Book 1: Crownfall, Act 1: All The King's Men

Zorbeltuss · Post by **Zorbeltuss** » Fri Aug 17, 2018 5:06 pm

Most talk about Mercutio is all about how he had flunked out of military academy, and instead spent his nights drinking, carousing and gambling. Still did, much to the shame, or at least anger of his family. Deeper scrutiny reveals that he had mostly excelled in more than one class, but failed one single exam with flying colors, incidentally the one course his father held in the highest esteem. Clearly his falling out must have been a deliberate move on his part. Then there was this little episode with ruining the marriage prospects of a cousin, though that might just be a myth.

The man himself did some research on Lady Lotheed and found himself liking what he heard, what were the odds that she was pretty, single and playful? Too long, surely. Oh well, he must have been invited for a reason, and if it wasn't for his charming personality, agile mind or skill as an entertainer, well maybe he should just try and get a grip on whatever those whitebeards in the senate were up to this week.

GuyWithSword · Post by **GuyWithSword** » Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:41 pm

The first two days of info-gathering has yielded some interesting tidbits, especially about Aurelia’s black-sheep-of-the-family prospective employer. Aurelia wonders if this whole job isn’t just related to the Lady getting revenge on her family, one-up her family, or perhaps proving something to get back into their good graces.

Aurelia spends the next few days split between checking up on the cell members she knows of, and also shopping for a good outfit using the pre-paid fee from the Lady. She visits one of the many hideouts. After knocking on the door in a specific pattern, an eye slit opens, and someone says, “Apart, we sink.”

The blonde enchantress responds, “But a rising tide lifts all.”

With that, the door is unlocked and Aurelia is admitted. After closing the door and re-locking it, the young woman finally greets Aurelia. “Hello there, Big Tits.” Aurelia rolls her eyes and laughs. “That’s not my code name and you know it! It’s Big Titles!”

Aurelia playfully sways at the other woman, who dodges out of the way with amazing speed and grace. “Glad to see you’re still you, Lightning Bug. Listen, I’ve got an operation soon. Been hired for some sort of job at the big gala. Not sure on the details yet but this is likely a big opportunity for me to impress and ingratiate myself into the kind of position to really help out the cause. Can you and Silent Shen either sneak in or get hired as wait staff? I’m sure you two can make sure a guard is distracted, or a key is left somewhere for me to find.”

The enchantress strokes the spine of the ornately-appointed book hanging at the side of her right hip. “I think I need a new dress as well. Since I don’t know exactly what high ranking official or noble I’ll need to schmooze, I need to wear something adaptable. But, nothing so generic as to just look like something I purchased from a tailor who didn't even need to take my measurements, like the monstrosity that girl Kaylee wore to last week's soiree."

Lightning Bug cocks her head. "You know, I know just the thing. One of the merchants sympathetic to us has been looking to offload a minor magical trinket, but hasn't found a buyer yet. He's looking to go on another caravan trip soon, and I think you can get this item for a good price. It's a bracelet you wear, that with a simple command word and a thought, can turn into a stunningly realistic illusion of any set of clothing you can think of. It includes rustling sounds, smell of fabric, the works!" The skinnier woman certainly seems to love it. "If only I had the funds myself...oh well, next time. So, with this bracelet, you can adjust your outfit to suit the person you're...charming. Although, knowing you, you'd go in with a scandalously high hem line anyways." teases Lightning Bug.

Aurelia puts up her hands in acquiescence. "Yes yes, you've made your point. I'll go see the merchant. And for the record, there's nothing wrong with my style!"

Post by **ManWithDoor** » Tue Aug 21, 2018 4:12 am

As the time of the Gala approaches nigh, the city of Oppara is filled with gossip and intrigue. Vast caravans of merchants flood the streets, every room that can possibly be occupied is rented (and others that by all reason should not be occupied are anyways), and celebrations fill every tavern. Given that this is the Capital, various factions get in heated arguments and even some fights. There are rarely worse injuries than a black eye and bruised pride, as the City Guard are out in force, and do not suffer fools during the Exaltation Gala. Despite just trying to get last minute materials to finish fitting his own garments, even Crichton cannot avoid the constant gossip. The merchant blabs on and on while cutting a bolt of cloth, going on about a Ducal reception he had heard about. A Baronet got in a fight with a servant, and Wyssilka the Fantabulous, a jester, managed to mock him so deeply that he left in a huff, while the rest of the party cheered on the cutting remarks.

