Rusted Gears in Mourning
Reducio
CREDITS
DND Tables : Solo Adventurer Toolkit 1 & 2 by PAUL BIMLER + DnD 5e rules + Wands & Wizards DnD toolkit
DND Tables : Solo Adventurer Toolkit 1 & 2 by PAUL BIMLER + DnD 5e rules + Wands & Wizards DnD toolkit
| xxxx | 5th of July, 2026 16h53 Richard was pacing impatiently in the Entrance Hall of the family home. Glancing every two minutes at the clock, he checked where his family members were, especially one: his father, who, according to the needle, was still in his Private Study. His sisters were in the greenhouses in the garden with their mother, which allowed him some peace and quiet, as he didn't have to listen to the little ones howling for no reason. They were probably busy tending to the new shoots of the season. Pretending to check that all his belongings were in his bag, hoping to trick his mind into thinking that time would pass more quickly, he was momentarily startled in his work by your father's amused voice: "Prêt à partir ?1" Richard let out a cry of terror and suddenly spun around. Ambroise de Montmorency, dressed casually, held a small roll of parchment right next to his right cheek: "You were going to forget your mother's shopping list again," he said, raising an eyebrow. Once he had recovered from his emotions, Richard stammered out his apologies and grabbed the list to stuff it in his bag. “Prêt2 !” exclaimed the Slytherin in a firmer voice, “Do you really think she’ll agree?” he asked in a more pleading voice for what seemed to be the umpteenth time this week. His father rolled his eyes wearily and didn't bother to answer, preferring to turn his back on the boy and head for the door. Richard bit his lip to stop himself from asking his question again, then trotted to catch up with his father and take the bracelet that was offered to him. A sharp crack shattered the silence. The door of the house closed firmly, now that the landing was empty of its masters. 1 "Ready to go ?" ; 2 : "Ready"
WC: 301 |
xxxx |
| ⟆ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑶𝑳𝒀𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑻 𝑷𝑨𝑻𝑯 ⟅ E𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁, F𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁, V𝖾𝖾𝗅𝖺 |
𝔔𝔲𝔦𝔡 𝔓𝔯𝔬 𝔔𝔲𝔬 ●═════ﺤ ⚜ -═════● |
STA (4) | EVA (5) | STR (4) ⟅ WIS (7) | ARC (8) | ACC (7) ⟆ |
Rusted Gears in Mourning
| xxxx | A new, very distinctive cracking sound occurred on the Northeast Landing Pad in Magpies Square. Nobody around them turned towards them. After all, Apparitions were a very popular means of transport, so much so that Montrose had taken care to install about ten Landing Pads in different locations around the city, protected by spells that prevented wizards from appearing on top of each other. Mr. Ambroise took his son's hand and pulled him out of the circle so they could move away from the area, freeing up the landing pad for an old man carrying two large sacks filled with vegetables. The moody old man hurried away from the landing pad, grumbling under his breath about a list of clients he didn't like he had to visit. “Bien. Nous allons commencer par la bijouterie avant d’aller voir Ms Berrows. Après ça…1”, Mr. de Montmorency had not finished recapping the list of planned errands when hostile cries reached their ears. Ambroise and his son both frowned, searching with perplexity for the source of the commotion. To their right, where the Magic Museum stood, a very small, agitated crowd was bellowing hostile litanies at the faces of three city representatives who, with their hands raised to shoulder height, were trying to calm the people down. In vain. “Why are they shouting like that?” asked Richard, confused. "I don't know... But Sir Roskiv and Hollyghal seem to be losing control of the situation. Come. Let's go join them," Ambrose decided firmly, still holding his son's hand. Father and son headed towards the small crowd about 200 meters away, which, by the passing seconds, was steadily growing with the arrival of other curious onlookers eager to find out what was going on. Despite the noise, Richard took his time admiring the historic buildings in the Square, including the Museum, which boasted an elegant Gothic style. The boy always felt like an ant at its feet… how he missed this city during the school year at Hogwarts! Tall posters on the Museum's facade advertised this year's summer exhibitions. It was at the foot of one of these that the group had settled. Now standing near the three Council representatives, Ambroise de Montmorency raised his hand precisely as one of them met his gaze. Almost immediately, a glimmer of relief lit up the poor man's face, clearly overwhelmed. While the other two spoke to the protesters, the third strode over to the Slytherin's father. “Ambroise, good to see you… They’re going mad in this town, I tell you. They’ve had us here for an hour now… What they’re saying makes no sense, but every day they get angrier,” the man explained quickly, clearly distressed by the situation. “Today they’re complaining that the smoke from their chimneys is drifting towards the Muggle side of town… Yesterday, others were saying that the cobblestones on Berkins Street were preventing them from flying!” The two Montmorencys, stunned, watched the gathering as a Catoblepas might watch the Mystic Pullman go by. Finally, Richard's father turned to his son, his expression stern. From that moment, the young Slytherin felt his soul ready to receive the order without any kind of resistance. “Go to Ms. Berrows’s. I’ll see how I can help here. I’ll join you as soon as possible.” Richard nodded in agreement. He let his father place a hand on his shoulder, then, after biding farewell to the representative, Richard began to walk towards Ms. Berrows' shop. It was about a 15-minute walk away, on the northwest edge of town. Richard swallowed his disappointment at being separated from his father so soon, so, to distract himself, he watched the usual bustle of visitors and locals coming and going in the shops along his route, letting the loud cries be muffled by the growing distance. WC: 633
1“Good. We’ll start with the jewelry store before going to see Ms. Berrows. After that…” |
