Diablotin 2 session 18

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Session

Session date:

Diablotin date:

RAW

Narrator: It is the beginning of Eighth-month, and the city's heat wave shows little sign of abating. The public is growing more agitated, and there have been several small-ish riots over the dwindling water supply.

• Alma saves all her appropriate prayer capacity for creating and purifying water.

Narrator: Alma, Felise, the girl that M. Renaud deposited with you some days ago, has mostly kept to herself, but she seems to be more comfortable speaking with you lately, emerging from the room you've given her for meals and occasional conversation.

• Felise joins you for tea one afternoon.
• Alma is probably also buying such services, or water importing, from her resources.

Narrator: (nod)

Felise: I wanted to thank you for your kindness to me, Sister. I hope I won’t have to impose upon you for long.

• Alma shakes her head dismissively. "It's not a problem. It's a terrible situation and I'm more than glad to help."

Felise: It’s just such a relief to be here...

• Alma takes a biscuit from the table to munch on with her tea.

Alma: Do you want to talk about it?

Felise: I don't know how much you've been told...?

Alma: M. Renaud told me that your mother and her husband are a part of a cult, and that ... there may be expectations of inappropriate behaviour from you, and that's why you've chosen to leave.

• Felise nods.

Felise: My father, may he find the Centre, passed away three years ago. He had been ill for some time, but the priests were able to do nothing.

Felise: After he died, my mother left the city, quite suddenly. My sister and I stayed with our uncle while she was gone, close to six months. She returned just as suddenly, without explanation, and Earric accompanied her.

Felise: They were married but a short while later. From the very beginning, things were... strange.

Felise: My brother quarreled with our new step-father, and Mother forbade him to return to the house.

Felise: It was around that time that they started their... cult, I suppose it is. They tried to persuade me to join, but I refused. My sister, however, was young and impressionable...

• Alma frowns sympathetically.

Alma: Where did it come from, the inspiration for this... cult?

Felise: I don't know. I assume that Earric put the idea into her head, but ... I'm not certain.

Alma: Where is he from?

Felise: He says he's from Aethalia.

Felise: Nowhere around here, anyhow.

Alma: Far to the east...

• Felise nods.

Felise: He's not of noble birth. He can pretend well enough, but he's not.

Alma: (24 Religion: Is that area outside the sway of the Church more than any other?)

Alma: Did your mother tell you much about her voyage? How she came to fall in love with him so quickly?

Narrator: (not that you know of, no. Could possibly have some influence from the Cozovode, perhaps?)

Felise: She spoke of it very little.

Felise: I don't even know why she left. It was very sudden.

Alma: Do you think she knew him beforehand?

Felise: As to how she fell in love with him... if you met him, perhaps it would be clear.

Felise: I don't believe so - I don't ever remember seeing him before, and if it was when I was very young or before I was born, he would only have been a child himself.

• Alma nods, glad the trip wasn't just for propriety's sake at least.

Alma: Your sister, she's caught up in all this? Do you think there's something we could do to help?

• Felise nods.

Felise: I walked into the music room a few months ago and saw her... kissing him. I slipped out again before they noticed me, I think. I don’t know if Mother knows.

Alma: :o

Alma: How old is she?

Felise: Seventeen.

Alma: How long has this ... cult business been going on?

Felise: Almost two years, I suppose.

Felise: He tried to kiss me too, but I wouldn’t let him.

Alma: What an awful man.

Felise: But sometimes I’d find him in my bedroom, even when I knew I’d locked the door. He never did anything more than smile and leave, but it was as if he was letting me know how... vulnerable I was.

• Alma looks angry.
• Felise seems relieved to have a sympathetic ear to share all of this.

Alma: It sounds like he took advantage of your mother's grief, and now he tries to take advantage of the both of you ::|

• Felise nods.

Felise: If he were gone, maybe things would go back to normal...

Alma: And he puts your sister's eternal soul at risk.

• Felise nods.

Felise: He seems to always know where she is.

Alma: Is he a sorceror?

Felise: That was part of the reason why we couldn't bring her... :/

Felise: A bard, I think.

Alma: (Spellcraft 24: bards can locate person etc, yes?)

Narrator: (yes)

Narrator: (you would know that LP is blocked by running water, and can be foiled by other spells)

Alma: Has anyone tried to block divination magically?

Alma: Or is it a little early for that...

Felise: I ... I'm not meant to talk about it, but I trust you, Sister. I have a necklace that keeps me from being located with magic.

Felise: My uncle had it, or bought it for this purpose, I'm not sure which.

• Felise feels at her neck - it must be under her clothing, since you can't see it.
• Alma nods.

Alma: Was your sister given one as well?

Alma: I'm sorry, her name was...?

Felise: There was only one, and ... to be truthful, I would have given it to Viviane, if I'd believed she would leave it on and not betray us :/

Felise: I don’t know what else I can do. I suppose if I married I would have someplace safe to go, but that seems a rather poor reason to wed, don’t you think? Even if anyone would have me :/

Alma: Nonsense. At our age, no one can tell us what to do or where to live. You don't need to marry yourself off. You can stay here while we work things out.

Alma: I'm glad you do have family who are helping you... I would like to get in touch with them, to see what else I might be able to do to help. I didn't get the whole story from M. Renaud previously.

Felise: You're too kind.

Felise: My brother, Ramon, is in the Order of the Spoke. I trust him implicitly. And our great-uncle, the Duke D'Olonne, has also been of great help - it was he who provided the necklace to hide me.

Alma: .oO( A duke on her side and they still can't manage to disentangle Viviane... )

Alma: Well, I'll get in touch and let them know that I'm at their disposal.

Felise: Thank you.

Alma: I am concerned as well with the issue of this cult... but I'd best consult with them, rather than worsen our chances helping Viviane.

Felise: I worry, though, that if their thoughts are read and they know where I am, it could be my undoing.

Alma: Oh... they don't know you are here?

Alma: Just M. Renaud?

Felise: I think that Ramon's friend... yes, M. Renaud - didn't tell him where I was being taken. I could be wrong about that, though.

Alma: I'll talk to him, then.

Felise: Thank you. I'm sure he can get word to Ramon that I'm safe.

Alma: You really think they'll come for you?

Felise: I think my mother is probably furious by now.

Felise: But I don't know what they might do.

Alma: Well, you're in the home of a priest of the Owl, and the Contesse de Béziers. They've no account to order you anywhere you don't want to go.

• Felise nods.

Felise: Thank you again, Sister. You've been very kind to me, someone you don't even know. I can never repay you.

Alma: I'm pleased to do it.

Narrator: Guillame, you find Aure's tales of the old days to be fascinating, and for someone who is so curmudgeonly, he doesn't seem to object to you coming to visit him from time to time.

• Guillame is glad
• Aure grumps a greeting at you.
• Guillame bows

Guillame: Hello sir

Aure: Hmph. No 'sirs' here, except you.

Guillame: Ah, yes, sorry.

Aure: Have a seat.

• Aure is outside in his small yard, and despite the heat it's reasonably comfortable there.
• Guillame sits eagerly.

Aure: Today I'll tell you the story of how our people came to live in the undercity.

Aure: It's an old tale, and probably mostly lies, but it's what we have.

• Guillame gets ready to make notes

Aure: Once, our people lived in the sunlit world.

Aure: But our queen, seeking power and glory for herself, committed a great act of betrayal - through trickery, she captured our god within the Arch, so that she might strive to take his place.

Aure: Outraged, our people turned against her, but failed. They were driven back, underground, where she could not find them.

Aure: However, this turned out to be a blessing in disguise, for it was only beneath the city that we learned that our god was not completely beyond our reach. There, we could still commune with him, after a fashion.

• Guillame nods

Aure: And it was there too that we found he had given us one last gift, a sign of our queen's betrayal - the gift of four feet.

