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Marius: "Miss Arlandt--no, Valery. I know we haven't seen eye to eye often, I daresay we don't even like each other. But... I love Rose, and I hope we can find a way to make this work, for her sake." "...I believe you. That... is comforting. And at the same time, I don't know what to say. This is new for me as well; I barely know you but we've technically been courting for... weeks? Months? Only to now hear you ask me to trust you with Rose, and by implication my own life, while I go back to sleep," She chuckles once. "Gods, this is a mess. From my perspective, to say it moves fast is the grossest of understatements. Perhaps rather than take over a prefecture together, we should consider going for a walk first? A drink? Playing music? I suppose I'll take fencing? Or something equally less monumental? Say, have we talked about fashion at all?" She sits back and takes a deep breath as the moment of humor fades. "All right. We'll meet again, then. I wish I could give you advice - real advice. But I suppose that, In a way, you know me better than I do." The woman goes still, hiding her eyes in her palms. She shudders, her breathing quickens, her hands begin to shake, and Marius feels as if she isn't quite there anymore - but rather experiencing something very unpleasant known only to her. It stops suddenly - and he tell instantly from the more demure body language to the frantic eye-searching of the room that it had worked. This was the real Rose - if visibly confused. "Welcome back, my love." Perhaps helped by his gentle nature or show of affection, she recovers quickly. [b]"I- you- she told you herself. That means... it's over? We won?" She concludes. "No. No no no, never mind! You know but... you're still here?" Seeing him take her hand is the final straw and a radiant smile blossoms as tears of happiness begin to fall. "Oh Marius. I love you, my brave fool."
Marius: ”Relax, Marius. If I was here to kill you, I wouldn’t do it with a candle or a cup of tea.” She smiled. ”I’d use the key.“ Her tone implied she was clearly joking. Definitely. Probably? Either way, it was placed on the nightstand, out of her immediate reach. What she instead kept was the aromatic Osirion cinnamon tea - not unlike Rose during her many late hours of planning. The beautiful redhair’s form-fitting nightgown rustled over the floor as she took a seat. Sparsely-lighted, Sea-green eyes watched him in momentary silence – Studying him? Pondering something? It was hard to tell. ”My time here is drawing to a close. Before I went, I wished discuss something important that concerns us both – as privately as could be expected.” ”…First, I should apologize. I could fully rationalize my behavior in Stachys as that it would be less obvious that way, a better veil, if I were actively disliked by my allies but still respected. To be intentionally cross yet competent and thereby create an artificial, starker contrast. Ultimately, I’m not sure to what degree that worked or mattered. Besides, it isn’t entirely true. Simply put, I was angry and reflected that on you alone, which was not fair. Over this last month, I’ve come to accept that you were not to blame more than Rose, Miss Mokei or others I might have missed. In the end, this… apparent fear you have of me, over time I’ve come to regret it,” She holds up her hand. ”No – please let me finish. This is quite hard enough as it is and it will make sense shortly.” She takes a sip and the slight tremor of her left hand is perhaps the first sign of real nerves anyone in Stachys had ever seen of the self-appointed security advisor. But her gaze is steady and her tone is nothing if not serious. ”That said. I… would like to talk to you about fabrics.” ”Velvet… is woven from tiny loops, like cotton or silk, but very finely cut. It results in an intricate formation of tiny ‘hairs’ that make it shiny but also pliable. Stroke it gently and it will change its hue from dark to light with the direction of your touch. It is strong and robust, yet tentalisingly soft and easy to work with – so long as you treat it well. Or it will become static and stained, and something of a nightmare. In fact, so beloved was it by tailors throughout history that is has a colour named after it - which falls in a category the fashion world denotes as ‘blood colours’.” ”Of course…” She slowly rises. ”The average tailor couldn’t tell you all this. No, you’d need a specialist - one of the very best in the lands. And I would know better than most. Because... I am Rose, in a fashion.”
Marius: It was a quiet night, not too cold, not too warm. The weather was calm and most of the Stachys staff was still in a mindset of celebration, exhaustion, or both. Even with the transfer of power being as peaceful as could be expected, there was a lot of traveling to and fro the two towns, meetings with local dignitaries and envoys, quelling civil unrest and worst of all: paperwork. Not to mention frantic preparations for the arrival of Princess Eutropia herself . Everyone had their hands full one way or the other amidst the frantic activity and definitely needed whatever rest they could get. Given that and the time of day, almost everyone should be asleep. In short, the conditions for quietly fading out of the picture without anyone noticing were ideal. And yet... She wasn't nervous, she decided. Such feelings belonged to a previous life she'd mostly left behind. It was a simple life, biding time, refining the plan, accepting the costs as a given. Until recently. Now, it was complicated. Okay, maybe she was quite nervous. She shuffled through the hallway, stopping before the master bedroom. There were at least two ways to sneak inside, she knew. But why bother? Rose had the key. So in extension, so did she. A twist and a soft click later and she opened the door, illuminating what lay beyond with a candle as she went through. "Marius? Are you awake?"
