TITANIA DE CHARBONNEAU London Sewers London 1806 A.D. .......... <> Being dragged about the poorer parts of London upon the arm of a man who positively *exuded* villainy would certainly have put the most patient soul in a foul temper. She was tired and irritable, and quite certain that events couldn't possibly get worse. However, *that* most absurd notion is tossed away when Titania sets her gaze upon the fouls tunnel opening before her. "Mon Dieu!" The exclamation escapes her lips as if of it's own will. She looks up at him in horror, knowing full well that all she would see would be that now familiar mocking smile. The one that made her feel precisely the helpless female she was. "But surely you are quizzing me, M Roche! Why on earth?...the sewars!" Surely there was some other place that would serve. <><><><><> When the Roman author had completed his survey of the stupendous aqueducts which adorned at the same time as they served his native city, he exclaimed with a feeling of self gratulation easily to be understood, "Tot aquarum tam multis necessariis mollibus pyramidum videlicet otisiosis comparem, aut cetera inertia, sed famâ celebrata, Græcorum opera!" In our generatin we may almost do likewise ; for, although London underground is very far from being what it should be, although considering the immense progress made of late years in hydrodynamic engineering, our water- supply is very inferior, and our system of sewerage very rude and incomplete; yet, even if we lay aside all sentiments of nationality, we may justly pride ourselves that the sewers and water-supply of our great metropolis are as far superior to those of any other city in modern Europe as those of Rome were to any in the ancient world. If, for instance, we direct our attention to Paris, or to any continental city, at every turn we are met with annoyances, here quietly and unostentatiously removed by agencies, and through an organization, whose existence is hardly suspected, until we inquire what becomes of the materials which elsewhere so annoy us. So also, bad though our water-supply is said to be, susceptible of immense improvement as it unquestionably is, there is hardly any city in the world in which this great necessity of life is attainable so cheaply or so copiously as in London. -"London and its Vicinity exhibited", John Weale, 1854 .......... London The Sewers 1806 A.D. ..... London underground is not something the residents of London normally extoll as one of the virtues of their city, but it must be admitted that their sewer system is more extensive and more efficient than in Paris. It is probably because of these characteristics that Msr. Roche chose them as the place to which he will lure his foe. There are miles and miles of tunnels, ranging from main aquaducts large enough to drive a carriage through, to tight drain-holes that a child like Tim might be able to squeeze through only with the help of some grease, liberally applied. These excellent characteristics do nothing to relieve the stench of the environs, nor to distract your mind from the fact that you will be wading, indeed practically swimming, through the "peculiar nuisances" so delicately alluded to by city chroniclers. Roche, of course, does not care about your sensibilities, and you can easily imagine that running, hiding and fighting in rivers of muck would not bother him much. "The sewers are perfect," he says. "Hidden from sight, the ideal place for a duel between immortals that will not suffer interference. Not to mention, I have made a study of the sewer network, and my enemy has not." He seized your wrist and dragged you inside, ignoring any protests you might make. Shutting your eyes and trying not to think about the fetid air and the slurping, squishing muck underfoot as Roche drags you along relieves your mind somewhat....now you can occupy your mind with thoughts of losing your head instead. Deep in the bowels of the city (a metaphor too literal to dwell on), he stops at last. He has navigated the tunnels in complete darkness, how you don't know. At least it spared you the sight of the sewers. But now he lights a lantern, and you see wet stone covered with a thick layer of green and brown mold and other substances in a large circular chamber. Some very large rats scurry around at the edge of the light cast by Roche's lantern. Roche turns to you and hands you the lantern. "Now, I must go and see that our mutual friend comes as he ought." "I would highly recommend that you stay right here. If you wander, you are likely to get lost. And then I will have to come find you, and be very irate." He smiles, but that fearsome malevolence flashes in his eyes, and you know his mild warning is in fact a threat of dire consequences. "Of course, there is also the possibility that my foe would find you first." "So for now, adieu!" And with that, without a lantern of his own, he stalks off through the knee-deep water, into one of the several tunnels radiating from this chamber. <><><><><> <> She couldn't decide wheher to relieved that Mr Roche had left or overjoyed. That he was odious was an undisputable fact. That he was dangerous, as well. But now she was alone in the dark sewars, with nothing but the scurrying of rats and God knew what else to keep her company. Of course she stayed in the exact same spot as he had left her. Would she survive this? And if she did, would Mr Roche keep his end of the bargin? Or would he simply dispose of her? These thoughts, combined with her surroundings, served to turn Titania into naught but a mass of nerves. In vain did she seek to turnm her mind elsewhere. No good. Instead, she merely gives in to her unsettling thoughts, pacing back and forth to relieve her tension somewhat. <><><><><> [GM] In the sewers beneath the city, sounds echo constantly up and down the dank tunnels. You hear drips, sloshes, gurgles, splashes, distant roars, rumbles, rattles, and a hundred other eerie noises, some of which are identifiable, many of which are not, and whose sources can only be guessed at. Imagination can do terrible things to a person clutching one tiny lantern in the fetid darkness. The rats that scurry along the edges of the circle of light seem to become enlarged, until you'd swear you saw a whiskered creature half the size of a large dog, glaring at you with baleful red eyes (they seemed not unlike those of Monsieur Roche.) Something sloshes its way down a tunnel, probably just the ripples from another influx of sewage finding its way into the aquaducts, but you can almost see some large, stooped creature, with great misshapen feet, ambling along a slimy passageway, licking its lips as it smells fresh warm blood and hears the pounding of a terrified heart..... Clearly, it is time to stop reading those dreadful gothic novels. The dreadful creature that does come ambling back up the passageway after an eternity is Roche. You can't begin to guess how long you've been waiting. Certainly more than an hour, probably less than a day. You are shivering with cold, your teeth chattering from having your feet submerged in filthy cold water for so long. Your legs are tired, and if there was someplace to sit down where you wouldn't be getting the rest of your body soaked, you would have. The lantern provides only the feeblest flicker of light now. The sudden return of that spine-shivering sensation is almost a relief. The relief fades as Roche steps into the light and reminds you how you came to be here in the first place. "He's coming," Roche says quietly, with a manic grin on his face. His gleaming, slightly curved sword is in his hand. He stalks towards you and grabs your wrist, and immediately begins leading you towards yet another dark tunnel opening, pulling you along as before. Resistance seems as useless as before. He's holding the sword. You're still holding the lantern, but he's already demonstrated that he doesn't need one. As you're pulled down another tunnel (this one low enough that even you have to duck your head, and try not to think about your hair brushing against the muck clinging to the ceiling), Roche suddenly says "I say.....I'll bet you could scream rather loudly if you put your mind to it, couldn't you?" He glances sidelong at you, with another of those narrowed, evil leers, made even more sinister by the fact that only a few planes of his face are illuminated in the dim glow of your lantern, the rest is cast in stark shadow. "Why don't you give it a try? Give us a nice wail of terror." <><><><><> <> She was almost looking forward the culmination of Mr Roche's trap. Almost, but not quite. To just be done with this awful fear and certainty that something very Bad was about to happen. She looks at her not very companionable companion. "Well, I have never have the opportunity to scream in terror before. But I suppose," she gives him a weak smile, "I may try." She clears her throat, and after a few false starts she takes a deep breath. *Picture a shining length of steel swooping down towards your throat, Titania.