The Twins by Proxy's page

Standing and stretching, the female twin crosses the room to her hostess. "Dear, its been a beautiful evening but we must be off. My brother sails for gods know where in the morning, and I have been dispatched on a diplomatic mission to the north. Your hospitality was surely the pride of Taldor."

Sighing, her male counterpart joins his sister and offers her his arm. "Sister. It is not wise to discuss Imperial business." Turning to regard the Lady of the house, he continues, "You have been a most gracious hostess, Snow Princess. We will remember the evening fondly. I regret that the demands of my station call us away." Disregarding the proffered arm, his sister makes for the door and the waiting carriage. The male Twin lingers a moment and adds in a whisper, "I apologize about the chair..." Then, he turns and strides after her into the night.

At the mention of little folk, the female Twin perks up. "Oh, Snow Princess, are you having problems with your slips?" the female Twin inquires. "They do demand a firm hand to keep them in line."

The male Twin's chin dips slightly towards his chest, "I wish you wouldn't use racial slurs, dear sister. Its most unbecoming."

"Nonsense, brother, they're only slips. You don't complain when I call a chair a chair, or a dress a dress, you shouldn't care when I call a slip a slip," The female Twin says matter-of-factly.

"Regardless... Snow Princess, would you require aid identifying this mysterious invisible thief? I'm sure my sister and I can locate the scoundrel." As he finishes speaking, the male Twin reaches one hand up a sleeve.

"Oh, yes," she resumes, having found the idea she was looking for. "The Pathfinders make heavy use of the Hao Jin Tapestry to move themselves back and forth from Absalom. It could be used to move this army as well! That would greatly reduce the provisions required to support this army on its way to the Worldwound, as well as make supplying them with arms simple as well!"

The Princess smiles. "And if there are any problems at our southern border, the Qadirans would know that our army could be upon them within hours. Between the good reputation the Masked Cat wishes to promote and the Hao Jin Tapestry, our chances are greatly improved. The Society wants to solve the matter of the Worldwound, so they would be glad to make use of the Tapestry to that end, I would assume?"

If her mask were capable of showing emotion, the female Twin would surely be beaming. "Snow Princess, your beauty is only surpassed by your wisdom and brilliance; of course the Society will donate their treasured weapon to the cause! After all, if Taldor threatens to withdraw its forces should the use of the Tapestry be withheld, the Ten will have no choice but to comply or risk losing their precious Sky Citadel."

The male Twin's tone, by contrast, betrays his disappointment. "Removing the obstacle of marching to Mendev does not magically fabricate an army to do so. You still must recruit, arm, and train such a force, and whatever force you send is more likely to die there than in transit, Tapestry or no."

The female Twin picks up again. "Exactly, my brother! Which is why the vassal states should do the dying, while Taldor claims the glory for leading them."

I fear I'll have to give the dance a pass. I don't know how responsive I can be these days. Sorry.

The Samurai slowly clenches and unclenches his fist, restraining his emotions. "To send an army of vassals without the proper support is folly, yes," he says almost calmly, though a quiver of anger remains in his voice. "That would be like scheduling a new recruit's Confirmation inside Jormundun. What our princess proposes and intends is a joint effort, drawn from those who still possess some noble spine within their backs, from those who wish to be a part of the most heroic endeavor since The Shining Crusade beat back the Whispering Tyrant. We don't want soldiers en masse - we seek heroes, the sort that can stare down one of your demons and drown out their deadly words with their battle cries. We would guard against the Southern Empire? Fine - leave our guards. While you would stand behind the lines and bark orders, those of us who recall what heroes the Empire had shall remind the others of what it takes to defeat a foe as deadly as the Abyss - strength and the power of will to wield it."

