Releasing his grip on his falcata's hilt, Marius studies Araig carefully where he lay in Mosle's arms. "I don't know. It seems the transformation took months--it may take the same for it to reverse? Only time will tell, I'll keep in touch with the priest in Oppara in case their services become necessary."
He allows himself a small smile of satisfaction at the thought of the curse's unraveling. So many problems have come back to this curse--if we're careful we may kill three birds with this singular stone.
Lotti watches the nobleman with her divinations, looking for a change in the auras surrounding him. "Indeed..." she murmurs distractedly.
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While the shreds of the curse still linger about the baron, the heavy shadow that lay over him is lifted.
Frater Mosle calls for the other guards, and between them they carry the weak and bewildered Araig to a more suitable resting place. Arabella fidgets for a moment before she begins to pace the vast hall, avoiding the patches of webbing on the pillars and furniture.
"What a mess he's made... It will take us forever to clean up."
Master Mosle returns after a few moments, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Oh, my ladies, my lord, I cannot thank you enough! We was ready to spend the rest of our lives tending to him - or, well, I was..." He puts an arm around Arabella's shoulders, squeezing her to his chest briefly before letting go. "I sent one of the men with a message to Caph- to Baronet Vort. In the morning we'll start cleaning up the village and making it ready for the people to return." He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and bows deeply. "We are forever in your debt. Anything you need, anything at all, name it and we will do our utmost to accomplish it."
The next morning, Araig emerges feeling much more like himself, many of the curse's physical manifestations beginning to fade from his body. He expresses his profound gratitude as well, and embraces his sister with genuine affection.
"Frater has told me about everything you've done, and - well. Words are not enough to thank you."[b] He winks. [b]"One good thing about my town turning into a spider-infested haunt is that the tax collectors haven't set foot in here in a while. And I don't feel particularly beholden to the Count, seeing how he hasn't deigned to send any help or even inquire after my well-being. So, you can have all the coin meant for him, and more."
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Marius nods in acceptance of the Baron's thanks, and his gifts. "Actually, my lord, there was another matter I had hoped to gain your assistance with. I hope you'll not think us crass and transactional, but your aid could be just the additional support needed to tip the scales. Given that you've been...indisposed, for some time, what do you know of recent events in Oppara?"
Marius succinctly explains the events of the Senate Massacre and the subsequent state of Taldor--including his own personal loyalty to Princess Eutropia. He figures that if anyone would be comfortable with openly opposing the Count, it would be the Baron who was totally ignored in his time of need. He even explains the mechanism
"We have rendered assistance to many of the other nobles in Meratt County, but we're treating symptoms rather than root causes--the Count's depraved indifference to the well-being of his subjects, noble and commoner alike. Meratt County is long past due for reform, and with your help I believe we can make a better future for us all."
In the aftermath of the curse removal, Velvet approaches Arabella. "That was great. You could really see and feel your affection to your brother! I believe we all owe you our thanks as well. Even with him unconscious that took a great deal of bravery." She finishes with a pleased smile towards the girl.
'Which reminds me...'
She excuses herself to go find Lisa. "Ah, Miss Lombardi? Might I compliment you on your excellent peptalk to Arabella earlier? I was not expecting such warm words from..." She pauses as she seems to search for words, only to shrug and give an apologetic smile. "Well, such storied Courtesan nicknamed the Twilight Temptress. Yet you were genuine just then, were you not?"
The next day comes and the small skeleton crew of the town had done what it could to make the uncursed village as pleasant as they could. It was a worthy use of their time - for now. But it was nagging in her mind; the urgent sense of pushing for quicker, more decisive action, of gathering more allies and assets to use in the coming conflict.
Her gaze lingers on Marius as the Count gives them their reward and makes his distate for Bartelby know. She opens her mouth to speak...
...But is beaten to the punch by Marius, who does in fact rise to the occasion without further prodding.
For now.
Yet a slight grin forms regardless.
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Lisa cocks her head slightly confused as Rose's instructor approaches for an awkward confrontation, then she laughs. "Do you believe use ladies of the night to be devoid of such feelings? If anything my time dealing with hardship and passion in equal measure has brought me to be more genuine with my intent than anything. And besides, sometimes a word from the heart is more motivating than any logic... wouldn't you agree? Or has your line of work kept you from experiencing such heartfelt emotion and kept you from being your truest self?"
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”Do you believe us ladies of the night devoid of such feelings?”
Velvet is quick to hold up her hands. ”No, of course not! …Though I suppose I walked into that one. It was merely a heartfelt compliment; it is one thing to read about how the infamous Twilight Temptress truly is, or can be, more accurately, in Rose’s letter and another thing to experience it in person. Perhaps that is less tactful of me; I suppose I just call it like I see it. All this talking around in the dragon in the room… I can stand it to a degree, but in the end I am more of a woman of action.”
”…Or has your line of work kept you from being your truest self?”
