Untitled TSL Campaign
Herein lies the chronicles of five reluctant heroes. God-touched, fortune-favored, somewhat bumbling protagonists who find themselves, very likely, in over their heads.
The Raid
A host of hapless happenstances.
It was Markday, the 11th of Rimmar, 3162 Chrysian Reckoning. As had become tradition on Markday, it was poetry night at Central Bark Cafe in the city of Chrysanth. Central Bark sits in the immigrant neighborhood of Dogtown, just a few blocks from Neuros University, and therefore is often host to a heady mix of both the bohemian residents of Dogtown, and the bright young minds attending the University. Recently, attendance of the event had been on a steady rise, in no small part thanks to the evangelical efforts of one Davis Gilman, Lorekeeper of The Loft, the University’s temple to Canaedus, god of magic and learning. Lorekeeper Gilman had never recited a poem himself, so it was a bit of a mystery just why he was so enthusiastic about the event.
Most of Central Bark’s seating is outdoors, a mix of tables of various sizes and a section of benches all facing a modest stage. The area is magically enchanted so that those seated in the benches can hear even a whisper from the stage. Barista and Mxtress of Ceremonies, Anita, took to the stage.
“Good evening everyone! Welcome to poetry night at Central Bark. We already have a few signups, but it’s not too late to throw your name into the ring! But tonight, I’ll be starting us off. Ahem.“
“Would you rather see a soldier Or a farmer when you hunger Would you rather see a soldier Or a doctor when you ache?”
In the audience, one Diana Thayer, captain of the NIS Dauntless and commander in Their Imperial Navy, spotted someone she thought she knew. She slid over a seat, and leaned forward to whisper in the ear of he young man seated in the row in front of her.
“Are you on a mission? Is it dangerous to be here?”
“Everything’s fine. And you don’t know me.” said Dabi curtly, even though he was most certainly exactly who Diana thought he was. Perplexed by the latter statement, but temprorarily relieved by the former, Diana sat back in her seat.
“Would you rather see a soldier When your house is split by thunder Or would a carpenter be better To repair what’s in its wake
Some offer us soldiers Instead of what we need It’s all for protection they claim And that I will concede
But who do they protect And who is their master What lives will they leave wrecked As they lead us to disaster.”
A smattering of applause, snaps, and whoops greeted the end of Anita’s recital. She smiled, adjusting the vest she wore which had many pockets, each with a small plant growing from it.
“Thank you,” she removed the paper she had been reading from the clipboard in front of her and slid it into a pocket, then scanned the page underneath. “Next up we have Roy!” Anita hopped down off the front of the stage and took a seat on the nearest bench.
Another smattering of applause, but this time Lorekeeper Gilman leapt up and started clapping far more enthusiastically than anyone else in the crowd. A middle-aged Vembila in purple robes with gold embroidery climbed the steps onto the stage and calmly made their way to the podium.
“Some of you may be familiar with part of this story. But here’s the version I enjoy.”
“Through archipelagos of mist where salt and sorrow blend, Six wanderers traced the serpent-paths that spiral and descend. Dune, ocean-born, with darkness in his eyes, Karria whose fingers traced the truth between the lies, Coralina who heard the heartbeat where the ocean meets the sand, Vera, root and branch, untamed by human hand, Ro, keeper of the words that bind and break, Fleak, whose sight pierced veils no mortal mind could take. So sight proves bitter wine to drink, When watchers see beyond the brink.
Above them turned the Deathless Two, eternal as the plane, Iliana’s burning light and Korin’s shadowed flame.
They found it carved in grieving stone where moss and memory meet, The sepulcher of one who laid their godhood at Love’s feet, And crossed the threshold mortals call the ending of all things, To find what void or mystery a god’s own dying brings. A god’s own dying brings.
Within: vermillion tablets stained with truths too sharp to speak, Not recipes for power that the selfish often seek, But mirrors polished perfect-bright that showed each seeker’s face The truth that flesh is costume, and the soul knows its own place. The soul knows its own place.
The Shadow traced the azure marks and smiled winter’s grin, The Painter read the spaces where the meanings hid within, The Far-Seer’s eyes grew clouded with the weight of what would be, The others each with their own eyes took in what they could see. Took in what they could see.
