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unfinishedlibrary2026-02-25 09:16 am
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2026-02-25 09:16 am
rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, the numbers of the feared.
Who: Readers and Actors!
What: The aftermath of the Masquerade Night, the discovery of bad faith actors, and the repercussions of mischief. And the answer to a burning question: if all of Montica’s vampires were at the ball, who exactly was picking fights with werewolves out on the streets?
When: The week following the Masquerade, including the morning after the ball. [ooc timeline: 24th Feb - 13th March]
Where: The city of Montica, the sewers, and the woods on the outskirts of town.
Content warnings: Some bloodiness can be assumed, but please note specific content warnings in your tags. If your description of blood/violence will be more than a passing mention, give a heads up.
Due to the malleable nature of time, it will be the Waxing Gibbous Moon for a few days longer. The Full Moon has been postponed until Log 4.
Rumours are strange things. Some spring from nowhere, popping up like weeds through concrete. Others worm their way up from fragments of truth, growing wildly and twisting the reality at their core.
Like its loyalties, Montica is split into two (–arguably three) schools of rumours following the night of the ball. The gossip flows easily and steadily, and is just as often as wrong as it is right.
But there are two things to keep in mind with this kind of gossip:
The first is that it doesn’t matter if it’s right. Some things just stick. Whatever makes a good story is what will hang around.
And the second thing? Sometimes, it is true.
The first set of rumours are from the high-class in Montica. There's gossip aplenty around anyone who managed to speak to any of the vampiric elite, and those foreigners in Montica may find themselves suddenly popular with the families who are trying to climb the social ladder. Then there's the talk about the others at the ball - who drank too much, who snuck into a private room, whose performances were most favoured. In particular, there's a rumour that one of the performers may have a secret twin - though the persisting argument is that she’s just incredibly skilled at quick outfit changes. Those interested in politicking and gossip seem fixated on the idea that certain people seemed rather close at the ball, and they and are keenly interested in confirming who they are. If the speculation turns out to be true, then maybe there really is hope for a peaceful resolution to Montica’s feud.
But not all rumours are so hopeful.
There are those whose homes were targeted while they were dancing the night away. Frustration and anger drives their accusations and desire to find who exactly vandalised their homes - though more than a few of them are confused by the faint burn marks and charcoal left behind that appear vaguely garlic-shaped. Gossip here seems to range between vitriolic (those determined to hunt down the perpetrators) and the cautious (those who found evidence of someone having intervened). But they are closely aligned in their thoughts: they want retribution or revenge for the slights against them.
In the quiet of the neutral zone, it seems some keen-eyed witnesses saw at least one blood-covered guest wandering the streets in a daze. Whispers abound about whether the vampires mean to hold to their pacts, and the neutral population of Montica seem to be experiencing some sort of renewal of their religious beliefs - if the sudden increase of crucifixes is anything to go by.
Likewise, there are not-so-hushed whispers that the vampires were not the only ones taking a bite last night. There are accusations that the coming full moon will bring with it some brand-new transformations, unless those bitten can get their hands on the remedy for lycanthropy. With the full moon looming close, they don’t have much time at all to find one.
An even darker rumour weaves throughout these. There are people who haven’t been seen since that night. The morning after the ball, it’s assumed that they’re holed up somewhere with a hangover. But by the third day after the festivities, the grapevine is convinced they’ve been kidnapped - or worse.
Shops in the neutral zone seem to be on high alert, the people there seemingly less willing than usual to keep their stalls open past sunset. The usual bustle of the market is subdued, and as the week drags on, more and more citizens seem to take to carrying protective measures against both the lycans and the vampires.
There's a murmur throughout the populace. Mythical creatures have been sighted, among them a Nue - and there are some who are making their concerns about this well-known. If something isn't done to calm their fears, the threat of revolution is clear.
Of course, there’s damage to both sides as well. Garlic has mysteriously found its way into the vampires’ district, causing discomfort to many as they try to root it out, while the Guildulf household has seen better days, made all the more potent by their leader’s injury. There is an opportunity in this: the people could work together and help each other out, and prioritizing the neutral district would go a long way in helping mend fences (metaphorical and literal). But is there the incentive to do so? Especially since…
However, the city isn't strictly under Umbran control - and there are some who balk at the idea of leaving the search to them. Particularly around the Laurelthirst, some hardy werewolves are rounding up a crew of tough adventurers to strike out in their own search party. They intend to strike out into the woods that surround Montica, and since they aren’t hampered by daylight, they’re determined to head out the moment they have enough people.
