Jago Presents
Starring
@River Song as Giovanni Bellini Antonello da Messina, The Artistic Duelist
@Shayuri as Arcata, The Mage Incognita
@KahlessNestor as The Magdalena, The Maker’s Seventh Maiden
@VLAD the Destroyer as Lucien Sharp, The Stormborn Corsair
@Thateous as Federigo Celini, The Gladiator Seeking Redemption
@tglassyas Nicolo, The Inquiring Master of The Elements
@pathfinderq1 as Jilliana del Holtzinn, The Arcane Inventor
In the Five Hundred Years after The Harrowing, an event which nearly destroyed all the progress of thought and knowledge, the world’s heartbeat continues to tick onwards. Despite the near cataclysmic loss of magic and the destruction of the old, feudal ways, civilization begins to thrive. Men and women of all stripes study in magnificent universities, erected with the most advanced forms of architecture, learning to cure the body and mind, to create metals that do not break, and how to start fires with which to melt them. City-States grow in size and power to rival one another as Guilds compete for prominence within them. The ancient lineages and families jealously guard their status against the newly rich, silk, spice, and coin now being able to buy what only name alone used to grant.
The Harrowing is over. The Upheaval of The Renaissance has begun.
The Discussion Thread
The Cast List
A Guide to Fossice
We open our story in The Serene Republic of Ulivo’s capital of Fossice: a city where the merchants proclaim you can find anything, even the unobtainable. She rests easy at the end of the mighty Garbato River, the peaks of the silver Celestinas behind her as you approach past The Hook. In the glint of the morning sunlight, she is beautiful: a cascade of gentle terracotta and turquoise rooftops, laying like so many shells atop white, brick buildings, reflect within the cerulean waters in her embrace, playing the trick that the city extends into the very domain of the sea itself. She might as well have, for her many seeds dominate the harbor, connected by mighty bridges built by industrious dwarves, designed by clever gnomes, with stones carved by elven artisans of tough material thought up by human engineers. Her bridges connected her as much as it did these many disparate peoples, their differences set aside for the love and respect of their beautiful city. Here, once, there was nothing more than destroyed earth and the rush of seawater to fill in the scar left by hubris; now look at her. Blessed by The Maker, that wonderful being’s people had come together to reclaim that which had been lost.
Banners of turquoise and cream flap gently in the breeze rolling through the harbor, whispering playfully through the crowded, bustling streets of Central Fossice. Upon those tapestries is emblazoned the crest of Fossice: a golden dragon curled about a silver anchor, denoting the city’s prominence in both trade and her power upon the sea. Indeed, those approaching via the famous Hook were likely to see the drydocks and Arsenal just beyond her glassy tip, where sat a trio of Carracks of the Ulivoan Navy. Their gun ports were opened away from the city, towards the entrance of The Hook, as if a message; “Look upon our power! See what you face should you bring war here!”
Within Central Fossice, this morning brought the commotion and calamity of the market opening: the pennants hoisted above the many stalls and shops were an indication that the Merchant Fleet had come in overnight and that the shelves and stores were now packed to the brim with everything that existed under The Sun. Strange fruits and materials that felt like the lightest cloth were displayed under tarps of brilliant colors, all claiming to hail from strange places over the sea. Beleaguered painters desperately tried to sell off their copies of the latest works of Motticello and Rachele for a pittance of the cost of a master’s canvas. A Half-Elf of Northern origin stood atop a wooden box, announcing news from all across the rest of D’Argenta, as well as the decrees of The Senate of The City. Apparently, a larger tariff was being imposed on goods from Torisco, no doubt a consequence of that State’s more aggressive acquisition of the lucrative South Sea trade routes, not that that mattered much to the merchants. No, for their part, this messenger was met with raucous jeering as his words announced a massive cut into their profits. The herald, for his part, only choked on his words thrice, but the armored guards nearby deterred anyone from doing anything exceptionally foolish.
It was through these streets, these busy streets of commercialism and communication, that our heroes found themselves in on their own accounts. Several had worked together in the past, for a fast friend is Fossice often became a fond friend, as the saying went.
Nicolo, for his part, was frustrated in his own, serener way. The Old Tower was surely the bulwark towards further Enlightenment, cordoned off as if one of the Sacred Daughters of The Maker. Despite his relationship within The Church, someone or something deemed to keep him from learning more of the strange abilities he wielded. Thankfully, finally, he had an in: a Gnome, a curious Gnome by the name of Jilliana, who had left The Church but was still on friendly terms with the clergy. She had heard of his strange talents and, inquisitive as to what The Maker had done to gift such esoteric blessings to one of her monks, had saw fit to contact the wayward student with an offer of help to get inside the building. It may not result in the most legal avenue, but legality was the providence of mortals, not The Maker.
