War for the Crown #3 - The Twilight Child

Game Master Kittenmancer

Oppara, 20th of Calistril, 4718 Absalom Reckoning

Life in Oppara isn’t difficult to handle, once you’ve learned the rules: if a senator tells you that what you want to do is illegal, talk to a different one; if the district tax you pay is too high, move to the next house over; if you require a diplomat to get the upper hand in negotiations, hire your rival’s out from under her; if you need an honorable noble, promote the nearest farmer; if you make a mistake, act like it never happened until people feel awkward and follow suit; if you don’t like your past, pay a historian to write a new one; if your office needs more funding, buy a weapon and declare yourself a military branch; and if you need to keep something hidden forever, claim it’s urgent and hand it to a government official.

Oppara, the jewel of Taldor and the empire's capital. Seated on the black cliffs of the River Porthmos, the city bears all the gravitas and extravagance that 6000 years of history have conferred upon it. Today, the promise of spring is in the air on its streets and canals; although the air retains a slight chill, the trees and early flowers have started to bloom and the sun is shining. The mild weather is tempting many people outside of their homes and places of business as nobles make the most of this chance (perhaps the last for this year) to show off their winter attires before the fashion changes, while less wealthy individuals are content to soak up the golden rays as they chat with their neighbours.

This morning an envelope was delivered to you, the courier insisting that it must be entrusted to you and only to you, in person. Or perhaps you reached into your coat pocket for your handkerchief and there it was, with no inkling of how it got there.

In the envelope there is a short letter and a business card from a café called “The Green Bridge”. The card is elegant and understated, with an address in the southern part of Grandbridge, near the Gray Market. On the back of the card someone scribbled “21st of Calistril, second afternoon bell”. There is no return address on the envelope.

The letter reads:

Grape vines intertwine their way up the sides of the trellises that flank Konstiantina's balcony, and then weave across the pergola that shields her from the sun. Three stories above the cobbled street, a gentle wind sets the large leaves to shifting, so that golden coins of sunlight dance across the letter in her hand.

The young woman reads the missive twice, flips it over once to scrutinize the back, then sets the parchment down on the small, circular table upon which a battered tea set sits, a chipped plate displaying an assortment of crackers topped with butter and anchovies.

A repast she was about to slowly enjoy until the letter appeared beneath the corner of the tray, placed their, no doubt, by one of Lotheed's agents.

Leaning back in her slender chair, the young woman stares down at the street below, not seeing the traffic nor hearing the cries and clamor of the city, but rather frowning thoughtfully as she takes her thick golden braid in her hands and sets to undoing it.

A little trip. Across the city? Into the wilderness? What manner of ally would cause her benefactress to be so enigmatic?

Fingers moving dexterously, she redoes her braid, interweaving a ribbon of white down its length, and then ties it off and tosses it over a shoulder.

Second afternoon bell. That gave her but an hour to reach The Green Bridge.

No sense in waiting. Rising briskly, the young noblewoman collects her tray and, sipping at her tea as she goes back inside, sets to gathering her belongings. She'd rather arrive early and have time to evaluate the situation then arrive breathlessly as the bells toll the hour. A moment to buckle her longsword, three more to find where she'd misplaced that potion, and then with effort she swims into her chain shirt, over which she dons a loose, fashionable tunic.

So prepared, she casts one last glance over her garret, folds her cloak over one arm, and leaves with quiet but intent purpose.

"It's no use complaining, Your Grace," a small elderly woman tuts as she slowly makes her way down the cobbled streets of the Grandbridge district. A simple woolen shawl is pulled over her shoulders, and a scarf faded from innumerable washings wraps around her neck and head to protect her from the wind. "Can't believe she'd ask an old lady to go tromping through the wilderness with snow still on the ground," she mutters under her breath, but her face can't help but smile at the thought.

A hundred years and this is the first time I've had a reason to get out of this city, she thinks to herself as she walks, tucking herself out of the way of a well-dressed merchant striding down the street instinctively. Grandchildren have all grown up and left the house, affairs are in order, the Holdanes are none the wiser. Come now Lotti, you should make the most of it!

Behind her sulks a large spotted cat who pauses occasionally to yell with a sound remarkably similar to that of a baby woken too soon from a nap.

"MWAAAAAAAHHH!"