The Shelynite raises an eyebrow at this, amused. ”A very interesting question even outside of the implications of asking it. What makes one truly themselves? There are many aspects that form one’s personality, even more that form an entire person. As best I can tell, the only way to judge would be to If they ever make a decision that is less in line with the decisions they have made thusfar. Then someone could say that 'it isn’t like them'. But is it really? As they still made that decision. Does it mean they’ve grown discontent with whom they were? Bored perhaps? Still developing themselves? Or is there outside influence or even control? Most of which borders on discussions regarding whether there is such a thing as free will against a set fate…”
She seems to ponder this momentarily. ”But I won’t insult your intelligence; both of us know that answer was deflection. It is in fact partly because of my work that I wished to talk to you.” Her friendly demeanor fades then and is replaced by a much more serious, harder look. ”As I am a problem solver and we have an immediate issue; The Night Swan. Aside from her threats, she stole from both Rose and yourself. That makes it personal to me to a degree. And regardless of how dangerous she is or isn’t, I don’t like waiting around for her to make the first move. Which is why I wished to ask your advice and perhaps help. You have more experience in intrigue than any of us excluding perhaps Miss Qeb. Some say you are even supernaturally gifted at it.”
”So think with me, please. We know from Marius’ recent investigation and her threat note that The Night Swan, a very prolific thief and –at least through the actions of the actual swan, Atratus- a known killer, harbors Galtan anarchist sympathies. She is set on killing or removing all nobles from the land. And while we don’t fully know who she is, the person Rose suspects it to be is being courted by Titus Lotheed, himself a major Noble who likely tried to kill all of you at least once. As such, ironically, he himself is perhaps courting someone who secretly means to kill him. All this while popular propaganda about her striking at the established order is being spread through an unknown publisher’s intermediaries, while Lucrezia’s source of wealth remains non-descript, her wherabouts a number of recent months remains likewise unknown and her penchant for jewelry seems to remain - the latter assuming it *is* her.”
Her gaze grows distant, calculating. ”Knowing this, what do you believe we should do? Half-formed ideas flit through my mind. Such as attacking The Night Swan’s so coveted reputation as a just rebel by spreading rumors of her bedding and being a pawn of Titus Lotheed, which should introduce a host of personal and public problems to both of them. Of having Lucrezia watched and seeing if she makes any strange moves under the resulting pressure. At the very least it might buy more time as our main enemies here investigate these rumors and perhaps eachother. But again, I know there are other options, and I am not as seasoned at this as you are.”
She waits to hear Lisa’s opinion.
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The courtesan patiently waits through Velvet's deflections and questions gauging the woman as she does.
"My, my Raesilia darling. What an interesting 'teacher' you have. Certainly more than meets the eye, but then, so were you."
"Well, for starters thank you for speaking so highly of me but, I am no spy master. My skills are in the extraction of information and plying others, bending their will to serve my needs. As such, I am much more inclined to think of how we can use this little birdie to our advantage." Lisa licks her lips as some truly devilish ideas come to mind.
"After all, we know that she is violent... AND she IS close to one of the Lotheeds we seek to dispatch. If we can play them against one another then the best case scenario is they both take each other out! Your rumor idea was good but what if we twist the source? Make it sound as though the rumor comes from Titus himself? Simultaneously, we could spread the opposite rumor that the Swan is merely using Titus as an in to higher society and better targets, that he is beneath her and she is disgusted every time she allows him to lay his slimy paws on her? That she believes he is an idiot and fool and will dispatch of him swiftly once his usefulness has run its course?" Lisa hums maliciously at the idea. "Yes, I think that would work quite well, especially seeing as I'm sure neither is too terribly far from the truth from each other's perspective."
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Velvet grins widely at this. "Why, miss Lombardi, I do believe I like the way you think. Why go with just one or two rumors when you can spread six increasingly dramatic ones at the same time? And since neither of them voices an objection, who am I to do so? I suggest we work out the details over tea tomorrow, if that is agreeable to you."
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Baron Araig Telus is rather shocked at the events of the past few months, and he takes a few moments to absorb it all. "The Grand Prince, dead? And... the Senate - after they voted... Forgive me, this is a lot to take in." He stares of into the distance, the right side of his face twitching. The physical remnants of his curse haven't quite faded yet, and at times tremors pass through his body while his skin seems to shift.
"Well, I can't say that I cared for politics, even before... But you saved my life, so I trust you with whatever you intend to do. I have to put my own lands in order first, after so many years of ruin and neglect, but you shall have my support, whatever you require."
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Lisa giggles playfully as their new companion and she seem to find common ground. "Why tea sounds lovely! Jasmine is a favorite of mine but I'd love to experiment a little if you have something you'd like to introduce me to."
Lisa giggles playfully as their new companion and she seem to find common ground. "Why tea sounds lovely! Jasmine is a favorite of mine but I'd love to experiment a little if you have something you'd like to introduce me to."
"Ah, Jasmine, always a good choice! Hm, something new to try? I can heartily recommend Matcha; an exotic Tian-Xian tea variant. First harvest, twice-shaded Camellia leaves. Infused in fresh spring water - boiled and then cooled for exactly one minute, of course. I would settle for nothing less," The woman smiles warmly. "It tastes like mystery; rich but unfathomable, not bitter, sour, salt or even sweet, but something else entirely. Of course, it is a tad expensive... but what fun is there in life if one doesn't indulge every now and then? They say it also has medicinal properties and relaxes the mind as well as the body." She chuckles. "Thereby strengthening my excuse to myself, I'll admit."
