"Oh, how lovely, the Iron Scepter is a yurt in comparison, darling, a yurt!"
Ursus cocks an eyebrow at the amethyst-skinned woman’s puzzling choice of words but picks up on their intent. ”After you finish with Zelda, I’ll see about getting each of you apartments.”
”I’ll make sure yours is close to mine”, he adds with a lecherous smirk spread across his bearded features.
"How thoughtful," Yolanda purrs.
Kalam whistles appreciatively at the scale of the amphitheater, "A man could certainly get used to the grandness of it all. Am I to take your comment to mean that we proud few have proven ourselves sufficiently capable to rate as silver-level agents among the Aspis? In that case I must commend either you or this Zelda on an excellent eye for talent."
However unlikely, Kalam combs his brain for any rumors concerning this Zelda figure.
"That's my guess. If she wanted you dead, she would have had me kill you upstairs”, the huge man says as a matter-of-fact.
Kalam merely shugs and offers the big man a smirk, "I'd say that's a fair assumption. Very well, usher us to our awaiting accolades."
Pulling the flask from his belt, he takes a long drink before offering it to the others, Ursus included.
Daeron stays quiet, but tries to remember if he's heard of Zelda.
Ursus accepts the gesture, takes a draw from the flask, and returns it when a grunt of thanks. When the group is ready to move on, he takes them north down a short hall and to a heavy door of blackened metal. "She's just inside."
The big man takes up a position to guard the door but doesn't enter.
Beyond the ponderous doorway is a lavishly furnished office, the likes of which impress even Yolanda's exquisite tastes. Though there's little in the way of gilding or gem inlays, the furniture is all made of heavy exotic woods, carved expertly, and lacquered to a mirror shine. Plush furs carpet the floor, warding off the coldness of otherwise naked stone, and mirrors of all shapes and sizes decorate the walls, some glass while others are polished steel.
Behind a dark desk, the front of which is carved to represent the likeness of entwined lovers, sits an older varisian woman with a prominent nose dressed in plain traveler's clothes, utterly out of place among the wealthy furnishings of the office.
"Come in. Take a seat", the woman says casually.
The Lady Yll gracefully sits on one of the offered chairs her silken gown clinging to her form like water. Today she had gone with something high necked and creamy, but it did little to conceal her charms. Her lipid, golden eyes taken in the luxury and the woman who owns it.
A meritocracy, I see. Not as good as an aristocracy, but we aristoi are used to demonstrating our excellence even among the masses. And as they say, cream does rise to the top. No doubt she will prove far more competent than some I have had to deal with recently.
Kalam takes in the room slowly his eyes taking in every detail before coming to rest on it's owner. He gives her his best grin, "Utterly gorgeous in a practical sort of way, with just a hint of the austere. So too is your office quite lovely in its own right, I commend you on your taste."
Laying his long burgundy coat over the back, Kalam takes his place in one of the chairs, leaning back casually, his legs crossed, "Thank you for the invitation my lady. Shall we get down to business?"
A thin joyless smile crosses the woman's face at the party's interest. "Good. I knew each of you had potential, skilled, ambitious, loyal, all things we look for our in our members. Tell me kids, what is that you want our of this organization? What do you want out of life?"
While she awaits the party's answers, the older woman opens a drawer and retrieves a fine cigar. After removing the tip with a sharp dagger, she sets it ablaze with her fingertip and takes a puff. The sweet smoke quickly fills the office.
Kalam shrugs, "What does anyone want out of life? Comfort, power, the chance to be recognized for your talents...but only by the people that matter. Simple goals but surprisingly difficult to achieve in the normal world. Your organization offers the chance for all of these things."
He takes a sip from his flask, savoring it for a moment before continuing, "If you don't mind me asking a question of my own? What is it you want out of your agents? At least those of us at our level? Simple obedience? Ingenuity and free thinking so long as results are achieved?"
The Lady Yll responds to the two questions succinctly. "Phenomenal, ever-flowing wealth. Everything."
Kalam, the sweet gosling, dearly loves the sound of his own voice, but he does make an excellent stalking horse with all his chatter.
"Fame, power, notoriety—what does anyone want? A desire to be more than you are is common among most, I imagine. I desire to improve my standing—in wealth, in status, in ability—every day. What more is there?"
