In 4606 ar, Aroden, god of humanity, innovation, and history, died.
No city in all of Golarion was wracked more fundamentally by this catastrophic event than Westcrown. The capital of Cheliax—an entire country sworn to the god of humanity’s worship at the time—Westcrown was the expected site of Aroden’s return and had spent decades preparing for the event. A massive plaza known as the Arodennama, complete with a towering statue of the god, stood ready to receive the deity, yet after his death, it took only a few short years for the church of Aroden to fall. The Arodennama was abandoned, and the entire country found itself in the grips of a civil war with fierce diabolists.
The rise of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune saw Westcrown’s further descent. After a brutal 30-year civil war, the diabolical House of Thrune seized control of Cheliax. One of their first acts as the nation’s new government was to move the capital and royal court north to the city of Egorian, emptying Westcrown of much of its affluence and prestige. Those nobles who remained behind were largely old families rooted in their traditions and their pride, content to rot in their declining home. While still a vibrant and important port, the splendor that had typified Westcrown for centuries swiftly waned, and without the noble court many commoners and merchants who had previously made a living pandering to the country’s elite were forced to move on, leaving whole blocks abandoned. Westcrown faded to a pale shadow of its former glory and became a playground for vultures eager to pick the royal carcass.
During this walk, as you looked around you with your mind still focused on how the city was before the Thrunes rose to power, you almost ignored everything else, thus not noticing that someone was following you closely. This became evident when the person who’s been following you approached you as you turned into an isolated alley. “Lady Faustinia” suddenly said a voice behind you. It belonged to a woman in her thirties, with short black hairs, emerald green eyes and wearing a tight leather armor. She carried no weapon, but the look on her face was confident.
“I’m honored to meet you. I don’t have the time to explain why I’m approaching you right now. But one thing I know: you wish to bring back Westcrown to his former glory. You’re sick of those shadows haunting our nights, and you despise the city’s nobility decline. This we share. Also, we know that you recently discovered some forbidden books”. The woman smiled reassuringly: “No worries, I’m not going to tell that to the Asmodean Inquisition. But I would like to hear your opinion on our city’s current state. How we came to this and how we can improve the situation. Of course, this is not the right place or moment. Meet me at Vizio’s Tavern in two days. I’m sure you know where the tavern is, but just to be sure you’ll be able to find it…It’s in Rego Scripa, Jace Tilernos Road 154, northeast of Taranik House. As you can imagine, I cannot reveal you more at the moment”.
Of course, Faustinia hesitated. That was precisely the way she knew the Inquisition was used to capture prisoners. Or maybe the Hellknights, or the Dottari. Faustinia was suspicious of the meeting and she didn’t accepted nor declined the invite. The fact that whoever was behind this invitation already knew about her forbidden tomes, though, made it all the more difficult. Anyway, the woman managed to dispel at least some of your doubts. “This is not a trap my lady, I swear it on my honor. I know it’s hard to trust someone in these hard times, with the government pitting the citizens against each other. But we’re not going to report you to the Inquisition or anyone else. We just need you and your knowledge. In exchange for your gifts and wisdom, we’ll provide you with all the protection you need in order to continue your investigations in our city’s true history. We really value you, Lady Faustinia, and your collaboration would be extremely useful to us and to a greater extent, to our city as a whole. Consider my offer. We’ll be waiting for you at 4 o’clock for an early dinner. Have a nice day, Lady Faustinia”.
---
Eventually, you decided not to attend the meeting. The woman was not able to dispel all your doubts. You spent the following days hiding away your forbidden tomes in your crumbling manor, growing increasingly paranoid with each visit. You were so paranoid that you even pretended not to be home when your good friend and arcane teacher Nicklod Starweather came for your usual lesson. You refused to get out of home to buy groceries and you ended up not eating at all for a few days. You locked yourself into your house, anticipating a visit from the Inquisition or the Hellknights that never came.
As the days passed, you started to realized that maybe you were wrong refusing the offer to meet the emerald-eyed woman and her “friends”. If the Inquisition or someone else willing to hurt you was behind it, it would have not hesitated to pay a visit to your family manor. But no one came. Maybe the woman was sincere. Anyway, you had not the time to dwell on your supposed mistakes for too long. A letter came in the afternoon, five days after you first met the mysterious woman who know too much about your family and lineage.
You had another chance. Maybe the last one. Or this could be just another trap from someone who was having fun in playing cat-and-mouse with you. Had you turned down the invitation once again, you would have never known.
One evening, though, it all changed. You were in the garden, while all of the others were eating in the dining room; you were not hungry at all that particular day, so you retired in a corner of the maze of bushes in the garden to play your violin all alone. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, you heard a whispered conversation. Someone was walking right behind the bush. One of the voices was familiar to you: you would have bet that it belonged to the temple’s high-priestess. The other voice was kind and harmonious, with a fresh, foreigner accent. It belonged to a young man.
Paralyzed by the surprise, you stopped playing instantly, and almost simultaneously the conversation abruptly ended. “Oh, I’m sorry…” you heard. It was the high-priestess’ voice. “There’s nothing to worry about, milady” answered the young man without losing its kindness. “Who was playing?” he asked. “I…I don’t know, probably an acolyte…We can delete its memory if…” hesitantly said the priestess. “There’s no need for it. I’ll see you tomorrow, milady. I’ll go and speak with this acolyte”.
Stuck by fear and anxiousness, you looked everywhere for a hiding place, but there was not. Also, had you tried to sneak out, you would have stumbled upon the high priestess and her interlocutor. Before you could even plan a course of actions, the young man appeared in front of you. He was a fascinating half-elf in his fifties, with long black hairs, slightly pointed ears and hazel eyes. He was wearing a white robe with a golden thread embroidery. He was tall and lean, and his whole person radiated kindness and self-confidence. He looked at you with a smile. A large smile. A genuine smile. There was not hidden despise in his hazel eyes, or at least he was very skilled at concealing it. “Why did you stop? I was enjoying your tune. Please, resume playing” he said kindly as he drew closer and sat on the same stone bench you were occupying.
You spent the whole night talking to the half-elf. Arael, since this was his name, proved kind and very interested to you and your story, and what was most surprising, he showed no prejudice at all towards your tiefling nature. He encouraged you to reveal your whole story to him, and although you were initially reluctant to expose yourself to a man you had just met, his smile was so charming and his words so reassuring that you somehow ended up revealing almost everything to him.
In the following weeks, Arael visited the Temple of Shelyn several times, and each time he devoted some hours to talk with you. The half-elf grew increasingly fond of you, and patiently listened to your story. Once he even came to the temple just to talk with you. He didn’t tell much about himself: the only things you were able to find out about him were that he was a cleric of an unspecified deity (but you suspected he worshipped Iomedae, the goddess of valor and justice) and that he was not born in Westcrown, although he revealed quite fond of the city and its history and traditions.
---
One day, while you were walking near the Arodennama after running some errand on behalf of the high priestess, you started to feel like someone was observing you from a distance. You were used to it. Each time you left the temple, the eyes of the Wiscrani were on you. But this time was different: it was like someone was chasing you. You grew increasingly worried and started to run. You ended up in a narrow alley and tripped over due to a puddle of murky water you had not noticed. You got all messed up and dirty and as soon as you managed to get back on your feet, you saw a shadow on the wall before you. You turned instantly, and you saw a woman in her thirties, with short black hairs, emerald green eyes and wearing a tight leather armor. She carried no weapon, but the look on her face was confident.
