Once done, Sanita waits, eying Roan coolly. She doesn't seem angry with him, just frustrated (Well, annoyed for certain, but no longer in a murderous rage as she was when she ordered him out of her room, perhaps that has something to do with wearing clothes).
Evelynn raps her gauntlet on Dante's armored arm, then clangs her own armor. "I thank you for the offer of the arm, Sir Dante, but we'd sound like an explosion in a smithery if we tried to walk arm in arm in all this metal." She grins an impish grin that suddenly makes the resemblance to Sanita uncanny. Clearly the father left quite a stamp on them, given they have different mothers.
She walks amiably with Dante, discussing training, soldiers, defensive positions, etc. Basically typical army/soldiering stuff.
First point, done... "At this point, Ms. Sanita instead, mostly ignored my requests for assistance, and decided to threaten to kill me and cover it up by obfuscating her motives, claiming self defense. I decided to ignore this threat, and attempted to continue on my agenda. Sanita instead decided to turn the conversation towards our meeting a week ago, in which I offered to keep an eye on her in place of others. I attempted to explain that this offer, was to keep her work secure, that while the argument with Ms. Anastacia was concluded, the grievances were not. And that I had hoped that if I could vouch for her good conduct, that I could help heal this rift between her and some of your council, so that no one would find it necessary to meddle in her affairs." Roan stops speaking, as the music box begins to wind down, and rewinds it.
"Sanita did not listen, or question me at all as to the details, she just continued to threaten my life, saying things like she would 'burn Oleg's to the ground' to see me dead, or 'that she would kill me if it was the last thing she'd ever do' and that she 'killed a good man who was not fit to rule.' Eventually, she demanded that I leave and I did, having never even fulfilled my original purpose."
Roan let's his detailing of events settle, before continuing, into an aside. "Once, I participated in a war of succession between two sons in the River Kingdoms. The army I was hired to was poorly manned, and outnumbered, our commander avoided combat. Eventually, he took camp on the western ridge of a canyon, and our enemies gathered at the base, trapping up between the ravine and themselves. In the morning, we drew up to give battle, and as our lines began to approach, the sun crested over the canyon, shining on our backs. The sun, suddenly glaring into our enemies eyes, and gleaming off our weapons and armor blinded them. Their army was in route before the hour was over. The light, blinds as well as the dark, and carelessness blinds as well as excess of fear.
I have no spy network Wilhelm, and I've not spied on her. Fharn can attest that I've made no requests of the treasury to fund such things. The plans I put forward into the council I said multiple times were plans for the distant future, once other things have been taken care of. Yet this 'Spymaster' of yours has already given multiple threats to my life, and given this 'good man unfit to rule' she's seen dead, I cannot in good conscious suggest that anything of this woman will give your requests for some modicum of decency any thought. Further, she is gripped by a fear that is only matched by her hubris and her recklessness. These are not the qualities that make a good spymaster, she'd rather assassinate allies just to be safe, than take a moment and contemplate the far reaching consequences of her actions! Caution is what makes a good Spymaster, Wilhelm, not fear. Those who fail to recognize the difference like Sanita can never offer the delicate touch that the post demands."
Roan's voice, despite maintaining a quiet tone shows his disdain and anger. "As such, brother, I must give word to my distrust and lack of confidence in your choice as spymaster, and ask her to step down that I may take her place. Unlike her, I've already given you information as to our enemy's plans; not fears, rumors, or speculation, knowledge of exactly what they plan, and it didn't even take a day for me to get it, nor even a network."
Sanita listens to Roan, quietly, almost passively. She does snort at the end of his tirade. Finally, when he's done, she looks at Wilhelm, then closes her eyes, and begins speaking.
"The door opens, the sheet slides off. I grab the flask and the rapier, stand up, ready to kill the assassin. There are two exits, the window and the door, door blocked. Additional weapons on table, acid flasks strapped to ceiling above door still there. No noises at window, only one assassin. Find out who sent them. It's Roan, that complicates things. Wilhelm will be upset his brother is an assassin. Can I hide his body in the woods? Too many people here now. Not enough acid to dissolve it." Her voice changes. "Sanita, I need your help." The voice sounds like a half-way decent imitation of Roans. Then the voice goes back to Sanitas. "Trick? Probably. Report from.. spy said Roan wanted to be in charge of the espionage. No information on this man yet. Damn Wilhelm, no warning, no funds, and dumping his brother on me. I'm naked, that should distract him. Unless he's into men. Either way, won't hurt and might keep him off his game. Is this his first attempt to take over? I thought Wilhelm had shot that plan down. Need to talk to Wilhelm. Did he send a stalking horse? Not like him, too naive. Lanya maybe, but I thought we were on the same page. No, Anastacia maybe?" Her voice changes again, her own voice this time, but with more animation than she's been using. "Oh, Roan, I didn't know you were an admirer. You shouldn't sneak into a lady's bedroom without letting her know your intentions, you never know, she might be entertaining someone... So, did you come to rape me, or murder me? Just curious you realize..."
Her voice goes back to the less emotional voice. "No flicker either way, if he were here on legitimate business, he'd be shocked at the idea of raping or killing me. Not even a flicker of hesitation. He's studying my countermeasures. Damn, I'll have to make new ones again. Oh well, I'm getting lazy anyway. Plus there's assassins on the way, so I'll need to get back in shape. Was nice not having an assassin after me every week or two. Horsechopper, Mithral Breastplate, crossbow, sling. Breastplate is articulated, and he moves well. He's going to be faster than most people who use breastplate. Metal conducts heat better, alchemist fire. Keep talking, keep him focused on me, not the ceiling, not the table."
Her voice becomes an imitation of Roan's again. "Must be a pain to set up every night. I've come to ask your help, Spymaster, but I'm afraid I don't have any way to contact you discretely except this. Firstly a question, why is it that Lanya Medvyed sometimes go by the name Beladon? And secondly, what are your thoughts on her?"
Sanita opens her eyes, as the music box winds down. She picks it up, and begins winding it again. "Pardon me, I'll continue after I wind this up." She says with her usual grin.
The construction of the Arcanists house had really picked up the pace these last weeks - what two months ago had only been a thoughtful glance at Sanita's foundation and a few sketches on paper was now a house. Half of it at least for while the first floor was done, the second was still under construction. A canvas covered the unfinished roof, causing the house to look slightly like a giant's misplaced birthdaygift.
