”I must ask, if we find Sir Dratavis alive, but turned against the cause, what’s your, ah, your recommendation for how we deal with that? Obviously we’d hope to turn him back but if not…well, what’s your desired outcome there?”
Martella inclines her head to Faenia. "I understand. I just ask that you are as gentle as you can be when you mention it to her." At Barcos's question, she replies "Sir Dratavis is not a spy, just a Loyalist and a friend of Eutropia. I offered to send a specialist with him to protect him, but he insisted that Pythareus and the earl were honorable men who would let the strongest argument succeed.' She frowns. "It is not unthinkable that some strong argument has turned him from our cause, and should that happen he is of course free to change his allegiance. Please do not hold that against him."
"I've got more question, well more of a request, I suppose. As I've delved deeper into this web of intrigues that makes up the struggle for reform, I've realized that my ability to make headway in this game of puppets and masters might be hamstrung by my lack of any title or status among the nobility. I'd ask that you put a false name on my portion of the Stachys estate. Let's go for...Reginald Weatherby, sounds appropriately pompous. I do not want this station, but it still might serve the cause if an assumed identity can blend into polite society with it."
Faenia waits politely for Barcos’ issues to be resolved. She’d resigned to give up her ‘stake,’ not having need of it, but wasn’t sure what to do with it - as was relatively obvious from her queries to the others. She waited seemingly to hear what could be done with Barcos’.
***************
When the others finished most of their queries, Faenia looked up from her notebook, and thumbed the envoy ring around her right pinky, absentmindedly. Exhaling slowly, she asks Martella, ”okay - can you tell us more about the cult? I am not an expert on Pythareus but he does not strike me as the cult leader type.”
"Reginald Weatherby Esquire, can be done," answers Martella to Barcos's request.
"We know very little about the cult, except that its members seem friendly and it is popular with many locals. Meir claims the so-called Twilight Child at the center of it has been healing the sick and injured with a touch, but he would hardly be the first self-proclaimed god I've seen claim the same." Martella nods at Faenia. "And you are correct. Maxillar Pythareus's Imperialists claim that the vote against male primogeniture either never happened, or else is invalid given the violent circumstances - meaning that Eutropia, as a woman, cannot claim the throne. But by their arguments, Carrius would be a more legitimate heir than Pythareus, who was only adopted. If anything, this complicates both Eutropia's and Pythareus's claims. So no, I do not think that he is behind it - but I'm dying to know who is." She winces at her own bad joke. "Sorry."
Rose chuckles. It was nice to see Martella back in high enough spirits to joke around, especially after her time in the assassin's dungeon and then her scramble with Eutropia to try and calm the nation. "At the cost of stating the obvious, this is a very dangerous development. No one knows where this prince came from and if someone were to control him and he somehow gained the throne, that would place the nation under the control of a puppet king - and the mastermind, if any."
Talk of Qadira made her wonder further. "So if Pythareus wins, he will likely go to war with Qadira. But if Qadira strikes first, the divided nation can be expected to rally around the flag, which would mean Pythareus as its general, and then they'd have an even longer war. it seems politically they are at a lose-lose situation unless Eutropia wins. Perhaps we can put the good old 'the enemy of my enemy' adage to good use here should we find representatives with sufficient reach."
Faenia says quietly, "political consequences aside - if someone was able to bring him back from beyond the veil, we must protect him. The Princess deserves to have her brother back."
"All efforts failed at the time," Marius says softly, disturbed. [smaller]"I should wonder at why he would return now after so long--and I question the motives of anyone powerful enough to do it. Such magics are extraordinarily powerful workings...I think it more likely that we face a more successful copy than the poor thing we put to rest in the royal suite, though I hope I am wrong."
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Level 1 spells:
Level 2 spells:
Level 3 spells:
Level 4 spells:
Level 5 spells:
Only four spells not learned - not bad!
Lotti's clothes are much more unkempt than usual, with ink staining her sleeves and heavy creases in her wool skirt from sitting still for hours on end in the library, copying down as many spells as possible into the book Rose had been kind enough to find in Oppara and purchase on the older woman's behalf. She holds her teacup in one hand while the other continues stirring well past the point where any sugar added to the beverage would surely have dissolved. Her gaze is directed at Martella, but her eyes don't seem to track the noblewoman's face it moves.
"Scrying," she finally says, eyes blinking as if the word had taken much more effort to vocalize than its length would suggest. "City. Agent. Child. Scry. Yes?"
Faenia nods, ”perhaps the palace has a suitable scrying focus we could borrow?” She looks vaguely at Martella, ”I did not see anything, though.”
Martella huffs and smiles. "Good thought. It should have occurred to me, but I suppose I'm biased towards mundane solutions. You might find a suitable mirror in the observatory."