Lotti sighs at her companion's antics, turning around to face him with a grin. "You know that I would be happy to carry you, Your Grace Sir Jeffrey Wobblekins the Third, but I'm afraid that would slow us both down and then we'd never make it to the Green Bridge before they run out of cream." Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she puts her hands in the pockets of her skirt to keep them warm. "Is that what you want?"

The cat's eyes also light up at the mention of the word "cream", and his reluctance turns to eager enthusiasm in the blink of an eye. Racing ahead, he turns back to his companion and yips excitedly like one of the small dogs the noble ladies carry around in baskets and decorate with silk ribbons.

"Oh, well if you insist," Lotti replies with a well-practiced curtsy to hide her wide smile. "What's that? You think you should go on without me? Well I'll certainly be sad to see you go, but do what you must. I'm sure you can pay for that cream all on your own after all." She follows after the cat at the same steady pace, heedless of his cries for haste as she lets her thoughts wander.

Who knew there were so many coppers fallen into the cushions? At least it should be enough to pay for passage to this Ridonport. How far away is it? Of course she wouldn't mention that - not a thing nobles have to care about. And does she expect me to go on my own? Well, I suppose there are worse things...

If not for the coat of arms at the gate and 8-foot wall enclosing the grounds the one could be forgiven for mistaking the Erallan estate for a merchant's townhouse. If someone wandered by and were listening closely, they would hear the panting and scrape-thunk of steel striking a training dummy as Marius put himself through his bladework routines.

Satisfied that his wood and clothes foes were adequately chastened, the young man walks back to the chair where a towel and small pitcher of lemon water waited. Wiping his face with the towel, Marius frowns at the letter tucked beneath the pitcher, which hadn't been there when he started.

"I wish I knew how she does that," he remarks to the empty yard, cracking the seal and retrieving the business card and note. He frowns slightly after reading it, and checks the envelope fore a second note but finds none. "I hope your friends are easy to recognize, Lady Lotheed. A brief description would not have gone amiss." Tossing the towel over his shoulder the ex-soldier strides into the manor to contemplate Martella's latest task for him.

Adriel wakes up with a start, with loud banging on her bedroom door followed by laughter and footsteps running away down the university corridors. She can hear the bangs on a few other doors as they run past. 'Urgh, why would someone prank people at this time of the morning.'

She drags her feet out of bed, slips on her robe and rubs her eyes, giving up on the thought of more sleep. Curious as to the time, she opens the curtains wide to see the sun signalling that it is mid-morning already. 'Well, I suppose that I had better get started. What shall I do today, it's not like I am welcome in Dr Pelagius' class right now.'

Deciding to head to the communal dining area, she pulls on a pair of shoes and opens the door, only to find a letter had been slipped under it. Opening it with curiosity, she read's it with growing amusement.

'A little holiday indeed! Lady Lotheed clearly has a sense of humour. What's to stop me, she may be right, and if this can all blow over in my absence with her help, then all the better.'

Kn History: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Deciding against a late breakfast so that she doesn't have to face the usual questions asking her how the possible expulsion is going, she packs a bag in preparation for the trip and meeting tomorrow so she doesn't have to think of it again and heads out for a day wondering about Oppara. She ensures that before she heads to bed that evening she slips her own note under her best friend, Vincent's, door.
I won't be able to make the frivolities tomorrow Vincent. I'm off on my own little trip to Riddonport, I've never been and feel like a change of scene. Don't worry, I've not been expelled yet!

Mirann receives the missive as she takes tea with her Mistress, the Marquess deChamps. The Vudrani woman turns the letter and the card over and over in her hands, sure she missed something.

"Do you know anything about this?" she asks her patron, although she doesn't pay much attention to the response.

That afternoon she takes up the initiative. Dressed in a fine silk gown, she walks down to the Grandbridge district of Oppara, peeking her head into the Green Bridge cafè and looking for a familiar face.

Meanwhile, in a certain tailoring shop, Raesilia was just holding the next ball gown in front of her to check it for the tiniest imperfection. While it was true the store had been swamped with orders for coming Gala, that was no excuse to slack off. The store's reputation, and her own artisan's, were at stake. If they wanted to continue pandering to the wealthy and receive the benefits of such, mistakes were lethal.

The design was fairly simple. A center of red silk flowed from the bosom the entire length to the feet, while both sides curved around to the center from the back. The sides in turn were made of a white linen base embroidened with red flower patterns.

