Sasha Elena Pyrope's page

Thanks for the added clarification, I guess I'm just having a hard time understanding the nuance of it all. I'll just roll with it and make a Skulk roll.

Skulk: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6

I guess I am having a hard time understanding exactly what's happening and the difference between this being a Gather Info attempt vs this being the actual Errand to discover what the deal was between Corvetto/Bastien. Why break into Luther's house at this point? We've no real idea where to look for his safe or stash of docs. If we are just casing the house, then why break in with the use of 3 risky rolls?

It seems like Kyra's idea of Consorting with the guards is perfect to get us number of guards and maybe even the location of the docs and any special protections that might exist. If she rolls well.

If we want a back up plan, then Sasha and Elizabetta could just as easily approach Luther in disguise (Skulk) looking for him to broker a deal, but needing to see how he plans to keep their information 'secure' before they can decide to go through with the deal. Again, depending on the roll.

At the very least, all we might need to do is spend time on a Survey to observe and watch the House from a location with a view of his study/office. That should get guard info as well and also has a good chance of finding his secure spot for docs.

That is three potential rolls, but we wouldn't need to make all three unless the first two failed miserably. But it all kind of feels like we are getting bogged down in a bunch of planning and setup which the BitD/CoB system is supposed to avoid with the Engagement roll. A good engagement roll means we did a good job scouting out the house and locatng what we need. A bad roll means we couldn't get the info or maybe made him suspicious with all the attention or whatever.

Sorry if I'm missing something but 3 Risky Action rolls with potential consequences just for a Gather Info is a lot of potential harm/consequences this early on.

GM: Curious if we are still in the Free Play phase or if we are moving into the Errand phase and need an engagement roll? Don't we need to select a specific errand and the basic plan? Sounds like Stealth for Cesere's errand. Maybe Social or Deception for Calliope's?

15 Gennaio, 794

Returning to the Pocket after a long couple of days tracking one of the dullest residents in all of Ilrein, Sasha shares what she's discover with the rest of the Hand.

"As far as I can tell, Luther's clean. Or at least as clean as someone in his position can be. No drugs, no women...or men, no gambling, no booze. Nothing to make him spill the beans quick and easy." She says as she starts to peel an orange. "He is what you'd expect of a high level employee at the B and B. Stuffy, stodgy, and more importantly extremely careful." She pops a wedge of the juicy fruit into her mouth. "Still, contrary to what I'm certain is his own self impression no one is perfect and he is no exception. For he does have his own dealings outside of the Bank. Things he may or may not want his employers or others to know about. And those transactions, along with whatever more than meticulous records a man like that will keep, all happen at his home." Another wedge or orange disappears into her mouth.

"Now breaking into the Brass and Bone would be a fools errand. There's some story in the broadsheets about another poor sod who's lost their heads trying to break in there every so often. I for one, am not interested in joining those dubious ranks." She says. "But a private residence, that's much more manageable. Old Luther will have some security for sure, but he doesn't have the resources of the B and B. We should be able to work our way in. Find his papers and sneak a peek at what Tomaso and Constantin were cookin' up."

Sasha would be implementing her plan to tail Luther to find out possible leverage opportunities or if he tends to keep important papers at home. I'm guessing either a Skulk (2d) or Survey (1d) Gather Info.

Sasha is all for trying to do both the Corvetto and Baker's Guild errands. If pushed to prioritize one of the two, she'd lean toward figuring out the favor for the Corvetto. Simply because failing to deliver a favor and ending up on the bad side of the Corvetto would worry her much more than having to find another way to placate or win back the Baker's Guild.

WW: Assuming we are going to go for both errands and following Violetta's suggestion to track down Tomaso and Luther, do we begin with knowing what either of the men look like? If not, then she'd look to Gather Information to figure out who Luther is. It should be possible to contact him through the Bank. Probably by disguising herself as an ship's captain who is representing a group of investors looking to finalize a trade deal with some Ibericans. Her investors are very cautious and a stickler for contracts and rules, thus the need for an arbiter. Luciana could play one of the wealthy investors unless she has another angle to work. (Skulk) With Luther identified, they could then set up surveillance to see who he meets with, where he goes, where he lives, does he have an office at home or outside of the Bank, vices, debts, or connections that could be leveraged, etc. (Survey or maybe Hunt).

That's the general direction. Starting with Luther first as she'd prefer not to risk any notice from Corvetto agents at this early stage and hoping Luther could possibly lead her to Tomaso.

14 Gennaio, 794

Sasha takes a bite of the apple slice she'd just cut with the short thin blade she usually kept tucked in her sleeve. Chewing the apple not only sated her hunger, since per usual, Lucretia hadn't bothered with the usual niceties such as actually offering something to eat when she asks, demands really, a meeting at midday. Expecting such a circumstance, Sasha was glad to have slipped the sweet red fruit from the kitchen on her way out since she had skipped breakfast that morning. So the apple kept her from suffering the embarrassment of a grumbling stomach. However, much more important for the current circumstance, it also kept her boredom and annoyance off her face.

