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[Exalted 2e] Chosen of the Second Age
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<blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 4709272" data-attributes="member: 5203"><p><strong>The Gentle Art of Persuasion</strong></p><p></p><p>Here we go, actual game play sessions!</p><p></p><p>Note that from this point forward the updates will probably be shorter than they have been. I was trying to get the introductory stuff done quickly, but I'm going to pace myself a little more now.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p> The four Heroes of the Dawn made their way south; their destination was the very heart of the Guild; the city of Nexus. Though none had specific reason to choose that sordid place over any other in Creation, Ghost assured them that information flowed through the streets as readily as silver, and that it would not be long before their fated path was made plain.</p><p></p><p> But Fate, it seemed, could not wait. For mere days after departing the hidden encampment of the rogue warlord Barrow Black, the Chosen had settled in a small river town on the northern back of the Yanaze, awaiting the next ship bound for Nexus. Kaliel and Zanka found themselves looking across the mighty river at the far shore, where the Guild’s great city perched.</p><p></p><p> “It is an evil place,” Zanka said, shivering at the thought that had the Unconquered Sun not intervened, she would have been dragged into that city in chains and sold for pleasure.</p><p></p><p> “I will not argue with you,” Kaliel agreed, “but it is as Ghost says – it is a good place to start. With luck, we will not be there long.”</p><p></p><p> It was then that the conversation of two sailors passing by caught their ears. These two, male and female, were garbed in the dress of the Guild.</p><p></p><p> “It was told to me by one of the Factor’s men themselves,” the male asserted. “Tunato has finally obtained a true artifact from the First Age.”</p><p></p><p> “He’s been searching for years,” the female replied. “What is it? Where did he purchase it from?”</p><p></p><p> “How should I know? I don’t meet with the Factor. It’s something called the Gentle Art of Persuasion, though – so I imagine that it’s not a daiklave.”</p><p></p><p> The two continued on their way. But Zanka had a strange look on her face, as though far away.</p><p></p><p> “What troubles you, Sister?” Kaliel asked.</p><p></p><p> “That artifact they spoke of…”</p><p></p><p> “Yes, the ‘Gentle Art of Persuasion’. What of it?”</p><p></p><p> “I think… that it was once mine.”</p><p></p><p> Soon the four Solars had gathered together, and Zanka relayed the overheard conversation. “The name of this artifact strikes a chord in my soul,” she explained. “A long-forgotten memory. This artifact was once mine, in the First Age.”</p><p></p><p> “Then we should get it back,” Ghost said, from his perch atop a wooden crate.</p><p></p><p> Ayama walked slowly around the group. “This Guild factor will likely contest her claim to ownership.”</p><p></p><p> “Let him contest all he wishes,” Ghost said. “It will avail him not.”</p><p></p><p> “And why would this Factor be so free with the knowledge of his acquisition?” Ayama persisted. “Would that not attract others wishing to take it from him?”</p><p></p><p> “Ah,” Ghost said, descending from his high perch with a flip, “he does not fear burglary. For Factor Tunato has never been successfully robbed.”</p><p></p><p> “How do you know this?” Kaliel asked.</p><p></p><p> “Because Factor Tunato is stationed in the town of Lynnisbrook, in the kingdom of Lagan to the north,” Ghost explained. “And it is a place I have been recently on other business.”</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">۞</p><p></p><p> The river transport pulled into the port at Lynnisbrook, and the four travelers took in the lay of the land. The city rose upon a hillside rising from the river bank, with the palatial estates of the wealthy looming down over the hovels below. At the top sat the palace of the ruler of Lagan, Lady Rinalta, who not long ago had been visited by Ayama and Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.</p><p></p><p> Ghost pointed to another large manor, on a slight rise all its own. “That is the estate of Tunato.”</p><p></p><p> “I do not see why we cannot simply bargain with this Factor to purchase the artifact,” Kaliel said.</p><p></p><p> “Because he will likely not part with it for any price,” Ayama explained. “Such things are symbols of status and prestige.”</p><p></p><p> “And you have heard the rumors yourself, repeated on the journey here,” Ghost added. “This man has never been robbed. Fate demands I act.”</p><p></p><p> “If that is the case,” Kaliel said, “then approaching this man socially will afford you the chance to scout your target before you strike.”</p><p></p><p> “You are as wise as you are large, my Northern friend,” Ghost said. “Perhaps there is a viewing we can get ourselves invited to.”</p><p></p><p> “That should prove easy enough,” Zanka said. “Just make sure you have proper attire.” She turned to Kaliel. “You may play the role of faithful bodyguard.” He only nodded in reply.</p><p></p><p> “I would know more of these tales of the Factor never being robbed,” Ghost said. “I will go and speak to those who would know of such things.”</p><p></p><p> “I will walk the markets,” Ayama said. “And learn the ways of the city. I suggest we meet here again at sunset.” With that, the four went their separate ways.</p><p></p><p> Zanka and Kaliel eventually found themselves at the Silvercap Tea House, where Zanka used her considerable skills to steer the local conversation to her whim. Posing as a scholar from the Blessed Isle who was researching First Age weapons, she and her ‘bodyguard’ eventually found themselves at the table of a Guild merchant named Jenko Saan. Though it was clear from the man’s lustful glances that his interest was in a discourse of a different kind, he hinted at having knowledge of Tunato’s recent acquisition. Through a perfectly balanced combination of medicinally enhanced teas and subtle innuendo, Zanka was at last able to get the merchant to reveal his secrets.</p><p></p><p> “I was one of the few the Factor invited to see them,” Saan said. “A private showing, shortly after he acquired them.”</p><p></p><p> “Could you arrange another viewing for a guest?” Zanka asked. But Saan shook his head.</p><p></p><p> “He keeps his treasures to himself, I fear – I understand that no one has been allowed to see them since. He is also not in the habit of entertaining at his home. But you said you were interested in weapons.”</p><p></p><p> “Many weapons of the First Age did not appear as such,” Zanka replied.</p><p></p><p> “If Tunato’s artifact is a weapon, then it is a poor one,” the merchant said. “They are nothing but a pair of fans. But if the lady is interested, I have a collection of rather impressive artwork back at my own residence.”