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Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Thu Sep 15, 2016 1:44 pmby AnIntimateSecret
Drizzle. It was a word the locals were familiar with. Weather from inland met with the Welsh mountains in the west. Weather from the sea rushed in over the Cheshire plains, curling around the mountains... and these climate quirks always seemed to resolve as a fine rain, gently but firmly soaking the rolling green hills. Rivers and streams curled down towards the endless farms in the distance, and the occasional burst of sunlight raised a faint mist from the drying mud... but mostly the air was wet, and the sky was grey.
The main road pushed through here, a grey-brown line cutting from Drayton to Crewe. It was a dull road... bordered by a muddy verge, lined with the tracks of hundreds of farm carts, dotted with brown puddles and grey stones. There was nothing interesting about the junction here, either... no sign, no marker, just a second half-cobbled track that split off and vanished into the nearby hills.
Following the track would... if one were accepted... abruptly lead to the town. A river ran down one side, too narrow for much more than a rowboat, but presumably deep as it fed nearby farms. The buildings were crowded together, clearly old, a melding of medieval and gothic architectural styles that seemed almost out of place in the deep country town.
The main street sliced the town in two, shop fronts lining both sides... a barbers, grocery, apothecary, newsagent, all of the little stores that one would expect to find in a busy town. Narrow alleys led to craftsman's studios and little stalls, each shielded from the rain by heavy canvas. Life bustled through the streets, even in the drizzle, inhabitants hurrying about on their business, pausing to chat in sheltered gaps, hopping over puddles and dodging a carriage or two as they crossed the road.
A large church dominated the head of the main road, and a large building... presumably the 'town hall'... loomed over the small square in the town center. Other landmarks that quickly caught the eye was a solid square building that housed the town bank, and a low, squat building that was a surprisingly large Watch house.
The town looked, aside from its few quirks... normal. Certainly not the home of the dark rumors and twisted legends that trickled through the lands.
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OOC Link:
viewtopic.php?f=31&t=7095---
CondorBoH - Niles Woodstock
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
The Editor Is An Ass. Practically the reporter's motto as long as there'd been newspapers, the editorial desk had been a bitter battleground for every eager journalist, watched over by a harsh, demanding deity... and the editor of the Times was certainly not one of the minor pantheon. He'd sent you here. Perhaps you'd annoyed him... it certainly didn't seem like a 'real' story, chasing insane rumors in the middle of nowhere. Yet one could not argue, and here you are, trying not to get mud on your sensible shoes, trying to ignore the almost-rain, eyeing the narrow 'road' that the carriage drivers had all refused to take you along. It'd cost a full half-shilling just to get this far, and there was no guarantee that the paper would cover the cost, if this turned out to be a wild goose chase.
Still, in for a penny. It was a long trudge along the winding road until you got to a small rise and could actually see buildings peeking above the distant hills... and at that point, something caught your attention. Or rather, the lack of something. There had been no bird calls, no distant cows lowing, no bleating sheep or shepherds calls... just the wind. Until now... you can hear a single trill, repeated again and again. It's off somewhere to your left.
exalted - Rob (Rebecca Warrick) Smith
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Finding the town had been difficult. Most people had never heard of it. It wasn't on any map you'd checked. Only the insistence of the Subaltern who'd passed on the message and a rough, hand-written set of directions had gotten you this far, to people who'd even heard of the place.
The main road had been empty, the first carriage you'd spotted being one that vanished into the distance as you climbed out of your own. The driver didn't say a word, just goaded the horses into movement as if he was hoping to catch up with the distant shape... leaving you on the side of the road, damp and alone.
The track ahead almost called to you. Somehow you knew your father was at the end of it. The knowledge felt rock-hard, like a crystal sitting in your mind. Perhaps it was the anticipation, or perhaps the tiredness of your travels, but somehow the road felt endless, like you'd been tramping for days, although the sun overhead was barely into the afternoon... as best as you could tell through the damnable clouds. It was a long way from the hot lands you'd recently been in.
And now you could hear a distant voice, somewhere up ahead. Or was it singing, or birds? Too faint to tell. There was a figure there, standing on the rise, looking across the hills towards the town.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Thu Sep 15, 2016 3:06 pmby exalted
Rebecca was almost offended by the amount of water that plagued England compared to where she had just come from. Making sure to tuck her hair up into her cap and straightening her jacket she begun to trudge down the muddy path to the town in the only way she'd been taught how. As she marched, drizzle whisking into her face she found her self in want of the slouch hats she had seen those damned colonial Australian galavant about in back in the Sudan. An ugly vulgar garment when compared to the tailored elegance of her current cap, it would have been far more practical for the conditions both here and there.
