Thaven's mouth moves but the only sounds that comes out is. "Um, ummmmmmughmmm."
** spoiler omitted **
"Of course not," says Fredo, flashing Kroft a smile as he slips out of her office. He remembers his promise not to reveal her role, or the Guard's, in Trinia's story. Fortunately, assuming the Queen has picked a scapegoat for a scapegoat, he will not have to. He makes his way to the room where they had been staying, and shuts the door with Cat outside. He can hear he scratching at the wood; he will be able to sense if she sees anyone. Thus secluded, he begins to write.
Where she came from, off the street or pre-stewed in the dungeon, I do not know. But the investigation never left the Castle, as if it was some family affair. It demanded utmost secrecy, lest someone suffer embarrassment! It began and ended with the woman's interrogation, conducted without supervision by the Queen's personal mage. He broke her mind, forced her to mouth his words, and presented the result to Ileosa. "Poison", he said through her lips. But no search of Eodred's body or cups was done.
We are expected to gawk and cheer when Sabor is hanged on such evidence. A real investigation would have involved the Guard, who were kept in the dark about the whole matter. A real trial, before the Arbiters, should have been held. But it is not to late. We can, we must, demand a public inquiry, not a secret tribunal whose conclusions are foregone. If this is not done, and Sabor hangs, we may see before too long a different set of murderers come before the Arbiters.
He signs it "Bakari", after the river that waters his hometown, slips the parchment into his robe, and settles down to wait for Majenko.
"I'll have a look see around town, I'll meet you up at the square. I'll find you guys there, no need to worry about finding me."
Burahl strolls down the street, talking to some of the pople he knows at the slums and other parts of town and asks them what they think of the sudden execution, do they believe the Queen or is the gossip around town already that there's something wrong about it.
If not Burahl intends to spread the gossip, telling people that he heard from a reliable client/source of his that Trinia Sabor isn't even guilty, that the Queen hides something we can't hear about.
Burahl makes his way to the square an hour earlier or so, staying in the shadows covered with a hooded cloak, not drawing any unwanted attention. He inspects the area for any escape routes and guards around, doing a bit of recon before the rest shwo up.
Raijinn nods to Burahl as the rat sets off. "If we are concerned of what may happen tonight, perhaps I should prepare." He nods to Cressida, retiring to his room.
The man looks up from his book, pushing his glasses higher up on his long and thin nose. "Yes? Can I help you?"
The young girl with Thaven laughs at his shyness, changes the subject, and begins to elaborate on all of the ways that adventuring and spelunking are the most exciting things one can do. The talk goes for a few hours, with Thaven barely contributing (maybe a nod here, maybe a "yeah" there, but he's too timid to say much else) before there is a heavy knock on the door of Zellara's.
"I'll tell you later, though. Right now I don't have the time. You've heard about the execution tonight? Well, I need this printed and distributed as widely as possible before that happens. Somewhere a lot of people will get to read it." He unrolls the manuscript flat on the desk. "And I mean printed, typed, like it was going to Zenderholm's clerks. No trace of my hand," he says seriously, gesturing at the quills. At Pauli's raised eyebrow Fredo plops a coin purse down on top of the parchment. "Don't worry, I know your rates, it's all there," he says. "Plus a little more to get to the front of the line."
He then listens carefully to Goffred's request, his eyes only flickering from eye contact with the man to take in the bag of gold Goffred drops on the table. "Having an unexpected windfall with your business, Goffred? I wouldn't know you as the kind of person to just throw this kind of money around. Money aside, too, this sort of thing is...risky.." he continues, reading over the manuscript Goffred's placed before him. "Even if it contains no trace of YOUR hand, people will still know it came from me. I could get in some serious trouble for this, Goffred."
As for exits, the only way that you can see in and out of the courtyard are the massive castle gates, although you could obviously climb the ramp into the Castle itself too or ascend the walls.
Thaven, hearing the knock, suddenly springs into action. He draws his sword, steps to the door while placing a finger to his lips. He stands in front of the door, so as to block the view of the interior of the room, while his sword is hidden behind the door.
"Who is it?"
"I wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't important, Pauli," he says. "I would sooner distribute the papers myself, but I have a prior engagement," he adds, looking down at the manuscript. Pauli can probably figure out where he's going to be. "I can leave you some ink to mix into your mixture so it won't be as easily traced, while you use your most generic typeface. I can give you my robe and barrister wig if you want a disguise - I have a spare robe at least. Or if you really don't want to be seen with the papers, I can leave Cat here and she can distribute them."