Very classically Taldan.

Very basic. Not at all congruent with's today's flair for excessiveness. It was a pre-decline design few nobles would want to be confronted with, even subconsciously.

This dress wouldn't be going to any of the major houses. Perhaps it needed something more, though the commission was technically complete? Hm. What about Lace sleeves, at least? That was a good addition. And perhaps the cleavage should be slightly more generous. That would at least give whoever was wearing it a chance to sell it before being immediately dismissed.

"Madam, I found a letter for you in your lunchbox."

She blinked. "Excuse me? Where?"

The shop's guard, Maurice, only shrugged. "No one got behind the counter 's far as I can tell. Lock was opened, though. Don't suppose my lady was planning to eat paper, by any chance?"

Eyes narrowing, she opened the letter, read it, and laughed. 'Turnabout was fair play, huh, Lady Martella? And a new commission right away? Oh, you shouldn't have!'

Hm. No details of what the task was, but a clear instruction to bring the suit and meet at a certain cafe at the specified date. Well, time to work it breakneck speed and make sure she could affrord to be there in time!

On the afternoon of the meeting, the sky is overcast and a cold breeze is picking up, which thins the crowds on the street considerably. Those entering the Green Bridge around the second afternoon bell find the little café almost entirely deserted, except for two women. One of them, clearly a member of the nobility, is seated at a table arranged for six or seven. Those who have met her before recognize her as Lady Martella Lotheed. The other woman stands a couple of steps to Lady Lotheed's left and slightly behind, dressed in an elegant serving outfit that is somewhat at odds with her muscular frame, a tea towel draped over her left arm. Her pale skin contrasts with her short, dark hair. An ornate silver serving tray is placed on the table, with a steaming pot of tea, a set of six delicate porcelain teacups, and assorted biscuits, cookies, small sandwiches and finger food all elegantly plated. On the floor there is a dark green ceramic bowl half filled with cream.

Lady Martella smiles as the first arrival enters the café. "Ah, welcome! Please, take a seat. The others should be here shortly, then we can begin." She gestures towards the serving tray. "Tea? A bite to eat?"

Lotti laughs as she surveys the scene, hands on her hips. "Goodness, my Lady - what will those busybodies across the street think if they see you having tea with little old me?" She doesn't seem to consider it her problem as she hikes up her skirt and slowly clambers up into one of the human-sized seats. "There'll be whispers that I'm not actually your maid, that I've got you wrapped around my finger somehow with some terrible blackmail, that you've finally lost your marbles and started consorting with the common folk." Finally settling into her seat, she glances down at Wobblekins. "Did you intend to drink that, or merely decorate your face with it Your Grace?" she asks. "Perhaps this is the latest fashion at the court?" This last question is pointed more at Lady Martella than the cat.

A bodyguard, or I'll eat my spellbook. She could at least try to blend in.

The cat pays Lotti no mind, inhaling the cream as if he hadn't eaten in a week.

Arriving quite a bit early, though apparently not quite early enough, Raesilia then opens the door behind Lotti and takes a moment to observe the scenery. "My, how lovely! A high tea and a new commission? You spoil me so, dear patron. I must confess I wasn't quite how how I should have dressed for this occasion, but it appears a slightly more casual one was the correct choice," she says in a polite, pleasant tone, sitting herself down on one of the chairs.

She turns to Lotti and introduces herself with a polite nod. "Hello, and pleased to make your acquiantance, my lady. Please call me Rose. A friendly toast to a cordial and beneficial future between us?"

She reaches for the teapot and offers to pour one a cup for Lotti first.

Assuming Martella herself already has tea, otherwise she offers it to her host before Lotti.

Marius steps into the Green Bridge confidently, wearing a jacket open over a dark blue and gunmetal doublet. He smiles as he sees his associate seated already.

"Lady Martella," the young soldier sweeps into a graceful bow. "I thank you for your gracious invitation. It's always a delight to be given any excuse to visit Oppara" He turns to Raesilia and Lotti and sketches a second, shallower bow. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced, but it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Marius Erallan, soon to be your local connection, I presume?" This last bit was directed at Martella with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

When appropriate, Marius takes a seat, giving Wobblekins a grin and wink when he spots the cat under the table.

When any of the other arrive Marius rises from his seat and pulls their chair out for them, if permitted.