Given the rather worrying 'situation' with the Corvetto and grumblings from the Baker's Guild, Lucretia's rather ridiculous tantrum over some petty, pompous Al-Mari noble held little importance in the garnetine's heart. The ball had been something of a disaster for everyone, best to accept the fact and move on. Besides, she'd already started putting a few tentative feelers out to try and sniff out what the Corvetto might be up to in places where Bastien could have some impact. Diverting time and energy to Lord whats-his-name, and picking a fight with the Al-Mari right now could disrupt those efforts. The house could afford a slight to the little princess, it couldn't afford to fumble a favor for the Corvetto. That would not be wise. Not wise and all, despite her own wishes to score a point or two against the Al-Mari and maybe even Alaric and Violetta's brother.

Taking another bite of apple, Sasha schools her features and simply nods her understanding of Lucretia's desires. Her eyes glance about the room wondering what her companions thought of the young woman's request. They land finally on Violetta. What the Key thought would be important. And Sasha couldn't help but wonder if she might eagerly grasp at Lucretia's annoyance for the chance to strike at her brother and his new foreign allies.

13 Gennaio, 794

Sasha doesn't really care for the pink decor. It reminds her of an old remedy Amelia used to give her when her bowels decided to go crazy. Still she actually sighs a breath of relief when they are invited into the Peppermint Palace as she refers to it in her own head rather than that dangerously cheerful chamber of dandelion colored doom that Calliope last called them into.

She still didn't think what happened was her fault. At least she is pretty certain it wasn't. Unfortunately, things are still a bit blurry in her memory. She really, honestly can't recall how she ended up in the prince's rose garden with the ambassador. She didn't even like the odious little man for Lady's sake. Was it her fault her knife could have nicked his manhood when he tried...shoving thoughts of the ball out of her mind, the ambassador was fine. He'd limp for a few weeks, but the other women of Ilrein were not denied his potential affections, unfortunately.

Sipping her tea, Sasha focuses her attention back on Calliope when the woman dispenses with the chit chat and gets down to why she'd brought them here. Sasha wasn't surprised about the Baker's Guild feeling a bit out of sorts. Whatever deal they'd had with Elanda was likely better than any being offered by the sellswords of Al-Mari who now controlled the Granary. An unfortunate situation for the Bakers to be sure, but at the time a few eggs needed to be broken. Even if money wasn't the issue, few people really liked change and Bastien had certainly caused a good deal of that in recent days.

"Any idea what might appease their wounded pride, my Lady?" Sasha says, uncertain at the moment where Bastien might be able to leverage a little bonus goodwill for the makers of the city bread.

Seems like a couple of Gather Information rolls might be in order to get started on our task. Some possible questions might be:

What is a problem or challenge that Corvetto is dealing with? What, if any, help would Bastien be the best suited to provide?

Our resource strengths are in Transport and Intelligence, so we perhaps focus on any rumors of them needing to move goods/people or find out something or find someone. Our sphere of influence being the Canals also points to a possible Transport job. Our other 'strength' is being generally on good terms with the general populace. Are they looking for a popular agitator? Criminal? Or maybe they want something smuggled through the city without the population knowing or with plausible deniability should the effort be discovered. Making House Bastien be the ones to deliver a task that would potentially generate the ire of the populace could certainly suit their needs.

We've a contact in the canals, Aurelio the Information Broker, perhaps one of those with a good Consort or Sway could see what he knows?

There are also a couple of potential 'leads' based on our session 0. That Corvetto carriage in the Twist. Could there be a connection? Maybe a Survey, Hunt, or Consort action to try and track the carriage down or where they were going/coming from in such a hurry?

Then there is the Bountiful Beauty. We've some evidence of smuggling. Maybe Corvetto wants to deal with that, but that didn't really happen until after the ball and after Constantin got ill, so probably not related.

Another thought, might be to quietly question the healers/servants sitting with Constantin. Using some guise of insuring House security or something to find out what Constantin has said throughout the day and night. Most of it will be rubbish, but something might stand out as a clue?

Finally, Lucretia might also know something. I'd guess Cesare wouldn't really want us talking to her directly in order not to have a potential failure used against him in their power struggle. But could their father have told his sister and she's holding back? Maybe to swoop in at the last moment to save Bastien but to knock Cesare down a couple of pegs.

Sorry for the long speculative post, but trying to contemplate some starting points.

12 Gennaio

Sasha gladly accepts a bottle of Bruin and a ham and cheese on rye. The healers had been particularly stingy during her recuperation and so the hardy dock grub was a welcome surprise. The only welcome surprise given Cesare's description of the 'bit of a problem' they were begin tasked to solve.

The half chewed bite of sandwich suddenly tasted like ash in her mouth when the heir of House Bastien said they owed a favor to the Corvetto, but didn't know what that favor was. Lord and Lady, how could the old man let that happen?! It isn't truly clear if she meant dealing with the Corvetto in the first place, owing them a favor, or the absurd possibility of not actually being able to follow through on that favor. To Sasha, none of those options seemed like ways to extend the length of Bastien's rise to power.