There was something else nagging at Jilliana, though. Certain others of the del Holzinn Clan within The Guild Arcane had been talking about something that had gone wrong in their last experiment. While they were not directly involved, their large ears could not help but overhear some of the administrators being rather frustrated over “how she got away”. The fleeing scion of her family, Arcata had indeed fled from the awful things The Guild attempted to do to her. While they had a reputation of being bumbling neophytes in the arts of magic and alchemy, the ones this innate magician encountered were nothing of the sort. They were cruel in their progressivism, willing to push any boundary in their thirst for knowledge. Maybe, just maybe, they didn’t realize what they were doing to her, but Arcata knew for a fact that she could not go back. Not at all.
The streets of Fossice were like a maze to her: packed, loud, and with a rhythm as indescribable as her own powers. Men tried to hawk their jewelry upon her with shallow flattery, a woman garbed in the finest of velvet simply shoved past her with a derogatory comment, but none of that currently mattered: What mattered was the name Lucien. A foreigner to these parts, but supposedly a man who knew the waters of D’Argenta like she knew the olive gardens of her manor. All she had heard so far was that he was a navigator of sorts and, for the right price, was willing to move dangerous thing. Was she not something dangerous as well? Of course, there was the matter of where he was staying.
Lucien Sharp needed a ship. That much was certain. That his own had been taken from him by the bastards he had entrusted with it was no small pain to bear: a man of his occupation without a ship, well, they might as well have taken his manhood with it! Unfortunately, the Arsenal of Fossice was not exactly the place one looked to commit an act of piracy. The guns on those Carracks would blow any ne’er-do-wells out of the water the moment an alarm was raised: Lucien knew precisely how accurate these D’Argentan guns could be compared to those from his homeland. However, there might have been another way: people in Fossice were resourceful, and a sharp wit could go about as far as gold in some places. For such a tongue, one need look no farther than Giovanni da Messina: word was he had the ear of several prominent members of The Senate (and had perhaps held some other parts of the more beautiful Senators as well, if he were to be believed). A series of dispatches between Giovanni and Lucien had arranged a suitable meeting place at the market in Central Fossice, near the Herald’s stand: the crowds would cover their plotting admirably.
And yet, Giovanni was not exactly safe within his city either. No, it was not the scorned lovers that came from him: that was no risk, but a challenge to “make amends”. Neither was it the husbands of those wronged, for Giovanni’s swordplay was equally skillful on the cobblestone streets as it was in the many boudoirs of the spurned housewives and daughters. Instead, it was something worse: The Thieves’ Guild. It was less than one week ago that Giovanni had found one of their members accosting one of Paulina’s girls in a manner most unbefitting a gentleman. He had announced his displeasure with such crassness, the Thief had further confirmed just how crass he was, and a quick bout ended in a dead cutpurse. It seemed that this was not the end of it.
A reformed member of the guild, a Dwarf by the name of Federigo, had sought out Giovanni and informed him of a plot upon his life. The man he had killed was none other than Dominiccio Salvatore diBellama: the son of the current head of The Thieves’ Guild. While not normally a very violent organization, this was not a slander they could afford to turn their cheek to. With plans to eliminate Giovanni as an example (a painful one at that) of those who crossed their band of pickpockets and bandits, Federigo had caught wind of the plot from an old accomplice. More than that, he rather enjoyed some of Giovanni’s paintings: La Dea sulla Baia al Chiaro diLuna was a particularly eyecatching piece of The Maker, though no one would ever see it displayed in a Church. Through some underground connections, Federigo knew that Giovanni was meeting someone in the market square today: it may very well have been the assassin.
