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"A pleasure to meet you Mr Aceron, and you Miss Vikta. I hope you'll stay long enough to finish your wine and hear us out at least. On a similar note I have aired some bedrooms upstairs. If anyone lives on the far side of the Bleakbridge you are welcome to stay here tonight, no sense risking the curfew.
As I am already hosting you I may as well speak plainly. Yes, it was the talk of fire and roses that lead me to invite you all here. You are quite right Phineas, I do not believe that this is the end of our new Mayor's plans. I have already heard whisperings of further decree's and I expect that at some point soon Thrune will do something nasty enough to provoke open public ire.
The question is what will we, as responsible citizens, do about it?"
Isabel stops talking and smiles across the room to Galen. "Please sir, do not be so alarmed. I am certain I speak for all of us when I say we mean you no harm. Is your name truly Zephyrus or may we have the honour of your real name?"
"True, things seem to be bleak," Darian says. He takes a sip of wine, and adds, "But, is this not the way of things, they ebb and flow like a river, sometimes there is a waterfall, others a nice and gentle current. Give it time, it will surely pass."
Avrora scoffs. "When has this city ever enjoyed a "nice and gentle current"? Perhaps it's easy for you to think that way, living in your lordly manor, enjoying fine brandy and expensive parties. But such luxuries come at a price, Lord Aulamaxa."
She thinks of her father's work, foreclosing on the mortgaged homes of honest laborers when they couldn't repay the exorbitant interest rates. "Believe me, I have enjoyed such comforts myself. But I have also seen the truth. This gentle current you speak of is tainted; polluted by the tears and blood of the city's population."
"Yes, it was the talk of fire and roses that lead me to invite you all here. You are quite right Phineas, I do not believe that this is the end of our new Mayor's plans. I have already heard whisperings of further decree's and I expect that at some point soon Thrune will do something nasty enough to provoke open public ire.
The question is what will we, as responsible citizens, do about it?"
"And it seems Thrune has no intention of cleansing the waters. If what Isabel says is true, they will only become a darker shade of crimson."
Varian smiles at Avrora as the girl draws closer. "Well met, Miss Avrora", says Varian bowing elegantly. Avrora, just like anyone else paying attention to the conversation, can easily notice that Varian's way of talking, attitudes and even accent has changed if compared to those previously shown in The Tooth and Nail: Varian seems much more elegant now, is voice is much more deep and expressive, and his gesturing and far more confident and fascinating. Without his scholarly robe, he also reveals himself as a handsome man, with manly and distinctive cheliaxian features.
"For you, milady", Varian whispers as he charmingly produces a red rose to Avrora from underneath his vest. Immediately after, he takes a glass vase from the table where he had left it to hug his cousin and hands it to the girl: "A rose needs to be regularly tended to grow strong and beautiful. See, like this", says the man as he pours a glass of water into the vase. "As I told you before, milady, every rose needs to be poured with water sometimes", and you especially, Avrora, unless you want your flames to devour you from within. He smiles gallantly and hands the vase containing the rose to Avora.
Immediately after, Varian's attention is catched by Isabel's speech. He takes a deep breath in response, and after having waited for the other to introduce themselves, he steps forward, bowing elegantly to the lady of the house. "First off, thank you for your invitation Miss Rhelian. My name is Julius Vindex, and I'm an arcane scholar. Your house is beatiful almost as her lady", says Varian with a smile. "And I'm very glad to see both Mr. Phineas and Mr. Zephyrus here as well".
After introducing himself, Varian lets the others speak, taking advantage of the situation to study them and spot any possible spy among them before revealing his real identity or, worse, his opinions about the current facts.
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Immediately after, Varian's attention is caaught by Isabel's speech. He takes a deep breath in response, and after having waited for the other to introduce themselves, he steps forward, bowing elegantly to the lady of the house. "First off, thank you for your invitation Miss Rhelian. My name is Julius Vindex, and I'm an arcane scholar. Your house is beatiful almost as her lady", says Varian with a smile. "And I'm very glad to see both Mr. Phineas and Mr. Zephyrus here as well".
After introducing himself, Varian lets the others speak, taking advantage of the situation to study them and spot any possible spy among them before revealing his real identity or, worse, his opinions about the current facts.
Isabel's face shows an apparent combination of disbelief and disapproval at 'Julius' antics until he addresses her directly.
She smiles in response to his introduction. If this one is a scholar he's one from a very well off family.... Isabel tries to compose her face while mentally running through her list of noble families and who would have the resources to keep a scholar like the man before her in the state to which he is clearly accustomed.
A rose needs to be regularly tended to grow strong and beautiful. See, like this", says the man as he pours a glass of water into the vase. "As I told you before, milady, every rose needs to be poured with water sometimes"
Given the secrecy of the meeting, and the dangerous topic of discussion, Avrora isn't sure if this is this is meant to be a compliment, or a threat of death by drowning.
Still, the man seems trustworthy, and that tattoo. Her instincts tell her to stay and, for the moment, she decides to heed them.
"Indeed. This city needs more roses," she says. "Were the soil of Kintargo anything more than a bed of rocks and nails." She shoots a look to Darian.
"My pardons, Mistress Vikta, but I would have to agree with High Master Aulamaxa there about this so-called threat that you speak of." Galen looks fairly uncomfortable as he coughs and looks to others in the room, but he does press forward now that he's up and spoken. "I've been here now a full hands-span of years, and I've seen both the Dottari watch-captains and the occasional 'mighty lord' of the various Orders of the Cheliaxian Empire come to call on Kintargo, looking to bring the loud-folk under heel. Mostly they make a big bluster of it and then go on to more profitable ventures...'ebb and flow' as the High Master speaks, like the tides. Why should this be any different? Because the new lord-mayor's name is Thrune?"
Galen looks to his host then, giving her a gracious nod and hoists his wine glass in appreciation. "My apologies, Mistress Rhelian. You keep a very fine house indeed, though I'm not accustomed to such finery. Zephyrus is my performing name as a storyteller, but I go by Galen to those that know me...my surname is Varisian but translates closely to 'Mistbringer' in the Taldane commonspeech."