Cracking the door open reveals a mass of muscled and tanned skin at first. Continuing to open it reveals a pair of Shoanti men standing outside the door. One, a huge and muscled tattooed barbarian with an axe slung across his back. The second is the familiar blind bulk of Thousand Bones. The barbarian still has his hand upraised, while Thousand Bones stands behind him, facing towards the door but not quite straight at it.
The knocker clears his throat. "Thaven Jack? We were told to expect you at this address."
"Listen, I'll do it, Goffred, for you. I've known you a long time, and I don't think you'd want me to do this if it wasn't the right thing. Who do you want me to hand it out to? I don't think I'll be able to make and distribute more than perhaps...thirty."
"Thank you, Pauli," says Fredo, feeling something unknot in his chest. He'd been working himself up to make the case for not just keeping one's head down, but there's no need anymore. "Thirty copies should be enough, as long as people start talking. As for how to do that...people are going to be converging on the execution. There ought to be a crowd all the way up Field Marshal Avenue."
Thaven lowers his sword and steps back, opening the door, but still remaining cautious. "Come in. I'm Thaven."
The pair of large Shoanti men enter the small building quietly, closing the door behind them. The barbarian notes Thaven's sword with a nod and notes Trinia's presence, who is quite shocked. He murmurs to Thousand Bones about Trinia, and the shaman approaches the small girl. "Trinia Sabor? My name is Thousand Bones. Our mutual friend Goffred has instructed me to aid you in leaving the city. Do you want this?"
She nods, indicating the scrolls at her side. "Yeah, I've been getting ready for awhile...it's safer."
The shaman nods and turns to Thaven. "Do I have your permission to take her?"
Thaven stares at the man for a moment, trying to make up his mind. Finally he nods and sheathes his sword. Walking to Trinia he smiles sadly. "I guess this is goodbye. Take care of yourself. I... I'll miss you." He awkwardly holds out a hand for her to shake.
Trinia looks at his hand briefly before batting it aside and grabbing him in a big hug. "I'm sure we'll see each other again! That makes it not goodbye." She gives him a kiss on the cheek before releasing him and approaching Thousand Bones. "Should I use these now or later?"
He strokes his chin before deciding that now, probably, is a better time. She strokes her own chin before deciding on the Shoanti bodyguard as the target for her misdirection and draws her scrolls.
She waves her hand and pronounces their arcane syllables, shrinking and growing just slightly more puffy cheeked. Marveling at her own childlike appearance, she's ushered out by the Shoanti. She turns back a last time to wiggle her fingers at Thaven before she disappears around a corner.
Majenko, returning from informing Goffred of Trinia's presence, alights on the building's porch. 'Thaven! Hi. Um, you might want to join your friends in the castle's courtyard, the execution is supposed to start soon. Trinia's execution, but not really. Goffred will explain. C'mon!'
---
Burahl is there first, after having spent some time asking around about the place, but he's quickly joined by Thaven and then Goffred, and finally Raijinn, who had been meditating until the very last minute. The friends join the line that's beginning to form outside of the castle gates. People slowly shuffle into the courtyard, and Goffred sees very clearly that every fifth person or so carries a little typefaced card, and a soft murmuring permeates the line.
It's also very clear that they're surrounded by the wealthiest and most powerful people in Korvosa. Many of the city's noble families, as well as most of the Queen's most prominent employees - her tax collector, tax-spender, Marcus Endrin, and many more are in attendance. Two notably not in attendance are Neolandus Kalepopolis, the late King's seneschal, and Vencarlo Orisini, the famed swordmaster. The latter, is, of course, expected because of the man's known disdain for the Queen.
The murmuring intensifies as Goffred's manuscripts grow more obvious and as the courtyard actually starts to fill up. There are a whole range of reactions, from bringing them to the Guard to throwing them on the ground, crumpled up, to folding and pocketing them. And everyone is talking about them.
The courtyard itself is rimmed in rich red tapestries and flowing with white rose petals that float slowly from above. Dozens of guards stand at attention at every corner, headed by Sabina Merrin, who stands very near the chopping block itself.
Burahl looks at the people murmuring, eventually seeing the leaflets and hearing some small talk about them. He then looks up at Goffred with a raised eyebrow.
"Whatever did you do in that spare time we had?"
Though he isn't sure just yet, Burahl suspects Goffred might be the only of the other three to have anything to do with this true gossip being distributed.
He then looks at the chopping block and stage and listens with one ear to Fredo's answer.
"I think this is too much of a spectacle for a beheading. It's not a joyous occasion whatever the case, so why bother with all these flowers?"