* "AHHHHHH!!!" Well, if she might say so herself, that *had* been done rather nicely. <><><><><> [GM] "Very nice," Roche says appreciatively, as if giving an appraisal of a poetry recital, while the echoes of your scream reverberate off into the distance. He pauses and listens, and then you hear it. A distant splashing. As if someone was hurriedly running through ankle-deep water. Your Nemesis, you know with dread certainty. But then you hear something else that almost makes your heart stop. "....titania!" It comes from even further away, but the voice is unmistakable. Cymbeline. Roche, who was about to resume your forced-march through the sewers, pauses again and scowls. "What the hell?" he growls, looking at you with narrowed eyes as if you deliberately summoned your brother. He seems as mystified as you as to how Cymbeline could have known to look for you in the sewers. He curses, in a language you don't know, but you are quite certain he's cursing. And nearly wrenches your arm out of its socket as he starts moving again. Ahead, you hear the roar of cascading water, growing in intensity. You must be heading towards some sort of confluence, or perhaps a drop where water spills over the edge to some lower level of the sewers. <><><><><> <> She was suddenly very, very afraid. It was one thing to fear for her own life. But Cym's as well? What if he were to die? It would be all her fault. How on earth had he found her? She prayed to God that the Person following them would not concern himself with the life of a mere mortal. "Oh sir! I had no idea..let not my brother be harmed in this, I beg of you!" Besides this plea, which she was sure would be a vain appeal to Mr Roche's cold heart, she continues to run behind. Perhaps Cym wouldn't find them. She hoped not, at least until the terrible nightmare was over. <><><><><> [GM] "I didn't lure your brother down here!" Roche growls. "How the hell did he find you?" You are pulled out into a wide, cavernous chamber, where water flows rapidly on either side of a narrow walkway, before falling into a dark abyss at the end of the sluiceway. You get the impression of a lot of open space beyond, and other tunnels in the darkness, but you can't see clearly. Roche, apparently, can. "I have no interest in your mortal kin," the sinister immortal says. "So pray he does not get in my way!" Then, to your surprise, he turns you roughly around, and pulls your arms behind your back. You feel him wrapping rope around your wrists. "Just a precaution," he says calmly. "Your part now, is simply to look helpless and terrified." Your Aunt and Uncle once had a guest, a military officer who had served in India, who regaled you all with his hunting stories. You found them rather dreadful, actually. You particularly remember the story of how they tied a goat to a tether, and let it bleat helplessly until it attracted a tiger. The hunter waited in the bushes, with a rifle. With the tiger lured into his sights, he shot it dead. Of course, it was made much easier by the fact that the tiger had already slaughtered the poor goat.... Then Roche is stretching a piece of cloth over your mouth. He means to gag you too! What does he fear you might say? Didn't he *want* you to scream? For that matter, you're both standing on this walkway, with water rushing by on either side. Just where does he intend to hide? <><><><><> <> Looking helpless and terrified would be amazingly easy just now. "Excuse me, Sir." She twists her head to and fro, trying to avoid the gag intended for her, and tries to step away from him. Although not to far way, the narrow walkway being uppermost in her mind. "Is a gag really neccesary? I thought you wanted me to scream? And what exactly are you planning? Where are you going to hide? You are not going to slaughter me as they did that poor goat to capture the tiger, are you? You promised, M. Roche!" Fright had lent a definite tone of shrillness to her usually well modulated speech. <><><><><> [GM] "You've screamed quite enough, he's coming this way, and that's all I need," Roche says, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you back against him. "Stop that squirming!" Your lantern falls to the stone causeway, shatters and then disappears into the water, plunging you back into darkness. There really isn't much you can do to stop him. He shoves his fingers between your teeth, jamming the gag in your mouth. With swift motions, he ties it tightly, with a knot on the back of your head. "I'm not sure I understand the reference to goats and tigers, though it does sound somewhat appropos." He chuckles, actually more of a giggle, high- pitched and maniacal. Then one hand squeezes you around the throat- not hard. Almost gently. He holds you like that, and leans close so his lips brush against your cheek, and you feel every bit the helpless heroine in some lurid gothic novel, only it isn't a bit exciting or romantic, it's terrifying and humiliating, bound and gagged and manhandled freely by a madman, who's probably spared you pawing of a more lecherous nature only because he's too insane to care about such earthy desires, not with some lunatic bloody obsession to cut off heads occupying his deranged mind- He leans close and whispers "Be a good girl, and I won't take your head. Just stay on the walkway....whatever you do, don't step off. And you may survive." And then, he steps off. He sinks into the water almost soundlessly, and is completely submerged in an instant. You didn't even think the water was that deep. You seem to be at the center of some underground river that has been harnessed to flow through the sewers, but you thought here, on an artificial sluiceway, the current would be shallow, if strong. But Roche disappeared into the lightless depths. You can still sense him, though. And then, you can sense the Other. An extra shiver down your spine. The knowledge that another of your kind (God forbid that Roche and this nameless Nemesis be "your kind!") has entered the range of your new senses. Roche lurking in the water, you have less than a foot on either side of you to maneuver. Behind you is the edge of a drop of indeterminate distance, and in front of you a black hole......from which a lumbering, shadowy presence is now emerging, more sensed than seen. But you see his glowing eyes, and from the dim glow of those eyes, you see light reflecting off of a metal blade. Slowly, with silent, determined steps, the Nemesis advances on the helpless maiden who stands before him, hands tied behind her back and a gag stuffed in her mouth. This is probably how the goat felt, tethered to a stake as the tiger padded towards her.... [The following visual doesn't necessarily mean you're expected to think tactically. But the exact placement of each individual may become important soon, so I want to make sure you have some kind of idea what the layout is....] +++++++++++++++++cascading water++++++++++++++++++ |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~R?~|T|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| <-walls |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/N \~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| <><><><><> <> Helpless and terrified, she can only watch with horror as the figure advances upon her. *Please God,* she offers up a quick prayer, *I don't know if you're listening, put please, oh please let me survive. But if I don't, Cym will really need Your help. He'll see it as being his fault and I know he blames himself for my parent's and Tybalt's death. Please watch over him, God. And please take care of poor Tim, and the rest of my family. And please let me die with peace of mind. Thank you.* <><><><><> [GM] Step by step, the Adversary advances. He pauses, just beyond the reach of his sword. You're sure even if he can't see in the dark like Roche, he could find you just by the pounding of your heart, and your frantic breathing. (If you keep hyperventilating, with this infernal gag in your mouth, you may faint for the first time in your life, and wouldn't *that* be ironic?) "Who are you?" he growls. "Where is he?" Then everything happens at once. Light floods the dark chamber, shining from some other entrance. You hear Valentine cursing. Cymbeline shouts "Titania!" The big man with the iron sword spins and says "What the hell...?!" in a deep bass parody of Roche. Water explodes on your right, and you half-sense, half-see something rising out of it, like a leaping dolphin, but in surrealistic slow motion. The glimmer of a blade. Your Nemesis still spinning. Cymbeline screams "Get away from her!" Tim just yells. "Hooooooooooo-boy!" Blades clash, ringing and sparking, and Roche curses, coming to a landing on the walkway. Both men have swords in hand. Then a sudden "BOOM!" as black powder detonates. Where did Cymbeline get a gun? The big man snarls as Roche leaps at him, blade slashing, and then there is a shower of sparks as their swords grind together. He grabs Roche's wrist, they twist and then topple together, landing on the wet causeway at your feet. You see blood. The stranger glares up at you, you can see his face in the light cast by the lantern one of your brothers is holding (where? not in the same entrance that your hunter came out of) and he says "Jump!" And Cymbeline screams again, "Titania!" <><><><><> <> Jump? Into the water? With a gag in her mouth and her hands tied behind her back? Did the man think she was stark, raving mad? She'd rather take her chances on the walkway than willingly drown herself. Since she cannot answer him, Titania merely shakes her head emphatically. The only thing she could was step as far away from the fighting men as she could, without stepping off the walkway. And this she does. *Oh, please Cym, stay away!