Faenia smiles slightly, ”it is better in general to solve problems without magic - at least when it comes to people. While I did not exactly graduate in a traditional program, that was a lesson well-learned at the academy. But -“ she adds as a rejoinder, ”stories tell us that sometimes magic is the only way to do certain things.” She looks at the others in the group, ”unless you have some agents or other resources you could deploy in Yanmass? Maybe you could do that too?”
Martella raises an eyebrow at Faenia. "You are the agents that I am deploying in Yanmass. But I recognize the value of going in with as much information as you can, so if this divination ritual would not delay you too much then by all mean, go for it."
Faenia blushes, and stammers uncharacteristically, ”n - no… I am sorry. I mean - the others. They have people that work for them? Or was I mistaken?” She takes a deep breath, and composes herself, ”as for who to look for - we could actually try Carrius? Do we not have some of his things? We might even get confirmation of a sort about whether this is a hoax. I do not know - the tales of farseeing are inconclusive.” She reaches into the new haversack she grabbed and pulls out an old book, cracking it open ”just - there are old stories. Many have some element of truth.” She points at a page which describes a scrying ritual and the effects.
She looks back at her notebook as well, ”Dratavis, maybe? Then lastly, Merkondus if neither of those is successful. I am loathe to use such things on people we may wish to turn to be our allies, but people who are already our allies - they may not mind - I would not if I were lost.”
Martella looks skeptical at the mention of the prince. "Hm. Dratavis would be my choice. We would at least know if he's alive or dead... can you even tell that with divination?"
As she focuses on the dead prince's childhood toys and performs the divination ritual, Faenia can tell that there is someone on the other side, but it is all very muddled and she cannot get any clear glimpses before the occult connection is severed.
The earl resists the divination attempt.
She tilts her head, "if he is dead, in a pocket space, or does not exist, it would give me the same result. But typically wards give a sense of their existence."
She looks at the other party members, more clearly trying to ask them, "Martella would like me to look for Dratavis. My preference would be Prince Carrius. I would defer to you all, however."
Lotti blinks once, twice, three times before she seems able to process what Faenia and Martella are saying. "Oh! You can... Good! Yes!" A few more seconds pass before she realizes the skald had implied a question. And might be hoping for an answer.
"Oh. Hmm." She pauses yet again to collect her thoughts. "Carrius was a noble, and an important one at that." She takes a moment to sit with the understatement before continuing. "I... find it hard to believe the royal family would not have used every tool at their disposal to search for him if there was even the faintest possibility he was not - or was no longer - dead. But Dratavis? Knowing what has happened to him might let us avoid sharing his fate."
Faenia nods, "I agree - except that they do not know at this time that he is reportedly alive, again. Unless I misinterpreted what Lady Martella was saying. I do not know if this changes how you think, but your reasoning is fair either way."
"It was worth an effort, but it seems a more mundane approach is needed--I'll be ready to depart for Yanmass in the morning. What is the Crown Princess' next priority now that she has secured her base of operations?"
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Marius makes it known that he wants to look for Dratavis.
Seemingly deferring to the others, Faenia is obviously displeased and slightly confused with both the outcome and the tail end of the conversation, but does her duty. After a few minutes, she returns.
She sighs ”Make of this what you will - the spell revealed nothing but darkness. It is not the absence of death, not quite, but rather as if the ambassador did not exist at all. This means that Dratavis may be dead or may be held in a non-dimensional space. If he were alive or on another plane I would have at least sensed that.”
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"Or he never existed in the first place. Take the example of a man such as myself, one who can take the form of another, live life as someone else. If I had stayed as the laundry maid Yanda, and returned to my form after a period of life in her shoes, I reckon that any attempts to scry on her would yield a similar result."
Faenia shrugs, ”I do not know. I have never used this before. I am lucky I figured out a way to use it.”
She finishes, ”anyway, it was a good experiment. If afforded the opportunity I will try to find the Prince, as well”
"What is the Crown Princess' next priority now that she has secured her base of operations?"
"We will strengthen our efforts to find allies among the nobility and others. A political base needs to be secured before we can move against Pythareus," responds Martella. "I hope your efforts in Yanmass will be successful as well, the trade income and the communication channel with Qadira will be invaluable."
Once the last details are cleared, Martella takes her leave and returns to overseeing the renovation works on the palace.
In the morning, two carriages are ready to take everyone on the 16-day journey to Yanmass. Barring delays, they should arrive in the city the day before the council's monthly meeting.
As the party gets ready to leave, Barcos gets a wry look. He calls over Baron Barksley and ruffles the dog’s head before getting the party together.