Raijinn tries to ignore the stares of the nobility as he walks through their ranks, but their murmurs and expressions make it clear that while he may walk among them, he is not, and will never be, one of them.
"Apologies for my late arrival. I got, ah, caught up talking to my sword."
Raijinn glances around the courtyard, unsure of what to make of the crowd. Their interest seems to have shifted from him to some paper flies. As Raijinn sees a guard crush one of the pamphlets in his hand, he curiously picks one up from the floor and reads through it, his eyes growing wider as he does so.
Already looking around and planning an exit strategy, Raijinn says nothing about the papers, but turns quickly to Thaven. "Is the girl safe?"
"But this is supposed to be a joyous occasion, Burahl" says Fredo sarcastically. "As joyous as the final excision of a tumor from a loved one's body. How fascinating that not everyone seems to feel that way." He keeps his own face impassive, but Cat, looking up from around Fredo's feet, starts purring at the sight of Pauli's handiwork. Fredo picks her up and starts scratching behind her ears.
"As for me, I spent the afternoon catching up with an old friend. It's a shame he couldn't come, but by then it was too late to change the invitation." He squirms a little at the sight of some of the attendees handing their leaflets over to the Guard. Kroft will probably figure out he had them printed. He is pretty sure his draft language has hewed to his promise to her, but while a technicality like that might spare him a cell, it probably won't stop her being upset.
As our motley crew settles into an unobtrusive space in the castle square to observe the proceedings, several trumpeteer-heralds emerge with massive bronze trumpets and put the mouthpieces to lips in preparation for the announcement of the Queen's arrival.
As the four notes ring through the stone square, the Queen emerges onto the platform at the head of the square, arms outstretched, and clad in a magnificent (and likely exorbitantly expensive) red gown, the brooch the heroes recovered for her, and the crown of Korvosa's monarchs, a huge gold-and-rubies affair. Polite applause erupts in the square from the assembled nobles as she begins her speech. Nearby, behind her left shoulder stand a pair of guards holding a manacled and hooded figure and a massive man carrying an equally massive two-handed axe. Behind her right shoulder stands her bodyguard, Sabina Merrin.
Before the Queen can get more than a few words out, though, a voice cries out from within the crowd. The assembly separates from the speaker, likely because of his words, and clears the way for a clear view.
An aristocratic-looking and thin man, blonde hair thinning on top of his head and a fine blue coat on, shouts at the Queen while waving a single piece of paper above his head. "Wait! Is this the truth?"
Smiling charmingly, Ileosa leans downward towards the nobleman. "Is what the truth?"
He approaches her, holding the paper up. "Was this woman's trial truly falsified? A public inquiry certainly seems appropriate if it was."
Ileosa takes the paper from his hands, despite the cautioning touch from her bodyguard, and quickly scans it, her diplomatic smile quickly developing into a smirk and then into a frown. Her eyes flick from it to the expectant middle-aged man below her, and without dipping her chin again, she says "Please take this man to the dungeons. Such frivolities are unacceptable in the face of the the importance of tonight's event."
This leaves the nobleman open-mouthed in shock while a triplet of guards descend from the platform to seize him. When the chatter and angry words begin to spread through the crowd, the Queen spares them a single rageful glance between the crowd and the chopping block, and it slowly dies down. As the protesting nobleman is being dragged away, up the Ramp and into the castle, her smile reappears and with a flourish, she begins her speech.
"“Fellow Korvosans! You have suffered greatly these past few weeks. Homes have burned, family members have died, fortunes have been lost. I feel your suffering, for not only have I lost a beloved husband, but with each riot, each burning home, each act of anarchy, my heart bleeds a little more. This has been a trying time for us, yet the torment is at an end. Before you is the face of your anguish and pain. Do not be deceived by this murderer’s timid nature—she is a black-hearted assassin, a seductress and sinner, a viper amidst us all."
Here, she gestures, and the men behind her bring up the manacled figure and pull off the hood. The woman revealed is clearly not Trinia Sabor, but to most if not all of the remaining present, they likely wouldn't know the difference between this slight, short, blonde woman and Trinia herself.
"I offer you all her death as a salve against the hatred and hurt you have suffered. Her death will not rebuild Korvosa, nor will it bring back the king, yet tomorrow will be a new dawn—a dawn over a city ready to rise from the edge of anarchy to become stronger than ever before! And so, without further delay, let us usher in this new dawn with justice! OFF WITH HER HEAD!"
"Trinia" is forced onto her knees and then her neck is pressed into the chopping block. The headsman hefts his axe, brings it high above his head, and swings down, hard...
