ACT 1 - Littletown
Cast of Characters
Protagonists:
Nena - Sacred Prostitute of Calistria
Shirish - Priestess of Kurgess
Julian Pegasson - Inquisitor of Iomedae
Antagonists:
Darusio Aldiovaren - Sorcerer and Assassin
Leonardo Auditore - Iron Fox agent
Horatio Vareno - Prince Berengar's Herald
The Irregulars:
Bregan Battlebrew - dwarven alchemist
"Fausto" - Diviner and pimp
Corax - Lumberjack, drunk and bully
The scene opens at the gates of Littletown, a thriving market city several days travel west of Pitax named centuries ago by its founders, a group of halflings escaped from Cheliax with few plans for expansion. The community, firmly rooted in surplus agriculture, is devoted to the Stag god Erastil. Its guards are hearty lads only tolerably suited for the task of maintaining the peace, its government and people reliant on the political and military might of Pitax for protection. Entering stage right is Nena, a most unlikely heroine. At sixteen years, this attractive and talented performer earns her fare as a sacred prostitute of Calistria. She is held at the gates by a delegation of the city guard, and after giving an impromptu performance on summoned pan pipes is detained by their Sargent for questioning. Nena informs the dog riding halfling bearing the symbol of Erastil on his breastplate that she has no intention of undermining the community, meaning simply to rest and resupply on her journey to the capital.
The best of intentions is quickly set aside, however, as she gathers rumors that the girls employed at the house burlesque in the city are compelled by a Qadiri wizard. Nena investigates and is assured by the man himself that nothing can be further than the truth. He spins a tale of oppression wrought by the lawful authorities, disease visited on the house and the lack of ability to treat with the priest and adepts of Erastil to treat the afflicted. Nena, a prostitute by choice, regarding her talents else-wise a gift meant to champion the cause of lowest, is personally affronted by the pimp's version of the truth and swears to resolve the issue. She attends mass at the temple in full Calistrian regalia, and interrupts the good priest's sermon on the needs of the community with the argument that ignoring the needy is furthest from His ideals and very near incites a riot. The passionate youth's idealism clashes with the elder priest's responsibilities and their private audience ends in an uneasy truce, Nena will sequester herself at the brothel in exchange for his assistance in reversing the judgment of the authorities.
Treating with the priest of Erastil was but the first in a driven plot to usurp the lawful authorities directed by the Liacenza trade house, and the twin princes Berengar and Lothaire. Nena is led through the sleepy city by the nose by an interested cast of irregulars, including a talented half elven sorcerer posing as a prostitute, and a handsome agent of the Iron Fox. She uncovers a slaving operation administered by key government figures, among them the Lord Mayor and his associates, and the Strocalle trade family. In her official function as the priestess of Her shrine, Nena is drawn into a spiral of maddening lust which gives her no respite to consider her actions. She finds herself alone at the precipice of civil war, not a single one of her many talented partners standing beside her as barbarian hordes descend on the city. Burdened by four unconscious girls and as many recent, disorientated prisoners, Nena returns to the surface to dance with a barbarian more than twice her mass. Humiliatingly defeated by him, Nena wakes to find her companion priestess of Kurgess standing over a decapitated corpse, and dazed, witnesses the timely arrival of Prince Berengar and a detachment of Pitax regulars dispatched to recover Littletown.
Having been directed to remove the Lord Mayor from power, Nena and her band of refugees were stopped in the street by a quickly organized patrol and brought before Berengar's lord herald, the Silver General Horatio Vareno. The elder bard and politico is mildly amused with Nena's gifting of the Lord Mayor's unconscious form, and calmly explains to his fatigued puppet that he has choreographed each and every step she has taken since she arrived, an admission which is completely lost on her. Nena retires to the brothel to assume the mantle of priestess of Calistria. The next morning she is summoned to the Lord Herald's tents and given a new task, to investigate the ruins of the slaving operation and recover any slaves that may be at large. Nena gathers a new party, including a young inquisitor of Iomedae named Julian Pegasson, a former slave of diabolic Chelaxians himself.
Nena and party travel to Fort Leafshadow, a trading post north of Littletown, but she is never far from the Calistria's influence as among her companions is an alchemist devoted to Her who offers to quell the various aches in her heart with hallucinogens. Nena makes time to converse with the inquisitor about life, and faith, and begins questioning her lifestyle and her goals, but is immediately reminded of her obligations to Her with a spell of intense lust that can only be satisfied by him. The party arrives and quickly and for the most bloodlessly dispatch the resistance within and make off with ten imprisoned women and their captors. The large party return to Littletown and Nena gains a personal audience with the Lord Herald, who is eager to express his gratitude for her assistance. After a particularly satisfying session, Nena begins setting into motion a plot of her own device, to give every impression that she is a defeated and miserable creature, hoping to gain unquestioned entrance to the drug dens of Pitax on her arrival. She easily manipulates Corax, a partner who has scorned her affection, into assaulting her in full view of the patrons of the local tavern, succeeding in punishing herself and exposing his violent nature to the public.
The plot that has dictated Nena's actions since arrival has only just begun to resolve itself. As she prays for guidance at Calistria's shrine, she is overwhelmed, and wakes to find herself surrounded by flames. Nena narrowly escapes with her life to find that the entire town is burning. She reports to Vareno, driven by a vision of the persons responsible for the blaze, and is immediately and dramatically dispatched by an assassin and just as suddenly revived by a passingly interested cleric. Madness descends on the city as the citizens struggle to save their homes and businesses, and look for an instigator to blame. A determined Julian insists that their unlikely pairing depart for Pitax immediately while the trail of their prey, the parties responsible for the fires, is still fresh.
Act One – Scene 2: Pitax before Irovetti’s Ascension
Cast of Characters
Protagonists:
Nena – Sacred Prostitute of Calistria
Jorunn Ravnir – Barbarian and Oracle of Battle
Ursian Septimar Voralius Demiter III – Boy Genius Diviner
Antagonists:
Leonardo Auditore – Cad
General Dyre – Sophisticated Villain
“Hellfaun” – Fey master of Bad Touching
The Irregulars:
Brother Drey Yarnes – Accolyte at Calistria’s cathedral
Cleric “Miro” – Priest of Calistria
Alan Warrick – Bard, Detective, the g-darn Batman
The scene opens on the road to Pitax. Julian and Nena sit beside a modest campfire. Nena is overwhelmed by feelings of failure and responsibility for the interruption in the lives of persons she has come to care for. Julian flatly informs her that she can claim none of it, and that her energy would be better spent assisting him in uncovering the real culprits when they reach the city. The pair grow closer, for the first time sharing intimacy without an audience or outside interference. Nena wakes earlier one morning and watches her lover sleep, and he stirs in a nightmare and strangles her neck. After a few moments he recognizes his error and apologizes profusely, explaining his behavior with some vague allusion towards his tortured past. Nena excuses him and assures him that she is not so easily frightened, and they continue on their journey together. An encounter with a wyvern en route very nearly prematurely terminates the quest, as Julian is affected by the wyvern’s poison and Nena’s best efforts to nurse him fail to aide his recovery. She spends a full night and day tending him while he makes his slow and painful recovery, and when he is able to walk again they hurry to the city to seek proper treatment. Just outside the city gates, Nena realizes that she has no plans for their accommodations and suggests that they inquire at the cathedral. Julian begrudgingly accepts, and there they meet Jorunn Ravnir in passing. The thick, tattooed Ulfen warrior woman laughs at Nena’s request for a tattoo and her jests, and invites the pair into her home to share stories, beer, and her bed.
Nena wakes in the morning between her golden lovers, and feels a sense of peace completely alien to her. She curls up in a huge fur with Calistria’s holy text waiting for the others to wake when a rap comes at the door. Her hostess answers the early call begrudgingly, admitting a young boy in worn robes. They converse for a time about his order, a vial of troll’s blood, and Nena understands that the boy is a wizard’s apprentice. Nude as her name day, she strides up to the poor soul and asks in an animated fashion if his master can assist her in finding a lost lover, feeling that the pleasant Bregan Battlebrew can lead her to their enemies. She and the obviously uncomfortable youth exchange some witty banter about courtesy, and Nena drags Jorunn back into the bedroom, effectively dismissing the boy. Jorunn pleads that Nena be more polite to the child, claiming that he is troubled, and she and Julian inform Jorunn of their purpose in the city, seeking her aide. Believing that she might be able to find information on their enemies at the cathedral, Nena invites Jorunn to accompany her for a visit. They are stopped outside the entrance of the establishment by a twin pair of Wardens who inform them that the villain Valgrim is within, a notorious bandit and child molester. Not recognizing the significance, Nena brazenly states that she can handle a simple bandit, and after a bit of argument the Wardens wash their hands of the young priestess with a death wish.
What lies inside is a scene of carnage not unknown to Nena, but emotionally striking as the victims are her lesser sister prostitutes. Nena stops to save one dying in a hallway and learns which way the monster went, and follows the trail of corpses he has left behind him up to the roof, where two surviving Wardens are engaged in combat with a lycanthrope, observed by a well dressed man ducked behind a door. Nena and Jorunn join the fray, but the creature resists Nena and the curious stranger’s best spells, but is eventually stopped by a hold spell, whereupon an enraged Jorunn knocks it unconscious with the flat of her blade and then hogties it with Nena’s reinforced scarf. The stranger introduces himself as Alan Warrick, and thanks them for their assistance in bringing the villain down. He reveals that he had been secure at another location and let loose by someone, and asks that any information they find be brought to him directly to prosecute. Nena asks after the priest of the cathedral and learns that the villain cut him down, and successfully negotiates for a scroll of raise dead in return for their assistance. Some hours later, Alan delivers the scroll and Jorunn revives the murdered priest, who identifies himself as Miro. Nena sends Jorunn home, intending to gain some information from the grateful cleric, but ends as his pet.
The departure from intimacy, and the resulting uproar surrounding Nena’s heroism upsets Julian, and he leaves her to her own devices, with only a hand written note explaining that it is a play to confuse their enemies. Nena vows to gain control of her faculties and earn his affection, and as per his instructions as she understood them, begins running interference for his activities. She spends hundreds of gold at the shops in Pitax, buys lavish meals, and begins establishing herself as a figure of desire at the cathedral, begrudgingly. She accompanies Jorunn on a monster hunt for the apprentice believing that her participation might curry some favor with him and his assistance in locating Bregan. After some playful teasing the girls invite him to lunch, and Nena overhears a soft metallic sound when he walks. When she asks about it he breaks into tears and admits that his own family kept him weak and as a slave for their interests. The girls pity him and bring him back to Jorunn’s house, where Nena’s compassion for his situation gets the better of her limited sense and she makes overtures towards physical comfort.
As in Littletown, in no short order Nena finds herself at the center of another carefully laid plot to keep her ignorant and visibly stumbling from one political charged situation to the next. She rescues a charmed and drugged girl from the forced affections of Leonardo Auditore, and is accounted an evil succubus by the beleaguered father for her troubles. Auditore, the cad, follows her out of the cathedral to mock her and she twists the conversation to learn that he, or someone he has been associating with has been watching her even in private, making reference to some embarrassing scenes with her new friend. Nena is led by the nose to be a witness to her hero Prince Berengar’s fall from power. Having learned a little of his opponent, Irovetti, in her investigations, Nena rushes to his side to offer her aide, feeling that the people of Pitax will suffer if she does not attempt to help. Berengar hits her, and it is he who recognizes that the scene was engineered by Irovetti to shame him, and Nena skips back to Jorunn’s feeling helpless and ashamed. Inside she finds Jorunn being tended by a handsome elven man, and Ursian cowering on a stool, appearing very close to wetting himself. The unwelcome guest introduces himself as Dyre, Irovetti’s calm, rational aide and offers her a title and a position beside the bard king as councilor. Her duties, he tells her, will include appeasing the nobility and the common people of Pitax, a role for which she is particularly well suited. Nena agrees, believing that being tied to the cadre will afford her some amount of influence, and some knowledge of their plans should they turn nefarious. Dyre informs her that she is being watched by fey creatures, and with the air of a father instructing a child, relates the best methods of trapping and disposal.
This is not the first Nena has heard of fey creatures. She was sent a dream previously of Irovetti standing atop the cathedral, flanked by an impossibly beautiful creature clad in gossamer silk offering her power if she agreed to obey. Wishing to get to the bottom of the fey puzzle, Nena sets the trap Dyre suggested and catches a pixie. Rather than killing him, she heals him and asks who he has been spying for. The pixie informs her that he has been watching her bedroom plays for his own personal amusement, but that there is a quickling that has taken particular interest in his relations of her exploits. They hatch a plan to draw the quickling out of hiding, involving appealing to the fey’s particular desires. The pixie mentions that there are several parties watching, including Ursian, but Nena fails to ask who, swept up in the moment. At the conclusion of their show, the pixie carries her back inside the house and delivers her into Jorunn’s bed, and whispers that he will return in two days.
Nena forces the implied threat from her mind and commits herself to the task Dyre has set her of setting the trade house representatives against each other. She visits the cathedral again, and speaks with Drey Yarnes, a man only a few years her senior to whom she relates the story of her humble beginnings and intentions, so that if she should stray someone may be able to recognize magical manipulation. Drey picks up on her problems with her faith, especially as she sees it defined by such radical elements as Leonardo Auditore, but in exchange for her veiled information about her task provides her with an opportunity to rendezvous with the Vescari nobles at a bachelor party. Nena attends in magical disguise and after surveying her options, forms fast acquaintance with an elder river captain taking large swigs from an unmarked brown bottle. Stavros Vescari identifies himself by his expertise and skill, and shares his drink and his woes with her, particularly that his nephew, his dead brother’s son, is marrying into the Strocalle family in some ill conceived attempt to mitigate the Liacenza family’s interests in the city. Nena presses her charm and her luck and learns more, and in exchange for his good nature, assists him in stirring the radical elements of the family assembled to reconsider their position. Feeling renewed in her faith, and a sense of purpose, Nena visits the Cattanei and Liacenza families the next day. The master of the Cattanei balks at her title of priestess and dismisses her as a waste of talent. The Liacenza head informs her that Berengar is missing, and is eager to forge an alliance, but Nena mistakes his intent and informs him that she has no power of her own.
Back at Jorunn’s house, the barbarian expresses her displeasure with Nena’s agreement to lure out the quickling with the pixie’s aide, lamenting that it would all be so much easier if they could track and kill their enemies. Nena dismisses her concern, for the most fearing that superior magics would easily murder them all, and isn’t it just so much more pleasant to maintain the illusion that maybe, just maybe, they might all survive should they pretend to behave themselves. She naps for a few hours, and dreams of running naked in a forest, driven by mocking laughter and wakes when the pixie informs her that it is the appointed time. He recognizes the trap Ursian and Jorunn have drawn for the quickling and suggests a change of venue, Cattanei master’s theater. Fearing for the lives of her partners and companions, Nena agrees.
As she walks down a hallway strewn with props, the stage background trees and vines become real, and she finds herself in a clearing in a magnificent forest. She remarks to the pixie how beautiful it all is and he replies in a rather flat voice that she will soon regret her words. At that moment, a faun appears. The faun assess Nena’s features, then in a smooth voice orders her to remove her garments. The pixie begins freaking out, and Nena recognizes that very bad things are about to happen. The “Hellfaun” as the pixie addresses him trots out a dominated former prince Berengar and orders his toy to assault her. Nena turns herself invisible and runs in a blind panic from the much larger man, and hears Berengar screaming about punishment, so she stops and relents to keep from harm. While he’s hurting her she succeeds her concentration check and casts a charm on him and begs him to stop, at which point the Hellfaun leaps on his back and begins beating him with a mean looking whip. He mocks Nena’s efforts to spare the man pain, and throws him off her, to reach into his fur and offer her something far more disgusting while Berengar shrieks about punishment. A flash of light distracts them both, and the pixie begins screaming for her to escape, and Nena picks herself up, takes one last look at Berengar and bolts for the light…
And steps into a vineyard outside the city. The pixie falls to his knees and vomits, drawing a crowd of brownies looking on in horror from behind the grapevines. Nena expresses her gratitude for his assistance, then despite her battered condition cast invisibility on herself and runs passed Wardens stationed at the city gates to Jorunn’s house. There she sees Ursian exercising for a brief moment before he reacts and casts lightning bolt and takes her down in a single round. She wakes again in a dark place, held by a pair of manacles and is interrogated by him concerning details of their former lives, and Jorunn’s background. Satisfied with Nena’s answers, Ursian frees her, and explains in broad terms what has happened since she disappeared over three weeks ago. Irovetti has claimed the throne of Pitax, riots broke out all over the city, and Jorunn is now working with General Dyre to hunt and execute rebels. Nena asks after Julian, and is told that he is gone. Traumatized, she simply accepts it, and heals herself, then rolls over and passes out. The next morning the unlikely couple argue again as Nena demands to know what has happened to Julian in her absence, and upon learning that he is held captive by General Dyre and Irovetti she very nearly loses her mind with grief. Ursian, who previously claimed to love her, skips out on her, and when she chases after him they discover that Alan Warrick has tracked Ursian’s magic signature to his hideaway. He suggests that Nena assemble a team capable of infiltrating Irovetti’s stronghold and murder Julian so that he cannot be used against Nena while she uses her influence to organize a resistance. Nena agrees reluctantly, preferring to hold the hope that she can rescue her lover close to her heart rather than speak and prove herself the fool.
Before departing, Alan warns that Irovetti’s patrols will be making rounds in the neighborhood. Nena recalls that Stavros Vescari had gifted her with a key to a safehouse at the docks, and she and Ursian head there to assess the accommodations. Nena is greeted by several sap blows to the head before she has a moment to react, and Ursian holds and then drops a very disgruntled young woman with magic. After reviving her with a hearty slap, the elder girl is identified as Anica Vescari, and that she was told to expect Nena’s arrival by her uncle Stavros, who has gone missing. Anica leads the pair on a tour of the underground storehouse, passed barrels of wine and jerky years passed their prime, a bunk room and an office which Nena and Ursian claim and break in for their own that evening. There was a flutter of doubt in Ursian’s demeanor when she suggested that they wait considering her recent sexual trauma, but his argument was sound. If she were to give up Calistria as she claimed, they should know what that entailed. The sex was generally unsatisfying, but Nena became aware of his feelings for her, as genuine and mature as a teenaged boys could be, and they fell asleep together. That night Calistria sends Nena a hellish nightmare of her loved ones dashed to pieces, and the bloody pieces crawling towards her, pinning her down and assaulting her. Nena wakes with a terrorized scream and is convinced that the city above is on fire like Littletown, that when they emerge in the morning there will be nothing left. Ursian comforts her and tells her that he knows of a man working on a brew to eliminate unnatural fear, and he will take her to see him. The puzzle is enough to lull her to sleep, and in the morning Nena, Ursian and Anica prepare to leave the city to meet Romanov Ulricio.
Act One, Scene Three: Enter Romanov Ulricio, stage extremely Right
Cast of Characters
Nena – Confused bard and formerly sacred prostitute of Calistria
Anica Vescari – Noble Lady, Pain in the Rear and First Mate
Ursian – Convenient Wizard
Romanov Ulricio – drunk, lecher, battle oracle
After botching the handoff for the bribe to leave the city through Warden patrolled gates, Nena and Anica argue, fluffing up their tails and circling each other like kittens posing for dominance. They argue again when they make camp, and Ursian plugs his ears and studies his books. The cause of their inability to understand each other is that they are both essentially the same girl – proud, stubborn and confused about their position in the world. Anica has suffered trauma recently, as well. In the dead of night, her own father attempted to murder her. Nena also learns that Anica has a particular hatred for Calistrians and the cathedral, as Iron Fox agents drove her to suicide when they blackmailed her for her magically manipulated patronage. Nena assures Anica that she would never subscribe to such a petty scheme, although in her mind she recalls a certain figure who fits the description, reinforcing her decision to abandon the goddess of harlots.
