Aphonion Tales (New posts 6/13, 6/15, 6/19)

[Cerebral Paladin]

Shortly after Lady Constance returned to her tower, Mahler brought news from his meeting with the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Mahler had received his pick of the high offices of the land, because of the new Archduke's gratitude for his service and trust in his judgment. But, rather than accept the position as head of the Archducal household, Mahler had asked to be named as the successor to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. The rest of Alistair's inner circle ascribed that to the interest in trade that Mahler had demonstrated in both Lyneham and Tang, but a few of Mahler's statements about wanting power over the merchants suggested more. In any event, Mahler's predecessor had agreed to postpone following Archduchess Amelia for a few months to ensure a smooth transition and was carefully briefing Mahler on matters of importance.

"I have some unfortunate news about our external trade. As you know, almost all of our southern trade-- to the Cities of the Gates, to the refugees and the scattered settlements in the Sunken Land, and on to Tang-- runs through the Duchy of Brightspan. Brightspan has relied on that trade for a fair amount of its revenues, although the Duchy also has a great deal of prime agricultural land, producing both food and cash crops. In any event, Brightspan has recently drastically raised its tariffs, at least on through trade, by a factor of four."

Alistair winced. "Reducing the profitability for merchants elsewhere in the Archduchy, reducing the total amount of trade and thus our tariffs as well, and making it more difficult for the refugees to successfully build new settlements to boot. All while providing them with more resources to fund their armies, at least in the short run. I don't suppose there's any way to bypass Brightspan?"

"Not easily. We could route trade through the orcish lands, but the costs to defend the caravans would be tremendous, leaving aside the lack of good roads or other infrastructure."

"Why not just order them to reduce their tariffs?" asked Delbon. "Brightspan's one of your vassals, after all."

"That's not a traditional power that the Archduchy has claimed. The tariffs of its vassals have been considered their authority, as long as they properly collect the Archducal share," Mahler observed.

"Which means that if we intervene, we trample on their privileges and give any efforts they make to break free legitimacy in the eyes of other nobles. Not to mention the danger that other vassals would start questioning whether they should break free."

"So, what do we do about it then?" asked Dame Brionna.

"For the time being, I don't think we do anything," replied Alistair. "We don't have an effective response right now, and we have better things to spend our energy on. But we'll keep an eye on the situation and look for an opportunity to respond in the future."

* * *

Some weeks earlier, a great procession of drow emerged from the Underdark in the County of Gateways. Drowan merchants are not unusual in Gateways, although they are also not the most common of the Underdark merchants, but they rarely pass through the underground city and emerge truly on the surface. And this procession was no group of merchants. A ceremonial company of guards escorted one of the daughters of the Matron Mother of House Drisdania. Respecting Canberry's ways, as perverse as they seemed to the drow, House Drisdania had even hired free servants to carry the parasols that provided shade to the noble emissaries, bringing no slaves into Canberry to offend the Archduchy's laws. A company of ritual mourners cried out in sorrow for the passing of Archduchess Amelia. And at every crossroads, the strange procession halted. Its trumpeters played fanfares that echoed off the mountains and across the rolling hills. And then in unison the honor guard cried out, "Hail Alistair, Archduke of Canberry! Long may he reign!"

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Stythus departed to the Elemental Plane of Air, with Delbon along for company. Before they left, Alistair gave them each letters accrediting them as ambassadors from Canberry to the Plane of Air. Stythus's family rejoiced in seeing him again; his parents were very proud of his accomplishments, even if they were less clear on where exactly Canberry might be. When Stythus mentioned that the Archduchy desired an alliance to help his family and others resist the demonic elemental princes, his parents nodded with approval. "You have done well with your companions. But that is a matter for our Sultan to decide upon, not us. You must go to the palace and see him yourself."

Stythus's family served a mighty Sultan of Air, who ruled over a wide stretch of the Plane (although perhaps less than he had before the coming of the demonic prince of Air). A host of djinn guarded the palace, but they happily parted before Stythus. Between his own status as a well-born subject of the Sultan and the letters from an Aphonion realm with enough magical power that the better informed parts of the court had heard of it, Stythus quickly received an audience with the Sultan himself. Delbon proffered the rare perfumes that they had brought, earning appreciative responses from the Sultan and his court.

"So, young Stythus. You serve this Archduke of Canberry?"

"I do, your highness. I was warned when I came to the Prime that if I were not bound, an evil mage could make me his slave, so Alistair agreed to my request to perform the binding ritual on me to keep me safe. Once he returned to his homeland, he made me his squire."

"It is well that he treats you with respect. Most of the contact we have with humans is when they summon my people to work for them."

Delbon nodded his head. "Your highness, the Archduke asked us to make it clear that while he is interested in the possibility of your people aiding him on the Prime, he would pay, not compel, any elementals who served him. And if there are any services Canberry could provide here, the Archduke would be pleased to offer them. He seeks to reach an alliance between friends, not to make himself your master."

The mighty djinni smiled. "It pleases me to hear it."

Stythus added, "We have been fighting demons and their allies in Canberry. Alistair wishes to help you in any struggle that you might have with them."