Not in the least, Rebecca realised, the hat would have concealed her hair better. Her hair had started to grow out again while on campaign and she had yet the time to see the barber to crop it back to a masculine length again.
Rebecca had planned to head straight to the watch house to start her inquiries, hoping her father may have been picked up for drunk and disorderly conduct, putting a quick end to the matter. The sound of a voice caused her to alter that plan as she wheeled about on the ball of her foot to advance in the new direction. If this person commonly worked by the road then they may have seen her father and could expedite her mission.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Fri Sep 16, 2016 6:49 amby CondorBoH
If it actually rained, at least Niles was smart enough to carry her supplies in a mostly waterproof bag. Still, it was a pain in the ass as it was. The heavy cloud and the occasional light drizzle was a slight hamper to her progress. Especially since she didn't want to get her shoes covered in mud.
Anyway.
The reporter was going to show her dumb editor what for after this trip and a half. A ghost town? Ridiculous, she could see it just past the next hill. As soon as she had a good angle of the entire place, she was going to set up and take a picture of it. Main shot of her article!
That said, the weather might not agree with her plans. Best to get there and get a place to stay for the night.
Before she continued walking, Niles looked to the left. There was no sounds of wildlife except for whatever that was. Maybe it was a bird? With a sigh, the reporter moved closer to the noise to see if she could get a closer look. Not too close, she didn't want to waste time. On the other hand, if it was a neat bird, a picture of that would sell well, right?
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Fri Sep 16, 2016 11:43 amby AnIntimateSecret
CondorBoH - Niles Woodstock and exalted - Rob (Rebecca Warrick) Smith
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Niles picks her way carefully over the muddy ground to discover an elderly man in the sort of clothes that were practically the farmer's uniform in this part of the country. He's staring into space, his eyes blank, expressionless.
The birdcall sound is coming from him, the man whistling a remarkable mimicry of a bird. He shows no sign of having spotted Niles in any way, but the whistling abruptly cuts off and the old man starts speaking in a continuous monotone.
"...her plates are coming she can eat now I can go home such pretty plates all flowers all flowers I can go home at last at last but they don't know the second way will she show them while she eats home at last..."
Niles turns to see a young man in a fine red coat and neatly placed forage cap hurriedly approaching... obviously a soldier, an odd sight all alone in the country. There's something slightly odd about him, though... perhaps the features, or the way he moves.
Rob catches up to the young man she was pursuing, noting that he's dressed the sort of hard-wearing tan clothes that young men in a travelling trade tends to wear. The bulky, heavy camera in his hands completes the picture of the journalist in the field as plainly as if he'd had it written on him.
The pair look at each other, the old man's droneing mumble filling the air unceasingly.
Firehead - Dalila Grooth
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Dalila managed the walk along the muddy track without meeting anyone. She's standing just inside the city gates. There's an inn there, and a number of shop fronts... and the dark, leering mouths of alleyways.
A number of people pause to glance at her, their attention caught no doubt by the nun's habit as much as the pretty face. Quite a crowd streams in and out of the gate here... there's the makings of a sort of slum just outside, where the majority of the working class no doubt live, as well as a fair bit of trade from the nearby farms.
From her position she can look along the length of the wide main street, the town square quite visible ahead of her, and the distant spire of the church poking above the rooftops at the far end of the town.
LillyMacow - Natalie Porter
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Natalie has reached the town, the long trudge tiring but unremarkable. She hasn't lingered at the gate, something leading her further in among the crowds. She's near the town square now. There's shops close to her, a barbers pole just above her head, an apothecary across the street, the newsagent next to it... and on the corner of the square nearest her is the squat building of the local watch.
Nobody seems to want to talk to her, or even take notice of her, everyone hurrying politely past as they go about their day.
Mark3000 - Jezebel Winter
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Jezebel has reached the town, but hasn't gone inside. Her dark skin has gotten more than a few looks from the people milling about... not hostile, more curious and wary.
She's standing near the 'slum', buldings made out of rough timber and boards and stone stolen from the broken remains of the old city walls. The sounds of crying babies and occasional arguments and loud chatter are comforting, similar to places she'd stayed in while looking for work... harsh places, but familiar.
