time to move, and move quickly at that.

Leaning against the cool stone wall, Rake was feeling somewhat apprehensive. Their first score had gone so well, he had thought he might have manage to leave his rotten luck in Skovlan. He should have known better.

"Well, it looks like it's now or never. We won't have much cover, so stay low and move quickly." He paused. "Unless one of you thinks they can stall the authorities?" He asked hopefully.

Whitepaws briefly considered going around front and beating the shit out of one of the inspectors. That would definitely cause a distraction, but it could ultimately bring more unwanted attention to the group.

"I could always go kick in a door at one of the manor's next door. Get the people inside scared and calling for the blues. Might take some pressure off this house, but not indefinitely."

If it needed to get done, Tekahionwake would see it done.

"Let's just head inside guys, no one's looking, it will be far easier to find what we need to smuggle out with more people inside." Ash jumped over the wall then walked slowly with her head low directly to the servant's door. She gently giggled it to find it locked. <<Time to have fun.>> She thinks with a smirk on the face, this fine lockpicks had been worth every silver.

Ash is gone before Rake can think of a response. He shrugs to the others and follows her over the wall. Staying low, he rushes to the servants' door. He takes up position next to Ash as she picks the lock, listening intently for any sign that the Bluecoats are making their move.

For a moment the pressure is winning over Ash, coats at the front, the full crew behind her waiting to get inside. She almost lets the picking tools slide to the floor but manages to focus back. <<Breath Helker, one tooth at a time then twist the handle>> Click, the door opens and she breaths again. "After you gentlemen."

Ash moves the tools very softly and adeptly. With a quiet click, the lock opens. The door creaks as you push it inward.

The first room you enter is something of a storage room. A couple coats hang on the wall, a broom rests against one corner. There is a shelf full of tools, i.e., equipment for maintenance and other assorted items gathering dust.

There are no lights so it is very dark, the only thing cutting through the gloom is the moonlight falling through the open door.

Whitepaws nods and goes silent. Now the hunt was on. He climbed over the wall, hitting the ground like a cat given his sot leather boots. He waits patiently as Ash skillfully opens the door.

Whitepaws entered the house ready for anything. Red cigar box. Where are you?

He had very low hopes it would be in the servant's entrance, nor anywhere near it. No. It would be higher up. He made ready to move.

Rake makes his way through the storage room carefully.

"We'll cover more group if we split up," he says in hushed tones. "I felt some sort of arcane energy when we scouted the place, I'll see if I can find it. It might be what we're looking for."

When he gets to the other end of the room, Rake closes his eyes and concentrates, trying to lock his perceptions on the strange energy he had felt from outside.

Rake gasps and falls to one knee as he connects to the ghost field. The quiet, old manor suddenly feels like it's bursting with activity. He hears restless spirits straining against their bonds, bellowing maddened cries. He feels the electric pull of something drawing spirits towards the house. Nausea fills him as he perceives what seems to be a demonic presence of some kind.

But, among all the ruckus, he feels a thread, like something connected to them by fate. He follows it, coursing along its path and finds an emerald gem, resting in a red cigar box. Rake gets the sense that this gem in particular is red-hot with the attention of spirits, overflowing with some arcane power and yet associated with a long history of tragedies and disaster.

He opens his eyes and lets out a shaky sigh.

"Nevermind. I've found it. Up on the first floor, on the western side. Come on."

He opens the door to the next room and slithers through.

Whitepaws nodded and was about to head out when Rake fell to his knees. He crouched low and kept a sharp lookout in their immediate vicinity. As Rake's revelation came forth, the Severosi was quite surprised.

His connection to the spirit world is strong, he thought, noting Marius' clear strength. Without a word, he follows.

Ash follows after making sure nothing remains that can give them away.

The inspectors hadn't entered the building yet. They are still talking shop on the other side of the main door and when Ash moves towards the stairs alongside her crew she recognizes one of the voices, pausing mid-step. <<Is that Inspector Vale? Damn our luck, she will recognize us.>>

"We better hurry guys, inspector Vale is here and she won't  be happy to see us again." She murmurs.

"That woman seems to be drawn to us. Let's get this done." Tekahionwake's heart sped up slightly at the mention of the inspector. They were definitely making a name for themselves; he hoped they would be able to keep the heat off of them for a bit longer. It would be nice to actually accumulate some power and wealth before they had to go on the war path with the Bluecoats.

