A Rose In The Wind: A Saga of the Halmae -- Updated June 19, 2014

25x02

Kormick had seen his share of poisonings, but never with results as spectacular as this. He didn't doubt that the man doubled over in front of him, hacking up blood, was the Tide's latest victim—it fit Arden's newly gathered intelligence. But he also didn't have the faintest clue what to do for Lord Ono.

Instead, he stood back and allowed his heart to be warmed by the sight of Savina at her heroic best. She jumped forward, issuing instructions: "Tavi, find help! Mena! Rose! Help me get him on the floor! Lay him flat!" Savina turned Ono's head so he wouldn't choke on his own expectorations. "It's all right, Lord Ono-san," she murmured, and began to pray.

Tavi had raced out of the room. Twiggy and Arden fanned out, investigating. Arden found an overturned bottle. Twiggy sniffed it and whispered, "Arcane poison, extra herbs for good measure." She held up a leaf fragment she'd found.

"Perhaps if we induce vomiting?" Nyoko suggested. Savina nodded but didn't interrupt her prayer, and Nyoko got to work. Lord Ono vomited, and then—

"His heart's stopped," Savina announced—still calm—and she placed both her hands upon Lord Ono's chest and began compressions, eyes now closed in ever more fervent prayer.

Kormick felt helpless. It wasn't enough to resolve that he was going to arrest and, ideally, kill the Tidesmen responsible for this. "We could really use Alirria's help right now," he muttered to no one in particular.

Lord Ono gasped hugely. Savina sat back in relief as he opened his eyes. Tavi rushed in with Sovereign medics, but Ono weakly waved them back out, still flat on his back.

He waited until the door was closed behind them before rasping, "What happened?"

They told him. Like Kormick, no one doubted that the Tide was responsible for the attempted murder, least of all Lord Ono.

"They will be disappointed that they've failed, gentlefolk," Arden said. "They might try again, or worse."

"Then it's best if they don't know how badly they failed," Tavi suggested.

"Indeed," said Mena. "Lord Ono, if you would be willing to take to your bed for a time—"

"—he should do so anyway after such a severe shock to the system," Savina interjected—

"We'll spread the word that you're at death's door," Mena continued. "Let the Tide believe that the attack has succeeded while we go on about our work in secret."

Lord Ono grumbled a little, but Kormick spoke up: "Lord Ono, it seems to me that this enforced bedrest will be the first vacation you've had in years. Am I wrong?"

He was not wrong, and Ono consented to take to his bed as if his life were truly hanging in the balance. His leadership tasks would be delegated to Lady Ono Toshiko—his cousin—who would not know the truth about his condition. "She is not my most trusted lieutenant," he said wryly, "and now that it's obvious there are Tidesmen with access to my office, I trust her even less. I'll be curious to see how she does."

With that, they spirited Ono off to his private chambers, telling everyone that the leader of the Inquisition was on the brink of eternity. And now, thought Kormick, let's see what crawls out of the woodwork to celebrate.

###

The next day, to celebrate, Arden's contact Shen ordered them both double shots of a flame-colored liquid that made Arden's eyes water a little before she even got it to her lips. Her first—and last—sip made her head spin instantaneously.

"You were actually there!" Shen said. "Tell me everything."

"It was beautiful to see my mistress so scared," Arden lied. "She stopped him from dying at that instant, sure, but all she's done is make his death even more prolonged and painful."

"He suffered?"

"He suffers yet."

"And you're sure he won't escape? You're sure he's dying?"

"They're too cowardly to tell the public yet, but yes. The House of the Inquisition is quietly preparing for mourning."

Shen smiled and sipped her drink. "Our plans are off to a good start," she said, and would explain nothing more.

###

As Arden arrived back at the Inn, the innkeeper waylaid her with a stack of letters. "These came for your masters," he said, thrusting them into her hands. "See that they receive them." Arden curtseyed and took the letters upstairs: sleek vellum missives from Pol Henna for Savina and Tavi, a relentlessly square-edged Sovereign envelope for Twiggy, and some scuffed-up sheets for Kormick folded and sealed with copious smears of wax.

Arden started with Tavi and worked her way down the hallway, delivering the mail. Only Twiggy invited her in and opened her letter in front of her, murmuring, "What could this possibly be?" Twiggy's eyes widened, but she smiled, as she read. "This is an invitation from Lady Mochizuki to play Go with her privately! Next weekend! I'm in!"

"That's great news, Lady Chelesta," Arden said. This was the true culmination of all Twiggy's hard work learning Go: a chance to speak privately about the Tide with the head of the Military in Cauldron.

