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[filiusenox]

"Of course, so sorry to bother you."

Quietly ask people about how they view the guard, government, and lord. Of course don't do this right in front of the guardhouse, somewhere discreet but not criminal.

A day before arriving in port.
"Call Thomas to my room, if you please."

((TIME SHENNIGANS. I thought fan stopped playing becuase it got boring.))

[Dwarmin]

'Tala' was about to leave. Her horse-a gorgeous sorrel filly named 'Emerald'-was saddled and ready to go...when she heard some raucous cawing-above her. She ignored it. A few moments later, a Kraai swooped out of the sky, buzzing over her head and then pinwheeling to the top of the flagpole at the gate to glare down her with a beady, black baleful eye. Crows had always been bad luck, in Talas estimation.

She then recognized it as Hugo's bird...

Tala was still confused, when she spotted Hugo himself, hurrying toward her with a wrapped painting in hand, visibly winded. Well, he seemed in good shape anyway!

"I guess no shortcut is too perilous for a ladies favor, eh Hugo?"

She laughed, plucking a chicken feather from his coat.

"Also, I'm not sure, but I think your bird tried to assassinate me..."

"Perhaps your nights have not been entirely unenjoyable? Forgive me for saying so, but you have the air of a woman in love. For that, I also give my congratulations."

Tala was reminded how well Hugo could read people...

"Hmm, it seems I have been found out, and by the one person I would have told in confidence. What gave me away? Unless, of course, this is your standard greeting to most people, knowing that those in love admit it happily?"

She beamed.

He then proffers the wrapped painting.

"Als het uw belieft; a gift, to secure my eyesight. Perhaps it will remind you that it would be best not to suffer any injuries in the coming battles. I think you will find it an entirely unbiased piece."

"Ahh, I would not deny you to look as I open it. It is either a painting or an overlarge flattened battle shield...let's see..."

Tala removed the wrapping gingerly, and gasped. It was...perfect. Like looking in a mirror. Somehow he had caught...her. The very essence of her body and soul-which was to say, it reminded Tala of her real self.

Had he looked upon her and somehow knew-that beneath the pretty dresses and posing, this was who she was?

"Hugo...it's amazing. Wonderful...How did you.."

While there was no details for the answer seeker-no abstractions, tricks of vantage or color to fool the eyes-to Talas own eyes could make details of herself that she had almost forgotten.

A narrow, tiny scar, barely perceptible on her left shoulder-the point of a knife wound she had earned in a street fight at 16.

The way she liked to keep her ponytail slightly wild and uncontrolled-and yet, the longest lock that hung down her forehead was always pushed to side. He had included that detail.

Even the tilt of her head indicated she was speaking to the viewer of the painting-one of her hands was about to be raised in supplication, and her mouth was formed in such a way to suggest a small smile was about to spring up.

She couldn't speak. What could she say?

[Sheb]

Sheb was furious. Not only had she refused him yesterday, she had made a fool of him with that birthday that was so conveniently not celebrated because the army was departing. As if she could ignore that! Even him, a foreigner, knew the army was to depart shortly. He acted like a fool and he hated her as well as himself for that. As General Nikephoros was giving a speech to the Royal Army, Sheb checked out of the Gilded Cage and found some craftsman that would let him store most of his stuff in his backyard.

As the first regiment, the Queen's own guard, was crossing the main gate of Talama, Sheb was in a weaponsmith's forge, buying a sword and a supply of good bolts for his hunting crossbow.

Then, as the last of Queen Laythe's soldiers were departing toward death and fame, Sheb was crossing the gate of Talama for the second time in only two days, swearing not to return until he had been vindicated.

[micelus]

And so the days passed with Retcyl surveying the island, taking notes on where he could build facilities and where he could build defences. Sometimes he wrote reports on Ligoria, like those scholar-priests, but at other times he enjoyed a game of cyrrase. It was a simple enough game; there were four players each with 11 pieces. 10 of those pieces, called dispes could move in one direction, but only one square at a time. The eleventh piece was special; it was called a condu. The condu could jump over any other piece and could move 5 squares each turn. It also allowed surrounding pieces to move  further by 3 squares and also allow them to do more than one action per turn. It was entertaining, but no one in the whole camp were masters at it...