While her mind yowls like a lonely ship cat, she takes a long drink of beer to wash down the sandwich and cover her agitation. She'd a fear of the mysterious Corvetto ever since...well ever since her homeland went slipping beneath the sea. There had never been any proof of course, but she grew up listening to the rumors. In those horrible, tumultuous weeks following the disaster every garnetyne, berylyne, or lapyne had their own pet theory for what happened. Many of those theories involved the Corvetto of Ilrien. They whispered of dark pacts with even darker creatures or gods. They chattered of shadows, of sacrifices, of arcane nightmares and devilish powers conjured by Knacks sworn to secrecy and servitude. They scuttled from ear to ear saying the ancient mages of Corvetto were jealous, envious, suspicious, even afraid of the islands. Even back then she knew most of it was just gutter bunk with no more truth than a dockside harlot's promises of love and faith. Still, how often had she found that tiny kernal of truth at the center of some far-fetched rumor? Perhaps all the stories and theories were just fabrications by a people struck by a tragedy beyond understanding. Perhaps not. It was that fed those little tentacles of fear rising from the depths of her gut. It was that unknowing that allowed those slithering tendrils to squeeze her heart and kept her more than wary of the Corvetto and their schemes.

Glad to have stayed near the back of the small office, Sasha used Cesare's focus on Violetta to steady herself and calm the roiling sea of agitation churning through her gut. She wasn't some child to go hiding under the bed because the boggy man just stepped into the room. Better instead to follow that old source of fright and get some leverage on the nightmare conjuring old coot. Figure out what it was he feared, protected, wished for others not to discover. That was the way the Great Game worked and even Corvetto still had to play by its rules. Bastien had already done the impossible. She was their Eye. Mystery and the unknown seemed to wrap themselves around Ilrien's greatest house. And like any jealous lover they didn't give up their secrets easily or without price. She and her companions would just have to find a way to take them anyway.

Ah, in that case the confusion is between Lady Calliope (one of the key NPCs of House Bastien) and Calista (Kyra's mother).

In hindsight, I probably should have come up with a different name for Calliope in order to avoid this sort of confusion, but there is precedent for NPCs with confusingly similar names.

Yep, it seems I was doubly confused (this does not come as a surprise). Both between Calliope and Calista. And the fact that Calista wanted to borrow it as well, not that she owned it.

I think I may need to start a quick google doc to try and keep all of the NPC's straight.

Sorry, I could have sworn Kyra had posted something about the shirt actually belonging to her mother early on, but now I can't find it. I'm fine with it just being Kyra's, I was actually trying to circle it back to what I thought she had posted.

12 Gennaio, 794

It had been four days. Four days of pain. Four days of healers concoctions. Four days of apologies. Four days of curses, threats, and warnings. Four days of extra work. That last courtesy of Calliope whose fury over the loss of what was apparently her blouse and not Kyra's was not to be underestimated regardless of advice given by the healer.

The arrival of a summons from Cesare was more than a welcome blessing despite her still stiff joints and fading bruises. Putting on her leathers, best boots and cloak she arrives with her companions ready to serve her house as best she can.

8 Gennaio, 794

Fortunately the darkness prevents Salvio from seeing the wild smile plastered across Sasha's filth stained and soaked face. Either the cramped, foul smelling darkness had finally caused the garnetyne's mind to snap or she was actually enjoying herself. Sister Amelia would probably make the astute observation that those two things were not mutually exclusive. A light laugh rises above the constant sound of water moving through the tunnels.

"I'm afraid so." She says glancing back up the dark shaft they'd just crawled through. "There's no way I could actually climb back up through that. Just let me think a moment."

Closing her eyes, she tries to recall the area up and down from Petra's stand. The old buildings. Mostly a mix of warehouses, rundown tenements, bars that catered to sailors, dockers, and anyone else desperate enough to drink the cheap swill they usually sold, and of course, Fisherman's Wharf. The wharf was where the handful of independent fisherman operated from. Their leaky, ramshackle boats lining the decrepit pier along the canal not so very far from the dark walls of the Silent and the Necropolitan Hill. Not part of the official city fishing fleet, the independents eeked out an existence on the scraps and leftovers that the Elandan backed fleet deemed unworthy of their efforts. Most independents were former fleet members who couldn't keep up with the high dues and tithes extracted by House Elanda. It also just so happened that most of the independents were former islanders like herself. Such was life and opportunity in Ilrien.

See remembers sitting atop an old piling eating a Puck one summer afternoon. She watched the gulls swirl around the boats like flies around a carcass and listened to a pair of fishermen complain about their latest catch, or lack thereof. Remembers seeing the sewer outlet just a few dozen paces away. The slow oozing trickle of gravy brown sludge dropping into the canal was all too similar to Petra's thick greasy, biscuit soaking special. She turns back to the gulls and takes another bite of gravy soaked biscuit.

Crouching there in the cramped confines of the sluice, she traces an imaginary line back from that outlet to where she is now. It wasn't far. It was downstream. There was more than a good chance this tunnel leads to that outlet. She was certain. Pretty certain. Desperately certain. That this tunnel would lead to that outlet.

She grabs Salvio as the rumble of another surge floods through the tunnel. Her grip isn't that of a frail noble's daughter as might be expected of someone her size. No. It is the iron grasp of one who's spent most of her years climbing rigging, scraping hulls, and bucking the great sacks of goods on and off the trade ships of the Jeweled Cities and Ilrein.

As soon as the flood passes she swipes her hair back out of her eyes and turns to the boy. "I've got an idea. It means we get wet." A pause when the boy snorts at the obvious. "Okay we get really, really wet." The grin on her face carries through to her voice causing them both to spend a few seconds giggling as if they'd just pulled some playground prank. "Right." She says before they hysteria can overwhelm them both. "I've a good idea as to where this sluice runs. I think it dumps into the canal not so very far from here. We can make it." That last is said with a confidence that is part truthful but mostly bravado and spitting in the eye of her own fear. "Wrap your arms around my neck." She says twisting around in the tiny space as if she were going to give the lad a simple piggyback ride. "When I say, take the deepest breath you can and whatever happens, don't let go." She taps Salvio on his arm. "Got it?"

