27x02
And... we're back. It's been a while, so allow me to remind you that the party is beginning Week 12 of the multi-session, devilishly long "Skill Cascade" designed by our insane but wonderful GM. Machinations and intrigue abound...
WEEK 12 | MONDAY
With Nyoko's information that the top-secret Indulgence Party held by the head of Lands was coming up soon, the group was scrambling for invitations: this was likely to be their one chance to speak privately to the head of Lands about their mission to stop the Tide.
Arden followed Kormick, once again, to the Eighths' tavern, where she watched as the criminals toasted him for his successful removal of the dwarf Vatik. Kormick skillfully turned their praise into a more general acknowledgement that he was the best possible Inquisitor for the Eighths to be friends with. Riding the wave of their approval, he then insinuated that, in addition to his personal services, his Undian connections might be honored to provide them—or wealthy clients of theirs—with exotic foreign narcotics and alcohol … smuggled, of course… very elite, very secret …
The Eighths boss leaned back, a gleam in his eye. "I may have just the client, in fact," he said. "Don't speak of this on the streets, but this very weekend there is to be a… party of sorts…"
Arden admired Kormick's skill. At the same time, she remembered the old nickname she'd given him.
Alleged the Just,, she thought, lowering her eyes to the mud-smeared flagstone floor, worn into grooves by generations of boots.
I will never understand all the ways of Kettenek, not as long as I live.
TUESDAY
Twiggy stifled a yawn as she helped Savina and Rose post a copy of the Affirmation in the unused stone courtyard where Savina had
resolved to hold Alirrian dawn services every morning. The light was palest gray, but the pre-dawn air was already warm, promising a hot summer day to come.
Practically speaking, Savina was attempting to reach out to the city's underground Alirrian population, who had been living in secret fear since the brutal
massacre of Alirrian monks in Cauldron in the dark days before the Affirmation. Less practically speaking, Twiggy suspected that this was a meaningful moment for Savina—her first time leading morning services, ever—and Twiggy wanted to support her.
It was well that she and Rose were there, because no one else was. Savina gave a little nervous look around, then smiled self-consciously at them. "I had an idea," she said, "if you don't mind waiting a moment more." She began to cast a ritual. Twiggy watched with interest, quickly recognizing it as
Bloom, the same ritual Savina had cast at the ruined Alirrian spring. The cracks in the courtyard's old stone came to life, green sprigs spouting forth in all directions. In minutes, the yard was alive with flowering bushes and climbing vines.
"It's beautiful," said Twiggy.
"It's a better worship space," said Savina, "even if it's just us—"
There was a thudding of boots, and they both looked up to see who was arriving. To Twiggy's not-entirely-complete astonishment, Kormick skidded into the courtyard.
"Ah, I'm too late," he said.
"No," said Savina, smiling broadly. "You're just in time."
"Ah. Magnificent. I happened to be awake, and I was thinking of—so don't let me hold you up. Continue."
Twiggy knew, from talking to Kormick, that Savina reminded him of his lost sister. Perhaps even he believed that his attendance was coincidence—but Twiggy knew that he was here because he cared. For a moment, she forgot to dwell on what a difficult task remained ahead. She looked from the panting man to the smiling priestess and felt deeply, wonderfully glad that these were her companions.
WEDNESDAY
"It says
what?" Mena demanded.
Nyoko looked down at the black card in her hands and re-read the gold-leafed script. "'The Adept Nyoko is invited this Saturday, midnight, to the'… it's a strange address, I think it's on the lakefront? anyway … 'and, per her request, to be accompanied by her lovely and exotic personal guard, Dame Filomena of Pol Henna."
"Lovely and
exotic? Me??!"
Mena heard a chuckle and glared around the room. Twiggy, holding an invitation she'd received via her apothecary friends, looked apprehensive but interested, a student waiting to see what her teacher would do next. Tavi, however, was holding his invitation in front of his mouth, which didn't quite hide the fact that his cheeks were twitching with glee. Rose, next to him, swallowed a single hiccup of a giggle and tried to look properly solemn. Kormick, holding his and Arden's invitation, looked blandly innocent—but his eyes were twinkling. He was getting far too much enjoyment out of this.
Troublemaker.
"They will regret this," said Mena, into their silence. "They left out 'seductive.'"
Even Arden stifled a laugh then.
"They will regret that, indeed," said Kormick. "I can't wait. Which reminds me…" He threw a small jingling pouch at Arden. "If you're posing as my servant, you should dress up. Nyoko, take the murder-slave out and get her some clothes that a dangerous person would wear."
It was a relieving start to the afternoon: knowing that they were all—except Savina and Rose, who said they were just as happy to stay home—definitely invited to the Indulgence Party.
The rest of the afternoon promised to be less pleasant. Turning down a tempting offer from Twiggy and Tavi to join them researching the prophecy in the Archives, Mena set out alone for the Establishment of Great Fortunes Yet to Come, the gambling-house temple of the Sedellan Fortune Riders. She was determined to make personal contact with
Sister Sweet Scent, who had been framed by the Tide and cruelly tortured by the Inquisition, and whose support they would need to complete their task.
She strode into the middle of the room, making no attempt to hide either her Defier symbol or the sheaf of papers in her hand. Silence fell across the tables filled with coins and cards. A Sedellan man approached her, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. His face spoke of suspicion and contempt, though he said nothing.
