The cool breeze and the brief relief from the oppression of the Summer's heat brought with it a cooling mist. Not a true rain but persistent enough to leave a pleasant moisture that left one cool and refreshed. The worn interlocked path leading to the Villa slowly darkening as the stone and soil beneath gradually grew damp with each barely scene droplet.

The clatter of Marengo's hooves upon that very stone forming a rhythmic cacophony that slowly wormed into the mind and banished thoughts of tomorrow and fate with the abandon of the moment. A small thing but one that made it easy to bear the burden of fading fortune and strange new truths of the self.

Along the way the usual medley of travelers, splendid and otherwise, wandered into the bustling heart of Chieri.

Steadily and hardly slowly, the features of the city slowly consumed the landscape until Alessandro found him in the bustling, ever beating hearts of commerce that defined the public squares. The grand marble structures of Merchant Company Offices, Banks, and sundry places of Business rose up all around him with the humbler plaster and wood that catered to those not blessed with the free flow of gold and goods. All painted in bright and bold colours that spoke to an energetic and vibrant culture. The scents of varied spices, food, and drink upon that cool summer's breeze, burdened further by the lively language of the people ever engaged in trade. Storm nor drizzle slowing commerce for even an instant.

The foreigners who had sailed or rode from far away as evident as a nail not struck flush with the wall. Their clothes, as often as not, drab in comparison to the favoured riot of colour that spoke to the lively spirit of Vissio's people. Their accents and manners just that much more so yet they were as welcome as any so long as the coin was minted of precious medal and bore up to the discerning eye of a Master Minter.

It was by necessity that Marengo's lively gait had to be reined in as the press of men and women became all but unavoidable. Fortunately, both horse and rider new the way well to the square of Champions that rested at the heart of the city. Named for the unusual confluence of fate that saw a dozen rival dueling academies rise up within perilous distance of each other. The discourses between them all a matter of local legend and, occasionally, regrettable history. Gentlemen, after all, when impassioned could fall to the most uncivil of conduct.

Marengo needed no direction as they worked their way through the press of the exotic crowds in the Square of Champions and its array of marble statues guarding the perimeter. Alessandro took a private pleasure in seeing naïve foreigners quickly make way for the young nobleman, tarnished as his reputation was in the city of his birth. It was a small thing but it brightened the proud young man's day.

Soon the pair arrived at the Luogo di Ubriachi, a middle class inn providing stables to travelers and a place to relax for locals, students, and others. It was a bit sedate by some standards but it was both moderately inexpensive while providing reliable stables and good food. Alessandro slides off Marengo and greets the stableman with a wave and a few coins dropped into his hands. Marengo was in good hands.

The strolling rake enters the crowds and stalls littering the great square, his experienced eyes on the look out. It was said that a merchant selling books of exotic and rare quality had recently taken up space. Alessandro is eager to meet him and see what he has to share.

The average man didn't pay much mind to the coming and going of the Nobility in terms of fortune and favour as long as it didn't hurt their business or their families. The Stablehand was no exception as he took the coin and tipped his broad had respectfully as he took the reins and guided Marengo into the stables of the inn. A little chit passed into Alessandro's hand to indicate which stall and mark him as the owner of the horse. A custom that had come into place after some scoundrels had taken to fooling a few of the less wary stable managers and making off with a horse.

The crowds, however, brought back all the unpleasant heat and humidity of summer with their vibrancy and liveliness. The only concession to personal space made when a glimpse of steel or noble heraldry was caught at the last moment.

Many things, however, were said in the markets of Vissio and they had to be taken with a grain of salt and researched properly. A few questions here and there among the Academics that roamed the Square were able to give Alessandro a lead or two on collectors of rare and strange tomes but not necessarily direct him to this rumoured merchant. It was ultimately with the help of an acquaintance from the academy, his name forgotten as easily as it was learned, that he was directed to a small and hardly glamorous shop tucked into a shadowed alley. A place that made one feel either cozy or fearful depending no their prerogatives and skill with a blade. Light flickered from the stained glass windows and a plain sign free of the usual garish colours hung over the door. Swaying faintly on the chaotic breezes that swept through the alley way.

The breeze swirling down the alley pushed along tumbling flyers that briefly caught on Alessandro's shoe as he stepped over it. He searched the gloom and corners for potential threats and wondered if his acquaintance had partners waiting for somebody naïve enough to follow his directions. Hand on the dueling dagger's pommel he strode down the alley way to the shop door. Pushing the door rang a bell and he stepped into the shop to take a good look around.

As Alessandro stepped in, he was greeted by a soft voice from the back of the store. Hardly the stern, masculine tones that rumor and hearsay had led him to expect. A woman`s voice by any measure but one that bore a certain timidness that may not have belonged in the voice of a merchant or scholar. The sounds of rummaging and busy work all the more apparent as he slid between the neatly packed shelves towards the commotion. Each ladden with tomes ranging from slim, gold bound volumes to heavier affairs that proudly counted atlas' and encyclopedias as their brothers and cousins.

It was, finally, that he found a small woman in black gown and shawl atop a ladder drawing books from a small tray and laying them in careful order atop one of the highest shelves. Her complexion pale and hair no less so hinting at a northern descent and whatever chilling associations one might draw. Notably, however, her eyes were obscured behind silver and silk yet she still moved with the surety of one in full possession of their faculties of sight.

"Welcome to the Old Memory, I can help you in a moment." she greeted with a glance as she set another book atop the shelf. True to her word, it didn't take her more than a moment before she worked her way down the ladder with soft patters of feet and slid it into the small alcove at the end of the shelf. She bowed politely then towards Alessandro with hands clasped before her lap. Allowing a glimpse of the intricate braid her blonde hair was worked into and the small silver clasps that helped it retain such structured form.

"Can I help you find something? Treatises on dueling perhaps? Noble histories? Trade law?" she offered helpfully but not disrespectfully with her presumptions as to his purpose. All easy and likely often enough accurate guesses at the purposes of her small shop's visitor but edging towards more esoteric topics with how such suggestions trailed off into patient silence.

The change from the dubious alley to the nearly stately array of book shelves making up 'the Old Memory' is amazing and Alessandro wonders how he could of missed such a golden place as this while a student. Usually such places were swarmed with students looking for the latest bit of academic trivia to wow their compatriots and professors with.

The discovery of the shop's proprietress drew him from his reverie as he drew one hand along the spine of books. With a respectful return bow the young nobleman introduces himself,"Forgive me interruption, Madame, I was merely window shopping and happened to discover your shop tucked away in the corner of the Square. It is quite an amazing collection you have. I wonder how I never discovered this in my days at the Grand Cervello Academy."

He straightens and looks about at the vast array of books, "Perhaps you could help me? I have been looking for a complete copy of Zoltan Katar's Celestial Diaries, volume 9? He is a rather obscure magician of one of the so-called Bleak Academies of the Raktine Confederacy. I've only a very incomplete copy." 

To determine the woman's ethnicity, Int check 7+.

22:03, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 17 using 1d20+4 ((13)).
This message was last edited by the player at 04:04, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

It was, perhaps, unsettling but her head turned to follow his gaze as he regarded a portion of her collection. The motion smooth and elegant in a way and still speaking to some visual awareness of her surroundings despite the ornate covering that hid her gaze and a fair portion of her upper features from view. Close as they were, fine gold thread could be seen worked into the otherwise total blackness of her gown and shawl. It formed fanciful patterns that seemed to have no other rhyme or reason to them but to draw the eye and entertain the mind.

An oddly appropriate accent when one considered the business she conducted here.

"I'm still a stranger to this place but not one without a certain means all my own. The collection's been a growing project over the past year or two." the Ulstanger, and there was no mistaking that was what she was, replied with a certain pride and a... foreigner's slowness to her handle of the native tongue of Vissio's sons and daughters. It didn't lack in energy or power... merely that it lacked the speed and excitement that so commonly defined it.

Her lips pursed and brought with it a hint of thoughtful lines to her otherwise smooth complexion at Alessandro's question. Her hands clasped behind her back then as she seemed to speak quietly to herself. Summoning memory through recitation and other little tricks of memory that had been shown to him in Alessandro in his academic pursuits.

"Is there a specific language you would prefer it in? If I'm recalling my ledgers correctly... I've still a rare copy of an Oasian translation from the Cinnabar Order... and a briefer summation in Patrian." the Proprietor of the Old Memory concluded with a slight upward tilt of her head. That timidness still evident beneath her voice even as she warmed to the topic of conversation.

An Ulstanger? A collection of barbarians whose reputation was just as foul as the monster-riding tribes of the Howlers to the north of Vissio. Supposedly ruled by witch-queens and their undead slave armies. Sea raiders all along the northern coasts. A few daring raider captains had even sneaked past the Bright Republic patrols to hit spots in Vissio though such events were rare.

Why would an Ulstanger woman settle here in distant Chieri? Alessandro supposed that question answered itself in a way if she was some exile or refugee from her homeland. The many travelers from all over the world would make someone even as exotic as an Ulstanger just another face in the crowd, even in spite of her noteworthy garb. Alessandro dismisses his thoughts as idle speculation without more evidence.

"The Patrian dialect gives me a headache", jokes Alessandro thoughtfully, "And a summary is less useful to me. Let us see the quality of the Cinnabar Order's translation. As fellow magicians I suspect they would be more inclined to accuracy. And it will give me a chance to bone up on my Menekhet!"

"I am very impressed by this collection so far. You've accumulated this all in a few years? Even my family's library is not so large." What is left of it. The bitter thoughts circle in Alessandro's head.

The Ulstanger turned and extended an arm towards the back of the store. The invitation clear as day that she'd guide Alessandro to the particular treasure he desired out of her collection. A prideful smile making a home upon her lips at the compliments paid her collection and the little hints of envy that circled in the echoes of his voice. It was an expression that seemed to have a natural home upon her lips despite that timidness that had greeted the Godbound upon his arrival. It spoke to a certain depth of character that was easily guessed at regardless.

There was a story to her.

"If you'd follow me then... and pay no mind to the rumors. Contrary to their frightful reputation the Cinnabar Order doesn't enchant it's tomes and treasures to combust." the Nameless Proprietress said with good humour in kind and that still ponderous feeling handle of his native tongue. It was strange to hear a foreigner speak it so as most tried to match the speed and vivacity of others but this woman seemed content to proceed at her own pace that struck as glacial against the norm.

"It's like I said... I have my ways and I'm told I'm a frightful woman to say no to when I've a mind for something. I can never see it myself." the Proprietress said as she guided Alessandro through the rows of shelves that defined her long and claustrophobic collection. It was only after some time that she came to a stop and that thoughtful pursing of her lips returned as she turned her head this way and that along the rows of her collection before finally reaching out with both hands and drawing a heavy, leather bound tome from the shelf. The act done with all the care of an archivist that dealt in antiquities which was, in a sense, exactly what she was. Rare literature, after all, was often the last vestige of insight and knowledge otherwise lost to man and woman.

She gently opened it then and held it laid open to the table of contents across her arms for his inspection.

A smile quirked Alessandro's lips behind the propietor's back as she led him deeper into the shop. Trim, blonde, and with an academic bent...all qualities that the da Vigo found attractive in the few women he had known. Unhappily being paired with such an...unfortunate heritage as Ulstanger made her strangeness a social liability. But the woman could make a very useful contact for her collection!

Chuckling at the woman's humor Alessandro replies,"I'm sure no one builds a collection like this without being formidable."

He bends over the proffered tome and studies its Menekhet, looking for signs of authenticity. As he does so he continues,"I think there is quite a story in how an Ulstanger woman ended up in the south in my beautiful city of Chieri running a book shop. Perhaps you would grace me with the tale?"

Presuming my Fact covers appraising the book.
19:47, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 20 using 1d20+4 ((16)).

The Menekhet of the original writings were archaic but comprehensible for any reasonably fluent speaker of the language. The task made far easier by the meticulous and steady hand of the foot notes and side bars that further illuminated the manuscript and opened it up to those without a fluent grasp of the language of the Distant Oasian States. It all tied together to support the authenticity of her prior claim that it was a rare iteration of the desired work. All the same, it provided an insightful look into the core aspects of Theurgic manipulation and mechanics. Enlightening to any mind suitably burdened with an understanding of the greater mechanisms of reality... or so much jargon and gibberish as to be borderline incomprehensible.

"Certainly not when I find myself looking up at all these gentlemen... Or serving as furniture." the Proprietress added with another twist of humour and playfully commenting on the situation as she continued to hold the tome for Alessandro's perusal. A hint of humbled pride in her tone despite the casual nature of the moment.

"My shop is named the Old Memory for more than just the contents of it's shelves but for now... I'd rather leave the memories of the past to the Dead and enjoy the warmth of the future." the Ulstanger offered politely but pointedly, her manners not wholly chill but now subtly defensive at such prying. She had her reasons and there was an impression of power and past exploit that hung about her but without means or methods to gauge the manner of that power... It remained no more than a subtle impression. Still, like so many of Vissio, she seemed to have her share of skeletons in the closet... Whether they were proverbial or otherwise was a matter of educated guess work.

"Of course, madame! Of course!", Alessandro replies to her secrecy but its obvious that the man is distracted as he parses the pages. After a long minute a beaming smile lights up his face,"So that is what the old fossil meant by syncretic inflection during the orboros verses! This work is genuine!"

Turning to her he continues,"My copy of the Diaries was badly damaged by some fire ages ago leaving me to puzzle out the various meanings. Its only...uh...recently that I've been able to make headway of any of this and this cinches it! How much, fair lady?"

Alessandros suddenly realizes the bookseller had patiently been holding the heavy volume on extended arms this whole time and bashfully rescues her by taking it into his own hands.

Her arms hardly seemed tired; steady and certain in their handling of the tome even as it was taken offer hands with bashful realization of his inattention. Largely, she seemed patient and content for what could be gleamed of her expression without clear view of her eyes. Her arms clasped now before her at the question of price, crossed over her stomach in a more stern and contemplative posture as she once more quietly mouthed details and information rooted deeply into her mind. Her gaze drifting fractionally upward with the act of deliberate recollection.

"I'm certainly sorry to hear that such a fate came to pass for your own copy of the Diaries. The appraisal valued this one at 200 crowns." The Proprietress concluded as her gaze returned to Alessandro fully. The faintest impression of an invitation to negotiation present in how she postured and positioned herself along side the underlying confidence that an arrangement could be made in her allowing him to still hold the tome despite their clear differences in physicality and life styles... At least at a superficial glance.

Read Wealth 2. Essentially costing as much as a good home in the city.

da Vigo thumbed the copy of Celestial Diaries in his arms while returning the woman's hidden gaze thoughtfully. The price was considerable but not out of line for a very good copy of a historical document. Of course to anybody aware of its theurgic value it would be priceless. Still it was a considerable drain on his estate's fortunes to the point that he couldn't easily field the amount. Nor was it particularly wise of Alessandro as the head of the estate to risk so much for personal gains.

But than again he wasn't just the noble head of a dying house anymore, was he? What good were these powers if they didn't turn things around? Time to quit overthinking and worrying and use them.

"A steep price for what is essentially just a copy of an original, though admittedly a good one. Perhaps in place of coin we could work a trade of equal worth? I am not unskilled with high sorcery myself."

The Proprietress' head tilted downward as if she intended to look down the length of her hidden nose at Alessandro. The gesture almost comical for the difference in their heights but still it bore a hint of... gravitas to it that could not be ignored. Some hint of her past in that moment made all the more clear and reinforcing that subtle instinct that this strange book keeper was not one to be taken lightly. It was, naturally, a marked shift from understated pride and timid mannerisms of one confident but burdened by social stigma.

It was a tense moment of silence as she continued to studio Alessandro before relaxing and allowing her gaze to drift else where. A hand rising to tap a finger against the right side of her jaw with lips pursed in thoughtful consideration revealing little lines once more of an otherwise smooth complexion.

"If we're to have this conversation, I'd like to do so somewhere more comfortable than standing between the shelves." the Proprietress concluded with another extending of a delicate arm towards the back of the store. The slender stair case curving along the wall visible from where they stood. Her manners no less or more than they had been before when he had first stepped into the store.

His face remains amiable while he feels elated that such an offer might be accepted. Nervous too for the woman seemed to be completely unintimidated by the mention of high sorcery. It was a good night to be cautious as ne nods and follows the Proprietress to her back rooms.

Despite the impression of being sighted behind the veil of silver and silk, she still took great care in the ascent to a small suite of rooms that forms a recessed back floor of the Old Memory. It struck as much office as living place with the scents of coffee, tea, and various spices lingering in the air to form a pleasant but oddly alien ambiance despite the predominantly Vissian architecture and sensibilities. She gestured quietly towards a set of couches positioned opposite each other with a single table between them piled with various books. Far lighter subjects than theurgic mechanics or the treaties of academia... They still spoke to a mind that prefers activity to idleness.

Once Alessandro takes his seat, she settled herself opposite him and took a moment to smooth what wrinkles might have made their way into the black fabric of her gown.