Adriel opens the door to the cafe and takes in a deep breath, savouring the smells of pastry and hot beverages. She scans the room looking for the Lady Lotheed.

Weaving her way through the tables, she arrives at the convened meeting and curtsies slightly.

"Good afternoon all. Lady Martella, how lovely to see you again. I believe we met once at a ball but alas, I cannot recall which.." Without further ado, Adriel takes a seat next to the gentleman. "Adriel Moonflower." She adds to the other curious faces.

"May I help myself to some tea?" She asks, boldly, indicating the teapot on the table.

Konstiantina pushes open the front door carefully, and drifts forward a few feet before coming to a stop, the door swinging closed behind her, to regard the patrons and seek out her benefactress.

She's tall, startlingly beautiful, and with platinum blond hair that hangs in twin thick braids down her shoulders. Hair that seems to reflect that light in an almost metallic manner, and which frames her severe expression as she scans the light crowd.

A thick, crimson cloak embroidered with gold patterns falls from her broad shoulders like a waterfall, its fabric luxurious, and offsetting the burgundy outfit she wears beneath; the sumptuous nature of her clothing, however, contrasts with the sword belt at her hip and the hit of armor beneath her dress. Standing at the front of the Green Bridge, she radiates a quiet confidence, an inherent dignity, and perhaps... something more, that draws the eyes of those already seated within.

(Not sure what IC effect an Aura of Good has, but I thought I'd play it up just a little.)

At the sight of Lotheed, a smile transforms her face, and with a hand resting on the pommel of her blade she approaches the large table.

"Lady Lotheed," she says, voice warm and rich and husky, and her smile takes in the others gathered at the table, her eyes alighting on each in turn and affording the strangers polite nods. "Good afternoon, all."

She moves to sit, and when Marius draws back her chair, flashes him a warm smile of appreciation, murmuring, "Thank you, good sir."

Martella rolls her eyes at Lotti in mock horror. "Oh yes, what witchery, I am hexed!" She then winks. "I rarely concern myself with the opinions of busybodies, and I have it on good authority that you hold the same view."

As Raesilia and Marius come in, they are both met with a warm smile. "Rose, my dear, thank you for coming. Lord Erallan, very kind of you to make the journey. You have surmised correctly as to your role."

Adriel is greeted in a slightly more formal manner, and Martella extends a hand towards the tray in a gesture of invitation. "Please, go ahead." Turning her head slightly to her left, she adds, "Sorah, my dear, make us a fresh pot for later, will you?"

The arrival of Konstiantina stills the small talk for a beat or two, and Martella seems to stand up a little straighter as she welcomes her to the table. "Almost everyone is here, splendid."

Adriel looks around the table, trying to work out how this meeting has anything to do with a suggested break to Riddonport, but stays quiet for now, not wanting to show her lack of insight on the situation to the other strangers.

She sips her tea to hide any obvious signs of doubt.

Raesilia winks conspiratively at Adriel when their gazes meet. "Looks like our sixth guest is a tad late. Are we expecting trouble?" she then asks Martella, in between calmly sipping her own tea.

Martella rolls her eyes at Lotti in mock horror. "Oh yes, what witchery, I am hexed!" She then winks. "I rarely concern myself with the opinions of busybodies, and I have it on good authority that you hold the same view."

"My lady, what are we if not the busiest of busybodies?" Lotti answers with wide eyes. "Gossip is never quite the truth, but it tells you where to look for something interesting. Ah, but I see you have another guest." She turns and nods at the well-dressed woman approaching the table.

She turns to Lotti and introduces herself with a polite nod. "Hello, and pleased to make your acquiantance, my lady. Please call me Rose. A friendly toast to a cordial and beneficial future between us?"

"You flatter me," Lotti answers smoothly, a kind smile on her face as she accepts the teacup from Rose. "Please, call me Lotti. Might I ask how you and the Lady Martella are acquainted?"

When appropriate, Marius takes a seat, giving Wobblekins a grin and wink when he spots the cat under the table.

Wobblekins does not seem to return Marius's attention, instead rubbing himself against the legs of Adriel's chair and meowing pitifully with huge eyes. As soon as Konstiantina is seated, she also becomes a target of his opportunistic affections.

Mirann bursts in, late and out of breath. "Sorry for the late arrival," she starts, pulling off a host of shawls and scarves. "Just as I was about to leave," a breath, "my mistress, another, "asked me to sing. I thought I'd be quicker, but," she finally finishes extricating herself from her last scarf, stumbling in a full circle. "And to think, I even made the walk three times yesterday," the girl scolds herself.

