Katria makes her way to the courtyard, taking in the exotic displays there, murmuring aloud again about how impressive they are.
"They almost rival Kurgess," she notes to a few others around her.
Doritan leans back on his connections, pulling a few strings to help him sabotage the wine.
Katria will approach Kalbio and try to get to know him better.
"So, do you have any idea what the first thing you will do once you become a noble?" she asks.
Katria alerts him and the rest of the group to Dame Trant's movements. You gather in front of the ballroom before opening the door. The room itself is a 30-foot-by-30-foot area, with lavish white marble floors and sturdy wooden walls. The centerpiece of the room is a vast 10-foot-wide gold-trimmed window peering down over the city of Oppara. Chairs and tables are spaced throughout the chamber to promote socializing.
Having witnessed the viperous and drunk Malphene, Elif was relieved when her companions managed to diffuse the situation before she even uttered a word.
With Trant out of the way, at least for now, Maya says to Senator Dou, "You're welcome. I'll be sure to stop by."
After nodding to her companions, Maya parts ways with them and the senator. She returns to the courtyard to try wooing the crowd once more. She has been quite successful in the past, so she hopes to have a repeat performance.
Finding the same spot as before, Maya begins, "Hello once again ye senators and guests of Taldor on this fine Day of Exaltation! I feel the need to once again beseech you. Though your minds may have wandered, the matter of primogeniture is too important to dismiss. You see, primogeniture is..."
Maya continues in that same vein, hoping to cement Lady Martella's agenda in the minds of the nobles.
Elif moved with purpose to return to the Arcade of Triumph to complete her task concerning the High Strategos. Just before moving inside, she stopped to catch her breath and compose herself and then steadily/casually/quietly moved inside, finding a different place/counter nearby the High Strategos to observe him and listen to any other interesting conversations he was having with nobles in the Arcade. (She would occasionally glance down at the cabinets on this side of the room to appear as if she is inspecting the historical items/contents within.)
Having made arrangements before the gala, Doritan finds one of his agents that he planted among the staff in the servant area. He slips him the putrefying agent, and the agent nods in acknowledgment. The man subtly injects it into the wine bottle and replaces the stopper with nobody the wiser.
Kalbio scratches at his collar uncomfortably as Katria approaches. The weaver gives her a big, wide-eyed grin. "Shucks, I don't rightly know! This whole shindig is a sight to see though, ain't it? This is my first time in the big city! I wish my mam and papa could be here to see it, too. I reckon they'd lose their minds! Did you know they have something here called 'indoor plumbing'? You don't have to go outside when you have to do the necessary!"
Katria gets the sense that Kalbio can easily be influenced just by showing kindness or genuine interest in his family or talent.
Meanwhile, Maya returns to the courtyard to proselytize further against primogeniture. Several more guests show their appreciation for her words.
Elif once more disappears into the crowd to get close to High Strategos Pythareus. She is able to overhear him speaking to a few lower-ranking soldiers, mostly about mundane troop dispositions and upcoming operations. He does let slip one particularly interesting comment, though. "Grand Prince Stavian will arrive soon, and when he does, I will be convening with him. I have a good feeling about tonight, men. When all is said and done, all of Taldor's concerns over succession will finally be laid to rest."
Maya, still seeing some improvements in the disposition of the crowd from her past two performances, continues to ply her trade with the nobles in the courtyard, hoping for another breakthrough.
"Primogeniture needs to end and tonight is the night to end it! Lest ye be left in Taldor's past, come along for the journey into Taldor's future. The greater the consensus, the easier the transition."
Watching Trant leave the room, Bernal sighs and looks at one of the letters in his pocket.
"Duke Leonard Centimus...", he mumbles to himself, and steps out of the room and towards the archives, dodging over-enthusiastic would-be senators and their suspicious aides.
Bernal swiftly squeezes through the crowd in the archives, making his way to Duke Centimus. Despite stumbling a few times, he quickly recovers and makes it to the duke's side. The portly half-elf accepts the letter and takes a few moments to read it. "Ah, very good. Thank you, sir. This has proven most elucidating." He folds the message again and deposits it in a compartment on the side of his wheelchair.
