-
The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
A Rose In The Wind: A Saga of the Halmae -- Updated June 19, 2014
- Thread starter ellinor
- Start date
ellinor
Explorer
26x02
WEEK 10 | MONDAY
“Your man is free,” Kormick told Daisuki. They were sitting at Daisuki’s regular table at the Inn of Generous Portions, eating stew and drinking a delicious, if thin, beer. “As far as the Eighths are concerned, the whole matter of the fixed matches on Ehkt’s Judgment is resolved.”
Daisuki nodded. “You’re a good man, Kormick.”
Kormick took a swig of beer. “I have a message for you,” he said, holding out a piece of paper.
“Lukas von Volken—he is the one who insists he is not a King? The one known as Four Fathoms, right?” Daisuki asked Kormick, as he took the dagger and examined its blade.
“Some people call him that,” Kormick replied.
“I suppose that’s because his enemies are all four fathoms deep?”
Kormick chuckled. “Because when you pull an enemy’s intestines out, they’re four fathoms long.”
Daisuki guffawed. “Perhaps we do have a lot in common.”
###
TUESDAY
At the Adept infirmary, Savina packed ice around Nyoko’s sore ankle. “It looks to me like the Dance of the Sevenfold Secrets is a taxing one,” she commented.
Nyoko nodded. “It’s not something that one usually learns in three weeks,” she said.
“Will you be able to prepare it in time for the indulgence party?” Savina asked, concerned.
“Oh, I’ll learn it, if only to prove Unsuku wrong,” Nyoko replied. “I know the steps already. It’s just a matter of practicing it until it feels easy. I should feel comfortable enough to accept the invitation soon. Iwai-sensei says the only thing I’m missing is a connection with the audience.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Savina noticed one of the Adept healers whom she had seen earlier using distinctive Alirrian techniques. A connection with the audience, Savina thought. She missed feeling a connection to a community of Alirrians. As far as Savina could tell, there was not a single Alirrian in Cauldron other than herself willing to expose their faith.
Savina took a chance and approached the healer. “I was thinking,” she said, “in the spirit of the Affirmation, of holding a regular Alirrian prayer service at dawn in the courtyard of the Inn of Comfortable Repose. If I did that, do you think anyone would come?”
“Maybe,” the Adept healer said, with an almost-imperceptible shrug.
“Well, if you know anyone you think would be interested, please feel free to let them know about it. I’d welcome them.”
Without a word, the Adept moved on to another patient.
Savina resolved to hold dawn prayer services every morning until somebody showed up.
###
WEDNESDAY
At the Fortune Riders’ temple, Tavi stared across the table at a sweaty man. Tavi was trying to decide how much to bet on the next die roll. It’s a game of chance, Tavi thought. You won’t change the dice by changing how much you bet. He stared at the Sedellan symbols on the wall, and took a small cup of rice wine from the tray of a well-dressed priestess. Phoebe darted above him. Bet it all! Bet it all!
At Tavi’s left, Arden was flipping a chip over her fingers and sharing knowing glances with other gamblers’ servants—the kind of glances that mean “look at this idiot nobleman, spending money on cheap thrills.” The kind of glances that would help maintain her cover with the Tide. At Tavi’s right, Mena’s eyes were peeled for influential marks to stand across the table, gamble, and leave to spread the fable of Octavian di Raprezzi, man of indulgent tastes. Rose stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder encouragingly. I’m not here to win, he thought, I’m here to look good.
Tavi leaned back and pushed his whole stack of chips into the center of the table.
###
THURSDAY
“Those Harbingers are interesting!” Twiggy exclaimed as she flopped down on the divan at the Inn of Comfortable Repose.
Mena had known Twiggy for the better part of the girl’s life. She thought of the girl as a good student, and generally sensible. Getting better all the time, surely. But every once in a while the girl let loose with a statement that just didn’t make sense.
“Harbingers? Interesting?” Mena raised an eyebrow.
“Yes! I was there today—we do need to build relationships with the Sedellans through something other than Tavi’s gambling—and we spent all afternoon talking philosophically about the Affirmation.” Mena recognized the girl’s enthusiasm, even if she was wary of the girl’s seeming affection for a group of Sedellans.
Twiggy continued without a breath. “The Harbingers depend on the Affirmation for their very existence in Cauldron, and yet they still are not confident that it is the way of the future here. The Harbingers’ goal is to help people through changes, so if the Affirmation ends, then they’ll work to ease the transition for people who find that traumatic. If the Affirmation is here to stay, then they’ll have a whole other group of people to console.”
“Tidesmen,” Mena sighed.
Twiggy was still talking. “So I spent the day trying to convince them that the Affirmation is the way of the future, and that the Harbingers should work to make people comfortable with that so that they don’t follow the Tide and create eddies of discord in the winds of change. So to speak. I said that even if the Affirmation might end someday, it would still be the Harbingers’ role to help calm the people who didn’t like it right now. The woman in charge of the Harbingers, Sister Gentle Breeze, is very nice. And very thoughtful, although I don’t know if I got through to her. I want to go back tomorrow to bring her a book I read at the Adept house, one of the histories of the Lord High Regent, which has a very interesting passage about the nature of change in the Sovereignty.”