"Got it."

She waits for the next surge to rumble through the tunnel and steps out into the pulling current. "NOW!" She shouts and feels his grip clamp about her chest and shoulders. She starts crawling as fast as she can to pick up a little speed and control. A heartbeat later the water slams into the pair picking them up and carrying them along in its rush toward the sea. An old board claps her in the head. Her arms and legs are scrapped, battered, torn as she's dragged across the rough stone and brick of the ancient tunnel. Long seconds pass. Her lungs start to burn, start to cry out for air. Salvio's grip tightens desperately around her chest. She twines her hand with his, squeezes a last remnant of reassurance. Just hold on. Her shoulder slams into the wall as the tunnel curves slightly. Pain lances along her arm and she stifles the urge to scream and release what precious little oxygen remains in her lungs.

Fire burns in her chest. She feels Salvio's grip start to slip. Grabs him tighter. Suddenly, the echoing rush and rumble of the water changes. The darkness ahead is broken by a circle of slightly lighter grayish black. She squeezes the boy's hand again, gathers herself as best she can. Moments later Sasha with Salvio clamped to her back like a small, terrified barnacle shoots like a cannonball from the spillway and out into the canal. Her flailing legs and arms accompanied by a handful of gasping breathes and a single strangled cry before she hits the water with a flesh bruising *SLAP*

8 Gennaio, 794

"No, it didn't stop at the Granary." Sasha says, memorizing the boy's tale. "I suppose it's the Lady's own dark humor that put me on the spot to find you just after those Calrayan's did. We'd have gotten away clean if it hadn't been for that bast...errr...daft lad and his globe of knockout gas."

Following Salvio's gaze, Sasha nods quietly at his judgement. He wasn't wrong. She'd need to shed most everything she was wearing to be able to squeeze through. Fortunately, her captors had already seen to most of that already. Her knives, pistol, even her specially crafted lockpicks were gone. Probably already halfway to the nearest pawnshop.

"I've been in plenty of tight spots." She says. "Cleaned out more than my fair share of bilges when I was growing up." Her nose wrinkles at the remembered smells of filthy, lowest most, innards of her families trading ships. "Mucking out the slime and grime. My dad was a stickler before the fall. Every nook and cranny had to be cleared, else it was back down and do it all again." As she talks, Sasha slips out of her leather jerkin and boots and sets them aside. She's left standing there in nothing but Kyra's tattered blouse, her tights and stocking feet. She didn't relish the loss of her gear, but better than spilling blood. "And I really haven't grown all that much since."

Putting her head down to the opening, she ignores the stench drifting up from the narrow opening and instead turns her head to listens for several seconds. The rush of flowing water was loud. The storm had turned the usually stagnant waters of the city sewers into something more akin to a mountain river cascading from the cloud shrouded heights. And they were close. Not very far down at all. The benefit of being this close to the sea.

The squeaking of a rat on the run from the storm flood made her grin. Amelia had always accused her of being part rat because she was always slipping in and out of places where she wasn't supposed to be. Here she was about to attempt another even more desperate and foolhardy escape. It seemed only fitting she was about to join her fellow unwelcome creatures in swimming for her life. At least they wouldn't have to worry about running into smugglers or any of the other usual denizens that lurked in the dank depths of Ilrien. Still, she turns back to Salvio. She'd practically grown up in the water. Like most islanders, she'd learned to swim before she could walk. But despite his garnetyne skin, the boy had grown up in Ilrein, not the Jeweled Cities.

"Can you swim?"

She shakes her head. "Probably doesn't really matter." Using the rusty knife as best she can, she rips off several lengths of her blouse and expertly knots the silk strips together. Creating a small loop at each end, she puts one loop over her wrist and hands the other to Salvio. "Grab on to that and slip the loop over your wrist. That way, assuming we make it through to the sewers, we won't get separated and I can help you stay afloat."

With one last glance at the door upstairs, she nods to the boy and gives him a fae grin. "Well, best we not push the Lady's grace any longer. Let's get going before more trouble arrives." She says and then starts to slither her way down the drain.

Not a fan of discord or having a second place to check for information about the game. And since I am on US West Coast time, I'm not sure how often I'd actually be online at the same time as others.

8 Gennaio, 794

A knot of worry unravels in her gut when the boy’s voice breaks through the drum patter of the pouring rain. A large enough overdose of root has sent more than a few souls into the Lady’s embrace. Salvio up and talking meant that whoever mixed up that batch of alchemical gas wasn’t much on keeping to the proper ratios. The boy should’ve been out three times longer than she was given his size and weight compared to hers.

She looks down at her thin and at the moment, dirt covered and tattered frame. Sighs. Okay, maybe only twice as long. Her workouts with Elisabetta had surely added a few pounds here or there. Surely. As if mocking her hope, the rope finally slips and she pulls her slim hand free. Another sigh. Mother used to call her ‘her little fae princess.’ A waif. Sack of skin and bones. And plenty else, she’d been called over the years. Much of it worse than simple comments on her size.