By the time the meeting was called, the construction had stopped for the day - but the summer sun would still be up for several hours. The front door was opened invitingly and Munin sat on the fence of the front porch and greeted everyone. Well inside, one entered a small hallway and continued out into the common room. It looked to be the largest of all the rooms in the house - but it would still be cramped with all the people gathered. The hearth was unlit - the chimney wasn't ready yet, and the heat was hardly needed anyway. A set of windows had their lighting complimented with a quartet of Dancing Lights, one in each corner. In the middle of the room there was a makeshift table large enough to accommodate most of the invited, as well as a motley looking collection of chairs and sit-able objects.
At the far end of the table, Fhârn paced back and forth - politely greeting everyone but not speaking about the heart of the matter until everyone had a seat. Standing with him where three other people some might recognize as the arcanists own set of advisor. There was a sharply dressed elf named Raul, an equally well dressed old man surrounded by an aura of antique; Charles and a small lively halfling with a sketchbook, called Vivian. The last pair of advisers could be spotted in an adjacent room; a dwarf lawyer named Hennra and a gnome scribe by the name of Timirton. They were drafting a new anti-littering law, which hinted a bit about the topic for the evening.
"Welcome everyone!" Fhârn called out as soon as most of the people had arrived and the agreed time had come. He stopped his pacing and stood straight, hands behind his back. "Glad to see that you had the time - and will to cram inside my humble abode. But let us get to the heart of the matter. As you no doubt noticed - someone has been expressing some 'artistic creativity' on our walls and houses lately." He paused for a soft chuckle and turned to the halfling at his side. The small woman Stood up from her seat (which didn't really make her much taller - or easier to see) and lifted her sketchbook over her head. With a high pitched but pleasant voice she started to speak, while showing the book to everyone. "This is the symbol that has been turning up everywhere!" She vent a lap around the table, making sure everyone got a chance to see it. As she did, the elf (Raul) took over and continued speaking. "I've been looking into it - it seems to belong to a local political party, the 'Freedom Party' they call themselves. Outspoken champions of the Six River Freedoms and deeply entrenched further to the south and west in the River Kingdoms proper." he paused and let Fhârn take the word again. The old man Charles merely stood by and watched, arms crossed and nodding to empathize the others words. "Political dissidents are never fun to deal with - but such is to be expected when one builds something new. But ..." He paused, letting the word hang in the air. "At first, the signs were merely mundane scribblings in coal and crayons. Could be merely harmless, but annoying vandalism. However - lately Arcane Marks bearing the symbol has started to appear. Which means someone with magical talent has taken a stake in this political moment - and I rather find out whom and what they want before they decide to up the ante, so to speak..." Besides, having to run around and 'Erasing' them is becoming a chore ... he thought. After finishing his overveiw of the situation, Fhârn swept his arm over the gathered people indicating that the word was free. He glanced at Sanita and Roan, knowing that both of them were likely to have snipped up something in their nets.
Sanita finishes rewinding the music box, pours herself a glass of water, drinks a third of it, and then starts the music box again. Her eyes close, and she continues in her cool voice. "Lanya? Ah, testing me? See if I've done any research yet. Looking for proof I'm not good at the job. Distract him, play with words, banter." In her normal voice then. "Aww, does that mean you didn't come here to try to rape me? Or kill me? That means I can't kill you... Oh, but you're in my rooms fully armed and armored... at night.. and you snuck in... I coooouuuullllldddd just kill you and tell people I thought you were going to rape me... Even Wilhelm couldn't argue that was over the top..."
Her voice drops back into the cool tone. "No flicker either, no fear. Foolish or has more information than I do. Hand on weapon though. Why is he asking about Lanya? Divide and conquer? Lanya supported me during the meeting, so did Dante. Lanya's also angling for Wilhelm, although he's not bright enough to notice it. Foolish. He should bed and wed her. Would make the country more stable. Diplomats are a dime a dozen, a strong co-ruler is hard as hell to find. He should ask Dad about that. Hah!" Her face does tinge pink for a second at that last statement.
Then again in her normal voice, tone thoughtful. "Oh, it's a pain to set up the first time. After that, you just pull the wires apart and hide the glass bulbs. Of course, now I'll need to do something else, as you've seen it. Unfortunately, there's no bars for the doors. I'm assuming you used magic to make the door open. And Oleg insists on oiling the hinges so they don't squeak."
And back to the cool voice. "Need to build my own house, no help for it. Set up some cross-bow traps, poison needle traps, rust the hinges first thing. Hinges on the inside, doors opening in. So, trying to get dirt on Lanya from me? Is he stupid or clever? Stupid if he thinks I'll give him any dirt on an ally. Clever if he hopes I'll give him something wrong so he can turn around and use it against me to prove I'm incompetent. Or if he's trying to make me focus on Lanya so he can get a clean run at Dante. He's already tried for a subversive military force not under Dante's control. For all his protestations in council, he's the one who doesn't want to be controlled, he wants to work outside the lines. Not that that's a bad thing, but not if he's going to destabilize the charter. Father and Grandmamma bet the... put a lot of money into this venture, not going to let him ruin it or take it over. Best to respond with something about Lanya, but not with anything useful. None of his business anyway."
Her voice then sounds bored as she continues. "As to Lanya, she has reasons for not claiming titles she could, if she were of a mind to. That's actually a fairly common occurance. I suspect she'll be a good counterbalance to Wilhelm being in charge. Ameliorate his tendencies as a Paladin to be stupidly orderly and lawful to the point of killing the goose to save the gander."
And back to cool. "There, something noncommital, see if he takes it at face value, or if he reads more meaning into it, see how he processes information."
And in Roan's voice. "So she is noble, but not by birth, social climber. Why is everything about her suspicious? In which case, do you know her past? Where she's from? If she's to be Wilhelm's wife, we must make sure she is honorable, she seems to be easily accused of all manner of evils with only the slightest cause..."
Cool voice. "Is he trying to paint Lanya with a dark brush, and use our alliance as a wedge to drive me out of office? Could work. Trying to cat's paw me? Get me to defend Lanya in advance while he's already got some 'slight evidence' to throw up in court and cast a pall on both of us? Will need to talk to Lanya, see if there's anything really well hidden and dark. Can't afford to have something blind side us."