To dark Koranth the Shadow sailed, where lava meets the sea, And drawing crimson conclusions from fragments, did he Spill blood upon the altar as the door, but not the key, For Death had always lived in him, waiting to be free.
When Painter felt his hunger turn to her with divine thirst, She fled back to the tomb to learn what loved the Darkness first. Ten nights she painted with pigments both of matter and of dream, Until Creation saw itself reflected in her gleam.
The Tide-Walker found her godhood where the breakers kiss the stones, The Leaf-Dancer shed her name where roots are nature’s bones, The Word-Keeper spoke syllables that predated the dawn, Each finding their own doorway, each becoming what they’d drawn.
No single path had brought them there, no map could mark the way, For divinity’s thin membrane wraps the souls who dare to say: “I am more than mortal seeming, more than flesh and fear and doubt, I am what I have always been; I merely turned myself about.”
Suddenly, a troup of Imperial legionnaires materialized around the clearing where Central Bark sits. Led by High Commander Georgina vel Usha herself. Leader of the Imperial Guard and right hand of the Emprix. Dozens of swords were unsheathed and now pointing at the startled attendees.
“By order of Their Imperial Majesty, Emprix Jania vel Niem, you are all hereby under arr…”
‘Roy’s’ eyes flashed violet and he snapped his fingers and the legionnaires all froze. Georgina’s mouth hung open mid proclamation.
“I wasn’t finished.” He cleared his throat.
“A thousand cycles passed beneath the new pantheon’s reign, As mortals built their temples high and sang through joy and pain. The Death God whispered promises into the rulers’ dreams, While Wild Ones worked to show them all, nothing’s as it seems.
The Artist painted visions neither freedom’s call nor chain. The Keeper carved their secrets all, their memory not to wane. And over years by others joined, some familiar and some new, Such is how the old gods died, and fresh divine alchemy grew.
At last an Empire rose to give each deity their due, And many more would rise in time, each upon their cue. Still secrets sleep in Sorrow’s tomb for those with eyes to see, And power gathers round the souls who recognize they’re free. Who know that they are free.”
‘Roy’ turned his gaze to Georgina. “Watch yourself.” He raised his hand, snapped once more, and vanished.
”…est,” finished Georgina. Eyes wide, she scanned the crowd for any further dangers. “You are all hereby under arrest!”
Chaos erupted as the legionnaires moved in, attempting to herd the crowd together. Anita jumped into action, drawing a large mace and swinging wildly. Six legionnaires moved in to subdue her, which created enough of an opening for two-thirds of the attendees, who moments before had simply been enjoying a night out on the town, to flee from the clearing. Dabi had already slipped away the moment the legionnaires had started to close in. Diana, on the other hand, strode directly towards Georgina, sure that her military standing would get her out of whatever was happening.
“Diana Thayer, commander in Their Imperial Navy, captain of the NIS Dauntless,” she said, placing a fist over her heart in the Imperial salute. “What’s this all about?”
“I have orders to arrest everyone here on suspicion of sedition against the Empire,” said Georgina. She seemed tired and wary.
“Surely that doesn’t apply to a Commander in Their own Imperial Navy?”
“Surely it does. Are you turning yourself in?”
“But I haven’t seen any seditious activity, it’s just a poetry reading.”
“I have my orders, are you turning yourself in peacefully?” Her hand moved calmly but assuredly to the hilt of her sword.
“But I…”
“Peacefully or not, I have my orders.”
“Very well.”
Georgina motioned to a nearby legionnaire, who produced a pair of cuffs and placed them upon Diana. Meanwhile, Anita, observing her actions had allowed bystanders to escape, and that there was probably not much more that could be achieved while being so vastly outnumbered, dropped her mace and raised her arms in surrender. In short order, under the precise and practiced leadership of High Commander vel Usha, Anita, Diana, Lorekeeper Gilman, and the other innocent bystanders not fortunate enough to escape were cuffed, chained together, and being marched through the city streets. Their final destination yet to be disclosed.
The Escape?
Wherein we meet the Emprix
A number of blocks away, in not quite the opposite direction of where our other protagonists were being paraded down the streets, two former poetry night attendees had stopped near each other in an alley to catch their breaths.
“Should we do something?” asked Jace. “I think they just arrested Lorekeeper Gilman!”