Mena sighed and sat down on the divan next to Twiggy. “Have I ever told you that you’re a good student?”
“Yes,” said Twiggy, “but I don’t mind hearing it again.”
###
FRIDAY
Arden dipped her spoon into the familiar soup at the Inn of Agreeable Company as she waited for Shen to arrive. She was there to advance her infiltration of the Tide and to spread misinformation in the hope of hampering their progress—but it felt futile. As before, the Tide still wouldn't trust her with their plans unless she agreed to kill for them. And because she wouldn't do that, Lord Ono had nearly died; she hadn't known enough to warn him. So be it, she told herself. She felt no guilt about the entirely justifiable decision to be non-murderous, no matter what happened to Lord Ono—but she was frustrated. Deeply frustrated.
Shen opened the door and bounced into the booth. She was alarmingly giddy. “We’ve pulled off a great one this time,” she said, excitement radiating from her face.
“Yes, it's certainly the end for Lord Ono,” Arden replied, playing along.
“Not Lord Ono,” Shen responded. “Something else. I can’t give you details… but it’s good. All of Cauldron will hear about it. Count on it.”
“When?” Arden demanded, letting her frustration animate her voice while resisting the urge to begin thudding her head against the table. This sounds exactly like before Ono was poisoned. Gods, give me something to work with here… “I can’t wait to find out what’s planned.”
“Not ‘planned,’” Shen grinned. “It’s already done.”
WEEK 10 | MONDAY
“Your man is free,” Kormick told Daisuki. They were sitting at Daisuki’s regular table at the Inn of Generous Portions, eating stew and drinking a delicious, if thin, beer. “As far as the Eighths are concerned, the whole matter of the fixed matches on Ehkt’s Judgment is resolved.”
Daisuki nodded. “You’re a good man, Kormick.”
Kormick took a swig of beer. “I have a message for you,” he said, holding out a piece of paper.
“Lukas von Volken—he is the one who insists he is not a King? The one known as Four Fathoms, right?” Daisuki asked Kormick, as he took the dagger and examined its blade.
“Some people call him that,” Kormick replied.
“I suppose that’s because his enemies are all four fathoms deep?”
Kormick chuckled. “Because when you pull an enemy’s intestines out, they’re four fathoms long.”
Daisuki guffawed. “Perhaps we do have a lot in common.”
###
TUESDAY
At the Adept infirmary, Savina packed ice around Nyoko’s sore ankle. “It looks to me like the Dance of the Sevenfold Secrets is a taxing one,” she commented.
Nyoko nodded. “It’s not something that one usually learns in three weeks,” she said.
“Will you be able to prepare it in time for the indulgence party?” Savina asked, concerned.
“Oh, I’ll learn it, if only to prove Unsuku wrong,” Nyoko replied. “I know the steps already. It’s just a matter of practicing it until it feels easy. I should feel comfortable enough to accept the invitation soon. Iwai-sensei says the only thing I’m missing is a connection with the audience.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Savina noticed one of the Adept healers whom she had seen earlier using distinctive Alirrian techniques. A connection with the audience, Savina thought. She missed feeling a connection to a community of Alirrians. As far as Savina could tell, there was not a single Alirrian in Cauldron other than herself willing to expose their faith.
Savina took a chance and approached the healer. “I was thinking,” she said, “in the spirit of the Affirmation, of holding a regular Alirrian prayer service at dawn in the courtyard of the Inn of Comfortable Repose. If I did that, do you think anyone would come?”
“Maybe,” the Adept healer said, with an almost-imperceptible shrug.
“Well, if you know anyone you think would be interested, please feel free to let them know about it. I’d welcome them.”
Without a word, the Adept moved on to another patient.
Savina resolved to hold dawn prayer services every morning until somebody showed up.
###
WEDNESDAY
At the Fortune Riders’ temple, Tavi stared across the table at a sweaty man. Tavi was trying to decide how much to bet on the next die roll. It’s a game of chance, Tavi thought. You won’t change the dice by changing how much you bet. He stared at the Sedellan symbols on the wall, and took a small cup of rice wine from the tray of a well-dressed priestess. Phoebe darted above him. Bet it all! Bet it all!
At Tavi’s left, Arden was flipping a chip over her fingers and sharing knowing glances with other gamblers’ servants—the kind of glances that mean “look at this idiot nobleman, spending money on cheap thrills.” The kind of glances that would help maintain her cover with the Tide. At Tavi’s right, Mena’s eyes were peeled for influential marks to stand across the table, gamble, and leave to spread the fable of Octavian di Raprezzi, man of indulgent tastes. Rose stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder encouragingly. I’m not here to win, he thought, I’m here to look good.
Tavi leaned back and pushed his whole stack of chips into the center of the table.
###
THURSDAY
“Those Harbingers are interesting!” Twiggy exclaimed as she flopped down on the divan at the Inn of Comfortable Repose.
Mena had known Twiggy for the better part of the girl’s life. She thought of the girl as a good student, and generally sensible. Getting better all the time, surely. But every once in a while the girl let loose with a statement that just didn’t make sense.
“Harbingers? Interesting?” Mena raised an eyebrow.