xxxx |
| ⟆ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑶𝑳𝒀𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑻 𝑷𝑨𝑻𝑯 ⟅ E𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁, F𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁, V𝖾𝖾𝗅𝖺 |
𝔔𝔲𝔦𝔡 𝔓𝔯𝔬 𝔔𝔲𝔬 ●═════ﺤ ⚜ -═════● |
STA (4) | EVA (5) | STR (4) ⟅ WIS (7) | ARC (8) | ACC (7) ⟆ |
Rusted Gears in Mourning
| xxxx | Richard's steps stopped abruptly before a small, gray, rusty wrought-iron gate, surrounded by blackened stone walls that reached his shoulders. His inquisitive gaze slid over the yellowed, even seemingly abandoned courtyard before turning toward a single-story house that lent the whole scene an intimidating atmosphere. He ran his right index finger over the gilded letters, tarnished by the weather, of the small sign that simply read "Ms. Berrows, Master P." With the tip of his finger, he gently pushed open the gate and stepped onto the path, half-covered in vegetation, that led to the entrance of the house. To his right, he noticed two statues with a Greek-like appearance. His curiosity didn't linger on them, ignorant as he was of the magical mythologies of Antiquity. To his left, a kind of round fountain, adorned with a serpent whose head was turned towards the clouds. The irresistible pool of water drew the young boy towards it. After inspecting every detail of the giant serpent statue, he gazed at the basin filled with crystal-clear water. He plunged his left hand into the water and savored the sensation of coolness that quickly rose up his arm. The sharp sound of breaking glass jolted him from his stupor. He quickly turned his head toward the entrance of the house/shop, straightening up, and then, after shaking his head, decided to continue walking. In front of the door, he grabbed a heavy gold ring and struck it three times against the doorframe. The house reacted instantly, opening to let him in. Richard's eyebrows rose at the sight of the shop's interior, invaded by overgrown with wild ivy, cobwebs, and parchment scattered on the floor. The last time he'd been there with his mother, the place had been absolutely spotless. You could even see a few cauldrons in use, emitting sparkling plumes of steam. The Slytherin felt as if he'd stepped into a time warp, so striking was the decay. “Ms. Berrows? Are you here?” the boy asked cautiously, his eyes darting abruptly from one side of the room to the other, his ear straining towards the source of the noise. Another broken glass answered him, accompanied by a harsh cry of annoyance. “Mursom, aeui’ra saksems kae voseamca sudoae!1” exclaimed the exasperated female voice in Parseltongue, which was now getting closer to Richard. Ms. Berrows appeared through a hidden door in a large wall shelf. Her dark hair was disheveled, and she wore minimalist work clothes with a leather belt holding a set of tools Richard had never seen in class. Despite this, both her arms were covered in a purple, sticky, and unappetizing substance. “Oh, aren’t you that boy I’ve seen and… where?... Hogesmeade, isn't it?” she asked after a short moment, intrigued. Richard looked up at her. Now that she had approached him, he recognized again the very distinctive features of the portrait he had seen in the borrowed book, as well as the features of the woman he had spoken to during the festivities. Overcome with excitement, the Slytherin gave her a satisfied smile and then bowed his head in proper greeting. “Yes, Madam. I apologize for approaching you like that… I recognized you and I was afraid I wouldn’t have had time to speak to you with the Aurors around…”. Ms. Berrows sniffed with amusement, her eyes assessing the Slytherin. “You were quite young when you came last time… you still are this summer… far too young to be on a school trip to Hogesmeade, aren’t you?” The implication was as clear as the water in the fountain that stood in the courtyard. Richard adjusted his shoulders and continued to maintain his smile. “I did not fail to… repent…during my detention, Madam,” replied the Slytherin, politely handing the shopping list to the owner of the premises, who took it after giving him a look that spoke volumes about her faith in his pseudo-repentance. “You’ll have to wait a few minutes, young Montmorency. The potions for your mother need a few finishing touches. Be careful, the floorboards creak and the furniture is in a bad mood today.” As Ms. Barrows turned back towards her office in the rear of the shop, Richard felt his muscles relax, knot by knot. The first stage of the errands and their introductions were done. Now he had to think about how to approach her to discuss the subject that had brought him here: Parselmouth. Lost in thought, he turned from the counter to observe, without really seeing, the jars, vases, and objects displayed on the shelves. One in particular caught his eye: a collection of emotional manipulation potions. One of the labels bore his family name… but a first name that wasn't his: Laverne de Montmorency. Richard swallowed, delicately touched the vial containing a pink liquid, then, after shaking his head to break another train of thought, turned away. His breath caught in his throat. From surprise and fear. There, sitting opposite him on the open upper floor, was a bright red-hair boy with very light blue eyes who looked at him first with surprise, then realization, before turning to hostility. Still frozen with fear of having missed the boy while entering the shop, Richard forced his pounding heart to calm down, and then changed his gaze with a neutral expression. The stranger's animosity seemed entirely gratuitous. “Problem?” the young Slytherin boy asked coldly, his right eyebrow raised, standing his ground. WC : 901
1 "Morgan, you’re testing my patience today!" in Parseltongue |
xxxx |
| ⟆ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑶𝑳𝒀𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑻 𝑷𝑨𝑻𝑯 ⟅ E𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁, F𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁, V𝖾𝖾𝗅𝖺 |
𝔔𝔲𝔦𝔡 𝔓𝔯𝔬 𝔔𝔲𝔬 ●═════ﺤ ⚜ -═════● |
STA (4) | EVA (5) | STR (4) ⟅ WIS (7) | ARC (8) | ACC (7) ⟆ |