Gameplay thread! Post coming soon.
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Times have been hard in Magna Gracia for a long time now. When the Great Howl cursed Tarn to a lycanthropic madness, many people lost their minds and became Ferals, terrifying lycanthropes driven by a homicidal bloodlust that never seem to die of old age.
Even your ancestors that survived the Howl developed banes, like severe allergies to certain conditions. Well-meaning people exposed each other to Banes without realizing it for decades before the full list of Twelve Banes was compiled by Horatio Algers, a werewolf aide to the Governor of Magna Gracia, Governor Teatree, now both retired.
Cities that were formerly a part of wide, sprawling empires dwindled in influence and unity until no true "countries" remain, only city-state islands in a sea of Feral madness. Farmland and hunting territory around the city-states is closely guarded and often walled off by the city-states they feed.
The identity of Magna Gracia slowly shifted over the century of near-isolation to become an independent city-state, now even with some semblance of pride....
So it ruffled a lot of feathers and raised a lot of eyebrows when an honor guard of 150 soldiers protecting a lavish carriage arrived, claiming to be represent the Crown of Magna Ultimus, Sovereign King of the Lands and urging the people of Magna Gracia to rejoin them.
All of you are friends or acquaintances to the current Governor's Aide, a were-rat by the name of Tremblay, who has requested your presence in a most unusual way. A hand-scrawled note written in hasty letters was pressed into your hand by a street urchin without a word, begging you to meet him at 2 AM at the Lighthouse near Pier 37, at the Waterfront.
Of course I can't resist an urgent call from Tremblay. My good friend has called in my "services" many times in the past. Though, never with such secrecy that required intermediaries...
Her curiosity piqued, Mazatl made her way to the docks, closing up 'shop' early. It was strange that the woman worked as a florist, but no one could argue with any conviction, that her occupation wasn't well chosen.
As a matter of fact, that was how she'd met the mayor's aide in the first place. The Howl hadn't offset the idea of courtship... for most, anyway.
She left behind a bouquet, just in case one was needed, then headed straight to the lighthouse to wait. She hadn't anything better to do, really.
After the usual performing at the bar, Svog walks toward sthe lighthouse intrigued by the Governor's note. What could he want at this hour? Svog recently sang a new song to him so it couldn't be that he wanted a performance at midnight...
Svog got lost on his thoughts trying to come up with a new story for tomorrows play, maybe one of the adventures of Xha the Barbarian.
He kept walking while singing and improvising a new rythm.
The lunar cycle is a two-week one, in this world, changing rapidly night by night. Tonight, the moon is half-full, a half-disc hanging in the night sky. The lights from the nearby Waterfront obscure all but the brightest of stars, yet it is dark beneath the Lighthouse. It hasn't been used regularly in years.
Kazuya, you are the first to arrive at the Lighthouse; even as you look up at the tall building before you, lonely on this peninsula of rock surrounded by the sea, you look behind you to catch a faint silhouette with antlers in the pale moonlight.
Behind the figure a ways, another figure is seen walking with a casual gait. You recognize both these people, though you weren't aware that they would be joining you and Tremblay tonight. What do you all do?
"Oh..Hello..I'm glad I'm not the only one here..is kind of dark, you know?." Svog waves and puts away his notes about the new song he was making,
"Are you here on behalf of the Governor?" He asks the others.
Mazatl would slow her pace for the bard to catch up. She had time before the meeting.
"Actually, yes. I know not why, however. I would suppose it has to do with the change of the status quo... but I wouldn't assume it to be true."
She gave him a wide smile. "You know, I've still not had a chance to catch one of your plays... my little business grows more busy every time you put on a show... So I can't really afford to leave. How was it received?"
Kazuya stood aloof near the base of the lighthouse, eyeing the other two.
"Yes. Well, a friend that works for the governor, at least," he responded to the elven performer.
He recognized both from around this part of town. Not that they had had much interaction to this point.
Kazuya turned to the antlered human. "I have been by your store lately. The smells are pleasant."