Varian looks around himself, restless. The conversation is slowly sliding to more mundane topics. He needed to catch their attention. To draw them out. To break the ice. There's no other way. Stop lying. If there's a spy among us, I'll just say that I was trying to draw the traitors out. Don't know if that would work, but I need to act, otherwise we'll spend the whole night talking about useless topics, paralyzed by fear. I must risk. For my country, for my city, for Kintargo.
He approaches Isabel in private and whispers: "My lady, could you please make sure that no one except from us is here? I mean, I don't want your servant nor anyone else to hear what I'll say next. It won't be safe for her. Please, trust me."
"Eh-Ehm...", Varian loudly clears his throat to make sure to have everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry. Yes, you heard right-I'm sorry. Sorry for lying to you. And sorry because what I'm going to tell you now will put all of your lives in danger...So please, if you don't want to risk, leave now, or ask me to stop talking. I'm sure you already know what I'm going to say."
If no one stops him, Varian ensues with a grin: "Again, I'm sorry. My real name is Varian Tanessen, and I'm no arcane scholar...I'm a freedom fighter." Well, this is it. Let's just hope for the best. Come on, Varian. "I know that everyone in this rooms do not think that what House Thrune has just done to our city is fair. I know, I can see it in your eyes, that you can feel that our city is suffering, just like me. Just take a look outside, gaze upon the bridge and the crowd trying to get past the curfew. Think to our glorious Opera House, symbol of kintargan culture for centuries. Think to the Victocora estate. To the Silver Star. To the Thrashing Badger. Think to those proclamations, each one a nail in our freedom's coffin. Can't you feel the pain of our city? Kintargo is bleeding my friends, but those wounds won't heal on their own. Kintargo needs his people. Kintargo needs everyone willing to fight for it. The city needs us. We need to force them to hear our voice. They have to her the sound of our screams. They cannot continue to destroy our city, undermine our freedom, taking away everything from us without even asking. They don't have the right to. We are Kintargans, and our history is a story of freedom and indipendence. They have tried to burn it down, to alter it, to manipulate it, but they cannot burn down our souls, at least until we stand together. We must protest, my friend. We must oppose this government! We cannot stay here and watch our city die without doing absolutely nothing. This city has fed us, has made us who we are now. And this is the way we pay her back? Standing motionless while someone who just doesn't care burn her down? No, we can't. I won't be fair. We need to stand against them, to let them hear our voice. Who's with me?
Varian has tried his best to ignite the souls of the bystanders, hoping that would draw them out. After his long speech has ended, he swallows, his hands imperceptibly shaking for the tension.
"My pardons, Mistress Vikta, but I would have to agree with High Master Aulamaxa there about this so-called threat that you speak of. I've been here now a full hands-span of years, and I've seen both the Dottari watch-captains and the occasional 'mighty lord' of the various Orders of the Cheliaxian Empire come to call on Kintargo, looking to bring the loud-folk under heel. Mostly they make a big bluster of it and then go on to more profitable ventures...'ebb and flow' as the High Master speaks, like the tides. Why should this be any different? Because the new lord-mayor's name is Thrune?"
Awesome things.
Amazing! she thinks, as Varian gives his speech.
Smiling, Avrora gently places the fine glass vase onto the nearby table. She grasps the long-stemmed rose between its sharp, jagged thorns and draws it free. Bringing it to her face, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply, savoring the rich fragrance.
She tosses the flower onto the floor before her, into the middle of the group. Keeping her eyes down toward it, she speaks, softly.
"I know little and less of Barzillai Thrune, Master Galen, or of Jilia Bainilus, or whoever came before. They are but names to me, as distant and meaningless as clouds on the horizon."
She raises her eyes, looking from face to face.
"But I do know this: Juli, er Varian is correct. Something is terribly wrong with this city. It is broken, and it is bleeding. I see a city stifled by its degration, a city that chokes on its own excess. It cries out in anguish, but its pleas are buried beneath antiquated notions of tradition and the complacency of its population. Surely, some of you have heard them, too?"
"And those clouds on the horizon, they do trouble me, for today they may be docile and innocuous. But a storm can brew as fast as the wind travels. It bides its time, building, plotting, until it strikes down with the force of a hurricane. With these new proclamations, there... I sense a silence in the city. The people are too eager to follow the rule of law, and there are too many things left unsaid."
She crosses to where Varian stands, placing her arm on his shoulder.
"We all know what is said of silence and storms."
Leaning in toward the scholar, she whispers in his ear. "Varian, is it? Well, it's quite a pleasure to make your acquaintance all over again."
Phineas smiles, a smile that grows as Varian speaks.
I was RIGHT! He is a member of the Silver Ravens, he must be! Oh, and he puts it so well!
"That was well spoken Varian. I could not agree more strongly. For some time now I have felt the same, and have been quietly gathering as much information regarding the church of Asmodeus, the dottari and the Silver Ravens as I have been able."
"This recent madness from Barzillai Thrune has pushed me towards action, which is why I accepted this meeting, despite the readily apparent risks."
"Varian, you say you are a freedom fighter. As I am certain you are aware after our time together in the Tooth and Nail, I have been looking to make contact with a member of the Silver Ravens to offer my services. I am not a warrior, but I do possess certain skills of some merit. Am I correct that you are a member of the Ravens, and were at the Tooth and Nail seeking individuals sympathetic to your cause?"
Galen sits there on his plush seat and takes another sip of the extraordinary Cheliaxian wine he has never tasted before, patiently smiling and nodding absently at the latest revelations in the parlor. HA! Oh I KNEW he wasn't a typical scholar by his bearing and mannerisms! An Aulamaxa scion is one thing...but now a Tanessen too? Now I see the connection between the two from before...and this Phineas seeking vengeance and this sharp-tongued exiled firebrand from...House?...Vikta? Hmm, don't know that one. Is Rhelian a noble house too? Are they ALL parented from The Greens or the Wedge? What brought them all to the likes of the Tooth earlier? And what is all this about proclamations...the curfew and the bridge tax yes, but what else is he going on about? Enforcement of the prohibition of silver blanch?