</p><p></p><p> Zanka’s heart began to beat faster, as a flash of memory allowed her to picture the two fans, painted with some sort of dramatic scene. On the surface, of course, she remained perfectly poised, allowing only a slight flush to rise in her cheeks and bosom. <em>Let him interpret that as interest, or arousal, and keep his tongue wagging</em>.</p><p></p><p> “Could these fans not disguise a blade?” Zanka persisted.</p><p></p><p> “That is a possibility,” Saan conceded, “though when I envision weapons of the First Age, I picture the warstriders and energy cannons of Lookshy’s Seventh Legion.”</p><p></p><p> “Not all weapons are made for deployment against armies,” Kaliel commented. The comment drew a barely noticeable look of consternation from Zanka, a look that said <em>you are playing the role of loyal bodyguard. Loyal bodyguards do not interject their observations</em>. To the merchant, however, Zanka only smiled. “I, too, often find myself snared in the path your mind has taken. One expects everything from the First Age to be grand and awe-inspiring – my escort here is good enough to remind me that this is not always the case.”</p><p></p><p> “The only thing I saw about those fans that was unusual is that they were made of gold, but a very strange gold – brighter than I expected.” Saan smiled and placed his hand atop Zanka’s. “Much like the way you have brightened this room with your presence.”</p><p></p><p> The Quill of Heaven smiled demurely. “It would be of great benefit to my work if I could at least speak with this Tunato. You say he does not entertain at his home. Does he attend the functions of others?”</p><p></p><p> “Yes, of course. His position demands it, if nothing else.”</p><p></p><p> “Is there such an event coming up? Perhaps you could escort me to one.”</p><p></p><p> Saan’s face lit up, then fell. “In truth, my lady, I must depart tomorrow morning with the latest shipments of ore, and so have had to decline any social invitations. However, I believe there is a reception occurring tomorrow night at Lady Rinalta’s estate, which the Factor is sure to attend, and to which you could probably get invited easily, given who the guest of honor is. But that does leave both of us free this evening.”</p><p></p><p> For a moment, Zanka considered inquiring further about the ‘guest of honor’, but the merchant’s tone implied that if she truly were a visiting scholar from the Realm, she would already know who it was, and so to question him now would invite suspicion. Besides, she had what she needed from him, and was growing tired of every curve of her body being scrutinized.</p><p></p><p> “Alas, my heart breaks,” she said to him. “For I have already made an appointment this evening to consult with a local sage on another line of inquiry. The man is most difficult to reach, and I would be remiss in my duties to the Empire if I were distracted from my work.” She smiled. “As tempting as that distraction may be.” She rose, and extended a hand. “With the Dragon’s Blessing, perhaps we shall meet again.”</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">۞</p><p></p><p> Meanwhile, far from the Silvercap Tea House, Ghost found himself in conversation with a man in a dark corner of a disreputable alehouse. As was customary, no names were exchanged, though Ghost knew the man he spoke with was of some prominence among those criminals not affiliated with the Guild.</p><p></p><p> “So, what is the truth of these rumors surrounding the Factor?” Ghost asked.</p><p></p><p> “Are you contemplating adding your name to the list of those who have tried and never returned?” the man asked, eyebrows arched.</p><p></p><p> “It may be worth my time,” Ghost yawned.</p><p></p><p> “If that is the case,” the man replied, “then perhaps I can be of assistance. We have sent ten of our own into that house, and none have returned. Of their fates, we know little. Of the house itself, we know more. Were you aware that he manor in which Tunato lives was built before the Shogunate?”</p><p></p><p> Ghost’s eyes glittered. “Such a grand dwelling from that time might easily have its own defenses,” he observed. “Perhaps the reason for the lack of success until now.”</p><p></p><p> “True, but it also means that records detailing the home’s interior are bountiful. I can provide you with a map of the home as a favor, including places that it is likely the Factor has placed valuables. If you are successful where my own have failed, bring me the spoils and I will considered the favor repaid.”</p><p></p><p> “I will bring you all that you wish, save one item,” Ghost stated.</p><p></p><p> “The artifact, I presume? Very well – I would have difficulty finding a buyer for that item in any case. But you seem confident in your ability to deliver. Do you have a reputation to match this bravado?”</p><p></p><p> “I am Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.” A breach of protocol, to be sure, but circumstances demanded it – until his fame was such that he was recognized on sight, at least.</p><p></p><p> The man nodded in approval. “I have heard of you,” he said, “and not just from your aid to Lady Rinalta. For your reputation to have come this far north speaks of your skill.” He pulled a roll of parchment out from under his tunic. “Your map.”</p><p></p><p> “What can you tell me of the manor?” Ghost asked.</p><p></p><p> “The large room with the bay window on the first floor is likely his business offices,” the man said, “and probably where he keeps his most prized possessions. But I can tell you that the windows are unbreakable; one of our own apparently learned this when he tried to dive into one. There is a cistern on the roof, though I do not know the size of the pipes leading into the house.” The man looked evenly at Ghost. “I hope you can bring me something that is worth ten men.”</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">۞</p><p></p><p> Ayama wandered the many stall of the market, eyes and ears open to the activity around her. She had quickly gained a sense of the local gossip, none of it terribly relevant to her at this time, but useful nonetheless. She was also able to identify some of Tunato’s household staff by their livery. She noted with some interest that these people strode about the market with an air of arrogance and superiority that was surprising for common servants. She followed a pair of servants for a little while, hoping to overhear something, but the pair spoke little to each other, and seemed disinclined to communicate with the others in the market beyond what their business required.</p><p></p><p> As the servants strode brusquely away from a local baker’s stall, Ayama heard a woman tending an apple cart nearby mumble, “What a shame…”</p><p></p><p> “A shame?” Ayama asked, picking up an apple and examining it.</p><p></p><p> “My poor sister,” she said. “Was just released from that man’s service. Tunato’s, I mean.”</p><p></p><p> “What was the reason?”</p><p></p><p> “Spirits know why,” she replied. “He replaced his entire household staff two weeks ago. No warnings, no reasons. And those new people…” she shook her head. “Never seen them in the city before. And they… move strange.”