Aure: In those days, rulers and high priests alone were granted the power to change their form. But when Rat was imprisoned, that power was stripped from our false leader and spread among his faithful people instead, to keep us safe.

Aure: At least, this is the story as I was taught it as a young acolyte. Now, I am no longer certain what to believe.

• Aure says, his voice full of bitterness.

Guillame: What made you stop believing it?

Aure: Now, the god is restored to his rightful place, and our people to theirs. And yet...

Aure: Why would he punish those who have served him faithfully all these long centuries? Remove his gift from the common folk, and bring us to this place where we are spat upon, where we will never be equals with the surface-dwellers?

Guillame: Well... I hope that one day, our people will be equals. But I'd agree it's not likely to be soon.

• Guillame sighs

Aure: In my darkest moments, I wonder if so long an imprisonment has driven our god mad, or if his will has been tainted by contact with the dark force within the Arch. For why else would our people come to this?

Guillame: How did you keep your magic? His gift?

Aure: There were very few of us left by the end, who could draw on his power. Some were so overjoyed that he had been freed that they gave up the old ways and took on new ones.

Aure: I don't know why I was permitted to keep these powers. Maybe they never came from him in the first place.

Aure: All I could think once he was freed was - if it could be done, why had none of us ever tried it, in those thousands of years? Why were we not the ones to do it?

Guillame: Maybe it has to do with the undercity itself? How quickly did everyone else lose it?

Guillame: So we knew he was trapped in the Arch?

Aure: So far as I know, immediately. My power to change form is not the same as it once was, either - it used to be, any of us could change as often as we needed, and now I'm only able to do it a few times a day.

• Aure nods to the Arch question.

Aure: Beneath the Down, there was the lower Arch. It was there that we drew our power.

Guillame: Oh - if people had lost it slowly, I wondered if the undercity itself might be a holy place, and that you might have kept your blessing by visiting.

Guillame: Nobody else seems to even think about going back...

Aure: Most who remember it are old now, like me. And perhaps it holds too many old memories, I don't know.

Narrator: From around the side of the house, a man approaches, perhaps about thirty years of age, with brown hair.

Guillame: There must...

Man: Grandfather, I...

Man: Oh, excuse me.

• Guillame trails off to watch the newcomer

Aure: Oh, come to see me at last, have you? The great Spokesman deigns to visit his feeble-minded old heretic of a grandfather.

• Aure says angrily.

Man: Not to be treated like this I haven’t.

• Man sets down a bag and a jug he was carrying on the ground.

Man: Not that you deserve this, but here.

• Man says before turning and walking off.
• Aure grumbles.
• Guillame stays politely quiet

Aure: Maybe you'd best be going now.

• Aure says in a calmer tone after a short while.

Guillame: As you wish - thank you again for helping me

• Aure nods.

Guillame: (In which direction did his son leave?)

Aure: You come back whenever you wish. At least you're interested in hearing an old man talk nonsense.

Narrator: Back around the side of the house, maybe off to the left? You didn't see after he rounded the corner.

• Guillame bows and leaves by his normal route

Narrator: Are you going to try and follow the grandson, or not pursue him?

• Guillame tries to head around to the road behind Aure's house, to see if he can tell where the grandson went

Narrator: You can spot him some distance up ahead and catch up if you run.

Guillame: (I am, but I'm not going to wander out Aure's back gate if I don't normally)

• Guillame will run to catch up

Narrator: ('k)

• Man turns as you approach.

Man: What is it?

Guillame: Hello... I'm sorry to chase you...

Guillame: I didn't get a chance to meet you...

Man: Oh.

• Guillame bows
• Man looks mildly surprised.

Man: Who are you?

Guillame: My name is Guillame Rionet, and Aure is helping me with some research for the Antiquarian Society

Man: Ah. I'm Loth.

• Loth_ offers his hand.
• Guillame will shake it

Guillame: Pleased to meet you, Loth

Loth_: I hope my grandfather hasn't been giving you any trouble.

Guillame: None at all, really - I don't want to pry, but I had gotten the impression from the colleague of mine who introduced us that he was more... obstinate than I'd found him to be. Seeing you two together, I see why she might have thought that...

Loth_: He can be difficult.

• Loth_ says in a tone of great understatement,

Guillame: I'm sorry to hear that. He does seem very... set in his ways, but that hasn't been a problem for me - it's the old ways that I'm researching, you see.

Loth_: Ah. Well, anyone who's willing to listen to him talk is already in his better graces than most of us, I suppose.

• Guillame nods

Loth_: I'm glad at least someone else is checking in on him every so often.

Loth_: I'm always afraid I'll get there and find he's been dead for two weeks.

Guillame: I'm sure you've heard all of his stories a million times, but it's fascinating for me to hear of our house's past.

• Loth_ nods.

Guillame: Maybe I should take your address? I can let you know if he takes ill, gods forbid.

Loth_: You can contact me most easily by way of the Spokesmen, I'm there more or less every day.

Guillame: I'll keep that in mind

Loth_: Please do let me know if you ever have any trouble with him, or if he takes ill, as you say.

Loth_: Farewell, M. Rionet.

Guillame: Have a nice day, Loth

• Loth_ departs, then.
• Guillame heads to the Society, to write up his notes.

• Ysabeau catches Ilphère some day not long after the announcement of her engagement.

Ilphere: Oh hello..!

• Ilphere is puttering around the library.

Ysabeau: Hi!

• Ysabeau smiles.

Ysabeau: They're letting you alone for a few minutes? Amazing!

• Ilphere shrugs...
• Ysabeau jokes about some of the other students who prolly ARE trying to become your new best friend.

Ilphere: Most of them are not interested in sharing me with dusty old books...!

Ysabeau: Dusty old books are your natural habitat, though. The sooner they realize that, the better.

Ilphere: Precisely...!

Ilphere: :)

Ysabeau: I wonder how much control the librarians could possibly have over a mob of your newfound fans? Hopefully the silence rule will still be enforceable.

Ilphere: Well, Coco is not without her wiles... She is a Castalia trained sorceress after all...!

Ysabeau: Speaking of which, I was hoping to draw upon your own sorcerous ways to help me with something.

Ilphere: Oh ...?

• Ysabeau nods.

Ysabeau: Do you remember my mentioning that one of my sister's friends had been murdered?

Ilphere: Oh yes... that was terrible...!

• Ysabeau nods.

Ysabeau: I have reason to believe that the same person who broke into my house was also linked to Dessa's murder.

Ilphere: Oh no...!

Ilphere: That is very unsettling news...!

Ysabeau: He was rifling through a chest in which I'd stored some of her things, but how could he have known where those things were if she hadn't told him or been forced to tell him?

Ysabeau: Anyway that is all beside the point.

Ysabeau: He didn't steal anything obvious...

Ysabeau: But there was this miniature portrait which is like a locket.

Ysabeau: Maybe something had been inside it, which he took?

Ysabeau: Say, maybe you might know who the subject of the portrait is... He was likely some House Wolf noble.

• Ysabeau will show it to you on the off-chance.
• Ilphere takes a look at it.

Ysabeau: Sister de Beziers and I took it to see Terceira d'Avin; she couldn't identify it.

Ilphere: Hmmm...

Ysabeau: But she suggested that if he had stolen anything from it, perhaps it was a lock of hair or something enclosed in there.

Ysabeau: So... I'm aware that some spells can use bits of people, like scrying spells...

Ilphere: Yes, that would make sense...

Ilphere: That's the most common use.

• Ilphere nods.

Ysabeau: But this man would have been born around 2150 or 2155.... he would likely be dead now.

Ysabeau: So I'm wondering what possible use a lock of his hair could be to someone with access to such spells?

Ilphere: 2150, 2155...

Ilphere: He looks familiar... I might have seen a portrait in someone's home. Or in a book... I have been looking at so many Rademachers lately...

Ysabeau: You think he's a Rademacher?

Ilphere: ...Perhaps Dominik might have seen it as well...