"I have to put my own lands in order first, after so many years of ruin and neglect, but you shall have my support, whatever you require."
"Thank you Baron, that is a most generous offer. The specifics of it can wait for now; please rest and focus on your recovery - and that of your lands. We will contact you when the time comes," Velvet anwers, giving the noble a polite bow.
Later, when the group sets out from the town, convinced Mosle and his team could do the rest of the cleanup, she turns to rest of the group. "All right. We have Baron's Telus' explicit support. That would leave Baron Okerra and Baroness Voinum as the other powerful locals we would like backing us. If it were up to me, I would focus on gaining either of their allegiances next. We know that Baron Okerra is dealing with rumors that he is illegitimate, while Baroness Voinum seems to want to pretend she doesn't have a problem with the town of Sotto having issues with tax collectors."
She looks around to see what the others felt the next step should be.
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Returning to Stachys after a few days away really brings into focus just how much the place has improved in the last couple of months. The hardscrabble hamlet has become a village, with people from elsewhere in the county coming to settle in outlying farms that have been empty for years, and new houses going up in Stachys proper almost every week.
Among those arrivals, a scruffy, unwashed man hobbling on a pair of crutches to make up for his missing leg is begging on the side of the road leading into Stachys, asking for spare coins or a hot meal. When asked, he says his name is Borget and that he used to live in Lotheedar. He went off to serve in the Phalanx, lost his leg, and now he's returned to find his family farm seized for back taxes.
At the newly built public house, the common room is full of very animated people, shouting and clamoring. Serious crimes are rare in Stachys, and this time someone has been murdered. A red-eyed, red-faced woman is screaming at a harried Onora Piscum.
"He killed my brother! You know he did! He should be put to death! That would be justice!"
Onora seems relieved at the sight of the group returning, explaining the event that has apparently taken place in their absence. "It's Partulles. Partulles Mayne. Nobody likes him much, and he don't much like nobody. Known to skimp on deals, and if other people's animals wander onto his land, he keeps them and it's a pain to get him to return them." The half-elf sighs. "And this time it looks like one of those arguments has turned violent. A goatherder driving her goats by his lands told me that she saw Partulles and a farmer named Ershal arguing. Later, when I stopped by to check, I ran across Partulles trying to bury Ershal's body, so I arrested him. The body is at the temple, but it was plain to see that he was killed by a powerful blow to the head."
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"Lord Erallan? I admit I feel for this man, to lose his leg in service of Taldor and return only to face such a predicament," Velvet says to Marius as the group returns to the bustling village, seeing the beggar on the street as a sort of relic of its somber past. "Was there not some form of arrangement in place to compensate veterans meeting such a fate, if only a stipend? You were in the Phalanx yourself, were you not?"
Still, a man's word didn't make it true, and it wouldn't to to rush to a course of action. Dressed in practical travelling clothes over a thin mithral underlay, Velvet makes it a point to ask around the town and tavern for the background on him and his family. Then she thinks of whether some local rule or custom could be exploited for his benefit and Marius' popularity, if one such existed.
Looking up from her coffee, enjoying relative anonimity for all it was worth in the rare moments of peace granted to her, the teacher sighs and pushes it away with a look of regret. "That certainly seems damning, but there are other explanations we'd have to exclude. Such as that Ershal had an unfortunate fall, and Partulles tried to hide it as he was afraid no one would believe his word on it. If we cannot, though..." She shakes her head. "Please send my condolances to Ershal's family. I know too well how hard it is to suddenly lose someone so important to you. In the meantime, I'll ask around. Perhaps the church can help us investigate the murder scene."
Velvet manages to find out that the man's family has taken refuge with his brother-in-law's family in Stachys, and with a little persuasion a place can be found for him as well.
Partulles Mayne agrees to speak with Velvet and give his side of the story. The half-orc claims that Sutor's mule wandered into his garden and ate a fair supply of his turnips, so he intended to keep the beast in the turnips' place unless Sutor paid him 6 gold pieces for the animal ("Well below market price"). He has no idea how Sutor ended up dead on his property, but he knew he'd be blamed for it, so he decided to hide the body.
Ershal Sutor was a widower of fifty-something winters, survived by his sister and his three kids who all live outside the county. He was a hard-working, gods-fearing man who mostly kept to himself.
Festo Mise is unable to add any details to what Velvet has already ascertained about the unfortunate Ershal's body - the blow to his head was made by something round, like a club or a mace. He agrees to assist with ensuring that the accused gives a truthful testimony.
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"You found your neighbor dead on your land, and fearing you'd be blamed to chose to behave as suspiciously as possible?" Marius struggles to keep the skepticism from his face and voice, but the story is a difficult one to swallow. "Tell me, where on your land did you find his body? Was he near the property line, near your barn, somewhere else?" He stares hard at Mayne, making it clear that dissembling or misdirection would not fly.
"'e was near the barn," is Partulles Mayne's response. Marius does not get the impression that the man is lying.