</p><p></p><p> Ayama glanced over to see if she could detect this oddity herself, but the pair of servants had vanished into the crowd. She could recall that they were paler than most in the city, but nothing unusual about their gait. “My sympathy for your sister.” She filled a small bag with apples and handed over a half-yen. “Tell me, where may I find the shrine to the city’s god?”</p><p></p><p> “Far side of the market, take the main road up the hill, turn left at the moneylenders, and keep walking,” the merchant said. “But it’s not the right time of year for his observances, so you’ll find no one there.”</p><p></p><p> “I am meeting a friend there,” she explained.</p><p></p><p> Ayama found the shrine with little difficulty. The altar, as the merchant had said, was not attended by anyone, and a thick layer of dust and grime covered it. Ayama knelt and began cleaning the altar off.</p><p></p><p> She heard a voice behind her a few minutes into her task. “Excuse me, what are you doing in here?”</p><p></p><p> “It’s filthy in here,” Ayama replied without turning. “Filth spreads disease.”</p><p></p><p> “I would call it dusty at best.”</p><p></p><p> “I am eccentric in my beliefs on such things.”</p><p></p><p> “I see.” The person behind her sat down. “So, what is your story?”</p><p></p><p> “I came here with my companions, who seek information,” Ayama replied. “Unfortunately, I have no connections to persons who can provide this information, so I have spent my day exploring this city. I decided to come and pay my respects to the spirit of this city, and found his shrine in this state.”</p><p></p><p> “I mean no offense,” the man said, “but your story is not very entertaining, especially with all of the details you are leaving out.”</p><p></p><p> “Is it common for two people who have just met to exchange explicit details about their lives?” The Resplendent Sun wiped her hands on a cloth, and then rose and turned. “I am Ayama.”</p><p></p><p> The man who was behind her also rose. He seemed not terribly remarkable, appearing much like any other native of the region, yet his presence seemed to grab one’s attention. He appeared middle-aged and well-groomed, with well-worn sandals suggesting frequent travel. “I am the Storyteller,” he said in greeting. He extended his arm, indicating they should both sit.</p><p></p><p> “Storyteller. I begin to understand your interest in details.”</p><p></p><p> “I hear many stories. I make my home in the marketplace, listening to the stories. Some stories I tell, and others I do not. Some stories I am paid to tell.”</p><p></p><p> “I’m sure you make some good coin with your tales.”</p><p></p><p> “My coin is interesting at times,” Storyteller said. “For example, I receive a most interesting payment to tell the tale of a Guild Factor who cannot be robbed.”</p><p></p><p> Ayama’s brows rose. “It so happens that my companions were interested in hearing more of this tale, and the factor attached to it.”</p><p></p><p> “You had the look of someone who had heard that story. Of course, most stories have a kernel of truth, but are not entirely accurate. I’m sure you understand such things.”</p><p></p><p> “I am familiar with the concept,” Ayama replied. “If my companions were interested in hearing some of your tales, where could we find you?”</p><p></p><p> “I am always around,” Storyteller replied. “But for some of the stories I have to tell, you and your companions may not be able to meet the price. The Factor pays me well, and in ways that few others can.” With that, the Storyteller rose and walked out of the shrine.</p><p></p><p> She rose and returned to the harbor, where her three companions had already gathered. They found an alley away from the bustle of the docks, and regaled each other of tales of their exploits, and the information they had gathered.</p><p></p><p> “I still do not understand why Tunato would replace his entire staff,” Kaliel said. “The expense would be staggering, not to mention having to train them all without the experience of more senior members of the household.”</p><p></p><p> “Unless he was not given a choice in the matter,” Ghost observed. “Ayama tells us that the factor’s staff is seen as odd by the locals, and that they behave with arrogance unusual for common servants. Perhaps these are foreigners that have been imposed upon the Factor by an outside agent – to keep an eye on him, perhaps. Possibly part of the payment rendered for the Gentle Art of Persuasion; it could be that our factor has two masters now. I do know that he acquired the fans sometime within the last six weeks, though he has apparently been reluctant to reveal the exact date.”</p><p></p><p> “Because doing so could connect him with some other event which might identify where the artifact came from,” Ayama surmised. “Perhaps…”</p><p></p><p> But the attention of the others had been drawn by a ship now puling in to port. This sleek vessel was no ore barge, but a military galley flying the colors of the Scarlet Empire. Ghost peered at a smaller banner flying under the Imperial flag.</p><p></p><p> “House Cathak,” he said. “Odd. Most of the Imperial Navy is commanded by Peleps.”</p><p></p><p> “But what is a vessel from any Great House, let alone a military vessel, doing here?” Zanka asked, not bothering to hide her contempt.</p><p></p><p> They watched as a party disembarked from the ship. A scale of Realm soldiers fell into formation, escorting a woman in red jade armor. The daiklave at her side was peace-bonded. The procession began its march up the hill toward the palace. A significant crowd had gathered, but from what they could gather from whispered conversations nearby, it was not an entirely unexpected event.</p><p></p><p> “That would be the Cathak, I presume,” Ayama said.</p><p></p><p> “They’re here for negotiations,” Ghost said.</p><p></p><p> “Indeed,” Zanka agreed. “Enough military strength to show they take this seriously, but not to be too threatening.”</p><p></p><p> “I thought you told us that Lady Rinalta is an ally of the Confederation,” Kaliel said.</p><p></p><p> “She is,” Ghost said, “but she is also Queen here, and thus at times must not appear to take sides, or may even be forced into unpleasant arrangements. She is also not the only source of power in this land.” The Nightbringer paused. “It occurs to me that servants who had been born on the Blessed Isle and then brought here would not only appear foreign in their mannerisms, but might tend toward a certain elitist attitude toward the ‘barbaric locals’.”</p><p></p><p> “You think that Tunato has allied with the Realm?” Zanka asked. “It would be a plausible explanation.”</p><p></p><p> A few discreet inquiries in the crowd told them more of the arrival of the Realm. The reaction to the Imperial presence was mixed, those in favor observed that with events in the southern reaches of the Confederation drawing Lookshy’s attention, it left this part of the world poorly defended. With the Bull of the North campaigning against the Linowan, who were not so terribly far from Lagan, some felt that there was need for a stronger military presence, no matter whose banners they flew. Silver, after all, spends the same no matter who holds it.