“And so is the next question: why would the family - or someone in the family - need these and have locked them up in a safe here?” "Why indeed. Since if such effort is taken to hide them, we can assume no one else knows the truth, especially outside the family." The vigilante's eyes narrow as the headband they'd found seems to open her mind to new possibilities - or perhaps pushed them in the direction of its own knowledge. "But given its nature... why haven't surrounding families ever noticed? That would mean..." She turns and walks back to the portrait, approaching the ghost with a healthy dose of hesitance. "Thank you for pointing us here. I'm Velvet, nice to meet you." She does a polite bow. "I'm not sure what this means, however. You directed us here, so I assume you want Paniver taken down, correct? You wish for revenge?" She waits for the response. "Did Panivar kill you?" She waits again. "I see. From what we've seen, it's apparant that he's much older than he should be, and that he can apparently switch his appearance. The latter is not strange for a magician, but we've also found notes detailing him involved with... let's say necromantic practices. Is he somehow taking something from his family to maintain his youth and appearance despite his age?"
"Marius, we finished cataloging the noteworthy findings. I'll have a messenger deliver it to-" Velvet enters the room and makes an 'O' face at the scene of a ghost in a painting giving him directions and the inquisitor following them. "Would you please tell me you're still yourself and that it doesn't have some mental control over you?" She asks, hesitantly reaching for her sap. When it appears as though nothing nefarious is going on, she relaxes and offers to open the chest.
”Now now, boys, do play nice. I have exactly two explosive arrows left and I would hate to have wasted the time spent to make them - even if you didn’t seem to appreciate my craftsmanship that much. Perhaps you would like another sample?” She looks at Titus and while the tone was friendly, the reference to the brutal ambush on him mere minutes ago was rather blunt. “I did try at first, but I could never live up to my father, let alone my prodigee uncle.” ”So there *is* more to it rather than just negligence or entitlement. Too many demands were placed on him and he simply gave up. Like I almost did back then.” ”I… understand. Too well, perhaps - of never being able to live up to others’ expectations. Of wanting to achieve something you can never succeed at or have,” Velvet says, feeling rather sympathetic to Bartelby just then. “”So don’t. Rebel and find a new path – a new purpose and goal that suits you . You will never be someone else. The more you compare yourself to them, the less happy you will be. You will grow bitter over their perceived talents and lose sight of your own.” She glances to a window overlooking Lotheedar’s sparse lights in the distant night. ”Perhaps it isn’t too late. We were asked to spare your life if we could; there are those who value you or might still come to do so.” She nods briefly at Gul. ”I can’t promise it will be easy, especially not with the state the country is in. Between the political instability and the matter of the Senate Massacre unsolved, our work is cut out for us. But if you would but try again, earnestly, I would estimate there is a good chance someone could make good use of your experience and connections.”
Velvet's sighed inwardly. In retrospect, it would have been the correct choice to let Titus bleed out when he was an inch from death, so he wouldn't have stood before them again. But what was done was done. Hearing Bartelby's words, however, she cannot quite suppress a sense of incredulity and gives the Count a stern look. "What *we* did? No, I believe it is more about what *you* did, Bartelby Lotheed. Or rather, what you *didn't* do. Until our arrival your entire prefecture, with the exception of Lotheedar itself, was in complete disarray. I'm not even sure where to begin describing the anarchy, the many dangerous beasts and state of disrepair and poverty of the various regions. Which we mostly managed to revert using but a fraction of your resources in just two months. Which leaves the question of why you hadn't, but also answers why Lord Erallan is much more popular among the people than you are now." She crosses her arms despite her magic-indured tiredness and the crossbow weighing one of them down. "In fact, I would recommend you surrender. First, we've already proven being dangerous enough to solve all your previous problems by force. Second, the rest of our forces are already on their way. And third, even your *own* guards just walked out on you - without *any* interference on our part. They all just chose to leave despite being on your payroll. You must realize how precarious your position is. Even if you gamble the lives both of yourself and your men here and somehow manage to deal with us, how long until the mob comes for you, now that they've seen a better way? What do you give to them other than crooked tax collectors and a complete negligence to their needs?"
Velvet's gaze lingers on the impressive wardrope, melancholy feelings of simpler and better times surfacing. Ones of warm fireplaces and her mother showing her much younger self how to do simple emborideries and knit simple shawls... which she would then either gift to father for no effect, or to her mother's secret friend for pieces of candy and presents. And this would be an AWESOME shawl so she'd better get the very best ones this time! The grin fades when she reaches the circle and less pleasant imagery replaces hit, of frowning instructors surrounding her older self when she tried over and over again to make a similar one which she knew was perfect but just as predicted had no effect for her and only her. She couldn't even produce even the weakest conjuration in what should have been the very best conditions. The best tutors. The best materials. A carbon copy of every line. She could feel the less accepting members of the old families smile at her ineptitude and the sheer humilitation of it was... was...
"Please, stand aside," She quietly says. "This is a standard geometric circle. The triangles and pentagrams anchor its spatial position. The outer octagons represent the maximum distance. The inner hexagons are descellerant. Without the first three, it no longer works. Without the last one, using it is potentially lethal, not unlike falling from a great distance onto a solid slab of rock." It was recited monotomously as if from a textbook. "...But Martella wouldn't want us to risk the mission to gamble on that last bit, even if her uncle is implied to be problematic. " She takes out a vial and very carefully poors tiny droplets of its contents over the intersecting silvery lines of the outer figures. "Silver... for all its worth and splendor, it dissolves very readily faced with most acids. And with how delicate this drawing is, even minute disruptions in the right spots cause it to fail. All the worse then, if they can't even find how and where it was disturbed - and thus wouldn't know where to begin fixing it."