The group nudges open the door opposite the one you entered. They sneak through a gloomy, well-kept kitchen before stepping out into a hallway. As they approach the circular staircase, they hear an array of sounds from the front hall.

Loudest is someone pounding at the door. A muffled voice follows - it must be Inspector Vale.

"Open up. We have a warrant - don't make me bash down this door."

A couple of voices can be heard speaking softly inside the hall as well.

"Whatever shall we do, sir?"

A lower voice with a more refined accent replies.

"Don't worry, Seamus. I'm only letting Miss Vale wear herself out a bit. I have been expecting this..."

They needed to be smooth and quick now. The Inspector would check the first floor first, at least logic dictated as much. They simply needed to find a means to escape. Since Marius knew where the package was, Whitepaws kept his eyes out for alternate escape routes - fire escapes, etc.

Ash nudges Rake from behind. "It sounds like we still have time, but we better hurry." Though she wouldn't mind having some verbal sparring with the inspector, it's fun to have someone to test her abilities against, not only brown but brains too. Ash smirked that could be a possible long project to work in between jobs.

Rake nods at his sister. Time was running out and they needed to hurry.

"If he comes looking, let our host know we're here to help."

He turns and hurries up the steps.

Stev followed in the footsteps of the Helker siblings. This was their realm of expertises. Stev felt a stab of disappointment. This score hadn't been planned as well as he had hoped, and it seemed like it could collapse at any moment. Bluecoats were acting quickly, and that Inspector had once again, turned up at the worst time. This was the thing that Stev hated the most; unpredictable circumstances.

"Quickly and quietly if you please. Look out for alternative escape routes. Possible distractions as a plan B would be useful. I would prefer not to end up relying on plan C, with the Inspector here, it might not work."

The party slinks up the stairs and through a fancy reading room. Several book shelves line the walls, along with paintings in ornate frames. A globe sits on a small table beside a plush armchair. From here, you can see out the front windows to the bluecoats looking increasingly disgruntled below.

As you pass through the room, you hear the door swing open below and the irritated voice of Inspector Vale.

"Well good evening Mr. Von Albrecht, so nice of you to let us in. Boys, start on the ground floor and work your way up. I want no gilded salt shaker left unturned."

Her tone is sneering and derisive, she clearly relishes her authority over the noble.

Opposite the door you enter is another door that is slightly ajar. Is that footsteps you hear inside?

Without making any conscious effort to assess the atmosphere, Rake gets an inexplicable sense of dread emanating from the next room as he approaches. It certainly is the epicenter of this supernatural activity..

Rake stops a few feet from the door across the reading room.

"Step back, grab your spiritbane charms and keep an eye on the door we came in. Whatever you do, don't turn around until I give you the all clear."

The Whisper takes a deep breath and attunes to the ghost field. He turns his polarity up seeking to attract nearby spirits to him.

Whitepaws was not some proud fool. In matters of the spirit world, he trusted the experts. He turned and kept an eye on their approach, staying to the shadows and hugging walls as he did. He clutched his spiritbane charm in his hand and waited.

EDIT: The Severosi focused inward, reciting a prayer softly, so low that even he himself could barely hear it. If Rake was going to calm evil spirits, they all needed all the help they could get. Tekahionwake remembered back to the words of his elders, calming the spirits around them, forcing them to remember the good they had endured in life. Not just the bad.


He repeated the mantra.

An uneasy quiet fills the air. For a brief moment, nothing happens. No one moves, the party merely holding their breath and waiting to see what comes next...whether it's a malevolent spirit or a bluecoat thug wandering up the stairs.

Just as Rake starts to fear that his connection to the spirit world has come up short, something joins them. Everyone's hair raises on end. The air itself feels electric, and ice spiderwebs across the nearest couple windows. Then Rake hears a cough between himself and the others.

"Who said anything about peace?"

Rake cautiously looks over his shoulder. A nobleman in a dark tail coat and trousers stands before you. His hair is gray, his skin wrinkled and old. But what really stands out is the large chunk of flesh missing from the left side of his face, including his eye. It appears he was shot in the head, perhaps with a blunderbuss.

The top portion of his vest is covered in blood, as is the side of his neck. It's as if he was shot only a few moments ago. His right eye, still intact, glows blue behind a monocle.

"What is it?" He snarls, scowling. He looks ready to pierce a dagger into Rake's neck for disturbing him.

Rake lets out a shaky breath. He can feel the tethers of power binding he has coiled around spirit, but also the outrage and the potential for violence pouring off of it.