One night, Retcyl found himself bored and reading over his reports. He reviewed his notes on the Dragon Empire. Enemy of Hatcur, home of the Exiles, and such. They had taken Mileth some time ago...But only one general. This wasn't a sustained attack, not just yet anyway. And it also seemed that Ligoria was about to mobilise it's troops...Leaving Ligoria with much fewer defences and this Dragon Empire general in a great deal of trouble...For but a moment, Retcyl considered warning this general, but instantly rejected the idea. Why would I help my eternal enemy? But then he thought about it again. The general can't truly survive a full attack in any chance...Unless his country reinforces his ranks...Which begs the question, why send him with such a pitiful force? Retcyl wondered and looked over his books.

After looking through his books, he remembered that the Dragon Empire follows the way of Zritikugn, or strong-manipulate-might. It was hard to translate into Proper but it basically meant that the strong survive, and that people often backstab each other to get a better position. That meant this general...has been sent on a suicide mission by his enemies at court. Should he fail...some powerful people within the Empire shall get rid of an enemy. Should he succeed, they'll be punished and this general strengthened with wealth, men, and prestige. Retcyl saw no victory in supporting the general or Ligoria; better to weaken both, he decided.

He wrote a message up and sent it to the Embassy, waiting for Hugo's eyes.

Spoiler: A letter to Hugo (click to show/hide)

Dear Hugo,

As you know, I'm still on this island and William is out doing whatever young nobles do at sea. I've sent this message to you to simply ask our Bleeding associates if they have any ties with criminal groups outside of the city, anywhere at all. I guess as I write to you, your busy with a painting or doing some paperwork (terribly sorry about that), or enjoying some celebration. Which reminds me, how goes  the Queen and her people? I have reports on their actions and such, but I don't have anything about how they've been acting. How goes Tala? How goes Thunderblade and the general? Is there anything of interests at all?

From your trapped "lizard",

Retcyl Jementeten.

[NUKE9.13]

She couldn't speak. What could she say?

"Ah, Tala. Your silence speaks more than any words could, to those who know how to read you. You should really make sure to keep your mouth moving whenever you don't want to betray your thoughts- ah, but who am I to ponder what secrets you may keep? I am glad you appreciate my work, and that is enough for me.
As for how I know that you are in love... well, I can just tell; one of the many skills I picked up in my childhood."

Hugo makes a vague gesture, clearly pleased with the reception of his painting.

"Now, I suspect that I am holding up a war somewhere with my idle chatter. Go, milady, and teach those heathen scum to stay out of the Storm Coast!"

Hugo waves Tala off, then returns to the embassy, mildly disappointed that there will be no party. Well, he will go drinking tonight anyway, and celebrate alone. Make up for all those soldiers who will never celebrate again when this war is done.

...

Several days later, Hugo receives Retcyl's letter. Hugo's puts to paper his opinion on the state of things, and adds it to the standard pile of outgoing reports. He writes down as much as he can think of, to provide a comprehensive report, but provides a summary as preface for quick reference:

The Queen, so far as I can tell, is as crazy as ever.
Her followers, at least, seem more competent.
She has left the scholar, Avitus, to handle affairs in Talama, and I think he may turn out to be a better ruler than the Queen is.
Her general, Nikephoros, also seems quite capable- loose lipped soldiers call him strict, but fair.
The issue with Kawakai's finances have been dealt with, so the embassy affairs are in order.
The Bleeding Fists respect, at least, fists which cause bleeding, so they are under control and quite content. Lovely fellows when you get to know them, with some rather intriguing ideas about the nature of good and evil and the concept of 'property'. I will ask them if they have any contacts outside of the city, but their main area of operation is definitely within the walls.
Alanis remains as delightfully modern as ever. A fierce woman, to be sure, but elegant too.
I have not had opportunity to study Thunderblade, nor have I heard much of him. Although, I do hear a rumour that he and the queen are at least amicable, if not more.
The people are the people. They mull along in dirt and squalor, do nothing and think nothing.

Hugo also takes the opportunity to slip in some... controversial suggestions.