"That is most welcome. This has been a vexatious problem. Very well. Let our realms be friends. Should your Archduke have a specific request later, we can can discuss it at that time. Thank you for bringing these tidings to me."

Recognizing that they had been dismissed, Stythus and Delbon returned to Stythus's family. Their mission having reached at least a preliminary success, they shifted back to the Prime Plane.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Kit decided that there were several "downstairs" contacts that she needed to check on. She first went to the local contact of her agents in the Duchy of Brightspan. She caught the contact going about his regular job as a clerk in the Archducal palace, and he knuckled his forehead briefly. "Ma'am?"

"Have we been receiving regular reports from the contacts in Brightspan?"

"Not what I'd call regular, ma'am. Now and again a message'll come in, but it's more a message here, a message there than anything regular-like. I'm worried our agents aren't sending much back."

Kit paused in thought. Based on what she'd been told in the Duchy of Brightspan, that meant that messages were being lost-- or intercepted-- between the Duchy and Canberry City. "When was the most recent report?"

"About four days ago. Some of the Duke's grandkids have gone missing. Not the heir or the spare, but the infants of his daughters. Not recently, neither, but it's been hid well."

"When did the children disappear?" asked Kit, as she thought, oh, no, she's using her own grandchildren?

"As best as our sources can tell, it'd be about three or five months ago. Call it the same time as the Archduchess started weakening."

"Any signs of what happened to the children, or where they might be?"

"Not that we've heard. One of the daughters went insane after losing her child-- they put her away, probably in a convent somewhere, but we don't know for sure."

"Thank you for this information. Let me know immediately if you hear anything more about this. Were there any other reports?"

"Just that the Duke hung the bodies of a bunch of skaven from the walls of the castle."

"What about Brady? Has he left the castle?"

"No, ma'am. Least, the report didn't say anything about his movin'."

"Thank you."

"Ma'am." He knuckled his forehead again and nonchalantly walked away as if the meeting had never taken place.

Kit's next stop was outside the palace. She took a turn down the closest dark alley, a few blocks from the palace square. Almost immediately, a stealthy figure shadowed her, remaining well-concealed but making sure that Kit spotted him. Kit leaned up against one of the walls of the alley and began casually cleaning her nails with a dagger. "I'd like to know what our people have heard about the efforts to start a riot during the coronation."

"Sure. Any of our people who work in the poorer parts of town could tell you about that. But before I get to that, you need to know... there's something bad going on in the sewers. We suddenly started losing people about forty-eight hours ago, in three places. Under the palace, under the poor quarter, and under the main market. I can't tell you what it is that's there, though; none of the people we've sent to look have come back at all."

"That matches some other information I've gotten. I think there is a demon at each place. Would you be able to lead some church knights to each location?"

"Well... I can't really say that most of us are very comfortable around the church..."

"Don't worry, they won't want to know anything about their guides, just where the demon-worshippers are to smite."

"Aye, we could do that. Can't say it'll make people happy."

"But I don't think losing people taking short cuts through the sewers makes them very happy, either."

"True enough. Now then... you wanted to know about the people setting up the riot? Not much to say. There are some fellows spreading a whole lot of coin around, among the poorer folk. A silver to throw a stone and create problems. Also giving out sweets for the small children."

"Anyone get a close look at one of these fellows?"

"Sure enough, but not so they could pick them out without their paint on. They're dressed up as harlequins, festive as you please, with face-paint and everything."

"Could you get me one of the coins they're using?"

"Sure thing." A glittering silver piece, very old and well handled, sparkled in the air before Kit caught it. She flipped it over a few times, and noted the unfamiliar face on the front and familiar elven writing upon it, even more unintelligible to her than Common writing.

"You didn't take their money..."

"Nah, we're loyal to you, you know that. But once the coin's in somebody else's pocket... can't let my fingers get clumsy, y'know." He quickly dipped his fingers into a cleverly concealed pouch in his cloak, drew forth a coin, and let it drop back in with out so much as a clink. Clumsy wasn't a word anyone would use to describe his fingers.

"Thank you. I'll be back in touch when we're ready to make the sewers safe, and I'll warn you so anyone who needs to make themselves scarce first can." Kit walked out of the apparently empty alley and hurried back to the palace.

 

[Quartz]

Just a minor nitpick:

Hmm... a young lady, even an experienced one, travelling alone down a dark alley? That's asking for trouble. Presumably only a few people know her status and she isn't well-known as the Duke's lady.

Consider it a plot bunny for later on.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Well, it certainly is dangerous to travel alone down dark alleys in Aphonion, regardless of gender. But I think it helps rather a lot that in Kit's case, many of the people you would ordinarily worry about in dark alleys work for her.

-----

After checking it for psionic energy and having Dame Brionna check it for evil, Kit tossed the coin over to Alistair. "This is what they're using to pay them, m'lord. Just bribing the poor folk to do what they're asked. It's elven, but..."

"Let me guess-- our friends the Noldar." Alistair flipped the coin over carefully. "But no. Interesting... I thought they were all dead and forgotten, or at least all but..."

