It was unusual for L to go to bed early, but as the evening had progressed, a drowsy fatigue had settled on him, and ten o'clock had found him quite asleep, quite in his own bed, quite alone. It might mean one of two things: he could be coming down with a cold, or the next day could begin early and be full of activity.
His sleep turned out to be fitful, and there were dreams: he was in a vast, cold, almost completely empty room, half-dressed or perhaps clad like a laborer. He looked down at his feet and saw that they were bare. He looked up, and what he saw was profoundly unsettling: a skeletal thing, white and animate, standing before him. Its head was like a deaths-head and also unlike it; it had a single yellow eye with a slit pupil like a cat or perhaps a snake, tendrils that were tipped in violet and looked like they were serving it for hair, a nose that was also serpentine, a wide dark mouth with sharp fangs for teeth, stitches in its neck, the suggestion of wings. What was worst, in the dream, was how it stared at him with detached interest, the same kind of interest he would have focused on it in turn.
He felt certain that he wanted to talk to an old man, maybe Lord Valdemar, and then--
He woke with a start in the velvety darkness of his bedroom, coughing and disoriented. The dream had seemed so real, in spite of its inherent absurdity, that it took a moment to remember who and where he was. The air had a thickness to it, and a fetid smell, and all the bedclothes were clinging to his body in a way that was unusual for Yorkshire in general and November in particular--more typical of a hot summer in a wet climate. He had experienced days like that, but never as far north as this.
The first thing to do was to light the bedside lamp. The next was to try to find the source of the smell and the bad air. It didn't seem to be the fireplace, although it was stronger there, and stronger in the sitting room, and stronger still near the door to the hall.
In the corridor, the walls were encrusted here and there with some kind of material--greyish in some places, glowing in others. He fetched a poker from the sitting room and prodded them; the texture was spongy. Bioluminescent mushrooms of a special virulence? He had turned in only hours earlier, and there had been nothing like this, nor was he aware of anything that could spread this quickly. Still, fungal spores could have an insalubrious effect on the lungs, and whatever this was, there was a great deal of it. It looked like it was worse down the halls, and near the stairs. It looked much like what he and Temeraire had found in the automaton, but there was no possibility that that had spread so quickly from a distant part of the house, and there was little to indicate that the spores had traveled on their clothes. Still, the source itself could be common... how had the mushrooms gotten into the automaton to begin with?
He went back to the sitting room and made several hard, aggressive tugs at the bell pull; it would be jangling nearby. That should rouse Lyall, if he wasn't up already... either way, Lyall would be needed to wake and direct the staff.
Then, he went back to his bedroom and produced a handkerchief from a drawer, which he tied around the back of his head. It wasn't as efficacious as he would have hoped, but it did offer at least a small improvement in his breathing. He pulled on his shirt and trousers and dressing gown and slipped his feet into a pair of shoes and pocketed several more handkerchiefs. He retrieved the poker and a fireplace shovel next.
His mood drifted somewhere between a hazy twilight state and deep annoyance. Depending on how widely the fungi had spread, the place might be uninhabitable for some time. That would mean relocating the family and the staff for an indeterminate period, which would be a practical challenge. The house would have to be thoroughly washed with vinegar-water once the solid material had been removed, and the wainscoting and any soft furnishings might have to be replaced. At worst, it could turn out to be inordinately expensive and a thoroughgoing inconvenience.
For now, the human side of the equation was the most important. There was Lord and Lady Valdemar to attend to--if they were experiencing difficulties similar to his own, their age and relative fragility might mean that they would need assistance. Misaya might also need it. The fact that none of the other children was in residence was cause for relief, and his wife's absence from the house also meant one less thing on his mind. The situation as it stood presented quite enough to be getting on with.
He sorted through the tasks which would have to be delegated. The two people who seemed most likely to be useful were Lyall, whose job it was, and Robin, who would probably be unable to stop himself from helping.
He closed the door to the bedroom, then the door to the sitting room, then made for the stairs to check the conditions downstairs. It was all he could do not to sit on the top stair and lean against the wall and go back to sleep.
[Due to the nature of his role, he's available pretty much all over the place, attempting to order NPCs around: any servant he encounters will be given orders to cover their nose and mouth and then assist in getting everyone out. It will be easiest to catch him somewhere on the first floor, or in the corridor marked "39" on the second floor map, or on the stairs nearest 41/42 on the second floor. Please note that he has a handkerchief tied around his head, covering his nose and mouth.]
