Zileska traces her finger back and forth across the arched coil of her whip as she speaks up.
"If we wanted to we could've snuck in through the back, or we could've mounted a full military assault, but instead we came here to talk and to ask you to do your job as steward," says the priestess. "So let's let that one lie."
"The Princess has a right by law and a claim by lineage, and that's what's at stake here. But let's consider the options. What if you don't return authority to her? Then her authority is being challenged - directly, by you, her sworn steward. Now that's nothing new. Taldor's awash in such challenges recently. Regicide. Bloodbaths in the Senate. Law, apparently, stands for little."
She makes a slight "hmm" with that last comment - law, after all, never having been one of her favorites.
"So you've argued that you're more experienced and more settled here, and thus you should remain in charge. That the social order will collapse if you're removed, and anarchy would result. Whether or not that is preferable is an exercise for a different forum; but realistically can you be simultaneously arguing that anarchy would be the inevitable bad result of stepping aside when doing so is quite literally doing your legal obligation of your position? That seems a bit of a dissonant position. Doing the socially correct thing... leads to social chaos and disorder?"
"Now I am no legal aide, nor a noblewoman; just a priestess. Perhaps I am not seeing the whole picture. Perhaps you could explain how having the rightful princess, approved by the Senate, take on the role for which she has trained since birth in a succession that was planned and for which you were duly obligated to act as a steward, would lead to total chaos and the breakdown of social order?"
"Listen to you, A priestess of Calistria advocating for law and order. Is this really what you want? What your goddess wants? Perhaps you should take some time in prayer and see what the Savored Sting has to say about your actions here. It sounds awfully Abadarran to me."
"If you don't understand the difference between advocating law and cognitive dissonance then there will be some problems with the critical thinking necessary for administration," manages Zileska.
Bartelby smirks. "Perhaps. Either way, it seems my observations may have hit a little close to home."
"You're in a lose-lose situation right now - if you retain your position then you will have internal strife from effectively all corners of the county. You'll be delaying the inevitable and the next time your stewardship is challenged it will not be pretty. The people of Meratt no longer want you in charge and the only way you will be able to maintain your position would be through measures so brutal that you will only breed even more resentment from them.
"You would rule solely through fear and intimidation and that will only galvanise more of the county against you. There is already one vigilante intent on slaughtering the nobility and who has already come close to ending your life. How many more would follow in the Night Swan's footsteps if your governance went from merely exorbitant taxation to violent repression?"
Bartelby sighs. "I will admit, I may have made decisions as count that put undue stress on the people of Meratt. But it's never too late to realize the error of one's ways. Perhaps instead of trying to usurp my authority, you would like to work alongside me? I have been impressed by the strides you have made in Stachys in just a few short months. Think of all the good you could do at my side!"
"And how would that look to the people? They were fed up with you before we had any intention of coming here! None of the citizens here will ever respect you again, few of the other nobility here in Meratt respect you more than law and duty requires and with things as they are now... you will never be seen as a true ruler of Meratt ever again."
"I don't need their respect. As long as I rule here, I will do as I please. I was born for this role, and I will not relinquish it so easily," Bartelby concludes confidently.
"There's a story that we tell acolytes about a man who was wronged by his best friend, hounded, unjustly hurled into a gaol and tortured with only a priest for a companion; but he persevered and escaped, followed a map that the priest had given him to a great treasure, then hunted down his old friend, exacted bloody vengeance and won back his lady love. He retired into luxury with his treasures and his lady, all from a man who began as a cobbler."
"So what I'm saying is, don't discount people so quickly and assume you don't need their respect. You never know which way fortune will turn, and maybe tomorrow you'll find yourself dodging the barbs of someone you treated poorly yesterday."
Bartelby scoffs. "Please! You think to sway me with parables? A pretty mouth like yours is wasted on words. Perhaps you should put it to better use in your duties as a sacred whore."
The insult lacks bite, though, and the count seems less determined than before.
"You put your faith in Princess Eutropia, but she doesn't have the most reliable track record. She has a reputation for being a firebrand and, honestly, a bit of a thug. She would rather bloody the nose of a noble who offended her than engage in reasoned debate and negotation. Is this the kind of person you wish to see in charge of Meratt?"
"And yet your resort to foul mouthed insults in an attempt to win an argument?" Melodie responds, pointedly. "The tactic of a child with no good ideas of his own! Besides, shouldn't you consider your reputation? As a man more concerned with his own purse and pocket than the good of his holdings? What does it say about you that the Night Swan - a vigilante who cried out against nobles bleeding the land dry, came to Lotheedar and has been active here for a year or more? I would say that you are the one lacking a reliable track record, the princess on the other hand is beloved by the people. Can you honestly say that about yourself?"
