The Theatre of Masks

[Fenric]

This is a large-ish building on an overgrown lot. Seven years of untended plants make the overall shape of the place somewhat ambiguous, but the doorway is large enough to be recognizable: a pair of old-fashioned theatrical masks grin out under the letters carved into the stone:

The Theatre of Masks

It's a modest theatre, probably capable of seating a hundred or so guests. The grounds are a little more extensive than first glance would seem to require, but on closer examination there are the remains of wooden outbuildings burned and ruined among the overgrowth that hint at a more sizeable complex once upon a time than now exists.

It's at the edge of the old Slums district, walled off and locked with "no trespassing" signs in several different languages posted. It's not the safest part of town, but it's not that bad if you don't draw too much attention.

[Artemis97]

On one of his wandering walks through the Slums, Raril comes across the abandoned building. The bard was intrigued, first because he couldn't recall seeing this place here before (but that was the nature of the Nexus) and secondly because it was a theater. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in a proper theater. Also, the warning sign to keep out was just a dare to the drow. Too curious to help himself, he just had to do a little exploring.

If no easy means of entry presents itself, Raril will climb over the wall, using a little levitation to aid himself if needed. Once on the other side, he pauses for a moment to admire the old masks, before looking for a way into the building proper. He'll test the front door first, to see if it was even locked, or if it might be able to be picked.

[Fenric]

(( Oooh... A wild Raril has appeared! You'll be sucked into a plot if you lurk around here too long. ))

The chain on the exterior door is pretty sturdy, so up and over is probably easiest. At the building, the main door is not locked. The foyer is filled with dust and debris, but there are signs that someone is here fairly often due to the cleared path to the door marked "Office".

[Deathkeeper]

Mist arrives with a certain young cleric. He's gotten himself outfitted with a dark-colored duster, not too thick but well-covering. Mist likes long coats; you can hide so much in them.
he'll slowly approach the place, doing his best to remain cognizant as he goes to the front door. With any luck it won't be locked.

[Fenric]

The outer gate is chained with a sturdy chain and pad-locked. The wall is wood, but fairly sturdy and not easy to climb.

[Artemis97]

Well, that was certainly curious. Was someone living here? Maybe someone owned the place. They sure weren't taking care of it, though.

With a shrug, Raril followed the cleared path to the office door and went to knock. At worst, the drow figured, he'd be asked to leave, but maybe the person here might consider selling?

[Ionbound]

Helen sighs when she sees the lock and says to Mist, "Can you pick it? I have a spell that would bust it, but I was hoping to save that...It would mess up that construct if we ran into it."

[Fenric]

[Outside]

The chain/lock combo is probably going to be easier to pick than to break, being decently-impressive looking steel. Frankly, it's probably not tempered to the point that Shatter would even work.

[Inside]

The door is opened by a young man, perhaps 25, with raven dark hair and distinctly Norwegian features. He looks Raril over with an arched eyebrow.

Welcome to the Theatre of Masks. I'm sorry, but we're not open quite yet.

[Artemis97]

[Inside]

The drow leans in the doorway and gives the young man an odd look. "Quite yet? You don't look ready for any type of performance any time soon. You're going to have to do some major refurbishment." Raril notes, looking around.

[Deathkeeper]

Outside

Mist nods and goes over to the lock with the picks he hid in his collar. He's proficient with them, but no master. Hopefully the tumblers are simple enough for him.

[Ionbound]

[Outside]

Helen keeps a lookout, hiding two of the silver, enchanted daggers in the sleeves of her robes.

[Fenric]

[Outside]

The lock is sturdy, but not actually all that challenging - Mist gets a satisfying "click" in reasonably short order.

[Inside]

The man looks nonplussed

I discovered it to be in a worse state of repair than I expected it to be, and arrangements have taken longer than I expected as the contacts I was given when I inherited the facility do not appear to be available anymore. But most of this is clutter, and will be gone within hours of work starting. The building itself is structurally intact, which is what matters.

So, I must ask: what brings you here?