Burahl watches on as the axe comes down and shakes his head.
"Her justice can be seen all too clearly for the people here, the adjectives she gave 'Trinia' seem more appropriate to her me thinks. The one man who was brave enough now was arrested for it, at least it will get the people talking I guess. I hope he manages to stay alive." he speaks softly.
As the noise in the crowd dies down and the crowd seems to disperse, Burahl seems to get restless himself.
"I've had enough of this farce, shall we go?" Burahl murmurs to his friends.
Thaven frowns as the spectacle unfolds. He's glad it's not Trinia up there for real, but he's disturbed that a lawful monarch would just make up some poor person to die for a crime, instead of admitting they hadn't really caught the killer. Looking around at the Guards, and the officials present here, he starts to doubt, maybe for the first time, certainly not for the last, whether the leadership of Korvosa really has Korvosa's best interests at heart.
Raijinn stares in horror as the execution is preparing to take place. He digs quickly through his mind, in search of some kind of spell that will stop this, and comes up with nothing. Defeat and shame begin to cloud his mind with the knowledge that he did, could not, do enough. Even though Trinia was safe, the Queen was ready to let someone else die just the same. And now that nobleman was to be arrested.
Raijinn grits his teeth and forces himself to stare at the stage, feeling powerless, but at the same time determined to never forget this moment.
Fredo crosses his arms and looks up at the chopping block. There is nothing more he can do. It is as he had feared from the start of the rioting. Without structure and a goal, the initial promising rumblings, the suspicion of the Queen's own hand in the King's death, had been diluted, then buried under the accusations against Trinia. Fredo's and Pauli's last-minute intervention hadn't been nearly enough. The Bank of Abadar should be able to get their man out of jail; he will have to try and help them.
In the meantime, Fredo knows he can incite the crowd to disrupt the event. A skeleton pulled from his robe could do that. But it would serve no purpose, raise no doubts, promote no alternative, and save no victim. It would be a petulant gesture to disrupt the Queen's pageant of autocracy, and would probably get a number of people hurt or arrested. He blinks once, and keeps watching as the axe comes down.
After the conclusion of the trial, it's a fairly simple affair for our heroes to slip out of the castle courtyard unnoticed. Each has his own thoughts about what's happened here, and each processes his anger in his own way.
Here, however, ends their official association. Given the events of the last several days, and the relative peace settling over the city, Field Marshall Kroft has no more work for them as a group. She does inform them that the Shoanti left the city without incident, children, Trinia, and a last-minute addition of Akiki in tow.
The events of the past week put you strongly at unease, and you keep in frequent contact with the Field Marshall as well as the friends you've made to ensure that you're there when you're needed next.
As you rest in your apartment, there is a slight disturbance. At first, it begins only with a shuffling of the pages around you and then it builds into a swirl of power as Zellara manifests before you.
"That was horrible, Goffred. It was horrifying. I can't...I can't even express my disdain for tonight's proceedings. What are we to do in the face of such contempt for human life?"
Vencarlo Orisini flashes a wide grin and a wave as he sees that you notice him and moves to shake your hand. "Raijinn, if I remember correctly?"
Nodding, he continues. "Listen, I have a proposition for you. I've heard a lot about you, both from Cressida and from...street tales, and now, taking a closer look at you, I can see the descriptions aren't exaggerated."
He gives Raijinn a once-over. He's right, Raijinn truly is an impressive figure. Thickly muscled and healthy-looking, he also moves with the grace of a dancer and has a knowing gleam in his eye. There is no small amount of irony that his bestial appearance prevents him from really finding acceptance in society despite his great power.
"My proposition is this: Would you be interested in becoming my student? I see great potential within you and I would be honored to be the one to shape it."
Following a short talk with the Commandant in a room in the Citadel, Endrin gives Thaven permission to re-join the Sable Company, and that he ought to report the following day to get re-acquainted and to speak about selecting a mount. After all, "It's a sad day in Korvosa when a Jack isn't in uniform".
Burahl opens the door quietly to his shop, after having taken care of not being seen entering his shop all too obviously. Though his hidden mailbox is bursting through all the new requests.
With a sigh he pulls them out and takes a seat on a stool near his counter. He reads through all the requests and sorts them out on urgency and simplicity. The most urgent and simplest orders he will put first, then the urgent difficult orders, the same with non-urgent requests.
Between reading the requests and sorting them he opens a notebook he didn't take with him when he left. Selecting a few days for completing orders, then a day to visit Goffred, Raijinn and Thaven after he's done.