"Yes, yes...um...very inspiring...very good call to action..." Galen trails off in trying to find words to add to the apparent shared agreement of Varian's seditious speech which is going to get them all into real trouble. Somewhere in his mind he knows he shouldn't, but the Varisian in him cannot resist the clever quip. "Though I cannot help but be reminded of the account of the battle herald Antarus in the Lament of the Red Shard, rejoicing in their beloved Red Crusader's defiant words at the First Siege of the Gallowspire in the Shining Crusade. That was a good speech too, or so Sir Antarus describes it as such."
"I have already heard whisperings of further decree's and I expect that at some point soon Thrune will do something nasty enough to provoke open public ire.
The question is what will we, as responsible citizens, do about it?"
"We take a breath and not jump to conclusions, that is what I would suggest," Darian says with a smile.
At Avrora's rebuttal, Darian says nothing, just takes another sip of wine. A typical response towards a noble house. Why am I not surprised.
"My pardons, Mistress Vikta, but I would have to agree with High Master Aulamaxa there about this so-called threat that you speak of." Galen looks fairly uncomfortable as he coughs and looks to others in the room, but he does press forward now that he's up and spoken. "I've been here now a full hands-span of years, and I've seen both the Dottari watch-captains and the occasional 'mighty lord' of the various Orders of the Cheliaxian Empire come to call on Kintargo, looking to bring the loud-folk under heel. Mostly they make a big bluster of it and then go on to more profitable ventures...'ebb and flow' as the High Master speaks, like the tides. Why should this be any different? Because the new lord-mayor's name is Thrune?"
Darian raises his wine glass to Galen, "I'm glad to see another level head among us!"
And then Varian begins to speak. At his warning, Darian considered interrupting his cousin to keep him from saying something he would regret...but the words did not come fast enough. As Varian spoke, Darian visibly grows pale as his cousin's treasonous words flow like water from a spout. The words send Darian reeling, and he misses much of what is said next.
So THAT is why he has been in hiding, pretending to have died. I know his family are open supporters of House Thrune, but is that enough to have warranted this?
"Varian? For the sake of the gods man, what are you thinking? Is this what you've been doing all this time, what you've been up to? Why you've let us all think you dead, let us mourn your passing? Pull yourself together man! Surely you realize that these decrees he has made aren't all that bad. I am certain, once things settle in, Barzillai will relax and reconsider things, but not if you go around trying to start riots!"
Varian...why does that name sound familiar?
Phineas' face twists in a wry smile as Darian registers his disapproval.
"I do think that perhaps a riot may not be the best way to start."
Phineas gestures at Galen with his wine glass.
"Galen has a point as well; I don't recognize the reference, but I assume that the Red Crusader did not meet a pleasant end, yes? A more subtle opposition may be in order if we do not wish to meet a similar fate. I would be most interested in hearing what, specifically, you propose Varian."
"Well said Avrora!", says Varian while looking at the girl with an expression of approval.
"Varian, you say you are a freedom fighter. As I am certain you are aware after our time together in the Tooth and Nail, I have been looking to make contact with a member of the Silver Ravens to offer my services. I am not a warrior, but I do possess certain skills of some merit. Am I correct that you are a member of the Ravens, and were at the Tooth and Nail seeking individuals sympathetic to your cause?"
Varian smiles at Phineas, but shakes his head when the man mentions the Silver Ravens: "From what I know, they're long vanished. I'm no Silver Raven, unfortunately. But I'm part of a group trying to improve this city. So, yes, that was the reason why I was at the Tooth and Nail my friend."
"Varian? For the sake of the gods man, what are you thinking? Is this what you've been doing all this time, what you've been up to? Why you've let us all think you dead, let us mourn your passing? Pull yourself together man! Surely you realize that these decrees he has made aren't all that bad. I am certain, once things settle in, Barzillai will relax and reconsider things, but not if you go around trying to start riots!"
Varian stares at his cousin with a resolute expression on his face: "I never mentioned a riot. And no, my dear cousin, I cannot see any good in those decrees. Would you like me to remind you the fourth proclamation? The right to wear fine embroidered clothing in public is hereafter proscribed to anyone other than agents of House Thrune or the Holy Church of Asmodeus. Exceptions can be awarded or purchased at the city’s discretion. What's the point of telling us how should we dress? What do they have more than us granting them the right to wear embroided clothing in public? All of those decrees are subtle hints. They want to control us, Darian. Today they tell us how to dress, what to drink, when to come back home. What they will demand tomorrow? Where's our freedom?"
"Galen has a point as well; I don't recognize the reference, but I assume that the Red Crusader did not meet a pleasant end, yes? A more subtle opposition may be in order if we do not wish to meet a similar fate. I would be most interested in hearing what, specifically, you propose Varian."
Varian nods to Phineas. His voice is imperious. "I propose we protest. No violence, no bloodshed. Even the Dottari are blood of Kintargo. I'm not encouraging riot. I just want the new Lord-Mayor to hear our voice. We must let the government know our displeasure about the martial law."
Galen looks over to Phineas and nods appreciatively, but otherwise than an agreeing nod to Darian he mostly stays quiet. His eyes seem a bit startled for a moment when Varian speaks of proclamations he has never heard of, mulling them over in his mind with the twenty or thirty other rumors he heard today and tonight while out and about in various parts of the city, trying to decide what is truth and what is false gossip.
Taking another sip of his wine, he glances to no one in particular and murmurs, "I like roses..."
Varian smiles at Phineas, but shakes his head when the man mentions the Silver Ravens: "From what I know, they're long vanished. I'm no Silver Raven, unfortunately. But I'm part of a group trying to improve this city. So, yes, that was the reason why I was at the Tooth and Nail my friend."
Phineas frowns slightly as Varian pops a hole in his theory.
Huh. And I was so sure he was one of them. A separate group, however? That does make some of the information I gathered fit. The other clues, however....the Silver Ravens may still be active as well.
"Intriguing. I have been gathering information with regards to the Silver Ravens for some time now, and I have cause to believe they do still exist, although in what capacity I cannot say. Still, if your group seeks to oppose Thrune, I am willing to lend what assistance I can."
"I propose we protest. No violence, no bloodshed. Even the Dottari are blood of Kintargo. I'm not encouraging riot. I just want the new Lord-Mayor to hear our voice. We must let the government know our displeasure about the martial law."
Phineas strokes his chin thoughtfully.
