Investigating The Princess, Six Days Prior to Celebration

[The Keeper of Precepts]

(Setting Music: City of Cosvell)

"An entire celebration for that sniveling little brat...what has this kingdom come to?" One aristocrat said as he trudged through the crowd that congested the alleyway that separated the Prefect of Volai and the Prefect off Viedre.

"There is a world of darkness closing in on us and all our 'Great' King can think of his is little kneebiter of a daughter." Another aristocrat said as he walked along side the other.

"If I ever saw that banta faced fool of a King, I'd sure show him a thing o-" The aristocrat was cut off by a group of guards who just happened to pass by in the must inopportune time.

"Or what? What would you show our great "banta faced' King? Maybe you'd like to confront the King and let him run you through, eh?" The interrupting guard mocked and threatened while making an unneeded intimidating pointing gesture.

The guard and his two fellow guardsmen loomed over the aristocrats with all their mighty strength. They were quite young to say the least, at least three decades younger than the aristocrats. Their armor and weaponry suggested that the aristocrats would obviously be outmatched regardless of age or physical stature. To make matters worse, it was as though the big strong Cosvel guard was throwing its weight around once again; all of which totaled at least six hundred pounds.

"Two old men...versus a trio of Cosvel's finest." A nearby civilian said leaning up against the wall. Her head hung low as she first spoke but she quickly lifted it up revealing the fine cloth that had been wrapped around her head to cover her eyes. "Good thing this is not a battle of wits...the King would be in trouble..."

The three guards abruptly turned around with their nostrils flaring and their eyebrows quirked. The rear guards had their hands on the hilts of their swords. The guard that lead the trio had his fist raised, poised and ready to respond. His eyes were slow to react and his mind even slower. He threw a single punch.

The antagonist's movements were queer to say the least. Her body wafted in the wind that took over the corridor that separated the two prefects. The guard's fist moved quickly. Yet, her response was slow and timid. With a serpentine movement of her neck the girl avoid the dangerous impact of the guard's fist that splintered the stone.

The guard watched the girl's reaction. Her head had not moved in the wake of a stone shower. All three of them were oblivious at first. They had not noticed the cloth wrapped over her eyes at first. When they did; however, the guards had not spoken any words of sorrow or regret but their body language had provided plenty of awkward movements and uncomfortable gestures.

"You best mind yourself girl." The aggressive guard said as he took a few steps back.

The trio had turned to walk away. They brushed off the incident without recourse. The two secondary guards had pushed forward through the crowd and continued on their patrol. They had not bothered with looking back. But the aggressive member had stopped to look over his shoulder if only for a moment.

"You're lucky old men..." the Guard started motioning towards the young girl, "You'd be wise to mind your tongues while under the protection of the very King you bad mouth."

The aggressive guard had continued on through the alleyway in a slow jog to catch up to the other two guards.

The aristocrats stood still for a moment. Afraid to make a move while the guards were still so near. They acknowledged that the guards were a little on edge today. Obviously a result of the upcoming ceremony. If anyone was so bold as to start any sort of ruckus there would definitely be trouble. They never once showed any appreciation for the young girl who had kept them out of harms way. Perhaps that was because there was no appreciation to be shown.

"You must think you are Jhalla's gift to the desert, beggar? Jumping into our business like that." One aristocrat said as he approached the young girl.

She did not respond in any verbal form. The young beggar slid down the wall to rest on the ground. She held her walking stick against her shoulder in a non-aggressive manner and let her chin drop down into her chest once again.

The aristocrat flicked his leg forward kicking dirt onto the woman's open sandals. He looked back and his friend and stuck his tongue out to show him a giant wad of spit that was fresh and ready. He intended to release it upon the young woman who had stuck her nose in their business. Who had saved them from a terrible confrontation with the easily aggravated guards.

"She's not worth it Ransom." The more passive of the two had stated placing a hand his friends shoulder. "We have matters to attend to, you are aware?"

"You're right Elleshar...this haven for sand fleas will only sully this fine day. It isn't every day that we go without hearing about the murder of another random fool at the hands of that reaper raper Nangros...may the temple of Volai fall on his head!"

The two pressed on down the alleyway. They did not look back.