There was another meeting bound to take place, and poor Arcata was not out of this twisting conspiracy just yet. Neither, however, was a counterpart of hers. The Seventh to bear the title, an auspicious number within The Maker’s realms, the pale woman had received a letter with the mark of The Witchguard upon it. An assignment. She had opened it with the same formality as any other, but this one was different, for the script was not the stilted scratching of her unnamed superiors, but instead the flowing, beautiful pen of her lost lover, Romeo Montuletti: the man she had given her freedom that he might live. A thousand and one questions raced at how, how he could have used the seal of such a sacred order, how he could have gotten such a message to her, but the flourishes of his quill, the idiosyncrasies of language that only she would understand, the fact that it was addressed to her name, not her title … There could be little doubt. It came from him. He was alive and well, but also possibly in great danger to have forged such a document. The messenger who delivered it had vanished as quickly as the note was in her hands, and the note was clear: There was a woman she was not to kill, but save. Blonde, fair skinned, a noble if the letter was to be believed, whom had suffered at the hands of The Guild Arcane. The evidence was spotty, but it left a name, Arcata, and an instruction, to find her and get her away from Fossice.
Through The Maker’s guidance, these players find their stage within Central Fossice in the middle of the Market Square, for The Maker has been known to favor convenience for her plans. It is at this moment that a hustling guard shoves through the crowd around The Herald and hands him a scroll before nearly collapsing, out of breath from the heavy breastplate and helmet he bears. While his fellow soldiers tend to him and fetch wine from a nearby vendor, the Herald unfurls the vellum and reads with a booming voice.
” People of Fossice! It has been discovered by The Republican Guard that a Break-In has occurred at The Old Tower! The Senate has noted that the land around The Tower is now off-limits to all but those in their direct service. Trespassers will be slain on sight. Furthermore, all travel from the city is now being restricted: ships are docked until further notice, and the gates shall be closed as well until the culprit is caught!”
The news has the projected response; a near riot breaks out as merchants and many others have just heard that their livelihoods are threatened all because of the villainy of a common thief. However, those not blinded by anger would know it would take more than “common” to steal anything from such a secure library. The Church kept knowledge in there, dangerous knowledge: what could one possibly want?
Not that it mattered to the assembled. The screams had risen into a chorus of rage, more guards arriving to quell the gathering before it escalated into a riot. For his part, The Herald was escorted away from the market with all haste, a piece of a brick flying through the air and striking him in the back of the head. A small cheer went up from the assembly at their meaningless justice being served, even as they were further hemmed in and pushed back with halberds and the threat of firearms. Though it took some work, the crowd was eventually dispersed with much grumbling and anger, but it was fruitless: Fossice was locked down, and it would take a miracle to open her up again.
[sblock=A Summary]Nicolo – You are trying to get into The Old Tower. A Gnome named Jilliana del Holtzinn has contacted you with an offer to get you in if you’ll allow her to study your unique magic.
Jilliana – You have extended an offer to help Niccolo into The Old Tower, but have also heard of some type of calamity from The Guild Arcane’s guildhouse nearby it: apparently someone or something has escaped, and several of the Arcane Headmasters are sweating over it.
Arcata – In attempting to flee from Fossice, you’ve heard of a ship captain named Lucien Sharpe, whom you are trying to make an arrangement with to get out of the city as fast as possible.
Lucien – Without a ship, you are stranded here. You’ve reached out to a Giovanni da Messina, who supposedly has government contacts that may be able to help you.
Giovanni – You’ve heard a foreigner is in need of a ship, and you’re to arrange a way for them to secure one. You were also in a duel with a member of The Thieves’ Guild a week ago, whom you killed for attempting to sexually assault one of Paulina’s prostitutes.
Federigo – You’ve caught wind that the man Giovanni killed was the son of the head of The Thieves’ Guild. You’re trying to warn him that they plan to assassinate him, partially out of redemption, partially because Giovanni is actually quite a good painter and it’d be a shame to lose that talent.
The Magdalena – You’ve received a letter bearing the seal of The Witchguard, but it heavily appears to be from your lover, Romeo Montuletti. The letter asks you to find a woman named Arcata, who is on the run from The Guild Arcana, and help her escape.