Roan's voice. "But do you honestly believe that you have the trust of your peers so assuredly that they won't even seek to question you if a body appears in your room? Surely in a company rife with magic like this, I am not the only one who has ways to force the truth from you? Come now, you're smarter than that, surely, if you had such trust I wouldn't have to be intervening for you."
Cool voice. "There we go, now he's showing his true intents. Undermine my confidence, drive a wedge between me and my allies, also attempt to keep me from killing him out of hand. Obviously he's not sure he can take me, even with me naked. Smart. And now threats of magic compulsion. Excellent. Lousy tactic with me, shows he didn't do his homework. Easier to tell the truth and not have to worry about it. Not all the truth, of course, but remembering not to tell everything is easier than keeping track of which lies were told to which people. He'll never keep his tales straight. Ah, and now the 'I am helping you' attempt, classic psychological warfare. Good guard bad guard, use the council as the bad guards, pretend to be the good guard. Ingratiate himself to me, make me think of him as a friend or potential ally. Keep your friends close, keep your enemies in the graveyard... or in your pocket, as Grandmamma always says."
The music box winds down again, and Sanita coughs. "One moment please."
At his desk, due to the hour he was without his shirt or boots, sitting in his breeches, reading and marking notes, while his pipe filled the room with a light haze around the ceiling of the tent. A soldier popped his head in to announce a visitor. These boys have no common sense. "It's a council member boy, show her in, don't make her wait in the cold." he chided sending the young man scurrying back out.
Outside the guard returned looking harried, "The general will see you right away m'lady." he states with only a hint of sullenness in his voice.
The first thing out of his mouth, as he's come earlier and prepared for the meeting by having short conversations with Fharn's advisors, is simply: "I don't think discouraging public works of art is a good idea. We have no idea who these people are, or why they're putting up their sigils, but until we have contact I would advise that you stop erasing them and I would advise you stop your draft of that anti-littering law. It won't do anything productive - those who don't litter already won't litter in the future, and those who do litter will simply feel pointlessly punished by such a petty law."
"As for the symbol itself..." Dareon furrows his brow. "I'm not certain, but I think I've seen it before. Not in public, I mean - I've definitely seen it where it's been painted and marked. I mean on a person. I'll definitely get back to you in a few days with that for sure."
Dareon was schooled at a preeminent magical and mundane academy for young boys, and he is known to have been mischievous during his years there, earning the ire of most of his professors.
Dareon has never committed a serious crime (at least, as far as anybody knows).
His family is unaware of his presence in the Stolen Lands. This includes both his immediate family and his more distant family members.
Sanita smiles, dimples on her face. "I'm so happy you find it amusing." She says, taking another glass of water. "I'd be more impressed with your potential if you found it educational." She says after taking the drink.
Once the musicbox is playing again, she closes her eyes again and continues.
Sanita's normal voice, with amusement. "My dear boy, don't you know, I never lie. I make a point of not lying. I may not always tell the entire truth, but every single one of my companions knows I've not lied to them. It's much easier to just tell the truth and remember what bits of the truth not to tell than it is to remember a bunch of lies."
Cool voice. "Well, maybe not Anastacia... always alters reality based on her emotions... But not sure... all should..."
Amused voice, imitating Dante's voice. "Did you know it was Roan when the door opened?"
Cool voice. "She'd find compelling truth from me so annoying..."
Amused voice. "No, I didn't."
Dante's Voice "Did you know before you killed him?"
Amused voice "Yes, I did."
Dante's Voice "Why did you kill him?"
Amused voice "When he came into my room unannounced, I thought he was there to kill me after the way he offered in council to be my killer if I went beyond what Wilhelm wanted. There was also the possibility he was going to rape me, but I gave the murder idea more credence. I killed him so he wouldn't kill me."
Cool voice. "True, true, and true. Not all the truth, but if I kill him it'll be because he's offered to kill me in council, and I think he's looking forward to it. Not sure what I did to piss him off. Then again, who cares, not like all the people who try to kill me have had very good reasons. At least gold I can understand. Or jealousy. Or greed."
Dante's voice. "All truth."
Normal voice "And if I kill you, it'll be because I think you want to kill me and take over my job. You're not cut out for it though, not yet anyways. Your mind still thinks in straight lines like a sword, rather than like a briar patch in coils and switchbacks and sharp thorns."
Cool voice. "Wet behind the ears punk, come in my chambers at night, throwing around your weight like you're a freaking super spy. Ought to cut your balls off and fry them up for breakfast." Cold annoyance now. "If there's anything I can't stand, it's incompetence."
Roan's voice, arrogant and snearing. "And what of it? Have your 'switchbacks and sharp thorns' given you the room to operate freely? No, say what you will of how you do not lie, but the distrust and anger held against you is still clear. Perhaps your thorns will give you a clear understanding and observational skills? Clearly not, otherwise you'd realize I never threatened your life, and even if I did, I've certainly not had the time to ensure you stepped out of line."
Cool voice. "They are working now, boy. Distrust and anger mostly from Anastacia, good reason, rode her hard. Not so bad honestly. Mostly mad over losing the queen's spot to Lanya. Sorry about Felix. Felix, that's a good bit of test of the brat, nobody outside council knows the whole truth about..." She breaks off, and her normal voice continues. "Sorry, the rest of that thought sequence is classified, I'll repeat it when Roan is not available if you like." She says to Wilhelm, then continues.
Sarcastic Roan. "Oh, but perhaps you simply have gained the cunning to see my meaning through lies and deceit! But alas, you've also failed there, otherwise you'd perhaps have considered that my actions were to give confidence to Wilhelm and Anastacia that you would be held in check and not hound you relentlessly, and get in your way? Perhaps my mind is not as twisted as yours, but I'd rather be the blade than your self-defeating ouroboros, doomed to consume yourself."
Cool voice. "What a tyro. Trying to play me off against Anastacia and Wilhelm. Anastacia doesn't trust me, oh wah. Wilhelm trusts I'll do what's good for country, if not him. He doens't like me, that's ok, not here to be liked. Fharn can be liked. Gotta warn Fharn about the puppy, to ignore his delusions of grandeur. Carrot and stick time, pretend I'm agitated, give him some dirt, offer him a job. Trainable. Keep enemies in graveyard or pocket."
Normal voice. "You see, you don't get it. There is truth, and there is reality. The two are not the same."
Cool voice. "Especially for Anastacia. Most people really."