Of all the visitors to Montica, not a few of them are adventurers themselves. Parties are being formed, some of which are determined to track the supposed mythical creatures rather than any missing person. While it’s wise to stick with one of the larger groups, there is nothing stopping anyone from taking a shot at it on their own.
Those who investigate the maze of the sewers in small groups will feel a sense of dread creeping upon them the further they go. Torches splutter and die, leaving them facing just a pair of glowing red eyes. Those who travel in large groups will find… nothing. Only traces of creatures who seem to have scattered at their approach, disappearing quickly into side-passages.
And of all of those people who explore the sewers, those who have pliable minds will find themselves hypnotised. Perhaps they’re about to become food, or be turned into a vampire themselves. Perhaps they’re being given orders to turn against each-other, or are being lured to the woods. Either way, they’ve had the misfortune of stumbling into a vampiric vanguard - a group of scouts skilled in mind games and illusions, who are more than determined to clear a way past that very blocked door.
Some determined trackers are keen to set up a camp for the night and see it through. Others plead caution and turn back to the city - though anyone trying to leave won’t get far from the fireside before a feeling of being watched sets in. The further they go, the more likely it is that the feeling of being watched very quickly turns to the feeling of being hunted.
More bats than owls seem to live here. They hang from every tree, their eyes seeming to glow under the moonlight. And they seem… hungry.
At night, any solo travelers will be quickly swarmed by bats, their leathery wings and sharp claws striking recklessly as they dive onto their target. Some with incredible aim may even latch tiny fangs onto exposed skin, leaving bite marks that will bleed profusely despite the small size of the wounds. It seems it's better to stay with the group for now, unless someone can come up with a plan.
What: The aftermath of the Masquerade Night, the discovery of bad faith actors, and the repercussions of mischief. And the answer to a burning question: if all of Montica’s vampires were at the ball, who exactly was picking fights with werewolves out on the streets?
When: The week following the Masquerade, including the morning after the ball. [ooc timeline: 24th Feb - 13th March]
Where: The city of Montica, the sewers, and the woods on the outskirts of town.
Content warnings: Some bloodiness can be assumed, but please note specific content warnings in your tags. If your description of blood/violence will be more than a passing mention, give a heads up.
Due to the malleable nature of time, it will be the Waxing Gibbous Moon for a few days longer. The Full Moon has been postponed until Log 4.
Rumours are strange things. Some spring from nowhere, popping up like weeds through concrete. Others worm their way up from fragments of truth, growing wildly and twisting the reality at their core.
Like its loyalties, Montica is split into two (–arguably three) schools of rumours following the night of the ball. The gossip flows easily and steadily, and is just as often as wrong as it is right.
But there are two things to keep in mind with this kind of gossip:
The first is that it doesn’t matter if it’s right. Some things just stick. Whatever makes a good story is what will hang around.
And the second thing? Sometimes, it is true.
The first set of rumours are from the high-class in Montica. There's gossip aplenty around anyone who managed to speak to any of the vampiric elite, and those foreigners in Montica may find themselves suddenly popular with the families who are trying to climb the social ladder. Then there's the talk about the others at the ball - who drank too much, who snuck into a private room, whose performances were most favoured. In particular, there's a rumour that one of the performers may have a secret twin - though the persisting argument is that she’s just incredibly skilled at quick outfit changes. Those interested in politicking and gossip seem fixated on the idea that certain people seemed rather close at the ball, and they and are keenly interested in confirming who they are. If the speculation turns out to be true, then maybe there really is hope for a peaceful resolution to Montica’s feud.
But not all rumours are so hopeful.
There are those whose homes were targeted while they were dancing the night away. Frustration and anger drives their accusations and desire to find who exactly vandalised their homes - though more than a few of them are confused by the faint burn marks and charcoal left behind that appear vaguely garlic-shaped. Gossip here seems to range between vitriolic (those determined to hunt down the perpetrators) and the cautious (those who found evidence of someone having intervened). But they are closely aligned in their thoughts: they want retribution or revenge for the slights against them.
In the quiet of the neutral zone, it seems some keen-eyed witnesses saw at least one blood-covered guest wandering the streets in a daze. Whispers abound about whether the vampires mean to hold to their pacts, and the neutral population of Montica seem to be experiencing some sort of renewal of their religious beliefs - if the sudden increase of crucifixes is anything to go by.
Likewise, there are not-so-hushed whispers that the vampires were not the only ones taking a bite last night. There are accusations that the coming full moon will bring with it some brand-new transformations, unless those bitten can get their hands on the remedy for lycanthropy. With the full moon looming close, they don’t have much time at all to find one.
