Crimson Dawn's Older Log Flood
WHO: Crimson Dawn, Unsleeping Bride
WHERE: Bayou of Endless Regret, Creation
WHEN: December 15th, 2006.
WHAT: Crimson Dawn, on a Most Important Quest from the Silver Prince, is off to attempt to bargain...for better food for Skullstone. Since, well, their food sucks.
GateMUSH - Friday, December 15, 2006, 7:48 PM
---------------------------------------------
Gratification's Array
The question of the foot traffic is promptly answered once the city is entered. There are no roads, although there are foot bridges near sea level, and sky bridges of gray-planked wood with iron railings over the dank canals, whose rich and faintly corrupt scent forms the underbelly of the humid city.
The smell of a dozen forms of smoke curl through the streets together with rich scents of cooking, in contrast to the usual bland or rotting scents of the Underworld. The ripeness of decay is never far, but it is covered, or at least masked, by the wide assortment of fragrances emanating from kitchens and cookhouses.
The shuttered and dank establishments and hostelries are bustling, if often strangely quiet where music is not playing. Music can be heard in virtually any part of the town, if only at a faint distance, usually the grimmer and more morbid melodies favored by the dead, but very occasionally featuring a "live" band or performer. The popular ones, of course, never leave.
The Radiant Epicure of Time's Delights dwells in a palatial abode in the center of the city, surrounded by smaller, refined townhomes for those whom he favors.
Contents:
Unsleeping Bride
The Unsleeping Bride's townhouse is rather average, really, by Gratification's Array's standards; but then, average here means that it is three stories tall and could be called a reasonable mansion in many of the cities of Creation. It is made of dark wood, with many large windows along the third story underneath tilted eaves to keep the periodic drizzle off.
The door is imposing, standing as it does atop four heavy stone steps, with a black iron knocker in the shape of a twisted wedding robe before it. A nearby window makes the knocker, perhaps, a matter of formality; a ghost with half its face twisted and a half-dozen suits of heavy linen worn at once is sitting right inside, watching any who might approach.
Hmmmmm. Yes, well, I /suppose/ that one could call it a /DECENT/ little house. I mean, for a house in the middle of a swamp. Still, Crimson Dawn's out on a mission. A mission in which he MUST SUCCEED! I mean, after all...
Let's be honest here. The food in Onyx? Not that great. I mean, it's good ENOUGH...And some of it is downright delicious, especially for those with the money to afford to bring it in and the like...but the fact is, Onyx is a bit isolated, so new or redundant sources of foodstuffs are always useful!
And that is what has brought this Abyssal a hunting.
After all, if one needs food and preparation of such for a good number of people, one might as well talk to an expert!
The window is leaned through by the ghostly butler - it seems to be open, at least on this level, though the ones up higher have the gleam of glass. "Greetings," he (from the voice, anyway) says, mouth slightly twisting the words. "Are you expected by the mistress? She is in repose, and has not informed me of expected guests." His tone is quite respectful, at least.
There is a rich smell of SOMETHING from within; something sweet.
The visiting deathknight just tuuuuurns slightly, eyeing the butler, and raises an eyebrow slightly. "...I see. I am here on business. Do let her know that Crimson Dawn is here on a matter that I have been told she has some expertise with." The best thing about being an Abyssal is that ability (Some of them get it as an inherent skill!) of adding '...Or I'm Going To Rip Your Soul In Half If You Don't Do What I say!' as an unspoken threat!
The butler watches for a long moment. The name requires some interpretation; however, the smell of living blood, however hidden, is clear enough. "Of course, my lord," he says with a deep bow of the head, stepping over to open the heavy, creaking doorway.
He kneels, with the difficulty that comes from a disfigured leg. "The mistress is in her parlor, atop the landing. Shall you prefer to be announced?" He extends a hand to indicate a spiralling staircase that leads up a slightly crooked atrium towards the next two stories.
There is some rustling and clattering from somewhere in the back of the house, perhaps the kitchen.
The Abyssal strides in through the door, glancing down at the butler, and shakes his head, striding past the crippled ghost towards the stairs. "No need. I'll announce myself." And, with that, the Abyssal, well, climbs the stairs. I mean, really, not EVERYTHING is totally awesome in Exalted (Just most of it). At the top of the stairs, he stops at the entrance to the aforementioned landing and knocks precisely, then announces himself. Sigh. He really hates this part. It's so...unneccasary.