Ysabeau: What is it with them and mysteries...

• Ysabeau nods.

Ilphere: I am not sure, but ...

Ysabeau: I mean to show it to him as well.

• Ilphere shrugs.

Ilphere: As for a spell....!

• Ysabeau nods, that is the pith of the matter.

Ilphere: There are some rather unpleasant ones, but they wouldn't do much harm if the subject was already deceased.

Ilphere: There are only two other uses I can think of...

• Ysabeau nods.

Ilphere: To make a Simulacrum...

Ilphere: or...

Ilphere: ... well...

• Ysabeau waits patiently, used to Ilphere's idiosyncrasies by now.

Ilphere: It *is:*possible to cast a spell of Resurrection, even with only such a small piece of the body remaining... but that would be...

Ilphere: I'm sure it isn't that.

Ysabeau: Resurrection?

Ilphere: Yes... to raise the dead.

• Ilphere speaks in hushed tones.

Ysabeau: Well, what use would a Simulacrum be to anyone, if this fellow is dead already?

Ysabeau: They couldn't usurp his position with a little puppet.

Ilphere: I would not be able to tell you...

Ysabeau: Resurrection on the other hand might have its uses...

Ilphere: It is a terrible thing to speak of...

Ysabeau: I suppose that, once resurrected, you'd have all your old memories etc. back?

Ilphere: If you had a soul at all...!

Ilphere: How terrible, to be pulled from the cycle like that...

Ysabeau: :/

Ysabeau: Yes, I agree.

Ilphere: There is much speculation on what would happen... none of the options are good...

Ysabeau: But I need you to help me think now. Who'd benefit from resurrecting this person? I suppose it depends on who he actually is, which hasn't been established yet.

Ilphere: Exactly...

Ysabeau: Can you think of a Rademacher or a Kizer who was involved in something tremendous within the past 90 years?

Ysabeau: Or even just something highly suspicious.

Ilphere: I'm sure there are many...! O_o

• Ysabeau nods.

Ysabeau: Maybe I need to talk to the guards... but really, the best thing would be to figure out who exactly he is.

Ysabeau: Then everything else might fall into place.

Ysabeau: Well, I'll ask Dom next time I see him.

Ysabeau: Failing that then I know who else to ask.

Ilphere: Who?

Ilphere: You know...

Ysabeau: Why, the man who broke into my house, of course.

Ilphere: There was Martan Kizer.

Ilphere: He was fairly... infamous...?

Ilphere: And his Aunt, Empress Luxinie, who died under mysterious circumstances...

Ilphere: That's not him, though.

• Ilphere gestures to the locket.

Ysabeau: Oh, well, it's not likely to be him, then...

Ysabeau: Thanks so much, Ilph.

• Ysabeau gives you a hug.

Ilphere: If I think of anything else I'll tell you...!

Ysabeau: Please do!

Ysabeau: So... have you started thinking about your wedding gown, yet?

• Ysabeau switches to girl-talk. :D

Ilphere: Oh dear I don't know where to begin...!

Ilphere: My mother has gone completely out of her head over it though!

Ilphere: I think she is as thrilled as I...!

Ysabeau: She ought to be! It's not often you nobs get love-matches, is it?

Ilphere: ...Nobs?

• Ysabeau giggles.

Ysabeau: Short for nobles.

Ilphere: Oh I... see...

• Ilphere frowns slightly.

Ilphere: It's not a very *nice:*name, is it..!

Ilphere: :(

Ysabeau: Well... I never thought of it that way. It was just shorthand for 'noble' among the people I grew up with.

Ysabeau: But I suppose on reflection it is a synonym for 'knob', K-N-O-B, which could have negative connotations.

Ysabeau: So please accept my apology. I'll be sure not to use it again.

Ilphere: Quite...

Ilphere: Ah, that's quite alright...!

Ilphere: :)

• Ysabeau smiles too.

Ysabeau: So... wedding gowns.

Ysabeau: Please make sure it's something YOU can live with, dear Ilphère. I know the wedding is not just about you, but it SHOULD be.

Ilphere: You should see all the fabric samples and things Mother has brought home...!

Ysabeau: So don't let anyone talk you into anything you despise.

Ilphere: I won't...!

Ilphere: :)

Ysabeau: Good. :)

Ysabeau: And flowers...

Ysabeau: I suppose since it's a triple wedding you might not have a whole lot of say in the colour theme.

Ilphere: I'm not sure what it is, yet...

Ysabeau: But please DON'T let the Emperor and his bride walk ALL over you and your groom.

Ilphere: To be honest... I hardly care about my dress... I still can't believe I'm actually being allowed to marry Menard!

Ysabeau: 'Allowed'... :(

Ysabeau: I am sorry, that is just so sad.

Ysabeau: Your life is so different from mine.

Ilphere: I don't feel sad...!

Ilphere: I am sure even in your world many people cannot be with the one they love...

Ilphere: Maybe the reasons are different...

Ysabeau: I'll agree, tentatively, that many can't be... but that is not the same as MOST, which is how it appears to work amongst the higher classes.

Ysabeau: Anyway, I am just SOOOOOOOOOO glad that it all worked out well for you.

Ysabeau: :D

Ysabeau: I hated the idea of you being married to some stuffy fellow old enough to have sired you.

Ilphere: As did I...!

Ilphere: I do not know what changed, and I am not fool enough to think that Marl will treat me *kindly:*now, but...

Ilphere: I have teeth of my own..!

• Ysabeau grins.

Ysabeau: Excellent, that's the spirit!

Ysabeau: Hopefully you won't have to live anywhere near him, most of the time. There must be all sorts of country estates where you can stockpile your own library and study to your heart's content.

Ilphere: Yes... I hope to go and visit Alarches again, as well...

Ysabeau: Is Alarches very pretty?

Ilphere: Well, I remember it being so... it has been a long time!

• Ysabeau smiles.

Ysabeau: I miss the mountains in Greywatch, too.

Ysabeau: Ah well, some day when I am a famous musician perhaps I'll go on tour. ;)

Ysabeau: Then I can stop off in Alarches while you're there, and in Val des Fentes, as well. See if it's as pretty as I remember.

Ilphere: Alarches is on a peninsula in the south... it's surrounded by the sea.

Ysabeau: Oh, lovely!

Ysabeau: I've only seen paintings of the sea. It must be magical in person.

Ilphere: Well you shall *have:*to come, then!

Ysabeau: Plan on it! :D

• Sanadhil will also seek out Ilphère, probably in the library

Ilphere: (sounds good)

• Sanadhil comes in and looks around, then hunts you down in the back stacks

Sanadhil: Ilphère, perfect!

Ilphere: Hello!

• Sanadhil says, quiet but excited
• Ilphere calls cheerfully.

Sanadhil: I've been trying to find you - I expect you've been busy with other matters...

• Ilphere laughs lightly

Sanadhil: but I have some news I think you'll find very exciting!

Ilphere: A little...!

Ilphere: Oh...?

Sanadhil: I spoke with mr. Argo the other day.

• Ilphere looks at you expectantly...

Sanadhil: We found it!

Sanadhil: The 'thin place - the passage to the Shadow plane.

Ilphere: Oh!

Ilphere: Truly...?!

Ilphere: Where is it..?

Ilphere: :o

• Ilphere rushes over to you.

Sanadhil: We haven't passed through - not completely in any case, as it seemed unwise with just the two of us

Sanadhil: But we'd liek to plan a larger expedition, through the society

Ilphere: Oh what a wonderful idea...!

Ilphere: I would love to come along... if that's alright...?

Sanadhil: It is in Rhenea in an alley calle 'Sarah's Knell"

Sanadhil: Oh course! you were the first one I thought of.

Ilphere: Sarah's Knell...

Ilphere: Charming...!

Ilphere: When can we go?