Amused voice. "So, what you're saying is, you really just wanted to be involved in the spy fun, and went about it in the worst possible way. The way that would ensure I had detailed people to watch you and keep you from interfering..."
Cool voice. "No, he wants power. Ambition. But let him think he's fooled me."
Thoughtful and amused voice. "Hmm, if you want a job, I might be able to find some work for you. But none of this setting up your own network to watch me. All that does is draw attention to me and my people. Remember when I say I speak the truth..." Her voice goes ice cold. [b]"If you try to play at games and get some of my people killed, I will absolutely kill you if it's the last thing I ever do. Wilhelm and his blood relation and paladin morals be damned. When I ask people to put their lives on the line for me, I don't do it lightly, and I won't allow someone who wants to gain some power and influence put them in danger for his own ambitions. I'm not taking this job because I want the power. If I wanted power, I could have it tomorrow. If I wanted money, I could have it tomorrow. I'm doing this because I happen to think it's a good idea, and because those I care about asked me to make sure this kingdom is a success. For it to be a success, it doesn't need Roan. It doesn't need me. It doesn't even need Wilhelm. Or Lanya, or Anastacia, or Dante. Or any other single individual."
Cool voice. "Gods who wants to be in charge, damn Grandmamma, how dare she name me heir. B%*%+ knows I don't want that. Dont' care how much money she has. Maybe I'll marry..." SHe pauses. "Sorry, family laundry." She says, mimicing Evelynn's voice.
After a short pause, she continues again in the cold voice. "Remember that my first concern is this country, not an individual. If you can't live with that, I suggest you get out now, while you still have your skin. If you want to make this charter work, and you want your brother on the throne, then get behind it and push as hard as you can, or get the hell out of here. I've hurt people I like to try them by fire. I've gotten a good man killed because he wasn't strong enough to be king, although that wasn't my intention at the time. I've hit every weak spot I could find in this group with a hammer, and then poured salt in the wound, to try to break them. To forge them in a crucible. I've permanently alienated some of them in the hopes that the final smelting would be stronger than the original ingredients. I'm not going to let you undo that. If you want to be involved, you're going to get hammered as hard as everyone else did, and if you survive, you'll be a honed blade to defend the country. Or perhaps a poisoned dirk in the right spot. Or you'll be shattered slag that's thrown away. So, you want a job, or you want a face full of acid?" Her voice turns sweet at the end.
Cool voice. "Carrot and stick... bitter truth.. Oh Felix.. why did you leave the wall damn you... well.. turned out for the better... happier now... Alright pup... how do you respond now... Truth hurts... Why everyone lies instead... Paladin's come closest... understand truth is harsh... even they tell white lies... make people feel better... Hope Wilhelm works out... Dante would have been better... Anastacia worse... Lemons make lemonade.. hemlock not hemlockade.. know difference... prefer keep puppy alive... less trouble with Wilhelm... if he attacks it'll be now... hand on his sword.. drop my sword.. misdirect... belt on table... if he attacks will need flasks... I'm tougher than him... armor useless against flasks... I can heal... so can he... hard to cast spells while burning and melting..."
Roan's voice, snide. "Oh, an ultimatum? Truly an example of truth and reality not meshing you are. Before I give my answer, though. I'm still fascinated by impulsiveness and lack of forethought, yet you claim to be cunning, as you fail to understand my purpose again."
Cool voice. "Puppy..."
Roan's Voice "I've no interest in your pathetic spy ring, I offered to be your leash holder so that it wasn't held by a paladin or a priestess who both despise you. But that doesn't mean I'll ignore holding your leash entirely either. When you lose control of your spies, I'll be there to clean house. So, there's just no way I can simply work for you and not have all the information you have. How can I hold your leash, if you hold mine, you see?"
Cool voice. "Ambitious... puppy wants to leash me... funny... Self deluded?"
Roan's Voice "Oh, and since you truly a vision of perfection rivaling Irori himself, perhaps you should go ahead and get a hundred thousand gold coins and the throne of Brevoy arranged for my dear brother, I'm sure he'll enjoy having those since you could get those for him tomorrow after all."
Cool voice. "Idiot... working... not even paying attention anymore... snag belt loop... step down from bed... he's making too much noise, people will hear... need to end this soon... get more information first... see if he's a threat to Wilhelm... Not the first time a sibling wanted the throne... His ambition that great? Or just not bright?"
Roan's voice, dripping with sarcasm. "Ah, but now I'm just being snide, pardon me if you will. So now to answer this truth you have constructed for ourselves to reside in; acid. Or if you'd like, I'll construct us a different truth, and we'll go from there. After all, ultimatums are such a bore, wouldn't you agree Ouroboros?"
Cool voice. "Hand on sword... 3 seconds flask hits acid flasks... eight feet away, he'll have to lunge... grapple with belt in hand... smash belt on his back... use body as shield... present belly as target... sword gonna hurt... hands will take days to heal... can't cast while on fire and melting... Time to make the move... hope he's distracted enough..."
Sanita's voice. "Sorry, no leash for me, Roan. I don't do leashes. That's the point. I can do the job, but not with a leash. You don't hunt foxes with your dogs tied to your horse. If you wish acid, I'll give you acid, and fire, and we'll see who burns. I repeat, if you want to be part of making this thing work, I can use the help. But I won't have your sword over my neck. That's what you don't understand, my people, my neck. If someone in my employ goes rogue, then I will take care of them. Not you. Not Wilhelm, Not Lanya, Not Dante. Me."
Cool voice. "My people, my problems, my decision. Someone crosses us.. they die... or worse. Not your decision... puppy. Drop rapier now... step off bed.. spread legs wider than need be... distraction... hope he enjoys the show... puppy..."
Sanita's voice. "Are you ready to die for your ambition to be my watch dog and ride herd on my people, Roan? I'm willing to die to prevent you from being my damoclesian sword. On the way back, we were attacked by pirates. You heard I'm sure. What you didn't hear was that we blew up the ship to kill someone who had learned the secret of the sting ships. I did that is, I blew up the ship to kill the man who came to steal that secret, because that secret is needed for this country. I blew up that engine room with myself in it to keep that edge for this country. Do you have that conviction Roan? Are you ready to die for your beliefs?"
Cool voice. "Eyes twitched.. nostrils flared.. he sees the belt.. too late to stop it though... Options change... may have to mash it between us... gods that hurts.. I heal, he doesn't..."
