tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52000857741688164242024-02-21T15:43:29.801+00:00The Trials and Tribulations of Dame Arcadia JustinianBeing a log and record of our Fading Suns roleplaying game campaign concerning the personage of the Dame Arcadia Justinian and more importantly the exploits of her entourage and companions.
(for more on Fading Suns visit https://www.ulisses-us.com/games/fading-suns/ ) Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-67604357658501843822020-09-07T09:06:00.004+01:002020-09-11T11:50:21.923+01:00Interlude - Keats epilogue<p style="text-align: justify;"> Last night was bad. Chastity’s wife woke her with urgent hisses in a language that Chastity didn’t understand but is beginning to recognise as Antiochian. Chastity let herself be led out through the house, hand clasped tight, slipping silent as her wife who carried a sword in her free hand and watched every dark corner and alcove. Chastity ensured the guards stayed clear. Then they came out under the trees, and the smell of night-orchids and damp earth, and Chastity’s wife looked around confused, then embarrassed, and let Chastity led her back to bed.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Chastity wipes condensation from the tall bathroom mirror. It takes a while. Then she stands back beside her wife and points at her wife’s reflection.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“This is you.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Chastity’s wife stares at herself, like studying a map of a strange land. The scars aren’t confined to her face. Nor are the tattoos anymore: one in Urthish script coiling down her side from shoulder to knee. Her name, in mirror-writing so that it reads clearly on her reflection. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">She points to one scar on her stomach, frowns, “That was Yannis Three-Fingers. He gained his freedom too – we got drunk together once – but he didn’t know what to do outside the arena. He was hung, I think.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">A memory, new to Chastity and lucid. Chastity rests an arm around her wife’s shoulders.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Her wife stares at herself in the mirror, “This is me.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">*****</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Will I ever have my first mate back?” Cortez walks through the garden beside Chastity.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“She is broken. She has been broken several times before, and pieced some semblance of herself back together out of necessity, but fragile. Now, we will help her to do it properly. It will take time.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“And she is married to you. Whenever Keats was noticed by the ladies, he – she – always evaded their attention. Does she… like ladies?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“I don’t think she knows herself. But marriage and sex are not the same thing. We may take lovers,” Chastity’s smile suggests it might not be that simple, though it could as easily be to tease him.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Are there subjects I should avoid?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“No. Just be patient with her,” Chastity glances up.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Then someone is beside them. They’d dropped from the tree, but so suddenly and quietly that they seem instead to rise out of the grass. Unadorned blue cloak that, in crouching, had fanned out and now pulls in; black hair; katana held by its sheath in one hand.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Mal?!?” but it isn’t. The hair is dyed, the face scarred and tattooed. Even the eyes are wrong: now amber. “Keats!”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Chastity addresses her wife calmly, “Who are you today?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Lady Patience Keats Decados.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Good. Then shall I look after that?” Chastity holds out her hand, and Patience passes her the katana: it’s Mal’s. To Cortez, “I’ll leave her in your care.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Do you have news?” Patience demands as soon as Chastity turns away.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“What about?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Mal!”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“No. I am sorry.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Patience stares at Cortez. She’d never seen him among trees before, always in ships or spaceports or cities. He is out of context. She’s still for a moment, tense, processing the transposition. Then she grins, hugs him, picks him up and spins. That’s new.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Patience Decados?” when he is set down.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“All the other names were tangled.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Decados?!?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“There is nothing left for me in the Justinians. Only bitterness. Hemlock,” she says the name as if testing it out, “joined the Decados on his marriage and renounced his Justinian claim. Though sooner or later someone will notice that the marriage documents all say Tigerlily. And it simplified my illegitimate inheritance. I’m sure cousin Suki will do a better job than my father when he dies.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“And your eyes –” Cortez touches her cheek.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“I can see colour again!” Patience beams, “Though that waistcoat looked better in monochrome.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“I always liked the blue,” wistful, “I thought they were beautiful.”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Dead men’s eyes,” Patience frowns, “I considered green, but no-one else had amber eyes. When I look in the mirror, I see myself,” all stated plainly, undisturbed, as if normal people had trouble with their own reflection.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“What has become of Keats?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Hemlock,” she pauses, struggles, “was a lie. Tigerlily-on-Antioch was a delusion, sort-of, though she’s still part of me. Keats is part of me too, maybe the biggest part. You can call me that if you want: it won’t trigger a seizure,” a slight smile. She’s teasing him, which seems a good sign, or perhaps a fleeting moment of lucidity. Remembering something, she pulls a ring from her pocket: the nose-ring she’d worn since Antioch, “Can you look after this for me please?”</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Of course,” he pockets it.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">They walk under the trees, old friends chatting. She slips her hand in his. It’s warm and callused. While it surprises him, it seems to please her to have that contact. It’s a while before he realises that it’s her left hand so her right is free to draw – she wears Keats’ knives – and she knows where he is without looking.</p>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-686793624497499662020-08-28T10:15:00.001+01:002020-08-30T21:06:02.890+01:00Session fifty - The Finale<p>Mal and Ylanath are confronted by the inquisitor, Father Torquemada. Mal attempts to direct the blame at Sir Ali and accuses him of psychic powers and antimony but the priest seems to be having none of it. Mal is a known recidivist and has been excommunicated by the church, he appears to be the guilty party here. Threatened with the priest's flame gun Mal lays his swords on the table.<br><br>Ylanath and Mal are not alone though; Pandemonium Max has been sat across the room and come over to the table. He tries to calm the situation with intimidation but Torquemada is not an easy man to sway from his path and things look set to turn violent.... </p><p>Meanwhile in Sir Ali's apartment Hemlock's mother, the Baroness Esmeraldas welcomes her son and begs him to stop all this foolishness and sit alongside her. Hemlock coldly refuses, demands that she call off the inquisition and when she refuses, strikes her with his frap stick, penetrating the shield she wears.</p><p>In the cafe, while Mal laid his swords aside, he still has a knife and he strikes at Torquemada, pinning his hand to the table. Max then headbutts the priest and they subdue Sir Ali, her promises to sign a full confession and provide them with the evidence they need if they end his life quickly rather than handing him to the church for punishment. They agree (although they fully intend to hand him to the "mercies" of the church) and then hastily take him and Torquemada out of the shop.</p><p>The apartment is in uproar, Anton and Chastity make short work of the Baroness' guards while Hemlock tries to reason with his mother. She admits that the attack on his uncle's estate when Hemlock and Tiger-Lily were children was punishment on her husband and his brother after they tried to take too much of a cut and cheat the Al Malik's over the illicit artefact smuggling. She fully condoned the attack as, in her mind Tochiro Justinian needed to know his place. It was unfortunate but necessary, but at least her son survived. Hemlock tries to tell her that her son did not in fact survive and that "he" is Tiger-lily and has been all along. She doesn't accept it initially but comes to see the truth. She is bitter and outraged and with venom on her lips Tiger-Lily stikes her again, mortally wounding her. As Anton clears up the guards, Mal, Max and Ylanath arrive while Chastity comforts Tiger-lily as she slowly suffocates her mother, ensuring that she is dead.<br><br>With the evidence they need to clear Chastity and Sir Mercucio and the revelation of Count Innocence's involvement meaning he can now invest directly in Corteaz' endeavours the cadre can rest, comfortable that their mission in complete. </p><p>Sir Ali's evidence also clears the charges of smuggling and the "Innocent Pursuit" is released to the Marquis de Havilland once more.<br><br>In a final coda Tiger-Lily asks Chastity where they stand now in respect of their engagement. Chastity says that she is her dearest friend and that has not changed. She comes from a noble House where people change physically all the time so she has come to look at the person for who they are, not what they present to the world. She has no closer friend, no one she trusts greater and cannot imagine anyone she would rather have as a partner than Tiger-Lily, or Keats. Keats agrees and thet board Chastity's ship, hand in hand. <br><br></p>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-46974288066940337132020-08-28T09:35:00.001+01:002020-08-28T09:35:03.356+01:00Session forty-nine<p>Having decided that their next step is to try to obtain evidence of Sir Ali Em Sabu Al Malik's involvement in the conspiracy to implicate Chasitity and Mercucio in antimony, the cadre set out for the city of Archeon. </p><p>They sneak out of Ost, late at night, hidden in the back of a wagon. They head out of the city and into the woods where Chastity's ship is hidden. Boarding the ship they take off and enter low orbit, avoiding Al Malik patrols and sensor sweeps and descending back down to the planet in the hills near Archeon.<br /><br />Come morning the cadre make their way into the city and locate the fief, and city block where Sir Ali abides. They decide to try to lure him out with a note pretending to come from Sir Hasimir and alluding to knowledge of the Ravenna covens. Mal and Ylanath will meet Ali in a nearby coffee shop while Anton, Hemlock and Chastity plan to gain access to his apartment and search for incriminating evidence.</p><p>The note appears to work and Ali heads to the coffee shop. Anton uses his status as a Phoenix Knight to get past the building concierge and they make their way up to Ali's apartment.</p><p>As Ali sits down it is obvious he knows who Mal is. He is also accompanied by a priest he introduces as Father Torquemada. Mal begins to realise that Ali's psychic gift of Omen has allowed him some sense of what they planned. He is prepared for them.</p><p>When Hemlock, Anton and Chastity enter the apartment they discover an occupant lounging on the couch; Hemlock's mother; the Baroness Esmeraldas Al Malik Justinian...</p>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-18973176413141324032020-08-28T09:16:00.005+01:002020-08-28T09:16:18.764+01:00Interlude - Chastity's warehouse cont.<p><b>Hemlock: </b>"Sir Ali seems our obvious first lead. Sir Mercucio tells us that Sir Ali has a place in the capital, Archeon, but he's known to visit family and his club on Ravenna, and often travels the Jumpweb to secure things for his collection.</p><p>"The obvious step is to investigate his home in Archeon, as we might find something of interest there. Other options are to contact or investigate the Ravenna coven, that is, if Mal can find a way to them. More complex still, we could present an interesting artefact and see who turns up to buy it.</p><p>"We also need to know more about who he is and who his family is. Where might that be discovered? Simply investigating his home might give us clues."</p><p><i>Hemlock pauses, changing topic.</i></p><p>"On the framing for antimony, since the perception of truth is more important than actual truth (which itself raises questions about anything and everything claimed as fact by our religion), we need a counter-narrative. Another perceived truth. Chastity, do you have copies of the doctored pictures? If we could edit them to remove the doctoring, and leave them and suggestions of doctoring at Sir Ali's place (or another patsy's) together with documents showing purchase of the planted items, that would give a narrative for a set-up."</p><p><b>Anton De Havilland: </b><i>De Havilland turns suddenly to look at Hemlock,</i> "Who are you and what have you done to Sir Hemlock? I haven't seen this scheming side to you before now. Perhaps our proximity to Al-Malik space has done something to awaken in you a little of your families pedigree and mannerisms... I certainly agree that our focus remains with Sir Ali. If we cannot find him in Archeon then we will need a covert way of escaping back to Ravenna as we are most of us wanted criminals. Even worse now that we have been sprung from incarceration in an attack. Archeon is a good choice, also likely to be abandoned. If this man is clever he will have his place watched knowing at some point that an enemy will seek him out there. A trap is very likely. We need to get there early enough to monitor the place beforehand."</p><p><b>Mal: </b>"The way I see it, we could try and use the fork to draw him out, advertise it as being owned by a known psychic and possible friend of Ali. In a way it is a "psychic artefact", we are just using a different definition of artefact. </p><p>And if we wanted to get into contact with the club on ravena, if it becomes known that I'm on ravena looking for the club I that might draw them out. Hasimir warned me they had their eyes on me before, so it might be fair to assume they would still want to keep a tab on me..."</p><p><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Do we know any faction who isnt monitoring you Mal, our journey here has sprung up a good number of your fan club?"</p><p><b>Mal:</b> "Yes actually, we do. Currently the Al'malik aren't monitoring me... as far as I know. I believe the decados aren't either"</p><p><i>He turns to look at Chastity.</i></p><p><b>GM - (Chastity): </b>"Who are you again?" <i>Chastity says with a sneer and a glint in her eye</i></p><p><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Surely Chastity you have heard of the Kitchen Fork Fiend of Ravenna, the Salacious Scourge of Silverware.?" <i>Responds De Havilland in a like minded mood</i></p><p><b>Mal</b>: <i>Mal glares at De Havilland</i></p><p>"That was one time. And anyway, if it wasn't for my magpie nature you wouldn't know what happened in Austrum"</p><p><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>"Yes, kleptomania seems to have an impact on destiny. Steal enough material and eventually one of it will be essential. But I jest of course, the message from Hassimir was clever and I am grateful of your revelation."</p><p><b>Hemlock: </b>"I think it also worth tying my fate and reputation to Chastity's. If the inquisition is my mother's doing, then she may have the means to stop it. We can give her a reason to do so, and even make it easy for her by implicating Sir Ali as a patsy. I was considering a letter along these lines to the Ravenna Town Crier."</p><p><i>Hemlock reads from a scrap of paper he'd written on:</i></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;">My return to the known works came with mixed feelings. I was overjoyed that a marriage had been arranged between myself and the Lady Chastity Decados. Despite the popular perception, Lady Chastity has proved an impeccable guest, excellent companion and stalwart ally. I was, however, distraught to discover the obviously falsified charges against her. It seems that some in the church, and society at large, have been taken in by doctored photos and planted "evidence". I hold out hope of finding a priest with sufficient perspicacity to perform the wedding ceremony. <br />Sir Hemlock Justinian.</span></p><p><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>"I admire the cunning here. My only thought is whether your mother is going to simply suggest that your marriage has been orchestrated through the use of nefarious means and that it should be null and void on that basis. "</p><p>"Suggesting that your mind were taken over by a known Antimonist "</p><p><b>Hemlock:</b> "From what I understand, marriage is quite hard to annul. That would cost some political capital. And the marriage had already been agreed and arranged by my family. Going through with it would hardly be surprise eloping.</p><p>"But, at this stage at least, I'm not getting married, but expressing the intent to marry. (Actually getting married would involve finding a willing priest, which could currently be very hazardous.)"</p><p>"Hopefully that's enough to worry my mother: she doesn't know where I am exactly, my state of mind, what I've done or whether I've gone through with it yet. It might have already happened by the time she sees the letter."</p><p><b>GM - </b><i>Chastity meets Hemlocks gaze. He cannot place the emotions he sees there, he was never that good with reading people, after all</i></p><p>"A priest is easy. I have one of those. The question is whether you want to really put the grashk cat amongst the urrocs and do this properly or just want to throw out a bunch of rumours and idle threats."</p><p><b>Hemlock:</b> "Yes!"</p><p><i>Hemlock gives a strange, cracked laugh.</i></p><p>"But... you should know, on Antioch I ..." a flicker of something disturbed, maybe panic, "I was not myself. I was under a comfortable delusion and forgot many things. And I was married.</p><p>"I have left that false life, and I think it far enough away not to trouble us. And the priest need not know. But you should."</p><p><b>Mal: </b>"Did I set a trend? Do the church like any of us at this point?"</p><p><b>GM - </b><i>Chastity chuckles and stares off into the middle distance, for a moment she seems almost wistful</i></p><p>"Some of the priesthood adore me... But the Church as a whole is not so keen..."</p><p><b>Hemlock:</b> "Who are the priests that adore you?"</p><p><b>GM - (Chastity): </b>"Heh. At many of my soirées the names given by the guests are very rarely true... If I had ample time and resources I could identify who they truly were... But I can certainly trust my old confessor. He's not of the Urth Orthodox but he is a priest of rank and good standing."</p><p><b>Hemlock: </b>"Then as soon as we have conducted our business here, if it pleases my lady we should go to him and be wed."</p><p><b>Pandemonium Max:</b> <i>Max bursts into the room from wherever he had been lurking. There is the smell of burning about him, and his hands are thick with some sort of black chemical. In his arms he cradles a large transit box bearing the words Intergalactic Cutlery Delivery, 1500 forks (misc assrt.).</i></p><p>"Guys! Guys!"<i> He says breahlessly. </i>"Guess what's arrived? Only the fo..." <i>He stops talking as he finally glances around the room and notices the severe looks directed at him.</i></p><p><i>He fumbles the transit box behind him trying to keep it out of sight now. </i>"Oh, er... Don't worry. I've, er... Have you seen my '101 Things You Never Knew About How To Hack Jump Gate Keys' book?" <i>He smiles, awkwardly. </i>"No? Er, never mind."</p><p>"I'll be in my... er..."</p><p><i>And with that Pandemonium Max sharply turns and leaves, almost fumbling his hidden box, the door closing behind him. Suddenly, the sound of many pieces of cutlery falling to the floor is heard a little way down the corridor. </i></p><p>"Damn cheap bloody boxes. Oh goddamn."</p><p><b>GM -</b> <i>Chastity stares after Max, somewhat dumbfounded and then suddenly, with a deep inhalation, her composure returns.</i></p><p><i>She takes a step towards Hemlock and extends her hands to gently take his.</i></p><p>"At present, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be your wife, and I can think of no other that I would trust to be my husband."</p><p><b>Hemlock:</b> <i>Hemlock seems nervous but happy; resolved.</i></p><p>"Then I am blessed."</p><p><b>Mal:</b> "I love weddings, drinks all around!"</p><p><b>GM -</b> <i>Mercucio pipes up</i> "Well isn't this adorable! You will need to let me know the date in plenty of time as I'll have to speak to my tailor about a new suit."</p><p><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>"Well unless we want to invite the Inquisition to the service I guess we need to figure out how we get them to start looking for Sir Ali instead, and we also need a way off the planet because at the moment our only way off is impounded and likely now to be under increased security."</p><p>"Implicating him seems interesting. "</p><p><b>Hemlock: </b>"Chastity, do you have a copy of any of the doctored images of you?</p><p>"Is anyone skilled in forgery? I hesitate to cast such aspersions, but is it within your capabilities Mal?"</p><p><b>GM - (Chastity):</b> "I don't have any of the images with me, I am loathe to travel with potentially incriminating evidence when attempting to avoid possibly fatal indictment by the authorities.. But as I mentioned before, I do have a ship, with a loyal crew, currently hidden in the woods to the west of the city."</p><p><b>Mal: </b>"I'm afraid forgery is not something I've ever attempted"</p><p><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Not sure which is the shorter list we should keep a record of; things tou have or things you haven't tried yet"</p>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-29725031996454908122020-08-24T12:04:00.002+01:002020-08-24T12:04:39.140+01:00Interlude - Confessions of a Known Psychic<p>Whilst on the Innocent Pursuit, after meeting Lady Guinevere, Mal wrote the following letter which he now carries on his person.</p><p>The letter is addressed: <i>To the child of Sir Malcolm Hawkwood, to be sent to Lady Guinevere Hawkwood on Leminkainen death of Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.</i></p><p><i>To my young child,</i></p><p><i>May this letter find you well. I hope to soon be meeting you. Your mother has most likely told you I have my demons. I have more than that. I have many enemies and a reputation to clear before I can meet you.</i></p><p><i>I aim to resolve the issues brought about by my previous activity before such time as my return to </i><i>Leminkainen</i><i>, but the path I am about to walk will bring me close to my enemies. Not only that, but both the church and these enemies may want me dead before I get the chance to confess my sins. That is why I’ve written this letter. Upon my death, provided it can be found and retrieved, this letter should have been sent to you, and with it it’s contents. I trust that my allies will be able to do this small favour for me, as I wouldn’t trust this task to anyone else. If you are ever to meet Marquis Anton De Havilland or Sir Hemlock Justian, or the Charioteer Guildsman known as Keats, know that they will be a trusted ally and friend to you in my absence.</i></p><p><i>Inclosed is a small sum of firebirds. It isn’t much, but my life has not been one of frivolity and wealth. Within this letter is also my full account and confession. I hope that this will help in some way clear your own reputation and that of your mothers such that the sullied reputation of our family ends with me. This confession is not a legal document. Acquiring such would be hard for me, but I know the church does not always need Reeves to legalise their proceedings anyway. I would hope that this helps alleviate that which I’ve left behind.</i></p><p><i>Sincerely, your absent father, Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.</i></p><p>Within the envelope is a secondary envelope, labeled: <i>The full account and confession of Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.</i></p><p><i>To whomever reads this document,</i></p><p><i>I openly acknowledge having had no legal council before writing this. I do not see any point in doing so. The church has no reason to suspect me to lie if I’m confessing anyway. After all, if you are reading this I fear I may be either dead or shortly will be if not for this information becoming public knowledge.</i></p><p><i>Until a few years ago, what I had done felt right. I may have disagreed with how it was done, but I still believed the church was wrong and that the Psychics among us were superior. That belief has since died.</i></p><p><i>The church is aware that I was a member of the Invisible path. Someone exposed the cell I was a part of and I was apprehended along with many of my fellow members. At the time I had been planning to expose them myself, but didn’t get the chance. </i></p><p><i>I then broke out of prison and attempted to track down my fellow members. I do not honestly know what side I was on when I did this. I openly confess at this time to several crimes, including murder, which I committed prior to my apprehension. </i></p><p><i>I had intended to reunite with members of the cell, using the company of my cousin, the Marquis De Havilland, for protection. However, in the year after my escape, I was the guest of a Justinian knight, who had another guest </i><i>at the same time</i><i> in the form of a Decados Lady. The three of us became good friends, despite our apparent differences, and that turned me towards the path that has led me to remembering who I was and who I wanted to be. Whilst I should have handed myself over to the church there and then I found a pair of members of my old cell who had become acquainted with one Hasimir Torenson, from whom I learnt of a secret coven on Ravenna. This coven was aware of my presence in the local area and had been keeping tabs on me. If I went to the church I might have lost my lead on them, so I stuck to the shadows. I then fell into some trouble with these two individuals, having to then flee to space.</i></p><p><i>Now several years down the line, the Invisible Path of Ravenna has been resurrected by this club, most notably Victor and Hugo Hawkwood, who are both members of the club and members of the Invisible Path prior to it’s exposure. </i></p><p><i>As of the time of writing this confession I am fully intending to see this through to the end. Sir Hasimir has provided information on the fact that the weapons of mass destruction released on the Austrum Isles on Ravenna, were the fault of these two and their wider network. They not only provided these weapons, but he believes they engineered events to launch them. I believe they did this as a part of some, as yet unknown, larger plan that other members of this club may know about. </i></p><p><i>I intended on hunting down as much information as I could before confessing my sins, in the hopes of becoming penitent, using my skills to draw out other psychics such as myself.</i></p><p><i>Signed, Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.</i></p>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-62876349740798172412020-08-14T10:56:00.001+01:002020-08-14T10:56:22.707+01:00Interlude - In Chastity's warehouse<p><b> Mal:</b> "I think our first step here is simple"</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Talking to the whole room,</i> "what do we have on
our side at the minute? What pieces other than the 6 of us do we have in play
and who are our suspected enemies out there?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM:</b><b> </b> <i>Chastity
speaks up</i> "I have the whiny bitch of a Van Gelder, he might still be
of use. I have access to agents in Ost but, as I am actively sought by the
Inquisition there is a limit to what they can do for me and how long I will be
able to operate here before I will need to move on.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I also have a ship. Its hidden in a clearing in the woods to
the west of the city, about a day's walk from here."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"We
have a gate key, should we need it, and if Chastity's agents can recover things
from the ship, a blur suit."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"We have the probability that my mother wants to
control rather than kill me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can
imagine ways to use that."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"In terms of objectives, overturning these ridiculous
allegations of antimony solves most of our problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've seen that reason rarely enters into a
courtroom, much less a church one, but we might yet have some chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chastity, is it all purely based on the Van
Gelder's psychic associations?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or have
they manufactured 'evidence'?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Chastity):</b> "There is evidence, planted in our
belongings and I believe the source is the Al Malik associate of Sir
Mercucio's."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "What sort of evidence does one plant to
implicate someone in antimony?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b><b> </b> Once
we have an answer above, "I am keen to understand more about the risks and
threat of Emereldas Justinian here. I am
willing to accept that a woman of power might choose a husband from a minor
noble house if she has reasons to do so but I would like to see what reasons
those were. I don’t yet see what her
motivations are. I would like to
understand that more, so it is clearer to me what her aims are concerning
Hemlock and you and your father."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I also need to understand what information we have
about the groups or individuals working against you at the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do we know about them and where they are
looking for you at this moment in time?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Church is rumoured to have a number of groups who are
interested in Antimony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we know which
group we are facing that might give us more of an idea as to what we might
expect to encounter, if they have already identified you are on
Criticorum"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"In terms of equipment, then yes, it would be good to
have some of our equipment back but I think we can ONLY do that if we are
certain the ship is not being watched; and that depends on how quickly the
authorities find out we are missing"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"If there is any risk then we must be willing to
abandon them for now, in the hope that we may regain them at some point."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I know little about this country and its
authorities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would be good to
understand how long we can use this place as an escape before we have to find a
replacement"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"The way I see it at the moment, there is a shared aim
here to clear our names; which from what I hear leads us to the same lady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We should be under no misapprehensions here,
by supporting Lady Chastity we run the risk that we associate ourselves with
the same allegations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hemlock is clear
that he is willing to help."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Each of us must be willing to make the same commitment
if we are stay together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If anyone is
not then they should make it clear now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I , for one, will support this move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I also do not believe these allegations."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal</b>: "well, we have one advantage in this; my identity
and involvement would appear to still be unknown so the authorities shouldn't
be looking for me for any new crimes. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I'm not sure how this might help us though..."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Maybe not the authorities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I expect The Emerald Lady and her people
knows you left Ravenna with us"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"It's possible to get records from planets on who and
when we even left Byzantium"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But the authorities don’t have a record of you until they
are told to look for you<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"It's hard to have a sense of the reach of this
individual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if Chastity and The
Count are impacted then I expect it is more than I expected."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Chastity):</b> <i>Chastity replies to Hemlock’s question
about evidence</i> "It would appear that Mercucio's Al Malik associate has
a personal collection of certain occult "esoterica", some of which
was planted and ascribed to our ownership. Along with fabricated evidence
implicating our involvement in various debased ritual practices. Unfortunately,
in my own case, the modification of the pict-images wasn't difficult..."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"In terms of equipment, then yes, it would be good to
have some of our equipment back but I think we can ONLY do that if we are
certain the ship is not being watched; and that depends on how quickly the
authorities find out we are missing"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Anton, I have paid informants and agents amongst the
guilders and Freemen at the port. They could have amble reason to get aboard
your ship and remove things, but I dare only use them once in such a way. To do
more so would be to invite discovery."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "Someone sufficiently technically skilled
might be able to recognize that the pict image was edited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(And if pict images can be edited without
trace, then they're wholly worthless as evidence.) Is Mercucio's associate also
being hunted?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we have any means to
persuade him to admit that the esoterica were his?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I wonder if I'm coming at this too logically, that
truth and reason have no place in a trial, and the best we can do is bring our
own influence to bear in whatever means we can to alter its course?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(Hemlock's past experience might've made him a bit bitter
about such things...)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Chastity):</b> "Dear Hemlock, this would be at best a
Courtly trial but most likely a church one - in such "truth" is
determined my what can be seen not reasoned. If a thing looks like a thing it
is a thing... And they will have much personal testimony to confirm my sinful
ways. They will seek to prove that I have a tarnished soul mirror and am beyond
their salvation. Appearing before such a court will be a death sentence, the
only variable will be the form and speed of the execution."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "Agreed. Truth and Reason do have a
place but there needs to be a will to listen to them. This is also the
principle challenge we have. Even if we can find evidence to save ourselves, we
will need to find an audience willing to listen to and support it. Without
that, all our efforts will be for nothing"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"If Hemlock's mother has that much influence on Criticorum,
how do we find someone willing to listen to us, to want to oppose her."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I think the answer could rest with Hemlock."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM:</b> <i>Chastity looks at Anton with curiosity</i> "What
are you saying De Havilland? Are you intending to throw Hemlock to the wolves
in some way? Typical behaviour from a Lion, exploit the trust of your
"friends". He is only from a minor house after all... At least people
expect deceit and betrayal from my House.. You Lions love to appear to be
honourable and then you suggest something like this!"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "I trust Anton: he recovered me when I was
lost, and we have travelled through dark places together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he has a point: all of my mother's recent
schemes seem to be about me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether she
cares about me, or simply wishes her heir installed when my father dies, she
seems to want to control rather than kill me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Confronting her is a valid move, but I would want to understand more
before any such decision."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal: </b>"Also, excuse you lady chastity, appearing to be
honourable and then being deceitful is the best part of being a lion.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At least for me it is... "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Throwing Hemlock to the Wolves is
not going to achieve anything,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so no,
that is not my suggestion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, I
don't have the expertise in this sort of work. I don’t have the spy network,
paid informants, authorities in my pocket. We should be asking our expert on
what we should be doing here."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I have a few ideas, nothing concrete yet. Certainly,
my first thought is to meet with the man you identified as setting you up
Chastity. I would like some certainly about Emereldas culpability here since we
actually don’t have any evidence of that yet."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Chastity):</b> "You want to meet with Mercucio or his
Al Malik friend, or both?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>“Well logically if we wanted information
then hitting Mercucio would be the best option as he isn’t necessary expecting
it at the moment. If we meet the Al-Malik contact then we might be tipping off
Mercucio or it might be better for us if we can get access to information that
means getting to Mercucio easier. What does everyone think here, we all have a
valid opinion "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "I think I would like to meet this Mercucio.