He shuffled a little. Light conversation often made Kazuya uncomfortable.
"Thank you." She bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. "I'm afraid what I know of you is limited to hearsay, and one can't precisely regard that as rote. What is it that you do for the Aide? Perhaps that will shed some light on things. The message didn't have much to say, and I've no reason to believe it was even from him." and yet, here she was.
Good to see you all. I can not wait to see what is important enough to interrupt my work
I image that Feustus watches over the graveyard so that it is not disturbed.
Kazuya's eyes widened.
"You make an excellent point."
Kazuya looked up at the approach of the gravekeeper. To the florist, he added "I am a friend of Tremblay's. We have... history."
"Well, sometimes they like it, sometimes they don't...too much action or too much romance, there is always one complaining. BUT! It was fun and people liked it." Svog answers with a wide smile as he remembers the clapping.
"At least we are familiar faces and not some trying to empty our pockets..." He felt relaxed to have company here, it would be unpleasant to be ambushed on his own.
Don't be paranoid, the Governor will come, we will chat and everyone will get back to their houses.
"And then there were four... just how many people did he send for? This -must- be important... and with Feustus here, it's looking less like he's throwing a party and more like a funeral."
She looked up and down the docks, before leaning against the railing. "My pockets are always empty." she notes in response to Svog's comment.
"It is better to have empty pockets than an empty heart."
Despite his reluctance, Kazuya started to relax a little. He felt that a proper introduction would be best. "I am Kazuya. Feustus I am familiar with, but the rest of you I only know by looks."
The rest of the people that Tremblay contacted arrive one by one within the next few moments. Ryuko gazes at each of the proffered notes in turn, recognizing Tremblay's distinctive handwriting without a doubt. The sharp-eyed monk also recognizes before anyone else when a large black bird wings its way toward you, barely visible against the starless sky.
When the bird lands suddenly, it does so with near perfect silence, startling everyone present except Ryuko, though not all show it. The bird drops off a small wet rat and then, swiftly and with the quiet sound of bones popping and rearranging themselves, transforms into a tall man wearing modest but expensive-looking clothing. The wet rat similarly transforms, revealing a bedraggled and disgruntled-looking Tremblay. He transforms in the middle of Kazuya's sentence.
"Sorry to interrupt, but proper introductions will have to wait," he comments in his usual nasal tone, looking to each of you in turn. "I wasn't sure if anyone would respond to my agents' summons. I'm glad to see I still have some contacts within this city."
So, why did you summon us?
The Governor's Aide strides up the stairs to the Lighthouse, producing a key and unlocking the door. He swings it wide, and beckons his manservant in before holding the door for everyone else. He doesn't respond immediately to Feustus' question, rushing everyone inside impatiently.
Once inside the Lighthouse, you can see the were-hawk manservant climbing the stairs to the Lighthouse's top. When climbing the Lighthouse you can see that nobody has used this building in quite some time - it's an older structure, a relic that almost nobody uses anymore. It's a 5 minute climb to the top, leaving Tremblay huffing a little bit. The manservant remains silent. Those climbing behind him can see that he is armed with a long knife.
Kazuya nodded to himself. This was the Tremblay that he knew. The martial artist followed the manservant, hoping that light would soon be shed on this situation.
At 2am precisely as the watch is calling the hour Chaney arrives in a hackney coach.
Wordlessly he eyes the group and then follows them into the old structure.
The moon, even half-obscured, provides enough light through the gaps in the stone masonry to see faintly by. Unless you bore a torch on your way over here, your eyes would have already adjusted to the faint light. Additionally, being a lycanthrope slightly enhances your senses according to the specialities of your animal form, even when you're in human form, simply because you learn to pay closer attention to them. You're in little danger of stumbling.
Mazatl followed obligingly after, bringing up the rear. "That was an awfully long climb for the sake of not telling us why, yet." Mazatl's curiosity, if anything, was more piqued... especially since he'd gone to the trouble of dragging them up the relic's stairs to find out what was going on. She presumed it was for secrecy's sake... but with all the different animals that people could become it'd be a wonder if there was any such thing as secrecy.