Doritan pays another visit to the artifact display, walking by and whisking away the spyglass.
"Oh, yes," Katria agrees with Kalbio, "we've made amazing strides here, that hopefully will go out to more of Taldor in the future. Why back in ..."
She talks excitedly about the advances Taldor has access to, or at least Oppara, probably more than most anyone else would want to hear.
Elif took one of the hidden corridors she noted a servant using earlier and moved down to the kitchens and its bustling cooks and wait staff.
From her place to the side of the clamour, she blended into the crowded space and watched fr the right moment.
If one of the cooks or serving maids hurt themselves (for eg cut or burn), Elif would offer her services to clean and bind the wound quickly (and thus impress them) so they could continue their busy work with little lost time and not incur the wrath/ire of the nobility they were serving.
Doritan snatches the spyglass from its display and heads off into the crowd. After several minutes, he returns for his final quarry, swiping the journal for good measure. With no items left in his collection, Earl Vernisant will be the laughingstock of Oppara very soon!
Kalbio listens to Katria in slack-jawed wonder. "Golly! You sure know a lot about...well, a lot of things! My mam and papa would love you! Tell me more!" The impressionable man begins following the occultist around, so excited and lonely and overwhelmed by the day that he latches on to the first bit of positive attention he's received.
Elif spends time in the servant's area, using her healing skills to tend to minor injuries. Her reputation for treating the servants well starts to spread, and she leaves a lasting positive impression. In addition to hearing some gossip, the head cook Dedrien Nos wishes her well in her political ambitions by donating two potions of delay poison in case she proves less popular with others. The servants also agree to smuggle in the oracle's spear, keeping it hidden just inside the servant area in case she needs it.
Maya continues to impress the Taldan elite in the courtyard, enough to make herself recognizable and entertaining.
Bernal runs Lady Morilla's message up to Martella Lotheed, who reads it with a smile. She gives the swashbuckler a final task to return a file folder that she "borrowed" to its place in the archives. He does so with style and aplomb!
Late in the evening, a silence falls over the gala, and the crowd parts as servants unroll a red carpet through the Arcade of Triumphs and the senate floor. Grand Prince Stavian III and a host of his Ulfen Guard then arrive, ascending the 100 steps to the building. Guests quickly flock to catch a glimpse of Taldor's leader, who briskly moves toward the Emperor's Hall, which is closed for the remainder of the night. Several guards are posted at its entrances to ensure the Grand Prince is undisturbed.
The arrival of the Grand Prince causes some turmoil among the assembled guests. Maxillar Pythareus retreats to convene with the Grand Prince in the Emperor's Hall, while Princess Eutropia recuses herself to partake in several private meetings before her father's expected speech.
Following the Grand Prince's arrival, servants begin to bring out a light supper, placing various expensive cheeses, fruits, pastries, and wines out on tables or carrying platters to offer momentary repast. The food placates the masses left confused by Stavian's abrupt arrival and sudden disappearance, and soon conversations return to normal. Socializing becomes easier, as interested parties jockey for positions in food lines to speak with important dignitaries.
Maya gives a grand bow to her audience when she completes her final performance in the courtyard. She's quite satisfied with her efforts. Hopefully Lady Martella will be as well.
The halfling can't help but shake her head at Katria and Kalbio's interactions. Poor Kalbio seems far too innocent to be made into a noble. Maya doubts the man knows what he's getting himself into. He might not have even had a choice in the matter.
Maya notes the Grand Prince's arrival and it's all she can do to avoid rolling her eyes. Perhaps there is something worse than nobility. Royalty.
With the gala's supper out, Maya finds her performances have given her quite the appetite. She takes samples of a few different varieties of cheese as well as a pair of exotic fruits. She gets a glass of wine to go along with it that's much too big for one of her size.
Finding a quiet spot, or at least one relatively quiet compared to the rest of the gala, Maya enjoys a few minutes to herself as she eats. There's no telling what the evening holds, but Maya's determined to be well-fed, come what may.
After eating, Maya decides it's time for her to at least say a few words to the only prominent halfling she's noticed, besides herself, of course. Maya strolls over to Wyssilka.