I believe that the Bleeding Fists- and subsequently our- influence could quite easily be expanded. The deliveries of opium aid in this endeavour, but this is minor play for the gangs- the laws against such things are weak, if not non-existent, so there is much competition. After studying the state of the city, I think that the Fists could do a lot better. Whole districts go all but unpatrolled by the guard- a few bribes, a few threats, and they would be under the Fist's control. Additional safehouses could be constructed; other gangs either destroyed or consumed, the guards paid off, merchants extorted- the whole city could be under your control in all but in name.
Ah... I will admit I am not sure how feasible such plans are. My experience in such matters is limited to my work these past few months, and a few childhood escapades. But give me the resources, and I can at least try. Certainly, with the embassy as our hidden fortress, there would be little risk.

Naturally, these letters (and all of the reports) are encoded and delivered discretely. Can't have these things falling into the wrong hands.

I [Hugo] will ask them [the Bleeding Fists] if they have any contacts [bandit groups/smugglers/pirates] outside of the city

((Hugo van Vissersdorp: Master Artist, Dabbling Crimelord))

[micelus]

Retcyl received the artist's reply and read. Avitus is in control? He hadn't heard of that. How Retcyl wished he would stay as king...So much easier to deal with than Laythe...Time to pen another letter.

Spoiler: Response to Hugo (click to show/hide)

To H,

It is good that you have solved our sleeping engineer's debts. Even better to learn that Avitus is regent. If you haven't already, I ask you to befriend him. He seems versed in civilised manners and ways, and isn't a kinslayer or crazy. And yes, expanding on the Bleeding Fists control of the city would be useful. I've thought of it myself, I just didn't have the funds to carry the plans out at the time...nor the great luck of having Laythe outside of the city.

From R.

Using a slightly different coding system, Retcyl sent the letter off to Hugo.

[SeriousConcentrate]

Seeing that the speech was over, Pasha left to go find Tala. He would be leading her troops so it made more sense for him to stay by her, and frankly being anywhere else would just be for show. His horse trotted over to hers just as Hugo left, and he inspected the painting. "I wasn't aware any skilled craftsmen lived in Ligoria," he said. The artist was... really good. If it wasn't for the fact he was speaking to her at the moment, he might've been fooled into thinking he was looking at Tala through a gilded window frame. "It's very true to life," he said. But the practical side of me wants to ask where she'll keep it on the march...

As birthday presents went, it was a fine one indeed. He put a hand on Tala's shoulder. "Well... are you ready to ride out against the Dragon Empire, then?" A double question, but given that he had placed no special emphasis on any word in the sentence anyone listening would think he was merely slightly impatient. Only she would get what he truly meant. I wouldn't want to be in her place.... It's not a good feeling at all, having to divide loyalties like that. "I'll remain here at your side. In case you need anything."

[CyberGenesis]

Quietly ask people about how they view the guard, government, and lord. Of course don't do this right in front of the guardhouse, somewhere discreet but not criminal.

((TIME SHENNIGANS. I thought fan stopped playing becuase it got boring.))

((no idea))

[21115]
You ask a handful of people how they view their lord, guard and government (aka lord). Most seem to despise the rich bastard for what he is, but accept that someone needs to be. They're also less concerned about imminent invasion with Galam so close, and their lord's pockets so deep to afford their help when needed. You only happen to find a very small number with true complaints against the Lord - the street gangs. Who are understandably against their 'lord'

I [Hugo] will ask them [the Bleeding Fists] if they have any contacts [bandit groups/smugglers/pirates] outside of the city

[5625]
The gang seems to have a rather wide net of minor contacts and only a handful of real 'allies' - if you can call them that. Many of those allies would also as soon slit the throats of any member of the Fists rather than help them. The underworld organization in the Storm Coast seems to be rather weak. Mostly they fight for their respective territory, and don't assist eachother unless it could possibly harm them more than help.

Smugglers and pirates are easy to call 'ally' to them. They do all the importing and exporting of goods and 'services' for the gangs in all cities, not just Ligoria.

[Taricus]

In the queen's palm there were three exceptionally large coins. "The funding for the university, if you may. After putting off for so long, I figured it's about time we got it set up."

Order the construction of the first vessel on the Royal navy, a Heavy I Tactician ship for 4.5 Ducats. Hire Two engineers, two spies and three generals.