* <><><><><> [GM] "Titania! Don't move!" Valentine calls out to you, and you finally see where your brothers emerged. There is another opening into this chamber, off to your left....but it opens directly above the rushing water. Cymbeline and Valentine have no way to reach you, except by stepping directly into the water and trying to swim across. But Valentine is extending a foot cautiously, at the very lip of the cascade! You see him put his weight down, and realize there is a grate of some sort at the edge. The water flows through it and over it, and it would take an extraordinary balancing act for a man to walk across the top and not slip or be swept off his feet by the current. But your impetuous brother seems to be on the verge of making the attempt. Next to him, crowded into the narrow tunnel, Cymbeline has handed the lantern to Tim, and looks like he's trying to reload his pistol. So your two brothers have arrived and are determined to rescue you- probably at the cost of Valentine falling and drowning (if he doesn't break his neck.) At your feet, Roche and his larger opponent continue grappling on the narrow walkway, snarling and cursing in some foreign language that sounds vaguely Germanic. Then with a heave, the Nemesis throws Roche off of him. Your captor goes tumbling into the water, but reaches a hand out and grabs his enemy's coat. As he slides into the water, he puts his feet against the side of the walkway, which is a wall underwater, and pushes off, dragging the other immortal into the water after him before the big man can raise his sword to hack at Roche's arm. Both of them go under with a splash. +++++++++++++++++cascading water++++++++++++++++V+_________ |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|T|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|C |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|T_________ |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~RN~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/ \~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| <><><><><> <> Watching the two immortals fall off the walkway with a splash, Titania seizes her her chance. She hurries down the walkway towards the dark exit. Oh, if only she knew how to reach her brothers and Tim! But, at least the blockheaded Valentine would cease his suicidal progess once she was out of the way. At least, it was to be hoped. She goes no farther than the cavelike opening, keeping an eye upon Valentine and the murky depths below the walkway. <><><><><> [GM] Valentine has paused, teetering precariously on the lip of the drop, with his own sword out, held now for balance. "Titania!" Cym cries out. You hear your two brothers conferring, then Cymbeline waves you on urgently. "Yes, run, sister! We will find you somehow." To your great relief, Valentine is stepping back towards the opening where Tim and your older brother crouch, and Cymbeline seizes his arm and helps pull him back to safety. In the water where Roche and his adversary fell, you see vague shapes thrashing about. Then a bright greenish light flares, down near the edge where the water cascades over and through the wall or grate or whatever it is that holds it back partially. This flare is answered by another greenish-blue flash, as if arcane flames are somehow being kindled underwater, by the conflict between the two immortals. <><><><><> <> Every instinct screamed at her to flee, to run while she had the chance. Her fate, should M. Roche lose the battle, would surely be death; and if he won, well, she was beginning to think it might still be death. But, some perverse part of her had glued her feet to the spot where she stood. Her limbs absolutely refused to run. She could only watch, in paralyzed fear, the battle between the two immortals. <><><><><> [GM] "Titania!" Cymbeline hisses desperately, as you stand rooted to the spot. You can see water churning above the approximate spot where the two immortals are clashing below. Roche never mentioned whether immortals can drown...or how long they can hold their breath. You see more sparks, some shooting up to the surface and bursting into the air with sizzling pops. You can't make out what is happening, or see whether either one is winning. But suddenly a brilliant flare of light boils water at the far end of the pool, and then the cascade on your left turns into a torrent and the water level seems to drop abruptly. You hear a rumble, muffled by several cubic yards of water, as metal is torn asunder. It would appear that the slotted wall behind the two combatants has somehow been breached. "Titania, RUN!" Cym urges. He is fumbling with his pistol, trying to reload it. <><><><><> <> What one ought to do, and what one actually does is oftentimes a very different thing. What she ought to do was follow her brother's advice and run. Instead, she takes a step back, making sure that her feet are well off of the precarious seeming walkway. And she watches. <><><><><> [GM] Water is gushing in a high-pressure torrent from the far end of the sluiceway- you can't see it, but you can hear it. Then you hear something else as well; one of the men howling. The voice is too deep to be Roche, it must be the other man. "Loooooooookkkkeeeeeeeeeeee!" he screams furiously, as he plummets to the level below (you can tell he's plummeting by the way his voice recedes, and by the loud splash that terminates his howl.) There is a relative stillness in the water, then, as the level of the flow evens out. Then a head breaks the surface. Roche, eyes glowing, hauls himself slowly onto the causeway, still clutching his sword in one hand. Half in and half out of the water, he glares into the darkness where you are standing. He says nothing. But he looks very, very, very angry. You can practically feel his smouldering rage from here, and the bloodlust that's been stirred in him...a lust roused, and unsatisfied. <><><><><> <> Why hadn't she run when she'd had the chance? Titania swallows the lump in her throat. Now, it would be suicidal, to try and outrun a man who could see in the dark. And she with a long dress and her hands bound behind her. "Mr Roche?" Try as she might, she can't stop the thread of shakiness which has entered her voice. "Hadn't you better go after him?" She was slowly backing away from him by pure instinct. "I mean, you don't, um, want him to escape, ne c'est pas?" <><><><><> [GM] Your query, alas, comes out as "MMmmmMMph? Mmmmmmppph?" since in your panic, you had quite forgotten about the gag still stuffed in your mouth. Roche doesn't take any notice. He pulls himself slowly out of the water, then rises. "That," he says in a sonorous, dreadful voice, "did NOT work out as planned." He seems to be trying to bore a hole through you with his stare, or at least that's how it feels. He advances on you slowly, still holding his sword out. "Thanks to your meddling brothers!" The meddling brothers to which he's referring are now shouting at the top of their lungs, alternately urging you to run, and threatening Roche. Valentine seems about to either attempt his suicidal balancing act again, or simply dive into the water and try to swim across. "For the love of God, leave her alone!" Valentine cries out, and Cym bellows "Take another step and I'll put a bullet through your skull!" Roche pauses. He turns his head slightly, as if only noticing for the first time that they're still here. Then he chuckles. "I'll take my chances, boy," he says. And turning back towards you, takes another step. "I'll tell you what, my dear....just hold still, and I'll make this quick and painless, and if I'm in a good mood afterwards, maybe I'll even spare those idiot brothers of y-" Another pistol shot cuts off his statement. Roche pauses, as the ball whangs off the stone wall on the far side of the chamber, then runs his hand through his hair. "That was close," he comments appreciatively. His confidence is not hard to understand....it probably surprised him that Cym even managed to get off a second shot, when his powder and the gun itself should be too damp by now to ignite. In the poor lighting, Cym would have to be an extraordinary shot to really have much chance of hitting Roche. And of course if he did, Roche would just get up again....but Cym doesn't know that. "I've changed my mind," the immortal says brusquely, and closes the distance between you more quickly now. "I'm going to kill you AND those fools. They're just entirely too annoying." He grabs your arm. "Sorry, my dear. If I'd taken Donner's head as I meant to, I really would have spared yours, but I have to have *something* to show for all this." But apparently he doesn't intend to cut off your head this very moment. He begins dragging you along with him, going back in the general direction you came, and leaving Cymbeline and Valentine's frantic shouts behind. Your only comfort now- and precious little comfort it is- is the knowledge that he must have SOME reason for not just beheading you immediately, as he could easily do. Perhaps if you could figure out why he's waiting....but even if you knew, you are quite as helpless as before. Cymbeline really is going to be VERY wroth with you. <><><><><> <> Useless though it may be, she struggles in his grip. Oh, why hadn't they trusted her and stayed put? But, she knew, that they had only gone after her because they loved her. It really wasn't their fault. Somehow, she would try and get out of this. <><><><><> [GM] Resistance is futile. Roche's grip on your arm is like iron. "It's really for the best," he says conversationally, but a mad titter in his voice raises gooseflesh on the back of your neck. It has never been more obvious than now that Roche is quite mad....he's a deranged lunatic, a lunatic capable of behaving like a normal person, pretending to be rational, reasonable, even charming....but under stress, his madness is boiling to the surface, and you can almost feel it radiating from him, as a tangible force. "You wouldn't have survived long anyway, a wee girl like you. Pampered and spoiled...you'd never have been able to cope with the rigors of the Game. Someone else would have taken your head, or you'd have had to retreat to holy ground and live there as a nervous wreck, and a prisoner of your own frailty." He turns his beaming face towards you, and all you can see is his glowing red eyes, and a little bit of reflected light on his nose and cheeks and forehead, giving him a distinctly demonic appearance. "Really, this is an act of mercy." Perhaps he would have let you live, or perhaps he intended to kill you all along. You'll probably never know. You do know that the rest of your life can probably be measured in minutes, if Le Bon Dieu or someone else does not intervene. When you lag, or stumble, he simply drags you bodily along, at some points actually lifting you by one arm, painfully wrenching your shoulder. He is not a large