It takes half a minute or so for a very sickly and grey looking Velvet comes back into the room, seemingly lacking much of her vitality and perhaps even youth. She was breathing heavily even if there were no external injuries. "That... spell, whatever it did to me, will it pass?" she asks quietly, before joining the others in search.
Unfortunately, she was very out of it indeed as the numbers and letters seemed to do their own jubilee and waltez eachother comfortably beyond her comprehension. "I can't focus on this journal... There's some sort of code over the notes. Is anyone else apt at this sort of thing?"
Feeling her lifeforce drain and her memories fade, Velvet looks up numbly at Marius and nods tiredly. She shoots the creature once then runs from the room. "Be safe, everyone..."
After running from the room, she attempts to hide amdist the noise of the melee.
Velvet is wrecked with pain and cries out at the horrible sensation of her body seemingly falling apart, fully expecting to have died. When when she somehow remains conscious and sees herself (mostly) intact, what follows is a sense of anger. Whether it was al illusion trick or magic trying to have its way with her, it woudn't happen! She raises her bow to shoot the figure and it's dreadful visage almost makes her lose her nerve, but Faenia's rallying voice allows her to shake it off and fire an explosive arrow straight at its... um, face? "Nice to meet you as well. I'm Velvet. Sadly, I regret to inform you our time together will be short." She cordially informs the creature at it seems to be hit with explosive force and shrapnel aplenty. She throws a quick look at Marius. "You've got this from here, right?"
"I see. But, that still doesn't explain why one would be lingering here , of all places. A true spirit should be able to just leave... right? Like the portrait. Then again, I can't exactly claim my necromancy knowledge is up to par, and the answer is not relevant at present." The vigilante grins wryly and refocuses on the next room.
"I think we did our best for him. He said it himself; he was very lonely, locked up in here," Velvet says as they ascend the stairs, though ever her voice lacks true conviction on this topic. "...Was it a remnant of the actual Crown Prince? If so, what does it mean, to find him here?" She follows, stating her concerns. Faced with the seemingly empty room, she sighs. "I just know there's another trap here. There is no way a wealthy, highly powerful wizard would leave his home security entirely to a lock and a weakish undead. Still, we have to check somehow. Help me search, please." Cautiously, she produces what seems like a colourful and decorative - and more importantly, weighted - marble from her pouch and rolls it over the floor in front of them. Should nothing happen, she cautiously ventures into the room, alert for anything unusual.
"Prince...? By the goddess, Prince Carrius! But, here? Why? Are these his reanimated remains? Did he die here? But that would mean the Lotheeds assassinated the crown prince all those years ago?" Her mind swirls with this new information as she strikes again against the sad creature.
On her guard, Velvet keeps her bow at the ready until the order to attack is given. She inches forward and strike with her rapier, but hesitance over its youthful appearance and seeming childlike innocence throws her off. "Are you sure? Is he truly dead?"
The pain passes and the Vigilante takes a deep breath. "All right. A magical trap from a wand, based on proximity. But it does not react to objects. Thus..." The dagger flies directly at the wand, hitting hit squarely and topping it from the grip of the statue. The next dagger delivers what remains of Titus' ruined cravat to cover it. "There. That should do it."
A quick spin and jump backwards saves her from the worst of the blast and she's left with a very painful and numb arm rather than something worse. "All right. That was my mistake. Clearly there's some advanced traps here and I *should* have gone with my immediate instinct to have good Syras walk in in front of us. He seems healthy enough and owes us quite a bit of pain." The message was delivered through gritted teeth and whether or not she was joking, she holds back in the doorway for now.
velvet wipes the sweat from her brow. "That... wasn't a normal lock, nor even a good or intricate one. That was Abadar's own personal avatar of grouchiness, sent to inflict greusome torment upon us poor agents of change. Well, I'll tip my hat to you, dear piece of metal. You put up a very good fight." She then unceremoneously kicks it into the office, sliding over the floor in front of them as she waits to see if - or more like hoping - some intricate arcane trap would blow it to the tiniest possible smithereens.
Informed of the rapier's magical quality, Velvet takes it and tucks it on the other side of her sword belt. "On it. Which of us should take the ring?" She asks as she takes out her tools and beging working on the lock with the exact same technique Rose once used in the sewers of Riddleport. She doesn't seem to get a proper grip the first time, but the second attempt goes much better, performed with obviously well-practised hands.
It happens very quickly, Titus falling and the resulting surrender. Even a casual glance tells her the man is either already dead or mere moments from it. Seeing Marius mostly all right - if possessed by a strange zeal just then- and not being entirely unsympathetic to Dame Hellebore, her anger fades. In order to keep options regarding Titus open for now, immediate action was needed. "Your call. He tried to kill you twice. Mercy or an example? A hard choice, but it must be made right now." She mutters to Marius.