Zelda smirks, apparently satisfied with the party's answers. She rests her cigar against the edge of an obsidian ashtray and folds her spindly wrinkled hands together. "Good. Those are motivations I can work with. Money, power, prestige - these are things the Aspis deals in. Things like philosophy get in the way of good business."
The old woman pauses and studies Kalam. Despite her frail unassuming form, the expression is not unlike a tiger finding amusement in a squirming morsel. "I've already said what the Aspis wants from you but I want a bit more. I want agents that are hungry for success - agents that will do whatever it takes to get a job done."
Reaching into a drawer again she produces five pins a bit more than an inch across with an image of a snake twisted around a dagger on the front and a hollow indentation on the rear. "These badges mark you as silver ranked agents, potentially the beginning of a long lucrative career. But know this, by accepting this token, you're agreeing to put your previous life second to the needs of the Aspis. Friends, family, faith, none of that shit comes before us. Do you understand?"
"The greatest tenet of my goddess is living well. I doubt you will have us swearing off the finer things to live lives of sobriety, chastity, and poverty. Therefore, there can be no possible conflict of interest."
"I have dreamed of finding a way to leave my old life behind—I wish only that it could have come more quickly. I accept."
The doctor had quietly been following the others as his eyes tried to take in every detail of the complex. Alarm bells were ringing in his head with every step that took them further into the lion's den. Calm down, you're here because you've earned it, not because they want you dead. Years of living with his paranoia had granted the doctor some sort of awareness of it and he tried his best to alleviate the implications of his disorder. Fingers fidgeted as if juggling a scalpel that wasn't there and the moment one of the others caught him doing that, he moved his hand into a deep pocket where it continued the air juggling. Lost in thoughts and his imaginary practice, the lackluster awareness of the man only caught up when his ears registered the words 'what do you want out of life?'.
The dull eyes of the man came to life. The faculty of his mind started processing his surroundings, the words people were throwing back and forth and what he could get out of this situation in a rapid pace. "I understand, madame. All I wanted is an opportunity to present my skills and talents. This I received and now I find myself here in your company, ready for my next task." If she wanted more words, she'd have asked for them. The room itself told him that - comfort and luxury were presented in calculated and pragmatic taste. All that wasn't needed simply wasn't present. The fact he was here, meant he was wanted. For now. The fact she spoke only the words she felt necessary, meant she wanted the same from those under her. This he noted in his mind. Besides, Abramov never had a talent for words, unlike some of his companions.
And what was it that he wanted? The wealth and resources to get his alchemical projects on the road. The secretions of snakes, magical beasts, vile outsiders and exotic plants from the Mwangi Expanse could soon be within his grasp!
Kalam meets Zelda's gaze with a wry smile, "I had vowed to put my past well behind me before I ever stepped foot in the Bronze House, my lady."
Zelda nods. ”Then congratulations. You’re all silver agents”, she says as she gestures for everyone to take a pin.
”They're more than costume jewelry, they also carry some minor enchantments. First they’ll sense if there’s any poison in food you’re about to eat or drink - you’d be surprised how often that comes in handy. Second, wearing it improves your intuition allowing you to better pick up on hand signs and innuendo if the situation calls for it. Lastly, that hole in the back will hold an ioun stone – a kind of magic rock – perfectly, out of sight and out of mind.”
”Continue to impress me and some of you could be gold agents soon enough.”
Kalam takes a pin from the table and affixes it to his shirt near his armpit where it will be well hidden once he puts his jacket back on.
He gives a nod to Zelda, "Very handy things to have it would seem. As to becoming gold agents, I imagine you had best let us know what task you require of us next? Provided of course that we five will continue to work together?"
Zelda smirks, visibly admiring Kalam’s shameless ambition. ”There’s a list of goals that have to be accomplished but generally another gold agent will let me know when you’re ready for a promotion.”
"Thank you.", the doctor says as he grabs his pin. Already his mind was trying to figure out why this woman would give them magical trinkets. Certainly there could only be one reason: it tied them to the organisation, indebted them to her and it gave her a way of keeping an eye on them. Okay, perhaps there was more than one reason, but he was sure that this conniving crone isn't running a charity organisation. The chain of command and its accompanying pyramid structure is often touted as a brilliant schematic for an organisation, but Abramov knew that in this organisation everyone under you in the pyramid was replacable.