Once Wyssilka has a quiet moment from her own performances, Maya gives her a smile and a nod then says, "Hello there. I hope the noblemen's children haven't been giving you too much trouble. I'm Maya, by the way. It's good to meet a fellow halfling. As many of us as there are, it doesn't seem like many get much notice, if you know what I mean. Are you from Oppara? And, while I'm asking, any tips on how I might could be fantabulous, too?"
"Oh, the children are no trouble at all! I simply adore the little tykes!" Wyssilka says with a dazzling grin. "It's nice to meet you too, Maya. I am indeed from Oppara, born and raised on the gleaming golden streets of our glorious empire's capital city!"
The halfling giggles when Maya asks for tips. "Alas, there's only room in this city for one fantabulous halfling, and that would be yours truly. But I'd be happy to teach you how to be splendiforous! If you'd like, I can paint your face to get you started on your new career as a jester. I think you'd be perfect in the role!" She gives her fellow halfling a wink.
Katria is happy to spend time with Kalbio, pleased to have someone so attentive to her own lessons. She leads him to the most interesting rooms in the Senate -- particularly the imperial archives -- where she proceeds to breathlessly tell him as much of Taldor's history she can in the time they have. Unfortunately, for her, considering the level of detail she goes into on each item and nuance, the lesson remains very narrow in scope, not getting into the broad brush of the empire's long millennia.
She keeps a lookout for her own parents, but breathes a small sigh of relief when they don't seem to be here. She loves them, and knows they love her, but their lack of interest in her own goals and wishes has always been a source of friction between them. Having a night off from the passive-aggressive comments of her mother is as much a relief as having accomplished all their tasks here. Maybe more!
Doritan joins Maya as she talks to Wyssilka, "Well, it certainly was enjoyable earlier, dueling magic tricks, I must say. Are you enjoying the ball?"
Kalbio listens attentively to Katria's lessons, perhaps ninety percent of them going right over his head. Still, he's happy to have something to do besides standing around awkwardly.
Wyssilka smiles up at Doritan. "Quite! You might say I'm having a ball! Or two! Or three!" She starts to juggle, adding another ball each time she increases her count.
Maya can't help but smile at Wyssilka's display and general cheeriness. The bard just hopes it isn't a facade.
She nods at Doritan, glad to see another member of Martella's chosen fraternizing.
To Wyssilka, Maya says, "I think I'll pass on the face paint. I have to keep up appearances for the nobles this evening. I'll settle for learning to be splendiforous. I'm sure I could learn to juggle or perform like that easily enough."
"I'm sure you could! Performing is easy to learn--it's just difficult to master!" Wyssilka grins. "I'll do what I can to make you as splendiforous as possible."
The jester works with Maya on her routine, giving her some tips and tricks to entertain and delight her audience, especially the young members among it.
Bernal watches the Grand Prince's arrival with interest, something about the would-be-nobles' eagerness to simply see Stavian bringing a suppressed smile to his face. Later, he finds a group of people to dine with, preferably from the more talkative type of nobles in the crowd. If accepted, he introduces himself with bravado as Bernal Iacomo, Rondelero dancer and duelist in service of the Empire.
"Atmosphere in the upper circles must be tense", he comments after a while. "I've heard there's talk of voting to abolish Primogeniture tonight; with the law being such a major point of contention between the Grand Prince and his daughter, and both having their sizable share of supporters in Taldan society, we can expect a big show-off from the two tonight, don't you think?"
Elif climbed the stairs to the gallery on the second floor where the nobleborn children were entertained.
She watched from the sides, laughing at funny moments and observing how Maya and Doritan were interacting with Wyssilka. If a child became overly boisterous in their play and got hurt or hurt another, Elif gently moved forward, spoke to them quietly and soothingly, and, provided any first aid to ease their pain; drying their tears.
Elif endears herself to the children, and their parents in turn. They look favorably upon the considerate half-elf.
The guests Bernal speaks to nod in agreement. "Aye, 'tis sure to be a historic evening. One for the record books!"
"They'll be talking about tonight for years to come!"
The hundred-year-old bottle of wine donated by the Lotheed family is opened and served at this point. The senators sampling it react with disgust thanks to Doritan's sabotage! This is sure to be a stain on their reputation.