"What is he to you?" The Shelynite softly asks Dame Hellebore as she does her best to identify points requiring pressured binding and doing so with rapidly cut strips of the man's own cravat and cape.
"Marius!" Velvet calls out, seeing him take three hits in quick succession. Expecting him to fall over at any moment, a familiar tap on her back rouses her from momentary indecision and she re-finds her calm. "Thank you, Lotti." Faded from view and drawing her rapier, she weaves in between the melee of the three swordsman only to thrust straight at Titus' nether regions! "How's *this* for low expectations?"
"...Oh. Is that it? Honestly, I *am* disappointed." She looks at Silas. "You have exactly one strike."
"I should probably offer you a chance to surrender, but I don't want to spoil the fun. I'll just say I did, and you refused." A shadow moves and an arrow flies into Titus before he so much as takes a single step! Then it explodes. "Pardon my manners; did I break your monologue? The conversation was dragging."
When it becomes clear the door contains what is likely a group of partying guards, Velvet presses herself flat against the wall next to the door just before Marius opens it. She initially takes out her sap, resolving to take out the guards alive if at all possible as they'd done nothing wrong and were no major threat to their cause - potential allies even if the ploy worked. But when she hears Titus - of all people - and his words of animosity, she blinks and ever so gently re-sleeves the sap to take out her crossbow. They still weren't entirely sure what the link was between Titus and the Iron Lash but she wasn't going to take *any* chances if it could be helped at all. Hopefully, Marius could convince all of them to stand down. If not, Titus was the one who went first. ...he was a horrible dancer, after all.
velvet follows close behind, throwing a glance to the guard room. She was outwardly dressed in an evening gown, courtesy of the Sleeves of Many garments she wore. In reality it was her normal travel outfit. While the effect of appearing less harmful was rather marred by the crossbow hanging from her pack, she hoped there would still be some advance notice of anyone approaching and being able to improvise.
She moves forward when indicated, nodding at Marius before checking to see if it was open - and then lockpicking it to the best of her ability should it be needed.
Velvet takes in the splendor of the reception before her as well at the entrance, noting the perhaps-envy, perhaps sneer of Count Lotheed towards Marius with curiosity - and then she focused . Bartelby was a good liar. He presented a (mostly) polite and stoic exterior that was hard to read into. But she had lived and breathed lies and empty flattery her entire life and to her, he was just par for the course. His miniscule yet unmistakable placating gestures towards his neck region belied a nervous man - quite possibly afraid. The question was what that meant - what it would lead to next. A trap? She recalled the description of the Count from the letter, how difficult it had been for either Rose or especially Lisa to charm him. If anything, the only thing known of him was that he seemed to appreciate intellectual discussions. She doubted any ploy revolving around attraction was going to work on him, especially with Gul starting at them like he hoped the look would politely nudge the group to fall over dead. But if Faenia wished to try a submissive approach, she wouldn't stop her. "Thank you for your offer of hospilatity on such short notice, my Lord," She does a polite bow, fitting of his station, upon Marius' introduction and puts up a good impersonation of warm smile."Unlike lady Faenia, I'm afraid I am simply a bastard daughter seeking refuge from the trouble in the capitol city. Though, when I found out you possesed one of the most grand libraries in perhaps the entire nation, I couldn't help to be excited. I can't deny the scholar in me is most interested in the writings and collections of such an esteemed arcane family - though of course I would hesitate to ask." As such, she'd repeated multiple agreed upon keywords of warning between the group members, in turn being 'Afraid', 'Trouble' and 'Found Out' along with 'Perhaps' and 'Hesitate' as clarifying ones in as natural a conversation as possible. There was a good chance the Count suspected them, but hesitated to act outright. She allows herself to be seated regardless, taking care to taste and scent the appetizers just slightly quicker than her compatriots, taking care to from then stick to small samples of each consequent dish. Calling upon hard-earned lessons and experiences from another life, she tried to recognize the various common poisons, but found none - and communicated such with a nod and compliments regarding the food so long as the conversation -whether or not it was all that pleasant- in the garden endured.
Marius:
”Ah, I see. Then tell me, Marius, are you familiar with the term sub rosa? Or in modern Taldane, under the Rose? It is an old expression for clandestine affairs, secrecy and confidentiality. Though, in your particular case it seems to have some, shall we say, humorous additional connotations?” Her grin can be felt through the dark. ”If you look for it, you will find that a surprising number of art pieces through time referring to intelligence work contain such iconography,” She brushes past and lights a candle towards the flowery painting depicting Shelyn. ”You can probably see where this is going. Shelyn’s title is The Eternal Rose. Our folk are artists and entertainers, usually welcomed, often overlooked even by the more powerful malign forces. What better cover is there than a lofty artist, to be inherently dismissed as harmless? To be instantly assumed to have no deeper meaning or calling in life than romance or art? That is also why I chose to sneak into the Mansion that first day. If I hadn’t, would you have taken me seriously?” With a soft breath, she blows out the candle. ”Of course, the Rose imagery might just be a visual coincidence - a tenuous connection by itself. However, there are other things. If we stop to think of it, how did Shelyn herself stop her corrupted brother when he wielded a glaive said to have enough power to destroy all creation? How did she steal it from him when by all means he should have been infinitely stronger? If not by subterfuge, then how?” It is a rhetorical question. ”And in the very old texts of her, from the period of the Azlanti, what was her original favored weapon? A dagger,” A flick of the wrist and said blade appears in her hand, then vanishes the next moment. The movement is dispassionate, pensive. ”I wouldn’t presume to question Divine Wisdom. But we are both trained fighters, are we not? Assuming equal skill, we can admit to eachother that a dagger would lose most open confrontations with other weapons through reach disadvantage. But monetary concerns are not of the gods. So why pick a dagger if you were not planning to use its major advantage; to easily hide it and strike the unaware? Or alternatively, to give the impression that you have no idea of what constitutes an effective martial weapon and thus appear harmless?” She makes an apologetic gesture. ”Of course, it is very possible that I am wrong. I suspect the vast majority of her worshippers are unaware of these connections. And if true, the ones that are would never willingly confirm them. Though if so, were one to find herself in, say, an empty church at night with a colleague, then perhaps she would engage in a bit of speculative intrigue on the matter. All under the Rose of course, per tradition,” The red-haired woman seems to smile.