”So…I’ve been waiting to show you folks something. It’s new to me too, though by a few days longer than you lot. It’s the good Baron here, he’s…”
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Before Barcos can say anything more, the dog yips excitedly and implausibly begins speaking. His voice sounds like a street thug aping at nobility, ”Gods be damned, ‘ats lovely getting to talk now. Hells, I didn’t even know I could talk until not too long ago.”
The dog casts a glare at Lord Wobblekins. If a dog could sneer, Baron Barksley would be, ”And you! You’ve ‘ad a long enough run bein’ the only talkin’ beastie in this here group. Now, your reign ends! Make way for Baron Barksley.”
He laughs and lets out a howl.
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If Marius' eyebrows could climb any higher they'd fly off his forehead. "Ah, the Baron talks now. Just the thing to keep our profile low in Yanmass." He gives Barcos a quizzical look. "What exactly are you feeding him?" The look shifts to Lotti and her familiar. "And what's this about your cat? Wobblekins, have you been holding out on us?"
+ + + + +
The days ahead of their departure for Yanmass are ones of logistical planning and persuading Onora Piscum to take up her recently-shed role of Tribune once again. "It's only for a while, I've got money and instructions socked away for the next several months' work--that should get us through the winter and I fully expect to be able to return before then. You'll hardly have to do any extra work! And with the Princess' retinue based nearby there will be additional resources and protections at hand."
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Barcos gives a smile, "Believe me, a low profile is always the goal."
He then chuckles and shrugs, "As for what I've been feeding him...well, where do you think a good chunk of my meals go? And from time to time your meals. Aaand, well, everyone else's...any case, I doubt it's the food. This feels different. A bit more mystical."
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Rose spends most of her her remaining time contributing to the region's stability. Many letters are written to and fro to Dame Crabbe, Legate Voinum, Barons Okerra and Araig and finally Baronet Vort to make agreements on local trade and local security in the time they would be away. She travels to say farewell to Sepsinia and Dame Crabbe personally, handing her the document of partial ownership of the Manor along with the invitation that she would always be welcome there or wherever Rose happened to be, should she need her support. Similar heartfelt goodbyes are made when she parts with both Konstiantina and Lisa, who had elected to stay behind.
"I'll miss you both. Please be well. We couldn't have asked for better friends to help us on the way, and I know everything is in good hands here." She wipes away tears of sentimentality and puts on a smile. "Hey, let's all agree to meet next year on the next Harvest Festival - and we'll do another perfomance!" She looks fondly at Lisa, her unlikely but probably best friend. "...And bake some more pies together." She adds to Konstiantina, grinning. There probably couldn't be a better steward than the stalwart paladin, pristine in her dignity and unshakable morals. "And with a whole year to prepare, I am expecting the best pie this side of the Inner Sea." She adds teasingly, enjoying the aasimar's brief look of panic.
The remainder of her time is spread between quiet -and less quiet- moments with Marius and the pure bliss that came with the realization that she had not one, not two, but five whole weeks of partial backlog for the Thread Rare to work through!
Truly, Stachys was paradise.
She'd miss it - not as an assignment, but as... home. She thinks, giving it one last look as the carriages for departure are loaded. "We'll come back here, won't we?" she asks Marius, briefly leaning onto his shoulder as they left.
Rose chuckles softly at the interplay between Barcos and Marius as she knelt down to give Baron Barksley a good welcoming petting. She does, however, looks a bit worried when Wobblekins was mentioned and directly called out. At one point, she was going to have to talk to Lotti about what they knew and there was only so much opporunity left to put it off...
Faenia took her belongings from the servant’s quarters near the kitchen, seemingly everything she owned, leaving the room cleaner than it was than when she arrived. She thanked the servants by name, particularly the non-humans that happened to have been working there, and spoke to each of them quietly, thanking them for their help.
Later, she smiles slightly when Baron Barksley speaks, as she’s packing the saddlebags for her horse, but does not otherwise respond. Soon, she’s astride her horse, reading one of her books as she waits for the others to ride in the carriage to Yanmass. She’s clearly taking advantage of the glamered armor to make herself seem dressed only like a large generic-looking Taldan knight, with her house colors and looking like she wears banded mail. Oddly, she seems to have colored her hair, with a different style of braids, and changed her makeup - strikingly - and rather subtly, enough so that she looks different. Not like herself and not Ulfen at all, in fact.
Enough at first or second glance that an untrained eye would struggle to identify her as Ogvai’s daughter. As the party leaves, she says, ”on the road, I am the mercenary Kela. I will guard you and watch the carriage as we go.” She goes back to reading her book - which seems to be something of a historical book, pilfered from the library, about the mercantile culture of Yanmass.
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”on the road, I am the mercenary Kela. I will guard you and watch the carriage as we go.”
