[IC] Dr. Cottle meets a wizard.

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A very fine knife (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=273708)

Dr. Henry Cottle was in his dressing gown and slippers when a woman fell into his bed. It was not a graceful fall. She hit the down mattress with a decisive thud, sending small feathers everywhere. Despite the fact that the top of the bed canopy was only a few feet from the floor, the force was considerable. Then again, Dr. Cottle could not imagine that she was hiding in his bedroom all this time. He had been reviewing a colleague's autopsy and was trying to make sense of a set of mysterious electrical burn marks for the last four or five hours. How on earth did this woman get inside his room?

She stood up immediately and threw off the doctor's sheets. He was sitting at his desk, surrounded by medical texts, photographs and the coroner's documents, and Dr. Cottle had his medical kit nearby as well. His tools were in there...

Presently she stands. She appears to be about fifty years old, but well preserved and strikingly beautiful and elegant. Her grey hair is wispy and her eyes a steely ice blue. She is dressed in some kind of period costume
A surprisingly accurate costume. This outfit would have been worn by a mercantile lady of good standing. Specifically an educated woman. This style is plain and austere, but the baby blue dyes are vibrant and the lace work is very intricate. Dr. Cottle isn't sure where you would get anything so detailed and unique these days. Hand woven lace is a lost art! If he had to guess, he would say the dress is a professional styled replica reminiscent of the 14th century.
and wears an occult symbol of some kind on a chain around her neck.
The Goddess's holy symbol was changed to a golden finch in the 17th century after the reformation. Nobody wears the omega character anymore, and the popular perception is that the finch was always the Goddess' symbol.


Hullo... my name is Esther Devrie she offers with an embarrassed smile. Do you mind if I look around your home for a bit?


She may be acting confident, and even glib, but she's obviously frightened. This is not a home invasion.

[darklink_shadow]

What-in-the-nine... !! Cottle exclaimed at the thunk behind him. He turned quickly despite his age, right hand raised at chest level to fend off the source of the noise, left hand reaching behind him to grab a scalpel out of his tool box.

Upon seeing the woman, he calmed, lowering his posture. Upon actually seeing the woman he tensed again. Hrrm. Hello Miss Devrie. I'm Dr. Henry Sherman Cottle, a medical surgeon around here. I can tell you're not from this side of town, if not from further than this town. You've come at a rather unexpected hour, I'm afraid; I wasn't expecting any guests. He frowns at her, eyes quickly appraising her, before his face relaxed, deciding that she either wasn't dangerous or far too dangerous to bother trying to stop. No matter how beautiful or out of thin air things might appear.

Moving his right hand up to tug at a shortly trimmed beard, he took a side step towards the door before sighing with a shrug. Bah, fine! He started harshly. I wasn't getting any damn closer staring at that shoddily written report anyways, and the tea doesn't take too long to brew. You look like an earl grey sort of lady, and I'm afraid I haven't much else anyways, so that's what you're going to get. He gripped the door with his free hand, twisting the nob, but not opening it. Try to relax a bit, you're not in any danger here. Or at least you damn better not be, because it's far too late at night for some kind of scuffle. And I'm already in my pajamas. I've biscuits too, I think... or did those go bad?

He pushed on the door, and when it didn't budge he pushed with clear physical strain. Damn thing always gets stuck since it got repainted. He muttered to himself, as if explaining it to a friend he hadn't seen in a while. Kid I stitched up's father repainted half the house as payment. Looks real pretty, I s'pose. But I miss my working bedroom door. Cottle chuckled wryly, clearly more annoyed than amused.

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Tea? Esther perks up Yes, that would be lovely. She watches him leave to get the tea and biscuits. Dr. Cottle is no fool. He can tell that this woman is more scared of him than he is of her. She also appears to be just as startled to find herself in his bed chambers.

Dr. Cottle's iron furnace has an element installed on it for just such an occasion, and it wasn't long ago that he threw another scuttle of coal on the fire. The stove is already warm; he just needs to move the pot down to the element and wait. There was a chance that the mystery woman is robbing him blind or preparing an ambush, but Dr. Cottle felt strongly that this home invasion was more unique and less threatening that the common burglary.

He returns with tea, but the biscuits had indeed turned. "Esther" is hunkered over one of his maps on the floor. She has opened a few of his books and laid out the autopsy report as well. Ether holds a finger up for Dr. Cottle to wait, as if he were intruding on her work. You have a fault in your ceiling she tells him. Was it there before? Before she fell into his bed? It was hardly the strangest feature of the room. He looks. The ceiling does have a crack in it that Dr. Cottle can't remember. Only, it isn't a crack. It looks more like a jagged wound in the house... or maybe Henry just spends too much time performing surgery.