“You must be Catina, I suppose” said the woman kindly, while offering you a hand to help you to stand up. “Don’t be afraid, little thing. I mean no harm to you. I was hoping we could meet each other and this seems just like the best place. We have a friend in common, little thing. He’s a half-elf, a kind and honorable man. I suppose you’ve already understood whom I’m talking about. He told me about you. And I think you’re just the kind of person I’m looking for. I know that you’ve long heard rumors of dark deeds afoot in Westcrown. Shipments of valuable cargo that go missing with nary a trace or question asked. People who disappear as though they never existed. Lords of business and nobles who speak in veiled references and accidental slips of masters even they must obey. I’m here to help you solve these mysteries. You’re special, Catina. And you’ve been chosen. You’re not the only one, though. There are others who are interested in helping our city and improve our world. We’re meeting tonight at Vizio’s Tavern. It’s in Rego Scripa, Jace Tilernos Road 154, northeast of Taranik House. We’ll wait you at 4 o’clock for an early dinner.” The woman was suddenly interrupted by the sound of steps behind her. “I must go now. See you later, Catina.” Silent as a shadow, the woman disappeared in the alley.
Unfortunately, on the first night in Parego Dospera, you were ambushed by a gang of horned thugs: you couldn’t see all that well in the dark, but you had the impression that your aggressors were all tiefling. Red skin, red eyes, someone even got a tail. You had no doubt about how to react. You started to run desperately amid the ruins, hoping to outrun them. You managed to lose them, but you were forced to re-enter in the city proper. And the nights of Westcrown were anything but safe. You had heard stories about the shadows lurking in the darkness for your whole life. As a child, you had dreamed about defeating them and becoming a hero of the city. But that was not just as easy as you had imagined. You heard something creeping behind you. Something was moving in the dark. You felt a chill thrill running through your spine, and again you run, you run desperately to a safe place. But there was no such a place, since light meant pirajas, pirajas meant Dottari and Dottari meant slavery and punishment. That brand still hurt, after all this time. You started to hear the sound of vases shattering onto the ground, of screams and laughter, mixed with your heavy breath. All the doors were closed. Eventually, you knew you had to enter somewhere without an invitation. And so you did: you pulled out you thieves’ tools from your bag and lock-picked the door to a private house. You quickly sneaked inside and up to the second floor. You saw a bed, and a human child sleeping in it. You stealthily moved across the room, and eventually decided that your best hope was to find a shelter here, praying that no one would notice you before the sun was high in the sky. You found such a place in a closet containing the child’s clothes along with the puppet of a goblin. Everything was strange and crazy, and maybe the goblin puppet was not a goblin. You were exhausted, and you knew. You fell asleep in a matter of minutes.
---
Fortunately, the child decided not to wear his clothes before breakfast and in the following morning you managed to sneak away from the house you entered the night before. You used the window in order to reach an isolated alley. From there, you traveled south in an attempt of reaching the Floating Market, where you hoped to meet some old friend who could help you. You had heard stories about escaped slaves, and you knew that there was someone who was helping them to hide away and possibly leave Cheliax for good. You just hoped that such people would be willing to help a little halfling with big enemies as well.
---
After a whole morning spent in the Floating Market, you ended up cursing yourself and your bad decision. The market was the worst place where to hide: everyone knew you there, and of course most of them would have been much more inclined to report you to the authorities rather than helping you. This held true especially because the Dottari were paying a high reward to those who denounced crimes, and escaping slavery was one of the worst crimes around, just a step behind treason and heresy. An assassin would have been treated kinder than you, had you been caught. Fortunately, no one knew about your escape and you were quite skilled and not being noticed, when you didn’t want to.
When all hopes were crumbling and you were resting in a dark and narrow alley, Jemet Winterbole stumbled upon you. Your old friend smiled at you with a grin and disappeared. You tried to chase him, but he was nowhere to be seen. You ended up cursing everything around you and fell asleep in the alley, tired from the hard times you had endured the day before. When you woke up, you found a letter tucked into your clothes.
Letter
__________________________________
But, even though it might be difficult to believe for those who didn’t know him, those were not the things causing Lorenzo’s distress. It was the glory, the honor, the valor: all things that his heritage would have bestowed on him upon birth, and that he unjustly lacked due to causes that Lorenzo could not yet understand. He wanted to delve deeper into the matter, discover more about his family and his lineage, in order to understand why his family’s glory had declined so quickly and irreversibly. He was frustrated mainly because no one seemed to be able to help. Just reading the tomes was not enough. He was barely able to read, and Cheliaxan family books could prove quite tricky to understand. Then, someone came and helped him out: one day, when he got home, on his night table he found another book lying next to his family book. It was a precious tome, worth a handful of golden coins (thus a few weeks of work), with a gold-trimmed cover and illustrations, but Lorenzo knew he would have never sold it since he saw the sword surrounded by the sun on the cover. The book was a copy of the Acts of Iomedae. Inside the book, which Lorenzo read thoroughly, he found a simple, handwritten note: “This book is the key to understand the other one”.
---
A few months passed, and Lorenzo’s personality became more and more influenced by the Acts of Iomedae, as he learned the great deeds of the Inheritor and saw a world of valor and justice. This caused him to refuse the current state of the world around him, but he didn’t realize it until he had the chance to.
One day, while he was taking a break from work and eating his meal on a stone staircase in front of the vira he was repairing with Oleg, a woman in her thirties, with short black hairs, emerald green eyes and wearing a tight leather armor approached Lorenzo. She carried no weapons, but the look on her face was confident.
“Hey, big boy! You’re Lorenzo, aren’t you?” asked the woman with a confident smile as she sat next to him, “Mind if we share a few words?” Lorenzo found nothing bad in the woman’s request and let her sit next to him. “You’re working on that vira, aren’t you? It must be a tiring work, especially for someone who deserves more than that. But let’s face it. Almost everyone in this country thinks to deserve more than what he possesses. Ask a nobleman, rich and powerful, if he thinks he would deserve more, and he’ll likely answer you that yes, he deserves much more than what he already has. I suppose that even the owner of the vira you’re repairing would answer in the same way”.
“I don’t think so, milady” quickly replied Lorenzo, “Lord Tilernos, the owner of the vira I’m repairing, is a worthy and honorable man, and of all the nobles I’ve worked for in the past, he’s the less greedy one”.
The woman grinned and nodded. “Oh, so that’s vira Tilernos? I’m impressed, Sir Mancini. I didn’t know you were such a skilled stonemason”
“How do you know my name…and family name?” asked Lorenzo, growing increasingly suspicious.
The woman replied with a confident smile. “I know a lot of things going on in this city, Lorenzo, included your noble heritage. That book you found on your bedside table…I placed it there, personally. A dear friend gave me it and told me to give it to you. I know you’re not satisfied with this city. I know you suffer each time you hear that Westcrown is only a pale shadow of its former glory. And I know that you, just as many others, are not content with our current government. I won’t ask you to confirm this to me, now. It could be dangerous to express one’s discontent in this country, we both know, especially when religion and government are concerned. Not to mention the shadows that lurks in the dark when the sun goes down. But I suppose you know what I’m talking about”. The woman sighed and took a long glance at the horizon before continuing: “You’re not the only one who thinks this city deserves better than this. Like-minded individuals tend to gather and spend time together, don’t you agree? Well, if you’re the person I think you are, listen to me. Meet me in three days at Vizio’s Tavern. It’s in Rego Scripa, Jace Tilernos Road 154, northeast of Taranik House. We’ll be waiting you for an early dinner, at 4 o’clock. See you there Lorenzo” said the woman as she stood up, “And don’t get nervous. This is no trap. Just someone trying to restore this place to its former glory.”
________________________________________
Oleg didn't know much about Vizio's Tavern other than it was abandoned. It used to be a place where people went to gripe but that could probably be said of any tavern these days. The mood in the city pretty much made sure that people in taverns rarely had a good time but rather went there to drown their sorrows. That's what Lorenzo's grandfather used to do. All the time.