It takes some time to sort the pile of requests, but after all the paperwork is done, he pulls out a comfy seat from under his counter and sits back lazily until an idea pops into his mind.
"I need a drink." He says to himself. Walking to his cabinet of ingredients he takes out a sealed pot which contains a fine brown powder.
"The most expensive ingredient I ever bought." he grins to himself. "But what would we do in life without some delicacies from time to time." He mixes the brown powder with some hot milk and then adds some brandy to it.
He kicks up his feet on a small chair and enjoys the peace and quiet he has right now, a whole lot different than the past days. I should prepare for the future, I should make a list of what I might need. I expect we will hear from Marshall Kroft again sooner or later. Better be prepared.
Raijinn smiles at Vencarlo, clasping the man's hand as he talks, but his eyes quietly study him. Despite his gruff appearance, Raijinn is polite and speaks kindly to the man, somewhat eager to catch up, but he is feeling somewhat distracted as well.
It was no secret to Raijinn that he was worried of feeling directionless upon leaving the employ of Kroft. Burahl and Fredo had their professions to go back to, Thaven was given a permanent position. Even Akiki left with her sister and the tribe, off on some new adventure far away from the dangers of Korvosa.
But the Tiefling had not decided what he was going to do with himself, and his mind was wrapped up with that when Vencarlo approached. As the man got to the heart of the matter, Raijinn noted that it seemed like he had come at the perfect time, but he still felt a bit hesitant about it. He had seen a lot of power recently, and what it did to people, and he was both unsure of having more himself, and giving someone else any over him.
Brow slightly furrowed, but eyes now gleaming with possibility, Raijinn looked at the man and asked, "What do you have in mind?"
Burahl looks pretty surprised at the anonymous letter for a paralysis poison.
None of my usual contacts or customers has this, I wonder who would pick that up? Also the only poison I could think of is the Tears of Death and that is a costly poison. Well above my humble ingredient's list. He taps with his fingers on the table as he contemplates this.
I'll have to see who picks it up and perhaps have a ruse up my sleeve should things go violent. Blue Whinnis, Oil of Taggit and Drow poison have a similar effect, simply knocking them unconscious, so why want someone paralyzed...A concentrated dosage of Blue whinnis on a sharp end of a bottle should suffice to get some information from the man. We'll see what happens.
Burahl adds new potions to the list he can sell, writing an apology for one of his customers who wnats a Reduce Person potion, as he doesn't have the recipe for it yet.
The next day he starts to work on all his orders, getting the healing and restorative potions out first, then the Enlarge Person. As he is ready with all the orders and goes on his route to deliver when the evening falls, he stops by a shop that sells slightly magical items, mostly second-hand.
"Sorry for troubling you at this hour, but would you perchance have any old formulae books or spellbooks lying around?"
Thaven's return to the Sable Company is both a blessing and a confusion. A blessing because it means he has fulfilled his father's legacy and finally beaten the addiction that cost him so much. A confusion because for the first time in his life, he's not certain that the Sable Company is where he ought to be. His work with the others, that feeling of rightness and action and um, other emotions, seem to him more real than the duty and obligations to the Sable Company.
Still, it is with a happy heart that he heads to the stables to meet his new partner. The hippogriff he's assigned is a young female with a tawny coat and sleek lines. He's told she's known as Daisy, but even his first meeting with her tells him differently. As he begins to groom her, beginning the bonding process, he abruptly renames her 'Whisper'. As he feeds her the raw bloody meat that 'griffs enjoy, she seems to take to the name with a passion.
The remaining two weeks fly by, literally. Thaven spends every spare moment he has on Whisper's back, flying low over the city on patrol or on pleasure. Things in the city seem to be tenser than ever, a taunt feeling of a bow string about to fire. It makes him nervous to think about, and he avoids thinking as much as he can, but images of the execution of the Trinia-doppelganger haunts him. Not for the last time does he consider taking Whisper and flying off to find the fugitive bard and finally tell her how he feels.
Of course, that's nonsense. And there's always patrols and guard duty and such. Too much to do...
The clinking of glass and the acrid smell of burning and mixing reagents fill up your days, and you're met with many a happy customer as you deliver on your promises, one by one.
The magic shop-owner, a short and young black-haired man, pushes his eyebrows together quizzically at the request. "I don't normally get requests for spellbooks, but I'm sure I could find one or two. What are you looking for?"
When not soaring above the city skyline, Thaven is finding himself increasingly in the company of one Grau Soldado, the Guard that Thaven re-inspired to get clean and rejoin active duty with the Guard. He's looking much better nowadays, now that he's clean-shaven and he's gotten back to work and he's not drinking as much as he used to be.
