CH 1 - An Invitation

[pringerbeam]

     "OI, you got a letter."  The clamour the bustle of morning suddenly gains clarity as you are woken from your sleep by the owner of the hostel.  The ruckus of the several dozen residents getting ready to take on the fresh day serves as background noise as the man standing over your meager bed once again speaks.  "Letter came for you just a bit ago.  Looks pretty fancy.  You piss off the gentry?"  The owner of the hostel flashed a quick smile at this before tossing the letter onto your bed and unceremoniously taking his leave.  There now lies at the foot of your bed a clean cut envelope made of decent quality paper and sealed with red wax and a coat of arms.  Written on its surface: To Jason Elric Lord

[Mysticsage]

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he sat up feeling groggy before turning his attention to the then leaving man and the envelope now sitting on his chest. He didn't recognize the seal nor had he told anyone that he had rented a room the last few nights to get out of the cold. He had not gone out looking for trouble in months and he doubted anyone he might have had a drunken brawl with in some rundown pub had a coat of arms. He stuffed the letter in his fraying trousers and headed to a nearby water bucket. With the bathrooms so few in this place  people had a number of cold washing up buckets around for various needs.

He stared at his own reflection a ritual that had become his newest daily obssession since hew had found out the general idea behind his curse from Constantine. Nothing seemed different at first glance same shoulder lank dark hair along with his now paling complexion.  Something that he reassured himself was from weeks of not having a solid meal and not some affect of hidden magicks. All told he seemed perfectly human, and in that moment jace was all to happy he did not have enough to his name to own a mirror for it might be the death of him.

With his morning ritual done he headed out grabbing what food he could either from the hostel or a nearby stall for scraps and then headed out to find a spot where the light made its way through the sky for better reading. Once he had found a space somewhat out of the way he dug the letter out and popped the seal.

[pringerbeam]

     The spring weather is clear and sunny, if only because the fires of industry have yet to be fully stoked this early in the morning, and clear enough to easily make out the contents of the envelope.  The letter contained within the envelope is simple.  In the center of the field of the page there is a short message:  Mr Jason Elrik Lord, You are cordially invited to attend an audience with Lord Blackblade at his London residence at three o'clock on this afternoon.

[Mysticsage]

Jace blinked as he stared at the letter. He then looked at himself in his worn clothes that were only a few step above rags and nearly broke into laughter. The idea of going to some noble's house let alone an unknown persons house who could very well be a trap of some kind of trap seemed insane. But as he stood there out on the streets thinking about his future prospects for the day and his future he had to admit he was curious. He couldn't be sure if it was his time without stable work and living or if the curse was subtly poking that bestial part of his brain, but if he wanted to change his current path he could not afford to shun any real opportunity.

"Fuck it Jace are you a man or a dog? The worst thing that could happen is that you end up dead right and at least you'd still be human." He knew very well deep down that there were obviously far worse fates for him then death the least of which becoming some kind of side show exhibit. But he refused to allow those fears to get to him in that moment he could not afford to wallow in his own nightmares and he was to much of a superstitious man and a coward to try and end things on his terms. So he would need to play the hand he had been dealt.

Like a gambler who had bet his entire worth on one hand he stuffed the letter into his pocket careful not to lose it in case he needed it later he walked off. He didn't have any odd jobs to do today so he was simply passing the time aimlessly to around the appointed time that he would arrive to the address on the envelope on foot.

[pringerbeam]

     You find yourself in a very well to do part of town.  The rows of townhouses are both tall and wide, with impecably maintained facades.  Wealthy folk stroll down the street with the typical upturned posture of the high class, occassionally casting a pence or two to the occasinal beggar. but otherwise continuing on with a complete obliviousness of anyone other than those of similar station.  The beggars are few and well behaved, though they eye you and your poor dress with a territorial wariness.  Their hostility is kept in check by the occasional openly patrolling constable, who gives you a look of careful scrutiny at seeing what they also consider a new beggar on the street.  Finally you arrive at the appointed address, where the looming stone and brick construction stands flanking a heavy oak door.  A brass knocker with the shape of a stag's head gazes at you from the middle of the wide door.

[Mysticsage]

He felt as out of place in this neighborhood as the looks he was getting from other people. He made sure he was keeping his head down and as invisible as possible with this isolated world. When he got to the door in question he stopped for a moment and stared at the knocker. It felt somehow menacing to him in that moment despite its regal barring,"Alright, Jason don't back out now. He furrowed his brow and worked up his courage. He grabbed the stag firmly and purposely gave two solid knocks before stepping back and giving the door space to open. His hand was shacking but he wasn't letting that fear sit in his gut for long as he clenched a fist. He felt just how thin his clothes were becoming as he felt a light wind against his skin leaving him vulnerable.