The dwarf was none too happy that Lorenzo left early but the young man made an excuse saying that one of his sisters was sick and needed help. Besides, he had started his work earlier that day to cover for his early afternoon dismissal.
Like-minded individuals The word resonated with Lorenzo but what did that woman really mean. it was clear that she knew about his family. She even called him 'sir'. Ha, that felt strange but she wasn't kidding like Oleg was when he called Lorenzo 'Lord Lorenzo'.
Lorenzo debated whether to go to an abandoned place. The lady said it was not a trap but what con artist would tell you it's a trap so that was no consolation.
In the end he decided to go. If only to obtain more information about his family and his goddess. The talk about 'former glory' also resonated strongly with Lorenzo. He implored his soul to Iomedae and headed for this abandoned tavern.
His hopes came crashing down when the door was locked. Fool. You're just a fool boy, Lorenzo...
________________
|
Ever since Faustinia found that history in her library, she hadn't had a moment of real rest. As she pored over that unmodified account of her family, she was driven equally by a scholar's obsession and aristocratic pride. She read until her eyes forced themselves closed, waking up slumped at her desk to ink stains and candle stumps. After days of this, she met that woman who seemed to know about the book, and that's when the sleeplessness began in earnest.
Between her research and her paranoia, Faustinia would catch herself dozing off for minutes at a time. Each time, she woke with the niggling thought of pushing further into her study or, more often, woke to real or imagined noises of rustling paper and creaking wood, terrified that the Inquisition had arrived to take her away. But after several days, nothing came of it - until the letter did. After some deliberation, Faustinia made up her mind. This was the end. Either this was an opportunity to prove that the Xerysis name could have power once again, or she was already slated for execution and she might as well face it head on.
She knew that Vizio's tavern had been abandoned, and the rumors were that it was under new owners who had failed to get it going. Faustinia figured they were either underfunded or simply dragging their feet. But perhaps she had met one of the owners already, and the place was busier than it seemed. In any case, she packed a small bag for emergencies, told the servants she would be out of the house for a while, and made her way to Vizio's.
Now, as her walking staff clicks on the stone streets, she glances into alleys and up at roof tops, nervously awaiting an assassin or captor that never arrives. She releases a long, shaky breath as she attempts to calm herself. It's somewhat successful, but her lack of sleep and diet of mostly coffee over the past week or so certainly contributes to her shakiness. When she arrives at the tavern’s closed door, she stands to consider her options. Would it be better not to get involved? If she were walking into a trap, the Inquisition would likely make her punishment even more painful and disgraceful than living in her crumbling estate and pining for lost glory. But was she not already tortured by every shadow she caught sight of? She thought back to the letter again: put her thoughts aside and listen to her heart.
Faustinia stares at the door, then turns and starts to walk away. A flash of movement catches her eye, and she turns to see a polished glass mirror in a storefront window. Her hair and clothes are in place just as they should be, despite her frazzled state. She blinks her tired eyes, rimmed with dark circles from her lack of sleep. She touches the ivory cameo on the silver chain around her neck. An heirloom with awakened power, a reminder of the past and a sign of her own future. She takes another deep breath, steadier this time, and turns back again toward the tavern. She looks around for spies and Dottari, then raises her hand and knocks.
Sev rolls up the note, unrolls it, reads it one more time and rolls it up again, looking nervously up and down the alley the whole time.
Bold? Me? The halfling almost laughs at the idea as he picks himself up off the ground and dusts off his dirty clothes.
Do I really want to improve Westcrown? He thinks to himself over and over again as he moves about the city, avoiding known guard patrols. I guess I don't have much of a choice for now. Resolving to at least meet this contact Sev ducks into another ally and starts taking off his clothes, shivering both from fear of getting caught and the cold wind on his back.
Between falling asleep outside and running from gods-know-what the previous night the runaway looked liked a beggar on the street. It was a great disguise but no one would talk to him looking like this.
Thankfully Sev had stolen a few pieces of clothing from the young boy whose closet he'd hidden in. In the dark it was hard to tell what he'd taken but when he opened his pack he saw a plain brown shirt and similar colored breeches. Now he'd at least look like a peasant.
Sev knew he couldn't ask any house slaves that he knew, for fear of leading his master right to him, so he had to stick with talking to strangers. It was uncomfortable, and he stuttered or tripped over his words, but after a few inquiries he felt he knew enough about the tavern to feel relatively safe going there.
Jemet wouldn't lead me into a trap after all? Would he? Maybe the new tavern owners are good people? I hope they have food at least.
His fears of capture keeps him moving at a slow pace, and he arrives at Vizio's a few minutes late. The quiet building doesn't calm his nerves, and it takes him a few more moments to work up the nerve to knock on the front door.
What are you roping me into Jemet?
______________________________________________________
Catina drew a blank while trying to write about that days' events. Confused by her conversation with the short-haired woman - if you could really call it a conversation - she tries and tries to find that right words. That has never happened to her; not in her happy childhood, not after that horrid week that left her scarred and orphaned and not even during the dreary years since then. Now, apparently, something had changed. Or maybe it had already changed upon meeting Arael? She said he told her about me...
The words wouldn't come as she tried to recall what the woman said exactly. Catina could vividly recall her fear as she fled from her pursuer, but the details of the conversation were somehow blurry. All that's she left with is the stunning realization that she'd be a person that someone would be looking for, and not in a negative sense. It is almost too much for the young tiefling to grasp. She tentatively wrote some words in her diary, flashes that she can still recall. The words looked strange to her, alien even. "Special. Chosen. Improve our world."[i] She scoffed at reading what she wrote. "I can barely help myself. If I could've improved that, wouldn't I have done so already," she scampered to herself. But the other words kept pulling her eyes, creating an irresistible lure of hope...
--
Two hours later, Catina gets dressed for her meeting, the one that she has formed a thousand ideas about: many disappointing, some horrifying, and a few that she immediately dismisses as fantastical delusions. She has had to spend the rest of the morning trying to clean and dry her cloak and dress, muddy from the fall in the alley that morning. She inspects the result with resigned dissatisfaction when she hears the church bell strike three and realizes she has to hurry. she slips on the green woolen dress with the blue shrug, and puts on her cloak with the hood drawn up to hide her horns. She spends the next fifteen minutes roaming around the temple grounds, checking - again, in vain - whether Arael might have come around to visit her. [i]Probably not. But I need someone to tell me what's going on!
--
Because of her delay, Catina finds that she has to rush through the city to be on time for her meeting, keeping to the small alleys and near the sides of the streets like she's used to, keeping one hand on her hood to keep her face obscured. It is near to four when she arrives at Tilernos Road, and the bells have struck the full hour already once she's found the right door. This is probably a good thing, because it saves her from second-guessing the entire endeavor. She hurries across the street and gives a timid knock on the door.
As soon as Lorenzo arrives at Vizio's Tavern, and when he's almost about to turn around and go back home, the tavern's door swings open and a familiar woman appears behind it. She's the same woman that invited him. She still wears her leather armor. "Pss. Lorenzo!" she whispers, "Come in!"
Vizio's Tavern is a single-story building, with wooden roof and floor. Three small wooden tables are placed in the largest part of the common room, along with several chairs. The place is clean, but it gives the impression that its spaces are a little too empty. There's no decoration on the walls, and the fireplace is clean and burning. There's a boiling cauldron on the fire, and whatever it contains, it smells good. The place is a little hot inside, since its summer. On the north of the building there's a wooden bar, in front of which three stools are placed. The woman is behind the bar, and when Lorenzo enters the tavern he finds her busy cleaning some wooden mugs.
"Be welcome, Sir Mancini. Would you be so kind to close the door behind you?" she asks kindly as soon as Lorenzo enters the tavern. Then the woman puts the mug she was cleaning on the bar along with the rag she was using to clean it up and comes closer, her hand leaning forward. As soon as she reaches Lorenzo, the woman shakes hands with him and smiles brightly. "Time for introductions, I suppose. I'm Janiven."