"Look, you try bein' the only one with orc blood in yer veins in twenty miles, an' I know people don't like me. What was I supposed to do?"
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“Where might the offending mule be?” Lotti asks, a perfectly innocent expression on her face. Wobblekins likewise looks perfectly innocent sitting at her feet.
Once introduced to the beast of burden, Lotti clears her throat and begins gently brushing its coat. I’m told you like turnips,” she says, pitching her voice lower and smoothing out the harsher consonants. One hand slowly dips into her pocket and produces a sugar cube remarkably similar to those served with tea at Marius’s manor. “What happened to you yesterday? Your two-leg, what about him?”
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The mule is delighted by the sugar cube, and spends a few moments day-dreaming about turnips. When it becomes apparent that none are forthcoming, it snorts, and shakes its head.
"Two-leg shouts, hits me. After I eat the turnips, two-leg pulls at me, wants me to come with him. Hit me again, so I kicked him. He fell down, I eat more turnips."
"Can you ask her if we can check her rear hooves, Miss Qeb? In return for some more treats? Just to be sure - if that kick killed Sutor, there may be some dried blood left on them. We should probably get Miss Piscum to witness it herself if we find any," Velvet reasons, after pausing to wince at the thought of having one's skull bashed in by an equine kick to the head.
"Right, what do we do from here? Mayne might be innocent of the murder, but his behavior of holding the animal he didn't own captive still contributed to Ershal's death, and he did try to hide the body and the evidence. But Ershal Sutor himself isn't without blame either, with him both allowing the mule to leave his land in the first place, and then his abuse of it leading to the kick that killed him." She sighs and gives Marius a look of sympathy. "I don't envy your position as judge here, Lord Erallan."
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"What was I supposed to do?"
"Bring the matter to Honora Piscum--or myself!" Marius snaps, then visibly straightens and composes himself. Sighing in exasperation, the nobleman nods his thanks to Lotti and spends a time mulling over the problem.
"You did not murder Master Sutor," he addresses Partulles Mayne. "But your actions were an escalation that led to his death. Even a great many turnips is not equal to the value of a mule, making your claim of compensation unwarranted--and in seeking to reclaim his rightful property Sutor lost his life. A tragedy, and an easily avoidable one at that." He holds Mayne's gaze for a several heartbeats. "I don't doubt that you've been the recipient of others' prejudices and unkindness, and I am sorry for that. But gods damn it all man, we could have just levied a fine for the cost of the turnips and instead a man is dead! It did not have to come to this! So here's what will happen: you will pay a fine and provide labor to Sutor's family three days out of the week through the end of the harvest season, or equivalent value in coin, goods, or other services--subject to Mrs. Sutor's preferences and Piscum's approval of the fairness of the exchange. No one will go hungry on my watch. And then I will consider the matter to be settled, Mr. Mayne, and that goes for everyone else: I realize that no coin or service can make up for the death of a loved one, and I wish to the Goddess this hadn't happened, but none here have the power to undo what has been done."
His stern gaze sweeps the assembled crowd. "There will also be no retaliation against Master Mayne. You do not have to get along, but you are neighbors and Taldans and will act with honor. Questions?"
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Although both Partulles and Sutor's sister grumble and shoot dark glares at each other, an agreement is reached. Presented with the testimony from the mule, its hoof still bearing traces of dried blood, and Partulles's own testimony under divine scrutiny, the villagers accept that the half-orc did not commit the murder, although they still blame him for the death. But between the fine and the community service, they are satisfied with the judgement, and Partulles seems relieved to not face execution.
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The day after the trial, Velvet, dressed in her travelling outfit takes a final sip and places her cup on the table with a sway of finality. "All right. It's time we brought all this to a close." She says, and looks at the others one in turn. "Even though my stay here has been short, It's clear you've done a lot of good for the people. It's taken a lot of precious time and resources, but the result is there. For them at least - whether they are too proud to openly admit it or not. Local public opinion is likely to be in your favor."
"Unfortunately, we are still faced with this," She continues, gesturing towards the political map of Taldor, with its many, many factions now vying for power. "Each of you is a highly talented individual. You are needed elsewhere - I am needed elsewhere." "Not babysitting a pet project in the middle of nowhere or look after a questionaly suicidal walking complication." She thinks, but continues evenly. "Martella and the Princess are waiting on us. We don't know how long they can stall this mess, nor what time remains until the Night Swan attacks or Count Lotheed catches wind of our intent." She counts the points with her gloved hand as she makes them. "So I ask: do we have a plan for our actual mission, and if yes, what is it? You've spent two whole months here knowing at least the gist of the goal. But I haven't been informed of anything resembling a detailed plan on the matter, nor have I heard any advanced discussion on our ultimate objective."
She waits in case there is a response. "As I see it, the only support we currently lack is that of Baroness Voinum. So I would suggest we drop all other rumors and focus on the troubles in Sotto, while we ready our forces and support. And then plan to strike right afterwards."
"Of course, if we aim to do so, we should plan our next move in advance. Martella asked us to steal the charter of Sterwardship from the palace of Birdsong and to destroy the teleportation circle for Count Lotheed's uncle. Those two tasks can be done with an infiltration approach, especially since you seem to be invited guests. The trickier part seems to be how to remove Count Bartelby and his Seneshal from the land."