Suddenly, a sight she wasn't expecting... a black woman, plump, middle-aged, very primly dressed in a severe, respectable outfit, walking serenely across the muddy ground from the city gate. She heads for one of the larger slum buildings, pausing in the doorway to stare directly at Jezebel, before stepping into the gloom.
lilbooth - Breanna Griffith
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Breanna arrived late in the afternoon, and the long walk from the main country rode to the city gates seemed to take hours. Exhausted, she walked into the town after dark. The inn by the gate was the obvious stop, and the gloomy, quiet interior seemed to match her mood.
The innkeeper was practically silent as he accepted a few coins from her dwindling stores and directed her to a small but comfortable room. She collapsed onto the bed and knew nothing until daylight woke her, spilling across her face from the small window.
She's sitting on the bed now, listening to the sounds of the town, pondering her next step.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Fri Sep 16, 2016 12:54 pmby CondorBoH
"I came for a ghost town, find a crazy old man instead. What a trip." Niles made sure to keep her voice down, only so the soldier could hear her. She had questions about that, but later. Something told her she needed to use more socks down her trousers. Clearing her throat and putting on her louder 'man' voice, the journalist approached the old fella.
"Hey there. Mister, you alright? You live around here, do you? Can probably help you to the town over there if you need it. Don't want your old bones getting wet. Er, too wet."
If she didn't get a reply, she'd instead go looking for a good spot to set up for a photo of the buildings she saw. This mightn't be the best hill, but it was a start. Niles had enough film for a fair more shots than she needed, that's for sure. Actually, even with a reply, she's looking for a nice photography point.
She'd be damned if a geezer's ramblings had something to do with a supposed ghost town filled with demons and whatever tall tales any drunkards she questioned could make up, but later in the day Niles would jot down what she remembered him saying.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Fri Sep 16, 2016 2:32 pmby Firehead
Dalila took a moment to get a look around as she stood there in the drizzle. The place certainly didn't look a place full of foul debauchery as she'd heard. It looked like just about any other sleepy countryside town one could find in any number of places. Still, she was here on a mission. Clutching her bible a little harder she noted the church spire in the far distance. That would be the best place to start. Perhaps the missing Priest was there, or she could at least hear word of him.
"Alright Delila, this is your new assignment. Time to make a good first impression for these people." With that bit of self-talk done, she pulled her boots from the thick mud with some effort and began to trudge her way up the street smiling the whole way. As she walked she would give a polite greeting to anyone she could see along the way. If one seemed open to it she would perhaps approach them for conversation as well.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Fri Sep 16, 2016 2:59 pmby Mark3000
Jezebel knew better then to just waltz right into the middle of town. She didn't want to attract too much attention to herself especially in a small town like this. She could already feel the familiar looks from strangers. Her skin crawled as she made her way to more familiar ground.
While the slums were loud and unruly, it was at least something Jezebel was familiar with. Walking the run down streets, Jezebel tried to familiarize her self with the area. As she walked, she took out her pocket watch and examined the inscription again. The clock had stopped so the inscription was the only worth while thing about the watch any more.
It was as she was checking her watch that she spotted another black woman who seemed to have an air of finesse around her. It was rare for Jezebel to run into other women of colour even when working as a maid. Once more, the woman turned and looked directly at her. Following the woman to the building, Jezebel poked her head inside. "Hello?" She asked as she entered the building.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Fri Sep 16, 2016 3:36 pmby LillyMacow
Though heheh fact no one has yet aknowledged her existance was strange, it was actually kind of comforting to not have to deal with anyone. Making her way over to the squat building, Peeking in she called out "hello? Anyone in there? I'm a reporter, I'm looking or formation on the happenings of this town. Hello?" She hoped this question might be enticing enough to grab the attention of someone, as s far this town Leary doesn't seem intrested in visitors.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:22 amby exalted
Rob's expression soured as she caught up to the man she'd pursued. A traveller and a crazy old man were of little value to her goals of finding her father. Sighing as she took a cigarette from her case and fumbled with her pockets to find her lighter, she tried to figure out why a young newsman would come to a place like this.
A brief flash of panic struck her as she thought about her father. While he was retired, a senior officer and landowner suddenly going missing was the sort of scandal the tabloids thrived on and she was unsure if her father's reputation could survive such a scandal. Resolved to find out, Rebecca continued after the Newsman as he set up his camera.