Ursian’s paranoia leads them to camp in extra dimensional pockets overnight, and his paranoia becomes infectious and supported by Anica’s unexcused nocturnal excursions. Nena confronts her one morning, and climbs down the rope to ineffectually survey their campsite, but finds nothing out of the ordinary. It is her belief that Anica communes with the fey that abound in the wilds to deliver Nena back into their hands, keeping her recent trauma at the front of her mind like a horrible nightmare she has the joy of revisiting each day on their slow march to the monastery. In particular, Nena’s mind keeps flashing back on the scene of Berengar screaming in the forest while she fled, feeling that she abandoned her humanity with her former hero. Ursian is very little comfort, although he tries he has no presence. Nena keeps watch while Anica bathes and teases her with her nudity and flatly informs her that she is not her type. Anica returns that she knows, that she is not an old man, referring to her uncle, or a convenient wizard. Nena, abashed, is forced to agree with her unflattering summary.
The trio of fugitives arrive at vineyard and monastery maintained by Cayden Cailean’s faithful at the very moment one of his monks is having a bit of trouble with a pair of Etins. With Nena and Ursian’s aide, Anica, little more than a glorified thief, quickly dispatches the giants, and the trio assist the frazzled brother in completing the task set to him to fetch more ale from the storehouse and deliver it to his comrades. Nena, the strongest member of the trio carries Ursian’s cask for him, and walks ahead of Anica to draw attention from the lady. They arrive in the midst of a rowdy scene as monks are challenging each other to partake of their brother’s brew. Nena discards her charge and pulls Anica to the center of the fray and tells an engrossing tale of the great warrior that defended their brother, extolling her virtues and warning about her combat prowess should any of the brothers have inclinations about liberating her chastity. The inebriated host proclaim the lady Anica a hero and nominate her for sainthood on the spot, and promptly begin arguing about the finer details. Nena slips away with Ursian and asks after his friend Romanov, whom they find sleeping behind an empty barrel. Ursian kicks the man in his ribs and shouts for him to wake up, which causes Nena to cringe, remembering her own experience with excess in Littletown. A huge man lumbers up from the floor, easily owning a foot and a half of Nena’s height and three times her weight. He suavely slicks back his sweat-matted hair and introduces himself as Romanov Ulricio to “the hot kid,” though Nena’s speech and generous endowments quickly convince him to reassess his initial perception. He leads the pair to a quiet place to talk, and the lady Anica to continue availing herself of the monk’s hospitality.
Romanov, with a decade of battle experience on the adolescent couple is quick to assess the situation from Nena’s cursory summary. She wishes to recruit him into their revolutionary band, but not only for the task of opposing Irovetti, but with an agent of the divine at her side the probability that she can save Julian increases significantly. Romanov smiles and agrees, more for the sake of personal curiosity than Nena’s impassioned argument, understanding her true intentions rather easily. He senses a greater mystery about her, as though called to some purpose by the divine, or under the spell of a particularly powerful fey. Nena evades and asks Ursian if she can leave the conversation, ill at ease with the thread that Romanov has picked up on when the priest casts a spell to suppress all enchantments on her, instantly casting a host of her memories into doubt and leaving in their place an impossibly beautiful tune played on a set of pipes. Nena, recalling her terror when in the presence of the Hellfaun bolts for an escape, pursued by the two interested spell casters. She makes it to the hall where the priests continue to celebrate Anica, and blacks out when she intends to vomit. A voice tells her that she was merely a pawn moved about for his lady’s amusement, and easily discarded by all parties, including Calistria who has no love for her at all. Ursian’s quick magical intervention saves her life, and Romanov scoops her up and after yelling at the remainder of their ill fitting party to collect themselves, rushes away from the monastery where the veil between the prime material and the First World is particularly thin. Nena reels in the reality that her nightmares were exactly that, but as the distance from the monastery increases, the alien influence abates and she can more easily accept that six weeks of her life amount to pipe music. The party spends the night in a cave, Nena clinging to Ursian as the only creature she can accept as being “real,” and even though her connection to Calistria has been severed, she cannot return his love.
That night, Nena dreams of a wasp in a jar. She is told by a voice in her dream that the wasp is her faith in Calistria, trapped by a fey prank to break her spirit and leave her open to possession by a creature wishing to attain influence in this world, and that she has only to break the jar to become whole again. And Nena does, reasoning that she would like to have vengeance on they fey who tricked and terrorized her, and upon Irovetti who keeps her love captive. She smashes the jar and a host of wasps is seen to devour the Hellfaun. She wakes to find Romanov hovering over her head, and he warmly welcomes her back to her faith, encouraging her freedom of choice to lead her own life. Urisan is beside himself, and angry, but accepts that there is little he can do to convince her to abandon the divine and accept his love. They celebrate her renewed fervor together, until they are interrupted by sounds of struggle without, which upon investigation reveals that Anica is attacking Romanov, who tells the lady that her cowardice is leading her to live a false life, and he uses his magics to bring her to her own truth. Anica’s mother did not commit suicide to spare her family political humiliation, she was a member of a particularly sanguine sex cult who threatened the life of her own daughter to achieve her diabolical ends. “The Black Mother” Ursian names the figure in the vision they share, a name Nena recognizes as one who was implicated in several unsuccessful attempts on her life in Littletown. Ursian suggests the party returns to the city to discover which of Nena’s memories were true, where they went astray and find any possible leads on the Black Mother as they reason that she is responsible for Stavros’s disappearance.
On their journey, Romanov and Ursian battle each other for Nena’s affections. Despite her attraction to the elder, handsome, and physically imposing oracle, Nena’s will holds and she rebuffs his advances several times, reasoning that seduction is just as fulfilling if not more so than coitus. Ursian is in a fluster, however, claiming that Nena has not once thanked him for saving her life and is in general unappreciative of his efforts, and becomes cool towards her. In a night of drunken excess, she teases both Anica and Romanov into indulging each other, and she witnesses for a time before stumbling to a lonely cot in the shelter Ursian erected for them, and after finishing Romanov approaches her and tells her the reason why he follows her, his feeling that she is destined for greatness. Nena dismisses his jest, claiming that no one would hand a scepter to a caravan merchants bastard get, then when Ursian stirs assists him to vomit. They return to find that Romanov has altered the spell with “the power of big muscles and not giving a damn” creating a huge bed of conjured mattresses on the floor, and orders everyone to huddle together for warmth. Anica again expresses interest in espousing Calistria’s ideals, begging Nena to tell her some of the good times in Her service, to which Nena responds by turning her back and crying herself to sleep.
Ursian becomes increasingly distant as their journey continues, deliberately picking fights with Romanov and saying upsetting things to Nena. She finds herself torn between them, and her desire for Romanov versus the depth of feeling and care she has for Ursian. When prompted, she admits that her indulgence with Anica was what she would do for any client, and that since losing her memories she is confused to her purpose in life. Romanov laughs at her and suggests she do as she pleases, as the life of an adventure is rarely long and she especially hasn’t the mental fortitude to contemplate what is best in it, simply acting and enjoying herself will lend to a better end. Inspired by his words, Nena takes Romanov to bed that night while Anica and Ursian watch, and it devolves into orgy-tastic excess. In the morning, Romanov advances their presence in the wilds as a cause for their particular enthusiasm, shrugs, and packs his things to continue. The party stop at a cache of weapons and gear arranged by Stavros to equip themselves, and Nena, who has not been responding particularly well to the pressure of the invalidation of her memories on top of her experiences and her knowledge of the nature of Julian’s captivity has a very bad evening. Romanov comforts her in a particularly gentle way, which further fuels Ursian’s derision, and he snaps at them both and reveals Romanov’s history as a bandit and murderer. Nena simply shakes her head and dismisses it, but the pair converse after, coming to what Nena believes is a mutual conclusion about the nature of their relationship. She does not believe that Romanov is truly inclined to stay with her, but she is okay with that conclusion, because some day Ursian will grow up and become the man that she needs.
Less than a day away from Littletown their journey is interrupted by a huge storm. Ursian hastily erects a shelter to protect them, and each member of the party gives hand to reinforcing the structure from the inside. Effectively sequestered for the duration, Romanov forces Nena to come to terms with some very uncomfortable truths in an effort to get her to progress as a person towards the leader that they need her to be. Resistant at first, she gradually comes to accept it, and after sorting her garish and ill-conceived disguise from her possessions, informs Romanov that she will no longer be his whore. He smiles and embraces her and calls her by her new adopted name, Anamede, for a bard that came before, one who was willing to speak the truth even when her life was threatened.
Less than a day passes when Nena’s adopted leadership persona is tested. Upon arrival on the outskirts of Littletown, Ursian collapses and neither Anica nor Romanov can revive him. Panicked, as the bulk of her plans for the city revolve around the wizard, Nena orders Romanov to carry the child on his back to town. They find the newly fortified gates manned by a curious mixture of out of place town guard supervised by a Warden. Nena gathers her wits about her and weaves the previous storm and Ursian’s sudden illness into a lie to get passed the obstacle, but is forced to leave a false name. The guard, taking pity on their plight, informs her that the people within are in a poorly state and magical healing is in high demand with short supply. Within, Nena asks Anica to move ahead and secure some manner of shelter while she contemplates the most likely spot she might find Father Bucklecrumb, the plucky priest of Erastil, but Anica quickly returns with a tale about a woman being burned at the stake. Nena recognizes Romanov’s desire to save the woman, and asks to receive his Ursian burden, and carries the unconscious wizard to the scene. A Qadiri woman has been chained to a stake and an agitated mob becomes flustered when she does not burn. Nena turns on her charm to learn the cause of their fervor, and draws their attention away while Romanov protects himself and rescues the maiden. The leader claims that the woman is a servant of the devil who murdered Father Bucklecrumb, and a threat to their community. The priestess seethes, claiming that her faith in Sarenrae is being tarnished by his lies. A glare and harsh words from Nena and Romanov dispatch largely thinned mob and its leader, and in return for their intervention the priestess agrees to examine Ursian.
The priestess leads the party to an improvised refugee camp erected for those left homeless as a result of the fires, where Nena casually witnesses the devastation visited on the common folk who had not the means to start their lives over. Sayyida, she introduces herself, welcomes them to her home, a mostly intact but burned building where she has set up her clinic, and keeps a small kitchen and a number of guest rooms. Her examination of Ursian is brief but thorough, and she informs Nena that he has contracted dysentery, but before she will cure the disease she wants to know its cause. Nena meets the priestess of Sarenrae’s eyes and calmly tells her a lie that she met Ursian on their shared exodus from the city in the chaos of the riots, and he had told her about some idiot girl that he had fallen in love with and left behind. Sayyida believes her and cures Ursian’s ailments, then prescribes rest to recover fully. Shaken by the ordeal, Nena bunks down with her friend and lover for mutual comfort, and Romanov visits to inform her that he is going out.
Act One, Scene Four – Return to Littletown
Cast of Characters
Protagonists:
Sayyida – Qadiri Priestess of Sarenrae
Ragnar – Ulfen Ranger devoted to Thrud
Romanov Ulricio – Lecher, battle oracle, Cayden’s good-ol’ boy
Antagonists:
Horatio Vareno – Silver General, military dictator of Littletown
Ursian Septimar Voralius, III – Increasingly mad boy genius diviner
Calistria
The Irregulars:
Rahkhaim – Qadiri diviner and proprietor of Fausto’s House Burlesque
Kievan Edros – Master shipwright, and smuggler
Natasha – An orphan
Nena wakes earlier than her exhausted companion, and slips out of bed just around dawn to observe her hostess, Sayyida, praying. Enticed by the romantic idea of redemption for her many sins, Nena seeks to gain the priestess’s confidence to learn more about her Lady’s kind ways. Sayyida senses Nena’s confusion and makes it known that she will be available, so much as her duties around the camp allow. Nena inquires after Romanov’s whereabouts, eager to begin her investigation, and learns that he has not returned from his excursion. She also learns that the Silver General Horatio Vareno has remained in town, and after declaring a state of martial law and himself the dictator. Now completely aware of the General’s skill as a self-interested manipulator, Nena hurries and wakes Ursian to recover their wandering companion, fearful that he has already involved her friends in a plot above even her abilities to sort. Ursian grumbles and drags his feet and Nena backs down, opting instead to visit the market to become acquainted with the economy and opportunities available since her departure. They find it walled off from the city proper and its entrances staffed by guards without, and Wardens within, policing the transactions. Ursian explains for Nena’s benefit that the visible oppression makes the market more accessible for the merchants, and keeps the thieves out, but Nena’s concern is for the starving outside the walls begging for coppers. With a flat affect Ursian replies that separating the market from the citizens is also an effective method for subjugating and controlling the passions of the people. Nena discusses the changes with the merchants themselves while she shops to replace all the things she left behind on the road, and learns that since Vareno’s installation, their profits have been slightly less but there have been fewer troll and barbarian attacks on their supply lines, although the city itself is not spared the occasional raid. She keeps her suspicions about the reasons to herself, until they are confirmed by Ursian, that the trolls and barbarians are also controlled by Irovetti to maintain a constant state of fear in the hearts of the average citizen.
When they return to Sayyida’s home, they find a severely inebriated Romanov collapsed in a corner of a guest room, reeking of alcohol and several other foul smells. For the second time Nena doubts and attempts to place a check on her feelings for the oracle, and Ursian is tickled pink to relate to her the shameful situations his rival has become involved in, gloating as he purports himself to be the superior lover. The pair step out and discuss their options while Romanov sleeps. They invite Anica to join them in an excursion to Mica’s to arrange a meet with the spunky and connected Halfling tavern mistress, but are greeted instead by a shapeless Ustalavan barkeep and a group of a half dozen Pitax regulars eating lunch. Though shrouded in glamour, Nena’s form receives quite a bit of attention from the assembly, who offer a place at their table. She cleaves to Ursian and spares a few terse jests for the cock sure regulars, but recognizes among them an outstanding specimen. He speaks up and reminds his patrol of their discipline, and then apologizes for their abysmal behavior. Nena and Anica are served by Annabelle, formerly a prostitute at Virgilio’s House Burlesque and Nena’s rival. Nena very nearly swallows her tongue in fear of being pulled back into the fey plot to steal her soul, and excuses herself to have a panic attack in the restroom, calms herself and exits to find herself face to face with the patrol sergeant who introduces himself as Ragnar. They make awkward startled conversation, and Ragnar tells her that he was once a part of the Order of the Wolf, a mercenary team specialized in hunting and killing trolls. Nena makes an offhand comment how timely his residence is considering the problems the town has been facing, and accepts his invitation to share some drinks some night and returns to Ursian. Ragnar returns and gathers his patrol, then makes a conciliatory gesture to acknowledge Nena’s relationship with Ursian as he shuffles the men out the door. In return, Ursian sneers and asks her when she plans on sleeping with the man.
The trio return to Sayyida’s and Ursian directs Nena to run a distraction on the priestess while he interrogates Romanov about his subversive activities. Nena complies begrudgingly, becoming more and more used to deferring to Ursian in most situations. She meets Sayyida outside her house and they speak of religion and makes allusions to their quest. More than that, however, Nena is interested in being examined by the priestess, for the most withholding an intense fear that whatever relations she might have had in her mysterious three week absence have left her pregnant. Sayyida confirms Romanov’s earlier and likely simply reassuring assertion that she is not, and offers to examine her more thoroughly after dinner. They return to the house at the tail end of Ursian’s interrogation, greeted by a chorus of Romanov’s strained, hungover protests about the noise. He informs Nena that he arranged a meet with Mica later in the evening. The priestess’s examination reveals some manner of fey tampering, a type of symbiote placed inside of her meant to act as a beacon of energy to track her movements, but a number of spells kill and remove the alien device. Nena sends Anica and Romanov to Mica’s ahead of herself and Ursian and while they discuss the significance of the discovery, and a confident Ursian declares that the measure was merely a method of preserving her fear and ignorance to control her from afar, and that they have nothing left to fear from the fey. Reassured, she escorts Ursian to Mica’s, clinging to his arm like a proper infatuated lady.
The night scene at Mica’s is far livelier than the afternoon. In her disguise, Nena offers to sing and draw more of a crowd in exchange for a few free rounds, and sings a few choice numbers recalling events and details of Mica’s former tavern to entice her interest without being overt, but her attempts fall on deaf ears. She continues to have problems with unruly Pitax regulars making advances, despite her best efforts to shame them into keeping their peace. At one point, a misguided regular pulls off his sweater to display his impressive qualities and Romanov breaks out in a peal of laughter. Having thoroughly abused them, Nena returns her attention to Ursian, when she is accosted by a pair of much more daring suitors who threaten to use force to gain her affection. The pair are immediately silenced by the entrance of their sergeant, however, who orders them to return to camp and shine boots for disobeying his command to “leave the girl alone.” Ragnar’s armor is spattered with blood, and he confirms that he was injured in an incident involving trolls outside the city. Nena offers to heal him, and they retire to one of Mica’s rooms for privacy, and makes sure that he understands that she has to touch him to heal him. Interacting with the glamour allows him to recognize that it exists, and his expert eyes quickly dispose of her disguise. Nena apologizes for her deception, and confirms Ragnar’s suspicion she stands in opposition to and is wanted by Irovetti’s Burgandy court. Ragnar reveals that he followed Irovetti to Littletown, and offers Nena his aide to achieve his vengeance against the man, and to be her lover as well. Uncertain, Nena invites Ursian to the negotiations, and is quite shocked when the wizard agrees to the arrangement without argument. Before he takes his leave, Ragnar asks for and receives a favor from Nena, then introduces her and Ursian to his companion, Raemja, a spotted leopard and orders her to protect the pair while he works.
More surprises lie in store that evening. Nena and the gang remain in the tavern until closing hours, at which point Nena and an inebriated Romanov begin arguing about her pointed ignorance of his affection and his bed and her coddling of Ursian. Enraged, the large man smashes his fist into the boy wizard’s face, breaking his nose. Nena, suffering deeply from the strain of maintaining multiple lines of deception at once breaks down and admits her reservations about her supposed relationship with Romanov, based on something so tenuous as the passion of their moments together when all other signs point to him being the worst partner for her. Romanov hastily rebuffs her rational arguments, stating that she cannot get enough of him, that his presence and heart is her perfect compliment, and that he makes her feel like a girl. Abashed, Nena agrees and he scoops her up for an almost full night of furious coupling aided by restorative magic. Sated, and perhaps a little maddened by it all, Nena staggers back to the common room and collects Ursian to return to Sayyida’s for the remainder of the morning.
Nena dreams are visited by Calistria, who praises her indulgence with Romanov and offers her even greater power if only she would offer Her Romanov, Ursian and Ragnar. Nena refuses, channeling Romanov’s sermons on choice and freedom, which upsets the Savored Sting. For her impertinence, Calistria turns Nena’s lust to pain, opening a number of wounds equal to the number of times she coupled with Romanov. Calistria gives Nena three days to regret her decision and come crawling back to beg forgiveness if she wishes to live. Nena wakes in real panic, bleeding profusely, and Ursian rushes to wake Sayyida to stop the bleeding. Trembling, Nena recounts the dream and Calistria’s curse, that she should never find satisfaction of her vengeance and understands that Calistria has stolen her ability to deceive. Ursian laments the failure of their quest at its inception, and Nena rolls over on their bed and politely request to be left alone to die. Ursian snaps and begins throttling Nena, refusing to let her die, but stops when he recognizes that he, too, is hurting her. Within minutes Ragnar arrives, summoned by Raemja’s unease and the shared sense of disgust at the smell of Nena’s blood. Gathering her wits about her, Nena explains to the assembly what must take place in order to reverse the curse and regain Calistria’s favor, the least of which is a bit of humility on her part.
Preparations for the ritual take place without Nena’s knowledge, or particular care. She bides her time improving morale in the camp, because she has no talents elsewise. In the morning, she purchases an enticing outfit, and dons it prior to being invited to participate in the ritual. Prior to indulging, Nena apologizes to Ragnar that their relationship has to begin in such a desperate and unnatural manner, and he smiles and assures her that he thinks nothing less of her for the unusual demands of her goddess. Orgy like excess is indulged in, and Calistria’s favor restored with fervor, granting Nena several boons, including a bonus to her strength, her magnetism, and the promise that if she continues to amuse that these are the least of the boons that she can earn. Shortly after the deed is done, the party is attacked by a group of armored and armed trolls, which the four assembled spell casters easily abate and the two dedicated warriors dispatch. Nena suggests celebrating her continued existence with drinks at Mica’s, but Ragnar declines, citing his duty to track the origins of such a large party of trolls and inform his superiors. On their trek back to the city, Nena contemplates the incredible timing of the attack, but Ursian dismisses it as coincidence, and she accepts his judgment at face value.