"I can't believe I'm really doing this," Twiggy marveled. "I—"

A rap on the open door interrupted. Savina was standing there.

"Arden, I need to speak with you," she said. "Right now."

Arden sneaked a raised-eyebrows look at Twiggy—What've I done now?—before following her mistress back to Savina's room down the hall.

"Shut the door," Savina said. Arden did. She turned to see Savina standing before the bed, the opened letter lying on the silk covers behind her.

"Who really owns you, Arden?"

Arden was confused. "With respect, Blessed Daughter, your Temple does, of course."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No!" Arden said. "Blessed Daughter, I'm owned by the Temple of the Givers in Pol Henna." Savina studied her, and Arden knew that all the girl's formidable powers of intuition were bent upon her, searching for evidence of untruth. Arden endured it as long as she could before asking, "…aren't I?"

Savina eased her gaze. "I believe you're answering honestly," she pronounced her verdict. "But no, according to the response I've just received to my inquiry, the Temple doesn't own you."

Arden's heart raced. This raised too many questions, all at once, and only a few safe to ask out loud. "Blessed Daughter, if I may ask, why have you been writing home about me?"

"I was thinking of buying you for myself," Savina said. "But—"

She fell silent as their eyes met, and Arden saw that they had both been caught up short by the strangeness of Savina's statement: Arden because she had never grown used to hearing her life discussed as property beyond her control—and Savina because she'd never had such a discussion face-to-face with the property in question.

A moment's silence passed, and then Arden's fear and curiosity drove her to press on.

"Who does own me?" she asked.

"The di Pienta family. You've heard of them?"

"No, Blessed Daughter. Who are they?"

"They are an isolationist family," Savina said. "Not very politically powerful these days, and not wealthy, but respectable enough. They have loaned you to the Temple—offering your labor in exchange for your room and board—because they could not or would not keep you at their own estate. You know nothing of this? How is that possible?"

Excellent question. "I don't know, Blessed Daughter. About a year ago, I was owned by a mine in Pol Aego. It was a cruel place. Many of us died, worked to death. I was on the brink." Arden paused. Savina looked sickened. "My recollection of my final days there is very hazy—I was so weak. As far as I know, Alirrian Givers purchased me out of charity and saved my life. I woke up at your Temple in Pol Henna." That was all true, but not the whole truth. Arden pressed on before Savina asked any follow-up questions. "What will you do now?"

"Well," said Savina, "I suppose I will have to inquire with the di Pientas directly."

Her expression shifted to that searching look again, but this time it was almost warm. "Would you—would you want me to buy you?" she asked. "Would you like that?"

Arden gave the only truthful answer she could think of. "Rather than be owned by strangers—yes, Blessed Daughter."

"Then I will continue looking into this matter," smiled Savina. "And I'll tell you what I learn."

"I would be grateful for that, Blessed Daughter," said Arden.

###

Half an hour later, Tavi summoned Arden to his room. He was sitting at a small desk, his letter opened before him. "Who owns you?" he demanded.

Arden began to wonder if she was having a strange dream. Out loud, she explained what she had just learned. Tavi nodded, accepting her answer matter-of-factly. Arden thus felt safe to ask, "Signor Octavian, why do you ask?"

He answered thoughtfully. "I believe you have served your mistress well, and in addition, I believe you have served my sister and us all with honor and courage. For this, I believe you have earned freedom. I would buy that freedom for you, if I could, and so I've made inquiries about your ownership."

Arden was shocked that he'd thought of it. She was moved that he'd thought of it. She wanted nothing more than to say yes, but he had to be stopped. There was so much that he didn't know, so much that made such an upheaval far too dangerous. There was even a chance that his gesture could end up getting someone killed. Probably me.

"Unfortunately," Tavi added, "this matter of the di Pientas confuses things. I'll write to them to learn more."

Even a simple inquiry might stir up trouble. It was one thing for Savina to write, asking to buy her. It was quite another for Tavi to write, asking to set her free.

He was looking at her quizzically, and Arden had to say something. "Signor—I cannot tell you—believe me, I can't find the words—to describe what this means to me. It's so generous."

"Hardly," he answered. "You've earned it."

It was such a respectful response that she felt even worse. She resolved not to lie her way out of this, at least. "Signor, I can't accept, not right now. And I can't tell you why. But it's important that you let this be."

She did not like the way his expression changed into a suspicious frown. She clung to her decision not to lie and drew strength from it. "I'm sorry," she said. "If it helps—Mena knows what's going on. There are reasons I can tell her and not you. She'll vouch for me."