She takes a seat before introducing herself. "Oh, sorry. Mirann Zalar. I, uh, live here. In Oppara. Did a few years at the Kith. They practically raised me," she titters, flapping her wrist dismissively. "You might have seen me perform, I sing and dance, but Iiiii, don't believe I've ever seen any of you before."

"And here we are, the full ensemble. Thank you all for coming. The rest of the introductions can wait until I've told you the reason for this gathering." Martella takes a sip from her tea cup, then sets it down and interlocks her fingers on the table in front of her.

"Most of you already know me, but for those who don't - I am Martella Lotheed, illegitimate scion of House Lotheed. My father was Count Mercator, and when he died my half-brother Bartelby took over the affairs of House Lotheed and told me not to return to the family estate unless I brought a valuable suitor."

She makes a face, as if to show what she thinks of that notion. "I will not let myself be treated this way. You may be aware that the ancient law of primogeniture*, which dictates the practices of inheritance, is about to be discussed in the Senate. While the amendment mostly concerns the inheritance of the Primogen Crown, if it gets voted it will set an extraordinary precedent that could well change the situation of thousands of noble women - including myself." She leans back in her chair, and smiles slightly as she looks each of you in the eye, letting the meaning of her words sink in.

"I have spoken to many senators who also believe it’s time to update the empire’s inheritance laws. The Lion and his loyalists view this growing equality movement as a personal attack, even a coup. Among these is the Earl Vernisant, the lord of Ridonport, who would readily vote against reform just to become part of the Lion’s inner circle." While she does not say the name out loud, it is easy to infer that the Lion is Grand Prince Stavian III.

"Count Orlundo Zespire, however," she continues, "is an undecided senator. Exports from his lands travel through Vernisant’s region, yet along the way many of the goods go missing as a result of canal piracy. Zespire suspects his colleague is at least negligent in allowing these crimes to transpire in his town—and possibly worse. It seems this isn’t the first misunderstanding between the two, and the count has informed me that he would be inclined to support the motion to change the law of primogeniture, should someone resolve the matter. If that also involves finding evidence that ties Vernisant to criminal elements, making that evidence public would cause the earl considerable distress and bring the count considerable joy."

Her gaze shifts to Marius. "Lord Erallan is familiar with the town and its affairs, and will help guide you. Just keep in mind that no matter what evidence you find, you’ll need to convince Ridonport’s citizens to trust you before they’ll take your word over that of General Arnisant’s descendant." She puts her hands in her lap and watches you all expectantly, inviting questions.

*"Primogeniture" is not the correct technical term, that would be "agnatic primogeniture", but the AP uses this term throughout so we'll roll with it.

Information and rolls

Ridonport:

Please make only one roll per topic - for example you have ranks in both Knowledge local and Knowledge nobility, roll only one of those, not both. Spoiler your rolls so as not to clutter the conversation/RP.

"I've never been to Ridonport," Mirann murmurs, gazing down at her lap. "Is it far?"

This might just be a chance to make a difference to Oppara. But I shouldn't look too keen, I don't want to play my hand too soon and who knows who these people around me actually are.

"This is a very interesting proposal, my Lady. Could I please ask why you have chosen to ask this particular group of strangers to support you in this delicate issue?"

Still sipping the exquisite tea of the Green Bride, Raseilia tries to keep her face neutral throughout the entire exchange but can't quite suppress a grimace when the inheritance laws are mentioned. When the conversations turn to count Zespire, she grins slightly, but doesn't interrupt.

"Do we have any further local aid in this investigation other than Lord Erallan, as qualified as he no doubt is?" she asks, nodding towards him with a smile. "I haven't been to the city myself, either. I do know it is famous for having a two hundred feet tall statue of the general, a gift from a noble of a bygone age who didn't do his research well. There is a lot of commercial value in the holidays, when this or that wealthy patron wishes to dress up said statue in whatever he wants it to promote."

Since it was Marius' role was to be their guide, she decided to leave the more important information to him, unless he somehow didn't know.

"Ridonport is about 4 days by ship. I took the liberty of booking passage for all of you on Vesper Regalia, a fast merchant ship. Captain Cadwallader leaves tomorrow afternoon." Martella pours herself another cup of tea, and Sorah swaps the pot with a fresh one.