Aifric has remained silent, and no one has spoken to him yet. He eyes the group, trying to maneuver himself covertly away from Feustus and closer to Svog Kos. Distaste shows on his face when he glances at Chaney's limb.
Kazuya took note of the other warrior that had entered the lighthouse. He recognized him, but he didn't know quite from where.
"So, Tremblay, what is the business you have gathered us for?"
Mazatl, meanwhile, looked over to see what the guard was doing. She didn't like people who stayed silent. That meant she was also watching the monkey, though...
Tremblay opens the heavy wooden door at the top of the Lighthouse and holds it wide for all of you. You stand in the lantern room, though the mighty flames that once guided ships to these harbors have been long dormant.
There is a viewing balcony that the Governor's Aide guides you to, wordlessly. He waits for all of you to assemble before he clears his throat and begins.
"Thank you all for coming...I fully appreciate the unusual nature of tonight's meeting. I'm thankful that the moon is right for all of us. I'll cut right to the chase. The Governor has been entertaining the envoys of this King everybody's talking about, Ultimus. His ships are in the harbor, escorting a massive carriage drawn by elephants. Everybody in the city is quite taken with this King and the gifts his retinue bear." The were-rat's mouth wrinkles as if he's sucked on an old lemon.
"I don't trust them, and I want you to find me proof. Guisarme, the telescope."
The were-rat's manservant nods solemnly and produces a finely-made telescope, setting it up and aiming it down at the harbor. He stands aside, and gestures for anyone to take a look.
"Why exactly is it that you don't trust him? What is it within his or his people's nature that puts you on edge?" She moved over towards the telescope, but let anyone else in a rush to look get the first peek if they so chose. As she knelt down, she was reminded of precisely why she didn't mind her antlers at all, as her hair came no where near falling into her face... she would try to adjust the aiming as needed to get a more clear and distinct view.
"Moreover, what is it that you want us to find proof of, Tremblay? Murder? Extortion? Slave taking?" Kazuya smirks a little at his old friend. "You never were good with concrete examples."
Despite my hatred of heights, I would like to get an idea as to what we'd be pitted against.
What is it that I see?
Nominally still under the rule of the distant King to the south, Magna Gracia is actually under the thumb of a tight-knit group of crime lord cartels whose ruthlessness helped them to survive the Curse 100 years ago.
"You brought us up here for this? No one with a functioning brain trusts this king from nowhere. Why he isn't floating face down in the harbor is beyond me. Our masters must be enjoying the novelty."
Chaney will take a turn at the glass.
"Oh, interesting...let me take a look" Svog takes a peek.
Feustus patiently waits his turn then takes a look.
I said nominally, and it's definitely in name only. Officially, the city of Magna Gracia still owes its allegiance to the capital of the Kingdom of Magna, but the capital of Magna, Magna Centrus, fell to Ferals and madness when the Howl struck. There hasn't been a King since Magnus Pontius sprouted tiger fangs and devoured his entire family under a full moon, leaving no heir.
The Governor (current Governor's name is Orwell, but you know very little about him) is a legacy position, an office created by the King in bygone times, a position that began as little more than local master of tax collectors. When Magna Centrus fell, the Governor was obligated to assume the mantle of full leadership of the beleaguered city - no easy task.
Luckily, the Governor is "assisted" greatly by the "merchant" cartels and descendants of other "wealthy influentials" who survived the Howling. (These are the crime cartels, in pretty clothes). Chaney, you know the names of the most powerful families, Magna Gracia's social elite - the Blusterbergs, the Trafalgars, the Errentand clan and the Caparands.
"I have my sources," Tremblay comments, glancing at Guisarme meaningfully. Guisarme stares into the lantern room, watching for intruders.
"Regardless, it is as Chaney mentioned - this man is claiming to be the descendant of a bastard of Pontius, and thus that we owe him fealty. We know the mages aboard his ships to be formidable, and his troops bear armor in the likeness of Magna Centrus' troops of old. But I remain suspicious. I believe he is shipping Banes, en masse, crated up in that furthest ship out in the harbor." One by one, you all look through the glass. The ship is dark, lit only by a few lanterns hung from the rigging in various places, but casts a grand silhouette.