An even darker rumour weaves throughout these. There are people who haven’t been seen since that night. The morning after the ball, it’s assumed that they’re holed up somewhere with a hangover. But by the third day after the festivities, the grapevine is convinced they’ve been kidnapped - or worse.
Shops in the neutral zone seem to be on high alert, the people there seemingly less willing than usual to keep their stalls open past sunset. The usual bustle of the market is subdued, and as the week drags on, more and more citizens seem to take to carrying protective measures against both the lycans and the vampires.
There's a murmur throughout the populace. Mythical creatures have been sighted, among them a Nue - and there are some who are making their concerns about this well-known. If something isn't done to calm their fears, the threat of revolution is clear.
In Town
After the Masquerade, the town is much more of a wreck than it was before. Unsurprisingly, the neutral zone has taken the worst of it; fences smashed, doors busted in, windows broken… few hurt, thankfully, but most of its residents are angry with both the vampires and the werewolves. The youthful wolves may have been the most visible, but there are claims that the vampires were out in force last night; and more than a handful of citizens are insistent that they saw people hypnotised – wandering away into the woods, heedless of the chaos around them.Of course, there’s damage to both sides as well. Garlic has mysteriously found its way into the vampires’ district, causing discomfort to many as they try to root it out, while the Guildulf household has seen better days, made all the more potent by their leader’s injury. There is an opportunity in this: the people could work together and help each other out, and prioritizing the neutral district would go a long way in helping mend fences (metaphorical and literal). But is there the incentive to do so? Especially since…
Missing Persons
The rumour is so convincing that a few harried-looking servants of the Umbra Clan can be seen in town, posting up flyers that seek information on the missing persons. Those with information are encouraged to attend an audience with the Umbra to relay it directly and join their city-based investigation. (Rumour has it that there’s something suspicious happening in the sewers - in the days leading up to the vampiric investigation, manholes and sewer gates will be receiving a greater amount of cautious side-eyes from the populace.)However, the city isn't strictly under Umbran control - and there are some who balk at the idea of leaving the search to them. Particularly around the Laurelthirst, some hardy werewolves are rounding up a crew of tough adventurers to strike out in their own search party. They intend to strike out into the woods that surround Montica, and since they aren’t hampered by daylight, they’re determined to head out the moment they have enough people.
Of all the visitors to Montica, not a few of them are adventurers themselves. Parties are being formed, some of which are determined to track the supposed mythical creatures rather than any missing person. While it’s wise to stick with one of the larger groups, there is nothing stopping anyone from taking a shot at it on their own.
The Sewers
Dank and foul-smelling, it’s exactly what you’d imagine a sewer to be. There are a few surprises down here. The first, as some Readers would know, is a giant of a vampire who has sought refuge down here since the Story’s start. His presence has had the unintended effect of keeping the underground entrance to the Umbra mansion secure up until now. For if you follow the sewers far enough, you find a set of long stairs that eventually leads to a crypt - one that was destroyed a long time ago, only rubble and scattered debris remaining now. The door to the Umbra mansion is made of swollen and rotting wood, held in place by wrought iron bars - and blocked by a heavy slab of stone. It isn’t advertised as being a passage to the Umbra - any text indicating who this crypt used to house appears to have been destroyed with targeted prejudice - but those who have a good sense of space will easily be able to identify where they are.Those who investigate the maze of the sewers in small groups will feel a sense of dread creeping upon them the further they go. Torches splutter and die, leaving them facing just a pair of glowing red eyes. Those who travel in large groups will find… nothing. Only traces of creatures who seem to have scattered at their approach, disappearing quickly into side-passages.
And of all of those people who explore the sewers, those who have pliable minds will find themselves hypnotised. Perhaps they’re about to become food, or be turned into a vampire themselves. Perhaps they’re being given orders to turn against each-other, or are being lured to the woods. Either way, they’ve had the misfortune of stumbling into a vampiric vanguard - a group of scouts skilled in mind games and illusions, who are more than determined to clear a way past that very blocked door.
The Woods
During the day, there are precious few tracks to be found. Trails of human footprints end abruptly amidst thick copses of trees; the scent of spilled blood disappears beneath the carrion of woodland animals. Broken branches are equally likely to be made by deer as they are to be the result of a stumbling person, and as the sun sets, it gets harder and harder to find one’s way.Some determined trackers are keen to set up a camp for the night and see it through. Others plead caution and turn back to the city - though anyone trying to leave won’t get far from the fireside before a feeling of being watched sets in. The further they go, the more likely it is that the feeling of being watched very quickly turns to the feeling of being hunted.