When introductions are done, Janiven smiles again. "Please be seated Lorenzo. Would you like a mug of ale as we wait for the others to arrive? We have some good ale here, even though it's not nearly as good as the one your superior's cousin sells in the Floating Market."
---
Lorenzo is given a mug of ale, and is left alone with his thoughts as Janiven continues cooking the dinner and cleaning the dinnerware. A few minutes after Lorenzo's arrival, someone knocks at the door. It's Lady Faustinia. Janiven greets the noblewoman kindly, offers her a mug of ale, excusing herself for not having something finer to suit the noblewoman's fine taste, and invites Faustinia to have a sit and talk to Lorenzo as they wait for the other to arrive.
---
A few minutes after, Sev arrives, quickly followed by Catina. Janiven greets both of them and introduces herself as she's done before to Lorenzo and Lady Faustinia, then she offers them a dinner as soon as the group is gathered around a table. The fish soup she serves you is satisfactory but not exceptional. Janives joins you for the meal, adding a chair to the table you've chosen.
____________________________________________
Lorenzo barely nods when Janiven refers to him as 'Sir Mancini'. Noting that he was by himself, he asked, "So, ma'am. How is it that you know about me and my family? Are you the one that gave me the book with my family history?'
He scoffed and shrugged, "And what of it? Even if it is true, what can I do? Go ask the current owners of my family's estate to give it to me? Not likely."
Lorenzo sipped on his fish soup as he watched the others. With the exception of the older lady, the other two seemed scared and just as out of place as he was. Like minded people...
Lorenzo made a fist and brought it to his heart commending himself to the Lady. For the Heart
Hoping this was for the lost glory of Westcrown, he broke the ice, "So are you all ... students of history? Do you also suspect that this place was different than what the government tells us?"
The young woman entering the tavern along Janiven, built short and stocky, is slightly flustered from her rush to be in time for the meeting. She is wearing a green woolen dress, a simple cut but of good quality. Over the dress she wears a blue shrug with sparse embroidery. On her wrist dangles a bracelet: cheap by the look of it, made from pewter, but with intricate carving of Shelyn's songbird all around and painting in a multitude of colours with enamel. The bracelet draws attention to the girl's hands, pale and ending in unnaturally long fingers.
Despite the heat in the room, she keeps the hood of her cloak up initially, obscuring the details of her face unless being directly looked at. Straight auburn hair falls in long locks besides her face, which has burn scars on both cheeks. It could be imagination, but to those versed in Infernal, the shapes of those scars seem to spell out various obscenities. If perceptive, one might notice that the of her cloak hood does not rest flat on her head, but seems to float about two inches above the crown, an unfortunate effect from the vestigial horns on her forehead.
The girl stays near the door for a moment while she looks around the tavern, trying to get her bearing. She nods at Janiven's introduction and apologizes repeatedly for almost being late. She looks quite intimidated by the people already there, although she is visibly encouraged by the presence of a halfling at the table.
She cautiously approaches the table at Janiven's suggestion, and suddenly recognizes Lorenzo. Him? What is he doing here?! Realizing that he hasn't recognized has yet, she takes a seat next to him, faces away from him and keeps her tongue while trying to work out what to say. She shakes her head at his question. "No," she answers softly. "Student of history...? I'm not really sure why I'm here..." She takes her spoon in one hand, sees her long fingers and promptly puts it back, putting her hands in her lap and leaving the soup for now, good as it smelled. She takes a look around the table and lets her gaze rest upon the the immaculate woman, radiating power and confidence. What am I doing here?
Janiven smiles at Lorenzo: she's currently busy repairing a hole in the wooden roof, perched atop a small stepladder. "No Lorenzo, I'm not. It was Arael's doing. You're going to meet him soon. He knew your family because he has long studied history, and...well, I suppose you're going to discuss this matter with him personally once you'll meet him. He's a very good person, I'm sure you'll appreciate him."
Janiven smiles at Lorenzo: she's currently busy repairing a hole in the wooden roof, perched atop a small stepladder. "No Lorenzo, I'm not. It was Arael's doing. You're going to meet him soon. He knew your family because he has long studied history, and...well, I suppose you're going to discuss this matter with him personally once you'll meet him. He's a very good person, I'm sure you'll appreciate him."
"Arael? Will he be here later today?"
He placed the scabbard of his sword aside, "Do you need help? I'm pretty handy with things like that."
But you already know that; don't you? I wonder what else she knows about me.
She cautiously approaches the table at Janiven's suggestion, and suddenly recognizes Lorenzo. Him? What is he doing here?! Realizing that he hasn't recognized has yet, she takes a seat next to him, faces away from him and keeps her tongue while trying to work out what to say. She shakes her head at his question. "No," she answers softly. "Student of history...? I'm not really sure why I'm here..." She takes her spoon in one hand, sees her long fingers and promptly puts it back, putting her hands in her lap and leaving the soup for now, good as it...
Lorenzo does a double take when he hears her voice. Was it her? She certainly sort of looked like her.
The young man cleared his throat, "Well, heck we could all join a club then because I'm not really sure what I'm doing here either."
He then peers closer, "But I do know you. Do you remember me? You fixed my easel and then you... left."
He quickly covers up, "I'm sorry if I offended you. it was not my intention..."
"Arael? Will he be here later today?"
He placed the scabbard of his sword aside, "Do you need help? I'm pretty handy with things like that."
But you already know that; don't you? I wonder what else she knows about me.
Janiven stares at Lorenzo for a few moments before answering. "Don't know yet. He's very busy of late, but he should manage to get here on time. No need for help, though; just sit and relax Lorenzo, I suppose you've worked enough for today" says the woman with a smile on her face.
|
|
Faustinia sits at the table, legs crossed, posture impeccable. She wears the robes of a scholar, dark blue with voluminous sleeves and a silver trim, well made with not a single ink stain or stray thread. Her jewelry is simple: an ivory cameo on a silver chain, geometric earrings, and a dark wooden comb holding her hair in place. She sips occasionally from the mug that Janiven handed her, surveying the room with composure, if not superiority. The dark circles of sleeplessness under her eyes are the only indication she gives off that anything is out of place.
In truth, she is still uncertain whether this is a trap or not. Her air of confidence is rooted in her own self-certainty, but in this unusual place it's born at least as much from decades of practice. After the proper introductions between herself, Janiven, and the others, she answers Lorenzo: "I've studied a bit of history, yes. Although you young people would probably consider my youth part of 'history,' wouldn't you?" She smiles and offers a small, disarming laugh, avoiding the question of government for now. Isn't this the young man who I gave those family histories to? Was that only a week ago? she thinks, brow furrowing slightly. It feels much longer since then. The boy may have noble ancestors, but his subtlety is...lacking.
Despite her attempts at easy conversation, her eyes keep coming back to Catina. Her bizarre fingers, the infernal burns on her face, the way her hood doesn't quite sit right... Faustinia catches herself staring at the girl's unusual features, thankful for when Lorenzo steps in to engage her. "So..." she begins, "how did you all meet Janiven? Our host certainly seems to be...acquainted with many different circles of folk, no?" She sips from her mug again, trying to avoid letting her eyes flick once again toward the infernal child.
Catina seems to wither under the repeated looks from Faustinia. She'd look away, except that that would mean she has to turn in Lorenzo's direction and risk him recognizing her. The result is that she can't help but meet the noblewoman's gaze, uncomfortably. The woman's question brings back memories of that morning, and she checks quickly whether any of the mud stains are still visible on her dress. "Well, Janiven caught up with me this morning. She told me about this meeting, that she was looking for people to... to make things better." She sounds uncertain, not from jaded skepticism that such a thing could be done, but from lack of a clear idea on what that might entail.