Slowly bringing her hands around to look at the damage to her wrists and rub a little feeling back into her fingers she nods at the keen-eyed Salvio and smiles. ”I am like you.” She says in a soft whisper. ”Garnetyne, orphaned, a favorite of Sister Amelia, has the Lady’s own worst luck, and likely much too curious and head strong for my own good.” Her smile broadens. ”But that last bit may only apply to me.”

Sasha holds out her hand to shake his as if they were meeting in the common room of some posh eatery in the Rose. ”I’m Sasha. Pleased to meet you Salvio.” She shifts her legs into a more comfortable position and tries a few stretches to see what if any effects of the Targras root remained in her system. As she does so, she keeps talking to the boy in soft whisper.

”Can’t say I’m really somebody. Most of us islanders are still considered outsiders by folk here. It’s not really meanness or spite that makes it that way. There’s just a lot of fear wrapped up in what happened.” She reaches out and touches the tips of her toes, her forehead pressed against her leg in a single, graceful motion. ”Since most in Ilrien think the sinking of the islands was some divine retribution delivered by the Lord and Lady for our great sins, folk don’t want to take a chance of that curse rubbing off on them.” Her face turns sour like she’d just bit deep into a lemon. ”Of course it’s all hogwash. No one really knows for sure what happened. But my heart tells me it t’wasn’t Lord or Lady that caused our home to sink beneath the sea. If I had to guess, I’d say it was someone messing with the Weave of the World. Magic. Big whodoo gone all wrong.” She waves a hand in the air dismissively. ”Or the sea just got a bit over hungry and decided to treat itself to the best, prettiest morsels of land in all the world.”

”But look at me rambling on like some school girl.” She snorts a very unladylike snort and shakes her head. ”Must be the damned gas. Always makes me talkative. I may not be much of a Somebody, but I’ve friends who are. And when we get out of here, we're going to go see them.”

She glances around the room. Doesn’t find much of any use. A few rotting barrels. Old nets. Buckets filled with dried tar. A few old scrapers, knives, planes. A mass of moldy silk and canvas. A crab pot. A broken oar. Someone used to own a fishing boat. She decides. Debris lines the corner across the way where the wall’s crumbling. A narrow stream of water flows from damage. Her eyes follow that growing trickle to a low point in the floor and an ancient, rusted drain grate. A drain that would almost certainly lead to sewers or maybe directly to the beaches. A way out. Narrow, but perhaps not too narrow. Certainly Kyra or Luciana couldn’t do it. But a skinny waif of a woman like herself. Someone with the womanly figure of a fourteen year old boy. It was possible. She looks back at Salvio.

”Amelia asked me to find you. She was worried because you’d been gone for so long. I promised her I’d do my best to see you back safe.” She says, moving over to take a closer look at the grate after listening for any sounds of the occupants upstairs getting curious about their prisoners. Hearing none, she presses on. ”Now, I keep my promises, so I’d rather we got out of here without spilling any blood or putting you in any more danger. She looks at her own bleeding wrists and the handful of other cuts marking her body. ”Okay…any more blood.” She adds with a grim smile. ”If my ears aren’t befuddled from that targras they dosed me with, I’d wager that the woman I heard earlier is the wife of a mean piece of work who I’d rather not tangle with unarmed, drugged, and with a young, dashing lad like yourself to see after. So in order for me to keep my promise, we’re going to have to get a little creative and a whole lot dirtier.”

Grabbing one of the thin bladed scrapers, she starts carefully slipping it all around the edge of the grate, slowly loosening and scraping clear what little mortar still exists. As she works, she glances over at the boy. ”Amelia said you liked watching them unload the grain ships. Even counted how many barrels or sacks went on or off.” She says casually as if she was discussing nothing more important than the weather. ”How many do you think came off the Bountiful Beauty?”

Because that was the real prize and why she was stowed down in this hole. Why there was almost no chance of them walking out of this oversized grave. Somebody or nobody, it wouldn't make any difference. Someone was smuggling goods and using the Granary as their front. Not particularly broadsheet worthy information in a city built on smuggling. She stops her work and checks the little pocket sewn into the interior of her trousers. Felt the hard black powder grains still tucked there. But a shipload of black powder, that was a whole different story.

She feels the grate pop free and a feral smile once again crosses her features.

8 Gennaio, 794

No good deed goes unpunished. It is the first thought that Sasha’s mind whispers into her aching head. This is quickly followed by the all too predictable and obvious announcement that a dose of tagras root always leaves her with a splitting headache. It punctuates this obvious point by causing her stomach to do a tumbling routine fit for one of the Prince’s acrobatic troupes. As she scoots away from the mess that was remains of her meager lunch, the final bit of insight flitters its way through her muddled mind like a drunken bat. Had she been foolish enough to trigger her Charm before the gas had taken her. She really didn’t want to spoil the Elisabetta's evening at the ball. More importantly she didn’t really want to face her temper, not with this aching head. Unfortunately, the answer to garnetyne’s question would have to wait since the lingering tendrils of the targras reasserted its own authority over her system and moments later the warm embrace of unconsciousness wrapped it’s cloak about her mind once again.