”The plan is solid enough, yes. Assuming our reputation held, we’ll take Bartelby up on his offer to visit. Then, at night, we will first disable the teleportation circle. Assuming we are successful, we will then confront Bartelby directly and demand his surrender using the signed letter as a means of pressure. If someone were to get in our way… we would have to subdue them one way or the other.” Velvet summarizes. ”Of course, much will have to be improvised on the spot. But I am confident in everyone’s abilities to see this through. We some luck, we can take the mansion for the princess overnight without open conflict and needless loss of life.”
Marius: "It seems I'm rambling a bit--a spot of nerves, perhaps. What are these similarities do you speak of?" "Physical ones, of course. That is why you mistook us, correct?" She too falls silent then, pondering his previous words. "What is most troubling you, Marius, for you be nervous now? I can hazard many guesses, ranging from the subsequent withdrawals of your allies to the coming task to being here alone with me. But I'd rather hear which is true before I go and needlessly embarass myself." She says, kindly and with a touch of humor at the end. She seemed rather different from her daily exterior just then, much more informal and accessible.
Marius: "Rose! You're ba--oh...oh. I-I apologize, Miss Arlandt, for a moment you sounded...I was mistaken." Valery halts and a momentary silence falls. "That is... all right. I suppose we are similar enough." Upon being admitted, she brushes past Marius and stops at the shrine to Shelyn, depositing the flowers. Whatever prayer she makes is apparently brief as she makes it back before he fully finishes his own. She is still there when he rises. "Marius, perhaps this is an odd question. But how does one go about praying to Kelinahat? I feel like I should pay my respects to her now that I am here, considering what we are about to do - and with our goddesses seeming rather similar to me."
Marius: At some point during Marius' prayers, there is a very faint clicking sound heard from the entrance to the church, followed by soft footsteps upon marble tiles in the night. A silhouette stops under the archway and peers into the room with the shrine. "...Marius?" Velvet asks warily, one hand resting on the hilt of her rapier, the other holding something behind her back. Only when she fully recognize him does she relax and take another step forward, upon which the hidden item appeared a simple bouqeut of flowers, the makeup and colours imperceptible in the dark. "I... thought the church was closed at this hour?" There is a hint of amusement. "But I suppose that as the local lord, you would have the privilege of a key." Another two steps, into the room. "Regardless, if you wouldn't mind, I came here to pay my respects and offer prayers of my own. Shall I leave you to yours, and you to mine?"
"Or I can keep the man distracted - whatever you want that to end up being. Some of these little southerners like big girls. And if it doesn't work, I can just beat the s+&+ out of him." Velvet laughs; it seemed Faenia and herself were very much on one line despite the cultural differences - even if she'd prefer a single, swift blow to the head over a noisy beating. "I like it; A noble offer. But while I am convinced most men would find you very desirable, Faenia, Bartelby is... well, we believe he is more into his Senechal. As in, it seems he is attracted to men. Though should it come to it, please feel free to knock him out regardless." "For now, the road back is long; we should get going and let everyone know of our success. Perhaps we can each see to some last-minute preparations and planning before we make our move..."
Taking time to properly enjoy the rich cinnamon fragrance of her Osirian Qurfa tea, Velvet ponders the letter in front of her. "Hm. No reported infighting or any internal struggle between the Lotheeds... which I know is likely false, given what we've seen between Bartelby and his Nephew. Probably a cover-up. But even then, that doesn't necessarily extend to his uncle, and doesn't give him a reason to swant to smear his own family's name... so does that mean Marius is right and that Bartelby is really just *that* incompetent, lazy and selfish?" Then again, why would she be surprised? That *was* the par for most nobles they'd come across, both back in Oppara and on this recent journey. Knowing the time to set out drew near, she finished her drink and took to the direction of Stachys, or more specifically, the church. "Almost time for my daily prayers. I should probably get this one out of the way, what with anniversary coming up... "
The woman gives Barcos and then Faenia an appraising look. "Why would a druid have such advances infiltration skills? Or an Ulfen who seems so bound to honor and stories? More masks, then?" she wonders, then gives a wry grin. "Interesting... well, Miss Qeb is correct in that I, too, have some talent there. Given enough time to prepare, few would recognize me. I might be able to impersonate Bartelby himself, even. We have the names of most servants, and the building plans can probably be acquired in Lotheedar, the same way the Night Swan got hold of Stachys'. So if we want to try getting to the circle first, we might just be able to. Of course, that is only if everyone *is* truly confident in their own ability to make this work. More is at stake than just our own lives."