Sanadhil: mr. Argo is looking for a paper he'd read concerning the name of the aley, but really, yes, once you say it aloud it does have a fitting ring to it, i thnk

Sanadhil: I'm not certain. I woudl liek to speak to Mlle Grenrake about what reources the Society might have for such things

Ilphere: Who else do you think might be interested...?

Sanadhil: Mlle L'Averti, of course. I don't know, but it is likely to be dangerous as well, which may attract some, and put off others...

Sanadhil: Mr. Argo was interested in having thr Countess de Béziers come along

• Ilphere nods...

Sanadhil: I think he hopes to find some link to the missing contruct he spoke about

Ilphere: I have heard she has some special powers of insight...

• Sanadhil nods

Sanadhil: its true, she can learn things from objects, and also places

Sanadhil: about their owners, and such things

Ilphere: Well, I have been studying diligently; I feel that my powers should provide me a decent defense...!

• Sanadhil nods

Sanadhil: the more expertise we have on he planes the better, I expect

Ilphere: I agree...!

Sanadhil: hopefully it will be soon, in any case.

Sanadhil: I thought you would like to hear about it as soon as possible

Ilphere: Oh thank you...!

Ilphere: This will be ever so exciting..!

Sanadhil: I'm quite looking forward to it myself, yes

Ilphere: Dominik will have to come...

• Ilphere muses.
• Sanadhil nods

Ilphere: I'm sure he will find it amusing, though...@

Ilphere: !

Sanadhil: I expected that

Sanadhil: well, I'm sure he'll be enthused about the possibility of danger, at least

Ilphere: Precisely!

• Sanadhil nods

Sanadhil: Your arrangements are all coming along well?

Sanadhil: (nm ;p)

Ilphere: Oh yes, I am a bit overwhelmed but... happily so!

Ilphere: (blah blah blah weddings :)

Sanadhil: (yes.... there was something I was angling at tell you, but we can wait ;p)

Narrator: Ilphere, since the news of your engagement has spread, there has been a dramatic upsurge in visitors delivering their congratulations to your home.

Narrator: Distant relatives and old friends who have long avoided your family are suddenly eager to renew your acquaintance, for some reason. And elite members of high society are paying polite social calls and issuing invitations of their own.

Narrator: Your parents, faced with the prospect of increased scrutiny of your circumstances, have made a number of rather dramatic changes.

Narrator: They have hired a butler, cook, housekeeper, groom, and two maids-of-all-work, for starters.

Ilphere: (oh dear :/)

Narrator: It would simply not do for important people to arrive at your home and not have their horses cared for, the door opened for them, and refreshments served in a lovely, well-decorated salon!

Narrator: Most of your family's best furnishings have long since been sold, of course, but the few pieces remaining have been spruced up and repaired, and it seems that each time you come into the sitting room you find some new carpet, chair, or decoration.

Narrator: It is very disconcerting - your house hardly seems like home any longer!

Narrator: A dressmaker and milliner have also been commissioned to furnish you with a more suitable wardrobe, and your mother is also taking advantage of their services to spruce up her own wardrobe, which is some years out of fashion to say the least!

Ilphere: . o O ( Oh my! )

• Justine seems quite cheerful about the whole situation, but your father has been somewhat strained, feigning good cheer only with your guests and otherwise withdrawing to his study or else leaving the house entirely.
• Cordovera also seems disconcerted by the many changes.
• Cordovera alternates between thinking it is some seventy years ago, when she first came to the house as a new bride, and being unable to even find her way to her rooms or accusing the new maid of stealing her jewels (most of which were sold years ago).

Ilphere: . o O ( Poor Grand-Mere... )

Justine: My dear...

• Justine says to you one afternoon.

Ilphere: Yes mother...?

Ilphere: :)

Justine: The duke and duchess of Rufisque are coming over to tea this afternoon. Of course they'll want to meet you, but... do you suppose you could possibly make sure that your great-grandmother is safely, ah, taken care of?

Justine: It wouldn't do for her to cause a scene, and she hates the new maids... I was hoping you could pour her a drink of sherry in her room, talk to her a few minutes, and maybe she'll nod off.

Ilphere: Well... I am always happy to talk to Grand-Mère...

• Justine seems relieved.

Ilphere: I think if she is happier she will get used to things more quickly...!

Justine: Oh, I'm certain! It will only be a few months before everything will be sorted out, I'm sure.

Ilphere: Perhaps not even so long as that...!

• Ilphere says hopefully.

Justine: I hope so, dear.

Justine: I know she can be difficult, so just let me know if you need any help.

Ilphere: I am sure it will be fine... :)

• Cordovera is currently in what used to be the library, browsing through the few books that remain.
• Ilphere will go and spend some time with her great-grandmother.
• Ilphere taps on the door frame lightly...
• Cordovera doesn't hear you.

Ilphere: Hallo, Grand-Mère...!

• Ilphere calls.
• Cordovera looks up.

Cordovera: Hm? What is it?

• Ilphere smiles genially.

Ilphere: Oh, well... I wondered if you might want to sit and have a drink with me...? It has been so busy lately here...!

Cordovera: Oh, of course dear.

Cordovera: Is it afternoon already?

• Ilphere nods.

Ilphere: I brought some of Father's sherry... :)

• Cordovera perks up slightly at that.

Cordovera: Jacobin always keeps the good stuff locked away in his study.

• Ilphere holds up a pair of glasses and the bottle.
• Cordovera will accept a glass.
• Ilphere leaves the 'Jacobin' thing alone and pours them each a glass.

Cordovera: So, what are you working on now, dear? You're always so busy, I hardly see you anymore.

Ilphere: Well, I'm still researching into extraplanar influences on our own world...

Ilphere: But I have some side projects as well...

Ilphere: Actually... perhaps you can help me...?

Cordovera: Me?

Ilphere: Well, a friend of mine found this locket, and she was trying to determine its provenance.

Ilphere: It's a keepsake one, the kind where there is a portrait on the front...

Cordovera: Oh?

Ilphere: It's someone from house Wolf, who might have been around your age, but we can't identify him...

• Ilphere describes the painting as best she can.

Cordovera: I don't know, dear. Maybe if I saw it... but even then, I don't know... my eyes aren't what they used to be.

Ilphere: Well, perhaps she can bring it by some time... It's my friend Ysabeau, do you remember her...? :)

Cordovera: Of course, dear.

• Cordovera says politely.
• Cordovera takes a sip of her sherry and suddenly spits it out, throwing the glass aside.

Cordovera: They're trying to poison me!

Ilphere: Grandmother...?!

• Ilphere sniffs her own glass.

Narrator: It smells fine to you.

Ilphere: What do you mean...?

Cordovera: They want me out of the way, I know they do!

• Ilphere tastes a little bit.

Narrator: Tastes fine too.

Ilphere: No, of course they don't...!

Ilphere: We all love you...!

• Ilphere says earnestly, trying to soothe her.

Cordovera: To think our family should come to this!

Ilphere: But Grand-Mère... I am to marry the Prince-Imperial... What can you mean...?

Cordovera: Oh... oh..

Cordovera: I'm sorry, my dear. I forget these things.

Ilphere: It's alright... :)

Cordovera: Of course, you'll be so happy together, I'm sure.

Ilphere: I certainly think so... I am very much looking forward to the wedding...!

Cordovera: But Carole... I know she would be happier if I were dead, so the title would be free...

• Cordovera frets.
• Cordovera shakes her head slightly.

Cordovera: I don't know what's come over me.

Ilphere: You're just tired, probably... :)

• Cordovera nods.

Ilphere: Some days I don't know whether I'm coming or going...!

Cordovera: Oh, my dear, I know how you feel.

• Cordovera takes your arm companionably to walk to her room.
• Ilphere is happy to walk with her.

Cordovera: You're a good girl. So kind.

Ilphere: Well, thank you... I do love you, Grand-Mère... I only want to see you happy, as well..! :)

• Cordovera lets herself be put to bed.
• Ilphere will gently help her to get settled.

