The call to settle in the Stolen lands was news that reached Lucinda later than most in Brevoy; she was traveling home to Issia after multi-year stay in Varisia and received the news by passing messenger. Talk of looming civil war and the commission for adventurers to make the stolen lands safe for settling piqued her curiosity. Upon her arrival she found a very different place than she remembered; there was a nervous tension to the populace that permeated the air. Inquiries into the matter told her that great strides had already been made towards pacifying the region, yet talk of doom and bloodshed were commonplace like never before. Knowing that most people who'd remember her were long gone thanks to their short lives, she decided to travel southward to Rostland and investigate further.
Word there confirmed what she'd heard: there was talk of new settling, trading and construction in the Stolen lands. It sounded as if official support was on offer to those who could successfully raise and defend holdings on the frontier. The political move made sense; the more she thought about it, the more brilliant it sounded. Though she'd taken charge of an adventuring party or two in her travels, she'd never raised a hold before; she certainly couldn't build a keep herself...but she did know how to motivate people and she knew a thing or two about a thing or three. Convincing the Swordlords to support her seemed a tall order in her mind. Yet in the idea she saw the potential to realize so many ambitions in one move. The notion was daunting, yet thrilling all at once. Unsure of what to do, she read the Harrow. When it was over, she scooped up her cards with a mischievous grin and set off to secure an audience.
LATER...
Lucinda had to fight with every ounce of willpower to keep from bursting into laughter at the Swordlord's slack-jawed, brow-cocked face. Pure incredulity was plain on his features, yet she held her composure. Once he cleared his throat to speak, the amusement subsided.
"Let me make sure I understand this. You are an Elf from Issia. You believe your father is an exile from your own lands, you have no skill with a sword Or a bow, no experience managing any sort of holding, and no allies to support your endeavor; you openly admit to practicing thievery and..." he waved a hand at her exotic appearance "other less than appropriate skills, you claim that a deck of cards foretold your success..." he leaned forward, holding his forehead. "And you want Rostland's support?"
Lucinda bowed her head slightly, smiling in agreement. "Not a detail missed, milord."
The man exhaled and slumped back in his high backed chair. "Alright, why not? I've entertained wilder claims. Convince me you're worth it. Why should I endorse this? What will you contribute?" He laced his fingers across his stomach, expression neutral again.
Lucinda let her eyes wander in thought for a moment before answering. "In a word? Commerce." The word solicited a raised brow. Lucinda grinned, accepting the unspoken challenge. Reaching up to her neck, she whisked her scarf from her shoulders, twisting on one foot into a spiraling twirl. As the spun completely around, the scarf wrapped around her neck, revealing the handful of Harrow cards now between her fingers. "Civil wars are messy, expensive and oh-so depressing. People need distractions. Distractions are worth coin." flashing a hand over the cards, she flipped them out of sight. "I can be very distracting. I know how to attract others who can be distracting." With her now hidden hand, she produced a gold coin from her clothes, rolling it between her knuckles and flipping it into the air. "My hold will be a center of art, performances, trade and exotic culture. It will draw visitors, both from Rostland and Issia. ESPECIALLY from Issia. Soldiers, merchants, and anyone else who craves a reprieve from the tension in the air..." she whisked her scarf around again; the coin vanished. She flashed a knowing smile.
"and the air in Brevoy is quite tense, wouldn't you say?"
Glancing into the lord's eyes again told her she had his full attention. She began to sway subtly, incorporating simple hip movements into her speech. "When people learn an elf has raised a "house of pleasures" for Rostland, there will be questions. They'll come to see for themselves. I'll gather information from their inquiries...and their spending," she winked. "In return for your support, I can provide you with extra gold for the city's coffers and potentially vital information." As her dance turned, she called on the magic in her sleeves, swiftly transforming her fortune teller's garb for a practical garment far more Issian in fashion. Once complete, she stopped, stood at ease and steepled her fingers, secretly relishing the widened eyes of her interviewer. "I could create trade routes as far as Varisia; I know for a fact there are merchants who would love to sell their exotic wares so far away and I honestly believe Brevoy would enjoy some new culture. Of course I'll maintain a standing force of guardsmen to protect my holdings and any Rostland agents will have shelter and support within my walls, should war truly come." Seeing her would-be patron giving the idea serious thought, she clasped her hands behind her back. "As a final benefit...if my Issian heritage starts to cause more trouble than it's worth, you can simply "expose" me as an Issian spy. I can scurry away with whatever profits I've built, leave some convenient "evidence" to support your accusation and disappear. Your people will laud you for exposing and driving out a traitor, I'll be off with a small fortune on my hands and you'll have a well established, lordless hold full of trade and entertainment to give to whomever you see fit."
Lucinda could see the ideas dancing in the Swordlord's head; he was a politician and she knew he could see the strategic potential in her proposition. Now was the time to make her move. She calmly stepped up to his table, placed both her hands on the surface and looked him straight in the eye. "Even if I lose...you win. What say you?"
Stroking his chin, the intrigued man finally decided to sit up in his chair again, putting his hands together. "you DO know that there is still no shortage of danger in the Stolen lands? Just how do you plan to defend yourself out there?"
Lucinda's face broke into an almost predatory grin. She stepped away from the table, reverting her clothes to her normal garb. In a single motion she whipped her scarf from her neck to a fruit bowl she'd spotted on entering. With the proper yank, the hidden razors on the underside snatched up an unattended apple, flinging it into the air. With another snap of the scraf, she sliced it in half, catching both pieces. She then tossed both pieces into the air, lining them up with the two empty chairs at the Swordlord's flanks; snapping her fingers she produced two playing cards from her sash, charged them with crackling arcane energy and flung them right through the divided apple, pinning both halves to the chairs. Her face remained expressionless, but inside she was screaming with delight. Gods I actually DID IT! YES! If that's not a sign I don't know WHAT is!
The noble's expression, on the other hand, was clearly of shock. A nervous glance at the chairs, the cards and the apples, now bleeding juice down the polished wood, was apparently enough to sway his mind, for he cleared his throat and pushed himself to his feet. "Well...I suppose I could make some arrangements..."