"My lord?"

"It's not a Noldar coin. It's Eldron. When the first elves chose between the Creator and Morgrath, and divided into the Eldar and the Noldar during the first war, a select few refused to take sides, and kept using the term Eldron for themselves. Neither side forgave them, as both viewed them as traitors and apostates, and both the Eldar and the Noldar warred upon the Eldron during the Kinslaying. They're all but extinct now; perhaps a half-dozen remain. This is clearly a horde coin, from some ancient collection."

Before they could discuss the matter further, Abigail entered. "Your grace? There are two flying ships approaching the palace from opposite directions. They slowed to match speeds about forty-five miles from the City, and as best as the guard can tell they'll arrive at exactly the same time, in a few minutes. One is a voller from the Forest of Singing Leaves. They say the other is a Noldar dreadnought."

Mahler laughed. "They're deliberately making you choose. You'll have to honor one of the ambassadors and slight the other."

"You could make them both wait, I suppose," said Dame Brionna. "Show them what Canberry thinks of their childishness, your grace."

"And what would that get us?" replied Alistair. "Besides, between Canberry's most ancient ally and the strongest other force for good in Southern Drucien on the one hand and an evil delegation nominally tied to the people who've been trying to murder me, and mostly only invited because we don't dare not, on the other, it's not a very hard choice."

By the time the two airships docked, the Archduke and an honor guard waited at the west tower. A substantial complement of elven warriors lined the sides of the voller. While the elven troops were largely ceremonial, Dame Brionna noted with horror that the powerful energy lances mounted on the ship as a broadside had been charged, as if in expectation of imminent battle, and carefully trained on the dreadnought at the far side of the palace. Her eyes widened as she imagined the carnage a battle would wreak on the entire city below the airships.

"Relax," said Alistair. "Neither the Eldar nor the Noldar want a battle here. They're just maintaining appearances and preventing the other side from getting any ideas. Still, you might want to tell the palace guard that if a battle should break out, they should attack the Noldar ship. They might land a lucky arrow, or at least distract one of the drow slightly. But I really can't imagine that it will be necessary." Inexplicably, his words did not appear to relieve Dame Brionna at all.

The Eldar Ambassador, Lord Everglowing Silverleaves, descended to the palace alone. He was tall and thin, even for an elf, with a serene expression and an almost ethereal paleness to his skin. His rainment was princely, shimmering with all the colors in the rainbow as the light played across what looked to be mithril chain woven so finely as to be more cloth than mail.

"Welcome to the Archduchy of Canberry, Lord Silverleaves."

"Thank you, your grace. It is always a pleasure to visit your land, although I do wish that it were under happier circumstances. Archduchess Amelia's passing is a great loss for all of us. She was a great woman and a wise ruler. The loss saddened all of the Forest of Singing Leaves, and it must be felt even more keenly by her country and family."

"Thank you."

The barest hint of a smile appeared on the Eldar's face. "We are pleased that you honored us when the ships arrived."

"There was never any doubt of that, your lordship. Canberry has always held the Forest of Singing Leaves as its closest and most honored ally. We stand with you in all things," the Archduke replied. "Speaking of our alliance, I must trouble you with a serious matter. The Forest should prepare its defenses immediately. A large army has been amassed to the west of Canberry. I do not know their target for certain, but I fear that they may intend to strike at the Forest. If they do, they will likely attack with allies from Hanal at the northwest of the Forest, and with the support of the Zorplona-Aragoni."

"I will inform Her Majesty immediately. I cannot believe they would dare such a thing, as no human army, even with the support of our fallen cousins, could hope to prevail."

"Of course not. Nonetheless, they may not realize this, and it will go better if you are ready. Our primary reason for fearing that they mean to attack is that we have been unable to identify any other reasonable target. We also wish to personally assure you that, although some in the army to the west may fly the standard of Canberry or its vassals, we remain loyal to our friends. If the attack should come, call on Canberry for aid, and we will march to your aid immediately."

"Thank you; I will inform the Queen. And now, you had best go see my aunt. I am honored that you chose to see me first, but it would not be prudent to keep her waiting. We will have time enough to speak later."

"Thank you, Lord Silverleaves. But before I go-- you will presently receive an invitation from the emissary from Tang-- the One of Diplomacy, I should think-- to a meeting to discuss increased trade among Tang, Canberry, Singing Leaves, and Masque. Please accept. It is actually being sent on my behalf, to discuss more important strategic matters."

Lord Silverleaves raised one eyebrow. "Indeed. I await the trade discussions eagerly."

The Archduke, Dame Brionna, and the ceremonial guard hurried across the palace as quickly as they could, pausing only to regain their breath before greeting the Noldar ambassador.

As they stepped out to the eastern landing, an elf in robes of flowing crystal descended from the dreadnought, followed by a group of eight clockwork automata. Her skin was pale, so that any who were not well-informed might have supposed that she, too, was of the elves loyal to the Creator. But the handful of drow upon the dreadnought-- apparently just enough to work the energy lances that throbbed with barely restrained destructive power-- left no doubt about her actual status as one of the dread Noldar. To Dame Brionna's relief, none of the drow accompanied the ambassador off the ship.