I am going on a long weekend, I'll be back coming tuesday. I unfortunately can't remember how to roll for the agent system at present, but she is rank 5 in subterfuge. I'll roll an unmodified d20 below:
Well, let's hope the others fare better if they are amenable to also look into it? :')
""She--you weren't--they didn't--?" "Martella probably didn't want to risk a leak in case they were captured. Still... it would have been nice to give some sort of advance notice." The red-haired woman says with a brief look of sympathy to Marius. "Pardon the question, but I am woefully uninformed as to what is going on here. The wolves I had a firm handle on, but this mention of the Birdsong Palace is new to me." "Unfortunately, the Lotheeds--nominally holding the property in trust for the House of Stavian--have refused to turn the holdings over to its proper owners. " "Yes. Though it's not just the orders of the Princess giving weight to our cause, Barcos. Bartelby has been an extremely poor steward of the land in his Uncle's absense. His list of negligence towards the people is long; he refused to hunt the Iron Lash - a vicious manticore that has been plaguing the land - despite being begged multiple times. And rather than help the displaced people of a town when its baron fell to a spider curse, he had them hunted down by his steward, forcing them into being vagabonds and brigands." Velvet sighs. "Honestly there is so much I'm having trouble deciding what's the worst of it. His people live in severe powerty while he throws lavish parties in his castle, where he gives away prizes worth more than most settlements in the region. His local infrastructure outside of Lothedar was in complete disrepair. He failed to put a stop to the Night Swan's bandit raids on the region. Yet he employed a crooked tax collector who was enriching himself with extra taxes in his name. He had his Seneshal unleash a horrible slime beast on a local lake which killed almost all local wildlife there." "...I'm sure I am forgetting a few even now. But the image is clear, yes? He is unfit to be a steward. Actually, it's hard to imagine being any worse at what he was supposed to do." She slows down her pace then, growing pensive. "Wait. Do you think Bartelby is perhaps trying to smear both his own and his uncle's names on purpose ? That there is some internal family grudge at work that led to all this? If so, that might make Bartelby more amenable to negotiations in the absense of his extremely dangerous wizard uncle. Perhaps we could quickly look into this as we prepare our approach."
"Yes. Though part of me wonders if we shouldn't have done more for them before leaving..." Velvet says as she glances in the direction of the village, barely a speck on the horizon and devoid of real meaning or purpose compared to the grandness of Estate they'd just left behind and the power of its main resident. "Will they recover from their year of siege? Perhaps... if Stachys were to take a more active economic role, we, or you, rather, could puchase more of their wool, turn it into luxury products and share some of the profits with them under the guise of an investment to get around their subbornness." She shakes her head. "But that's for another time. For when Rose returns, perhaps. Let's hope the Baroness devises a similar approach for them in the meantime." She briefly glances in the direction of Wobblekins and Lotti. "Apparently, I can hide well enough to not be noticed by an entire pack of wolves. So scent isn't infalliable - but Rose never tried to mask her own one from Wobblekins. And if he can talk, according to Faenia, at least..." "That aside, we still haven't determined the details of our approach, as we were discussing the last time before we were very rudely interrupted," She follows matter-of-factly. "As it stands, to our knowledge, we still have an invitation into the palace. As far as we know, our cover has not been blown. Thus we could still try to covertly steal the required information, as well as destroy the teleportation circle and kidnap the Count one way or another. That will be more dangerous to us and definitely more difficult to do, but it might limit the loss of life on both sides if large-scale armed conflict is avoided. How do you all feel about this?" She wonders, as she looks around the group.
Seeing the state of panic the townsfolk seemed to be in, Velvet lingers behind to quickly give assurances that yes, Barcos and Marius surely knew what they were doing and no, they weren't going to offer up themselves as tribute instead - probably. Where to take the goats since the wolves just left without taking them? She blinked at this, seeing said animals lingering behind alive and well, apparently forgotten in the exchange. She smiled at their good fortune and recommended just taking them back - It wasn't like the wolves needed any more food, clearly...
Lingering behind just out of sight, Velvet follows the rest of the group at they went further in, relying on just about every trick she'd ever been taught to remain covert in case the wolves were indeed leading them into an ambush. Yet, even at a distance, Faenia's strong voice carries over and she soon finds herself entranced in the story despite herself and the sitation...
Velvet tenses, also unsure of what was happening. Unable to speak wolf, the exchange could have been anything from 'I like your fur' to 'Please hold while we get more people to eat you'. She'd just have to trust Barcos to know what he was doing, and the others to quell the rising panic among the population. Even to a wolf, it'd probably be considered bad manners for her to suddenly come out of hiding now.
Holding to the plan, Valery vanishes into the nearby foilage. She took note of the wind's direction with a wetted finger and tried to approach into it. That way, hopefully the wind would carry away her scent, rather than towards the wolves. Should anyone be near her, she would share her intent.