"I am the Bringer of Darkness in the Crimson Dawn, here on business from the Bodhisattva Annointed by Dark Water."
Grumble. All the power and stuff is nice, but sheesh, names, such long names!
There is a languid reply from within the parlor. "I am certain you know who I am; please, enter freely, and of your own will." The door is one of those folding/sliding numbers, and moves easily.
Bride is reclining on a couch of dark leather, holding a pipe easily in one hand as her elbow rests against a rise of the side of the furniture. She is, of course, dressed casually, and she uses her free hand to gesture at a couch across from her. "Please, my dear guest, take your ease. You may remove the cloak if you wish, and I am sure you are weary from your journey; did you make use of the Gates?"
...Well, she isn't THAT likely to try to assassinate him. Probably. Maybe. Asides, he's here on business! As such...Crimson does pull the cloak down, at least, revealing his face, and sits down on the offered couch, nodding calmly at the Bride.
"I'm fine. The journey wasn't particularly hard, especially with the ease these gates offered. As for why I'm here, well, I suppose you can guess, hmm? My lord is expecting to need to entertain a number of guests in the future, and has instructed me to procure your services in ensuring that they can be properly victualed in a manner befitting his status. Specifically, in food and chefs fit for the living and honored dead."
Small Talk is for OTHER Exalted! Or after business is concluded. Whatever!
Bride presses the stem of the pipe to her lips as she listens, breathing in and then exhaling slowly as she considers. "I -see-," she says, after a few moments, glancing towards the tall Exalt out of the side of her eyes. "Mine personally? I am very honored... your lord is quite generous. I shall of course have to speak with mine own, but he is also generous, and my tasks now are at, mm, my discretion."
She half-turns to let her legs curl up, rolling onto her sides. "How many, then? What taboos do they observe? Will this be with your local cuisines?" She also reaches over to jingle a small bell that is nearly silent with a fingertip.
JUST as she does it, there is a sepulchural 'TONG' downstairs.
Unsleeping Bride has partially disconnected.
Crimson Dawn smiles pleasantly. "Ah. The numbers, their dining habits, and what sort of food? Hmmm. Well, that is the thing, you see." The Abssal smiles quite pleasantly.
"I have no idea. My lord is attempting to plan ahead for when he inevitably ends up hosting some visitors from afar, after all. I suppose, to be more precise, that this isn't planning for a current group of guests. There aren't many guests at this moment, and we can certainly provide for what we have at the moment, but my lord wishes to set up the potential for taking care of a large number of guests in style, should the need arise, as well as to provide some variety. Delicacies from all over, that sort of thing."
The Bride uncrosses, then recrosses her legs as she looks thoughtful. "Oh, I -see-," she says with another draw on the pipe. "Mm. Well, that is a bit of a larger project... we shall have, of course, to train some of your own residents, so that you will not have to rely on us forever." She smiles wanly. "Unless you wish to, of course; I am told that mutual dependence can be pleasant."
A stark, craggy-faced ghost appears. "Yes, mistress?" it says in a raspy voice.
Bride waves vaguely. "Please, bring my dear guest whatever his heart may desire."
Crimson Dawn simply shakes his head slightly at the ghost, and then stands up, nodding at the Bride. "Very well. I'll return to my lord's domain to begin finding potential chefs and the like, as well as to get some idea of his requirements. My lord also instructed me to leave a token of his regards." And, with that, he casually reaches underneath his cloak, pulling a simple, featureless bottle of black glass from underneath, and calmly hands it to the Bride's servant. "It's a...recent product some of my lord's other servants have begun to create. I'm told it adds a rather unique flavor to foods." It also may or may not be poisoned, depending on how its served and to whom!
And, with that, Crimson Dawn bows slightly, then turns and strides out, barely making any noise as his cloak's hood slithers back up and hides his features once more, the tall Exalt moving down the stairs and outwards, heading away from the manse and back towards the Gates for a speedy trip homewards.
The Bride takes the bottle and nods her head; "Thank you," she says, with obvious interest, setting the bottle aside for now. She wonders just what is within it: is it anise-seed? Wormwood? Something else entirely? Wine is well enough for the basics, "I will be in touch, soon."