Sea green eyes, ones that seem to slightly change colour depending on the angle, glance around for sentiments on the matter, before lingering on Lisa. "Let me ask plainly: are we going to kill him? As much as Martella prefers us not to, Miss Lombardi has made no secret of her Vendetta and wish to do otherwise. As such, there is a conflict of interest in our own group that has never been adressed - and it is probably best handled now rather than then. For instance, Miss Lom- Lisa, would you accept any other outcome than Bartelby's death?"
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Lisa puzzles over Velvet's question taking a long drag of her pipe before settling on an answer she had been chewing on for some time. "We needn't, necessarily, kill the bastard. We simply have to ensure that the results of our actions lead to him believing death would have been a preferable option... Stealing his title, land, and wealth is a good start. The complete and utter annihilation of his reputation would be a good follow up. And the coup de grace would be the removal of his personal ties. He seems closest to his steward. We can kill him. Preferably in front of our good Count. Then I would be satisfied." The courtesan smirks wicked.
"He shall know loss as I have."
"As for the rest, we'll I've never planned a raid before but I believe we should understand the facts first. What must we do to destroy this teleportation circle? As I hear it, if that activates our plan is dead in the water so I believe solving this issue is of paramount importance."
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"No deaths, if it can be avoided," Marius cuts in firmly. "Popular support or not, we're on shaky legal ground as it is, and we will still need our neighbors' support after the fact. Avoiding bloodshed is a almost certainly our best bet--and not everyone at the Palace is our enemy. For the sake of the servants and the Count's aunt, no lethal violence." He turns to face directly towards Lisa. "I have no desire to deny you your goals, Miss Lombardi, but we are are here as representatives of the Crown Princess and our actions reflect upon her. He'll be leaving the Palace stripped of wealth and power, and we may even persuade Martella to arrange his loss of rank as well. And Gul may well force our hand, but please Lisa, no deaths."
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Lisa's foot taps incessantly against the floor as she hears Marius out, her amber eyes firmly fixed on the man, her grip tightening on her pipe until...
"Unacceptable!" Lisa barks slamming her pipe down onto the table as she rises to her feet and glares at Marius intensely. "You know what I've lost. You know how much effort I've gone through to even the score. How my skin has crawled as I've gotten close with that insufferable man. And you want him to just walk away with a slap on the wrist and expect me to be satisfied with that?" She slams her hand down once more atop the table causing her wine glass to to and spill over its contents. "UN-AC-CEPTABLE!"
"I've already compromised here by agreeing that the Count be let to live here, yet you deny me even this?" Lisa growls through gritted teeth. "Is this not a war Marius? A shadow war but a war never-the-less. And in war... You kill your enemies. Do you not? Soldier?"
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Lotti raises an eyebrow at Velvet’s questions, but says nothing as she sips her tea. She glances down to her hands, notices them shaking ever so slightly and makes a conscious effort to still them before the clatter of cup on saucer betrays her. She tries to listen as Lisa speaks, but the words pass through one ear and out the other without leaving more than a soft impression.
Don’t make any sudden movements. The scene plays out yet again in her mind’s eye - townsfolk pressed up against each other in the newly-built public house, the manslaughtering mule penning her in on the other side, and Marius standing before her. Between her and the door. Trapping her. She tries to calm her thoughts, but the most she can do is just keep repeating to herself. Stay still. Don’t make them suspicious. The magic locks her jaws, her tongue, her thoughts with inexorable iron. They could ask me anything. I don’t have to answer to them. But they’ll become suspicious. So don’t make them suspicious. Don’t make them ask questions.
A tear starts to well in her eye as Marius speaks, declaring in a loud - too loud! - voice that there will be no murder. She fights back the urge to brush it aside - What if someone sees? They’ll ask if I’m crying, and this damned spell won’t even let me say it’s just the dander from the mule, and then they’ll be concerned, and that’ll lead to more questions, and then- She cuts off the thought. The only control she has left, after surrendering it all to someone she hasn’t known for even a year who could ask her anything. The feeling of powerlessness is hardly unfamiliar, but never before has it held her so rigidly and unyieldingly. She tries not to panic as voices rise, tries to will the tear back into its source, tries to take a breath without screaming -
- and sets down her teacup on the table. “On a less personal note, teleportation circles are quite the advanced enchantment,” she states, nodding towards Velvet. “A permanent one even more so - and more expensive than a lord’s holdings. I cannot speak for this one specifically, but if I had made such an investment I would not want it easily ruined. I would expect it to be warded, guarded, and very likely carved deeply into ir- stone.” She catches herself, changes the last word before it can fully escape her lips. “It might be possible to persuade Bartleby to show us, as part of a tour through the estate. I would suspect, given its cost, that he would be rather proud of it.”
"So Lisa's goal is to utterly break the Count and have him experience more severe loss than just a monetary one," Velvet cuts in before things escalated further. "And Marius is willing to compromise up to stripping him of everything so long as Gul Guisarme - among others - is not killed." She nods and smiles slightly. "Good. We're already getting closer to a solution."