We need information, and he might have some insight."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>"He seems to be the person in the
know, for sure and more likely to have an understanding of the wider aim"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I still would like to understand more about your
mother and what her aims actually are. Mercucio might know that."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM:</b> <i>Chastity glides across the warehouse floor with the
grace and poise of a predatory serpent. She reaches a bank of steel lockers,
takes out a key and undoes the padlock that secures it. The door opens with a
screech that reverberates around the mostly empty warehouse space.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Come out you piece of Vorox shit, these nice people
want to speak to you."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A dishevelled and nervous looking man with greasy hair, a
pencil thin moustache and the chin stubble of a few days growth, stumbles
cautiously out of the cupboard.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> De Havilland pulls up 2 chairs and
beckons Mercucio to sit at one. He straightened out his jacket and trousers and
sits himself upright at the other....<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I'm going to be honest with you Mr.Mercucio, I don’t
have much experience extracting information from people. Back in the service we
had people who specialise at this kind of work. I happen to think my own
methods are rather clumsy and brutal by Decados standards and I understand that
some may see a lack of skill and interpret that as outright cruelty. Now I want
to assure you, that even though I may lack the clinical precision of a Decados
torturers I more than make up for it in zeal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mr Max here is from the Muster guild. He is an expert in keeping patients
alive.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It's his responsibility to make sure that any mistakes I
make are patched up enough to keep you conscious.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Which is what we all want at the end if the day.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We are all friends here”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Now let me tell you what is going
to happen here and why. Now the why is simple. A few years ago I had a friend
who was picked up by this Ladies father. Now this friend had in his eyes,
caused harm to someone he cared about. So they wanted some intel from this
friend of mine and they went to work in him. He was a tough son of a gun from
what I read of the notes. Took them a few days to crack him but he died
possibly earlier than they anticipated. They overcooked things you might say<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">However, I think they got most of what they wanted from him
before his heart gave out or despair took him.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whichever went first.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think they were experts. I have already apologised that I
am not an expert. I lack the training if I am honest. What I did learn though
is not to ask any questions for the first few days of ordeal<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Let the victim just endure and despair at the fact that it isn’t
ending. This makes it more likely that when you do want to ask them something
later you get to that part cleaner<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now if you wanted to talk to us now well I can talk to these
people and ask them what we do. After all Mr. Max has been hired for a specific
job after all<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There is his professional pride at stake here..."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM: </b><i>The greasy weasel that sits before Anton looks
furtively at Lady Chastity, then meets the Hawkwood's gaze. He chuckles. He
speaks with the nasal tones one might associate with a bookkeeper or
upper-middle class social climber.</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"First of all, we have not been properly introduced so
I will forgive you the disparaging insult to myself, my House and my station.
Duels have been fought for less. You will please address me as "Sir"
Mercucio or an appropriate form of deference depending on your rank."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>He pulls himself up straight in the chair, seemingly in
an attempt to convey his bearing and station. He sinks almost immediately. It
would appear that "slightly hunched" is his natural pose.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Secondly my House has been associated with House
Decados since the fall of Vladimir. As such do you really believe that I have
endured and inflicted greater punishments and tortures than you or your pet
ogre here could devise? You flatter yourself and further underestimate and
insult me."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>He shifts in the chair again. The cadre notice that his
hands are bound behind his back and the ligatures seem to be irritating him.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Thirdly, do you really not believe that my honoured
Lady here," He nods to Chastity. "Has not already used only a mere
modicum of the exquisite skill she possesses in this area to make me tell her
absolutely every damn thing she wanted to know!" As he speaks so his
temper rises with every syllable until that last word <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it literally spat at De Havilland. Suddenly
the Van Gelder is composed again. The venom concealed as his sinks back to the
weaselly, hunched and decrepit little figure he first appeared to be. Hemlock
is reminded of the dried husk of a dead spider.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"And so, finally, can we please just have a civil
conversation where I will attempt to answer your questions and then, perhaps,
we can all assist each other in resolving our present predicament?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> <i>Looks to Chastity.</i> "He’s
been in there for 2 days? Still pretty sparky and fairly confident still that
his lord and master will save him. Mal, you got any tools in your unique skill
set that apply here"?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio):</b> "My Lord and master? My employer is
m'lady's father! Why do you think I would be waiting for any other aid? She is
right there, and I have been "rescued" in exactly the way I would
anticipate help to come! The fact that I am still alive is both a blessing and
a curse and speaks to me that I either still serve a useful purpose or that
m'lady and his Lordship have something far more horrific in store."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>He breathes a deep sigh.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I would very much prefer it to be the former rather
than the later and therefore I shall continue to seek to be as compliant and
helpful as possible. Now, how abouts you give up the veiled threats and
actually ask some questions?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"And if anyone has any smokes of any sort, I'd be much
obliged if I could bum one off you?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Then why does she keep you in a
locker and refer to you in such terms? Seems a strange thing to do to an
employee, especially where that employee has apparently arranged for objects a
dubious nature concerning Demon worship to be associated to their master’s
daughter."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Also odd that you haven't taken this brief opportunity
to ask why you were seized"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> <i>Hemlock whispers to Chastity,</i> "I
understood that both he and you had been similarly framed, with objects from
his Al Malik associate."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio):</b> "I have not arranged for anything to
be associated with m'lady!" <i>Sir Mercucio's tone is initially exasperated
but swiftly shifts to the slow and frequently pausing manner that of one trying
to explain something to a child or an adult of limited awareness...</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I am as much a victim here, you fool, but how Lady
Chastity chooses to deal with a subordinate who she has believed has failed her
father is up to her not you. I will not have YOU judging HER disciplinary
measures. I can understand her belief that I have made mistakes and failed her
father and she has a right to deal with that failure as she sees fit, whoever
you are you are obviously not a part of her or my House and so neither she nor
I need answer to you."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> <i>Turns to Chastity</i>. "Now I am
satisfied. You picked wisely M'Lady. With your permission I will ask the
straight'forward questions we have?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Chastity):</b> "Whatever." <i>Chastity moves
away to busy herself with a table of gear and various items set off to one
side. She remains within earshot but it appears that this exchange is either
boring her or she has heard it all before</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b><b> </b> "What
is the name of the Al-Malik associate that we are told planted the antimonist
material?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"What was the nature of your business with them and for
how long?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio): </b>"Now we're getting somewhere, perhaps
there is hope for a mutually beneficial relationship after all...The
"associate" you refer to is Sir Ali Em Sabu Criticorumiyy al-Malik.
He and I have a shared interest in the powers of the mind and the broadening of
the human experience into a psychic plane of existence. We have corresponded at
length over such matters and have played host to each other as guests."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>He waives nonchalantly as he tells the tale. Anton can
imagine that Mercucio sees himself as a raconteur and the life and soul of a
party.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"We are both collectors of knowledge and artefacts
which relate to our shared passion and we would often boast of our most recent acquisitions.
After some years our strengthening relationship had obviously reached the point
where he felt he could trust me enough to show me some of his more "private"
collection. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now, I would clarify this by saying that even my collection
and the collection that Ali had shared with me up to that point would be
considered abhorrent and heretical by certain members of the church, those who
consider all psychic abilities to be the work of Darkness, for example. However
even I balked at some of the esoterica Ali showed me. His collection
encompassed much that was macabre or at least borderline antimonistic, if not
fully of qlippothic origin. In hindsight I should have summoned the retribution
of the church upon him at that point but, to my regret, I did not. My reasons
were base ones; I feared that if discovered I would be implicated and tarred
with the same brush, I thought that the knowledge gave me leverage over him
should I need it in future and finally there was a part of me that was curious,
albeit also revolted, to learn more of such items and how they might relate to
"pure" psychic ability."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"When such items were found on my property, and that of
Lady Chastity, I recognised them from Sir Ali's collection. How they were
placed there I do not know, whether it was by direct action of Ali, an agent on
his behalf or a third party who has taken objects from him, I do not know. To
be frank I was more concerned to avoid the flame guns of the Avestite
inquisitors that arrived at my door than to stop to ponder the detail of how
the items had been inserted into my domicile."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Do none of you have a smoke of any sort then?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "I'm afraid I never acquired the habit, sir.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Was it the framing that caused you to break off
contact with Constance san Tandere, or did something happen beforehand?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Further, what more can you tell us about Sir Ali Em
Sabu Criticorumiyy al-Malik?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is he part
of a broader coven?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is he related to
anyone significant?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is he also
hunted?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What are his capabilities?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he presented the worst esoterica to you,
did he show any fondness or affinity, or was it more fascination with the
macabre?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did he make your acquaintance
before or after you started passing funds through Constance?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM:</b> <i>Mercucio turns his head to meet Hemlock with a
sideways glance.</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I was warned off dealing with the San Tandere woman
before the artefacts were planted in my possession. As for being a member of a
coven, some might consider the trading of ideas that we shared would connect
Ali and I as a" coven".... However I believe that he did mention a
"Club" of like minded individuals that he frequented in Hawkwood
space, Ravenna I think it was.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To my knowledge he holds no high station, nor are his
relations particularly notable. I believe he has an aunt on Ravenna, hence the
connection."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"As far as I know the church does not hunt him and
there is no obvious connection between the evidence implicating Lady Chastity
and I and himself.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He was certainly fascinated by the items that he showed me
and seemed to hold a desire to know more, whether his studies took him far down
those dark paths I really could not say, nor would I truly wish to know. "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">".. And I have known him for a good dozen or so years,
far longer than Count Innocence's investment in Captain Corteaz' affairs."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal:</b> <i>Mal whispers to De Havilland<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"we may have to deal with the club and the twins sooner
than anticipated... "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>"How safe is it for us to determine
the identity of this aunt?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Are there records kept of such things that we could
find access to?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Did he ever mention a connection to the Justinian
family at all?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio): </b>"I don't recall a mention of House
Justinian, but our conversation tended to dwell on more complex and occult
matters than mundane politics and family trees."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "How fortunate for you. Do you know
of any means on Criticorum that we could identify this Aunt?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"If not then I expect we will just need to determine
how to find this man, Sir Ali."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio):</b> "There will be peerage documents which
a Reeve or local al-Malik household could access."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> <i>To Mal, quietly</i> "If our
friend here is psychic could you identify his talent for us please?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>De Havilland asks</i>, "Aside from an interest in
psychic phenomena can I assume that you and Sir Ali both demonstrate psychic
abilities in some capacity?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal: </b><i>Mal whispers back </i>"Step ahead of you, his aptitude
is in psyche, the same as Hasimir (from what I recall), and sympathy. Due to
the nature of both I've been keeping a close eye on him just in case. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Try not to think about something you wouldn't want him to
know... "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Good work, this is your area so
let me know if anything untoward is going on"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "Sir Mercucio, how were you persuaded to break
contact with Constance?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio):</b> "Force. I am, as you might assuage,
not inclined, or designed, for martial pursuits. Pugilism and weaponry hold no
allure. When a group of personages with violent intent come knocking on one's
door with a simple offer vis-a-vis they will not spread your entrails over the
wall if you stop sending funds to a Reeve, I am therefore inclined to take
their very kind offer."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Over the following weeks I was considering my future
options, knowing that Count Innocence would eventually discover my disobedience
in some way when the Avestites came looking for me too."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"In hindsight I suppose it is perfectly plausible that
the ruffians who assailed me in my own home could have been the same party as
placed the incriminating evidence. They certainly had the access."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Are you psychic and if so what
power do you possess?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio):</b> "I thought that was clear from my
relationship with Ali... I am gifted with certain psychic abilities, yes. In
the common vernacular of the magic lantern shows or salacious articles in the
Town Cryer I would be called a telepath. By the more accurate classification of
the Flavian Institute I would be said to have a level of mastery in the paths
of Psyche and Sympathy. "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal:</b> <i>murmuring under his breath </i>"I told you
so..."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Psyche I know a little of. Tell me
about Sympathy"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal: </b>"I'd be interested to know your answer as well,
it's a path I'm less knowledgeable on"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM: </b><i>Mercurio squints at Mal for a moment as if trying to
size up whether he is a peer or a threat, then sighs and turns once more to De
Havilland.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Sympathy is a supplementary path... It is a gift of
limited use on its own, but it can be of great use when combined with other
powers.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fundamentally, and in a way that your minds may have a
chance to grasp it, Sympathy allows a psychic to build more permanent
connections or links. These in turn make other gifts easier to use, and over
longer ranges. "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> <i>De Havilland smiles at Mercucio.</i>
"My idiot brain tells me you have a connection with this Ali. I am
wondering whether it works the same for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How much have you already shared with Ali using your precious permanent
connection"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Are you possibly sharing something with him this very
moment?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio):</b> "Yes, I have a Bond to Ali but it is a
one way street. I Bonded him but he doesn't have the capability to Bond me, to
my knowledge he has not walked that Path of study. You cannot establish a Bond
with a subject who is unwilling so I would know if he had even attempted to
create such a link with me. I have never had much interest in covens and groups
so I have not pushed my mastery of Sympathy beyond the ability to Bond an
individual or a location.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">While a Bond makes the usage of my gifts easier I am not so
talented that you would not see the effort on my visage. But I appreciate the
flattery."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Look, if none of you straight arrows have a smoke on
you, have you at least got some liquor? I'm frightfully parched."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "We have a ship full of Selchakah
if you fancied a smoke but then that particular sting is why we are now sat
here trying to work out what we are going to do about it. I do have a few
Ravenna ci-gars if you want one."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio): </b>"Ah...a roll of Ravenna leaf would be
much appreciated."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "To Sir Ali, what was his
particular psychic talent? Might be good to know what that is. With regards to
Antinonmist powers we have some experience in confronting those but not much.
At least knowing his psychic threat is a start"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "Agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I think Sir Ali is someone we will need to confront."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Hemlock looks dubiously at the ci-gar, too used to being
aboard ship where smoke sets off the air scrubber alarms.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Mercucio):</b>"Heheheh..." <i>He takes a long
slow drag of tobacco while clenching the slim cigarillo in his teeth while his
hands remain bound.</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Ahhhhh...." <i>Pungent smoke drifts out from
between his clenched teeth.</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"If you were to believe Ali all psychic powers are his
to command...I'm pretty sure that in reality he has command of the Sixth Sense.
Although one of the reasons I was first interested in correspondence with him
was that he has some command of the rare and complex gift known as "Omen".
He appears to be able to see glimpses of the past and future."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> <i>De Havilland takes one of his
cigarillos and lights it. He gets up and paces about for a bit. </i>"He'll
be expecting someone to look for him. Probably using that power of his to gain
insight. Not sure how we contend with that."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Any other situation and we could have laid a trail for
others to follow to his door. On this occasion we need him ourselves and so can’t
do that." Turns to Mercucio "Is there any way the bond you have to
him could be utilised in some way, a name or a place or an image? We need
accurate current Intel on his location but maybe you might have a means to gain
some insight here. If not, then we are forced to look to more traditional
methods. But, from what I see all roads lead to us finding this man and
questioning him. I do feel we are walking into completely unknown territory
here"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I feel outgunned as usual but the Antinonomy aspect is
concerning "<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Turns to Chastity,</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Do you have any idea whether the Inquisition are looking for you
on Criticorum yet? Are they already here or do we think they are still
searching?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">" Be just our luck to find Sir Ali and have an Avestite
Apostle turn up at the same time"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal:</b> "Depending on how skilled he is, I might be able
to level the playing field, but we would need to be able to find him first and
get closer to him..."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM:</b> <i>Sir Mercucio attempts to raise a bound hand but fails<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Urm, whilst as yet they may not be seeking M'lady the
Inquisition are certainly active in their hunt for me, hence my current
unshaven state and lack of in-season attire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh, and If he's close enough I could read Ali's surface thoughts but
nothing deeper and can send mental messages to him. I cannot sense his presence
though."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Aside for looking for Sir Ali is
there any specific items we need to consider to bring with us? Personally I
have no idea how we could deal with an Antinmonist and I expect we would need a
priest perhaps to have any Hope's there. If anyone has any ideas now is the
time to raise them"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock</b>: "To my mind, things Chastity's agents can
recover from the ship will give us advantages in stealth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can use the camouflage cloak, and lend the
blur suit to you or Mal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, you
might be a bit broad across the shoulders, Anton.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Sir Ali must know his items have been used.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So either he's party to the scheme, or he is
likely concerned that the trail could lead the inquisition to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In either case, we can assume he's prepared
for unwelcome guests, possibly by fleeing himself.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Sir Mercucio, do you have any insight as to where he
might be?"<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM:</b> <i>Mercucio is sat back in the chair, taking a long,
ponderous, inhale on his smoke. He leans forward to let the collected ash fall
to the floor between his legs. It is done in such a practiced way that it
occurs to Hemlock that this may not have been the first time the Van Gelder has
had to smoke without the use of his hands.</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"He has a place in the capital, Archeon but, like I
said, he's known to visit family and his club on Ravenna. Likewise he often
travels the Jumpweb to secure artefacts or object d'arte for his collection.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He doesn't have a fief to speak of, his income must come
from business investments and other revenues."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>"I still don’t get what is
supposedly motivating our Emerald Lady here. Hemlock has been coming and going
from Ravenna for years. Why suddenly now is his mother supposedly making plans
to thwart his business ventures?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even
Hemlock is lost on this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
understand what has changed to warrant this overreaction. Something has
changed, or someone has changed. .."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM:</b> <i>Chastity looks up from her equipment checks</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Hemlock is the afterthought<i>." She pauses
suddenly and looks across at Hemlock, there is a glimmer of regret or perhaps
embarrassment and then it is gone.</i> <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"It would be more accurate to say that he is the cream
on the cake, the surprise bonus. This is about revenge, pure and simple. She is
striking out at those she blames for taking her son away or disrupting her
plans. Remember that this began before it was known on Ravenna that you had
returned from the lost worlds. The last we all knew you had disappeared into
Barbarian territory. I think that it only took as long as it did for her to put
her plan into motion because my father kept his connections and business
dealings secret. If she had had a way to reliably strike back sooner I have
little doubt that she would have."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"This way she gets at my father's business investments,
Corteaz and me and through us, hurts my father."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Hemlock:</b> "How does our engagement fit into this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems odd that my mother would agree to
her son being engaged to someone she was acting against.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose she might have thought me lost for
good, or believed her schemes would negate the engagement."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>GM – (Chastity):</b> "If you'll recall the original
marriage petition from my father was to yours. As I understand it the majority
of House Justinian are traditionalist fuddy-duddies....must be why they get on
so well with the Big Boring Blue Lions..." <i>She winks at Anton</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"And we all know by now that your daddy-dearest is in
that old school camp. Any betrothal would be agreed by him, as head of his
household, not his darling and demure wife. Pancreator only knows what happened
behind closed doors once she found out - or whether she was in agreement as it
served her wider purposes...I'm not a mind reader like our friend here."