He nodded slowly. "I'm disappointed, but I see no reason to press you—except for one thing. I must know enough to decide if you intend harm or dishonor to my family, or if this secret of yours may threaten them."

"On Kettenek's name, I swear I neither intend a threat to your family nor know of one," she said. "If that changes, I'll tell you."

"I want to believe you, and I regret the offense, but I need more than your word. You claimed not to know who owns you, and now you admit that you're keeping secrets—and my duty to my family must be my first concern. What facts can you tell me?"

"None."

"If you won't tell me anything, I'll need to keep investigating."

"Please don't press this, Signor. I've made promises. I won't break them."

They stared at each other—a stalemate. Finally Arden had an idea. "Let's call in Mena," she said.

They did. And it wasn't easy, but by the time they all left the room, Tavi had agreed to drop his inquiry.

He brought the matter up only once more. Just after dinner, he gave Arden a gift: his Amulet of Physical Resolve. "I hope it protects you, but also, I continue to feel that you've earned the right to be free. When the time is right, let this help buy your liberty."

Arden ran her fingers over the enchanted gem in its golden setting. "It'll be hard to sell such a memento of your thoughtfulness," she said, heartfelt, but she let her eyes twinkle at him as she continued, "but when the time is right… I'll manage it."

She hoped she was right in believing that his eyes twinkled back, a little.

###

Savina was fuming when Arden arrived to help her get ready for bed. "Would you believe!" she burst out. "Jan Kormick, going behind my back!"

Arden, who wasn't usually Savina's personal confidant, wasn't sure if this was directed at her or intended as a private monologue. She raised her eyebrows in a careful question.

Savina clenched a ladylike fist. "He wants to buy you! He sent letters home to Dar Und to make inquiries into who owned you and what it would cost to purchase you! Of all the nerve!"

Arden gave up and sank into a chair. "…the Justicar?" she asked weakly. "Are you sure you don't mean Signor Octavian?"

"WHAT?"


Arden told Savina only the basics: that Tavi had inquired about her owners, too. Savina turned a delicately outraged shade of pink.

"It seems your ownership has been quite the topic of research lately. But you are my concern. Mine. They both should ask me about you, not send letters behind my back. This is an insult."

Arden winced as she imagined Kormick’s inquiries. I will not be dragged back to Dar Und. Worse, if Kormick is writing to Undians about me, how much more could he learn…?

Savina saw her discomfort, but not what was beneath it. "Arden. Look at me."

Arden focused, with an effort, on her owner. –No. Her mistress. Her quasi-mistress. Her girl-she-was-supposed-to-be-serving-even-though-the-girl's-temple-was-just-borrowing-her.

Savina was looking at her with solicitude. "I have told you before, Arden, and I'm telling you again. The di Infusinos take care of our own. And as far as I'm concerned, that means it's my job to take care of you no matter what the technicalities are. All right? Now fetch me a cup of tea, light the small candles, and make sure you see to the hem of my silk blue cloak where it frayed, and then you may go to bed."

Wow! To have been a fly on the wall....

I find it odd that the question raised by that update that I'm most curious about is not the stuff with Arden's backstory or ownership or whatnot--it's what Kormick's motivation for trying to buy her is. Planning on freeing her, like Tavi? Trying to protect her secrets and avoid something risky by preventing Tavi from freeing her? Decided he wants to own a "murder-slave" of his own? Figured he could make a quick profit by reselling her to Savina?

Also, I find it very amusing that by acting in parallel, and thus establishing that Arden has multiple potential buyers, they have probably driven up the price and effectively transferred some of the party's wealth to the di Pientas. I guess that's the penalty they pay for engaging in the slave trade.

Cerebral Paladin said:

I find it odd that the question raised by that update that I'm most curious about is not the stuff with Arden's backstory or ownership or whatnot--it's what Kormick's motivation for trying to buy her is. Planning on freeing her, like Tavi? Trying to protect her secrets and avoid something risky by preventing Tavi from freeing her? Decided he wants to own a "murder-slave" of his own? Figured he could make a quick profit by reselling her to Savina?

Also, I find it very amusing that by acting in parallel, and thus establishing that Arden has multiple potential buyers, they have probably driven up the price and effectively transferred some of the party's wealth to the di Pientas. I guess that's the penalty they pay for engaging in the slave trade.

Click to expand...

As I read this, I heard Mena in the back of my head--unbidden--muttering something about "slavers" and "kidneys."

Cerebral Paladin said:

... the question raised by that update that I'm most curious about is not the stuff with Arden's backstory or ownership or whatnot--it's what Kormick's motivation for trying to buy her is.