She isn’t sure what wakes her the second time. The constant drone of the rain. The storms downpour pounding the boardwalk and flowing off the roof like a jungle waterfall. Or was it the incessant nasal voice of Petra trying to sell one of his wretched Slithering Pucks to any poor soul desperate enough to fork over a brass for a helping of stewed canal eel served over a hard biscuit and swimming in what can only be gratuitously called gravy. It was a meal that could make anyone with any sense of taste or self preservation run to the nearest guild bakery just to take in the cleansing scent of well baked bread and sweet rolls. Sasha was a regular. Petra?

Recognizing the voice of the old man sent a jolt through her system. Either Petra had moved his little stand in the Docks, which would have been a monumental event not witnessed by man, beast, or eel in fifty years, or she was no longer anywhere near where this whole fiasco had started. How she ended up in a south shore cellar more than a half day’s walk from the Granary, that was a question still lost in a targras haze.

She takes a deep breath. Let’s the air fill her lungs. Draws it in to cleanse the lingering effects of the poison from her system. She draws another. Smells the stale, musty, dampness of a little used cellar. There was also the smell of fish, but nearly every cellar and storage room along the Shore smelled of fish. And the tar used to seal the ships. This one was no different. Occasionally the smell of spices and hot sauce drifted in from Petra's making her stomach grumble.

Listening to the wind whistle through the foundation of whatever rundown dockside shack her kidnappers had tossed her into, she tries to bring the day’s events into focus. It all started with her visit to Sister Amelia. Following the disaster that took her home, her family, and most of her people, she’d spent the rest of her youth in the Sister’s care and especially under the tutelage of Sister Amelia. Amelia had been her favorite among those harsh mistresses of the Lady’s Blessing. Quick of mind, stern, but softened with kindness and a real caring for those fallen into her care. A stark contrast to the others whose harsh lessons and punishments flowed out of bitterness, spite, or broken dreams. Amelia was also a first class healer and midwife. It was from her that Sasha learned the basics about treating wounds, sicknesses or helping bring a child into the world.

Sasha still visited her every couple of weeks. Usually they just had tea, prayed, and then gossiped a little while strolling the Temple grounds. Amelia can't get around like she used to. Yet while her body was fading, her mind was still sharp as a Bravo's blade. So it was surprising to see the usually stoic woman in such an agitated state when Sasha arrived that morning. One of the children had gone missing. Another young garnetyne. A boy named Salvio.

”He’s a good boy.” Amelia said, her eyes glimmering with tears. ”And smart, a thinker. A lover of books and learning. More so than you were.” She adds with a teasing smile to her former student.

”Yes, but does he have my roguish charm?” Sasha adds with a soft laugh.

”Indeed not, my dear girl. Thank the Lady.” As quickly as the good humor arrives it slips away. ”He would not just stay away like this. It has been a whole day. Something has happened.” She turns her increasingly cloudy eyes to Sasha and grips her hand with a firmness that says there is still strength in this old body. ”The Watch will do nothing. The other Sisters have no time to look for one wayward child. Will you find him? Bring him home?”

The wind rattles a loose shutter somewhere above. Sasha sighs. Of course she'd said yes. Agreed to find one lone boy in a city full of boys and girls and all manner of ways for one to disappear. Salvio apparently liked to watch the ships unloading at the Granary. Liked guessing the number of sacks each ship carried. So off she went to find a needle in a grain silo.

The targras root was weakening. Fortunately a gas created from the stuff was much less potent than if it had been slipped into her coffee or evening wine. Voices drift down from above. Something about the woman’s voice triggers an alarm in her head. It was time for her to start working a way out of this predicament. Rolling onto her side, she stifles a groan. And doesn't curse yet another ruined set of trousers and the shirt she'd borrowed from Kyra that morning. Instead she gives thanks to the Lady for ensuring that whoever had tied the knots on her bindings wasn’t a sailor. With practiced ease she starts working the poorly secured ropes. Slowly at first, and then with greater urgency, she works her wrists back and forth. Staring into the darkness, she focuses her attention on the small dim outline. Uses that to motivate and push through the pain and blood now coating her wrists. There in the darkness, a few feet away she could just make out the small, pale shape of another small body. Smell the grain dust on his clothes. Hear the sound of his slow, even breathing. At least she’d found the boy and he was still alive.

What still needs doing?

Pretty sure we still need to pick our House special ability, our two House upgrades and our second house Strength to go with our starting Transport strength.

Special ability: I think Care & Patience or Well-earned Acclaim are my top choices. Care & Patience probably is the most overall useful at this early stage.

Upgrades: The Lady's Blessing seems solid even if we just use it for that bonus on the Engagement roll. Not sure on the second upgrade, maybe Arcane Wards, Hidden Exit, or one of the Quality Upgrades (Weapons?)?

Strength: Magic, maybe, since we don't have a lot of resources in that department. I could see it being a strength as the House helps support or hide amongst the crowds, those downtrodden Knacks, hedge wizards, or wise women who don't wish to serve the almighty House Corvetto. Going another direction, Intelligence could fit as being the house of the people any servant, barmaid, street cleaner, sewer worker,etc. could willingly pass along information to our spy masters and this might enhance our already solid abilities on the social interaction and intelligence gathering side of things.

The Granary makes some sense from a purely RP perspective since breaking Elanda's hold on grain was how Bastien came to power. But otherwise, it doesn't seem as interesting.

From a straight up bonuses angle, The Canals works for all the reasons Kyra mentions. Although having the +1d for all healing rolls with The Temples is hard to pass up. (But that is probably just because my last BitD character failed nearly every healing roll he made which just exacerbated the already slow healing system.) The Theater could also be interesting for its bonus to Deception engagements, but also as a place where elite and common mix.