After a briefing about what she has missed in her downtime, the party minus Ragnar head to Mica’s to celebrate. Nena adopts her usual blonde, pale complexioned disguise, but is recognized almost immediately by a most unwelcome sight, the Silver General Horatio Vareno. Nena does her best to ignore his presence as she orders the first round of drinks, and settles in beside Ursian, then takes him out on the dance floor. Vareno cuts in and in the course of their nigh flawless routine together expresses his interest in seeing her again. He tells her to meet him at a warehouse in the dock district the following night to discuss their future. Nena thanks him for his concern and the time he has set aside for her, and returns to her companions, becoming slightly worried when Ragnar does not return in short order. She is relieved when he does, and after a drink they quit the tavern for the privacy of Sayyida’s home. Ragnar approaches Nena privately while she is changing into less constrictive attire, and tells her that the trolls were being manipulated by some manner of magician who shot missiles at him in the darkness. Nena expresses her concern about his safety, rationalizing that there are not a great many exceptional rangers in the area, and Ragnar assures her that he can take care of himself. In a rather emotional moment, Nena exiles Romanov from the party, recognizing that the constant bickering between him and Ursian is affecting group morale and also in no small part blaming him for the curse visited upon her by Calistria. The charismatic oracle sings a sad song and excuses himself after informing Nena of his plans to take up residence at Mica’s. Ursian drinks himself silly and attempts to instruct Raemja in the methods of identifying evil fey spell casters, then rushes outside to vomit. Nena puts him to bed, leaving the unlikely pairing of the priestess and the thief and herself and the ranger to entertain each other. They speak about religion for a few minutes before retiring, the girls to the hostess’s bedroom and Nena to the room Romanov quitted which she expends spells to tidy the bed and make him comfortable. They have sex, and short of dozing in his impressive arms, Nena stumbles across the hall and into Ursian’s bed for the remainder of the night. He asks her if the sex was good, and she replies that it was not him, and he chuckles and remarks that there would be little point otherwise, then wraps his arms around her possessively.
Preparations for Nena’s meeting with Vareno are exceedingly tense. Ursian instructs Nena to seduce him, and keep him in the dark about their plans, or failing that, have Ragnar in place to assassinate him because having him as an enemy would be extremely inconvenient. Nena expresses her distaste for the task, not wishing to fall under Vareno’s spell when she has only just escaped fey influence. Ursian frowns and tells her she needs to accept her responsibilities, and that she hasn’t the right to refuse Vareno as it will cause him to abandon his carefully laid plans. Again, Nena defers to Ursian’s machinations, because he is correct, it is highly likely that she will end up in Vareno’s bed no matter what choice she makes for herself. Ragnar offers and stalks out to the location far in advance, to scout and maintain the area for Nena’s security. Still apprehensive, Nena spends the majority of her day scrubbing pots, dishes and entertaining at the soup kitchen to alleviate the burden on her mind through work. For her efforts, Sayyida rewards her with a hot bath, the first she has taken since before her disappearance. Nena dresses conservatively, and walks out towards her rendezvous, encountering a group of sailors loading some manner of merchandise into their boat in the wee hours. Using her quick wit and sharp tongue, she warns the uncouth gentlemen off bothering her, and continues on to her destination, where she is met by Vareno. He uncovers a trap door just a little off the entrance of the warehouse and leads her down a short ladder to his subterranean shagging dungeon, complete with large, ornate furnishings and a well-stocked wine closet. He pours her a glass of wine, which she sips at politely, and puts aside to converse, but that is not his objective. His objective is to bed her for the duration of her glibness spell, so that he will have the advantage. And Nena agrees. And the physical experience is in every way superior to being with Ursian, and furthermore, his presence is so great that she cannot even conjure a thought for the wizard’s judgment of her. But there is no depth of sentiment, and even in the midst of the act, Nena can say that while she enjoys his efforts, she still finds his behavior poor and his methods repugnant, which is a vast improvement on her typical deference to authority. Afterwords, they speak of the alliance she seeks, and in exchange for providing information he offers Nena his protection. He arranges another meet in two days, and they part cordially.
Ragnar catches up with Nena on her walk back to the camp. She apologizes for her behavior, knowing full well the ranger’s senses are sensitive enough to have heard everything that was said during the session, and he grabs her and somewhat forcefully lets her know that his affections have not waned in the least. A little dazzled by his overture and lack of judgment, Nena agrees to be carried back to the camp on his back, and his full run with her upon his back is an enticing testament to his physical prowess. Nena checks in with Ursian, who with a sneer congratulates her on attaining Vareno’s support and directs her to a bath he prepared. Nena invites Ragnar to join her, intending to attend him in the bath as a show of good faith for the hours he wasted providing security because she was paranoid about walking into battalion of Wardens and being dragged back to Pitax by tethers lashed to her naughty parts. They have sex, and after Nena agrees to spend the night in his bed, make love for the first time. As with Romanov over a week previous, she registers the sharp difference in the experience, and enjoys his warmth and protection more than the pleasure he gives her. And for the first night since before she was abducted, secure in Ragnar’s arms, Nena sleeps soundly.
With Ursian’s behavior becoming increasingly erratic and abusive, Nena begins preferring Ragnar’s company. The pair train together, or, in comparison on her part she struggles to keep up with his morning regimen to maintain her physical health. When Ragnar is unavailable, Nena wrestles with Raemja, proving to be nothing more than an amusing diversion for the large cat, who easily pins her every time. Ursian expresses his disdain for physical pursuits above strict academic and magical training, effectively shaming Nena into submission yet again, and feeding her doubt that the feelings that she has developed for Ragnar and those she discarded for Romanov were ever genuine. Nena feels increasingly isolated and dependent on Ursian’s better judgment to force her progress. She tells him she loves him, and that she cannot imagine a future without him in it, but that future she sees is one she cannot even fathom attaining. Monogomy, fidelity, children… All the things a common woman would want with her beloved, each is against her nature and contrary to her goals. She is a devotee of Calistria, a trickster, and sworn to restore and avenge her shame and the many insults visited upon her loved ones by Castruccio Irovetti and the creature known as the Hellfaun. Her body is not her own, but her heart… Her idealistic, passionate heart wishes that she could attain those things as well, and what better partner than a genius wizard?
Having learned that any attempt to lure Ursian away from his crafting generates a derisive altercation, Nena skirts around him and sets to work gathering information about Vareno’s enemies. Her first contact is with Annabelle, the usurper, who informs her that their former employer’s business has been on the decline since Virgillio left and opened his own House Burlesque nearer the regular’s barracks. She warns Nena that there are dark dealings there, with girls being abused by particularly uncouth soldiers for unfair wages. Nena begrudgingly visits her former place of employment, where she is received with highly suspicious charm and enthusiasm by Fausto the pimp. The house remains in bad repair, with a huge chunk of it where the kitchen and alchemy lab frequented by Bregan Battlebrew exploded. Rahkhaim begs her aide in restoring the house and, Nena reads, his former comforts at cost to her. He also makes an overture to lie with her again, which she coolly declines, and then tours the facilities and asks the laborers setting in place very poor temporary repairs their estimates on how much it would cost to do properly.
The investment is sizable, to say the least. Doe-eyed, Nena floats back to the refugee camp, spying a Chelaxian hellknight at the former residence of the lord mayor Tallfellow on her way, a terror which lends to a little more spring in her step. She makes a hasty report to Ursian, then wrestles some with Raemja to relieve her adrenaline jitters and aide her focus, and is relieved when Ragnar returns home safely. He picks her up, carries her to his room and proceeds to deliver a practical lesson on patience in a prolonged session of love making. Nena remains behind for a few moments to tidy up after their coupling while he joins the remainder of the party for dinner, and then invites Ursian to join them at the table, the first social activity she has pressed on him in a while. This turns out to be an almost fatal mistake, as the young diviner pauses to read her mind, and does not like what he finds there. And when at their impromptu strategy meeting she agrees with Sayyida that they should make an effort not to harm anyone in their operations, Ursian explodes, calling them feebleminded idealists and cowards and cursing their endeavors to complete and abject failure for their lack of resolve to effect any change. Nena’s attempt to speak with him privately only drives him further away, as he screams that she is in love with the meek ranger, and thus he has absolutely no place beside her any more. He resolves to find employment with her enemies, as he asserts that that is the safest place to be as the party will never find the courage to actually move against anyone. Nena and Ragnar track his hasty retreat from them to Mica’s where Nena tries and fails to convince him of the error of his interpretation of the truth he read in her mind directly after a session of lovemaking, arguing that he has never done so after they have had sex, so he couldn’t say for certain that she did not love him as well. Ursian slanders her, and Ragnar, and uses magic to shove her away, and after a particularly moving performance to pacify the patrons she confesses that it was Calistria who ordered her to take others elsewise She would destroy Ursian’s mind. The wizard steps outside and glares up at the clear sky, and defiantly declares that he will not be swayed by the divine. He will return to the party, but he will be in charge; Nena will not question his decisions, and he will only allow her to sleep with the man that she loves most. She holds her peace until she and Ragnar return to Sayyida’s, and the patient ranger takes her to bed holds her tightly while she trembles and cries herself to sleep.
In the morning, Nena attends Sayyida’s mass at dawn, looking for some comfort, and when it comes to a close, notices Ragnar speaking to Ursian. To afford the pair privacy, and clear her mind, she leads Raemja on a run around the outskirts of the camp, then returns with the intention of scrubbing pots at the kitchens. Ursian pulls her aside and informs her that he and Ragnar have come to an agreement, that Ragnar will keep her until Ursian is older, and if he should not be able to stomach having an unfaithful prostitute for a lover then, he will terminate their relationship. He also tells her that he is considering murdering Romanov, Ragnar and Vareno, and any other man that may touch her, so that she will tremble each time they touch her, knowing that she could be their death. A shaken Nena avoids all interaction with Sayyida, who makes overtures to speak to her about the scene the previous night, unwilling to implicate Ursian in his insane plot. As ordered, she appears at Ursian’s conjured shelter several hours ahead of her meeting with Vareno to discuss their strategy ad finds a young girl sitting beside the door reading a host of books the mad wizard has tossed outside. Nena learns that the girl’s name is Natasha, she was orphaned in the fires, and that she reads exceptionally well and wishes for more books. Nena promises that she will negotiate with her friend within when Ursian appears at the door, clearly agitated, but quickly disguises his spite for Nena when he recognizes the girl’s potential to learn magic. Nena assists in the negotiation to free the girl from her abusive uncle, in exchange for some help at his struggling vineyard.
With Ursian otherwise engaged with his neophyte apprentice, Ragnar offers to join Nena in her pursuits. She brings him with her to the rival brothel, intending to confirm for herself the rumors of abuse. They are met at the gates by off duty regulars, whom Nena charms into divulging the names of the best girls in the house, Leila and Lisbeth, while she marks the security system set in place. Inside the brothel, two loyal walls of plate flank a greedy shopkeep in an iron cage. Nena pays for an hour of Leila’s services, and she and Ragnar are escorted by an extremely personable and talented Halfling named Ethaniealobar to her evening’s entertainment. Leila is the most beautiful woman Nena has ever seen, completely diverting Ragnar’s attention and stealing Nena’s breath when she strips down and steps into a pool in the corner of her lavish apartments. Coming to her senses, Nena recognizes that Leila is a fey creature, and one with a proposition. The nymph tells her that the Hellfaun sent a seed to poison Ursian’s mind when Nena escaped his grasp, and in exchange for Leila’s help to remove the growth and stem his madness, she wishes for Nena to investigate a place beyond the reach of her magic, a dark place where many of their sisters have disappeared. Nena agrees, and after spending the majority of her hour performing for the nymph, exits with Ragnar and considers her position. She decides that she must see Rahkhaim for more information, and arrives to find the brothel security incapacitated around its breached entrance. On closer inspection the guards are alive, and fearing for her sisters, Nena runs to Rahkhaim’s office to find him held hostage by an angry Vareno who is demanding information of a different sort, specifically to know who is behind the manipulation of the trolls around the city. Nena spams enchantments to get the wizard to speak, but to no avail. It appears that like her, his memories have been tampered with. She excuses herself and returns to the entrance, signaling Ragnar to approach while she heals a guard, and gives Ragnar the task of collecting Romanov. She returns to the office with enough time to intervene when Vareno begins breaking furniture over the wizard’s back to provoke his compliance, and is relieved when Romanov arrives to break the enchantment on his mind. Their reunion is brief, and colored by Nena’s many woes, and he exits before Rahkhaim finishes vomiting into a waste bin and offers everything he knows about his assailants, hags partnered with the Black Mother. Vareno shuts the door to the office and issues an order that nothing that has occurred within should ever be known by anyone outside it, at which point Nena supplies her current dilemma, that her diviner companion is mad and known to read her mind. Within moments the seasoned general dictates orders to his sergeant in preparation to deal with the problem that night, then leads Nena down to his love dungeon for a private debriefing.
While Nena removes the general’s plate mail, Vareno explains his extraordinary interest in her. He claims that she is at the center of a plot revolving around Irovetti with a cast including hags, trolls, barbarians and various fey creatures. Nena confides in him that she is aware of the latter part, but that she and Ursian had agreed never to speak of it since the night that she returned for fear of discovery. Again, her mind leaps to the vision of Berengar screaming in the forest, and sensing her unease, Vareno comforts her like a child. The touching moment persists for a few, then he asks her to lie with him, and she does, fulfilling Ursian’s prophecy that she would betray him when he was suffering. During the session Nena gets the impression that Vareno may actually be developing some manner of attachment to her. After, she considers telling the senior officer of the various visions the fey have gifted her with, but decides against it, questioning their relevance to the task at hand. Nena serves as a distraction to lure Ursian from his shelter, and Vareno’s pet spellcaster lowers his defenses for him and Ragnar to pelt him with sleep arrows from cover. Nena catches him before he falls, and they run to Leila’s chambers. The nymph expends quite a bit of effort to seduce the general, but to Nena’s shock, Vareno easily dismisses her, citing a preference for real content. Ursian shakes off the effect of the arrows and glares death eyebeams at Nena from behind a gag, before his eyes come to rest on Leila and he becomes pacified by extreme lust. Leila asks the party to turn their heads so that she can administer the treatment, which she warns is very intimate. Nena listens to the nymph use her mouth on her lover and begins beating her head against the wall, thinking how it is her fault that it has come to this, and she is crying profusely when Ursian approaches, and then lets loose a terrified scream. Leila screams “Kill it!” and Nena turns to find a living sapling coated in gore and corruption slithering along the floor in her direction. Ursian, reeling in pain gets off a lightning spell, charring the abomination, and Ragnar and Vareno step in to hack it to pieces short of reaching her place at the wall. Nena falls with Ursian, staring at the monster, which Leila informs her was attracted to her specifically with the intent of entering her and impregnating her with a monster. Shaken, but not broken, Nena exits with the remainder of the party to gather information on the object of Leila’s ire, returning to Rahkhaim’s alone. She and her pimp share an awkward moment of true sentiment before he uses magic to return her to the camp to make excuses for Ursian with his apprentice.
In the morning, Nena sets to work with extraordinary enthusiasm, determined not to let the events destroy her resolve to accomplish her goals. She returns to Rahkhaim’s and memorizes a list of names of persons he has found associated with the blank spot in his rival’s business, and the pimp and former prostitute renew their relations with a fervor only ill expressed grief can lend. With a lead on her main objective, Nena returns to the camp with the intention of fulfilling her obligation to Natasha’s uncle, and hires a former vineyard proprietor at a bargain cost to lure him into a false sense of comfort while she finds the time to advance a plot to steal the entire operation out from underneath the child abusing monster. In the process, she acquaints herself with Kievan Edros, who she learns is a ships engineer looking for honest work and in short order recruits him to repair and rebuild her master’s brothel. The scarred warrior makes overtures about sampling the wares, which Nena accepts, wishing to punish herself for her betrayal, making arrangements to meet him at Mica’s that evening. After a trip to the market to gather information on several implicated in Rahkhaim’s divinations, and setting herself up to appear as though she is looking to invest in local business, Nena sneaks to Ragnar’s flophouse to store a cache of gold should she need to leave the city quickly. The ranger wakes at her intrusion, and suggests comforting each other, which Nena is more than eager to indulge. While they recover he tells her that Vareno has commanded him to take a patrol to track the trolls in the area to wherever they have gotten for the winter, and that he should be gone for a number of weeks. Nena’s heart breaks, and she fails to maintain her cheerful composure while she processes the news, unable to banish the thoughts of how Julian said as much before he completely disappeared from her life. He assures her that he will not perish hunting trolls, and drags her into a comforting embrace. They spend several more hours together, and part under the illusion as though it were any other day and that they might see each other the next day.
Determined to spare the community at large from any fallout concerning her likely failures, Nena returns to the refugee camp to claim her belongings from Sayyida’s house. Upon arrival, she spies Ursian lecturing Natasha outside his shelter, enjoying some time in the inconstant autumn sun. She pauses to speak with him, and he sends Natasha away for some privacy. They speak about their plans, Ursian’s to remain and train Natasha in the city, and Nena’s to take up residence in the brothel, omitting the truth that she wishes to use Rahkhaim’s resources and books to study and better herself. Ursian assumes that she intends to become his mistress, and Nena does nothing to correct his assumption. He tells her that his analytical mind recognizes that they are through as a couple, but that his emotions are not so easily convinced. Nena deduces that he wishes her to deny her inclination to leave and stay with him, but she cannot trust that he will not resume his ambitions to assert his dominance.
Nena keeps her appointment with Kievan Edros, whose familiarity with Calistria’s church lends itself to a show of violence on his part to impress on her his willingness to employ it should she play him false. Enticed, Nena goads him to more, relishing the opportunity to experience physical pain comparable to that inflicted by Ursian’s screams of terror haunting her idle moments, and Ragnar’s impending loss. His strength leaves visible marks on her body, and his ferocity matches her dark mood, for a time. Reeling in the knowledge that she has only confirmed Ursian’s lowest opinion of her behavior, Nena staggers to Mica’s to seek Romanov’s advice. The elder oracle heals her and calls her an idiot, and on the majority of the hard countenance she maintains to mask her suffering, but tells her that he was waiting patiently for her to realize that her place was beside him. Nena, who has only ever wished for a place to belong, stays with him, and despite a fleeting fantasy of meeting Ragnar before he leaves the city, remains. In her dreams, she is invited to an assembly of the people that care for her; Jorunn, Julian, Stavros, Romanov and Ragnar sitting around a table sharing ale and stories, giving the impression that they are simply waiting for her to join them. She wakes and begins crying, confirming every flaw she saw reflected in Romanov’s eerily similar behavior and mannerism, and he comforts her for the duration, pleased that she is finally true to herself.
Part the Second : Session One, Scene One - A glimpse of Domestic Bliss
Having liberated Stavros Vescari and nearly a dozen others from slavers at significant cost to human life due to a misstep by Romanov, Nena, horrified at the outcome, punished herself by manipulating Kievan Edros into being violent with her by threatening to shirk his share of the loot...
Having achieved his release, Kievan glares at Nena, dissatisfied with her proposition. She lays back with a cruel smile. "Ah, the joys of a professional relationship," she sings, exhaling. "You will have your coin, master."
The elder rogue is unimpressed. "Given a potion or two, I might have done this alone. I should demand fifty percent, and you are giving me only ten?"
Nena falls back and begins casting prestidigitation to clean herself, and considers his position. "I do recall saying that we should avoid bloodshed. In that case, the operation was a failure. Fifty percent of failure is?"
"Go deprive the chubby idiot of his share for not being able to sneak past a bunch of fools even with magic!"
Nena nods. "You can be sure of that. Twenty five percent," she counters, choosing her words to present a compelling argument "and you are welcome to a share of the proceeds when we relaunch."
Kievan groans. "Yeah, sure. Just make sure we maintain a mutually beneficial relationship."
The negotiations between Kievan and Nena continue in sterile terms, and she convinces the smuggler to fence their ill begotten gains for fair coin, so long as she continues to utilize the service.
"Villains all," Nena sighs in Varisian, frowns and pulls her gown over her head. "Of course, Master Edros. I applaud your attention to detail," she states with false sweetness.
Kievan chuckles. "You are a shrewd woman. And a good duelist in terms of wit."