“Yes! I was there today—we do need to build relationships with the Sedellans through something other than Tavi’s gambling—and we spent all afternoon talking philosophically about the Affirmation.” Mena recognized the girl’s enthusiasm, even if she was wary of the girl’s seeming affection for a group of Sedellans.
Twiggy continued without a breath. “The Harbingers depend on the Affirmation for their very existence in Cauldron, and yet they still are not confident that it is the way of the future here. The Harbingers’ goal is to help people through changes, so if the Affirmation ends, then they’ll work to ease the transition for people who find that traumatic. If the Affirmation is here to stay, then they’ll have a whole other group of people to console.”
“Tidesmen,” Mena sighed.
Twiggy was still talking. “So I spent the day trying to convince them that the Affirmation is the way of the future, and that the Harbingers should work to make people comfortable with that so that they don’t follow the Tide and create eddies of discord in the winds of change. So to speak. I said that even if the Affirmation might end someday, it would still be the Harbingers’ role to help calm the people who didn’t like it right now. The woman in charge of the Harbingers, Sister Gentle Breeze, is very nice. And very thoughtful, although I don’t know if I got through to her. I want to go back tomorrow to bring her a book I read at the Adept house, one of the histories of the Lord High Regent, which has a very interesting passage about the nature of change in the Sovereignty.”
Mena sighed and sat down on the divan next to Twiggy. “Have I ever told you that you’re a good student?”
“Yes,” said Twiggy, “but I don’t mind hearing it again.”
###
FRIDAY
Arden dipped her spoon into the familiar soup at the Inn of Agreeable Company as she waited for Shen to arrive. She was there to advance her infiltration of the Tide and to spread misinformation in the hope of hampering their progress—but it felt futile. As before, the Tide still wouldn't trust her with their plans unless she agreed to kill for them. And because she wouldn't do that, Lord Ono had nearly died; she hadn't known enough to warn him. So be it, she told herself. She felt no guilt about the entirely justifiable decision to be non-murderous, no matter what happened to Lord Ono—but she was frustrated. Deeply frustrated.
Shen opened the door and bounced into the booth. She was alarmingly giddy. “We’ve pulled off a great one this time,” she said, excitement radiating from her face.
“Yes, it's certainly the end for Lord Ono,” Arden replied, playing along.
“Not Lord Ono,” Shen responded. “Something else. I can’t give you details… but it’s good. All of Cauldron will hear about it. Count on it.”
“When?” Arden demanded, letting her frustration animate her voice while resisting the urge to begin thudding her head against the table. This sounds exactly like before Ono was poisoned. Gods, give me something to work with here… “I can’t wait to find out what’s planned.”
“Not ‘planned,’” Shen grinned. “It’s already done.”
ellinor
Explorer
26x03
Happy pre-Thanksgiving! I'd like to express my heartfelt thanks to all of you for reading and commenting. In anticipation of the holiday and to say thanks, here's a longer-than-usual update...
SUNDAY
Twiggy stood alone, waiting outside the closed gates of the headquarters of the Ring of the Military. She felt very exposed. I can do this, she tried to reassure herself. I know how to play Go; I can play the sorts of unorthodox strategies Lady Mochizuki enjoys. I don’t have to win, and anyway, I’ve played with her before. The only difference between then and now is that this time I have to convince her to support our efforts to go the long way around the Circle.
It didn’t make her feel better. I need to practice my pep-talks, she thought.
A guard finally appeared and led her across well-appointed parade grounds to Lady Mochizuki’s office chambers. The walls were covered with maps of the Sovereignty and the Halmae. Baskets of scrolls surrounded her desk. The room was crowded and yet, somehow, ordered. In one corner lay a Go board and two cushions.
“Welcome,” said Lady Mochizuki.
A woman of few words, thought Twiggy, and resisted the urge to babble about the weather, and the manicured look of the military compound, and the scrolls in Lady Mochizuki’s office, and . . . “I appreciate the invitation.”
Lady Mochizuki offered Twiggy a cup of tea, and they sat down to a game. It was quieter and more intimate than their last, but no easier. Twiggy made a few mistakes early, but Lady Mochizuki did not cut her down, as she could have. She let Twiggy recover, and in the end, although Lady Mochizuki won definitively, Twiggy felt like she hadn’t bored her opponent.
“I was curious to see what you’d do when backed into a corner,” Lady Michizuki said, as the game drew to a close.
“Sometimes the corners are the most interesting places,” Twiggy said, and sensed her opening. “In fact, my friends and I have found ourselves in an interesting kind of corner. I learned to play Go because we need your help.”
Lady Mochizuki paused for a long time. Twiggy cast about in her mind for something to say, hoping she hadn’t just ruined everything. But just as she opened her mouth to continue, Lady Mochizuki responded. “You have laid an intriguing new piece on the board.”
“I’m glad you think so,” replied Twiggy. “The situation is this. I presume you have heard of the group calling itself the Restless Tide of the One True Path?”
Lady Mochizuki nodded, warily.
“My friends and I have learned that the Tide controls the Ring of the Priesthood,” Twiggy said. Lady Mochizuki kept her emotions in check with perfect Sovereign decorum, but Twiggy noticed the General’s mouth twitch just as it had when Twiggy had made her most daring move during the game. “We are working with the Inquisition against the Tide," Twiggy continued. "But we must go the long way around the Circle if we wish to defeat them.”