The half-ling looks awkwardly at the rest of the people gathered. He listens as they speak but doesn't quite know what to do. He's still not entirely sure what he's doing here.
He runs a hand through his ruddy blond hair, eyeing the fish soup cautiously. He waits for all of the rest of the people to start eating before he does, but once he starts he realizes just how long it's been since he's last eaten and can not stop until the bowl is dry.
When he's done, he stares at the rest of the company, his big green eyes darting downward if anyone notices him looking.
When he finally speaks, it's quiet, and difficult to make out.
"I don't know Janiven. I-I'm not really sure why I'm here." He stares down into his empty bowl and continues speaking. "I'll help with whatever though. I know how to clean and I can keep quiet and stay out of sight, if that helps."
He looks up briefly and tries to smile but it comes off forced and awkward. "I'm S-Sev by the way. Wh-what were your names again?"
"I don't know Janiven. I-I'm not really sure why I'm here." He stares down into his empty bowl and continues speaking. "I'll help with whatever though. I know how to clean and I can keep quiet and stay out of sight, if that helps."
He looks up briefly and tries to smile but it comes off forced and awkward. "I'm S-Sev by the way. Wh-what were your names again?"
Lorenzo extended his hand, My name is Lorenzo, a stone mason." He then looked at Janiven and stated, "My name is Lorenzo, Lorenzo Mancini, last male heir to the Mancini name."
He quickly added, "As for meeting Janiven here. She came to see me when I was working at the Tilernos Vira. I'm not sure how I fit into all of this but it's clear she has something in mind and I think we all have a part to play. I don't know what I can do but you must all be very special people."
As the others introduce themselves, Catina knows she can't keep silent any longer. She darts a quick look at Faustinia to the side the decides to focus on Sev, across the table from her. With a slight tremble of her hands she removes the hood of her cloak, allowing all to see her for what she is. "Hello. I am Catina, Bon Durati. Acolyte at the temple of Shelyn," she adds with a jangle of her wrist to show off the bracelet.
After her introduction, Catina turns to Lorenzo and gives him a weak wave of her hand. "Hi, it's me," she says weakly, colour staining her cheeks in embarrassment.
When she notices Sev eying his soup, she gives him a small smile and an encouraging nod, before picking up her own spoon again and starting on her soup. This conveniently gives her an excuse not to look at the others, while she feels their eyes on her, on her scars and horns.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Janiven watches as you get to know each other with a smile. She seems to be paying close attention to you and your words as you speak.
Right after Sev speaks, Janiven smiles reassuringly to the halfling. "Don't worry about it, Sev. You may not know us, but we know you...and your choice" Then the woman breaks into a laughter. "...And no, we don't need you to clean anything Sev. Would you like another bowl of soup? You seem hungry!"
Sev takes Lorenzo's hand and gives it a very weak shake, grimacing as he does. He'd never shaken hands with a human before!
"I'm not very special. Just a servant. That's not as useful as a stone mason, so I guess you're already more s-special than me." As he speaks his voice gets lower and lower and he quickly turns back to his food.
Having never seen a tiefling before, Sev's eyes go even wider than usual as Catina removes her hood. He almost chokes on his soup he's so surprised but he recovers, not wanting to let the food go to waste. Before he has time to ask her about her strange features, not even considering that it might be taboo, Janiven pulls his attention away.
"Y-you know I-" He cuts himself off before revealing that he's a runaway to anyone else, not entirely sure what kind of motives the rest of the gathered individuals might have. The older woman certainly seemed like a noble, would she turn him in?
Clearing his mind once again of worry, he looks back at Janiven and smiles sheepishly, holding out his bowl. "Y-yes please, if it's not any trouble."
Recovering from both the shock of Catina's heritage and Janivens offer of more food Sev waits quietly for more food.
Catina feels herself grow smaller at Sev's reaction to her, but a thought occurs to her that makes his shock more bearable somehow. Poor fellow. He's not just afraid of me, he's afraid of everything.
She eats her soup and startles at Janiven's sudden burst of laughter. She peeks up from her bowl to take a better look at the woman, and gets a bit suspicious. Between ladling in spoonfuls of the fish broth, she occasionally looks at the front window. Maybe we're waiting for one more? "Excuse me, Miss Janiven... Will Arael join us as well?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The revelation that Catina was a tiefling came as no surprise to Lorenzo. He sort of whispered to her, "We need to talk later..."
tag?
He then turned to Faustina, "Ma'am, it is good to see you. I must thank you again for the books you gave me the other time. I do have some questions and wanted to see if you were available to help me out with some things."
tag?
He then turned to Sev, "I'm not special because I'm a stone mason. It's just a skill. I'm sure you're good at the things you do. So what are you good at," He smiled, "Besides eating fish soup, that is."
tag?
|
|
”Ah, apologies. Even though we are in an...unusual meeting, that’s no excuse to have forgotten my manners. I am Lady Faustinia Xerysis. A pleasure to meet you--Sev, was it?” she says with a practiced smile. Between the young man who had his own complicated family history and the nervous hafling, Faustinia begins to relax, confident in her station. The tiefling girl still put her on edge, and she does her best to avoid staring at her freshly revealed horns.
She levels a curious look at Catina for a moment, distracted from her discomfort by sudden, familiar nostalgia. ”Did you say Bon Durati? Like the opera singer? Oh, I love the opera. I think I saw Bon Durati in Huntress of Heroes; it was a lovely performance. I, well…” Faustinia trails off, remembering the tragic disappearance all those years ago. Uncharacteristically, she decides not to pry into the girl’s family, at least not now.
Luckily, she is saved from having to think about the immediate past when Lorenzo speaks to her. She offers him a pleasant smile, replying, ”Oh, of course, Lorenzo! I do hope you got some use out of those books. I would be happy to answer any questions you have, of course. I must acknowledge, some of those tomes I provided were rather old, and sometimes the language is a bit archaic. I am glad you are learning your history, though. Is there anything I can help you with right now?”
She follows Lorenzo’s conversation as well, addressing Sev, ”Sir Mancini is right, servitude is quite useful in its own right! I do my best to take care of House Xerysis, of course, but I could never maintain the place without our hardworking servants. Are you on loan from your usual house to Janiven today?”
”Janiven?” she intones, catching the woman smiling at them all. ”This is a lovely gathering, but I believe in your letter you said you would require my assistance. What sort of knowledge were you hoping to gain? Historical? Or perhaps arcane? I am no great magician, but I am sure I could answer some rudimentary things. Or perhaps,” she suggests with a smile, ”you have merely gathered us here for the sake of gossip. It is a fine pastime as far as I am concerned, but I must admit that I am usually drinking tea in such circumstances.” She takes another sip from the mug of ale, allowing the alcohol to loosen her tongue a bit. In for a pinch, in for a pound, I suppose.
"I'm sure you're good at the things you do. So what are you good at," He smiled, "Besides eating fish soup, that is."
Sev suddenly feels self conscious about the soup he's been eating a pushes the second bowl a little away from him at the table. I'm no good at this! He thinks to himself as he tries to answer the questions fired his way.
"I can be very quiet, and I can climb pretty well I suppose. I can shoot an arrow pretty good!" He smiles broadly until Faustinia speaks to him as well.
”Sir Mancini is right, servitude is quite useful in its own right! I do my best to take care of House Xerysis, of course, but I could never maintain the place without our hardworking servants. Are you on loan from your usual house to Janiven today?”
I knew it! Sev's eyes go wide yet again and his heart races in his chest. What do I say? I can't tell her what House I'm from. Thinking on his feet, Sev demonstrates something else he's good at.
"M-my house wants to remain a-anonymous, but yes that's why I'm here. To help Janiven c-clean up a few things." He turns his head toward the woman who gathered them here, hoping she corroborates his story.