The male Twin cocks his head to the Midnight Samurai, his once flat voice rising heatedly as he speaks. "Are you mad, or merely drunk? This is no rally before the masses; there are no gullible fools here. Your words are empty and meaningless. The Shining Crusade was a war, and several armies were required to fight it. So too were the crusades that held the Worldwound in check. A half-dozen grave robbers won't close the Worldwound; that nonsense is the stuff of campfire tales. Closing the Worldwound will require an army," he continues, gesturing expansively with one arm, "One larger than any single nation can field, and most of those who march will die abroad. Drunkenly invoking mythic heroes to be your salvation is sheer lunacy and unbecoming of a leader." As he speaks the robed and masked man quivers with some restrained emotion.

Meanwhile, his female counterpart has become distracted by the antics of the Kuthroda Rat, so enraptured by his efforts at investigating the wall that she has failed entirely to mask her interest. Her partner's rising voice and gestures catch her attention, though, and she turns to lay a hand on his shoulder, leaning close to whisper in his ear.

*The Dark Lady scoffs at these treasures.*

"How dare you attempt to deceive us with your petty parlor tricks? This is worse than the time Karzoug tried to pay his share of the reparations to Bakrakhan with crystalline vessels conjured through major creation and a variety of expensive jewelry made out of failed servants via polymorph any object."

The female Twin titters a bit as the Dark Lady speaks. "Jewelry made out of failed servants? For amusement's sake alone, that should be worth something." Her brother stiffens, appearing less than amused, but is quickly distracted by the Midnight Samurai's assessment of the Worldwound.

"Have you ever seen the Worldwound? Fought a true demon? A real one, not one of the yipping hounds that some petty conjurors believe they control. We have. We have seen entire commands slaughtered without so much as a word; simply a look, then death."

His sister, finally having recovered from her amusement at earring servants, manages to control her voice long enough to continue her twin's comments.

"Indeed. A unit drained of water, reduced to armor and dust. Soldiers flailing uselessly up at a giant beast, their weapons unable to penetrate its tough hide while it sweeps them aside with but a word. These aren't even the most foul of the creatures; merely the ones we have seen."

As his twin appears ready to ramble further on the finer points of demonology, the male Twin interjects, "No army alone can overcome the Pit, not even Taldor's. Should you throw your armies at the Worldwound, should you march singing to your doom, no Satrap worth his or her title would dare not invade Taldor; there would be no army left to protect her."

The female Twin picks up the argument again. "Thus we say again, send not your armies into the Rift. Taldor can be a mighty power broker again, but better that others do the lifting. Andoran eyes are turned ever south to Cheliax, blinded to their motherland. Molthune, Nirmathas, and the shattered remains of Isger fear the infernal lash and clamor for a protector. Lastwall, Ustalav, and Mendev are full of crusaders ready to die on a demon's spear. The armies of Avistan are ready to march, awaiting only a command. Taldor's voice can be the one to order them all to war, saving her own soldiers for what comes after."

The masked twins stare blankly at the Midnight Samurai for a moment before the female Twin turns to her brother and speaks.

"Brother, you see why decadent Taldor falls? Its intellectuals swill wine and dismiss their greatest defeats while the 'lost colony' to the south embraces progress and the 'lost colony' to the west monetizes their vast natural resource wealth." Throughout her speech, the female Twin's voice slowly rises.

"It is their great weakness, sister, and why the Lady Morilla swims upriver," her brother replies slowly, his tone kept carefully neutral, "The Even-Tongued Conquest itself was as much seizing an opportunity created by Taldor's foolish military belligerence abroad as it was brilliant military and diplomatic maneuvering by then-Governor Aspix. Perhaps if Taldor spent more time speaking with her neighbors and less time speaking to them, she would understand why saber-rattling is a wasted diplomatic exercise?"

The Twins turn in unison to face their host, and the male Twin addresses her question. "A show of military might in the Worldwound would do much for Taldor's standing in the world. Any action for the good of more than just the Taldan nobility will grow Taldor's political capital abroad and strengthen her position at the bargaining table with her neighbors. I would concern myself less with the value of the expedition, which is clear, and more with how that political capital is spent after it is accrued. There is little use dwelling on the aftermath of failure; if the Worldwound breaks Queen Galfrey's line, there will be no nations left for Taldor to conquer."