Cordovera: Thank you, Zephirine...

Ilphere: (ok now who is *that*)

Cordovera: (that you have no idea ;)

Ilphere: . o O ( *sigh:*)

• Ilphere makes a mental note to ask her father about that later.
• Cordovera nods off, leaving you to go to tea.
• Ilphere quietly heads downstairs to the salon.

Narrator: Sanadhil, in the current hot weather, you find your attic study quite stifling, despite your relatively cool elven garb.

Narrator: On this day, you venture out around the dinner hour, seeking perhaps a breeze or a cool drink somewhere.

• Sanadhil will try and find a place that seems somewhat suitable

Sanadhil: . o ( Ugh... )

Narrator: Taverns are doing a brisk business, it would seem - you have heard that the local wells are running dry, and so many people are drinking ale and wine to quench their thirst instead.

Narrator: Ale made from river-water at least covers the taste...

Sanadhil: . o ( and ugh again... )

• Sanadhil thinks he will stick with wine

Narrator: One establishment not too far from your house, the Thimblefull, has set up some tables and benches outside in the adjoining courtyard, which allows patrons to sit in the shade and enjoy what little breeze there is.

• Sanadhil will stop there, then, and order some wine and maybe somethng to eat of they have anything appealing and non-meat

Narrator: Some perhaps lacklustre fruit? There's vegetable soup, but you never know when they might have thrown in a hambone or something ;)

Sanadhil: (lack luster fruit it is -_-)

Narrator: You sit in a shady corner and try to avoid the other patrons, but it's difficult, as the place is somewhat crowded.

Narrator: A young couple are seated across the way from you, engaged in quiet conversation. But the girl keeps looking over at you in a somewhat disconcerting way.

• Sanadhil will give her a 'stop that its rude' look next time he catcher her looking at him

Sanadhil: . o ( Today..... today I hate this city ::| )

Sanadhil: (She doesn't look familiar at all, does she?)

• Young_woman appears to be about twenty years old or so, with long wavy brown hair, quite short and slim and pretty.
• Young_woman ‘s companion is a young man of about the same age, with red hair and freckles.
• Young_woman keeps glancing in your direction, brow furrowed, and finally she stands to approach you.

Narrator: Hm... maybe?

Young_woman: Excuse me. I don’t mean to intrude, but ... you remind me of someone I used to know.

Young_woman: Is your name... is it by any chance Tristan?

• Sanadhil blinks

Sanadhil: No.

Narrator: Could it be... Taralynn? You're not sure, after so many years...

Young_woman: Oh. I'm sorry to have bothered you :/

Sanadhil: Ahh well - I suppose there's only so many of us around.

• Young_woman nods a bit sadly.

Young_woman: And of course you don't all know each other.

Sanadhil: Indeed, that would be very unlikely.

Young_woman: Well, thank you anyway.

• Sanadhil nods

Sanadhil: Was he from the city?

Young_woman: Hm? Oh, no, he was someone I knew when I was a child.

• Sanadhil nods again.

Young_woman: I haven't seen him in about seven or eight years, though.

Sanadhil: He could have changed quite a bit, then.

Young_woman: Well, I suppose we all have.

• Young_woman says with a hint of a smile.

Sanadhil: indeed...

• Young_woman has a chipped left front tooth. You remember when she got it, falling out of a tree when you were supposed to be at your studies.

Sanadhil: . o ( Dead to me........ )

• Sanadhil smiles back in a way he hopes is politely sympathetic, but also reserved

Young_woman: Sorry to have interrupted your meal, Monsieur...?

Sanadhil: Sanadhìl Orecalo

Young_woman: Nice talking to you, at any rate, M. Orecalo.

Sanadhil: You as well, mlle...?

Young_woman: Taralynn Pine.

• Sanadhil nods

Sanadhil: (doesn't correct me on the mlle? And Pine wasn't always he last name, was it?)

Narrator: (No, and you didn't make up a name for her that I could find.)

Sanadhil: (No, i didn't think I did, but that doesn't mean you couldn't have retroactiely given her one ;) I just wanted to know if it was new to me)

Narrator: (Probably at the orphanage they didn't bother to give you lot surnames ;)

Sanadhil: (Right)

Narrator: (So this is either a married name or one she's assumed since she left there.)

Sanadhil: (right)

Sanadhil: have a good evening

Taralynn: You too.

• Taralynn will return to her companion, then.
• Sanadhil will wait until she is distracted and cast detect thoughts ;p
• Taralynn and the guy she's with resume their conversation.

Narrator: What's the save DC?

Sanadhil: (16 or 17 if she doens't see it coming)

Sanadhil: (er no, 17 or 18)

Narrator: Okay, you succeed.

Taralynn: . o O (Strange... looks so much like him...)

Taralynn: . o O (Tristan must be all right, though, somewhere.)

• Sanadhil stares in to the bottom of his wine

Taralynn: . o O (Should leave... this is sort of awkward.)

• Taralynn and her companion will depart shortly after.
• Sanadhil will casually watch them leave.... and order another wine

Narrator: Seth, of course you have heard the news about Menard's engagement. It's not surprising that it takes him a while to tell you about it himself...

Narrator: Where have you been staying, anyhow?

• Seth has mostly been sleeping at the Society.
• Seth hopes no one has noticed.
• Menard will track you down there, then.

Menard: Hey, uh, Seth?

Seth: Oh ... hey!

Seth: They let you out finally?

Menard: Yeah, well, for a little while at least.

Menard: You're hard to track down.

Seth: Well, you know, we Argos are very cunning.

Seth: Also I haven't been at Father's house or at Vereth's.

Menard: Right.

• Menard wrinkles his nose.

Menard: Have you been sleeping here?

Seth: Uh ... well, sometimes.

Seth: There are also some inns here that have cheap rooms.

Menard: If you need a place to stay, I can probably figure something out.

Seth: Uhh ... well, I don't want to impose ...

Menard: No, really, it's fine.

Menard: There's way more room than we need at the palace.

Seth: I, uh ... well, thanks. I probably should have some sort of actual residence.

Menard: A palace is a residence. It's THE residence!

• Menard says cheerfully.

Seth: Yeah ...

Seth: So I guess you must be pretty happy about how things turned out.

Menard: Oh, yeah.

Menard: Well, it's all kind of weird, but yes.

Seth: Weird?

Menard: I just don't really know what happened.

Menard: All of a sudden, Marl changed his mind? I don't know.

Seth: Oh ... I think maybe I know the answer to that. Maybe.

Seth: Your grandfather stepped in, I think.

Menard: Oh.

Menard: I didn't think Marl would listen to him.

Seth: Well, I dunno. Errivan Escalera has quite a story to tell about his mother's death.

Menard: And ... I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy that Ilphere and I will be married, but ... I don't think I know her as well as I thought I did.

Seth: What do you mean?

Menard: Well, I guess she's in some sort of a cult. Which is okay, I mean, it's not like I'm really religious or anything.

Seth: A cult?

Menard: She says she's studying them.

Menard: I don't know.

Seth: Oh, well, *that:*wouldn't surprise me.

Menard: I hear they have orgies and stuff, though.

• Menard looks somewhat embarassed.

Seth: She'd study anything relating to the outer planes and outsiders and weird magic stuff.

• Menard nods.

Menard: And how do the orgies fit in, then?

Seth: I don't know ... but wait. Are you seriously complaining that your new, incredibly attractive fiancée may be into all kinds of kinky sex?

Seth: Because that's just not fair.

Menard: I don't know!

Seth: Can I get an invitation? :)

Menard: I don't know - probably?

• Seth laughs.

Menard: But I... I don't want to embarrass myself in front of her, since she's so much more experienced.

Menard: Is she going to expect me to know what I'm doing? :o

Seth: Oh ... you know, I don't think she's like that. She's always a little bit ... well, at the Society, at least, she is not one of those super-confident types.