The way out, naturally, is not barred. It's usually easier to leave these kinds of places than get in!
WHERE: Bayou of Endless Regret, Creation
WHEN: December 15th, 2006.
WHAT: Crimson Dawn, on a Most Important Quest from the Silver Prince, is off to attempt to bargain...for better food for Skullstone. Since, well, their food sucks.
GateMUSH - Friday, December 15, 2006, 7:48 PM
---------------------------------------------
Gratification's Array
The question of the foot traffic is promptly answered once the city is entered. There are no roads, although there are foot bridges near sea level, and sky bridges of gray-planked wood with iron railings over the dank canals, whose rich and faintly corrupt scent forms the underbelly of the humid city.
The smell of a dozen forms of smoke curl through the streets together with rich scents of cooking, in contrast to the usual bland or rotting scents of the Underworld. The ripeness of decay is never far, but it is covered, or at least masked, by the wide assortment of fragrances emanating from kitchens and cookhouses.
The shuttered and dank establishments and hostelries are bustling, if often strangely quiet where music is not playing. Music can be heard in virtually any part of the town, if only at a faint distance, usually the grimmer and more morbid melodies favored by the dead, but very occasionally featuring a "live" band or performer. The popular ones, of course, never leave.
The Radiant Epicure of Time's Delights dwells in a palatial abode in the center of the city, surrounded by smaller, refined townhomes for those whom he favors.
Contents:
Unsleeping Bride
The Unsleeping Bride's townhouse is rather average, really, by Gratification's Array's standards; but then, average here means that it is three stories tall and could be called a reasonable mansion in many of the cities of Creation. It is made of dark wood, with many large windows along the third story underneath tilted eaves to keep the periodic drizzle off.
The door is imposing, standing as it does atop four heavy stone steps, with a black iron knocker in the shape of a twisted wedding robe before it. A nearby window makes the knocker, perhaps, a matter of formality; a ghost with half its face twisted and a half-dozen suits of heavy linen worn at once is sitting right inside, watching any who might approach.
Hmmmmm. Yes, well, I /suppose/ that one could call it a /DECENT/ little house. I mean, for a house in the middle of a swamp. Still, Crimson Dawn's out on a mission. A mission in which he MUST SUCCEED! I mean, after all...
Let's be honest here. The food in Onyx? Not that great. I mean, it's good ENOUGH...And some of it is downright delicious, especially for those with the money to afford to bring it in and the like...but the fact is, Onyx is a bit isolated, so new or redundant sources of foodstuffs are always useful!
And that is what has brought this Abyssal a hunting.
After all, if one needs food and preparation of such for a good number of people, one might as well talk to an expert!
The window is leaned through by the ghostly butler - it seems to be open, at least on this level, though the ones up higher have the gleam of glass. "Greetings," he (from the voice, anyway) says, mouth slightly twisting the words. "Are you expected by the mistress? She is in repose, and has not informed me of expected guests." His tone is quite respectful, at least.
There is a rich smell of SOMETHING from within; something sweet.
The visiting deathknight just tuuuuurns slightly, eyeing the butler, and raises an eyebrow slightly. "...I see. I am here on business. Do let her know that Crimson Dawn is here on a matter that I have been told she has some expertise with." The best thing about being an Abyssal is that ability (Some of them get it as an inherent skill!) of adding '...Or I'm Going To Rip Your Soul In Half If You Don't Do What I say!' as an unspoken threat!
The butler watches for a long moment. The name requires some interpretation; however, the smell of living blood, however hidden, is clear enough. "Of course, my lord," he says with a deep bow of the head, stepping over to open the heavy, creaking doorway.
He kneels, with the difficulty that comes from a disfigured leg. "The mistress is in her parlor, atop the landing. Shall you prefer to be announced?" He extends a hand to indicate a spiralling staircase that leads up a slightly crooked atrium towards the next two stories.
There is some rustling and clattering from somewhere in the back of the house, perhaps the kitchen.
The Abyssal strides in through the door, glancing down at the butler, and shakes his head, striding past the crippled ghost towards the stairs. "No need. I'll announce myself." And, with that, the Abyssal, well, climbs the stairs. I mean, really, not EVERYTHING is totally awesome in Exalted (Just most of it). At the top of the stairs, he stops at the entrance to the aforementioned landing and knocks precisely, then announces himself. Sigh. He really hates this part. It's so...unneccasary.