[pringerbeam]

     The door is opened by the large, gloved hands of an ogre dressed in a dapper butler's uniform.  Short for an ogre, the manservant still towers over you with the default neutral expression and ruler straight posture of a professional servant.  The butler's eyes scan up and down your figure as he takes a moment to examine you.  His expression flickers ever so slightly with distaste before returning to its stone-like default.  "I would have you know vagrant that there are constables within earshot and that if you do not remove yourself from this lordship's property I will have you taken away.  Now begone with you, the Lord Blackblade is expecting guests and I would have you gone before they arrive."

[Mysticsage]

Jace grimaced he knew he looked like some overage newsie with his hair tied back in a short ponytail and his clothes were a complete mess, but he had come there for a reason. Despite some part of his mind wanted him to simply apologize and turn away  never to return he stood his ground. Taking a small breath he spoke in his light well read accent "I was invited friend." He dug through his pants to produce the letter once more. "My name is Jason Lord. His lordship should be expecting me. Though I cannot see I remember meeting him." He shoved the note into the butler's hand. "Can we at least move this inside I'm not one for stares."

[pringerbeam]

     Yet again the butler's facade breaks for but a fraction of a second into a look of horror before resuming it's bland gaze as he examined the letter.  He then swiftly pocketed the letter, seemingly assured of its authenticity, before speaking again  "I see, I apoligize for my rudeness mister Lord, I had mistakenly assumed from your name you would have been one of... different attire..."  With this backhanded apology the butler pulled the door open to its widest, stepping to the side and motioning with his hand as he bowed his head.  "If you would be so inclined to come off the street mister Lord.  His Lordship is awaiting you"  Despite maintaining his composure, the butler seemed unnerved as his eyes continue to dart quickly to the street and the socialites watching the new local gossip story unfolding before their eyes as they walk down the street.  "His Lordship is in the ground floor parlor, the second to last door on the right."

[Mysticsage]

Walking in Jason wanted to tap the ogre on the shoulder but stopped short. Saying that he would not want to be seen like this either didn't really seem to cover it. He didn't blame the butler for his dirty looks he felt the same way if he was the one to have seen what he had become. But so far he had maintained being himself this far and that was worth more to him at the moment then a bit of dignity he may lose. However, it was his appearance and the fact that he was not wearing socks that he did not stop to ask and see if he should take his shoes off before following deeper into the home. He had not hat or jacket to take off at the moment his one good piece of clothes squirreled away in Constantine's office.

He ran his hand through his hair in a fruitless effort to seem more presentable. When he made his way to the the door in question he knocked once and then moved to open the door. "Lord Blackblade, I'm Jason Lord you sent for me by name?" He was acting cautiously at this point worrying that he was being used on some noble man's whim. Plus his own personal history ensured that he was a little afraid that he might be ending up with another curse by the end of the night.

[pringerbeam]

     The hallway is well furnished and its dark wood paneled walls display many paintings and tapestries.  The parlor is much the same.  Soft lamps light the windowless room with a warm feel.  An unattended billiards table off to one end, and a fireplace at the other.  Above the fireplace is displayed a coat of arms, the very same coat of arms on the letter you recieved, and underneath it a massive sword made of black iron rests upon the mantle.  It is before this fireplace that several large leather chairs sit, each easily able to sit an ogre in great comfort.  Indeed, this is what you find sitting in one of the chairs.  An ogre, both wide and tall even by the standards of their subrace sits smoking a large pipe which rests under a large waxed moustache.  He absentmindedly twirls his moustache, grey with age, until hearing you announce yourself at which point he rises from his chair with about as much speed as his paunchy belly would allow.  "Ah mister Lord, I'm glad to finally meet you face to face.  I am Lord Erik Blackblade of Lancaster.  I'm glad that you accepted my invitation.  Come, sit, we have much to discuss."  He returns to his seat and motions for you to choose one of the other seats arrayed around the fireplace.

[Mysticsage]

Jace was surprised to see a man of this stature greeting him. The social norms of someone of his breeding being so high up in the social structure was not usual. Not that it was completely unheard of nor did he have any particular issues with it beyond the initial shock growing up in an orphanage you learned to see past things like breeding. "It is my pleasure sir, but you will have to forgive, but I am unfamiliar with your name Lordship. I'm not much better then a work hand, and I would remember if a gentleman like yourself had inquired about me before now. Is there something specific you wished to see me for your Lordship?" He moved into the room slowly feeling less likely that this was a trap.