“I… do not know who that is,” replied Valeria, straightening her maid’s uniform.
“Have you never been to the Loft?” No sign of recognition. “At the University?”
“Do I look like a student?” asked Valeria.
“He’s a cleric of Canaedus. A respected member of the University. He’s practically an institution!”
“I’m more worried that they appear to have a friend of mine.”
“What should we do. Can we talk to someone?”
“I’m going to go see where they’re being taken.”
“I’ll join you,” said Dabi, stepping out from an alcove in a nearby building. The other two jumped.
“Were you there the whole time?” asked Jace. Dabi shrugged. “Well, I think we should talk to someone. Someone at the University would surely want to know about this. Maybe the High Dean?”
“Good luck with that,” said Valeria.
Jace grimaced. “Fine then,” they harumphed and marched off towards the University.
“Can you stay unseen?” asked Dabi. Valeria looked slightly insulted.
“Of course.”
It was easy enough to catch up to the legionnaires and their prisoners. Even from some distance a company of legionnaires is easily tracked, especially when they have a begrudging contingent of bewildered captives rattling along with them. True to its word, Valeria was scarcely more noticable than Dabi’s own shadow as they trailed the company through the streets that would empty at the soldiers approach and then slowly revive in its wake. They stayed right on the soldiers’ trail, despite somehow looking like they were headed nowhere in particular, blending into the crowds and slipping through the city like a bat through the night.
Shortly, it became quite evident the prisoners were being taken to the Palace itself. The company had made it’s way to Nightward Avenue, and were now marching squarely towards the metaphorical heart of the city. Dabi ducked into an alley and signaled Valeria to follow. She did so nonchalantly.
“If they’re going to the Palace there’s no way we’d be able to follow,” said Dabi.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Do you think I’m wearing this uniform for fun?” asked Valeria, with a Vanna White-esque gesture to its outfit.
“I didn’t want to assume anything. Wait… Are you saying you work at the Palace?” Valeria nodded sarcastically. “So you have a way in?”
“I have a way in for me. I don’t think I could get you in.”
Dabi went to the edge of the alley and peered down Nightward Ave.
“I think there’s a building over there with a pretty good sightline into the Palace. I’ll climb up there, you get close and see if you can find out what’s going on.”
“Easy enough.”
The pair headed back out into the street. The Palace was now clearly in view, and the legionnaires and their prisoners were nearly at the front gate. The Imperial Palace of Chrysanth was a spectacle, intentionally so. Made mostly of enchanted glass, eight large hallways arranged as spokes around the throne room allowed a clear view of the crystalline throne itself from nearly any direction. The throne caught the sunlight and reflected it outward in all directions like a prism. It had to be carefully crafted and enchanted not to blind anyone who looked at it while too close. Dabi made their way to the building they had spotted, and was relieved to find that it in fact had an alley around the back that would allow him to scale it unnoticed. They did so with impressive ease, moving from drain pipe to windowsill to balcony to rooftop with an alacrity most parkour runners would be envious of.
Valeria made her way to a different building, one that jutted right up against the wrought-iron fence that encircled the Palace. A hedge maze had been grown on the Palace side of the fence, and much of the fence had been swallowed by the shrubbery. This fact hid very well that a person-sized hole had been cut in the fence, just between two of the bushes. Valeria deftly and expertly slipped right through the bushes and into the maze proper on the inside of the Palace fence. There were a tad more guards than usual, but they rarely patroled the inside of the maze, too many had gotten lost and been late to report in. Valeria, however, knew the maze very well. After making sure there weren’t any leaves or branches in her hair, she headed off for the side entrance that led directly from the interior of the Palace into the maze. Once inside the Palace, it made its way towards a side entrance to the thrown room, and began studiously dusting while it listened in.
The company and its reluctant guests marched straight into the throne room. Anita eyed every possible shadow. As Zwischen, they could shadow-step short distances. As they scanned the room though their eyes met those of one of the legionnaires, who smiled knowingly and shook their head. They were also Zwischen. Getting out of here would not be so simple.