Lady Mochizuki frowned. “You are a bold player, Signora. You are attempting to take a very well-defended piece. Am I to understand you are requesting my aid against the Priesthood?”
“Yes,” said Twiggy, attempting her most confident tone. “But to be clear, this is not a request for your charity. Helping us is in your interest. The Tide has made an attempt on the life of Lord Ono. History is littered with assassination attempts against leaders like yourself, attempts that have torn countries apart. Together we can stop a civil war before it begins.”
Lady Mochizuki remained silent, and Twiggy could not resist adding an analogy to her own combat magic. “You are a great war wizard. You must see that the Tide is like a veil of illusion that makes the citizens of Cauldron fight among themselves.”
Lady Mochizuki pursed her lips thoughtfully. “These are not unfamiliar thoughts, and you speak with no small degree of intelligence. Therefore I assume you have a plan.”
Twiggy explained their plan in detail, including their successes thus far and their continuing attempts to develop relationships with the city’s religious leaders. Lady Mochiuzuki stared past Twiggy for some time after Twiggy finished, no doubt playing the board forward in her mind.
Finally, she spoke. “I must caution you about the Mother Superior. She is a dangerous player, and when she is backed into a corner, she will not hesitate to slash her way out. But if you continue to play the Circle as well as you played Go to get my attention, you have a chance of success. Consider the Military behind you.”
Lady Mochizuki held out her hand, and Twiggy took it. The two thanked each other for the game, and Lady Mochizuki summoned a guard to accompany Twiggy back to the gates.
As she reached the door of the Inn of Comfortable Repose, Twiggy couldn’t resist doing a little dance.
“There you are!” Rose said, as Twiggy opened the door. “Tell me all about the match on the way to the Inquisition. We’ve been summoned there by Lord Ono.”
###
Arden stood behind the others as the group crowded into Lord Ono’s broom-closet of a replacement office. She felt an involuntary tightening in her chest as she squeezed against the room’s stone wall. But even more unsettling than the small space was the look of anger and frustration on Lord Ono’s face as he paced back and forth across it—three steps, turn, three steps, turn—
“I’m going to assume you aren’t responsible for arresting the head of the Sedellan Church and placing her in Chief Questioner Mawu’s care?” Lord Ono asked, as soon as Arden closed the door.
“No!” Savina exclaimed. “Who arrested her? Why? When?”
This is what Shen was talking about, thought Arden. When she’d returned to the group with Shen’s gleeful pronouncement, they’d all been worried…but how could they have guessed it would be the incarceration—and torture—of the leader of the Sedellans in Cauldron?
Lord Ono explained what little he knew: Sister Sweet Scent had—without his knowledge or approval—been arrested by the Inquisition, on orders from the Priesthood. Apparently someone (obviously the Tide) had made allegations against her in connection with the fixed matches at the Trials—something the group was quite sure she had nothing to do with.
Not just an incarceration, Arden thought, but a wrongful one. It was infuriating, as well as a demonstration of just how fragile their whole plan was. One word from the Priesthood, and Sister Sweet Scent was being poked and prodded—or worse—by Mawu. If they couldn’t fix this, the Sedellans would riot in the streets. Rightfully. And be massacred for it.
Lord Ono continued. “I’ve ordered that she be released and that her Inquest be called off. I presented the evidence you collected in connection with the Trials-fixing, which established unequivocally that the Eighths bore sole responsibility. The Inquisition has made an official finding that neither Sister Sweet Scent, nor anyone affiliated with the Fortune Riders, is guilty of any heresy. By now, she should be returned to the care of her own people. But by the time I found out, she’d been in Mawu-san’s care for days.”
“Is she well?” Savina gasped.
“Knowing Mawu-san,” Lord Ono replied, “I’d imagine she is still… functional.”
“So the whole thing is resolved now?” Kormick asked. “She’s back with her people, and it’s squared away?”
“It’s not that easy,” Lord Ono said.
“It never is,” Arden muttered. Mena smiled, ever so slightly.
Lord Ono continued. “Normally a person of such standing would not be given over for Questioning quite so immediately. There are protocols, procedures, processes, what have you. But someone in the Inquisition fast-tracked the investigation. They knew when the papers were coming in and they signed off on an expedited Inquest without consulting me or Lady Ono-san. That means that beyond any doubt, that the Tide have operatives in this Inquisition. I’ll give you all of the documents—the record of arrest, questioning, and so forth—but I’ll need you to get to the bottom of this.”
###
WEEK 11 | MONDAY
Mena took a deep breath and put her hand on the hilt of her ceremonial flail as she stood at the door of the Harbingers’ headquarters. Mena really didn’t like the Harbingers. She couldn’t abide a sect that was just as comfortable with change for the worse as it was with change for the better. And she knew they wouldn’t spare any affection for her. It’s hard to like someone whose sect is dedicated to loathing your God, Mena reflected.
Regardless, she had to meet with the Sedellans. Lord Ono had arranged for the release of Sister Sweet Scent, but the Sedellans were—understandably—still angry. And angry Sedellans did nothing to advance the cause of the Affirmation. It was imperative that they understand that the Inquisition was not responsible for her wrongful detention. Assuaging the Sedellans had become the group’s top priority—assuming the Sedellans would listen.