"Are we done then?"
”For now”, Zelda answers as she picks up her cigar again. ”Ursus can give you a tour and arrange for your lodging here if you need a roof over your head.”
Toying with the pin, Yolanda opines, Silver, how fetching, I'm sure it will go with so many different outfits."
Kalam gestures to the hewn stone overhead as he pulls his jacket back on, "Roof being a rather loose description. Still it would be preferable to have a place to call my own down here. I imagine the call of life above may see me a rare occupant of it however."
He pulls his flask out and raises it in Zelda's direction, "To your health and beauty."
He takes a mouthful before replacing the flask and retreating towards the door, "Now to see about our tour..."
After everyone’s grabbed one of the pins, Zelda nods and gestures for the party to take their leave. Exiting back into the grand amphitheater, away from Zelda’s heady cigar smoke, the party finds Ursus waiting for them.
”Congrats. Now follow me, it’s time to give you the tour…”
Over the course of an hour, the huge ulfen man leads the party down the Crossroad’s cold stone halls showing them the various facilities available to silver ranked agents.
*A well-stocked library with a healthy mix of fiction, non-fiction, and academia. The library also features a clearly illicit rack of city records.
*A large spacious training yard complete with a row of mechanical wooden training dummies and a deeply bedded sand pit. A number of other silver agents can be found here in pairs practicing combat skills while several receive instruction from an older chelxian man with a gold pin similar to the ones the party received pinned to his collar.
*An armory where mundane armor and weapons of all shapes and sizes can be found.
*An apothecary with shelves covered in potions and exotic magical components. Tiny winged outsiders flit about the air here, organizing the contents of the shelves and helping agents find things.
*A mess hall with surprisingly well presented and rich luxurious food. Agents are found here enjoying quiet meals by candlelight.
The tour takes the group past a set of elaborate doors similar to the one leading to Zelda’s office that Ursus explains leads to the level dedicated to gold agents. The tour ends at a hall of apartment doors, built tightly together. The big man retrieves a handful of iron keys from his furs and offers one to each member of the party. He points out the associated doors. ”The rest of the day is yours to look around”, he grunts.
Ursus holds the last key, Yolanda’s, up between his sausage-sized digits and gestures to the amethyst-skinned beauty and her porter. ”Come with me. Yours is a couple halls away.”
The Lady Yll places a hand on the massive man's arm. "Thank you. I'm sure you have much to show me."
Social as always, he takes the key to his room and departs without saying a thing. Too much time has been spent with people around him and the doctor is craving some solitude.
Abramov will spend the evening getting acquainted with the library and his new room, using the opportunity to catch up on his research and see if he can make some progress. Surely there must be something on poison out there in the library..
After the tour, Daeron bids good night to Kalam and strides after the doctor.
"I hope you don't mind a bit of company." Seeing the look on Abramov's face at the prospect of conversation, Daeron continues. "I'll keep quiet, just heading to the library as well."
Daeron heads right to the city records and begins examining them.
Kalam takes his key with a nod, "Until tomorrow then Ursus."
He winks at Yolanda, "Do promise you'll bring our friend back in one piece Lady Yil, we'll have need of him in the morning."
He notices Halsanna favoring her shoulder as she takes her own key and frowns, "Right, that's quite enough of that my dear. Cayden will have you good as new in no time, he never could refuse a pretty face..."
Wetting his fingers from his flask, Kalam places his hand Halsanna's slung arm and says a few unusual words.
After nodding to the others, Kalam takes his leave. Depositing his coat in his room as he gives it a quick appraising look.
He then heads out, enjoying a leisurely meal at the mess hall, complete with liberal use of his new pin.
His meal finished, Kalam watches some of the other agents practice in the training yard before eventually making his way to the library after a few hours.
As he makes his way to the rack of city records, Kalam spots Daeron studiously pouring over one of the collections, "Somehow I figured I'd find you here. I at least had the good grace to take in the sights first, lest I appear overeager."
He thumbs through the collections before finding one that catches his eye, taking it out he sits down near to his elven companion and begins his own quiet study of it's contents.
The private space afforded in the rooms is small but comfortable and utilitarian. Each room features a sturdy feather bed resting against one wall with an ironbound chest at its feet, a small hearth to keep the cold away, woven rugs covering the floor to shield occupants from the hard stone floor, a small basin full of fresh clean water, and a desk for study.