She waves the vicious looking blade she had taken from the table in Mercucio's
general direction.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"It does occur to me that there are a few players
engaged in this drama and while some actions might suit another's purposes,
they aren't all acting as a single faction with one goal. If there was one
singular threat or machinator above all then I would place good money on your
mother." She fixes Hemlock with a gaze that somehow seems both severe and
sympathetic at the same time, as if trying to drive home the point while
knowing that it may be a bitter pill to swallow.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mal:</b> "I would definitely take that bet. I think another
party may have a larger roll than we have so far given them credit..."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Several roads have led back to the noble's club on
Ravenna. Even when looking back at past events, they have still been floating
around. You say your Al Malik friend has a connection, they are responsible for
recent events on the Ravenna. For all we know Hasimir was, for who knows how
long, or still is being puppeteered by them. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know we have nothing concrete to connect any of this to
them, but there is still a link. I don't think we should ignore such a
connection. After all, we have no way of knowing if one party may be
controlling the other."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Perhaps Sir Ali can help provide some information on
what the connection is, if we can get close enough to ask."<o:p></o:p></p>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-68834003350033120792020-08-10T11:22:00.001+01:002020-08-10T11:22:05.222+01:00Session forty-eight<p>The cadre arrive on Criticorum, landing at Ost spaceport. There they are met by representatives of the Merchants League who proceed to board and inspect the cargo. Mal is concerned that his outlaw status may be recognised so he hides aboard the ship. </p><p>The cargo inspection reveals that the plants that they are carrying are Severan poppies, the source of the drug Selchakah. As the crew had broken the seal of one of the containers the Customs Officer rules that they cannot say that they did not know what was within and has his guards place them under arrest. Max suggests fighting their way out but De Havilland dissuades him.</p><p>Anton, Hemlock, Max and Ylanath are taken under arrest to a facility some distance from the spaceport while Mal remains hidden aboard the Innocent Pursuit.</p><p>After being separated into male and female cells the cadre are left to stew about their "crimes". They discuss how they may have been set up, available options and what they can do next, meanwhile, after the guilders have left the ship Mal sneaks off the vessel and makes to leave the spaceport via the perimeter fence. </p><p>That evening the prison receives an unexpected visitor. A lithe and stealthy figure dressed all in black breaks in to the cells and releases De Havilland, Max and Hemlock. They are about to leave but the cadre insists that Ylanath is also rescued.</p><p>The mysterious stranger takes them to the warehouse district near the spaceport and to a hideout within one of the warehouse units. They then reveal their identity: the Lady Chastity Decados.<br /><br />Sharing their respective information they learn that Lady Chastity has come to Criticorum to locate the same Van Gelder knight that the cadre has, Sir Mercucio Van Gelder. He, like Chastity has been accused of antimony and has gone into hiding. Chastity informs the group that he is an agent of her father and that it was Count Innocence, through the intermediaries of Mercucio and Ms San Tander, who had been bankrolling Corteaz' expedition. He was doing it by way of thanks to Hemlock. Chastity also advises Hemlock that, in his absence, his father Baron Tochiro Matsumoto Justinian, accepted Count Innocence's offer of his daughter as a suitor for Hemlock. They are currently betrothed to be wed. </p><p>The cadre manage to raise Mal (who is evading guild security patrols) via squwarker and arrange meet up with him.</p><p>From Chastity's information it appears that she and Mercucio have been set up using materials from the collection of an Al Malik knight, Sir Ali Em Sabu Al Malik. This plays into suspicions she, and Anton, have that the party behind all this is Hemlock's mother, Baroness Esmeralda Al Malik Justinian. It is Chastity's belief that Hemlock's mother blames Count Innocence in some way for her "losing" her son due to the events of the Dame Arcadia controversy and is manipulating things to get revenge. </p><p>The group take stock and plan what to do next...</p><p><br /></p>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-90962865028551014222020-07-12T14:44:00.002+01:002020-07-15T10:53:01.004+01:00Session forty-seven<div style="text-align: justify;">The cadre are reunited in Byzantium Secundus, De Havilland having completed his business with the Phoenix Order and the rest of the group having returned from the planetary agora with Constance San Tandair in tow. They trade information, Anton explaining some of what transpired with his Order and Hemlock telling him and Mal about what he had learned regarding Lady Chastity (see recent Interlude posts for details). They then make preparations to leave for Cumulus Station as soon as possible. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">En route to the spaceport the cadre think that they are being watced or followed and so make an effort to lose any pursuers at the monorail station. Confident that they have lost any tails they head to the spaceport and prepare the Innocent Pursuit for takeoff.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Heading into space Hemlock lays in a course to Cumulus at full burn and the cadre and their passengers (Constance and Ylanath) slip into a cramped but tolerable shipboard routine.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Mal takes the time to speak with De Havilland and explain how he plans to try to be a better person and as evidence of which he returns a numer of small items he had stolen from Anton, and his estate, over the years. He is about to hand over a fork he stole in their recent stay at the manor on Ravenna when he gets a sudden psychic flash and hears Hasimir's voice. Mal asks De Havilland if he can hold onto the item for a while longer and then spends much of the rest of the journey in solitude meditating on it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">About half way into the trip the ship's long range sensors detect another ship of similar size on an intercept course. Knowing that such a thing is highly unlikely to be coincidence Hemlock recommends that they try to evade it. Working together with a combination of De Havilland's tactical knowledge, Hemlock's piloting and Max's engineering they manage to keep the other vessel at the edge of sensor range and dock safely at the station.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once ensconced aboard Cumulus Constance honours their agreement and provides details of her backer. The investor is Sir Mercucio Van Gelder, a minor House knight who is based in the city of Ost on Criticorum. De Havilland makes some enquiries via his gossip network and learns that Sir Mercucio is currently on being sought by the Inquisition after being accused of antimony. In fact he is alledged to be a member of the same coven as Lady Chastity. Hearing this De Havilland and Hemlock are set to wondering if there is a connection to Count Innocence. They then fill Max in on their history with the Decados and what this could all mean.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The next conundrum that the cadre face is how to arrange a jump to Criticorum. They explore a few options and Mal makes some enquiries aboard the station, eventually finding "Smiling Larry", a Charioteer (who later, and after some persuasion, gives his name as Larance Chuchar). He says that he has been let down by another ship and desperately needs his time sensitive cargo transported to Criticorum. He is willing to give Sir Hemlock, who is in good standing with the Guild, a jump key as payment for taking his cargo. The goods are perishable plants and if they aren't delivered to Criticorum with all haste Chucar will be in breach of his contract, lose a substantial amount of money and the goods will be spoilt which will mean he cannot resell them. To him a jumpkey is a small price to pay.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After agreeing the cadre have the goods (about half a dozen sealed crates) loaded into the Innocent Pursuit's small hold and set off for the jumpgate. Mal cannot resist breaching a seal and taking a look at the contents. He doesn't know what they are but they are certainly plants!</div>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-65920374089864320212020-07-05T23:07:00.000+01:002020-07-05T23:07:53.189+01:00Interlude - Alumni<div>It was passing through a park in the Imperial City that Hemlock heard his name called. She was sheltering from the incessant rain under a cedar tree, now stood just apart from a cluster of other sharply-dressed nobles. Only she hadn’t called his full name, but “Lock”.</div><div>Yueying Li Halan. Ebon-skinned, froths of lace at her cuffs, an elegant little duelling scar on one cheek. “It is you!” she beckoned him out of the squall.</div><div>“Hello, Yueying,” under cover, Hemlock swept back his hood.</div><div>She gasped, “It’s true,” covering her grin with her fingers.</div><div>“What is?”</div><div>“But where did you get all these scars from?” she touched one carving a line down his cheek, “Have you been dueling Hazat-style?”</div><div>“Something like that.” Keats might flinch. Hemlock lifted his chin.</div><div>“And your eyes! What on Urth possessed you?”</div><div>“Excuse me?” this conversation was quickly spiraling to unwelcome places.</div><div>“Ice blue suited you! But grey? They look like maxicrete!” Yueying grimaced, “I hope their functions make up for their colour.”</div><div>“My means were limited at the time.” There was something else she’d said. What was it? Oh, yes, “What is true?”</div><div>“The Decados affair!”</div><div>“I was not aware I was of sufficient significance for my exploits to have reached Byzantium Secundus.”</div><div>“I like to keep track of my fellow Alumni. And I’ve found one of our lost sheep!” she beamed (perfectly straight, bright teeth), “You’ve been a mysterious absence in the newsletter.”</div><div>“I’m afraid I haven’t read it, and I feel unchivalrous that my activities are monopolizing our reunion,” he should ask something, but her business with the abbey (he recalled) seemed too scandalous, and so long had passed since the academy that –</div><div>“Oh no! You’re not getting off that easily! Despite your house’s history, you were her first – what was it about her? – then you vanish for years and return with tattoos and piercings, and all in black. Loose the purple cloak and you could be Decados!”</div><div>“No. It all means something else,” flickers of someone else’s memories, a glimpse that maybe Hemlock isn’t real. His voice cracked, rising, “Is this about the Lady Chastity?”</div><div>Yueying laughed, “Who else? Duke Innocence emerges into society for the first time in years – one of his nephews is in the newsletter: you must remember Petenka – and his daughter proceeds to work her way through the whole Ravenna court, but she starts with you, and she was with you for far longer than any of her flings. At the academy, I always wondered if you were saving yourself. What was it about her?”</div><div>Hemlock frowned. An affair with a Decados: that would make others remember his name. But he’d always been a poor liar, “We were just good friends.”</div><div>“Of course you were.”</div><div>“Lady Chastity was an impeccable guest, and my failings as a host were not worthy of her. While our last meeting was difficult, I continue to hold her in the highest regard, and look forward to meeting her again. Please put that in the newsletter.”</div><div>“Sir Hemlock Justinian holds Lady Chastity Decados in the highest regard,” eyebrows raised, smiling at the prospect, “despite accusations of antimony?”</div><div>“Excuse me?”</div><div>“You hadn’t heard?” Yueying laughed.</div><div>“Whatever it is, I refuse to believe it.”</div><div>“Lock, where have you been? She’s hunted by the inquisition, part of a coven that raised husks at one of your deep core cities a few years ago.”</div><div>“Deep core one-oh-three. We encountered those husks. Their antimonist died at my hand – an interesting duel since she was shielded and I was not – then we bombarded their ritual site.” Hemlock scowled, “And I have experienced just how little regard some church officials have for facts.”</div><div>“So quick to defend her. You’re sure those aren’t Decados tattoos?”</div><div>“A souvenir of the Lost Worlds. I’m afraid I have to go,” he pulled up his hood, though the squall had passed.</div><div>“Wait! Lost worlds?”</div><div>“Perhaps we could meet at a coffee house?”</div><div>“The Gilded Rat!” she called, as Hemlock strode away, “Ask for me there!”</div><div><br></div>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-75695933874694843292020-06-30T14:07:00.000+01:002020-06-30T14:07:47.706+01:00Interlude - And how can we help sir today?<div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland examined the sorry-looking creature in front of him carefully. It appeared somewhat familiar but there was still a resounding sense of the “unrecognisable” about it. He shifted in his chair uneasily as a sudden sharp sense of dread came over him. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Well...” he pondered, wriggling around in his seat like a child being fitted for a wedding outfit, “what would you recommend?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The barber appeared to spasm momentarily and then very quickly recovered the moment up by coughing rather elaborately.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Perhaps your lordship could explain perhaps the look he was going for at the time that this...natural disaster occurred?” he questioned pulling strands of De Havilland's hair outwards in all directions.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland stared at his reflection in the mirror in front of him. It had been a very long time since he had need or want to consider his outward appearance. He wasn't really sure he was qualified to make any sort of appropriate decision on the topic anymore.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Perhaps just a trim?” he queried expectantly, which was sadly immediately followed by another coughing fit from the barber.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Maybe your lordship could explain a little bit about his role, or perhaps whether he will be meeting people of purpose at all. I might then have more of an idea as to what might be required.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland mulled over the words carefully. Eighty percent of him was wondering how appropriate it might be for him to be seen smashing a barber’s head through a plate glass window; the remaining 20% knew that he probably deserved to be treated like a barbarian. He was after all in the Known Worlds now and was expected to look just like everyone else, no matter how disappointing a thought that might be. The Marquis peered at himself again in the mirror.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I’ll tell you what” he stated, “you fix me a large drink from your collection of spirits from over there and I’ll figure out what we are doing. I have the distinct impression that this is going to be a lot harder work than either of us anticipate.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The barber picked up a pair of scissors and looked De Havilland in the eye.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I very much doubt that…” he quipped.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">About an hour and a half later a statelier if still imposing figure of The Marquis De Havilland stepped out of “Bryon’s Gentlemen Grooming Establishment”. The hair was now a socially acceptable shoulder length although in some places De Havilland had retained some of the Vuldrok warrior braiding and beading of his original look. He had thought it might add a touch of dramatic flair for the fashion conscious of the city who might (strangely as it might appear) want to imitate him. His beard had been a real trial. The wild bushiness of it had been cropped back, but he had chosen still to retain a neat and refined gentlemen’s beard. His moustache he kept longer than the beard as he had really missed the feeling of having one over the past years. His skin, beard and hair had all been treated with an astonishing assortment of various oils and potions and despite their own objections the grooming established had been tasked to spend some time attending to his hands and nails. Overall it had probably been one of the most uncomfortable periods De Havilland had ever spent in civilised space. He had of course refused eyebrow trims and a whole host of other fads, (some of which sounded more like Decados interrogation techniques) but he was satisfied that he had probably managed to capture the populist image of the dashing explorer Phoenix Knight. He was now wearing some of the new clothes that he had picked up earlier that day and felt ready now to make a first trip to the offices of the Phoenix Order. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Perhaps just one more drink would be advisable first though.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You are Anton, Marquis De Havilland Hawkwood and your liege lord by estate is one Count Otto Kierkegaard Hawkwood of Ravenna. Is this correct?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You are a member of The Company of the Phoenix and have sworn to uphold the values and principles that our order espouses in active service to his Imperial Majesty, our Emperor Alexius.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “You have forsworn all political ties and affiliations to your noble house for the period of your service and have been given the rights and freedoms to serve His Majesty without impediment by grace of your liege lord through his observance to the authority of the throne?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “You have come here to this office today of your own free will in honourable service to His Majesty, and the words you speak here will be your own, and are not the views, testimony or instructions of another party?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “For the benefit of the clerk the hearing panel today consists of myself - Baron Audley Mountbatten, Her Ladyship Ciera Li Halan and Her Ladyship Latha Saritha Akilla Al Malik who are all serving knights with the Company of the Phoenix.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Marquis De Havilland, can you confirm that you know and have been made aware of the reasons as to why you have been summonsed here today?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">““Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “The panel are now providing The Marquis with a copy of his summons letter, which states the following:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">From the desk of Baron Eviathan Hawkwood, leader of the knights of the Order of the Phoenix,</div><div style="text-align: justify;">To the Marquis Anton Hawkwood De Havilland, Phoenix knight.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sir,</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You are summonsed to appear before your peers in the noble Order of the Phoenix, to which you swore your oath, to give account of the conduct of your sworn Cohort, the Ur-Obun known as Tonbei vo Khaan. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">You are expected, at your earliest convenience, in the halls of the Order in the Imperial Palace, Galatea on Byzantium Secundus, when a meeting of a council of your peers will be convened.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">By the light of the divine Pancreator.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Have you seen and read this letter before?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “Have you read the notices concerning this process?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “Do you have any other questions concerning either the summons or this process?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“No, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “Before we start I will bring forward the written testimony of Sir Vim Militas-Djinn Al Malik, knight of the Company of the Phoenix who wrote to this office at the same time that your official notice concerning the events of this investigation were first brought to light. For the sake of the clerk, this letter provides positive character references concerning the Marquis De Havilland and his actions concerning threat of political unrest on Ravenna and beyond between the Justinian and Hawkwood Houses. We also received more recent notice regarding the Marquis’ foray into barbarian space in order to support the expansion of the Phoenix Empire, which is in fulfilment of his sworn duties; and if this is correct might be used in testimony on his behalf.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron puts his papers down and looks up at De Havilland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Marquis, can you share with the panel where and how you first met the Ur-Oban, Tonbei vo Khaan please?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I met Tonbei during the Emperor Wars. I can’t recall our very first meeting but certainly it was whilst my unit were on active duty in Velisamil …</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“The Oban homeworld?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, my lord. My unit were stationed there for a period during the war as a standing force and then, as the war progressed, we were moved on as needed. But certainly, it was whilst on Velisamil that I first came in to contact with Tonbei.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“And how did you take him at that time?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“As an individual or as a soldier?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Both”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I found him to be a very quiet and dutiful character. I had no real experience of others of his race before but my time on Velisamil, but from what I could determine later he was fairly typical of his kin. Tonbei was picked out as an exceptional soldier and had made himself a strong candidate for the unit. I don’t know how we ended up working together but I know that at that time I liked working with him. It became apparent that together we offered the unit more tactical options than the usual standing troops. Certainly, I was more of your typical squad leader at that time and he was something of a specialist but together we were very successful at a number of the more covert operations, particularly in situations of close proximity to imperial citizens.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Can you explain that further please?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Certainly. Tonbei was an exceptional covert operator. He was able to get into situations without being seen and could deal with light security teams quite comfortably. I was more tactical in my training and could provide him with a clear plan of attack. In addition, I could provide a more traditional armed support on operations when a diversion or extraction was needed.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I see. We thank you for your service during the Emperor Wars Marquis, as we thank all those who served and died to bring about natural order. We note to the clerk that we are now reviewing the war record of Tonbei vo Khaan which I believe…[turns to the others] that we have all read?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The others sat either side of Baron Audley both nod and respond positively.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“How would you regard his service during those years Marquis?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I’d have to say it was very good. It was a lot to do with our success during the wars that lead to us taking up the option of joining as Imperial servants within the Phoenix Order.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, you both applied together, and you were his sponsor at the time?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Well…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Are you aware of the responsibilities and liabilities of the sponsorship of Imperial Cohorts Marquis?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was silence.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I take it that you were made aware of those responsibilities at the time Tonbei vo Khaan was made an Imperial Cohort?” The question was made a little louder this time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“…Yes…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ciera Li Halan stares at De Havilland studying him carefully. 5 years ago he would have cowered under that gaze. Today he felt surprisingly more able to hold it for reasons he didn’t fully understand.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Let us move on for a moment. So, to summarise you were both offered service, you as an Imperial Phoenix Knight and Tonbei as your assigned Cohort.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “And you provided that service in a number of campaigns [flicks through some pages] before arriving on Ravenna, which is where the focus of our session will rest.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some time was then spent analysing the career and actions of De Havilland and Tonbei during their various campaigns. It seemed to De Havilland that the panel went out of their way to belittle and demean any and all of their works and labours over those years. Learning your craft was a difficult challenge for a Phoenix Knight and very costly if mistakes were made as part of that process, but that certainly didn’t stop the panel from making it clear that they did not hold the pair’s accomplishments with any degree of respect. Quite the contrary in fact. To speak ill of the dead is one thing but De Havilland kept getting the feeling that his own name was being muddied in with Tonbei’s all too frequently. To him it didn’t feel like justice was being served. Until finally, after many hours of sneering commentary…</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">“…I take it the panel have read the full account leading to the event of Tonbei vo Khaan’s death?</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron turns to the knights either side of him; Ciera keeps her eyes firmly on De Havilland but both she and Latha nod their confirmation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Marquis, could you summarise your own statement on the matter please?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Marquis composed his thoughts, summoning up a series of words and names he hadn’t need to recall for many a year.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Tonbei was killed by Sir Hasimir Fenrig Torenson and his aide, Virssu Lainis. He had attempted to attack Baron Christopher Hawkwood in the early hours of the morning, at a point when the Baron was retired to bed. Tonbei was killed as an unidentifiable assassin, and then immediately after his death he was identified by Sir Hasimir. As you would expect, I was approached the very next morning…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I expect the Baron supposed you were behind the attack?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes Your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “And were you?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The question seemed to puncture the very space between De Havilland and his peers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“That would be absurd. I had absolutely nothing to gain from the death of the Baron”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“And yet according to our findings you personally believed the Barons presence in Deepcore 104 to be a significant political problem?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I thought his presence was deliberately provocative if that is what you mean? It seemed to me to be either a direct attempt to stir bitter reprisals by the Justinian’s or at the very least a deeply flawed decision.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“So you feel you were more capable of making decisions regarding this matter?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I would not have sent a power hungry Hawkwood to nurse vulnerable Justinian adolescents in a sector already marred by considerable controversy.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You feel it your duty to make decisions concerning the management of domestic matters?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“When those decisions threaten the very lives of the common people there, then I do have an obligation…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Did you tell the Planetary Duke that you did not feel him capable of managing his own affairs?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland stopped. This was indeed surprising territory. Discussion of the Planetary Duke could have any number of unforeseen consequences. He had not expected an old warhorse like Audley to need to wander into this sort of territory at all. There was more going on here than he could fathom. De Havilland’s survival instincts suddenly kicked into life.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“No, of course not. On the contrary. The Duke is most definitely capable of managing his own affairs. I expect everything worked out exactly as he would have wished.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Meaning?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Meaning I have every confidence the Duke is managing his political affairs…correctly. But then of course that would not be something I would ever have cause to be interested in myself”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Do you resent being asked these questions Marquis?” interjected Ciera without warning. She leaned forward in her seat like an old school-master and seemingly peering into the very inner workings of his mind.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“No, of course not…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“But you do. A great deal. Why?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland looked at her without expression. He wondered how much she could read of his thoughts and feelings on the matter. He had heard that she was an expert at interrogation. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">He certainly, was not. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I would prefer to keep to the subject of Tonbei if it is all the same to the panel.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Are you offended about being asked your views here Marquis? Surely you would be pleased that we are showing an interest. We are just trying to put you at your ease?