IC - Day 2 - Hounfor District

[Mephistophilis]

There is no response from Lazaire, who continues to flick back and forth between his normal and unnatural forms. He shows no sign of recognition and continues to make his way side-ways, crab-like, towards Laurent and Pierre, waving the knife above his head and fixating Laurent with his glittering eyes.

Behind Lazaire, by the door, now that most of the attendees have fled, Laurent can see the older houngan, he's staring blankly into the middle distance and seems to be mumbling to himself.

[Mr. Handy]

"A bad loa's riding him!" Laurent tells the houngan. "Can you do something to get it out of him?"

[Mephistophilis]

The houngan doesn't seem to be aware of Laurent, he's still gabbling away in that unrecognisable language.

I suggest a roll for bringing the houngan round. I'm not sure that's even a human die so you'll need to risk your Insight. And I'll roll to oppose you since I think it'd be interesting to know what would happen if you failed. ppLHLL1d6

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent concentrates on trying to bring the houngan back to reality, even as he loses his own grip on it.

Insight roll to bring the houngan around:
1d6

[Mephistophilis]

Laurent fixes his gaze firmly on the houngan, and focuses his mind and his will on catching and holding his attention. 'M'sie, you've got to shake off Moses and attend to M'sie Lazaire. There's a bad loa riding him, and you have to stop it.'

The houngan lazily turns his head towards Laurent and just catches his eyes. For a moment Laurent feels something, a connection, an understanding, something deeper, but before his mind can settle on it, put it into words it is gone. But the houngan's face firms up, sharpens, his eyes narrow. 'I hear you ti gason. Auxian is back.'

He circles the crouched, crab-like form of Lazaire warily. 'And who do we have here, noble mystère? One of the gèdés perhaps?' Lazaire's gaze, previously fixed on Laurent flicks back to the houngan at those words. The houngan seems to find this confirmation, 'Ah, a gèdé, we are indeed honoured.' Again -click- Lazaire is the monster again, his death's-head mouth widens into a leer, the split across the face seems to be all teeth. All huge white teeth, through which a river of spittle and froth pours. The houngan has his hands out in front of him in a placatory fashion. 'If we have offended you I can only apologise noble gèdé,' He glances at Laurent and Pierre, his look is pointed, like he knows they've done something to offend the loa.

In that moment, when the houngan takes his eyes off Lazaire, the creature leaps at him, swinging the knife down so swiftly that the houngan barely has time to react, noticing the attack just in time and jerking back so that the blade slices past his eyes barely an inch away and snags his khaki jacket, rending a jagged tear.

The houngan staggers backwards, he points to the central pole of the peristyle, about the base it is scattered with various offerings that have been overturned and trampled by the fleeing crowd. 'The pyè-tonnè, get the thunderstone.' Laurent is nearest to the pole and he can see a large tapered stone, smooth and covered in oil, a thunderstone. In school they'd told him that thunderstones were hand-axes made by the original Indian inhabitants before the Europeans and Africans came to St Joe but he wasn't sure he believed that.

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent scrambles for the thunderstone to grab it.

[Mephistophilis]

Laurent grasps the thunderstone firmly, it's base sitting in the palm of his hand. Tapered end poking out between the fingers and palm. The oily surface glistening. There's something familiar about that feeling, like he's always known how to hold the thunderstone, some unconscious racial memory spanning back generations and generations. He holds up the stone to look at it in the flickering light but the houngan shouts, 'Don't just admire it - hit him with the pyè-tonnè!'

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent tries to strike Lazaire with the thunderstone, relying on that seeming ancestral memory, hoping to just knock him out rather than kill him.

[Mephistophilis]

At the sound of the houngans voice, perhaps understanding his words, the contorted form of Lazaire thrusts the knife out in front of him like a sword and lunges towards Laurent, the blade passing between his left arm and his body, slashing his shirt before Laurent can twist away. At this moment, he uses his momentum to drive the tip of thunderstone down onto the back of Lazaire's skull with a sickening crunch that he can both feel and hear.

OOC:   Why don't you give me a roll to see how he does, in particular whether he can knock Lazaire out without killing him. I won't oppose it I'm just wondering how successful you are. I guess that'd be one human die since anyone can whack someone with a stone, you may or may not want to use an Insight die.

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent is able to knock out Lazaire without doing any permanent damage.