</p><p></p><p> Ayama regarded her allies. “We should speak with Storyteller on these matters.”</p><p></p><p> “An excellent suggestion,” Storyteller said, as he walked around the corner. “You have been listening to many stories this evening. Come; let us go somewhere where we may talk.” He glanced at Kaliel, whose hand was still on the haft of his axe. The Lightbringer slowly released his grip. Storyteller turned, and led the others to an out of the way but respectable tavern with a sign depicting two crossed picks. They found a table already prepared for them, with a pitcher of fine ale in the center.</p><p></p><p> “Kaliel I know by reputation,” Storyteller said. “Both before and after, if you are curious. The same goes for Resplendent Ghost of Midnight, and Ayama I have met.” He looked purposefully at Zanka.</p><p></p><p> “Storyteller, this is Zanka Odokari, Beguiling Flower of Dancing Lights,” Ayama said. Storyteller bowed and kissed her hand.</p><p></p><p> “Mistress,” he greeted her.</p><p></p><p> “Only if you are very fortunate,” Zanka replied pleasantly. “Zanka will suffice.”</p><p></p><p> “Do not feel badly,” Ghost interjected. “She turned me down as well.”</p><p></p><p> “So,” Storyteller asked, settling back with his ale. “What would you have of me?”</p><p></p><p> “First, I would know – are you the god of this city?” Kaliel asked.</p><p></p><p> “Oh, no, I am not him,” Storyteller replied. “He never leaves Yu-Shan except for the day of his observances. I am a teller of stories.”</p><p></p><p> “I understand there is a particular story which you are well compensated to spread,” Ghost said. “We would be interested in hearing the details behind that tale.”</p><p></p><p> “The core of the tale is true,” Storyteller said. “Tunato has never been successfully robbed.”</p><p></p><p> “And why is that?”</p><p></p><p> “That tale will cost you the next round.” Storyteller said. “No one who has attempted to steal from Tunato’s estate has emerged from the house alive. I do not know all their fates, but within the past month two have tried, and both were stopped by the guards. However, they were subdued, not killed – what happened to them after that, I cannot say.”</p><p></p><p> “Cannot say because you do not know, or because you are forbidden by your compact with Tunato?” Ghost inquired.</p><p></p><p> “Because I do not know. It is not a story that is told.”</p><p></p><p> “If we are speaking only of stories that are being told,” Ayama said, “I expect there are many about Tunato’s recent change of staff.”</p><p></p><p> “There are many stories about his staff,” Storyteller replied. “Both his literal staff, and the more vulgar euphemism, I’m afraid.”</p><p></p><p> “Does Tunato pay you to spread those stories as well?” Zanka asked, amused.</p><p></p><p> “No, he does well enough on his own. As to his servants, there are tales that they are all foreigners, or demons. Of course, many in Creation will equate the one with the other.” Storyteller paused. “Some of the quieter tales say that Tunato had his new staff prepared before he dismissed his old staff.”</p><p></p><p> “Suggesting he had this planned for some time,” Kaliel concluded.</p><p></p><p> “There is more. It is said that some of the old staff were not dismissed. Truly, some were never seen again by their families.”</p><p></p><p> Ghost frowned. “There is one thing I do not understand. Tunato has paid you well to spread his tales. Yet you have been quite forthcoming with us. What exactly is he paying you, and what payment do you expect from us?”</p><p></p><p> The entity called Storyteller smiled. “Tunato has compensated me with a rare coin indeed. What he believes to be merely a First Age manor is in fact a manse. His bargain with me allows me access to a portion of the Essence flow harnessed by this manse; the rest goes to him, though he is not aware of it. The geomancy of the manse was constructed in such a way to augment the mercantile efforts of the owner; though Tunato is not attuned to the manse, it does recognize him as the owner, thus some Essence naturally flows to him. Now, I am somewhat aware of why you have come here, and I believe that you are capable of making me a better offer.”</p><p></p><p> “How could one live in such a place and be unaware of it?” Zanka asked, incredulous.</p><p></p><p> “Geomancy is a lost art,” said Storyteller sadly. “And mortals are not sensitive to the flows of Essence. Before Tunato sought me out, I was subsisting on tiny scraps of worship from the marketplace. I do not even receive the annual observances any more. Once I realized the treasure he unknowingly sat upon, well, the temptation proved too much. I’m sure he felt he was getting the better part of the bargain.”</p><p></p><p> “So,” Ghost said, grinning, “if the people of this city were to suddenly experience something of a spiritual revival in regard to you, I assume that this would exceed the payment you receive from Tunato’s manse?”</p><p></p><p> “For example,” Ayama said, “If someone were to compose a work regaling the people about the City of Many Stories, and encouraging travelers far and wide to seek this city out.”</p><p></p><p> “I believe that would do nicely,” Storyteller said.</p><p></p><p> “Easily done,” Zanka said with an easy wave.</p><p></p><p> “Forgive my ignorance of such matters,” Ghost said to Storyteller, “but does your access to the manse’s Essence give you control over its defenses?”</p><p></p><p> “The manse has no defenses other than the guards Tunato has hired. Of course, the materials of the building itself are far more durable than normal, and the windows, as I believe you have heard already, are composed of adamant.”</p><p></p><p> “With the envoys of the Scarlet Empress here in Lynnisbrook,” Ayama asked, “is it possible that Tunato will be entertaining soon?”</p><p></p><p> “Tunato himself has not entertained nearly as much as he used to in the past three months, not that he was well-known for doing more than what was required of his position before that.”</p><p></p><p> “Is it likely that he will be invited to some sort of function at Lady Rinalta’s palace?” Zanka inquired.</p><p></p><p> “Almost a certainty. In fact, he is attending such a function tonight.”</p><p></p><p> “And do the guards become less vigilant when their master is away?”</p><p></p><p> Storyteller shook his head. “The opposite, in fact. Tunato typically takes one of his house guards with him to functions to act as a bodyguard; the remainder compensate for the loss of manpower by increasing their watchfulness.”</p><p></p><p> “How many guards are there?” Kaliel asked.</p><p></p><p> “I am not certain. I would guess between four and ten for a house that size.”</p><p></p><p> “More than enough to handle any normal burglar,” Ghost commented.</p><p></p><p> “But not nearly enough to oppose the Auric Lion,” Zanka said with a satisfied smile.