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“No, I am not pleased. I would prefer to keep discussions to the subject matter in question.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“What are you afraid of De Havilland?” she followed up again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I would prefer to keep to the subject matter in question” he repeated indignantly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The room was quiet for a long time whilst the 3 members of the panel eyed De Havilland carefully. When the silence was broken it was Baron Audley who spoke first.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Do you still claim that Tonbei was [refers to his reams of notes and reads directly from one page]…a member of an order you referred to as ‘The Slayers Guild’ and in the service of Count Innocence Decados?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes Your Lordship”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “Even though that group is well known to be a figment of myth; a superstition of the common people?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland grew impatient.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Is it…?” he responded with a slight tone of sarcasm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“There is no credible proof that any group calling themselves ‘The Slayers Guild’ ever existed at all.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I suppose the Ukar knives with the non-existent sigil were as much of a sign as you are ever likely to expect.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“A decorative drawing left at the scene of a crime is not exactly a completely unknown phenomenon.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“No, indeed, that much is true. But the existence or not of this group is not significant to the outcome either. Tonbei was recruited to commit murder, and commit murder, he did.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“But you can understand the challenge here Marquis. You suggest that the Count enlisted Tonbei through contact with this organisation. If this organisation does not exist then perhaps neither too does the Counts involvement here?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“One does not necessarily preclude the other. We had testimony of the fact in front of witnesses.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, so I note. Such credible witnesses as Sir Hassimir Fenrig Torenson who by all accounts is indeed a master of table etiquette and is now more popularly known within the empire as a self-confessed psychic, and Sir Hemlock Justinian, whose own family currently lie in a considerable state of disgrace concerning the trade of banned Second Age technologies. I won’t even bother to mention the other members of this crew who supposedly heard this same confession. Hardly a credible batch of witnesses, is it Marquis?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, it is a shame some of the more acceptable members of society were not present but then I expect there was some really important work for them to be doing here that kept them away from… any personal liabilities.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You consider the work of senior nobles to be less important than the frontline work of real servants, such as yourself?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“What is this really about?” responds an exasperated De Havilland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Sorry Marquis?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“We’ve been sat here for a good while now and it’s pretty clear to me that you have poured scorn over the principles of my official statement and in general you seem to have been more interested in my general socio-political views than the facts of this case. Given the years that has passed since this event took place you would have had plenty of time to accrue facts from any other sources of interest. I don’t think you are really trying to assess the facts from my point of view here at all. Actually, from where I am sitting, you just appear to be trying your best to provoke me. You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland trailed off. The room was silent whilst his mind whirred into motion.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron was making notes and looked up expectantly having noticed the pause.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I’m sorry Marquis, you were saying?” he queried.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland looked at the Baron making his notes. ‘What on earth was he making notes on?’ he wondered. ‘We weren’t actively discussing the case at that moment. It was as if the Baron was more interested in his general response than the details within it. But why would he want to be doing that?’ Something just did not add up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Marquis, you were saying?” repeated the Baron.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You aren’t interested in this case at all are you?” said a calm voice of realization. De Havilland laughed briefly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You aren’t here to question me on this case are you? You are assessing me. Why?!”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I really have no idea what you are talking about” replied the Baron. He placed his quill down and pushed himself back into his chair.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“The purpose of this panel is to ascertain the facts concerning the betrayal of Tonbei vo Khaan and whether he ‘under your direct instruction’ committed attempted murder or not. Need I remind you Marquis that if you are found guilty of orchestrating attempted murder the consequences would be most profound.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Liar...” the words fell from De Havilland’s lips, but he didn’t know where they had come from or who had said them. The voice was certainly his though.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I beg your pardon!” spat the Baron, clearly irritated by the response.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland leaned forwards to the edge of his desk, “That is a lie” he follows in a softened voice.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron fixed a wily gaze on De Havilland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“As a sponsor for Tonbei you have an official obligation in any capacity for his actions…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“No...“ De Havilland cuts him off.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron looks more even irritated and started to look a little red in the face.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Do not question the authority of this court” he rages.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I don’t, in fact I am relying upon it” responds De Havilland curtly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You’re babbling man, explain yourself!”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I am not Tonbei’s sponsor” he answered simply.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Impossible!” retorted the Baron, “Every Cohort has an official sponsor and it is always their allotted Phoenix Knight.” The Baron starts to flick through pages of documents and eventually finds the page he was looking for.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, here!” he finds and stabs at a section of writing on a document before him and starts reading from it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I Anton Hawkwood, Marquis De Havilland hereby swear that I hold the character of Tonbei vo Khaan to be of sufficient standing to allow him to serve in the assigned position of Imperial Cohort…. And so on and so on and so forth, signed Anton Hawkwood.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Yes” replies De Havilland calmly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“It’s here in black and white!” exhorts the Baron.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“That…is a character reference” replied De Havilland, “I was not actually permitted to sponsor Tonbei.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The room falls quiet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron looks at the documents again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I made the application, but I was turned down on the basis that Tonbei was not of suitable candidate material. When I protested it was suggested to me privately that perhaps an Ur-Oban was not a suitable field agent nor desirable face for the Phoenix Empire. However, contradictory to that view there was also at that time a push to sell the concept of Phoenix Knights to the general populace. The Town Crier ran a sensational story about how an Ur-Oban was making his Imperial Cohort application; the first non-human to do so. The story sold very well with a readership who lapped up the notion that under the emperor the common man now had more opportunities in life. The next I had heard, Tonbei’s application had been re-submitted and rather miraculously had been accepted…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron picked up his documentation and quickly began reading through it again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Your original request was indeed refused…A subsequent request was then sent through to this office from…[reads to himself] and then there is a note here to this office… with a final application signed and sponsored by……………………”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“…one Baron Eviathan Hawkwood in his capacity as a leading representative at the office of The Company of the Phoenix. An official stamp of approval from the office itself was a ringing endorsement, as good as anyone could have hoped for.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron looks down at the words in front of him and then back at De Havilland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I see...”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was no sense of triumphalism about this moment at all. The room was surprisingly still. Oddly so. The tension that had been building in the room suddenly dissipated. De Havilland had expected the Baron to be annoyed given how much emphasis he had wanted to make of Tonbei’s sponsor but now, it just didn’t seem to matter to him at all. Things were very strange indeed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“This session will now briefly adjourn. The court will be emptied and I will remain present with The Marquis” announced The Baron.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The others all left silently; Ciera gave De Havilland a curt nod.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once they had left The Baron grabbed a decanter of water and some glasses and left his table to sit opposite De Havilland. He placed both glasses down, took a flask from inside his jacket pocket, tipped out a small measure of a thick green substance into both glasses and then topped them up with plenty of water. He pulled a small clear stick from another pocket, stirred both glasses with it and then picked up one glass and lifted it slightly next to the one opposite De Havilland. The Marquis reached out tentatively, lifted his glass and gently tapped the Baron’s glass with his own. Both men took a good sip of the strange concoction. The Baron let out a deep breath and allowed himself to rest back into his chair. He tipped his head back across the top of the chair, as if granting permission for any weariness he felt to leave him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland just kept watching him. He really wasn’t sure if this was all part of some kind of elaborate rouse. He just had this sense that all the tension in the room that he had felt building up had left, but without any lasting sense of legacy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron broke the silence first, his eyes were now closed, and his head was still tilted back. “Do you know, I can picture perfectly the face of every young knight we have dispatched to do the Emperors bidding from this place Some of them looked bloody terrified at the prospect of being sent out into the Known Worlds. I can remember looking over to you and your cohort during the final evaluation stages. You both looked like you were so full of confidence. I was worried for you, I’ll be honest. I had no idea what sort of…prejudices… you might have to deal with during your service. It’s not like we need any extra complications in our line of duty, now is it? It just looked right to me though, for us to be sending you both out together like that. I’m…I’m not just saying it was just the right message…it felt goodly…righteous even. But blast that Ur-Oban if he didn’t blow a bloody great hole right through all that good work. The shitpile that I received concerning his betrayal from the Hawkwoods…well…you can just imagine it can’t you? We’ve had all manner to polite courtier’s queueing up outside Baron Eviathan’s office door to make appeals for him to ‘intervene’ directly. Slimy little bastards.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But, despite everything. I still think it was right. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">I know some might not like me to say it, but the Empire is just too big and too damn full of nightmares for us not to be standing together. We can’t face every threat alone. I’ve seen too many battles fought over the years to think the future of mankind rests solely in the hands of a few very well-meaning nobles.” The Baron took a deep breath and tilted his head forward and opened his eyes to De Havilland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Recently, we’ve started seeing a rot enter the order. I don’t mean anything obviously orchestrated, just a general weakening of the values and principles that it began with. We started seeing knights coming back from long trips to new worlds with strange ideas about how the empire should be run, where it should prevail…and even…who should be running it?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland gave the Baron a curious look.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron nodded, “Yes, all sorts of ‘well-meaning’ ideas. In most cases it’s pretty simple to understand. Knights have been sent to the backend of nowhere and tasked with making our empire work there. To accomplish that task they integrate themselves fully with the local peoples, try to figure out how they all think, how they function. The problem is, this process causes the knights ideals to soften, just a little. They consider how they can deliver a vision of our empire to an existing and functioning society…without ever breaking it. Without re-making it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The problem is, you can’t.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Baron takes another swig of the green drink and smacks his lips together. He examines the glass carefully.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“We had to be sure about you Anton. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth of it. We had to see how you would respond under pressure. We need to know whether knights are still working for us, or…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Whether they work for someone else…” finishes De Havilland, tipping his own glass back and taking a gulp.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Right enough” replied The Baron.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The room sits perfectly still whilst both men eye each other carefully.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“So…how many fail the test then?” questions De Havilland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“It’s worrying the Emperor” came the honest reply, “Too few of the longer-serving knights retain a proper sense of perspective.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“And what about me?” comes the obvious question from the Marquis.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Well I don’t think you have sold us out just yet, but, I don’t think it would do you any harm to know that we are watching, and why.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland finished his drink, “I’ll keep it in mind” he answered </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> “And what about the panel, what is their decision regarding my culpability concerning Tonbei?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Acquitted of all direct responsibility for the assassination attempt on Baron Christopher Hawkwood” answered De Havilland. He sat himself down in a large comfortable chair opposite Ylanath and placed his arms on the armrests.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Just…like that?” she asked.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Just like that” came his response.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ylanath shakes her head in disbelief, “It just sounds all very strange to me. You made it seem like this could be the end of the universe.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Well, it could have been. They could have sent me packing from the order, back home to serve my remaining days fighting in my brother’s army against my sister. But, thankfully they chose not to…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“They could have done that?” she queries, “you didn’t tell me of this!”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I...didn’t want to worry you unduly” came an abrupt answer.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You are unbelievable” comes back an annoyed response.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Probably why you love me so much” retorts a smiling De Havilland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Ha” smiles Ylanath sarcastically. “You don’t deserve me. I should leave you to marry one of those boring Hawkwood ladies of the court”, Ylanath pranced around the room pretending to walk like an elegant lady twirling a parasol.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De Havilland laughs for a moment and then his face starts to turn serious again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ylanath notices, stops playing for a moment and then comes over and sits across De Havilland’s lap. She puts one arm round him and the other on his face.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“What is it, what is wrong?” she asks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“My order”, he replies, “I think it could be in trouble.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She runs a finger across De Havillands furrowed brow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Is there something you can do about that?” she asks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“I don’t know” came the honest reply.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">After a few moments Ylanath smiles at De Havilland playfully, </div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Did I forget to tell you how much I loved your dashing new haircut” she jokes, “Very handsome…”</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“You…” mocks De Havilland, sitting forward suddenly to embrace Ylanath “are a total disgrace”.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-80203804149279910812020-06-29T09:27:00.002+01:002020-06-29T09:38:21.164+01:00Session forty-six<div style="text-align: justify;">Having finally arrived on Byzantium Secundus the cadre find accommodation in the Imperial City and meet up with "Pandemonium Max" a Muster Guilder who fought with De Havilland during the Emperor War and has been called in by the Marquis to offer some support. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">While Anton goes to appear before the Phoenix Order the rest of the group head to the planetary agora to try to locate Corteaz's missing investor. After making enquiries they locate the office of Constance of San Tandere. She initially welcomes them but as soon as they mention that they represent Corteaz she tries to run for it, attempting to escape out of the office window. Hemlock and Max manage to catch and restrain her and convinced her to explain her actions. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">She narrates how she is just an agent and that her investor stopped sending funds and communicating with her. Before she was concerned enough to chase them up she was approached by representatives of the Scravers Guild who warned her
off and threatened violence if she either contacted the Investor or Corteaz. She is now afraid that if she was seen with known agents of Corteaz's then "they" would try to kill her. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Unfortunately, due to the time it took the group to find her (i.e. failed skill rolls), "they" have got wind that the cadre are paying Constance a visit. On cue, three armed Muster "rent-a-thugs" arrive at the office to teach them all a lesson. The PCs pointed out how outclassed they were and intimidated them until they backed off and left, Hemlock sneaking after them. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Meanwhile, Mal and Max stayed with Constance and negotiated that, if the Cadre could get her to Cumulus space station, once there she would reveal details of who the actual financial backer was and how to contact them. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hemlock tracked the goons to the local Scraver guild house, where they meet with Master Alfredo Garcia (Hemlock's Father's deceased seneschal), apparently now alive and well. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When Hemlock reunites with Mal and Max they ask Constance about Alfredo Garcia but she doesn't recognise the name however, when described to her, she says that he sounds like the Scraver "Boss" who came to threaten her. <br />They then board the monorail, heading for the comparative safety of the capital.</div>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-53123453781453598142020-06-26T11:00:00.001+01:002020-06-26T11:00:22.451+01:00Interlude - The Leminkainen Encounter<div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Between sessions forty-five and forty-six we decided to help the plot move along by running the intervening scenes via text chat. This is a transcript of what transpired:</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div>With a noiseless thump that reverberates through the ship's hull, the Innocent Pursuit is thrown from Jump Gate into the real space of the Leminkainen system.</div><div>The Charioteer who opened the gate for you, Captain Moseley, hails you;</div><div>"I got you safely through my Lords, as promised. Now for my payment I believe?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: Keats, I expect you will know the level of information that a Charioteer will need to establish contact with a new contact...We should honour the commitment made and then set about organising passage for ourselves from here to the capital. As discussed we should seek to make as little contact with other parties as possible. I have the distinct concern that our trip is being monitored.</div><div><b>Hemlock:</b> "Acknowledged."</div><div>To the radio, "Captain, you may have heard of Captain Cortez. We have the pleasure of working with him. [provides contact details] May you mutually profit."</div><div>To others on the bridge, "Anton, is it Cortez's adversaries that worry you, or something more personal?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Its a good question. Our distraction with our business leads us to pass through Ravenna where I discover Hassimir leaves in unusual circumstances, just at the time a WMD is triggered. Perhaps I am being unnecessarily worried about this trip. I just have the nagging feeling someone is pulling strings here. All the more worrying that I find myself wandering into the nest of vipers that awaits us in our capital."</div><div><b>GM </b>- On one of the bridge stations a notification chord strikes indicating that another ship or space station is hailing you.</div><div>(Captain Moseley thanks you avariciously for Corteaz details and the accompanying letter of recommendation he had you draft and signs off)</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "I wish I knew of friends on Byzantium Secundus but unfortunately I do not have any support there other than those who would willingly wish to support any Phoenix Knight. Before we get there we should give thought to every word or deed we undertake. We should not underestimate the influence of politics in our capital. Others make seek to make use of us. "</div><div>But first, we have one more jump to negotiate</div><div><b>Hemlock:</b> "You think events on Ravenna are linked to Byzantium Secundus? Ah, excuse me Anton," Hemlock opens the hailing channel, "This is the Innocent Persuit."</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "I just see a number of coincidences here. Coincidence is either the direct hand of the Pancreator or something more sinister"</div><div>"Keats, when we get to the capital are you Keats or is Hemlock attending to his business?"</div><div>"Someone representing the business venture should take a lead with the banks. It might be Hemlock who has to do that..."</div><div><b>Hemlock:</b> "I believe Mal has had a much greater hand in the business. But I feel no need to hide as Keats: it does me honour to be in your entourage."</div><div>Anton De Havilland: "Then we will be in the hands of Mal. I should perhaps now remind us of the other business I was tasked with in our capital. Accounting for the betrayal of Tonbei. It is entirely possible that there could be fallout from that. My future on this point is not clear."</div><div><b>GM </b>- The cockpit squwaker device crackles into life</div><div>"This is Lady Guinevere Hawkwood, Captain of the Saint Astrid's Blade, you have entered House Hawkwood space and are a vessel of indeterminate origin and purpose. Stop engines and prepare to be boarded."</div><div><b>Mal:</b> "oh shit"</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: To Mal, "Do you think they'll have heard of you this far out?"</div><div>"Could you pretend to be someone else? We could have any crew or passengers, after all."</div><div><b>Mal: </b> "that is what I was going to recommend" at which point, Mal proceeds to stow away any house sigils he carries and rough himself up a bit.</div><div>"Jonas Smithe, resident yeoman ship hand, at your service. Call me Jon"</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: "Understood... Jon."</div><div>To radio, "Confirmed Captain. Cutting engines. We look forward to welcoming your party."</div><div><b>GM</b> - The ship shudders as a pair of grapples from the Hawkood vessel latch on. On the Innocent Pursuit's viewports and screens Lady Guinevere's Galliot slowly grows in size as the winches wind in the massive cables, drawing the ships into an intimate embrace. Moments linger as the sleek, arrowhead shaped 'Pursuit is overshadowed by the sillouette of the Hawkwood ship. </div><div>Boarding a ship takes time, given the benefit of not being in the midst of combat, there are many steps to take to ensure the safety of those involved. Mal makes good use of the time to try to create a new cover identity and hide reference to his true name. But when trying to perform nefarious deeds there is never quite time enough...</div><div>Sensors read that a boarding party of about a half dozen individuals are making their way across the void between the two ships. </div><div>In hardly any time they are at the main airlock at the front of the Myrkwym. The ship echos with the thumping of a fist on the airlock and a local squwarker burst announces "This is Lady Guinevere Hawkwood of the Royal House Hawkwood, Captain of the Saint Astrid's Blade, Galliot of the Hawkwood space naval fleet with authority to visit, board and search star vessels entering Hawkwood space, and with powers of seizure and detention of items or persons of illegal nature. You are to permit the full execution of our duties without delay or impediment and submit to myself and my officers and our commands. You will be released to continue upon your voyage as and when I am satisfied. Open your airlock and permit our embarcation."</div><div><b>Hemlock:</b> Aware of his limited experience in handling a starship, Hemlock goes through the safety protocols methodically, with the accompanying radio chatter: "Aye, grapples secure this end, confirmed," and so on. Similar with the safety-critical airlock operation. Will their party come directly into the bridge, or are they coming via the cargo hold?</div><div><b>GM -</b> (@Hemlock the main airlock access is directly onto the bridge.)</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: In that case, Hemlock greets then standing by the pilot's chair. He's put on his big purple cloak for the occasion.</div><div>"Welcome aboard ma'am. I, Hemlock Justinian, have the honour of presenting you to our Captain, the Marquis de Havilland Hawkwood."</div><div><b>GM</b> - The figure before you reaches up and releases the latches on the helmet of their Vacuum suit. Lifting their headgear they reveal a stern faced but not unattractive woman in her late twenties-early thirties. She has a fair, almost palid, complexion, and sandy hair captured tightly behind her head in a pair of complex braids. Her appearance brings to mind the Valkyries of ancient Urth myth. </div><div>Behind her are four other similarly vacuum suited individuals. All bear the sigil of House Hawkwood and are obviously armed.</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Well...well..well if it isnt the Valkyrie of Tal-Umbra. I haven't seen you since the last push on Byzantium. Last I saw of you, you were leading a group of reservists to a enemy supply depot. That bloody awful "No-Chin Groper Gilchrist" sent you. We felt sure the place would be boibytrapped to hell. I heard he had tried to get too friendly and that you had given him the Hawkwood Hammer... How are you doing!"</div><div><b>GM </b>- "The Valkyrie" looks Anton up and down.</div><div>"Do I know you? Did you serve as one of the yeoman militia? You should be aware that if you are find guilty of a crime or misdeed I you will need to plea your previous good service before the court, not me."</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> De Havilland looks a little crestfallen, "We served together during the Emperor Wars. I was possibly going by the name Anton Hawkwood at the time. Since then I have had the pleasure to inherit a title as The Marquis De Havilland, Brither of Otto Hawkwood from Ravenna, a Phoenix Knight serving his royal excellency, our Imperial father The Emperor. Actually, (leans forward slightly to whisper) I am on my way to his Imperial majesty right now on an urgent errand"</div><div>GM - She pauses and squints slightly at the Marquis. Recollection starts to grow in her mind</div><div>"Anton? Is that really you? Dear fellow, I trust that you won't mind me saying that the years have not been kind. You look more like some wild-eyed, bearded barbarian than the starched and disciplined young officer I knew. I expected this craft to be crewed by a mob of heathen Vuldrok and at first glance you did not disappoint!"