"Lt. Smith," She called out, sticking her hand out to shake, "What brings you out here?"
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Sat Sep 17, 2016 5:19 amby lilbooth
Breanna's sleep was pleasant enough. The small cot she found herself in was a far cry from the bed she had slept in for years. She groggily slid out of bed and slipped on her still tarnished traveling clothes. She didn't pack anything fancy, it was easy to draw attention in a silken dress. Plain wool clothes and cheap shoes were what remained of her attire. Once fully dressed and adequately groomed she headed downstairs. Breakfast was a necessity and she hoped the innkeeper downstairs would have something available. She made her gradually out of the room and downstairs. She walked in a guarded manner, not too quickly but with a careful haste. She did her best to not make prolonged eye contact with any other members of the inn. She was in a strange place, but the country folk were normally quite hospitable. If she was not stopped on the way out of her room she would proceed to the innkeeper and order something to. If possible she would find an empty table to sit at, but the bar counter would do otherwise.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Sat Sep 17, 2016 11:16 pmby CondorBoH
"One moment, one moment."
The camera set up couldn't be rushed or interrupted, in case she had the legs at an odd angle or the covering in such a way that it would fall off or otherwise expose the machine to the elements. Once she was done with her fiddling, she adjusted her cap and with a smile accepted the extended hand.
"Niles Woodstock - reporter at the Times, at your service, sir! Officially I'm here to follow rumours and find the truth regarding lil' ol Ironwold, since there's a lot of superstition regarding the place and other spooky stuff. Unofficially, I think my editor hates me. Same thing, really."
She looked back to the old man, then at the town.
"If you don't mind me asking, sir, what about you? Disregarding all the rumours, Ironwold is way outta the way of anywhere. Visiting family or just sight seeing?"
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Sun Sep 18, 2016 1:34 amby exalted
Rebecca huffed slightly at the young man's impertinence at making her wait for him.
Gnawing on her lip as listened to Niles explain his purpose, she felt her resolution hardening. The reporter was here looking for a scandal, and she was damned well sure that scandal wouldn't be her father.
"Scouting ahead for the Company, looking for a place to bivouac the men and the like," She replied curtly as the nosy Reporter tried to pry.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Sun Sep 18, 2016 2:19 amby CondorBoH
Jeez, she got off on the wrong foot right away. That, or this strapping service lad was up to something. Or perhaps, more mundane, didn't like reporters.
"Really? Sounds like you drew the short straw if you ended up out here."
Niles had turned her back to the soldier, making some more minor adjustments to her camera. Ready. This looked like a good angle, the buildings peaking out from the hills. Wonderful.
Click!
One slide of film down, several dozen more to go.
"Righty-o! Shall we get to moving the old man? I'd rather not leave someone's grandfather mumbling out here, especially if the rain picks up."
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Mon Sep 19, 2016 9:01 amby AnIntimateSecret
CondorBoH - Niles Woodstock and exalted - Rob (Rebecca Warrick) Smith
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
The old man continues his monotonic mumbling, apparently utterly unaware of the pair of young 'men' as they spoke despite Niles' attempt to talk to him.
The solid clunk of Niles' camera is almost calming, somehow reassuring in the slightly surreal background of the empty, damp green landscape and the unsettling old man. The plate stows away neatly in Niles' heavy bag, ready to be developed.
The moment the pair approaches the old man again his expression suddenly hardens, and his stare flicks to them, his narrowed, dark eyes glaring at them almost aggressively.
"She will eat your hearts!" he snaps, then he's abruptly up off the wall and hobbling away, moving with a surprising turn of speed over the rough ground, apparently oblivious of the rain.
Firehead - Dalila Grooth
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Dalila's greetings are returned politely enough, each townsperson tilting their head politely and mumbling something appropriate... but none linger to actually talk to her, and they all hurry off as if they're actually slightly afraid of her.
The church is a very large building for the relatively small town. Slight changes in the architectural style show how it's been built on and expanded over the decades... clearly it has been a very important building for the town.
Which is why the slightly abandoned feeling is odd. It's in good repair, the foliage on the grounds... there's a small graveyard tucked into one corner... all neatly trimmed, everything clean. But there's no feeling of any real life in the place. Other churches she'd been to felt like bustling centers of activity, even when empty. This building felt more like an empty, unused warehouse, as if she had no real reason to be there. People passing by didn't even look in her or the church's direction.