The pair spar from time to time, and it turns out that Grau is more than a passable swordsman, and is in fact quite talented.
Other than that, the clouds and the flap of wings keep Thaven company through the weeks.
The legendary swordmaster laughs before saying, "Lessons, of course! Your friends and your passion for the well-being of Korvosa inspires me and as much as I care for her, I'm not exactly in my prime anymore. Teaching others is how I can help my beloved city."
He pats the exquisite rapier at his hip before looking back at Raijinn. "So, what do you say? Would you like to learn from me?"
"Just some basics will do, mainly spells to be used on others as well. A book with Reduce Person and spells like that for example would do fine."
Burahl says as he looks about the rest of the shop and nods.
"If you have a few scrolls instead of a useful spellbook, that would be just as good as well."
"Oh! Of course." Raijinn says as Vencarlo pats his sword, and laughs along with him. "I wasn't sure which you had in mind" He explains, lowering his voice somewhat, and confessing that "I have been dabbling in magic of late."
He shakes his head, "But I haven't been able to stomach everything that I have seen, or even done. It seems to me that I may do well to study it more, but not today." Pausing for a moment to admire the man's sword, he thought of his own, and how such a beautiful and powerful being needed someone with training and finesse to wield it. "As to your proposition, it would be an honor to train under you."
"You are right to want to help, as I do, for I fear that she will need much more assistance in the months to come."
Returning home, tiredly, you walk in the door to discover that everything is as you've left it. The clutter of your small apartment is familiar, the smell is of home, and a notice rests in your mail slot of the execution of your most recent client due to your failure to show up in court. A small matter - he was likely guilty in either case.
The events of the past week put you strongly at unease, and you keep in frequent contact with the Field Marshall as well as the friends you've made to ensure that you're there when you're needed next.
As you rest in your apartment, there is a slight disturbance. At first, it begins only with a shuffling of the pages around you and then it builds into a swirl of power as Zellara manifests before you.
"That was horrible, Goffred. It was horrifying. I can't...I can't even express my disdain for tonight's proceedings. What are we to do in the face of such contempt for human life?"
Any plans? You have a few weeks to play with.
"We fight," says Fredo simply. For a second he grips the edges of the notice like he's about to crumple it, but after a moment he files it with his other correspondence. He then pulls a stack of blank papers to himself and begins writing out letters to others he had helped over the past weeks and years.
Dear Pauli,
Thank you once again for your invaluable help yesterday. You showed great courage, and while we failed to stop the execution, at least some of those present began to question the Queen's story. While the execution and continued repression will be the death of the street protests before too long, I believe we con continue the work we have done in preparation for the next inevitable round of unrest. If the past few weeks have demonstrated anything, it is that Korvosa needs real leadership, and that it does not need the Queen's brand.
If you agree, please come to 3 Lancet Street at 9:00 PM this Sunday. I would like to discuss the publication of a regular newsletter to disseminate news of further abuses by Castle Korvosa, the distribution of said paper from our respective businesses, the purchase of an abandoned butcher shop as a means of further outreach. Please ask along anyone you feel you can trust. Be assured, as always, that I will keep any communications between us strictly confidential. While you are under no obligation to do the same, I would appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Fredo
Please allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Goffred Giulianoff. I do not know if you remember, but during the first few days of the street protests, my friends and I convinced a group of muggers to leave you be. I remember well your association with Master Orisini, and have to assume you know he did not attend the execution of the alleged traitor Trinia Sabor yesterday in protest against the form and content of the allegations and the speediness and severity of the punishment. I find his stand admirable. I also find the precedent the Queen has set by arresting an Abadaran cleric for questioning her troubling; she may move against powerful institutions and families now that the people are quelled.
If his opinion, or mine, or your gratitude towards me and my friends carry any weight with you, I would like to see you at a meeting I am hosting at 3 Lancet Street at 9:00 PM this Sunday. I was thinking we could investigate any more possible abuses by Castle Korvosa and disseminate what we learn. If you plan to come, please feel free to invite anyone you feel you can trust. And please be assured that I will keep any communications between us strictly confidential. While you are under no obligation to do the same, I would appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Goffred Giulianoff, Esq.
It is with great pleasure that I begin this correspondence. I was heartened by your decision not to attend the execution of the alleged traitor Trinia Sabor yesterday, though I believe you would have been pleased with the fact that those assembled did not wholeheartedly accept the Queen's version of events. You, my friends, and I worked well together in foiling the Chelaxian ambassador's plot against Korvosa, but in light of the doubts surrounding the allegations against Sabor, it seems that the city faces a more profound threat: one from within, and from above.
