Paridon Book II: A Taste For Power (IC)

Chapter 1: Pluck

"Ah, Gis, please! Do come in, sit and enjoy!"

Gis enters the great hall at D'Marosso Manor, set with a large table. The table is covered with food and drink, sights and smells from faraway lands.



At the head of the table sits a very large man. His doublet stretches at the seams to contain his girth, his cheeks are full and round, and his bejewelled rings appear to threaten to pop off his sausage-like fingers. The portly Lord Gustav D'Marosso grabs a snail shell and sucks out the animal inside with a flick of his tongue.

Gingerly, Gis approaches. He feels small at the display, far more used to his simple military fare.

"Haha, no, no worries, you're most welcome! Put some meat on those bones, have an eel!"

"Your honor, thank you for seeing me at this--"


"No, no, don't 'your honor' me! We're all good friends here, now, aren't we? Please, come." The judge's voice grows stern. "I said, sit."


Gis sits. Gustav sticks a pair of tongs into a steaming tureen, and pulls out some bizarre crustacean. It snaps back and writhes in his grasp, but he simply holds it firmly and pulls off a leg.


Crunching away, Gustav continues, "So, Gis, you must tell me, how is the Rose Company?"


"They have had a very harrowing time. Perrin has put in for a transfer again, and this time it looks permanent."


"Ah, well, he always had a yellow streak. Pity about Torhan, too, but I suppose he was too compassionate for his own good."

"Indeed. There is still some question about Calahan. His instability is giving the others pause, but they still defend him."


"Give it time. He or they will come aorund. He's more stable than even he realizes, unfortunately. How about Fr. Berman? He's who I'm most interested in." Gustav wrenches a claw off his captive, and drizzles the wriggling blood over a plate of tentacles.


Gis winces. "He remains quiet, but he performs admirably. He does not flinch from his task, and was not for an instant distracted by the gnome women."


"Good, good! That dedication to Paridonese ways will serve him very well. Very well indeed!" He stabs his victim's carapace with a knife to end its writhing. He combines the claw meat with a spear from an oddly shaped fruit.



"Darian, though... does he still fancy that gnome?"

"Possibly, I'm not sure. She hasn't been charged, she's still in custody."

"Heh, best place for her. He's making progress, we'll see what happens. He has pluck. And Ru? Does he still pine for his old ways?"

"No, thankfully. He remains resolute and in control, though he doubts his successes in this past mission." Gis pauses a moment before continuing. "I've increased the team, as you recommended. They should be formidable against their next challenge..."

Gustav takes a gargantuan bite. Gis, having not touched a single thing, clears his throat. "Sir, I am certain that Paridonese cuisine, as the height of culture, could certainly sate your appetite..."

Gustav grins, speaking through bits of mashed arthropod and citrus, "Indeed, I've tried it all. Yet not a single dish would show the height of Paridonese culture."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Don't think I haven't noticed your fast. The food here, it is unfamiliar, not your style. Disgusting. Listen, this food is the height of Paridonese culture. We are the undisputed paragons of good society in all the land. Our craftsman make the most effective weaponry. Our people show the greatest devotion. Our sages are the most learned, and our leaders are the most inspiring. How do we know? Because we can prove it by force. We can overwhelm the swamps of Souragne, the bitter cold of Vorostokov. Why, the gnomes and dwarves have flocked under our protection. But why the conquering? Of what use is all this? Resources. We are superior because we are able to take what we want from the inferior. By claiming their gold, they know we are in control. By enjoying their wives, they know we are their masters. In short, if we cannot eat their food, how can we call ourselves better?"

Gis sits, stunned and chastised. "...Please pass the tentacles."

"Very good. Now, down to business!"

Rhiannon was mildly nervous about her induction into the Rose Company, and she remained alert as she entered. She wasn't expecting to be arrested, though some things she did may have been shady, primarily what she did helped remove dangerous criminals from the streets, or were directly in self defense. She did however, want to make sure she knew as much about her surroundings as possible.

As she waited in the room for the current members of the Rose Company to enter, Rhiannon observed and studied the other new members. Ms. Fleetwood's first observation was that she wasn't the only non-human present, unless she was encountering a particularly short, stout man. After her initial observations giving her a basic analysis of the group joining along with her, the current members of Rose Company entered the Garrison room as well, and Gis began to speak.

"Good to see you. I hope you are feeling better after yesterday. Based on those dangers, I've expanded the team. Perrin has moved back to the Enforcers, and these four should serve you well. In addition, I've spoken with the magistrate--he is more than willing to hear the case, and will be very understanding given the circumstances. We should go over the specifics, the charges, and the plans from here. Later this morning, the judge, Lord Gustav D'Marosso, will be calling for us, and we should be prepared. In the meantime, why don't the new members introduce themselves?"

Rhia paused a moment, before clearing her throat lightly and stepping forward slightly, to indicate that she was going to speak, so as to avoid directly interrupting anyone and to avoid being interrupted herself.

"My name is Rhiannon Fleetwood... in the past I freelanced in the business of finding missing persons or persons who didn't really want to be found. Occasionally I'd have to fight... and when I do, I prefer to be a bit at a distance. I'm also fairly good at... testing people's security measures..." Rhiannon nodded faintly as she drifted off, stepping back to where she started and waiting for the next person to speak. Hopefully her introduction was satisfactory.