More bats than owls seem to live here. They hang from every tree, their eyes seeming to glow under the moonlight. And they seem… hungry.
At night, any solo travelers will be quickly swarmed by bats, their leathery wings and sharp claws striking recklessly as they dive onto their target. Some with incredible aim may even latch tiny fangs onto exposed skin, leaving bite marks that will bleed profusely despite the small size of the wounds. It seems it's better to stay with the group for now, unless someone can come up with a plan.
Nero (Nara'a) | Actor: Vampire Scion
Nero had a grand time - for the most part - at the ball. New people, new possibilities... but when he wakes up and hears some of the servants whispering about missing people, he starts to get concerned.
He can be found around the manor, moving between helping to organize the cleanup from the masquerade and quietly waiting as he listens to people gossip. Of course, if he's needed for business he's also easily found.
The rumors are clearly wearing on him, as day by day he starts to look more and more concerned. The loss of people is extremely worrying, and he knows that the power the Umbra hold, despite it being more solidified since the ball... it's still so fragile. What can he do? What can be done?
In Town
In the neutral zone, Nero flits about in the dark. He's wearing a dark cloak, though he's aware his features are still recognizable. He's doing his best to hide them, and it helps that people are less likely to be out at night these days.
He has people to check on. He has places to check on. He stays away from the werewolf side of the neutral zone, but those places that he's aware of he keeps checking. Not just once, but a few times - in these days it helps to be doubly or triply sure. He sits in dark areas, listening to the chatter...
He needs to find out what's going on. He's been told to, but there's just so much ground to cover. He needs to tap his contacts - or maybe come across some new ones.
The Guildulf Manor (later in the week) (closed to those who would be there)
He shouldn't be here. He really shouldn't be in this part of the city. He's lucky that he's young, that a lot of the old weaknesses haven't struck him yet. Even still, he's very uncomfortable as he travels through the werewolf part of town. The garlic everywhere makes him feel vaguely ill, and he's glad he got directions from someone else. A few coins can get someone to ignore his red eyes, after all. And besides, what sane vampire would risk it?
He can't fly or turn into bats yet, not at his age. But he does have the spells that Lucas has been teaching him, so he's a little more comfortable as he approaches the home. He's heard the rumors, and the scent of blood still lingers in the damaged house. He shakes his head, straightening up and trying to look more confident than he feels at the moment.
The guards at the front growl at him, but when he pulls his cloak's hood back he gets some Looks. When he says his name he gets even more.
He's escorted inside and stands around a little awkwardly. Hopefully this goes well, because his sire will have his head if he knows what he's doing...
Wildcard
[Got another idea? Grab me at my plotting comment, on the Discord, or on Plurk!]
manor!
"Oh! You're the gray-laurie! Welcome. I'm Jadis Akabane. I kn- hoped you'd come."
Jadis is a known figure. The Guildulf's "pet witch" she is known one, for her loyalty and much-gossiped-about connection to the head of the house, two, for her generosity and discretion when it comes to the sensitive medical issues of just about anyone in her outings into the city, and three, for being odd, to put it politely. A recovering madwoman.
no subject
"Nero Umbra, yes. Lady Akabane, it is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for allowing me into your home." He bows a little - not a full one, but she deserves at least some respect, given where he is. "I apologize for coming unannounced."
no subject
"Forgive my manner, young lord. This is unprecedented. To what do we owe the pleasure of your attendance?"
A strikingly herbal scent wafts through the hall. She's come up with a solution to cleaning the bloodstains and not allowing the whole house to smell like an abattoir, though some odor of bloodshed remains. Werewolf blood, if he can detect that much.
no subject
"I had heard of the attack on your house. I was concerned about you, so I decided to attempt the trek across the border." It's not untrue, at least, even if he was secretly hoping to see Sigrid. "I wanted to offer my condolences... and also see if there was information we could share. We are also chasing people, including missing people."
no subject
Jadis winces. Her trouble with names! He won't know who the 'java sparrow' is - without excusing herself she pulls out a notebook and consults a marked page. "Amalia Hunter, that's the one. Apologies. She brought this issue to our attention the other day ago. It seems werewolves have been found drained of blood, which is certainly unusual. My understanding is we don't taste very good."
'We'. Jadis is human, but she's so entangled in a werewolf household that she tends to talk like this. "Are the missing vampires?"