Roll (human die) to knock out Lazaire rather than kill him:
1d6

[Mephistophilis]

As Laurent lands his blow on the back of Lazaire's head a shriek of surprise and pain resonates from the creature's slobbering mouth. At that moment Laurent feels something in his hand, the second the blow connects, like an electric shock that passes up his arm and into his head. For a second he loses his bearings, everything around him seems distant, fuzzy. He can't make out the hounfor anymore. He's somewhere else. Somewhere dark, marshy, a low mist rolls past him at knee height. Looking up the sky is black, no stars, no moon, nothing but blackness. But a few metres ahead of him is the creature. No longer in the form of a man, redolent of the shapes that Lazaire had contorted into but freed from the confines of a human body. Laurent can't really make out what he's looking at, is it a crab with elongated arms, an orangutan with pincers for hands, whatever it is it glowers at him with hatred from that pale and waxy face, and through spittle frothed teeth hisses, 'Mwen Gèdé Cinq Jours Malheur. Mwen Gèdé Cinq Jours Malheur. Ma touyé ou! I am the Gèdé of the Five Days of Misfortune. I am going to kill you!'

Then he's back in the room, in front of Laurent the creature sinks onto it's knees, pawing at the fallen knife for a few seconds, then slides down onto the floor. The face loses it's death's-head look, but slowly this time. It takes a full minute but the man becomes Ti-Jean Lazaire again, the man they had talked to earlier at the Azagon, the cook. Lying there peacefully, without any expression. Like he's asleep.

OOC:   Sorry, another Insight roll for that experience.

[Mr. Handy]

Laurent shakes off the vision's effects and tells Auxian about it. "I saw the Gèdé in a dark swamp!" he says. "It said it's the Gèdé of the Five Days of Misfortune, and that it's going to kill me!"

Insight roll (current level 4):
1d6

[Mephistophilis]

The houngan shakes his head. 'You know the gèdés are the mystères of death, ti gason.'

'He of the Five Days Misfortune is especially malevolent, people say. What have you done to offend him?'

[Mr. Handy]

"Well, I did just smack him over the head with a thunderstone," says Laurent.

[Mephistophilis]

Laughing a deep belly laugh, the houngan leans on a pillar to support himself. He wipes his eyes. 'That you did ti gason, that you did.'

'We don't see Gèdé Cinq Jours very often. But he holds a grudge that one. I agree, he won't be happy you hit him with the thunderstone, but it's more than that. Something must have summoned him. He's angry.'

The houngan shakes his head. 'The loa are restless, ti gason. Something is not right in Dame Marie.'

[Mr. Handy]

"There is a lot going on around here, and it's bad," says Laurent. "That's why we came here, to seek your help." He explains what they've found so far in their investigation.

[Mephistophilis]

The houngan introduces himself, he is indeed Auxian Ramses. Before he continues the conversation with Laurent and Pierre he checks on Lazaire. 'He's going to be alright. I'm glad, Ti-Jean is a good man, he has a big heart.'

Once he's satisfied that the unconscious man is just sleeping, he continues, 'Ti-Jean came to me a few days ago. He said that there was something going on at the Hotel, where the white people go with their drinking and their drugs. He was worried about some of the guests there, he thought they were sick, spiritually sick. I agreed help him make some prayers to Agoué, that's what we were doing today and yesterday. Ti-Jean said "Tout moun se moun, even the Americans deserve to be treated as men."

'I thought it was just the white men, but you're saying the Lavigne girl is tied up in all this as well? Mete absè sou klou, it goes from bad to worse. From what you say, it seems like the loa are unhappy, something is making them angry. You know what they say, "Lè w manje lajan Chango, fò w peye Chango," we have taken from Agoué, and if he is unhappy we owe it to him to make it right. If something is going on out in the bay, well, maybe Agoué is angry, or maybe something is happening in Agoué's domain and he doesn't like it. And that hotel, named after Azagon like that doesn't mean something! There's something going on there to be sure. I just don't know what it is. But the gèdé don't like it.'

He furrows his brow. 'And it is Easter of course. La Souvenance, the remembrance, it is coming.'

[Mr. Handy]

"I'm Laurent Toussaint," says Laurent, "and this is my friend Pierre Lavigne, Marise's brother. How can we stop the problem? Can you talk to Agoué and ask him why he's upset?"

[Mephistophilis]

'Bonswa, Laurent and Pierre. I am sorry to hear about your sister's troubles, ' he says to Pierre with a grave face. 'But one does not simply "talk" to Agoué. If you are lucky he will mount your body - drive out your gros bon ange - and speak through you for a time.' He furrows his brow. 'I am too drained for that again today, and I must tend to Ti-Jean. Come back tomorrow and I will try for you. But the loa have their own agenda. They do not just appear for party tricks.'

[Mr. Handy]

"We'll have to do some service for him," says Laurent, nodding. "D'accord, we'll return tomorrow."