All of You – A notice has been read that The Old Tower has had a break-in and something was stolen. Until further notice, The Tower is off limits unless you are directly working with The Senate on the matter. All ships are to remain in harbor, and the gates are closed to Fossice as the city enters lockdown until the thief is caught.[/sblock]
[sblock=A Note for All]Though I have included connections here for you all to relate to one another, please feel free to edit and adjust these as necessary. Perhaps The Magdelana is already familiar with Arcata and her family, or maybe Nicolo and The Magdalena have met previously on Church business. Maybe Arcata has seen Giovanni’s paintings back at her villa, or Lucien and Federigo have gone smuggling together in the past. These are your stories, and all I am here for is to provide the framework.[/sblock]
The Light of Civilization
A Renaissance Story
A Renaissance Story
Starring
@River Song as Giovanni Bellini Antonello da Messina, The Artistic Duelist
@Shayuri as Arcata, The Mage Incognita
@KahlessNestor as The Magdalena, The Maker’s Seventh Maiden
@VLAD the Destroyer as Lucien Sharp, The Stormborn Corsair
@Thateous as Federigo Celini, The Gladiator Seeking Redemption
@tglassyas Nicolo, The Inquiring Master of The Elements
@pathfinderq1 as Jilliana del Holtzinn, The Arcane Inventor
In the Five Hundred Years after The Harrowing, an event which nearly destroyed all the progress of thought and knowledge, the world’s heartbeat continues to tick onwards. Despite the near cataclysmic loss of magic and the destruction of the old, feudal ways, civilization begins to thrive. Men and women of all stripes study in magnificent universities, erected with the most advanced forms of architecture, learning to cure the body and mind, to create metals that do not break, and how to start fires with which to melt them. City-States grow in size and power to rival one another as Guilds compete for prominence within them. The ancient lineages and families jealously guard their status against the newly rich, silk, spice, and coin now being able to buy what only name alone used to grant.
The Harrowing is over. The Upheaval of The Renaissance has begun.
The Discussion Thread
The Cast List
A Guide to Fossice
For those pressed for time, we offer a synopsis below.
We open our story in The Serene Republic of Ulivo’s capital of Fossice: a city where the merchants proclaim you can find anything, even the unobtainable. She rests easy at the end of the mighty Garbato River, the peaks of the silver Celestinas behind her as you approach past The Hook. In the glint of the morning sunlight, she is beautiful: a cascade of gentle terracotta and turquoise rooftops, laying like so many shells atop white, brick buildings, reflect within the cerulean waters in her embrace, playing the trick that the city extends into the very domain of the sea itself. She might as well have, for her many seeds dominate the harbor, connected by mighty bridges built by industrious dwarves, designed by clever gnomes, with stones carved by elven artisans of tough material thought up by human engineers. Her bridges connected her as much as it did these many disparate peoples, their differences set aside for the love and respect of their beautiful city. Here, once, there was nothing more than destroyed earth and the rush of seawater to fill in the scar left by hubris; now look at her. Blessed by The Maker, that wonderful being’s people had come together to reclaim that which had been lost.
Banners of turquoise and cream flap gently in the breeze rolling through the harbor, whispering playfully through the crowded, bustling streets of Central Fossice. Upon those tapestries is emblazoned the crest of Fossice: a golden dragon curled about a silver anchor, denoting the city’s prominence in both trade and her power upon the sea. Indeed, those approaching via the famous Hook were likely to see the drydocks and Arsenal just beyond her glassy tip, where sat a trio of Carracks of the Ulivoan Navy. Their gun ports were opened away from the city, towards the entrance of The Hook, as if a message; “Look upon our power! See what you face should you bring war here!”
Within Central Fossice, this morning brought the commotion and calamity of the market opening: the pennants hoisted above the many stalls and shops were an indication that the Merchant Fleet had come in overnight and that the shelves and stores were now packed to the brim with everything that existed under The Sun. Strange fruits and materials that felt like the lightest cloth were displayed under tarps of brilliant colors, all claiming to hail from strange places over the sea. Beleaguered painters desperately tried to sell off their copies of the latest works of Motticello and Rachele for a pittance of the cost of a master’s canvas. A Half-Elf of Northern origin stood atop a wooden box, announcing news from all across the rest of D’Argenta, as well as the decrees of The Senate of The City. Apparently, a larger tariff was being imposed on goods from Torisco, no doubt a consequence of that State’s more aggressive acquisition of the lucrative South Sea trade routes, not that that mattered much to the merchants. No, for their part, this messenger was met with raucous jeering as his words announced a massive cut into their profits. The herald, for his part, only choked on his words thrice, but the armored guards nearby deterred anyone from doing anything exceptionally foolish.
It was through these streets, these busy streets of commercialism and communication, that our heroes found themselves in on their own accounts. Several had worked together in the past, for a fast friend is Fossice often became a fond friend, as the saying went.