Finally, the Taldan senate convenes to vote on various issues while guests watch from the gallery above. The hall spends 30 minutes arguing and voting on formalities and spending bills before reaching the event all of Taldor has been waiting for.
The political ruling body of Taldor spreads out twenty feet below the observation deck of the gallery. Dozens of senators and their immediate aides scurry below. The cacophony of voices is almost deafening, and it seems like the ceaseless chatter will continue endlessly. Suddenly, the magically amplified voice of the senate speaker interrupts the noise.
"Thank you all. I would ask that our observers please be silent and seat themselves. We will now begin voting on addendum number twenty-two thousand eighty-seven: the repeal of the ancient law of primogeniture, the issuance of inheritance and aristocratic title solely through male heirs."
Following this proclamation, the speaker begins calling on individual senators one at a time to support or oppose the repeal. Early declarations split evenly between the options, with many senators abstaining entirely, and only halfway through the process do votes begin to favor Princess Eutropia's bid to end primogeniture. By the end of the tabulations, the repeal passes with roughly 60 percent of the senate's backing. The speaker takes a moment to compose himself, seemingly shocked by the results, before continuing to formally announce the initial results in a distant monotone.
"And so, the final tally for addendum twenty-two thousand eighty-seven, the repeal of primogeniture, with thirty-six abstentions, the final tally stands at one hundred and seven for, seventy-nine against. The addendum passes. Among other business tonight, the senate recognizes Princess Eutropia Stavian I as the new heir to the Primogen Crown, and the first heir the empire has seen in twenty years."
With the declaration made, the chamber explodes in a riot of applause and condemnation. It takes several minutes for the cacophony to die down. The speaker declares that a closed senate recount is to take place, an event signaled by the speaker declaring a temporary recess of the senate to outsiders.
Following the vote, Martella Lotheed summons you for one last meeting, just as ushers begin announcing Grand Prince Stavian's speech and exaltation to begin in thirty minutes.
"Well done, my friends. It seems we all can bask in the glow of a successful evening. You completed every task I set out for you with plenty of time to spare! As promised, you'll each receive 300 gold tomorrow, and I will definitely have further work for you in the future if you're so inclined."
"It is my pleasure, my lady. How likely do you think it is that the speech will go south? We've already had to intervene to keep Malphene from causing trouble, and that was preemptive. I can't imagine what any troublemakers would do now." Doritan asks, hoping he can just relax without any worries for the remainder of the evening.
"It's my guess that Stavian's speech will be a concession to Eutropia's bid for the throne. While the vote doesn't replace him, he has made no secret of his opposition to the repeal, and I expect the emperor to show no amount of restraint in lambasting his daughter. I doubt anybody would be foolish enough to try anything with the entirety of the Ulfen guard here. But as always, keep your eyes open, just in case."
Katria nods.
"Whatever else I can do to help, I will," she says earnestly. "Because this is just the first step, and it will likely get more difficult from here. After all, even after Taldaris united the Principalities in -1281 AR, it took some time before they came to see themselves as Taldor. Who knows what will happen after this..."
Maya's a bit surprised at how smoothly the vote goes, considering that Taldan nobles are involved. She's a bit concerned, though. If another vote is called for, the number of abstentions meant it could easily swing in the other direction. Why did some of the nobles bother being senators if they weren't going to vote? Despite living among them all her life, Maya still doesn't understand how many nobles think.
Still, they had accomplished what Lady Lotheed had asked of them. Maya can at least rest easy in that knowledge. Not to mention the reward of 300 gold, a sum larger than any she had ever come close to receiving up to this point in her life.
"Glad we could get it all done for you, Lady Lotheed. I hope you had a stress-free evening. I'm not particularly looking forward to Stavian's speech, but I suppose there's not too much to worry about at this point, now that the voting is finished. Is the closed senate recount normally a perfunctory affair?"
Martella nods. "Yes, it all should be sorted out in the next few minutes or so. We should all start making our way down to get our seats for the speech. Oh, there is one more thing, Katria."
She hands the occultist a sealed letter, neatly folded and sealed with wax embossed with a simple heart. "I noticed that Kalbio of Breezy Creek has taken a bit of a shine to you. Could you deliver this to him after the exaltation? His parents couldn't afford to travel into Oppara for the ceremony, but they sent him this letter. I understand that it's of a personal and emotional nature, so they asked me not to deliver it until after the big day."