Nena dismisses herself, and returns to the rooms that she shares with Romanov. The oracle, whose inability to adhere to plans and react in a thoughtful much less tactical manner in the midst of battle is reclining on their couch, appearing quite pleased with himself. Nena asks him to draw a bath for her so that she might scrub the taint of blood and her relations with Kievan from her skin and hair. She unequips the ring of sustenance she borrowed from the Vescari cache, and Romanov argues with her about the timing of her decision, considering the enemies that they have made. Nena informs him that she is beginning to feel... less, than human, not requiring food, sleeping only a few hours a night, and the extra hours she has awake are often unwisely spent in the company of Rahkhaim or abasing herself about her many failures. The subject drifts to a discussion of her uncertain memories, and Romanov advances a theory that her memories were not altered at all, but that she was placed in a sort of stasis where time progressed without her knowledge.
"It hardly matters now," she dismisses, "whether I was [in the First World], or a guest of the [Black Mother's] cult, the result is the same."
"True, but knowledge would help," Romanov offers optimistically.
"If we were to procure it, yes it would, but so far as me living and accomplishing the tasks set before me, it matters very little. Truth be told, I am having a bit of a hard time managing both."
Romanov embraces Nena and sighs. "I can tell..."
The conversation brightens as the pair exit the bath and dry themselves. Nena is amused when Romanov voluntarily grooms his facial hair. He joins her on the couch and they speak briefly of their various rendezvous in veiled terms, Nena attempting to impress on him her preference without being overt and chasing him away. Romanov reminisces and draws a few startling conclusions about his preference for the home that he shares with her, and the role he has assumed as chief brewer and reserve champion of whores in Rahkhaim's brothel versus his experiences at the monastery. Nena invites him to take her to bed. That evening, Nena dreams of tearing a silken wall, and entering a world of dazzling lights and colors.
II: Session two, Scene One - Educating Romanov
Nena and Romanov go to market to procure meat, bread, cheese and fresh fruit for the host of former slaves the brothel is now entertaining. At the market, Nena admires the fruit, especially, and talks the produce merchants price down significantly, making her favorite fruit, apples, smell all the sweeter. She sings happily while she arranges the wares in an attractive way at the table in the kitchen she has paid for, inspiring the cooks her coin employs, and drawing in their visitors in as pleasant a way as possible, considering their former hosts and accommodations. Nena, an adolescent employed in two professions in which her image is of exceeding importance, is hyper aware of the effect her diet has on her body settles in with an apple. Romanov disapproves and tempts her to eat a slice of bread and cheese as well, sparing a lusty glance and a few choice words about his attraction to her features to convince her to eat. She obliges and invites him to spar with her later, so that she might train with various weapons, her underlying motive to test and drill his responses to spell casting during combat. Romanov agrees, recalling with misplaced amusement Kievan's tirade about his performance the previous night being more of a hindrance than an asset. Their easy conversation is an excellent cover for her to survey their guests as they arrive, in particular her interest in attracting Stavros to join them, as her part in his rescue was obscured by glamor. The river captain helps himself to a lavish breakfast and joins the couple at the table, and after a few moments Anica follows.
Reasoning that the two have little other than each other in the world, Nena furnishes Stavros with his ring of sustenance under the table. "Do not be in too much of a hurry to deny our hospitality," she suggests with a smile.
The captain smiles. "Oh yes, I have something you might be interested in if you plan to stay and oppose my captors."
"I," she repeats and spares an amused glance for Romanov, then gestures to the accommodations with a certain flicker in her eye. "Have you mistaken my throne for one of Cayden's kegs, Master?"
Stavros hums. "You may not be the brains, or the arms of this operation," he begins and looks at her breasts.
"I am it's fulcrum?"
Her elder one time partner smiles. "Heart. I see how they look at you."
Nena laughs heartily. "In polite company," she teases, but nods.
Nena finishes her breakfast, and makes arrangements to speak further on the subject in private, then drags Romanov to a sparing session. She practices with her whip, primarily, tripping and disarming techniques, with little improvement, and calls out the titles of her most successful spells and makes illusions of others to keep him on his toes as she dances around him. A ethereal glitterdust and grease spell fell Romanov, and as they recover from the training session he and Nena discuss the future. Nena expresses her concern that their newly acquired enemies will threaten the peace and recovering prosperity of her brothers and sisters in the brothel.
Romanov raises his hand upwards and seems to contemplate something, but just chuckles. "Is there ever not a risk? And is accepting slavers ever worth it?"
"You're asking the Calistrian prostitute who willingly surrenders herself to the manservant of the Lord of Pain?" she replies.
II: Sesson Three, Scene One: Assuming Leadership
Following the successful training session with Romanov, Nena, previously dismayed with the mockery of art shaming the very first theatre she performed in, takes it upon herself to gather her sisters together and offer them an alternative – erotic dance training supervised by a particularly experienced bard. There is more than a little initial hesitance, prostitutes in general being less inclined to upward mobility, to say the least of their inclination to react favorably to their new mistress taking charge in any meaningful way. Nena keeps her cool about her and performs a routine for them that outlines what she intends to teach, artistic over animal eroticism, and is astonished when she is informed that art for the sake of art will not pull coin in the house. Temper boiling, Nena snarls at the girls that they should be so lucky, considering the position many of their sisters find themselves in at their competitor’s house, implying that if they should like to be beaten by violent customers working for an employer who does not care a whit for their health, they are free to leave. The threat seems to take, and those willing to work with her respond quite well. Nena assures them that if they do well, she will speak with Rahkhaim about setting aside an hour of the theatres time to showcase their talents in hopes of drawing the curiosity of a broader client base. The Qadiran pimp agrees, thankful for her consideration of their overhead.
Captain Stavros and his first mate Anica visit with Nena in her apartments shortly before dinner. Nena returns the remainder of the items that she borrowed from his cache to him, including his magical cloak, and thanks him for their use. “Your foresight helped the effort [to recover you] quite a bit,” she adds.
“I have yet to play my hand. That was one of many places we have hidden gear in case we need to equip ourselves to take on those who would take our freedom away.”
“I was hoping that was the case,” she admits, and sits across from him.
They speak for a few moments about Ursian and his apprentice. Nena hopes that Stavros will take the boy wizard under his protection and offer the pair a disciplined home life, and most importantly, healthy social interaction. Stavros informs her that he will consider her request and decide after interviewing the boy himself, and if he comes to the conclusion that Ursian would do better on his own, that is how he will stay.
Stavros studies the raw area on his wrists where the chains were for a few moments. “I feel motivated to participate a little more, should my efforts be needed.”
Nena bites her upper lip and looks away, ashamed. “I suspect that is why my patron allowed me to participate in this plot,” she states flatly, conjuring a unflattering image of Horatio Vareno in her mind.
The river captain laughs. “I would never accuse a Calistrian of complete selflessness,” he jests and winks at her. “I know he has designs, as you do, and most everyone else.”
She smiles weakly, feeling singled out and insulted. “My designs do not extend further than improving on this foundation,” she pauses and gestures to the establishment, “and the lives and opportunities of my sisters.”
“Oh? If that is a lie, you pulled It off well.”
“So long as we understand each other,” she continues. “My position has not changed significantly, but I should think that my skills have improved vastly.”
“Such is the way of adventure in these lands. One grows stronger or perishes,” he takes a few moments to evaluate Nena. “I could tell.”
The assembly continues to speak in very vague terms about the future. Nena offers her assistance to Stavros, and engages Anica in conversation for the first time in days. She tries to extract from the ship’s mate what their former hostess, Sayyida has accomplished in her absence, and her disposition towards offering aide. Anica replies that she and the priestess have drifted apart, the initial attraction waning when Anica saw no end to the relief effort and wished to make a more meaningful effort. Nena remarks how much older the noble lady seems to her now, and wishes her well.
After the interview, Nena visits Rahkhaim in his office and they discuss how they will keep their essentially refugee charges in the immediate future. She informs him that she is doing her utmost to improve morale within and without, as is her duty, and he thanks her for her attention. Nena dismisses the likely prelude to manipulation with a giggle, and expresses her interest in visiting the shrine to Calistria installed within, provided that Rahkaim accompany her and that the exit remains open and unblocked, recalling her last visit with its near fatal conclusion. She delivers a particularly inspiring prayer asking for Calistria to lend her power and protection to their sisters, and Rahkhaim assists by offering three drops of blood to the cause. The pimp and madam engage in one of Calistria’s concerns before Her alter in tribute to the many blessings She has already bestowed upon the house, and part on vaguely friendly terms.
II: Session four, Scene One: Fast Forward
Three weeks pass with no significant events occurring. Nena spends a good part of her day boosting morale among the former slaves, and establishing a good working relationship with her sisters. Her daily activities include sparing with Romanov and training with the three girls who are interested in mobility.
Nena is also quite active in the community at large. Previously stricken with the idea of opening her own establishment, the time and money she has invested in Rahkhaim’s brothel is turning out to be wonderful learning experience and foundation to open negotiations with the merchants under her surveillance. She draws them into her confidence by throwing out hints that she has a proposal to open her own establishment, a fantasy at the time, she hopes to use their superior knowledge of the economic climate and customer base to make a reality. The pair fall under her spell, but she does not demand much more of them than their attention at any given moment, not wishing to play her hand prematurely.
After an appropriate amount of time has passed since the raid against the slavers, Nena enlists Romanov and Anica’s aide in trolling the dock district for more information about their operation. They learn that the sole survivor of the encounter has since disappeared, and that his brother operates a mill further downstream. Of the operators, however, there is very little too learn despite their combined efforts, but all sources seem to lead to a man called Blodgar, a Kellid mercenary that belonged to a band that focused on dragons that was recently disbanded. Nena infers that the figure is fairly powerful, and a good majority of his former team has likely been eaten, burned, or melted alive. Blodgar proves to be the go-to man for training urchins to be combatants, but, Nena reasons, as a warrior also extremely impressionable should the occasion call for magical manipulation.
Ever concerned with the fey influence over her, Nena visits Leila during this period to inform her about her steady, if slow progress on Leila’s particular area of concern. The nymph is pleased to entertain Nena, and offers new information that she has picked up, that there is a very evil person coming and going from the blank area, likely a divine caster of an evil god. Nena is slightly puzzled, and spends her precious little free time considering how a very evil person manages to slip in and out of Littletown society with little notice, given her perception of such figures includes them wearing the skulls of babies on their shoulder guards, but comes to no conclusion.
II: Session Five, Scene One: The Dance Commander
As a personal aside, I am grateful to be able to do one of my favorite NPCs justice. And yes, I have a particular fondness for Electric Six and applying my favorite songs to characters and scenes in my role playing.
At the close of the three week time warp, Nena finally gathers the courage for a clandestine rendezvous with her patron, Horatio Vareno. When she arrives, he is waiting with an open bottle of wine.
Nena chuckles softly, thinking on an earlier and much more benign invitation to share wine extended to her by brother Drey Yarnes of the Cathedral at Pitax, and blushes. “A bit above my price these days,” she refuses politely.
Horatio swirls his glass a few times and smiles. “The busy bee buzzes her way to the web weaver, tonight?”
Nena has been trained better than to sit without permission, so she stands beside the chair across from her patron. “Something like that,” she admits, aware of his uncanny ability to manipulate her as he chooses. “Perhaps I just wished to rest my wings a bit.”
The elder man chuckles. “Sit. Rest your weary feet, little bee.”
Despite her knowledge that his agents are tracking her every movement, Nena offers to make a report of her current standing. Horatio dismisses her, and drains his glass of wine, revealing his boredom with the formality of her approach. “You need something, I assume?” he prompts.
“What do you know of the one they call Blodgar?”
“Most of what I want to know?”
“Is he beyond my ability to… use?” she wonders, spending a few moments testing the correct verb with her lips and mouth before deciding.
Horatio laughs heartily, making Nena conscious of her inexperience and lack of at least a dozen more of persons like herself devoted to aiding her collection of reliable information from many different sources. She flushes and studies her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“Sure, I have no trouble thinking could manipulate him. But I am quite certain that he has… handlers.”
Nena sets her lips in a hard line and nods eventually. “Of course, it would have been too easy,” she sighs, somewhat dismayed that she cannot use the hulk to gain entrance to the dark brothel as she intended.
“I thought you liked a challenge?”
“I only wished to rest my wings for a few moments,” she replies. “You can appreciate that inspiring an oracle devoted to Cayden to study and rehearse even basic tactics is a drain on my patience.”
“Managing fools is indeed taxing,” Horatio states with a smile.
“Thank you,” Nena says politely, and rises, wishing to avoid the fallout that she has been dreading for three weeks.
“Where do you think that you are going?” he demands.
“Pray pardon me, all these weeks without, I had forgotten my place,” she apologizes, but makes no overtures to sit. She adopts a guise of false bravado. “Perhaps leaving me in the company of an idiot oracle and a Qadiri wizard was not the best method for maintaining my discipline?”
“I am rather amused. You summon me, ask me questions and then proceed to question my judgment.” He exhales hard. “Maybe you need a spanking?”
Nena giggles, keen to his ploy and engages him in the jest. “Oh please, Father, no!”
Horatio nods. “Very well, let us for a moment pretend your usefulness outweighs the burden you impose, and see if you can actually pull off your little scheme.”
“Pretend?” she repeats, the vestiges of amusement still clinging to her face despite her now heightened sense of alarm that she has indeed overplayed her limited hand with the general. “You believe I have forgotten who my keeper is?”
“You certainly do not ask me for permission when it is appropriate,” he replies, stands and approaches her, staring her hard in the eyes.
“Stavros Vescari was a particular project of mine. I could not risk that you would say no,” she answers honestly. In fact, recovering Stavros was a very high priority for her to atone for her selfishness and a milestone to shore up enough confidence to lend to her resolve to assume some control over her behavior and her life.
Horatio feigns mirth. “Ah, and that makes it okay, hmm?”
“I have already punished myself for that,” she informs him, thinking on her final exchange with Kievan.
“You are going to find yourself hard at work this winter. And if you cross me again, I will throw you to the scrags,” he threatens and gestures for her to resume her seat, his desire that she remain silent implied.
The general pours himself another glass of wine, and begins to enumerate the position her actions have placed him in. He was evaluating the best method to deal with the slavers as a whole when she acted and forced his hand, putting hundreds out of his reach for recovery. Nena acknowledges that she recognized all this almost immediately after, and it has been weighing heavily on her shoulders.
“That taste of bile and wrongness eventually goes away,” he assures her.
“Not if cultivated,” she replies without missing a beat.
Horatio looks thoughtful for a moment. “Flagellation was never my cup of tea.”
Nena narrows her eyes at the diversion, but lets it pass. Horatio drinks his wine and smiles. “Ever the little girl with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart,” he hums, his intent indecipherable.
Flirtation and intimidation is displaced for a while as Horatio outlines his plans for the winter. Within Littletown, he informs her, two cults are struggling to attain prominence, the cult of the Black Mother, and the cult of Ithuliyak, Mother of the Blacks. The cult of the Black Mother operates out of the dead space that Leila is concerned with, where he theorizes that there is a tear in reality that allows persons to pass from the prime material to the plane of shadow. Nena asks him to elaborate on the properties of the plane, her one experience with being on another plane still a very raw wound, and from his explanation gathers that the evil priest Leila senses spends the majority of his time in this alternate plane of existence. It is Horatio’s intention to play the cults against each other, and slaughter the remnants in an appropriately heroic show of force to gain the trust and love of the common folk.
“Is this my punishment for the slavers?” she wonders.
Horatio shakes his head. “No. Take what you can from your gatherings, and learn what you can. Then prepare to strike when I command you to. Punishment… will come soon.”
Nena exhales softly. “You should know that I know that bruises heal,” she says.
Horatio smiles. “Punishment will not be so simple as to be mere spankings.”
“But I don’t have any more heroes,” she replies, having experienced that the veil of illusion being torn from figures that she adores is far more brutal and lasting than physical pain.
Horatio laughs. “There is no such thing as a hero. The goodly gods have their fanatics give life and limb for ‘the cause’ only to find that there will always be evil to fight, and we are all pawns for someone higher than ourselves. You might save ten thousand slaves, and be known as a great liberator, but as long as there are people with power, someone will be stomped underfoot.”
Nena looks away. “When I was in the First World, they crafted a scenario from my desires, I think,” she shakes her head, uncertain of anything concerning that time. “An enchanted Berengar forced himself on me for the Hellfaun’s amusement.” Nena gathers her courage and looks into the general’s eyes. “What could you possibly do to me that is worse than I would do to myself?”
“I did not say that the punishment would be worse than anything you do to yourself. You are a teenage girl, that is about as sensitive and foolish as sentient life comes. As a wise and reflected man almost three times your age, I cannot fathom what goes on in your chaotic wasp-nest of a head.”
Nena diverts her attention, abashed. “This isn’t one of those situations that a child from a stable home would instantly recognize, is it?”
“Indeed,” he hums. “Now only remains the question: how are you going to thank me for my time and advice?”
Nena dances about the issue with the elder general for several minutes, offering him a cut of her potential income when her many plots come to fruition. He dismisses her jest, and makes advances of a carnal nature. They kiss, and she dances for him, not a strip tease as he appears to have expected, but a routine that she has nigh perfected in three weeks. He regards her completely impassively after, and she blushes and begins undressing sheepishly. He holds up a hand in a gesture to halt her. “Are you feeling well?”
“Of course,” she dismisses with a professional smile. “I’ve merely lost my pace.”
Horatio narrows his eyes. “Your idealism is going to kill you some day.”
“What a pretty compliment,” she replies, fixing the smile on her face. She steps over to him and places a hand on his shoulder and from her momentarily physically superior position looks into his eyes. “Would you prefer I act harder?”
The battle tested general offers an enigmatic smile. “The stage, the performer, the story… I seem to be served a drama that might for once entice me,” he muses.
The former prostitute up jumped to madam and her sole patron speak a while about their devotion to Calistria, and worship together. Nena discerns from their intimacy that the general is beginning to develop some sentiment towards her, or at least displays the trappings of a depth of emotion she previously thought him incapable of. More than that, and far more dangerous, there is evidence that he is infatuated, and desires to possess some part of her, if only for the moments they are together. As per usual, his skill and enthusiasm is nigh unrivaled among her partners.
“You do recognize that you are going to ruin me for all other mortal men, right?” she only half jests.
Horatio smiles. “Without a basis of understanding and appreciation, art is wasted.”
Nena giggles and they cuddle up together, Horatio smiling with an honest happiness she has yet to see in him.
“That’s far more… romantic than being heralded ‘the best lay in the north’,” she quotes Romanov.
Horatio chuckles. “Even I have my moments, between the skullduggery, manipulation, discipline and general seriousness.”
Nena smiles and taps her fingers on his chest, adding threats, assaults and blatant villainy.
He stokes her hair softly. “I am enjoying watching you grow as an artist and a lover. You have a potential that makes me a little excited.”
Their conversation continues, and at the height Nena experiences what is best described as awareness of an approach to an altered state of perception. In previous encounters with favors earned and given by Calistria, she has felt a droning in her mind like thousands of wasps buzzing. Horatio carries her to that place, and then immediately pulls her back. “I want this night to be ours,” he whispers as he holds her.
He invites her to spend the night with him, so that they can worship proper in the morning, and Nena accepts.
II: Session Six, Scene One: Learning to Fly
A most devout session of morning worship earns Calistria’s attention and Nena Her favor, enhancing her social skills for a period of three days. Whilst recovering Nena expresses her curiosity about being an accessory to the experience, which Horatio chuckles and dismisses as something incapable of being described with words. She is learning, he recognizes, and praises her efforts. Rising, Nena informs him that she is quite aware that she gave him the key to his effortless manipulation of her in their first rendezvous, when she revealed that she had daddy issues, and also gives a nod to his likely vastly superior system of spies such as herself to become more familiar with her than she would consciously allow. In contrast, her ability to see into the hearts of men and influence them through her words is exceedingly pedestrian, and coupled with her “unique extroverted lack of insight,” is hardly accurate. Nena uses her cantrip to clean up after their coupling, inured by four years of service to men to such demeaning tasks.
“There was a time when I preferred women to men, because they are loathsome and easier to distract,” she prompts, giving him the opportunity to demonstrate his character.
“Sometimes I stand and watch over the masses, and have a hard time accepting that I am supposedly the same as the feebleminded cattle. Men or women,” he replies, and chuckles.
Nena laughs and slides off the bed they shared. “And here was I pondering how I would stand Romanov’s company after this,” she teases and spares the general a furtive glance as she passes him.