Hammering on the door just made an empty, echoing noise at first. Finally she heard the clunking of the bolt being slid aside, and then the door opened to reveal a startlingly beautiful woman. Very pale skin, big blue eyes, long dark hair, graceful, in a simple, rather old-style dress that draped neatly over her slender form... not even a bustle. She looked just as startled to see Dalila, cupids-bow lips parted in surprise before she spoke.
"Yes, er... Sister. Can I help you?" she asked politely, eyeing Dalila's damp habit.
Mark3000 - Jezebel Winter
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
The smells hit Jezebel first. Strong herbs, musty leather, rich soil, other scents that were less easy to identify. It was the odour equivalent of opening a blast oven, the moment she stepped through the doorway.
The room was cluttered... hanging plants, stacks of dried herbs, a bewildering array of ornaments and other mysterious items, all stacked on shelves and covering the various surfaces. There were even things hanging from ropes from the roof beams, making walking through the room something vaguely precarious.
"Well come in now, girl," the woman said, almost impatiently. She was seated amongst the clutter, with an air that was vaguely like a queen on the throne. Her accent was thick, strong, immediately apparent even with the few words. She gestured towards the chair next to her, her dark eyes glittering in the gloom.
"I am Mambo Ajani. Come, sit now, sit, let me look at you."
LillyMacow - Natalie Porter
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
The inside of the squat building was dark, and dank... and there was a very odd smell emanating through the place from what seemed to be stairs down into a basement in the far corner. The main room was filled with desks, cheap and rough and splintery. There was a door to a back room off to one side of the main room.
Only one of the desks had someone sitting at it... a large, corpulent man, unshaven. It took a moment to realise that the rumpled, stained clothing he was wearing was actually a policeman's uniform. It was half-unbuttoned, revealing an equally stained vest underneath and a hint of a very hairy chest.
He grunted as he pushed himself into a slightly more upright position and peered at her, scratching at the bulge of his stomach.
"Yesh Miss? Can I 'elp you w'summat?" he asked, his voice gravelly... probably years of cheap, badly-filtered alcohol.
lilbooth - Breanna Griffith
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
The ground floor of the inn had a small eatery... just plain, long tables with benches... on one side, and the counter that seemed to serve for the rest of the inn's business on the other. A door at the back, beside the stairs, presumably led to the kitchens. The place was still empty, only the innkeeper visible, still lurking behind the counter.
"Food's cold beef. Bread's fresh, though," he grunted in response to her inquiry, then abruptly banged his fist on the counter, yelling over his shoulder at the kitchen door. "One fer breakfast! Move yer arse, girl!"
He turned back and gave Breanna a half-smile, waving at the nearby tables. "'ave a seat, she'll bring it shortly."
A minute later the door swung open. In contrast to the stocky innkeep's dourness, the young woman who was carrying the plate was pretty, plump, and had a broad smile on her face. She hurried over with a plate filled with several thick slices of beef, even thicker slices of fresh bread, and a lump of thick, soft butter.
"Will that be all, miss? Anyfin' t'drink?" she asked anxiously. "We got a nice cider. Made local, it is!"
daxinator396 - Amber Rictone
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
The skirt over her rough pants was awkward at first, but Amber had to admit that it was an extra layer of warmth against the drizzle that seemed to get in everywhere. She'd had to adopt it... her hat got enough attention as it is, as did her attitude. Women on this side of the ocean were almost treated like dolls, sometimes, when they weren't treated almost like slaves.
Still, life on the ranges made the tough walk to the town easy enough, even with the mud and the ground-foliage that seemed to snatch at her ankles. That was when the next odd thing happened... she was ignored. People had looked at her in other towns... her hat, her leggings, the vague attempts at a modest skirt, her red hair, all had attracted stares and muttered comments. Here, though... the people largely ignored her, as if they'd seen it all before.
She was standing just inside the main gate. The inn here didn't look particularly inviting, and the various shops looked like they were still setting up, other than those that had probably opened before dawn. The morning sun was doing battle with the rainclouds, and people were bundled up against the rain and chill as they hurried past.
The place didn't really seem like the home of a dark evil, but still... there was something in the air...