</div><div>She now looks across the rest of the assembled bridge crew. She meets Hemlock's eyes with a curt nod, glances over Tabby and then her eyes fall on Ylanath...</div><div>"But what is this? You openly bring a Barbarian into our space!?" You see her entourage place their hands to their weapons... "This seems far too convenient now...You pilot a Vuldrok vessel to Hawkwood space with a Rune Bitch aboard! Do you take me for a fool? Have you been co-opted to deliver her to our lands? Are you her willing confident and a traitor to your House and the Emperor you profess to serve or are you her prisoner? Is she reponsible for your haggard demenour and haunted stare? Speak man! We may be your chance for deliverance!"</div><div>Her hand moves to her sword hilt...</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> De Havilland pauses momentarily and drifts off for a mere few seconds. "Yes..., I remember that young wide-eyed officer. I was loyal to a fault then, and I still serve loyally today. You are right though, my ship and crew do need some explanation. I have been to Vuldrok space you see, Twilight originally but was then taken prisoner to Antioch. I have recently escaped in this vessel and am now heading back to Byzantium Secundus. I apologise for my appearance... the guests of the Paladindrax pay a heavy toll for their room and board.... and regarding our Vuldrok guests, well she is the reason why I was able to escape and am still able to serve today. But I understand your concern, my crew and I appear anything but honest travellers. Perhaps if you get to witness Vuldrok space in the service of our Emperor you will think more kindly on this old soldier"</div><div><b>GM</b> - "Twilight? Antyock? Paladindrats? What on Holy Terra are you talking about? Not one of those sounds like a real place, let alone one a Pancreator-fearing son of House Hawkwood should been seen!"</div><div>Anton De Havilland: De Havilland smiles to himself, " Ha... truly spoken. How quickly I forget the rest of the empire never hear of such places. And yet it is our Emperor's will that in the years to come such places are as familiar to you as Leminkainen is today. And if my endeavours succeed and my errand to Byzantium proved faultless then perhaps one day I will see your ship pass to Twilight to do your duty in a strange place. But concerning the Vuldrok did I not hear that they have lived in settlements here in peace for years? For it is not well know that the Star Nation is not a single peoples but formed from many strands. Perhaps in the Known Worlds this is not so commonly known.</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "But I forget myself. These places might sound like fancy to you but they are real. I have the scars to prove that. Even now though our investment into jumproutes to these places is in a desperate state. My business takes me to the capital where we hope to continue to support the growing empire. This crew you see here have been through many an ordeal and we hope to make our way to the capital to manage our affairs. I did not choose a Vuldrok ship and to mark it with colours in order to secretly navigate Imperial worlds. It is such a trophy from places you are yet to see where amazing things might be possible in the years to come. For though I suffered on Antioch, there was majesty there too and wondrous things that would create such a story. " Pulls a tiny knife from a back sheath " This small instrument is used to cut the fruit from the stone on Antioch. The flesh of that fruit, I have yet to taste any better". Reaches to a small silver box and opens it showing an orange yellow powder. "This spice they use in their cooking and I saw one woman rub it into a wound to heal". Such amazing things I have seen and we will all see one day I hope.</div><div><b>GM</b> - "These objects, these tales, this all reeks of heresy and apostasy to me... I fear that you have been corrupted by the influence of these Barbarian worlds, and females such as that." She nods her head toward Ylanath "Could it be that you have strayed too far, and for too long, from the glorious light of the Pancreator? Who is your confessor? What say they about your fruit knives and boxes of dust?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "Valiant questions." Pulls out his Imperial Seal. "And you would also say trinkets such as these can be prized from the hands of dead men too no doubt. " looks at it carefully as if mulling something over. "I do not blame you. You are just a knight doing your duty. I am the same. We do not send out lone Questing Knights to conquer worlds single-handed. They are charged with opening up lost routes, to discover new things. Sometimes new things are for the New World and sometimes they are for the Old World too, such as concerning Jumpgates. I can see you doubt my word here. You will know a Hawkwood can be prideful. I have given you my testimony truthfully, and more than I would have given any other inspection party. Consider yourself fortunate. I presumed you had wits to discern truth from false. Were you not also gifted this responsibility because you above your comrades were gifted with a mind to determine fact from lies or have I missed the mark? Does our family now trust not their own soldiers to make their own decisions. Perhaps seeing a brightly decorated Vuldrok ship confuses you, or the fact that a Phoenix Knight, a man you recognise, in part, create such fear and alarm to 6 well armed warriors that you feel intimidated.</div><div>Have i mistakenly assumed your authority here, perhaps there is other who makes a decision when faced with a righteous man. Look at this grizzled face again and answer me this. Have I lied to you during our exchange? If yes, then I am at your mercy entirely. But if no, and your wrath is because you dislike the answer, then that is another tale of your own making. " Stands upright like the soldier he once was, " I am Anton Marquis De Havilland Hawkwood, Phoenix Knight This is my ship, seized in foreign lands and now returning to our capital in order that our mission to open jumproutes to the planets of Twilight and Antioch continue as instructed by my Emperor, his direct orders to me. Now, Valkyrie, protector of the planet of Leminkainen make your judgement. Am I false? If you seize me and my crew I would like my holding cell to be near to your office, within earshot for when the full impact of your mistake can be heard. Make....your...judgement protector. Am I false. Yea, or nea?"</div><div><b>GM</b> - The atmosphere on the bridge shifts immediately the moment Anton takes out his Imperial Seal. The Lady fixes her eyes on it and seems unable to remove them throughout the Marquis' eloquent speech. Her face seems to flicker through mixed and conflicting emotions; Hemlock sees what could be awe, frustration and perhaps even jealousy. </div><div>Anton has played his hand and she cannot trump him. Not yet, in any case. A good soldier, a good Commander, knows when to retreat, when to consolidate and, if and when, to retaliate.</div><div>"My Lord.." she bows her head slightly. Her tone has returned to it's original cold formality. All hint of familiarity and wartime camaraderie has been curbed. "I trust that you will forgive me my...previous enthusiasm." </div><div>She meets Anton's gaze once more "But I also trust that you and your...people...will not impede us in the conduct of the rest of our duties. While I cannot, nor would not, unduely impede the journey of a dutiful servant of the Emperor and cannot legally tax your passage, I still have a duty to my House to search your vessel. I am sure I need not remind you that you can be held accountable, even if only by your own Order's Court, for any contraband or illegal activity we discover."</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "Aye, you speak honestly. I would never hold a dutiful knight up in their charge. Set your men to the task" Once the Hawkwoods are not seeing his face, MDH gives Ylanath and Mal and thoughtful look...</div><div><b>GM</b> - "Jon" enters the bridge, mop and bucket in hand. He raises his eyes just enough to meet Anton's thoughtful glance and nods a brief "'scuse me sir." to Hemlock</div><div>Lady Guinevere's crew gets to work, two of them pushing past "Jon" to search deeper into the bowels of the ship. They don't give the yeoman a second glance. The Hawkwood captain glances after them and looks back to Anton. Then suddenly snaps back with a double take "MAL?!!?"</div><div><b>Mal</b>: In a deep and broken voice:</div><div>"no, ma'am, name is Jonas Smithe, ma'am"</div><div>*begins rigorously scrubbing floor</div><div><b>GM</b> - Her voice rising and breaking with emotion "Don't you dare try to evade me Malcolm! You owe me that much at least! I should have known our paths would cross again one day but I never expected it to be like this..."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: With the fake voice slowly become more stereotypically Almalik:</div><div>"No, I'm just Jonas "Jon" Smithe the Yeoman...."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: *mal begins slowly shuffling away</div><div><b>GM</b> - "Will you really force my hand like this?" A tear appears in the corner of her eye. The Valkyrie waivers. She points at "Jon". "Seize him."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "fine fine, you got me"</div><div>grumble grumble</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "what's the charge this time? Last time I checked, I've not done anything in your derestriction"</div><div><b>GM </b>- "Really? You think my first concern is the crimes you have committed against our House? After all these years, after everything I went through with you, and because of you, you think that I am just going to slap you in irons and be done with it? Mal! Do you truly think me so callous? So unreasonable? So...much like you?"</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "well, until recently i thought everyone was like me. And hey, if i can try and become a better person, who knows what anyone else is capable of. Even Anton is slowly becoming more like me"</div><div><b>GM</b> - Lady Guinevere darts a look at Anton, then back at Mal.</div><div>"I suppose you have tricked the Emperor into swearing you into his company of errant knights too, have you?"</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "no, not yet... But now you mention it, that's not a bad idea... :thinking:"</div><div>Anton De Havilland: Lady Guinevere, can I assume you know our deckhand? How is it that you went through an ordeal at his expense? Please explain to us what is occurring here?</div><div><b>GM</b> - Her gaze is still transfixed on "Jon" </div><div>"As he obviously has not been completely honest with your Lordship, I think it better if Sir Malcolm Hawkwood, Knight of our Royal House, were to explain. I am sure that the crew who have obviously and, I fear to say, ignorantly, taken you under their wing deserve to hear how we are "acquainted", don't you, Mal? "</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: "I fear the fault is mine. On understanding that some of Sir Mal's family think ill of him, I recommended that he don a less conspicuous guise. I have known him always as a stalwart companion, and I would not wish my poor advice to cause him further trouble."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "Well you see, quite awhile before any of the other stories I might have told you, before becoming the 'black sheep' I am today, me and Guinevere where kind of... that is to say we... courted each other. Well, I did most of the courting, since I was training to take my father's place in the courts some day at the time (2 drums and a cymbal). It was great fun... but at the time, the rash young man I was becoming, that's all I ever thought it was. After I finished studying, I went off to Ravenna, it was nearby on a planetary scale relatively speaking. " </div><div>Turning to look Guinevere in the eyes, "I left you a lovely heartfelt note, and a pretty good portrait. I'd been drawing that for months... I told you I'd come back, I just got caught up. My 1 year trip turned into 2, and then I fell in with the wrong crowd and got kind of stuck there. That's why I'm here, now, to try and get stuff back to how the could have been, how they should have been. For what it's worth, finding you was top of my list. I wouldn't have dreamt of going back to my father before I'd patched everything up with you. And look, as soon as I can smooth things over, I'd wanna make things right between us. After all, my intentions were for me to encounter you again after having sorted out my record..."</div><div><b>GM</b> - Guinevere meets and holds Mal's gaze. Her troops pause, awaiting a fresh or revised orders. One has already grabbed Mal by the arm. Still staring at him her shoulders seem to drop slightly.</div><div>"You really expect me to believe that? To accept that you intended to return? That I was on your schedule of loose ends and unfinished business? You flatter me. If I for a single second believed it...well, duels have been fought for less of an insult."</div><div>There is a weariness and frustration in her voice, as if speaking to a child who has spilt milk over the nursery floor and sits in it playing, not realising what a mess they have made.</div><div>"Do you even know what you left in your wake? How your disgrace affected your family? Your actions broke your father, he is a shadow of his former granduer and his lands, such as remain, lie in ruin. But you know what upset him the most? He could explain your misdemenaours, your crimes and actions; which young knight hasn't had a time of excess and adventure? While many would say that you took things beyond that which was excusable he would always seek to defend you publically, no matter how tenuous or damaging to his own honour and standing. What wounded him to the core, what broke him was the news of your excommunication. The fact that the Pancreator's grace had been withdrawn from you, that you were, that you are a souless creature, damned for all eternity...that tore that great man to shreads."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "Are you calling me a liar?!"</div><div>Shaking his arm free of the troops grip as best he can.</div><div>"You're right, duels have been fought for less. If you think me a liar, I will duel to defend my honour. I may be the black sheep, I may be excommunicated, but hawkwood blood still flows through these veins!"</div><div><b>GM</b> - "Calm down Malcolm, You are a liar. A known liar by reputation and action. Why do you think your family treat you as such? I will not dishonour you further by beating you in a duel that holds no offence as it's foundation."</div><div>"You say that you have changed, Mal? That you are no longer that man and your Justinian associate speaks up for you on that basis. But you aren't the only one who has changed over these years."</div><div>"Perhaps I should thank you? You left me in a situation where I was also cast out. If even "Black Mal" had cast me aside what value was I to any other suitor? My reputation was as tarnished as your own. But I swore to overcome it - I plunged into my duties and obligations to our House as never before."</div><div>"Anton has seen me on the battlefield, he can bear witness to the fury I would unleash upon our enemies before you deserted me, that is as to nothing compared to how I learned to conduct myself in my quest to regain the good favour of my House. Duty has become all to me. "</div><div>"If I leave you aboard this vessel what would you have me tell your Father? Or your child?"</div><div>Anton De Havilland: "Child! The rabbit hole goes further than the arm can reach!"</div><div><b>Mal</b>: " Well, I intended on meeting with my father whilst on Byzantium Secondus, if he is still there and... wait what?!?"</div><div><b>GM</b> - "Yes Malcolm, three lines of second hand poetry and a sketch from your collection of generic female studies wasn't all you left me with.</div><div>But do not worry, I never kept your existence from them, they know exactly who and what you are and have shouldered that burden throughout their young life. "</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "Well i can't argue with the poetry thing, but that sketch was the genuine article. And believe, I'd pour every firebird I have into fixing what I've done if not for the fact that as it stands I'd be doing more harm than good. Look, if I can get to the right people, I can convince them that I've changed. I've got a cunning plan. What the worst that could happen? If i go talk to my father, then you don't have to. If my plan works, you get your honour back. And if it doesn't work, it doesn't impact you, since De Havilland has already 'apprehended me' and therefore it isn't your duty to take me in"</div><div><b>GM</b> - Steel returns to her eyes</div><div>"As always you aren't listening to me! I restored my honour! Me, and me alone! I bought it back with blood, sweat and tears and worked my way up from disgrace to the captaincy of a Galliot. That was all my labour, the fruits of my toil. Don't you dare to belittle that by implying that you will swoop in and become my long lost saviour. As for apprehending you, well that falls to the Marquis here." </div><div>She turns to Anton, anger still evident but currently reigned in by professionalism and years of habitual restraint.</div><div>"Your Lordship Marquis De Havilland Hawkwood, Knight of the Order of The Phoenix, is this man under your auspice and do you extend sanctuary to him until such time as he is brought to court or dealt with by your own discretion, with the powers extended by your liege Lord, House and Order, understanding that he is under sanction from the Holy Orthodox church, has had all sacrements and blessings withdrawn, that his soul is damned and excluded from the Luminous Glory and that such spiritual matters are excluded from the authority of powers temporal?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: De Havilland grabs a metal support running crossways above his head, and leans forward gently. The figure of De Havilland fills the small passageway between the cockpit and the body of the ship. The faces in the room watch him closely as the grizzled soldier thinks through his next words carefully.</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "I am sure that I can take Jon...Mal...into safeguarding until such times that he can account for his wrongdoings. I would like to know the full account of the crimes he has committed though so that I can deliver a full account of them if asked. The excommunication in particular is worth knowing more of since, as you state, we are in a Vuldrok ship with a foreigner aboard. Understanding the full accounting for our deckhand would seem wise now, rather than at a point when the truth of it is bearing down upon the whole crew."</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "In addition... if Mal has committed wrongs to your family... and to your...........child.......I would actively seek a means for him to account for that in such a way that your own pride in your own actions remains intact, but that this child should not be wronged in their own life and be forfeit in any regards because of circumstance. I would want to ensure that things there are put in good order, so that when all emotions have cooled that there is a sense that right has been restored. This seems righteous and just.</div><div>"If our Lady agrees to accept that Mal would seek to make some amends, if this be agreeable in principle then let me then hear the full fallout concerning the deeds and misdemeanor of our black sheep"</div><div><b>GM</b> - The Lady nods.</div><div>"I appreciate the gesture and I begin to see the measure of Your Lordship's character. You are more a son of House Hawkwood than your unconventional attire and company would have had me believe.</div><div>As for our child, they are well cared for, but I see them only infrequently. It has ever been the way that duty has drawn loyal servants away from their loved ones..."</div><div>She pauses, casts a swift dark glance at Mal and then continues</div><div>"While I know some of what Malcolm has been accused of I fera that the full extent was never revealed to me as I was placed under the same dark shadow and thought a co-conspiritor. Added to which I doubt that the crimes stopped after he fled my bedchamber. I propose that he gives us his own full account. I for one would be interested to hear it..."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "I guess it's time I tell the full story. You may wanna take a seat as this may take awhile."</div><div>Mal proceeds to perch on the nearest chair/table.</div><div>"My father wanted me well educated, so I could take his position in the family when the time came. As a result I spent all my tutelage in the courts. For a time I was a decent duellist as well. Eventually it became appropriate for me to begin courting, and at the time the status I was to inherit made attracting ladies fairly easy. That's why I began courting Guinevere. She was the only one not to flock to dashing looks and sharp wit. After my time in the courts was finished, I decided to travel a little. See the known worlds beyond Byzantium Secundus. Ravenna seemed like a sensible place. I'd heard it was nice, had good vineyards. On a planetary scale it wasn't that far off as I said before. So, with the promise to return in a year after having my fun, take my duties to my lady and house seriously, I left.</div><div>I arrived on Ravenna and quickly took to the local courts. Having found out where my closest cousins on the planet were, I'd arranged to stay with them for a little while, at least to start with. I didn't take part in the local politics. I spent most of my time drinking and learning more about my expanded family. It was like one big bachelor party... but with it came the worlds biggest and longest hangover. One night, in the pub, when visiting Deep Core 104 about 5 or 6 months in, I met this... guy. He bought me a few drinks, told me I had a "special gift". He knew I had it, because he had it too. I mean, I'd always suspected something, hearing all these stories about psychic stigmas, never wanted to believe that my..." Mal gestures to his chest "... was one such stigma, but something had always seemed off so I thought 'what the hell, I'll humour him'. He told me where and when to meet him, and I complied."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "He introduced me to his coven, what I later learned was the invisible path, and they told me they could teach me to do 'great things' and that it was 'my calling from the universe' and the egotist I am, I lapped it up. They showed me what I could do, taught me how to use my 'gift' and then I realised I'd been on Ravenna almost 2 years. By this point, I later found out, rumours of me abandoning my family started. I decided I'd leave, come back to Byzantium Secundus. But then they told me 'the truth'. They sat me down and fed me lies of how the church was manipulating to repress psychics. How it was up to people like me, who could detect psychics, to defend them. How I was suited for 'the coming conflict' where my ability to deflect psychic abilities would be invaluable to them. They convinced me I was needed there. So I penned a letter. Nothing to specific, but to inform my family I had 'found a needing cause' with specific instruction to relay the information to Guinevere and so they knew I'd be back in a year or so at most... If only it had been that simple. See, the Invisible Path liked my status. I helped them sneak some people into places, sneak people out. There were quite a few nobles there and we all helped shepherd their members around. I grew to like a life in the shadows. It gave me a great adrenaline rush and I could still keep up the drinking and parties. But then... then they abducted a priest... He was an Orthodox priest called father Lewellen. They branded him, beat him, flayed him. And then they handed me a knife." Flicking his wrist, Mal's knife falls out of his sleeve. "I knew what I had to do and I knew I didn't want to do it. But I still did it. As I looked at him, the pleading in his eyes... he wanted me to end it, and a part of me didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But for the sake of both of us I knew I had to. They left his body out so it would be found, not to lead it back to us, just to scare the church a bit."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "Let them know they were there. We weren't Invisible anymore. I learnt the gravity of my situation and actions that night. How many penitent psychers who wouldn't join us and how many non-psychers that 'looked at a member funny' had been killed. And how many of those deaths I'd help facilitate. </div><div>That night, for the first night in 3 years since coming to Ravenna, I prayed. I prayed for forgiveness. Not for just for what I did, but for what I was going to do. I did everything I could to climb their ranks. They may have not agreed with the church, but killing, killing a defenceless priest, that wasn't what I'd signed up to. You can't just walk away from these people, so I'd take them down from the inside. I couldn't focus on my house or family, this is all that mattered, this was all that had to matter. The higher the rank, the more important the tasks I was given. I wasn't able to save many, but where I could I helped prisoners or would be victims escape. Thanks to them, my name stayed out the radar for quite some time. Every accusation had enough members on the defence to back down. I kept up my persona as a drinker and gambler, adopting this black sheep identity, so that my blatant disregard for my house was within character. The Invisible path just thought I was doing a good job selling my story. I had no idea the apparent effect this had at home.</div><div>Unfortunately however, after being in the Invisible path for 6 years (6 and a half years on Ravenna), I learnt two horrific details. The alarm bell that made the hangover worse ten times over. Number 1: This had just been 1 cell. Sure, I was highly ranked within the Invisible Path on Ravenna, but off world? Off world the identity and location of any other cells was unknown to me. My great plan, what I'd thrown my life and, as I've now learnt, the lives of my family away for, would be nothing more than a footnote in the story of the Invisible Path."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "Number 2: I learnt quite unfortunately that a member of my cell had done a better job than me, and had been conspiring with the church.</div><div>Many coven members died, others were arrested. I was locked up in a church prison for psychic. Knowledge that I was of notable standing was all that was needed, combined with their spies testimony, for the church to excommunicate me. Of course, the specifics were not knowledge to everyone, but who needs specifics in this sort of situation. I must have spent about a year in that prison, everyday thinking about Father Lewellen. I pleaded for the church to get a penitent psycher to scan my mind, see the truth to my story, but when you a suspected murderer that murmurs the name of your first victim, people think you're a crazy psychopath. I managed to escape, barter my way back to the deep cores and seek sanctuary with family members. I conned some cash and resources, before bumping into De Haviland and Hemlock here as well as another psychic called sir Hasamir Torrenson. I set about trying to find any other escapees, thinking I could at least clean up Ravenna since leaving the planet wouldn't be feasible. Then I had an incident in a deep core... a conversation with a priest escalated and well... to say I'd never be convicted due to lack of evidence would be an understatement. I was haunted by Father Lewellen yet again, and deservedly so. But still wanted to round up any other coven members I could find, maybe hand them in and clear my name. Well I eventually got recognised and had to go on the run, ruining that plan, until I had the luck of being able to journey to Twilight, the lost world. I had sir Hasimir keep tabs on the one member of my coven I'd been able to locate, since he was a mutual friend, and I left again."</div><div>"Years later, here I am. Of course I skipped the part with alien and decados assassins, and psychic ghosts, but surprisingly none of that was my fault...</div><div>This sensible and serious side of me probably comes as quite a shock to you De Haviland after all these years, all those debts you owe me..."</div><div>"That's my story. I must have been away about 11 or 12 years now... Recounting this now, I can see why you see my actions as irredeemable, why you would think me to still be lying. And De Haviland... I need to stop hiding behind you, I've done so for two many years now.</div><div>I've lived the life of a noble, a pirate, a gambler, a drunk, a vigilante... of sorts... and a duellist. I've run a foul of every major faction at least once. I've had great friends and found love.</div><div>I guess what I'm saying is, for the first time, I've shown my hand. All my cards are on the table. No lies, not this time. It's not worth it anymore... If I'm reaching my end, then it was a jolly good run."</div><div>Mal turns to meet Guinevere's gaze.</div><div>"I just want you to know, I truly cared for you, and I wanted to come back, but even if I had it wouldn't have been safe, for either of us."</div><div><b>Mal</b>: Mal takes off his sheathes, holsters and weapons. Fiddling with the knife in his hand he hesitates, before putting it down where he's been perching and whispering to himself, "I'm sorry Father", before stepping towards Guinevere with his wrists held out towards her, ready to be shackled.</div><div>"If you grant me no other favours, grant me this one: Can I at least know their name?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: De Havilland exhaled a deep breath in shock and looks to Guinevere</div><div><b>GM</b> - Time seems frozen. Guinevere doesn't take her eyes from Mal. One of her guards shifts somewhat uneasily.</div><div><b>GM</b> - The Lady eventually breaks the impasse. Without taking her eyes from Mal she speaks;</div><div>"If your Lordship will grant us leave for a moment and a space within your vessel where we may have some privacy I believe there are some matters I need to discuss with Sir Malcolm. Would you please excuse us and direct us to a suitable location aboard?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland:</b> "Of course..." replies De Havilland. "Mal, why dont you go below deck to the storage bay. Plenty of space down there and we can seal the hatch for privacy?"</div><div><b>GM</b> - Guinevere lets Mal, still unbound, go first and follows him to the access hatch. As she passes one of her men she subvocalizes but none of the cadre catch what she says. After they have climbed down below deck, one of her guards closes the hatch and stands guard over it. Another Hawkwood marine stands guard at the bridge airlock and the other two turn to face the Marquis. Lifting the visor of their vacuum suit helm one asks</div><div>"Shall we continue with the search, your Lordship?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "By all means..." gestures De Havilland sweeping his arms open</div><div><b>GM</b> - The Marine nods and gestures to his companion. They start at the fore of the ship and work their way to the aft, opening every cupboard, compartment and container. They are thorough and comprehensive, having done this to hundreds of previous vessels.Ylanath looks furtively at Anton...