"Welcome to Canberry, your excellence."

"Thank you. And thank you for the courtesy of not making me wait long while you met with my counterpart."

"We would not wish to do anything to show disrespect. Our relationship with the Forest of Singing Leaves required that we welcome their ambassador first, but we kept the delay as brief as possible."

"I understand and appreciate your effort. Archduchess Amelia always was a sensible woman; I'm glad that her family retains some of her nature. Her death is a great loss for Canberry, and after such a short reign."

"My grandmother was a great woman, and all of Canberry mourns her passing."

"As well you should."

"Your excellence, we understand that you have close ties to Region 9 of the Zorplona-Aragoni. We have been very pleased to note Region 9's recent changes in policy and hope that you will convey our respect and admiration to the Controller. While no trade with Canberry was possible while the old policy remained in effect, abolishing the slave trade allows us to discuss other forms of trade."

"It would be my pleasure to pass on your message. Though he is of the Moriquendarim, the father of the Controller of Region 9 had the good sense to marry one of my nieces. My house, the Curini'rim, does not approve of the sale of human flesh. It is beneath us and devices can provide better service than any slave. It pleases me that my great-niece has focused her energies on more worthwhile projects than the slave trade."

"If it would not be too much trouble, we were curious about a fellow Noldar we have had some dealings with. I regret that Region 6 does not have as reputable policies as your great-niece's region."

"I would be happy to answer your question, provided it does not probe to deep."

"Do you recognize the Noldar represented on this parchment, your excellence?"

"Indeed. It is one of the sisters of Quinliart of the Moriquendarim. He is the Controller of Region 6. And I must say, that is a remarkably accurate depiction."

"Thank you for informing us. We suspected she might be affiliated with Region 6 but were not certain. The image was produced by a magical process."

"I thought as much."

"We also wish to know... some years ago, a Noldar accompanied by a group of drow established an outpost in unclaimed mountain territory, near our borders. The Noldar declared an affiliation with House Aufaugauthala'rim. But I did not think that house would have drow under them."

"Impossible. Almost all of the drow that remain in service to Morgrath are of the Moriquendarim. Some of the other houses maintain a few drow followers; my house has one small cadet house of drow, to take care of such things as my creations cannot, but that are beneath ourselves. But the Aufaugauthala'rim do not tolerate any imperfection in their children and would not associate with any drow subservient to another house. That outpost is most assuredly not theirs, if the Noldar is served by drow. It is almost certainly of the Moriquendarim."

"Thank you. That was as I expected."

"Now, if you will excuse me, your grace, I should like to rest for a bit. And then I think I will invite my nephew to tea." She smiled coldly. "And you can tell your captain that she may relax. When we rose up under Morgrath against the false oppressor, one of my brother's abandoned our rightful god. I would not wish any harm to come to his son and there is thus no danger that we will bring violence to your coronation."

"Thank you for the reassurance, your excellency. I'm sure that Dame Brionna is very pleased to hear that." With that, they took their leave of the Noldar ambassador and returned to Alistair's apartments. "When Lord Silverleaves referred to his aunt, I had no idea that he meant it literally..."

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

While the Archduke and Dame Brionna handled ceremonial matters, a few of their less noticeable comrades went to the poorer quarters of the city to investigate. Twang, the enthusiastic kobold, had trouble following most of the details of the political matters being discussed. But he understood that he needed to investigate the costumed people distributing money to provoke a riot, and that was all he needed to understand. Stythus accompanied the young kobold invisibly, to add an extra pair of eyes and to protect Twang if things went sour.

Twang quickly found one of the least reputable taverns in the city. Even in the poorest parts of the city, a kobold draws plenty of attention, but Twang did a reasonable job of blending in-- just another poor creature trying to get a tankard of ale. After glancing at him a little, the bar keep decided that his copper was as good as anyone else's and drew an ale for him. Twang immediately set to work on it, the tankard comicly large in his small hands, while he and Stythus waited.

After only a few minutes, a thin figure with harlequin make-up, including a full coating of white face with a prominent black lightning bolt through one eye, stepped gracefully into the tavern. The harlequin thrust his hand into a pouch and came out with a fistful of silver that he scattered on the floor. "Throw a rock, earn a silver. If you strike a guardsman, I'll make it two." Another handful clattered about the tavern's floor. "Throw a stick."

Stythus stared at the demagogue carefully. He did not detect any psionic activity from the figure, exactly, but there was definitely something there, a patina of psionic activity over the figure. He relayed this silently to Twang, who hopped down from the bar and swaggered over.

"I take coin, but why you give? I new here. Why you want throw stone?"

The harlequin looked down at the kobold. "My lord is devoted to ending the rule of this unjust lord Alistair. Perhaps you would throw a pail of paint?" He offered a small bucket to Twang from a concealed place in the pouch, which had a surprisingly large volume for its small size.

"I do that." While Twang continued talking, Stythus drifted closer, examining the psionic aura. After a moment, he was sure: it was a farsensing aura, not generated by the harlequin, but the effect of some other psion's power.