"As to why this group - each of you has unique skills, talents, connections. And if you work together you should be able to accomplish much, not just these tasks that I entrusted to you, but perhaps more ambitious, and personal, goals. And of course, your assistance will not go unrewarded." She takes a sip of tea, briefly closing her eyes to savour the aroma.

Lotti nods and sips her tea. "Quite the endeavor," she observes. "And you're interested in sending unknown faces to Ridonport because... you are feeling particularly loose with your money? You need six lowly citizens out of town so you can do something in secret? Or is it that you don't want anyone to think this might have been your idea?" Her eyes twinkle as she takes another sip.

The fair-haired noblewoman idly pets the cat that comes sniffing at her chair legs, scritching her fingers behind its tufted ears as she considers those gathered around her. She listens intently, both to Martella's request and the subsequent questions, and seems in no rush to put her own queries forth.

Instead, she waits for a break in the conversation, and then says, voice low: "This is a worthy cause. I would gladly pursue any legitimate means to influence the vote in favor of greater justice. Thank you for thinking of me and allowing me to help."

She smiles at the others, though the expression doesn't quite touch her eyes. "I am Konstiantina Mokei, of the Mokei family, though estranged from their politics through personal choice. I look forward to traveling with you all and getting to know you better."

She then turns back to Lotheed. "This sound rather mercenary of the Iron Gar; to sell his vote on the primogeniture issue in exchange for a financial windfall is... disappointing. Though I suppose I should cease to be disappointed in Taldaan senators. That being said, given Vernisant's oppression and intimidation tactics against his peers, it's possible he's treated the people of Ridonport in similar manner. If so, it shouldn't be hard to convince them to turn against him once shown convincing evidence of his wrong doing."

THANK YOU for the note about agnatic primogeniture! That had bothered me too :)

"This sound rather mercenary of the Iron Gar; to sell his vote on the primogeniture issue in exchange for a financial windfall is... disappointing."

"I think perhaps that's an overly cynical way to view it. If Lady Martella's information is correct, we might be facing a situation as dire as the Earl Vernisant clandestinely supporting banditry--if true, that makes the Earl complicit in outright sedition. A state which plunders its people instead of protecting them deserves its destruction; if we put matters right, it shows our faction serves the ideals of just governance, and naturally Count Zespire would support those who've proven themselves honorable." Marius eases back in his chair slightly and mulls the task over for a moment.

"Of course that's assuming the situation is what we suspect--or that we can prove anything even if it is. I relish the challenge."

Konstiantina listens gravely as Marius speaks, nodding her agreement as he goes.

"Well said, sir. And you've elucidated the very reasons I am eager to be of assistance. However. That does not change my opinion on Zespire's request. He could be in favor of justice and women's rights regardless of incidental banditry. That he ties his vote to being done a favor - even if it is a just one - speaks of a quid pro quo exchange."

She then raises a hand to forestall further argument and smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry. I grew up teasing ulterior motives from from seemingly altruistic ploys. My opinion doesn't warrant further discussion. The mission is a noble one, and I don't want to give the impression I think otherwise."

"That is an elegant way of saying so Ms Mokei, no need to apologise at all. This skill you have may be very useful indeed." Adriel smiles at Konstiantina and winks conspiratorially.

"Martella, can we call you Martella? Is there anything else you deem that we should no before setting off on this errand? If everyone agrees to join of course."

"I don't agree with this standpoint, miss Mokei. Count Zespire isn't a coward or someone who'd sell his influence for mere gold. You need to realize what it means to vote in favor of those rights," 'Rose' cuts in, some steel creeping into her tone. "This equallation is seen as a diminishment of power for those currently having it, and is taken as a personal attack on the conservative block, including High Strategos Maxillar Pythareus - the same military leader that almost all the large Taldan noble families have currently sworn their allegiance to. Now excluding, perhaps, count Zespire."

She looks around to each of those seated at the table. "That he is even willing to consider a different path takes a great amount of courage. It isn't unlikely that severe retribution would fall upon him for doing so, either by military force or some indirect sanctions. The very lives of his entire familiy are at stake."