man, but his strength is considerable. You could simply refuse to stop walking, but then he'd no doubt just sling you over his shoulders, or perhaps drag you by your hair. You continue sloshing through the sewers, until you see pale light ahead. He drags you into a stone culvert with a few slots along the ceiling opening to the world outside. Whether it's a riverbank up there, or a street or a drainage ditch running along a row of buildings, you can't tell. Grey rays of sunlight shine into the stale air of the small chamber. "This will be as good a place as any," Roche says. He yanks your gag off. "Go down on your knees. You may pray, if you wish. But please don't do anything silly, like forcing me to hold you down and hack your head off while I'm sitting on your stomach, it would be most undignified, ne c'est pas?" You hear a hooting noise, from up the tunnel that you just stepped out of. Roche frowns. Another noise answers it, from much further down the tunnel, you're not sure what direction. It sounds vaguely like a birdcall, or perhaps a suffering cat, but there is an unnatural quality about it. Distant echoes carry the sound of splashing, as of someone running through ankle-deep water. <><><><><> <> She was terrified. She was going to die. This was the time for insane, last ditch efforts. The noises beyond give her some small hope. She leans against a cold wall, testing the bonds about her wrist. "M. Roche! Someone is coming!" Would he look up? All she needed was for him to be distracted for a moment. But even if he wasn't, she was still going to try something, anything. Anything turns out to be the shrillest, loudest scream she can utter. At the same time, she kicks at him with all her force, using the wall as leverage. The target? His kneecap. Would it faze him at all? Would he pause? She doesn't take the time to find out. Instead, she just runs. Runs back in the direction they came from. And screams again for good measure. [Of course, this is supposing any of this is possible, which it may not be.] <><><><><> [GM] "Yes," Roche says, sounding annoyed, "I hear-" and then you scream, and drive your foot at his knee. To your surprise as much as his, you hit, and he goes stumbling back, perhaps more from the audacity of the attack than any damage you might have inflicted. He doesn't fall, though, but you seize the moment to go running out of the culvert....and into the pitch darkness of the tunnel outside. Not that that matters, at this point. You go plunging forward, running blindly and with your wrists tied behind your back. You know you can't hope to evade Roche for long, he's probably on your heels even now. But you manage not to stumble, despite your wet skirts trailing in the water and clinging to your ankles, and miraculously, you manage to run down the tunnel without bumping into anything or grazing your head against a low arch. (Or perhaps it's not such a miracle- in moments of sheer panic, blind instinct has often served you well, and now you have nothing else to go on.) You can still feel that ominous buzzing, what Roche calls "the Quickening", so you know he's behind you. You see a gleam of light ahead, and a young voice exclaiming "Cor!" Then something heavy hits you from behind. Roche brings you down with a flying tackle that almost breaks your back, and you go face first into the cold, dirty water. You feel a flare of pain as your nose and lips smash against the stone tunnel floor, but of more immediate concern is the fact that your face is submerged, and you can't breathe. Then Roche seizes the back of your head and jerks your face roughly out of the water. You cough and sputter and taste blood. His knee is on your spine, causing additional agony. "Do this the hard way, then," he grunts, and you can sense him raising his sword, though you can't see it. There is a soft slapping sound, and Roche exclaims "Ouch!" A boy begins screaming, only yards away, a ullulating war cry. You hear more cries answering from down the tunnel. "Get off'n her, ye blighter!" the boy yells, and you hear something whiz through the air and clatter off the tunnel wall. "Incroyable!" Roche exclaims. He laughs with bemused contempt. "*Children* are coming to your rescue? How very....quaint!" Then you hear Cym's voice, echoing from far away. "Tiiitaaaaaaaniaaaaaa!" "Too much, this is too much," Roche says. He rises and jerks you to your feet by your hair, and practically bends you over backwards, holding you between himself and the boy hiding in shadows up the tunnel, just in time for a rock to smack you in the chest. It hits hard enough to suggest it was propelled by either an unusually strong arm, or a sling. The stinging impact would have made you jump, but right now it's secondary to your broken nose and aching spine. Roche begins shoving you forward. "Meddlesome brats and brothers," he snarls. "I'm beginning to lose my good humor!" He hasn't cut your head off, though. That thought keeps running through your mind. And with the uncanny insight you've always possessed, you realize he's *afraid* of Cym and Valentine catching up to him. Or perhaps he's afraid of the other immortal somehow recovering and coming back. But he won't behead you until he's shaken off all pursuit. That gives you a glimmer of hope. Along with that, though, is a sense of foreboding, because your life may depend on Cym and Valentine intervening after all....and if that happens, you doubt they can survive Roche unscathed. <><><><><> <> She struggles against him as much as she can. There was no hope in getting away from him again, but anything to gain more time, a precious few more moments. Bless Tim's sweet little heart! If only she might survive this! If only her brothers might survive this! If only she might wake from this nightmare! <><><><><> [GM] Roche shoves you along, snarling curses in some foreign language. You hear boys yelling behind him. And your brothers' cries, coming closer. You ascend a narrow, slippery stairway, steps made of stone and covered with algae, and worn with years of water running over them. You sense light above. Can Roche be taking you out of the sewers? The pain in your face is subsiding. You can still taste blood, as it's smeared messily on your face and running down your neck, but your broken nose no longer hurts, nor do your smashed lips. He turns abruptly right, along a dark narrow passageway. You can sense, more than feel, water running rapidly along a river or manmade channel, just on the other side of the wall to your left. You can still hear the sounds of pursuit, when Roche suddenly stops and forces you to your knees. "This will suffice," he says. He grabs your hair to hold your head still while he raises his sword. "LET GO OF HER!" someone yells. You can barely see a small shape moving in the shadows, back the way you came. "Oh, come on then, boy," Roche says. "I'll drown the lot of you like rats, when I release this little bitch's Quickening!" The boy throws a rock, which doesn't come anywhere near you or Roche. He laughs. Then you hear a bloodcurdling yell from Tim, coming from the other direction. "What?" Roche says, and half-turns. You can't see what's going on, but his body shakes with some impact, then you see him stepping away from you and yelling. Tim falls against you, and you see Roche whirling around...after a moment your eyes pick out an unnatural protrusion on his leg. Tim has stuck a knife into it! Roche growls and he reaches down and pulls out the blade and tosses it aside. Tim is trying futilely to pull you to your feet. Roche takes one step forward, grabs the boy by the scruff of his neck, and hurls him against the wall. He bounces off and collapses to the ground. You can hear Cym and Valentine, not far away now, still calling for you. You have no idea how Roche or Tim or anyone has managed to navigate this maze....you're hopelessly lost. <><><><><> <> Trying to scramble to one's feet with your hands tied behind your back was not easy. Still, Titania attempted just that, biting her bruised lip in concentration. Whatever happened, she must keep Tim from harm. He was so young..and it would be all her fault. After all her previous struggles, Titania was now functioning on instinct only. It was as if her thoughts had ceased to be, leaving only a creature bent on survival. This time, when she attempted to kick the, hopefully, still surprised Roche, she aimed for his private regions. Unfortunately, her legs were the only free limbs she had. <><><><><> [GM] Your kick is clumsy and desperate. Roche catches your foot with barely a thought, and flings you backwards into the water. "You have quite outlived your amusement value," he says. Tim is moving, enough to raise his head above the water and lie there groaning. But he won't be providing any more immediate assistance. You hear other boys yelling and jeering, and another rock goes clattering off the tunnel ceiling, but Roche is virtually ignoring them. He pulls the knife out of his thigh and tosses it aside. He closes the distance between you with two steps, grabs you by the hair, and drags you painfully to your knees. At this point you see more light at the end of the tunnel....your brothers have arrived. He chuckles darkly, and swings you around so you are facing them. "Let your dear brothers watch you die," he says. "How poetic that your death will cause this tunnel to flood, drowning them like rats." You see Cymbeline running as fast as he can through the flooded tunnel, Valentine following behind, holding the lantern. Cym's eyes are wide and horrified as he sees you on your knees, your face no doubt a bloody mess, and (you are quite certain) Roche raising his sword behind you to strike off your head. Then the ominous feeling that resonates in your skull whenever Roche is near intensifies. Your sense of foreboding tells you that the Nemesis is approaching again. Roche must feel it