But as Stythus realized that, the harlequin looked up and stared directly at him. The strange figure reached out a hand towards Stythus and spoke, his voice sounding slightly different than it had before, although that might simply be the note of command in it. "Who are you, where are you, you will speak to me..."

Stythus recoiled from the harlequin, but could not move quickly enough. The figure stiffened like a statue and stopped speaking. But Stythus could feel the farsensor's presence as it reached into his mind. Unable to repel it, he stood helpless as it searched through his memory and identified his connection to the Archduchy.

<<The Archduke's personal squire?>> Stythus heard in his mind. <<What has this fool done?>>

The harlequin collapsed to the ground, not breathing. Stythus could see the patina of psionic energy fade, as he felt that his mind was free once more. He sent a message to Twang. <<I was attacked psionically. Whoever did it is gone now.>>

As soon as it was clear that the harlequin was dead, most of the other people in the tavern dove on the purse, coming away with great handfuls of money. Only the barkeep stood aloof, sure that any coins they might get would find their way into his pouch soon enough. <<They'll want to see his body at the palace.>> Twang thought back to Stythus.

A moment later, Stythus reentered the tavern, having shaped his form to resemble the uniform of the city guard. "What's this? Stand aside for the Watch. What's going on?"

The other occupants of the tavern quickly stepped aside with whatever coins they had managed to grab. Twang stepped forward and gestured at the harlequin. "This man, he come in here, he give job, he fall down. Take away."

Stythus hoisted the harlequin up on his shoulders. "Thank you. We'll handle it now."

Twang returned to his drink after Stythus left with the body. After he finished draining the tankard, he found Stythus in an alley around the corner. He relieved the body of its bag of holding, noting with pleasure that it was still full of coins and paint to throw on guardsmen, and they quickly made their way back to the palace.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Upon reaching the palace, they took the body, under Dame Brionna's direction, to a lead-lined room. That would provide at least some protection against further farsensing. Lord Alistair and Dame Brionna joined them to examine the body.

Dame Brionna looked up after checking the body for injuries. "He's dead, but there's no sign of physical injury. Based on Stythus's description, whoever the farsensor was probably killed him telepathically."

Alistair crouched down by the harlequin's head. He dabbed at its pointed ear with some of the harlequin's clothes, rubbing off the white facepaint and revealing jet black skin beneath. "As I thought. Drow. What's more interesting is the lightning bolt on his face. That's a symbol of Algaroth, the Father of the Darkened Elves, and one of Morgrath's servitors. Which tells us that this was a Morgrathian drow, but it suggests a little more than that-- most of the Noldar treat Algaroth more as a king than as a god. This drow, and I should guess his master as well, probably belong to the minority that think of Algaroth as a deity. At least now we know it's more fallen elves trying to start the riot."

"That can't be good," Kit said. "I bet the Eldar could help with this. They might be able to trace back the psionic aura Stythus sensed. It's still there, but fading."

They dispatched a messenger to Lord Silverleaves, asking if he'd be willing to assist them. After a few minutes, Lord Silverleaves and his grandmaster farsensor joined them.

The elven psion knelt briefly next to the drow. "Yes... the connection is still very clear."

"He can't still perceive us, can he?" asked Dame Brionna in alarm.

"No. The connection has been inactive since he killed this one. But it's clear enough. This one served one of the Noldar. Quinliart Moriquendarim, unless I misread his signature."

Lord Silverleaves tilted his head in thought. "Strange. Quinliart is the Controller of Region 6 of the Aragoni slavers. I do not see why he would wish to disrupt your coronation."

"Quinliart and my family have a history of conflict," replied Alistair. "My father wounded him and killed one of his captains, and he killed my father and has tried to kill me. But his main motivation would be political. He wishes to shatter Canberry as a power, to eliminate one of your allies."

"But that does not make sense, your grace. Quinliart fears the skaven more than he fears any threat that Canberry could play. He needs the Archduchy to remain as a buffer against further skaven expansion."

"Nonetheless, he has already tried many ploys to prevent a smooth succession." Alistair held up one of the coins. "I wonder... could he have been planning on using the coins to gain psionic access to the people who accepted them? Command some sort of mass action?"

"No, your grace," replied the farsensor. "A paragon Coercer might be able to do so, but he is at most a grandmaster."

"A paragon? I didn't even realize that there were levels of mastery beyond grandmaster."

"No human has ever achieved more than grandmaster level, your grace, but some of the Eldar and the Noldar have. But Quinliart is not among them. He could perhaps use a coin to gain a link to individual people; he could certainly monitor his own agents, as you have seen. But attempts to influence the city as a whole would be beyond him."

"Lord Silverleaves," asked Kit, "We think he may be working with several other Noldar. Do you know who they might be?"

"Two of Quinliart's younger female relations are quite devoted to him. They are the most likely possibilities."

"We believe he has another nineteen drow agents working on creating a riot," said Alistair. "Lord Silverleaves, would you be willing to assist us in dealing with the remainder of his agents? I should think that it would be an opportunity to easily strike a blow against their forces, and I don't think there's any danger of your aunt intervening to defend him. Your farsensor can find them much more readily than we can."