She mulls things over as an idea begins to form. "Perhaps we can further reconcile the two. Assuming we can capture the both of them alive, we could ask Martella to turn Gul into a political prisoner while forcing Bartelby into exile. With, of course, the threat of that if he ever speaks of it or returns to Taldor, Gul would be executed. Assuming Bartelby truly cares for Gul, he would forever lose both him and access to his home country. They'd never see eachother again, along with the Count being reduced to a state of near poverty."
Having made the suggestion, she looks at Lisa. "Would that revenge satisfy The Savored Sting?"
"...That said, I do agree with her sentiment, Lord Erallan. How would we realistically accomplish an entirely non-lethal approach to this if Bartelby doesn't abdicate willingly? Which, given that he stands to lose approximately everything and is assumed to be both selfish and uncaring, seems at least decently likely?" Velvet follows afterwards. "The only real solution I can see to that is to do it covertly, extracting the Count and his Seneshal without it getting to a full-on assault. Which will be difficult, but perhaps manageable. In an open fight, I don't feel restricting our forces and allies and thereby risking and spending their lives purely for the sake of idealism is a good approach. We can't give the message that the Princess puts the safety of her enemies over that of her allies, or that she lacks the strength to do what is needed to protect her own."
"“It might be possible to persuade Bartleby to show us, as part of a tour through the estate. I would suspect, given its cost, that he would be rather proud of it.”
"That would probably be a good approach. Assuming you've evaded any and all suspicion, we don't seem to lose anything by paying a visit before we do anything. Perhaps everything can be enacted during said visit, even, though it will require a lot of improvisation."
"I've already compromised here by agreeing that the Count be let to live here, yet you deny me even this?" Lisa growls through gritted teeth. "Is this not a war Marius? A shadow war but a war never-the-less. And in war... You kill your enemies. Do you not? Soldier?"
"The goal, in war and politics, is victory. Sometimes that requires killing. This is not one of those times." He looks to be about to say more, but subsides when Lotti speaks up about the teleportation circle. Good old Lotti, ever practical.
"So do we arrange to visit Birdsong, scout the place out and then arrest the Count as soon as we feel prepared?"
""The goal, in war and politics, is victory. Sometimes that requires killing. This is not one of those times."
"Yes, but the question is how we're going to..." She trails off, noticing he wasn't looking at her, put past her, staring intently at something on the wall. Following his gaze, she finds the painting. Lines of worry increasingly mar her otherwise youthful face.
"Something is off with this painting," she slowly remarks. "This figure here, the art for her is different. Everything else is tranquil, plain, leasurely idyll, brushed with blurred lining. While she is drawn with an entirely different technique. Disproportionate amounts of sharpness, detail and exuberance are allowed her and only her." "Also, the dress is off by at least two hundred years... I think."
"They either called in a second painter for just this bit - or someone added this image to it afterwards. The question is - why? And who? Is it a spell? Can this be used to spy on us somehow?" She throws a worried glance at Lotti as the resident magical expert.
“Perhaps?” Lotti looks at the painting as well and begins her familiar divination for auras. “I would not be surprised if such magic for painting things exists, though it would likely be limited in what it could create by the skill of the caster.” She deliberately does not answer the following question about spying - not yet.
As everyone's attention turns to the painting, the image of the richly dressed noblewoman rolls her eyes, then steps forward. A brief feeling of pressure, and Duchess Veleto Lotheed is standing in the room, flicking some invisible lint off her dress.
"Oh, darlings, you are all so entertaining." She looks at Lisa. "Love your fire, it's exciting to see this side of you." then she turns a dazzling smile on Marius. "And I am very touched by your concern! How gallant."
She steps closer to Lisa, her dress swishing, lowering her gaze. "As entertaining as your little plot is, I am here for something - or rather, someone - else." She drags her eyes upwards towards the courtesan's face, a half-smile playing on her painted lips.
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"Would that revenge satisfy The Savored Sting?"
Straightening her posture Lisa hiffs on her pipe again, her lips curled into a slight frown. "I can see where my darling Raesilia gets her sharp whit... Yes, yes I believe we can compromise here." she finally settles on before all hell breaks loose.
Lisa finds it difficult to remain calm given the circumstances... They'd been found out, and what was worse, special attention seemed to be focused on her!
This was bad.
The courtesan takes a step back and reaches for the dagger at her hip. "Not interested. Sorry for leading you on like that at the ball but it was all just part of the job." Lisa sneers and whips out the blade she'd used seriously only once before.
"I do hope we can remain friends." she taunts.
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Duchess Veleto stills for a moment, then throws her gaze heavenward. "That is disappointing, but I understand." She turns, gliding towards an armchair, but instead of sitting she runs a hand idly over the upper curve of its back. "It is so difficult when my husband is away, I miss him terribly and my nephew dislikes it so when I leave the upper floor apartments." She sighs. "Worthy distractions are rather difficult to come by." She gives Marius a hopeful sideways glance from underneath her lashes.
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"Ah," a flush creeps up Marius' neck, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he slowly gestures for Lisa to lower her stiletto. "I'm flattered, but I'm afraid I'm spoken for."