"Like I said early, I'm not without my means but some things remain... beyond me in a way. Old Memories make for present curses." the Proprietress concluded with an airy gesture towards her masked features. "I've two tasks in mind... One is simpler than the other." she began now with hands folded neatly in her lap and legs crossed politely at the ankles like a proper gentlewoman despite her monstrous lineage and cultural reputation.

"A man with a good sword arm is as useful as a good author. Or so I'm told, anyway. One of my contacts has been pestering for a bit of extra help to secure something he believes can be found among the... unstable ruins  that you can find among the plains of the Howlers. The locals aren't exactly keen to cooperate with his efforts but then they're rarely keen to cooperate with anyone if history's been any sort of proper teacher." she quipped while raising a hand to forestall Alessandro from even beginning to question with a pleasant and warm twist of a smile. Her manners still every bit professional and business like speaking to some proper mercantile instinct.

"The other... is bit more grim. Like I said earlier, I prefer to leave the Past with the Dead but some things can't be escaped. I'm... blighted in a sense. The lingering wrath of a loved one. So from time to time I'm unfortunately faced with the task of... replacing my eyes." she paused and once more her head tilted forward as if she were gazing down the length of her nose at Alessandro. "Don't look at me like that! I'm not asking for yours or anyone's. I've arrangements with a local physician at one of the mortuaries. I would simply need you to pay him a visit." the Proprietress finished with a hint of pique at the assumptions made of her before settling back into her own seat with hands coming to rest in her lap again. One gesturing briefly towards Alessandro and ceding the proverbial floor to him.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Sat 09 Dec 2017.

Alessandro suffers a pang of irritation at the implication he should act as a courier. It wasn't the greatest insult considering what his current jobs entailed it still required swallowing his pride. Well...if it kept her happy and pliable that was worth some wounded pride. Brief amusement flashed through the back of his mind as the thought of necromantic arts barely entered into the equation.

The other request required negotiation considering the absurd amount of effort and danger he would have to go through for her friend.

"My mother was a Howler woman. She told me stories of what the tribes would do to interlopers who violated the ancient ruins. Nothing terrifies them so much as those stories of what comes out of them. I find it hard to believe that the tribesmen just let your friend dig through them unmolested."

The Proprietress offered a slight agreeing nod of her head at the counter point but did not otherwise acknowledge the faint impression of irritation he gave at the other favour he might perform for her. Whether understood or not, there had been an extended trust there regarding an intimate matter and payment well and above what the errand was truly worth from a financial perspective. Regardless, she remained pleasant and understanding.

"As a matter of fact, they rarely do. He, however, can be persuasive in his own right and reports have indicated that in a few of these ruins old academies, archives, and libraries still endure. Perhaps not all of their contents... but it's both his and my hope that something remains. I wouldn't be... disinclined to share in some of the fruits of that labour once I'm able to sort and translate everything." the Proprietress conceded with a slight tilt of head and rise of shoulders. It was clear enough she was feeling out the waters now as the negotiation was truly joined. Her manners as natural as ever but a certain comfort in the mercantile interaction evident.

The offer is tempting but it could be better.

"As a counter-offer give me full access to whatever you find but you can keep the originals of any books or other archival material we uncover."

In essence da Vigo was relying on the woman's adherence to a honorable bargain by giving her the keys, so to speak. But if the proprietess kept to her word it could work out quite well for both of them.

"So long as there are no unwarranted replications that start to make the rounds, I can certainly agree to those terms." the Proprietress agreed with a nod of head, a hand rising to carefully still the veils of silver and silk that obscured her eyes. The memory of her comments as to the blight she was afflicted with leading the mind to wonder as to just what might be transpiring behind. Her tone otherwise as pleasant as it had always been and her handling of the language of Vissio still striking as peculiarly ponderous yet powerful as a result of her accent.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:03, Sat 09 Dec 2017.

"Only what is necessary for my own studies of course." replies Alessandro agreeably.

"Which reminds me...we are business partners now so formal introductions are in order. I am Alessandro da Vigo of Chieri."

"Most have taken to calling me Oriana. A reference to my hair." the Proprietress, Oriana, replied in kind with a slight seated bow in introduction. The mannerism foreign to the etiquette and seemingly just as alien to the documented mannerisms of her homeland. Still, it proved a rather becoming gesture for the hint of natural grace and good nature that it seemed to convey. Even if she was still a creature deeply marked by her upbringing and social values.

"Would you like some coffee or tea? There's still a fair bit to discuss as to what'll need to be arranged and I'll have to prepare a letter of introduction for my contact to introduce you properly." Oriana continued as she rose comfortably from her seat to make her way towards a small kitchenette that lingered at the edge of the small sitting room. The view as pleasant as before with her back turned to Alessnadro but tinged now with that impression of dangerous individual and also the pressing requirement for propriety given the deal that had been struck.

"Coffee, thank you", answers Alessandro as he takes in her foreign mannerisms. 'Foreign' being a stretch in a trade city where all manner of odd customs manifested themselves.

"I do have a question. Vissio is famous for its clockwork maestros. Why not engage one of them for a set of new eyes?"

"I'm less inclined to trust the vision of something I've not made for myself when those same Maestros are also famous for their duplicity and the murderous work their artifice is put to. I'm also inclined to believe that the same blight I'm afflicted with would ultimately rust away the mechanisms." Oriana replied as she set quietly about the task of preparing coffee. The familiar strikes of imported matches catching Alessandro's ear for a moment over the more ordinary strikes of flint and steel. Eventually, a small fire was merrily burning as she set about the task of grinding the beans with the same ease that implied frequent practice in the act. Contrasted against her appearance and the almost confirmed suspicion of her sorcerous aptitude, it struck as almost bizarrely mundane.

It was a fair enough answer. "Alright, Oriana", the name rolled off the tongue,"Who exactly am I to acquire your package from?"

"Hm? You mean my eyes or the contents of the various ruins?" Oriana questioned in response as she glanced up from her busy work of minding the coffee and adjusting the fire with small words to the flames beneath the coffee pot. The scent of it filling the air and overpowering the spice in the moment as the water began to happily bubble and sing. Such done and well minded, she turned to drawing out milk and sugar from a small ice chest. Cool mist rising up from it as she levered open the lid and drew out what she needed before closing it once more with care to ensure a proper seal. Ice, gathered conventionally, was something of a commodity in it's own right.

"I only really expected you to want to undertake one or the other. If you'd like to pay a visit to the Doctor... I wouldn't argue. I've lost much of my vision by this point. I've found a few work arounds but it's... not comfortable to be without sight." the Proprietress concluded with a slight gesture of hand towards her eyes behind the veil of silver and silk. Her tone almost preposterously casual about the matter save for the hints of pain and discomfort in the undertone of being so frank about an infirmity. A crack in the facade of confidence and impressions of power.

"Your...optics. I'm at loose ends for a few hours so it cost me nothing to retrieve your package from the Doctor for you. Consider it a sign of good will toward a business partner", says Alessandro with a smile. "Its the other task that will require I settle a few things here in the city before trotting off into the Howler wastes for who knows how long."

A hint of sympathy crosses his face, polite without being overbearing, "An unfortunate circumstance regarding your vision but one I'm sure will have a solution in time. It is, if I may be blunt, an interesting problem."

Oriana continued the preparation of the coffee and laid out the pot, the delicate china cups, milk, and sugar with small tongs of silver atop a tray with a faint hint of compulsion towards proper spacing and arrangement. With equal care she gently lifted the tray and brought it to the table, unerringly laying it among the literature that had piled up atop the small coffee table.

"That's very kind of you." the Proprietress replied with a certain gratitude evident in her tone as she began pouring out the coffee and depositing two cubes of sugar into her own cup before gesturing for Alessandro to make his preference known to her. She moved with that same impression of studied surety that went at odds with her comments that most of her vision had rotted away.

"The physician is one Doctor Francesco Ricci. He's the Mortician in attendance at Fiachi's House of Rest towards the River. He's a surprisingly happy man, all things considered. It's infectious." Oriana said with a reflective and introspective note to her voice. A small smile touching her features for an instant before she returned to the topic of the curses of her past.

"It's a matter of time is my view on it as well. It is fascinating theurgic construct especially for it's persistence. I've come to an understanding of most of it's components but a way to defeat it once and for all is still a little beyond me at this point. My dear tormentor was rather, admittedly expectedly, clever in that regard." the Woman concluded before blowing gently upon the coffee. It's aroma strong and tinged by a few spices that identified it as a tropical blend. She took a sip then and relaxed back into the plush cushion of the couch.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:13, Sun 10 Dec 2017.

Alessandro made an appreciative 'hmm' as the coffee passed over his tongue. An equal thrill passed through Alessandro's chest as he engaged in a deep discussion of theurgic causes and effects about Oriana's curse. He hadn't had much time to engage in such discussions since his days at Grand Cervello Academy, with fellow students and teachers in rowdy back and forths. He missed those days before his parents had passed on. This unassuming bookshop owner was proving a valuable find in more than one way.

"I know of Fiachi's. You can see the roof from the bluff overlooking the river valley where my house sits. I know nothing more of it. Study of the body and its humors was always a bit beyond me", Alessandro replied with chuckle. At least it had been. More and more things were becoming clearer. "I should have no problem finding it."

He gazes at the veiled woman for a long moment before adding,"Its often the case in fact and myth that a curse can be lifted by killing the one responsible."

"Most people I've met are simply happy to know their bodies work rather than understanding the underlying principles of why or how. My circumstances have made it a bit of a need to understand how my mind interacts with my eyes and what I can do to make things... bearable. The nerves aren't usually the first things to go, oddly." Oriana replied and revealed something of her depth and breadth of reading in the comment. Perhaps she was driven by necessity in this regard but it spoke well enough to a curiosity when combined with her present trade and existence... All of which seemed a convenient vehicle towards the goal of ridding herself of her affliction.

She fell silent for a perceptible moment at the mention of killing the one that had cursed her. Pale hands turning the delicate china of the coffee with practiced care.

"It's a thought I haven't overlooked... but I'm reluctant. Killing and bloodshed haven't done me much good recently." The Proprietress offered with a small laugh that showed an appreciation of the irony in the statement coming from one with her lineage and cultural touch stones of raiding and pillaging at great expense to every neighboring nation.

In reply to The Proprietress (msg # 32):

"I see", said Alessandro though it was debatable that he really did. It was one thing to forgive a transgression but this curse was an act of spiteful malice renewed periodically. It reminded him of the shuddering housewives who flinched when their spouses noticed them but fiercely defended them from all accusations of abuse. Well...it wasn't Alessandro's place to be Oriana's white knight and he might be reading it wrong anyway. Besides it had nothing to do with their business.

The continued discussion of the anatomical and theurgical problems and solutions to her decaying eyes is a fascinating one that Alessandro loses himself in. Its only the ringing of the chapel bells that pulls his attention to how late it was getting.

"I'm afraid if you want your package today I'll have to take my leave now. Its been a very strange, lucrative, and pleasant discussion. May we indulge in such again, Oriana."

 

It seemed, for a moment, that Oriana had not even heard Alessandro as she drifted upon the waves of her inner thoughts. The depth of them still hidden by the veils of silk and silver but if all were as she said... He doubted there would be much to gleam in meaning or thought from the rotted wreckage of her present eyes. The thought wasn't a pleasant one despite the otherwise pleasing cast of her features.

"It has and the wards won't bother you on your way in or out for the time being. So feel free to visit and browse. Also... keep the diaries safe this time. There's some interesting reading to be had in the latter chapters about the manipulation of Natural Law. I've used the formulae here to help preserve my stock." the Proprietress offered in a marked shift away from her more somber thoughts to cheerful ones and the pleasant demeanor she had greeted him with. The timidness gone for the instant as she was allowed to leave behind at least one mask in their business dealings.

Good byes and polite formalities seen to, Alessandro stepped out of the bookshop once more. Slivers of proper sunlight cutting down between the towering structures of modern business to either side of Oriana's business. The bustle of people and city life suddenly thunder in his ears when contrasted against the pleasant and cozy silence of her establishment. There were other small blessings to be counted as the steady fall of light rain had finally passed into memory and the warmth of the season had once more begun to assert itself.

Of course, he had a visit to a rather grim place to pay before the business of the evening and unpleasant company was to be savored and enjoyed.

The heavy package of the book, covered in protective oilskins and wrapped in a leather strap for ease of carrying was slung over one shoulder as the young nobleman visits his horse at the Luogo di Ubriachi stables. Marengo lowers his ears at having been abandoned by his master but a apple soon recovers his loyalty. Having reacquainted himself with the beast and left his package among his other possessions in an innocuous saddlebag Alessandro continues his walk under the pleasant afternoon sunlight.

Life-long Familiarity with the city grants an ease of transit though the city and across the bridge among other strollers to the the morbid sanctuary of modern medicine and anatomy known as Fiachi's House of Rest.

The building was hardly out of place in the city of Chieri. It showed every hint of the people's love of aesthetics in the Patrian fashion with the vivid colours of Vissio to inform it's every aspect. It's marble facades, however, still struck as somber and reflective despite the accents of red, orange, and every hue of the setting Sun. Few people lingered upon it's steps and the neighborhood in general was one of composed silence despite clear evidence of business being done in the windowed facades of a dozen other small and related establishments.

A fitting place to find one's end and an equally fitting place for those seeking to acquire certain... things that were not always looked upon kindly by the people of Vissio. Academics, however, required cadavers and there was no better source than a Mortuary such as Fiachi's House of Rest.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:07, Wed 13 Dec 2017.

Alessandro stopped in the passing crowd to appreciate the subtle hues of the Etowah and Sienna marbles that made up the building. Engineering and sculpting had both been hobbies he had followed when time permitted and Fiachi's House of Rest was an excellent example of the mason's art.

Stepping into the building he looked about for an attendant to talk too.

"I am looking for a Doctor Francesco Ricci."

The Attendant was no more than a young boy if one were to be honest. His clothes colourful but subdued in respect for what the House of Rest meant for so many. A neat white apron adorning his front as he pauses in his labours, arms laden with a small crate.

"I think he's in his office on the second floor? That's where I last heard him anyway." he replied with a bit of confusion and a slight rise of his chin towards a side door where the silhouette of stairs could be glimpsed just beyond. He lingered for a moment to see if there was anything Alessandro needed before continuing on his way with his burden of the box.

Da Vigo nods his thanks to the attendant before ascending to the Doctor's office. Reaching the door he politely knocks and waits.

"Oh, oh... Damn it! Come in, the door's unlocked. Just... mind the stack of books." A man's voice, nasally and excited, sounded out from somewhere in the office. The faintest hint of an echo giving the impression of a large and airy space that suited the weight of marble and granite that comprised so much of the structure. The reality of the office was no different. Airy and expansive, it's confines were crammed full of various artifacts of the natural sciences right down to the rare and prized figure of a plasticized cadaver from the Bright Republic.

The man who had invited him in, however, was no where to be seen though his antics and efforts could be heard as he seemed to mutter small snippets of theory or observation to him about whatever he was about. The sound drawing Alessandro to a small examination room lined with the tools of a physician's trade turned to the grim tasks of the Mortuary business. Inside was a small man with an almost rodent like energy to him that extended tot he cast of his features but not to the point of implying some slavish devotion to instinct or a lack of intellect. By contrast, he struck as a clever man, a thoughtful one, one deserving of the title of Doctor.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:43, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"Ah...of course", Alessandro replies as he carefully navigates the precarious stacks and instruments piled about. A quick appraisal shows an intelligent and educated man distracted by his work. Probably enough that ethical concerns of a minor sort were easily ignored. Of course that was an easy guess to make considering why Alessandro was here in the first place, he thinks with a wry smile.

"Dr. Ricci? I am here as a favor to the proprietess of the Old Memories. She has a package?"

The contents of the examination room was hardly something easy upon the constitution. The length of a corpse laid out before the Doctor and his white apron stained thoroughly with the red and black of old blood. The incisions precise and methodical along the length of the body but doing little to detract from the truth of the matter. This had once been a person but as a student, himself, Alessandro understood that insight demanded deconstruction and that was no less true in the arts of combat and magic as it was in the study of the natural sciences.

At his name, the Doctor glanced up. Small spectacles sliding down the length of his prominent nose as he greeted his guest with a smile.

"Ah, Miss Orianna? Marvelous woman, how is she? She was so kind as to help me procure a few medical treatise from the Bright Republic... Leagues ahead of us it seems in the surgical arts but not so far ahead, eh?" He commented, seeming for an instant to ignore the mention of a package as thoughts raced past in his mind. He brushed his hands then upon the apron and frowned for an instant as they came away dirty still before offering a cheerful laugh as he proceed to the small sink to wash them properly. His moving away from the cadaver revealed the thorough examination of the digestive track. It was the body of a younger man if one were to hazard a guess... Felled rather specifically by what looked to be a spear wound through the stomach.

"Package though? Right, right... her curios. She has a fondness for eyes. I'd think she was an optician at this point." he added in a joke as he carefully washed his hands with soap and water. His tone remained almost perpetually cheerful. At distinct odds with his surroundings.

"Oriana is in good spirits. I too recently used her services for a rare text. She has it all on her shelves." said the nobleman as he waited patiently while trying not to touch anything. The dueling academies often brought blood with it but that was a farcry from these preserved bodies.