"Of course," Rose answers, looking up from her 'good boying' of the Baron. She suppressed an odd yet deep feeling of amusement over someone else doing the whole secret identity thing for a change. "I assume that is because your father wishes to keep his involvement and support a secret for now? Or is there a different reason?"
After Faenia's response or lack thereof comes, her attention is redirected to Baron Barksley and Wobblekins. "Actually... hold on you two. If both of you can speak, there is something scientific curiosity commands me to ask!"
She crosses her arms. "If animals can learn to speak common, can us humanoids learn to speak your tongue in turn? And I mean that in a non-magical way, of course. In example, if I say '*woof, woof!*', or '*Miauw...?*', what does that translate to?" She follows, watching both familiars in turn. To her credit, she did mimic the animal noises surprisingly well.
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Baron Barksley scoffs, almost interrupting Rose, "Learn to talk like us? Please, there's no way you could..."
When she makes a barking noise, the hound growls slightly and he lightly bares his teeth, "My mum was a lovely woman. Do not say that about 'er."
”on the road, I am the mercenary Kela. I will guard you and watch the carriage as we go.”"Of course," Rose answers, looking up from her 'good boying' of the Baron. She suppressed an odd yet deep feeling of amusement over someone else doing the whole secret identity thing for a change. "I assume that is because your father wishes to keep his involvement and support a secret for now? Or is there a different reason?"
Faenia nods solemnly, ”that is part of it, yes.” She taps her book, ”the novelty of an Ulfen is diminished around here, and anonymity may be of more value for now.” She points at the ring, ”I should even be able to blend in better should you need me to do a bit of skullduggery, not as well as Barcos, but … we have different skills.”
She smiles slightly, ”plus, when I woke up today it seemed like a fun idea.”
Later, she watches as Rose mimics the pair of animals, obviously impressed. When Baron Barksley responds, she snorts in an unladylike way, watching to see what Rose would say.
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”Plus, when I woke up today it seemed like a fun idea.”
"Really? You mean to say dressing up as someone else is a hobby to you?" Rose asks, intrigued. Then she smiles. "Well, if you ever want any assistance or feedback on a outfit - or even, dare I say it, a new one tailored to your specifics charms - please feel free to ask! I have extensive experience breaking out of the compound. And, on occasion, into it too. Disguises are my speciality, second only to speculative intrigue and explosive alchemy." She winks at the Ulfan just as Baron Barksley bristles in protest.
"My mum was a lovely woman. Do not say that about 'er."
"Wait. So those words had actual meaning! On my first try!?" She rounds to the dog, sheer excitement drowning out the rest at first. "What part of it signified- ...oh, sorry, an insult to your mother? Then what did I call her? Truly, I do apologize for any offense."
She takes that back when Barksley informs her. "A b*tch? But... you're a dog. So... how am I supposed to refer to-"
Just as she says it, something in her demeanor changes just then and there is a certain fire in her eyes and voice as she kneels down and looks him right in the eyes. "No, wait. THAT isn't the issue here. You and me, we are nipping this one right in the bud! You, sir, are a noble scion of canine heritage, are you not! You have faced down assassins! Claimed an entire prefecture as your territory! You and you alone are Baron among the hounds of Taldak! Is that not worthy of praise? Of respect! Have you not already achieved more than most humanoids can ever aspire to?" She follows, daring him to disagree.
Of course, these were only rhetorical questions. "If so, then no one should impose the social values of other cultures above yours! No one should sabotage your pride - not even you yourself! Submitting to human slang should be beneath your caninity, good sir! So when someone calls your mother 'a b*tch', stand tall and proud! *I* value my human heritage, and when someone calls me 'human woman', I say: Yes, and thank you kindly!"
She catches her breath, now ruffling the sides of Barkley's face as she (seemingly) attempted to talk more sense and self-respect (?) into him with every line. "Now I want to hear you accept your forebears! Speak, bold and worth of your title, your legacy: "I am Baron Barksley and me mum's the single greatest B*tch in all of Avistan! And anyone who dares claim otherwise will have their legs used as fetch toys!"
The noblewoman looks at the Baron expectantly.
""City. Agent. Child. Scry. Yes? (...) Oh! You can... Good! Yes!"
"Lotti..." Lingering behind as the elder gnome servant cleaned up the meeting room, Rose is burning to ask about Velvet and Wobblekins, but in light of these developments, what comes out instead is:
"Are you on drugs?" She asks, deeply concerned. "Or, um. I mean. Can I get you some help? Really, I won't judge! There was a lot of that going on at the academy when people weren't looking so..." She trails off, unsure how to continue yet very aware of the irony of someone with a mental illness more worried about someone else's cognitive health.