“I’m happy to introduce you to their leader,” Twiggy said. “I think she likes me.”
Twiggy barely had the chance to say “This is my teach—” when Mena stepped forward. “Dame Philomena of the Defiers of the Wind,” Mena said, and slammed the hilt of her flail down against the woman’s desk for emphasis. She was cranky—not only about what the Tide had done to Sister Sweet Scent, but also about being here, surrounded by Harbingers with their hands on their weapons.
“Your reputation precedes you,” Sister Gentle Breeze said. “I have enjoyed conversing with your student, and am honored to meet the Defier in the Inquisition. I wish it had been under happier circumstances.” Sister Gentle Breeze’s words were kind, but her voice was icy. She took a tight breath and folded her arms in a hostile, but not aggressive, stance.
“The Inquisition is not to blame for the circumstances,” Mena said, and did not wait for an answer. “The arrest was the work of the Tide. The circumstances will be righted, or I will die trying.”
“I should hope it does not come to that,” Sister Gentle Breeze said, her voice still cold. “But as your student will tell you, we see little principled distinction between the Tide and the Inquisition. Each may be an agent of change or of stagnation.”
Mena scowled. “The distinction is that I intend to hunt down the Tidesmen responsible for Sister Sweet Scent’s arrest. Remember that.”
Mena gripped her flail, turned, and left.
###
TUESDAY
“You are an Inquisitor,” the Twilight Sister said to Savina, “and an Alirrian. Why would you want to help us?”
Savina was standing in the doorway of the House of the Twilight Sisters. They had let her in, but hadn’t exactly been inviting. “I am concerned for the health of Sister Sweet Scent,” Savina replied. “I have read the Inquisition report. I know that she was held by Mawu. I am sure it was not pleasant. I am a healer. If Sister Sweet Scent is injured in any way . . .”
The Twilight Sister interrupted her. “Thank you for the kind offer, but the matter of Sister Sweet Scent’s health is well in hand.”
“If I could meet her, tend to her—” Savina remained polite, but she felt desperate. How can we explain to Sister Sweet Scent that we are trying to help, if we can’t get anywhere near her? she thought.
The Twilight Sister put her hand on the doorframe in a gentle suggestion that it was time for Savina to be on her way.
As she turned to leave, Savina stopped. “You should know that the arrest of Sister Sweet Scent was ordered by the Priesthood. Someone falsified paperwork to worsen the conditions of her Inquest. Please know that the Inquisition is not your enemy.”
Savina noticed the slightest light of recognition—and maybe even appreciation—in the Twilight Sister’s eyes.
###
WEDNESDAY
Nyoko was as worried as everyone else about what had happened with Sister Sweet Scent—but she knew she couldn’t fix it. What I can fix, she told herself, is my balance on the fourth note of the 17th phrase. It was progress, she knew, to be able to focus on details—but she needed to get it right.
The previous evening, she had officially accepted her invitation to dance the Dance of the Sevenfold Secrets at Lord Tanaka’s Indulgence Party, and had asked when it would take place. The group needed that information in order to be prepared for what they hoped would be a persuasive meeting with the head of Lands—but the event was so secretly run that the date and location were kept under wraps until just before the event. Kormick’s contact at the Eighths had let slip that it would take place on a weekend, but Nyoko wanted to know how soon that weekend would come. “I need time to refine my performance,” she explained.
“Is a week enough time for refinement?” The man had asked.
“One can always refine more,” Nyoko responded, “but a week is sufficient.”
“Then you’ll have more than enough refinement,” the man had replied, with a glint in his eye, as harsh as it was mischevious.
So it’s more than a week away, Nyoko thought, and when it comes, I’d better be refined.
###
FRIDAY
Tavi threw up his hands and barked angrily at the Teleport Center guard. “Where is it?” Tavi gesticulated at a piece of paper. “It’s written right here. Wool, jewelweed, and fennel. They should have arrived at noon. I don’t see them.”
The guard apologized profusely. It was all going according to plan.
While Savina and Mena were out trying to counteract the effects of the Tide’s offenses against the Sedellans, Tavi was working on a plan to confound whatever the Tide had planned next. What’s done is done, he thought, but the future is flexible.
Twiggy had made a list of strange arcane components and fragmented instructions for what a skilled arcanist would instantly recognize as a variation on a scrying spell. The instructions were useless, but they looked enough like a sorcerer’s notes that even someone with training would trust their arcane value. Tavi had ordered them from various places around the Halmae, sending letters and payment through the Teleport network.
Arden had taken the paper, crumpled and dirty as if she'd had to steal it, to her Tide contact. She told Shen that her masters had developed some magical means of detecting Tide operatives, and—once they had all of the components for the spell—would be able to scry the locations of Tidesmen, find their hiding places, and listen in on their activities.
It had worked. A shipment of cats-eye stones had been stolen the day before, and now the Tide had, clearly, devoted resources to stealing the other worthless components. And the more time they spend foiling our non-existent plans, Tavi thought, the less time they spend forwarding their own…
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Tavi announced, loudly enough for the furtive Tide spy he’d noticed outside to overhear, “and my fennel had better be here by then.”