Here a rough idea for the Prince of House Bastien. Totally open to something else, but this is what came to me.

Constantin. His mother, was a cleaner at the university, his father a dockworker. A smart boy who learned to read, write and do his numbers from the many books his mother would 'borrow' from the university library. This learning led him some early successes in trade and other endeavors where he parlayed a few coins into a small fortune. But Constantin was not just driven by wealth as so many often are, he also had a kind heart and wished to do something more for all of those around him. Do something to ease the stranglehold of the Great Houses upon the city and its citizens. Out of this desire, he developed a dream. A dream of a city ruled not by Dread Emperors, aloof, greedy noblity, and the shadow filled fear and secrets of Corvetto and its arcane enforcers. Instead it would be a city of hope, a city of laws enforced with fairness and equality. A city where even the lowest scrubber or sailor could achieve a life that held more than simple survival. It is this dream that put Constatin on the path that would eventually lead to the rise of House Bastien. With a mixture of charm, shrewd planning, and daring, finessed use of bloodshed Constantin achieved the unthinkable by creating the first new Great House in 200 years. For this, he is either loved or hated.

Despite his success in founding a Great House, change in any culture and society happens with glacial speed. And many do not welcome such changes as this false Prince of this upstart House would embrace. Constantin grows old. The dream remains, but its fulfillment is still far off. So far in fact, that this proud champion of the common people knows the gods may take him before the work is complete. Still loved by most in the House, and he is still a master thinker and planner. But there is no doubting that age is catching up with the first Prince of House Bastien. Occasional slips in speech or wandering thoughts. A shake in his hand. These signs have set others vying for power. Jockeying to become the next Prince of House Bastien.

For now Constantin still rules, but for how long and will this new House and its founders dream survive the coming change in leadership?

On the subject of worldbuilding then...

Recent Developments
House Corvetto has 'gone dark' in recent years. Oh, of course their hostesses still give balls, the Prince is a great player in politics and its bravos and bravas can be seen swaggering around the city with the best of them, but the truly astute have noticed movement in the background. The Prince of Corvetto is a known non-entity, gifted in neither power or magic. The bravos swagger but they rarely fight and the great displays of power and magic which used to characterise every Corvetto gathering have been replaced with more mundane displays of fireworks and artifice. Impressive to be sure but not magic.

There is no consensus as to why, or even what, the House of Magic is doing but those who observe them are certain that something is going on. Much like small ripples on the surface may foretell the rise of a mighty leviathan Something is coming. The only questions are What and When.

Building off of this a little, could Corvetto have gone dark around the same time the Jeweled Cities sank into the sea? The cities were more advanced in magic than Corvetto? Could the entire cataclysm have been the result of a House plot? The goal was to just weaken the cities enough for Ilrein (Corvetto) to overtake their lead in magical knowledge and trade. However, something went wrong? The islands were utterly destroyed. What was released during this apocalypse? Was that really the intention all along, or did something go terribly wrong and now the House is still dealing with the aftermath and consequences? Did it weaken the House terribly, or did it strengthen it beyond belief? If the latter, then maybe they have not figured out how to harness or control this power? Until they do, they remain quiet. Not to mention maintaining the cover up is essential because if the truth became public knowledge it could lead to huge problems for the House and the city both internally and externally.

Might be venturing too far into GM territory here, but I thought I'd throw it out there anyway. :)

Violetta: Having a common enemy sounds good. Since your brother ran off to the Al Mari, I could totally see Sasha's mercenary rival and former countryman, Alaric, being a trusted Captain of your brother's. Perhaps he joined and rose in the ranks of the mercenary company your brother funded with your family wealth. Or maybe Alaric is a key enforcer or blade your brother uses for his most underhanded or deadly schemes. Either way, we'd each want to see them both taken out of the Great Game.

I totally missed that we were starting out at Tier 2, so thanks for pointing that out.

Here are a few possible bond ideas:

Elisabetta: Sasha believes in you more than you may believe in yourself. She's seen you with a blade and is deeply impressed with your grace and skill. Because of this she believes that you are the one she'd want to pull her out if her cover’s ever blown. In addition, you've seen Sasha slip unseen up nearly smooth walls or climb a ship's rigging like a spider crossing her web. Seeing such natural grace and physical ability wasted skulking in the shadows is a shame. The House needs Bravo's and Sasha has the spark, so you will teach her what you know.

Luciana: The Groan forges people in its dark, twisting alleys and hovels furnished with nothing but desperation and the need to survive to see another sunrise. For a child, the heat of the furnace is hotter and the pounding hammer of the smith even stronger. Just like the artisans of the finest blades are recognized in each lethal length of steel, the Groan leaves it own telltale marks of its craft. On those rare occasions when someone truly escapes the depths of the Groan they usually do everything they can to put that past behind them. But like recognizes like. So it is that despite all the various personas or layers Sasha wears despite the fact her job is to hide her true self, you can see her anyway. Of course, this is a two way street and thus Sasha often sees you not as you are, but as you want to be. It means the world to you.

Kyra: What you proposed makes sense to me. You sponsored Sasha into the House, now we both have to excel or suffer the consequences. Unfortunately the connection quickly came to the attention of Calista and now she has ordered Sasha to watch you and report back to her. Sasha doesn't know why, although she might assume it is just a mother worried about her daughter, but it doesn't really matter since she has no choice.

