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The Chronicle of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance *Updated May 17th, 2009*
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<blockquote data-quote="Mallus" data-source="post: 3679810" data-attributes="member: 3887"><p><strong>Interlude: The Gondoliers, part I</strong></p><p></p><p>Most visitors to the Gondolier’s<strong>[sup]1[/sup]</strong> Guildhall don’t realize that the ceiling should be falling down on them until it’s too late. They “ooh” and “ah” at its vast and flat surface high above them, elaborately frescoed, flaunting an almost painful attention to detail. Then some clever chap will notice there isn’t a beam, column, or even the slightest hint of an arch in sight. It’s completely unsupported, held up by air, giving the Gondolier headquarters the feel of a cathedral constructed for the sole purpose of being an uncharitable metaphor. </p><p></p><p>Architects call it ‘daring’, adjustors call it ‘uninsurable’, and mothers reflexively shield their children’s heads when passing through. Agora- and claustrophobics can finally agree on something with this space; the way that it’s both terrifyingly empty and just about to press them flat. It does, of course, have supporting columns. Dozens, in fact, scattered across the world, their tops connected to the ceiling by means of invisible Gates. Occasionally passing goatherds will stop to wonder why masons from the great city came out to the middle of nowhere to build roof-less temples, which invited all manner of speculation about bankrupt gods, spiteful roof-flinging Titans, and the inherent sickness of city slickers. </p><p></p><p>Lord Kenji and his retinue are neither afraid of nor impressed by the architecture as they sweep through the great hall on their way to a private meeting with Gondolier Captain Arramis Ben Donovan. Kenji idly remarks to Dr. Wu that he finds the place aesthetically displeasing, which coming from Lord Kenji might be construed as death threat against the artisans involved, while Burne bemoans the fire-proof construction. Rackhir alone likes the place, and then only for its lack of available cover. Joachim, Mercutio, and Mallus Lovesworn silently keep pace; content simply to add a baker, a fakir, and a heartache-breaker to the aforementioned company of butchers.</p><p></p><p>They’re here to discuss the danger presented to CITY by a Shirac mind-witch named Nadir Akmad-Medhi who has discovered the secret shrine to the Bad Hunger, a mad Elder god, beneath what’s now a thriving farmers market in the Little Ajakhan. They were invited because the Shirac rulers took them <em>very</em> seriously after their public dust-up with Nadir Medhi in the Great Bazaar in Marimra. The Shirac Board of Adepts did them the twin honors of first flying them on roc-back to their seat of power at the Miir Valley School for an audience, and then second, leaving them with their own free will intact after they declined an offer of direct employment.</p><p></p><p>Clearly, they were people to be reckoned with, pressed into civil service. Or failing that, made to disappear, quietly and sudden-like, say, into the mouth of an active volcano.</p><p></p><p>The meeting takes place in a small, tastefully appointed room dominated by a round, rune-carved hardwood table. </p><p></p><p>“This is the Sound Table,” says Captain Ben Donovan, taking his seat, “a priceless antique blessed by an entire <em>Jury Grand</em> of Barristers from the Courts Absolute. The Table reveals any falsehood spoken around it. Tell a little white lie and it starts keening like a Shirac mother who caught her son ogling a Gentile girl. Tell a whopper and it booms like indoor thunder. Get my meaning?” </p><p></p><p>“We have no reason to dishonor ourselves with untruths” begins Lord Kenji. Everyone present except the Gondolier holds their breath. Burne considers quietly arming his Destructive Engine, and then reconsiders, seeing as that’s completely impossible.</p><p></p><p>The Table makes nary a peep.</p><p></p><p>The Four Crazy Bastards, minus Meiji, who’s busy preparing for his date with the mysterious Lady Eve, breathe a collective sigh of relief.</p><p></p><p>“Please allow me to recount the crimes of the dishonorable Shirac Nadir Medhi…” continues the samurai. </p><p></p><p>Ever been sung to by a flight of songbirds? That’s what’s it like when Yamamoto Kenji brings the full force of his speaking voice to bear. Except in this case the songbirds have been dusted with opium and they’re carrying tiny knives. Captain Ben Donovan finds himself nodding in agreement. His jaw slackens.