"To be fair I didn't inquire too deeply about the contents of her package. She seems a very private woman."

"Most excellent. That collection of hers would be the talk of the town if it weren't for... well you know how we can be when it comes to anything that might slow the flow of coin. Her people aren't a favorite of the travelled sort that come through. Neither here nor there. Hm... Right, yes, the package. I've what she asked for. Blue this time rather than hazel. Very hard colour to find... Recessive as they say in the republic need four to make two. Genetics, a strange science..." the Doctor said as he tended to the task of drying his hands. His mind wandering from topic to topic with a surprising breadth of knowledge and an apparent attention span measured in mere seconds as he walked near Alessandro from a moment and gestured with an arm out to the greater breadth of his office. The young corpse forgotten in the shadow of another task.

"Have to keep them cold, you see. Sensitive organs and more so when you've removed them." he explained.

"...I'm sure, Doctor. Fascinating." Alessandro replied neutrally. This being Oriana's contact he didn't want to alienate the strange little man but frankly he found his company unpleasant. "...the package?", he prompts.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:16, Sat 16 Dec 2017.

"It truly is not to everyone's taste but simply fascinating how all the intersections of the natural world collaborate and mesh. Man alone is simply a marvelous edifice for the nature of our physical make up. So many delicate parts, so many mechanisms, reactions, and systems yet surprisingly robust in most circumstances despite the almost... ludicrous complexity." the Doctor continued with cheerful fervor as he took the lead once more with Alessandro's reluctance to follow his extended arm. He twisted through the mess with a grace somewhere between an ox and a particularly nimble dog, stirring papers, setting towers of books to tittering worryingly.

It was finally at a peculiar looking metal box with latches along it's right side opposite the hinges that he came to a stop. An ice box though somewhat more reinforced and insulated than those commonly found in the homes of Vissio. The click and hiss of latches revealed the inside of a corpse locker in essence. With care he drew out a small package then of a strange white material. A bit of condensation rolling off the package. He took in his surroundings for a moment with a frown before picking up a container of similiar design to the corpse locker and deposited it gently within before securing the latches in position.

"Voila! Two lovely sapphires for the Proprietress of The Old Memory."

"Thank you, Dr. Ricci. No doubt Oriana will send her thanks and gratitude.", replies da Vigo as he takes the box. He hefts the box experimentally before settling it to ride more comfortably. "I wish you a good day. I must be off."

da Vigo gratefully returns to Marengo to pet his steed's arched neck. "What a cracked nut. I'm sure he is quite skilled but he does go on." Mounting the horse he continues back to the Old Memories.

[Assuming something doesn't interfere with da Vigo's escape...]

The Doctor bowed and chatted on amiably for a bit before returning to his work.

The Sun, meanwhile, continued to beat down upon the city now that the rains had cleared. It banished the early day's cold and welcomed a more pleasant warmth. The flow of commerce had ebbed not at all for the interlude as Alessandro made his way back to the Old Memory. The shop as it had been left in the shadows of the towering institutions to either side of it. A repository of hidden knowledge between the towering monuments of coin and trade.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 19:56, Sat 16 Dec 2017.

da Vigo enters the shop to look for Oriana. A loud cough announces his presence if the door's bell did not.

Now that he was aware that the Old Memory was warded... The subtle hints became all the more apparent from the gentle chime of the bell. Louder now as the silence contrasted against the bustle and noise of the street not far beyond the alley. The slight tingle of something, almost electric playing across the back of his neck. As before, though, sound could be heard from among the shelves as the Proprietress went about her work.

"Third aisle from the left wall." Orianna called out, her voice as calm and pleasant as before.

da Vigo navigates the maze of shelves until he finds the shop owner. "Hello Oriana. I have your package."

Once more, Oriana was balanced a top small ladder as she returned books to the upper most shelves. Her head turning towards Alessandro's voice with a smile that seemed genuinely happy but tinged by the same trepidation of an established cycle. It did little to slow her as she descended the latter and once more returned it to it's small alcove.

"Thank you, thank you... Did the Doctor mention the colour?" she asked as she walked towards the young Rake with hands pressed together before her. There was both trepidation, anxiety, and a desire to be about the business at hand in her posture. Alessandro could well imagine the whole cycle she had previously described was perennially unpleasant and that she retained the will to undergo it was no doubt a testament to the woman's will or simply a tragic habituation of something that could be overcome once and for all. It was hard to guess without the full breadth of details.

"The Doctor waxed poetic describing them as 'sapphires'", Alessandro replied with a chuckle as he noted her nervousness. "Which I think is his way of saying blue. Quite hard to come by as well."

Pulling the box around he settled it on one of the nearby reading tables and stepped back. No doubt Oriana would want to inspect the goods.

"He's enthusiastic about his trade. It's infectious... or annoying. It depends on how much you appreciate the detail of his studies but... yes, I've seen that the..." she paused for an instant to fuss over the word to choose as she gestured towards the back of the shop once more. "Complexion is rather rare here. Makes me stand out any time I've left my shop to go about the markets... more than usual, anyway." she concluded softly as she gestured again. The subtle feelings of power twisting in the air as wards turned and secured the premise. It did not seem intended as a threat and was indeed a wise precaution when one considered the nature of the package.

It, however, also did not leave anyone but the Proprietress herself feeling all the safer within the walls of her sanctum.

With the same care, she ascended the stairs at the back of her little shop to the same office and living quarters. The scent of coffee still lingering on the air among the other spices and hints of perfume. She settled herself on the same sofa, seemingly out of habit, and gently arranged the books so there was a space upon the bare wood to set down the parcel. There was that same nervousness and anxiety now. A far cry from the pride and composure but it also confirmed that the process was unpleasant but then... It wasn't hard to imagine at all how unpleasant it was to replace a part of one's self.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:43, Mon 18 Dec 2017.

Alessandro found himself drifting along the woman's wake almost unwillingly as he suspected what was about to happen. It was surprising that Oriana permitted it for such a private act.

"Should I go?", he says into the silence, courtesy winning out over morbid curiosity. As he had pointed out at the  meeting earlier they were business partners for all of a day.

"If you'd like. This is honestly the tame part of this whole ordeal. The rest I'll need a bottle of brandy for." Oriana replied with a certain grim humour as she undid the clasps that held the box shut. Everything had that impression of trepidation and anxiety even though there was a certain rote of past experience to it. With care she peered in and considered what the Good Doctor had acquired for her before making a small sound of approval and nodding her head. Whether she could actually perceive the eyes or not was a matter entirely beyond Alessandro in the instant but she seemed to know her business.

"Hmm...if you don't mind I'll stay. I'm curious", replies the rake as he takes a comfortable seat. "The kind of magics you are using are unfamiliar to me."

A slight case of nausea at the thought of what he might see passed through Alessandro's belly but curiosity was a powerful draw. And there was a certain flattery at being permitted to see Oriana at a moment of...well...weakness. Alessandro wasn't sure why the Ulstanger bookseller permitted it to somebody who was, really, a stranger.

Oriana closed the small box containing her new eyes and rose to her feet, whispering a small word that held a note of supernal force. A feeling of cold, strange and familiar, swept through the chamber for an instant before the warmth of life reasserted itself... except around the box. That sensation lingered there as if the natural order had been twisted to her whim for the moment.

"I'll need to collect a few things before I begin... and I won't be about it in the middle of my lounge. There is some mess to it." she concluded before vanishing into what appeared to be a small storeroom to the right to leave Alessandro alone with his thoughts as she collected all she needed. The sounds of her about the task seeming as quiet and precise as her organizing of the Old Memory's shelves below. Eventually she returned with a small satchel over her shoulder and a small knife in her other hand accompanied by an odder implement that struck as purely surgical, if not occult.

She made a small gesture then to invite Alessandro to follow or to remain as he was as was his prerogative. He had to wonder how much of the preparations he wished to be party to when he guessed at least one or two of the steps.

"Don't worry about me", Alessandro said knowing that distractions were lethal to theurgy. He follows Oriana as she continues her task.

It seemed the Old Memory was home to many things of it's name sake as the enigmatic Proprietress collected the small box and the macabre prize within. Silently, she guided Alessandro through another door that led to down sweeping stairs. Their angle and presence at odds with the structure as they led into a basement of sorts that had been carefully arranged to resemble an arcane laboratory and ritual chamber. Power thrummed through carefully arranged channels at the cardinal points of the compass to intersect in the center of the room.

All of it invisible but setting the hairs of the educated and sensitive to standing on end with electric excitement. This was a place that mortal men might enact miracles with the proper academic and erudite understandings of natural law and arcane formula. It was here, evidently, that Oriana plied her true trade in the manipulation of the world through theurgy and lesser magic. The hallmarks of her upbringing showing in the work benches, the small altar, and the lingering presence of death and cold. It was almost barbarous but a studious civility lingered in it's cleanliness and organization.

It wasn't the work of some savage shaman but a proper and elevated priestess.

That errant thought sending a cold chill down Alessandro's spine that he had, perhaps, glimpsed too much but the Proprietress for whatever reason had invested herself deeply and allowed this. Perhaps as a sincere gesture of good faith or simply that the act of keeping secrets had eaten at her for far too long.

With care she set the box containing her new eyes upon the desk and laid out the grim tools of the ritual to come. The presence of so many surgical instruments insinuating some surgical aptitude that seemed strangely out of place yet all too appropriate for every other talent that Oriana had hinted at in her bearing and preoccupations.

She rested hands then on that work bench and hesitated as she surveyed the varied knives and more esoteric tools. A bottle of clear liquid evident among them that was no doubt some manner of disinfectant if not something to numb the pain she was to shortly inflict upon herself. It was clear enough, at least, that there was a struggle of natural instinct against refined will despite the familiarity of such an operation upon the self. A task that was no doubt taxing upon a mind to even contemplate carrying out let alone actually following through.

Despite the necromantic specialty obvious in every line and tool of Oriana's sanctum Alessandro remained fascinated. However distasteful it was Theurgy in action as he had never witnessed it outside of controlled demonstrations at the school by teachers with far less skill. His own newly acquired puissance could see the weft and weave of magic, the use of the tools, and Orianna working herself into a focused will for the effort to come. It was impressive. He thought he could even see ways that might improve on it...

"If you need a hand?", he asked quietly, leaving the question hang in the air.

"After I am done, yes... Right now? I just have to... commit." Oriana replied softly as she reached back and drew off the veil of silk and silver. With care, she folded it and set it down upon the small work bench before her away from where she presumed it would be safe from what came next. Her back remained to Alessandro then, the ravages of her curse hidden but perceptible upon the air with the distinct sickly sweet scent of rot.

Carefully, she took up that small bottle and removed the cork. The potent scent of alcohol piercing the air in kind as she braced herself for a second longer before taking a deep draw of the bottle. A sputtering cough wracking her form as she set it down with a remarkably steady handy.

The Proprietress drew a breath then and steadied herself once more as she adjusted something before her and took up one of the knives. Small sounds seemingly amplified in the chamber by the ugly truth of the ritual preparations and the simple truth of mortality that was part and parcel of the curse. Steeled and prepared as she was, she had to work slow... Instinct forcing hesitation, grunts, and small cries of pain between the wet sounds of incisions made before taking up the next tool.

Each sound no more comforting to the imagination as her back remained to Alessandro... The faint quakes of hand, arm and leg threatening the real possibility of collapse.

It seemed an agonizing eternity from the perspectives of Alessandro as the smaller woman continued her wretched work. The surety of hand and purpose growing fainter and fainter with each passing moment but never failing entirely out of some bloody minded determination to see the task through. Her breath growing more and more ragged as even the fortified will of a Theurgist began to fail. It was with a shaking hand that she set aside yet another befouled impliment. It's edge coated in red and black, that foul scent growing all the more prominent upon the air; the stink of death and rot.

She drew a bowl then before her and drew out yet one more tool. An edged... spoon for lack of any direct name for the implement. Once more her breath hitched and Alessandro was left with the sickening sound of something wet deposited into the bowl followed by yet another. The edged spoon set aside with a hand now visibly unsteady as the woman once more steadied herself against the desk. Her breath ragged and short as she forced soft words out. A rush of fresher air flooding into the small chamber and banishing the stench of her befouled eyes with thankful swiftness.

She lingered there in silence as she forced composure once more upon herself and straightened slightly...

"If... you wouldn't mind collecting the box?" she offered softly as she kept her back to Alessandro for a moment longer and took up a pristine clothe of white and dabbed lightly at her face. The clothe coming away red and black as she rested it over the bowl, head bowed ever so slightly.

Alessandro walked to the container. With a firm grasp he slid to Oriana's side while presenting the box, its lid open.

"To your right at chest height.", the da Vigo directed while carefully averting his eyes from the woman's face.

Even a fleeting glimpse revealed the extent of harm she had done to herself. The faintest, surgically precise slits evident in each pale eye lid and their sunken flesh resting over freshly emptied sockets was an image that would no doubt linger with the Godbound. That she breathed and stood was remarkable in it's own right but in contrast these were also not the worst of injuries he had seen inflicted upon his fellow man.

Her hands once more steady, she reached for the box and took it gently from him. Fingers tracing over it's features to open it with care and draw out it's contents. There remained a lingering physical component that made her hesitate as she felt the cold of each of these harvested eyes in her hands. Another steadying breath, another false start, and yet another steadying breath before she committed and carefully deposited each frozen eye into the vacated sockets. Her breath hitching with pain that threatened screams but mystical force now compounded the will there.

Alessandro could feel that much as Oriana began to whisper in soft words of her native tongue. Her hands, steady and careful despite faint quivers throughout the rest of her form, moved through arcane patterns as she engaged the energy that had been gathered here. That feeling of energy growing in tempo with the words as she twisted and forced the natural world to her whim through the conduit of will and body. A vibrant heat followed by a deep cold flowing from her as the nexus point of the ritual and accelerating the mending of damaged flesh and the revivification of dead organs.

There was a pregnant silence as the lingering magic dissipated... and then the woman started to scream and swear as hands clapped to her face. It was an anticlimax in every way compared to the immense will that had been demonstrated moments before. Her voice going hoarse as she retched for a moment... Hands still covering her eyes.

"I hate this. I hate doing this and I hate her." she managed to hiss out in yet another insightful breaking of composure as she shook her head and rubbed gently at her new eyes which now glowed with health in the brief glimpses Alessandro could steal from between the woman's fingers. "It... takes some time for the nerves to fully integrate and it's... unpleasant as they do since muscle tissue and everything is also shifted and moved into the correct places around the new eye." she concluded, some distance away now from the man as her staggering steps had carried her.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:09, Sat 23 Dec 2017.

Alessandro isn't a callous man and the woman's screaming fit has shaken him even if he shows none of it. It was a terrible fate and a warning to the young man of the dark side of high sorcery. There would always be people ready to inflict horrors for the most petty of reasons. Assuming, Alessandro reminds himself, that this Oriana wasn't simply subject to justice for some horrible past crime of her own. Mustn't let a pretty face sway a business deal.

Still...there was little point in having a person suffer so if there was something he could do. A thought occurred to the trader's son.

"I'm not surprised", Alessandro agrees with steady voice,"the process required of you is awful. Whoever she is exceeded basic humanity in her revenge."

da Vigo! Don't let a pretty face and a woman's pain make your plans for you! Alessandro thinks wryly to himself, still repulsed by the whole thing.

Decision made Alessandro adds in a strange voice, "I am sure that you, Oriana, will find the process you need to make this whole procedure nearly painless very soon."

An hopeful expression of good will and concern rolls off his tongue like the passing toll of a enormous church bell. The world shivers as a god speaks and drives his wishes into the warp and weft of the future. A wish that forges a mere future possibility into a absolute certainty, wishful thinking into true prophecy.

[Using Prophetic Insight to ensure that she will find some alchemical, theurgic, or mundane aid in removing pain from her curse and the procedure to replace her eyes within the week. Committing 1 Effort for the day.]
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Sat 23 Dec 2017.

Oriana stole a glance between fingers before covering her eyes once more. The prospects of light still too much for her eyes at the moment. It was almost cute if the unsettling nature of what she had done to herself was not so fresh in motion. It made the powerful woman seem almost cripplingly shy as she continued to hide her new eyes behind those hands, peeking only as necessary to ensure she was not victim of a cruel joke.

Still, something in her posture radiated suspicion about the change in the man's voice and the suspicion of the powerful was always a dangerous thing.

"I... appreciate the vote of support. I suppose I've been focusing more on the curing of the disease then some of the less pleasant symptoms... To use a bit of the Doctor's parlance." she offered quietly and thoughtfully.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:11, Sat 23 Dec 2017.

Alessandro notes Oriana's suspicion but continues on amiably as if nothing of consequence had happened. "Perhaps you should look into it. No reason to suffer unduly if there is no immediate solution...at hand", he corrects himself from saying 'in sight'.

As the woman settles down from her ordeal Alessandro changes the topic, "About our other business. While I am skilled enough on my own did you mean to attach me to a group of specialists for our expedition into Howler territory? Who should I meet up with?"