The Samurai quaffs yet another glass of wine, though seems no worse the wear for his hearty imbibing. He waves at the Snow Princess' question. "One helps Taldor by reminding the Inner Sea of our place and reclaiming it!," he roars. "Once, we have stood upon the backs of the devil-worshippers and anarchic firebrands that pollute the air with their nonsense. Once, we stood as their betters through force of arms and right of rule. Through such great victories again, we shall return to being the pillar of Golarion, the light of Avistan - the divided nations shall again gather willingly under our banner to be a part of the new Age of Destiny that our glory will create!"

Sipping her own wine, the female Twin listens attentively to the Midnight Samurai's speech. After swirling the wine in her glass for a few moments, she responds.

"Your speech might play well on the battlefield, but I hope Taldor's politicians are wise enough to discard such a militaristic course as the fool's gold it is. Was not it the Even-Tongued Conquest, carried out by a Taldan governor, that led to the Empire's splintering? Surely, repeating the same failed plan again and again is the definition of madness."

The white-clad woman locks eyes with her Twin, and he continues the narrative.

"To rise again as a glorious power, Taldor must learn from its errors. It must engage in a painful self-examination to identify its failures and purge its weakness. While her armies were mighty, Taldor never saw the might of the spoken word until Aspex the Even-Tongued carved himself half the empire without so much as drawing his sword. Military might will win you riches, but an empire demands more."

The two Twins continue to stare only at each other as the female Twin proceeds.

"Taldor must see the error of her ways and embrace what made the Cheliax of old great. She cannot rule through guile and trade; Qadira is the Gateway to the East, and Cheliax controls entry to Tien lands through Corentyn and the Arch of Aroden. No, Taldor might win much through strength of arms but the days where her military might was unmatched are gone. Andoran, Cheliax, and the Keleshites that back Qadira all boast stronger armies and Osirion can call on its terrible elemental allies to bolster its formidable forces. Taldor must instead win the minds of those she rules embracing diplomacy and her status as the oldest nation in Avistan in order to rise again. Taldor will never again be Queen of the Inner Sea, but by her pedigree, wisdom, and silver tongue she might be the power behind all other thrones."

The Twins finally break their gaze, as the male Twin finishes his sister's thought:

"But this will only happen if Taldor's elite purge themselves of the follies of the past, set aside their warmongerng ways, and emulate the practices of her lost colonies who have embraced the future while she sat and dwelt upon her glorious past."

After a long delay, the Twins return to the ballroom. The female Twin is adjusting her sleeves, her male partner marching behind her.

"Dear brother, we missed the entrance of the Grand Prince!" the female Twin exclaims, aghast. "Your Grace, forgive our rudeness. We were engrossed in a most stimulating game." She curtsies, then takes his hand and kisses his signet ring.

The male Twin bows stiffly to the Grand Prince, as if in armor. "Sister, it is rude to fawn over royalty," he states, "There are other guests who joined us after the game began as well. We should be as considerate to them."

Sorry to not post in so long; I had not intended the Twins to disappear for weeks, but real life got in the way and it provided a convenient cover.

At the Master of Games' announcement, the female Twin wordlessly kicks her chair away with a strength unexpected from one of her stature. It shatters against a wall. Without a word, she turns on her heel and disappears from the hall.

Her twin turns apologetically to the Gallium Paladin. "She does not tolerate failure," he says by way of apology, then stands, bows stiffly, and hurries after her.

"Well, now, what have we here?" asks the female Twin as she considers the cards she and her brother hold.

"All or nothing. As all the best contests, it comes down to the final play," her Twin announces as he sets down the card he holds from the previous turn. "House Guard, I fear the Gallium Paladin has been conspiring with the Count to have his letter delivered. See that his correspondence is intercepted." Both twins fix their masked eyes on the Gallium Paladin, awaiting the outcome of their final gambit.

The Twins consider their draw for a moment. The male Twin's mask moves, the result of what might be a momentary grimace, as the Gallium Paladin's card is played. The woman's eyes, or at least the mask's eyes, move between her card, her twin's card, and the Gallium Paladin. She sighs.