Allegory – Knw History (+11)
Baiting – Bluff (+13) E1
Emotional Appeal – Sense Motive (+11)
Flattery – Knowledge Nobility (+11)
Logic – Knowledge: Arcana + Local (+13/+10)
Mockery – xxx
Presence – Intimidate (+13) E1
Red Herring – Perform Oratory (+10)
Rhetoric – Diplomacy (+11) E1 [Used x1]
Wit – xxx
Determination: 8
"Love!" Bartelby exclaims. "Don't talk to me of love, Lady d'Valois. Love is not an asset, but a liability. Love makes you weak. Vulnerable. What's the point of letting somebody into your heart if they only intend to rip it apart?"
His voice wavers slightly, and he looks away from Melodie. The mesmerist senses that the count is legitimately upset after that exchange.
"I don't need love. I am a man of pragmatism, not romanticism. The best solution is the most efficient one. The princess's policies are tainted by idealism and false notions of 'social justice.' She will make a poor countess, and an even poorer empress."
"Love does not make you weak! Zhi says, her voice strong. "Love is strength."
She glances at Melodie.
"It sustains you when nothing else will. It can make you brave enough to do things that you never would have. It can bond people together to withstand anything. You dismiss it as weakness only because you know that you don't have the love of the people. A leader with her people's love will always be stronger then one without."
Bartelby looks between Zhi and Melodie. "Ah, of course. Gul told me of the nature of your relationship. You do know what she is, don't you? The mismatched eyes, the power of her voice. She is not human. Do you really think the offspring of a monster is capable of love?"
The strength of the women's relationship causes this tactic to fall flat.
"Maxillar Pythareus is the rightful heir to Taldor. Grand Prince Stavian adopted him in a legally binding ceremony. I will recognize his authority and nobody else's."
Bartelby looks between Zhi and Melodie. "Ah, of course. Gul told me of the nature of your relationship. You do know what she is, don't you? The mismatched eyes, the power of her voice. She is not human. Do you really think the offspring of a monster is capable of love?"
"With all my heart," Zhi says. Her words are directed to Bartleby, but her eyes are on Melodie.
Melodie returns the look, her smile beaming brightly enough to light up the room. Even Bartelby's digs at her heritage, normally such a sensitive area, fail to break the purity of the moment.
Sara had been obediently standing back for some time, barely able to restrain herself from wrapping her hands around Bartleby's neck, but ahe reaches her tipping point. "Pythareus? Him? You know, your entire family may be self serving, vainglorious lunatics, but there is one glittering exception: we all work for Martella, you see, and have since the Exaltation Gala.
"Maybe the word didn't reach here, but Pythareus walked out unscathed, through the battle without drawing a weapon. He is complicit in the Grand Prince's actions, a traitor to the country. And you call Eutropia a firebrand just cause she used to duel people?"
She pulls off her bloody glove and shows the scar cut into her wrist, the Mark of Urgathoa. "I went to jail right, for aiding and abetting a necromancer. But it's worse than that, and I told him so in confidence, told him," she glances at the other girls, not having admitted what she's about to reveal, "Told him that I didn't just steal bodies, I would kill the sick and dying, or even just the unlucky traveler, if it meant I thought I could get away with it. Just push them down the stairs or suffocate them, as long as no one would be surprised by their passing or miss them. I am deeply ashamed of it. But I told him that, and he smiled and kissed my scar. Twice. The man admired me for not being afraid to kill when it benefited me, then walked out unscathed after killing when it benefited him. He should not lead our country."
She takes a deep breath, unable to resist a last minute cheap dig.
"And you, dear Bartleby, half a leader, waste of a man, are not fit to lead a queue, let alone a county."
"Martella!" Bartelby spits her name like a curse. "Of course, it would make sense that you would serve that mongrel. She's not fit to bear the Lotheed name. Her birth was an insult to my long-suffering mother and a stain on a great family legacy. Her lack of magical aptitude is proof that her spirit is broken and corrupt. Excising her from the family was the only thing that brought me joy in the wake of my father's passing. Speak no more to me of my so-called 'sister'!"
In his rage, the count seems to lose sight of the heart of the debate. He attempts to get back on track.
"Whatever his personal shortcomings, Pythareus commands the might of the Taldan Phalanx. As goes the military, so goes the nation. Eutropia has no chance to win this war for the crown. And when she falls, he will come for you next. And I don't think your end will be a swift one."
"Is superior military power helping you now? No, every last sycophant and lackey has unattached themselves from your pitifully proportioned rear end. So shall it be with Pythareus. At the end of it all, the common people, not the nobility, will decide who deserves the Primogen Crown, and as Eutropia's support base grows, Pythareus' military might will shrink."