</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "So I wonder what is going on downstairs? Just imagine having that kind of conversation with someone you haven't met for years. I couldnt even begin to fathom what else might be going on. Hey, here's a thought. Do you think it might be wise leaving a captain alone with a confessing psychic and murderer. I mean what if my captain went off for a confab with someone like that and something happened to them. I wouldn't want to be that soldier. I've met guys like that. I bet they send guys like that to back-world planets that have a high incident of Symbiot attack. Nasty little blighters those those symbiots. Can turn a soldier inside out in seconds. Nah, I wouldn't want that to happen. I'd probably insist on being present with my captain with my helmet plate up so I could see her and not hear anything...Yes sir... that would be the smart thing to be doing...".</div><div><b>GM</b> - The marine continues rummaging through an overheard storage locker.</div><div>"Indeed that is so your Lordship, I served a term alongside my lady on garrison duty on Stigmata and we fought those beasts side by side. I am unfortunately well aquainted with the horrors that they are capable of."</div><div>He stops his search and looks straight at Anton. As they lock eyes the Marquis can't help but catch a glimpse of a deadness behind them, a lingering footprint of the man's experiences in the field.</div><div>"But then again, your lordship, I am also well versed in the horrors that my Lady is capable of."</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: "Then I hope Mal survives his chat'</div><div><b>GM</b> - "I believe that outcome may rest with My Lady, and obviously the Pancreator's will. Perhaps a prayer might be suitable, your lordship?"</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland</b>: I would pray for his soul but the poor creature has been excommunicated, but it is good to have hope and faith that he may find the right path again. So you have served on Stigmata, I have heard terrible things from there. Without the good work you delivered their soldier, our empire would already be overrun. Personally I haven't had the pleasure of meeting that enemy face to face but we have enemies enough within the Known Worlds.</div><div>"So... tell me about your captain? She seems as tough as they come these days. Do you know of all the campaigns she has served in? Personally I liked her from the moment we first met. One of the men i was serving with got overly confident with her. She put him straight right there and then. No nonsense. Did her job well and worked damn hard at it too.'MDH will keep the soldier engaged in case Ylanath needs to do anything discreet. MDH had asked her not to bring anything incriminating to the known worlds and so if she is looking nervous then he will be concerned..."</div><div><b>GM</b> - The marine continues his work with polite, non-committal responses. De Havilland gets the impression that the memory of Stigmata may have brought on this laconic state.</div><div>Anton and Hemlock hadn't noticed that Ylanath had slipped away from the bridge until she reappears. Anton can't help but notice that she looks pale and seems to whince as she sits in one of the chairs on the bridge. He recalls her words to him back on Antioch; "...there is always a price to pay. Always there is a sacrifice..."</div><div><b>GM </b>- About two hours pass. The marines seem unpreturbed and just continue with their search. They occasionally ask questions about the nature of certain items, in a manner that could be described as "respectfully probing". They operate with the authority of their Captain but they show appropriate deference to the Marquis and a knight of House Justinian.</div><div>Finally the relative quiet of the ship is disturbed by the heavy metal clang of the cargo bay hatch opening. Lady Guieneve emerges.</div><div><b>GM</b> - She barks, "Sergeant-at-arms! Have you found anything that merits delaying the Marquis and his crew any further?"</div><div>"No, m'lady. There are items of a rare and valuable nature but nothing that presents an immediate danger to House Hawkwood, given the Privelage of Martyrs."</div><div>"Very well." She nods to Anton and extends her hand "Your Lordship, we will bid you safe passage and wish you the blessings of the Pancreator on your future journey."</div><div><b>Anton De Havilland: </b>The airlock doors groan and slam shut. A harsh crunching noise confirms that they are fully locked in place, followed soon after by a fierce and unrelenting hiss. The Marquis turns round to the solemn figure of Mal and takes a deep breath. "Right...well...sort yourself out and then meet the rest of us upstairs....when you are ready." The Marquis hesitates for a moment as if unsure of whether he should say or do something more to support his cousin but he isnt sure whether that would be right or not. He heads back to the access steps and briefly reaches out to remove the storage bay medkit from his holdings. Clamping the bag under his left arm he climbs to the upper decks.</div><div>Hemlock catches sight of The Marquis as he climbs up through the access hatch. They exchange a tentative look as the Marquis carefully steps through the cramped walkway tand approaches the cockpit. He throws the medkit into an empty seat and leans on the cockpit door. Hemlock looks a little confused for a moment but then remembers something importantand immediatelyasks "How is he ?"</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: De Havilland takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I have no idea."</div><div>"I wonder how old his child is," Hemlock frowns, "And what they have been told about him. Ought we leave him awhile?"</div><div>De Havilland pauses again and weighs up the options. He isn't sure. This event was beyond any he had expected from Mal. No knowing how he will react. "Maybe ... pay him a visit?" questions The Marquis.</div><div>Hemlock peers back at the bulkhead door, then throws his cloak off onto the pilot's seat and stalks out. In leaving, he sees the medkit get rolled out flat; De Havilland reaches out and pulls the cockpit door closed....</div><div>Ylanath meets Anton's gaze.</div><div>"You do not need that."</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: Hemlock finds Mal down in the cargo bay [let me know if that's wrong Harry]. He doesn't say anything, but curls up cross-legged on a nearby cargo crate and sits in silence.</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "well, that definitely could have gone worse..."</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: "Where is your family? Which planet?"</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "Well, when I last spoke to them, and from what Guinevere tells me, they are still on Leminkainen."</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: "Then, you could see your child." Hemlock looks searchingly at Mal, but he's never been good at reading people. "Are they healthy? Are they safe?"</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "I've been told, they're ok. Guinevere want's me to follow through with my promises before she'll let me see them though."</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: "Oh," Hemlock frowns, "I suppose that's understandable. So what do we need to do first to complete your promises?"</div><div><b>Mal</b>: "first, I need to atleast talk to my father. And at some point I'm going to have to patch things up with the church... Some how..."</div><div><b>Hemlock</b>: "The church?" he scowls. "I always thought excommunication a ridiculous concept. The thought that an omnipotent Pancreator, if they or it exists, would decide the fate of your soul because some old man in a robe declared it, seems preposterous. But if Guinevere wishes it, you need not face the church alone." Hemlock slides off the crate, and, before leaving, briefly lays a hand on Mal's shoulder. "I hear the church can be swayed by donations, if nothing else."</div></div>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-9613725561603080272020-06-22T17:03:00.003+01:002020-06-23T09:40:35.630+01:00Session forty-five<div style="text-align: justify;"><i>There was a lot of in character planning and discussion in this session so the below doesn't accurately reflect everything as it happened but it does provide the outcomes:</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The cadre enjoy the hospitality of Anton's manor for a further day as they review Hasimir's activities in their absence. Part of this involves a meeting with the elders of the village and Anton speaks with them at some length about what has been happening in and around Austrum in his absence.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Eventually they decide it is a time to continue on their journey and bid farewell to Bretoph and Maria. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Their next stop is the community of veterans and the St Lexitus Academy on Bredonia where Anton has some unfinished business (see the previous <a href="https://trialsofarcadia.blogspot.com/2020/04/bredonia.html">Bredonia</a> post for details of what transpires). After this Hemlock pilots the ship to the spaceport at the civic capital of Suryada. While there Hemlock and Mal negotiate with a Charioteer captain to allow them use of his jump key (by docking with his ship and "piggy backing" through the gate) to get to Leminkanen in exchange for a letter of referral and introduction to Corteaz and the route to Twilight. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-73530574526113197922020-06-09T17:45:00.001+01:002020-06-09T17:45:21.974+01:00Session forty-four<div style="text-align: justify;">Keats brings the Innocent Pursuit in to land on Ravenna. Anton notes that there is a lack of anti-air fire compared to the last time he flew over his home islands. However clouds of dust, smoke and particulate matter seem to cover his siblings' lands.<br /><br />
Keats surprises the rest of the group by dressing and carrying themselves as Sir Hemlock once again.<br /><br />
The cadre land near the village of Havilland and are soon met by a small group of local militia armed with spears. The Marquis engages them but they do not believe he is who he says he is. These are suspicious times; the local Regent (Sir Hasimir) has recently left in a hurry and De Havilland was mostly and absentee landlord.<br /><br />
Sirs Mal and Hemlock are able to talk the Militia down and the cadre eventually make their way to the Marquis' estate. Once there they meet with Anton's trusted steward and his wife, the house keeper. They are overcome with joy at the return of their master and do all they can to make them comfortable. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />The housekeeper makes up beds for the cadre and Anton and Ylanath share a bed chamber. Bretoph the steward mutters that he knew she was his "bit of fluff".</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
Hemlock returns to the ship to check on Tabby but the Ur Obun refuses to come to the house, claiming that the lack of invitation is typical of how their race is treated.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Cadre checked over the fief's ledgers and the records that Sir Hasimir had kept. The discover that while Hasimir left with a lot of
valuables, including at least one heirloom of family significance the records indicate that he did a good job of stewardship and saw the fief through a very trying time. Hemlock and De Havilland were left with the impression that Hasimir had done his best to protect the fief and it's people from the demands of war. Discussions with Bretoph also established that Hasimir left just after the viral weapons had been detonated.</div>
Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-62498470053597713432020-05-09T15:11:00.001+01:002020-05-09T15:14:22.729+01:00Session forty-three<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>After possibly too long a hiatus we have returned...with a view to providing a final chapter in the trials and tribulations of Dame Arcadia Justinian before the release of </i>Fading Suns: Pax Alexius<i> and we step into a new age...</i></div>
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<i>While we may fill in more details of what has happened since we last met our cadre over time or in future posts (and yes, I never did write up session forty-two) it's enough for now to say that just over four years have passed. It is mid-5008. Sir Hemlock (now just Keats) and the Marquis De Havilland had an accidental and lengthy excursion across Kurgan and Vuldrok space, visiting a series of lost worlds while trying to return to Twilight. They returned about six months ago and were reunited with Sir Mal Hawkwood and the Charioteer Corteaz. They bring with them a travelling companion in the form of a female Vuldrok warrior by the name of <span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">Ylanath and both have been changed by their experiences.<br /><br />In the meantime, while not operating independently, Corteaz' operation is turning a profit (both in direct trade and also fees relating to using the Jump Key, consultancy fees, commission for introductions to potential contacts on Twilight etc.). The Citadel is still a threat and travel to and from the Jump Gate and Twilight is dangerous, however ships don't travel alone and Corteaz' crew are becoming experts in the Abwehr fleet's tactics. Mal has been acting against type and has been every bit the noble, doing all he can to support the expedition in the absence of his cousin, De Havilland. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">As we begin the cadre have been summoned together by Corteaz. Keats and De Havilland have yet to travel far beyond the Ravenna side of the Twilight Jump Gate since their return but have been familiarizing themselves with the "mercantile expedition". In fact Keats has been making himself useful in whatever capacity Corteaz required.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">The Charioteer, to his credit, seems both relieved and overjoyed to have his old friend back with him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">It soon becomes apparent that not all is well with the flamboyant Corteaz. He narrates how his financial backer, banker and agent, a Reeve from Byzantium Secundus is no longer responding to messages and the flow of funds has stopped. While he can keep the operation going "cash in hand" for now he still owes his "backers" for both his ship (the San Paulus) and the Twilight gate key and the lack of communication concerns him greatly.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">He begs the cadre, knowing that they may be reluctant to return to the Known Worlds for their own reasons, to investigate what has happened. They all agree.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">During their journeys the Marquis "acquired" a Vuldrok explorer starship and they prep this for their journey. Keats will act as pilot while an Ur-Obun guilder of Corteaz' acquaintance will serve as the ship's engineer (and contribute some additional Think Machine skills to the group).</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">Ylanath and De Havilland discuss his return and whether she will accompany him. She seems to toy with him somewhat but there is obviously a deeper, if complex, relationship between them.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">The travel is relatively uneventful, they witness an skirmish with Citadel forces but the San Paulus, which is escorting them as an "honour guard" soon scares off the raiders. Keats has witnessed at first hand that that Corteaz' ship and crew now have a reputation amongst the enemy forces.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">Once through the gate the cadre fly to Ravenna orbit and dock with a geostationary station. They seek news from the planet below and are able to find out some of what has been happening in their absence.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">The most shocking piece of news is from the conflict on the Austram isles (the lands belonging to De Havilland's warring siblings). In recent days a Weapon of Mass Destruction (possibly an Atomic device) was discharged, seemingly by Count Otto's forces. This has sent a ripple of shock through out the local nobility and hostilities have fallen into an uneasy ceasefire. Tensions are high and the Amaltheans of Sanctuary Aeon, who were already a noticeable presence in the conflict, have been very vocal in their protests while also doing all they can to alleviate the suffering in the aftermath of the attack. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">When it was known that De Havilland had returned to Twilight he received news from Sir Hasimir (who was acting as his regent) about his fief and lands. Upon arrival at Ravenna he is sent a more recent epistle from his old House Torrenson ally. It appears that Hasimir has fled for a new assignment, taking his ship "The Endless Turn", and a significant amount of "gifts" from De Havilland's estate. The cadre wonder if this is in any way related to the WMD.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;">The cadre are left to debate whether they ought to set foot on Ravenna again or just head to Byzantium Secundus. </span><i><span data-sheets-formula-bar-text-style="font-size:13px;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;font-family:'Arial';font-style:italic;text-decoration-skip-ink:none;"><br /></span></i></div>
Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-60875125831187000202020-04-29T11:05:00.005+01:002020-04-29T11:05:46.117+01:00Interlude - Home FreeA recap for the reader.<br />
<br />
As a child, Hemlock Justinian lost his twin sister, Tigerlily, in an attack on their estates. Hemlock was hidden in an ore shuttle and escaped into space, where he was apprenticed to the Charioteers under the pseudonym of Keats. As an adult, Hemlock re-emerged to claim his birthright.<br />
<br />
Only, as we’re about to see, that’s not quite what happened.<br />
<br />
More recently, supporting the endeavours of an old friend (the Charioteer Cortez), Keats and Anton, the Marquis De Havilland, were taken prisoner and sent to Antioch. Two years passed. Anton escaped from the Palindrax’s prison, and found Keats, who it seems had suffered some sort of mental breakdown and was living as Tigerlily. Anton’s appearance rekindled Keats’ lost memories, and they escaped Antioch together.<br />
<br />
Now, in a stolen Vuldrok explorer, Anton and Keats have jumped through to the system they last saw their friends and communicated their return. It’s a week’s voyage, but Anton and Keats are, at last, home free.<br />
<br />
*****<br />
<br />
Keats un-hunches from over the pilot’s console, sits back in the chair and exhales. ‘Course set,’ he rubs his eyes. ‘If you’re going to keep this ship, you’re going to need a proper pilot.’<br />
<br />
Anton snorts, amused. The bridge is a dim, tight place: the screens show star-fields; most light comes from consoles and indicators. Sat in the captain’s chair with his wild-man beard, Anton looks every inch the pirate.<br />
<br />
‘I can keep an eye on things. Get some rest.’<br />
<br />
Keats nods, unfolds from the chair, but stops and perches on its arm. Warily, ‘Back on Antioch, how did you find me?’<br />
<br />
‘A magic lantern show I saw in prison. You were in the arena. They said your name was Tigerlily.’<br />
<br />
‘A magic lantern show featured me?’ Keats frowns, ‘her?’<br />
<br />
‘Arcadia called you that,’ Anton mentions, almost nonchalant.<br />
<br />
Keats nods. Grey overalls, head shaved. Androgynous. A tattoo down the side of his face proclaims – for those who understand it – that he fought for and won his freedom.<br />
<br />
‘I couldn’t let him be dead,’ it comes out quiet, plaintive. Keats looks up from the floor and stares at Anton, ‘All the time on Antioch, I thought I’d saved him. When you and I were captured things got jumbled in my head. I thought I’d got Hemlock to safety: that they never appeared from the dark and cut his throat, that they took me away instead. Things never seemed right, like there was something I had to do if only I could remember it. But Hemlock wasn’t dead: he was somewhere back among the known worlds, happy, alive. I think I was content.’<br />
<br />
‘Will he return?’<br />
<br />
Keats shrugs, looking lost, ‘Maybe it’s enough. Sir Hemlock has deeds to his name! He helped clear Arcadia’s name at the tournament of St Gavin, slew the enemy who framed her, fought an inquisitor, came out in society, hosted a Decados and was in a way betrayed, publicly duelled, made friends, madeenemies, at least one mortal,’ Keats’ eyes shine wetly, ‘He lives! Unless –’<br />
<br />
‘Don’t worry. I shan’t tell a soul. You have my word,’ which seems to calm Keats, ‘But what about Tigerlily?’<br />
<br />
‘She was lost. In the attack on the family estates.’ Keats hunches. For all the world, he sounds like he grieves for a loved one.<br />
<br />
‘Why?’<br />
<br />
‘One of us died. If Tigerlily were alive, then Hemlock must be dead,’ then, quietly, ‘I miss her.’<br />
<br />
Anton strokes his beard. It doesn’t put the beard in any better order. He thinks he follows, that this makes a sort of twisted sense. Maybe he should let Keats rest. But maybe, next time he asks, Keats won’t be so forthcoming or coherent. It seems cathartic.<br />
<br />
‘And what about Keats?’<br />
<br />
Keats looks up and quotes, ‘ “It would go easier on you, if you were a boy”.’ He laughs, a manic edge, and stops himself suddenly, ‘It’s what he said. The old retainer – Hobbs – who bundled me into the oreshuttle. The letter he gave me was the sort of thing you’d give a bastard: give this child a home and teach them a trade. It didn’t mention my name. So I chose to be a boy. And no-one cared enough to pry, or to make anything of it if they saw through it. And then I met Cortez, and was in his shadow. It was just common knowledge that Keats was a boy.’<br />
<br />
‘Did Cortez help?’<br />
<br />
‘He never knew!’ Keats bites his lip, ‘I never meant to lie to him! The longer it went on: I just couldn’tbring myself –’ he laughs again, that manic edge, and Anton wonders if he’s pushed too hard, ‘I think... I think, at the end, just before we were captured, when things got jumbled: I might’ve told him. I don’t remember too well.’<br />
<br />
‘Whatever happened, he’ll be pleased to see you alive.’<br />
<br />
‘I hope so.’<br />
<br />
‘And who will you be?’<br />
<br />
‘Keats. Just Keats, I think,’ looking up at Anton as if seeking permission, ‘For a while, at least. Being a noble is just so complicated.’<br />
<br />
Anton laughs. Keats doesn’t know the half of it. Keats is at the door when Anton calls, ‘You know, there’s a flaw in your logic.’<br />
<br />
Keats turns with a look of panic.<br />
<br />
‘Who knows that only one twin survived?’<br />
<br />
Keats shakes his head, ‘Everything burnt down.’<br />
<br />
‘Hemlock was just a child, and in all the smoke and darkness maybe his mistook what he saw. Maybe Tigerlily survived, and was sold as a slave, wound up on Antioch and won her freedom.’ While Hemlock stares, thunderstruck, Anton adds, ‘And anyone who contradicts the arithmetic, well, they know something about the attack, and you might want to have words with them.’<br />
<br />
Keats stands in the doorway as if at the edge of a precipice. Possibilities unspool in his mind.<br />
<br />
‘Keats. For now, just Keats.’<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-6881685750124812912020-04-20T13:04:00.001+01:002020-04-21T08:57:01.880+01:00BredoniaThe hole in the ground looked tiny to his eyes, but somehow the overriding sense of the depth of it upset him. It really just felt as though they were trying to hide her away or perhaps deny that she had ever truly existed at all. He just stood there, deep in thought, with the rain falling upon the hood of his weather-all. He watched a few water droplets fall from the lip of his hood and listened to the clatter of the storm drum all around him. Even worse than standing out here in this wretched weather was the constant smell of freshly cut turf. He had loved the smell of a ploughed field as a child, but after all the broken battlefields and burials he had witnessed over the years he had finally begun to loathe it.<br />
<br />
He wondered again now why she had chosen to be buried. It was an unusual choice for her, he thought. He had been witness to a large range of funeral rites over the years, either after battle or because he had been off-world and just passing by. Still, this one had been unexpected. At least he had been able to see her before the end. At least that was something. He wondered, staring at this place in the ground whether perhaps before he had turned up if she had ever felt lonely or afraid? Maybe everything turned out in the end just as she planned it? Maybe she had more regrets than she was willing to let on? She had been a wise old bird and as he had aged himself he had increasingly begun to appreciate the time he had spent with her, under her tutelage. He wasn't officially a pupil of hers of course, but the lessons The Brothers passed on somehow didn't seem to connect with him in quite the same way that she could. No doubting it. She was a one-of-a-kind.<br />
<br />
There were many veterans just like Airi within that retirement home on Bredonia. The proximity of the home to the Lextius Academy often allowed some of the residents to visit the school and offer their own insights. Airi had never taught any official classes despite being as cunning as a fox. But more so, Anton considered her to be extremely wise with it. Somehow he could see all that residing deep within her from the very first moment of their meeting. Without her presence here he doubted he would have made it through the academy at all. He really would miss her. Greatly.<br />
<br />
De Havilland felt a hand gently brush at his elbow, and he carefully turned round in the rains. He nodded to Ylanath and then turned back to the grave. He sighed, and then turned and left.<br />
<br />
___________________<br />
<br />
<br />
“You have the key?”, asked the robed official. De Havilland pulled up at a chain from around his neck. Extending it fully outwards the key drops from the neck of his tunic and is suspended next to De Havillands hand. He lifts the chain and key from round his neck and hands them both over.<br />
<br />
The key is unlike any he has seen before, or more precisely any that he has had a cause to see before. It is large, golden, tubular and contains a series of pins all around its mechanism. It reminded him of some kind of musical box.<br />
The official takes the key over to flat marked section of the wall behind him and inserts it into a keyhole. After a few moments of key rotations both left and right, the face of a box snaps forward with the key still at the very centre of it. The official brings both the box and key to De Havilland.<br />
<br />
“The viewing room is to your left sir. May I remind you though that both the key and box belong to this establishment. The contents are yours entirely, of course.”<br />
<br />
___________________<br />
<br />
<br />
The old man sighs deeply, pulls his glasses from his face and drops back into the faded leather chair. He rubs at the stubble on is chin and looks up from his musings. Ylanath is sat in a chair opposite him, with De Havilland resting back on a metal frame seat to the far0 corner of the orangery. The Marquis is peering out of the window, the rain hammering at the panes of glass surrounding them. He is looking over to the garden of the retirement home, watching rivers of rainwater run across the face of an elaborate water feature.<br />
<br />
The old man leans forward and jabs a finger into the pages of a leather bound book sat open on the table in front of him.<br />
<br />
“Are you sure no one else has read this?” has asks, looking to De Havilland.<br />
<br />
Not turning, De Havilland raises his left hand and brushes away some condensation on the glass beside him.<br />
<br />
“You know who she was Southerby. No one knows...yet.”<br />
<br />
“I do hope you aren't making the mistake of blackmailing me boy” the old man responds.<br />
<br />
De Havilland's eyes snap over to the veteran Hawkwood.<br />
<br />
“I do not...” he whispers, “as I do not need to.”<br />
<br />
The old man bites at his lip, staring intently at the younger Hawkwood; this Phoenix Knight. Curse Alexius and his bloody meddling! Picks the best and then trains the buggers to go messing in other peoples affairs.<br />
<br />
“You are certain that this is the only copy?” he asks.<br />
<br />
“As certain as any of us can be.”<br />
<br />
The rain continues its unending drum upon the glass of the orangery. Other than that there is complete silence. A faint smile spreads across the lips of Ylanath as Southerby eyes her suspiciously.<br />
<br />
“Is your witch reading my mind, boy?” he asks.<br />
<br />
De Havilland exhorts a laugh. “Ha! No Southerby, she is reading your face. Now lets stop pretending this isn't what you wanted and give me what Airi asked for.”<br />
<br />
___________________<br />
<br />
<br />
“Are you perfectly sure sir, this is all highly unusual?” suggests the robed official.<br />
<br />
“Yes Lowry, I want you to open my box and hand it to me. There is something in there I need to give this Phoenix Knight.” Those last words dripped from his lips like a poison.<br />
<br />
The robed official did as he was asked and when Southerby opens his box he takes out a manuscript from a bundle of other documents, books and letters and hands it over to The Marquis. He then places Airi's book into his own collection and then hands the lot over tothe official to have the box returned safely to its own burial place.Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-89898518226693553422020-04-20T13:04:00.000+01:002020-04-21T10:31:37.755+01:00Interlude - Provenance<div style="text-align: justify;">
“What about that one over there, then?” queried Keats.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