</p><p></p><p> But Kaliel and Ayama frowned at this. “It is likely that there is at least one Immaculate monk on board the Imperial galley,” Ayama said, “if not in the Cathak’s escort. Drawing attention to the fact that there are Solars in the city is certain to draw their ire, and prompt them to send several more monks to this city, possibly even a Wyld Hunt. They tend to obliterate any who have associated with the Anathema.”</p><p></p><p> “And I am not well versed in being subtle in such matters,” Kaliel admitted. “And even without the Immaculates, there is the Cathak. She would not have been gifted that daiklave and that red jade armor if she did not know how to use them. And there is no way to know what weaponry they have available to them on that galley.”</p><p></p><p> “Thus it is in our interest, and the interest of Lagan, that we do not allow Tunato or his men to suspect our nature,” Ghost finished. “It would appear this is my calling. Which, of course, is what I wanted in the first place.”</p><p></p><p> “I have one final question for you, Storyteller,” Zanka said. “How do we know that the story of our conversation will not be spread, as you have spread Tunato’s tale?”</p><p></p><p> “Because there is no value in telling the story until it is concluded,” he replied.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Delemental, post: 4709272, member: 5203"] [b]The Gentle Art of Persuasion[/b] Here we go, actual game play sessions! Note that from this point forward the updates will probably be shorter than they have been. I was trying to get the introductory stuff done quickly, but I'm going to pace myself a little more now. --------------------------------------------------- The four Heroes of the Dawn made their way south; their destination was the very heart of the Guild; the city of Nexus. Though none had specific reason to choose that sordid place over any other in Creation, Ghost assured them that information flowed through the streets as readily as silver, and that it would not be long before their fated path was made plain. But Fate, it seemed, could not wait. For mere days after departing the hidden encampment of the rogue warlord Barrow Black, the Chosen had settled in a small river town on the northern back of the Yanaze, awaiting the next ship bound for Nexus. Kaliel and Zanka found themselves looking across the mighty river at the far shore, where the Guild’s great city perched. “It is an evil place,” Zanka said, shivering at the thought that had the Unconquered Sun not intervened, she would have been dragged into that city in chains and sold for pleasure. “I will not argue with you,” Kaliel agreed, “but it is as Ghost says – it is a good place to start. With luck, we will not be there long.” It was then that the conversation of two sailors passing by caught their ears. These two, male and female, were garbed in the dress of the Guild. “It was told to me by one of the Factor’s men themselves,” the male asserted. “Tunato has finally obtained a true artifact from the First Age.” “He’s been searching for years,” the female replied. “What is it? Where did he purchase it from?” “How should I know? I don’t meet with the Factor. It’s something called the Gentle Art of Persuasion, though – so I imagine that it’s not a daiklave.” The two continued on their way. But Zanka had a strange look on her face, as though far away. “What troubles you, Sister?” Kaliel asked. “That artifact they spoke of…” “Yes, the ‘Gentle Art of Persuasion’. What of it?” “I think… that it was once mine.” Soon the four Solars had gathered together, and Zanka relayed the overheard conversation. “The name of this artifact strikes a chord in my soul,” she explained. “A long-forgotten memory. This artifact was once mine, in the First Age.” “Then we should get it back,” Ghost said, from his perch atop a wooden crate. Ayama walked slowly around the group. “This Guild factor will likely contest her claim to ownership.” “Let him contest all he wishes,” Ghost said. “It will avail him not.” “And why would this Factor be so free with the knowledge of his acquisition?” Ayama persisted. “Would that not attract others wishing to take it from him?” “Ah,” Ghost said, descending from his high perch with a flip, “he does not fear burglary. For Factor Tunato has never been successfully robbed.” “How do you know this?” Kaliel asked. “Because Factor Tunato is stationed in the town of Lynnisbrook, in the kingdom of Lagan to the north,” Ghost explained. “And it is a place I have been recently on other business.” [center]۞[/center] The river transport pulled into the port at Lynnisbrook, and the four travelers took in the lay of the land. The city rose upon a hillside rising from the river bank, with the palatial estates of the wealthy looming down over the hovels below. At the top sat the palace of the ruler of Lagan, Lady Rinalta, who not long ago had been visited by Ayama and Resplendent Ghost of Midnight. Ghost pointed to another large manor, on a slight rise all its own. “That is the estate of Tunato.” “I do not see why we cannot simply bargain with this Factor to purchase the artifact,” Kaliel said. “Because he will likely not part with it for any price,” Ayama explained. “Such things are symbols of status and prestige.” “And you have heard the rumors yourself, repeated on the journey here,” Ghost added. “This man has never been robbed. Fate demands I act.” “If that is the case,” Kaliel said, “then approaching this man socially will afford you the chance to scout your target before you strike.” “You are as wise as you are large, my Northern friend,” Ghost said. “Perhaps there is a viewing we can get ourselves invited to.” “That should prove easy enough,” Zanka said. “Just make sure you have proper attire.” She turned to Kaliel. “You may play the role of faithful bodyguard.” He only nodded in reply. “I would know more of these tales of the Factor never being robbed,” Ghost said. “I will go and speak to those who would know of such things.” “I will walk the markets,” Ayama said. “And learn the ways of the city. I suggest we meet here again at sunset.” With that, the four went their separate ways. Zanka and Kaliel eventually found themselves at the Silvercap Tea House, where Zanka used her considerable skills to steer the local conversation to her whim. Posing as a scholar from the Blessed Isle who was researching First Age weapons, she and her ‘bodyguard’ eventually found themselves at the table of a Guild merchant named Jenko Saan. Though it was clear from the man’s lustful glances that his interest was in a discourse of a different kind, he hinted at having knowledge of Tunato’s recent acquisition. Through a perfectly balanced combination of medicinally enhanced teas and subtle innuendo, Zanka was at last able to get the merchant to reveal his secrets. “I was one of the few the Factor invited to see them,” Saan said. “A private showing, shortly after he acquired them.” “Could you arrange another viewing for a guest?” Zanka asked. But Saan shook his head. “He keeps his treasures to himself, I fear – I understand that no one has been allowed to see them since. He is also not in the habit of entertaining at his home. But you said