too. He swears violently, and sputters "Will I never have a chance to finish you off decently?" Cymbeline staggers to a halt, and points his (probably water-logged and useless) pistol. "Unhand her, villain!" "How dramatic," Roche sneers, and yanks you to your feet, bringing tears to your eyes as your hair threatens to come out by the roots. Then he lays the blade of his sword against your throat. "Back away slowly or watch her die." <><><><><> <> Never would she have thought that she'd be happy for the Nemesis' presence. But she was, oh so very, very happy for it. Perhaps the two immortals would finish each other off. She hoped fervently that he would soon arrive. Hopefully, the little showdown between Roche and her brothers might consume a few precious moments. Before he killed her *and* everyone else. She certainly wasn't struggling at this point, not with a knife at her throat. Titania wished very much that there wasn't a blade at her throat. Her poor brothers didn't even know that Roche couldn't be killed- except for one way. <><><><><> [GM] Cymbeline looks uncertain, but he begins backing away, still holding the pistol pointed at Roche...unfortunately that means it's also pointing at you. "If you hurt her-" he says... "Shut up!" Roche snaps, and presses the blade against your throat slightly for emphasis. You feel it bite into your skin. Cym and Valentine continue retreating before him, until the tunnel widens. Roche (from what you can make out, being held in front of him) seems to be turning his head this way and that, almost sniffing the air, as if trying to determine where the Nemesis might be. You certainly can't get any kind of a directional feel from this sensation Roche called "the Quickening", though that might be because you're distracted just now. Then you hear the other immortal's voice, low and gutteral, echoing up the tunnel. "Lookkkiiiiiiiiii!" he hisses. It seems to be coming from behind. And you sense Roche stiffen, and begin pushing you forward even more urgently. He wanted to take this other immortal's head by surprising him....using you as the bait for an ambush. Clearly, he is afraid to face his opponent in a more even contest. Cym stops abruptly, and you see the barrel of the pistol wobbling in small circles....your silly brother seems to be trying to aim past you at some exposed part of Roche. This might hurt. "Unhand her now, villain!" he yells. "There is no way I am letting you take her out of my sight again!" Behind him, Valentine has a lantern in one hand, a drawn sword in the other. "Keep moving, or she dies!" Roche snarls, emphasizing his repeated threat by drawing blood this time. You feel it trickling down your neck, and you don't dare even swallow, so tightly does the blade press. Your brothers give a little more ground, but not fast enough to please Roche. He curses, and demands they turn and flee, repeating his threat to kill you once again. "No," Cym says, and stops. "If I let you take her, I fear you will kill her anyway. You are no man of honor." You feel the inexorable approach of the Nemesis. You can't hear his footsteps, but you can somehow sense that he is gaining on you. And Roche can too. He seems to be on the verge of panic. "You take her then!" he snarls. And draws his blade across your throat, before propelling you towards Cym with a violent shove. You feel the hot, searing pain, and then your breath is gone, your mouth opens but no sound will come out but a horrible bubbling, and you feel yourself sinking into an abyss where you have already gone once before. Your last sight is of Cym's horrified expression as he catches you, and his voice screaming from far away, "Titania! Mon Dieu...." And once again, you emerge from that abyss. Cymbeline is leaning over you, cradling you in his arms. "Mon Dieu!" he breathes, as you awake with a startled gasp. You can see tears glistening on his cheeks, reflecting the light of the guttering lantern flame, but his expression is one of joyous disbelief. "She has come back to life a second time!" This time he does not look frightened, nor does he run from you. A good thing, since he's holding you up. You seem to still be in the tunnel. And a brief wriggle reveals that he hasn't gotten around to untying your wrists yet. <><><><><> <> Titania begins to cry, also. It was just too much, all of it. She tests her voice, gingerly. "Cym," her voice was a whisper, if it came out at all. How long did the healing process take anyways, she wondered. "Get us out of here." A pause. "Where is Roche?" She takes a look around. <><><><><> [GM] "He....he ran, and that other man came rushing out of the shadows, pursuing him...." Cym takes a deep breath, while you try to figure out what else is amiss. You see it when you lay eyes on Valentine. He is slumped against the wall of the tunnel, clutching his chest. You see blood soaking the front of his shirt, running over his fingers, and flowing from a second wound on the side of his head. A ghastly one, with flesh hanging from his cheek, where a sword sliced his face from chin to ear. He is breathing shallowly, and can barely lift his head to look at you. "That madman threw you at me, then carved his way past us both," Cym murmurs, struggling to keep his voice under control. "He only scratched my arm....I was occupied catching you. But Valentine tried to block him, and took a thrust to the chest and a slash across the face for his trouble." You no longer sense the ominous foreboding of Roche or the Nemesis's proximity. With difficulty, Cym rises, lifting you as he does. "You urchins there," he says, addressing a trio of boys that you only now notice hovering at the edge of the lantern's light. "Will you please help my brother stand? We must get out of these accursed sewers!" That Cymbeline can say "please" to a group of penniless raggamuffins says much about his state of mind, and the adjustments he's had to make in the last few hours. But that brings to mind another item you'd temporarily forgotten (besides the ropes still binding your wrists behind your back); Tim. You don't see him. <><><><><> <> "O ciel! Valentine," she sobs. Her fault, all her fault. If he didn't live- Where was Tim? "Tim?" she calls, a note of panic creeping into her voice. "Tim, where are you? Cym, where is he?" Her panic was beginning to rise. If he was hurt, too... all her fault, every bit of it. She looks to the other street urchins. "Do you where Tim is?" <><><><><> [GM] "I'm here, miss." Tim's voice is weak, but steady. Cym swivels halfway around to spot the boy, giving you a glimpse of him also. He's being supported by another lad, walking as best he can, but you see blood staining his dirty blond hair also, from where Roche threw him into the wall. "Come," Cym says, against your anxious struggling. "We need to get the boy and Valentine both to a physician as quickly as possible, and that means getting out of these sacré sewars." "I ain't goin' to no fiz-ish-in!" Tim protests. "Just come *on*, boy!" Cym sighs, exasperated. Three of the taller boys are helping Valentine along, but you do not like his looks at all. Even in the dim lantern light, you can see he is much too pale, and he does not speak, just shambles forward with his arms across the shoulders of two boys. "Fastest way is up the main sluce, 'cross the ol' Puddleston River and up the Syndey gate, we'll be right out just south a' St. Paul's," says the boy in front, with a rapid patter. Cym nods, not having a clue where the boys are leading you. You are pretty sure you're capable of walking now, but for once it is comforting to let Cym be the protective (if somewhat overbearing) older brother...and right now he probably needs to feel like he's taking care of you, more than you need to be taken care of. Although it would be more comforting if he'd untie your wrists. "Who were they?" he asks you softly. "Those two villains with swords? What did that madman want with you?" Valentine stumbles and almost falls. Cym snaps at the boys "Hold him up, dammit! Don't let him fall in this filthy water!" The youngsters glower at him, but continue helping your other brother. You hear them muttering sarcastically about "his Lordship." The darkness is beginning to give way to gray light from an opening ahead, and none too soon as the lantern is just about to die. But then someone whistles again, and the boy ahead of you stops short. "Oh oh," he says. And there is that feeling again, that dreadful shivering in your spine, followed by the sound of heavy boots splashing through the water ahead. <><><><><> <> Titania walks mechanically alongside Cym. Dimly was she aware of her surroundings. Dimly did she hear her brother's questions, but it was as if the words were meant for another person. Death. So much death. Valentine would die. Oh no, please don't let him die! Her fault. Why had she gone with Roche? Why..why.. why had her parents gone to Paris that day? She could see her mother's face, so beautiful, so frightened. Don't die Maman! Papa! Was that her fault, too? Why wasn't she dead? Immortal. Forever. Valentine! It was so nice and peaceful in this sheltered place that her mind had retreated to. It didn't hurt here. She didn't ever want to hurt again. Never hurt. Never die. The tingling in her spine...what was it? Hazy recollections filtered in her thoughts. "Immortal," she whispered. "Creature." There was something she should realize. Something very important happening just now. What was it? She couldn't seem to focus. Too peaceful. Too *nice*. <><><><><> [GM] [Cym had not set you down yet...] "Ey you, go away!" yells one of the boys ahead, rather ineffectually. "Move aside, boy," says a deep, gruff voice, sounding more tired than anything else. Then the tall, sinister shape of your Nemesis comes looming out of the darkness. He stands in your path, looking at you, in Cym's arms, Valentine, bleeding and supported by