This is a big hospital? You are a doctoure of physik, are you not?

I am, but this is not a hospital. This is my private residence! He corrects her.

It's enormous! She exclaims. What concerns him more? That she appears to have explored the house while he was making tea? Or that she did it so quickly and without him noticing? It wasn't a "natural electrical current running up from the copper plating of the plumbing" that killed this Timothy Alberts fellow. It was a dragon spawn. Okay... now this woman is officially loopy. A natural electrical current as described in your books would require a great deal of friction, given that there were no clouds in the greater downtown region the night in question. Your municipality has banned generators and conductive wiring from the lower bay area where the body was found. This Dr. Duncan who writes to you here pointing at his letter of query suggests the deceased was holding the copper faucet with his left hand and grounded in the pool of water. But this ignores the fact that the plumbing is lead after only four feet of copper. And look! This wooden block in the picture of the dead man here. (Marvelous drawing incidentally. It looks like real life.) He was a short man and presumably would have used the block to reach this "faucet". You see? It was to be a dragon.

Aside from the jump in logic at the end of this woman's findings, Dr. Cottle had the same concerns. He also noted that there was no exit burn on the body. The electrical current, in his view, was more likely a single bolt or charge that blasted the poor man, and not one that ran through him as a circuit.

I'll help you find your killer, if your rent a room in your palace to me. Mmm?

[darklink_shadow]

Cottle chuckled at her enthusiasm, then set down the plate. Look lady, he coughs I mean, my dear lady, he said, attempting to be polite to this stranger.

I seriously doubt it was a dragon of any sorts. Where would a dragon have come from? I suppose it would be unwise to reject the idea, and yours makes marginally more sense than the documented cause, since the documented cause is impossible and yours is only next to impossible. But either way, it isn't exactly my job to run around giving vigilante justice to dragons or pipes. But you can definitely stay here for now. I don't exactly have a spare bed though...

Cottle's desire to be chivalrous, his desire to not sleep on his lumpy coach and his desire to not suggest they share a bed all battled with each other for a while, until he exhaled with annoyance. Damn good timing though, had you fallen thirty minutes you'd have crushed my bones, and I'd be in a pretty damn sour state. So I suppose I should be thankful and let you use the bed. If you are still here in the morning, we can discuss looking into this Cottle chuckles as he says the next word dragon If not, I'm going to assume I fell asleep earlier, and this is all a very strange dream. Either way, here, he set down the plate of food, and the pot of tea. Now that I am all awake though, why do you tell me how you came about falling into my house from apparently nowhere. If I don't ask now and this turns out to have been a dream, I'll be kicking myself.

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I couldn't possibly sleep right now! she exclaims. And you'll forgive me, but my story is too unlikely and fantastic to be believed. If you can't accept the possibility that you have a homicidal dragon spawn on the loose in you city, then you're not ready to hear how I came to be in your bed. I'll have to show you. She leads Dr. Cottle by the hand to the map of Millwoods, the small city in which Dr. Cottle resides.

Look here! she says what we're looking for is a hot dry and sheltered place in the city. Possibly underground. This man, your victim, lived and worked by the docks in the bay. He's a labourer and no one of consequence... sorry that was insensitive. I mean to say, he is not a man of influence. The creature I am thinking of can disguise itself to live among humans. This poor gentleman likely accidentally discovered his identity and killed him. It will be someone he knows. It will be nearby.

If you let me stay here I will help you find your murderer. If we find the murderer and I am right, and it is a dragon, then I will tell you my story. She hesitates, seeing the doubt on his face she says, because until then you're going to believe I am a lunatic.

[darklink_shadow]

It's the middle of the night my dear, it's no time for going out and seeing the town. Cottle looked her in the face for a while, then seeing the resolve in her eyes shook his head with a sigh. Damn it woman.

What? Came a clearly worried reply.

Let me change into normal clothes and then we can head out. Cottle grumbled as he walked into his closet, and closed the door. Cold as a witch's teat out there, though, so I best grab you a jacket. He said from inside his closet, as he dressed.

Upon completing a wardrobe change, he exited the cramped space and tossed her a long furred coat. I'm widowed, so I have a few things around here for women, though you're a bit shorter than she was. Anyways, let's go and wander the slums until you give up, admit there not dragons and tell me your story anyways, or until you make me a goddamn believer in some kind of crazy crap by actually finding a dragon.

Moving past her, he grabbed a few things off his desk and put a heavy metal glove in his pocket. If Esther should examine the coat, it is clearly made by technology that her day and age did not possess.

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Esther eyes the coat silently. There were a few curiosities that were far beyond her time in this house. She rummages through the good doctor's closet for something more suitable to wear. The process takes nearly an hour. It would hard for Dr. Cottle to tell if Ether was taking so long because she was lost in the plethora of fashionable outing wear, or if this could be chalked up to the ordinary habits of women. In truth, this was the abridged version, and it was a little of both.