De Havilland raised a set of digital binoculars and started focussing on the details of the vessel.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“It's The Provenance” responds Ylanath, her mouth turning sourly downwards after she had spoken. “It belongs to the the Paladindrax. It transports all his own personal wares and interests. We should keep well clear of that one.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ylanath and Keats started looking back across the range of the spaceport for alternatives from the edge of the cliff edge they were lying upon. De Havilland had kept his eyes firmly on The Provenance, a faint smile spreading across his lips. Keats turned round and noticed it. He looked back to the ship and then quickly back to De Havilland.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Anton, it's unnecessarily risky. We don't need to do that.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“It's the last place they would ever think of looking for us. You have got to admit it.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats turned back to look at the ship. It was beautiful to behold, the sweeping arcs of the lines across its fuselage suggested subtle power lay underneath that grim dark exterior. A little spark lit up in his mind as he toyed with the idea of letting lose with such a majestic beast.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“I'm with Keats, Anton”, spoke Ylanath, “It will be well guarded. They wont really be looking for us here now, too much time has passed since we escaped. We would be wise to seek passage on another vessel.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The more he thought of it the more the idea pulled at him though. Having been a guest of The Paladindrax for many months the idea of leaving this domain in his own ship really appealed to him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Keats, you have the final say here. If things go south then it would all be down to you to navigate us back to Twilight safely. Its your call.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats nodded and looked back at the options laid out below. Lots of good ships, all prospects. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“We should look to the dock schedule. That would tell us when ships came in and when they are due to leave. If it were down to me, I would look to that first to determine our best option.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
De Havilland nodded his agreement. “Good call Keats”, he responded and turning to Ylanath asked, “Any idea where they would keep such a thing?” </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
*******</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats poured over the document within the dimly lit office.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, anything?” asks De Havilland urgently. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats lowers the desk lamp further and runs his fingers across the pages.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Actually, The Provenance is due to set sail in 7 days time. Not the first ship to leave but its not as far down the list as I had anticipated. It might be enough time.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Enough time?” queried Ylanath leaning over Keats to get a look at the document. De Havilland held an office door open ajar and was peering into the darkness of the corridor.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Yes...”, followed Keats, “Enough time to work out how the hell we are going to get on board... AND, before you suggest it Anton they wont be taking any laundry baskets aboard”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
De Havilland had his mouth open but promptly shut it again and turned his attention back to the corridor.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
*******</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There exists only the low pounding drum of the engines whirring not so very far away. Ylanath and Keats are packed snugly into a small service room that acted as an interlnk hub between different service tunnels for the ship. The whirring is endless, but comforts Keats, for whom the cold embrace of space feels like sanctuary, like home. Keats eyes Ylanath unflinchingly suspiciously. Ylanath looks distinctly uncomfortable about it and starts looking around the room at something else.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The original introduction by De Havilland to Ylanath had been kept very brief and momentum since then had meant that there had not been time to really begin to determine much about her. There were a few clear observations though; she was breathtakingly pretty, something which Keats was certain De Havilland would not have failed to miss. She had high cheek bones and dark brown eyes which she emphasised with a mist of black make-up. She was very tall, long limbed and looked way too thin. Keats had seen such creatures before in images of court from Masque magic lantern shows. All beauty and no brains, and not much good in a fight either. Having said that though, Keats suddenly thought of Chastity. Deadly beauty, brains and lethal at a pinch.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ylanath wore mostly dark clothes, a mix of leggings, warm layers with an overlayer of finery, similar to lace. She had good boots now that Keats came to think of it, more practical than he had perhaps realised before. Clearly she was used to walking long distances.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats leant forward slowly, “Ylanath, I feel I need to speak plainly with you.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ylanath looked at Keats and waited expectantly.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Our entry on board this ship. I cannot explain it. I don't think anyone can explain it. Certainly not anyone I have ever met.”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ylanath just looked on at Keats clearly wondering what to say next.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats continued, “That is not to say that I am not grateful. Because I am. But...” there was a pause as Keats thought through the next words carefully.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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“Anton”, responded Ylanath suddenly, “You are worried for him...”</div>
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Keats rested back against the metallic wall behind.</div>
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“He's been a good friend to me over recent years. Stuck by me. I value that loyalty, Ylanath, and would gladly repay it tenfold.”</div>
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Ylanath leant forward and was about to speak when a grill next to her was suddenly swung open and De Havilland pushes his way though.</div>
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“Bloody awful squeeze”, he gasps, “Their engineers must be midgets.”</div>
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Keats and Ylanath look to each other knowingly. Perhaps more would have to be said in the future but for now at least perhaps Ylanath would understand this Keats a little better</div>
Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-24077534395055924672020-04-20T13:03:00.003+01:002020-04-22T14:05:34.525+01:00Where are they now? - Part 4 - Notable non-nobles<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1512381010059_131632" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; padding: 0px;">
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<i style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; text-align: start;">In preparation for the restart of our campaign here's some further updates concerning some of our previous supporting cast. This time we look outside the nobility:</i><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Father Konrad</b></div>
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Still acting as confessor to Lady Stephanie, Konrad sees heresy and apostasy at every turn. He enforces Orthodox worship within Stephanie's lands and has regular public floggings of those who are "insufficient in their devotions or showing of wanton sinfulness". The peasants fear him but do seem to enjoy the spectacle of the punishments. The floggings draw sizeable crowds after Luxday worship and many serfs are eager to gain favour by reporting on their neighbours (or rivals...or old enemies...or simply people that are different to them...). </div>
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While not an official inquisitor Konrad has worked on their behalf in the past (such as following the "Husk Incident") and he has recently been receiving visits from Inquisitional colleagues who are working in Baron Samuel's library. It is possible that they may engage him in the investigation of Baron Tochiro, especially as he has a history with some of the parties involved.</div>
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<b>Sister Cassie</b></div>
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Now a penitent psychic, "sister" Cassie is a constant shadow around Father Konrad. He makes use of her gifts in his "Pancreator ordained work" but treats her with the contempt she deserves as a corrupt and sinful heretic. She seems to accept her place in the Celestial Order and follows his bidding without hesitation, whether it is pulling the truth from other sinners' minds or amplifying the impact of the Father's righteous fervour during his sermons. She continues to serve, quietly and penitently...</div>
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<b>Boss "Frisky" Wilson</b></div>
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With the Church's investigation into Baron Tochiro's activities and the black market trade in artefacts the Ravenna branch of the Scravers Guild has become extremely quiet. There is a general assumption that the Guild were involved, the issue is who and how deep. Frisky is typical of the local bosses; he is too high ranking and notable to just disappear but also so connected that the expectation is that he must have been involved in some way. As such he is keeping his nose as clean as possible, conducting open and legitimate business and being very public in doing so. </div>
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<b>Chief Louie</b></div>
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Louie is gets by as always, making deals, trading goods and trying to remain one step ahead of his creditors, over observant Reeves and the the prying eyes of do-gooder church types. Rumours that the jump route to a new lost world may soon be open for trade has peaked his interest but he's not necessarily in a financial position to exploit it. Yet.</div>
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Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-54242637368695811612018-01-30T13:35:00.003+00:002018-01-30T13:35:58.686+00:00Interlude - Home<div style="text-align: justify;">
A shapely hand moves over the items on the table and plucks a round piece of fruit from a shallow wicker basket. The woman lifts the fruit up to her face and tries to sniff at it. It is not as easy as she would have liked, the metal veil she is wearing just makes everything smell of rusted steel. She lifts the veil a little higher and tries again. This time she gets the scent she is seeking. The fruit is good.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The woman lowers the edge of her veil and looks across to the old man manning the stall, “Okay, that doesn't smell quite as bad as I expected. Lets see about the rest .”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She starts looking through the other items on the stall and places a few choice pieces into a wooden bowl. Having piqued his curiosity the stallholder starts to assess the woman thoughtfully. At first she appears to be just like any other Vuldrok warrior, but it is clearly evident that she is certainly no shield-maiden. The metal Kurgan veil she is wearing suggested she was well travelled, perhaps a mercenary just passing through with her tribe or perhaps a loner who has come here to settle from foreign lands? She had the height of a shield-maiden, that much was true enough, just not the frame. She was far too scrawny from what he could tell, no real bulk to speak of. He doubted whether she would be much good at lifting up shield at need, or much use at swinging anything heavier than that spear she carried. Her eyes looked pretty enough though, that much he could discern. They were richly dark brown, very alluring, which she seemed to have enhanced within a mist of dark face-paint.</div>
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“I'll take everything in the bowl. Throw in those herbs as well” she says pointing to a small bowl of crushed medicinal leaves.</div>
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They agree on a price; the woman hands over a cloth bag and the stallholder starts to place all of the provisions inside. Once he has finished he raises his hand and looks at her expectantly for payment. It is only then that he notices that she is looking in a completely different direction. He watches the woman as her head starts turning this way, and that. The stallholder clears his throat a few times and the woman hands him the coins without ever looking back. Suddenly and without warning she grabs at the bag and starts to walk off at a great pace through the pressing crowd of the market. Her strides are long and filled with a tremendous sense of purpose, her lithe torso twists and turns between the passers-by; the little bag of groceries still clutched firmly in her hand.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Eventually she breaks free from the crowd and steps out into a small pathway that is flanked on either side by a row of small dwellings. A few metres immediately ahead of her is the static form of large wretched man. The man appears to be clothed in an array of sorry-looking rags and armaments, his wild hair and bushy beard are caked with a veneer of forest filth. The wild man's face appears to be fixed upon one particular side of the pathway, perhaps focussing in on some of the houses that were pressing in around them. From what she could tell he does not yet appear to have noticed her. The warrior-woman silently affixes her bag to a clip on her belt and then brings her spear around, forcing it out in front of her. Carefully, and with great skill she creeps forwards.</div>
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Her heart is racing now; her steps are faint but to her own ears they sound like the trumpeting of heralds. So close to him now, just a mere moment away...</div>
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Suddenly, and with great speed the man raises his forefinger to his lips. Ylanath stops dead in her tracks, barely breathing.</div>
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They stand like that, motionless, for what feels to her like hours. Eventually the wildman raises both his hands upwards and places them palm-down on to the crown of his head. Ylanath shakes her head in disbelief. This cannot be happening, this cannot be right! They had come too far already.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Anton! Please! Don't!” she begs. Without turning The Marquis pushes one hand out towards her in a gesture for quiet and returns it back to the top of his head. Slowly The Marquis makes his way forward, his whole being in a state of perfect surrender.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
_____________________________________________</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hesitantly, Anton pushes at the door with his fingertips. His other hand he still keeps placed firmly on the top of his thick crop of filthy hair. He steps purposefully through the doorway and into the small room the other side. He does not turn round and he keeps his eyes downcast and his movements passive and unthreatening. With great care he slowly turns around to face the scene in the room.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In one corner of the room stands a man dressed in the common finery of an Antioch freeman. He appears of average build and so does not carry the imposing form of De Havilland. Of more immediate relevance and concern is the fact that in his right hand he appears to be holding what looked to be a fairly sizeable flechette pistol.</div>
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Opposite him, lying on a table with a cushion under her head is a woman in local dress but fair-haired, sharply pretty, with tattoos tracing the edge of her cheek and jaw. And although they're convincingly female, De Havilland is certain it's Keats, apparently going by the name Arcadia had called him (her?): Tigerlily!</div>
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“What have you done with my friend?” starts De Havilland.</div>
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“Stay away from my wife! I don’t know what you did to her in the market that gave her seizures, but she’s sleeping now so I would bloody well appreciate you leaving the same way you came in.”</div>
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“I am afraid I can't do that...” followed De Havilland.</div>
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The stranger smiled, teeth poking through the veil of amusement. “I think you may be about to make a really big mistake Wildman.”</div>
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De Havilland shakes his head. “No, I don't think so, you see I actually know your wife very well.”</div>
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The stranger looks De Havilland up and down, and smirks. “From the look of you I find that very hard to believe”</div>
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De Havilland smiles back. “The really astounding thing for me, and to be honest this came as quite a surprise, is that now I have met her husband I just suddenly realise that I know who you are as well.”</div>
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The stranger’s eyes narrow very sharply. “Explain...” he calls.</div>
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However, hearing a sudden noise from outside the stranger turns his gaze back over to the doorway but keeps the gun firmly pointed at De Havilland. Slowly and with her arms outstretched Ylanath steps bravely into the room.</div>
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“What is going on....” she asks, pointedly looking at De Havilland. “What are you doing, why are you talking to this man?”</div>
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The flechette pistol was moving back and forth between them now.</div>
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“Keep it on me, keep the weapon on me!” cries De Havilland still keen to look as much a supplicant as he could.</div>
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The stranger looks at them both, calculating a next move. He was outnumbered now and in a small space. He would still have enough rounds to take the big man down first though. He was still in control here.</div>
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“We've met before” interjects De Havilland, “Off-world....somewhere...very far away from here.”</div>
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Ylanath looked over at the man. He looked typically local to her. Part of the reason for De Havilland’s ragged hair and beard was to help cover up some of that noble pampered skin he had cultivated over the years. This stranger looked entirely native to her. De Havilland had clearly made a mistake.</div>
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The stranger’s eyes were peering intently at De Havilland now. He tilts his head ever so slightly to one side, trying to get a better look at the filthy human in front of him. De Havilland lifts some of the mucky hair away from his eyes so that the stranger can get a better look.</div>
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After a few moments the briefest flicker of recognition spreads across the man's face, but he keeps the gun extended on De Havilland anyway.</div>
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“Who is she?” he asks pointedly, gesturing with his head in Ylanath’s direction.</div>
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“She helped me escape the Paladindrax's prison. We were both being kept deep underground, right under his palace. She helped me to get out.” answered De Havilland, still not moving a muscle. “We've both been on the run ever since for just over a year now. It’s been desperately close on more than a few occasions, but I am sure they have no idea we are here at the moment.”</div>
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“You really haven't answered my question Phoenix Knight”, followed the stranger, “WHO IS SHE...?” Slowly the gun moves round to Ylanath.</div>
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“Woah, no..wait!”, calls out De Havilland, “She was a prisoner. She had attempted to break into a store of some of the Paladindrax's personal effects; Some ancient artifacts and suchlike. He was just making up his mind about what to do with her when we escaped. That's all”</div>
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“Still don't buy it. You steal from the Paladindrax you get executed”, continued the stranger.</div>
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De Havilland looked over at Ylanath who was looking nervously back at the knight.</div>
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“She never took anything. She was just there to study it. That was all” finished De Havilland.</div>
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Ylanath spoke next, “He speaks the truth. Nothing was taken. They found me there, that much is true, but they know I would never need to take anything. My people have no need of trinkets and baubles. I follow the old ways. Those in charge know of this. I meant no harm to anyone.”</div>
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“I still don't get it” retorts the stranger, “but I guess it really doesn't matter all that much right now. What I have to determine now is what to do with you.”</div>
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They stood there in absolute silence. De Havilland speaks first.</div>
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“Why don't you and I have a quiet little chat somewhere, discuss a good solution for everyone?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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The stranger shakes his head, “I don't think so Knight. I kind of like keeping this weapon on the woman to be honest. Besides, you know this isn't a two-way conversation. I make the decisions and I get to decide whether you two live or die right here.”</div>
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“I don't think so” copied De Havilland, “If you wanted me dead you would’ve shot me by now. And your wife, well, she’s a noble scion of House Justinian. This isn’t her home, it’s just where the slavers sold her.”</div>
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More silence, with the man and the wildman looking across at each other. The man’s smile falters, grows uncertain: De Havilland’s suggestion is preposterous, but it’s the word of a Phoenix Knight. It explains things about her.</div>
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Finally, after a protracted and tense period the stranger nods slightly, “She’s a free woman. She can go where she damn well pleases. But you, you two have to leave.”</div>
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De Havilland looks over to Ylanath. They had discussed this eventuality at great length during the preceding months. Antioch was indeed her home but staying here after their dramatic escape from the prison in Nicaea was simply not possible any longer. Still hidden beneath the metal veil she was wearing, she nods her head in agreement.</div>
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“You leave when I say and how I say. No questions asked. No side-missions, no retribution on the Paladindrax, De Havilland. Am I making myself clear, here?”</div>
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“Absolutely” grins De Havilland, slowly dropping his hands to his sides, “Besides, I’ve had plenty of retribution already…”</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
_____________________________________________</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats felt the familiar rumble of a ship’s engine vibrating through his body. How often had that rhythmic tune sung him off to sleep in the early years of his travels? He’d had peace on Antioch too: tenuous, the false contentment of forgetting. How many more years would he have to endure before he would experience those same feelings of peace and happiness?</div>
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Keats looks over to the Marquis. De Havilland was now sound asleep on a great pile of woollen blankets within their shelter. Keats decided it would probably take explosive decompression to wake him up right now. Keats laughs despite himself, imagining the Marquis floating around in space still completely unaware of his comical predicament.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Vuldrok woman De Havilland had been travelling with now lay close by his side. Once or twice Keats had watched her move over to him completely unaware in her sleep. She had removed her disguise since coming aboard ship and it came as no surprise to Keats that the woman was exotically beautiful. Keats lay there, watching the two of them close up; together. He took a deep breath and fought back the gut-wrenching twist in his stomach as thoughts of Cortez came rushing back. Their last exchange had been heartfelt, raw and excruciatingly painful. He wondered if Cortez was still alive or not; wondered if Cortez cared if he was still alive. One small tear pooled in an eye which Keats immediately wiped away and fought back.</div>
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There was no time for this right now. No time for sentimentality. No time for daydreams. Keats quickly commanded his mind to start thinking about something, anything else really. He started trying to think about the ship they were on. 'The Provenance' was just one of the many ships that belonged to the Palindindrax, he reminded himself. It was used as a small personal freighter and passenger vessel for the office of Paladindrax and was often used to traffic any number of his ongoing personal interests. From what Keats could make out it was probably a fairly luxurious vessel. Forays into the cargo deck during quieter periods of their travel had suggested that no expense had been spared in terms of the choice of materials used within the build. Keats had spent many years walking the length and breadth of ships in his time, and this one was certainly one of the more extravagant crafts. He wondered who had been commissioned to design such a craft and marvelled at how ancient it now must be.</div>
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On Antioch, she had just been Tigerlily. Tigerlily who’d saved her brother and been captured. A gladiator who’d earned her freedom. With a home, a husband. They were going to adopt. All her roles - Keats, Hemlock - had been lost, memories buried alongside Cortez. Now Keats’ life is unveiled, stark, while Tigerlily’s time of simple contentment feels like someone else’s recollections. The goodbye was hard. Keats still knew what Tigerlily felt for her husband. But he had to go.</div>
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And what of De Havilland? Ragged but powerful, dirty and wild-haired, sharing his bed with an exotic Vuldrok. Is he any less changed? Can he too just cut his hair and return to who he was? He'd come across half a planet searching for Keats with the forces of the Paladindrax at his heels, found Keats’ secret and stuck with him nonetheless. Things would never be quite the same again.</div>
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They were going home.</div>
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Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-41590914326025158212018-01-15T11:27:00.002+00:002018-01-15T11:27:30.549+00:00Interlude - The Assault<div style="text-align: justify;">
Beyond the known worlds, beneath the surface and nuclear winter of the planet Twilight, Keats walks alone through bunker tunnels. Today he could just be Keats: Sir Hemlock Justinian was not required. No dinners, no negotiations. At the entrance to the diplomatic suite, Keats swipes the lock and heaves the door open. It shuts heavily, cutting off the bunker’s clamour, leaving just the hum of the air units, quiet as a cargo-hold when a ship is drifting. An emergency lamp above the door throws the only light; the room is intimated in amber and shadow. That’s good: Keats can use the washroom before anyone else gets back. He starts to unfasten his jacket and is half-way across the room before he notices the man in the chair.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I am sorry, Keats,’ Cortez raises a glass; the chair’s wings cast his face into shadow, ‘I did not mean to startle you.’</div>