[Deathkeeper]

Outside

Mist 'smiles' and re-inserts his picks into their hiding spot as he sets off towards the front door. His ears will prick up at the sound of talking unless the front door is soundproof, which will result in him silently signaling to Helen and moving towards the door/window to peek in rather then waltzing in.

[Artemis97]

[Inside]

"Curiosity, mostly." Raril admits. "I used to be an actor, you see. I still play music, too. I was hoping to find something out about this place. If it was really abandoned or not, and if so, maybe renovating it myself." He pushes himself up off the doorframe and extends a hand. "I'm Raril, by the way. I run the Black Dragon's Den, these days."

[Razanir]

Outside

A man in a billowing cloak steps out of the mist. No one knows quite who he is. He's played so many roles during his life as a bard, that he's forgotten his own name. Now all just know him as The Bard. He's retired now, and instead roams the world searching for old tales to bring back to the world.

He discovered the Theatre of Masks on an old map one day, and decided to visit. He saunters in through the front door and begins searching for a costume closet, expecting to find scraps of old scripts, and maybe a haunt or two.

[Fenric]

[Outside]

The door is not even remotely soundproof

[Inside]

The man looks surprised, then shakes Raril's hand

Thorvard Bersain, from Rimeholdt, but my friends call me Thor. And that explains one of my missing contacts - I was told the proprietor of the Black Dragon's Den was a goblin named Daggernose.

And I certainly am looking for talent, I just didn't want to bring people in before at least some of the work could begin.

[Ionbound]

[Outside]

Helen nods to Mist and peers in one of the windows, trying to take a look at what's inside.

((Raz, is it okay if we assume two timelines?))

[Razanir]

((Raz, is it okay if we assume two timelines?))

((Sure, although couldn't there also be multiple entrances? Or even just not noticing each other. This is the Nexus, after all))

[Artemis97]

"Well met." Raril grins and chuckles. "Daggernose is still around, he just works for me. I can see why folks might think he runs the place. I haven't been around recently. Any other contacts you're looking for? I might know a thing or two." He doesn't press the issue of performing. That could wait for another time.

[Fenric]

[Inside]

Thorvard chuckles

Well, that's something, at any rate. There were a couple of old associates who I have already found the disposition of and there's no further point. Someone named Trog was supposed to know the construction business around due to the frequent repairs his business required? Also, some temple or other that my uncle once did business with Inari? I just haven't had time to look them up.

[Someone Poking Around]

The last production was clearly about to be MacBeth, before something interrupted it. Something fairly abrupt by the looks of the place.

[Deathkeeper]

Mist's ears perk. Well, he can work with that. He'll stand up and go over to the door, rapping lightly on it to announce his presence.
"Pardon the intrusion sir, but it seems through a little coincidence they're saving you the trip." he says with what would count as a goofy smile if he had lips. Hopefully Helen can do a better job of formalities.

[Razanir]

Poking Around

Ah, the Scottish Play. Over the years, The Bard has seen it performed- and been in it- many times. So many, and from so long ago, in fact, that he's played every part- even the women's. He finds a bloodied sword, and identifies it as actual blood, although he can't tell the species. He grabs it before continuing on, in case whoever it was is still around.

[Ionbound]

Helen nods and bows to Thorvard and says, "Greeting. I am Helen Avery, a priestess of Inari Tamamo. Um...Do you know anything about an entrance to some catacombs beneath your theater, sir?"

[Artemis97]

[Inside]

"Trog's is still standing, my wife works over there sometimes, but I don't know how often its namesake shows up anymore. As for Inari's... It's been a while since I've seen it operational, but it's one of those places that comes back when it's needed. I'm sure if you poke around there you'll find someone to help you. And I can recommend some construction workers. The Den has similar issues as Trog's, and I don't have myself a fancy button, either."

Raril turns and looks at the two who have come to the door. Hearing the name of Inari he mumbles "Speak of the... Goddess..." And what was that about catacombs? The drow's pointed ears twitched with excitement.

[Fenric]

[Someone Poking Around]

The building isn't all THAT big, and it's pretty echo-y now: there's no way The Bard doesn't hear the conversation at the front door.