"I'm not all seeing. Sometimes little things can escape me when I get a little bull headed." Oriana replied with a hint of dry humor despite her pain and discomfort in the moment. The man's hesitation noted, filed away, and touched upon in good spirit though that suspicion remained. It was inconceivable to assume that she did not have some appreciation of what transpired but might not, in the instant, have the means to classify it.

The Proprietress shifted somewhat as she continued to shield her eyes, a hand reaching to draw out a slender envelope with care and extending it towards Alessandro. "Mathias D'Angelo. He isn't possessed of an infectious good cheer. He's another proprietor of a small... guild for lack of a better description that caters to special requests, orders, and acquisitions of exotic goods. Most would just call him a grave robber and raider but he fancies himself a little more honourable than that. So far he's dealt straight and true with me."

Alessandro takes the envelope and inspects its content with a critical eye. Everything seemed in order as he pushed it into his coat.

"No doubt he is used to dealing with freelancers on his expeditions. As for trust...as long as he does his job I'll do mine. I'm not looking to be contentious." He grins, white teeth flashing in a pale face,"This should be very interesting and profitable. Much better than attending parties with bored debutants."

"Dealing, berating... occasionally cuffing. Whatever really ensures things flow smoothly. All of you men in Vissio are obsessed with excellence beyond reason." the Proprietress replied with another quick peek from behind her shield hand as she carefully made her way towards the small work bench and once more secured that veil of silver and silk in place once more. Her tone was droll and dry with the touch of warm humour beneath. Though it could be noted the quiver had not quite left it as she still struggled through the lingering aftershocks of her ritual ministrations.

"He's a man that likes to live his life lustily. He'd have probably been happier aboard one of my sister's ships in better years... As to bored debutantes... Just don't let them near your eyes or ears. They're worse than cats." Oriana added with a smirk and a hint of nostalgia for some scrap or energetic disagreement of her past and youth. She then guided Alessandro, carefully, out of her shop with another soft word in her native tongue to relax the wards and release the tense energy that had slowly built in the air around them.

The day was flowing quickly with such company and errands as he had found himself yet the life had yet to leave the streets. The bustle as warm an embrace as ever as he was buffeted by the crowds that passed this way and that in the act of retrieving his loyal steed. The animal as well looked after as ever by the stable hands of the Square.

The ride, by contrast, was a smooth and pleasant affair as he was brought to the Square of Arms. A place of commerce in all things martial and mineral. The visceral scent of smithies, coal, and enthusiastic shouting beyond the hawking of wares drumming into the skull as readily as the smith's hammer upon the anvil.

To the far right of the Square rested a building squat and utilitarian in contrast to the colour and vibrancy of it's neighbours. It's sensibilities seeming to force a comparison between the reliable and the fanciful... and it succeeded in a strange way by subverting the tendencies of it's neighbors. A gilded sign above it's door matched that upon the letter of recommendation; depicting a coiled serpent around a heavy gauntlet above the words Special Acquisitions. As blunt a name as one might imagine yet it seemed successful from the horses tied to posts before it and the periodic visitors that came and went.

da Vigo ties Marengo off on a nearby post. He takes in the plain exterior and while it admittedly works it was also unimaginative. Some fanciful marble work would do wonders for such a dour business. The artist in da Vigo is in tears as he finally shakes his head and head on into the business.

To any nearby assistant he announces,"I am Alessandro da Vigo here on business with your employer, Mathias D'Angelo. Tell him I have a letter from the proprietress of the Old Memories."

It was a loud voice from the second floor that drew Alessandro's attention upwards to the impressive bulk of a man. His bald head and severe, weathered features giving the venerable air of a veteran of some campaign of past glory and bloody deeds. His attire was no more or less than a somber rendition of the colourful garbs and vests of the Vissian rakes. A signalling of his growing tenure among the dueling circles of the City and his own ruthless pursuit of excellence.

"And what has that hawk of a woman tossed my way?" he called down with a force that left one unsure as to if there was a positive relationship between Oriana and Mathias.

The interior of the building was far more to the tastes of the Vissian architect. Rich marbles, colourful fresco depicting great moment's in the Guild's history, and the numerous banners of it's most successful mercenary groups. All forming a pleasing a lively riot to the eye that spoke to a pride in it's efficacy over the edifice from which it operated.

Standing arms akimbo, dueling garb shouting the his allegiance to the Coltello Affilato School and flashing blades on his hip, Alessandro calls up with equal animus, "That hawk-nosed woman said we are to be working together! Matthias, I'm guessing? I am Alessandro da Vigo.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Thu 28 Dec 2017.

"Ha! A man with short steels with wits to him. Every last rake of the Coltello Affilato could never make heads or tells of why you need to dodge with a pair of short steels." the bulky man declared with a tip of some phantom hat in acknowledgement of his identity. There was a jovial spirit behind the stings and bites of insult that spoke to a friendly competition with the academy of Alessandro's own education.

"Are the old boys still butting heads with men of the Duellatorum?" Mathias asked with a grin as he walked the length of the upper floor towards the stair case and descended with thudding steps that only gave testatment to the power and weight of his frame. Neither or obese or weak in appearance, he seemed simply one of profoundly solid construction.

Alessandro grinned at the old adventurer's witticism. "Why bother evading? Its usually not a skill you need when facing those clumsy steel clubs the Duellatorium insist on calling swords."

His sharp Howler features are pale against the heavy dark décor of the establishment. Wiry muscles gave the impression of a quiet strength as the da Vigo turns to watch the descending guildsman,"My master Benedetto and his gang of white hairs would have it no other way. They put the young among his pupils to shame in their eagerness to cross blades."

He had reached the base of the stairs now, his voice as loud and booming as ever and now upon the level floor it became all too clear that he was tall as men went. Easily above six feet in height and broad as a horse in build. This was a man that was used to pushing weight and a life lived in pursuits most physical. Alessandro's own training picking out at the little details like the nature of his stride; light but solid. The length of his arms and the reach they gave alongside the length of his preferred weapon... All things that spelled out an opponent that was dangerously adept in his craft but not in the way of Oriana. This was a man without magic, merely the prowess of sound body and sound mind.

"Even the slowest beast knows to stay clear of the path of a falling stone!" Mathias quipped back, friendly and energetic... and refreshingly uncivil in his methods.

"And the men of the Duellatorium will beat themselves stupid just as readily on that old wall. The blood's thinning and there isn't so much of that fire any more. Maybe one day we'll all manage something useful with our energy." he concluded as he held out a calloused and massive hand.

"So Oriana has sent you with her recommendation? Figured you have something useful to pitch into her endless train of library visits?"

"You could say that," da Vigo agrees as he own hand grasped Matthias' in turn in an hearty shake. "It was an exchange of mutual interests. I have some skill in theurgy, historical academia, and...well...I speak the Howler tongue and know something of that land's customs. I suppose my specific skillset looked useful to her interests on your expedition so here I am."

da Vigo's understatement about 'some skill in theurgy' is to test the waters since that alone intimated a potent supernatural ability to the sensibility of the common man. As he releases Matthias' hand he pulls out Oriana's envelope and hands it over.

"Its all in her envelope."

"Bit of serendipity in that then. That woman has always had some of the worst devil's luck to her. Now let's see to that letter since we are making to push a bit into Howler lands and dig into some of those ruins. Old archival texts are valuable pieces lately with the revival among the Archaeological societies." Mathias replied, his own grip shockingly just as strong and sturdy in their shake of hands. His other taking the envelop with a care and gently sliding a thumb beneath the lip to pry it open and drag out the letter.

A quick skimming of the pages spoke to a seemingly glowing enough recommendation.

"Skill in Theurgy can go a ways towards fixing a problem but hopefully there won't be a need for it. Still not going to bank on hopes. We're pulling in some of our veteran team members given the reputation of those old ruins and the things lurking around them. Better to get men used to the rigors of random chance and misfortune than fresh academy graduates. You've been a fight proper or two?" Mathias asked as she carefully folded the letter and deposited it in an inside pocket of his outer jacket. A gesture that spoke to a certain refinement at odds with the rough exterior of a dock laborer.

da Vigo's youth is plain on his face as the veteran questions him about past engagements. His face reddens slightly as he replies, "Before my father passed he made sure I had an extensive education and trained in basic skills for a soldier. I've fought a few duels here in the city as part of the usual fracas between schools but I can't claim to have experienced real combat."

It pained da Vigo to have to admit this hole in his experiences but it felt necessary to be honest with the old man. New powers or not such information could be critical.

"We'll just have to pair you off then with one of our own vets. Follow her lead and listen to the instincts the Lord's given you and thing should pan out fine for a lad like yourself. Amelia should be around here somewhere. She's another one of our men and women here that will be joining us on the dive into the ruins." Mathias replied with an understanding air and a shrug of shoulders at any embarrassment Alessandro might feel about his lack of true blooding in the circumstances of battle. It gave the impression of safety but not in the way of a fortress or quiet and remote estate.

It also spoke to a plan, over all, for the expedition that was heartening all it's own. This wasn't the cocksure swagger of the first time adventurer but someone that had grounded and sound knowledge of the dangers to come and a system to overcome them.

 "Amelia", da Vigo lets the name roll of his tongue and nods in response to the old veteran's advice. There was no point in resenting being paired up with a mercenary experienced in the field. It would be a good way to learn.

"So when are we leaving? Oriana was vague about the details and where exactly are we going?"

"A week's time. Gives most of me and mine time to sort to the business of logistics and negotiating any permits we might need to drag back whatever we found in advance. The rest comes down to the scattering of coin and who can bellow the loudest before drawing steel." Mathias replied before sparing a glance towards the back of the building and offering a lopsided grin that suited his dock worker's countenance.

"Don't let the pretty name fool you. The woman's a helion in her own right. Only person in this whole building that isn't above giving me a cuff on the ear for getting out of hand." the Guild Master joked giving just a little insight into the camaraderie of the men under his command. It also made it clear enough the man had never lost the boyish drive for adventure. His heart still knowing the thrill of the moment even as hair and youth had left him.

A week's time was more than reasonable to set his own affairs in order, such as they were due to his house's debased fortunes. Alessandro listens attentively to the veterans expansion on the plan, nodding,"I'll be here bright-eyed and bushy tailed on the morning of the seventh day. Sounds like things are well in hand."

da Vigo chats with the veteran a bit more to nail down some details of his own contributions before letting Matthias go about his business. It was time to see to his own business for the evening as well. With a cheery wave da Vigo heads off to find Marengo and the Girl...

There were certain... details to be seen to prior to the gala and his duties as escort to the eponymous Girl. Namely, matters of social decorum and the proper attire for a man of Alessandro's standing and present employ. Neither onerous or difficult, it was merely a trip once more to the ancestral seat of his family to ensure he was presentable in the ostentatious and vibrant way of Vissio. Such seen to with ease, there was not left to do but meet up with his fellow rakes and the Lady herself at the stated point of rendezvous.

It was there that a splendid carriage awaited with the young lady no doubt sequestered within it's shielding curtains and frame work so as not to spoil her famed pale complexion. The rakes that had answered the call of her family's coffers arrayed around it in various states of readiness and awareness. Their own mounts freshly brushed and stately black and gleaming with an intensity almost entirely reserved for good steel.

A few eyes turned his way as Alessandro approached, a hand rising in familiar greeting. It's owner a small and slender woman, Gwyndolin, who had served as the most intimate guardian of the Girl and in many ways the manager of those affairs she found too onerous to trouble herself with... Which if the woman's inebriated complaints were to believed seemed to be almost every facet of existence that did not involve the indulgence of flesh and ego. Still, she was a stern woman with dark hair that had begun to prematurely grey despite her young 30 odd summers and a hawkish countenance that was better reserved for someone near double her years.

Alessandro slips into the persona he had constructed for these forays into the social whirl of Chieri as the bodyguard da Vigo: quiet, efficient, and slightly arrogant. After today's events da Vigo found it harder to do, his thoughts far away. Marengo is skittish as he senses his master's mood.

"Madame Gwydolyn", da Vigo remarks with a bow from the saddle as he takes his place. His eyes rove over the rest of the bodyguards, identifying the rest of the detail for familiar faces or pests. His pale Howler face was enough for some of them to be aggravating little pricks. He thought it was part of the reason the Girl kept asking for him, her tame savage. "Good evening."

"Master Da Vigo. We had thought you might be late." the severe woman concluded in a calm and strong voice that seemed more used to being raised in anger or command than speaking in conversation. It was perhaps that inscrutable gravity of command that made it easier for her to handle the more rambunctious of their small group than one might expect... and failing that, it was well known that her blades had tasted blood over such disagreements as might arise from an undisciplined rake.

Those more friendly among the gentlemen guards nodded their heads politely towards Alessandro but their number was punishingly few compared to the sneers or cocky grins. Those were the ones, grounded in the idea of their superiority to any half breed, that caused the most trouble and their insults as often whispered as shouted still stung in memory. For now, at least, they were quiet as they sorted their equipment and weapons for the coming gala... One even preening over his mustache in a small pocket mirror.

"You thought wrong, Madame Gwyndolin", replies da Vigo with a smile. He returns the nods of the few who could be bothered to be polite. Unable to contain himself he adds enigmatically, "Though perhaps you won't be seeing me again on this detail again in the future."

As the train of men and horses settles in and begins to meander its way down the road. "How is our charge tonight?"

"Evidently. I am hoping for a quiet evening but hot heads have always prevailed in Vissio." Gwyndolin replied with a glance towards one of the rakes, Luca Moretti,  who offered the sort of arrogant grin that so often marked a trouble maker. A gesture of defiance accompanying it the moment the older woman's eyes turned else where. Her attention seemed focused on that second statement of Da Vigo's for a moment.

"Found better prospects? As to the young lady, the usual." Gwyndolin offered in what could be considered diplomatic regarding the famously difficult youth. Her tone alone implied enough that it was a topic that was best steered from whilst the Lady Rivera was technically within ear shot. That sternness ever present in her voice and promising a steady hand at the proverbial rudder. A fact that more than a few who hadn't become consumed with their own self importance appreciated.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Sat 06 Jan 2018.

da Vigo eyes Moretti but leaves the rake to his petty rebellion. The man was perpetually prodding those around him and looking for a fight. It wouldn't do to give him that excuse and ruin Gwyndolin's night after all.

"Yes", he replies to her question while leaving the details out. "Lets just say fortunate days are ahead."

da Vigo knew the rest of the detail is listening while appearing bored. This kind of gossip would make its way to various ears in the coming nights which would both open doors for him and bring wary attention. Such was the way of Chieri. Perhaps it would help to spice those rumors up.

"You know, Madame Gwyndolin, the House of da Vigo might have need of competent and diligent armsmen in the weeks ahead. Something to consider."

"The Lord's blessing then in whatever it may be." She replied with a polite bow of her head and a sincere well wish in the matter. She was hardly unaware of the status of the Da Vigo fortunes as it was, in a way, a requirement of her post to be aware of such political intricacies.

She laughed then in response to his offer, not out of disrespect, but out of amusement at the possibility of the tables turning in their relative status so suddenly and completely. It was with care then that she swung into the saddle of her own black mare and shifted in the saddle. Courtly etiquette had been something she had clearly refused in the lack of dress or finery that adorned her form but there was some hint at her noble heritage that she had to mindfully stop herself from riding side saddle.

"I'll keep it in mind, Da Vigo. Until then... As some have said, never count the chickens before they've hatched." she concluded with a bit of laughter from the other rakes and a jeer from Luca with that familiar sneer.

"Getting a bit big for yourself, aren't you? Things looking that up? Wormed your way somewhere nice?" He said in a low whisper as he pulled his horse near by. The act alone earning a glance from the almost ever aware Gwyndolin with a jerk of her head and hand to force the man to back down into the formation agreed upon.

da Vigo laughs good naturedly with the rest of the rakes, "Wise as always, madame Gwyndolin."

He had expected the bully in Moretti's flawed character to rise to the bait and lets his laughter fade into an insolent grin, "That full story is for people who matter, Moretti. You'll have to read it in the broadsheets like the rest who don't. Matter, that is."

"Or it's a story that doesn't mean anything to the people that matters. You're still a gnat, half breed and that's not going to change." Luca replied with a sneer writ large across his sharp boned face and the characteristic distaste worked into that particularly nasal voice of his. If only his blades were as sharp as his voice he might have mattered to his own father but he was always in the shadow of his elder brother.

Gwyndolin's voice rose sharply before anything more could be said though.

"Form up. 4 right, 4 left. I'll take point. Keep tight and watchful. It's supposed to be quiet but dulled senses are Death's invitation." she declared bluntly and pointedly as she twisted her eyes over the gathering. Her military heritage and background showing clear as day in the instant as she brought her own mount around in a smart circle and set the pace.

da Vigo's smile becomes feral enough for any northern wild man. Marengo snorts and paws the ground as he senses his master's dire mood. da Vigo chucks the reins and guides Marengo past Luca with a low whisper, "We'll discuss this later, Little Luca."

Marengo settles into his position of the van as Gyndolin gives the command to proceed.

Luca offered another glare before falling into the formation indicated by Gwyndolin.