The young girl's name was Sicarii. She had no familiar ties to this particular city. She had no ambitions other than surviving the reign of Nangros. She came to Cosvel seeking better life opportunities than those that were available to the general public in other regions of Vola. Regions covered by gray clouds and the foul breath of the most Unspeakable Evil.

"So there is a celebration for the Princess. I suppose that is as good a time as any." She thought without distracting herself too much.

Sicarii had always kept an open ear. Along with that open ear she had kept an open mind. A sponge that would absorb any bit of information until she could discern whether or not is valuable before committing it to memory or discarding it and replacing it with something else. She had been in Cosvel for only a few months. This was the most interesting piece of knowledge had come across.

"But what do I actually know of this little girl? She is turning eighteen...perhaps sixteen? Hmm..." She continued on with her thought process.

She did not actually know anything of the royal family here. Sicarii had known of the castle. She had heard things about the royal family that were nothing more than speculation or the political banter of uneducated drunkards. The few aristocrats that had cross her path seemed to be political to some extent and had responded to her just as these most recent two had. Unfortunately, she had learned nothing of any interest. At least, until today.

The young woman took a deep breath before pushing her staff against the ground and taking control of an erect position against the wall. She pressed on into the Grand Marketplace Commons where she would search for information. There was little time to spare.

[Sicarii]

"'Ello there little lady, what would you say to a nice bushel of snakeroot fruit for only a kue? Some of the most succulent fruits this side of the the region!" One merchant said as he divided the fruit in his hand with a knife and offered it to the passing woman.

Sicarii had not responded. She continued walking. Sicarii prodded the ground with her quarter staff from left to right only a pace or two in front of her as she walked. She kept her head tilted back and to the left. As if not even to acknowledge the merchant.

"Come on...you think you're going to find a better deal?" The merchant pressed but he could only wallow in defeat as Sicarii kept walking.

Sicarii moved slowly passed the variety of retail stores that lined the walls in which defined the very boundaries of the Grand Market Commons. There were all constructed of stone blocks mined from the quarry in the Prefect of Volai. Each one with bonemelded doors and finely constructed glass windows that protected a variety of goods that people could not help but gawk at. The buildings were constructed together to form a little strip of stores. The design that followed the molding depicted airships, chariots, and soldiers. Not to suggest that it was a militant town but simply to add a little flare to the scenery. There was not much to appreciate in this town anymore with darkness looming just beyond the boundaries of the region.

"A walking stick...bah, you're a queer girl. A measly whelp like yourself needs a spear between her fingers. Something that will show those men who's boss. I got some of the best in town!"

Sicarii just kept moving. She could not fully appreciate the various items protected behind the glass of the various stores. She could not even appreciate what the signs dangling above her head had read. At least, not through the cloth wrap that concealed her eyes from the world. The cloth was just thin enough vision to make out the various structures and people but it was too thick to make out detailed information such as intricate facial features or words.

"Well isn't that just the prettiest body I've ever seen! The only thing it's missing is some nice chimpella fur! Only a royal for an entire rod, it is a steal!"

But his words would go unheeded as well.

Sicarii would press on towards the center of the Grand Market Commons. Surrounded by the more established solid buildings of the local shops, were a plethora of tents that were home to traveling merchants and trinket dealers. Their goods were not so desirable. For the most part they were not even remote close to being considered a necessity. While the shops dealt strictly in currency, royals and bits, these tent shops dealt in all forms of currency including trade and children.

The tent city, as it was known amongst the locals had been the bane of the city for many years. The inquisition and the royal family had shunned upon trading bodies for goods which was to say they were against slavery in any form. But that did not stop traveling merchants from making the agreement in the city and making the exchange beyond the city walls. There was nothing that could be done beyond the jurisdiction of the city.

"That wouldn't be a Golden Censor Orb of Guere, now would it?" One man said to a tent merchant.

"Oh no...it couldn't be. That'd be contraband and likely to get my head boiled..." The merchant said waving the man to step in closer. The merchant leaned into the man and whispered something that was inaudible.

Sicarii was soon to follow. She had heard all she needed to. Such a valuable item would surely attract some unsavory fellows or perhaps someone a little more savvy to what was obviously worth more than its weight in gold.