[Inside]

Thorvard nods

Thank you so much! That would be most helpful.

Thorvard blinks as his guest count suddenly triples

Well... hello, there. And ah, the Temple. Well, my great-uncle Renrik did some work for them several times, and I was hoping that perhaps your leader, Fenrik?, would be able to help me out.

As far as catacombs... I have heard that my uncle had access to a tunnel that lead to the Black Dragon's Den and went through the main Goblin home area here. He was a great social activist and worked tirelessly for the rights of the people less well accepted by society. It's certainly possible that those tunnels go elsewhere - I've not found the entrance yet, myself. More for lack of looking, in all honesty.

[Deathkeeper]

Mist shakes his head. "Fenric's not with us any more, but I'm sure that Helen can introduce you to the new head of the temple once we're done. In the meantime, would you let us look around? We badly need to find that tunnel entrance."

[Razanir]

Poking Around

While digging around, The Bard finds an old weathered door. He mutters to himself, "This must be the catacombs they're talking about upstairs..." He prepares for a journey by grabbing assorted clothes. Dresses, suits, military uniforms. Anything that looks like it'd fit him, and then some. You never know when you'll need a good disguise. He polishes off his "borrowed" collection with some cosmetics and wigs, then enters a dressing room to prepare for his entrance...

Inside

A ghostly little girl enters the room, seemingly out of nowhere. (( the others don't know this, but it's The Bard )) "Excuthe me," she says sweetly, "I think I know where the cat-tombth you're talking about are."

[Ionbound]

Helen nods, and says, "There's something in the catacombs...We have friends at the Temple distracting it's guardian, but we need to hurry before they get hurt. Will you please help us?"

[Fenric]

(( Ok. Couple things...

It's not a hole in the wall, it's a door in the basement. If you're going to jump into an ongoing plot, it is polite to find out a little more about what's going on before making statements.

There are 5 other people playing in this plot: you need to wait your turn - you really can't assume that we are all going to go along. ))

[Razanir]

(( Ok. Couple things...

It's not a hole in the wall, it's a door in the basement. If you're going to jump into an ongoing plot, it is polite to find out a little more about what's going on before making statements.

There are 5 other people playing in this plot: you need to wait your turn - you really can't assume that we are all going to go along. ))

(( Ah, sorry about that. To be honest, I wasn't quite aware that it was an on-going plot. I don't come around to this part of the forum that much. I'll redact the reply where I lead people down. ))

[Fenric]

(( No trouble at all, and welcome to the fun: you're in for a "wild" ride :smallbiggrin: ))

[Artemis97]

[Inside]

Raril's expression falls. "Fenric's... gone? As in... dead?" The drow's shoulders droop, and he makes a somewhat canine sounding whine of sadness. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, when he opened them his expression was neutral. "I'll help the temple however I can." He offers, his voice serious.

[Fenric]

Thorvard nods to Helen

Considering tunnels tend to be underground, I'd start looking in the cellar. As far as I know, I have keys to every door in the building: so it shouldn't take that long.

Thorvard looks at Raril and Mist, but having never met Fenric, and so isn't quite so moved.

Dead? Damn. But thank you for your offer of introduction, I'm sure that will...

He trails off, seeing the ghost

Nobody mentioned the place was haunted.

- - - Updated - - -

(( I want to explain a few ground rules:

There is a plot going on. It is open, but I'm not going to delay important scenes. I will try to give warning, but if you can't reply you will be skipped. Please feel free to add flavor, but please also do check with me for anything that seems like it might affect the main storyline.

If you don't want to interact with the plot, but like the theatre, then just avoid the group - they won't be here that much longer anyway. ))

[Deathkeeper]

[Inside]

Mist nods, glad things are working out.
"Well, uh, might as well get on with that searching, I guess." he says, rubbing his furry hands together. He wonders what's up with the elven fellow. His smell, and that whine, do usually point to one thing more than others. Yeesh, just keep your instincts in check, Mist.