"Let's hope Barcos is as good at this at his kin are rumored to be." She mutters, making herself as small as possible while maintinging sight to the clearing. Then she sighs. "Painstakingly taught to stalk around the most advanced security and what do I use it for? Playing hide and seek with a pack of wolves in the middle of nowhere. Life sure does work in mysterious ways."
Velvet looks at her main weapon - her crossbow - and raises an eyebrow. "'Knock them out'? All of them ?" A drop of sweat forms on her temple and she chuckles nervously. "I, ah, regret to inform you I forgot to pack bolts with localized concussive explosions - if those exist. Truthfully, I would rather stay at a distance and fight to my strength over trying to sap a pack of wolves in melee. Though, that is an option, if we insist on going that route."
As the group follows the elders and sacrificial goats at a distance, Velvet leaves Rose's crossbow unloaded for the moment. "All right. Let's finalize the plan while there's still a bit of time. Are we going with the ambush approach or the diplomatic one?" Her attention shifts from Marius to Barcos on the last bit, as any attempt to parley with a pack of wolves would probably hinge a great deal on his druidic abilities, especially if the naturally speaking leader was not present. "Also..." She continues, watching the animals with a look of pity. "Are we going to try to save them in either case? Even if we put moral considerations aside, this village is so small that they probably can't afford to lose much more of their cattle, with how long this has been happening."
Wanted to confess to the official record here that I made an error in the last post, I used Rose's diplomacy score instead of Velvet's. With Social Grace gone it is +16/17 instead of 20/21. Sorry!
Velvet nods thoughtfully and for a moment it appears as though she would have asked something, but she waits for Marius and Faenia to preceed her. "Does that mean her husband and the others don't know that the Baroness already knows? If Polina knows Voinum is paying this town's taxes, her sister would know as well. Which, in turn, means Voinum either *somehow* learned of this of her own accord, or someone in this town went to ask her aid behind everyone else's back. Is it her, I wonder?" She thinks, watching Zenobia work up the tea. "But if all that is the case, then why does Voinum settle for paying the tax while not intervening in the problem? Is it their pride again? Or something else...?" "Well, if you wish for Baroness Voinum to remain oblivious, there are few better suited to solve this problem than Lord Erallan," She cuts in smoothly, smiling pleasantly. "Why, I heard he personally slew the dreaded manticore, The Iron Lash, only to then drag its gigantic carcass all the way from the direwood to the Palace of Birdsong. And that he has alliances with multiple local druid circles as well. Whether or not a diplomatic solution with this talking wolf is possible, few would have a better shot." She throws Marius a look which would be interpreted as dreamy to the average outsider but to an expert agent like him seemed... fake? Probably?
"So perhaps we could work together? At some point, outside interference becomes inevitable - if only because the Baroness will eventually notice her taxes are not being paid. And there is no shame admitting that some things are beyond one's own capacity to fix themselves. This is an unnatural beast of great strength, after all. The only folly would be to realize this and not act on it, despite this siege enduring for so long."
""We really ought to speak with Baroness Voinum immediately after checking in. We don't want to give the impression we're undercutting her or going behind her back." "I'm inclined to agree, though there are a lot of unknowns surrounding this town. Finding out what we can now that we are here might help us later on." Velvet smiles and nods at Feodor when he opens, saving her questions for when they were not in the open. Why would Baroness Voinum take such an interest in this town, and what was causing the deaths of the animals? Hopefully they'd know soon enough.
Unsure how to best offer further help or comfort to the extremely nervous woman, Velvet instead studies the letters she brought with her, thanking her for the passing of them. "...Well, I wasn't expecting it to be so, but there do not seem to be any hidden messages in the text itself." She says after a minute or so. "Polina, if you would allow me to check further? And please take a bite, dear. We were going to visit the area anyway, so we might as well drop by. You're not imposing on us," She smiles at her encouragingly, then proceeds to hold one letter above a lit candle. When nothing appears, she holds it closer to her nose and take a deep breath. "...No hidden text nor traces of such either, at least with common invisible inks and analogues. It'd have been unusual for a hunter from a small village to have access to those, but with the Baroness herself involved and the secrecy surrounding that fact..." She gives a shrug and returns to drinking her tea. "I only wish there was more on what caused the mysterious deaths of these animals. As it stands, it seems we'll be forced to go in blind."
Velvet straightens at this news, pausing her precise incisions into the sweet pastry. "That... is troubling. Especially since we already know the village was evading taxes, and has allegedly been doing so for the entirety of the past year." She sighs and slowly shakes her head. "While I hope I am mistaken, chances are Count Lotheed decided to set an example. Given his earlier conduct at the poaching trial, it wouldn't surprise me in the least." She frowns then, realizing something and she turns back to Lotti. "Actually Miss Qeb, if I may ask, how do you know this? You mean to say you have access to a source with regular communications with the town? Any information at all of what has been happening there might help us to prepare. There are ten months in between the start of their refusal to pay and communications with them suddenly stopping, after all. Plenty of time for something else to have taken root in the area." "That is, of course, assuming we're still going to investigate this matter ourselves. Which we will do, I assume?" She adds to the others. For some reason, her gaze seems to linger on Wobblekins as she does.