"Now, Lord Khul...you do not take me for a fool no? You throw little bits at me and expect me to squabble at your idle threats. I trade in Forwell regularly. I could sell a slave to the Lord of the Inquisition!" The merchant said with a smile before palming the Orb of Guere.

"Yarfis, you drive a hard bargain. But for the Princess, any price would be fitting. But I don't like your attitude..." Lord Khul took a step back and turned away slowly. His steps were slow and hesitant as if prodding the merchant to reconsidered, which he did.

"Wa-wait...Lord Khul, Magnus...For you, for the Princess I'm sure we can make a deal...please, if it shines right?"

"I hate that saying..." Lord Magnus Khul responded before returning to his dealings.

Sicarii was quite disappointed. The voice had sounded familiar but she was unaware that his conversation would be so bland. That it would yield no pertinent information. What could be expected from some muscle-head who was looking to impress a girl who had everything with some golden ball?

"So...when does the King want these crates?" A voice said off in the near distance.

Sicarii found this information quite pertinent, "Interesting...the Lord's don't know bantas fodder...but these lousy fools with big mouths spill all the information..."

She walked passed the Lord of Guere and his merchant acquaintance. In doing so she was careful not to draw attention to herself. Yet, as hard as she would try the young woman took a queer step which sent her staggering into the nearest table. The trinkets upon it jostled in a cacophony of tings and tangs before settling to an uncomfortable calm. The girl regained her composure and moved on towards the big mouth.

[Sicarii]

“Well…the wine won’t arrive from Dolay for another day…sometime in the early hours of the evening should the agreement read correctly.” One man said to another as they looked over the contents of a peddlers cart containing a variety of liquid refreshments.

“Hmm…they’ll be coming through Volai no doubt and heading straight to the castle. That doesn’t give us a lot of time to work…” The other man said.

The two of them were outlandish looking figures. Their gangly figures were covered with only the bare necessities. This was to say that their most crude areas were covered by skirt-like vestments that stopped just before covering the knee. Their backs were covered by large round iron shields bordered in leather. But that was not to belie their dangerousness in the effect that two handles had extended past either shoulder suggesting that there was some design of blade concealed beneath the shield. The straights that crossed over their chests were suggestive of nothing.

Prodding the ground with her four feet long walking stick as she perused the surroundings gathering what information she could from the scenery. She stopped only a single merchant’s tent away from the men who seemed to be so well informed.

“You break you buy…” The merchant said in a thick accent pointing to the young woman.

Of course, she had ignored him with her eyes pointed towards the top of the tent. Few people would have been able to tell that she was retrieving a better look at the two men who had let their information about the King and the delivery slip so liberally.

When Sicarii did not promptly respond to the merchant he raised his voice, “You no bit, you no welcome!”

Once again Sicarii did not answer. She neared the edge of the tent near a makeshift shelf composed of a few bone melded pieces. She poised herself over the table as if to suggest that she was examining a few of the seemingly valuable pieces. But her intrigue had begun to be her downfall.

“You no touchy!” The merchant said snagging the girl by her shoulder and pushing her aside.

Sicarii had been pushed with so much force that she stumbled out of the tent. It was all she could do not to take a header on the cobblestone path mottled with cracked tiles and some that were missing all together. Her pole scattered across the ground and with both hands she was barely capable of holding herself up on all fours.

“You son of a reaper raper!” Sicarii shouted as she pawed the ground for her staff in an attempt to keep up her charade.

She quickly found it sliding her hands through the shallow dusting of sand that covered the stone. She slowly pushed herself up to a crouching. Of course, by that time the two men had already begun to move on and Sicarii was losing valuable ground.

She slowly climbed to her feet. The merchant had begun to approach her. He reached for Sicarii but she was not to be crossed. In an inadvertent manner that appeared all too coincidental, the young woman planted a section of her staff right between the merchant’s legs. It was the fat slob of a foreigner could do not to completely destroy his own tent as he stumbled back.

Sicarii had slowly gotten to her feet. She stared at the men who were slowly walking away; the men that had previously informed her of the King’s delivery. She pointed at them and spoke. But she did not speak to them; however, but to the merchant withering on the ground.