"Sister," Mena said to him, indicating the papers, "I bring all the information we have gathered on Sister Sweet Scent's wrongful imprisonment so that she, herself, can investigate if she wishes."
The man stretched out his hand to take the papers. Mena withheld them. "I will give these to Sister Sweet Scent myself," she said. "Please allow me to see her."
The man stood silently, his hand outstretched.
A full minute dragged by until Mena sighed. "Very well," she conceded. "But I'll wait here until you bring me her seal as a sign that she has, in fact, received these documents."
The man snatched the papers from her hand, turned, and walked away. He disappeared through a doorway and soon Mena heard his boots on the floor above. They walked to a point nearly above her head, stopped for a time, and then returned. The man reappeared in the doorway, crossed the room to Mena, and thrust a scrap of paper into Mena's hand. On it was a Sedellan seal, the wax still warm.
It was the best she could hope for. Mena took the paper, nodded to the man, and went to the door. As she stepped outside, she heard a male voice follow after her, "May the Lady's fortune be with you!"
Mena knew it was his blessing, one she had fought to win, so she clenched her fist instead of making a superstitious gesture to turn aside a curse.
The Lady's fortune, she thought.
What an irresponsible wish.
FRIDAY
For the fourth morning in a row, Savina looked out at her meager congregation of Rose, Twiggy, and Kormick as the sun slivered over Cauldron's rim. She began the sunrise prayer…
"Alirria, Mother, Lady of Dawn,
Awake in us your power…"
…but her heart wasn't in it. She was disappointed. Not a single Sovereign had so much as looked in on the services yet, let alone a secret Alirrian. And it was somehow disheartening to sense that her friends were here more to give her moral support than to honor Alirria.
"Restore in us your healing light…"
Then again, in a way, friendship was of the Lady, so perhaps Rose and Twiggy's kindness was its own form of worship. And Kormick—Savina was certain that Alirria had plans for him. He didn't know it, but perhaps there was a higher purpose to his attendance.
"Alirria, Sister, Lady of Spring,
Uplift us with your rising…"
It was no use. She was saying the words, but they felt empty. She was no priestess, not yet, just a very young woman play-acting the role of Honored Mother. No wonder nobody came.
Still. Only quitting was true failure. She held on through the end of the service and smiled bravely at her friends as she finished.
And suddenly there was a rustling among the flowering shrubs along the left wall. A woman stepped out of hiding. She was about twenty years older than Savina and wearing a nondescript kimono, but her air of authority was clear as she walked up.
"Welcome, Sister," the strange woman said.
"Welcome, Mother," Savina answered.
The woman nodded acknowledgement. "I would know why you are looking for me."
All of Savina's confidence returned in a rush like living water. She
had succeeded, after all: this woman was, without doubt, the leader of the secret Alirrian worshippers in Cauldron.
"There are many reasons why the seed seeks the sun," Savina answered. "Too long have the people here been without open guidance from the Goddess. We're trying to change that, and we need the city's Alirrians to come forth into the light and help."
"The last time we tried such a thing, it ended in blood."
"Times have changed," said Twiggy. "The Affirmation is truly the law now."
"A root can break a rock," added Kormick softly.
"Any man with an axe can break a root," the woman fired back, glancing at Kormick's Kettenite warhammers.
"I am already regretting my choice to use metaphor," said Kormick. "Let me speak plainly. Your people were horribly massacred years ago, before the Affirmation. We know it better than you might think, because we found an old monastery and a lot of souls of your Sisters who were unable to rest. Savina here
risked her life to bring them peace. And I say, if those wounds can be healed, maybe yours can, too. Give us a chance."
"You found the Sharpstone Monastery?" the woman asked, looking truly impressed for the first time. Then she shook her head. "I cannot believe it."
Savina held out the holy symbol she had received from the Alirrian spirits there. The woman seized it and stared. "You could have stolen this," she whispered. "Or bought it. If you have profaned it—"
Savina was too aware of the woman's real fear and pain to be upset by the accusation. Instead, in a moment of inspiration, she reached into her bodice and brought forth the
vial of Alirrian spring water that she had carried all this time. "This is from the holy pool near the Monastery," Savina said, and handed it to the woman. "Clearly it came into my hands only because it was meant for you."
She could tell that the woman could feel its power. "I have not felt something like this since I was a young
child at the Monastery*," the woman said softly. She paused, turning over the vial in her hands, then looked up with tear-filled eyes. "What, exactly, do you wish of us?"
They explained about their struggle against the Tide, adding that an official and authentic Alirrian presence would be essential when it came time for the
Synod to stand against the corrupt Mother Superior.
"I will consult with my sisters," the woman said. "I can promise nothing. This goes against all we have done for the last twenty years. But…" she turned the vial over in her hands once more. "It is the season for such risks. I will find you when I have an answer."
She turned to leave. "Mother?" Savina asked. "Should I—should I continue to conduct services here?"
The woman turned back. "You should continue," she said. "The underground river always needs new springs. And besides—"a twinkle appeared in her eye "—you still need a lot of practice, my dear."
__
* yes, that's a link to the previous Halmae story hour by Spyscribe, and thus to the adventures of Rose's mother Lira at the Sharpstone Monastery, where she met a young girl named Satsuki...