Manor
He drops the lumber he is holding to cross over to Nero. "You meet us at a disadvantage. This is not the hospitality you showed the other night."
no subject
He also wasn't sure if or when they ate dinner... he's glad he didn't interrupt that. It's still early in the night.
no subject
He gives a wry shrug. "My father disdain such comparison." A bit of warning: his father noted formality, but found some of it frivolous. "I can tell you what I know, but others know more--I was late to it."
no subject
He needs as much information as he can get. Is he supposed to get it here? Probably not, and yet...
no subject
"Some of the more fractious wolf packs saw an opportunity to attack, to make their move upon my father's house. The assault was...ill advised." As the smell of charred flesh, and the pinkish liquid still in the gaps of the cobblestones might indicate.
no subject
As for the wolf packs... "I see. ... I can smell the dead, but have you lost any of yours?"
no subject
Just don't ask him to explain this strange, russet one-eyed companion.
"Losses, no, thank the stars. Some injuries. It seems they picked their moment well to go after my father, when many were celebrating." With all of the vampires in Montica at the masquerade, it had felt like a 'cat's away mice will play' moment for the household staff.
no subject
He knows it can leave some shaken afterwards, depending on their temperaments. "Good. I am glad you had no losses. Injuries will heal, but there is a point where dead is dead." He taps his chest where his heart used to beat. "And for all our kinds' scuffles and fights, I do not wish that upon your kind." Being distasteful is not a death sentence, and he would prefer to resolve things with words rather than swords and claws.
He straightens up for a moment, letting his cloak shift to show that he carries no weapon, not tonight. "It is... more than unfortunate that they took an evening that should have been a lovely event and turned it into an attempt to move for power. I am certain that my lord will think that there has been little to lose from this attempt on your father's life, but I am not him." He has his own doubts about the werewolves, but he's always been the one urging gentleness where he can.
no subject
"My...companion was able to resist it, it seemed, though the three wolfblood it had attacked had not been." That was a mystery he would very much like an answer to. If there's a way to resist compulsion, he would like to know it.
"I'm sad to hear that you, too, are afflicted with underpacks who resist your authority. It seems to me that our families, if obeyed, could bring peace." If not forever then at least right now.
"My father, as far as I know, does not blame yours for the assault. Nor would he," being wolfkind, "not see the tactical advantage in his weakness." In other words, were the situation reversed, Roberte would be seeking his own advantage against the Umbrans.
Manor
He also remains outside, while Nero speaks to the people inside. But when Nero leaves, he'll find that some things are...different.
Loic is still there. Loic still stares intently at him. But now, he's in human form. He's also holding a shovel. (Likely this is why he's in human form.)
The shovel is held ominously before Nero.
Loic trusts that Nero gets the message.
no subject
... Fine. He grabs the shovel and tilts his head towards Loic. "Show me where, then. But know that it was not my people who caused this."
Arrogant, maybe. But true, at least as far as he knows.
no subject
Loic huffs, annoyed.
He shifts his body weight, imitating a familiar posture and gesture; Sigrid's. He smiles. Then points at Nero, then at his smile, before holding the shovel behind his back, and making a thumbs up.
Translation: If Sigrid is happy, they're all good.
The he frowns. Draws a line down from his eye, following the path of a tear. The brings forward the shovel again, holds his aggressively, and points from Nero to it.
Translation: If Nero makes Sigrid sad, Loic will have reason to use this shovel. So Nero had better not make her sad.
Guildulf Manor
So of course, of course now is when --
"Who?"
"The young Lord Nero Umbra, Lord Guildulf."
Sure. Why not. This may as well happen. Roberte takes a fortifying breath, sitting up and rubbing his face. Throne. Moon. How a man's life can take so many twists and turns in less than a month...
"Send him in. Let's see what he has to say."
At his word, the young vampire lord is escorted inside, to stand before the profoundly exhausted lord and father of werewolves.
"Young Umbra." His voice, his expression, is stern, but not overtly threatening. Eyes sharp and hackles raised, but not yet growling or baring his teeth. "I hope you do not come to waste my time. I have little of it to spare."
no subject
"No, ser. I have come to offer... something else. A hand, if not in friendship, then in partnership. It is well known that there those of my kind if not my clan who have caused trouble, both on this side of the city and otherwise. I have come to promise you that these vampires will be hunted down and people returned with all speed. I have also come to ask that you provide descriptions of those who may have harmed you and yours and escaped, so that we and our people can keep a watch out for them. ... And furthermore, I was... concerned about you and yours. I know I am yet young for my kind, but I have not seen such violence in my lifetime."
Maybe in the days he can barely remember, but those days practically belonged to a different person.
"... And while I doubt that you have any contact with him, know that I do not come at the request of my lord, not directly. He has asked me to gather information... but when I heard of the attack, I..." No. Don't waste time. "I have met some of your family. Despite our differences, I think we aim for the same outcome."
town