you were interested in weapons.” “Many weapons of the First Age did not appear as such,” Zanka replied. “If Tunato’s artifact is a weapon, then it is a poor one,” the merchant said. “They are nothing but a pair of fans. But if the lady is interested, I have a collection of rather impressive artwork back at my own residence.” Zanka’s heart began to beat faster, as a flash of memory allowed her to picture the two fans, painted with some sort of dramatic scene. On the surface, of course, she remained perfectly poised, allowing only a slight flush to rise in her cheeks and bosom. [i]Let him interpret that as interest, or arousal, and keep his tongue wagging[/i]. “Could these fans not disguise a blade?” Zanka persisted. “That is a possibility,” Saan conceded, “though when I envision weapons of the First Age, I picture the warstriders and energy cannons of Lookshy’s Seventh Legion.” “Not all weapons are made for deployment against armies,” Kaliel commented. The comment drew a barely noticeable look of consternation from Zanka, a look that said [I]you are playing the role of loyal bodyguard. Loyal bodyguards do not interject their observations[/I]. To the merchant, however, Zanka only smiled. “I, too, often find myself snared in the path your mind has taken. One expects everything from the First Age to be grand and awe-inspiring – my escort here is good enough to remind me that this is not always the case.” “The only thing I saw about those fans that was unusual is that they were made of gold, but a very strange gold – brighter than I expected.” Saan smiled and placed his hand atop Zanka’s. “Much like the way you have brightened this room with your presence.” The Quill of Heaven smiled demurely. “It would be of great benefit to my work if I could at least speak with this Tunato. You say he does not entertain at his home. Does he attend the functions of others?” “Yes, of course. His position demands it, if nothing else.” “Is there such an event coming up? Perhaps you could escort me to one.” Saan’s face lit up, then fell. “In truth, my lady, I must depart tomorrow morning with the latest shipments of ore, and so have had to decline any social invitations. However, I believe there is a reception occurring tomorrow night at Lady Rinalta’s estate, which the Factor is sure to attend, and to which you could probably get invited easily, given who the guest of honor is. But that does leave both of us free this evening.” For a moment, Zanka considered inquiring further about the ‘guest of honor’, but the merchant’s tone implied that if she truly were a visiting scholar from the Realm, she would already know who it was, and so to question him now would invite suspicion. Besides, she had what she needed from him, and was growing tired of every curve of her body being scrutinized. “Alas, my heart breaks,” she said to him. “For I have already made an appointment this evening to consult with a local sage on another line of inquiry. The man is most difficult to reach, and I would be remiss in my duties to the Empire if I were distracted from my work.” She smiled. “As tempting as that distraction may be.” She rose, and extended a hand. “With the Dragon’s Blessing, perhaps we shall meet again.” [center]۞[/center] Meanwhile, far from the Silvercap Tea House, Ghost found himself in conversation with a man in a dark corner of a disreputable alehouse. As was customary, no names were exchanged, though Ghost knew the man he spoke with was of some prominence among those criminals not affiliated with the Guild. “So, what is the truth of these rumors surrounding the Factor?” Ghost asked. “Are you contemplating adding your name to the list of those who have tried and never returned?” the man asked, eyebrows arched. “It may be worth my time,” Ghost yawned. “If that is the case,” the man replied, “then perhaps I can be of assistance. We have sent ten of our own into that house, and none have returned. Of their fates, we know little. Of the house itself, we know more. Were you aware that he manor in which Tunato lives was built before the Shogunate?” Ghost’s eyes glittered. “Such a grand dwelling from that time might easily have its own defenses,” he observed. “Perhaps the reason for the lack of success until now.” “True, but it also means that records detailing the home’s interior are bountiful. I can provide you with a map of the home as a favor, including places that it is likely the Factor has placed valuables. If you are successful where my own have failed, bring me the spoils and I will considered the favor repaid.” “I will bring you all that you wish, save one item,” Ghost stated. “The artifact, I presume? Very well – I would have difficulty finding a buyer for that item in any case. But you seem confident in your ability to deliver. Do you have a reputation to match this bravado?” “I am Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.” A breach of protocol, to be sure, but circumstances demanded it – until his fame was such that he was recognized on sight, at least. The man nodded in approval. “I have heard of you,” he said, “and not just from your aid to Lady Rinalta. For your reputation to have come this far north speaks of your skill.” He pulled a roll of parchment out from under his tunic. “Your map.” “What can you tell me of the manor?” Ghost asked. “The large room with the bay window on the first floor is likely his business offices,” the man said, “and probably where he keeps his most prized possessions. But I can tell you that the windows are unbreakable; one of our own apparently learned this when he tried to dive into one. There is a cistern on the roof, though I do not know the size of the pipes leading into the house.” The man looked evenly at Ghost. “I hope you can bring me something that is worth ten men.” [center]۞[/center] Ayama wandered the many stall of the market, eyes and ears open to the activity around her. She had quickly gained a sense of the local gossip, none of it terribly relevant to her at this time, but useful nonetheless. She was also able to identify some of Tunato’s household staff by their livery. She noted with some interest that these people strode about the market with an air of arrogance and superiority that was surprising for common servants. She followed a pair of servants for a little while, hoping to overhear something, but the pair spoke little to each other, and seemed disinclined to communicate with the others in the market beyond what their business required. As the servants strode brusquely away from a local baker’s stall, Ayama heard a woman tending an apple cart nearby mumble, “What a shame…” “A shame?” Ayama asked, picking up an apple and examining it. “My poor sister,” she said. “Was just released from that man’s service. Tunato’s, I mean.” “What was the reason?” “Spirits know why,” she replied. “He replaced his entire household staff two weeks ago. No warnings, no reasons. And those new people…” she shook her head. “Never seen them in the city before. And they… move strange.” Ayama glanced over to see if she could detect this oddity herself, but the pair