He starts to feel even more nervous with attention on him so does his best to deflect the conversation on to someone else.
"Um, Mr. Mancini you seem to know everyone else here, have you b-built things for them? I-is that the right word? Built?" His natural curiosity starts to creep out as he processes the information he's learned from the conversations around him. He'd never been able to talk to people so casually before, it was kind of exciting.
Catina leans in to hear what Lorenzo whispers, but isn't content to let it wait until later. She immediately start apologizing and explaining, in half-hushes tones that should still be audible to the others at the table. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? You just startled me, asking if I was in the opera like that. Do I look like someone that people would want to see on stage?" Her angry look makes it clear what she thinks about that. "I was just hanging around there because... because... Well, I don't know, even. I didn't want to yell at you, so I left kind of suddenly." Her anger has swiftly given way to sadness again. "Did I even get around to fixing that tool that you broke? That's the whole reason I dared to walk up to you, you know? You were making something of beauty, and I knew Shelyn's magic could help you when I saw that broken chisel, but I guess I forgot and even messed that up..." As her voice trails off, she looks down at her bracelet, tracing the outline of the songbirds with one of her slender fingers.
--
When Faustinia refers to her father, Catina nods and gives a deferential explanation. "Yes, Miss. Err, my lady," she corrects herself, not sure how to propely address the pristine woman. "My papa was in the opera. Until they had to leave, of course." She tries to sound upbeat to avoid the sad truth, but can't hide the tighness in her voice that betrays the lie. "So, Janiven talked about unexplained disappearances," she continues on her own line ot thought, refering to the words that Janiven spoke at her meeting with the woman that morning. "Do they happen often? Would we be able to do anything about them?"
--
Catina butts into Faustinia's conversation with Sev, when she hears Lorenzo spoke of. "Sir Mancini? Are you a noble, as well? You said you were a stonemason. At the question of whether Sev is on loan, Catina gives Sev the both of them an awkward and quizzical look. On loan... Sev seems fine with it, but that just sounds wrong.
Clearing his mind once again of worry, he looks back at Janiven and smiles sheepishly, holding out his bowl. "Y-yes please, if it's not any trouble."
Janiven sips from her mug of ale before offering Sev a new bowl. "It's not a problem at all Sev. Calm down, there's nothing to worry about. Here, you're among friends, and you should never be afraid of asking something to those who are your friends".
"Excuse me, Miss Janiven... Will Arael join us as well?"
Janiven seems amused by the way in which Catina refers to her. She smiles brightly, and pats the tiefling's hand without showing any sign of loathing for her unnaturally long fingers. Then her expression turns a little worried, even though it's hard to tell whether it's just a result of hesitation or true anxiety. "I don't know, Catina. He told me he would join us, but he's so busy of late..." says the woman before taking another worried glance at the window.
---
When Sev blatantly lies about his purpose in the meeting, Janiven takes an intense look at him, as she was studying his motives. Her brows furrowed, the woman seems to be about to say something, but then looks around her, to each member of the party gathered in the tavern, and sighs.
"Um, Mr. Mancini you seem to know everyone else here, have you b-built things for them? I-is that the right word? Built?" His natural curiosity starts to creep out as he processes the information he's learned from the conversations around him. He'd never been able to talk to people so casually before, it was kind of exciting.
Lorenzo thinks a moment, "Yes, built is the right word or crafted or erected. There are lots of words for construction. But no, I have not built things for these people. I work for my master, Oleg. An old dwarf who taught... is teaching me the craft."
Catina leans in to hear what Lorenzo whispers, but isn't content to let it wait until later. She immediately start apologizing and explaining, in half-hushes tones that should still be audible to the others at the table. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? You just startled me, asking if I was in the opera like that. Do I look like someone that people would want to see on stage?" Her angry look makes it clear what she thinks about that. "I was just hanging around there because... because... Well, I don't know, even. I didn't want to yell at you, so I left kind of suddenly." Her anger has swiftly given way to sadness again. "Did I even get around to fixing that tool that you broke? That's the whole reason I dared to walk up to you, you know? You were making something of beauty, and I knew Shelyn's magic could help you when I saw that broken chisel, but I guess I forgot and even messed that up..." As her voice trails off, she looks down at her bracelet, tracing the outline of the songbirds with one of her slender fingers.
I got off on the wrong fot again.
"Listen, I'm not mad. I am just confused and yes, you did fix the chisel so thank you. It's just that you left suddenly and seemed angry at something I did or say."
Noting everyone was looking at them, he sighed, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for... whatever. I didn't mean to offend you. OK?"
At Janiven's touch, Catina is about to draw back her hands in reflex. She has to take a deep breath when she leaves her hand where it is, allowing the patting. She stares hard at the woman as she tries to fathom what drives her, and why she's not revolted at her, like all the others.
--
Catina looks confused at Lorenzo, then remembers that she did indeed work Shelyn's magic on the chisel that Lorenzo had broken. "Oh yes, you're right." Remembering that seems to lift her spirits a bit. "I hope it did all right after that. I really like the work you were doing on that column. And no, I'm not offended. There's no need for you to apologize. You just asked an innocent question and I overreacted."
|
|
"M-my house wants to remain a-anonymous, but yes that's why I'm here. To help Janiven c-clean up a few things." He turns his head toward the woman who gathered them here, hoping she corroborates his story.
"Ah. I see," Faustinia replies. "I suppose that makes a kind of sense." She does her best to maintain an unresponsive expression, although she can feel an urge to raise a skeptical eyebrow. To 'clean up' things? What kind of code is that? If the halfling is here as part of some ambush, he's certainly not going to be active in it. Poor man is practically shaking.
When Faustinia refers to her father, Catina nods and gives a deferential explanation. "Yes, Miss. Err, my lady," she corrects herself, not sure how to propely address the pristine woman. "My papa was in the opera. Until they had to leave, of course." She tries to sound upbeat to avoid the sad truth, but can't hide the tighness in her voice that betrays the lie. "So, Janiven talked about unexplained disappearances," she continues on her own line ot thought, refering to the words that Janiven spoke at her meeting with the woman that morning. "Do they happen often? Would we be able to do anything about them?"
"Lady Xerysis, or just Faustinia, if you please. As our gracious host says, it sounds like we're all friends here." Faustinia glances at Janiven, but turns her attention back to the tiefling girl. She recognizes the timbre of deflection in the girl's voice, one Faustinia has invoked in the past to avoid talking about her own Troubles, all those years ago.
She lets Catina and Lorenzo converse, trying to choose the right words. When she gets a chance to interject, she says, "Miss Bon Durati - Catina -, I..." she begins, unsure exactly what it is she wants to say. Her nervous glances subside, and Faustinia meets the girl's eyes with a sad, but compassionate empathy. "I'm sorry he...left. My husband and...my daughter also left one night many years ago. I haven't seen them since. Such things have have not been uncommon for over thirty years now, for those who dare to brave the streets at night."
Faustinia sighs. I'm sorry, I should not drag up such ancient history as that. There was a time when this city was happier, but that's no reason to talk about such dour things. Lorenzo, Catina, it sounds like the two of you have met before?" she asks, trying to change the subject. "Either the two of you got off on the wrong foot, or you're already close friends. I haven't heard young people bicker like an old couple before," she jokes with a mischievous smile. "But then, I don't spend much time around young people these days."
When Sev blatantly lies about his purpose in the meeting, Janiven takes an intense look at him, as she was studying his motives. Her brows furrowed, the woman seems to be about to say something, but then looks around her, to each member of the party gathered in the tavern, and sighs.
"Clean things up." Is a phrase used for getting rid of an unsavory element, like the oppressive darkness Sev was asked here to help with, so he didn't lie. If she knows that Sev is a runaway slave it seems to me that she would understand his caution, not suspect him because of it.