Here is an idea for House Bastien:

Bastien rose to power on the back of disaster which the founding council saw as an opportunity. A recent drought created severe food shortages within the city. The founders of Bastien (an alliance of minor guilds and or families some legitimate, some not) through a bold and clever use of negotiation, coercion, and some brute force managed to break a stranglehold that House Elanda had created on the grain trade. During the plot they managed to pilfer resources from several of the other Houses which is one of the real reasons Bastien is so disliked. Bravos from Battalia joined their cause, a handful of spies and networks changed allegiances from Lovell. And of course, Elanda lost control over a key market and relationships with the Bakers and Dockers guilds. Corvetto, mostly sat on the sidelines. The reasons for that neutrality aren't clear, but rumors say that promises were made and that eventually Bastien will need to pay what they owe. The threat of the masters of the arcane setting their malice fully on Bastien may also be one of the few things keeping those within Bastien from tapping the full power of the populace. As for the Al-Mari, a healthy portion of the grain to feed their own mercenaries was enough to swing them temporarily to the cause. With the crisis over the two Houses have gone their separate ways once again.

But now, what to do with its new and growing power and influence? Some within Bastien wish to build upon their success and push for an all out revolution of the people, no matter the threat of Corvetto and the other Houses. Combine the power of the mob with blood,steel, and their own Knacks to oust the Prince and the other factions. Put Bastien in control of the city and finally bring justice and wealth and security to those who really do the work. Others see that as a path to disaster believing changes that could better serve the poorer multitudes of the city must come through more peaceful and nuanced means. Whether one of these two internal factions win out or a third or fourth way rises to control could determine the fate of the House.

Thanks for the invite. Looking forward to the game.

For the House choice, I think Bastien is still my top choice, but I can make any of them work.

Bastien: This one just kind of makes sense for Sasha having spent most of her life in the Groan, Twist, Shore, or Lady's Own district's among the poorer citizens and laborers of Ilrien. Her education among the Sisters gives her a connection to the common folk and to see them better off. And she would see more potential opportunity for her own advancement in a House that relied more on a person's skills, connections and abilities vs. noble blood or raw magical or martial talent.

Lovell: It might also make sense for Sasha to have been recruited by Lovell at one point in time given her minor information brokering and her garnetyne heritage. Although young when the disaster of the Jeweled Cities struck, she may still know or have clues to where certain stashes of magical items or artifacts might be found. Perhaps the House is more interested in her than she is in them. For her, their knowledge of all that happens in Ilrien would certainly be a boon for her trying to regain some of her family and nation's wealth as well as her ship.

Battalia: I think this House would bring out a slightly more militant Sasha. Not blood thirsty, but much more willing to shed blood or fight for what she needs, wants, or believes. Perhaps that would actually be at odds with what the House needs her to be, which is a set of quiet, discreet eyes and ears to help gather the information needed to direct the 'real blades and bravos' of the House. This might lead to occasional tension with House leadership. However, their sense of honor and tradition would also appeal to her and could more often than not be one of the common threads that hold her to the House.

Elanda: With her family and people's merchant background and her ability to move among the sailors and dockworkers gathering rumors of which captains are sailing where, when, and with what goods, Elanda could be a good fit. Given their economic focus, it is likely they have strong ties to the Fortunato Trading Company or it is a main competitor. If the later, she'd be more than willing to serve the House. If the former, then she might be playing a more dangerous game of trying to make change or take what she wants from within.

Corvetto: The Jeweled Cities were home to great masters of magical arts and study. There was power that came with that mastery. Power that Sasha would hope to regain to both aid herself and the other refugees of the islands. Corvetto seems like a natural partner for her to learn and rediscover that power. In return, the House might be interested in her own knowledge of what the Cities once achieved. Although young, she grew up with magic as part of nearly every aspect of her days. And being from a trading family with assets once scattered across the region, perhaps she recalls or knows where caches of those lost wonders might exist.

Al-Mari: Probably a tougher fit for Sasha, but perhaps the joint appeal of being outsiders in the eyes of most people of Ilrein. Having suffered as a refugee of a sunken island and been the victim of fear and superstition she finds the common thread of outsiders bringing change to the city whether it wants it or not a solid grounds for serving. Internal conflict might arise due to her background with Alaric, who is now a mercenary and perhaps serving within another branch of the House.

Sasha's initial goal is to buy back her family ship (or make enough to purchase a new ship) and make a big score against the Fortunato Trading Company. Other group-type goals might depend on the actual House we decide to serve or something that comes up as we figure out the various Bonds between the group.

WW: I've added some background bullets to Sasha's profile. The family heirloom would be similar to a Lucky Charm and also is the focus for her Channel since she isn't a Knack. Let me know if anything doesn't work. It's all still changeable. I couldn't find anything that states an exact date for when the islands sank, so I went with 20 years. Can fill in actual House details once that is finalized. I can fill in other stuff along through the game.

Pretty settled on her initial skill choices, but I'm still bouncing a bit between Infiltrator or the Shadow special ability.

Here is Sasha Elena Pyrope, Eye originally hailing from the sunken Jeweled City of Garnetyne. I have the basics and will start working up a background over the next couple of days.