Faenia: "I have apologized to enough Lords in my life to ever expect they will reciprocate, but at least I can try to help you with your next endeavor. (...) I can tell you about what we bring to your enterprise - but I will not speak further in the open - the garden - for rightly or wrongly, I believe peril follows you like a shadow.” "Excellent!" Velvet says, smiling with what seems like genuine warmth. She listents to the Ulfen's reasoning and chuckles over her last statement. "That is fair on both accounts. For the record, I too would appreciate it if I ran into assassins and dangerous monsters a note less often," She smiles faintles as she rises and stretches on tip-toes, proceeding to lock her instrument back in the worn case. "But still I am here; the advantage of a trouble magnet among other trouble magnets, no doubt - choice paralysis for the next hooded figure." She winks. "Now, if you would excuse me, I need to write a letter of recommendation and prepare for the journey tomorrow." She glances back when she is halfway through the courtyard. "Oh, and Faenia? Please do not think you are unwanted by any of us. Like I said earlier, Marius has his moments of thoughtlessness, but his heart is probably in the right place. Just don't mention that to him, please? I imagine any further boosts of ego would make protecting him from himself even more difficult." With that, she returns to the mansion, sitting down to make the first draft of a letter to Martella. Both to thank her for the reinforcements, as well as give a report on the Night Swan. Lotti's... idea was interesting, and with how hazy her understanding of Galtan anarchy was, perhaps there was an opening. And if evading her sentence was not enought... well, there was ample blackmailing material from her criminal record and the parents she was allegedly hiding. Plus, should the princess not want to associate with Lucretzia directly, there was another organization that was sure to have interest in her covert talents. Hers.
Faenia: "Ah, that is reassuring. Thank you, it was pleasant to me as well. I wished we could have done such more often." As Faenia is about to leave, she decides to chance it. "Just one further question, if I may? You said you 'had' planned to leave. Does that mean you reconsidered, or are open to such? I grant that Marius can be a thoughtless, incredibly boorish lout at times," She gives a slight grin. "And as his security advisor, I cannot say I like his tendency to put both himself and others near him in arguably needless danger. But he *has* been succesful, and his gambit to cling to honor above everything else has not backfired on him - not yet. As it stands, under his leadership, we managed to clear most of major dangers in this prefecture and restored a long-lost semblance of prosperity and order. And we are primed to succeed in Martella's orders on short notice. You know what a powerful example we could be to the other prefectures, with how splintered the nation is. We need you als Taldor needs you. Would you not stay here and help us?" She stands and extends a gloved hand to her. "Please?"
Faenia:
It's clear that the Taldane woman is new to the this music style, and for the first two verses she settles for tapping along the rhythm, getting a feel for song and performance both. "A harsh melody, emphasizing strength and violence at first and caution later on. Meant for percussion, not violins - Fitting for an ancient origin story of an entire culture. How do I even add to this? Failing would likely be seen as a great offense! But surely there is something I can do?" Inspiration strikes, and she shifts from broad strokes with the bow to a melody of short taps of the strings by hand. Pizzicato - an advanced technique, playing a violin not unlike a very small guitar, and not one she'd used often. But the effect was there; short burst of snare tones adequately falling in for drums with an occasional stroke to carry through for the calmer parts. She was happy with that; it sounded good to her. But it felt as though she should do more, especially with how important these songs were to the Ulfen, as Faenia had stated earlier. To start, the other woman was right - the text did sound 'off' in Taldane. "Do it in Skald - I'll adapt. You're kind to translate, but it should be true to you and yours." She mutters back in the pause, and from there she added her voice to Faenia's, letting her take the lead and falling above or below her in octaves using wordless mimicry of her language's tonality. Her vocal range seemed a little too good even, especially for someone who'd just claimed to be a poor singer. In the end, it was a seemless blend of Ulfen saga and elegant music. "My, that was amazing! Thank you for this challenge, this gift," She says at the end, only then noticing the ulfen woman had gone a little too still. "Faenia...? Are you all right? I... hope my play was acceptable for such a fabled saga, but I'd understand if you thought otherwise."
Faenia: "He... hasn't talked to me before, no, nor any of us, as far as I am aware. I wonder if that means..." Velvet responds on the topic of Lotti's familiar. She frowns then and grows silent, pondering something that obviously troubled her.
The talk of music draws her back in however and she puts it aside - for now. "'Your own instruments'? You mean... you can sing? Ah, how delightful! I could never quite get the vocals down, myself. Would you join me then? Please, I insist! Surely there is something we could compose together?"
"My understanding is that I am not a ‘Lady’, not in Taldor. ”I cannot even take his name." The Shelynite nods with grave sincerity. "I see... I understand that sentiment too well, though it pains me to have to say such. For all our talk of Taldan glory, one wonders why history saw it fit to never acknowledge women as equals, as if our contributions mattered too little to be of note." She grimaces then, shaking her head. "It seems that in that regard, you are just like us: Lisa, Lotti, Rose and myself, all drawn here in a bid for better rights. Are those your reasons, the ones you specified earlier? Or am I mistaken?" She wonders, tilting her head slighty sideways as she studies Faenia, inviting her to answer. |