“If you ever touch me again the intense flame of Jhalla’s lips will caress your skin in a deep embrace that will leave your remains charred beyond recognition!”

[PrinceAlim]

Normally it was not in his duties to wander around the city patrolling the streets but a certain incident had caused a hightened mood for the inquisition. His younger sisters birthday was cause for celebration, but a recent capture of a spy reveiled that it was an oppertunity for something worse. With his sisters well being at stack Alim took a personal effort to explore and protect. The common areas where were he was going to consentrate. He had just made his way down the parade and through the Prefect of Law before arriving at the commons. He was cloaked in a wonderfully crafted grey cloak that reflected the sun keeping him cool and protecting his identity to every one. Alim heard two of his soldiers talking about the delivery of something, he missed what they said. He did note they were discussing assignments openly in the market. Perhaps he was on edge from it dealing with protection of his sister, but he was not happy with information flowing so free. He started off for them stepping past some street girl rifraf playing with her stick and assualting merchants. She looked too poor to care about so he continued on.

"You two. Karten and his partner." Alim knew one of the soldiers. Karten was an inquisitor for a short time before headind back into the city guard. Other then his name Alim knew nothing about him. Alim approched them and drew down his hood. "I heard you two discussing your assignment. And it displeases me greatly to know you are devulging information so freely."

The two guards turned around and looked at Alim. Karten snapped a salute instantly while the other guard looked blankly. Karten nudged him whispering. "Royal Inquisitor..."

The second guard snapped straight and threw his salute. "Pardon me sir, you are not in your standard attire. Forgive my ignorance."

Karten stepped forward. "Sir we were only discussing wine delivery, that is far from important. If had been serious we would have held our tongues."

Alim's expression was still stern and angered. "Tell me again if you know how our prior Lord of Jhalla perished."

Both guards tried to think. Each looked puzzled and could not find the answer. It was not common knowledge but he figured two seasoned guards would know.

"Poisoned by wine. So if my sister dies because the wine is poisoned I'm taking both of you and removing your hands and feet and dragging you through the city by rope behind Calix as the commoners throw their pots upon you. And should your bodies still live I shall string you upside down from the city gates till the blood in your bodies causes your heads to rupture." Alim was quite loud and serious. Niether guard even muttered a single word and headed off as they knew better then to question Alim.

Alim flipped his hood back up hoping his outburst had not created much of a scene.

[Sicarii]

“So these two men are guards of the city?” Sicarii thought to herself as she finally got up to a standing position.

Sicarii had regained her composure just in time to watch the two men scurry off in fear for what she had apparently misinterpreted as their job. Her confusion showed on her furrowed brow, which was slightly concealed by the cloth that misrepresented her as a blind woman.

“This is what passed for guards in this town…even those in Forwell were better dressed for the job and they were struggling to survive under Nangros’ terrible reign!” Or so Sicarii thought, “No armor…what easy targets they would be for any quick-witted assassin…” Of course, she would not dwindle on such ridiculous thoughts.

Even as she struggled with confusion in both a mental and physical state, the face that had verbally assaulted these two guards was very familiar. Not by personal experience but by banner she had viewed in the Prefect of the Inquisition. What was he doing outside of his upper class proper dwelling? Why would he sink so low as to occupy his time with the worthless people?

Perhaps the Royal Inquisitor had fallen ill. It would certainly explain the case of poor judgment. It would appear that he had certainly overstepped his boundaries. He did not control the Prefect nor did he assume position as the Captain of the Guard. These men who appeared more like outlandish thieves were actually guards. What madness was this?

“What is the Royal Inquisitor doing in the public with the commoners?” Sicarii began to wonder.

Her confusion was well warranted from the information available. The Royal Inquisitor was defined to be a link between the Royal Family and the Inquisition. It was strange enough to see such a member comingling with the general populace. But actually interacting with the guard? The other nobles would surely have a great laugh at his expense had such a rumor dripped into their ears like a honey potion that would have them crying out for their great Monarch.

“Unprotected by any level of bodyguard…even the most dim-witted assassin could remove this blemish from the face of the city. What would be greater to put a smile on Nangros’ ugly mug? More importantly, it would weaken the royal family and shift the tides back towards the people; the people that have long since been forgotten as the corner stone of the city.” She thought silently.