Esther holds up a pink feather fascinator. What in heavens name is this thing for? Is it a trophy?

It says something that Dr. Cottle has kept all of his wife's old clothes, so many years later. He remembers when she bought that feathered thing. She called it a "sale", even though it cost him more than article of clothing the Doctor ever owned. The feathers, she explained, came from the large land birds in the southern continents. They were "all the rage". His wife used to be so beautiful...

Esther emerges from the drawing room wearing a sensible business dress, a petty coat, and the pink fascinator. She stands at the door tapping her foot. Are you ready? He was in the midst of finishing his smoke. Honestly, you had the whole hour to smoke, Cottle. Tis a vice anyhow. Follow me! I know just where to begin.

He follows her through alleyways and central park, as if this were her city. She did really seem to know where she was going though. When they reach Cognac Road, a quaint cobblestone path lined with specialty shops leading down to the docks, she pauses. One moment. she requests. Her eyes roll back in her head and a light blue aura surrouds her eyes. This way. she says definitively. The new shimmering blue light from her eyes is extraordinary.


[roll0] DC ?
[roll1] DC 16
The spell is detect magic. Dr. Cottle has some fascination in the occult perhaps? Or maybe he isn't as big of a skeptic as I've assumed. I'll follow your lead.


Cognac Road is steep, and even though Esther chose practical walking shoes, she trips. Dr. Cottle catches her before she takes a nasty spill, and he is again taken back to memories of his wife. The touch is familiar, and it has been so very very long. But when she meets him eye to eye he is snapped back to the present. Her eyes still have that unreal blue aura to them, and his wife obviously never had that trait.

They arrive at a consignment store specializing in fabrics from the far east. By now the sun has risen and people are opening for business. Dr. Cottle and Esther arrive just in time; the little old man that owns this shop has just opened his door. Can I... help you friend? he says. His tattoos indicate that he is a Sulu - a religious sect that believes the Goddess will lose in the final battle.

This man she pulls him aside and whispers in Dr. Cottle's ear is not a man. She alleviates some of his concern that Esther is bigoted when she says He is dragon spawn. Of course, there is still the concern that she is completely bonkers. Should I cast a spell on him so that he'll give up him master? Or would you care to satisfy yourself as to his true form? He'll deny it, of course, but if you trick him or taunt him, he may reveal himself behind closed doors.

Oh Dr. Cottle, what have you gotten yourself into?

[darklink_shadow]

The House

Woman, this is my goddamned house and I'll smoke in any or all the rooms as I see fit. He took a long drag of his cigar before exhaling it through the corner of his mouth. Besides, I can only smoke in the room I am standing, or else I'd always smoking in my neigher's house while laying in bed. A man needs his vice, whatever it is, especially when he has to sew together little children, and cut up dead teenagers all damn day. So just hush about my smoking, or we'll not have much else to talk about.

It was clear his smoking had been an issue frequently brought up before by someone. And it was clear he wasn't willing to budge on that stance. Besides, it was you taking so damn long that made me need it, anyways. Did you ever stop to think wasting an hour of your host's time to play dress up might also be a vice? He took a cigar cutter and cut the burning tip of the cigar off and caught it in his hand before dropping it in an empty glass cup that had earlier held scotch.

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The Streets

Following a half-mad woman through the streets was one thing, but realizing she was manipulating the flow of magical energy was another. A witch, huh? That explains the apparant insanity. At least any I didn't chalk up to her just being a woman. He lights the other 3/4th of his cigar and follows her quietly.

Cottle gives Esther a sidelong glance and then walks up to the man. You new at the whole selling **** game, or just new to having someone waiting for you to open? This is the fabric shop, innit? The doctor barks with aggrivation, annoyed that the witch appeared to have actually found something, but pretending to be annoyed by the man's confusion. You gonna open shop, or do I get to finish my cigar while my lady here whines about the cold some more?

Cottle growled a bit and inhaled deeply, allowing a full quarter of the cigar to burn all at once. He held the smoke for a few moments then exhaled it out of the side of his mouth so it went up towards the dim light of dawn. I'm just fine being convinced to spend my coin elsewhere. I'm not the one who wanted to be here at the goddamn crack of dawn. I'd have been happier buying something useful, like a paperweight. Or a stuffed cat. Or a goddamn match to burn up the rest of my hard earned money. Implying that Esther was going to spend his money on fabric, which was a total waste in Cottle's angry mind.

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Bluff v Sense Motive checks (and some others) made in private. It should be noted that I do not make Bluff checks for individual lies. This tends to give the PCs more opportunities to fail. Rather I do one check for the whole conversation.