Click to expand...

Kormick is the one person that I/Arden never talked to about this purchasing frenzy directly, so his motivations remained shadowy to her as well. I believe he told Savina offhandedly that King Lukas is always on the lookout for a good murder slave; whether that was his actual motivation or not didn't necessarily make Arden feel any better at the time. At the time we played this, she couldn't help being really fond of Kormick, and she wanted badly to trust him, but her distrust of Undians ran--and runs--deep.

Cerebral Paladin said:

Also, I find it very amusing that by acting in parallel, and thus establishing that Arden has multiple potential buyers, they have probably driven up the price and effectively transferred some of the party's wealth to the di Pientas. I guess that's the penalty they pay for engaging in the slave trade.

Click to expand...

*laughing out loud* That's brilliant.

Jenber said:

As I read this, I heard Mena in the back of my head--unbidden--muttering something about "slavers" and "kidneys."

Click to expand...

And this is one reason why Arden is glad to be friends with Mena, rather than the opposite. (The other reason is that she likes Mena. But that's less relevant here.)

Kuritaki said:

Wow! To have been a fly on the wall....

Click to expand...

Oh, how right you are! It was quite wonderful. To give you a sense of how this session went down, there was an awful lot of time when some subset of the group had disappeared into another room of the house to conference, while the rest of us sat and chatted (sometimes in, sometimes out of character). At one point Twiggy and Kormick had a very interesting philosophical discussion about the difference between justice and revenge, and the role of law and religion in each. At another point, there were three subgroups going on...none of whom had any idea what was happening with the others. I, in fact, didn't learn all of what transpired between Arden, Tavi, and Mena until Ilex wrote up this update -- which led to the following DVD Extra scene, which slots in shortly after Arden, Tavi, and Mena had had their conference...

After dinner, Twiggy stormed into Tavi’s room. She was riled up, and for nearly the first time in her life, she was willing to be genuinely, intentionally, insubordinate.

“Savina is trying to buy Arden,” she said.

“So I hear,” replied Tavi.

“Arden has given us so much,” Twiggy burst out, “and not just because she’s had to. We’ve trusted her with our lives and she’s earned that trust. I consider her a friend. She should have the ability to make her own decisions and own her own property. She should own herself, just as we all own ourselves.” She paused for breath. “You should make that happen.”

Tavi shook his head slowly. “I . . . do not disagree.”

“But . . .” Twiggy felt petulant and helpless. She had . . . won? But Tavi didn’t seem to be doing anything about it. He certainly wasn’t telling her anything. It was clear that the matter was closed. But why? Twiggy grumbled back to her room feeling as petulant as ever.

Click to expand...

It wasn't until months of gameplay later that Twiggy (or I) found out from Arden what Tavi had done...and only a few days ago that we learned all of what transpired in that room. It's not just Ilex who's playing a deep game!

25x03

WEEK 9 | MONDAY

At the end of another long day of practice, Nyoko was finding it hard to summon the mood of spontaneous sensuality required for the Dance of the Sevenfold Secrets. The dance master was not helping matters as he stared at her critically, unmoved by her sinuous movements. Her rival Unsuku, smirking among a few other onlookers from the room's corner, was merely the clincher.

Savina was sitting among the onlookers, too. She had come to the Adept House today with the goal of seeking secret Alirrian Handmaidens among the Adepts who specialized in … well, in the very arts Nyoko's dance was supposed to be celebrating. She'd disappeared into the depths of the House for the afternoon, and had now reappeared in the rehearsal room accompanied by a handsome young Adept.

As Nyoko twirled past them, she saw that Savina's companion was tracing his finger in soft spirals up and down Savina’s bare arm. On her second twirl, Nyoko saw Savina whisper giggling into the man's ear and then kiss his earlobe.

She wanted to ask Savina how her day had gone, but when she twirled around again in the dance's last pirouette, she only caught a glimpse of the vanishing couple as Savina led the man out of the room by the hand…

At least her dance was having the desired effect on somebody. Or else Savina had found herself at least one Handmaiden. Or both.

TUESDAY

As she walked to the marketplace, Twiggy thought about how odd it was that, as her stratagem for finagling an invitation to the Indulgence party, she’d chosen to pose as a maker of intoxicating substances. When she’d suggested it, it had seemed natural—her father had taught her about various intoxicating herbs, primarily to warn her away from eating them—but now she realized that at some point she might be expected to partake of such substances. She’d never done that before, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. What if I became intoxicated and said the wrong thing? Or did something to harm the di Raprezzis? It was the sort of risk she’d spent her entire life avoiding.