Roan's voice. "As you prepare to fling fire and acid, and burn us to death, you still to the last, fail to understand. If you were trusted enough to run without a leash, then I'd have never any reason to step forward, and they would have raised their voice against it."
Cool voice. "False truths. Lies, Damn Lies, Statistics. Anastacia approved, Wilhelm didn't. Lie. Wilhelm veto'd. Lanya, Dante, vocal approval of me... no approval of Roan... Not endorsing ruler's brother's idea same as denouncing it... never call the ruler's brother an idiot to his face... unless you don't have a choice.."
Roan's voice. "You, aren't, trusted. If I die, you think that will change? How many people who hold your leash do you think you'll have to kill before they trust you? But, if everyone who attempts to keep tabs on you dies, they'll only wonder what secrets you're so desperate to hide."
Cool voice. "I've more blood than you pup.. hands never clean... make this kingdom work... No need to hide... everyone knows what I am.... Freedom in that..."
Roan's voice. "If you were trusted to handle your own mess, there would have been someone who argued against my plan. Did your agent tell you this? That the council debated my plans, and not a single person suggested that I should not keep be your keeper? Not one. Not Wilhelm, not Dareon, not even your little 'friend' Fharn. Only Rowan spoke on your behalf, and even he merely implied that someone trusted you, and that it would be too expensive to watch you. That's the only defense you got, it was too costly to bother, but no one suggested it you were trustworthy."
Cool voice. "Is too expensive puppy... Not how you think... unstable kingdom... built in fractures... enemy play two halves off each other... stupid plan... Fharn knows when to keep mouth shut... survived dinner with parents... you'd be dead by morning... Grandmamma would kill you to teach you a lesson... probably raise you up again the next day to see if you learned it..."
Roan's voice. "You insist this is for my petty ambition, and again, I tell you you don't understand. You aren't trusted enough to perform this job properly, you cannot escape the leash. I simply offer you the lesser of many evils. So choose with your conviction, do you accept that I'll be here, the only one who watches over you with concern and making sure you are unhindered? Or do you try to kill me, engendering further distrust, and ensure that your collar only tightens further? Trust me, and you'll gain the only ally who will advocate on your behalf, who will say he's found nothing to report, who will give them a reason to trust you. Unless of course, you're a rabid dog who needs to be put down, I will not lie on your behalf, merely give you more freedom as to what is 'acceptable behavior' than anyone else who will leash you. You spit at me as your enemy, but I'm the only ally you've got."
Cool voice. "Excellent, but too late. Showed hand early. Every argument puts him in charge. Wants me to trust him.. while he eagerly offers to lie to brother and council.. Says he won't, but he will... he's lying now... He won't be able to maintain his position if he doesn't... Stupid way to run a government... unstable inherently... Diplomats lie... spies can't lie to the people they spy for... stupid puppy... Lie to enemies.. misdirect.. never lie to allies. All I need... not worth fighting to get more... better to let Wilhelm deal with puppy.. test him.. see how he does... Time to kick puppy..."
Angry Sanita voice. "That was one lie too many Roan, be gone from this room now. Either I'm in charge of the espionage or I'm not. I'm not going to have you like a gargoyle around my neck. If Wilhelm doesn't trust me, then he can revoke my position. I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks. Now go, or by the gods I'll burn this entire damn fort down around our ears and rip your throat out with my teeth while it burns. GO! Out of my room, Roan! I didn't invite you in here, now leave!"
Sanita's voice barely rises at the end, although it's obvious she would have been yelling at that point. She finishes her glass of water. "He's your brother Wilhelm, if you want him in this job, go for it. He's got potential, he might grow into the job. He's too impulsive. He's too ambitious. I can train him, but I can't be leashed by him. He doesn't have the experience. He can't tell the difference between a truth that's only half there, and a lie." She shakes her head. "But it's your choice. If I'm not in this role, I'll simply work however I need to to make sure this enterprise succeeds. What we can't afford is a fractured ruling structure. Military that isn't under military control... spies that aren't under the control of the chief of spooks.. I may be paranoid, but I recognize suicidal levels of it when I see it. It's suicidal to try to maintain a house divided against itself. If you put trust in your brother's judgement, and he's advocating dividing the military into two groups who don't coordinate, and spying on your own spies, putting their lives in danger, telling them you don't trust them from the start... how are they going to trust you?" She shakes her head.
"The arcane marks are a little bit much, though, as they can't be removed with paint or soapy water...We'll have to find the caster and ask them to stop."
Dareon chuckles a bit to himself. "Well, ask her to stop. I wouldn't count on covertness, Fharn, if it's who I think it is. I met her a few weeks ago (if my dating is correct) and if I'm right...she's living in my house."
In this... 'report' she believes me to be an assassin, then decides I'm trying to sabotage her position by digging up information on her, then decides I want to kill her for her position, then believes that I may strike at Dante, then believes I may strike at you. Then, she fails to understand her inability to rile me as her being predictable, and that since every word out of her mouth since I've met her has been pure vitriol, and reacting to her obvious jibes would be petty.
She repeatedly calls me a liar, for daring to say that no one spoke in her defense save Rowan. Yet even if I wasn't given tacit approval, there was no lie in me saying that no one raised their voice in her defense.
She thought I was making attempts to sunder her bonds of trust with her and the council. And she spies on you and your council for that matter as evident by her knowledge of my proposal. Yet only moments before she was wondering who in the council sent me to work against her. Amusing since she doesn't seem to realize that she apparently doesn't have the trust in you all that she thinks she has.
She shows one gleaming moment of clarity in realizing that she knows little of me. But by the end she assumes nigh everything about me in her plans to kill me. She assumes I cannot heal without a spell for example, or that my focus is too weak to cast a spell while acid pours over me. For that matter, she assumed me to be a spellcaster multiple times, she assumed that I'd grapple with her in a fight, she assumed that I would not begin striking at her flasks and enjoy the safety of my polearm provides as she burns.
She assumed my offer to keep an eye on her and her agents was to kill her, despite only suggesting that of her rogue agents, and suggesting that I'd be more than happy to simply turn the criminals over to the law rather than dispense judgement myself. And most of all, she assumed in the end that I wanted her job, the one thing I never even asked for up until this moment. Which I only ask as I've mentioned is now due to the fact that I cannot put faith in her methods. She assumed, I was an assassin. She assumed I wanted her job. She assumed I was a spellcaster. She assumed I was lying. She. Assumes. Too. Much.