Happy pre-Thanksgiving! I'd like to express my heartfelt thanks to all of you for reading and commenting. In anticipation of the holiday and to say thanks, here's a longer-than-usual update...
SUNDAY
Twiggy stood alone, waiting outside the closed gates of the headquarters of the Ring of the Military. She felt very exposed. I can do this, she tried to reassure herself. I know how to play Go; I can play the sorts of unorthodox strategies Lady Mochizuki enjoys. I don’t have to win, and anyway, I’ve played with her before. The only difference between then and now is that this time I have to convince her to support our efforts to go the long way around the Circle.
It didn’t make her feel better. I need to practice my pep-talks, she thought.
A guard finally appeared and led her across well-appointed parade grounds to Lady Mochizuki’s office chambers. The walls were covered with maps of the Sovereignty and the Halmae. Baskets of scrolls surrounded her desk. The room was crowded and yet, somehow, ordered. In one corner lay a Go board and two cushions.
“Welcome,” said Lady Mochizuki.
A woman of few words, thought Twiggy, and resisted the urge to babble about the weather, and the manicured look of the military compound, and the scrolls in Lady Mochizuki’s office, and . . . “I appreciate the invitation.”
Lady Mochizuki offered Twiggy a cup of tea, and they sat down to a game. It was quieter and more intimate than their last, but no easier. Twiggy made a few mistakes early, but Lady Mochizuki did not cut her down, as she could have. She let Twiggy recover, and in the end, although Lady Mochizuki won definitively, Twiggy felt like she hadn’t bored her opponent.
“I was curious to see what you’d do when backed into a corner,” Lady Michizuki said, as the game drew to a close.
“Sometimes the corners are the most interesting places,” Twiggy said, and sensed her opening. “In fact, my friends and I have found ourselves in an interesting kind of corner. I learned to play Go because we need your help.”
Lady Mochizuki paused for a long time. Twiggy cast about in her mind for something to say, hoping she hadn’t just ruined everything. But just as she opened her mouth to continue, Lady Mochizuki responded. “You have laid an intriguing new piece on the board.”
“I’m glad you think so,” replied Twiggy. “The situation is this. I presume you have heard of the group calling itself the Restless Tide of the One True Path?”
Lady Mochizuki nodded, warily.
“My friends and I have learned that the Tide controls the Ring of the Priesthood,” Twiggy said. Lady Mochizuki kept her emotions in check with perfect Sovereign decorum, but Twiggy noticed the General’s mouth twitch just as it had when Twiggy had made her most daring move during the game. “We are working with the Inquisition against the Tide," Twiggy continued. "But we must go the long way around the Circle if we wish to defeat them.”
Lady Mochizuki frowned. “You are a bold player, Signora. You are attempting to take a very well-defended piece. Am I to understand you are requesting my aid against the Priesthood?”
“Yes,” said Twiggy, attempting her most confident tone. “But to be clear, this is not a request for your charity. Helping us is in your interest. The Tide has made an attempt on the life of Lord Ono. History is littered with assassination attempts against leaders like yourself, attempts that have torn countries apart. Together we can stop a civil war before it begins.”
Lady Mochizuki remained silent, and Twiggy could not resist adding an analogy to her own combat magic. “You are a great war wizard. You must see that the Tide is like a veil of illusion that makes the citizens of Cauldron fight among themselves.”
Lady Mochizuki pursed her lips thoughtfully. “These are not unfamiliar thoughts, and you speak with no small degree of intelligence. Therefore I assume you have a plan.”
Twiggy explained their plan in detail, including their successes thus far and their continuing attempts to develop relationships with the city’s religious leaders. Lady Mochiuzuki stared past Twiggy for some time after Twiggy finished, no doubt playing the board forward in her mind.
Finally, she spoke. “I must caution you about the Mother Superior. She is a dangerous player, and when she is backed into a corner, she will not hesitate to slash her way out. But if you continue to play the Circle as well as you played Go to get my attention, you have a chance of success. Consider the Military behind you.”
Lady Mochizuki held out her hand, and Twiggy took it. The two thanked each other for the game, and Lady Mochizuki summoned a guard to accompany Twiggy back to the gates.
As she reached the door of the Inn of Comfortable Repose, Twiggy couldn’t resist doing a little dance.
“There you are!” Rose said, as Twiggy opened the door. “Tell me all about the match on the way to the Inquisition. We’ve been summoned there by Lord Ono.”
###
Arden stood behind the others as the group crowded into Lord Ono’s broom-closet of a replacement office. She felt an involuntary tightening in her chest as she squeezed against the room’s stone wall. But even more unsettling than the small space was the look of anger and frustration on Lord Ono’s face as he paced back and forth across it—three steps, turn, three steps, turn—
“I’m going to assume you aren’t responsible for arresting the head of the Sedellan Church and placing her in Chief Questioner Mawu’s care?” Lord Ono asked, as soon as Arden closed the door.
“No!” Savina exclaimed. “Who arrested her? Why? When?”
This is what Shen was talking about, thought Arden. When she’d returned to the group with Shen’s gleeful pronouncement, they’d all been worried…but how could they have guessed it would be the incarceration—and torture—of the leader of the Sedellans in Cauldron?