I believe the recent unrest could have built to a movement to expose these abuses, if only there had been an organization in place to guide the people before Eodred's death. As it is, propaganda and repression seem to have won the day for now. But there will come another opportunity, I am sure of it, and I would like to be ready when it does. I would also like to be by your side. If you agree, please come to a meeting I am organizing at 3 Lancet Street at 9:00 PM this Sunday, where we can discuss ways to investigate and disseminate information about any future abuses by Castle Korvosa and ways we can use our respective businesses to coordinate and conduct outreach. Please invite anyone you can trust. Be assured that I will keep any communications between us strictly confidential. While you are under no obligation to do the same, I would appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Goffred Giulianoff, Esq.
"What do you think?" he asks Zellara when he's done, leaning back in his chair and massaging his writing hand. "I would invite Verik and Grau as well, but I don't want word of this spreading to Kroft. As we have long since established, there are limits as to how much her position allows her to help with things like this, and I am not sure even Vencarlo could convince her to look the other way."
He folds the letters up one by one and addresses them. Majenko, he thinks, First of all, thank you for helping keep Trinia safe. Now I need another favor; could you please deliver these for me? I have to go to the Bank of Abadar and see if they've freed their man yet, and then to tell our friends to come to Zellara's on Sunday.
"Very well, Goffred. You'll do Korvosa proud, as long as you don't get yourself killed in the meantime. I see grave things in store, Goffred. You may want to be careful."
Majenko likes to travel around the city, still stays in his old roosting place, and still joins in on the flights of pseudodragons that attack the imps from time to time, so his schedule is much the same as it was before he was captured by Barvasi, with one exception... that he visits each of his rescuers on a weekly basis. On one of his visits, Majenko gladly agrees to deliver the letters to their recipients, flying off into the evening with the envelopes clutched in his little black claws.
Vencarlo is intrigued by Raijinn's magical prowess, and asks the man to show him some of his spells when they're together for their lessons, but to refrain from using his spells during the actual teaching portion of the lessons.
The actual lessons begin posthaste, and in his eagerness to spend time molding the young tiefling, Vencarlo schedules several lessons each week. Not only that, but Vencarlo offers to let the tiefling stay with him for as long as he'd like, giving him several of the rooms in Vencarlo's sumptuous villa.
The lessons take place in the villa, in a special open-air square cleared specifically for this purpose. Dozens of weapons adorn wall sheaths in the room and the dirt floor is easy to move around in. Vencarlo spends the days demonstrating techniques and indicating that Raijinn should attempt to replicate him. When the techniques had been practiced to Vencarlo's satisfaction, the pair would duel.
They used blunted versions of the swords they wielded in deadly combat, Vencarlo employing a crude and blunt rapier while giving Raijinn what amounts to a curved length of iron. During their duels, Raijinn is able to observe that while Vencarlo is clearly a master swordsman, and several degrees of magnitude more skilled and experienced than Raijinn is, Raijinn has natural aptitude and power in heaps where Vencarlo does not. Vencarlo is clearly past his prime, and the muscular weakness shows in his fighting style.
Even with his physical disadvantages, he's still regularly able to whip Raijinn's ass, but he does so gently, and never pointlessly, always pointing out the gap in Raijinn's defensive stance that allowed Vencarlo to get through.
On the Saturday before the Sunday of Goffred's choosing, Vencarlo approaches Raijinn in his room a few hours after their lesson. Waving a letter, he mentions that a friend of Raijinn has sent Goffred a letter asking for his presence, and Vencarlo would like Raijinn to be there. This comes not a moment too soon as the doorbell rings - it's Goffred, there to request Raijinn's presence!
Zellara's is practically bursting with energy on Sunday, as Amin Jalento, Vencarlo, Goffred's friend Pauli, as well as Goffred's more recent friends and companions, Thaven, Burahl, and Raijinn, attend Goffred's event. The abandoned house has been cleaned up a bit and even some furniture has been brought in for the comfort of all in attendance. As the final group gathered settles in, Amin Jalento inquires as to the reason for their attendance from his spot on the couch.
Thaven stands somewhat at dis-ease, wearing his new Sable Company Marine uniform. He looks simultaneously pleased with himself and a bit ashamed.
Raijinn stood in wait for their host, his eyes glancing around the room, pleased at how differently everything looked since they had first met under the roof. It didn't seem very long ago, and yet there was so much that was different.