Nicolo, for his part, was frustrated in his own, serener way. The Old Tower was surely the bulwark towards further Enlightenment, cordoned off as if one of the Sacred Daughters of The Maker. Despite his relationship within The Church, someone or something deemed to keep him from learning more of the strange abilities he wielded. Thankfully, finally, he had an in: a Gnome, a curious Gnome by the name of Jilliana, who had left The Church but was still on friendly terms with the clergy. She had heard of his strange talents and, inquisitive as to what The Maker had done to gift such esoteric blessings to one of her monks, had saw fit to contact the wayward student with an offer of help to get inside the building. It may not result in the most legal avenue, but legality was the providence of mortals, not The Maker.
There was something else nagging at Jilliana, though. Certain others of the del Holzinn Clan within The Guild Arcane had been talking about something that had gone wrong in their last experiment. While they were not directly involved, their large ears could not help but overhear some of the administrators being rather frustrated over “how she got away”. The fleeing scion of her family, Arcata had indeed fled from the awful things The Guild attempted to do to her. While they had a reputation of being bumbling neophytes in the arts of magic and alchemy, the ones this innate magician encountered were nothing of the sort. They were cruel in their progressivism, willing to push any boundary in their thirst for knowledge. Maybe, just maybe, they didn’t realize what they were doing to her, but Arcata knew for a fact that she could not go back. Not at all.
The streets of Fossice were like a maze to her: packed, loud, and with a rhythm as indescribable as her own powers. Men tried to hawk their jewelry upon her with shallow flattery, a woman garbed in the finest of velvet simply shoved past her with a derogatory comment, but none of that currently mattered: What mattered was the name Lucien. A foreigner to these parts, but supposedly a man who knew the waters of D’Argenta like she knew the olive gardens of her manor. All she had heard so far was that he was a navigator of sorts and, for the right price, was willing to move dangerous thing. Was she not something dangerous as well? Of course, there was the matter of where he was staying.
Lucien Sharp needed a ship. That much was certain. That his own had been taken from him by the bastards he had entrusted with it was no small pain to bear: a man of his occupation without a ship, well, they might as well have taken his manhood with it! Unfortunately, the Arsenal of Fossice was not exactly the place one looked to commit an act of piracy. The guns on those Carracks would blow any ne’er-do-wells out of the water the moment an alarm was raised: Lucien knew precisely how accurate these D’Argentan guns could be compared to those from his homeland. However, there might have been another way: people in Fossice were resourceful, and a sharp wit could go about as far as gold in some places. For such a tongue, one need look no farther than Giovanni da Messina: word was he had the ear of several prominent members of The Senate (and had perhaps held some other parts of the more beautiful Senators as well, if he were to be believed). A series of dispatches between Giovanni and Lucien had arranged a suitable meeting place at the market in Central Fossice, near the Herald’s stand: the crowds would cover their plotting admirably.
And yet, Giovanni was not exactly safe within his city either. No, it was not the scorned lovers that came from him: that was no risk, but a challenge to “make amends”. Neither was it the husbands of those wronged, for Giovanni’s swordplay was equally skillful on the cobblestone streets as it was in the many boudoirs of the spurned housewives and daughters. Instead, it was something worse: The Thieves’ Guild. It was less than one week ago that Giovanni had found one of their members accosting one of Paulina’s girls in a manner most unbefitting a gentleman. He had announced his displeasure with such crassness, the Thief had further confirmed just how crass he was, and a quick bout ended in a dead cutpurse. It seemed that this was not the end of it.
A reformed member of the guild, a Dwarf by the name of Federigo, had sought out Giovanni and informed him of a plot upon his life. The man he had killed was none other than Dominiccio Salvatore diBellama: the son of the current head of The Thieves’ Guild. While not normally a very violent organization, this was not a slander they could afford to turn their cheek to. With plans to eliminate Giovanni as an example (a painful one at that) of those who crossed their band of pickpockets and bandits, Federigo had caught wind of the plot from an old accomplice. More than that, he rather enjoyed some of Giovanni’s paintings: La Dea sulla Baia al Chiaro diLuna was a particularly eyecatching piece of The Maker, though no one would ever see it displayed in a Church. Through some underground connections, Federigo knew that Giovanni was meeting someone in the market square today: it may very well have been the assassin.