Horatio watches her carefully, and prompts her with a few questions of his own, testing if the sleek persona she has slipped into in light of their new understanding of each other has the same flaws as her natural self, with the air of promoting her effort. He tells her that the jovial simpleton will be a good diversion until she is able to handle her role.
“If he keeps me from becoming half as hard as you and your mistress, I will consider this youthful indiscretion of mine a worthy investment.”
Horatio chuckles darkly. “Hard, am I?”
“I’ve told you before, it is easier for me to confuse you with a villain,” she replies, insinuating that she recognizes differently, but the knowledge is of no particular use.
The general and politico steps close to Nena and lifts her chin to look him in the eyes. “That childlike innocence is so sweet… and quite possibly what keeps me from becoming a ‘villain’ if I were to believe in such.”
So close, the general delivers a lecture on the difference between the heroes of epics and songs and history, claiming that what lies between is truth, the foundation for his army. Nena demures and recognizes that there will be more songs for the famed Silver General of Pitax then there will ever be for the child prostitute that took villains to her bed to earn money to pay laborers for repairs and feed struggling families in a particularly lean winter. Horatio laughs and reminds her not to underestimate the stupidity of commoners, and how easily they would be entertained by bawdy songs to encourage her.
“I will have to sing them myself, then, so the next generation of idiot girls won’t find my calling so romantic,” she says, momentarily recalling her heartache when she learned that she was being used to divert attention from greater evil in their previous dealings.
Horatio leans in and kisses her softly, with just enough passion to make it seem genuine before he breaks the contact and hums. “Romantic is fine… to a point.”
While they dress, Horatio asks about her plans for the day. Nena tells him that she plans to pray at the shrine and continue her training with Romanov and her pupils, and take the remainder to consider the best method to obtain what she desires from their enemies and lure them into a false sense of complicity before they strike. Horatio wonders if he has pushed Nena too hard to one extreme, and suggests that she spend some time with her more colorful and cheerful friends to soften her. Nena smiles and considers visiting with Ivaniro, the fey blooded magician and tailor, which arrests Horatio’s attention.
“The hat?” he confirms, and smiles when she responds in the affirmative. “I heard you made quite the impression on him… to the point where he actually gave you store credit?”
Nena giggles, thinking on the scene. “The oracle achieve a sufficient state of inebriation to be goaded into [carnal relations]. It was a glorious two minutes,” she reports. “I performed far better, in each of the offices he and his goddess are concerned with.”
Horatio rises and kisses Nena. “I could not be more proud,” he congratulates with a grin. “Do your utmost to keep his good graces. He is likely one of the more valuable assets this town has to offer. His connection to the fey and magical prowess have long been in my sights.”
“Oooh, being encouraged to [have carnal knowledge] where I shop,” she hisses and shivers with anticipation. “You have no cause to doubt my devotion to this particular cause, Sir,” she jests and grins.
He smiles and kisses her again. “How did I ever survive without you?”
“Cunning, and the ready availability of at least passably amusing partners supplied by our Lady to occupy your lonely hours?”
Horatio offers a weak smile and strokes Nena’s hair gently in a way she imagines a concerned parent might before he arrests himself and nods. “I shall pray for your success.”
The general sees her out of the warehouse, and Nena returns to Rahkhaim’s and the rooms that she shares with Romanov. The oracle is sprawled across their large bed, snoring, and reeking of alcohol among other strong scents. Nena slips into bed with him, and passes the hour he continues sleeping after with her attention diverted between a book she has borrowed from Rahkhaim and the stirrings of a plot to convince the merchants to invest in her business venture. When Romanov wakes, his eyes look a little red.
“Rough night?” she asks softly, putting the book aside.
“Err… kinda. I think.”
Nena shifts closer and takes his head into her lap, petting his hair in a familiar way. “What is the last thing you remember?”
“Testing out the new batch of stout. Apparently it was quite good. Then there was some singing, and then…” he trails, rubs his temples and groans. “I need my medicine...”
II: Session Seven, Scene One: Casual Dalliance
Nena fetches Romanov a mug of ale from the tap that he and Kievan installed in their bedroom, and brings it to the hung over oracle, who drains it in a pass and seems relieved after the passage of a few moments. He asks about her night, if any plots she has imagined with the elder general have come to fruition. Nena giggles and relates Vareno’s threats and distaste for their production, as it were, among a great many other subjects, which Romanov happily dismisses as part and parcel of the man’s sterling reputation.
“How now, one talented vocalist scorning another?” Nena sighs, drumming her fingers absently on the book she quitted. “And the common folk believe that bards are quick to defense,” she teases, smiling broadly.
Romanov smirks as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Would I be fit to be your lover if I showed no sign of jealousy?” he pauses and gives a sheepish smile. “The healthy one, not the plotting, maniacal one.”
Nena slips off the bed and embraces her favorite lover. “As though any man is really fit to be the lover of a prostitute,” she chides, and reaches to tickle a sensitive area on his side. “Now who is worrying too much?” she demands.
Romanov jumps and squirms in response to her assault. “I am not so much worried as I am interested, I guess. He is one of the most powerful men in the region, and his attitude towards us may make or break our current comforts.”
“Ah, I see,” she sings and slides her hand across his bare stomach. “You’re questioning my ability to maintain the favor of such a monolith, then?” She draws her nails across his hip and nips at his flank playfully.
Romanov yelps and regards Nena from under his arm. “There is no winning this one, huh?”
Nena giggles and kisses his side. “I am in a playful mood,” she dismisses. “I thought I might visit my dear fiend the tailor to discuss my options for the winter proper. When the construction is finished, I will have more than a little time on my hands,” she continues, insinuating that Vareno has grounded her.
Romanov inquires if she would like him to accompany her on the outing, and makes and obvious advance to ensure that she is fully satisfied before meeting yet another partner. Nena agrees and indulges Romanov, remarking that it is pleasant to be with a man when there is no position to be considered before or after. They tease each other about his merit as an artist with none too clever euphemisms for his endowment, and stumble into bed. His eagerness in consideration of Nena’s legitimate reasons to reduce the amount of time she spends abed given the number of tasks that require her attention in the proceeding weeks make the trip a short one, but they cuddle together after, sharing genuine warmth and affection.
“Sorry… I guess my body is a little more honest about what even a couple of days of absence does to me,” he apologizes.
Nena squirms to fit into the stocky curve of his body, and pulls his heavy arms around her waist and hips. “A rapist once told me my charms were insufficient to keep anyone interested for long,” she recalls her last conversation with Leonardo Auditore. “It was easily one of the most hurtful things someone has ever said to me. But then, that was his specialty, too.”
“That rapist should be ashamed. Not only is he a rapist, but a liar as well,” Romanov chuckles.
“Also a favored scion of Calistria.”
Romanov embraces her tightly and sighs, but does not speak. They have argued this point before. Nena’s reluctance to completely accept Calistria’s favor in light of the unspeakable acts of evil her brethren perpetrate weighs heavily on her on most every occasion. Romanov believes that it is her duty to give unto Calistria what she is most concerned with to maintain her good standing, and her health, as she espouses many of Calistria’s ideals.
“He said he was proud of me,” she reveals after a few moments of playful, if juvenile affection to lighten the oppressive mood.
“Strange word for a Calistrian general to use,” Romanov chuckles. “I guess this means that we are in the good graces, still?”
Nena rests her chin on Romanov’s arm and lies still for a few moments. “Yes. Maybe,” she corrects almost immediately. “It is a tad bit… complicated.”
Romanov fondles her and kisses her softly. “I’ll trust your judgment. Mine is not known to be better,” he jests.
On wild impulse, Nena turns in her lover’s arms and looks him in the eyes. At the beginning of their relationship, she was sure that it was doomed to failure within days, if not at the end of a week for his flighty nature and apparently indiscriminate appetite for women, and thus has never found the occasion or courage to allow herself to become attached. “Do you have family somewhere?” she asks suddenly.
Romanov’s face becomes hard. “Living, no.”
Nena frowns. “I am sorry. I…” she sighs desperately. “I never thought that I would miss the council of the elder priest of Erastil.”
Romanov cradles Nena’s head to his chest and sighs. “I have you now, you and this rag tag brothel that is trying to earn a not too dishonest living.”
Nena nods and kisses Romanov’s heart softly. “I could use an external censor to piece together the puzzle that is my elder patron,” she sighs.
“How are you failing?”
“It’s a bit of a strange relationship. He is old enough to have sired me, if my mother had had any sort of political significance to warrant his attentions,” she laughs derisively. “When we’re not engaged in coitus, I am desperately seeking his approval for the slightest thing. It is likely exceedingly unhealthy.”
Romanov shrugs. “He is known in kingdoms two countries away for his leadership and ability to manipulate. You should be flattered that you even question it now,” he chuckles.
The lovers entertain each other a second time, Nena casually mentioning that she would like to get leaded mirrors to place around their bed so that she can view the proceedings from a different perspective, but the magical significance is lost to Romanov.
II: Sessions Nine, Ten and Eleven, Scene One: Supply & Demand pts i, ii & iii
Nena and Romanov eat, and then train together, resuming routine. Romanov displays a particular zeal for the activity this morning, closing into Nena’s comfort zone and landing several blows for non lethal damage. Nena quickly darts away with an impressive flip and lands beside Kievan, who has intruded to inform her that the construction of the newest wing of the house is nearly complete, save for cosmetic touches. Nena is beside herself with joy at the prospect of riding herself of the constant reminder of her indiscretion with the greedy smuggler, and asks what manner of gift she can extend to his apprentices to thank them for their expedience. Kievan suggests that the girls offer a special service, off the books as it were. Swallowing back her extreme distaste, Nena agrees to discuss his proposition with her sisters over dinner. Kievan and Romanov exchange words in their continuing struggle to secure Nena’s affections. Kievan highlights Romanov’s lack of tactics and poor swordsmanship, while Romanov retorts that without weapons, Kievan is essentially useless. Nena, growing bored with the excess of testosterone in the large training room captures both men in the spell of her song, silencing them, and ponders how neither of them could outwit a pretty young girl. She asks Romanov to assist her for a proper bath before stepping out, and as they exit Kievan gets the last word in, calling Romanov a hairy handmaiden.
Nena dresses in her finest dress that morning, after getting Romanov to assist her with lacing her corset tightly. Outside they are greeted by a fresh crop of snow, the first of the year to accumulate on the ground and Nena recognizes that it is going to be more difficult to sneak out to Ragnar’s secret hold to collect messages from him very soon. In Ivaniro’s shop window he has displayed several new outfits, which Nena admires despite the cold, before entering proper. Within a portly matron is scoffing at the tailor’s elven influenced designs, and instructs her hand maiden to find something suitable for a real woman. Nena has to remove her hands from some of the merchandise before she throws it at the infuriating creature, and quickly grabs something that catches her eye and pulls Romanov towards the changing rooms. Effectively trapped in her corset, the Vudran inspired piece does not fit well, to her anticipated dismay, and she attempts to engage the customer in conversation meant to assist Ivaniro’s sale, but the woman takes her efforts the wrong way and becomes increasingly rude. The already tense situation is further aggravated by Ivaniro’s clear preference for Nena and sudden and complete ignorance of his current customer.
The customer bristles and fumes. “How rude! I need a new dress to impress the king at the winter solstice ball!”
Ivaniro gives her a dismissive wave. “I am merely a tailor. All my talents and magic combined could not make that happen. Now, begone. Beauty has entered my shop, and your presence is souring our reunion.”
“This trollop?” the woman shrieks and points at Nena.
“Madame,” Nena corrects sharply, staring down the portly matron. “I am exceptional in everything I do. And you, lady, could not impress the Burgundy court if you arrived wearing the heads of our enemies.”
“I am vindicated, and even if I could make a large woman pretty, even I could do nothing to conceal inner ugliness.”
The irate customer continues to spit vitrol before she leaves, but does not so much as glare in Nena’s direction, thoroughly demoralized. Nena offers to counter any efforts the woman sink to, including slander of Ivaniro to maintain his comfort, for which the tailor is appreciative, but he assures her that he can handle himself. Delighted to see her again, Ivaniro goads Nena into trying on several of his new acquisitions from his recent trip into Pitax. Nena enjoys the attention, and uses the opportunity to ask him over to the brothel to witness the production that she is considering for the occasion of their grand reopening and give his professional opinion what manner of costume will best suit the display. Ivaniro agrees, provided that the girls he is designing for are not hideous which Nena now recognizes refers to their personality as well. It is also understood and arranged that he should like to share intimacy with her and Romanov again, as well.
Nena and Romanov return to Rahkhaims in time for supper, where Nena advances the idea of treating the builders who have given them a kitchen as well as vast improvements in several other arenas a special treat on completion. Her sisters are reluctant to agree, obviously more concerned about the coin soon to be withheld from their purses than the food that Nena and Rahkhaim are each struggling to keep in their bellies. Irritated by their greed and selfishness, Nena utilizes her quick wit to put the girls in their place, announcing that she will also take part in the production that she envisions, and use her superior skills to remind each of them of their place in the hierarchy. Her ire spills into their training session, and is only vaguely abated by the time she gets to spend with Ivaniro. Only vaguely, of course, because instead of simply enjoying the company of a friend and skilled sexual partner, Vareno’s encouragement of the relationship has altered her perspective of its importance. Before, Nena was glad to have met an artist and craftsman who encouraged her artistic expression, and hoped that their relationship would bring her to know the joys of performance for the sake of art, and now…
Apprehension about how to proceed with their friendship does not hamper Nena’s ability to play the obliging hostess. As Ivaniro requested, a bath is drawn and she and Romanov join him. Nena pours three glasses of wine to set the mood, and Romanov accepts begrudgingly, not quite so comfortable with the thought of indulging with Ivaniro near as he is in Nena’s company. Together, however, the unlikely pair conspire and deliver a wholly satisfying experience over the course of the evening, and Ivaniro is welcomed to share their bed a second time.
II: Session Twelve, Scene One: Invitation to Court
Lest you begin to think, what was that silly, slutty bard thinking, completely ignoring the information about Irovetti’s Winter Solstice Ball in the previous session?
Shortly after Ivaniro departs in the morning, a brothel guard delivers a smooth envelope bearing the wax seal of the Burgundy throne to Nena and Romanov’s suite. Nena carries the parcel to their table, sets it down and studies it for a few moments in silence.
Romanov blinks a few times before he looks to Nena. “Do you know anyone in the court?” he asks.
“Know?” she repeats, and shakes her head. “Not directly. By reputation…” she trails, and shivers.
“Well, I guess all that is left is opening it,” he offers, and shrugs. “Unless you want someone to check it for traps.”
Nena giggles, finding the notion absurd. “Poisoned ink? Or an exceedingly clever lightning bolt?”
“I will heal you if fire and brimstone come out.”
“And if it is poison?” she wonders.
Romanov casts detect poison, and shakes his head. Nena uses the blade of a dagger to carefully separate the waxen seal from the paper without destroying the emblem. Inside there is a high quality card printed with a moon cradled by falling snow, and in the foreground, a fantasy palace in gold and burgundy.
By the grace of his most magnificent majesty and unifier of all things artistic, the glorious King Castruccio Irovetti, you are hereby invited to the event of the century: The Royal Winter Solstice Ball, held in honor of the newly appointed lords of Pitax. Your invitation is at the request of one Lord Leonardo Auditore.
“Gods dammit!” Nena shrieks and throws the card away to remove the object from her compulsion to tear it to pieces.
Romanov raises an eyebrow. “Magical trap with the Rage spell?” Nena seethes. “What?” he demands.
“Garbage has been elevated to the honor of Lord,” she informs him with no small amount of distaste evident in her voice. “And he deigns to invite me to Pitax.”
“This surprises you?”
“It infuriates me!” she retorts, voice rising in octave and volume and she stands and begins pacing. “Had I thought to dispose of him then…” her mind races.
Romanov nods and scratches the back of his head. “So… you going?”
Nena ceases pacing and studies her partner for a few moments. “As though I am an island,” she dismisses rapidly. “Lest you forget, I am thrice employed,” she continues automatically, forgetting that she has yet to fully disclose each of her projects to the man who regularly shares her bed.
“Do you expect to be quite as busy when winter proper comes?”
Nena retrieves the invitation and reads it over again, several times, then lays it back down on the table and resumes her seat on the couch. “Lord Leonardo Auditore, hmm?” she hums, calming enough to consider the approach from several different perspectives. She leans her head against the back of the couch and stares up at the ceiling. “No call to die, I should not think…”
After a minute of silence, she shakes her head and appears to have abandoned the train of thought. She inhales deeply and rights herself, and smiles at Romanov. “Whatever his purpose, for the time being, my place is here.”
Romanov nods. “Very well. I would be too curious to ignore it fully, though.”
“Curious… is not the word,” Nena replies and leans against him.
He embraces her and ruffles her hair like a child. “At least they did not send someone with a dagger for your back,” he offers, proving his good nature and lack of talent for recognizing political maneuvering.
“Yet,” Nena corrects and pulls his beefy arms around her.
“Indeed. I guess they want to see if they can control you somehow.”
“If that were true, they might have used other names,” she replies thinking of Julian, and oddly, of the cleric Miro. “It was not uncommon knowledge that I found that particular man repugnant.”
“Maybe they want you to know that they are aware of you, and to keep you away, then?”
Nena giggles and licks her lower lip, cheering significantly with Romanov’s absurd notion of being accounted any manner of threat to the throne. “Then they might not have used someone known to follow Calistria.”
Romanov nods. “Maybe just plain spite, then. Rub his elevation in your face?”
“As though he earned it,” she dismisses, shifts to get even closer to her lover and kisses him, aroused by the challenge.
“What if we hold our own function right here in Littletown?” Romanov suggests, returning her advances with a broad smile. “For the goodly folk that fight for a cause, to return the sentiment?”
Nena bites her lip to quell derisive laughter. “Silly,” she hums and taps his lips. “You and I party several times a week, already.”
Romanov chuckles. “Yes, but now we could dress up.”
“We can spend the night at Ivaniro’s shop?” she counters.
Politics, clearly not Romanov’s strong suite, is banished by his eager response to Nena’s obvious advances. Strangely, though she has elected to keep Romanov ignorant of the bulk of her employment, (she assures herself that she is in compliance with Vareno’s expressed orders) she finds Romanov’s company the most comforting. If she were any thing other than what she is, a spy, a deviant and a trickster, she might be able to give it up to remain beside him, but so far as her mission and their quest is concerned, he is really the absolute worst partner. Even then… he just might be the one she requires the most.
II: Sessions Thirteen, Fourteen and Fifteen: Social Mobility pts. I, ii & iii
The excitement of the morning is put aside and Nena settles in to her routine, sparing with Romanov, attending her various duties within the brothel, and training with her more artistic sisters well in advance of supper and the marked nocturnal increase of eager clients. Nena slips out of the brothel shortly before supper, capitalizing on the last few minutes of clear weather to sneak down to Ragnar’s secret hold in anticipation of any word from the traveling ranger. Standing sentry on the roof is a hawk that in consideration of her invitation to the city brings to mind Sasha, the enchanter Akkiya’s familiar, but this animal merely identifies her, then drops a small scroll at her feet before flying away.
“Beware the dragon cult,” the scroll reads. “Returning soon. Two weeks tops. Do not leave town.”
What felicity! Nena reflects, her eyes darting nervously in every direction for assassins. Such a cordial missive of love from my partner, and now confirmed to be threatened by three separate factions!
After a few moments of hesitation, Nena starts back to the brothel. On the way she encounters an unlikely sight, a pair of extremely heavily armored and armed men wearing heavy fur cloaks flanking a grave man of Cheliaxian descent wearing a breastplate and sporting a bastard sword. The nobleman wears a ring with an emblem belonging to the Xapiri merchant clan. Nena recognizes it immediately. The Xapiri clan do legitimate business, but are aggressive in their dealings and while successful, common folk have few kind words for them. She watches as the citizens avoid the ominous trio’s progress, and evaluates her appearance, specifically her lack of arms, before she steps into it, and passes on the left side. The nobleman notices, and orders his entourage to stop, then approaches her.
“A moment, milady. My name is Aerodus Xapiri. I would like to have words regarding a mutually beneficial business proposal.”
Nena raises an eyebrow, but smiles. “Lady?” she demures. “And mutually beneficial?” She giggles. “Pray tell, Master.”