Despite the distance between the free world and the Realm of Nangros, the people were still enslaved by one person or another. The poor were held back by the incessant squabbling of the rich and powerful. The rich men squabbled and the poor men died. When the rich men were done squabbling, still the poor men died. Many of the economically downtrodden dreamed of being under the control of Nangros with the belief that better opportunities would arise in the greater chaos.

Sicarii was simply one of those people who wanted to be free from the control of any man. Her employer, be it not the Blood Lord had offered her the best situation for the time being. She would certainly consider new situations given the opportunity to improve her own well being.

“Oddly enough, Prince Alim was well aware of the guards by name; or at least, one of them by name and the other merely by association. How curious that is…perhaps, perhaps this is simply a trick.”

Sicarii’s suspicion may have been misplaced. Unfortunately, the concept would not be far from the standard procedure of the Inquisition at any level. Despite what may have existed in the city, the Inquisition was the most corrupt sack of fricken dung in the entire city. Or so that was the belief on the lower levels of the city’s economic ladder.

“What was that? The previously Lord of the Prefect of Jhalla had been slain by poisonous wine? That was certainly a long shot in the dark if I had ever heard one.” Sicarii had thought tightening her lips and pursing them to one side, “How would wine do something like that…”

What the Inquisition may have failed to interpret was the condition in which the previous Lord of the Prefect of Jhalla had died in. As it had been told on the streets and reacted as a quarantine of the Prefect from the rest of the city for little more than a week was that the previous Lord had been infected by the Black Death. The previous Lord was not the first to be infected. The people were quite aware of its potent dangers. Even the High Priest of Jhalla had announced that the city ‘had’ to be quarantine to avoid spreading the nasty disease to the rest of the city. No one understood and there were riots in the streets. But the tension quickly dissipated once the quarantine had to be lifted.

“What was that bugger’s name?” Sicarii thought to herself as she tried to remember how the disease progressed, “It was Ashford, nearly six years ago. We thought he just had a cold…we thought he was simply out in the sun too long. But...when he had gotten the chest pains and we called the healers, they said it was too late. They revealed to us that his flesh has turned black and stank of death and decay…There was nothing we could do…the healers were dumbfounded…”

Sicarii as well as a number of others would later find out that the Black Death had no cure in the later stages and even in the earliest stages that it only had a chance of being cured. As it were, rumor had spread that it could be the result of a number of things such as food prepared incorrectly. Unfortunately, Sicarii lost a great friend that day. One who had showed her the ropes in Corvallis and had even helped her establish a presence as a blind woman in the city to keep her from being suspected of any foul play while she stole for survival. Many questions were left unanswered.

“If…if the Inquisition knew the previous Lord had been poisoned, why did the High Priest not know….” The gears and cogs in her head began to move. The cobwebs tore away from the corners and the dust was rustled from the darkest nooks in her mind, “The inquisition sat on this information and they forced us restrained against our will…could they be behind this disease? Did they kill the Lord?”

Whether or not it was a viable theory was beyond her commoner’s knowledge. She knew nothing of political theory or religious speculation. She only knew what the underground and money had afforded her. Beyond the reach of a nearly empty wallet, the girl was virtually impossible to come by anything reliable. But even the most outlandish rumors had some level of reliability in them.

Even as Sicarii had staggered to her feet, she could see other people gawking in awe. The general population was poor but they were not stupid. They knew who the important figures were by reputation and rumor even if they rarely wandered beyond their protective walls.

Sicarii could not help but smile in amusement as the Prince turned his back and headed off to wherever he went when he was not doing his job or when he was. There was often a joke among the commoner that the Inquisition in fact had no purpose except to irritate the commoners and make the King look silly. Of course, as the Prince walked away no one even cracked a smile. They were not stupid. They had eyes. They knew that if the Royal Inquisitor had heard any such snickering they would see Matrim before their mouths could part in apology.

“What am I to do now…?” Sicarii thought to herself as she prodded the ground trailing behind the Royal Inquisitor.