The stern mistress of the Lady Rivera proved to have an unsurprisingly nuanced of the coming event. To Alessandro's ears it sounded a boring and quiet affair but the names, some of whom hailed from the Bright Republic, promised at least some measure of spectacle to come... and likely a chance for tempers to flare and steel to be drawn. Regardless, there was one notable family that would also be in attendance. Specifically, the Beneventi... Bitter and occasionally very hot rivals to the Rivera in the upper circles of Chieri's social order.

It was not uncommon for some of their lesser ranked men to make all manner of trouble with the hired stewards of one Rivera heir or another.

Luca is already forgotten as da Vigo turns his attention to all the details laid out by Gwyndolin. The Bright Republic perked the man's interest with its eccentric and eclectic entertainments and exotic civilizations. The theotechnology that drove their towers were high state secrets but no less fascinating for that. Still he doubted that such matters would enter into a formal dinner party in Chieri. The mention of the Beneventi drew a half smile of his own. Placed to highly for the da Vigo's current status to be noticed he had little interaction with the Beneventis directly. Their hotheaded and vindictive reputation preceded them though and added a measure of tension and excitement to what might be a dull affair.

"Two questions: First what can you tell me of this Bright Republic delegation, and secondly which of the Beneventi sons or daughters will be in attendance tonight?"

"A brigade of toy soldiers and two or three dignitaries. I don't suspect they'll be anything more than just politely interesting while they sort out some agreements for the usual ores and sundries they need to keep that island of theirs going. On the Beneventi front... Adrian and his twin, Lucas as well as the young madam Constance. She probably won't be much trouble but the pair of brothers are one uppers from everything I've heard. A chance to impress would make a mess of the evening." the older woman explained as she rode along. Her voice strong and clear over the clatter of wheels and hooves and her eyes never straying far from the road ahead with something like too straight backed a posture for how she was settled in the saddle yet never giving off a hint of discomfort.

"Hmm...This could be difficult if the Beneventis decide to provoke our benefactor", the word is galling but what else could you use to politely describe the bitch who hires you? thought da Vigo. She was temperamental enough that she could end up getting her guard detail into trouble keeping HER out of trouble. There was a reason her father paid well but had trouble keeping men.

"I suppose if anyone wanted an exciting evening we are going to get it."

"I maintain hope that we don't.  Either way, they stand more to lose for getting feisty than they do for being civil. The Republic doesn't quite care for bickering between trade partners since it hurts the bottom line." Gwyndolin replied with a shrug as the ride continued. It was an old mansion that rested at the end of the road; resplendent in the stern marbles and geometry that was popular in Vissio with almost subtle high lights done in bright and eye catching colours to compliment those very lines. It was a conservative structure by any measure but it was one executed well and without forsaking the spirit and passion of the architect.

Carriages, horses, and rarer clockwork contraptions were parked and arrayed along the front of the building with servants and valets leading them this way and that as they organized the flow of people and animal into something resembling order. It was a remarkable feat of professional skill but ultimately there was always a complication if one looked carefully enough... Such as a startled horse rearing and nearly yanking the young boy off his feet for a moment before he was able to get the beast under control once more.

Barked orders came fast enough for the rakes, Alessandro included, to form a small perimeter as they approached.

"Best behavior now. You make problems, I'll make problems for you."

"Hmm", da Vigo grunted in reply to Gwyndolin's optimism. He hoped so as well but it would remain a question until the night was done. At their leader's command da Vigo flicked Marengo's reins and took his position in the right front quadrant. The bustling servants managing the incoming traffic were doing a decent job and nobody would want an incident on the front stoop. A sense of foreboding prompted him to double-check what the Girl was doing.

The Girl, as she was often referred to due to her young age, was being assisted from the carriage. At first glance, she was nothing but grace and beauty but Alessandro had witnessed enough of what seemed to lurk behind to know the sort of ugliness that lurked behind the mask... Or at least that had always been his opinion as he had not once the pleasure of standing upon equal footing with her as Alfonso Udinesi had. The patrician blood of his family securing wealth and prestige without ever lifting a finger.

Her head turned for an instant to catch a glimpse of Alessandro watching her. A dark brow cocking with every air of that familiar arrogance to remind him of the direction his eyes ought to be facing before returning with a pleasant smile to Alfonso as her feet settled firmly upon the pristine stone of the lane way.

It was a thankfully brief moment as she turned her typical blind eye to the 'help' in the presence of social equals and betters. The formation of rakes moving into the bustling world of the gathered party. The music conducted but was perilously close to a full orchestra of clockwork musicians tended to by the watchful eyes of a Maestro and his apprentices. The various serves passing in almost choreographed confection between the throngs of gathered socialites and nobility as well as honoured guests. Everything bedecked in lively, passionate colours to contrast the austere white of the marble floors, pillars, and ceilings that framed each towering window that still faced the Sun and promised a spectacular view as the day faded.

Almost alarmingly, however, the clash of steel could be heard but it wasn't the violent passion of one rival seeking another's blood but the almost calm and clinical precision of a demonstration as one of the center pieces of the party's offerings.

The Girl's superciliousness drew a frown from da Vigo but she was already looking to her next victim. For a moment he reconsidered his foolhardly notion of upholding this last obligation to the Girl's father. He had known Alessia Rivera since they were children but always she had acted the part of a spoiled heiress, but a skilled one able to draw blood with a glance. Even the thought of the next week and what it would bring did little to sooth da Vigo's riled pride at such petty arrogance.

His frustration manifests in blown cheeks and a long breath as he returns to watching the crowd. Luckily it was Gwndolin who would stay closest to the Girl. da Vigo and the rest of the detail merely had to be presentable and unnoticed amongst the most important guests.

da Vigo's brow rises as he hears the clash of steel in was seemed some sort of demonstration, judging by the sounds. Dismounting from Marengo he pats the horse one more time before passing him to the pages staffing the road. Time to follow the Girl in as her entourage her status, if not the Girl herself, deserved.

Curiosity kept his attention focused, looking for the source of the sounds as they enter the mansion.

It truly wasn't hard to track the sounds of battle, even mock battle, among the more expected noises of music, chatter, laughter, and singing in the case of some who had delved too deep into the drink. It was the navigation that proved a problem without disturbing the great and good of Vissio that had assembled here for the sundry reasons that any attended such a gala.

Power, Prestige, Bravado.

A crowd had formed at the outer edge of the demonstration; safely clear of blade and harm unless things took off in the traditional way and went beyond the friendly into the hostile. A circumstance that had happened not infrequently in the past when one or another's dignity refused to bow before superiority in the moment. The clash of steel was almost like a mechanical staccato. Precise, unrelenting, and never over extended.

The exact sound one would expect of two masters before their respective Academies.

Such an assertion was only partially true as Alessandro found that gap between the gawkers to appreciate the martial form on display. One was easily picked out as Sir Anthony Dubois, a man of some forty years most of which had been dedicated to the Academies in one for or another to make him an alumni and ultimately master of his own small sect of duelists. His style was not so different from others but relied upon a short and long steel to test and pry open the guards of his opponents with a relentless sort of vigor and panache.

Widely regarded as a gentleman in all ways, his virtues were the favored topic of polite conversation and his vices left to quietly exist unremarked in the shadows so long as he remained his charming self and minded the lines of propriety and expectation. In short, his tastes in partner were not the preferred.

The other was something of a mystery to Alessandro. Her style struck as one of the newer ones known rather disparagingly as the school of the Brawlers. An amalgam of the classical boxing forms that had grown up out of a thousand inns and taverns the nation over that collided with the imported styles of various sailors and foreign travelers. The result was a bizarre melding of kicks, punches, and jabs that kept the more traditional adherents of the blade on their toes but never hesitating to utilize a fatal parry. At first glance, her hands appeared clad in armoured gauntlets with similar guards protecting the length of her slim legs. Her blonde hair, in kind, bound and tied into a disheveled tail leaving a young, sharp featured face and green eyes narrowed into slits of pure, dedicated focus upon her opponent.

As he watched though there was something strange in the way she moved. Her jabs, blocks, and quick slaps of Dubois' blades were done with jerky, sudden motions whilst the rest of her moved with a more natural flow. It became far more clear the reason for this as the demonstration continued to play out. From the shoulder down was nothing but the burnished bronze, steel, and copper of the Maestro's prized clockwork. That she could keep pace with so seasoned a duelist was either testament to the power of the prosthesis or the supreme skill the woman had managed to drill into her body.

All the same, both combatants had evidently been at this for some time as the cream hued tunics of both had soaked through with sweat and the older Dubois' breath was heavy even as he stubbornly refused to discard his famed smile and good humours between each blow. The exchanges between them a testament to the mechanical brutality of the clockwork and the elegant lethality of the dueling schools.

da Vigo watches the fascinating display of martial prowess with the eye of practiced student. This was the first time that the man had seen the Brawler school in action. Interesting but if it depended on clockwork for its edge it spoke of a level of fanaticism da Vigo is uncomfortable with. Who willingly cuts their own arm off?!?

Still it wouldn't do to get too caught up in the entertainment. da Vigo keeps one eye on the duel while perusing the crowd. An energetic collections of very important people and their hagers-ons for the most part betting and enjoying the duel. Ah...the people from the Bright Republic. And what is this? The Girl's escort currently without the Girl. What was his name? Alfonso Udinesi, the golden boy. A sudden impulse, perhaps unwise, prompted da Vago and he wended his way through the crowd while snagging a drink from a passing servant. A moment later he settles beside the well-dressed dandy seemingly enjoying the duel.

"The woman is a Brawler, yes? I've not seen her in the usual circles. I wonder who she is?", he asks after a moment while watching the fight.

It was a split second of inattention but suddenly from the gasps among the crowd, it seemed the demonstration had shifted suddenly and decisively. The sound of clattering steel and polite applause ringing out as the smaller blonde woman found the flaw in Dubois' technique; her clockwork hands forcing aside the long steel while snaking around the short to keep it at bay. A sudden move forward unbalancing the older Master of the Steels and only compounding the issue with a deftly snaked leg in.

"I couldn't tell you but she seems to know her way around the business of it. There aren't many people that can foul up Master Dubois like that. Then again, what one of the others was telling me is he got in a killing hit too per the referees." Alfonso offered with an affable air as he clapped for the young girl and the sounds of the referees arguing the technical merit of the strike rising in fervor. A few hisses and boos escaping from the most ardent supporters of the Master Duelist and few offering more than polite applause for the brawler... Who was now straining to shift her stance and support the older gentelman's weight without sending herself tumbling to the ground or letting him take the full hit.

A surprisingly kind gesture given that it seemed their latest bout had consumed much of their attendance to the party. She managed, though, to untangle herself and bring the man back to his feet. Her reward a clap on the shoulder and quiet conversation as they both glanced towards the referees.

da Vigo claps along with the audience as enthusiastically as any. The duel had been a magnificent display of oddly matched styles. He whistled appreciatively at the show of comradery among duelists as the young Brawler helped the master upright.

Udinessi's comment about the referee brought a thoughtful look upon the young rake's face. Turning inward his mind's eye rewound the scene, a perfect replica forged by his subtle powers over the flow of time, and watched it play forward. It took no time at all for da Vigo to reach a conclusion.

"The referee is right. Master Dubois' alignment was a few degrees off opening him up to the Brawler's counter-strike. He proved himself a master by accepting the fatal blow and returning his own at the same time. The Master of the Steel did indeed forge a draw out of defeat."

"Maybe but it would be a rather slow kill. She had the short steel angled away and his range of motion with the arm limited. Any more than that and he would have been breaking his arm in the process to bring the edge around. Either way, a master of his trade is no less a master." Alfonso replied with an easy gesture of both hands to show what he meant based on what he had seen of the posture and poise of the two duelists. Both of whom were now taking a moment to catch their breath and be fawned over by their respective crowds; the support for the Brawler noticeably thin as none wished to give more credibility than was due to an upstart institution. It seemed only her own master and a few of the more scholarly sort lingering near at hand and looking over the woman as much as her clockwork limbs.

"How are the drinks, by the way? I've been trying to steer clear if only because I think the braggarts are going to make a bit of trouble as the sun sets." He asked pleasantly enough drawing attention to the snatched beverage in Alessandro's hand. It had the scent of wine with a bouquet of spice beneath that. Warming and energizing, it seemed the sort of thing that would make one more happy to chat than fight.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:40, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

"Hmm...yes. But by locking her up he kept her open open just enough to score rather than kill so a more precise thrust wasn't needed. Not a pretty draw but a draw none the less. Fortunately for both this was a friendly duel!", laughs da Vigo as he takes a sip of his wine glass.

"Our hosts know their vintages", da Vigo says as he swirls the wine in the glass. Its deep ruby hue coated the glass sides like blood. "If I'm not mistaken this particular batch is spiced with star anise from the gardens of Taru. It is potent so I plan to teetotal as well."

A momentary darkness overtakes da Vigo as he contemplates the mysteries of inland trade with the Oasis States. It was once a primary source of the da Vigo fortune, including this particular spice. "I believe the Beneventis have the trade of this on the eastern land routes." Now.

"Best way about it. There's a virtue in not letting the demon of drink unsteady the hand." Alfonso said, paraphrasing one of the great masters who had ironically met his end at the hand of that very palsy.

"That and a few other lucrative little routes from what I've heard. The Elder Beneventis is lurking around when I made the rounds. His sons haven't drifted far. I imagine they got the same sort of lecture we did before making our way here. After all, no one wants to spook the Brights with the impression of instability. Any endangering to the healthy flow of trade and suddenly you're no longer the belle of the ball." Alfonso offered quietly with a slick sort of grin that reminded Alessandro all too readily of the numerous times that he had found himself in the thick of it because of the indiscretion of one rake or another. The moment passed quickly though as Alfonso merely laughed and waved it aside.

"As long as they're in Iron Beard's shadow, though, the youngers won't be able to get away and make some trouble. So's my humble theory on the matter anyway but then I'm here to be handsome and ready." he added with a self deprecating chuckle at his own circumstances in relation to the Girl. A humble awareness of his place both infuriating and endearing as he gently hooked a thumb into the sword belt at his waist and glanced over the crowd.

"I don't doubt the Beneventis patriarch will have them toeing the line! As you said they will not offend such important guests", da Vigo agreed. "Unfortunately once the old man's attention turns away they will probably target some of the least nobility or the servants to vent some of their proclivities. People who will be afraid to say anything or resist."

Shrugging da Vigo grins and takes a sip of his wine,"You could set one of the maestros' clockwork timepieces by the Beneveti brothers habits."

Turning away from such a dreary subject he considers the Bright group speaking among themselves,"So what exactly are the Brights dealing for this time?"

Alfonso conceded the point with a thoughtful nod of the head on the point of the Beneventis boys inclinations. They were bullies with money and there would be few in polite company that could make a point to the contrary. Or that they were predictable in the execution of those inclinations.

"From what I've heard... Mineral wealth again. It looks like there's some rumbling to overhaul and expand those... nodes of there's and rare metals are required as a result. Something about fault proofing, in essence. Either way, all rather essential to the island's infrastructure." Alfonso offered with a knowing tap of his nose as if he had sniffed out such a secret from the ramblings of the crowd before offering a shrug. "Of course, anything they say about their business could be a tall tale. They do like to spin yarn to keep their business partners on their toes."

"Makes sense. While its only recently that the Brights have been more open about their needs for certain materials economists from the university have noted a rising trend in trade for these over the last century. Its definitely become more notable", da Vigo replies thoughtfully while watching the Brights mingle. "Geotheurgic constructs like these nodes of theirs require a great deal of maintenance...in theory. The Brights don't talk about it much so difficult to say what is true."

Alessandro felt vague intuitions start to solidify into a plan as he discussed the Bright situation. A smile crept across his face as he remembers his thoughts earlier of making important contacts at the gala. Supplying rare earths for the Brights is certainly in line with his earlier plans. Perhaps more important than his ideas for a single miner's guild.

He studies the Bright delegation, picking out the aides and attaches whose job is to screen their bosses, looking for one who might be momentarily unoccupied.

"You'll have to excuse me... I really don't know much about such things. It's all, if you'll pardon me, howler to me at the end of the day. I can understand the end result and the value of it but the processes and steps between are something of a mystery." Alfonso admitted apologetically and with some chagrin to bring up the topic of ancestry by turn of phrase. There was no malice meant in the comment but merely an adequate summation of his understanding of the topic of theurgy and it's various disciplines. A laymen at the best.

The Delegation of Brights was some twenty strong at a glance with only two figures striking as truly, visibly important. Both were old men by the reckoning of Alessandro's divine intuition but still in the relative prime of their twilight years with strong features, graying hair, and the symbols of their office made clear in the small pins that adorned their lapels. Their aides and attendants lurking near at hand; some showing the clear posturing of guardians while others had the ferret like attentiveness of scribes and personal assistants. Of them, only a handful seemed truly approachable... One was a small and largely unremarkable woman with dark hair but a certain brightness in her eyes and a natural, feline sort of grace that struck as unusual and concerning... The other was a more hawkish gentleman with dirty blonde hair, a prominent nose, and eyes that seem perpetually narrowed in consideration of those around him.