"Banes, you say? That is certainly an interesting tactic... Well, Tremblay, as always you can count on my arm in this matter."
When you each begin to look through the glass, Tremblay walks over. Reaching up, he flips down a lens to cover the end of the lens when you look through. "This magical lens allows you to spot silver even through the wooden hull of a ship," he adds. "They're definitely armed with undeclared silver weaponry."
Magna Gracia is a city of about 40,000, with mandatory military training for all citizens between the ages of 18-20 creating a military cadre almost two thousand strong, when all militia are summoned. 150 troops is impressive, but certainly nowhere near what it would need to conquer the city.
We definitely can not have that. We shall do what we can to help you.
Feusts assumes his bird form and takes a perch on the rail.
"Mmmm that seems like bad news. Does he want chaos in the city or what?" Svog looks troubled at the idea of people wearing silver in the city.
"Understand..." Tremblay comments, "You will be acting independently of any government support or acknowledgment. Orwell is taking the safe middle path for now until the strength and character of this Ultimus can be determined, and whether he is telling the truth or lying about Magna Centrus being retaken by non-Ferals. He hasn't wholeheartedly accepted Ultimus as King, but he hasn't rejected him either. If you're caught, you could ruin the plans of the Court, and you will be disavowed."
Tremblay gestures, and Guisarme produces a slip of paper, holding it out to the nearest of you. "I always make sure my friends are rewarded. This bank voucher is worth 15 gold pieces to each of you now, and I will provide 15 more each upon successful recovery of evidence."
He glances at the elven bard. "We don't yet know his purpose, but beware. Silver weapons are especially deadly to all our kind, whether silver is your Bane or no. That's why they must be licensed, and declared. Ultimus' retinue was told this."
"Well, that's useful to know. I was going to say that I wouldn't mind bringing back the silver since it's not my bane." she grins, "But the fact that it's deadly makes a particular difference in my willingness to handle it. How should we contact you, and what would constitute as evidence? As it stands, just bringing back the bane lines either us, or you up for being shown as the guilty party, rather than Ultimus... effectively knocking out the resistance in one fell swoop... no? And are you unconcerned about the paper trail that handing us vouchers would leave?"
She'd been paying careful and methodical attention to what he was saying as he spoke.
"Revealing the presence of Banes on Ultimus' ships will do much to damage his reputation and good favor that he has been enjoying since he arrived," Tremblay comments, a trace of bitterness entering his voice.
"Then I can convince the Governor that Ultimus is truly up to no good, rather than just offering suspicions and hearsay. As for the vouchers, it's a risk I'm willing to take. Gold coins are so...cumbersome."
"All weapons are deadly, that is why they are weapons.." Chaney mutters under his breath as he continues to look through the scope. For a moment the moonlight flickers.
Losing the spell. So anything Magic on the ship?
Mazatl laughed lightly at the cumbersome comment. It seemed that if she were nervous about all of this, she wasn't going to show it. It was worrisome, what they were doing, but... it wasn't like she had any better way to spend her life.
Well... there's always the option of becoming a monk... she thought as she looked in Kazuya's direction for a moment.
"But how do we prove that the objects came from his ship? Is there some sort of mark that belongs to Ultimus that objects may be branded with? Something of that effect?"
"I'm certain there would be. The 'regent' brags about his connections regularly."
Kazuya took stock of his fellow conspirators. This was going to be a wild night. The monk smiled widely, a cold gesture.
"Keep your money. When would you need this done, Tremblay?"
The wizard pockets the bank draft.
"If the weapons are there I expect the most expeditious route would be to send the ship to the bottom. We will know, and he will know we know but everyone will be polite until the rest of his army arrives. Assuming he has one."
"The accusation alone would be damaging to his reputation. Provide me with the evidence I require, Mazatl. I can do the rest." Tremblay nods, his face serious.