The most interesting (and likely most expensive feature) of the rooms is a line of magical glyphs etched around the doorframe.
***
Following Ursus further, Yolanda is lead a few hallways past her comrades. As the pair progress, the space becomes a bit roomier and the lighting becomes a little brighter. Suddenly stopping, Ursus inserts Yolanda’s key into a door’s lock and pushes it open, showing her the interior. ”This one’s yours”, the huge man explains. He points down the hall a few doors away. ”That one’s mine.”
Ursus leans in as he hands over the room’s key, close enough for Lady Yll to feel the heat coming off of his bare flesh. ”You seem like a woman that know’s what she wants. I like that”, he says in a soft growl. ”I’ll be around.”
After handing off the key, the bare-chested brute turns and leaves, passing the door to his room and headed back toward the central Crossroads.
Kalam yawns over the pages in front of him, taking a sip from his flask he gives his head a shake and continues reading.
Unlike Kalam, Daeron is bent over the documents, reading furiously. He had always been most fascinated by people and the actions they chose to take—and also being able to use those actions against them.
Yolanda runs the tip of her nail down his bare chest. "I know exactly what I want, and I'm insatiable when it comes to acquisition." With her other hand she hooks the buckle of the big man's breeches and draws him gently into her new room. "Morris, darling, man the door. I don't want to be disturbed."
Kalam and Daeron enjoy a quiet afternoon getting used to their new surroundings and reading in the library. The city records they peruse have little of interest, but while among other agents they do pick up on some rumors about what the gold agents look for when recommending silvers for promotion. It seems the Aspis have an appreciation for the various monuments scattered across Magnimar and expect a certain working knowledge about them. It seems that relevant local trivia is something worth investing time in studying.
Halsanna has a very lucky afternoon and walks away [dice=2d10] gold richer. She overhears some off duty guardsmen chatting about the mangled remains of a man showing up on the docks. It hasn’t been confirmed but he’s believed to be the manager of a fairly prominent brothel.
Ursus isn’t wholly surprised by Yolanda’s aggressive tactics and scoops her up with one paw while Morris closes the door behind the pair.
Kalam takes note of the local gossip and eventually sets down the city records.
He looks at Daeron and Abramov if he's nearby, "Well I'm famished, join me for some supper? The food here is rather impressive."
Alone or with the others, Kalam makes his way to the mess hall for a large supper. As he eats Kalam chats with his companions and any other agents that happen to be about. He probes them gently here and there for any interesting rumors that may be floating around.
Such a well-equiped and well-stocked library is a thing Abramov ain't used to. In fact, it is quite overwhelming at first but the moment the doctor starts roaming about to find where everything is located, it all seems to fall into place.
So, she does it really well, but needs a sandwich and a nap?
Kalam learns that while most gold agents are too busy or involved in deep cover operations to hang around the Crossroads, two can be found fairly easily. The first was the older chelaxian man seen handling combat training in the training yard - Gerard Villanova. He's a known diabolist and believed to have contacts with House Thrune. The other is Ursus, talent scout and one of Zelda's favorite enforcers. He's the also the only gold agent to have quarters on the main floor.
Abramov doesn't learn anything that stands out as especially useful.
***
Yolanda wakes an untold time later. She's exhausted and sore but deeply satisfied in a way that a true hedonist could appreciate. There's also something else that feels different inside her but it's hard to put a finger on in her diminished state. She spots Ursus, minimally dressed in his furs again, making an exit. The massive ulfen makes eye contact, smirks, and lets himself out.
Morris dutifully closes the door behind him so that his mistress can get the rest she needs.
A wee bit of frustration lingers in the back of his mind as Abramov strolls back to his quarters. You'd think they have some books on the creation of poison! The plants, secretions and other ingredients that a poisoner uses can't be a secret to this society. Alas, he'd find some good sources sooner or later and if not, he'll figure it out himself.
Kalam finished his meal in leisurely fashion, chatting with the other silver agents and having a few drinks.
Eventually he takes his leave, making his way leisurely back to the library. Based on the information he had gathered from some of the other agents, Kalam ignores the city records this time. Instead he looks for information that will help acquaint him with Magnimar's most prominent monument, the Irespan.