"Oh, yes, of course," Katria agrees. "I'm sure he'll be happy to have it. It would have meant so much to him to have them here. I'm sure they'll be so sorry they missed it."
She takes the letter and presses it between the pages of a book in her belt pouch.
Bernal's initially worried expression slowly grows relaxed and delighted as the vote progresses, his lips parting in a rare, non-artificial toothy grin as the speaker announces the repeal of Primogeniture. The duelist joins the crowd in cheering for the vote's result, quickly going to find Martella and gauge her reaction.
"I can't say I was expecting the repeal to succeed, let alone have a substantial majority. It is my educated guess that most abstaining senators were in favour of eradicating Primogeniture, yet too scared of the Grand Prince--rightfully so. I do not eagerly await his speech, though it will be interesting to firsthand hear his reaction to the night's events."
Hundreds of dignitaries, senators, and visitors cram onto the senate floor. A dozen hulking members of the Ulfen Guard, personal bodyguards of the grand prince, stand arrayed around a podium atop the central, circular stage of the chamber. A mix of senatorial staffers and Ulfen Guard assign people to positions within the chamber based on rank and influence, placing the five of you toward the outer wall of the room, well over 80 feet away from the grand prince's podium. Martella Lotheed stands 20 feet closer, while Princess Eutropia and several prominent nobles stand at the podium's edge.
Grand Prince Stavian III ascends to the tall stage that overlooks the hall from its center. He raises a single hand to calm the murmurs of the assembled crowd. A member of the prince's Ulfen Guard escorts a thrilled-looking Kalbio to stand several paces behind the prince.
"Quite the assembly we have here today," the grand prince says. "I don't think I've ever seen the senate building packed so full; especially not for any of my previous speeches. Even my lovely daughter, now a woman, sits among the players of Oppara's greatest game. Of course, none of you are here for me. No, today is about something else entirely. Today is about elevation. It is no secret that today is about exalting others to a new status in life.
"I'm sure many of you have had the opportunity to meet Kalbio here. He is a man of the people, elevated at the urging of all the ladies, lords, senators, and aides present in this chamber. I think we should all give him a rousing applause, to commemorate this momentous change in his life."
The room erupts into cheers as Stavian pauses in his proclamation. The grand prince of Taldor smiles widely as he takes in the adulation of the crowd.
As the applause abates, a hulking Ulfen Guard pushes Kalbio forward, almost knocking the commoner down as he awkwardly regains his balance beside Grand Prince Stavian. The leader of Taldor maintains his calm, placing a hand on Kalbio's shoulder without ever taking his eyes off the crowd.
"I understand your parents sacrificed everything to help you reach this day, my boy. Saving up for your apprenticeship and the tools you needed to achieve greatness. And today you are a grateful son, no doubt making them proud. I too understand what it is to sacrifice; I have given so much for the people of this nation: a brother, a son, a lifetime of service. Even my own daughter's loyalty." He pauses, licking his lips and pulling the awkward Kalbio closer to his side. "But unlike you, Lord Kalbio, these Taldans—my children, truly—are not grateful. They scheme and plot, dream of hanging their dutiful father and placing a woman—a woman, sir!—on the Lion Throne! And they have seen fit this very day to induct you into their conspiratorial ranks. And that is why here, now, you, Lord Kalbio, will be the first among them to die."
And with that, the Emperor of Taldor plunges a jeweled dagger between the ribs of the astonished man in his clutches.
While Stavian's accusations stun the crowd, Kalbio's blood showers the front row of the senate floor. Kalbio mouths "Ma...ma...pa..." before he collapses to the stage in a heap. A red-stained Princess Eutropia defiantly stands among the nobility, starring up at her father in disbelief. Casting aside cloaks to reveal armor and blades, the unidentified soldiers in the chamber already begin moving to cut down the attending masses in a wholesale slaughter. A total of 50 armed soldiers surround the room--and one is a mere 30 feet away from you!