Moving away from the windows, he stands and faces the ghost, straightening his shirt and jacket to look more presentable. He then bows to the dead nobleman, trying very hard not to look at his ruined head.

"Pardon us for the disturbance, my Lord. I simply require some information about the next room," Rake says in a quiet voice, indicating the door. "We're seeking to retrieve an item, a red cigar box with an emerald gem inside. Could you please let us know if there is anything that might hinder our attempts at retrieving it and if there are any other items that Mathias Von Albrecht might want to keep out of the authorities' hands in there?"

The ghost's lip twitches as he listens to Rake speak. He shifts uncomfortably, irritation and malevolence all but written across his face.

But his face contorts into a mirthless smile when Rake mentions the gem. He chuckles and raises his one remaining eyebrow.

"The Emerald Well? That's what you're after? I suppose someone, somewhere will always covet it..."

He sighs, the smile disappearing.

"No traps, no hindrances...none save all the hungry spirits drawn by that emerald, that is. As for the other items...only a fool takes something from an occultist without knowing exactly what it is and what it does."

"Is that all, boy?" He takes a step and leans forward aggressively. It feels as if the air around Rake drops 5 degrees when he does so.

Rake considers asking the ghost to delay the Bluecoats. It would certainly be effective, but it went against all of his training. He'd spent years protecting people in uniforms from rogue spirits. He'd never even sent any against the damn Imperials.

Besides, he could feel his hold slipping.

"Yes, that is all. Thank you for your assistance."

Whitepaws hadn't turned to look at the spirit, keeping his attention on the environment. Those who were situationally aware survived longer. In his head, he repeated the mantra once more, knowing that some small part of it had assisted Rake.

Ash looks at the bookcases searching for something interesting, the daredevil in her was pushing to take one but then the cold aura of the ghost made her stop. What if something followed her back home with the book?  She straightened her back and did all she could to ignore the goosebumps.  <<Marius has it under control, focus on his voice, he is under control.>>

"Yes, that is all. Thank you for your assistance." When she hears her brother thank the ghost she focuses once more. <<Get in  the game Helker, now is not the time for a cheap adrenaline rush.>>

As the ghost appeared and accosted Rake, Stev shuddered. That voice reminded him of a more unpleasant situation, in tone if not in timbre. It was a memory he tried hard to forget.

"Rake, does the esteemed gentlemen mean that ghosts will try and stop us from getting the item?"

The ghost harrumphs at the indignity of being dismissed and quickly fades from view.

Rake sighs and turns to the crew.

"He's gone, you can all look now. I'm pretty sure he meant we will draw spirits to us as we transport the item, Books. We'll have to move fast and get rid of it before we attract too much attention." He crosses his arms and thinks for a second. "He called it The Emerald Well... maybe it acts as a portable spirit well? Interesting."

He edged closer to the door to the next room as he theorized, and then peered through the opening.

The room boasts an array of glass cabinets and wooden display stands. On the ceiling is a masterfully painted mural of what appears to be angels and demons engaged in a vicious, bloody battle over some heavenly realm. Exquisite wood paneling covers the walls between the windows that surround the room on three of the four sides.

Within the cabinets and on the display stands are a range of strange looking artifacts. There's a shrunken head, an amulet, what appears to be some strange remnants from an archaeological dig, and even a longsword with strange runes inscribed along its blade laying horizontal on a stand.

Curious as these artifacts may be, Rake eyes a chest in the corner and intuitively knows that the so-called Emerald Well lies inside.

There is a palpable sense that something alive is thrumming in the room. The eyes of the shrunken head seem to glow, watching and waiting for you to take a step through the door. Below, a bluecoat shouts to another that the room is cleared - evidently, you don't have much time until they start searching here as well.

Rake slips into the lavishly decorated room. As he makes his way to the chest, he eyes the other artifacts, greed and curiosity warring with wariness behind his eyes. Reluctantly, he decides to heed the spirit's warning, and focuses on his quarry.

When he reaches the chest, he crouches down in front of it and takes a few seconds to examine it, looking to see if there any wards to contain the Emerald Well's power. If so, he reckons, it would be best to take the whole thing, rather than just the box within.

The chest, however resplendent, is shockingly mundane. The ornate bronze lock holding down its lacquered oak lid is all that stands between the crew and their prize.

Rake stands and turns to his sister, gesturing to the chest in a polite "after you, my lady" fashion.

"Ash, if you would do us the honor."