Alessandro briefly wonders if Alfonso is priming a further joke at the expense of his heritage but soon waves a hand in dismissal. The rake is earnest enough. "Don't concern yourself."

"It's not the first time my fascination with the enigma of theurgy has fired my imagination while leaving those around me with glazed eyes.", jokes Alessandro to put the Girl's dancing companion at ease. It was a pleasant surprise to find the man less off-putting than his date. "Suffice it to say that their needs for these exotic materials makes sense." And presents an opportunity.

"If you will excuse me I need to attend to some business. It was good talking with you."
, Alessandro excuses himself and makes his way through the slowly dispersing audience toward the Republican delegation.

Sensing an opportune time he inserts himself next to the blond haired attache. "Good evening, Signore. That was quite an impressive bout, was it not?"

Alfonso offered a slight wave of the hand as he drifted off towards the Brawler and her few hanger ons. It seemed her performance had peaked his curiosity. Somehow, he seemed able to introduce himself and strike conversation up as Alessandro approached the hawk nosed man with the casual ease of a seasoned party goer.

The suited man spared him a glance of acknowledgement for an instant as he glanced down and checked a small notebook bound in some unusually reflective material that appeared neither metal, leather or fabric. Eventually, he deposited it in his jacket pocket with another glance towards Alessandro as he spoke. The mention of the fight earning a thoughtful working of the man's mouth before he offered a portion of his thoughts.

"Evening. I've seen far tamer bouts. The Maestros seemed to do good work with the young lady but I suspect she got a little over confident." he offered in a voice that was deep but still nasally. Almost unpleasantly so but never quite stepping over that line.

"Yes. I understand that its not common for young hotheads in the Republic to settle disputes with blades", Alessandro replies as his eyes follow the peculiar notebook into its pocket. "An interesting way of handling it."

While Alessandro's words are polite there is a subtle tone of disbelief at how such a system could possibly work. "But you are right about the Brawler. She was eager to land a killing blow and the master took advantage and earned a tie."

"Not without a stay in prison." the Man replied with a slight shrug of shoulders as to whether or not such a thing was a more civil solution then merely allowing me to defend their virtue, honour, and opinions with open arms. His attention briefly spared to Alessandro once more with polite interest and little more as their conversation seemed to meander and find no purpose.

"Men and women with something to prove are always the ones you ought to watch. Consequences start to mean very little to them if it gets their point across." the Man concluded with perhaps a certain insight that cut close to home as he returned to the two preparing for their next demonstration. The Brawler's stance shifting just so to imply a different intent and approach. The seasoned master, meanwhile, retained all the hallmarks of his preferred style and poise.

Alessandro sighs as his patience runs out, "Signore, I find this verbal sparring tiresome when a straightforward approach might work best, don't you agree?"

"To be plain your trade mission is here for certain materials and I can supply those materials cheaper then anyone else you have spoken too."

"I believe that would be considered a touch in the parlance of duelists then." the suited man replied politely but with a clear undertone of wryness. His expression remained politely composed and expressing calm but detached interest as he regarded Alessandro down the length of his prominent and rodent like nose. The mention of being able to secure the desired mineral wealth earned a slight rose of brows but secured little more reaction than that as he spoke again.

"Oh? And who, precisely, do you represent to be able to make such a boast? What guild, association, house or union? You'll beg my pardon for being somewhat incredulous but we aren't exactly short on options given the strength of our own industrial base." he replied calmly, precisely, and with an expectation of a clear answer. It was hardly the stage Alessandro was hoping for but it was an opening act at the very least from which an opportunity could be forced open.

Alessandro kept a pleasant mien as he responded, though his heart thumped with excitement at the thought of wedging in a bid,"The House of da Vigo though I suggest you not let whispers sway you from an opportunity."

"As an example of what I can do for you... Since you are a member of your trade commission I assume you are familiar with cazzo di cristalli magici, a focusing crystal used in some low magic traditions and heavily refined by our good maestros for their automail mechanisms. The Bright Republic has earned some ire from our local artisans by buying up available stocks in bulk, raising prices for them as well since the cazzo di cristalli magici is not especially common. However its use for high sorcery is rather trickier since the material needs special refinement and extremely precise machining. The kind that the Former Empires were once capable of in bulk for their great theurgic works. Very few can replicate such deeds in these fallen days."

He pauses in his spiel to take stock of the man's interest or lack of it. Seeing he is straining the man's patience he ends with, "Fortunately my house can perform machining of the focusing crystals equal to anything from the Former Empires and in bulk. A considerable benefit for a customer looking to reduce costs and effort in securing the refined cazzo di cristalli magici for things like your etheric nodes."

The man listened but the mystery was whether such was out of interest or merely more of the polite detachment that he had previously demonstrated so excellently. His posture shifted as he clasped hands in front of him and considered with a slight glance upwards.

"And would you be open to a provisional period were we to attempt a contract? A trial, as it were, to demonstrate ability and thus worth of sustained commerce? You understand many can come and promise the heavens but when it comes to matters such as this... We don't like to play games. The Nodes make our way of life possible." He concluded quietly with some consideration of Alessandro, with another glance stolen towards the small note book as they continued to speak. There was opportunity but The Republic was known to expect results from those that provided them with the means to fuel their economy and manufactured exports.

"As you wish within the bounds of custom and law, Signore...?", Alessandro inquires. It was one thing to perk a flunky's interest to draw his master's attention but eventually he would have to talk with his superiors.

"Jenkins. Signore Da Vigo." the man replied calmly with a perfunctory nod of the head as he glanced towards the more distinguished core of their small galaxy of dignitaries, aides, and attendants. The very guests of honour that Alessandro now sought the approval and business of. Of course, it all relied entirely upon the producing of results else he would find himself swiftly black listed as impostor and waste of time.

"Signore Jenkins", says Alessandro as he follows the man's gaze. Reaching beneath his cloak the young nobleman draws forth a beautiful box composed of multi-hued glass with the da Vigo crest prominent in red upon its lid. Upon the lid is a fanciful interpretation of the capital city of Bright's skyline. He pushes it into the man's hands,"A sample of the lenses we discussed. I would add that a shipment could be sent tonight if you wished, along with some other rare earths. Metals will require a bit more time. I hope you bring this to your director's attention tonight. This is an absolutely golden opportunity for both of us, don't you thing? Its worthy of your trade missions full attention."

"I shall have it appraised and then bring it to the Ambassador's attention. Should we wish to proceed, one of our gentlemen will be in touch to make arrangements. I assume there's a man of yours we can ask after should you not be available?" Jenkins replied with some quiet consideration of the box handed to him. Fingers playing lightly over the glass before opening to glimpse the contents and closing the lid just as delicately. Prolonged exposure outside of a stable enclosure could degrade the quality of the crystal but a quick glimpse was a standard custom of such interactions as this.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:39, Sat 10 Feb 2018.

"You can contact the da Vigo estate through my man Signore Leobardo", Alessandro replies with a nod as he withdraws a card and adds it to Jenkin's hand. "I look forward to future dealings, Signore Jenkins. This can be profitable for both my House and your trade mission."

Alessandro gives a polite bow as both men go their way. It had been satisfactory as far as it went. Assuming the man was half way competent he would recognize the good fortune he had stumbled upon. In any case the Bright delegation wasn't the only iron in the fire.

He felt a certain tension leave his body as he turned to the party. Maybe it was time to enjoy himself now that first contact had been made. Swirling his now empty wine cup he snags a fresh one off a passing tray and reenters the swirl of bodies.

He hadn't checked on his 'charge' in a while. Time to see what the illustrious Alessia Rivera is up too.

It was hardly difficult to find the Spoiled Lady as she was, as ever, surrounded by the great and good of her particular social level. As many of them women as the varied men of the nobility. The conversation animate but defined by the particular manners of 'high society' as Vissio. Gwyndolin, meanwhile, lingered eternally patient a mere three strides away... A distance most duelists and professional body guards might deem too far for the defense of their charge but Alessandro had seen the woman in motion.

She was as lightening when she sensed a problem and had been razor quick to put an end to it before it could be anything more than an upsetting bit of blood on an otherwise spotless evening. The question remained as to whom he approached or if he simply lingered among those presently deemed his peers and equals.

Alessandro's easy walk became more professional as he wended his way through the celebrants toward Gywndolin. A glance at the spiraling glass water clock their hosts were so proud of showed the hour. Not only was the clock three minutes and twenty-two seconds off it was about time to relieve the senior bodyguard for a spell.

Alessandro empties his winecup and sets the glass upon a passing servant's tray. Straightening his vest he moves alongside Gwyndion while sharp eyes informed him of their charge's position.

"Feel free to take a walk, Gwyndion. I'll keep an eye on things". suggests the young man though he knew the dedicated woman would just as likely stay at her post. "We've got long hours ahead of us yet."

"A safe bet on that fact... Keep eyes on the Blond. The boy has ambitions to him that aren't being made with his head." the Personal Guard of the Lady Rivera said with a quiet tone and a nod towards the gentleman in question. Striking in the way of Vissio's nobility, he had the added distinction of seeming to be one cut from the stuff of the Republic rather than of the native sons and daughters. His pale complexion and light hair a dead give away when contrasted against the olive skin and dark hair of the other nobility.

That he was almost scandalously close to the Lady Rivera only served to accentuate the point. As long as it didn't cross that line of discretion, all was well... but if it did well one blade or another would need to step in.

Alessandro observed the dandy with foreign sensibilities in court dress and nodded. A grin spreads across his face which he quickly snuffs out in this company. "I'll make sure the little bastard does nothing our little mistress doesn't want."

It was hard to hide his good mood from Gwyndolin as they conversed. "I wonder if that blond hair is dye..."

"If you can suss out what she wants, I'll dub it a miracle." Gwyndolin replied with a snort of amusement as she rested a hand on hip and blade. The gesture natural and graceful in the way of the older and disciplined woman. She stretched slightly then in the way of one still refusing to give up any awareness of her surroundings as she quickly scanned the crowd and turned at the waist.

"Doubt it. No roots. Sister used to be fond of doing that to impress." Gwyndolin added in a low whisper that implied such was a family secret. Of a sort.

Alessandro smiles conspiratorially at the mention of Gwyndolin's older sister. "Marriage has settled her down a bit but she still has an interesting predilection for imported hats if not exotically colored hair these days."

Alessandro kept discipline even as they conversed, his eyes roving over the crowd before settling back on their ward,"As for Alessia...you would know her more than I do. Haven't really talked to her since we were children. Probably wants the same thing all of us do: security in our station, prestige, wealth. I suspect she isn't feeling as secure in her father's trust as his heir since her brothers were born."

"She has, and always will be, the family's peacock. She just never had the good graces to realize it was the males putting on the display." Gwyndolin replied with a chuckle and a shrug of her shoulders as fingers traced the hilt and her eyes continued to scan the crowd. Even 'at ease' the older woman never seemed to truly have a chance to relax. It was likely to mean an early grave to stress if not the blades of an irate rake.

"She plays things close to the chest but there's an end game to what she's doing. You don't set fire to bridges like she does without a certain ambition unless you just don't happen to like being alive any more." the woman offered quietly with eyes glancing towards the Lady Rivera once more and then flicking to the blonde haired gentleman a moment later. "And no one is ever as secure as they may seem about the affections or trust of another as they let on. That's just a rule of the Game."

Alessandro nods reluctantly in agreement with Gwyndolin's assessment of Alessia. Whatever his feelings for the stuck-up woman Alessia was intelligent. Wise? That remained to be seen.

"Well...you know how it goes. It's only a good plan if it works. Most trading families husband their reputations and contacts very carefully and for good reason. Whatever Alessia's reasons for, as you say, burning bridges it had better be worth what she is throwing away."

Noticing the extra amount of attention paid to the blond gentleman Alessandro asks with a smile,"What is the blond's story anyway? He seems to have you particularly on edge. Should I perhaps see him on his way? I'm not long for Alessia's entourage anyway so you can always blame the 'brash rake'." 

"New Money and the foolishness that comes along with it." Gwyndolin said simply with a slight curl of lip that illustrated a certain distaste for willful ignorance that she was rather well known for. It made the point well enough that the boy was playing with fire that was going to burn them all the minute he missed his step or a queue in the game that was playing out. Certainly, they all appeared lovely lords and ladies in the prime of their youth... but there was always the Game behind it.

Alessandro turns to the dandy at Gwyndolin's unspecific answer, taking it as permission. The ebb and flow of the little crowd around Alessia sets his timing as he waits for an opportune moment. Soon a temporary space surrounds the belle and her admirer. As the blond raises his wine glass while listening to Alessia Alessandro wills the essence of Earth in it to act.

With a spintering crack the bottom of the wine glass breaks sending red wine cascading down the man's light doublet in a crimson stain. Amidst the stunned silence he steps up to the blonde, a concerned look on his face.

"My good man! This is terrible! We should see to your distress...perhaps the house servants have an extra doublet we can substitute? Come! Let's see to this!"

A friendly sympathetic smile crosses Alessandro's face and an guiding arm seeks to speed the man on his way without provoking the blond.

[Builder of Mountain Peaks to crack the glass, no Effort needed, and using my character's Fact as a fellow dandy to work him away from his target.]

17:03, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 19 using 1d20+4 ((15)).

+10 on the Ability Check to maneuver Blond out of the area of Alessia.

The Man, to his credit, did not seem too put off by the sudden shattering of the glass in his hand and turned just so as to avoid splashing his fellows. A strange gesture of courtesy but it was one tinged by that subtle underlying of cocksure awareness of social protocol that plagued so many that were freshly thrust upon the social scene. Composure failed, just enough, however for a hissed curse to escape and in tandem with the shattering of the glass all this was witnessed by the gathering.

Alessandro's timely self insertion, however, allowed him an out upon which he grasped in the instance.

"Thank you, if you wouldn't mind. Seems I gripped the stem a bit too tightly."

It took only a few minutes for Alessandro to guide the flummoxed noble into the hands of sympathetic servants. A few commiserating words and Alessandro is content to see the man shuffled off into some back room to restore his dignity. The blond was unlikely to be a bother anytime soon as the whirl of the party resumed around him.

He turns back to Alessia and Gwyndolin and makes his way through the little crowd around her. He resumes his position at the Girl's side, hands neatly clasped behind him. A glance at Alessia is fortified by a insolent grin before smoothing away into professionalism.

"That wasn't so hard." he chuckles to Gwyndolin.

The commotion and clatter of it had certainly done more than enough to twist attention one way or another. At the center of it was Alessia, however, who seemed composed but perhaps less than thrilled by the turn of events. Her eyes narrowing ever so slightly in response to Alessandro's insolent grin even as she turned her back to continue on with affable grace with some of the other women and young men that lingered around her. It was a satisfying moment but perhaps hollow in a sense... After all, it was not the stage where she'd make a scene or thrash and scream.

The elbow from Gwnydolin was, perhaps, more deserved for being a cheeky bastard about the situation.

"Oof," grunts Alessandro without heat, rubbing his side,"That was uncalled for, Gwyndolin."

"Besides it was totally worth it!", the smile returns in force. Alessia had gotten a bit too comfortable behind the fortress of her station whatever her plans. A minor ribbing was a small comeuppance for that mistake.  His bit of fun over Alessandro returns to a proper deferential pose.

A small sigh escapes him as his eyes continue roving for imaginary assassins and stealers of Alessia's virtue. "Admittedly I won't miss this. Well...I'll miss you, Gwyndolin."

"Planning on a long, long vacation from all the charm of this?" the Older Woman quipped with a touch of dry humor that could only be born out of a deep appreciation of her service. She was neither bitter or jaded by her experiences as far as Alessandro knew, simply a realist and one who understand the tiring nature of her detail and position.

The sarcasm, at least, was well placed considering the existed as little more than convenient tools in the eyes of the great and good. Men and women talented with a blade that could put an end to anything that might threaten them... and liabilities at worst when the famed hot blood of any rake or duelist caused more trouble than their service might be worth.

"It'll be a loss since there aren't many anymore coming out of those academies that can be made to see a bit of reason."

"When you say 'planning' you mean 'daydreaming'," Alessandro quips in reply to Gwyndolin's sarcasm. His talk of bigger things to come would hardly be the first time she has heard that tired refrain from other hopeful rakes down on their luck. "Which would of been an entirely adequate description a month or two ago. Things have changed."

He meets Gyndolin's eyes with a considering look, "I had better reasons to attend this party than to be a wall for Ms. Alessia to hide her virtue behind, not to mention I promised you I'd be on the detail. There are business deals to be made and I've achieved some success. Plus I have other tongs in the fire. In a week I'll be gone on what could be a very lucrative expedition."

His face cracks in a smile that had been all but unseen in the last year of his genteel poverty and deterioration of the family fortunes, "You are a good woman, Gwyndolin. I would tell you more but you do work for the House of Rivera. I'd hate to test your friendship and loyalty like that."

Alessandro cocks his head, "Unless you would consider my previous offer of employment. The House da Vigo is going places and I can afford to pay loyal, good men and women well."