</p><p></p><p>“He compelled a giant to split this poor fellow’s head like a melon? We can’t have that.” says the Gondolier Captain.</p><p></p><p>Rackhir twitches.</p><p></p><p>“He’s seeks an audience with an ancient evil under a fruit stand? Good god!” </p><p></p><p>Songbirds continue to wheel around Ben Donovan’s head.</p><p></p><p>“Two counts of grand theft arcane <em>and</em> criminal manipulation of the local weather?”</p><p></p><p>One songbird brushes a narcotic wing against Ben Donovan’s lips as his fellows begin prodding the Gondolier with their knives.</p><p></p><p>“Of course we’ll do something! That’s what the Gondoliers are here for!”</p><p></p><p>Lord Kenji then inquires about the previous stirring of the Bad Hunger, during which several orphans got eaten. </p><p></p><p>“In the end we got one conviction and the Bishop swung like a thurible, but I always suspected there was more to that case than met the eye. I just couldn’t prove anything. Throughout the investigation we could tell the priest’s were stonewalling us, the whole lot of ‘em, going ‘oracular’ whenever we asked the hard questions. They really put up the Shield of Faith…”</p><p></p><p>Perhaps growing bored –it’s so devilishly hard to tell with him-- Kenji decides to end their business with a handful of words, wringing from Ben Donovan’s an offer of a temporary commission for the Bastards, entirely on the samurai’s terms. He then reads off a lengthy request for equipment.</p><p></p><p>Ever been given a hummer by an attractive person of indeterminate gender who probably meant you harm? Who also happened to be armed with a wickedly sharp sword? That’s what’s it like when Yamamoto Kenji brings the full force of his negotiating skills to bear. Feeling slightly dirty for a reason he can’t quite articulate, Captain Ben Donovan dismisses them and prepares to present Kenji’s request to his superiors.</p><p></p><p></p><p>The Bastards wait for word in a pleasantly warm solarium, lit by wan, winters' afternoon light. After a half and hour, Ben Donovan’s young female assistant appears.</p><p></p><p>"The Captain will be along shortly” says the young Gondolier-in-training. "Where are my manners?” she asks no-one in particular, "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Gilda San Gallina..."</p><p></p><p>"San Gallina?", whispers Mallus, "so she's an orphan, or someone’s bastard. The Gondoliers don't usually accept women. She was probably raised by them..."</p><p></p><p>Gilda continues, smiling, "... and we should talk a little about the existence or non-existence of 'conditions' on your commission."</p><p></p><p>"Or by a pack of royal press secretaries" sighs Mallus.</p><p></p><p>"Sometimes things go... badly. The wrong people wind up feeding the koi in the Grand Canal. Or the right people do, but at the wrong time or for the wrong reasons. It really can’t be helped". She smiles sweetly with the battle-hardened poise of a beauty contest winner.</p><p></p><p>"Is she saying what I think she's saying?" says Joachim.</p><p></p><p>"It's all for the good of CITY. We know you'll try your best. But if things take a... regrettable turn, remember not to cause too much fuss. If you get arrested, do your duty. Go quietly. We'll make sure everything is set right." Gilda says all this with an unnerving blend of complete naiveté and utter cynicism. "Any questions?"</p><p></p><p>Mallus stands. "Will we be given legal recognition then, something like a Letter of Marque?"</p><p></p><p>"Better. An official Mark of Marque! Except, we won't actually be, umm, putting a traceable Gate Mark on any of you, because we're trying to maintain something Captain Ben Donovan calls 'maximum deniability'. But your Marks will be duly recorded in the Annals of the Gondoliers. Oh, here comes the Captain. He'll convey you back to your residences via his Gondola, Leaf-On-Water."</p><p></p><p>"One more thing," says Gilda San Gallina, "don't offer his Gondola an apple. Or a sugar cube. She's not a horse, and gets very cross if you treat her like one. And whatever you do, don't give her a cigar, even if she asks nicely. It's a terrible habit. Especially when you're made of wood.