Menard: BECAUSE I DON'T.

Menard: Well, that was what I always thought too.

Seth: And let's not exaggerate, here - you've talked about any number of your conquests with me ... you're hardly an innocent in all this.

Menard: ...i might have exaggerated... a little...

Seth: ... a little?

Menard: Some.

Seth: OH VOID YOU'RE NOT A VIRGIN ARE YOU?

Menard: Ah. What counts, technically?

Seth: OH VOID YOU *ARE*!

Menard: I'm not!

Menard: Not exactly!

• Seth starts laughing uncontrollably.

Menard: Shut up :p

Seth: Do you ... bwhahahahaha ...

Menard: We don't all have middle-aged women throwing themselves at us :p

Seth: ... do you know how often I've compared myself to you?

Menard: Why? :o

Seth: Well, because you're ... noble, and rich, and have women lusting after you, and ... all that!

Seth: You're Menard *Kizer*! Now Prince Imperial Menard!

Menard: Yeah.

Menard: Well, it's not exactly all it's cracked up to be.

Seth: You know what you need? You need an Argo to keep your life in perspective.

Menard: At least you don't have servants waiting to hand you your clothes in the morning and tuck you in at night.

Menard: Oh, is that what you're for?

Seth: My lover is now decidedly my ex-lover, my father despises me and has disowned me, and I've been living here at the Society while turning down offers of money and help. I think I win in the 'whose life sucks the most' competition.

Menard: ...Yeah, okay.

Menard: Did your father really disown you?

Seth: Yes.

Menard: They just said you weren't in when I tried there.

Seth: I told him I wanted to work for your grandfather instead of being an architect. Apparently that was not a wise thing to say.

Menard: Oh.

Seth: Also I may have told him about Vereth.

Menard: >_<

Menard: What were you thinking?

Seth: I wanted to make him mad.

Seth: Apparently when I decide to get stupid, I get *really:*stupid.

Menard: Yeah, I guess so!

Seth: You should bear that in mind if you choose to make me your official Argo adviser.

Menard: So, you'll do it?

Seth: Do what?

Menard: Come to the palace?

Menard: I can give you some position if it makes you feel more important.

Seth: Ah ... well, I don't know ... it's ... yeah, I guess.

Menard: Great!

Menard: So get your stuff- we can go now :)

Seth: Ah ... okay?

• Seth has no idea what to say.

Menard: I'm just... I'm really happy you're coming, Seth.

• Menard gives you an unexpected hug.

Seth: . o O (Oh void ... oh what the void is going on ... oh oh oh)

• Menard sniffs you again.

Seth: Ahh ... thanks, Menard. You're a ... good friend.

Menard: Especially because it means you'll be able to take a bath :p

Menard: Come on :)

Seth: I bought this perfume that was supposed to cover that up ... it didn't work so well though.

• Menard laughs at you.

Seth: Hey, at least I'm not a wide-eyed innocent!

Menard: Fuck you :p

• Menard will take you to the waiting carriage and whisk you away to a new life, then ;)

Narrator: Ysabeau, you intend to try and track down the mysterious Vescan Corriveau. What is your plan?

• Ysabeau was going to first see if Dom would be willing/able to accompany her for safety in numbers.
• Dominik shrugs "sure why not"
• Ysabeau was then going to revert to her streetwise ways and question people in Rhenea/The Shambles/Pearl City to see if they know how to get in touch with Vescan.

Ysabeau: (City Lore/Gather Information?)

Narrator: You can roll.

• Dominik recommends leaning over alot... men will tell you lots if you lean over.

Ysabeau: (utter fail. what month is this?)

Narrator: 8th.

Ysabeau: (sweet, I can reroll)

Narrator: ('k)

Ysabeau: (15, slightly better but still not great)

Ysabeau: You don't have to tell ME that, Dom...

Ysabeau: But I'd rather not resort to such measures if possible. I'm trying to convince the world, and myself, that I'm NOT a whore anymore.

Narrator: You note that Ninon de Quercy, typically to be found at the Bonemire, is supposed to be Tatiane Corriveau's grand-daughter. If this Vescan Corriveau is also a relative of hers, or even if he's just pretending to be, she might know him.

• Ysabeau is less pleased by that news than might be expected, but has to make do with what she has.

Ysabeau: Before we go, Dom, could you please have a look at this miniature portrait?

Dominik: ok

• Dominik takes a look

Ysabeau: Does the subject look at all like anyone in any of your own family's portraits?

Dominik: (does it?)

Ysabeau: I think knowing who he is is key to figuring out why Dessa is dead.

Narrator: It doesn't look like any of the portraits you've seen at your family's house, though maybe there is a certain resemblance to some of your relatives.

Dominik: Could be a relative... but honestly, I dont really keep track of that kind of stuff

Ysabeau: I know.

• Ysabeau smiles.

Ysabeau: I remember from Ilph's vision.

Ysabeau: It was worth a try, though.

Ysabeau: Okay, so we are heading into a situation that could be kind of sticky.

Dominik: sounds fun. glad I decided to come along

Ysabeau: See, Dessa used to run with de Quercy's gang, but de Quercy may be the only one who can tell me where to track down Vescan, if he's related. But IF they're related then there is always the possibility that de Quercy is in on this plot WITH Vescan.

Ysabeau: Or even if they're not related, I suppose it's a possibility.

Ysabeau: Anyway, I hope de Quercy didn't betray Dessa's trust.

Ysabeau: Shall we go, then?

Dominik: sure thing

• Ysabeau puts on a rather more brave face for this than she feels.
• Ysabeau heads off towards the Bonemire.

Narrator: The ground around the Bonemire, usually swampy, is actually quite dry, with the river so low, so your arrival there is less messy than it might otherwise have been.

Narrator: The ruined temple is quiet, so far as you can tell.

Ysabeau: So... I've been here once before with Muri to chat with Dessa, and that was fine. But I AM sticking my nose into something that is probably none of my business (except that they made it my business by killing Dess) so I guess we should just be alert for any sign that this is going south.

• Dominik nods

Dominik: you always take me to such wonderful places.

Ysabeau: Got to keep your life interesting.

Narrator: Listen checks, please.

Dominik: (8)

Ysabeau: (16)

Narrator: Ysa, you hear some movement within the structure.

Ysabeau: :w: Hear that?

• Dominik shakes his head no

Ysabeau: (Can I tell how many?)

• Ysabeau describes where she heard the sound from in a subdued voice so Dom is aware.

Narrator: (a few? More than two, less than ten, probably)

Girl: Hold it there.

• Girl 's voice says from somewhere above you.
• Dominik looks for the source

Ysabeau: Sure thing. We're just here to talk with Ninon, no ill intentions.

Narrator: Dom, you can see the girl now that you look - she's perched up on the top of what's left of the building's roof.

Narrator: She's got a crossbow aimed at you, too.

Dominik: :m: how polite

Girl: Ninon!

• Girl calls cautiously.
• Ysabeau waits patiently.
• Ninon steps out into the sunlight. She is in her mid-twenties, short and slender, with short red hair, wearing leather armor and holding a crossbow of her own, though it's pointed to the ground.

Ninon: What do you want?

Ysabeau: I want to show you a portrait, see if you know who it is, and ask you about a possible relative of yours.

Ninon: ...

Ysabeau: (I will SM for lies or anything like that for this whole conversation)

Ninon: You can ask away.

Ysabeau: Well, here's the portrait first.

• Ysabeau extends it to her and watches for her reaction, if any.
• Ninon glances at it.

Ninon: Never seen it before in my life.

Ysabeau: (SM? I rolled a 15 myself.)

Narrator: (You don't think she's lying.)

Ysabeau: Do you know who it might be? The man in the portrait?

Ninon: Some noble? Probably a dead one, by the age.

• Ysabeau nods. (I assume from here on you'll tell me if she lies or whatever. :) )

Narrator: (yep)

Ysabeau: Fair enough.