There was another meeting bound to take place, and poor Arcata was not out of this twisting conspiracy just yet. Neither, however, was a counterpart of hers. The Seventh to bear the title, an auspicious number within The Maker’s realms, the pale woman had received a letter with the mark of The Witchguard upon it. An assignment. She had opened it with the same formality as any other, but this one was different, for the script was not the stilted scratching of her unnamed superiors, but instead the flowing, beautiful pen of her lost lover, Romeo Montuletti: the man she had given her freedom that he might live. A thousand and one questions raced at how, how he could have used the seal of such a sacred order, how he could have gotten such a message to her, but the flourishes of his quill, the idiosyncrasies of language that only she would understand, the fact that it was addressed to her name, not her title … There could be little doubt. It came from him. He was alive and well, but also possibly in great danger to have forged such a document. The messenger who delivered it had vanished as quickly as the note was in her hands, and the note was clear: There was a woman she was not to kill, but save. Blonde, fair skinned, a noble if the letter was to be believed, whom had suffered at the hands of The Guild Arcane. The evidence was spotty, but it left a name, Arcata, and an instruction, to find her and get her away from Fossice.
Through The Maker’s guidance, these players find their stage within Central Fossice in the middle of the Market Square, for The Maker has been known to favor convenience for her plans. It is at this moment that a hustling guard shoves through the crowd around The Herald and hands him a scroll before nearly collapsing, out of breath from the heavy breastplate and helmet he bears. While his fellow soldiers tend to him and fetch wine from a nearby vendor, the Herald unfurls the vellum and reads with a booming voice.
” People of Fossice! It has been discovered by The Republican Guard that a Break-In has occurred at The Old Tower! The Senate has noted that the land around The Tower is now off-limits to all but those in their direct service. Trespassers will be slain on sight. Furthermore, all travel from the city is now being restricted: ships are docked until further notice, and the gates shall be closed as well until the culprit is caught!”
The news has the projected response; a near riot breaks out as merchants and many others have just heard that their livelihoods are threatened all because of the villainy of a common thief. However, those not blinded by anger would know it would take more than “common” to steal anything from such a secure library. The Church kept knowledge in there, dangerous knowledge: what could one possibly want?
Not that it mattered to the assembled. The screams had risen into a chorus of rage, more guards arriving to quell the gathering before it escalated into a riot. For his part, The Herald was escorted away from the market with all haste, a piece of a brick flying through the air and striking him in the back of the head. A small cheer went up from the assembly at their meaningless justice being served, even as they were further hemmed in and pushed back with halberds and the threat of firearms. Though it took some work, the crowd was eventually dispersed with much grumbling and anger, but it was fruitless: Fossice was locked down, and it would take a miracle to open her up again.
[sblock=A Summary]Nicolo – You are trying to get into The Old Tower. A Gnome named Jilliana del Holtzinn has contacted you with an offer to get you in if you’ll allow her to study your unique magic.
Jilliana – You have extended an offer to help Niccolo into The Old Tower, but have also heard of some type of calamity from The Guild Arcane’s guildhouse nearby it: apparently someone or something has escaped, and several of the Arcane Headmasters are sweating over it.
Arcata – In attempting to flee from Fossice, you’ve heard of a ship captain named Lucien Sharpe, whom you are trying to make an arrangement with to get out of the city as fast as possible.
Lucien – Without a ship, you are stranded here. You’ve reached out to a Giovanni da Messina, who supposedly has government contacts that may be able to help you.
Giovanni – You’ve heard a foreigner is in need of a ship, and you’re to arrange a way for them to secure one. You were also in a duel with a member of The Thieves’ Guild a week ago, whom you killed for attempting to sexually assault one of Paulina’s prostitutes.
Federigo – You’ve caught wind that the man Giovanni killed was the son of the head of The Thieves’ Guild. You’re trying to warn him that they plan to assassinate him, partially out of redemption, partially because Giovanni is actually quite a good painter and it’d be a shame to lose that talent.
The Magdalena – You’ve received a letter bearing the seal of The Witchguard, but it heavily appears to be from your lover, Romeo Montuletti. The letter asks you to find a woman named Arcata, who is on the run from The Guild Arcana, and help her escape.
All of You – A notice has been read that The Old Tower has had a break-in and something was stolen. Until further notice, The Tower is off limits unless you are directly working with The Senate on the matter. All ships are to remain in harbor, and the gates are closed to Fossice as the city enters lockdown until the thief is caught.[/sblock]
[sblock=A Note for All]Though I have included connections here for you all to relate to one another, please feel free to edit and adjust these as necessary. Perhaps The Magdelana is already familiar with Arcata and her family, or maybe Nicolo and The Magdalena have met previously on Church business. Maybe Arcata has seen Giovanni’s paintings back at her villa, or Lucien and Federigo have gone smuggling together in the past. These are your stories, and all I am here for is to provide the framework.[/sblock]
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