Cursing himself for not taking more precautions, Doritan calls out to his companions, "Go! I'll hold him off. I'll catch up to you soon," signaling for them to escape the bloodbath as he springs into action. Moving deftly, he charges forward, a dagger appearing in his hand and arching up at the agent's throat.
Maya can hardly believe her eyes. She had expected Kalbio... Lord Kalbio... to regret becoming a noble. But so quickly and in such a violent manner? The halfling shudders.
What is Stavian thinking? Why would he do this? How could he do this? Maya, much to her chagrin, seems to have been right. Royalty is worse than nobility.
There's too much to take in at one time. Right now, Maya has to focus on survival. With her fellow agents of Lady Martella nearby, Maya decides to wait before retrieving her peace-bound dagger.
Peace-bound, what poppycock.
The halfling shakes her head at Doritan, "I'm hardly going to let you fend for yourself, silly human. Besides, there are dozens of them and five of us, where are we going to flee to?"
She decides to put on a proper performance for the nearby soldier, one he is unlikely to soon forget.
"Hey bozo! Yeah, you with the audacity to slay people indiscriminately! I think you could be doing a lot better, you know? Put some more fervor into your swing and more spring into your step. You could do so much better."
Maya stays where she is, for the moment, deciding that rushing headlong toward the soldier unarmed is probably not the best plan.
"Kalbio! No!" Katria shouts, too stunned to react as quickly as her new companions.
In much the same way as his expression shifted during the vote, moreso in a parody of it, Bernal's expression slowly evolves from suspicion to horror as Stavian speaks. The sight of a noble, Grand Prince of Taldor no less, stabbing an innocent to death before a crowd of would-be slaughtered senators shakes Bernal, but he fiercely fights to maintain his calm. With a blank expression he draws his falcata and undoes the tie on the cord peace-binding it. Peace-bind, my arse. There's no peace in making your victim helpless.
"Be safe, Doritan. I'll go with the rest and make sure no one's bothering us; it takes just two to Rondelero."
Doritan rushes to attack the dark-cloaked soldier. He slashes with his dagger, but it grates against the man's steel breastplate.
As Maya begins her mockery, Bernal unties the peace-bond on his falcata.
Stavian's agent swings his bastard sword in a brutal chop, cutting down a panicked servant next to Doritan. Blood sprays on the man's armor and spatters Doritan's clothes as the grizzled soldier turns his attention to the vigilante.
After a moment's confusion from most of the Ulfen Guard, the viking warriors attempt to close ranks around their emperor, cutting down anyone—black-clad warrior and panicked senator alike—who approaches. Masked soldiers guard the doors and make wide-arc slashes with their swords to keep the crowds at bay. Within mere seconds, the senate floor becomes a killing field, as Stavian III looks around in deranged wonder at the butchery he has ordered.
As the conflict escalates, other members of the crowd pull hidden weapons from their clothing and engage the Stavian agents. You recognize Kathann Zalar, the helpful guard who inspected you upon entry to the gala, as she leaps into combat, shouting, "Lion Blades! To your duties! Defend the senate! Defend Taldor!" Even Martella Lotheed and Princess Eutropia draw their weapons to fight back against the assassins!
"Trying to escape the hall will simply seal our fates. Lady Martella's allies, to our mistress!"
Bernal swings his falcata with a flourish in Lady Martella's direction, hoping his companions understand the message. He remains behind, ready to fend off any attack on his allies.
It occurs to Maya that she must be unconsciously filtering out some parts of what's taking place. It seems impossible that she would be capable of processing everything that's happening. The blood spraying onto Doritan is a terrible reminder to her that a wholesale slaughter is occurring on the senate floor.
This is the sort of conflict a bard is supposed to sing songs or tell stories about to eager listeners. A bard's not supposed to be a part of the actual conflict, is she?
As Maya's brain works to process everything taking place, she turns back to the immediate matter at hand: the man threatening Doritan. If Stavian's agent could cut down a servant with a single swing, how much longer could Doritan hope to last?
Gritting her teeth, Maya looks down at her peace-bound dagger. She curses silently to herself. She doesn't have much chance of hitting the man if Doritan couldn't even hit him and she hadn't even bothered to try smuggling in her sling. Maya decides to try out a bit of the magic she's been practicing.
,