Standing up, she raises her tea cup as a measure of a toast. Going further, she speaks with a certain inner fire and conviction. "You should see this as a critical opportunity - one that can shape the future of the country! Count Zespire is waiting on some signal that Eutropia's side in this conflict isn't helpless - that he wouldn't stand alone if it came to a military repercussion. And we, in turn, need him to be our military commander just as much! Very few people on our side of this have proven themselves in combat and leadership as he has. Please, will you bury these negative feelings towards him in the deepest corner of your mind before we set off? We really cannot afford to lose him to some off-handed insult to the wrong person!"

Finally, she looks at Martella. "Isn't that right? The underlying reason you take to unknown, yet promising outsiders to do this is so that princess Eutropia's side has plausible deniability in case things go wrong, and isn't at risk of losing Count Zespire's support."

Martella sits up straight in her chair as Raesilia gives her speech, her eyes darting towards the entrance. As if following an unspoken signal, Sorah takes a few steps forward, interposing herself between the door and the group at the table.

"Ah, Rose, you are full of fire. But what you need to learn, my dear, is when to keep your cards close to your chest." She smiles at Raesilia to take the edge off the chastisement.

She sighs, leaning back in her chair and toying with a bracelet, appearing to carefully choose her words before speaking again. "Our Rose is not entirely mistaken, and although this has tipped my hand rather sooner than I had intended, I trust you to be honourable individuals. It is perhaps too soon to talk of conflict and sides, but yes, I support the Lioness in her bid for a fairer inheritance law, and hopefully a fairer governance." She glances at Lotti as she continues. "What we are doing is neither secret, nor illegal, but it should be discreet. With regards to the situation in Ridonport, we hold the moral upper ground, and I trust you to consider that when planning your course of action. As to why Count Zespire would or should support us, both Lord Erallan and Rose have the right of it - he is waiting to see if our words are backed by actions, or if we are not just another faction grasping at power for power's sake."

Opening her hands to encompass the group, she continues. "And yes, the reason I selected you is because you are relatively unknown to the major players, or else your family affiliations provide a useful decoy. But make no mistake, should you accept this job, you will be working for me. And above all else, your actions should be subtle. Do not even hint at a connection with the Lioness, and use supreme discretion when discussing your plans and your goals."

She pauses for a few moments, letting her words sink in and making space for any questions that might arise. "As to what else you need to know, well. I have prepared a few notes about the area. I suggest you start with the General Arnisant Museum and Historical Residence. Should you need funds to prepare for the trip, I can provide that, within limits." She retrieves a scroll case and places it on the table.

Everyone can read under the spoilers about Ridonport, Earl Vernisant and Count Zespire. Additionally, you learn the name of the museum curator in Ridonport, Cincia Reviamo, who may be able to help you. See also the linked NPC tracker at the top of the game.

Ah, oops? :')

Rose blushes and sits down a little sheepishly. "My apologies, my lady. I inferred and said too much. It appears I still have much to learn and will take your advice to heart."

She looks around again and settles her gaze on the refreshments. "Ah, would any of you good lords and ladies wish any more of the chocolates before I finish them? They are quite heavenly!"

"Yes please, Rose. I can never say no to good chocolate." Adriel replies quickly, aiming to help Rose forget about the moment. She carefully selects her chocolate, taking time over the decision before settling on a burnished bronze ball of chocolate.

"So, ladies and gentleman. Shall we all agree to meet on this Vesper tomorrow afternoon? I am sure we all have preparations to make? "

She sensually pops the chocolate in her mouth whole in an entirely un-ladylike fashion and savours it.

"I see what you mean Rose, heavenly."

Marius gives a small wave to politely decline the chocolates, but Adriel's ostentatious enjoyment makes him blink uncertainly a few times. "Ah. Well, I--perhaps just one then."

Anything in particularly we need to do before boarding the Vesper Regalia tomorrow?

Konstiantina eyebrows rise slowly as Raesilia speaks her piece, and clearly indicate her astonishment as the young lady rises to raise her tea cup in a toast. She remains silent, however, offering no rebuttal, and inclines her head in acknowledgment when Lotheed gives her response.

When Raesilia offers the chocolates, she leans forward to take one, smiling warmly at the other lady. "I applaud your passion, Lady Talbot. Perhaps my upbringing has made me over cynical. Thank you for your explanation."

She then looks to Lotheed. "Can we get the route that Zespire's traders take when passing through Ridonport? Have there been any survivors? If so, have they reported on where the ambushes took place, what manner of foes attacked them, or anything else of use?"