"I am, woefully, a creature of habit but I'll keep it in mind. Without me here, though, I think the House would have burnt to the ground a long time ago." Gwnydolin offered with another rasp of dry humour in voice and tone as she continued to watch. The clatter of the martial demonstrations picking up once more beneath the regimented playing of clock work musicians attended to by their studious maestros.

The Game, as it was called, continued to play out around them in subtle and careful ways. The Young Lady seeming to be adept in it's more aggressive forms if only for how she so burned bridges and drove off those who she did not care for the presence of. An enemy was as often a measure of one's worth and principles, after all, as it was the nature of one's own personal charisma.

In short, great people often had great enemies... and for those not so great... Variety was certainly a spice of life.

The last hours of the night whiled away in small talk with Gwyndolin when the bell sounded for the Last Dance. An old custom to signal the end of the day and a hopeful tomorrow and one much beloved by young people since it tended toward a more romantic air. Tapping his foot a fit of impatience with the evening's charade wore on Alessandro when a impish idea crossed his mind.

The rake hands his barely touched wine to a passing servant as he nods to Gwyndolin,"Thank you for the work when I needed it. I'll remember this. But as of now I'm officially resigning from the detail. Tell your master you fired me if things go sour. Good luck, Gwyndolin!"

With that Alessandro eases his way through the small cluster of hangers-on that always surrounded the young heiress, Alessia Rivera. Deftly he positions himself directly in front of Lady Alessia Rivera, and bows with a grand flourish of his feathered hat.

"My Lady Alessia! I have come to collect on your debt!", the words flow smoothly bringing a silence to the surrounding watchers. A cheerful smile crosses his face as he meets her eyes. "A promise you made if I drove off little Adar Malon for posing a nuisance and hair pulling, if I remember your charges correctly. It was on your ninth birthday of course and the reward was a kiss but unfortunately you were nowhere to be found when I returned. Quite understandable for a little lady on her ninth birthday to be very busy! And I wouldn't dream of asking for the promised kiss on this very proper night. But a dance...the Last Dance...would be an excellent way to settle accounts."

There was a peculiar, brooding silence at Alessandro's approach and the following words. A few less discrete individuals of the gathering sparing a glance to the Rivera heir. From his perspective, she was cornered in a sense as there was few angles by which to escape such a moment without either a measure of social faux pas or to otherwise become the butt of the joke for the next few gatherings of the great and good.  Perhaps worryingly, the young heiress smiled and held out her hand.

A reaction that went contrary, it seemed, to the expectations of her clique and gathering... especially for the discouraging elements of Alessandro's own personal pedigree.

Alessandro, for his part, certainly knew to accept was to invite the wolf into his home if one were to be a fraction poetic about it.

"Certainly, a Rivera has never once forgotten her debts and the ledgers that hold them."

Alessandro beams in reply, "The Rivera reputation for constancy is as sure as the mountains, it is said. And might I add that its scion is equally lovely."

Taking her proffered hand the rake leads the Rivera scion past the gawking onlookers, graceful as years of hard training in the halls of the duelists can make one. If Alessia showed any hesitancy or unsureness of foot Alessandro compensates with supreme skill, a skill that would of eluded the Godbound only months before. His presence shone in the flames of the chandeliers, settling like a stone in a still pool as he and the woman he escorted sailed through the assembling dancers like swans among ducks.

There was little point in hiding his light under a bushel anymore, thought the heir of the Da Vigo House. A sly glance at his one time boss revealed a stoic version of near apoplexy and he gave a tiny grin in response. The message was clear. Gwyndolin's charge is in no danger from Alessandro.

Facing his dance partner his face smooths over into a friendly contenance, his eyes dancing with sly humor and a bit of a dare. The music starts as the nobleman takes Alessia's hand and slides his arm around her waist. An appropriate distance to be sure but the whole point of the dance was romance.

"I am very pleased you accepted my invitation, Alessia. Its been too long since we last talked. So much to catch up on!", he says in a low voice as they begin to move to the music.

There was no hesitation and the fact was both frightening and becoming for it. Alessia had accepted the situation though her displeasure remained hidden away as the dance begin. She moved with a formal sort of grace; not an effortless motion but a mindfulness that spoke to training and practice to overcome a natural short coming. Another careful construction of her outward persona. A mask by any other name.

"You didn't leave me with many other choices in the moment. Is catching all you're aiming for? Karma's had a way of haunting me lately..." Alessia offered in response her eyes flicking briefly towards Alessandro before returning to her surroundings and the flow of the music. Her voice had that trill of anger that agency had been stolen from her but it seemed, in a sense, directionless in the instant. That coolness, however, remained.

Alessandro 'hmmed' as the slender woman in his arms painted a picture of bitterness and regret. The daring rake faded as a distant sympathy replaces it, a tinge of humor overlaying it all.

"Karma is a Dulimbaian concept of spiritual renewal, less concerned about justice or vengeance then it is in teaching an individual to accept their mistakes and past dark times, to move on to a better existence.", the academic in Alessandro replies pedantically before bringing his words to a point in a soft, sympathetic voice, "in a sense this applies to me. This dance is a celebration, a declaration that I am moving past a dark time in my life. I am saying I'm the equal of anybody here and plan to live my way."

The dance moves into a livelier step and the couple swirl across the dancefloor, dipping and shifting in response to each other. Whatever bitterness rules in the heads of the dancers it has no appearance in the graceful movements.

"If you are accusing me of stealing you away for a few moments to dance I suppose I have to admit this is true. I saw a challenging, beautiful, and witty woman and decided the pursuit of a dance was worth it. You are free to forget it as a social inconvenience with a mouthy, arrogant rake if you like. I would say that perhaps Karma is finally opening a door for you that may lead one Alessia Rivera to better times if you permit it. "

The rake's words are both oddly sympathetic to whatever bitterness rules the dark little woman and an almost joyous declaration in the movement of the dance in what it represented to him. A smile lights his face as they enter a particularly difficult part of the dance, the woman's skirt flowing and the man a pillar of grace. Onlookers watch raptly, first for the scandal and later in grudging admiration.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:45, Sun 18 Mar 2018.

"Congratulations on your new found options." the Rivera heir offered as she matched step and tune with the music as shifted gears and cants. Her expression thoughtful and brooding... That subtle hint of something beneath the otherwise composed and cool beauty of her outward facing mask. It was a strange side of her to see but even in this dark mood of hers, she struck as arrogant and prideful in her way as she continued with the practiced grace of a trained dancer.

"If I permit it or will it simply knock and force along without a care or thought for my consent? As so many things have done in the past. Regardless, enjoy this dance and your brighter future." the Woman offered again in the way of one who had seemed pigeonholed into her corner and now resigned to accept. This creature, a paragon of success and status, so bitter was a strange sight even as she continued to smile and give every impression of enjoying herself in this dance of theirs. An actress, it seemed to the core.

"Consent?" , Alessandro drawled in bafflement. For a short moment the da Vigo scion is caught between being offended or laughing. Alessia's petulant defeatism didn't make for the most winning personality. It certainly explained some of her actions in pushing away potential contacts and alliances but not the why of it.

Still Alessandro had always seen something in the Rivera woman even when complaining bitterly about her pettiness. Maybe it was just the fact the woman was a looker by any standard, maybe it was a twisted sense of empathy with somebody who seemed so alienated. He was more than familiar with those feelings. Distant sympathy tinging his voice as he spoke.

"Consent? Alessia, I don't pretend to be a mind reader to know your problems and you have never told me.", Alessandro protested even as they swept around the outer bounds of the dance floor. "To be blunt I've been pre-occupied with House da Vigo's own considerable problems with little time to spare on gossip."

Alessandro didn't bother elucidating what those problems were. Alessia had been kind enough to remind him of it repeatedly.

"None the less you are the heir apparent of the Rivera company and logically someone important to talk to if I want to foster good relations. Unduly offending you was the last thing I had intended."

Cocking his head the head of House da Vigo asks, "What is it that makes the heir of the Rivera company feel so trapped?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:23, Fri 23 Mar 2018.

This message was deleted by the player at 19:20, Fri 23 Mar 2018.

The Woman held her peace as they continued their dance; her steps elegant and suffuse with practiced grace. There was still that chill and arrogant bearing that lingered but it seemed far more a shell against the world and unwanted circumstance now then necessarily any true defect of her personal character. Still, there was a reason behind it and the careful burning of bridges that had so suffused her present rise to the status of heir.

"I may be the heir but it doesn't seem to mean I'll have any control. Father's far too invested in ensuring a proper legacy. So here I am." the woman offered simply and quietly. The patriarch of the family was certainly no longer in the summer of his life but it was true enough that he could no doubt hold the reins for many years to come and that meant if one desired and valued their post... They suffered his whim.

Alessandro considered her answer in light of her actions to date. "Is there a strategy in your aggressive refusal of contacts potentially valuable to your house? Are you trying to undermine your father so that you can take control?"

It was a bit of a risky question but Alessia seemed willing to fracture her mask to let some light shine through.

"Some are not approved of by my father... Some are not approved of by me." Alessia offered, perhaps, obliquely to the question as she continued to twist and dance with Alessandro. Her steps light, graceful, and as practiced as ever. If there was a method to her madness and the burning of select members of her circle... Which there seemed to be... It was a secret she seemed content to keep.

Alessia's reticence to say more was to be expected to such blunt questioning. Less expectedly Alessandro was recognizing a growing impatience with the song and dance of politics and intrigue in himself. It was just so easy to re-align the world with an expression of power into something he liked better.

Not that such use was necessarily immoral or surprising. Those rare few houses that have even a second rate theurgist among their numbers were known for their strings of incredible luck if subtle, or outright terrifying their opponents into compliance if not. Theurgy. People may fear or hate it but they all wanted that sort of supreme power on their side.

Alessandro knew he was rationalizing what he was going to do next but that didn't make him wrong. Quashing his unease Alessandro keeps one hand on the small of Alessia's lithe back, the other cupping her small hand, the smile reappearing and eyes dancing with sly humor again.

"Keep your secrets. I do not doubt that your schemes will bear fruit, your father's leadership will be called into question, and you will find yourself the defacto head of House Rivera. All within the span of days. Allow me to congratulate you on your success."

His voice takes on a rolling timbre as he speaks, subtle and almost unnoticeable as the music plays on. For a moment the room seems to freeze, holding its breath, as Alessandro's influence reaches into the future to make his words truth. Above the crowd their host's celebrated water clock trembles, a crack appearing on the clock face.

[Activating Prophetic Insight, Committing Effort for the Day. If she makes her Spirit save or not it shouldn't matter since I'll just shotgun the Gift until she fails. Presumably she will not want to resist a favorable future but what do I know? lol]

The Rivera heir spared a glance towards Alessandro and a twitch of expression that implied doubt and perhaps a measure of distaste. It was the ravings of a madman even with the force of divine power behind it. It was, after all, not exactly the story one would wish to hear even if ambition had so thoroughly consumed them as to make the notion of misfortune upon their father a desired end.

"Your... vote of confidence is appreciated." she offered ultimately in a clear inclination towards diplomacy. Especially whilst she was still in clear physical proximity and at a small disadvantage given their respective backgrounds when it came to the possibility of an altercation.

Alessandro's impulsive use of divinity has put Alessia on guard. Recognizing her strain the man politely steps back a pace and bows as the reel comes to an end, his face sober now that he has exercised his impulse.

"Time will tell the tale. When the moment comes remember this conversation and my proposal. Thank you. You are a most gracious dance partner. Good evening."

With that Alessandro bows once more to leave the bemused woman to her own devices, nodding to Gwyndolin on his way out the front door. Time to collect Marengo and head home. Its been a long day.

The Lady Rivera watched him for a time before retreating from the dance floor to rejoin the gathering of the great and good.

Alessandro, now, was free to pursue his evening however as the various guardians and their charges slowly drew near each other. Gwyndolin's stare not lost on the departing godbound for a moment before she was forced to the matter of her own duties. It took little time at all to find his horse and to depart the scenes of opulence that surrounded the estate. A glimpse of that brawler with her mechanics and companions a parting sight.

The road home, by contrast, lonely without even the antagonistic presence of the other rakes and the various forms of camaraderie that could be found among the more open minded.

The lonely road is a soothing balm on da Vigo's excited mind as Marengo's hooves clap at a leisurely pace back to their home. Today had been a wealth of opportunities beyond what he had expected upon waking. Magical connections and lore, a grand adventure into forgotten ruins, a trade deal with the Bright Republic in the offing, and the restoration of his home. Those things he considered a lock assuming no odd interference. As for Alessia...it was up in the air what was going to happen there. That she would become head of her trade house wasn't in dispute. But this didn't translate into gratitude or a desire for an alliance. Ah well... The whole situation had been strange for her so it would be understandable.

Now to deal with the week he had in front of him. Restoration of the estate would be easy enough to do with his powers. A cargo of precious gems sent to the right trade houses, banks, and workers would see House da Vigo flush and well staffed again. His man Leobardo was certainly skilled enough to handle the mundane transactions.

No doubt he should follow up his query with the Bright delegation with some letters and presents. Remind them of House da Vigo and press for securing a proper trade alliance. It would put da Vigo on the map again as a power to be reckoned with if everything else did not.

Ah...that reminded him. The House was vulnerable in its current fallen state and it would take time to see to its security. Perhaps those Brawlers might consider a commission in return for backing and facilities? The woman had show impressive fighting skills.

da Vigo pats his satchel with a growing grin. But for tonight it was time to indulge a little and see what exactly he had bought in this arcane book he had bought from the bookseller. His hobby and obsession. If it wasn't for everything else he would lock himself in his observatory and not come out for a month.

[Committing 1 Influence to restore the estate and settle debts.

Committing 1 Influence to see that the Bright trade deal is pulled off.

Write a letter or two inviting the Brawlers to a meeting some morning during the week.

Spend the rest of the time parsing the spell tome for anything useful. ]

The Brawlers proved an interesting group as a result of Alessandro's research. Some were disruptive, abrasive ruffians while others preferred to comport themselves as artists and duelists in the proper traditions of the Academies. The latter proving more common than the former but that seemed more a quirk of numbers and the fact that the one he was most interested in had been invited to a formal demonstration. The woman, unsurprisingly, was an easy name to dig up and seemed to be a sole disciple of one of the original founders of the notion of brawling.

Lately she had taken to answering to Chiara, forgoing her family name with studious care. Alessandro's own invitations met with an almost mechanically precise hand written response that was no surprise but that there was a flare of personality behind it that came across as both blunt and curious certainly piqued the interest in it's own right.

It left the matter of a time and place open to Alessandro's choosing. A distinct point of etiquette that was often enough lost on the average ruffian.

The next day saw Alessandro waking before sunrise. Rather than bother his staff the young man dressed himself as had become his custom while skipping breakfast. Whatever the origins of his new powers it provided the ability to subsist without food. A handy tool and timesaver. His mind flashes to the letter he had received from the Brawler, gratifyingly prompt and polite. A quick response was deserved but first he needed to make sure that he had something to offer them.

A quick tour of the da Vigo library's section on Patrian architecture soon revealed what he sought. A architectural blueprint of one of the more ancient Patrian dojo lay out before him, a famous if modest building, utilitarian in the Patrian style, but famed for its ceiling frescoes of ancient Unitarian saints or the battles of the Remnant Empires and their Made Gods. It seemed like a suitable studio for the prosaic practices of the Brawlers. Still a few changes to suit the da Vigo name were in order. For the next hour Alessandro scrawled notes and diagrams before sitting back, satisfied. It would do.

Hours later in the long unused southern portions of the estate Alessandro lets the divine powers flowing through the earth lapse to admire the finished work. It was as if the ancient Patrian structure of stone had been transported wholecloth, fountain, exercise yards, small baths, and the main hall with its dormitories. It was the same yet subtlely different, with many of the originals blank stone faces replaced with a running story of Howler myths of heroes and demons and the fall of their Former Empire. It still lacked the detailed amenities that his powers were unable to replicate but that's why he had brought Leobardo along. Turning to the man who stood stunned at the sight of the work of magic he had witnessed Alessandro snapped his fingers. "Leobardo!", a smile graces Alessandro's fine features,"Wake up! We'll need to provide exercise mats, racks, cots, chests, and other providences for a dojo's residents. Please see to it?"

Later in the high observatory that topped the da Vigo residence and doubled as Alessandro's office he wrote his response to the Brawler, inviting her to join him in a discussion that night if she was available.

[Using Builder of Mountain Peaks to construct a modest dojo in the southern estate, adjacent to the lower gardens and a side street for easy access.]

The game of letters played out with it's typical efficiency before Chiara made her presence known at the estate. Her attire not much changed from her dueling with one of the Masters' at the part not so long ago in memory. There was, however, a hint of conservative restraint in how the sleeves clung to the clockwork prosthetic that replaced her arms and also seemed to replace her legs.

Up close and not locked in frenetic movement, one could also start to get an appreciation for the woman proper. An ugly mass of scarring playing havoc with the lines of her features and hinting at a reason beyond, solely, a desire for more power driving her adoption of clockwork limbs. It also made a point, in it's own right, that such was not required to be an effective adherent of her particular school and state of mind. Beyond that, she had the cut and bearing of one of a noble line and the untouched portion of her features were fine enough if perhaps too sharp for the tastes of most. One could almost imagine cutting themselves on the line of her chin bone and jaw.