[PrinceAlim]

As Alim continued on his rounds of the area he came across Lord Khul amungst the populous. He was just the man to see. Alim this time did not lower his hood but approached Magnus. "Lord Khul a moment of your time." The Lord turned toward the familiar voice to see the cloaked man. He stepped back a half step, but stopped once he could see the signet brooch on the cloak. As Magnus took in the breath to speak Alim raised his hand and put a finger to purse the lips of the Lord. "I just came across some of your hireling guards giving out information as if it was ale at festival night at Porguts. Which is where I am sure you found them. Now I may be over stepping my area of expertise, but I gave them a few words of warning that may have stretched the truth. I hope in the future you can make sure you guards are higher quality then that inquisition dropout Karten."

Lord Khul was speechless. He felt Prince Alim was quite an arrogant brat who felt he had the power to tell anyone anything. But Lord Khul was quite smart enough to know not to deal with Alim. It was more of a hassle then anything else. "Words taken Prince, you can continue with your patrol and I shall deal with my people." Khul had no plans in dealing with the situation other then to just get Alim out of his business.

Alim snapped his cloak and moved again back to watching the people. Perhaps something else would arrive.

[Sicarii]

Sicarii was wise to follow the Royal Inquisitor at a distance. Her staff prodded the menagerie cobblestones with every step. With every step closer she hoped to gain more and more information. Yet, as it were, there was nothing of any direct value.

“What could the Royal Inquisitor want with this oaf? Khul is about as sharp as a ball of wax!”

She approached the very tent the two men were speaking beneath. Sicarii bumped the table leg with her staff before coming to a stop. She stood staring into the tent. There was nothing to be seen in front of her eyes. Not a single piece of merchandise. The shop keeper directed his attention to her for only a short moment before turning back towards the goods he had stashed behind him. Sicarii did little to provoke the merchant into turning away. She simply did not respond to his advances.

Sicarii turned her head just in time to catch the Lord of the Prefect of Guere identifying the brooch on the Royal Inquisitor’s cloak. She did not notice it before. She was lucky enough to catch the glimpse of his face and found the forked tongue behind his teeth just a despicable. She decided keeping that brooch in mind while wandering the city could be very helpful in the future. So as she followed Magnus’ eyes down towards the brooch s he made a point to commit it to memory.

“Hirelings…it explains a lot, they must be trying to earn some money to buy some armor. They don’t look like they’re from Cosvell…I wonder if they are trying to escape the reach of Nangros.”

Sicarii acted as if she was capable of perusing the wares of the tent Lord Khul was standing in. As it were, she was facing the wrong direction and had begun to reach out as if to pick something straight from mid-air. Despite the actions that the Prince had taken to silence the Lord he did nothing to soften his own voice. Sicarii had picked up on everything he had to say.

“Nothing very interesting…but, what is this overreaction to the wine. It must be some great stuff? Nangros was looking for blood but surely he would be able to enthrall his taste buds with a bit of tasty sustenance.”

But what the young woman found most intriguing was the reaction that Lord Magnus Khul carried on his person. He appeared restrained. Not by the Prince per say but more so by his own doing. His face had begun to redden. His eyelids had started to droop while the glossy look of irritation covered his eyes. As Lord Khul stood still, he clenched his teeth. More importantly, his response to the Prince might as well have been one great five knuckle shuffle to the face.

“Hmm…perhaps more information is needed on this Lord Khul. He is certainly restrained; if Alim was someone other than a Prince the Lord surely would have hit him. What would it take to set this man off? More importantly, how could it be used to the advantage of Nangros’ cause.”

Sicarii stood her ground even as the Royal Inquisitor took his leave. She was intent on watch the reaction of this Lord Khul once the Prince was gone from the picture. It was simply more information that could be used to obtain the proper tools for the job when the time arise.

After much prodding by the perturbed merchant in regards to the sale, Lord Magnus Khul quickly turned around. He reached out for the merchant’s throat and snagged him by the collar. The large ex-Soldier had nearly pulled him entirely over the table. Magnus pulled the merchant’s face close to his. So close that they could taste each other’s breath.

“If you think you’re going to peddle this priceless religious artifact without consequence, you’ve best think again.” Lord Magnus Khul sternly stated.