</p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>[sup]1[/sup]</strong>The Gondoliers are a law enforcement agency mandated to keep the peace between the multitude of peoples, cultures and governments in CITY. Named for their small, magical, often animated or ghost-possessed watercraft, the Gondolier’s began as a front for the Gallinan Royal Secret Police, and remain based out of the Old Drowntown section of Gallina:CITY. They’re renowned for their diplomacy, swordsmanship, and the Gate-magic capabilities they receive from their close partnership with the Acadeum Gaeta.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Mallus, post: 3679810, member: 3887"] [b]Interlude: The Gondoliers, part I[/b] Most visitors to the Gondolier’s[b][sup]1[/sup][/b] Guildhall don’t realize that the ceiling should be falling down on them until it’s too late. They “ooh” and “ah” at its vast and flat surface high above them, elaborately frescoed, flaunting an almost painful attention to detail. Then some clever chap will notice there isn’t a beam, column, or even the slightest hint of an arch in sight. It’s completely unsupported, held up by air, giving the Gondolier headquarters the feel of a cathedral constructed for the sole purpose of being an uncharitable metaphor. Architects call it ‘daring’, adjustors call it ‘uninsurable’, and mothers reflexively shield their children’s heads when passing through. Agora- and claustrophobics can finally agree on something with this space; the way that it’s both terrifyingly empty and just about to press them flat. It does, of course, have supporting columns. Dozens, in fact, scattered across the world, their tops connected to the ceiling by means of invisible Gates. Occasionally passing goatherds will stop to wonder why masons from the great city came out to the middle of nowhere to build roof-less temples, which invited all manner of speculation about bankrupt gods, spiteful roof-flinging Titans, and the inherent sickness of city slickers. Lord Kenji and his retinue are neither afraid of nor impressed by the architecture as they sweep through the great hall on their way to a private meeting with Gondolier Captain Arramis Ben Donovan. Kenji idly remarks to Dr. Wu that he finds the place aesthetically displeasing, which coming from Lord Kenji might be construed as death threat against the artisans involved, while Burne bemoans the fire-proof construction. Rackhir alone likes the place, and then only for its lack of available cover. Joachim, Mercutio, and Mallus Lovesworn silently keep pace; content simply to add a baker, a fakir, and a heartache-breaker to the aforementioned company of butchers. They’re here to discuss the danger presented to CITY by a Shirac mind-witch named Nadir Akmad-Medhi who has discovered the secret shrine to the Bad Hunger, a mad Elder god, beneath what’s now a thriving farmers market in the Little Ajakhan. They were invited because the Shirac rulers took them [i]very[/i] seriously after their public dust-up with Nadir Medhi in the Great Bazaar in Marimra. The Shirac Board of Adepts did them the twin honors of first flying them on roc-back to their seat of power at the Miir Valley School for an audience, and then second, leaving them with their own free will intact after they declined an offer of direct employment. Clearly, they were people to be reckoned with, pressed into civil service. Or failing that, made to disappear, quietly and sudden-like, say, into the mouth of an active volcano. The meeting takes place in a small, tastefully appointed room dominated by a round, rune-carved hardwood table. “This is the Sound Table,” says Captain Ben Donovan, taking his seat, “a priceless antique blessed by an entire [i]Jury Grand[/i] of Barristers from the Courts Absolute. The Table reveals any falsehood spoken around it. Tell a little white lie and it starts keening like a Shirac mother who caught her son ogling a Gentile girl. Tell a whopper and it booms like indoor thunder. Get my meaning?” “We have no reason to dishonor ourselves with untruths” begins Lord Kenji. Everyone present except the Gondolier holds their breath. Burne considers quietly arming his Destructive Engine, and then reconsiders, seeing as that’s completely impossible. The Table makes nary a peep. The Four Crazy Bastards, minus Meiji, who’s busy preparing for his date with the mysterious Lady Eve, breathe a collective sigh of relief. “Please allow me to recount the crimes of the dishonorable Shirac Nadir Medhi…” continues the samurai. Ever been sung to by a flight of songbirds? That’s what’s it like when Yamamoto Kenji brings the full force of his speaking voice to bear. Except in this case the songbirds have been dusted with opium and they’re carrying tiny knives. Captain