Lord Ono explained what little he knew: Sister Sweet Scent had—without his knowledge or approval—been arrested by the Inquisition, on orders from the Priesthood. Apparently someone (obviously the Tide) had made allegations against her in connection with the fixed matches at the Trials—something the group was quite sure she had nothing to do with.
Not just an incarceration, Arden thought, but a wrongful one. It was infuriating, as well as a demonstration of just how fragile their whole plan was. One word from the Priesthood, and Sister Sweet Scent was being poked and prodded—or worse—by Mawu. If they couldn’t fix this, the Sedellans would riot in the streets. Rightfully. And be massacred for it.
Lord Ono continued. “I’ve ordered that she be released and that her Inquest be called off. I presented the evidence you collected in connection with the Trials-fixing, which established unequivocally that the Eighths bore sole responsibility. The Inquisition has made an official finding that neither Sister Sweet Scent, nor anyone affiliated with the Fortune Riders, is guilty of any heresy. By now, she should be returned to the care of her own people. But by the time I found out, she’d been in Mawu-san’s care for days.”
“Is she well?” Savina gasped.
“Knowing Mawu-san,” Lord Ono replied, “I’d imagine she is still… functional.”
“So the whole thing is resolved now?” Kormick asked. “She’s back with her people, and it’s squared away?”
“It’s not that easy,” Lord Ono said.
“It never is,” Arden muttered. Mena smiled, ever so slightly.
Lord Ono continued. “Normally a person of such standing would not be given over for Questioning quite so immediately. There are protocols, procedures, processes, what have you. But someone in the Inquisition fast-tracked the investigation. They knew when the papers were coming in and they signed off on an expedited Inquest without consulting me or Lady Ono-san. That means that beyond any doubt, that the Tide have operatives in this Inquisition. I’ll give you all of the documents—the record of arrest, questioning, and so forth—but I’ll need you to get to the bottom of this.”
###
WEEK 11 | MONDAY
Mena took a deep breath and put her hand on the hilt of her ceremonial flail as she stood at the door of the Harbingers’ headquarters. Mena really didn’t like the Harbingers. She couldn’t abide a sect that was just as comfortable with change for the worse as it was with change for the better. And she knew they wouldn’t spare any affection for her. It’s hard to like someone whose sect is dedicated to loathing your God, Mena reflected.
Regardless, she had to meet with the Sedellans. Lord Ono had arranged for the release of Sister Sweet Scent, but the Sedellans were—understandably—still angry. And angry Sedellans did nothing to advance the cause of the Affirmation. It was imperative that they understand that the Inquisition was not responsible for her wrongful detention. Assuaging the Sedellans had become the group’s top priority—assuming the Sedellans would listen.
“I’m happy to introduce you to their leader,” Twiggy said. “I think she likes me.”
Twiggy barely had the chance to say “This is my teach—” when Mena stepped forward. “Dame Philomena of the Defiers of the Wind,” Mena said, and slammed the hilt of her flail down against the woman’s desk for emphasis. She was cranky—not only about what the Tide had done to Sister Sweet Scent, but also about being here, surrounded by Harbingers with their hands on their weapons.
“Your reputation precedes you,” Sister Gentle Breeze said. “I have enjoyed conversing with your student, and am honored to meet the Defier in the Inquisition. I wish it had been under happier circumstances.” Sister Gentle Breeze’s words were kind, but her voice was icy. She took a tight breath and folded her arms in a hostile, but not aggressive, stance.
“The Inquisition is not to blame for the circumstances,” Mena said, and did not wait for an answer. “The arrest was the work of the Tide. The circumstances will be righted, or I will die trying.”
“I should hope it does not come to that,” Sister Gentle Breeze said, her voice still cold. “But as your student will tell you, we see little principled distinction between the Tide and the Inquisition. Each may be an agent of change or of stagnation.”
Mena scowled. “The distinction is that I intend to hunt down the Tidesmen responsible for Sister Sweet Scent’s arrest. Remember that.”
Mena gripped her flail, turned, and left.
###
TUESDAY
“You are an Inquisitor,” the Twilight Sister said to Savina, “and an Alirrian. Why would you want to help us?”
Savina was standing in the doorway of the House of the Twilight Sisters. They had let her in, but hadn’t exactly been inviting. “I am concerned for the health of Sister Sweet Scent,” Savina replied. “I have read the Inquisition report. I know that she was held by Mawu. I am sure it was not pleasant. I am a healer. If Sister Sweet Scent is injured in any way . . .”
The Twilight Sister interrupted her. “Thank you for the kind offer, but the matter of Sister Sweet Scent’s health is well in hand.”
“If I could meet her, tend to her—” Savina remained polite, but she felt desperate. How can we explain to Sister Sweet Scent that we are trying to help, if we can’t get anywhere near her? she thought.
The Twilight Sister put her hand on the doorframe in a gentle suggestion that it was time for Savina to be on her way.
As she turned to leave, Savina stopped. “You should know that the arrest of Sister Sweet Scent was ordered by the Priesthood. Someone falsified paperwork to worsen the conditions of her Inquest. Please know that the Inquisition is not your enemy.”