two pre-adolescent boys, and Tim, also half-carried by his friends. "Stand aside, villain," Cymbeline says, trying to sound commanding. Given how ragtag and battered your group is, it doesn't sound too convincing. The other man- the *Immortal*- just stands there. It takes a moment for you to realize he has a sword in his hand. A big iron sword. "Sister, stay behind me," Cym whispers, very gently, and he slowly and carefully sets you on your feet, and then moves in front of you and draws his sword. "If you wish to harm anyone else here, it will have to be me first," he declares to the big man in front of him. "En guarde, you great oaf!" You've heard better speeches, and more caustic challenges, but none delivered in such a heartfelt manner. Cym is quite prepared to die for you. The other man looks at your brother, looks at his slender fencing sword, and makes a little snort, shaking his head. <><><><><> <> The obtrusive, unwanted voice of reason finally breaks Titania out of her daze. It was her chance to make reparation, to give Valentine, as well as the others, a chance to live. Cym would never surviver a fight with the deadly immortal. And Valentine needed a doctor as quickly as possible. There was only one way. Titania steps around her brother. "I know that it is me you want. Please. The deaths of these mortals can be of no benefit to you. Let them go, and I will surrender myself to you." Her words are very solemn, her chin high, as she pleads for the lives of her brothers and friends. <><><><><> [GM] "Ma soeur, non!" Cym exclaims. He grabs you and pushes you back, then whirls and slashes at the bigger man's neck with his sword. The Immortal's eyebrows lower in a deadly scowl. He raises his sword, blocks Cym's lighter weapon casually, and then raises his other hand and sends your brother spinning back into you with a right hook to the side of his face. You would catch him, but for the fact that your hands are still bound behind your back, so you can only brace yourself and try to provide a solid support for Cym to lean against, as he shakes his head groggily, groaning, and begins slumping towards your feet. Valentine looks up, but is too weak to do anything but clench his hands as if wishing to take up his own sword again. The boys look frightened, as if they might drop your wounded brother if the hulking swordsman comes another step towards them. "I don't 'want' you," the Nemesis growls. "That's Loki, who kills helpless women." Cym mumbles something unintelligible. The stranger points his sword at him and says "Don't swing that toy blade at me again or I'll break it over your head, boy." He sheaths his weapon and looks at Valentine. "This one is dying." <><><><><> <> "How very perceptive you are," she says tartly, not being able to stop herself. She looks to her brother. "Cym, *please* be reasonable for once and do as he says. For Valentine's sake." Her dark eyes rest upon the immortal. She did not believe his words for a moment. Obviously, this race of immortal beings were bloodthirsty, vicious killers who would stop at nothing to kill one of their own. Dear God, and she was one of them! "Yes, my brother is dying. So, I ask you again, Sir. Please let them pass without further ado, and I shall give myself up willingly." Titania turns to Cym, speaking in her native tongue in a low, passionate voice, "Pardieu, Cymbeline de Charbonneau! If you do not take the first oppurtunity to get yourself and Valentine out of here, I swear I shall kill you myself! It is the only way!" <><><><><> [GM] Cym staggers to his feet, and sways, a hand to his face. "You said that last time," he murmurs in French. "And you almost died. You've just escaped one murderous fiend and you want me to leave you with another-" "I am not a murderous fiend," the other man growls slowly, in French. He steps aside, and says "I am not stopping any of you. Go on. But Loki got away...as he always does." The big man's voice is almost mournful. "So he is still out there. I came back, foolishly thinking to protect you, but I see you have your brothers who will do that. They've done a fine job so far. Well, I hope Monsieur de Charbonneau finds himself a bigger sword before Loki comes back for you." <><><><><> <> He was still alive! She'd hoped that the presence of the other, the Nemesis, had indicated that M. Roche was dead, and that she at least only had to worry about one of them. The dismay and fear upon her face at this news is clearly visible. "Tim," she looks around for the boy, "why don't you and your friends go on ahead with Valentine. He needs a doctor. Cym," she holds up her tied hands from behind her back, "untie me, please." Titania regards the immortal curiously. Cymbeline would never survive Mr Roche. Not that she didn't have faith in her brother, but he *was* only mortal. Could this immortal be speakling the truth? Had he come back to protect her? It sounded preposterous. "If you were in my place, would *you* automatically assume that it was protection you offer?" She raises a dubious eyebrow at him. "And you are- what?- offended because I believe you wish to kill me? How could it be otherwise? And so, Sir, if it was truly the wish to protect me that prompted your turning back, than you will not give up at the first sign of my doubt. Is it truly so, Sir? Will you give me your word? I," she stumbles over her words, suddenly feeling so , very, very tired, "I would have my life spared as well as my brothers and friends if I could." <><><><><> [GM] Valentine would probably protest if he could, but the boys carrying him are only too glad to get away from this sinister swordsman looming over them. Tim is also borne away, with a backwards glance at you. Cym remains, eying the other immortal warily as he steps behind you and saws through the ropes around your wrists with his sword. You didn't really realize how tightly they were tied until you feel the rush of circulation flowing back into your hands. It hurts at first, and then feels very good. The big man stares down at you, seems to be thinking over your words. "Aye, I suppose with Loki being the first immortal you met, you've had your mind all twisted about and can't tell the truth from lies. Loki does that." "What is this about immortals?" Cym interrupts, putting his hands on your shoulders and standing behind you, trying to be a protective presence, though even he realizes by now that if the other man turns hostile, he probably won't be able to stop him. "And...and Loki. That's what you're calling Monsieur Roche?" The Nemesis glances at him for a moment, and then looks back at you, ignoring Cym's questions. "I came to protect you if Loki comes back," he repeats. "I've got no reason to hurt you or your kin." His voice turns a little gentler. "That's my promise." <><><><><> <> "Well then, Sir, I most thankfully accept your offer. Will you accompany us to our home, where a doctor may be fetched? I have many questions I wish to ask you." Titania turns to her brother. "Cym, I promise to tell you all know. But for now, it must wait. Perhaps you and I should help to support Valentine. I'm sure we would fare better than the boys, and the sooner we get out of here, the better. Let us catch up to them." On her way forwards, Titania looks back at the large immortal. "Sir, do you- do you think M. Roche will still seek me?" <><><><><> [GM] The immortal nods wearily. "Aye, very well." Now you have a better opportunity to appraise this man, whom for the past few days you have known only as "the Nemesis". You can see now that the sense of dread and imminent danger you associated with him always occurred when Roche was also in the vicinity, and you were probably unable to separate your impressions of the two men. Now that you are not terrified out of your wits and in the middle of a deadly chase, the man strikes you as being resigned and weary more than fierce and aggressive. He follows after you while you hurry to catch up with Valentine and Tim, which isn't hard since they can't move very fast. "If you were alone, you would be in danger from him, yes." "She will not be alone!" Cym says vehemently, clutching your hand. "Never again!" "I mean-" The other man glances at your brother, and sighs. He is silent for a few more steps, then takes a new tack. "Loki...who may call himself Roche now, but his name is Loki- is a craven coward. He knows that in anything like a fair fight, I would kill him, so when he's not able to trick me or ambush me, he flees. Thus has it been for..." he sighs. "Centuries." "His gambit here failed, and I am on his trail again. So he may come round to see if you have been left vulnerable, your head for the taking, but once he realizes I am staying near you, he will give up, and flee to some other part of the world once again. And I will renew the hunt." He shakes his head. Cym looks a little dubious about having this man stay nearby as your protector, but for once he manages to hold his tongue. Concern for Valentine takes precedence. Your entire group climbs up a rusty ladder, and finally emerges into a small street in St. Paul's. This is fortunately not far from the genteel but slowly deteriorating Bloomsbury neighborhood where Cymbeline and Valentine live, though quite a ways from the townhouse he was putting you up in. Given Valentine's condition, he elects to go directly to their apartment, even if it risks exposing your posthumous presence in London. The lot of you- Cymbeline, a badly wounded Valentine, you and your nameless "protector", Tim, and half a dozen other boys- make a strange sight. Fortunately, not many people are out at night, but those that are will certainly tell stories in the morning. It doesn't help that you are all coated with the foulest muck and smell exactly like what you've been wading through. You and Cymbeline take over carrying Valentine. You don't like the feeling you're getting from him at