Second Floor Hallway, eventually, and elsewhere on the first floor | OPEN
His sleep turned out to be fitful, and there were dreams: he was in a vast, cold, almost completely empty room, half-dressed or perhaps clad like a laborer. He looked down at his feet and saw that they were bare. He looked up, and what he saw was profoundly unsettling: a skeletal thing, white and animate, standing before him. Its head was like a deaths-head and also unlike it; it had a single yellow eye with a slit pupil like a cat or perhaps a snake, tendrils that were tipped in violet and looked like they were serving it for hair, a nose that was also serpentine, a wide dark mouth with sharp fangs for teeth, stitches in its neck, the suggestion of wings. What was worst, in the dream, was how it stared at him with detached interest, the same kind of interest he would have focused on it in turn.
He felt certain that he wanted to talk to an old man, maybe Lord Valdemar, and then--
He woke with a start in the velvety darkness of his bedroom, coughing and disoriented. The dream had seemed so real, in spite of its inherent absurdity, that it took a moment to remember who and where he was. The air had a thickness to it, and a fetid smell, and all the bedclothes were clinging to his body in a way that was unusual for Yorkshire in general and November in particular--more typical of a hot summer in a wet climate. He had experienced days like that, but never as far north as this.
The first thing to do was to light the bedside lamp. The next was to try to find the source of the smell and the bad air. It didn't seem to be the fireplace, although it was stronger there, and stronger in the sitting room, and stronger still near the door to the hall.
In the corridor, the walls were encrusted here and there with some kind of material--greyish in some places, glowing in others. He fetched a poker from the sitting room and prodded them; the texture was spongy. Bioluminescent mushrooms of a special virulence? He had turned in only hours earlier, and there had been nothing like this, nor was he aware of anything that could spread this quickly. Still, fungal spores could have an insalubrious effect on the lungs, and whatever this was, there was a great deal of it. It looked like it was worse down the halls, and near the stairs. It looked much like what he and Temeraire had found in the automaton, but there was no possibility that that had spread so quickly from a distant part of the house, and there was little to indicate that the spores had traveled on their clothes. Still, the source itself could be common... how had the mushrooms gotten into the automaton to begin with?
He went back to the sitting room and made several hard, aggressive tugs at the bell pull; it would be jangling nearby. That should rouse Lyall, if he wasn't up already... either way, Lyall would be needed to wake and direct the staff.
Then, he went back to his bedroom and produced a handkerchief from a drawer, which he tied around the back of his head. It wasn't as efficacious as he would have hoped, but it did offer at least a small improvement in his breathing. He pulled on his shirt and trousers and dressing gown and slipped his feet into a pair of shoes and pocketed several more handkerchiefs. He retrieved the poker and a fireplace shovel next.
His mood drifted somewhere between a hazy twilight state and deep annoyance. Depending on how widely the fungi had spread, the place might be uninhabitable for some time. That would mean relocating the family and the staff for an indeterminate period, which would be a practical challenge. The house would have to be thoroughly washed with vinegar-water once the solid material had been removed, and the wainscoting and any soft furnishings might have to be replaced. At worst, it could turn out to be inordinately expensive and a thoroughgoing inconvenience.
For now, the human side of the equation was the most important. There was Lord and Lady Valdemar to attend to--if they were experiencing difficulties similar to his own, their age and relative fragility might mean that they would need assistance. Misaya might also need it. The fact that none of the other children was in residence was cause for relief, and his wife's absence from the house also meant one less thing on his mind. The situation as it stood presented quite enough to be getting on with.
He sorted through the tasks which would have to be delegated. The two people who seemed most likely to be useful were Lyall, whose job it was, and Robin, who would probably be unable to stop himself from helping.
He closed the door to the bedroom, then the door to the sitting room, then made for the stairs to check the conditions downstairs. It was all he could do not to sit on the top stair and lean against the wall and go back to sleep.
[Due to the nature of his role, he's available pretty much all over the place, attempting to order NPCs around: any servant he encounters will be given orders to cover their nose and mouth and then assist in getting everyone out. It will be easiest to catch him somewhere on the first floor, or in the corridor marked "39" on the second floor map, or on the stairs nearest 41/42 on the second floor. Please note that he has a handkerchief tied around his head, covering his nose and mouth.]