Ben Donovan finds himself nodding in agreement. His jaw slackens. “He compelled a giant to split this poor fellow’s head like a melon? We can’t have that.” says the Gondolier Captain. Rackhir twitches. “He’s seeks an audience with an ancient evil under a fruit stand? Good god!” Songbirds continue to wheel around Ben Donovan’s head. “Two counts of grand theft arcane [i]and[/i] criminal manipulation of the local weather?” One songbird brushes a narcotic wing against Ben Donovan’s lips as his fellows begin prodding the Gondolier with their knives. “Of course we’ll do something! That’s what the Gondoliers are here for!” Lord Kenji then inquires about the previous stirring of the Bad Hunger, during which several orphans got eaten. “In the end we got one conviction and the Bishop swung like a thurible, but I always suspected there was more to that case than met the eye. I just couldn’t prove anything. Throughout the investigation we could tell the priest’s were stonewalling us, the whole lot of ‘em, going ‘oracular’ whenever we asked the hard questions. They really put up the Shield of Faith…” Perhaps growing bored –it’s so devilishly hard to tell with him-- Kenji decides to end their business with a handful of words, wringing from Ben Donovan’s an offer of a temporary commission for the Bastards, entirely on the samurai’s terms. He then reads off a lengthy request for equipment. Ever been given a hummer by an attractive person of indeterminate gender who probably meant you harm? Who also happened to be armed with a wickedly sharp sword? That’s what’s it like when Yamamoto Kenji brings the full force of his negotiating skills to bear. Feeling slightly dirty for a reason he can’t quite articulate, Captain Ben Donovan dismisses them and prepares to present Kenji’s request to his superiors. The Bastards wait for word in a pleasantly warm solarium, lit by wan, winters' afternoon light. After a half and hour, Ben Donovan’s young female assistant appears. "The Captain will be along shortly” says the young Gondolier-in-training. "Where are my manners?” she asks no-one in particular, "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Gilda San Gallina..." "San Gallina?", whispers Mallus, "so she's an orphan, or someone’s bastard. The Gondoliers don't usually accept women. She was probably raised by them..." Gilda continues, smiling, "... and we should talk a little about the existence or non-existence of 'conditions' on your commission." "Or by a pack of royal press secretaries" sighs Mallus. "Sometimes things go... badly. The wrong people wind up feeding the koi in the Grand Canal. Or the right people do, but at the wrong time or for the wrong reasons. It really can’t be helped". She smiles sweetly with the battle-hardened poise of a beauty contest winner. "Is she saying what I think she's saying?" says Joachim. "It's all for the good of CITY. We know you'll try your best. But if things take a... regrettable turn, remember not to cause too much fuss. If you get arrested, do your duty. Go quietly. We'll make sure everything is set right." Gilda says all this with an unnerving blend of complete naiveté and utter cynicism. "Any questions?" Mallus stands. "Will we be given legal recognition then, something like a Letter of Marque?" "Better. An official Mark of Marque! Except, we won't actually be, umm, putting a traceable Gate Mark on any of you, because we're trying to maintain something Captain Ben Donovan calls 'maximum deniability'. But your Marks will be duly recorded in the Annals of the Gondoliers. Oh, here comes the Captain. He'll convey you back to your residences via his Gondola, Leaf-On-Water." "One more thing," says Gilda San Gallina, "don't offer his Gondola an apple. Or a sugar cube. She's not a horse, and gets very cross if you treat her like one. And whatever you do, don't give her a cigar, even if she asks nicely. It's a terrible habit. Especially when you're made of wood. [b][sup]1[/sup][/b]The Gondoliers are a law enforcement agency mandated to keep the peace between the multitude of peoples, cultures and governments in CITY. Named for their small, magical, often animated or ghost-possessed watercraft, the Gondolier’s began as a front for the Gallinan Royal Secret Police, and remain based out of the Old Drowntown section of Gallina:CITY. They’re renowned for their diplomacy, swordsmanship, and the Gate-magic capabilities they receive from their close partnership with the Acadeum Gaeta. [/QUOTE]
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