The handsome, muscular and well-dressed man standing near Gis smiles at Rhiannon's obvious nervousness. He felt none of it; he had dealt with the constabulary on several occasions, and never on the wrong side of the law. He steps forward as Rhiannon steps back, his steel breastplate, shined to a mirror-polish, clanking slightly as he does so. His hand rests on the elaborately styled hilt of the blade at his side as he offers a short but courtly bow to the members of Rose Company.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, gentleman," he says, his voice a rich baritone. "I am Sir Skyler Martell, and my blade is at your service."

Darian walks into the garrison with purpose, his long stride and hard-soled boots pounding a heavy rhythm on the floor. The sight of the four strangers gives him pause, but Gis's quick speech breaks it soon enough. As the half-elf steps forward Darian quickly turns to a far corner and contemplates the texture on the walls. He absently pulls out a match and strikes it, the sound drowning out whatever it was she was saying.

Maybe they didn't notice, he thought as he put the match to one of his thin, cheap cigars, deliberately not turning his face toward any of them until there was enough smoke to mask his features underneath his sturdy tophat. He finally backed himself into a corner, propped one foot up on the wall and crossed his arms, only barely listening to the words that were spoken across the room as he pondered the small imperfections in the floor.


[sblock=Credits]Forgive me for taking a page out of IVV's book with the imagery...

Original images by JeremyMoore and RadioPato[/sblock]

Eugene Brasspin

"Good day. My name is Eugene Brasspin. I'm expert at alchemical substances and digging out information either from the city or from prisoners."

Eugene is pale, black haired man with surprisingly resonant barritone bordering on bass. He wears black clotches threaded with silver in manner of nobility, but his hair is marked with symbols of traveling barbarians that occasionaly come to the city.

OOC: Edditomas would come to him for more exotic ingredients for his experiment especially those that need to be collected outside of city limits.

The dwarf steps forward next. He is wearing a thin tunic, with a very fine chain shirt underneath. His beard is red, and is long enough to reach the ground. This is why it is braided and tucked into his belt.

He steps forward with his warhammer over one shoulder. He uses his free hand to point to himself with his thumb, and in a very over-confident manner he simply says, "I be Cliff Hammerstriker," as if that simple statement would answer all your questions. He gives off a huge smile, enough so that you can see his shiny whites through his beard.

He then takes a step backwards into his original position, and trips on the rug. After stumbling a bit, and nearly falling to the ground, he catches himself and blurts out "I meant to do that..." He begins to chuckle, and the overconfident smile immediately returns to his face.

Father Berman looks over the new recruits. The young priest's expression is hard to read, but he nods politely as each person introduces themselves. His butterfly symbol is displayed prominently, hanging on a necklace, and a fine dragon pistol hangs at his side.

"Welcome to the team. I am Father Brian Berman. As your chaplain, I am here to assist in your spiritual well-being, so don't hesitate to come to me privately if you wish to talk. Your fate may depend on it. I am versed in certain occult matters and the healing arts."

Ru Brike, barbaric human monk

"Well met, all. My name is Ru."

Ru is terse, though it seems more out of some discomfort than rudeness. While his clothes are well-tailored, his hair and beard tightly trimmed, he seems somehow ... out of place looking as he does.

Calahan, healed, though most likely with a few new black lines (scars treated with magic) over his hands and his face, still hunching over the table.

Fork in one hand, spoon in another.

"Mumblemumblemumble... Can't speak, must eat...Mumblemumblemumble..."

The policeman waves his spoon towards the newcomers, sparking something of delicious sauce all over the table, seemingly without noticing it...

Gis raises an eyebrow.

"The fellow policeman engrossed in his breakfast is Calahan," he pointedly mentions.

Gis continues. "Now that we've all met, here are the particulars for the day. Pigglemorth is in custody, has confessed to murder of one and being responsible for the deaths of seven others. We also still have Alek, Sasha, Marionette, and Kitten in custody, but none of them have been formally charged. We do have an open-and-shut case against Sasha for obstruction of justice, attempted ensorcellment of an officer, and acting contrary to the wishes of society, as a result of her sneaking Ada out of here. Locking her away is a mere formality at this point. However, that still leaves Alek, Marionette, and Kitten. If we are to charge any or all of them, we need to determine what are their crimes and what evidence we have."

Gis heads over by the breakfast table, and grabs an apple with satisfaction. He looks at it as one would a trusted friend, and takes a bite. "Lord Reverend Gustav D'Marosso will be the magistrate on the Gnomish New Year affair, and will see both Pigglemorth's and Sasha's cases. He has already mentioned a healthy interest in seeing the case of any other gnomes as required for the sake of society."

He turns to the four new members of the team. "I'll let the others go over the details of what happened over the past two days in the Clocktower district. They will have recommendations, and should you need to, all five gnomes are still here and can be questioned. Once you have everything you need, Lord D'Marosso will see you at his manor this afternoon. He will most likely discuss it over a meal."

Gis puts a hand on the breakfast table. "Have a good breakfast. It will be a long day."