You gave her permission to kill for you with your blessing and not in defense of herself. How many bodies will it take? How many times will she stoop to that 'necessity' because she assumes that someone's a threat? That I'm a threat, that Anastacia is a threat, that any number of people who's names and faces you don't know are a threat, before you realize that many of them died because of assumptions? True or not, that is what you are sanctioning. From her own mouth, you've heard her contradict herself and not realize it, plan to kill based on nothing but assumptions, and has the arrogance to believe herself right in the end without questioning. I was not 'maybe' an assassin. I was an assassin. I was not 'maybe' seeking her position. I was seeking her position. As I've promised, I give you council, brother, and I cannot give trust to a mind that would attack itself first 'just to be safe' than have just the slightest hesitancy that it is her own tail. Even if it were not to be me, even if it were to leave the role vacant, we cannot allow a mind this confused a role that delicate."
Sanita smiles. "And yet, you do want my job. You are a spellcaster, and you did lie. You cannot fathom how people like me think, you say it yourself. Yet... it is people like me who will be your enemies, who infiltrate your borders, who turn your allies into your enemies. If you can't fathom how my mind works, what makes you think you are qualified to fight what you don't understand?" She asks quietly. "Everyone is a potential threat. That is the truth. You are a threat. You have offered to kill people. You are therefore a threat. Threats must be weighed. Someone who enters my rooms at 2 in the morning, armed, attempting to be silent and not alert the inhabitant? And you expect to be trusted by me? The fact you cannot understand why I would disbelieve your story is prime proof you are not competent to be in charge of the spies." She says quietly.
Sanita looks at Roan. "Let's assume that is true." She says evenly. "Let's assume you don't want my job. If that is true, you would not be good at it. You would not like it. You would not do things that you would find distasteful. Finally, you are a junior to a noble, not born of the blood.. a bastard. You've lived your whole life as a bastard, knowing people wanted to use your for your blood, and hated you for it. For existing and proving your father or mother's infidelity. Living proof of their betrayals." The words aren't even all that unkind. "Can you really trust that your judgement isn't off? I'm a bastard after all, just like you. Yet I've been given a high position. Are you certain that part of your mistrust, and your desire, is not bound up in your blood? Are you that certain of your soul that you are certain that your blood is not coloring your perceptions? That your need for acknowledgement is not driving you to this?"
"I didn't wish for your job because I wished to trust my brother's judgement and to find my own place, not because I find it distastefully beneath me. And no, I am not certain, I am never certain. Sanita, I am sharp eyed as you've seen, and have a mind for picking out lies. But that is just a taste. I can read minds, I can know when someone is lying no matter how well trained, I can peer into a man's heart and find out what weakness he's most easily twisted by. Between my magic and my talent, there is little that can be hidden from me if I wish to find it. And yet I still do not trust my perceptions completely, because I can still be deceived.
That is why I cannot trust you with this task. Your confidence that there is no 'assassin out the window' as it were can be taken advantage of. Traps and red herrings, if you answer these all with aggression and speed, you can be played, and easily. That is why I hold no confidence in you, because you hold too much in yourself."
She crouches to look into the low entrance to Dante's tent, then enters to stand, looking at the large man. Anastacia is in full armor, her shield on her arm. She wears a backpack. In short, the cleric is dressed for adventuring, or war.
"Good morning General. I'm glad I found you awake. I thought you might like to drill your men. I doubt they have much experience in dark-fighting. With any luck, we can embed a number of clerics in the army, to heal and support it in the field. These few men you have will likely form the cadre of officers, when you have a real army. They need to get used to working alongside casters. Cleric or otherwise."
Anastacia pauses to draw a cloth eyepatch from around her neck. It had seemed like nothing more than some weird neckwear, hanging alongside the leather cord bearing the holy symbol of Pharasma. Then the cleric ties it on her head, covering her left eye.
"Prevents night-blindness for one eye." She explains.
"So, are you up for it? I wanted to discuss measures, and counter measures with you, as well. We could speak on these matters while out on patrol."
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He nods. "Very well." he raises his voice a bit. "Corporal! Rouse and assemble the men for in the dark drills!" the corporal sticks his head in the tent and gives a nod before trudging out into the camp.
"If you'd be patient with me for a few minutes while I don my armor?" he asks Anastacia. Moving to the rack, he begins to assemble the fullplate with a practiced hand.
At the last council meetings, Bej has kept silent. He nods and answers when his opinion is asked, but feels his duty as Warden like a stifling burden. He wishes to produce, and make. He came to this land to set up a nice, growing place as Erastil commands, not to be a watchful eye on a mass of unruly colonists too eager to get drunk.
When the meeting ends, he raises a hand and looks directly up to Wilhelm. “Ehm. M’lord. My friends. I have something to say.” his self-assuredness is hidden behind a veil of contriteness.
“I... don’t know how good of a job I’m doing as a Warden. Honestly, I do reckon the role is an important one, but it’s just not for me.” he puts on the table his magic arrows and looks at the original members – Wilhelm, Rowan, Anastacia, all of them “You folks where trusting enough to allow me to reap the fruit of that charter, and that I appreciate. My men in the country are just about to finish building the farm I’ve always dreamed of – I’m riding over there tomorrow to help them finish the job.” he points somewhere in the map, just south of Oleg’s, near a small creek.
“It’s a nice place. We got plenty pigs and chickens, and fields of wheat, and a damn beautiful apple orchard. The cider is going to be a God’s treat.” Bej’s stern face seems to relax as he talks about his new place. “That fella Lorbeck is going to work for me, and the Jonovic family is moving in too, and a few other folks. It is a fine bunch I got there.”
“M’lord, I hereby resign as the Warden of Domierov.” he bows to Wilhelm, then moves to shake his hand “My friends, should you ever need me, even just for a nice pint of cider, you know where to find me. Godspeed you all, I’m sure you’ll make Domierov as prosperous as Erastil’s fields.”
_______________
Anastacia smiles ruefully. "It's just past midnight. So technically, morning. Anyway you look tired. I realize it was a mistake to visit you. I was hoping to learn some of the soldier's trade from you."
Anastacia has a sad, perhaps disappointed expression on her face." But I can sense that you would rather I just shove off. And so I shall."