"A protest...it would be worth doing. I do not know if it could sway Barzillai, but it creates opposition without undue danger. I would be willing to attend such an event, although I would go as Davis the Merchant, the persona I have cultivated for such endeavors."
"Hearsay and rumors, Varian! No such proclamations have been declared! And if you want your voice to be heard, you should do it through proper channels. Let the Council of Coin know, and they will voice the concerns to Barzillai properly."
As the conversation continues, he turns to Phineas, "Yes, a protest sounds all nice and proper, but that generally involves getting a large number of people together at once, correct? And more often than not, large groups of people have a greater chance of doing something stupid, thanks to the anonymity being in a large crowd can offer. All it would take to start a riot is for some hot-head to do something rash, and things could easily get out of hand, and someone could get hurt...or worse."
"So what are you suggesting, cousin? To just stand here and watch?", says Varian in a heated tone.
Darian throws up his hands, "We give it time! Let things settle down. Rash decisions lead to rash actions, which can lead to even more unfortunate actions. You may not have any connection with your family anymore, Varian, but I am still very close to mine. And I do not have any intention on doing anything that could lead to my family getting hurt."
Varian shakes his head, furious. His raging features stares at his cousion for a few seconds, with his fists clenched. Then, suddenly, his face relaxes and a smile shows up on it. "I see, Darian. I'm sorry. Maybe I just got carried away. We should give it time. You've always been the wisest of us, and I trust your judgement. We're different: you don't trust the people, you think they could do something stupid. I think that, if properly led, our people are not stupid at all. But I can undestand your concerns. So, for the time being, I'll give up on doing something stupid myself. I hope things would get better as they settle down. I pray that you're right, cousin."
A bit despondent, Varian looks around himself. I've been stupid. This city is not ready yet. Darian is right. Why should he risk to endanger his family? I would hesitate too. And I don't know if I would sacrifice Celissa in the name of Kintargo...Maybe I would, but still...I don't know. It's just too hard to think to such things. Guess I should go home. Time will tell if Darian is right. I pray he is.
Darian lets out a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear it, Varian."
He stands and bows to Isabel, "M'lady, it's been a rather long day, and an interesting evening, to say the least, but I feel it would be best if we retired before things grow too late and the Dottari start asking too many questions of those still out and about."
He looks to Varian, adding "Do you need a place to stay the night, cousin? I'm certain my mother would be ecstatic to learn that you are in fact alive."
"Hearsay and rumors, Varian! No such proclamations have been declared! And if you want your voice to be heard, you should do it through proper channels. Let the Council of Coin know, and they will voice the concerns to Barzillai properly."
As the conversation continues, he turns to Phineas, "Yes, a protest sounds all nice and proper, but that generally involves getting a large number of people together at once, correct? And more often than not, large groups of people have a greater chance of doing something stupid, thanks to the anonymity being in a large crowd can offer. All it would take to start a riot is for some hot-head to do something rash, and things could easily get out of hand, and someone could get hurt...or worse."
Phineas tilts his head slightly to the side, thinking through what Darian has said.
Maybe...the council of coin could perhaps do more than any street protest. Could it be done?
"Is there a chance the council of coin will take up these issues with Barzillai? You would have a much clearer idea of how they would respond that the rest of us, Darian. I fear that they may choose to do nothing to avoid following in the footsteps of the Victocoras. That fire was clearly no accident, and likely designed to send a message to the nobility that Thrune will not suffer interference from the noble houses."
"Truthfully, these fires concern me most of all. The proclamations and restrictions will greatly damage the city's spirit and prosperity, but burning a noble house and the abode of one of the most famous opera performers in the city? That is beyond the pale. Unless you believe that these fires are not the work of the new lord mayor?"
I have no doubts myself, but perhaps he does. Darian clearly knew the Victocora's well; perhaps their fate will spur him to action where petty restrictions and taxes fail.
Varian smiles at his cousin: "I'm sorry, but I have to decline the kind offer cousin. Should your mother learn that I'm alive, she would be in danger. Please, if you love her, do not say anything about our meeting. My parents, they have been searching me for years. They wanted me to become an Asmodean priest. They didn't care at all for what I wanted. My mother...She was the only one who tried to protect me when I was younger. I miss her so much...But I don't want to endanger her. Varian Tanessen is better off dead..." Even though very difficult to catch, there's a slight sorrow in Varian's words.
Looking at Isabel, Varian takes a deep breath and says: "I must echo Darian's words, Miss Rhelian. It has been a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for your hospitality and I beg your forgiveness if my words have somehow upset the peace of your home. I'm sure we will see each other again, milady", concludes Varian with a kind bow.
He reaches for his scholarly robes and greets the others. His face is clearly a bit sad, as though his impetus had been stopped too soon and he was regretting to have spoken at all: "I hope I can see each of you again anytime soon. It was a pleasure to meet such open minded and cultured individuals." Varian bows again, wears his robes and exits. I've failed to recruit new members, but I've made new, interesting acquaintances. I'll ask Alazario about what to do...Phineas and Avrora sound just like perfect members for our group.
"Right, of course. Clearly you're all still very attached to your fine clothes and comfortable beds. So much so that you're unable to muster a thought that extends beyond the confines of this..." She gestures. "This prison!"
"Well, I hope when the storm breaks you are no longer immobilized be your fear, because when that day comes you will have to make choices, some very difficult choices. And for your sakes, I hope you come down on the right side."
She turns to Varian. "And you. I believed you. I believed in you. But you're no better than the rest of them, are you?"
Striding toward the foyer, she calls to no one in particular, "Thank you for the hospitality, but I have my own affairs to tend to. I wish you good night."
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Darian lets out a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear it, Varian."
He stands and bows to Isabel, "M'lady, it's been a rather long day, and an interesting evening, to say the least, but I feel it would be best if we retired before things grow too late and the Dottari start asking too many questions of those still out and about."
He looks to Varian, adding "Do you need a place to stay the night, cousin? I'm certain my mother would be ecstatic to learn that you are in fact alive."
I was right! Isabel feels quietly vindicated by her suspicions, even as she kicks herself for not connecting Julius to the lost Tanessen.
"You are quite right Lord Aulamaxa, it has been a long day. I trust you will be able to return safely, the Dottari remain vigilant in this neighborhood so you should be able to avoid any dangers."