Ysabeau: May I have it back?

• Ninon tosses it back to you.
• Ysabeau catches it.

Ysabeau: Do you know anyone named Vescan?

• Ysabeau watches her reaction.
• Ninon makes a slightly sour face.

Ninon: What are you looking for *him:*for?

Ysabeau: He broke into my house some time ago. He was rifling through a chest in which this portrait was stored. Nothing went missing, unless there had been something inside the locket compartment of this portrait.

Ysabeau: I just want to know what he took.

Ninon: Good luck with that.

Ysabeau: Do you know where I can start looking for him?

Ninon: Try the Magpie, if you're serious.

Ysabeau: (City lore if necessary - what is the Magpie?)

Narrator: A tavern in Rhenea.

Ninon: No need to tell him I sent you, though.

Ysabeau: Is there some friction between the two of you?

Dominik: . o O (at least it will be a slightly better venue)

Ninon: He's my brother. Also, he's an idiot.

Ysabeau: I can agree with that.

• Dominik chuckles

Ysabeau: How have things been since Dessa died?

Ninon: We're being careful. No further losses, anyhow.

• Ysabeau nods.

Ysabeau: Do you know why she was killed?

Ninon: Because I pissed someone off.

Ninon: But feel free to ask Vescan about that.

Ysabeau: He works for that someone?

• Ninon shrugs.

Ysabeau: The reason I ask is that this portrait belonged to Dessa.

Ninon: He'll tell you what he wants you to hear. I'm not going to rat out my little brother, even if he *is:*an idiot.

Ninon: ...

Ysabeau: She left it with me for safekeeping.

Ninon: Huh.

Ysabeau: He broke into my house right around when she was found dead.

Ysabeau: I don't know how he'd have known where to look for her things unless she'd told him, or been forced to tell him.

Ninon: She could have... I don't know.

• Ysabeau nods.

Ninon: She was trying to get out - I wish she'd picked a different way.

• Ysabeau nods.

Ysabeau: Me too. My sister and I miss her a lot.

• Ninon nods.

Ysabeau: So anyway, if anything else comes to mind about Dessa or her death, will you let me know?

Ninon: I'll ask around.

Ninon: How can I contact you?

Ysabeau: Thanks. Garlan - he still run with you?

• Ninon smiles slightly at that.\

Ninon: Sure, he's not going anywhere.

Ysabeau: He can get in touch with us - him or his mother.

Ninon: All right.

Ninon: Take care.

Ysabeau: You too. I'll let you know if I learn anything.

• Ninon nods and disappears back into the temple.

Narrator: The Magpie is a somewhat seedy tavern in Rhenea, built up against what remains of the walls of the old city.

Dominik: Well thats was exciting... wonder what this place will be like

Ysabeau: Sorry that there was no action for a man of action, Dom.

Ysabeau: I for one am just as glad. I do value my skin intact.

Ysabeau: I've no idea what the Magpie will be like. Maybe it will be more exciting.

Dominik: days not over yet... there may be action yet to come.

• Ysabeau laughs.

Ysabeau: Perhaps.

• Ysabeau heads to the Magpie.

Narrator: You make your way there - it's probably mid-afternoon by the time you arrive.

Narrator: Seated outside, on a bench against the old city wall, is the red-haired young man you last saw rifling through your house, Vescan Corriveau. With him is a woman, somewhat older, maybe mid-thirties, with a mass of frizzy blonde hair.

Narrator: Dom, you recognize her as 'Theo', your contact in the Hush. She nods politely to you, but doesn't give any obvious signs that she knows you.

• Ysabeau walks up to Vescan.
• Dominik promptly ignores her
• Vescan grins as he sees you approach.

Ysabeau: Hello, Vescan. Just the man I'm looking for.

Vescan: Hello, beautiful Ysabeau. Fancy seeing you here.

Ysabeau: (Now that I can see him again is there ANYTHING about him that is familiar - as being someone I might have met long ago or something?)

• Dominik narrows his eyes at the comment

Narrator: Well, he looks somewhat like Ninon, you can tell that much, especially now that you know they're related. Other than that, no.

Narrator: Dom, however - something about this guy seems oddly familiar.

Ysabeau: Oh, you flatterer. You got away with that kind of talk once but I'm not so easily swayed this time. For one, it is not the middle of the night, I have not just been startled by loud and unexpected noises in my parlour, and I am fully awake.

Narrator: Something about the shape of his face, his colouring, his build... you're not quite sure what it is.

• Vescan smiles at you.
• Ysabeau will use Sense Motive AND cast Detect Thoughts as she pulls out the portrait.
• Dominik ponders where he knows this person.

Narrator: (he will see you casting...)

Ysabeau: (It does have a somatic component, doesn't it. :P I can't just hum a snippet of song and make it happen, darn)

Ysabeau: (Ok, hold off on the Detect Thoughts for now)

Ysabeau: (24 on my SM, Take that you cock!)

Ysabeau: Have you seen this before, by any chance?

• Ysabeau passes him the portrait.

Vescan: Certainly. It was in your chest.

Ysabeau: It certainly was.

Ysabeau: I didn't notice anything missing. But then I realized this opens. Did you take something from inside it?

Vescan: Yes.

Ysabeau: May I ask what?

Vescan: A small piece of paper, wrapped around a lock of hair.

• Ysabeau nods.

Vescan: Are you going to try and have me arrested again? :)

Ysabeau: I seriously doubt the guards would arrest someone for stealing a lock of hair.

Vescan: You're probably right there.

Ysabeau: No, I was just curious. Do you know who this man is? He has lovely green eyes. I suppose he must be long dead by now, though...

Vescan: I wish I knew. I don't think he's who he says he is, though. He's got lying eyes, don't you think?

Ysabeau: If I knew who he says he is, I might be able to answer that.

Ysabeau: Was it written down, perhaps, on that slip of paper around that lock of hair?

• Vescan smiles.

Vescan: He says he's Leonien Kizer. But you can't trust those Wolves, can you ;)

Ysabeau: Oh, His Majesty's grandfather?

• Vescan nods.

Ysabeau: How fascinating.

Vescan: But clearly, he's an older gentleman than that, I should say.

Vescan: Unless milord had a taste for stealing from his father's wardrobe.

Ysabeau: Curiouser and curiouser.

Ysabeau: You've given me much food for thought, Vescan.

Narrator: Dom, you've been trying to figure out where you recognize him from, when it comes to you - cut his hair and he reminds you of that guy you met a while ago, Avery what's-his-face.

Dominik: (the guy from the bar)

Narrator: (that's right)

Dominik: (thats what I thought)

Narrator: (not him, but looks like him)

Vescan: I'm glad I could help, Ysabeau.

Ysabeau: Ah, I'm not done just yet.

Ysabeau: I am trying to imagine what you could possibly want with a lock of the Emperor's grandfather or great-grandfather's hair?

Vescan: I? Nothing.

Ysabeau: Supposing that the provenance of the hair was indeed from one of those worthies.

Ysabeau: Oh, you secured it for someone else, then? Some collector of dead peoples' hair?

Vescan: I answer to a higher authority. What they want with the item in question, is not my place to inquire.

Ysabeau: Oh, you are nothing but a dog, then. I understand.

Ysabeau: Well, thank you for your time, Vescan. A pleasure as always.

• Vescan chuckles.
• Ysabeau curtseys to him and to his companion.

Dominik: Just curious, since you read the paper, what else did it say?

Vescan: Think me a dog if it pleases you, milady. I'm content to serve my Empire.

Vescan: A love note, nothing more.

Dominik: shame

• Dominik looks to Ysabeau to head off if she's done

Ysabeau: (While Dom was distracting him could I have got off that Detect Thoughts?)

Narrator: (it involves making noise - I mean, you can try it, but he's likely to notice as you're only standing a few feet away from him)

Ysabeau: (Well, it's a Bard spell so the noise is just a bit of a song or something, isn't it?)