Anastacia curtsies, then turns, leaving the tent and the camp, headed back to her own tiny tent. Tonight it is set up about a quarter mile to the east of Zatoksta. As she walks Anastacia imagines she will always think of the town as Oleg's.
Anastacia's tent was pitched close by to a young family, that had their own camp set up, and were starting a farm. The family's wagon had rolled over the father's leg,breaking it. Anastacia had set the bone, then healed the leg, so they at least, didn't mind having her around. She remembers Dante's face, all twisted with resentment. Oh, well. Anastacia sighs. It is only the weakest glue holding the council together, it seemed like only the tiniest strike would shatter the whole.
Anastacia smiles at the gruff Northerner. "Well, I wish you the best. I think perhaps, I envy you the quiet."
Anastacia steps up and gives Bej a hug." We never did get that chess game. I'll try to get by someday, for that, and to try that cider."
Dareon chuckles at the mental image of Fharn's suggestion. "Perhaps that would be the correct course, though I don't think having more of us would help much. Perhaps bring Wilhelm, yourself, and Lanya? You, the most interested party, as well as our diplomat and our leader."
Setting aside his discomfort as business as raised, Wilhelm nods along with Shimmer's proposed outline. This makes good sense, though there are certain lingering concerns about the kobold's integration. With you at heir helm, cousin, I think we'll manage adequately.
"I think your proposal makes good sense, and can tentatively say that I'd approve. There are certain concerns that I have, however. First, I'm under the impression that many kobold tribes have a penchant for behavior that would be unacceptable in Domierov. I recognize that my knowledge is second and third hand, but I think it worth discussing nonetheless. Will the Sootscales be willing to live amicably with the rest of our population? In particular, I've heard that many tribes have a penchant for kleptomania. If we seek to integrate them, such behavior will have a very negative impact on public perception." Pausing a moment to allow Shimmer to answer, Wilhelm continues, "Second, how should we broach this to our citizens? These aforementioned rumors will likely be widespread and I'm concerned that unrest will be a likely problem we'll need to face. If and when we finalize a treaty, we'll need to consider how to introduce the concept. Any thoughts?"
"As you say, Ma'am." Wilhelm answers Mlle. Montiff in an even tone. Arching an eyebrow as she begins to gossip, Wilhelm's curiosity gets the better of him as he asks, "Color me surprised by that indeed. I assume that you don't discuss anyone who has a need for your more... out of the ordinary... services?"
"Just an opportunity to tease and gaze at me like you just were. Did you have something else in mind? as for waiting, I suppose if I've managed nearly a month, I can find the patience for a little longer." Wilhelm feigns a look of mock solemnity as he waits for Lanya's reply.
Wilhelm maintains a steely gaze on Roan as he explains himself. The young baron listens closely to Roan's explanation for his behavior. Maintaining his silence, as the two begin to go back and forth, Wilhelm continues to listen while running through the events in his mind. He's hardly my stalking horse, Sanita. Inappropriate to sneak into a fellow councilor's quarters, but also inappropriate to threaten violence. Iomedae protect, have I inherited two toddlers in the skins of adults? Wilhelm grimaces as Roan winds up his explanation. And while I'm not enthused with her right now, I'm not sure you're better suited to the role, Roan.
Sanita's counter and further explanation does little for Wilhelm's mood as he stands and begin stalking back and forth, looking each in the eye in turn. How remarkably paranoid you are, Sanita. Your first assumption that he could be an assassin isn't unreasonable, but there must be trust between you if we're to run a country. And what is this suspicion of Lanya? Sighing in vexation, he motions for her to continue.
Shaking his head as the time flows past and the pair continue to argue back and forth. Wilhelm retakes his seat and covers his mouth with a hand. Quirking a hidden smile, Wilhelm shakes his head and slowly begins to gently shake with suppressed mirth. Finally abandoning any pretense of calm, Wilhelm lets loose a full on belly laugh. After a few moment's while he collects himself, Wilhelm stands as he wipes tears of mirth from his eyes.
"Despite that little show on my part, I'm not happy with either of you. There are a few things that need to be made clear, but the first is that you've both been behaving like spoiled prats, so far as I can tell." Pointing a finger at Roan, Wilhelm continues, "First, there are certainly better ways to arrange a meeting with someone. If you're inclined to listen, I'm sure Sanita will have a handful of favorite methods that she'll share. This is how you could have avoided this ridiculous tale. Second, I'm not thrilled to hear that you're checking in on Lanya's past behind my back. That is her business, potentially Sanita's business as spymaster and only those who Lanya wishes to share it with. Third, while you may see this as an 'altruistic' power grab, I'm not so sure that your ambition isn't playing into it. Take the time to self reflect and consider this aspect."
Turning and pointing a finger at Sanita, Wilhelm continues, "As for you, I think this whole explosion could have been avoided on your part by simply asking Roan to leave. While I understand you don't yet trust him, that would have quickly established if he was or wasn't trustworthy. As he left when you finally got around to asking him, I'm inclined to think he's reasonably trustworthy. You're disinclined to trust, I understand, but at some point the council will require your trust. You seem to be capable of trusting your spies to some degree, so kindly extend the courtesy to everyone else. It will save us all some effort."
Addressing both Sanita and Roan, Wilhelm drops the lighthearted tone he'd been using, "While I'm tempted to tie your wrists together so that you'll learn to get along by necessity, I think there's an element of domestic tranquility that I'm not willing to give up. Sanita will remain spymaster, for now, and you will continue your work, Roan. I'll be giving some thought to these matters as time goes on. I expect the both of you to behave with the decorum I'd expect of two adults. If you can't manage that, then perhaps I'll see that the council will not be filled with petulant children. You can speak to one another to resolve issues, and you don't need to come crying to me when someone else wants to play with your toys. Are there any further questions?"
Acknowledging Bej's raised hand with a nod, Wilhelm listens as Bej explains his intentions. I suppose I might have seen this coming. He's rather well suited to the role, but I can hardly blame him taking to the life he'd like. Standing and accepting Bej's handshake, Wilhelm replies with an earnest, if sad, smile, "Domierov's council will be lessened by your absence, but there's no doubt that within the next few years Vanskian's Cider will be a famous household name. We'll do our best to do you proud, Bej."