She turns to Varian. "Before you all leave I must speak my own piece. You have not upset the peace of my house Varian, indeed I believe you have a good point. Thrune's rule has not been good for the city. I personally have no doubt that these fires are his work. The only thing that has changed in our city is his arrival and then there are suddenly fires, destroying popular meeting places and a noble family known for unorthodox leanings? It cannot be a coincidence.
As to the court of coin Lord Aulamaxa I have my doubts. We both know how the court is bogged down in petty squabbling and one-upmanship. Unless one house could command the loyalty of the whole court then nothing will happen and as long as Delronge, Sarini and Tanessen hold to their infernal love of Thrune then the court will remain stifled."
Isabel takes a deep breath and straightens her back, trying to steel herself for a very dangerous idea.
"I believe that those of us who are willing must seriously consider active resistance against Thrune. Note please that I am not advocating rioting or demonstrations on the street. Lord Aulamaxa is right in this regard - I believe we need political and social power, that is where a rebellion against Thrune has the greatest chance of success and minimal bloodshed. The Silver Ravens have, as far as I know, been dead for these many years - but perhaps that gives suitably bold citizens an advantage, and maybe even a name."
As the others begin to make their farewells Isabel recalls her duties as a host. "Please lady and gentlemen do feel free to remain her for the night. I have more than enough room and only the one servant. You can rest here safely for the night rather than risking the night and Bleakbridge. Lady Vikta and you Varian in particular please stay. I don't want to send anyone away who does not have a place nearby to stay."
Isabel does not stop anyone who actually leaves but does indicate her desire to speak to both Galen and Darian before they leave.
Darian shrugs, "It's truly hard to say. There are those who are loyal to House Thrune among the council. But it is still a bit rash to assume that Barzillai had anything to do with those fires, despite rumor and timing saying otherwise. It could have just as easily been the work of some arsonists, as you suggest."
He then bows once more to Isabel, "M'lady, again thank you for the hospitality. And for the rest of you, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Lady Vikta, I pray a good night's rest shall aid in comforting your temper."
He looks to Varian and adds, "If you wish to remain hidden for the night, then, I suggest you take up Lady Rhelian on her offer. If you were to be apprehended by the Dottari, they may not manage to keep their tongues quiet in regards to your identity, should they learn it."
Galen stands as first Varian and then Avora make their way out of Isabel Rhelian's domicile. "Good night to you Learned Master..." I suppose even if that is true...nobles and their schemes honestly... "...ahh night to you Mistress..." Firebrand! of the...Everbloom? Phah - definitely not of The Eternal Rose with that attitude...I guess forced exile would explain much... He peers around first to Darian, then to Phineas and finally to Isabel, still smiling a forced smile and looking decidedly uncomfortable.
My dear Lady Shensen and the fire...that cannot have been to try and harm her or root her out by the new mayor! Could it? Just to take the Opera House? No. A fire at the Badger was long overdue...foul place from everything I've heard and how they treated students from Villegre...Dany always said to avoid that place...hopefully no one was hurt thought...but the Victocora House too? If it IS a plot, why though suspect those that pride themselves on upholding their own iron laws in their own land? These fires sound more like something those shadowy skulkers of Nidal would do to cause havoc and relish in people's pain...
Once Varian leaves, Avrora at his heels, Darian turns to those that remain.
"I trust you all understand the delicacy of the situation my cousin has placed himself in. Seeing as this is the only group that knows of his true identity, I would like some assurances from each of you that it will remain a secret. Miss Rhelian here I can take on her word, but Mr. Mistbringer, Mr. Aceron, no offense but I have just met you both. And unlike my high-spirited cousin, I do not put trust in people I have just met. So convince me."
Darian folds his arms in front of him, standing between the sitting room and the front door, awaiting their reply.
The bold words and stance of Darian Aulamaxa snaps Galen out of his distracted mulling over of the events this day brought to Kintargo. He carefully sets the fine glass down on the table near where he sits, and now stands himself. Far from looking like any sort of threat, the young Varisian commoner looks more like a deer ready to bound back into the forest. Galen's tone is calm however, with a slight note of sarcasm.
"I see. Well perhaps Master Aceron here can start off by using the high knowledge of his profession and write you up a binding contract." He looks around once more at the finery of the home of Isabel Rhelian, and says pointedly to her, "It is a very fine home you keep, Mistress Rhelian. Tell me, do you still keep to the Old Taldane tradition of the hospitium? You know, the one about the duties and rights of hospitality between hosts and guests, particularly for those that were invited? It's an old tradition I'll grant you..."
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Once Varian leaves, Avrora at his heels, Darian turns to those that remain.
"I trust you all understand the delicacy of the situation my cousin has placed himself in. Seeing as this is the only group that knows of his true identity, I would like some assurances from each of you that it will remain a secret. Miss Rhelian here I can take on her word, but Mr. Mistbringer, Mr. Aceron, no offense but I have just met you both. And unlike my high-spirited cousin, I do not put trust in people I have just met. So convince me."
Darian folds his arms in front of him, standing between the sitting room and the front door, awaiting their reply.
Isabel nods to Galen after his speech. "No, Mr Mistbringer I do keep to a similar tradition."
She turns to Darian with a scowl on her face. "Lord Aulamaxa! While I can believe that your motivation for this little speech is familial concern you are hardly in a position to make such demands in my house. You may be heir to House Aulamaxa but you will still be polite to my guests under my roof.”
Darian bows his head towards Isabel. "I mean no offense, m'Lady, but I have already mourned his death once. I have no intention of doing so again, if I can help it. I respect that this is your home and we are your guests, but the fact remains, I would appreciate some sort of guarantee for Varian's safety. And no, Mr. Mistbringer, a contract would not suffice. The last thing he needs is written evidence of his existence."
"Yes of course," answers Galen with a stance that is slightly more relaxed now, looking over to Phineas sheepishly and adding, "I mean I didn't mean the contract jibe as a serious undertaking...a jest in bad taste I admit, under the circumstances. Um...apologies..."
Phineas gives Darian a small, wry smile.