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‘Are you alright?’ one hand re-buttons the jacket, the other puts the knife away.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I consider things. It is quiet.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I thought you were entertaining Miss Jessica.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cortez laughs, ‘I think she prefer blondes,’ then, lifting a bottle from his side-table, ‘Would you like some?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats smells spirits and shakes his head, and though he doesn’t say anything Cortez reads the concern.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I need the practice,’ Cortez sets down the bottle and shrugs in the depth of the chair, ‘Negotiatory lubricant.’</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats nods and leaves him, but at the door to the washroom stops and turns back. Cortez had said his name, quietly, something childlike in it, needful. Keats pads back in and peers into the chair’s shadows.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘Do you think we overreach ourselves?’ Cortez, thick-voiced.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘What do you mean?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘This is the most horrible planet I have ever descended to,’ Cortez continues and Keats’ response is cut short, ‘And deadly! I would call it a nest of vipers, but vipers are not so heavily armed.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘Nuclear vipers?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cortez snorts, ‘I look at how this can end, and nine in ten end with us shot and our ship turned to cooling debris,’ Keats gets a sense of Cortez’s head turning, facing up at Keats, ‘I fear I have doomed us all.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats shakes his head, ‘There are trade-routes with other planets, and the Heidgards are impressed with the Marquis De Havilland.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘The trade-routes are a jump we have no key for; the Heidgards are a weak faction in a war-scoured hell.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I’m glad we didn’t side with the Citadel,’ softly, ‘I have no stomach for slave-trading.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I saw the hand of the Pancreator in our endeavours, a galaxy to explore,’ Cortez spreads his arms and growls, ‘The gleam of opportunity!’ he drops his hands, voice cracking, ‘Was I deluded?’</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats stares down at Cortez, silent. He finds a glass, pours himself a measure from the bottle and sits in the chair beside Cortez, but leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Eyes adjusting, Keats sees the stray coils veiling one of Cortez’s eyes; the other glistens.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats is used to Cortez’s dramatic moods. Sometimes Keats would joke with him, sometimes just listen, or sit in companionable silence. This is different. There’d been an urgency to him since he turned up with his own ship and jump-key, Keats had thought maybe desperation, but dismissed it since Keats was never much good at understanding people. Should Keats have stayed with his friend instead of leaving him to play Hemlock? What if Hemlock was a mistake, a lie too far? Keats kicks off his boots and curls his legs up in the chair, leaning on the wing so he can look at Cortez. Cortez asked if he was deluded. Keats could tell him about delusion.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Through the years of lies – or, if not actual lying, then allowing a false belief to perpetuate – the truth sometimes intruded on Keats and he longed to share it with Cortez. But would he see it as betrayal? Keats couldn’t endure that. Meanwhile, a little part of Keats dreamed that Cortez would fall for the person beneath the lie, and they’d skip hand in hand into the sunset.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But not now. Cortez has problems enough without his best friend’s betrayal. And now Cortez, the decisive one, the captain with a plan, sees only doom. Keats pats his knives and shield unit. His sword hangs by the door.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘Yesterday, you did not see,’ Cortez murmurs, ‘Miss Jessica gazing at you all evening?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I thought she was looking at you.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘Have you ever been in love, Keats?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats looks away, hiding behind a sip of the spirit, ‘I think so.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘Who?’ Cortez leans forward. Keats wants to reach out and tuck the fallen curls back behind his ear.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Instead, he sits frozen and turns red, ‘I never mentioned it to them. I doubt I’m their type.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I had often wondered about you. I thought, perhaps, you might be gay.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Had he seen it? Keats’ breath catches. He should’ve been more thorough, manufactured an affair or two, but that was its own risk: Keats never was a good liar, protected by others’ assumptions and that the lie had become so part of him that it sometimes felt like the truth. A shield of delusion. Instead, Keats was asexual, not risking comments about young ladies for fear the falsehood might shine through. But had he let an errant gaze slip? Keats mouth opens, closes.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘Because,’ Cortez meets Keats’ gaze, ‘I am.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats’ eyes glaze.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I always dreamed,’ Corteaz breathes, ‘that you were too.’</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats laughs. It snaps out high, hysterical. A sense of something shattering. He sets down his drink, unfolds from the chair and starts to undress, still laughing. His shaking fingers slip on the buttons.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cortez starts to rise, ‘You do not have to, not like this.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But the look Keats gives him, manic, scares him and he falls back into the chair.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats stands naked before Cortez. He turns so the light falls on his front, silent now, barely breathing.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It takes Cortez a moment to realise what he’s seeing. Eventually, he asks, ‘What happened?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘It would go easier on you, if you were a boy,’ high and fragile, but deliberate, quoting.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘What?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘He said it, before he put me on the shuttle. Then he died. And everyone, everyone else. All dead. Just me. And up there, in the black, it would go easier on me, if I were a boy.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And for once, Cortez is lost for words. His expression changes as the last dozen years reconfigure.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘I’m sorry,’ Keats is crying, and despite that, Keats’ higher-pitched voice seems easier, ‘I’m so sorry.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘Then, who is Hemlock?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats’ head shakes: don’t go there, ‘I can’t let him be dead.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After a moment, in disbelief, ‘Tigerlilly?’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats stands, shaking, and doesn’t deny it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
‘You’re insane,’ Cortez breathes.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats laughs, wild-eyed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cortez chokes, ‘I loved you.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The laughter comes so hard, so hysterical that Keats collapses, clutching ribs, crying and laughing and curling up in a ball on the rug.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cortez slams down his drink and rises to slap Keats, but the drink makes him unsteady, and Keats – or whatever rolls and laughs on the floor – frightens Cortez. He staggers out.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In time, the madness passes, and Keats dresses in panic in case anyone else comes in. As he creeps to bed, he whispers to Cortez’s door, ‘I loved you too.’</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
*****</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Distant cracks and rumbles wake little Tigerlilly. A tremor runs through the room. Trinkets rattle. Then the alarm bells start to sound.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Distant thuds and rumbles wake Keats. A tremor runs through the room. Masonry cracks. Then the alarm sirens start to sound.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Hemlock grabs Tigerlilly’s hand and runs into the corridor. People are shouting and fleeing. Hemlock slips through the press.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats fastens shield unit and buckles sword and knives over his pyjamas. Cortez emerges in damask dressing-gown. Keats grabs his hand and runs into the corridor. People are shouting and fleeing. Keats slips through the press.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>The corridor smells of smoke. Light of distant fires. Masked men step out of the shadows and cut down guards and civilians. Hemlock ducks into a side-corridor.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bits of ceiling fall in showers of dust. A closer rumbling, cracking, tearing and soldiers appear, masked men that shoot the guards and panicking civilians. Keats ducks into a side-corridor.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Tigerlilly runs, stuffed tiger in one hand, the other clutching Hemlock’s. People screaming, dying, the sound of buildings collapsing.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats runs, sword in one hand, the other clutching Cortez’s. He has a pistol. People screaming, dying, the sound of tunnels collapsing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>The ceiling falls, the way blocked, sound of fire and death beyond it. Smoke billows black.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The ceiling falls, the way blocked, sound of fire and death beyond it. Smoke billows black.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Losing Hemlock’s hand. Separated, smoke washing between. Masked men with blades emerge from the shadows.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The ground shakes. Losing Cortez’s hand. Separated, smoke washing between. Masked men with guns emerge from the shadows.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>A hand over Hemlock’s face and his throat is cut. Tigerlilly runs.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Keats screams Hemlock’s name. The solders turn their guns: his shield flares. Keats kills them, then takes Cortez’s hand.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Tigerlilly, found by the family retainer, spirited out through the tunnel to an ore shuttle and bundled in with an envelope and satchel, and the advice, ‘It would go easier on you, if you were a boy.’</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Near the shuttle, enemies closing. Keats slips his shield onto Cortez and pushes him toward the door, ‘Go, Hemlock! I’ll slow them.’</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>The shuttle tears upwards, shaking and roaring, Tigerlilly all alone. Below, Hemlock is dead.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Enemies rounding the corner. Keats emerges from the shadows and cuts a throat open. He slips around bayonets and carves a bloody path, alone with a sword. Until they shoot him, and he falls, knowing that Hemlock is safe.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-14929880566878878412018-01-03T13:26:00.000+00:002018-01-03T13:26:14.995+00:00Where are they now? - Part 3 - Other notable nobles<i>In preparation for the restart of our campaign here's the latest updates concerning some of our previous supporting cast. This time it is other Nobles of note:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>Count Innocence Decados</b><br />
Since the events of "The Arcadia Affair" and the implication of his House (and his own knights directly) in events, the Count has withdrawn again into his self imposed exile. Rarely seen in court these days many wonder if he is actually spending most of his time off world.<br />
<br />
<b>Lady Chastity Decados</b><br />
While her father may have withdrawn from Ravenna society again Chastity has embraced it. She acts as her father's representative at most formal functions and events and seems to be going out of her way to play to all the tropes and stereotypes of the Decados. Rarely out of the gossip columns she has been linked with a string of affairs and trysts both with nobility and freemen. In the true nature of her House she seems determined to shock and outrage the formal and traditional Ravennans but so far has avoided formal censure other than some harshly worded public admonishments, negative Town Crier editorials and being the direct target of a number of fiery sermons by notable clergy. Whether she has a deliberate long term goal, other than to cause controversy, is unclear.<br />
<br />
<b>Lady Yelizaveta Decados</b><br />
Once Sir Bedevere's ransom was arranged and settled and the Hawkwood's ships and remaining crew returned the Lady Yelizaveta appears to have faded away. As one of the Count's key agents it is likely she will resurface at some point but how, where and in what guise, only the Pancreator can say. As for Sir Hasimir's ill fated vessel, "The Questionable Intent", that remains in Decados control and is berthed in Ravenna orbit in a dock rented by the Count.<br />
<br />
<b>Countessa Morgana Trusnikron</b><br />
Still the undisputed ruler of her House on Ravenna the Countessa continues her open support of her dear friend the Countess Cassandra Hawkwood. Her House troops have seen heavy losses (both in manpower and beasts) and she has seen some internal pressure to withdraw or reduce her support. Mercifully perhaps, due to the respect in which she has held, she has seen off all these challenges. However it may only be a matter of time unless the tide of the war turns. Some speculate that she may have therefore had a hand in bringing in the various errant knights who have joined Cassandra's cause, and it is notable that a number are Trusnikrons from other worlds.<br />
<br />
<b>Baronet Theodore Gangrel Trusnikron</b><br />
The rough and hardy knight still serves as stable master and beast and horse trainer for Baron Tochiro but that agreement comes to an end soon. The Trusnikron support of Countess Cassandra, coupled with the negative view of the Baron (and the suggestion that his funds may be on the wane) give rise to much speculation that this arrangement will not be renewed.<br />
<br />
<b>Sir Vim Militas-Djinn Al Malik</b><br />
Sir Vim has apparently succumbed to wanderlust once more and headed off into the Known Worlds upon a quest. After his disappearance the courtly gossips of Ravenna will recall and relate that he was seen at a soiree in a private discussion with Baroness Emeraldas Al Malik Justinian, in which neither of them appeared very pleased, some might say that they were irate (well, as irate as users of the Graceful Tongue become)Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-36951297565315904852017-12-05T21:22:00.001+00:002020-04-17T18:00:01.975+01:00Where are they now? - Part 2 - The Justinians<i>Continuing on the updates to our campaign based on the time that has passed since we last played, it's time to look at some of the main Non-player Characters from events to date, the significant members of House Justinian on Ravenna.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The Ravenna Justinians are currently a torn and fractious House. Not only are they dealing with the wider conflict within the House between the old guard and the youth but the two most senior members of the House are now in increasing open conflict. </i><br />
<br />
<b>Earl Kiruda Quentin Justinian</b><br />
The Earl is still feeling the pressure and reputation damage caused to his House by the whole Arcadia affair. The fact that the Decados were involved helped mitigate a lot of the damage and restore some of the Justinian's reputation with the Hawkwoods although it was replaced with a certain amount of pity (those poor little minor house nobles, easily deceived by those nefarious Decados swine....). As a proud man this has galled him no end but he has redirected a lot of his frustration towards his rivalry with Baron Tochiro. Taking care to not act overtly against the Baron he has however supported the Orthodoxy in their investigations (based around the notebook Hemlock provided) and relished every awkwardness and difficulty this has caused.<br />
A lot of the rest of Kiruda's time is spent hosting and carousing Hawkwoods and local representatives of other noble Houses in an attempt to recover some of the House's reputation, a role he pretty much despises. He officially defends the Hawkwood claim of the Midden Barony but has done little to impose or support it other than a few official letters sent to Sir Tarquin. It seems that he has a certain admiration for the boy and not taking a stronger line is both preventing the true restoration of Justinian reputation and plays into Tochiro's hands.<br />
Some close to the Earl (and the Hawkwood courtly gossips) also express concern that his health may be beginning to fail and the pressures of recent years are taking their toll...<br />
<br />
<b>Baroness Helena Midden Justinian</b><br />
Few have seen or heard of the Baroness since her arrest and internment in Suryada. It is said that Kiruda is occasionally permitted to visit her but that is unsubstantiated. He has certainly not been successful in negotiating her release, if she still lives.<br />
<br />
<b>General Sir Anthony Masseri Justinian</b><br />
The General's social popularity rapidly waned, as did the Hawkwood appetite for the cost of keeping him under house arrest. Therefore when his daughter Stephanie Hawkwood appealed for him to be released to her custody he was swiftly sent packing back to Deepcore 104. He has now reverted to the same existence he had under Baroness Helena; hunting, drinking and entertaining his cronies at the expense of his family while seemingly blissfully unaware of the events that surround him.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Sir Tarquin Midden Justinian</b><br />
The young knight has retained regency of his mother's fief, in opposition to the demands of the Hawkwood authorities. While he might have the unofficial support of Earl Kiruda he is in a delicate position. His sister, Stephanie, has been charged with reclaiming his lands for the Hawkwoods but her lack of resources and military experience have rapidly led to a stalemate. However this is a situation that at present the authorities of House Hawkwood seem happy to leave as is. In recent months Stephanie has changed tack to seeking a more bureaucratic solution and the Reeves are profiting greatly from the legal challenges that have ensued.<br />
Tarquin himself has proven to be a kind and gracious ruler, concerned primarily with the lives and well being of his people, and he is loved by them for it. Many peasants dare to mumble that he is a great improvement on his mother and they have proven in the past that they would protect him with their lives.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Lady Stephanie Justinian Hawkwood</b><br />
Stephanie adores being lady of the manor and it would be absolutely perfect if it wasn't for her troublesome brother...but at least her adorable Daddykins is home with her where he belongs. If only the Hawkwoods would take her seriously. Perhaps if she was wed again that might help...Baron Cuthbert Hawkwood is now eligible....<br />
<br />
<b>Baron Tochiro Justinian</b><br />
Hemlock's father is seemingly under pressure from all sides, and may be all the more dangerous because of it. Like a cornered animal he is at risk of taking drastic and deliberate action to protect himself or punish those he sees as his foes.<br />
His main adversary at present is the local Orthodox Church. The notebook discovered by Sir Hemlock implicated Tochiro in a long running black market tech and artefact operation, a possibility that had ben suggested and gossiped of for sometime (and was feared by elements of the church) but this appears to be damning evidence. That being said the Baron has tried to discredit the source (his own son) pointing to his lack of stability, wayward nature and the emotional damage caused by his childhood trauma. While the church is actively pursuing investigations and prosecutions against him he still entertains the support of the ruling Hawkwoods (many of whom openly prefer him to Earl Kiruda) and hence there have been significant "administrative delays" which have beset and hampered the church's activities. It might also be suggested that any technology that came from Tochiro's operation was sold somewhere and so there will be a number of his customers who may be helping to prevent accusations and evidence from coming to light...<br />
The Baron's other key adversary is the Earl himself. Whilst never friends Tochiro has become increasingly open in his criticism and hostility towards Kiruda. It appears that Tochiro feels that one of the best ways to protect himself would be to finally wrest control of the Ravenna Justinians from his liege. While still stepping carefully he is moving his pieces into play and many expect his final moves to come soon. With allies in two royals houses (Hawkwood and Al Malik) and deep Guild connections (even if cast under a shadow based on the notebook's revelations) the baron is not without powerful friends.<br />
<br />
<b>Baroness Emeraldas Al Malik Justinian</b><br />
As enchanting as ever in public some say that a certain melancholy has entered the attitude of the demure and beautiful Baroness. Many speculate it is her husband's woes, others that she mourns her wastrel, broken shell of a son. Whatever the reason she puts up a fabulous front but the most perceptive of onlookers note that there is "something"...<br />
As ever she remains an advocate for her husband, smoothing tensions and social engagements when his "plain speaking" and the rumours of his back handed dealings can cause "difficulties". She is also doing a great deal of work with the Sanctuary Aeon, donating significant amounts for a new hospital complex and organising fundraising events for the sect's Austrum relief effort. Such work has taken her increasingly off world but when visiting Ravenna she is always seen to be supporting her husband at least once or twice...<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Master Alfredo Garcia</b><br />
Tochiro's master of the household met with an unfortunate accident while checking an air pumping unit on the edge of the central chasm of Deepcore 104. No body was found an he left no immediate descendants.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Baroness Phillipa "Peppa" Abalone Justinian</b><br />
The Baroness never really recovered from the shock of witnessing the death of Baron Christopher Hawkwood. She was too frail to be moved from the Midden Barony, especially as the troubles erupted as Tarquin tried to retake his family domain, and so she slowly declined and passed away there. Lady Stephanie graciously agreed to a brief respite in border fighting t accept her body to be interred in the family mausoleum within what was the Barony of Abalone.<br />
<br />
<b>Baron Turmeric Justinian</b><br />
Tumeric remains in a holding position. He considers Tarquin an ally but is distrustful and disdainful of Stephanie "A viper at my very door", he has been known to say. He is also critical of both Tochiro and Kiruda as he sees them both as staid members of the "old guard" of the Justinians. However some believe that recent visits from representatives of the Al Malik may be a on behalf of Baron Tochiro seeking to win his ear and support.<br />
<br />
<b>Baron Samuel Justinian</b><br />
Samuel has spent recent years still holed up in his library. He is rarely seen "in the season" or at court and is content to let the larger universe pass by. However due to the bureaucratic interference that the church has encountered in it's investigations into Baron Tochiro, Earl Kiruda stepped in to suggest that Samuel might be of some assistance. A task (and recognition) he actually relished. A number of inquisitorial agents and scribes are now hard at work, pouring through the Barons copious archival records looking for further evidence of Tochiro's tech heresy.<br />
<br />
<b>Lady Saffron Justinian</b><br />
The Lady Saffron retains her stewardship of her master's lands in Crofters Holt. While the men-at-arms of Crofters Holt never assisted the Midden Barony in it's skirmishes against Lady Stephanie's forces a number of well trained and disciplined mercenaries offered their services to Sir Tarquin for no charge other than meal and board while Saffron's men were strangely absent hunting Snarks in the north reaches...Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-58723024652533040732017-12-04T21:33:00.000+00:002017-12-04T21:33:10.980+00:00Where are they now? - Part 1 - the Hawkwoods<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is almost twenty months since the last time I ran Fading Suns... When we last played we left Keats, Mal and De Havilland with the crew of Corteaz' Charioteer Guild ship as they set out from the Known Worlds to Lost Worlds, beyond the mapped jump routes, there to find new life and new civilisations (and exploit them for profit and glory....). While Hasimir remained on Ravenna as steward for De Havilland's fief on the war torn Austrum Islands.</div>
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Fading Suns is never truely far from my mind and lately there have been a few topical triggers that have brought it to the forefront. One of which being the activity around the new edition. In almost thiry fve years of gaming "The Trials and Tribulations of Dame Arcadia Justinian" remains one of my favourite ever RPG campaigns and I hold the cast and story we created very dear. </div>
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The story, as I originally intended to take it from where we left off, will never be run. For personal reasons there are concepts, characters and plots that I wouldn't use now, or at least don't feel able to use as I had planned. That is not to say I wouldn't play a sequel game, just that it will be far from my original plan, and probably for the better. </div>
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Thus I decided to engage in a little "thought exercise". What were the fates of our cast since we saw them last? I'm winding the clock forward about two years from our last adventure and will start with a review of some of our supporting cast...</div>
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<b>Planetary Duke Cassius Hawkwood</b></div>
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The duke has always placed Ravenna first, even to the perceived detriment of his House as a whole. Tradition is everything and there are right and proper ways to do things. Unfortunately this position of following the appropriate ways and all will be well is being tested to the limit. The conflict in the Austrum Islands has reached a tipping point with old allegiances and favours being called in from both sides. More and more off world eyes are being drawn to events in the otherwise peaceful world as many nobles from other systems come to support the warring factions due to ancient fealty or modern opportunism. Leading to an increased focus and pressure on the Duke to act to resolve the matter in some way...</div>
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<b>Sir Bedevere Hawkwood</b></div>
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Bedevere remained a captive aboard The Questionable Intent, but as an "honoured guest" rather than a prisoner of pirates until his family agreed on a suitable "recovery fee and administration costs" (i.e. ransom...), as is the custom with the Nobility and their naval conflicts. As it stood though the Decados set a very low fee; enough to follow form and not cause insult to the status of the knight or his command, but trivial enough that either it was a sign of good faith, that they wanted a swift end of the matter or that they will expect a favour in return at a future time...</div>
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Since then Bedevere as remained a dutiful knight. He continues to primarily serve in space and may be about to be promoted to the command of a larger vessel. If the players opened up the gate to Twilight he will have been charged with escorting vessels into "barbarian space" and possibly could be involved with blockading the gate to prevent "heretical corruption" spreading to Ravenna.</div>
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<b>Countess Cassandra Hawkwood</b></div>
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The war swiftly turned on the Countess. Her Justinian allies largely abandoned her, turning their attention back to the internal strife in their own House. Her people lacked military strength (beyond her efficient wet-navy) and the air cavalry of her Trusnikron allies could only do so much. Saboteurs and commando forces from the West destroyed key canals and logistical targets and things looked bleak. What happened next is unclear but it is believed that while Cassandra is no military expert she is both tenacious and have the courage of her convictions. Although she probably despised doing so it is thought that she got word to her cousin, one who considered her a personal favourite; none other than the Emperor himself. While he has not officially intervened in the months since, a steady stream of young Errant Knights, keen for glory or recognition (and perhaps seeking the favour of the Emperor or a seat as one of his Phoenix Knights) has arrived on the shores of the islands, offering Casandra their swords. This small but growing, eclectic, force is hard to command and full of eager, glory hunting young turks and idealists. While they have not turned the tide by any means they have held the line and prevented the West's victory (for now). Meanwhile Cassandra herself, bolstered by this support, seems to become more determined by the day...</div>
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<b>Count Otto Kierkagaard Hawkwood</b></div>
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The Count saw victory in his grasp, and had the support of the Orthodoxy and the tacit approval of his House on Ravenna and the Duchal court....and then all these off-world knights started to interfere. He has protested and scowled and shouted. Raged against the indignity of it all and tried to bring down the weight of authority upon them...but to no avail. He is an efficient soldier but when it comes to the social graces he is short tempered, rude and boorish. While making the matter of the ownership of the islands an informal family dispute worked for him initially, now that he wants outside support and legal aid he finds he lacks the support he needs without making the war an "open conflict". Thus he has turned his fury against his sister. He is driving up the production and militarisation of his forces, pilling on more and more pressure and digging deep into his coffers to do so. The impact on his once idyllic lands and peaceful people may be irreversible.</div>
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<b>Baron Cuthbert Mountbatten Hawkwood</b></div>
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Young Cuthbert is growing nicely into the landed gentry he was forced by circumstance into being. He is learning to steward his fief well and taking good counsel from the staff he inherited from his deceased brother. It is suggested at court that he will soon look to take a wife and a number of eligible suitors are already being suggested by the gossip columns of the Local Town Criers.</div>
Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200085774168816424.post-13704443964949680762016-05-04T13:03:00.003+01:002016-05-04T13:03:29.911+01:00Session forty-one - The journey begins...<div style="text-align: justify;">
<em>Seems like a short session but there was a lot of explanation as to the ship, crew and set up. Lots of groundwork laid down for the coming sessions...</em><br />
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The crew prepare to leave Ravenna space. De Havilland stocks up on a number of items of gear and Mal wanders the Agora. While in the Market place a mysterious stranger presses a note into Sir Mal's hand...<br />
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Fully loaded with crew and supplies the San Paulus sets sail. As a member of the crew, Mal is given duties by the Bo'sun, an Ur-Obun named Lod By Ron. It appears he is to be a swabbie and general dogs-body a role he seems to enjoy as it allows him to watch and wander around the ship. The duty rota is established and it appears that all the crew members of the cadre are scheduled to work the same shift (with Keats as Watch officer). As well as De Havilland there is a second passenger, a young, short, free-woman named Eloise. De Havilland recognises her as Lady Althea Justinian and at a quiet time they manage to catch up. Following her rebellion against the wishes of Father Konrad she has been trying to evade the church and is heading into space in her search for truth and a personal spiritual quest. She soon establishes herself as the de facto cook aboard as Mal (the previous choice) is shown to have little skill and even less inclination, while Eloise/Althea relishes taking care of the crew.<br />
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The ship is halted by a Hawkwood customs inspection and De Havilland notes that Cortez is not forthcoming with their ultimate destination to the knight who boards them. He makes a mental note but says nothing more.</div>
Ben Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10816664665867026802noreply@blogger.com0