[Ionbound]

Helen tilts her head at Raril's whine, but says nothing but, "Indeed. The sooner we find this thing, the better. Thorvard, you said that you didn't know where it was...You have an idea?" She then turns to the ghost and says, "Or you?"

[Razanir]

"There'th a thwange door downtairth." (( I'm going to stop writing the speech impediment, but she still has trouble with some sounds )) "I don't know much, though. I'm only 7 and my parents never let me downstairs." She kicks her foot around. She seems shy and unaccustomed to talking to adults.

Internal Monologue

Okay, this disguise is working. I even have an excuse to learn more about these catacombs. Although it'd be nice to be an adult again. Safer. I can carry that sword again. If we do go exploring, I'll need to change costumes...

[Artemis97]

Raril start checking over his gear. "If you don't have keys... well, I don't exactly have keys." The drow chuckles. "I've fought my share of undead, if it comes to that, too." Darkvision would probably help too, but leaves that unsaid. His race should make it obvious enough to those familiar with drow. "I'll follow your lead." He says, nodding to Thorvard.

[Fenric]

Thorvard looks around, then at the ghost

The basement isn't that scary... so, lead on.

[Razanir]

She gleefully leads everyone downstairs. (( Hope you don't mind I made it an old, weathered door )) The crowd is capable of following her most of the way, but as they approach the door, they lose track of the ghost.

The Bard runs off. He doesn't have much time, so he decides to make do with the wig. He looks around quickly for a name, and notices the script from before.

Shortly after the ghost disappears, an elf steps out of the darkness. High elf, which is odd for being underground, but The Bard had to act quickly. The elf is carrying a bloodied sword. "Ye may call me Duncan. Now tell. What are ye seeking?" (( If anyone looks closely enough, they'll notice Duncan's hair is unusually similar to the ghost girl's ))

[Deathkeeper]

"We're seeking the door to the tunnels underneath this place, Ghost Man, and we're kind of in a hurry, if you don't mind." says Mist, getting annoyed.
((can the Bard mask his scent? because he's dealing with two therianthropes and a Pathfinder kitsune right now.))

[Razanir]

"The door is over there." He points to a weathered door, hidden behind some costume racks. You can tell someone's been "borrowing" clothes. He looks a bit worried, though, as he begins to realize he's dealing with shapeshifters. He might not be able to convince them if he changes costumes too much.

(( To answer your question, no. If he was dealing with the general population, sure. But if he's dealing with people accustomed to changing forms, he won't be fooling anyone after too many costume changes ))

[Artemis97]

The drow peers at the other elf, his hand dropping to the hilt of his rapier. High elves carrying swords made him twitchy, more so when they were in unexpected places. "What exactly are you doing down here?" He might even recognize that The Bard was wearing a wig, since Raril had quite a bit of experience with such things himself.

[Razanir]

"Umm..." The Bard realizes the danger of being a high elf around the drow. He quickly retreats to change back, remembering the ghost girl was well received. (( If anyone's quick enough in pursuit, they might catch him changing costumes ))

Shortly after Duncan leaves, the ghost girl steps back out. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" She pauses, realizing what she is. "A different ghost!" Remembering what she lead everyone down for, she walks over to the battered door, hidden behind costume racks. "The cat-tombs are here. And since I'm going with you, I'm Candace!" She proudly introduces herself to everyone, thinking herself an adult.

[Fenric]

Alas for the bard, Thorvard is a not just a were-rat, he's related to the previous owner, and he is a theatrical Director.

He arches an eyebrow

One ghost lurking around I could perhaps understand being uninformed about, but you know, I think my uncle would have mentioned it if there was more than one. Moreover, it is truly fascinating that one exits and another walks in.

So come, let us dispense with this: I am Thorvard Besarin, director of The Masked Troupe and owner of this Theatre. My friends here are in no small hurry, and we thank you for the guidance, but we haven't time for distractions.

With that, he begins to compare the keys on his keyring to the opening in the door.