A faint sign of amusement creases Aerodus’s professional mask. “Abadar did not create cities so one would stand out in the frozen streets to converse at length. Might I offer to buy you a meal as a token of good will?”
Nena’s smile broadens. “I have a voracious appetite,” she teases, and agrees. “Please.”
And so Nena, previously frightened by the presence of one Hellknight in the city finds herself flanked by a pair on their progress to the Three Truffles tavern, the best establishment in town. After a look at Aerodus’s ring, the host seems to have no trouble with Nena’s modest and unkempt attire. The pair are lead to a secluded table where Aerodus tries and fails to order two popular imported wines and finally defers to Nena’s superior knowledge of what is available locally. Nena looks over the menu and with stunning confidence places an order for the entire meal.
Aerodus studies Nena for a time, as if trying to see past a disguise, finding her more impressive than what he expected Littletown could offer. “I rarely use the word ‘impressed,’ but you are indeed not average,” he offers curtly.
“I am learning that it is not necessarily beneficial to allow men to take the lead,” she hums in response, and sits back to make a more thorough study of him as well.
“Those strong of character rarely find the harness of a mule to be comfortable,” he agrees.
Nena and Aerodus exchange business orientated conversation conspicuously devoid of meaning while they wait on the service, testing each other’s wit and responses to particular strands of dialog. The wine arrives and Nena, only thrice in the history of the campaign known to overindulge in substances that stunt her already limited judgment, tastes it and puts it aside. Aerodus hands Nena a scroll and extends to her an offer of employment as his field agent, a position of greater prestige than her uncertain status with General Vareno, and implied opportunities for travel and advancement. Nena reports that she is quite happily employed at present, and has no desire to leave her affairs unsettled.
“Of course. I would not presume to call you away from your previous agreements. That quality was key in my decision to approach you.”
“My decided lack of a flighty nature, hmm?” she hums and smiles.
“Integrity,” Aerodus corrects. “It is a rare and precious gem that I know to fully appreciate.”
“Now I know you are teasing me.”
“Yet a drive and presence that is not easily tempered,” he admits.
Aerodus quickly changes the subject to discuss the scroll in Nena’s possession, which she has not opened. The contract, he tells her, is meant to provide some relief for the daily expenditures at the brothel, and the hidden text within is implied and understood immediately. Nena informs Aerodus that she has no prior arrangements for the evening, and is free to discuss his proposal at length.
“Your wings grow stronger with every attempt to break them, I understand,” he suddenly states.
Nena’s eyes widen.
Aerodus’s chest moves with a silent chuckle. “Your history is not unknown to me. My one time mentor seems to favor his newest disciple.”
Nena purses her lips and blushes slightly. “I thought it was my failures that amused.”
“A perfect woman is like my blade. Beautiful, deadly, and tempered with fire and hammer blows,” he replies.
Dinner arrives and conversation shifts to speaking of more pleasant and less business related dealings. Nena asks the Chelaxian Aerodus if he has visited its famous opera houses, as both of the persons she has known who have seen the country have not been free to sample the culture. Her interest is not strictly professional, she wishes to hear more about bards who are renown for their talented public performances than their uncanny ability to generate scandalous affairs. Nena thanks him for his opinion, and calls him Master, as is her way.
“Master, hmm? I was not looking for a servant nor a student. I have enough of those. I need you to elevate yourself to something more before I can have you stand beside me in our efforts.”
“Force of habit,” Nena apologizes. “There are very few persons with whom I am casual. Titles spring to mind faster than names.”
“The shield of a novice. I would have you discard it and wield the air of a master manipulator,” he replies and smiles softly, implying that he has seen through her guise of etiquette and it may work on others more inclined to aggrandize themselves, but not him.
Nena chuckles. “My lessons are going very slowly. I believe I divert my mentor’s attentions too much.”
Aerodus studies Nena’s form with no hint of desire, simply evaluating her features. “I am impressed. Even the silver serpent seems to have problems keeping his composure with you, it seems.”
“Many men do,” she replies casually. “And if not, I am quick to find a way to achieve that end. If it suits me.”
His eyes betray some mirth. “You would likely do well in Cheliax.”
“Any time spent there would certainly provide a harsh lesson in restraint,” Nena admits.
The conversation turns for the second time to the subject of the divine. Earlier, Nena had made a comment about settling with a cleric of Torag that sparked a familiar response in Aerodus, the complete derision for divine casters Ursian frequently displayed. Despite her very strong suspicions to the contrary, Nena posits that she is a favored scion of Calistria, a claim that Aerodus immediately discounts. He drains his glass of wine and nods towards the exit, indicating his desire that they should resume the conversation in private. The Hellknights rejoin the pair at the door, and accompany them to the Gilded Wheel Inn, in the merchant quarter, where Aerodus is received as though he were visiting royalty, treatment which extends to his guest, as well. Aerodus dismisses his entourage and leads Nena to his suite, which is several flavors of extravagant. He offers the sum of ten thousand gold if she succeeds in impressing him in the course of her interview. Nena accepts reluctantly, and takes a comfortable seat to review the terms of the contract he provided.
On the surface, the contract is as he said in the restaurant, an offer for her to purchase everyday commodities required at the brothel at an extreme discount, so extreme it appears that his supplier will not be making a profit on the deal. With extensive study, and a fairly high difficulty check, Nena unravels the cypher. The first syllable of every word translated into Kelesh, and again into Elven provide a much different text. Aerodus wishes Nena to insert herself in Pitax under the banner of House Cattanei, of which his merchant company has obtained a large share, and actively work to restore trade and preserve culture, specifically to charm Headmistress Gitaren of the Academy of Fine Arts and a member of Irovetti’s council to make the trade family of Xapiri a viable contender for House status. Nena flushes and taps certain portions of the scroll with her fingertips.
“I assume you have questions,” Aerodus prompts.
“Are you implying that you will answer them?”
Aerodus nods. “To the best of my ability. If you find them inadequate…” he smiles, implying that her readiness to believe anything he says is also part of his evaluation.
“Oh, I am almost certain that I will. And now am afraid that I will not impress if I ask the wrong questions. But… I will mention that the goal state seems a bit… altruistic? I assume that it was crafted for me, specifically. By a fairly competent hand, I may say, as it includes two figures known not to be friendly towards me.”
“Altruism it is not. My sister has little desire to preserve the arts. That is my pet project, as it is, being thoroughly sickened by witnessing what passes as art in that place now.”
“The master of the Cattanei called your agents vipers, as I recall,” Nena advances with a smile.
“Rightly so,” he answers. “I am sure one in your position is already well aware that there is no such thing as a homogenous political, mercantile or even familiar entity.”
Nena drums her fingers on her tummy and ponders her position. To accomplish this task, she tells Aerodus, will require a great deal of effort to effectively create a persona capable of fooling the master of the Cattanei and enticing the Headmistress. She offers to discard Romanov, reasoning that his particular appetites and inability to check himself in situations which demand cool reflection before immediate action would be a bigger burden than an asset in the city. Aerodus expresses his concern that she not completely abandon her current party, as his investment in her is substantial, and the task he has set in front of her of primary importance. To that end, he extends an offer to furnish her with magical items at a discount.
“Something about that smile,” she hums, apprehensive. “Would I be a bigger fool to refuse or accept?”
Aerodus chuckles. “Impress upon me the logic of funding you further, and you might well find yourself leaving with more.”
“You must first understand that accepting coin from one such as yourself, whom I suspect to be affiliated with persons whose goals are likely unwholesome is something that I did not believe myself capable of, until this evening,” Nena begins.
“Such as myself,” Aerodus interrupts, barely containing a laugh.
“But, as your stated goal is touching upon something that I feel passionately about, and funds a return to the city,” she continues, and allows that thought to trail. “I do not wish to be further indebted to a cause I do not understand, and am unlikely to question. I do not trust my partner, leaving only one person capable of crafting items for me, who I in my ignorance have broken and can no longer associate with.”
“Some people are not meant to function together,” Aerodus dismisses. “Such is human nature. But you should hold on to whatever made you realize that dealing with ‘someone like me’ would be fruitful. Prejudice is a veil that obscures the truth, and more importantly, the possibilities.”
Their dialog continues as Nena ferrets out and places the final touches on the cool professional persona she is adopting to please Aerodus, tacitly agreeing with his arguments because she cannot afford to lose his patronage when he is paving the way for her return to Pitax, and in much better fare than she could even contemplate being able to afford on her own given the extensive hand she has played in Littletown. She reveals that impeding his progress in the street was her method of testing her irrational fears, of the Hellknights, in particular and conquering them so that she might improve herself. Aerodus compliments her calculation of the risk involved, and shrugs out of his shirt, revealing a toned body decorated with scars.
Nena raises an eyebrow. “Is this your play to divert my attention from the conversation?” she wonders.
“Divert?” he repeats and smiles. “Surely you are able to carry two thoughts at once, no?”
“More, actually. Assuming that you do not also shed your pants; then it may become slightly difficult,” she teases.
“I do believe that it is your turn, first,” he replies.
Nena stages a very weak tease where she removes her boots and stockings, pulling up her skirt over her knees, then dangling her legs over the side of the chair she inhabits. Aerodus allows a faint sign of the stirring of lust, but Nena immediately recognizes that it is a lie meant to test her abilities. She giggles, content in the knowledge that her efforts were juvenile at best, having absolutely not interest in engaging in any form of romantic relationship with Aerodus, who she suspects is a greater threat to values and goals than Vareno might ever pose.
Since he is answering questions, Nena takes the opportunity to ask some of personal interest to her. She ask indirectly if he knows who is responsible for her invitation to the Winter Solstice Ball, and under what persona she should attend. Aerodus claims responsibility for the arrangement, and suggests that it is a rather pedestrian task to create a forgery that would better suit her task. It occurs to her that the Chelaxians that Ursian reported appearing shortly after her disappearance might also be his associates. He does not answer, but that is a clue in and of itself that it is highly likely that they were.
“It was my captor’s stated intention that I should seduce and distract the king,” Nena informs him, implying that she is quite aware that every faction has the same idea, also wondering if it is his intention that she should.
Aerodus’s eyes brighten when he understands that she recognizes this element of the political climate in the city. “You will soon enough see that the king is little more than a catalyst of the times. Like storms in their seasons, rulers come and go in these lands.” He chuckles softly. “In the end, you will see that little more than a chair, and that power is as shifting as the weather.”
Nena giggles, feeling a little more at ease. “I understood that in the wilds.”
“But do you truly?” He rests his cheek on his fist. “Brevoy is plotting to regain these lands, and will likely strike in a few years. Something bigger than Pitax is stirring from all directions, and we get front seat tickets. After the dust settles, this land will be no more, I suspect.”
“I may have spent three weeks in the First World. I am well aware of how mutable this reality is compared to such powerful creatures.”
Aerodus’s eyes narrow slightly, and he remains quiet, but his demeanor betrays an epiphany. Nena advances her theory that the contract, which explicitly mentions the brothel, also serves as incentive to maintain her loyalty to the cause, essentially holding her sisters hostage in exchange for her services. Aerodus denies the charge, claiming that there are few lives he would not extinguish if he were so inclined, but that he is not so petty to punish others for her indiscretions.
“There is a reason common folk are told to fear goblins and trolls. And that is that there are dragons in human guise walking amongst them.”
Nena shivers, intimidated by him. “It terrified me when Vareno revealed himself to be a man. But, this is my trial,” she attempts to smile and appear relaxed in his presence again.
“A man? As opposed to?”
“An illusion,” she replies, and chuckles nervously.
Aerodus laughs. “Oh, but he is. As am I, as are you.
“I can have people slain in Mwangi tonight if it were my desire. But in the end, everything I am, my power, my influence, it will all disappear, and by the turn of the century, I will be a but a footnote in a tome, and come the turn of the millennia, I might as well never have existed. Vareno might be longer, or shorter. Same with you.“
“Mortality does not frighten me so much as it used to,” Nena hums.
Aerodus smiles. “I expected you to ask ‘why’.”
“I deserve that.”
“I assume you are curious as to my motivations. At least in passing?”
“By my very nature, yes. But unless I mistook you, you hadn’t arranged this meeting to aggrandize yourself.
“Besides which, I prefer a bit of mystery to encourage the use of my mental faculties, especially now as I am absolutely thrown for a loop how to accomplish my independent goals without interfering with the host,” Nena admits.
“Mystery…” Aerodus smiles. “I shall withhold a theory that might change everything then.”
Nena laughs with genuine amusement. “Ruthless tease.”
“Are you able to handle the truth?” he asks.
“If you thought that I was unable to, would you have approached me at all?”
Aerodus gestures to the contract. “Then sign.”
Nena signs her professional name to the contract, and Aerodus pulls out another scroll. “Be ready,” he warns.
Unable to recognize the spell, Nena tenses, uncertain what to expect. All of her items go inert, and the “favors” she received from “Calistria” disappear. A third, alien presence becomes apparent in the room, and almost immediately Nena’s senses are overwhelmed by it. The scent of exotic musk permeates everything, the sound of a humming voice impossibly beautiful, a chill in the air that makes every hair stand on end and a taste of potent dark wine in her mouth as a tall figure of charismatic perfection makes itself known. Every fiber of her being tells her that she cannot hope to be anything but prey to the figure, yet every sense yearns for him.
Aerodus kneels and bows his head to the figure. “Forgive my rude summons, Count.”
Nena is transfixed in place, overwhelmed by the stimuli, and she infers the figure is fey from previous encounters with the creatures. He stretches, covering the room in darkness, his silhouette is only contours and gives an exaggerated yawn. “The ruse is up, huh?” his voice echoes.
“This is Count Ranalc, or at least a fragment of his will,” Aerodus informs her from somewhere without.
Nena does not recognize the name, or any reference to the creature before her. “I… see,” she manages, completely lost, “Sir,” she adds after a pause, remembering her manners.
“As my self-appointed herald has provided m name, I assume you wonder what I am doing here?” Ranalc hums.
“Forgive my impertinence, but I have a few suspicions,” Nena answers, having suspected for several days that the origin of the favors she earned was not divine in origin.
Ranalc gives a ripple of mirth, making the darkness waver with his chuckle. “I am Calistria, as far as you are concerned,” he confirms. “I am the power you draw upon when you believe that you are communing with her. I found some cultists using shadow travel past my domain, and replaced their trinket, to have some fun on the prime.”
“I am aware now, Sir,” she replies, and begins crying. The relief that she is not, in fact, indebted to the Savored Sting is palpable, supplanting her terror of the creature just in front of her for one wild moment.
Ranalc chuckles. “Do you enjoy me inside you?”
“You question your own power?” she wonders, giggles and wipes indecorously at the moisture leaking from her eyes. “Yes, sir, very much.”
Ranalc sweeps a cloak of darkness around Nena, numbing her with cold where it touches. “Now, I intend to keep having fun with you, my pretty little bird.”
Nena shivers on reflex, aware that fey ideas of fun could just as easily mean her death. Aerodus groans in the darkness, and she barely makes out his frozen form, barely conscious despite severe frost. “C-c-c-count, I…” he shivers, “I w-w-wish t-t-t-“
Ranalc cuts him off and freezes his mouth shut. “How droll. I know you are looking for me, exile.” He pulls Nena close, and parts of her body merge with his dark form. She moans piteously, and he continues addressing Aerodus. “Had you managed to bed her first, I might have been inclined to help you. But without even that much of an offering, I see little point in even acknowledging your existence.” He looks at Nena finally and smiles maliciously. “Do you enjoy it?”
Nena allows a faint nod, uncertain what his meaning is, but assuming power.
Ranalc laughs. “Then I shall give it to you. And when I take it away, I shall relish your anguish.” He conjures a maul of obsidian, and pushes Nena away as he forces it into her grasp. “Crush him. Betray him. Discard your humanity for me.” He leans in and smirks. “Or kiss him, heal him, and embrace him. I do not care either way. I just wished to be entertained, one way or another, until the time comes for interesting things to happen.”
“What a puzzle,” Nena hums, and considers the maul. “As either choice will ultimately displease you, or be forgotten within a moment.”
She raises the maul and crushes Aerodus.
“Oh, what a waste,” Ranalc laughs. “I am amused by chaos. Because I am chaos. I cared not a whit if he lived or died. And now, you lost a potential ally. What fun.” Ranalc smiles and makes the shattered pieces of Aerodus whirl up into a tiny tornado and shapes an image of Romanov. “Would you crush him for me, as well?”
Nena drops the maul, and shakes her head. “Never.”
“… knowingly,” Ranalc teases and lets the notion sit.
Nena reels and vomits.
Ranalc smiles and changes the scenery, recreating the room she shares with Romanov, and making the shattered pieces look like him. “Amusing. So easy to manipulate, I almost wonder if I made a lazy choice.
“I made you crush a man for no reason, and then regurgitate at the notion of crushing another. I understand that the lives of such short lived creatures might mean something to you mortals, but…”
Nena shivers and looks longingly at the bed she shares with Romanov, the simple intimacy and comfort they share wholesome and good when brought into sharp relief courtesy Ranalc’s meddling. She crawls foreword and reaches for one of the shattered pieces, intending to bring it back and have someone cast raise dead, but it melts into black liquid at her slightest touch.
Ranalc laughs. “I am creation, thus I drive you to engage in procreative activities, to feed my power in the prime,” he informs her. “Don’t worry, I find this Romanov creature useful to sate my thirsts.”
Nena’s mind spins, terrified, ashamed of herself and her actions. Aerodus was a fool for thinking that he could treat with fey. Against the Hellfaun she fared no better, and this creature is far more powerful. Her one hope is that this is an illusion as well, that when Ranalc breaks whatever spell he is holding her under she will wake in Aerodus’s hotel room and everything will be as it was before.
“Do you wish to undo your decision?” he asks.
“Yes,” Nena answers immediately, desperately.
Ranalc hums. “Time is almost up. I do not wish to surrender my current residence, so let me make some things abundantly clear. You are to maintain the illusion, or I claim your lovers by your own hand. I intend to mock that upstart b##*+ [Calistria] by converting her flock to my line, so I might consume their lust and seed.”
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
“Amuse me, and I might reward you. Annoy me, and I might kill everyone you ever cared for. Perhaps I will make the boy wizard even madder than I drove him before, and make him kill the poor girl? Oh well, I am sure you have an active imagination.” He laughs. “Or did I?”
Nena shakes her head, still holding to the hope that this is all an illusion.
“Your expression is priceless, little bird. I am sure your antics shall prove an adequate diversion as time passes. But know this, if you spite me now, I will devise… a prank.”
Ranalc approaches Nena, beginning to fade, and steps into her. “Oh yes. For fun, I will give you a spell, and see what you do with it.”
Nena is returned to Aerodus’s suite with the knowledge that the dangerous fey entity known as Count Ranalc, who seeks to oppose a goddess resides inside her, and she has a Miracle spell at her disposal. She spends a good deal of time contemplating what she can use the power to achieve, dismissing several wild theories like curing Ursian’s madness, and sounder ones like teleporting Julian to her location, and finally learning the truth of what occurred during the three weeks of her absence, but decides to restore Aerodus’s life. Nena pales as he appears before her, and clings to the nearest piece of furniture.
“I think I would like to go home, now,” she says in a child’s voice.
Aerodus marvels at the power of the fey creature, assuming that Ranalc killed him, and embraces Nena in his relief. Overwhelmed by terror, grief, and such powerful human emotion from a man she discounted as a monster, Nena reveals that it was she who murdered him. Aerodus hits her, but his best efforts to intimidate her are nothing compared to the fresh demonstration of Ranalc’s power.
“You said you wanted to know me better,” she jests with little mirth. “I am a consummate f*#~ up, but I rarely lie.”
Aerodus nods. “I know. Your powers are those of persuasion. I can get liars rather easily.” He meets her eyes. “I am going to repay you for spending your power on me. Ranalc made me aware of how that was my only chance. Likely he manipulated this from the beginning, being insulted by my arrogance.”
Nena’s eyes narrow. “I do not know what you hoped to accomplish summoning him, but I am fairly certain that if I wake in the morning and reality has not ceased to exist, I will not care,” she dismisses, and pulls herself to her feet.
“Your pride is a strange thing.”