But she had started down this road, and she’d see it through. Plus, she had an idea about mixing arcana with the botany her father had taught her, and she wanted to see if it would work. She pushed open the door to the apothecary she’d found the week before.

“Welcome back, Lady Twiggy-san,” said the shopkeeper with the knowing smirk.

WEDNESDAY

"…so, in sum, I'm asking you to release the wrestler we arrested for cheating."

Kormick, confident that he'd made his case, leaned back, smiled at Mena and Arden, and waited for Chief Inquisitor Yudai to agree with him.

"I thought you served Kettenek yourself, after the heathen fashion," said the austere man from across his austere desk in his austere office.

"Absolutely," Kormick agreed, not sure where this was going—but sure that his confidence had been premature. Here comes another round of Sovereign passive-aggression.

"Then I must be mistaken. It sounded to me like you were asking us to release a known criminal before he has paid for his crime."

"As I said, I want to get him released as a goodwill gesture for his bosses in the Eighths."

"Is showing goodwill toward a criminal gang standard procedure for honoring Kettenek's aspect as God of Law and Justice, Kormick-san?"

Mena's armor began emitting the faintest impatient growl, so soft that Kormick trusted Yudai would never hear it. When Mena spoke, her voice was simply cool and professorial.

"Inquisitor Yudai-san," she said, "there is a story about two men who wanted to feed their families with fish. The first caught a small fish, took it home, and his children went to bed hungry. The second caught a small fish, used it as bait to catch a much bigger fish, and his children ate for two days."

Yudai looked thoughtful. The silence stretched out.

"In Dame Mena's analogy, the cheating wrestler is the small fish," Kormick clarified.

"I understand."

"The Eighth bosses are the big—"

"Yes."

"Justice is served by catching the big—"

"Yes, I've grasped that; I'll release the man."

"Kettenek and I thank you."

"Justice is not served unless this pays off," said Yudai. "I'll expect results."

"We're not leaving Cauldron without results, trust me," Kormick said, and turned to Arden. "Murder-slave, go tell our friends in the Eighths that I've taken care of the little matter of the wrestler from Ehkt's Judgment. Sell it."

"Yes, boss," Arden answered mischievously in that flawless fake Undian accent. I don't care what Savina says, Kormick thought. Arden's coming to work with me someday.

Arden slipped out ahead of them as Kormick turned to Mena. "Come along, Dame Mena," he said. "Let's go free the perfidious malefactor you pantsed."

"So many men who deserve pantsing, so little time," said Mena. It was either a threat or a promise, Kormick wasn't sure, but he was happy either way.

THURSDAY

In his ongoing effort to become recognized as a man of extreme tastes, Tavi steeled his nerves and knocked on the unmarked door before him. This didn't look much like a restaurant, but that was the point. He'd decided to focus on food this week, and his earlier inquiries had led him to The Establishment of Great Dining Pleasures, The Oldest and Most Distinguished Restaurant on the Top Ring, and the Eatery of Exquisite Culinary Delights. While they'd all been delicious enough, they'd also all been elegant and refined. Phoebe had nearly keeled over with boredom. Well, that ends tonight, Tavi thought. Nyoko had helped him get the inside scoop on this place—supposedly a secret to all but the most daring diners in Cauldron.

He wasn't looking forward to it. This was either going to be boring or painful. At least, if it's painful, I'll be doing my job right, he reassured himself.

And it'll be so much more interesting!, added Phoebe.

Not comforting, Pheebs.

A peephole on the door slid open and a forbidding face studied him closely—and then appeared to recognize him. The door opened and the doorman bowed him forward, saying, "Welcome, honored heathen-san, to the Room of Rare Tastes. You grace us with your famous presence."

Tavi nodded, stepped inside, and instantly felt better about this adventure. The room was dim and smoky, yet the warm firelight and buzz of conversation radiated friendliness. The walls were covered over with animal trophies and seals from sake bottles, some of which Tavi recognized from his lessons with Nyoko as very fine indeed. Chefs were scattered throughout the room, grilling meat over charcoal burners in front of guests at their low tables. The doorman escorted Tavi to a table of his own and a server asked what he wanted.

"Whatever you've got that was most recently killed in the Ketkath," said Tavi, aiming for exoticism and praying that this didn't turn out like that last exfoliation session at the Adept House.

The server grinned. Not long afterwards, Tavi was sampling rare steak from an electric-antlered blue deer, sipping fantastic sake, sharing his adventures with an admiring crowd, and enjoying himself immensely.