Baron Barksley gives Rose a good long stare before looking up at Barcos, ”Is this one daft?”
He turns back to Rose and says incredulously, ”I don’t know what an Avistan is, I’ve’nt done none of what you said, though I appreciate the thought I could. But those words about my mum, well, those are fightin’ words. Callin’ her what you’re callin’ her is awful. You get to call yourself a human, I doubt my mum ever got the chance to decide what folks called her. Call her my mum, or don’t keep gabbin’ on about her.”
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Barcos gives the Baron a sturdy pat on the flank. His voice is soft, ”It’s alright, Baron. Don’t get too riled up. She meant nothing of it. Just excited to meet a talking hound like yourself. Not many of those, there are.”
He pulls a scrap of parchment from his pocket and scribbles something on it before handing it to Rose. It reads, ”Apologies for him. It’ll take some time to figure out his boundaries. He’s not a pet, never has been, and is nearly as smart as us. His intellect is new to the world, but his being isn’t. He’ll need respect and support to understand how to navigate it.”
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Peering over Rose's shoulder to read the note, Marius makes a hmm of acknowledgement (if not complete understanding) and signals the coachman their readiness to depart.
"Welcome to the team, Baron. I hope you don't mind carriages, we've a long way to go."
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”Plus, when I woke up today it seemed like a fun idea.”"Really? You mean to say dressing up as someone else is a hobby to you?" Rose asks, intrigued. Then she smiles. "Well, if you ever want any assistance or feedback on a outfit - or even, dare I say it, a new one tailored to your specifics charms - please feel free to ask! I have extensive experience breaking out of the compound. And, on occasion, into it too. Disguises are my speciality, second only to speculative intrigue and explosive alchemy." She winks at the Ulfan just as Baron Barksley bristles in protest.
Faenia raises an eyebrow, but doesn't respond until the conversation with Baron Barksley is done.
She clears her throat, later, "not a hobby, Raeselia - Rose." She seems to be carefully considering something, "you attended the Kith, yes? An interesting school, with a variety of subjects to learn." She puts her book down into her lap for a moment, considering her words, "by now, if you were not made aware, you should all know that I... failed out of the program. Too aggressive. Too angry. Too... " she blinks rapidly, "principled." She shrugs, "my father pulled some strings to get me to finish an actual degree - modified somewhat. But those skills never go away, do they?" she looks down and there's a message in her eyes, just for the other woman, though it isn't entirely clear what it might be.
She looks at Raeselia's outfit, "perhaps I will take you up on your offer; you are quite able with a needle and thread." She hesitates a moment, "perhaps not. I will consider it. In the meantime, the ring should suffice."
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Marius makes a hmm of acknowledgement (if not complete understanding) and signals the coachman their readiness to depart.
Likewise, Rose isn't sure how to handle the Baron following his reaction. Apparently, he picked human values over his canine ones while at the same time taking offense of human language and doing so easily. She wasn't sure what that meant for his exact level of intelligence or restraint but could only hope Barcos would be able to reign him in at Yanmass when it mattered. He could, however, realize when someone was laying it on thick and clearly wasn't the type to joke around or fall for flattery, which she hoped translated to good social awareness in general.
"By now, if you were not made aware, you should all know that I... failed out of the program. Too aggressive. Too angry. Too... principled. (...) But those skills never go away, do they?" she looks down and there's a message in her eyes, just for the other woman, though it isn't entirely clear what it might be.
"Made aware...?" Rose repeats, feeling she was missing something, especially with the pointed look. What was that about 'the program' or falling out because of anger or principles? As far as she knew, people did fail the lessons of the academy based on their difficulty, but their personality? There was rare at best. Attendence wasn't exactly cheap and poor behavior reflected poorly all one's peers and the other major noble families. It was the place to form connections and you were expected to be on your best behavior - at least in public. "So why didn't I hear anything about her?"
"Why would we be made aware of you dropping out of the Kith? The Academy isn't exactly easy to finish, for one. But even then, it's not as if those skills translate perfectly to one's value in the field. You obviously did just fine these past weeks. I mean, thank you for being honest but please don't pull yourself down over it." She grins and gives a fond look at the inquisitor. "Though I must admit the dancing skills come in handy at times. Also the trivia! There was this one time I had this standoff with a foul-mouthed shipwright on boat repair - I'd like to think he was suitably humbled. I was a horrible violinist, though. You couldn't pay me enough to embarass myself like that ever again - and I pity anyone unfortunate enough to ever hear me commit crimes against the Scales." The tailor gives an embarassed chuckle as she enters the carriage, after which she begins reading a book with basic information on the region they'd be travelling to.
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Faenia’s eyes narrow at Raeselia’s explanation, and she seems to be watching the tailor’s explanations carefully.