"A reduced military is still better than none at all. History shows that when it comes to swords versus plowshares, swords will win every time. Your cause is a futile one."
"We're not debating bows or butter, Bartleby, we're talking who is fit to rule and how that will be decided. Taldor is not Cheliax, and if a military pushes its boots on our throats, we will throw them off. Look at what six young women were able to do because of discontent in your house. If Pythareus brings his sword down on his own nation, people like us will rise and remove him. It is simple."
Bartelby becomes strangely quiet and introspective. "People like you are in short supply. You are definitely a rare breed, the kind that appears maybe once in a generation. Should you survive this war, the bards will sing of your deeds. Should you fail, you will be nothing but a footnote in the history books. The glory of victory and the agony of defeat balances on a knife's edge. I wonder which way you will fall."
The tangent seems to work, distracting you for enough time for the count to regroup.
"I have every confidence in my actions. I know who I am and what I stand for. Whatever happens here, I have no regrets. I was born a Lotheed, and if necessary, I will die a Lotheed." He tightens his grip on his sword cane.
"But can you consider this an honorable death?" Melodie asks, not entirely rhetorically. "If a man dies with no-one to mourn him and no-one who respects him, then how can his death possible be worthwhile?
Managing to non-plus Bartelby for a moment Melodie abruptly changes tactics. [b]"And even then, why must you die Bartelby? Your sister is by the Princess's side, you have great knowledge and many connections. You would be a boon to the princess. The halls of power can be open to you, regardless of who rules in Meratt."
Baiting – Bluff (+13) E1
Emotional Appeal – Sense Motive (+11)
Flattery – Knowledge Nobility (+11)
Logic – Knowledge: Arcana + Local (+13/+10)
Mockery – xxx
Presence – Intimidate (+13) E1
Red Herring – Perform Oratory (+10)
Rhetoric – Diplomacy (+11) E1 [Used x1]
Wit – xxx
Determination: 8
"Oh, Count," sighs Zileska. "We believe that you can be a great asset to our country. No matter what else I may be, I am a patriot - I believe in a vision of a great and unified Taldor, one that shakes itself free of the shackles of corruption and lassitude and works again for the prosperity of all its people. If we didn't see in you a chance for the same goal, an opportunity to seek out a better end neither military nor despotic but a rising to the occasion of a turning point in history, we would never have had this meeting. Princess Eutropia has already turned society on its head and now she is fighting hard to make sure that our beloved country doesn't fall to civil war. You know her history as a duelist - and you know that she can be magnanimous even to those with whom she disagrees."
Zileska reaches out a hand, impassioned. "You have been a loyal steward all these years. Continue to be a great man! Don't turn this into yet another salvo of war. Work with us, with the Princess - she will still have need of mindful, intelligent allies! This is your chance to be at the start of a great change sweeping our country. Let her rise now and you can rise with her - you are a man of logic and erudition. You must know that this is more than just shaking out of the habits of your ingrained lifestyle, but an opportunity to move out of one sphere now and into a new one soon - a chance to be one of the voices that reshapes the glory of Taldor with your wit, your insight, and your advice. And those who shape that future will reap its many rewards."
Bartelby is silent as he considers Melodie's words.
"Martella would never accept me. If I surrender to you, she will taunt and torment me as revenge for everything I did to her as a child. Better to die than suffer such indignities."
Zileska responds, and once more the count falls silent.
"Your offer is a tempting one. But there is no way the princess and I will ever see eye to eye. I am the embodiment of everything she hates, the poster child for the oppressive and decadent patriarchy she seeks to overthrow. To her, I am but a stain on the nation that needs to be wiped away."
"Do not give up. You still have knowledge and connections of value." Melodie replies, trying to tread a fine line between affirming Bartelby's pity and restoring his confidence.
"Martella would be part of your family again, and you have a better chance of achieving something by proving that you can and will do better, than by refusing the try and calling it honor. Eutropia stands for second chances and people working to make Taldor better for others. That is something worthwhile. Your path to redemption is being part of it, not refusing." She ends on a firm note, her back straight, she speaks at him, everything about her body language commanding him to agree with her.
Allegory – Knw History (+11)
Baiting – Bluff (+13) E1
Emotional Appeal – Sense Motive (+11)
Flattery – Knowledge Nobility (+11)
Logic – Knowledge: Arcana + Local (+13/+10)
Mockery – xxx
Presence – Intimidate (+13)
Red Herring – Perform Oratory (+10)
Rhetoric – Diplomacy (+11) E1 [Used x1]
Wit – xxx
Determination: 8
Edge
Awed by Melodie's presence, Bartelby concedes the exchange.
"Lady d'Valois, I have admired you from the moment we met. I apologize for my earlier insults. You have such natural grace and charisma, it is humbling. When we danced at the jubilee, I felt a spark between us. I thought that some day, it might turn into something... I don't know what I thought. If I do surrender to you, can I trust you to be merciful?"