"My lord, the last thing I wish is to do Varian harm. I fully understand the implications of having his identity revealed. If you may recall, he was not the only one who came to this meeting under a disguise and a false name. Nor was he the first to discuss seditious sentiment, although he was the first to be so openly bold in his statements. I too am somewhat at your mercy, and at the mercy of all present. I hope I can count on your discretion in this matter?"
Phineas will turn and half bow to Isabel.
"Lady Rhelian, thank you for your kind offer, and for your hospitality in holding this meeting. I would be honored to be your guest tonight. I believe I could safely make my way home through the guard, but there is no sense in tempting fate."
With a sigh he collects himself and sits back down again, regarding Darian quizzically. He takes a breath and seems to center himself, more confident than a moment before, less boyish. "So then, I am to convince you as to my intentions where it concerns your noble cousin. Well now, while I consider myself a Kintargan at heart I am not a Cheliaxian, but a Varisian by birth." He spreads his hands wide. "What could a Varisian spinner of yarns possibly say that would convince you of his true intentions? Your families are not my families and you have no clans to bind your promises to blood, no shared ancestors to swear oaths by." Galen looks at Darian as if judging him in return. "I care little for the Game of Houses by you Kintargo nobles and would avoid them whenever possible - I am only familiar of House Aulamaxa by their patronage of the Opera House - if you were of House Tanessen like your cousin or those Vashnarstill brothers from the Tooth and Nail earlier today, I wouldn't trust you to entreat with me fairly, deserving only of deception and lies to get myself out of this trouble. Why should I accede to this lethal game the nobles play at? But I will do as you ask and try to demonstrate my desire to not hinder your duplicitous cousin."
"I can only give you the truth of my own self - who I am and how I live and whom I pray to, so that when I say 'I will not reveal the secret of Varian Tanessen' I mean to keep it...and also that tonight of Isabel Rhelian, of Phineas Aceron and Avora Vikta, and you ser, Darian Aulamaxa. I will not reveal to anyone that I have meet with you tonight in secret - certainly not to the Dottari and not even to my lady love or those few I call friend...nor to the many I call acquaintance. But to bind this oath you need to know something of me. Let's see..."
"I am a Varisian by birth, an orphan raised only by my Nan - my paternal grandmother." Galen touches the scarf at his neck for emphasis. "Mistbringer in common, the kapenia my Nan weaved for me on my naming day, a true Varisian's family history weaved into it - I don't know if Varian was lying when he said he was a scholar, but he was correct about the kapenia and the colors I wear as having significance." Galen removes his hand from the scarf with a troubled look. "I am alone now, my Nan gone two years, the last of my once-proud family. Kintargo is my home now...before that my only 'home' were the roads and pathways of Varisia and elsewhere, which taught me my heritage."
He laughs then, a slight blush coming to his cheeks. "I have a lady love, one that I love dearly and she loves me! Her name is Danaeren Teslias - Dany for short - a philosopher and performer here in Villegre at the Alabaster. I was a student at the Alabaster for four years until my inheritance ran out, but it gave me the means to provide for myself. I scribe and translate texts for the scholars at reasonable fees, and am proud of my work. Otherwise, I perform and tell stories out of my love for them and how they make people feel. And I love the opera! How I love the opera...and am fond of the Lady Shensen and any of her performances, having seen as many as I can afford! I am an adherent to The Eternal Rose, to Shelyn, and practice her aphorisms in my storytelling - you may find me on occasional Oathdays at the Songbird Hall if you wish. I also adhere to the tenets to other gods - to Desna for my wild Varisian past, and to Irori for wisdom and enhancing my lore. I hold that trinity most dear, with the Rose above all, and try to live my life according to the tenets found in their holy books."
"All of this is to say, Darian Aulamaxa, that my common life is simple and earnest. I seek no gain of wealth, or power, or to debase myself through engaging in petty gossip, nor to trade in secrets that would harm others. It is not my way." Galen's smile is genuine now, not forced with a blank stare like before. He takes out three items from a belt pouch and places them upon the table: a silver coin that is not a shield, a pink-hued crystal that seems to glow faintly, and a deck of cards with Varisian runes upon them. "Three things that I keep with me and hold most dearly. The caught performance token of Lady Shensen after her performance. My Nan's crystal of old Varisian fortune-teller's magic, and also her old fortune telling deck from our nomadic caravan days. Upon these I swear not to reveal the secrets of Varian Tanessen or "Julian Vindex" as he masks himself as, nor will I speak anything about any of you here, not even to Dany or anyone else I know."
Scooping his precious objects back quickly into his hands and to his belt pouch, he inquires to Darian, "Will that be enough to satisfy you?"
Darian ponders Phineas' and Galen's words, before sighing and replying, "I suppose I shall have to trust you all. Miss Rhelian, my deepest apologies for causing a scene, but I take my family's safety very seriously. Good night, to each of you."
He then bows his head before turning and stepping out into the night.
Phineas sighs himself after Darian leaves, leaving him alone with Isabel and Galen.
"Well, that could have gone better, but also far worse. And with that, I think I shall retire. It is a pleasure meeting you, Galen. I hope that our talk this evening did not overly discomfit you. With luck, you and Darian will have the right of it, and all of this will be for naught."
Phineas gives Galen a warm smile.
"Perhaps, if the opera reopens, we could attend together at some time. It is one of my dearest loves as well, you see. I grew up surrounded by the opera in Egorian, but Kintargo has truly perfected the art."
Phineas turns to Isabel.
"My lady, would you be so kind as to show me to my chambers? It grows late, and I will wish to rise early to leave as soon as the curfew is raised."
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"Of course Mr Aceron, do you mind me calling you Phineas? We have rather blurred the lines of propriety this evening." She says with a grin. "If you will follow me gentlemen."
Isabel leads them both across the hall and up the staircase to a wide second floor corridor. "My rooms are here, opposite the staircase. The door at the far end of the hall leads to the servants stairs and the third floor. The main facilities are here" She gestures. "and we aired these rooms earlier. Please take your pick."
She opens four doors along the same side of the corridor, all the rooms are reasonably well spaced, comfortably furnished and tastefully decorated, favouring art pictures in bright colours and small, graceful sculptures.
"And so gentlemen, goodnight."