Nena informs Aerodus that she was plotting to use the power he lent her to accomplish his task to work towards freeing Jorunn and Julian from captivity, and Aerodus tells her that he can return Jorunn to her the next day. Julian, he says, will be harder. Nena regards him vacantly, emotionally drained, and unable to discern whether or not Aerodus is being sincere, and simply walks away. She does not even feel the chill on her bare feet on the long journey to Rahkhaim’s in the frozen night, having completely forgotten she removed her boots during her tease earlier in the night. She shuffles towards the room she shares with Romanov, and finds it shrouded in what she perceives to be unnatural dark, and the doorknob glacially cool. Nena uses magic to open the door, and nearly shrieks when the sound of shattering glass is heard at that moment.
Inside the room, Romanov is lounging before the fireplace, stoking it to keep the cold out.
“Oh,” Nena sighs and nearly falls down.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
“I missed you,” she admits in a quivering voice.
Romanov scoops Nena up and deposits her in his lap before the fire, and wraps them both in a warm blanket to ward off the cold. In a distant voice, she informs him that she understood many things about herself and their relationship that evening, and that she will never ask him to hurt her ever again. Romanov embraces her, relieved, and they attain a new level of intimacy.
II: Session Fifteen, Scene One – Cold Spell
Before Nena and Romanov retire to bed, Nena uses the ring Aerodus offered her as a sign on bonus to Send a message to Ragnar informing him about the very sudden change in her situation.
Touched by your concern.
Romanov and I yearn
To celebrate your return.
With faith and love,
Ever still, your captain.
And receives his reply shortly thereafter.
When did you learn to use this spell? Regardless, I understand, and will do my utmost to return. Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more.
Nena bunks down with Romanov, huddling close for warmth in the cool winter evening, and comfort considering her ordeal. Sleep brings no relief. In her dreams, Nena’s friends and loved ones shatter and fade into darkness. Worse, Ranalc appears upon his throne of shadows, surrounded by children he claims to have made from the raw materials from her many couplings. Nena watches in horror as their smiling faces and expressive eyes become wracked with pain as the warmth is removed from them, film with frost, freeze and then blacken in death. She wakes several times during the course of the night, and despite crawling back to Romaov’s arms, there is precious little heat.
Nauseated and physically exhausted by the nightmares, Nena quits the bed before Romanov wakes, dry heaves several times and wraps herself in her warmest kit before stumbling out of the room. The unnatural darkness she perceived the previous night has persisted and the windows in their hall have frosted shut.
“What do you want from me?” she whispers in Sylvan.
A spine-chilling cry from a raven breaks the deadness of the dark, as if mocking her. Nena’s nightmares flash before her eyes, and she suddenly sees a face rise as if from the ground, blue and frozen. Jazine, one of the girls she is training to dance artistically stands beside her door, looking sick and confused. Nena notices the faint smell of liquor on her breath.
Nena reaches for the girl, and touches her shoulder tentatively. “Jazine, sister?”
When the girl does not respond, Nena calls out for Romanov to take charge of the situation. The pair get the prostitute into the room, and while Nena prepares a hot bath, Romanov casts resist energy to keep her from suffering any more damage from cold. Quickly reaching the limit of her usefulness in terms of healing aide, Romanov suggests that Nena discover where Jazine has come from while he attends her. Nena learns that the prostitute strayed from their bar after a generous patron had served her too much alcohol, claiming she needed to use the restroom, and had not returned. Fearing the worst, Nena hurriedly checks on the remainder of her troupe, but finds them safe in their beds, some even with customers. She recognizes that the cold is likely natural, but the dark that pervades the area around their rooms is unique in the house. Jazine is sleeping peacefully in the bed Nena and Romanov share when she returns, and Romanov embraces her tightly, recognizing that there is something wrong.
“This is my fault,” she allows.
“How did you change the weather?”
Nena shakes her head, and offers a really pathetic lie about Calistria luring the prostitute away because She was jealous that Nena was diverting Jazine’s attentions from her primary occupation and worship of Calistria which Romanov immediately calls her on. She turns and buries her face in his chest, hiding her shame. “I did not sleep well,” she says.
“I noticed. You were tossing and turning pretty bad,” he comforts, tightening his embrace.
“I failed to satisfy, again.”
Romanov sighs. “What are you keeping from me?”
Nena laughs darkly. “What don’t we keep from each other? Ragnar is returning. I have three bosses, two of which I am almost certain are monsters wearing human skins.”
“Oh, so the reason you keep things from me is that it is a hassle to reiterate them all?” Romanov frowns and pushes Nena to arms length and stares her down. “Guess I am not so much of a mirror then, am I?”
Nena spares the ceiling a pointed glance, indicating their mutual employer, the diviner. “Leaded mirrors, so that we can know each other better,” she says.
“None really approve of us,” she continues on impulse. “Together we’re unpredictable and a hindrance to their plots. I keep thinking if only I can just please them some of the times, I can observe and learn something useful, and achieve more. So many failures so many omissions of truth, I’m losing myself.” Nena looks up at him with sad, pleading eyes. “You’re the only one I know isn’t also theirs.”
Romanov gives a weak smile. “I guess. Still, would be nice to be included in your schemes at least.”
Nena returns one of the same. “Vareno encouraged me to keep Ivaniro happy,” she offers, well aware that he is of the eccentric tailor’s lust for him.
Romanov cringes. “I am glad I was not given that command.”
Nena giggles darkly. “Still wish to be included?” she wonders, considering that the host of her plots are far more involved and far less pleasant than entertaining a friendly, if odd, craftsman.
Romanov pulls her close again, burying her face in his chest. “As far as what is going on with you, yes.”
“I can’t,” Nena sobs.
“Can’t? You can’t open your mouth and form words?”
Nena begins to feel physically ill again, the images of crushing Aerodus, her nightmares, and the knowledge that Jazine was lured away to pay the price for her lack of entertainment weighing heavily on her delicate stomach. “I told you, there is something dark inside me.”
Romanov nods and makes a mocking smirk. “The average teenage metaphor, or is there more to it?”
Nena allows the faintest hint of a smile. “Am I average in anything? Appearance, appetite… accommodation,” she shakes her head. “My drive is far from average. You and I compliment each other. And it amuses that part.”
“I am not sure I follow. Are you hearing voices, now?” He sighs and embraces her. “I guess it has been eventful lately.”
Romanov seems to believe that Nena is suffering from mental fatigue and extreme stress, and holds her tightly a while, and Nena does not believe it is prudent to correct his assumptions.
II: Sessions Sixteen, Seventeen and Eighteen - Prelude to the Fall
Trusting that Romanov can care for the stricken Jazine, Nena dresses for cool weather and walks to the market, reasoning that the change of scenery will improve her dour mood. She finds herself wandering in the direction of the stall that typically sells musical instruments, having left her flute in the wilds weeks before as an offering to the fey creatures that altered Anica's perceptions of her. Having not the eye to evaluate the quality of mundane pieces, Nena picks up a stray violin and tests the quality of the sound with by playing a little piece, which turns out exceedingly well. The merchant advances another for her consideration, looking a little worse for ware about the transaction. Nena looks over the piece, and warns the merchant before casting a simple spell to divine its magical properties. An arcane mark glitters on the piece, a dragon's claw clutching lightning bolt, and Nena also recognizes that the magic within not only aides her ability to play, but allows her to dazzle with minor illusions as well. Handling the precious instrument with extreme care, she returns the violin to its case, and informs the merchant that he would benefit from having a master appraise the piece. Immediately, she notices the soft crushing sound of boots disturbing snow behind her, and turns to see an extremely tall, handsome Varisian man with blue hair and tattoos imbued with magic standing out on his bare chest despite the cold.
"Don Artiglero," the merchant announces, and bows to the newcomer.
"Do not worry, Bartrow," the man says, "I believe that this one is versed in the arcane."
Nena nods. "So much as a performer can be," she demures politely.
The colorful man smiles broadly. "Our people know the power of... performers," he returns in flawless Varisian.
"Some I imagine. Those who hold faith in Desna, still," Nena replies in the same.
He takes a deep breath, as if savoring a sweet smell. "It is good to hear the music of our language even here in the brutal and unrefined East."
"I have only recently rediscovered my mother's tongue. I pray my pronunciation has not gone flat."
He laughs and shakes his head. "I would be enraged if another accused your voice of being flat, when you have more song and melody in it than even my own mother."
Nena giggles softly and mentally takes a step away from the hard edge the events of the evening and the morning have shoved her towards. "How is it a figure such as yourself, and such a gorgeous instrument have come to be in this town?"
"Long story. Suffice to say I used to be known for my heroics in a far off city. Then my adventuring party more or less disintegrated, and I took to the road to get that stink out of my hair."
His name, appearance, and ethnicity give Nena the clues she needs to recall the stories of Azzurai Artilegro, the Dragon of Korvosa, and his band of Heroes that opposed its queen. Nena's social curiosity shifts and becomes professional as she immediately begins to ponder how his arrival on the scene will affect Vareno's careful plans.
"Regular bathing did not help?" she jests.
"My fondness for baths aside, I found the city's filth and corruption seeped deeper than what mere soap could rinse out." He smiles and stretches gracefully. "My feet craved the road, as my spirit longed for horizons."
Nena's eyes flash, recognizing that this man is a hero, and in her experience, Littletown's political climate is none too hospitable. "Best you continue your journey, friend," she warns, "and soon."
Azzurai frowns and discounts the warning. His caravan needs a place to winter, and he prefers employment when the temperatures drop. Nena points him towards Vareno, knowing that the elder general will find out about him sooner rather than late, and towards the Gilded Wheel Inn, where the most successful merchants gather. He impedes her swift exit and practically forces the magical violin on her, claiming that it has been neglected, and she would be doing him a favor. Nena reluctantly accepts, recalling that exposure to the elements affects instruments negatively.
"Such a fine instrument," she hums. "I will do my utmost to contain my desire to employ it for nefarious purposes."
"An instrument is happiest when it is used," he replies with a smile.
Following the encounter, Nena walks to the homeless encampment for the first time in weeks, her objective to meet with Sayyida and have the priestess perform another examination on her in consideration of the revelation of Count Ranalc's presence and likely tampering. She finds Ursian's shelter still installed within, and feels compelled to warn him to vacate as quickly as possible. His apprentice, Natasha answers the door, and having gained some weight, appears hale and much more healthy. The bright eyed orphan makes her master and his guest some tea while Nena and Ursian sit.
"Are you still disposed to spend the winter here?" she asks.
Ursian chuckles. "This sad and dismal dump is hardly fitting. I might teleport us to a more comfortable climate."
"I met a colorful man in the market this morning. He was also looking to travel on," Nena informs him, aware of the dangers of traveling alone. "He should not be difficult to locate, should you wish to have some company for the trip."
"I do not intend to travel by foot. Whatever journey we make is over in an instant."
"Good," Nena decides, and rises. "I will not take up any more of your time."
Natasha calls out to Nena, her eyes begging her to stay. Nena, a sucker for young girls with promise, and having a fondness for the girl despite her ardent wish not to pervert her with her mere proximity, remains and performs on her new instrument a while. The illusion spells inherent in the instrument cast themselves, turning the room into a forest glade, complete with vines and flowers decorating the walls, and lush grass the floor. Ursian studies the piece and asks where Nena received it, and she informs him of Azzurai.
Ursian's eyes widen. "The Blue Scourge?" he laughs and sits down at the table. "If you have money problems, his head goes for fifty-thousand gold back home."
Nena frowns, her stomach rolling. "I am not with... my patron for the financial benefits."
Ursian nods. "I have come to understand and accept that," he replies in Sylvan. "Natasha has taught me much about myself, and tutoring another has given me much needed cause to reflect." He reaches out and takes Nena's hand over the table. "I want to thank you for the good moments, and hope we need not dwell on the bad. You have shown me my weaknesses and allowed me to grow passed a crippling hurdle I had neither the courage nor the insight to face." He smiles softly and apologetically. "And I wish to thank you for that."
Nena hisses and pulls her hand back, her nightmares flashing before her eyes again, and Ursian takes the reaction poorly, becoming hard. She apologizes and tells him that she is not herself, and warns him in veiled terms that she is being manipulated again, that Romanov cannot help, and that he should leave immediately. As she prepares to leave, Natasha arrests Nena's progress again, inviting her to spend the night in the shelter. Recognizing the girl's need for some affection, Nena agrees, and pulls Ursian out to speak to him in private. She suggests that he should hire a portly, non sexually threatening matron to his household staff when he arrives in whatever city he takes residence in, to give the girl what she needs, and he agrees. On impulse, Nena reminds him that she loves him, and the boy, overcome with emotion embraces her. Nena understands how physically inferior the boy is with his fervor, feeling that the difference in their strengths is so great that she could easily crush him with her fist should she have the inclination.
The moment of affection is interrupted by Sayyida's exit from her home, escorted by the Varisian merchants from the marketplace. Sayyida informs Nena that the gentlemen have just given an extremely large donation to the relief fund, beaming like the face of her goddess, the Dawnflower. The merchant Bartrow greets Nena again, and asks if she wishes to speak with the Don Artilegro, who he informs her is within, paying his respects to a fallen party member.
"Then I will not disturb him," Nena declines, recognizing that the window of opportunity for her to be examined by Sayyida without arousing suspicion has closed.
"Respects are given easily enough," Azzurai dismisses, filling the doorway with his large frame. "This place is hardly large."
Ursian reels at the sight of the man. "So that is how fifty thousand gold bounties look," he jests in Sylvan.
Nena regards Ursian with a sly smile. "My friend is awe of your regal bearing, Don," she lies in translation from Sylvan to Varisian.
The big man grins. "Regal, huh? Maybe I should have gone for the crown instead of aiming to destroy it then."
He and Sayyida converse for a few moments about the terms of the donation. Azzurai assures her that his charity is legit, he just wishes for her to perform a hymn or some manner of mass in the memory of his fallen friend. Sayyida bows to the sorcerer and returns to her house, closing the door behind her. Nena bows to the man herself, and moves to exit, then stops.
"If you plan to stay for the winter," she begins, then shakes her head. "Pray forgive me, I have errands to attend to."
Azzurai arrests Nena's progress and looks to the violin case. "She woke already? Your skill must truly be something else. You may leave, but I wish to have words later," he insists.
"Is that all?" she teases in Varisian. "My patron will be cross."
Azzurai allows a sly smile. "I have yet to pay for a woman, but that does not mean that we cannot be friends."
"I am hardly mercenary," Nena dismisses, and kisses Ursian on the cheek before exiting.
Nena returns to the brothel, and spies a large figure standing beside the door, and over the form of an unconscious guard. She creeps up closer, hoping to identify the threat before she arrives. The figure recognizes her approach, however, and Nena approaches slower, readying a hold person spell should the figure attack her. It chuckles as Nena nears.
"You were never able to sneak up to, or away from me, girl," a vaguely feminine voice sounds.
"How's that, ma'am?" Nena asks and comes closer.
The figure parts its heavy cloak and reveals a worn and battered Jorunn, who has accumulated more scars.
"My lady?" Nena questions, and closes the distance between them. "Why did you attack my friend?"
Jorunn turns and looks at the guard. "Your friend?" she repeats. "This dog tried to make me move away from here. I told him I was waiting for a friend. Besides, I barely tapped his stomach."
Nena shakes her head, and bends and heals the downed guard. "What have we learned today, friend?" she asks.
"To be wary of people who seem to be adventurer ilk?"
Jorunn snorts derisively. "The battlefield would have devoured this weakling."
Nena rises and offers the guard a hand up. "A battlefield, yes, but watching our house is hardly so demanding. Most days."
Jorunn shakes her head and bats Nena's hand away. "Rise on your own power, and grow stronger if you hope to make a mark on the world."
Jorunn embraces Nena, and crushes the bard in her mighty grip, the only softness her impressive bosoms. Nena shrieks happily, and is relieved when the barbarian releases her, and leads her into the house, and back towards the room that she and Romanov share. The oracle is sitting at his work station, preparing a batch of ale for the evening. She kisses his cheek softly and introduces the pair, and begins buzzing around her former hostess to make Jorunn comfortable, including starting a bath and sending some of the household servants to appropriate fresh clothing. Despite seeing the extent of Jorunn's scars when the larger woman strips down for her bath, Nena does not ask about her battlefield experiences, content to give her friend comfort. While Nena works on washing and combing the barbarian's tangled tresses, she tells Jorunn the tale of her life since she returned from the First World, how she met Anica and Romanov, and came to Littletown. Nena's former lover expresses her interest in renewing their relations, an idea which entices Romanov. The lusty orcale is eager to assist Nena's efforts, and the trio move to the bed.
During the course of their evening, Nena recognizes that Romanov easily takes to the barbarian and her appetites. The thought occurs to Nena that should it be required, she may be able to convince her lover to leave with her friend, to reduce the fallout when next Ranalc comes calling. She remains for the most an accessory to their pleasure, happy to have Jorunn beside her again, until the last when the older woman encourages her to please Romanov. The large oracle displays none of his typical consideration for Nena's significantly smaller frame, hurting her in the process, but she does not complain.
II: Session Nineteen, Scene One - The Fall of Littletown, pt. 1
Nena kneels on the bed for a few minutes after the session while she recovers, considering her position in light of the discovery of Ranalc and her tenuous association with Aerodus Xapiri, then shakes her head and brushes her fingertips across Romanov's bare leg.
"Your cleaning spell, my love," she plys gently. "And some healing, too," she adds after a moment.
Romanov obliges her, and Jorunn rises and washes and dresses herself, expressing interest in eating following their exertion. Nena ducks into her closet and returns with her simple Varisian costume, and reverse teases Romanov playfully while she dresses.
"What are your plans for this evening, my mirror?" she inquires.
Romanov shrugs. "Got most of my work done early, so I guess I'll get hammered," he answers.
"Would that I could join you," Nena sighs, the prospect appearing much more favorable than entertaining at Ursian's shelter.
At that moment, a hiss sounds in the night. Fearing assassins, Nena ducks to the side of the window and looks cautiously out. At first it appears as though the stars are shifting, but she gradually becomes aware that the sky is swarming with an impossibly large host of black dragons. An ear splitting roar shatters most of the glass in a half-mile radius. Nena dodges the flying glass with ease, and rushes to equip her gear. A dragon lands on the house across the way, casts darkness and from the sound of the screams from the occupants, begins murdering everyone within, and the passers by. Jorunn and Romanov hurriedly equip themselves, a practiced Nena assisting Romanov with his full plate. As they complete their preparations, a large dragon looks into the broken window, and fixes the heroes with a penetrating glare that sends them running from the room. As Nena flees for her life, she hears the rider call "Nazzarblogh!" but hasn't the luxury of sense to ponder what the call could mean.
Nena's first thought is that Rahkhaim likely has some manner of magical assistance. She runs for the wizard's office and her partners follow her. The diviner's office door is closed, and two of Nena's sister prostitutes are pounding on it, begging for entrance and security. A black dragon appears at the head of the stairs and uses its breath weapon against the assembly, melting the prostitutes where they stood. Nena's temper soars, not only did the wizard refuse entrance to untrained and unarmed girls, but his cowardice was the cause of their deaths. Jorunn rages and attacks the dragon with her sword, landing solid hits. After a brief exchange, assisted by Romanov for healing and Nena's inspiring songs, Jorunn cuts down the dragon rather easily.
"Zee humans! Dey keelz Frazhaz! Tellz Nazzarblogh! Tellz Master!" A voice echoes in the hallway, and a small detachment of kobolds bluster to escape.
Fearing "Master's" revenge, Nena pursues, casting Confusion on the band. Two of the four remain and fire at her with their crossbows, but miss. On their next action, they begin attacking each other, and Jorunn steps foreword and utterly annihilates them in melee.
Just as combat ends, the party hears a huge noise at the top of the stairs, and rush to Rahkhaim's office. Jorunn, still enraged, kicks the solid, arcane locked door down with a single blow, revealing a large hole in the wall filled with a dragon's head, a figure in Dragonhide armor holding a cruel looking falchion in one hand, and Rahkhaim's severed head in the other. As Nena watches the light fade from her least trustworthy partner's eyes, she recognizes that the sanguine display is too convenient, that the armored warrior seems to have been directed to murder the wizard first. In a moment of clarity, seemingly despite the carnage, Nena understands that neither she, nor any of her party are capable of opposing the warrior. Romanov, proving his superior battle senses, cast cloud fog and begins running away. Jorunn hesitates, looking to Nena for guidance, and she repeats the sentiment verbally before following Romanov. The warrior bellows some none too inspiring words after them, and pursues. Romanov covers their escape with fog, and the warrior, unsettled, ceases his pursuit.