Narrator: (right, but people in D know that random singing is not always just random singing ;)

Ysabeau: (I'm going to risk it; I'll turn away and gaze with interest at someone random on the street to try to cover it up a bit more)

Narrator: (make a Bluff check)

Ysabeau: (ugh, only an 11.)

Narrator: (sec,checking something)

Ysabeau: ('Cause although people may know that a song isn't always just a song, they can't be leaping with weapons bared at everyone who hums a little tune, either, can they)

• Theo_ casts at the same moment you do, and your spells negate one another.

Theo_: Don't try anything foolish.

• Vescan glances over at her.

Vescan: ..Indeed.

• Dominik doesn't understand exactly what happened, but is on guard.

Vescan: It's been pleasant talking with you, Ysabeau, but I think that's enough for today.

Ysabeau: Indeed, I think I need a cold drink - the weather is simply fearful these days! Please give my regards to Dessa, Vescan.

Vescan: I only wish I could.

• Vescan says, you think sincerely.

Ysabeau: There are many things I wish I could do for her, too.

Ysabeau: Have a good day.

• Dominik looks a little dissappointed that things have diffused
• Dominik heads off with Ysabeau

Ysabeau: Those are the sorts of games neither you nor I are meant for.

Dominik: You seemed to know what you were doing... next time you might want to give me a heads up on your tricks.

Dominik: So I can be ready for them

Ysabeau: Sorry. You're right.

• Ysabeau looks down at her feet as the tension saps out of her.

Ysabeau: I was attempting to read his thoughts. It would have been better if I could have told you to make a distraction of some sort.

Dominik: good trick, especially when your trying to glean some information.

Ysabeau: I guess I have to work on my cleverness. I didn't really know where I'd find him, or what to expect, though.

Dominik: Take it like a sparing match with a new partner... you've slap blades a couple of times now, feeling eachother out, so now you know a little better what your dealing with.

• Ysabeau laughs nervously.

Ysabeau: I don't think I'll be sparring with him again. You heard him... he works for the Hush.

Dominik: I take it the end results today were not has good as you were hoping for.

• Dominik shrugs

Dominik: There are always other ways than an upfront confrontation

Ysabeau: No, they weren't. I still hold him as my strongest suspect for Dessa's murder, but it's futile to try to have him arrested or anything, because he gets paid to do what he does for the empire.

Dominik: did you really think getting him arrested was a likely outcome?

Ysabeau: No.

Ysabeau: I don't have any hard evidence.

Dominik: I thought this was about a different kind of justice

Ysabeau: In that respect perhaps I got what I was looking for. A reason for Dessa's death. She died for the empire.

• Ysabeau says bitterly.

Ysabeau: But the thing is, I am not absolutely certain it WAS him. I would have liked to get him alone in a dark alley somewhere, not out in the open at a café surrounded by people.

Dominik: If that is really what you want, you'll have to work at it, but I'm sure you can make it happen.

Dominik: It could be worth the effort. He may be more forthcoming if he is alone.

Ysabeau: I have to weigh my options now. I think locking horns with the Hush is not a very wise thing to do.

Ysabeau: I have Murienne to think of. Plus, I rather like being alive and there's so much I haven't experienced yet.

Dominik: It's up to you where you want to take it.

• Ysabeau nods.
• Ysabeau turns to look at you.

Ysabeau: Thank you so much for coming out to help me, Dom.

Ysabeau: I really appreciate it.

• Dominik shrugs

Dominik: I'm just muscle

Ysabeau: You are that, but more importantly, you're a very good friend.

Dominik: Can't let a pretty girl like yourself get into danger without some help

• Ysabeau smiles, shaking her head.

Dominik: I admit I was eager for a little more excitement than it turned out to be.

Ysabeau: Who knows? You may yet get it.

Dominik: oh really?

Ysabeau: Well, if they've fingered me and you were with me, they might decide to explore your ties to me a bit further. Hopefully not. Seriously, I think there are much bigger problems for them to worry about than lil' old me out to try to understand why a Shambles street kid died.

Dominik: You shouldn't even concern yourself about me. I'll be fine.

Ysabeau: Like the whole necklace thing, which I think is somehow tied into my own little quest.

Dominik: plenty of little threads in that, isnt there

• Ysabeau nods.
• Dominik sounds bitter
• Ysabeau looks at him with a wry smile.
• Dominik shrugs

Ysabeau: We are so young! Yet we both are so bitter right now. I had a sudden image of two old greybeards sitting on a porch complaining about everything.

Dominik: Well I'm tired of complaining. I should be doing something about it.

Dominik: But there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it

Dominik: So I simmer and fume and try to find ways to distract myself

Ysabeau: Keep your eyes and ears open; maybe an opportunity will arise.

Dominik: Right... opportunity.

Dominik: You can always find opportunity. It usually leads to getting used by someone else

Ysabeau: Well... as long as you're aware that you're being used, and you are using that person in return, it can be very much an opportunity.

Dominik: some of us aren't skilled at using people.

Dominik: I should be, with all the shit i've gone through, but I hate people who just use other people.

Ysabeau: ...

Ysabeau: Sometimes, you have no choice.

Dominik: I know that... there times you have no other option... but thats not who I'm talking about

Dominik: I'm talking about those fucks that do it for fun, for thier own greed, for their own sense of superiority.

Dominik: but im no better these days.

Dominik: I just play along with thier fucking schemes, hoping to see if it gives me a better opportunity

• Ysabeau shrugs.

Dominik: Thats it? A shrug?

Ysabeau: It's a dog eat dog world, but playing along with their schemes is not such a bad strategy. It might give you windows into their motivations, or they might let drop something they shouldn't, which, in the right circumstance, you may be able to turn against them some day.

Ysabeau: I was thinking how to answer.

Ysabeau: I can't believe I just said that, because it's not how I've worked up to now.

Ysabeau: But it might be how I have to work, some time.

• Ysabeau says pensively.

Dominik: That's what I've been doing, but I don't know how much longer I can keep it up.

Dominik: More and more all I want to do is just hit someone.

• Ysabeau nods.

Ysabeau: I understand completely.

Ysabeau: Well, I'm not sure that I can help you with the need to hit something, but you're always welcome to rant to me, if you like.

Ysabeau: That can be cathartic itself.

Ysabeau: I think it is not a nice path to walk but sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do... I guess you just have to keep in mind all the time WHY you're doing it.

Ysabeau: It helps if the reason is a noble one, like keeping your little sister alive.

Dominik: some of us arn't so noble

Ysabeau: 'Noble' was perhaps a poor choice of words.

Ysabeau: It has so many ambiguities when you think of its various meanings.

Dominik: I knew what you meant

Ysabeau: You just need a damn good reason for doing it, and you need to hold that reason in your thoughts at all times, like a beacon of light.

Dominik: fancy words

• Ysabeau shrugs.

Ysabeau: I'm a bard.

• Dominik chuckles
• Ysabeau cracks a smile back at him.

Dominik: must you do that?

• Dominik says softly

Ysabeau: What, smile?

• Ysabeau looks confused.

Dominik: I'm so angry at myself right now and when you smile like that all you make me want to do if forget everything but you.

Ysabeau: Why are you angry at yourself, Dom?

• Ysabeau asks softly.

Dominik: I have no noble goals. I'm just trying to...

• Dominik cuts himself off

Ysabeau: Trying to what?

• Ysabeau prods gently.

Dominik: nothing

Ysabeau: Dom, I can't help you if you don't let me in. But all in good time.

• Ysabeau takes your hand and gives it a gentle, comforting squeeze before letting it go again.

Dominik: stop it

• Dominik pulls away
• Ysabeau looks frustrated but lets you have your space.

Dominik: I know you understand how I feel about you. I try to keep my distance. I just can't do this right now.

• Dominik turns and walks away
• Ysabeau watches him leave. Boys are so fucking weird.