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As the participants of the meeting sojourn for the night in their respective quarters or leave for their own comfortable beds, the Devils Bells ominously ring once, twice, and then three times before allowing the silence of the night to finally take hold of the Silver City, heralding the end of an eventful, even fateful day.
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Seven days passed after the original appointment of Paracount Barzillai Thrune as Lord-Mayor of Kintargo. While there were those among the populace who felt this was a step in the right direction for the city, others shook their heads in worry and some further spoke treasonous whispers of rebellion.
As it so happened, things began to go downhill rather quickly. The first things to happen were the Seven Proclamations the following day of the installment of martial law. These laws were read aloud by the very same criers that announced Thrune’s arrival, and as the day wore on, they marched along the streets, always with a patrol of Dottari, repeating the Seven to all those would hear to ensure no one would be uninformed.
The first proclamation saw raised eyebrows from some, nods of approval for others - vermin were always a problem, and although doves, mice, and ravens weren’t usually seen as such, the poor of the city quickly began hunting said pests in droves before presenting them to the Dottari.
The second proclamation caused quite a few grumblings amongst more than one of the city’s businesses - although reasonably priced at a mere ten gold crowns apiece, many businesses rankled at showing Her Infernal Majestrix’s face in their shops. Those who ignored the proclamation were quickly fined, and in the case of more than one shop, saw their property seized and them hauled off to one of the quickly-filling prisons within the myriad of guard towers in the city.
It is a well-known fact that Barzillai loves dogs, particularly the larger breeds, and as a result the third proclamation came to little surprise. It is also a well known fact that Barzillai has invented a form of excruciation using said dogs aptly named ‘Dog Housing’. Although no such punishments have been met out during Barzillai’s first week of office, many whisper of things to come, especially if the Dottari keep collecting said dogs from the populace.
The fourth proclamation came as a severe annoyance to the city’s noble population, and to a lesser extent its performing one. Although many of the nobles easily purchased the right to keep wearing their expensive and extravagant clothing, many of the city’s performers had to make due with illusions or faux-jewelry to avoid being fined and having their clothing stripped from their very persons.
Unsurprisingly enough, the fifth proclamation merely caused a few eyebrows to raise in curiosity. Those who discussed it in coffee shops and parlors speculated it was to prevent a famine in case of a riot or uprising - as food shortages are common during such periods. Those in less well-to-do places such as the myriad of taverns around the city assumed it was just a way to kick the little guy even further - their logic being that the person who spilt the grain had already wasted his grain, yet now must spend the time to pick it up, clean it, or be fined and possibly imprisoned?
The sixth proclamation came about with a few small protests, as tea is a much beloved drink amongst the city - almost as much as coffee and alcohol. Being unable to consume such a drink at night limited made no sense!
The seventh proclamation was little more than a curiously discussed topic amongst most citizens, as it had nearly no effect on them. That being said, there are quite a few confectionary shops within the city, and those who offered mint candies and treats quickly either threw them away lest they get fined or - in most cases - offered out said candies free of charge to get rid of them before they got in trouble. Such was the case at the Sweet Tooth neighboring the Tooth and Nail, as its proprietor, a young, frail woman with an eyepatch named Luculla Gens, was a regular amongst the Tooth and Nail. Although her delicious candied blueberry tarts are the most well-loved in the tavern, her final batch of mint treats disappeared quickly amongst the drunk (and hungry) patrons.
Overall, for a city that prides itself on its diversity, creative spirit and artistry, the yoke of martial law and increasing rules and regulations particularly onerous. With Thrune’s inquisitors, the Dottari, and the growing Thrune-supporting militia known as the Chelish Citizens’ Group growing increasingly aggressive in their enforcement of martial law - and Barzillai’s increasingly ridiculous proclamations - the undercurrent of revolution builds within the city, and the atmosphere in Kintargo is tense. Numerous minor protests against Thrune have popped up, demanding a variety of changes, only to be quickly dispersed by the dottari, Hellknights of the Rack imported from the south, or the Chelish Citizens’ Group.
It’s been only a week since Thrune seized control of the city, and word on the street is that the largest protest yet will be gathering in Aria Park, just south of the Kintargo Opera House where Thrune has made his new home.
Book I: In Hell's Bright Shadow
Part 1: Fledglings of Silver
Even with the cobblestones of Argent Avenue and the foliage of Aria Park still wet from the morning’s light rain, dozens of Kintargans have gathered along the facade of the opera house to protest the city’s new lord-mayor, Paracount Barzillai Thrune. The city’s new leader was appointed by Her Infernal Majestrix, Queen Abrogail II, in the wake of the previous lord-mayor’s sudden flight from the city— an event that still has local rumormongers whispering furiously. In a scant seven days, Paracount Thrune has instituted martial law, a curfew, and seven outlandish and polarizing proclamations. These actions and more have called many of Kintargo’s dissatisfied citizens here on this overcast morn. There’s been no sign yet of Barzillai Thrune himself, and the opera house’s doors remain tightly closed—as they have since the man chose the landmark as his new home—but judging by the growing sound of the protesters, he surely can’t ignore the scene on the streets below much longer.
A dozen Dottari stand guard in front of the Opera House, warily watching the growing crowd but making no moves to disperse them - in the middle of them stands a gruff, scowling woman armed with an exquisite glaive, heavy black-and-red chain armor and sporting four throwing axes - Nox, Barzillai’s personal bodyguard. As of yet, she and her entourage of guards stand vigilant, their black-and-red leather and mail armor glistening with the morning’s rain, but none move against the growing crowd.
Some of the protesters call for their new lord-mayor to lift his unreasonable restrictions, while others call for an end to foreign rule and demand a proper election to determine Lord-Mayor Bainilus’s successor. Many seem content merely to yell and agitate, but a growing minority show their unabashed support of Barzillai Thrune by arguing back at the protesters.
As it so happens, six of the protestors had a meeting of their own just a week prior to talk about the new Lord-Mayor. These six quickly spot each other (or introduce themselves, for those in disguise), and greet each other like old comrades as the protest gets under way.
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the pilferer can attempt a Bluff check to play off the failed attempt at an innocent jostle.