Savina noticed the slightest light of recognition—and maybe even appreciation—in the Twilight Sister’s eyes.
###
WEDNESDAY
Nyoko was as worried as everyone else about what had happened with Sister Sweet Scent—but she knew she couldn’t fix it. What I can fix, she told herself, is my balance on the fourth note of the 17th phrase. It was progress, she knew, to be able to focus on details—but she needed to get it right.
The previous evening, she had officially accepted her invitation to dance the Dance of the Sevenfold Secrets at Lord Tanaka’s Indulgence Party, and had asked when it would take place. The group needed that information in order to be prepared for what they hoped would be a persuasive meeting with the head of Lands—but the event was so secretly run that the date and location were kept under wraps until just before the event. Kormick’s contact at the Eighths had let slip that it would take place on a weekend, but Nyoko wanted to know how soon that weekend would come. “I need time to refine my performance,” she explained.
“Is a week enough time for refinement?” The man had asked.
“One can always refine more,” Nyoko responded, “but a week is sufficient.”
“Then you’ll have more than enough refinement,” the man had replied, with a glint in his eye, as harsh as it was mischevious.
So it’s more than a week away, Nyoko thought, and when it comes, I’d better be refined.
###
FRIDAY
Tavi threw up his hands and barked angrily at the Teleport Center guard. “Where is it?” Tavi gesticulated at a piece of paper. “It’s written right here. Wool, jewelweed, and fennel. They should have arrived at noon. I don’t see them.”
The guard apologized profusely. It was all going according to plan.
While Savina and Mena were out trying to counteract the effects of the Tide’s offenses against the Sedellans, Tavi was working on a plan to confound whatever the Tide had planned next. What’s done is done, he thought, but the future is flexible.
Twiggy had made a list of strange arcane components and fragmented instructions for what a skilled arcanist would instantly recognize as a variation on a scrying spell. The instructions were useless, but they looked enough like a sorcerer’s notes that even someone with training would trust their arcane value. Tavi had ordered them from various places around the Halmae, sending letters and payment through the Teleport network.
Arden had taken the paper, crumpled and dirty as if she'd had to steal it, to her Tide contact. She told Shen that her masters had developed some magical means of detecting Tide operatives, and—once they had all of the components for the spell—would be able to scry the locations of Tidesmen, find their hiding places, and listen in on their activities.
It had worked. A shipment of cats-eye stones had been stolen the day before, and now the Tide had, clearly, devoted resources to stealing the other worthless components. And the more time they spend foiling our non-existent plans, Tavi thought, the less time they spend forwarding their own…
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Tavi announced, loudly enough for the furtive Tide spy he’d noticed outside to overhear, “and my fennel had better be here by then.”
27x01
Hi all, Ilex here. You will continue to see an irregular updating schedule for the next month or so, but rest assured that we have much more story to bring you, whenever we get around to posting it! As always, thank you so much for reading!
Kormick breezed into the small inn where the Eighths ran their business, Arden slinking behind him.
His contact was sitting at the usual table with the usual drink; Kormick flopped into the chair opposite and waved for his usual stew. "You called?" he said to the man.
"You've solved one problem for us," said the man. "Now we've got another."
"Happy to serve," Kormick said, "provided that you remember my good deeds in the future."
"Of course," said the man. "There's a merchant here in town, just a small-time dealer with a marketplace stall. But he's a troublesome element—"
"—meaning he doesn't pay you your… rightful percentage?"
"Something like that. To make matters worse, he's impossible to reason with."
"A tough guy?"
"No… a dwarf who can't seem to master the language."
Behind him, Kormick heard a strange noise. It was Arden. Growling.
“I… believe we can take care of him,” Kormick said.
###
Hi all, Ilex here. You will continue to see an irregular updating schedule for the next month or so, but rest assured that we have much more story to bring you, whenever we get around to posting it! As always, thank you so much for reading!
Kormick breezed into the small inn where the Eighths ran their business, Arden slinking behind him.
His contact was sitting at the usual table with the usual drink; Kormick flopped into the chair opposite and waved for his usual stew. "You called?" he said to the man.
"You've solved one problem for us," said the man. "Now we've got another."
"Happy to serve," Kormick said, "provided that you remember my good deeds in the future."
"Of course," said the man. "There's a merchant here in town, just a small-time dealer with a marketplace stall. But he's a troublesome element—"
"—meaning he doesn't pay you your… rightful percentage?"
"Something like that. To make matters worse, he's impossible to reason with."
"A tough guy?"
"No… a dwarf who can't seem to master the language."
Behind him, Kormick heard a strange noise. It was Arden. Growling.
“I… believe we can take care of him,” Kormick said.
###
Hee. If you click on the "Lord's Edge" link, you'll see that Vatik annoys/unnerves Arden because she can't figure him out, but she's pretty sure he represents trouble. And then she can't figure him out for a second time, but is still pretty sure he represents trouble, when he shows up in Cauldron.
Three strikes, he's out.
If what you are now thinking is, "I clicked those links, and while that explains the basics, I still don't see why she's that irritated by this obviously harmless and hilarious scoundrel," then congratulations on a high Insight roll. There's an additional dimension to Arden's response, but you don't know enough about her yet to know what that might be.