"Master Da Vigo." she greeted politely after introductions were played out by Leobardo who paid a careful mind to their guest if only because she seemed a dangerous sort despite her composure.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:12, Thu 12 Apr 2018.

The da Vigo observatory's telescope gleams of brass and glass in its ornate cast iron setting, its nose pointed toward the clear heavens peeking through the slot in the roof. At its eyepiece crouches the da Vigo scion, long hair obscuring his face as he studies the stars. At Leobardo's announcement of their visitor he starts upright. The look of startlement is banished in a welcoming grin as he descends from the telescopes platform, navigating tables scattered with astrological diagrams and piles of haphazardly piled books.

The observatory is dimly lit by candlelight emanating from a table set with the makings of a elegant meal. Leobardo takes a position to serve as Alessandro gestures to the settings, "Welcome Miss Chiara. I'm very glad to meet you. Please...join me for a late supper. Discussions are always more fruitful over a good meal and some wine."

Leobardo is already pouring wine in glasses before he begins to serve the victuals. Alessandro takes a seat after politing waiting for his guest to take hers.

"I'm a devotee of the dueling arts and I have to say you and your Brawlers made quite an impact at the XXX Gala. I knew I had to meet you."

This message was last edited by the player at 01:19, Thu 12 Apr 2018.

"I try to avoid wine myself. It... doesn't agree with me." the Brawler replied with a gesture of one hand. The glint of steel, gold, and platinum giving it a true baroque impression as she moved towards the table at her host's invitation. The soft tread of boot solid and practical in the way of her school and style. The grace equally practical and, in a way, brutal in the way of some great hunting canine rather than the prized feline grace of the edged schools.

"Not that I'd turn it down." she added as she gently lifted and pulled the chair back. That worming impression of some noble heritage working it's way into the back of Alessandro's mind as she seated herself, quietly glanced over the arrangement of utensils, plates, and glasses with a practiced sort of awareness of each's purpose and place in the course of a meal.

"I'm glad someone enjoyed the show. Most don't care for the... aesthetic of the School. It's too variable and doesn't have that same sort of elegance they always like to ascribe to the Steels. I could probably show you a half dozen other brawlers and they'd all have their own equally unique way of fighting. Lawless as anywhere else." she offered with a chuckle that some again somewhere between noblewoman and good humored dock hand.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:55, Fri 13 Apr 2018.

"Its not their ability or lack there of to heel to the law I find interesting.", Alessandro replied as he picked up the utensils beside his plate.

"To be frank I've only really paid attention to the Brawlers since that impressive display against Sir DuBois. I can see why traditionalists of the Steels might be bothered by your style's unorthodoxy but its that same difference which intrigued me. It made for a very interesting match-up and a lively part of an otherwise dull evening." Alessandro replies with an answering smile as he cut into his dinner.

"My own style is more orthodox. Twin shortblades of the Coltello affilato."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:05, Fri 13 Apr 2018.

"Tradition has always been a tightly held thing for us even when we like to present ourselves as lively and dynamic. My family doesn't really approve of my associations." Chiara offered with a faint chuckle as she continued through the meal with all the grace of a proper noble woman and not the scarred and reconstructed woman that she was in the instant. There was certainly the impressions of an interesting story to her as she glanced up in response to the declaration of his style.

"May I ask which master you trained under? I've known a few to prefer two short steels. One even so luck as to foul up my left arm by embedding the blade just so." she offered in a remarkably candid demonstration with the point of her knife. "I've had my maestro somewhat alter the design after a bit of, ahem, a discussion." Chiara added with a laugh and a small gesture of hand to emphasize the understatement.

Alessandro chuckles at Chiara's story, "I've heard of maestro's going out of business because they stubbornly cling to their 20 year old designs...as some rising star dislodges them with their new designs! I am not surprised to hear this."

Pouring more wine for himself and whatever the Brawler fancies he waves his cup around wine splashing in his enthusiasm, as he imitates his club's shield of crossed vertical and horizontal daggers, "My master is Stelio Barsotti, a knife-fighting dockhand whose skill with a knife is too good for the aristocracy to ignore! He's all fancy and polite these days but get him drunk an he cusses like the stevedore he used to be! He'll never admit it while sober though."

"I like the dueling daggers. The hand guard makes a handy set of brass knuckles when you need them."

"A man who lives by the sword's liable to die by it. A maestro isn't any different with their designs. I was afraid I'd actually have to hit him over the head with the fruits of his own labor." Chiara elaborated with a laugh that had that same mix of proper nobility and some good natured dock hand. It was clear enough that unlike most she seemed to have a broad circle in which to strut and run when it came to station and character.

"I think I've had a chance to rub shoulders with him actually... Yes, he called me a clock work thug! I had to usher out half my hangers on before things got, well, out of hand. A word can sting but knives and fists do a better job of it." the Woman added with a careful sip of wine. The motions of her arms still seemed precise but there was just a hint of sluggishness there. Exaggerated almost as if the alcohol was having an affect far earlier than it ought to. Her diction, however, remained clear and eyes bright and focused.

A gesture was made towards her nose with an extension of one pinky.

"Been on the receiving end of that... Upward angle too. Few extra degrees and wouldn't be sitting here talking."

 ""You saved many lives that day!", Alessandro rejoined with good humor , "Master Barsotti is exceedingly proud of his school and his good sense disappears in proportion to the number of cups he has had!

Chiara's notable difficulties, subtle as they were, becomes apparent to the Godbound's perceptions as the conversation continues. Alessandro puzzled on the matter before guessing it was a conflict of the wine with the efficacy of her prosthesis. Unfortunate but such extensive alterations to a person's body was likely to result in unintended consequences. Well...no matter. Chiara was evidently clear-headed.

When Chiara draws attention to her nose's past encounter with a knife-fighter's basket he nods in understanding. Broken noses were a common training accident among Barsotti's school, underscoring how effective it was in close quarters. She had indeed been lucky.

"No doubt! But you sit here and you have survived more than your fair share of encounters if your reputation is anything to go by. Skill more than luck sustains you!", Alessandro says while downing the last of his wine. He felt the turning of the hour and could see the growing fatigue in loyal Leobardo. It was time to let him clean up and retire for the evening. Turning to his guest he adds, " I've not had so many encounters but consider myself a fair representative of Master Barsotti's school. Would you indulge me in a contest of arms?"

"If you'd like though I'd like to know the terms first?" the woman replied with a thoughtful frown as she set down the glass and gently worked the fingers of one mechanical hand. The faint clicks audible across the table as she forced a certain alacrity back into the limb that alcohol had seemed to play havoc with. Her manner remained affable though in the moment as she kept an eye on Alessandro even as she continued to quietly check over her prosthetic limbs.

Alessandro bounces up from the table, waving for Leobardo to clear the dishes. Affection is clear in his voice as he waits for his guest to join him. "Let's let Leobardo clean up and retire for the evening. He's had a long day."

"Just a test of skill. Nothing too serious, Chiara. Plus I'd like to show you something if you will follow me."

The evening is sultry as Alessandro leads his guest down the stairs and out of the big house's sidedoors into the estate gardens. Signs of recent renovation and renewal are everywhere in neatly stacked boxes of seed, tools, and other things needed to revive the garden's beauty. For now the garden was quiet with only the walnut trees arching overhead to lend a sussurus of leaves in the night breeze. Eventually the descend into the lower gardens down a paved path.

The freshly minted dueling halls gleam in the moonlight as a the central fountain in the taining yard merrily splashes water into its basin. A few lanterns set earlier cast a ruddy glow over the frescoes adorning the walls and pillars surrounding the sandy yard. Ancient saints and villains cast their empty eyed gaze upon the man and woman as they enter. A few boxes of equipment waited to be unpacked for the otherwise bare halls.

"I had this recently...uh...constructed. Its based on a ancient Patrian style but I found it suitable for a fighting style's main school."

Turning he gestures to the open yard. a touch of humor is in his voice. "As I said this is for fun. I'd rather not be perforated before going to bed."

Stopping at a rack loaded with a few practice weapons he draws two dueling 'daggers' and turns to Chiara.

The woman considered the arena with something like a thoughtful frown upon her features; measuring the place for the little hints of advantage that an environment might provide. It showed a shrewdness as she shrugged aside the outer jacket she wore to reveal the full extent of the clockwork arms. Each a work of art in their own right with careful etchings of steel, gold, and the black of some other exotic material that no doubt played an integral part in ensuring their integrity.

She bounced lightly from foot to foot then before removing her boots with a frown to reveal yet more of the same diligent clockwork. Each toe working individually with careful clicks of gear and cable. A hint of that familiar precision and alacrity returning as she no longer was taking in the wine but still just sluggish enough to present an edge to a skilled appoint. A fact she seemed to note with a soft sigh as she bounced again from foot to foot with what would be envious grace in one possessed of their original legs.

Eventually, she assumed a fighting stance with one hand beckoning her host to come at her.

Alessandro bounced on the balls of his feet while testing the weight of the practice blades. Satisfied with the balance of both he turns to face his opponent. Excellent training and experience from a few past duels allowed him to read Chiara's discomfort with the alcohol. Any remorse he might of found in the unasked for advantage is brushed aside under the purity of his focus. Only the fight mattered. Only how to defeat her.

A moment of balance holds between them and then Alessandro takes the woman's taunt and moves in a blur.

[Using Master level Stirfe fo the Bitter Rival: can roll twice and take the best number, and attack twice against a single opponent.]

07:05, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 5 using 1d20+3.  2nd reroll.

07:05, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 12 using 1d20+3.  2nd knife strike.

07:05, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  reroll 1.

07:04, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  Knife strikes.

07:07, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 7 using 1d10+2.  2nd kinfe damage.

07:06, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 12 using 1d10+2.  1st knife damage.

Rolled a 21 and a 12 for strikes without her AC.

Damage is 4 damage for first knife strike and 2 for the 2nd damage.

The first practice knife connected with steel and sundry metals in a dull thud, the limb barely yielding but giving just enough to imply she had to flex with the blow. The second, though, went wide of it's mark as she hooked an arm in just before the full speed of the quick slash could develop and turned it off course with surprising strength of her own. The metal of her arms was cold and pitiless as she came back around. Her balance recovered and a hint of that mechanically precise speed and control evident as she weaved and moved.

It was clear enough, however, that whatever interaction between alcohol and her clock work limbs had transpired... It was still putting her off balance. That much showed in her features and the expression of frustration at her own imperfection as her blow was turned aside and her own quick foot work brought her back a pace to buy breathing room to get a better evaluation of her opponent.

The momentary pause lengthened as Alessandro allowed his opponent a chance to recover her footing. He could only admire her skill even as the exchange had clearly gone in his favor. It quelled any hesitation he had about his plan for the Brawlers.

He crouched in his knife fighter's crouch, the exotic grace imparted by his near fanatical training in the Strife of the Bitter Rival evident in every movement. It was time. Moving with fierce speed he moved under his opponent's metallic guard with his stabbing practice knives. This time his opponent proved a tougher nut to crack.

6:39, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 12 using 1d20+3.  2nd reroll.

16:39, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  2nd Strike.

16:39, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  1st reroll.

16:38, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  1st strike.

Pretty sure i missed.

Chiara was still feeling out her opponent and it was showing. There wasn't quite the aggression one might expect of a brawler but an almost measured, surgical quality as she snapped out low suddenly with her leg after a quick spring forward. There was a deceptive amount of commitment but when she failed to find traction against Alessandro's own defenses and agility. She retreated again... but not so far back this time. Her estimations after that initial hit slowly dialing in as she had a greater sense of his striking power and ability.

A rapid series of cunning feints draw Chiara out of her defensive posture enough to strike a telling blow.

21:58, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 6 using 1d10+2.  2nd Damage.

21:58, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 6 using 1d10+2.  1st damage.

21:57, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 5 using 1d20+3.  2nd reroll.

21:57, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  2nd strike.

21:56, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 13 using 1d20+3.  1st reroll.

21:56, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  1st strike.

Each strike did 2 HD of damage if they hit.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:00, Fri 18 May 2018.

Another thud, another limp swept aside. It seemed she was still soundly off her game even as limbs built up speed and the impression of momentum showed through. She didn't seem panicked, however, to her credit... Just blunted and perhaps a fraction frustrated with the way things were playing out. The sudden speed, however, came as a surprise as two rapid punches met against Alessandro's fancy footwork. Almost catching him off guard but just a fraction too sluggish to actually put him on the back foot.

Alessandro has seen enough now and raises his weapons with a elated grin at the sharp contest,"Enough! I've seen enough!"

Panting slightly he nods,"You live up to your previous example. I'm impressed."

The Brawler bounced back lightly on her feet and began to look over the extent of her clock work limbs for a moment. An understandable gesture when one considered that unlike Alessandro's own... They would not simply heal with time if there was damage or defect.

"Your master's done well, I'll give him that but you've done a better job putting it to use." she added with a chuckle as she gently turned the gears in one arm with a steady click, click, click. She raised her right hand then and worked the fingers and seemed satisfied but to the perceptive eye there was still a slowness there.

"Thank you. I can say I've found reserves in myself of late that have greatly aided me in a trying time", responds Alessandro as he racks the practice weapons.

"But I think its time I come to the point of this evening." Alessandro turns to the Brawler as she checks her machinery. A sober expression replaces the excited duelist of earlier.

"As you have noted this training ground is rather large for a single son of nobility, at least one with any sense of modesty." Alessandro jokes before continuing on,"...thats because I had it built expressly to house a dueling master and their students. The place is fully furnished in the basic equipment."

"I am considering offering these grounds to you."

"Well that's the hook but may I ask the catch?" the Brawler asked with a canniness that was becoming of the woman as she finished her inspections of the self and relaxed into that easy posture once more. The mechanical limbs hanging at her sides with an unpleasant stillness that struck at odds against the natures and instincts of the flesh.

There was little point in wandering around the truth so Alessandro states bluntly,"I'm sure you asked around about my family and its fall from grace. I'm starting to turn that around but I'm running things with a barebones staff. A rising house will always need armsman to protect its people and interests and I'm hoping that you and some of your fellow Brawlers will see fit to be become da Vigo armsmen."

Alessandro paces about the exercise yard,"I'll pay well of course and return loyalty with loyalty. This facility will be available to your society of course but its useful as a means to see who is a good hire."

If you prefer not to join my house yourself that is entirely acceptable. I would just like your discretion and advice to those who would."

The brawler sniffed at the air, perhaps the only break in noble composure in the moment, as she considered that and glanced over the gym that had been set up. Her lips pressed into a smooth line in deliberation. She seemed one that preferred her freedom to whatever bonds of favours owed that played out between nobles.

"I'll take you up on it and pass the word along. We don't typically have big academies like the bladed schools, though... So don't expect a proper garrison out of me just yet. Bit more wits involved in beating a man with your fists than your blades." She offered with a moment's pause as she thumbed gently at the bare metal of one clock-work arm as if it would remove the scratch that seemed to have formed there.

Alessandro grants a short bow to the woman's decision,"I am delighted to here it. The training yard can  be accessed from the street entrance and you have the run of the lower gardens. We can work out details of payment for services at a more opportune time."

"You can contact me anytime. Leave a message with Leobardo if you can't contact me directly."

"I'll keep it in mind and try to keep it to a few of the more well heeled of them. A guard works best if people can respect their restraint as much as their ferocity. Or so father used to say." Chiara concluded with an amiable nature as she took in the sights around her and truly considered the nature of the arrangements. The thought was clear enough in her scarred features that she would have to step up the number of students she took under her wing else a lot of space was going to be wasted.

With a reminder to contact him if anything important comes up Alessandro leaves the handling of her new dojo to his staff for its more mundane aspects. With that out of the way Alessandro can now concentrate on the things he will need for his adventure into the wastes claimed by the Howlers.

[Alessandro uses Prophetic Insight to prophecy his Household, its people, and the new dojo and its students remain untroubled and prosperous during his absence (I understand that important NPCs or events can void this. Its just a bit of insurance).

Alessandro makes plans for the da Vigo estate to continue on its course, make arrangements with bankers and other necessary people, etc. Will make judicious use of Prophetic Insight to make sure things run smoothly.

Every day at sunset Alessandro will use the invocation Trumpet of Far Utterance
to contact Leobardo, or another if he is unable to be contacted, for reports and instructions on day to day operations that require his presence.

For the trip:
Camping gear, clothing, and other such goods for a month.
A substantial quantity of coin.
A number of texts dealing with Howler customs as well as the deep history of the area, including its ruined civilization.
Etc etc etc. ]

Prophecy was a tricky bit of work even for the godbound but all that Alessandro saw of his latest effort painted an encouraging picture even as he worked his sorcery to summon the loyal Leobardo to draw up a list of resources he'd need for the coming trip. A task the old stable master was well suited for so that by morning all was neatly arranged in saddle bags upon his loyal steed. The old horse nervously swishing at flies and stomping at the path as it waited for it's master to come and the adventure that was to come.