He felt the soreness in his shoulders that came from training, and reflected that the way ones muscles felt after being nearly beaten to death was so very different from how they felt when they were damaged in the right way to grow back even stronger than they had been before. He looked at the others and wondered if that wasn't the case with them, either. Thaven looked proud wearing his new uniform, and Burahl looked as healthy and knowledgable as ever. It was hard to believe how far they'd come.
Still, the reunion after a few weeks filled Raijinn with a feeling of bittersweetness. It was lovely to see everyone again, but the weeks had gone by so quickly that he hadn't had an opportunity to see any of them before this. It seemed to him that that would be the trend more and more, that years may go by without them seeing each other.
Change wasn't always bad, though. Raijinn had been learning a lot from Vencarlo. The man even encouraged him to practice with magic, which Raijinn was becoming more comfortable with. With Vencarlo's desire for demonstrations, and his apt encouragement, Raijinn had mastered control of some of his weaker spells, and was now once again interested in finding more. But the fear of what could happen, of what he had seen, still hung over him, and he wondered if he was ready, if he'd ever feel ready.
Fredo arrives at Lancet Street early, carrying a number of parcels. Cat curls up in front of the fireplace while he sets out loaves of bread, a deep bowl of cucumber and tomato salad, and a platter of sliced chicken. A few minutes before nine o'clock, he goes to the door to welcome anyone who chooses to come. He's reasonably pleased at the turnout, though a little disappointed that Majenko didn't show. He tries to catch up with everyone as much as possible while they do the same with each other, eat, and make themselves comfortable.
"I'm glad you asked," says Fredo, when things have quieted down a bit and Amin asks why they were here. "I asked you here for two reasons. First, to share a piece of information that I did not want to risk putting in a letter." He gives Pauli a smile, then turns back to Amin. "Most of you know this already, and the rest have no doubt heard the rumors, but the woman who was executed last week was not who the Queen claimed her to be, and that person was, herself, no murderer or traitor. I do not know that person's exact whereabouts, but there are two places she cannot be: Korvosa, and the Boneyard." He pauses for a moment to let that sink in.
"I'm entrusting you with this information because it illustrates a larger point. Ileosa wants to be an autocrat, and that cannot be allowed. I think people know this. Remember that on the night of Eodred's death the animating slogans were that she had had him killed and that her ascension was a coup. That clarity was lost in the weeks that followed, partly thanks to propaganda coming from Castle Korvosa.
[b]"If there had been anyone else to listen to, I'm convinced that propaganda would not have been so effective. And I'm equally convinced that Ileosa will, at some point, overreach and provoke popular anger again. What I want is to try and organize an alternative now, some organ people will listen to, that can formulate slogans and offer demands. That means four things: we need to learn the truth behind whatever Castle Korvosa says, we need to make sure it gets heard as widely as possible, we need to make sure it is believed where it is heard, and we need to convince others to help.
"I have some ideas for how to do this. I shared them in my letters: I'd like to start a printed paper for which any of us might research and write - under pseudonyms - for those of us with businesses to covertly distribute it to our clients, and to have us all buy into a cooperative food distributory to build goodwill among the masses and reach those who don't normally need or can't afford boilerplate, fencing training, potions, or legal representation. I can contribute a thousand gold sails to the latter. But I want to hear if you agree, and your ideas if you do."
Thaven frowns as he listens. "Fredo, she IS the Queen. Even a bad Queen is still a Queen. And I... I serve the Queen. I can't be a part of this propaganda. Not that I'd have anything to say. I'm not exactly the writing type."
"You might want to look at your contract again, Thaven," says Fredo. "The Sable Company is commanded by the Seneschal, not by the monarch. But if you do not wish to be a part of this, then I cannot make you."
Thaven frowns. "I know. But no one's seen the Seneschal in a long time. I mean..." Thaven swallows hard. "I mean, I just got back into the Company. And I won't report you or anything, I swear! But I don't think I'd be much use in this, anyway."
Raijinn looks surprised by Thaven's response, and chooses his words carefully, replying simply, "Certainly the Company must serve the city and not the ruler?" The tiefling looks as though he wants to elaborate, but does not want to push his opinions on the Marine.
Turning to Fredo, Raijinn continues. "I do not feel right keeping the money we were paid under the employ of the guard, in light of everything that has happened. If it will help, it's yours." He looks at Vencarlo out of the corner of his eye to see how the man is reacting. The two had not yet discussed politics to this extent. Raijinn knew that getting caught would mean death, and he did not wish to speak for Vencarlo, yet at the same time, thought it important that the other man know where he stood. He turned back to Fredo, saying, "And anything else I can do, of course."