"Indeed not. Perhaps... How many escorts did my aunt bring down from her dreadnought?"

"Eight, your lordship. All automata."

"Then I may bring eight as well without giving offense. If I rotate my entourage to include my farsensor, my archmage, my captain... Yes, I think we will do this for you. I will also play music during your procession. That should go some way towards defusing the tension of the crowd."

"Thank you, your lordship. We are most grateful for the assistance of your legendary music. Oh, we had one last question. These drow are paying in Eldron coins; a previous operation used an Aufaugauthalar'im horde coin. Is there any reason to worry that more than House Moriquendarim is involved?"

"I shouldn't think so, your grace. Their hordes contain many ancient coins, and I shouldn't doubt that they chose these coins as part of their deception."

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

The group returned to Alistair's private chambers. As they entered, one of the Archducal Guard snapped to attention. "Your grace! I have a message for the Captain-presumptive." Alistair gestured for him to speak and he proceeded. "Dame Brionna, we have received reports of a delicate situation in the south of the Duchy of Canberry. A large party of drow have been travelling to the capital from the City of Gateways. They appear to be some sort of diplomatic party; they have been offering praises to his grace all along the road."

Alistair turned and glared at Mahler. "This is all your fault. You had to tell that drow that an embassy would be welcome at my coronation."

"What? Oh, that's what this is all about?"

"I can't imagine any other reason for a drow embassy to be en route, can you?"

The guard cleared his throat and continued to address Dame Brionna . "The drow aren't the whole problem, though, ma'am. They were travelling peacefully enough, until a retired paladin rallied the people of his village to attack the drow. Said the forces of darkness were walking the land, and they had to be stopped."

"Oh, no," said Kit. "Did the drow destroy the village?"

"No, Dame Katherine. They showed unusual restraint. A few villagers were badly hurt, but the drow quickly withdrew and established a defensive position. I believe they occupied an abandoned church building."

"That has to just thrill the paladin."

"No, Dame Katherine. I believe he's preparing to lead the village in an assault."

"I think I'd best go handle this personally, your grace," said Dame Brionna.

"I agree. I think you're easily the best suited among us for it."

"Do we know who the paladin is?"

"Yes, Dame Brionna. A Sir Roland, of the Order of the Knights of Valor."

Dame Brionna first stopped in at the archducal coven and asked to speak with one of the more junior mages. She preferred to avoid any unnecessary encounters with Lady Constance. After explaining the problem, she quickly persuaded the mage to provide any necessary teleportation. She next gathered up the Grand Master of the Knights of Valor, a still-vigorous woman of about fifty, who was in the capital to attend the coronation.

"Ah, Dame Brionna. You must know that the entire Order is proud of your accomplishments. When you succeeded in bringing back the prince, and then your elevation to Captain-presumptive of his Guard... worthy accomplishments for any knight, and all the more so given your years."

"Thank you, Grand Master. But I regret that we do not have more time to talk. A serious matter has arisen, and the Archduke has asked me to seek your help with it."

The Grand Master stiffened and turned serious immediately. "We stand ready to serve the Archduchy in any way."

"One of our brother knights, a Sir Roland, has created a serious problem. He has attacked a drowan embassy on its approach to the capital city."

The Grand Master sighed. "Sir Roland is a good man. But even in his youth, he was less notable for his insight than for his courage. And now... he grows easily confused, but still yearns to serve the Light on the battlefield."

"Indeed. I hoped that you would accompany me to speak with him."

"As you wish."

Minutes later, Dame Brionna, the Grand Master of the Knights of Valor, and a mage appeared in a grassy meadow. Some two hundred feet away, the meadow rose up into a hillside, with a large church at the top of it. The church had fallen into disrepair-- even from here, they could see the spire of the church located in the actual village that had displaced this one. But the much greater problem was the mob of peasants, shabbily armed with pitchforks, torches, and the occasional shortsword, that surrounded the building. As they approached, they could hear voices calling out from within, in accented but clear Common, "Please! We are here to honor Lord Alistair at his coronation. We do not wish to harm his subjects, but if you force your way through the door, we will defend ourselves."

A much rougher voice, from the only man among the villagers with proper weapons and armor, shouted it down. "Do not listen to their lies! They are evil incarnate, and Glor'diadel commands their destruction! Bring forth the axes! Once we have weakened the door with them, we'll be able to batter it in and bring the Light back into that once holy place!"

"Hold, Sir Roland," cried out Dame Brionna.

He turned to face her. The beard that projected from his mail cowl had long since gone white with age, and she saw an old man, weaker in arm than he once was, but determined to do his duty one last time. "Well met, Dame Knight. I fear that I do not know your heraldry, but it is well that you would join us for our crusade... Grand Master!" He dropped to his knee as his eyes swept past Dame Brionna to the head of his Order. "I am honored indeed that you have come to personally aid us in destroying these evil doers. From the combined force of our arms, there will be no escape."