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Mon Sep 19, 2016 9:24 amby daxtinator396
Amber was quite simply a tad bit miserable. She loved a good rainstorm every now and then. Earth Mother's kiss of life to the plains but this was just ridiculous. It was nothing like the warm plains of home. It was cold, wet, and dreary. No matter how hard she pulled her duster around her and hat down low, the unrelenting drizzle managed to seep it's way in. Pestering her small, dry center with biting cold pin pricks of water that rolled down her skin. She was thankful for her sensible leather soled boots on the walk here and her absolute refusal to forego her jeans, the walk was a little rough and she made the best of it.
Arriving at the town at last was more than a little underwhelming. She expected to see well.. SOMETHING. Some kind of clue to hint at what she knew should be here, but instead she had nothing but a dreary, quiet town doing its best to shake off the rain and continue on with it's life as normal. Her presence barely phased them and that made her a little worried. Not a single glance. Not a hushed whisper. Not even one. Every other town along the way had looked at her as if she was growing a cock from her forehead. She decided it was best to not look a gift horse in the mouth though and move on into the town letting her instincts and wits guide her. She took a small stroll down the main road keeping an eye out on the populace and a nervous hand that would tap the worn grips of her iron every few steps. It called her nerves to feel its presence there low on her hip in a duelist's way. She wouldn't be caught off guard. A small feral grin crossed her features for a brief second, green eyes twinkling with fire and then returning to normal. Let the hunt begin..
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Mon Sep 19, 2016 2:40 pmby exalted
"Crazy old Codger," Rebecca dismissed the old man's antics as he hobbled off.
She'd seen men do stranger things and paid no attention to the fools rambling. Taking one last drag on her cigarette she flicked the stump away and tamped it under foot.
"Well, work to do," She tipped her cap to the reporter, "Another time maybe."
Turning back towards the town, she began to trudge forward again, aiming to start her investigation at the Watch House. Hoping the local authorities may have seen her father.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Mon Sep 19, 2016 3:20 pmby Mark3000
The smell of the room was strong but not all together unpleasant. Walking the room she made sure not to bump into any of the plants hanging from the ceiling. She could recognize some of the more common herbs but most everything in the house seemed foreign to her. Finding her way to the sit, Jezebel sat down and turned to Mambo.
"Thank you Ms. Ajani. I go by Jezebel, Jezebel Winter" She said. Jezebel's accent diluted by years of studying at a boarding school and living in London. "I have come to Ironwold in search of work." Jezebel said as she let the women examine her. Mambo would be able to see a few small scars along the top of Jezebel's back that weren't fully hidden by her dress. As well, the girl looked tired and hungry after her long trip. Not that she would say so out right.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Mon Sep 19, 2016 11:08 pmby LillyMacow
Wrinkling her nose Natalie stepped inside keeping her distance from the man, not wanting to know what he smelled like. "U-hm excuse me do you happen to know about the mysteries around this town. Any good leads you could give me would be greatly appreciated." she looked at him hopefully taking out her journal and pen.
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Tue Sep 20, 2016 2:29 amby Firehead
Delila walked pleasantly through the streets of the town. She was glad to see people return her greetings. The place didn't seem as bad as the rumours made it seem. The fact that everyone seemed uninterested in speaking to her and even a little wary of her did draw concern from her.
Upon arrival, She looked up at the church quite surprised to see such a large one in such a small town. She'd expected some tiny little chapel. It made the place look important to the residents which was odd considering their apparent fear of her quite odd.
Next, she walked the grounds. They seemed rather well tended which gave the impression that someone was still caring for it, but the place felt empty and lifeless. She'd need to help out whomever was still here tending this church and help bring life back into the place.
Giving a strong knock on the large doors she heard the sound echo through. For a moment she feared the place might be empty until she heard a bolt sliding out. A rather striking woman pulled open the door to greet her. Giving a slight bow she responded to her. "Yes, I am Sister Delila Grooth. I've been assigned to do good works here in this town. May I speak with the Father here?"
Re: Ironwold Town, 1885
Posted:
Tue Sep 20, 2016 10:20 amby CondorBoH
Niles leaped back in surprise, stepping towards her camera protectively. Well, if this old codger was any indication, no wonder this place is surrounded by strange rumours.
"That has to be the fastest old man I have ever seen. I don't think I can run that fast even."
She adjusted her hat before going back to the camera and packing it away again. The reporter nodded towards Rob, giving a slight wave as she busied herself with the machinery. Once it was packed away she would make her way towards Ironwold once more.
"Who knows, we might meet up down there. Goodbye, sir. Don't go getting your heart eaten, or something."