"Rovagug take you! I will burn you like rats!" he bellows.
Nena and her party duck into cover and she quickly casts invisibility on her partners, and finally on herself, reasoning that they should not wait around for the warrior to make good on his threat. As they are departing the building, Nena watches a team of kobolds lobbing oil at the house, and a robed spellcaster shoots fire from his hands to light the accelerant. Two large dragons are perched on adjacent buildings, watching the proceedings with wicked amusement. A prostitute attempts to flee the fires through a window, which one dragon promptly dispatches with his acid breath, and giggles with malicious glee. Nena, recognizing that this is not a scene that she and her party can have any significant influence over, continues moving.
Of all the times not to have perfect clarity in her execution. Romanov, in his full plate, missteps and draws the attention of one of the dragons, effectively forcing the trio to stand and battle the group. He immediately casts wall of fire and separates the group from the group of kobolds, but their spellcaster deftly dodges and takes no damage. Within seconds, the dragons are on Jorunn and Romanov, and attack them. Nena casts sculpt sound, successfully transmuting the enemy spellcaster's voice into birdsong before he can become a viable threat to them, and bolsters Romanov's ability to defend himself and her from the dragon attacking him. Unfortunately, too few of his attacks land against the dragon, and he is felled in his valiant defense of his lover and leader. Nena moves closer to Jorunn and her paltry attempts at healing keep the barbarian standing while she hacks at the pair of dragons.
Somewhere amongst the chaos of fighting to preserve the life of her remaining partner and her own, Ragnar arrives and begins attacking the dragon that felled Romanov. Nena's performance bolsters his abilities and his defenses, but like Romanov, his attacks are ineffective, and he slays the offending dragon with difficulty. Jorunn appears about ready to fall, but stands and fights on her tenacity alone. Nena's timely intervention aides Ragnar in connecting with the hit that slays the remaining dragon, sparing Jorunn's life. The ranger picks up Romanov and the impromptu party flee towards the garrison, reasoning that it, among all other buildings in the town, would be defended by the Regulars.
On their rush to the area, the party is arrested by the landing of another large dragon. Nena, stricken by the deaths of her lover, the girls she was sworn to protect, and the loss of the house she sank so much of her time, money and effort into begins to despair, but the dragon is felled with a bolt of lightning from above. The sorcerer Azzurai lands on the corpse, then hops off it and engages the party in conversation amongst the carnage.
"Where did these bastards come from?" he demands.
"The shadow plane, likely," Nena answers.
"Half my caravan was decimated. I want whomever caused this, so I might tear out his beating heart!"
Nena nods, the first stirrings of grief tearing at her throat. "I... yes. In the meantime, will you help me save others?"
"I have already killed three. Only one this big, though. There seems to be no end to them."
"We're going to the commander," Nena informs him, "He is likely to have more information, if-"
At that moment, the awful realization dawns on Nena. The assault was meticulously planned. And among the few figures that knew where Rahkhaim was likely to take refuge during a crisis were General Vareno, who had ordered her to hold her peace and wait on his permission to act against their enemies. Vareno, whose bed she shared mistaking his ability to manipulate her to get whatever he wanted from her for himself for care about her person, and her heart. The Silver General who had ordered Ragnar away from her side and left her in the dark with Romanov and Rahkhaim, who he knew she had reason to distrust. Urisan, too, stood to benefit from eliminating a rival for Nena's affections, and leaving her alive as a witness to the house it appeared she abandoned him for would be sufficient revenge in kind for breaking his heart. And he had spoken of bounties on heroes as though it were nothing significant, and of instant travel from the town.
Ragnar shakes his head. "Something is wrong," he says.
Azzurai muses. "Now that you mention it, one of the guards should have noticed this and raised an alarm before this went down."
Nena sobs once, just once, besides herself with grief, misery, and terrible, soul consuming loathing and hatred. "They'll both be gone," she states with no melody in her tight voice.
Jorunn flinches and holds her side. "Who will be gone?"
"Ursian, and Vareno."
Ragnar shakes his head again. "The general cannot," he begins and then nods grimly. "I did not think he had it in him."
"That is his greatest talent," Nena confirms coldly, "knowing exactly what one wants to hear."
Azzurai snarls. "I have come to learn that darkness can sit deeper than you think, and compel people to commit atrocities no human should even consider."
Nena shakes her head stiffly, misinterpreting that Azzurai is suggesting that Vareno and Ursian were manipulated. "You do not know these men."
"I do not, but I knew similar beings. Monsters in human guises, slaughtering their own people to achieve their goals."
The party remains in place a while longer while Nena decides what is to be done. It is clear to her that she, with precious few remaining spells in her retinue and having used up several of her rounds of performance for the day, a merely surviving barbarian, an archer and a sorcerer can do very little to stem the inexhaustible tide of black dragons from the plane of Shadow. She expresses her desire to see if Ivaniro lives, but when they find his shop relatively undisturbed, Ragnar suggests that they leave it and not draw attention. She then arranges to meet them elsewhere while she goes and checks on Sayyida alone, using a scroll Rahkhaim provided her with weeks ago to turn herself into a diminutive animal to escape detection.
Nena finds the homeless encampment ground to assorted wastes, and Sayyida's home deeply scratched and crushed as though staved in by a very large weight landing on its roof. Nena sneaks into the home, which is threatening to collapse, and finds Sayyida among the rubble. Sayyida's legs have been slashed so that she is kneeling before the man in the dragon scale armor, who seems to be enjoying the amount of power he has over the disabled cleric.
"This is delightful!" he cries, "I only wish I could sacrifice you more than once, filthy sun-whore!"
Recognizing that she can do nothing to assist in this form, Nena crouches behind some rubble, but cannot look away from the scene.
The man in dragon scale armor removes his helm, revealing a rather Brevic appearance, black scaly growths on his face and long flowing black hair. He is undeniably handsome, and terrifying.
"I have come to grow fond of these moments. Before they die, people show who they really are. Begging, angry, scared. Offering me rewards, servitude, and more before I extinguish the light from their eyes."
Sayyida shakes her head and gives a piteous look. "This is all the interaction you have with anyone, isn't it? The only time people show you anything but mere fear or obedience?"
"The sermon," the man chuckles, "been a while since I heard that one." He lifts Sayyida by the neck and cradles her close in a mockery of an intimate embrace. "I am lacking love and compassion, I lash out at the world in anger for my own injustice, and only the realization that I am only punishing myself will set me free? Or is yours of a different flavor?" he hums as he strokes her hair, grabbing it in the back and pulling "No, I am quite aware of what I am doing..."
At this point, Nena recognizes that she has three choices:
1. If she rushes this man to save the priestess, she and the priestess die, and the campaign is over.
2. If she does nothing, something inside of her dies.
3. If she runs away... she might survive, but she is unlikely ever to be able to call herself "good" ever again.
II: Session Twenty: The Fall of Littletown, Cont. & Farewell...
As Nena watches the dragonscale armored warrior torture her former hostess and contemplates her next action, a sound like a dam bursting in small hisses of water sounds as the night sky opens an eye to look down at the pair, grumbling in draconic "SHE IS TO BE BROUGHT ALONG BOY! THE MOTHER DEMANDS IT!"
The black armored man frowns. "Count your blessings, heretic. You'll live..." he places his thumbs over Sayyida's eyes, "...but will never see another dawn!" and drives his thumbs in as she screams.
The dragon flaps his massive wings and swats the warrior into the wall with his huge tail before he manages to blind the priestess. "YOU DARE TAKE THAT ENJOYMENT FROM HER?!"
Applying some rational thought, considering his earlier outburst, Nena recognizes that the man in dragonscale plate, while allied with the black dragons, is not particularly suited for taking their orders. This knowledge is of little use to her, however, and quickly discarded as she returns to consideration of her options at this point. Reasoning that the pair of evil creatures are otherwise engaged, she steps behind the rubble she was hiding in, and dismisses the spell effect making her appear as a diminutive animal. She readies another spell, invisibility, and manages to cast it before the dragon rolls his huge eyes in her direction.
The dragon disregards the warrior and turns, having no problems discerning Nena's location. "THE HOST!" He hisses like a thousand accusing vipers. "THE POWER THE XAPIRI SPOKE OF, I SMELL IT ON HER!"
Equal parts confident in the deterent Count Ranalc's power poses, and reckless and determined to save Sayyida's life, Nena takes several large steps towards the priestess.
Well, you said you enjoyed chaos, she says in her mind to Ranalc. Hope you find this amusing, Sir.
An ethereal chuckle ripples in response.
"NO!" the dragon bellows. "SHE LIVES UNTIL WE CAN HARNESS IT!"
"If you kill my lady friend, you will make me exceedingly cross," Nena warns.
The evil warrior scoffs. "Insignificant simian whore! You dare address the mihty Nazzarbolgh with such insolence?"
Nena gives a dark chuckle, a little mad with all the power, and fright. "Insignificant am I? And what are you? Cruel to helpless women? Such an icon of power," she teases.
"ENOUGH! I HAVE NOT THE PATIENCE FOR THIS!" the dragon intimidates.
Nena stops laughing. In the absence of her voice, another, as cold as the deepest winter, yet as melodious as the clearest harpsichord sounds from the dark. All of the dark. "You cannot even fathom the concept of eternity, lizard. Your arrogance in thinking that you can not only comprehend me, but even harness me," the flash of anger leaves a coat of grim on everything, "amuses me more than the fall of Nyx and the Azlanti."
Recognizing that Ranalc holds the forum now, Nena continues moving foreword and reaches Sayyida, trembling with something other than cold. The dragon coils in terror and tries to spew its breath weapon over nena, which flash-freezes in midair, and his scales creak as they expand and crack from the cold as frost from the frozen acidic jet creeps down its maw, to claim its limbs and body. Sayyida is also frozen in place, Nena recognizes as she reaches and touches her. Ranalc has frozen time for all by Nena, and shows her an image of Romanov, smiling, with his arms wide and inviting to bear.
"I despise the light and all her servants. Shatter her for my satisfaction, and I shall restore your lover," he offers, impling that he will remove Romanov forever if she does not.
Nena ponders the choice for a time. She knows that if she is to kill the servant of a good god, she will have killed a very large part of herself, that which considers itself good before all other things, despite her many failures. She also knows that if she were to recover Romanov in such a way, she would not be able to live with him, lying to him about so great a sin day after day. The choice is hardly one at all, something Romanov would abhor. Nena decides that she would rather live without Romanov, and hold to all the advice and love he has given her, then to willingly submit to the temptation to do evil simply to satisfy herself.
"No," she tells Ranalc.
Ranalc remains silent a while, then hums. "Can you go on without your pillar? This shall be amusing to see. Well, this put me in the creative corner, so I guess we can have some fun."
Nena begins breathing shallowly, panicked by Ranalc's definition of fun. The frost coating the black dragon seeps into it, making black run from its scales like filth from skin in a shower. The dragonscale armored warrior steps back in terror as the scales start shimmering brilliantly silver. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" he demands.
Nena giggles, and begins crying. The newly created silver dragon gives a cry of righteous outrage as it mourns the injustices around it, then fills Nena with a mix of elated dread as it turns that outrage to anger, drawing upon some higher power, smiting the dragonscale armored warrior with its every attack. When he is able to get a word in edgewise, the warrior casts dimension door, and disappears, having very nearly been rended to pieces by the dragon. Sayyida thaws in front of Nena's eyes, but is suffering from severe hypothermia, as Jazine earlier in the day.
"He is still around," Nena informs the silver dragon, knowing their particular bent to dispense justice against evil foes. "Do you care to finish him, or will you please help me with this poor lady?"
The silver dragon looks to its claws and seems confused. "Wait, you are Nena? What is going on here? I died at the hands of a huge dragon! Erastil keep me! I am a dragon!" he exclaims after looking down at his entire form.
Nena laughs, tears streaming down her face, a wild hope flickering in her heart. "Who?" she says, then becomes despondent again when her memory fires. "Gared?" she questions, recalling the paladin of Erastil she met in her first term of residence.
The dragon nods, then touches Sayyida to heal her. Nena bends over her lap and wails in abject misery, the flickering hope that she should ever see her lover again dying on her breath. Around the trio the sounds of battle rage as the defenders of Littletown seem to gain an edge on the host of black dragons, having lost their commander and the spear of their charge. Lighting bolts and arrows are tearing dragons out of the air.
"Have. to... get out," Nena manages, forcing herself to look up, "and help," she tells Gared. "Can you carry us? I can't walk," she whispers, voice breaking.
Gared the silver dragon and paladin of Erastil blinks. "I... I don't know how to fly," he says.
"Your limbs are stronger than ours," Nena notes. "Maybe... I can get Sayyida onto your back?" she pulls herself to her feet and together to try.
Gared summons his horse, and Nena lifts the battered cleric onto the saddle, then covers her with a blanket to keep her from catching too much chill. "Will that do?" he asks. "I think a horse will draw less attention than me," he continues and gestures to the angry black dragon host circling above them.
Nena chuckles and takes hold of the horse's reins. "I never learned to ride a horse," she says and then looks at Gared guiltily. "Emilia?" she wonders, recognizing that the paladin, too has a lover he had sworn to protect. Gared simply closes his eyes and frowns. "I will," Nena begins and then stops. She arrests herself on the verge of melting down for the second time that night. "You're too big to make invisible. Would you like me to stay?"
"Protect Sayyida, the town needs her after this is all over," he pleads, implying that the priestess is all that stands between his lover and an early and painful death.
Thunder cracks above them, and a black dragon plummets from the sky, ridden down by Azzurai Artilegro, the Dragon of Korvosa. "NOTHING SHALL HARM HER! SHE HAS TWO MIGHTY DRAGONS PROTECTING HER NOW! THE DEFENDER OF LITTLETOWN, AND THE HERO OF KORVOSA!"
Ragnar and Jorunn come running after Azzurai, and form a perimeter around Nena. She grits her teeth and wipes some moisture from her eyes with a filthy sleeve. "What can I do?" she manages in a strained voice.
"We stand with you!" Jorunn calls. "Remember this, so you might tell the tale!"
Ragnar gives a forced grin. "We follow you, Captain. We protect your life, if you bolster our courage."
Nena sniffles a little, then nods. "I am needed."
The party, save for the infirm Sayyida do battle with the dragons, and slay the majority of the remainder of the host on the spot, mostly due to the assistance of a huge silver dragon with paladin levels. Nena then goes out among the remaining people, and organizes those who are not infirm into groups capable of assisting others to safety, and putting out fires. On the grim rounds, she does her duty and attends Romanov's corpse, which she is relieved to find, getting her hopes up again that he might be restored to life by conventional magics. When they are all teetering on the edge of mental and physical exhaustion, Ragnar leads the group to one of his squatting holes, a former coal room that appears not to have seen use since before the first fire that destroyed Littletown. While the party retires within, Nena remains outside with Gared the dragon, sharing uncomfortable silence for a long while before she wonders, "What are you going to eat?"
Gared shrugs. "I have this strange craving for precious metals."
Nena nods, and pats his maw. "Whelp, you finally know where I am if you want to arrest me," she jests and retires with the others.
Inside, Jorunn is snoring softly where she collapsed in a corner of the room. Ragnar, Sayyida and Azzurai are situated around a fire the ranger is keeping under control with some amount of difficulty. Azzurai is picking dragon scales from his teeth with filthy hands. Nena joins them, curiously unfazed despite very recent fire related trauma.
"He burned down my house again," Nena recognizes and adopts a pained smile.
"In the histories of my people, it is said that they escaped a race of demons. The demons pursued my ancestors through many lands, laying waste to any settlement they erected, driving them further from our home," she recites, momentarily forgetting Azzurai in her recollection. "That is how we became wanderers. Some say," she corrects, and becomes silent again as she studies the ring Aerodus gave her still on her finger.
Azzurai nods solemnly as he studies his stained hands and holds them over the fire to char the dragon goo, seeming otherwise unaffected by fire. "Korvosa, the city I called home, saw a purge of our kind with the rise of the queen and her devil-servants. Guess there is something to it."
Nena spares the sorcerer and glance, then looks to Sayyida and attempts to engage her in conversation, but the priestess is having none of pleasantries this evening. Nena nods, rises, and touches Ragnar's shoulder. "Try to sleep tonight," she whispers to him in Skald.
Azzurai takes Nena to the side and nods towards the exit. "When do we go to take them out?"
Nena lifts the hand with the ring Aerodus gave her, and points at the item to emphasize. "They know that I am still alive. And they know what I carry inside me," she replies in Varisian. "They are smarter, better equipped, and far more ruthless." Azzurai's eyes flash as if excited to face this enemy. "Besides," she continues. "It is not enough to kill them, after this. They must be shown to be the monsters that they are."
On a bit of impulse, Nena kisses her fingertips and presses them to Azzurai's wrist and forces a smile. "Thank you for your assistance, friend."
The sorcerer grins and clasps Nena's shoulder, nodding in a friendly fashion. "The day I can stand idly by and watch suffering, I no longer count myself a man."
Nena nods and joins Jorunn in her corner of the room, settling in beside her for some small amount of comfort in the confined space, and lets sleep claim her.
In her dreams, Nena is transported to a beautiful winter landscape, the sky a permanent night. Stars glitter in competition with frosted snow and icicles and there is a purplish hue on he horizon. The scene reaches to endless horizons in all directions, but as she turns, she sees a hot spring, where Romanov is sitting with steaming water to his chest.
Nena sets her mouth hard. "Haven't enough of your cruel jokes, Count?" she wonders.
Romanov raises his hand and beckons Nena to join him. "It's okay, my love," he says, "You did the right thing. I just wish to say my farewells before-" he arrests himself and shakes his head.
"Oh gods!" Nena wails. She looks at him desperately. "I am not strong enough!" she cries.
"Who is? It is not about being strong enough alone. Together, we grow strong enough to take on most anything. You became the banner to which the others rallied earlier, and you destroyed the attackers."
In Nena's haste to be reuinited with her lover, she stumbles, falls and crawls through the snow before latching on to his face and showering it with desperate kisses. "I was going to tell you everything," she sobs. "I was so mad, so proud."
Splashing sounds from the side of the pool, and Nena sees the dark prince Ranalc sitting and seemingly enjoying the display, sipping a deep red wine. "Do go on," he encourages, "pretend I am not here."
"Here too?" Nena shrieks, and shrinks back.
"This is my domain. His soul is mine now," Ranalc dismisses.
Nena sits up on her knees, thinking furiously. "You are creation," she whispers.
"Sometimes?"
"Give me something of his," she pleads.
Ranalc chuckles. "Oho? What something would this be?"
Nena looks at Romanov for a moment, and then lays a hand on her belly, low on her abdomen. "Family."
Ranalc laughs. "...no. Instead, I think I might remove your memory of him. This is all looking like it is going to be quite boring."
Nena looks to her lover and asks if he can entertain given the constraints, and Romanov is in the process of answering when Ranalc flash freezes the pool and her lover solid in an instant.
"Bored now," the fey prince sighs. "Enjoy your priestess that you bartered him for."
Nena wakes with an oath. Of the dream, she remembers little, but that she was near a pool, and someone important was in a case of black ice, but she has trouble remembering his face. Her relationship with Romanov is distant to her, now, like a friend met and parted with a decade in the past. The pang of loss remains, however, and there is a gaping, aching burn in Nena's stomach whenever she looks on Sayyida. She scrambles outside on her hands and knees and vomits. The Gared dragon is sleeping coiled around his celestial horse, who does not seem to have been troubled with his master's transformation. Upon seeing the dragon, Nena's memory becomes slightly sharper than completely opaque, she can remember Romanov, but his face is blurry and his voice is distorted.
"It wasn't a dream," she sobs and wipes bile from her lips.
The Gared dragon draws breath and looks up. "I got a message when I came back; He will let them go, but for a price. We will not enjoy getting them back."
"From who?" Nena wonders, mind racing. "I..." she gasps and holds the ache in her stomach. "Who will let who go? Ursian?" she tries.
Gared looks at Nena with determined eyes. "He will return, but remember none of us," then shakes her head at her suggestion. "From the memories I carry in this shape, I doubt he is involved. There is someone else. A woman..."
"An elf?" Nena supplied, thinking of Amrandlara.
Gared shrugs. "I only see in this odd spectrum I have a hard time understanding, much less describing."