of servants had vanished into the crowd. She could recall that they were paler than most in the city, but nothing unusual about their gait. “My sympathy for your sister.” She filled a small bag with apples and handed over a half-yen. “Tell me, where may I find the shrine to the city’s god?” “Far side of the market, take the main road up the hill, turn left at the moneylenders, and keep walking,” the merchant said. “But it’s not the right time of year for his observances, so you’ll find no one there.” “I am meeting a friend there,” she explained. Ayama found the shrine with little difficulty. The altar, as the merchant had said, was not attended by anyone, and a thick layer of dust and grime covered it. Ayama knelt and began cleaning the altar off. She heard a voice behind her a few minutes into her task. “Excuse me, what are you doing in here?” “It’s filthy in here,” Ayama replied without turning. “Filth spreads disease.” “I would call it dusty at best.” “I am eccentric in my beliefs on such things.” “I see.” The person behind her sat down. “So, what is your story?” “I came here with my companions, who seek information,” Ayama replied. “Unfortunately, I have no connections to persons who can provide this information, so I have spent my day exploring this city. I decided to come and pay my respects to the spirit of this city, and found his shrine in this state.” “I mean no offense,” the man said, “but your story is not very entertaining, especially with all of the details you are leaving out.” “Is it common for two people who have just met to exchange explicit details about their lives?” The Resplendent Sun wiped her hands on a cloth, and then rose and turned. “I am Ayama.” The man who was behind her also rose. He seemed not terribly remarkable, appearing much like any other native of the region, yet his presence seemed to grab one’s attention. He appeared middle-aged and well-groomed, with well-worn sandals suggesting frequent travel. “I am the Storyteller,” he said in greeting. He extended his arm, indicating they should both sit. “Storyteller. I begin to understand your interest in details.” “I hear many stories. I make my home in the marketplace, listening to the stories. Some stories I tell, and others I do not. Some stories I am paid to tell.” “I’m sure you make some good coin with your tales.” “My coin is interesting at times,” Storyteller said. “For example, I receive a most interesting payment to tell the tale of a Guild Factor who cannot be robbed.” Ayama’s brows rose. “It so happens that my companions were interested in hearing more of this tale, and the factor attached to it.” “You had the look of someone who had heard that story. Of course, most stories have a kernel of truth, but are not entirely accurate. I’m sure you understand such things.” “I am familiar with the concept,” Ayama replied. “If my companions were interested in hearing some of your tales, where could we find you?” “I am always around,” Storyteller replied. “But for some of the stories I have to tell, you and your companions may not be able to meet the price. The Factor pays me well, and in ways that few others can.” With that, the Storyteller rose and walked out of the shrine. She rose and returned to the harbor, where her three companions had already gathered. They found an alley away from the bustle of the docks, and regaled each other of tales of their exploits, and the information they had gathered. “I still do not understand why Tunato would replace his entire staff,” Kaliel said. “The expense would be staggering, not to mention having to train them all without the experience of more senior members of the household.” “Unless he was not given a choice in the matter,” Ghost observed. “Ayama tells us that the factor’s staff is seen as odd by the locals, and that they behave with arrogance unusual for common servants. Perhaps these are foreigners that have been imposed upon the Factor by an outside agent – to keep an eye on him, perhaps. Possibly part of the payment rendered for the Gentle Art of Persuasion; it could be that our factor has two masters now. I do know that he acquired the fans sometime within the last six weeks, though he has apparently been reluctant to reveal the exact date.” “Because doing so could connect him with some other event which might identify where the artifact came from,” Ayama surmised. “Perhaps…” But the attention of the others had been drawn by a ship now puling in to port. This sleek vessel was no ore barge, but a military galley flying the colors of the Scarlet Empire. Ghost peered at a smaller banner flying under the Imperial flag. “House Cathak,” he said. “Odd. Most of the Imperial Navy is commanded by Peleps.” “But what is a vessel from any Great House, let alone a military vessel, doing here?” Zanka asked, not bothering to hide her contempt. They watched as a party disembarked from the ship. A scale of Realm soldiers fell into formation, escorting a woman in red jade armor. The daiklave at her side was peace-bonded. The procession began its march up the hill toward the palace. A significant crowd had gathered, but from what they could gather from whispered conversations nearby, it was not an entirely unexpected event. “That would be the Cathak, I presume,” Ayama said. “They’re here for negotiations,” Ghost said. “Indeed,” Zanka agreed. “Enough military strength to show they take this seriously, but not to be too threatening.” “I thought you told us that Lady Rinalta is an ally of the Confederation,” Kaliel said. “She is,” Ghost said, “but she is also Queen here, and thus at times must not appear to take sides, or may even be forced into unpleasant arrangements. She is also not the only source of power in this land.” The Nightbringer paused. “It occurs to me that servants who had been born on the Blessed Isle and then brought here would not only appear foreign in their mannerisms, but might tend toward a certain elitist attitude toward the ‘barbaric locals’.” “You think that Tunato has allied with the Realm?” Zanka asked. “It would be a plausible explanation.” A few discreet inquiries in the crowd told them more of the arrival of the Realm. The reaction to the Imperial presence was mixed, those in favor observed that with events in the southern reaches of the Confederation drawing Lookshy’s attention, it left this part of the world poorly defended. With the Bull of the North campaigning against the Linowan, who were not so terribly far from Lagan, some felt that there was need for a stronger military presence, no matter whose banners they flew. Silver, after all, spends the same no matter who holds it. Ayama regarded her allies. “We should speak with Storyteller on these matters.” “An excellent suggestion,” Storyteller said, as he walked around the corner. “You have been listening to many stories this evening. Come; let us go somewhere where we may talk.” He glanced at Kaliel, whose hand was still on the haft of his axe. The Lightbringer slowly released his grip. Storyteller turned, and led the others to an out of the way but respectable tavern with a sign depicting