Not wanting the Duchess to linger on two rejections back-to-back the nobleman decides to plunge forward with a desperate gambit. "To say we are surprised by your visit would be an understatement, my lady. Please be welcome, we'll make every effort to accommodate you as befits your station. And...I suppose there's no sense in dancing around our 'little plots' as you put it, so to have it all out in the open: we intend to overthrow Count Bartleby on behalf of Crown Princess Eutropia, pledging the loyalty and resources of Meratt County to her cause. Of course, having found us out you have us you have us entirely at your mercy on that front, but I think perhaps we have a common cause. We saw how your nephew treated you at the gala--most unbecoming, bustled away like a misbehaving child or pet, and given none of the respect due to his aunt. Our quarrel is with him, not you; we would be pleased to proceed with your blessing alone, but if you liked the idea of working a bit of mischief against him...perhaps a few words to his guards and servants would not go amiss? It would be quite the psychological blow for his household staff and men-at-arms to abandon him. You would of course be welcome to keep Birdsong Palace as your residence should you wish."
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Funnily enough, despite the sudden appearance of this woman being a likely death sentence to the mission, Velvet's immediate thought is: "What she just... awkwardly hanging around in our painting until someone happened to notice? How long has she been there? Should we charge rent?"
Then it turns to chagrin, blaming herself for not starting this conversation out on the road instead. Was not the first rule of covert operations that the walls have ears? That everyone else was relaxed enough to hold these meetings here didn't mean she was excused to copy their mistakes! ...Yet, could they really have avoided a caster seemingly so powerful indefinitely? If she was willing to hang around until the exact right moment, she could just follow along invisbly or otherwise unnoticed. Magic could do everything. Could you plan around everything?
"Maybe if we had it too," She thinks, unable to avoid the bitterness of it yet again and shifting her weight to account for impending hostilities as Veletto strides towards Lisa - who then draws a dagger, mirroring her next thought. There was no breach of security if Veleto didn't live through this - and her body was never found. It might legitimately be the only way now to protect everyone. Could they take her? Was it even really her? Desperate gambles and so little information...
She tenses further when the Countess propositions Marius next - who then makes a desperate gamble of his own.
And it gives her pause.
"Could it work?"
"Yes, would you like some tea while we talk, Countess?" She asks her pleasantly, mustering as much friendly courtesy as she could. "It does seem like you are our guest now, and far be it from us not to show proper manners. Surely someone of your grace and stature," "and thirst" "Would have ample admirers and 'distractions' everywhere. Your visit was not meant to be a simple bedroom invitation - or was it?"
The duchess seems to enjoy the flattery, as disappointing as the rejections have been. "Oh my, how ambitious! If dear Panivar was here he would squash you like insects, so you are lucky that he is away - although he will most cross if you tamper with his arcane... whatevers." She waves her hand airily. "And while my nephew is rather rude and inconsiderate, he is family, so I will not move against him." She pauses for a few heartbeats. "But I will not stand in your way if you wish to try something, it should be entertaining."
She begins to make a slow circuit of the room, running her gloved fingers over the various pieces of furniture and ornamentation. "What a quaint, charming little estate. I could perhaps spend a few days here, provided there are enough diversions."
So she is not familiar with spellcasting herself, Lotti reasons, puzzling over the noblewoman’s sudden appearance even as she keeps a neutrally-pleasant look on her face. One hand pets her familiar as if this were a normal occurrence and not something that could spell her death. And a transmutation, not a conjuration. Is she really here? Is it really her? She doesn’t seem to be surprised, so this was likely not an accident. Nor is she concerned about being in a room with people who were moments ago discussing whether or not to kill her nephew. Confidence in a quick exit? Or in not really being present perhaps?
“We would of course be honored by your presence here, your grace.” Carefully she lifts Wobblekins off her lap and sets him on the floor, ignoring his accusatory look at her.“I can have one of the guest bedrooms made up for you tonight, but do you wish see them right away? And of course your ladies-in-waiting and servants will be looked after as well. Will they be arriving shortly in the same manner as you?” She smiles innocently, doing her best not to betray how much attention she is paying to anything the noblewoman says in response.
Wobblekins yowls grumpily, then walks deliberately away from Lotti towards the new arrival. He circles her once, walking slowly and provocatively before hopping up on the couch beside the her and reaching out to sniff her gloved hand.
The duchess's coy expression flickers for a moment. "My servants? Yes, of course. As it happens, I didn't bring them with me."[/b] She smiles, turning to Lotti. "I would love a tour, yes."
"My servants? Yes, of course. As it happens, I didn't bring them with me."
"Truly? You mean to say Mazebelle and Lyria are not here and won't be joining us?" Velvet says, her face falling and sounding crestfallen. "And I was so looking forward to meeting them again! Lyria was so happy she was going to be accepted among your ladies in waiting, last we spoke... is she doing well?"
The duchess lightly shrugs one shoulder, looking away. "I don't bother to learn the names of servants. Now, I was promised some entertainment, I believe."