Minor crowds gather around arriving important personages, keeping their distance to avoid being roughed up by their personal protectors. Watching these processions, or talking to those who appear to be in the know, elicits some interesting bits of information. Despite some rumors that the Grand Prince is going to elevate once again one of his own Ulfen Guards, the man of the hour is a humble weaver from the backwater village of Breezy Creek. His beautiful tapestries have adorned noble houses and even the royal palace for a decade now. The peasantry raise toasts to the health of this Kalbio character, one of their own rising to the ranks of the Nobility. And if it could happen to him, who knows if it could happen to them as well?

While there are literally hundreds of Senators, plus important Nobility, extended family, wealthy merchants with political connections ... isolating who are the true power players is a truly Herculean task. Despite all his subtle prodding, Theodrix finds no one who knows this Narsius fellow. The only hint of a rumor was a court page scratching his scruffy beard at the name. He shrugged, thinking he may have heard a halfling court jester mention the name once, but he may have misheard. He apologizes, and then runs off to deliver his next missive. But in total, spending multiple days sifting through the populace, a few names begin to be repeated with enough regularity to feel like fact.

Nearly every Taldan recognizes commander-in-chief High Strategos Maxillar Pythareus as Grand Prince Stavian III's right hand man, and fanatical supporter of the throne. He is known for his military supremacy, and makes no secret that he openly advocates new wars of conquest against wayward colonies like Andoran and Cheliax, or even Qadira. With the disappearance of Stavian IV five years prior, ideas such as military expansion, especially against Qadira, are lauded by the populace at large. Secure in the splendor of the Capital, the people find it easy to believe that victory will be guaranteed, and justice served for the loss of the Golden Prince.

Marquess Tanasha Starborne is an eccentricity, to say the least. It is not suspected that she is necessarily particularly influential, but she stands out from the crowd, and that can be a power all unto its own. The gnomes of Wispil, a city in the heart of the Verduran Forest, supplies much of the lumber that feeds the needs of Taldor. Given their importance, they are granted one Senate seat. However, they decided they did not want a hereditary seat, and instead volunteer one of their number to fill the position for a time, switching according to whatever internal logic the gnomes secretly have. A female Senator is a scandal, but the Kingdom cannot do anything directly about it since the Marquess does not claim hereditary claim to the Senate Seat, so inheritance laws cannot touch her. Reports paint a picture of a colorful, chaotic diversion.

Duke Leonard Centimus is not a Senator himself, but a guest of one. The half-elf is an intellectual and a tinkerer whose head makes him an excellent administrator. His organizational talents are widely sought after, giving him a wide net of influence. Five years ago he was in some sort of accident, crippling his legs. He still attends all of the court functions in a wheelchair of his own design. It has a great deal of artistic embellishment, although it is still tasteful.

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Eventually, the time for preparation is past. The end of the Exaltation Gala is at hand, and the meeting with the now-less-mysterious Lady Martella Lotheed has come due. The appointment is at a small manor, rented for the duration of the Gala. It is a humble one story affair, but it appears to be chosen for its strategic location away from the main road, with a small amount of open ground between the manor and any other buildings. Sneaking up to spy on the meeting would take exceptional skill, or the aid of magic.

A servant, a young elven girl, invites each of you in to the receiving area. Long, golden beams of the setting sun dance through the manor's smoky interior, highlighting breads, cheeses, and wines bottles set out on a large table in the middle of the main room. A low fire smolders in the hearth, and sticks of pleasantly perfumed incense are placed evenly around the room. "I'm so pleased you could join the Lady, honored lady, honored gentleman." She bows to each of you as you arrive, and gestures to the table. "Please, enjoy yourself. The Lady will be joining you momentarily." She blushes. "The fig jam is particularly lovely, if you so desire it."

JohnnyWeird · Post by **JohnnyWeird** » Tue Aug 21, 2018 3:09 pm

"Thank you very much." Crichton's smile is warm, genuine, and empty of flirtation.

Of exceptional cut and flawlessly tailored, the dress of the young human is on the simplest end of current fashion, bordering on austere. No flourish or ornamentation bears remark.