[Razanir]

"Okay... I suppose my actual introduction's in order." The Bard is still using his little girl voice, although his vocabulary has much improved from Candace's. "They call me The Bard. It's not my actual name, but I've been in so many plays and so many parts over the years, that even I've forgotten. I only came here to look for stories, and don't really know what these catacombs are. But it sounds like someone's in trouble, and that's good enough for me. Now in a perfect world, I'd be able to change costumes before leaving. I'd like to be an adult again, so it actually makes sense for me to have that sword. But if you'll all in such a rush, I suppose Candace will do. Just one thing, though. Even if you fellow thespians can see through my disguise, most people can't. As far as the world's concerned, and as far as even I'm concerned, my name's Candace right now. So let me introduce myself once again." He slips back into Candace's personality.

"Hi, Mr. Besarin! I'm Candace!"

[Fenric]

Thorvard smiles, but doesn't turn away from the door, where he fruitlessly tries another key

Well met, Candace. But there are nearly a hundred keys here, they are unmarked, and they're similar sizes. You were quick enough before that there is a very good chance you will not delay us now...

The next key won't even go in all the way, the one after that teases with a partial turn but stops at a later tumbler, and so on it goes.

[Ionbound]

Helen frowns and says, "Do we really have to take him with us? What if he wants...It for his own nefarious purposes?"

[Razanir]

"I promise, miss, I'm only here for the stories! And actually," she turns to Thorvald, "I kinda like this costume." While she's saying this, Candace runs into the costume rack and climbs on top. When she reemerges, she's looking a lot less ghostly. She's also lost her lisp. "Been a while since I've been little. Think I'll adventure as Candace for a while. At any rate, I can still use some magic to fight. 'Course, I can always be older if you don't want a little kid like me adventuring." She starts kicking her legs impatiently.

[Deathkeeper]

Mist rolls hie eyes. "If three's a crowd, we're getting close to a country. But sure, why not?" he says.

[Fenric]

Finally, there is a series of clicks as the old lock turns. Thorvard grumbles, attaching the keyring to his belt, and then pulls on the door ring. With a rusty shriek, the door opens a few inches then stops.

Little help, please! These hinges haven't moved in a while...

[Artemis97]

"Let me help with that." Raril offers, stepping up and reaching for the ring. He'll brace a foot on the other door and pull hard. If it doesn't start to move, the drow will begin to look a little... fuzzier around the ears, under the collar, and the cuffs of his sleeves as he drew on some of his lupine strength.

[Razanir]

"I can help!" As Candace jumps down from her perch, her hand starts glowing. She runs over to Thorvald and Raril to cast her spell. "Bull's Strength! You should feel a bit stronger now!"

[Ionbound]

Helen also nods, and begins pulling at the door, though she's not particularly strong, and probably isn't a whole lot of help.

[Deathkeeper]

Mist will actually stand back and let this one happen. There's just not any more room in front of that door to help them pull!

[Fenric]

The door resists, but it's no match for that much power... At least until the ring pulls right out of the wood with a rending snap. It's open about nine inches, now, and Thorvard looks out

Quite dark, naturally. I assume you folks brought some lights?

[Artemis97]

"I can do a dancing light spell." Raril offers. "But I don't need it to see. If you two brought other light sources, it would be more reliable, and you wouldn't have to stick near me." He nods to the pair who came from Inari's as he speaks.

[Razanir]

"I have my own light." Candace's hand starts glowing again. This time, it's a continuous shine like a torch, as opposed to the temporary glow from a spell waiting to be cast.

(( Heh. It's a pun. Torch like in dungeons, or torch like British English for a flashlight ))

[Deathkeeper]

Mist nods. "I've got something similar, so if we get split up we can manage."

[Fenric]

Thorvard nods, mumbles something and wiggles his fingers, and his eyes take on the telltale red glow of infravision.

Always best to not rely too much on any one thing.

With that, he slips through the door and into the corridor beyond, stopping at the first branching a short distance ahead and waiting for the others.

[Ionbound]

Helen nods, snaps her fingers, and a spot on her forehead begins glowing like a torch. She smiles and says, "Glad to see I can still do that, at least." When the group reaches the split, she looks back and forth before eventually giving up and saying, "Any ideas on which way to go?"