”I learned a good amount about everyone in this endeavor, in the last week. I assumed that you did the same for me.”
Regardless, at the end of Rose’s explanation, Faenia will nod, and shrug slightly, ”like I said, I did not drop out of the Kith, I finished with a … different program.” She seems like she’s sharing a joke with herself, but nods politely when Rose enters the carriage.
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Despite the early hour, the sun is up and the weather already warm, threatening to become hot later in the day. The two carriages stand ready in front of the Palace of Birdsong, together with a half-dozen riding horses for guards, retainers, extra luggage or simply for those who preferred to not be inside a carriage on a hot day for hours on end.
Both Martella and Eutropia are there to see everyone off, wearing light summer trousers and blouses. Outside official meetings, the princess seems to favour more practical attire, and has been using the observatory area in the palace to practice her rapier skills.
"Safe travels, my friends. Praying for your success in Yanmass. Send news to Martella when you can." Eutropia waves goodbye before going back inside. "Yes, please do. And try to make it to the council meeting."
The journey itself is uneventful. On the third day, the World's Edge Mountains begin to rise in the distance, and the road cuts through low hills in places as it veers northeast, parallel to the rows of rocky peaks. Krearis is the most populous non-coastal Taldan prefecture, and its people are as rugged as its landscape. Grand Duke Borand Heskillar does what he can to maintain the peace among the many disputes and the frequent infighting of his earls and barons, but he faces an uphill battle against feuds dating back centuries. Additionally, even before the Senate Massacre her had offered little support or concern, and he is especially unpopular in noble circles for having married a dwarven woman, Lady Grella of Taggoret.
On the tenth day they leave Krearis behind as they cross the Falling River into the Avin prefecture, Taldor's largest. The landscape opens up, with the mountains to the right diminishing into hills, then plains. The road runs close to the Verduran Fork river, which issues from the Fog Peaks to the north.
large enough numbers to begin raiding, the cavalry delivers swift and brutal consequences. The fate of the region’s lamias remains a mystery, however, and local superstition claims the lionesses learned to walk in the guise of human beings and still prey on Taldan settlers from the shadows and whisper in Taldan rulers’ ears.
As Avin is one of the breadbasket prefectures, its economy revolves heavily around its many farms and ranches. Producing much of Taldor’s wheat and gifted with access to Casmar trade and the presence of the Taldan Horse, Avin enjoys an unusual level of political influence for such a far-flung region.
The sun is inching towards the horizon on the fourteenth day when Yanmass finally comes into view, a bustling city situated on a pair of low hills alongside the wide Verduran Fork. However, visitors first notice the sea of tents surrounding its weathered stone walls, which sprawls larger than the city within the walls.
History Before the arrival of humans to the area, the plains that would eventually see Yanmass built were covered with dense, primeval forests. The first humans in the area found the nearby Verduran Fork and Fog Creek to be deep and navigable, ideal for floating lumber downstream to larger cities on the coast. With halfling assistance - sometimes conscripted - loggers and trappers settled in the area, founding a small town with the halfling name of “Yanmass” near two hills. Soon, however, the forests dwindled. Gradual climate change did the rest of the work, transforming the forest into a sprawling, grassy plain as the Verduran Forest retreated to the west. The plains made excellent ranch lands, so the humans and halflings of the area shifted, over generations, from loggers to ranchers.
Yanmass continued to prosper, bringing trade up the Verduran Fork and then to the canal dug from the river to the town. Smaller communities dotted the landscape around the city, and imperial engineers built roads and canals connecting the settlements. Although many of those settlements have since been abandoned - destroyed in the wildfires that occasionally sweep the plains or attacked in inter-empire confrontations - Yanmass remained tall and proud upon its hills, protected by thick walls. When the surrounding lands were incorporated into the Taldan empire as the prefecture of Avin, Yanmass was the best locale for the prefecture’s administrative heart.
When Keleshite traders realized the scope of the markets to the west, they sought the best passages over and around the World’s Edge Mountains. The vast Whistling Plains to the east of Yanmass are mostly level, but they are rarely safe; the plain is home to bulettes, worgs, and stranger monsters lurking in the tall grass. Still, brave scouts established the safest paths through the grassland, enabling trade across the Whistling Plains to Yanmass. Today, bandits pose as much a problem to travelers as beasts. Maps of the Whistling Plains showing secret paths, sheltered watering holes, and abandoned but safe shelters circulate in Yanmass. Although most of these are either minor variations on known routes or outright fabrications, they feed the hopes of finding a genuine map that leads across the plains safely and swiftly.