FRIDAY

Nyoko, covered in sweat and aching in every muscle, wanted nothing more than a warm bath and a body rub. It had been a grueling rehearsal, but she was approaching the level of precision required by her instructor. Given a few more weeks, she should have the Dance of the Sevenfold Secrets down cold… assuming that they had a few more weeks before the Indulgence Party.

She was about to enter the bathing chamber when Unsuku stepped around a corner right in front of her. Nyoko jumped.

“I hope this is not a discommodious time,” Unsuku said, with a gracious smile.

To anyone but an Adept, it would have seemed only polite inquiry. But to an Adept, to one so accustomed to reading nuance, every element of Unsuku’s body language was positioned to indicate disrespect, contempt, and condescension. The tilt of her head, the width of her feet, the curl of her fingers. In most people, it might be dismissed as carelessness, an unconscious physical expression of buried emotions. But Unsuku was an Adept. What’s more, she was a dancer. The precise carriage of every muscle should be second nature to her.

No, this was a calculated insult, designed to be subtle. To force Nyoko off guard and off balance.

I’ve really ticked her off, Nyoko mused.

Fortunately, they were both Adepts. They could both play this game. Nyoko smiled and adopted a poise of perfect courtesy. “Of course not,” she replied. “It is never discommodious to do a favor for a fellow Adept.”

And then she batted her eyes sweetly.

This would have appeared utterly innocuous to almost any observer. To an Adept, however, it was the physical equivalent to adding a very unkind word to the end of her sentence.

Unsuku continued smiling pleasantly, but the twitch of her upper lip appended a similar unkind word. “I know what you’re doing,” was all she said aloud.

“Taking a bath?” Nyoko responded. “I am pleased to know you are familiar with the process.” Because I had my doubts, she added with her body language.

This time Unsuku did not rise to the bait. Her smile just deepened… and there was a hint of malice attached to it. “I know you and those heathens are trying to go the Long Way around the Circle,” she hissed.

Nyoko’s blood froze, and she strained not to let it show in any aspect of her bearing. It was vital that their mission remain a secret from the Priesthood. If word leaked, the Priesthood would apply pressure to the Inquisition and it would all be over…

“Why would we do such a thing?” Nyoko asked.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. But I have eyes and I have ears and I have many, many friends. You and the heathens have been up to any number of strange things. It’s not hard to put it all together… if anyone was actually interested enough in you to ask the right questions.”

Nyoko said nothing, not trusting herself not to give anything away.

“You’re obviously targeting the Priesthood,” Unsuku said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. And since I assume you don’t want me to inform them of your activities, I suggest, with all due respect” (and her body language indicated just how little respect that was) “that you accede to my wishes.”

Stay calm, Nyoko thought. Admit nothing and buy time to confer with the others.

“Assuming your silence is of value to me, what would you want?” Harlot, she added physically.

“Ten thousand in gold…” Unsuku said.

Nyoko’s jaw dropped. That was practically a Governor’s ransom. But Unsuku continued.

“…and you. Never. Dance. Again.”

And her body language added, you talentless hack.

###

Nyoko walked to the group's table at the back of the Inn, now wanting nothing more than a stiff drink.

She slid into a chair. Kormick was holding forth while Savina and Twiggy listened intently.

"...and I look forward to the day when everyone sees Dar Und as equal to Pol Henna."

Savina smiled skeptically. "I think it's lovely that you want to make your home a better place, Jan," she allowed, "but to equal Pol Henna? How could that be possible?"

"After all," chimed in Twiggy, "Pol Henna at least has a stable government, strong trade agreements..."

"Yes, yes," agreed Kormick, unperturbed. "But you're all so obsessed with class and etiquette and rank—almost as bad as these Sovereigns—and so you don't have any individual potential, any freedom of choice. In Dar Und, it's different, and that's what will make us great. In Dar Und, you earn your life by your own knife."

Savina and Twiggy didn't seem impressed.

"Or by your own con artistry," Kormick added. "Or your own skills at arson, your own blackmail—"

Nyoko leaned forward and cut in. "Funny you should mention blackmail," she said.

That got their attention.

"It's Unsuku," Nyoko continued. "The Adept who's angry at me for upstaging her." Nyoko told them about Unsuku's threats, finding it surprisingly hard to do so dispassionately. This betrayal felt like it came from her own family, a heartbreaking thought. As she concluded, her voice even shook a little: "She said she'll expose us if I don't give her ten thousand in gold and—and—"

"Take your time," said Savina.

Nyoko took a deep breath and rushed the words out.