Taking a seat in Fhârn's home with a commanding view of the table, Wilhelm listens quietly to Fhârns concerns. The Six River Freedoms? I've heard of them, but I can't say I recall what they are. Frowning as Fhârn's mention of an Arcane Mark, Wilhelm strokes a chin thoughtfully. Idly as an aside as he thinks, Wilhelm opines, "It may make some sense to have the law on hand, but for now I think we've more important things to be enforcing."[/i]
Snorting in amusement as Dareon reveals he's had the 'insurrectionist' living in his home. [b]"I hadn't thought you'd had it in you to revolt against my rule so quickly, Dareon. As for how to 'deal with this', I'm inclined to suggest we simply invite her here, now. We've already taken the time to gather to discuss this, let's use the time we allotted to it's fullest. Before you fetch her, can you fill us in on what you know of this mysterious woman, Dareon?"
After frowning at Fhârn for a moment, Wilhelm snorts in amusement, "I'll stay, thank you. If this woman can kill me despite the entirety of the council being present, then she can take over. I'll check her for an aura of evil, but beyond that I don't feel significant precaution is needed."
Sanita listens, an impish grin on her face. "Actually, I trust pretty much the entire council. At least, in that I don't think they're assassins or out to kill me. Which is a small number of people. I just don't know Roan enough to trust him yet, especially not with his nocturnal activities." She dimples again, but seems to take all the criticism in stride.
She turns to Roan. "I can work with him, as long as I don't have to be looking over my shoulder for a blade, or a spy. And as long as he is willing to use some decorum in the future when he wants to ask questions. And yes, I can give him several dead drop locations to set up meetings. Oh, that reminds me, Wilhelm. I've been trying to get you alone for a bit, and with all the witnesses who overheard the end of our meeting, this gives a good excuse. Everyone will assume we're working out issues."
She stops and rewinds the music box. "I've had word that you need to be aware of. Clan Or'Fana is backing Dreven's charter. And due to a recent falling out between Kalnath and Or'Fana, the protection that Kalnath was able to afford this expedition with regards to machinations by Or'Fana is no longer possible. Unfortunately, as you may or may not know, Or'Fana has strong historical ties to the Assassin's Guild in Brevoy. So, as I warned you before, you're going to have to start taking great care with your food. We're going to have to make it announced that you have recently discovered a dietary disorder, and your food is going to have to be fixed special in order to accomodate this diet. That way we don't have to worry as much about someone poisoning half the outpost trying to kill you."
Sanita was late, due to some issues that had popped up at the last minute, but she arrives in time to catch the gist, and to hear Wilhelm's last question. "I'd be interested as well Dareon. She's been on my radar for a couple of weeks. I'd say she's skirting the edges of creating something that could turn into a political movement. No problem with that, really, but she's a firebrand, and she's very vocal. In my experience when someone like that isn't careful, they end up attracting radical elements who eventually break with the core group and form a violent extremist sub-group." She closes her eyes, and her voice goes cool and distant. "What I've been able to figure out so far is... Her name is Wyssal Sloboda. She appears to be a former slave, or rather from a former slave family. She's equating the idea of indenturement with slavery in her speeches, which is not helping. She wants people exiled, which just won't work. I suspect she's trying to make a space for herself in the new power vacuum, but then I might just be being paranoid. I've been told I'm too paranoid." A ghost of a smile displays on her face. "So I'd really like Dareon's feel on her. I have some people working on getting more detailed information. But I need more people."
Fhârn heads into the other room, where in addition to the drafting, a small makeshift kitchen has been set up. He returns with a platter filled with cups of cool water and berries.
"While we wait, let's have some refreshments."
"The Six River Freedoms essentially revolve around living a life devoid of entanglements. Freedom of speech, oathbreakers die, freedom of travel, the lack of courts, the absence of slavery and freedom of possession, as long as you can personally keep it."
"These rules work great with smaller establishments - a fixed set of behavior that all are expected to abide by keeps a group of a hundred from turning into a hundred bandits. However, it's very important that they not be implemented, at least as a whole, here."
"I'll fetch her, if I can find her."
With that, Dareon exits the council room with a tiny bow, heading quickly back to his house, looking for Wyssal. Because of his fast-walk, and the fact that he is quite out of shape, he is lacking quite a bit of breath by the time he gets home. He checks through the gate, and he goes to the bunkhouse to see if Wyssal is there. "Wyssal? Are you home?" he calls.
Wyssal peeks out, with her work clothes, and trying to clean her hands with an ink-stained apron. She was working on her printing press again.
"Dareon! How are you? Can I help you with anything?"
She will gladly accompany him to the meeting. She will insist in not changing, saying that she is what she is, and that she don't need to appear otherwise.
The first thing the others will notice, besides her small statute (only 3') is the fire in her eyes and the Rose Brooch showing on her breast.
Also the ink stain in her forehead after she pass her hand over her forehead to move her hair away.
"Greetings, my name is Wyssal Sloboda, what can I help you with?"
"Welcome, Wyssal Sloboda. I am Fhârn Uðrrúna, and as you can see, with us today are other members of the council of Domierov. It has come to out attention that you have been leaving signs and sigils all over our fledgling realm. A call or a message no doubt - so please, speak plainly and deliver this message to us."
Roan sighs, and finishes. "But as you say, milord, it shall be done. Let me know if I'm needed for anything." Roan stands waiting to be officially dismissed before leaving.
Sanita starts to speak, then holds her tongue. No use arguing, especially since Wilhelm had made his decision. She smiles, as she'd have actually been less inclined to argue had Wilhelm taken the job away from her. "Well, Roan? He's your brother, your feelings on the issue of assassins and saboteurs?"
When Bej announces his leaving, and then Vor announces the same, Sanita winces. "I hope you are both very happy in your retirement and endeavors, if anything is needed, only send a message."
Sidling up to Wilhelm, Sanita stands on tiptoes before elbowing him in the stomach to get him to bend over so her much shorter stature can reach his ear. "If I might suggest..." She whispers. "Roan would be a good replacement for either, I suspect a better replacement for Vors than Bej."
Sanita listens to the start of the flowery speech, and then tunes it out, instead studying the woman making the speech.
When the woman is done speaking, Sanita opens her eyes again, her dark chocolate eyes looking at the woman's hands, her neck, her feet, the muscles of her cheek. The words said aren't the important thing to Sanita, the way her body reacts is. Is she sincere, nervous, confident, deceptive, guileless. If Sanita could, she'd turn her ears off when people do speeches so she could watch their features with less distraction. Oooh, I need to remember to mix up a deafness extract next time.