"Yes. You will receive mercy, if you prove yourself worthy of it." Melodie responds, levelly. "And for what it's worth Bartelby, I felt something too. In another time, another life, then perhaps things might have been different between us. You could be a good man Bartelby, for all that you try to hide it."
"You insult her at one turn, implying that she's incapable of love and then in another moment you attempt to appeal to that very nature for mercy."
Zhi shakes her head.
"At every turn, Count, you demonstrate that you are not the man that should be ruling here."
Bartelby exhales, a lengthy sigh full of regrets for what might have been. Then he kneels and offers his sword cane to Melodie. "Very well. You have won. I relinquish my stewardship of Meratt and remand myself to your custody."
Zhi steps forward with Melodie, her weapons at the ready, just in case Bartelby attempts any last minute heroics.
When none are forthcoming, she nods at the Count.
"You have surprised me, Count," she says. "The Lady d'Valois had every confidence that you could be reasoned with. That you would see reason and step down."
She looks at Melodie.
"I wasn't so convinced. It seems that at every turn, she surpasses me."
Zhi looks back at the count. "Give thanks today for her mercy. Her tender heart."
The rogue stows her weapons.
"I know I do."
Melodie takes the sword cane, and holds it out behind herself for one of the others to take.
"You must disarm any remaining defences and command any loyal men you still have here to surrender. Until the Princess arrives you will have to stay at the Grand Bank, or at another suitable place, while we complete our mission and inform Her Highness."
Zileska's eyes slide sideways to Maria, expecting the detective to take the sword cane in trust - being, after all, as close to a neutral party as one will find in this gathering.
"For my part, I have no wish to see you in the gaol," says Zileska. "I trust we can work out a mutually-beneficial path forward in which you will still have a role as a man of noble bearing."
Bartelby scoffs. "The men I thought loyal to me already abandoned the palace. The only ones left are Gul and his clockwork in the observatory, and Cousin Titus and his cronies guarding the entrance to the tower. They are both stubborn sorts. I don't know if they'll accept my orders to stand down."
Sara roughly hoists him up to his feet. "Unlike the others, I still need convincing. While you are certainly welcome to take Lady d'Valois' offer and wait outside like the gutless, weakwilled coward I know you to be, allow me to propose a way to let you prove your new loyalty. You said yourself Martella and the Princess would be suspicious of you. Why not mitigate their worries? Help us get rid of any resistance we meet, your cousin and seneschal for instance, and destroy your uncle's teleportation circle, and I'm sure, no one will have any doubts about your loyalty. Just something to consider."
Melodie catches Sara's eye and shakes her head slowly, making sure that Bartelby can't see her doing it.
Bartelby shakes his head. "No. I've surrendered peacefully, but I'll not raise arms against my allies. That is where I draw the line.
"As for my uncle's teleportation circle... He is a wizard of immeasurable skill. It will be rather difficult to disarm, but if you can harness electricity magic, you'll be able to fry the silver inscriptions and ruin its power. There's a wand of lightning bolt built into a trap in the royal office--disarm it, and you can use the wand."
Bartelby grimaces, a haunted look in his eyes. "When my father died, I became the custodian of Duke Panivar's horrible secrets, locked away in the royal tower. I suspect, like his father before him, that my uncle has mastered immortality. He dabbles in the affairs of life and death as a matter of course. My aunt Veleto? She's been dead for years. My uncle created a facsimile of her within a portrait she had commissioned years earlier: a trompe l'oeil, he called it. She may seem alive, but her heart is hollow. And now she has vanished in the wind, no telling what mischief she is getting up to."
Bartelby looks at Melodie. "But the tower's guardian is the worst part. Panivar bound a planar horror there as a guardian--an ichkoh sahkil called Ehlers. You'll recall the nightmare you had the first night of the jubilee? I fear that it was the result of Ehlers watching you while you slept. The creature is forbidden from harming a Lotheed, but it delights in tormenting visitors. It has even driven several people to suicide over the years. You'll need blessed weapons to do it harm, and luck on your side to keep it from tearing you to pieces." The count shudders with dread.
Taking the offered sword cane when it was clear Bartelby wasn't going to be joining them (just as well, in Maria's mind), she tucked it into a spare loop on her belt.
"Sounds like the office is our first stop, I should be able to get the wand out but I don't trust myself to actually use it."
"So, off to the tower," Zhi says. "You said that the ass, Titus is guarding it? Well then at the very least, you can come with us to attempt to talk him into giving up peacefully. I wouldn't expect you to take up arms against him, but unless you want this to end with us dragging his lifeless body out of here, you'll talk him down."