Although hostilities between Taldor and the satrapies of the Padishah Empire of Kelesh flare up from time to time, Yanmass has never closed its gates to merchants; trade to and from the east is too vital to the city’s survival to ever have its markets close. The various barons and baronesses who have ruled Avin Prefecture over the past several generations have held differing opinions on open trade, but no leader has dared to oppose the merchant lords in the city. Over time, these merchant lords have assumed a stronger role in civil administration, writing the very laws applicable to themselves and to their competitors. Operating out of the ornate Commerce Hall, Yanmass’s Mercantile Council has risen from a group of like-minded wealthy traders to the city’s most influential arm of government.
At a glance The people of Yanmass are proud and hardworking. Although opinions about the distant Taldan government in Oppara vary among Yanmass’s residents, most citizens display a strong civic pride in their wealthy city on the distant frontier. The town’s long history also contributes to this sense of community pride. Many Yanmass residents occupy homes built by distant ancestors and work in business carefully tended and expanded over generations. Although Taldane is the official language of the city and by far the most commonly used, many residents also speak a smattering of Kelish - particularly those who deal with traders from across the plains to the east, such as innkeepers, merchants, and stable hands.
Yanmass’s inhabitants are inveterate deal makers, and the Kelishite custom of haggling has influenced nearly all walks of life in Yanmass. Haggling over prices for meals or lodging is common, even between native Taldans, and large crowds gather when talented negotiators compete. This tendency to haggle doesn’t extend to the city’s bureaucracy, however, which rigorously enforces taxes to support the city’s government and defense. In Yanmass, the phrase “bargain like a tax collector” means to refuse to negotiate or to otherwise be inflexible on a topic.
Buildings in Yanmass are predominantly stone, obtained from quarries in the World’s Edge Mountains to the south. Upper stories and roofs are made of wood. Because forests have retreated over past generations and the city prohibits cutting in Hedge Hill at the city’s center, wood has become increasingly expensive. As a result, residents and businesses are much more likely to renovate existing buildings rather than fund new construction. Outside the city walls, tents and thatch dwellings predominate. Usually these are temporary residences used by traders, although many are well constructed and festooned with so many pillows and tapestries that they are more luxurious than the most solid buildings within Yanmass’s walls.
Two different forces keep the peace in and around Yanmass. The Firewatch is personally funded by the baron of Avin and reports to his household. Although originally established to combat fires in the city and on the nearby plains, the Firewatch also serves as the police force in the city. Members of the Firewatch are distinctive in their red uniforms. The Taldan Horse is the elite cavalry arm of the Taldan military. Headquartered outside of Yanmass in various fast-response stations, the Taldan Horse primarily patrols the roads and plains around the city. Although the Taldan Horse has just as much jurisdiction within the city as outside it, members generally enter the city on official business only when requested by the baron or the Firewatch.
The city Yanmass stands approximately 12 miles from the banks of the wide river called Brokenbridge and is protected by an ancient, crumbling stone wall known as the Avin Wall. A broad canal brings water to the city and connects with the river, enabling flat-bottomed barges to bring goods to and from the city. The plain outside the Avin Wall is almost always covered with tents and makeshift shops of visiting traders, particularly near the wall’s three large gates. The hilly land within the Avin Wall is considered Yanmass proper and is divided into several districts.
Hedge Hill, the forested eastern hill, is ringed with parks and amphitheaters. Backhill is a sleepy middle-class residential district east of Hedge Hill but within the city walls. Yanmass’s other hill has no formal name, but residents often call it Gentry Hill because it is surrounded by upscale businesses and topped with the baronial manor and Commerce Hall. In Churchside, the area between the two hills and north of the temple of Abadar, several venerable establishments stand in outdated majesty. The neighborhood along the canal is known as Coinside; whereas many cities' dockside
districts are low rent, Coinside is fairly pleasant, and trading houses headquartered here keep violent crime low. East of Coinside is a stagnant inlet called the Wash, surrounded by the Washfield neighborhood where the city’s lower class lives. The newest district of Yanmass - relatively speaking, as many of the buildings there are at least a century old — is the large southern neighborhood of Bountiful. Lively and boisterous, Bountiful contains several inns and markets as well as less savory businesses such as tanneries and breweries.
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Faenia largely spoke to the carriage drivers and other attendants, helping them with their tasks. Her manner was quite provincial, and she seemed to act deferential and subservient to requests from others in the party. Faenia seems to have decided that Kela is a loyal, straightforward mercenary without many airs. There are glimmers of this behavior that remind everyone of how Barcos played at being a servant to infiltrate the Birdsong, though obviously his disguise was more comprehensive and realistic. In her manner, however, either by accident or intentionally, there is an easiness about her that is subtly different than how she presented herself before.