"—and if I don't stop dancing." There, she'd said it. And she hadn't known how much she loved dancing until she found herself near tears now at the thought of losing it.

"That's—that's terrible!" said Savina.

"So," added Twiggy wryly, "now we know that Unsuku has no talent and no tact." Her voice grew serious as she started thinking things through. "We can't let her get away with this—if the Priesthood learns of our plan too early, it will ruin all our hard work and the Tide might never be stopped. What are we going to do about it?"

"Not to worry—we have many choices," said Kormick. "There's the quiet solution"—he mimed slitting a throat—"and the not-quiet solution"—he mimed bashing a skull with a warhammer.

"Jan!" exclaimed Savina.

"I'm joking, mostly joking…"

"Whatever we do, it needs to be quick," Nyoko told them, "because if I don't give her what she wants by tomorrow at noon, she's going public."

26x01

The room was silent. There was a draft coming in from somewhere that hit the back of Nyoko’s neck and made the hair on her arms stand up. She felt Savina’s comforting hand on her shoulder.

“We throw her in the lake,” Kormick suggested.

“Or we call her bluff,” Tavi said. “Maybe she doesn’t have the proof she claims to have.”

Nyoko shook her head. “She has enough. If she told the Priesthood the same things she told me, the Mother Superior would end this Inquest without a second thought.”

“So we co-opt her,” Twiggy offered. “We make it worth her while not to tell.”

“Other than giving her exactly what she wants, how do we do that?” Nyoko asked.

Together, the group developed a plan. Nyoko felt uncomfortable; she wished there were a way to solve this without having to rely on others. But by the end, she was willing to proceed.

“So it’s decided,” Savina said. “And the sooner we succeed, the sooner we’ll all be out of Cauldron, and on our way to Divine Mark.”

“The sooner we’ll all be out of Cauldron?” Nyoko asked. “You mean me too?”

“I just assumed you'd come with us,” Savina replied. “You're kind of like family.”

Like family, Nyoko thought. She had always thought of the Adepts as family—they were the only family she’d had, since she was barely old enough to remember. But Savina was right; in a way, this curious group of heathens had become like family. She hadn’t thought of leaving Cauldron again, not really, but was there anyone in Cauldron who would say what Savina just said? Nyoko’s eyes clouded, and she blinked, and blinked again. To the heathens, she was sure, it merely looked like she blinked a lot. But Nyoko was an Adept, and those blinks were as close as an Adept ever got to bawling.

###

Unsuku had been angry. Now she was worried.

For many years, she’d had a good thing going here in Cauldron. She had been the Governor of her own little Province. As the premiere Adept dancer in the city, she was respected, admired, and desired. She was paid handsomely for her skills on the dance floor, and even more handsomely for her skills in, ahem, other arenas. And since those other arenas were a side business, she was not required to hand over any of those earnings to the Adept Chapterhouse. By the time her Five Year vows were up, she would be able to retire in a luxury rare for someone not of the Peerage, performing (in either arena) only as she saw fit to maintain her wealth, power, and reputation.

And then Nyoko came along.

Unsuku had never taken any notice of Nyoko before. She was Lord Masa’s little protégé, and had never shown any real interest in Dance. She had never been a threat, and so Unsuku had never paid her any attention.

Until Masa had asked the little rat to dance the Dance of Sedellus. Unsuku had been expecting to dance that part herself. She’d been counting on it. Public exposure was critical for her. But instead, all the noteworthies of Cauldron had seen Nyoko dance. And they had loved her. Loved her! How dare they love her? Unsuku had spotted almost half a dozen glaring errors in poise and finger positioning, but no one else seemed to notice or care.

And because of that performance, Nyoko was asked to perform in her stead at Lord Tanaka’s Indulgence Party, one of the most lucrative events of Unsuku’s year. That was the final straw. Nyoko was usurping Unsuku’s rightful place and brazenly stealing her patrons. That simply could not be allowed to stand.

So Unsuku had taken action.

Some might consider blackmail an ugly word, but Unsuku considered it an effective one.

She didn’t really care what Nyoko and the heathens were up to or why, or what effect informing the Mother Superior on them would have. All she wanted was what was rightfully hers. That, and to make it clear—to Nyoko and everyone else—who the premiere Adept dancer in Cauldron was.

And so she had not, in any way, expected to be summoned before the Inquisition.

It was only then that Unsuku began to wonder if maybe she ought to have cared a bit more about what Nyoko and her heathens were up to and why.

Unsuku was led into the Hall of the Inquisition, past a row of offices, and into a side hallway with an unassuming door. Nyoko was waiting there for her, along with the heathens. All looked at her with hostility.