"Sir Roland..." The Grand Master began. "Dame Brionna, the Captain-presumptive of the Archducal Guard, and I have not come to aid your battle. These drow are not our enemy."

"Not our enemy? But they are evil. The very nature of the drow is evil, and I have confirmed through the blessings of our Lord Glor'diadel that they have evil among them."

"And yet they are not our enemy, Sir Roland," Dame Brionna. "It pains me, as well, to tolerate evil within our land, but they are an embassy, and one that Lord Alistair himself invited to his coronation. His Grace would be most displeased if you provoked a war with these drow-- there are many more pressing enemies, and the Archduchy's armies must be kept ready to fight the threats that actually menace us."

"And can Lord Alistair's judgment be trusted? They say he is a wastrel more occupied with chasing women than serving Glor'diadel. Perhaps his invitation to the drow was part of some villainy."

"You forget yourself, Sir Roland. Dame Brionna travelled for many months with Lord Alistair on his return to Canberry. And she is a sister knight in our Order."

"These drow are here because of their prior dealings with Lord Alistair. They wished to come out of respect for Lord Alistair, who had previously risked his life to save an innocent woman and her children." If Dame Brionna failed to mention that the literal object of the drow's respect was Mahler, and that they had all risked their lives to save the family from other drow of this House, surely Glor'diadel would forgive her. "These were not subjects of his, but strangers, simple farmfolk in the lands to the south. The Archduke is a good man. He is not perfect and is fallible, but so are we all. And if you get these good people killed trying to harm a peaceful expedition, your failing will be far greater than any of his."

"Even with our aid," the Grand Master continued, "you could not hope to defeat all of them. And while a glorious death on the battlefield would not be such a tragedy for us, think about the young people of the village that you have led here. There will be other opportunities to fight for the Light. For now, obey your Archduke, your Church, and your Order, and let them pass."

Sir Roland stared away. "I should not have allowed them to leave, had you not been willing to vouch for the Archduke. If he can be trusted, and he wishes them to pass, then what choice do I have?" With an expression that left no doubt as to how hard he found the task, the elderly knight turned to the villagers that he had led, and calmly and earnestly explained that he was wrong and that the people should return to their homes.

 

[recentcoin]

And I thought elderly people using cell phones while driving cars was dangerous....

Sheesh!

At least they don't incite the locals to break out the pitchforks and torches...

2 cents,

RC

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

The current Lord of the Exchequer provided Mahler with a convenient introduction to the Count of Gateways. "Your excellence," the elderly treasurer said, "you should meet Mahler Fife. He will be taking my place, when I finish my duties for Amelia. You understand that I've only agreed to help ensure a smooth transition. Soon, Mahler will deal with all of the trade matters you have hitherto discussed with me. He's a fine young man, and very able."

Lord Grushak Nosepuller, Count of Gateways, looked appraisingly at Mahler. "He seems like he'll do well enough, as long as he's not just a gutless accountant. But then, that's what I thought of you when we first met, and you showed spine enough." He gave the old Exchequer a warm smile and did not notice if the smile he got in return was a tad stiff. "So, tell me lad-- what would you like to know about?"

"How have things been in Gateways? Anything unusual to report?"

"Nothing terribly unusual. We did meet a pack of skaven on the way to the capital; can't imagine what they were doing around here. We destroyed them, of course. My guards could use the practice, and I didn't mind the exercise! Other than that... back home, things go as well as usual. We do very well in the trade."

"And things are peaceful among the merchant houses?"

A snort. "As peaceful as usual. Yes, I'd say things are pretty well settled. The houses are currently getting along, and we haven't had any recent problems with threats from outside."

"Which house would you say has the most power currently?"

"Most power? That's an interesting question... Most people would ask which is the richest. I'd say that the most powerful would be Goldglimmer-- there one of the dwarven houses, you know. But the richest would be Blowingsnoz."

"With a name like that, they can only be a gnomish house."

The Count smiled. "A good head on his shoulder, this one. Any other things I can help with?"

"Oh, just a small matter. Did Lord Davion Aufaugauthala'rim accompany you to Canberry City?" Lord Davion had the dubious distinction of being the only Noldar living openly in the Archduchy. A renegade from his people, Lord Davion lived within the City of Gateways, where he served as the General of the Count's Field Army. Mahler had previously spoken with his friends about getting Lord Davion's opinion on some of the Noldar machinations.

"Sure as lightfungus glows."

The old Exchequer added, "That's one of his excellence's charming Underdark colloquialisms. He means yes."

"I got that, thank you. Any thoughts on where I might meet up with him? I should like to have a word or to with him as well."

"He's out at a tavern, drinking the water that passes for liquor up here, if you'll pardon my saying so. I think he favors the Griffin's Golden Hind."

After a few more minutes of conversation, Mahler excused himself and headed out into the City, to pay a visit at the Griffin's Golden Hind.

The Griffin's Golden Hind was a posh wine bar in an enormously wealthy section of the capital city. As Mahler walked towards the door, a large black insect outside held out one of its forelegs. "Sir! No weapons longer than a handspan are permitted inside."

Mahler smiled. "Longer than whose handspan?"