If the bearing of the other guests surprised him, Crichton shows no sign of it. Instead, he crosses to the table, where a glance confirms his suspicion - at five gold a jar from Calliard and Locke, the fig jam is likely spectacular. He grabs a bottle, recalling some of the Earl's idle conversation.

"It might pair well with this '98 Janibach. An attempt to capture the floral essence of the '82, without the tannic notes."

Crichton opens the bottle, allowing it a moment to breathe as he reaches for one of the glasses. Before he picks one up, he turns to the others, as if seeing them for the first time.

"May I tempt you? Lady? Sirs?"

Post by **Vardaen** » Tue Aug 21, 2018 6:37 pm

Having arrived on time, a young man now sits in one of the chairs, he looks uncomfortable in the plush seat and takes any chance he can to get up. He nods to Crichton, "Yes please..." he paces across the room, his tight fitting attire speaks of a military man, or at least one used to physical labor. A keen eye notes a small nautical knot wrapped around his belt, and a holy amulet tucked in his shirt of Abadar. His hair is slicked back, well groomed, even his fingernails have been cleaned up for this. Yet there is something that suggests his clothing is either old (but in nice shape like his boots) or brand new and not of custom make. He leans over and smells the fig jam, "Theodrix, please to meet you." He shakes hands, hard, with the calloused palms of a sailor.

JohnnyWeird · Post by **JohnnyWeird** » Wed Aug 22, 2018 2:37 pm

"Crichton, sir, at your service."

A handshake that reassures without revealing is exchanged, and the first glass of wine poured. Ready to provide for the others, or himself if they decline, Crichton reaches for the next glass.

Post by **Vardaen** » Wed Aug 22, 2018 3:35 pm

A nod to the wine.

"So what brings you into the service of Lady Lotheed? Are you a new or returning cohort of her?" He takes the poured wine and has a sip, he takes a second sip, he's not too cultured, no swishing or sniffing, just drinking with enjoyment. "I, before you ask, am new." He paces over to a painting on the wall and squints at it, then turns back to Crichton.

GuyWithSword · Post by **GuyWithSword** » Thu Aug 23, 2018 6:23 pm

"The Lady Lotheed is most gracious, and your comportment honors her." The young enchantress inclines her head graciously, doing it so perfectly that if it were not for her outfit, one could almost believe that the enchantress is a noble.

The blonde-haired, medium-height, tan-skinned young woman is not wearing...much. Her dress, although richly-appointed, is open in front, all the way from her collar bones down past her navel. The opening is widened at the chest area, ensuring that more of her large globes are exposed than covered, and drawing attention to the symbol hanging between her deep cleavage (a circle, with 3 daggers pointing outwards from it). An ornate book and a belt pouch hang from the sturdy brown belt around her waist. The dress ends not too far below the belt, hinting at just how...cheeky...this enchantress is. Her height is bolstered by a pair of deep-blue high heels.

If she is self-conscious about her outfit, she doesn't show it in the slightest.

"I do believe I will have some of the wine, kind sir. I do enjoy relaxing and getting to know people."

After Chrichton pours a glass for her, the young woman accepts the drink and holds out a hand. "Thank you. You may call me Aurelia. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances." She practically purrs the word 'pleasure'. "I have yet to meet Lady Lotheed, but I gather that she is a very ambitious woman..."

JohnnyWeird · Post by **JohnnyWeird** » Thu Aug 23, 2018 7:25 pm

"I have not had the pleasure of the Lady's acquaintance, but I arrived in the capital some weeks ago looking for work. Word apparently reached her."

Crichton fills and hands Aurelia a glass, his eyes intent on her hands.

"Here you are, Miss. Will you take wine as well, sir?"

Post by **Vardaen** » Fri Aug 24, 2018 3:05 pm

"I gather Lady Lotheed is collecting folks of talent, like stray cats, for some reason." Theodix has a drink and looks around. He pauses at the sight of Aurelia, and looks her up and down taking in the outfit. "That seem ridiculously impractical. What is it with women in this city?" Shaking his head he just can't imagine walking around dressed like that. "Humility propriety appear to not be virtues in Oppara."

Finishing his drink he takes a fig and pops it into his mouth chewing slowly. "So is this it, or are there more of us?"

Fellowship of the Dice