“I have taken precautions, you know,” Unsuku said, determined not to let them see how unsettled she was. “If anything happens to me, if I die or disappear. . . your plan goes straight to the Mother Superior.”

One of the heathens rolled her eyes. Unsuku couldn’t be certain, but it seemed for a moment as if her armor hissed as she did so.

The door opened. Unsuku entered, followed by the heathens. It was a small room, containing a makeshift divan surrounded by papers. Lord Ono was propped up on an elbow on the divan, reading something.

He did not appear nearly as sick as she had heard.

“Unsuku, I presume,” he said.

She nodded.

“My Inquest is in need of an additional Adept to bear Witness,” Lord Ono said. “They have specifically requested you.”

Unsuku blinked.

Unsuku’s mind raced as Lord Ono filled her in on the details of the Inquest. As much as she detested Nyoko, it was, she had to admit, a brilliant move. If she became an official part of the Inquest, everything she had planned to blackmail Nyoko with would be protected under Witness. As an Adept, she would be bound not to reveal what she knew—and whatever else Unsuku was, she was still an Adept. The leverage she held over Nyoko would be lost.

“Anyone who helps us will surely gain the favorable attention of Lady Akiko-san,” said one of the heathens.

“And anyone who hinders us will gain Lady Akiko-san’s attention, as well,” said another.

Unsuku’s mind slid past the threat and thought the story forward. The group would report its findings to Lady Akiko-san, the overall Head of the Inquisition, in Divine Mark… who is also the Lord High Regent’s heir. A chance to be cast as the mentor who taught Nyoko everything she knew… to come to the attention of the woman who would soon be the Lord High Regent… to entice the notice of the Peerage of Divine Mark…

Nyoko was welcome to be the premiere dancer in Cauldron. Unsuku would be the premiere dancer in all of the Sovereignty.

This was much better than blackmail.

Well… almost. There was one thing missing…

Unsuku listened quietly as Lord Ono finished explaining the situation. “I will accept your offer,” Unsuku said, fixing her gaze on Lord Ono, “on one condition. I will be the Chief Witness on these proceedings, and Nyoko will be my junior.”

Off to the side, she heard Nyoko’s intake of breath, and knew that she had struck home.

“That doesn’t make sense,” one of the heathen girls said. “Nyoko has been Witnessing this Inquest since the beginning, she should have seniority—“

“That is the point, Twiggy-san,” Nyoko said. “She wishes to force me into a subordinate role. It is not intended to make sense. It is intended to put me in my place.”

Unsuku said nothing.

“Oh,” the heathen said. “Well then… I guess, Nyoko, it’s up to you.”

The heathens all looked at Nyoko, who did not take her eyes off Unsuku. You would let the Affirmation fail, her body language said. You would see the will of the Lord High Regent defied, just to get back at me?

And I’d smile while I did it, Unsuku’s body language replied.

Nyoko held her gaze. For a moment, just a moment, Unsuku began to wonder if she had pushed too far…

How sad you are, Nyoko said with her body, but her mouth said “Fine.”

Unsuku smiled.

“Excellent,” she said. “Then as Chief Witness, I believe it is Nyoko’s duty to convey to me everything she has so far seen…”

DM’s Note: Okay, yeah, so I totally expected them to throw Unsuku in the lake to shut her up. Or stick her in a cell in the basement of the Inquisition next to Kameo. I had her all statted out for a big fight as a funky, shifty solo skirmisher.

I did not, under any circumstance, expect them to turn her into a Party NPC.

Which actually worked out great, as she was a lot of fun to play. But the moral here is, as usual, to never, never, never underestimate the desire of my players to avoid violent solutions…

Which actually worked out great, as she was a lot of fun to play. But the moral here is, as usual, to never, never, never underestimate the desire of my players to avoid violent solutions…

Click to expand...

I know the feeling all too well. DnD Fourth, Shadowrun and, as of recently, Zeitgeist; the lengths that my players will go to in order to resolve situations non-violently is impressive! Not that I'm complaining! It's a lot more fun RPing the negotiations and skullduggery than it is a straight up knock down fight!

ellinor said:

DM’s Note: Okay, yeah, so I totally expected them to throw Unsuku in the lake to shut her up. Or stick her in a cell in the basement of the Inquisition next to Kameo. I had her all statted out for a big fight as a funky, shifty solo skirmisher.

I did not, under any circumstance, expect them to turn her into a Party NPC.

Click to expand...

You mean throwing her in the lake was a viable option!?! I totally would have gotten behind that!