""I'm sorry he...left. My husband and...my daughter also left one night many years ago. I haven't seen them since. Such things have have not been uncommon for over thirty years now, for those who dare to brave the streets at night."
Sev breathes a sigh of relief as the focus on him is shifted and the others return to talking among themselves. He tries to follow as much of the conversation as he can, but he doesn't understand the nuance of everyday conversation and he finds himself drained. It doesn't help that he still has not gotten very much sleep since he ran away. When Faustinia begins speaking of disappearances though, he perks up a little.
"Th-that sounds kind of like something that happened to me." He fidgets in his seat and rubs the back of his neck nervously. "A lot of my siblings disappeared one day and no one has been able to get in contact with them. Has it happened very much over the years. I didn't know what. Does anyone know what happens to those people?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Almost an hour passed since you gathered at Vizio's Tavern. The early dinner is now over, and as time passes by, the dreaded sundown approaches. Janiven keeps looking outside with a worried expression, but when it becomes clear that whatever, or whoever, she's waiting for won't come, she stands up, and as you complete your discussion she locks the front door and shutters the windows. Then she takes a deep breath speaks to you: "Thank you again for attending this meeting. I've noticed that you're growing worried about the time passing by. We'll be done in less than an hour, with plenty of time left over for everyone to get home before sunset"
The woman smiles reassuringly, takes another deep breath and starts a short but passionate speech.
"Again, thank you for agreeing to meet with me here. I have chosen each of you for a singular reason—everyone here, myself included, has suffered, whether we realize it or not. I have lived in Westcrown my whole life, and although I love this city, I must admit, as must you, that despite our peace and prosperity, we continue to suffer. Fear should not be an expected part of life, and yet each night brings fear to our doorsteps. Yes, Westcrown has been safe from war and famine for nearly seventy years, and yes, our businesses has prospered—but this safety and prosperity has been bought in the coinage of fear and prayers to Hell. Other lands live free from tyranny. Other cities do not fear the night. Other governments do not cede the streets to monsters of the infernal shadows. Westcrown was once such a place, and she wants to be such a place again. Westcrown is not only her buildings and canals and docks and history—she is also her people. Westcrown is our friends and neighbors, our mothers and fathers, our siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters! With but a small group of supporters and dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of those people. A Westcrown free of these shadowy beasts that stalk our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!”
Janiven’s words are, of course, treason—everyone in Westcrown knows a friend of a friend of a friend who was taken away by a Hellknight or executed after a swift trial for speaking less treasonous words than what Janiven has just uttered.
___________________________________
Catina thinks hard for a while as Faustinia explains about the forms of address to be used. She eventually seems to settle on something. Yes, I suppose we are supposed to be friends. Faustinia should do. She doesn't look quite convinced yet, rarely having met older people I the last years whon she didn't refer to by title of last time, if they wanted her to speak to them at all.
Her resolution at calling Faustinia by her given name clashes with being called by her family name only a moment later, and unlike the noble lady, she doesn't have the good grace to ease the situation. Rather, she just looks awkward. She is emphatic to the woman's sorrow, though, as it mimics her own. "I am really sorry to hear that. Losing a daughter like that must be awful." Her lip trembles for a moment as she notices the symmetry, on some level, and recalls all those years when she had thought her parents had just abandoned her, a thought that still haunts her now and then.
Faustinia's effort to steer the conversation another way doesn't succeed with Catina at first. She blinks a couple of times before she realizes what was being said, then makes a sullen attempt to explain. "Oh, no. We just met the other week, when Lorenzo was working. I was being a total goat, though, as usual... I... I left, kind of abruptly." She looks at Lorenzo, then at Faustinia. "Were we really bickering?"
--
Later, when Sev mentions his disappeared siblings, Catina finds her gaze drawn to Janiven. Her thoughts echo Sev's words. Does anyone know? Does she want us to do something about it? She looks at the woman, full of expectation.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Lorenzo felt that Janiven was speaking directly to him. He found himself nodding at each and every point that she was making. It just felt right to him, it felt right in his heart and something Iomedae would want.
But then he realized that what she had been saying was to go against the established. The same established law that all citizens have agreed to abide by in order to live in a civilized, orderly society.
Clearly in conflict, he asked, "And how do you propose we restore Westcrown back to its former glory. Surely you can't be suggesting some sort of violent overthrow of the established rulers, are you?"
tag?
He looked at the others to see what their expressions were, "Hey I know a friend of Oleg's that disappeared just after talking about this very thing to the wrong person. Are you guys Ok with what she's talking about?"
|
|
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
"You know, of course," Faustinia begins, her tone level and her expression serious, "that you speak treason. People have been killed for far less than what you've said now." She meets Janiven's eyes for a moment, searching for motive, or perhaps answers. Perhaps Faustinia finds Janiven's determination there, or merely wishes for it. In any case, she breaks eye contact and takes a deep breath, releasing it in a long sigh.
"However... you're quite right." Faustinia agrees, then turns to address everyone. "I have long watched Westcrown suffer the threats of monsters in the darkness. And even before that, my family lost nearly everything after the civil war. Even in the revised, authorized histories, it's obvious that we were better off before the war tore our nation asunder and Thrune left Westcrown to crumble. Unfortunately for them, Wiscrani don't give up so easily," she asserts with a smirk.
Faustinia rises from her seat, using her staff to leverage herself into standing. Noting Lorenzo's discomfort, she nods at him, and speaks with a serious tone. "The established rulers are not necessarily justly appointed, simply because they are established, young man. It was barely over a century ago that House Xerysis held significant sway here--a pittance of time against the long arm of history. And so it was not so long ago that your family led the people as well, Sir Mancini," she reminds the noble mason. "As Janiven says, we will need to gather allies. There is power in alliance and respect, and in having the ability to defend the people to earn their allegiance. That said, violence is not out of the question. But let's save that discussion--there's no need for a second civil war quite yet. Janiven, I don't know what you have planned, but I offer my service to your cause. I have lived long enough like a dog under Thrune, that even martyrdom seems preferable. Of course," she adds with a smile, "Hopefully that particular sacrifice will not be necessary."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Catina finds herself listening intently to Janiven during the speech, drawn by the woman's powerful delivery. Initially, she is nodding along to the words, about loss, suffering and fear. The nodding stops at the mention of prosperity and gives way to a worried stare by the time that Janiven lays blame directly at the government. By the end of the speech, she is left gawking with open mouth, unwilling to disagree with anything Janiven said, but not feeling empowered to actually chime in and proclaim herself for this cause.
Lorenzo's words break her stunned state, and it's not until his direct question that she Catina realizes that she will actually have to form an opinion about what Janiven was talking about. Am I Ok with this? Do I actually have a choice? I've never really ever had a choice about anything, did I? Even since... I chose to join the temple of Shelyn, I guess, but that was just because I had to leave the orphanage at the time, and didn't have anywhere to go - and they seemed silly enough to think that there was actually beauty in anything. I'm still there of course, and it's as decent a life as I've had for a long time. But this?
Faustinia standing up breaks her from that train of thought. She is a powerful and beautiful noble woman, and she is willing to sacrifice all that to make things better? Maybe it was better before, and could there really be a chance to make things better? Janiven can clearly see the wonders of this city, the quality of it, same as Lady Faustinia does. Is that also that I see, when I walk the streets, marveling at the temples, and music halls, and the Arodennama? Should I join, to try and make things better? Do I have anything to lose, like the others do?
When coming to a decision, Catina doesn't feel it right to stand up, as Faustinia had done, but she nods as she did during the start of Janiven's speech. "I would like to join," she says in a small voice. "I don't know how I could gather allies and such, but if I can do anything to help, I will..."