[Razanir]

"I'm just a little girl. You guys are the 'sponsible grown-ups." The Bard is clearly having fun with being a kid. "But seriously, though. I just got here. I don't know much at all about this quest."

[Artemis97]

Raril looks down at The Bard and frowns. "You don't have to be a little girl, though. You could be anything. Like that High Elf with the bloody sword." The drow clearly didn't trust this... person, whatever it was. He was careful to keep 'Candace' in front of him where she could be seen.

[Fenric]

Thorvard looks at Mist and Helen

Didn't you get a compass, or tracer, or anything? Surely they didn't send you out empty handed?

[Ionbound]

Helen shakes her head and says, "All we know is that what we're looking for is in these catacombs somewhere...Not even Lady Caroline knows where it is."

[Deathkeeper]

"We've gotten a look at our objective, though. It's really noticeable. All we have is a tracer to lead us in the direction of the Temple, which our goal should be between from here. If you would like to split up I suppose we could, Helen and I each taking a team, else we can just ford ahead." Mist says.

[Fenric]

Thorvard nods

That's more like it: Which way does it point?

[Deathkeeper]

Mist will take out the aforementioned object and point somewhat over dramatically in the direction it is indicating.

[Fenric]

Thorvard tries to be discrete about sniffing as he gazes in the mentioned direction, pretending to wipe his nose.

There's something weird down that way... be on your guard.

for his part, he draws a very unpleasant looking 8-inch stiletto from a hidden sheath before heading in the direction.

[Razanir]

Candace looks around to make sure no one not in the party is in earshot, before switching back to The Bard's personality. "I told you..." He realizes he knows almost no one's names. "Sir Drow. It's been a while since I've been young. Let me relish in my youth! And if you're wondering why a girl, it's because I thought it'd be creepier when I entered as a ghost. Now it's just laziness."

[Ionbound]

Helen nods as she slides the two daggers out of her sleeves, fails to catch them, blushes and says, "Oops..." as she picks them up, and then says, "Well, then. I think we should go that way, but probably very carefully. Any other ideas?"

[Deathkeeper]

Mist will actually keep his weapons sheathed. He has enough that he might want to choose what he pulls out. Besides, he's actually extremely proud of how fast he's gotten his drawing-speed. He practices even though he never fights.
Oh, and he'll also take a sniff of the air to try and figure out what this strange thing is.

[Artemis97]

"Youth is all well and good, but I don't understand who or what you are, and honestly I don't like that." The drow says bluntly. "And you may call me Raril." He adds, his voice softening. Raril was beginning to realize he was being paranoid. Of course, that didn't mean he was wrong, either.

Seeing the others arm themselves, Raril unslings the crossbow from his back and sets a bolt with a click. It was a rather heavy looking device, but finely crafted with a set of brass sights on the front. The wear on the stock showed it had been used many times before and the drow carried it with ease.

[Fenric]

The smell ahead... keeps changing. Is it fish? Is it grapefruit? Is it freshly mown grass? Or perhaps stilton cheese? Oh, and rat: very, very much rat. Very close. And moving along nicely in front.

Right along where Thorvard is.

[Ionbound]

Sadly, Helen does not have a finely tuned sense of smell of a therianthrope of any variety, so she proceeds along the tunnel, cautious and on guard for any...apparitions.

[Deathkeeper]

Mist snorts. He's not sure what's going on in that sense, but it might have something to do with how many shapeshifters are around. Although Caroline mentioned wild magic, maybe it's here too?
Regardless, he still advances, albeit cautiously, his bare foot-pads barely making a sound.

[Fenric]

Thorvard is sitting in his office, contemplating how to best handle Certain's instructions when a stunningly beautiful woman walks in. His crux informs him that it is an illusion, but he has a very hard time listening to it when she speaks in a sultry voice.

You don't really want to throw all this away on a piddly little whisper demon now, do you?

Thorvard blinks and flexes his wings

My mistress is not "piddly"

L'Narith laughs with a sound that drives men mad

Come now, my little wererat-demon... surely your artistic soul desires more than that?