two crossed picks. They found a table already prepared for them, with a pitcher of fine ale in the center. “Kaliel I know by reputation,” Storyteller said. “Both before and after, if you are curious. The same goes for Resplendent Ghost of Midnight, and Ayama I have met.” He looked purposefully at Zanka. “Storyteller, this is Zanka Odokari, Beguiling Flower of Dancing Lights,” Ayama said. Storyteller bowed and kissed her hand. “Mistress,” he greeted her. “Only if you are very fortunate,” Zanka replied pleasantly. “Zanka will suffice.” “Do not feel badly,” Ghost interjected. “She turned me down as well.” “So,” Storyteller asked, settling back with his ale. “What would you have of me?” “First, I would know – are you the god of this city?” Kaliel asked. “Oh, no, I am not him,” Storyteller replied. “He never leaves Yu-Shan except for the day of his observances. I am a teller of stories.” “I understand there is a particular story which you are well compensated to spread,” Ghost said. “We would be interested in hearing the details behind that tale.” “The core of the tale is true,” Storyteller said. “Tunato has never been successfully robbed.” “And why is that?” “That tale will cost you the next round.” Storyteller said. “No one who has attempted to steal from Tunato’s estate has emerged from the house alive. I do not know all their fates, but within the past month two have tried, and both were stopped by the guards. However, they were subdued, not killed – what happened to them after that, I cannot say.” “Cannot say because you do not know, or because you are forbidden by your compact with Tunato?” Ghost inquired. “Because I do not know. It is not a story that is told.” “If we are speaking only of stories that are being told,” Ayama said, “I expect there are many about Tunato’s recent change of staff.” “There are many stories about his staff,” Storyteller replied. “Both his literal staff, and the more vulgar euphemism, I’m afraid.” “Does Tunato pay you to spread those stories as well?” Zanka asked, amused. “No, he does well enough on his own. As to his servants, there are tales that they are all foreigners, or demons. Of course, many in Creation will equate the one with the other.” Storyteller paused. “Some of the quieter tales say that Tunato had his new staff prepared before he dismissed his old staff.” “Suggesting he had this planned for some time,” Kaliel concluded. “There is more. It is said that some of the old staff were not dismissed. Truly, some were never seen again by their families.” Ghost frowned. “There is one thing I do not understand. Tunato has paid you well to spread his tales. Yet you have been quite forthcoming with us. What exactly is he paying you, and what payment do you expect from us?” The entity called Storyteller smiled. “Tunato has compensated me with a rare coin indeed. What he believes to be merely a First Age manor is in fact a manse. His bargain with me allows me access to a portion of the Essence flow harnessed by this manse; the rest goes to him, though he is not aware of it. The geomancy of the manse was constructed in such a way to augment the mercantile efforts of the owner; though Tunato is not attuned to the manse, it does recognize him as the owner, thus some Essence naturally flows to him. Now, I am somewhat aware of why you have come here, and I believe that you are capable of making me a better offer.” “How could one live in such a place and be unaware of it?” Zanka asked, incredulous. “Geomancy is a lost art,” said Storyteller sadly. “And mortals are not sensitive to the flows of Essence. Before Tunato sought me out, I was subsisting on tiny scraps of worship from the marketplace. I do not even receive the annual observances any more. Once I realized the treasure he unknowingly sat upon, well, the temptation proved too much. I’m sure he felt he was getting the better part of the bargain.” “So,” Ghost said, grinning, “if the people of this city were to suddenly experience something of a spiritual revival in regard to you, I assume that this would exceed the payment you receive from Tunato’s manse?” “For example,” Ayama said, “If someone were to compose a work regaling the people about the City of Many Stories, and encouraging travelers far and wide to seek this city out.” “I believe that would do nicely,” Storyteller said. “Easily done,” Zanka said with an easy wave. “Forgive my ignorance of such matters,” Ghost said to Storyteller, “but does your access to the manse’s Essence give you control over its defenses?” “The manse has no defenses other than the guards Tunato has hired. Of course, the materials of the building itself are far more durable than normal, and the windows, as I believe you have heard already, are composed of adamant.” “With the envoys of the Scarlet Empress here in Lynnisbrook,” Ayama asked, “is it possible that Tunato will be entertaining soon?” “Tunato himself has not entertained nearly as much as he used to in the past three months, not that he was well-known for doing more than what was required of his position before that.” “Is it likely that he will be invited to some sort of function at Lady Rinalta’s palace?” Zanka inquired. “Almost a certainty. In fact, he is attending such a function tonight.” “And do the guards become less vigilant when their master is away?” Storyteller shook his head. “The opposite, in fact. Tunato typically takes one of his house guards with him to functions to act as a bodyguard; the remainder compensate for the loss of manpower by increasing their watchfulness.” “How many guards are there?” Kaliel asked. “I am not certain. I would guess between four and ten for a house that size.” “More than enough to handle any normal burglar,” Ghost commented. “But not nearly enough to oppose the Auric Lion,” Zanka said with a satisfied smile. But Kaliel and Ayama frowned at this. “It is likely that there is at least one Immaculate monk on board the Imperial galley,” Ayama said, “if not in the Cathak’s escort. Drawing attention to the fact that there are Solars in the city is certain to draw their ire, and prompt them to send several more monks to this city, possibly even a Wyld Hunt. They tend to obliterate any who have associated with the Anathema.” “And I am not well versed in being subtle in such matters,” Kaliel admitted. “And even without the Immaculates, there is the Cathak. She would not have been gifted that daiklave and that red jade armor if she did not know how to use them. And there is no way to know what weaponry they have available to them on that galley.” “Thus it is in our interest, and the interest of Lagan, that we do not allow Tunato or his men to suspect our nature,” Ghost finished. “It would appear this is my calling. Which, of course, is what I wanted in the first place.” “I have one final question for you, Storyteller,” Zanka said. “How do we know that the story of our conversation will not be spread, as you have spread Tunato’s tale?” “Because there is no value in telling the story until it is concluded,” he replied. [/QUOTE]
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