The air outside the window is heavy and gray. It is thick with tension. Avrora rises from her knees, her prayers complete. She kisses her prayer book and wooden rose. She wraps them in a blanket and pushes them under her bed. Then she dons her armor and weaponry and leaves her room. Her destination: Aria Park.
Her boots scrape against the cobblestones as she skirts the crowd. Her hood is drawn low over her brow, rainwater dripping from the its hem.
She is pleased to see a good turn out for this protest, though she notes with disdain those in the crowd who proclaim their support for Thrune. The crowd is a cacophonous orchestra of jeers and shouts. If there were a unified message, it is lost on her.
Suddenly, amongst the sea of unknown faces, a familiar one appears.
This must be a joke.
She considers a moment, then strides confidently toward the familiar figure of Darian Aulamaxa.
"Greeting, my Lord," she says, greatly exaggerating the honorific. She gives a feigned bow. "What a coincidence to find you in Aria Park this beautiful morning. Were you about shopping for a new wardrobe? New curtains for the drawing room, perhaps? Or are you here as a spy of our new overlord, gathering information on the firebrands? I..."
She is about to say something else, but stumbles over her words as she sees the mild-mannered barrister from House Rhelian. Phineas. What the hells?
She quickly looks around, searching for signs of the others.
Hey, who are you? Oh, but it’s me…Look at it, Varian, look what you’ve become…
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Varian stared at his own reflection mirrored in a pool of murky water on the cobblestones. He was not the same person he had been since he had returned to his hometown. His beard had grown wild and prickly, concealing his manly features and bestowing a trump’s look on his face. His eyes were covered in tears. His hands were shaky. His lips were dry. And his mind, oh, his mind was the worst of those things: shattered, broken, humiliated.
He lied on the ground, bent over like an old dog. He lacked the strength to stand up. A man had bumped into him several minutes before, and he hadn’t been able to get back on his feet on his own. No one was willing to help, and the passersby looked down on him without anyone even attempting to aid him. The old Varian, the handsome, elegant and charismatic natural leader who had been gathering friends and admirers as a dragon amasses his hoard; well, those people wouldn’t had thought about what to do with him for a second…They would have helped him to get back on his feet. But he was not that person anymore. He was a miserable trump, neglected by his own city.
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“I believed you. I believed in you. But you’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”
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Those words had kept echoing through his head since the disaster. Since the moment when he lost everything, without even having the chance to fight to protect those he loved. He was wrecked. Broken. Bent.
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“I believed you. I believed in you. But you’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”
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What could I do? I was too late, I couldn’t even… he tried to protest to himself. But it was worthless. He couldn’t forgive himself for not being there in the time of need. Celissa…I’m sorry…Alazario… Tears kept spilling from his eyes, dropping in the murky water reflection of a sundered man. I’ve lost everything…Who am I? Why I keep fighting? I should let myself starve to the death, I…
A raven swooped down on him, pecking his head as he was still lying on the ground. Even him deems me dead…, he thought to himself, smiling bitterly. The cries of the poor children of Kintargo echoed through his mind. Was he dreaming or was it real? Due to the First Proclamation, the poor of the city had quickly begun hunting down ravens to earn a few coins from the Dottari. Someone fired a sling, and he felt the raven soaring. The small rock hit him on the head. He grunted. He could hear the disappointed sighs of the poor. He was one of them now. No, not even one of them. Even they would have preferred to keep him at arms length.
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“I believed you. I believed in you. But you’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”
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he shouted out in frustration.
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“I believed you. I believed in you. But you’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”
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he roared.
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“I believed you. I believed in you. But you’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”
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he protested furiously.
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“You’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”
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he shouted, his voice filled with rage. He felt his body gaining strength. He punched the pool of murky water as violently as he could. His miserable reflection trembled away in a triumph of splashes. They…They have taken everything away from me…And now…I will take everything back. Celissa, Alazario, everyone…I’m sorry for not being there in the time of need. I’m sorry for everything. But I cannot let your deaths be worthless. I will fight for you. I will stand for the only thing left. Kintargo. My city. My home. My family! He felt his birthmark burning, the strengths suddenly flowing back into him in an impetus of rage. “” he shouted. The passersby stopped to look at him, shocked. Now you look at me, eh? A madman is more interesting than a man who has lost everything, isn’t it? Well, I don’t care. I will fight for you too, for your mindset is the result of fear and terror and that’s not your fault.
Varian got up on his feet. He didn’t look at anyone, knowing what he would read on their faces: shame, dismay, blame. Not anymore!
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He had heard the news about the protest at Aria Park the last time he visited the Tooth and Nail. That was his occasion. Maybe I can meet again with Phineas, Avrora, Isabel, Darian and Galen?, he had though to himself. Now that was his better hope.
He made his way through the crowd gathered before the Opera House. He smelled of alcohol and his scholarly robes were stained and foul-smelling. His beard was prickly and untidy. But his eyes burned with the same flame as usual. He spotted Avrora. She was there.
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“I believed you. I believed in you. But you’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”
---
The words echoed through his mind again, but he fended them off with a shake of his head. He moved forward. In that very moment he saw his cousin too. Darian…So you’ve built up your courage now? I’m happy to see you cousin, even though I know this must have been a hard choice for you…You’ve always been brave.
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He reached Avrora. He didn’t smile. He just looked at her with his ice-blue eyes. He stared at her, still as a proud oak in the forest. He fixed his gaze on her for a few, long-lasting seconds. Then, he turned to his cousin. He knew he wouldn’t have appreciated his current look, but he couldn’t afford to just ignore him.
“Darian…” he whispered, “I’m alive”. That word still sounded strange to him. He had wished to be dead so many times in the last few days, and now he was feeling so…alive. Like never before.
He looked up to the guards protecting the entrance. Then, he looked around, to the people surrounding him. He knew those factions by heart. I’m ready. Please, Milani, give me the strength…
Once again Darian heads out into the town in his common clothes, his gear hidden beneath the cloak and tunic. When he heard word of the protest, he knew he needed to be there. Partly to see what would happen, partly to find Varian and make sure he didn't do anything foolish.
Darian nods his head in greeting to Avrora. "Miss Vikta, I see your as spirited as ever."
He then spots the ragged form of Varian and gasps. Milani...be merciful!
"V...Julius, my god man what has happened to you?"
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