"We have lost, brother," she finally announces. "It is only a matter of time."

"Not all hope is lost, sister" her Twin replies.

"Pfft, only most!" she interjects.

Her Twin weathers her outburst, the continues, "Either Desna smiled upon him or he has played us both for fools most brilliantly." He frowns for a moment, then nods, "We have only one option."

The female twin lays down her card. "We play the Count, choosing ourselves."

The male Twin slides his card to the Master of Games face-down. "Master of Games, please collect our card and deliver us a new one."

Upon receiving the card, the male Twin pulls it forward. Immediately, the female Twin lays hers down and grins predatorily. ”Brother, we have them now! I see the Gallium Paladin’s hand hides a powerful benefactor, but I fear no such protection exists for The Midnight Samurai!” she announces, revealing The Baron.

The male twin frowns, ”Sister, your haste is to our detriment,” he announces. ”Surely we should have played against the Gallium Paladin?”

Nonsense, brother.” She replies dismissively, ”Aggression must be answered with aggression.” She tosses her head, flicking hair out from in front of her mask.

”We shall see,” is his only reply.

The Twins make their way to the table, holding an eerie conversation with each other en route. ”Is the Angel arguing with the Dark Lady, my love?” the woman asks. ”It appears they are, sister.” her twin replies. His sister giggles, ”She is not so dark, really. I am most jealous, love, of her shapely face,” the woman announces with a wistful look at the back of the Dark Lady’s head. ”It is only a shell, my sister, and like all flesh will wither in time,” her brother answers. ”But you will never wither or fade, will you?” the woman asks, turning to face her brother as they reach the table. He does not respond.

The Twins take their seat at the table, with the man sitting first and his sister perching on his knee, in a pose that might be mistaken for a couple standing for a painting. The man picks up the card before them, while the woman takes the card offered by the master of games. The black eyes of their masks fixate on the card handed to them by the Master of Games.

”Brother, we have been given a great opportunity with this. We must seize the advantage.”

”Sister, we have the first move. Such aggression would be wasted. Draw out our rivals, as one draws the enemy on the battlefield. Feint and gather information.”

”Brother, you speak as a craven! Are you afraid?” the masked woman turns from her card to face her partner.

”Only of you,” he responds gravely.

The two nod in unison, then turn to face the master of games and announce simultaneously, “The Gallium Paladin seeks the favor of the Count. We would see him rejected.” With that announcement, the man lays down the House Guard before the Master of Games while the woman clutches the other card to her breast.

Two guests stride through the gate. On the left is a towering man wearing Chelish military parade blacks trimmed in red, and on his right arm is a woman in a flowing gray dress cut in a style that would not be called modest but could not be called indecent. Both of their faces are concealed by thin black fabric that covers the entire face, including the nose and mouth. Over the black fabric each wears half of the same mask; the man on covers the left side of his face, the woman her right. The half-masks are bone-white with a pronounced cheekbone. The expression of the man’s mask is jovial, the woman’s half-mouth is pursed into a grimace. Both have flowing white hair coming from the top of the mask, falling down one side of the wearer’s head to mingle with the wearer’s hair, the man’s a dark brown and the woman’s black.

”Beloved sister, we are the last to arrive,” the male figure announces in disturbing monotone.

”Yes, dear brother, we are,” the woman replies, caressing his arm comfortingly, ”We are fashionably late, so that our entrance is observed by all the attendees.”

”It is rude to be less than punctual, sister. We should greet the hostess.” The man moves down the stairs, his steps stiff and rhythmic, his "sister" nearly draped across his arm until they reach the rest of the attendees. Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25. ”That is a very lovely costume.”

”We must greet the hostess, love,”* the woman steers him towards the Snow Princess. ”Snow Princess, you honor us with your invitation.” At this, both bow in unison before the woman continues, ”Your home is beautifully maintained, and the house’s decorations glorious. You simply must share, who did the decorations?”

"Dearest sister, you have neglected to introduce us," bowing again to the Snow Princess, the man announces in a pleasing baritone, "We are the Twins by Proxy."