all. A cold hand is beginning to close its fingers around your heart. For several blocks, you shamble along, and at the stairs leading up to your brothers' bachelor's apartments, Cym says "I had best run to get a doctor....I doubt any of these urchins would be successful in persuading a physician to come with them." He looks up at the tall immortal apprehensively. It goes against all conventions, and his own better judgment, to leave his sister practically alone with this stranger in his apartment. The big man looks down at him. "You'd better hurry," he says. "Your brother is dying." <><><><><> <> "Oh yes, Cym, you had better hurry. It will be okay." She manages a reassuring smile for him. Titania looks up at the immortal. "Will you help me carry my brother up the stairs?" Once this is accomplished, she scans quickly for a bedroom and has Valentine placed in a bed. She looks at her brother for a moment, muttering raggedly under her breath, "I will never forgive myself if he dies. As if she had expelled some inner demon with these words, Titania suddenly becomes all practicality and business. She must push her emotions away for the time being. "You, you, and you," she points to a few of the boys, "see if you can fecth some water from somewhere. There must be a well or a pump of some sort, probably around the kitchen. Fill a pot and set it to boil." Didn't doctors always need hot water? "And try to bring a bucket here. We need to bathe his wound." She really had no idea what one did for wounds. But she knew that one must clean it and stop the flow of blood. Titania examines her brother's wounds, ripping open his shirt to look at his chest. "Don't worry, Val," she whispers to him (if he's still conscious), "you'll be okay. Doctor's on his way." Using the bed linens, she attempts to staunch the flow by pressing on the wound. She looks up at the other immortal in the room. "So then M Roche- Loki, is probably long gone, then?" she asks hopefully. "What *is* your name, Sir? Loki only referred to you as 'the brainless oaf'." <><><><><> [GM] "Don' worry, we'll look after Miss Titania," Tim says. Cym glances at the boy, and sighs, then hurries away. The immortal complies, not just helping you but carrying Valentine all by himself, with ease. In the apartments, he lays him down in the bed you indicate. The boys scurry around, trying to follow your directions. Eventually they manage to start a fire and begin heating some water. Valentine is conscious, barely. His face is pale, and the front of the immortal's shirt is soaked with blood from carrying him. "I'm not...sure about that, Titania," he whispers in response to your reassurances. He manages a faltering smile. "But it's all right....you're safe...." The immortal leans over you, looking at Cym's bloody chest, and the slash that opened his face. "I never learned healing," he sighs. "But I know wounds. That's a bad one." You'd have to agree, though you wish he wouldn't say so right in front of Valentine. The facial wound is probably survivable, though Valentine must be in excruciating pain, and he'll be scarred for life, and not just with one of those elegant dueling scars that women swoon over. The small puncture wound in his chest, however, is much more worrisome. It's close to his heart, and blood just keeps flowing out of it in a steady trickle, welling up as fast as you can press down on it. Your reassurances are doing nothing to banish the cold dread you feel. Your new friend frowns. "Brainless oaf," he repeats. "Well, I may not be as smart as him, but who's been running from who for a thousand years?" "My name's Donner. Donner Spinrad, I call myself now." <><><><><> <> "He *will* live," Titania replies defensively to Mr Spinrad's remark on Valentine's wound. Rather as if by convincing him, she was trying to convince herself. She looks up at him over her brother. "Well, Mr Spinrad, intelligence or nay, I like you *much* better than Mr Roche- even if you are much scarier looking," she adds with her customary candidness. "I was so sure that you wanted to kill me that night. Did you? I won't mind if you say yes- as long as you don't want to any longer." Titania gives him a weak smile before remembering something. "Do you think we should get Valentine some brandy? To dull the pain. When Count Udolpho was pushed out the window by the castle ghost (who was actually poor, mad Mrs. Crenshaw), the doctor gave him brandy." She looks at him for his opinion. <><><><><> [GM] Mr. Spinrad frowns for a moment. "Oh. Then. No, I didn't want to kill *you*. I just sensed another Immortal, and didn't know who you were. I certainly didn't know you were a fledgling. Of course when I realized what Loki was up to, I knew you must be. That's his favorite trick, using fledglings or women, and especially both, as bait." He frowns at you and says "You should have run when I told you to, in the tunnels." Valentine is watching the two of you; you're not sure how much of the conversation he is really following. But Donner glances at him and says "Well....like I said, I don't know much about medicine and healing. But I don't suppose brandy could hurt." Then he frowns again and looks down at you. "Who is Count Udolpho?" "Some brandy....would be nice," Val coughs. Tim has come and seated himself next to you by Valentine's bed. He looks from you, to Donner, to Valentine, anxiously. "I'll fetch it, if you tell me where it is," he says, but he still looks a bit shaky himself. The other boys are gathering around, one chiming in "We got the water boilin', yer Ladyship." <><><><><> <> She smiles at the boy's information. "Thank you very much. You've all been such a help. Tim, you stay where you are," she frowns fiercely at the boy. "You're still not recovered and I won't have you injuring yourself further." She looks towards Tim's friends and smiles. "I'm sure one of you can be persuaded to fetch some brandy, can't you? I- I'd hate to leave Valentine just now. I imagine they keep their brandy in the library." Titania turns to Mr Spinrad. "My hands were tied behind my back, my mouth gagged, and the only place I had to go was to jump in the water," she says a bit defensively before sighing and answering his second question. "Count Udolpho," she says as if amazed that he didn't know, "the Count from _The Mysteries of Udolpho_? By Mrs Radcliffe? It's only her very best novel, well, after _The Italian_. Don't you read?" she asks, not meaning it as an insult. Meanwhile, she still does what little she can with Valentine's wound. <><><><><> [GM] "'Course I can read," Donner says, a little defensively. "Pretty well." "I didn't learn until about a hunnert' years ago," he adds. "Just 'cause it seems like everything is being written down nowadays. And sometimes it's hard to make out how people put their thoughts down..." he frowns. "Maybe 'cause I spent so long not reading, it's hard to cypher this modern speech. Anyway, never saw much point in reading some made- up story. If you want a made-up story, why not TELL it? Who's going to spend all that time writing something that isn't real?" One of the boys brings back a bottle of brandy, amd Valentine drinks gratefully, then coughs. You know it now, as well as Donner does....Valentine is dying. As if sensing your concern, and the feelings you are holding in check, Donner says "He done it again. Loki....he's left a trail of bodies, and grieving widows and mothers and daughters, fathers and sons...and husbands." His jaw clenches tightly. "And I ain't been able to stop him, in a thousand years. The bastard always outsmarts or outruns me. Just let me get my hands around his neck once..." and he holds out his huge hands, hands which undoubtedly could wring the life out of somebody in an instant. Then they drop to his sides, and he sighs. You hear footsteps on the stairs, and Cymbeline comes rushing up, followed by a panting, flushed man with a physician's bag. He looks around in disgust and dismay, at all the ragged street urchins, and the lot of you, still covered with filth from the sewers. With difficulty, he proceeds over to Valentine, after a nervous glance at Donner, and opens his bag. "Dueling is illegal," he says, a bit haughtily, shaking his head, and then begins inspecting your brother's wounds. Meanwhile Cymbeline walks around to kneel next to you, and put an arm around your waist, holding onto you for comfort. You can see the suppressed pain and anger in his eyes, and can almost hear him thinking, *Tybalt*. <><><><><> <> She tries valiently to hide her breaking heart. Unfortunately, Titania can't help the tears forming at the corner of her dark eyes. She leans into Cym, seeking to give comfort, and recieve it. "Have you ever tried," she asks Mr Spinrad in a distant, far away voice, "teaming up with another immortal?" Deep in thought, she adds, "They do say that two heads are better than one." <><><><><> [GM] "Team up?" Donner says. "Well, I'm not the only one Loki has crossed over the years. There's plenty of others besides me that want his head. I've never actually hunted him *with* someone else, if that's what you mean." The doctor is giving you some very strange looks, as are some of the boys, though having seen part of what transpired down in the tunnels, and being younger, they may be more prepared to accept talk about immortals. It's Cymbeline who actually lays a finger across your lips, and glances at Mr. Spinrad. "Later for that," he says quietly in French. He will certainly have plenty of questions later...but right now, Valentine is the only thing that matters. The younger of your surviving brothers looks weak and fragile. His eyes stare unfocused at the ceiling. The doctor shakes his head and murmurs "The wound is too close to the heart...there is nothing I can do." "Non," Cymbeline whispers, in a choked voice, squeezing you hard, one hand clenched tightly around your fingers. "Non, Valentine, not