The Sulu man waves cigar smoke away from his face. Dr. Cottle is well into his personal space and playing the abrupt bullish customer very well. The part must come naturally to him. Yessss... Of course Sir. We have many fine fabrics. Come in, but please, extinguish your cigar first. The merchant's droll reaction to customers is so plain that Dr. Cottle wonders if he's ever sold a yard of fabric in his life. Hardly the enthusiastic pandering that he was used to seeing on Cognac Road.

They enter the shop. Everything is perfectly stacked and pristine. Not a chip of fabric lying about. Not a single loose thread on the carpet. Yet he has a manikin dressed in last decade's clothing and he holds himself out as a tailor and textile merchant. "Fine's Fabrics and Cotoure" the sign reads. Dr. Cottle has his doubts. The bolts of fabric are loud busy foreign looking patterns. They wouldn't appeal to most people in Millwoods.

Also, the air smells faintly of ozone.

Do you see anything you like? If not, I have much work to do, so...

[darklink_shadow]

I see a lot of crap I don't like, but I'm not here to buy. I'm here to be the walking wallet. Yech, what is this crap? Who would wear any of this garbage? Cottle walked into the shop, and tapped his cigar lightly, letting the ashes fall on the floor. He placed the cigar back in his mouth and touched the fabric roughly, then make a face at it. It's not even soft. You sure you're a tailor? Or is this a store for animals? Where are your fine clothes? And your delicate silks? And for the Goddess' sake, do you have a pattern that doesn't look like a horse vomited? I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were a half blind chameleon stitching crap with one eye out into space and the other admiring the floor. Darling, do you really want to shop here?

I hope that's enough of a taunt to get him furious enough to attack. And if he is a real merchant, I am being a total ass. Bah, whatever, these clothes are hideous, and I would never shop here.

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Why you insolent mule! Shouts the Merchant. I should KILL you for your lack of respect! GET OUT OF MY SHOP! Instead of turning red and popping a few veins like an ordinary man, the "Merchant's" skin shimmers for a brief moment and Dr. Cottle is sure he catches the flash of reptilian scales. Fascinating.

[darklink_shadow]

Well, I'll be a damned rabbit's aunt. You were right. Dr. Cottle rubs his forehead in a mix of annoyance and amazement. Well, I guess I owe you one, my lady. Help me bring in some evidence?

Cottle adjusted the gauntlet covering his right fist, then spun to face his enemy. Lizardling, surrender now, and you might get a trial. I'm really not in a mood to have to deal with the nonsense of presenting evidence that is clear and obvious to a jury of idiots too dim to understand the basics of what I am explaining. So, if it comes to blows, I'm going to rip enough of your scales off to prove that you are a monster, and avoid the bullsh*t of a courtroom.

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In an instant, the slight wiry merchant with the scrolling exotic tattoos becomes a bright cobalt blue lizard. No, more than a lizard. A dragon! A small one to be sure, but a true, scales and tails blue dragon. It is about nine feet in length, but stands the height of a man. Wild gnarly horns protrude from his crown. He has a think indigo mane running down his spine and six inch talons that click against the hardwood floor.

The curtains fall down to cover the windows of their own volition. The candles on the walls light themselves.

His smooth black forked tongue darts out of his mouth as he speaks. Fool! I will consume you and bring your bones to mother...

Initiative
Dragon [roll0]
Esther [roll1]
Dr Cottle [roll2]

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Strike true Doctor! Esther whispers in Dr. Cottle's ear. Her hand graces Dr. Cottle's cheek and a shiver runs down his spine. He feels confident, like he can hit anything. He has read about wizards that have the power of true strike in children's fairy tales.


Line of electricity, hits both. DC 14 Reflex for half.
Esther Reflex [roll0]
Dr. Cottle Reflex [roll1]
Elec Damage [roll2]


But before he can advance, a bright white light envelops him. The air crackles around them. He finds himself under a toppled pile of singed gaudy fabric next to Esther. They pick themselves up in an instant while their enemy wriggles around a support beam only ten feet away. Apparently the creature thinks he's won already. His victory dance is cut short when he sees Dr. Cottle and Esther standing, alive, and ready to attack.

[darklink_shadow]

Cottle pauses only long enough to swear and mumble. Damned overgrown lizard. Singing my clothes. Bastard's gonna get what for.

And then with the effort and rigor of a man half his age, he leaps toward the scaled beast, thrusting an angry fist straight at vital parts of a lizard, as far as he understands them to be.


Move: Move adjacent.
Standard: Punch a Lizard.
[roll0] To hit
[roll1] damage Piercing + [2] precision

[darklink_shadow]

Forgot to apply poison as a swift action!

Fort DC 14 or [roll0] con damage