"Indeed. Miss Lombardi, I believe this type of entertainment is best handled by your entourage, is it not? Perhaps you could take the lead in introducing the duchess to whomever suits her fancy?" Velvet asks, lingering behind slightly as the group begins to move.
"Something is wrong. She is lying about having any servants at all. Whoever - or whatever- this figure is, she isn't Duchess Veleto. Be on guard. Perhaps Lady Mokei or Marius could read her disposition covertly," She quickly and quietly suggests to anyone in the rear with her.
Lotti bends down to scratch Wobblekins' chin as her familiar returns to her. The two seem to share a brief conversation before both turning their attention back to the duchess. Oil and paint? No scent of fabric, no perfume - and no servants. That last one suggests not a projection of the duchess. Not a spirit, or she would have no scent at all. What might she be then?
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Lotti catches Marius’s eye and silently beckons him over to her chair. “I know I really shouldn’t bother your lordship with such trivialities at this time,” she murmurs under her breath, “but I finished looking into that accounting issue you brought up this morning and I’m afraid it’s a simple case of artificial inflation. Phoebe likes to paint a pretty picture of things in the kitchen, but sometimes her story gets away from her and next thing you know it’s taken on a life of its own. Please, use your station here to let everyone know the truth of the matter.” Her eyes flick meaningfully to Konstiantina, Lisa, and Velvet before catching the nobleman’s again. She nods, then begins to climb down from her chair.
“Your Grace, perhaps the rose gardens would suit your fancy?” She walks to the door and gestures invitingly to the stranger. “They cannot hold a candle to your own beauty, of course, but their scent has been known to be… heady.” She winks broadly and lowers her voice before continuing, “And of course, such a garden offers many places for… dalliances, if you know where to look. I’m sure you’ll find a use for them here during your stay.”
He had been expecting some sort of shoe drop, some twist or reveal on this bizarre circumstance, but Lotti's veiled assertion that the Duchess Velato was literally artificial still caught him by surprise. "Controlled from afar?" he inquires so softly it's barely audible even to him, belying its life-or-death importance.
Whatever the answer might be, she was here now and needed to be handled--with kid gloves, if possible. Schooling his expression before straightening and turning back to their unexpected guest, the nobleman smiles. "A tour of the gardens would be just the thing! Please excuse me, Duchess, I'll join your momentarily once I've ascertained that your accommodations are in order. Lady Mokei? Miss Arlandt? I will require your assistance."
Velvet raises both eyebrows at the news of the thing's nature, but nods briskly, trusting Lotti's superior knowledge. "All right. Lady Mokei, could you ask the domovoi if it has been here before? They are liable to bribes of the dairy nature I've been told, should one be necessary. Meanwhile, I'll try and coax some information while we provide entertainment. Afterwards... I see no real alternative but to swiftly destroy it. It knows too much, and if someone *is* using it to view us, then we are essentially wasting time while the Count supposedly scrambles to ready his defenses - or worse, a strike force. Not to mention that it detects as evil, and I'd rather not want to risk any of our men being left alone with this thing for a 'distraction', whatever that means for an malefic thing not of flesh and blood."
She soon rejoins Lisa during the distraction, engaging the 'Duchess' in pleasant conversation of the flower arrangements, then of the food and drinks brought to a shaded garden table. Which was excellent as always due to Riftun's cooking expertise.
"...Would you share some news of your home, Duchess? Surely there are interesting developments someone of your standing learns all the time. Your mastery of the intricacies of the Courts must be honed as the sharpest blade!"
"...Not to mention how difficult it must be to travel here all the way by yourself! How did you even manage such a feat, why, my father would often keep watch so tight it was difficult to even breathe in the wrong direction. Yet you escaped your own security effortlessly, did yu not? Is this the fabled magical lineage of the Lotheeds at work?"
"...Oh? Then what sort of entertainment would your grace prefer? I'm loathe to admit we lack musicians, but we have some capable dancers and singers among our retinue, myself included. Perhaps that would make up for me missing the Jubilee, I hear that was quite a feast. And you even attended it yourself, didn't you? What was it like there? What grand performances were there?"
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Konstiantina goes to speak with the domovoi, who are distraught by the news of an intruder in the manor, and seem a little embarrassed to not have noticed it before.
"My dear, if at home was interesting, why would I be here? You are right though, I used to be the center of attention in Oppara in my heyday... now I spend my days sealed in the palace." She sighs, her gaze unfocused, her posture and expression a study in longing. "I do miss those days, when I was in the middle of things, oh, the intrigue! The skills I acquired then still serve me well, so you mustn't be so surprised at how easily I slip past my nephew's watchdogs, or that I managed to travel here inconspicuously." She waves an elegant hand at Velvet's mention of lineage. "Oh, sweetheart, I am a Lotheed only by marriage, but I did bring... other talents to our union. Panivar is a very powerful mage, but I'm not exactly a helpless damsel either. And if my nephew or anyone else think they can keep me locked up forever, well." There is the glint of something dangerous in her eye, quickly changing to a different kind of gleam, one of interest. "Dancers, you say? I do love dancing, there was that girl at the jubilee who danced so beautifully, I thought she would be here..."
The duchess seems happy with the attention and the entertainment for now.