As he got closer he took in Lord Blackblade and this parlor in full. He had never been in a house this nice before, and felt defiantly out of place as he found himself sitting in one of the oversized leather chairs. For him it felt more like a throne his feet almost not touching the ground. Turning to face the other man again he waited for a response hoping to read any kind of hostile intent incase he needed to try and grab that blade on the mantle to attempt to escape.

[pringerbeam]

     "Ah, yes, I suppose you wouldn't have heard of me."  The Lord leaned back into his chair and puffed a little on his pipe.  "You see, that is somewhat by design.  My lineage has tried to keep itself obscure as a force of habit as those of... my breeding... tend to be unherd of as a member of the peerage.  As such, in order to minimize scandal my family has tried to keep our faces and names obscure."  He let out a cloud of smoke before continuing.  "So it has become a habit of mine to stay out of sight and deal in business by proxy or pseudonym.  As such you would never have known me by name.  But I did attend the resteraunt where you worked, or at least I was a patron.  I tended to send Carlson in my stead and eat the meal in the comfort of my own home.  Speaking of which..." At this the Lord reached over to a side table and delicately lifted a bell which he rang.  Almost instantly the butler appeared between two of the chairs.  "Yes m'lord?"  He asked.  "Tea for myself and our guest Carlson."  Spoke the lord as he set the bell back down.  "Yes m'lord."  Replied the butler before he silently withdrew.  "Anyways," continued the lord.  "Because of my patronage of your resteraunt I was quite privey to the scandal with resulted in your removal.  I mean, such a scene made by a mysterious noble of unknown origin?  I likely would have heard the tale even if I wasn't particular to the sauteed goose hearts from the resteraunt.  Irregardless, their loss is my gain."  He took a long drag on his pipe.  "Which now bring us to why I have asked you here.  You see, while I maintain a level of secrecy, I am at heart a dutiful lord.  Unlike many of my peers, I am not merely content with sitting upon the wealth of my station like an ancient dragon hoarding gold.  The empire is in peril.  The war in Crimea wages on still, the colonies are unstable, maelificous forces lurck the shadows, communists!  I fear that something needs to be done to keep the empire together and as such have decided to be one who stands to maintain the order.  It is in my blood to do what's right."  He withdrew his pipe and pointed its mouthpiece to the crest over the fireplace and the script underneath the heraldry.  "Fractum est Rigidum.  Broken reforged.  The motto of my house.  My house earned its title defending the king beyond the duties of a simple servant, and that is how I intend to comport myself... I need good men.  Men willing to walk the shadows and ferret out what lies there.  I need you, to start.  I'm inviting you to help me found a society that will work in secret to work for queen and country.  So..."  He leaned back in his chair and returned the pipe to its home between his lips.  "What do you think?"

[Mysticsage]

Jace was taken aback by the offer, he was wildest imagining had been that this was his one opportunity to get in front of a stove again, but to help create create what sounded to be a secret police force sounded insane. That trepidation was evident in his voice when he finally spoke, "Sir, I commend you on your commitment to your duty, but I doubt I'm much good to you in the shadows. As you are aware disgraced cooks in this city are not known for their sleuthing or combat abilities."

He paused for a moment longer before continuing more cautiously, "What's more there is some details of my disgrace that his lordship might be unaware of. From what I've gathered that noblewoman has a cruel strike. She cursed me for her displeasure, some esoteric power now hidden in my body. Currently I've managed to keep it dormant. But if what I've learned is true I could be turning into some horrific monstrosity that your lordship rightly would see as a threat with each passing day.  I fear that this particular man is too broken to be reforged. I would not want to put your name or dreams at risk with actions which could increasingly grow out of my control."

He ran his hands through his hair yet again refusing to look the man in his eyes. He was the first person outside of Constantine he had told and he did not want to see the look of pity or disgust he assumed would be there. "I do know a curious PI who might find your endeavor of interest if you would like his place of living so that this was not a waste for you."

[pringerbeam]

      "I can see why you would be afraid.  I once led a regiment back out in the orient.  I know the look of a fresh recruit in an unfamiliar land so let me tell you a short story.  You see that sword upon the mantle?"  He nods to the hearth.  "My forefather was nothing but a simple blacksmith's slave.  But in the midst of a war his master was killed, and from the shattered scraps of a bloody battle, he forged that sword and set out to do something he saved his king who was fleeing a rout.  You see, it doesn't take a knight to slay a dragon, just a man like you or I." He took another drag on his pipe.  "Tell me, if you so fear what you will become with your curse, what are you going to do about it?  Simply hide away and let the maelificum eat away at you?  This is your chance.  Those who weild such baleful powers need to be stopped.  Or would you let others succumb to a similar fate because you stood idly by.  Pick up the pieces.  Make those fragments into a sword of your own."