Faustinia rises from her seat, using her staff to leverage herself into standing. Noting Lorenzo's discomfort, she nods at him, and speaks with a serious tone. "The established rulers are not necessarily justly appointed, simply because they are established, young man. It was barely over a century ago that House Xerysis held significant sway here--a pittance of time against the long arm of history. And so it was not so long ago that your family led the people as well, Sir Mancini," she reminds the noble mason. "As Janiven says, we will need to gather allies. There is power in alliance and respect, and in having the ability to defend the people to earn their allegiance. That said, violence is not out of the question. But let's save that discussion--there's no need for a second civil war quite yet. Janiven, I don't know what you have planned, but I offer my service to your cause. I have lived long enough like a dog under Thrune, that even martyrdom seems preferable. Of course," she adds with a smile, "Hopefully that particular sacrifice will not be necessary."
Lorenzo nodded, These people or at least Faustina did know that this was dangerous.
He was at a loss for words at first but he wanted to say something, "I am still trying to comprehend all this 'Sir Mancini' and determine whether it's true or not. But you, my Lady, talk about violence and martyrdom..."
He paused for a second, "I have two young sisters that depend on me. There's Oleg and the job at the Tilernos. I have to go to work tomorrow."
He looked about, "I would like to help, truly I would but I think others may be better suited for this than me. I'm... not sure how I can help even I wanted to."
Sev sits where he is, shocked. He's not trembling anymore, for some reason he no longer feels frightened, but he's certainly surprised.
These people live their days without fear and they're still unhappy? He thinks bitterly before processing all of the information. Are the people really unhappy though? Could this idea even succeed.
As the women of the group stand in a show of solidarity, Sev remains seated, staring wide-eyed at each of them. Only Lorenzo seems to see any sense in avoiding treason.
"Are...are you really willing to risk death for this? Are things really so bad out here that you need to rebel?" What did I get myself in to!?
He finds his left hand absentmindedly scratching the brand hidden beneath his clothes as he questions the sanity of everyone around him, but he also feels a little eager, a little inspired.
"And what kind of changes do you want to make?"
Do you intend to keep slaves too?
Catina gives Lorenzo a sympathetic look. What must it be like, to have sisters, people who depend on you? I suppose in that case I wouldn't risk it either. ...and I really have to ask him what all this 'Sir Mancini' business is all about.
Sev's question forces to Catina to come to term with what she's just committed to. And why. She starts talking, and finds that she becomes more sure of herself as she does so. "Risk death? I hadn't really thought about it like that, but I think I might... My life has been a total mess even since I got these," she says, jabbing an angry finger up at her horns, "and in some sense I know where to put the blame for them. You know, it wasn't always like that. I was happy as young girl, living with my papa and mama. And then... things happened, and it all went to Hell. I have been called names, and been spat upon, had things thrown at me, and worse. And the worst part is that I couldn't even blame them. So, I suppose I don't mind what happens to me... I don't even know what it is that we're meant to do, or what we can hope to accomplish, but if I can somehow make things better, make it meaningful for someone," (this with a sideways look to Faustinia), "then all least some good will have come of my life, won't it?"
"And how do you propose we restore Westcrown back to its former glory. Surely you can't be suggesting some sort of violent overthrow of the established rulers, are you?"
Janiven calmly listens to Lorenzo as the man expresses his concerns. She looks him in the eye for a few moments, almost as though she was studying him. Then, she shakes her head and answers with a calm voice. "Of course not, Lorenzo. Violence has brought us here. This city needs no more violence. The beast haunting our nights and the Hellknights patrolling the streets are more than enough. We think about something much...subtler. We don't want to oppose the governemnt, to stain the streets of our city with the blood of his children. We just want to earn the trust of our fellow citizens. To let them know that there's someone in their city who cares for them. We want to earn the esteem of our brothers and sisters. Nothing more. This city really needs someone to set a good example. And we think that you could help us. All of you"
"The established rulers are not necessarily justly appointed, simply because they are established, young man. It was barely over a century ago that House Xerysis held significant sway here--a pittance of time against the long arm of history. And so it was not so long ago that your family led the people as well, Sir Mancini," she reminds the noble mason. "As Janiven says, we will need to gather allies. There is power in alliance and respect, and in having the ability to defend the people to earn their allegiance. That said, violence is not out of the question. But let's save that discussion--there's no need for a second civil war quite yet. Janiven, I don't know what you have planned, but I offer my service to your cause. I have lived long enough like a dog under Thrune, that even martyrdom seems preferable. Of course," she adds with a smile, "Hopefully that particular sacrifice will not be necessary."
Janiven nods kindly to Lady Faustinia as the woman expresses her agreement with several points of her speech. She almost takes a sigh of relief upon seeing that the noble woman shares so many points with her.
Janiven then listens to Lady Faustinia very attentively, before replying to her directly. "This city doesn't need a second Civil War, you're right Lady Faustinia. And we are honored to have you among our ranks, to accept your service to our cause. Hopefully, this won't turn into a martyrdom at all. There are people much wiser than me that are working on this."
"I would like to join," she says in a small voice. "I don't know how I could gather allies and such, but if I can...
Janiven smiles brightly at Catina and caresses her on the cheek as a mother would. Her smile is sweet and caring. "And we're very glad to have you, Catina. You have potential. Of that I'm sure. He's not easily impressed, but you somehow managed to strike the right chord. You're an acolyte at the Temple of Shelyn, aren't you? Tell me, Catina, do you believe in Shelyn with all of your heart? Do you believe that there's something beautiful in this world, in this country, in this city? And do you think it is worth fighting for? I firmly believe that there's still beauty in Westcrown. I can see it in your hopeful eyes. In Lady Faustinia's proud gaze. In Lorenzo's modesty. And in Sev's simplicity.
He paused for a second, "I have two young sisters that depend on me. There's Oleg and the job at the Tilernos. I have to go to work tomorrow."
He looked about, "I would like to help, truly I would but I think others may be better suited for this than me. I'm... not sure how I can help even I wanted to."
Janiven takes a long look at Lorenzo. She takes a deep breath, then tries to answer to his concerns. "You're right, Lorenzo. No one here wants to force you to join us. We just want to fight for our city, our families. And your sisters, well they're part of the city. Do you prefer to see them grow up in a place like this? With shadows forcing them to stay at home after sunset, living in a crumbling city no one cares for, constantly looked after by Inquisitors, Hellknights and corrupted Dottari? I know, I know it's hard to face it, but Westcrown is only a pale shadow in comparison to its former glory. This is the place where Iomedae was born. This is the place where Aroden should have returned. Do you believe that the Inheritor would have fought to improve this place? Do you think it's worth? This is your choice, Lorenzo. You're free to go now, open that door and leave forever, and pretend you never met us. We wouldn't try to kill you to make sure you don't betray us, because your blood is the blood of Westcrown. We're sure you can help. There's strenght in you, in your legacy, in your faith, much more than you can realize right now. We can see it even though no one else does, even yourself. But we believe in you. We're sure that you could improve this city. But it depends on you. The choice is yours."
"Are...are you really willing to risk death for this? Are things really so bad out here that you need to rebel?" What did I get myself in to!?
"And what kind of changes do you want to make?"
Janiven then focuses her attention on Sev, smiling kindly at the halfling. "We don't want to rebel against anyone or anything, Sev", says Janiven as she sits again, this time next to the halfling. "As Lady Faustinia said before, this city cannot afford a second Civil War. And we don't want to cause the death of anyone. We just want to inspire our citizens. To show them that a better world is possible. We want to help the Wiscrani to get their nights back from the shadows. We want people to be free to choose what deity they worship, to speak openly about their opinions. Change, to be effective, must always be gradual. People don't like abrupt changes, Cheliaxans least of all. But we would like to work in order to improve the city where we were born, to protect and ispire the ones we love.!