"Let's go. We cannot dawdle here."

Whitepaws made ready to move and get out. Simultaneously he prepared himself for the violence that was always inevitable.

Smirk on her face Ash took out her lockpicking tools. "Allow me."

Stev gave good directions, only he would have prepared for a hit by buying a bunch of locks to improve their chances. But this lock was taking a bit more work to open.
<<The sword could get them an extra coin.>> The lock resists the turn, making a screech with the resistance.  <<Furthermore how cool would it be to end the score with an extra bounty?>> Her mind kept going back to all the extra things they could get from this room, the rush of the gamble chipping at her resolve. The lock screeched again. "Damn it Helker, focus or you won't get anything." She mumbled. A click could be heard, only one more click away from opening it. She smirked.

While Ash works on the lock, Rake wanders looking at the different artifacts on display. He stops in front of the shrunken head and bends down to look at it through the cabinet's door. As he moves in front of it, its glowing eyes seem to follow him. Is it curious, or something darker that animates them so, wonders Rake.

He lifts his arm to reach for the cabinet's handle, but stops when he hears the sound of steps and voices coming up the stairs. The Bluecoats are moving on to the first floor... He quickly makes his way to the gallery's door and eases it closed.

Rake looks at his sister and smiles reassuringly. "I've never known a lock that could stop you, Ash. You can do it."

Rake gets an inexplicable and uncomfortable sense that the shrunken head will remember his visage.

Ash, comforted by Rake's words, moves quickly on the lock and pops it open seemingly without effort. The lid hinges backwards with a quiet squeak. Inside is a set of dark robes and the red box.

Meanwhile, the sword on the stand seems to call to Whitepaws. Staring at it for a moment, he starts to reflect on how effective it would be as a killing tool...it would be quite unmatched in hand to hand combat, wouldn't it? It was no ordinary sword...it's lust for blood is all but written on the blade.

The party hears someone begin rummaging through the next room. If anyone makes the slightest noise, someone will be in this room to investigate...you can also hear Vale giving orders. She is right there - she can't be farther than 6 or 7 meters away.

<<Yes! Need to step up my game, this lock took more time than it should.>>

The red box is sitting right there for Ash to take but the moment her hand touched it the goosebumps come back and she can't help but remember that time Marius had came back with his first arcane object. A book he had stolen from father's study. The book had had a nasty that left her with bad luck and spooky shadows following her for months.

"All yours brother, I'm not touching any arcane stuff without you checking them first." She says.

Quietly, Rake makes his way across the room. He squats in front of the chest and lifts the red cigar box out. It feels oddly cold to the touch, like a block of ice. As soon as he takes it, Rake feels like he's being watched by something hungry. It reminds him of the woods of Skovlan, when he was hunting spirits with his old unit during the war, never sure whether he was the predator or the prey... He slips it into his satchel and breathes a sigh of relief as the feeling lessens.

"Let's go," he mouths silently, indicating the northern window with a jerk of his head.

The window has an iron crossing pattern separating the glass panes. It rests on metal hinges and is held shut by a sliding bolt. Rake creeps to it and pulls out a vial of oil from his bag. He applies the oil to the hinges and latch, and then slowly opens it as far as it can go.

Whitepaws reaches out and takes the sword. He knew that anything that talked to his soul about spilling blood was probably horrifically evil, all the better for Rake to study before he put it to use. It rested almost too comfortably on his back.

He made his way to the window.

I better get a pat on the back for thinking this far ahead, he thought. He almost started laughing...


Early That Morning...

It was the day of the score and Whitepaws had prowled around the back alleys of the affluent neighborhood. He marked the target and took note of its layout. Lots of doors. Lots of windows, but logic would dictate that something so important would probably not be on the ground floor.

What he had noticed, however, was that it was apparently time to clean the gutters of dead debris and small rodent corpse, as some other houses had already started setting up ladders to do so.

With a quick look around, Tekahionwake spotted a few ladders near the outdoor shed. The largest room seemed the most likely to be a trophy room of sorts, so he wagered that that would be their best bet. Like a cat, he hopped the wall and went to work setting it up...

Whitepaws went to the window and looked out... and saw nothing.

The ladder wasn't there. One of the workers must have seen it and returned it to the shed, completely oblivious to his well thought out plan.

Well so much for that, he thought with ever growing frustration. Luckily, Ash had brought some climbing gear. With hands on the rope, he started his descent.

Gods, smile on me now. But he knew the gods could be fickle, indeed.