The insect startled for a moment. "I... I do not know. Wait here." It quickly returned with a small book of rules. "It says no longer than the handspan of the patron in question."

Mahler considered pushing the point, but then simply surrendered his rapier and passed into the tavern. He quickly reached Lord Davion's table.

"Lord Davion? May I join you for a drink."

"Certainly. I am afraid I do not know your name."

"I am Mahler. I know of you from the City of Gateways; I am from Gateways myself."

"Ah, are you? Welcome then. While Gateways is my home by choice, not birth, I am always happy to meet a fellow from my city."

"And it's an honor to meet one such as yourself, Lord Davion." The Noldar simply nodded, taking that praise as merely his due. "I am a counselor to the Archduke, and hoped you would be able to provide us with some insight into the plans of the Noldar. If you would not object, I would be curious on your perspective on the conflict between Regions 6 and 9 of the Zorplona-Aragoni. Do you think that it could rise to open warfare?"

"There is much distrust there. Under ordinary times, House Moriquendarim would not tolerate any possibility of it rising to open conflict-- the House itself would intervene to settle any disputes. But the House cannot do so now, and probably will be unable to for a score of years or so." Lord Davion took a drink of wine. "You must understand, there's a succession struggle within the City of the Sickle Moon. The eldest lord passed, which doesn't mean the same thing among my people as it does among yours, but he passed sixteen months ago without a clear successor. Now, the uncle of the Controller of Region 9 and the father of the Controller of Region 6 both make claims on the lordship. Both controllers are now young; the Controller of Region 9 replaced her uncle, to allow his bid, the Controller of Region 6 was appointed by his father to set up his bid years earlier. They are left to something of their own devices, but they dare not waste resources that their elders could use to press their claims for mastery within the House. The Controller of Region 9 is an innovator, a geneticist uninterested in slavery. The Controller of Region 6 is a traditionalist, who views giving up slavery as unthinkable... I find it hard to come up with anything that you would view as unthinkable in the same way as he views giving up slavery. It is perhaps akin to your Lord Alistair giving his throne to a dog-- a literal dog. And so, he views her as a traitor to the ways of his House-- much as many would view me-- while she views him as a relic of an older time."

"We have heard some rumors that he may be mustering an attack on the Forest of Singing Leaves. He has definitely sought to kill Lord Alistair in an effort to weaken the Forest's allies."

Lord Davion shook his head slightly. "He would never be permitted to attempt to overthrow the Forest of Singing Leaves if the House were in full control. Why, you might ask, given the hatred his people have for the Eldar? Because it wastes resources that could be used ultimately in the struggle against the Elder Wood. All of the more senior members of all the Houses know that the ultimate struggle will be between the Empire of Krashmere, and its Noldar, and the Elder Wood that holds most of the remaining Eldar and their strongest children. Anything that dissipates Noldar power elsewhere would be recognized as foolishness. But the House is not in full control, and were he to win a great victory against the Eldar, it could shift the succession in his father's favor."

"We know he has some allies among the Noldar."

"He's relying on his cousins. Were he to marry a Noldar, he could also rely on her power, but he has been singularly unable to find a match; most of the young are less fanatic than he. And so he is left depending on two of his female cousins for support. And they idolize him. Their upbringing... displeased me. I thought about intervening, but it would not be my place. They are not of my House... and I left my House behind when I chose to marry a mortal and become a renegade. I have no regrets-- any sacrifice would be worth it for my wife. But I cannot interfere with them now."

"With the end of slaving in Region 9, and Region 6 curtailing its slaving among the refugees because of the Archduchy's involvement... the supply of slaves must be tighter. Surely there are others who wish to fill the void?"

"Slaves are much scarcer, and prices are rising in response. Goldorim is particularly hurting for slaves; each step has become much more expensive, from the initial capture to their hands."

"Do you think that Region 6 wishes to profit from this?"

"Wishes to, certainly, but it has little ability to. He doesn't have that many slavers, and it takes hundreds of years to train a good slaver. They must not damage the merchandise, must delouse and deworm them. All over the world, the opportunities for slaving have become more difficult. There is little slaving on Zest'Qua since the fall of Caldefor. Regions 7 and 8 have little opportunity, with only the orcs and the barbarians to hunt among. There was little ever on Khamista, besides picking over the ruins of Pardun. And in Region 6, Hanal and Masque's expansion cuts down on their opportunities. The days when the Noldar could make themselves rich from slaving are waning, and the Controller of Region 9 is wise to be shifting her focus. For the Regions that continue to focus on the slave trade, not more than two centuries are left for the Zorplona-Aragoni."

"I thank you for your information; Lord Alistair will appreciate it greatly. We are fortunate that you have chosen to make your home with us."

Lord Davion nodded and continued with his drink. After a moment, he stared intently at Mahler. "I have found the past half-century among your people more rewarding than the millenia before that among my own people, and, as I said, I do not regret my choice. And yet... I do not understand how you could stand the sorrow. I'm watching my wife fade... and we've only had a brief 40 years. I have half-human children, and they age before my eyes."

Nothing Mahler said could comfort Lord Davion.