Except when, notably, she will correct others who call her Faenia by accident, and eventually only respond to Kela with some obvious consternation, which itself melts away and is replaced by a general confusion.
By the end of the journey, it is easy to question whether Faenia was ever someone they knew at all. Kela speaks with a recognizably Kelish accent, and if asked about her background, she will impatiently explain how she’s from Yanmass and she’s not getting paid for conversation. Her subservience is also disciplined and ordered, notably different from her normal personality. Soon, it becomes clear that she’s acting like a former resident of the Yanmass - she drops in references to specific places and wards, and on the last day, she seems to have some minor scars that appear to be burns on her hands, that are well-healed. Taciturn, Kela doesn’t divulge many details about it, but she has a haunted look.
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Beyond an amused eyebrow raised the first time Faenia Kela corrects him, Marius makes no comment on the latter's method acting--though he does take a peek at her book on Yanmass at one point when she sets it down. He spends the trip consulting a map of the prefecture and re-reading every scrap of information Martella was able to provide them, turning the problem of her missing agent over in his mind.
"Grand Duke Heskillar does good work," he remarks offhandedly as he watches the mountains outside the carriage window. "He's a gifted diplomat smack in the middle of a crowd of hotheads and honor-feuding fools--I think he'd get along marvelously with the Princess, but his prefecture is the seat of the Horse, natural allies of the High Strategos. Our work in Meratt County was hardly unimportant, but I daresay the stakes here do feel higher."
"Yes. A merchant city controlling yet another breadbasket of the nation, one whom also happens to be a critical link in the trade with the Kelesh and the distant nations beyond their empire. And if that wasn't enough, our agent is missing just after passing warnings of Bandit raids, Cult activity and missing soldiers. The Council is sure to take notice of whichever side proves more capable in handling these issues," She grins and peers at city's outline. "And I do so love a challenge."
"Also... there is something I've been thinking of purchasing," She follows and grows more serious, determined. "Apparently, there is a store specializing in Tian-Min wares. One such item is said to be a magical needle which, when applied to the brain, greatly stimulates one's capacity to recall knowledge and memories alike with no ill effects on the user," She follows, eyes briefly meeting Marius'. "It costs quite a bit, but I'm willing to try it despite how dangerous it sounds. I feel we might need every advantage we can get."
Of course, the real reason was entirely different. As she'd privately told her lover, memory was supposedly linked to personality, which was why patients with her Illness had difficulty remembering events witnessed by non-active personae. Which begged the question: what happened if a divice was used that could restore or at least stimulate access to lost memories? Did that translate to her and Velvet in some way? Would they become 'one' again? It sounded so easy, so simple. And yet... maybe there was genuine hope there? Very few patients would be able to spend thousands of gold to find out so it wasn't surprising to find no information on such applications was available...
"A needle. Applied to the brain." There is an edge of genuine alarm in Marius' voice as he turns to see if Rose is messing with him--as if he could tell. "Darling...if my time in the Phalanx taught me one single, solitary, lonesome thing it is that the application of various metal instruments to various organs is not conducive to a long and happy life. Given that the brain is just such an organ, I--well, just how sure are you about this item?"
After finding accommodations at a decent inn with clean rooms and not too expensive, the group sets to explore the city a little while keeping an ear out for any useful information.
A few recently arrived merchants complain about their caravans having been attacked by Qadiran bandits on their way to Yanmass. These bandits were wearing masks, wielding scimitars, and riding the distinctively small but clever Qadiran horses.
A young man is talking animatedly with a sweets vendor in one of the markets. "I saw the dryad of Hedge Hill! People say she's just a legend, but I saw a woman dressed in green in the forest at the center of the park."
With the Mercantile Council meeting tomorrow morning time is rather short, but still enough to try and dig deeper into one of these rumours.
Barcos takes to the streets. Here in Yanmass, he was back in his element. Though a fraction of the size of his native Cassomir, it was still reassuring to once more be just a face in the crowd, just a beggar and his hound.
It was surprising how much people said, not knowing who was listening.
This rumor of a dryad was an interesting one, quite worth following up on.
Kela barely pays attention to the others as they finally approach Yanmass, spending her days watching for threats, reading, or writing alone in the evening. When the destination is reached, the woman nods, and by now speaking with a completely different accent, ”so - our business is concluded. Should you wish me to hire me again, I shall be staying at the Whistling Wyvern. I recommend it, if you wish for good - cheap food and stories.” and she takes off on her horse, even riding in a Qadiran style, leaving the others to their own devices.
Faenia seems to want some privacy for a while.
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Kela spends some time at the Wyvern, drinking and listening to stories, with her ears out for rumors related to their goals. She keeps asking around for work, or if anyone needs help, but seems to come up with an excuse as to why she shouldn’t take any contracts,