you too..." Tears begin to streak down his cheeks, as he leans forward and kneels next to Valentine. "Please, Dear God, you cannot allow this!" Valentine reaches a hand out and whispers "Titania." When you come closer, he swallows and says "Don't cry, dear sister. God gave you back to us....if He must therefore take me instead, it is a price I will pay gladly." He squeezes your hand, though not as strongly as Cymbeline. "Take care of Cym....he blames himself for not saving Tybalt....don't let him blame himself for me." "I love you..." He dies. <><><><><> <> "Non, non," she shakes her head, her denials coming out in a ragged whisper. A strangled sob escapes her as she clutches Valentine's lifeless hand- as if she might drag him back from the dead. She stares at him, though she barely sees him through the haze of grief and silent tears streaming from her eyes. "Valentine." Titania leans against Cymbeline, putting one arm around him while still holding her dead brother's hand with the other. <><><><><> [GM] Cymbeline has all but crumpled, sobbing even harder than you. You can feel his grief and guilt radiating from him, threatening to overwhelm him. The two of you grieve for an indefinite period of time. Valentine lies there, still and cold. Eventually, Cymbeline begins murmuring self- recriminations; "I should not have brought Valentine with me....I should have stood in that madman's path instead....if I'd been faster drawing my own sword-" "You'd have died too." Donner is standing behind the two of you. "I paid the doctor," he adds, looking fidgety and uncomfortable now. The doctor has indeed left, you now notice. Tim's friends are standing silently in one corner, watching the tragic scene, while Tim sits in the same spot, near you, watching with solemn, dry eyes. Mr. Spinrad clears his throat. "'Bout a thousand years ago, it was, Loki killed my wife. I've never stopped missing her. But your loved ones die. Even if you're mortal, that happens." He shuffles his big feet, obviously not a man accustomed to offering words of comfort. "Anyway, I'd like to get cleaned up. I don't want to wander too far, because Loki could still be around." Cymbeline looks up, and Spinrad says "Boy, don't you even think of crossing him if you see him, or your sister will lose another brother." "But me, he won't risk a second clash with, not this soon, after he lost the advantage he had. So I'll stay near to watch Titania." Cym's red- rimmed eyes now fix on the taller man, silently rebuking him for referring to you so familiarly. Spinrad doesn't seem to notice. "You two'll want to clean up too, I imagine, and maybe you'd best talk to your brother, and do something about all these children." He gestures. "I'll be downstairs. I saw a pump, I'll clean up there." He clomps off towards the stairs. <><><><><> <> "Oh, Cym, Cym," she says after Mr Spinrad leaves, "don't blame yourself." If it was anyone's fault, it was hers. "Mr Spinrad's right, there's nothing you could have done. And- and, if it wasn't for you, I'd be dead, truly dead." And Valentine would be alive. "Oh, mon frére, you cannot save everyone. There are some things that are even out of your control." Trying very hard not to cry for Cym's sake, she squeezes her brother's hand. "Oh, chéri.." <><><><><> [GM] Cym sits there, trembling, struggling with the sobs that are trying to escape from him. "Yes," he whispers bitterly. "There is much that is out of my control." He stares at Valentine's lifeless, still-warm body. Eventually he says, in a spiritless tone, "We should clean up. You...you can wash first. I will try to make our brother a little presentable before...before sending for a priest." His voice chokes. "He did not get last rites!" <><><><><> <> Trying to focus upon the little things, so that she might not dwell upon poor Valentine was not very easy. But, still, she tried. With a gentle squeeze for Cym, she follows his advice, and goes searching for some water to wash up with. "Do you have some clean clothes I might borrow?" she asks. <><><><><> [GM] Cym sighs. "No women's clothing, I'm afraid. I suppose...one of my nightshirts and a robe will have to do, until we can fetch a dress for you." The two of you go about cleaning up. It takes all the soap Cym had in their apartment to scrub the stench of the sewers off of you. Meanwhile, the boys just try to stay out of the way....a few of them have slipped away already, but a couple others remain, along with Tim. Cym comments, as he makes a half-hearted effort to mop up the puddles of filthy water tracked into the apartment, "Somehow I am going to have to produce some money for them...I rather promised a reward for their help...and they did earn it." The buzzing in your skull has been a constant reminder that Donner is still near. He only reenters the apartment when the Catholic priest arrives. While the priest kneels next to Valentine and begins praying over him, before you take his body to a church, Donner sits down next to you with a heavy sigh. He had no other clothes to change into. He's much too big for either Cym's or Valentine's clothes to fit him. So apparently he just immersed his clothes in soapy water and wrung them out, cleaning them as best he could. Now they are still wet, so he looks like he just went swimming fully-dressed. He shed his heavy jacket, as it was too encrusted with muck, so he wears only a damp shirt that clings almost transparently to his chest. He seems completely indifferent. The priest is obviously disconcerted by the sight of a woman wearing a man's robe, another man looking indecently dressed and soaking wet, and an apartment that smells like a sewer had flooded it, but Valentine's body is the most disconcerting thing here, and he saves his questions until after he has performed his sacred duties. Donner holds his heavy iron sword across his lap. Even with no jacket to hide it under, he does not seem to like having it out of reach. Cym, not liking the strange man sitting so close to his sister, hovers nearby, and Tim sits down on the floor at your feet. This must present quite a spectacle to the poor priest. "I'm sorry about all this," the other immortal says. "I'm afraid many of us get an ugly introduction to what it means to be immortal. I wish it could've been different for you." Mr. Spinrad's manner of speech is plain and direct, with a sight drawl, not clearly identifiable as to region or class. No one would mistake him for gentry, however. Despite his claim of being lacking in cleverness, he's well-spoken enough. And he no longer frightens you. Even though your instincts tell you he is capable of great violence, you sense he feels obliged towards you, even protective. Cym leans close, keeping his eyes on the priest and Valentine, and says "I think you owe us some explanations, Monsieur Spinrad." His tone is harsh, almost accusatory, as he pronounces the other man's name. "What is all this about immortality? And..and Loki? Isn't that the name of some pagan deity? Why did that madman abduct my sister, if it was you he was after-" "I owe your *sister* some explanations," Donner grates. "What she chooses to tell you is her own business." He looks sideways at you. "It's usually not a good idea to let mortals know too much about us-" "Who are you to tell my sister what she should and should not tell me?" Cymbeline bursts out, causing the priest to turn around and glare at him. Fortunately, he does not seem to understand French, nor does Tim, who is just watching the three of you solemnly, concentrating as if believing he might understand you if he listens hard enough. Donner leans back in his chair. "Later for this, eh? Let's not upset your sister while we're getting ready to bury your brother." <><><><><> <> She lays a hand upon her brother's arm. "Cym, it's okay. As far as Mr Spinrad is concerned, I have nothing to fear. In fact, we owe him our lives." She turns and directs her clear gaze towards the tall immortal. "Mr Spinrad, I want my brother to know all. Not only do I want his support, but I think he *deserves* as much. Later, when the priest leaves, I would like to discuss this. And I really do wish for Cym to be present." <><><><><> [GM] Spinrad nods. "Very well," he says. He bows his head respectfully while the priest performs his rites. Finally, the priest finishes, and comes over to you and Cymbeline and offers a few words of comfort, and promises to be waiting in the church when you bring your brother's body. Obviously, the man is curious about the dreadful state of the apartment, and the fact that Valentine obviously died of violence, but he does not question you, yet. When he leaves, Donner stands and walks over to Valentine's body, and chants a few lines in German, or something that sounds like German. Then he turns and faces you. "What about these children?" he says, gesturing at the urchins. "There are things that are definitely not fit for them to hear." This of course arouses their curiousity. But Cymbeline rises and goes rummaging through the apartment, finally producing a handful of coins and distributing them to the boys. "Thank you for all your help," he says sincerely. "You...you helped save my sister's life. If I had more to give you, please believe me, I would." "'Ey, just 'member us when y'uve got more money, guv'ner," the oldest of the lads says. Then, in a slightly less chipper tone, "Awful sorry 'bout yer bruvver." He touches his cap, and gives you a little bow, before leading the others out of the apartment. He glances over his shoulder at Tim. "You comin' er wot, Tim?" Tim shakes his head, and looks at you stubbornly. "I'm stayin' with Miss Titania." Cymbeline opens his mouth, then purses his lips together. After the boys leave, Donner looks at Tim, and back at you questioningly. Then he speaks in French; "So....where should I begin? How much did Loki...Roche....tell you, if anything?"