"I am the Bringer of Darkness in the Crimson Dawn, here on business from the Bodhisattva Annointed by Dark Water."
Grumble. All the power and stuff is nice, but sheesh, names, such long names!
There is a languid reply from within the parlor. "I am certain you know who I am; please, enter freely, and of your own will." The door is one of those folding/sliding numbers, and moves easily.
Bride is reclining on a couch of dark leather, holding a pipe easily in one hand as her elbow rests against a rise of the side of the furniture. She is, of course, dressed casually, and she uses her free hand to gesture at a couch across from her. "Please, my dear guest, take your ease. You may remove the cloak if you wish, and I am sure you are weary from your journey; did you make use of the Gates?"
...Well, she isn't THAT likely to try to assassinate him. Probably. Maybe. Asides, he's here on business! As such...Crimson does pull the cloak down, at least, revealing his face, and sits down on the offered couch, nodding calmly at the Bride.
"I'm fine. The journey wasn't particularly hard, especially with the ease these gates offered. As for why I'm here, well, I suppose you can guess, hmm? My lord is expecting to need to entertain a number of guests in the future, and has instructed me to procure your services in ensuring that they can be properly victualed in a manner befitting his status. Specifically, in food and chefs fit for the living and honored dead."
Small Talk is for OTHER Exalted! Or after business is concluded. Whatever!
Bride presses the stem of the pipe to her lips as she listens, breathing in and then exhaling slowly as she considers. "I -see-," she says, after a few moments, glancing towards the tall Exalt out of the side of her eyes. "Mine personally? I am very honored... your lord is quite generous. I shall of course have to speak with mine own, but he is also generous, and my tasks now are at, mm, my discretion."
She half-turns to let her legs curl up, rolling onto her sides. "How many, then? What taboos do they observe? Will this be with your local cuisines?" She also reaches over to jingle a small bell that is nearly silent with a fingertip.
JUST as she does it, there is a sepulchural 'TONG' downstairs.
Unsleeping Bride has partially disconnected.
Crimson Dawn smiles pleasantly. "Ah. The numbers, their dining habits, and what sort of food? Hmmm. Well, that is the thing, you see." The Abssal smiles quite pleasantly.
"I have no idea. My lord is attempting to plan ahead for when he inevitably ends up hosting some visitors from afar, after all. I suppose, to be more precise, that this isn't planning for a current group of guests. There aren't many guests at this moment, and we can certainly provide for what we have at the moment, but my lord wishes to set up the potential for taking care of a large number of guests in style, should the need arise, as well as to provide some variety. Delicacies from all over, that sort of thing."
The Bride uncrosses, then recrosses her legs as she looks thoughtful. "Oh, I -see-," she says with another draw on the pipe. "Mm. Well, that is a bit of a larger project... we shall have, of course, to train some of your own residents, so that you will not have to rely on us forever." She smiles wanly. "Unless you wish to, of course; I am told that mutual dependence can be pleasant."
A stark, craggy-faced ghost appears. "Yes, mistress?" it says in a raspy voice.
Bride waves vaguely. "Please, bring my dear guest whatever his heart may desire."
Crimson Dawn simply shakes his head slightly at the ghost, and then stands up, nodding at the Bride. "Very well. I'll return to my lord's domain to begin finding potential chefs and the like, as well as to get some idea of his requirements. My lord also instructed me to leave a token of his regards." And, with that, he casually reaches underneath his cloak, pulling a simple, featureless bottle of black glass from underneath, and calmly hands it to the Bride's servant. "It's a...recent product some of my lord's other servants have begun to create. I'm told it adds a rather unique flavor to foods." It also may or may not be poisoned, depending on how its served and to whom!
And, with that, Crimson Dawn bows slightly, then turns and strides out, barely making any noise as his cloak's hood slithers back up and hides his features once more, the tall Exalt moving down the stairs and outwards, heading away from the manse and back towards the Gates for a speedy trip homewards.
The Bride takes the bottle and nods her head; "Thank you," she says, with obvious interest, setting the bottle aside for now. She wonders just what is within it: is it anise-seed? Wormwood? Something else entirely? Wine is well enough for the basics, "I will be in touch, soon."
The way out, naturally, is not barred. It's usually easier to leave these kinds of places than get in!