Giving Adriel a small, grateful smile for the assist, yet also a tad confused over just how much the other girl seemed to either push or actually enjoy this - and seeing the same doubt on Marius - Raesilia felt that a quid pro quo was perhaps in immediate order.

Luckily, Konstiantina provided a further change of topic to a good, relevant point of this mission. "Good questions, Lady Mokei. Personally, I would also like to ask what exactly 'handling this with supreme discression' entails. Specifically, how much of this success do you want to be traceable to someone, and to who, lady Martella? For instance, should we use faked identities of some kind?"

She rubbed one of her temples, thinking. "After all, If we do uncover a bandit operation and stop it, that will make an enemy of House Vernisant. Well, more so, I suppose, but it at least invites some kind of reprisal. However, if we never reveal who we are, would it still achieve the desired effect? Are you and yours prepared to handle the aftermath, my lady? Or should we use misdirection and point the blame to a convenient third Major house, perhaps instigating infighting among your enemies?"

I don't need specific preparations before heading out, I believe.

Mirann nervously eats the chocolate, humming a peculiar tune and keeping her head down for most of the conversation. At a quiet moment, she clears her throat and speaks. "Ah, Lady Lotheed? Do you suspect, er, I mean, should we be prepared to, defend ourselves? With, er, murder and suchlike? I ask because, this, this comes across just like one of those stories you hear about the Lion Blades, and, well," she blushes and looks to the side of the room with a queer look, "in those stories they usually have to kill people."

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Marius cocks his head to the side slightly, looking intently at Miran before smiling kindly. "I won't say with certainty that we won't have to cross blades with anyone, but if so it would likely be the bandits themselves. Our wits will serve us better in this; even if guilty, the Earl is far too powerful and well-connected for us to battle him directly. Even the notorious Lion Blades do most of their work with discretion and subtlety, I've no doubt. We should follow their example."

Martella nods at Marius as she begins to answer the questions. "A good question, and a good point. I certainly do not believe that you should be unprepared for any eventuality, including 'crossing blades' as Lord Erallan puts it, but that should be only as a last resort and I recommend refraining from actually killing anyone. Even if you encounter the bandits, capturing them so they can offer information and testimony would be far more valuable than killing them."

She smiles and gestures at Sorah, who disappears for a few moments and then returns with another plate of beautifully decorated chocolates. "As to Rose's questions, it would be perhaps better for the moment to pose as a group of concerned Empire citizens. The locals are not powerless, as recent history showed us, so I'm quite certain that once they are presented with sufficient evidence they can and will address the matter. The suggestion of blaming a third party is interesting, certainly, but unless you have supreme confidence in pulling it off, I would avoid that as well." She gazes calculatingly at the tray of chocolates, selecting one and placing it on her tea saucer next to the teacup. "Speaking of the bandits, I am afraid that I do not have a lot of details around those incidents, save the mention of canal piracy. I am sure that you can find out more 'at the scene', as they say."

"What we are doing..." Quite the charmer, she is. Act as if we've already accepted her offer and we're that much more likely to agree with her.

"I do a question..." Lotti adds out loud, waiting for all these young tall-folks to finish squabbling. "Why would you expect to find evidence of criminal activity - and criminal activity that might be tied back to an earl, no less - at a history museum?" She casually pulls Wobblekins into her lap before the cat can jump onto the table and try some of the chocolates himself.

Carefully eyeing the cat, Adriel sets her focus on Lotti.

"I am presuming, Ms....?I'm sorry, I forgot your name. I'm presuming that Martella here has some sort of valuable inside information"

Adriel watches Martella Lotheed closely as she answers.

SM: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

Lotti smiles kindly and pats the elf's knee. "Oh, I would certainly hope so dear."

Are all these young people like this? Does nobody bother hiding anything anymore? Goodness, Martella might as well paint a target on her back if they keep saying everything out loud like this where other people can hear.

Lotti savors another sip of tea, then looks back up at Adriel. "Oh! You asked me a question and I simply forgot about it. Old age does have a way of stealing memories after all. But never mind that - you can call me Miss Qeb."

Martella gives Lotti an innocent look. "Did I say that? No, I expect the evidence to be found elsewhere, if it exists, but you may find Miss Reviamo a useful source of information on the goings-on in town. I heard some rumours that she is not entirely happy with how Earl Vernisant is treating the museum."