[leone313]

Avitus felt happy, for the first time since he had left Vasir. He was back in a position that, if it wasn't as comfortable as what he had back home, still provided him with the vision of a brilliant future.
He spoke reverently: "I assure you your trust and funds will be put to the best possible use. I wish you success in the battles you will fight, and I will be awaiting your glorious return. In the meantime, rest assured your Kingdom will be in able and loyal hands. Farewell."
He quickly drew a small purse from his coat and secured his treasure, then bowed, awaiting for the Queen's depart.

[Taricus]

"Farewell, and make sure that the city doesn't burn down while I'm gone." The last part of that sentance was said in a rather light tone as the queen left the future university...

[Dwarmin]

As birthday presents went, it was a fine one indeed. He put a hand on Tala's shoulder. "Well... are you ready to ride out against the Dragon Empire, then?"

'Tala' nodded-her countenance was one of steel and firm resolve, much like the Queen herself.

"We both know how many men and women will die, on both sides. If I am in a position, however tenuous, to prevent some of it, then I shall. Even if that means a quick victory..."

She heard the clattering of her baggage carriage coming up behind her. The painting would be safely stowed there, among other personal things she might need...but, she would not be one of those nobles who sequestered themselves in a wagon while other marched in the snow. No, she would ride at the head of her forces-fully armed and kitted out.

Her armor-sturdy, undecorated halfplate, full helm and greaves that had orginally been worn by the real Lady Alanis-complimented her own double edged long sword, a long ago gift from Pasha, naturally. She had, of course, received countless blades from countless men, each more expensive and beautiful than the last-and they were always dull, badly weighted and brittle.

The blade Pasha had given her had no frills-except for the two roses intertwining on the green hilt. It was well made, effective and deadly sharp. He had said he would have not trusted to give her anything less, and she believed him.

She drew the sword now, and made a few practice motions, which seemed much more easy than before-her training had paid off. She noticed Pasha was watching her blade dance and couldn't but wonder if she had impressed him...

"Let no one say your Wild Rose does not now wield a thorn of her own."

She smiled, sheathing the blade, and began putting on her armor. Her biggest advantage here was that the helm would totally conceal her face-along with a retinue of hand picked female bodyguards who were similiar armor, Tala would be difficult to pick out for kidnapping or assassination in case of a pitched battle. Another fine idea of Pashas, who knew much more about open war than she likely ever would.

[SeriousConcentrate]

Pasha nodded approvingly when she demonstrated her skills. "Here, let me help you," he said, moving to help her strap on her armor. He knew she wasn't as experienced with putting on armor as he was, and the kind she had required a second pair of hands to work the straps in the back. As for his own, he didn't wear much and he was used to putting it on and taking it off on his own. Once she was finished being suited up, he took his own helmet from his pack and put it on. It concealed his entire head for similar reasons as Tala's; his hair was a distinctive flame color and was easily seen in a battlefield.

"How is the armor? Not too restrictive?" he asked. It would probably take her some time to get used to moving in it.

[Dwarmin]

'Tala' nodded. She tried the same sword movements as before, and noticed it was obviously more difficult to move-and when she tried on the helmet, her senses of sight and hearing were muffled to a degree that uneased her.

It was strange that the armor actually protected her more, Tala was robbed of the agility and spatial sense that was in her own estimation, was her greatest advantage. She kept resisting the urge to spin around and try to catch something half glimpsed in her peripheral vision.

"It's fine. I can breath easily enough, if that's what you mean. I do feel a bit like a living statue..."

She mounted her Horse fine with Pashas help-no more embarrassing way to die in war than cracking your skull trying to get on your horse before the battle.

Emerald bore her weight easily, Tala was glad to feel-her trainer had said she was too young, but Tala had gone with her instinct in this manner. Simply put, the girl had spirit-Tala scratched her above the ear and was rewarded with a whinny.

She took off the helmet for now, and addressed Pasha.

"I guess I could ask you to 'stay safe' or 'be careful', but we're going to a battlefield for the Gods sake...we're about as far from safe and careful as anyone can be. Let's just promise to get this over with as soon as possible."

A moment later, she laughed musically at his response to that, and clicked for Emerald to take her out of the gates. Following, a number of Green sashed house Alanis guard-though now their sashes were laid over armor, and they each had both longblades and longbows, ready at a moments notice, scanning the horizon.

[filiusenox]

...Alright then...next phase...

Meet with the Lord.