Diana, on the other hand, was managing to somehow look both indignant and frightened, as they were marched directly up the the throne of the Emprix theirself. The Emprix Jania vel Niem sat lazily upon the throne, one leg over the armrest. Nearly in her lap sat a scantily clad servant, an open book they had appeared to be reading to the Emprix open in their own lap, and a bowl of fruit to their side that the would occassionally feed to Jania. Georgina approached the throne.
“Your Majesty.”
Jania glanced over, as if just noticing the large company of legionnaires and prisoners that had entered the throne room. Their impartial gaze swept over the assembled captives, sharpening as it returned to Georgina.
“Is this all of them?”
“There were unforeseen impediments. Possibly of a divine nature.”
“Really? Who?”
“Unclear. A Vembila poet.”
“Hmm.” Jania’s gaze returned to the prisoners and alighted upon Diana. “Commander, am I to understand you were taking part in this subversive gathering?”
“Umm,” Diana gulpled, “I didn’t think it was subversive, your Majesty. It was just a poetry reading. I mean, I guess some of the poems might have been a little subversive.”
“Mmhmm. Are any of those subversive poets here? I’ll tell you what. Point them out, and everyone else is free to go.”
Diana looked around for the first time at the other captives around her. She saw Anita, and raised her arm and pointed.
“Her.” Jania waited. And waited.
“Is that it?”
“Only two poems were recited, your Majesty. And the other poet, um, disappeared?”
“Right then. What about the one that has been promoting this event so fervently?”
Georgina stepped forward. “That one,” she said, pointing at Lorekeeper Gilman.
“Also Vembila. Interesting. Those two stay, everyone else may go.”
Georgina made a motion and the legionnaires began herding Diana and the others back out of the throne room. Diana looked semi-apologetically at Anita as she shuffled past her. Anita seem nonplussed. Jania’s cold gaze now fell upon them.
“Seditious poet, eh?”
“I didn’t think it was particularly seditious, your Majesty.”
“Oh, let’s hear it then.”
“Hmm?”
“The poem. I enjoy the arts. Recite it for me, and I’ll be the judge of its seditiousness.”
“Oh, okay.” Anita patted the pockets of her vest, then pulled out the poem she had read at Central Bark. She unfolded it carefully, looked down, and began reciting something else entirely.
“A Sidhe filed her taxes in rhyme, six years late (but on Fey Isle time). The auditor wept, the collector just slept, and the Empire declared it a crime.”
Jania laughed. “You’re funny. You should come to one of my parties sometime. You can go too.”
Georgina motioned one of the remaining legionnaires to take Anita away as well.
“What about Lorekeeper Gilman?” asked Anita.
Jania’s expression went from laughter to deadly in an instant. “That is none of your concern.”
In a rare moment of restraint, Anita let herself be led out of the throne room without further questions. Georgina tailed behind, after giving instructions to the two remaining legionnaires now only guarding Lorekeeper Gilman. Georgina was apparently intent on making sure all the ‘guests’ properly vacated the Palace grounds. Valeria trailed behind, casually dusting statues and paintings. At the doors of the Palace, Georgina came face to face with a meek looking Head Dean Adelson and a less meek looking Jace.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
The Head Dean looked unsure what exactly he was here for.
“You arrested Lorekeeper Gilman!” exclaimed Jace.
“Yes. On suspicion of seditious activity.”
“But he wasn’t… he was just promoting a poetry reading.”
“They were there,” offered the Head Dean unnecessarily, tilting his head towards Jace. Adelson was clearly okay with the idea that this might mean Jace needed to be arrested as well. Georgina sighed.
“Everyone else has been released. The Emprix still has questions for Gilman. Leave now.”
“He’s a member of the University, shouldn’t House Canae be handling this?” At Jace’s question, the Head Dean got a thoughtful expression, as if this had never occurred to him.
“This does seem like a House matter. Perhaps we should petition the Emprix to release the Lorekeeper into House Canae custody?”
Georgina rolled her eyes. “If I agree to bring such a petition to the Emprix, will you leave?”
“Oh certainly, yes. Right away,” said Adelson obsequiously, but without moving.
Georgina sighed again, heavier. “I will bring your request to the Emprix’s attention. Now leave.”
“So kind of you.” Adelson began heading for the exit.
“But…” stammered Jace. Georgina eyed them down until they too turned heel and fled.
“This isn’t what my job is supposed to be,” muttered Georgina.