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Heard in Haven: December 1999
 Title: Announcement from the Heralds Hall Word spreads through the land with the speed that only one group can lend news -- that it is related to that group in the first place lends credence to the thought that the Heralds wish it known that their current leader has stepped aside, at least for a time. In his place will rise an Empyrean named Nicodemus to the mantle of Corypheus. Heralds announce the news to the people all along there normal routes -- within a week it will be hard to find someone who has not heard the news... even if they don't know what it means. Closely following upon this news, four Heralds are seen leaving the Herald Hall in Haven; one progresses to each race's embassy. Rumors fly about the Heralds and their renewed involvement in the events shaping life for all.  Title: FESTIVAL!!! Eric, First Provost of Haven, steps out into the Rialto. Shapers follow with him and raise him on a stone platform, much as the Estrella have done many times before. He uncaps a scroll case, unrolls it, and reads aloud. "People of Haven! Dark times are past, and as our city goes through a time of rebirth and rebuilding, reminders of the past remain. To help in the healing process needed after wars and such major events as we have seen, I am announcing a Harvest Festival. The Seneschal of Delphi has graciously extended the aid of his students in organizing and putting together this great Festival, but I would like to personally invite each and every citizen of Haven and visitor to Haven to open your hearts for the week of the Harvest Festival and participate in whatever way you can to the festivities. As the time for the Harvest Moon grows closer, more details of the wonderful events planned will be released. If you have any ideas or wishes, or need to contact me about participating, please send word to my office as soon as possible. As Haven has always been a place of diversity and a mingling of the races, this festival will highlight the cultures, customs and traditions all people, regardless of race. Thank you for your time, Good night." The platform is lowered and Eric strides back into the Citadel, followed by the shapers. Title: A Hound's Return The Sea's Breadth was recently seen in Haven's bay, despite being here a month earlier than expected. Word on the docks was that Captain Ipponis Keesa's ship had a run-in with the Leviathan before it came to Haven. After minor repairs were made, no cargo was unloaded and the ship was on her way again. Minus one crew member. Some of Haven's residents, especially those of Delphi and the Bastion, might remember the halfbreed woman that made her way from the docks towards the Hounds' Bastion. Amaris Caioma al'Shirfa had served with the Hounds for twelve years before leaving abruptly about four years ago. No one's exactly sure why she left (though there are a few rumors about a discontent over Cepheus Tritonides having been named Archon), and no one's sure why she's returned, but apparently the current Archon has taken her back on as a Reeve. Some comment on that being a demotion... After all, she had been a Commander before leaving. Title: Lost and Found Passersby in the Rialto might, amid discussions of the upcoming festival and recounts of the terrible earthquake and attack on Haven's harbor a few weeks past, hear the following rumor: "You know how one of the Aegians went missing 'round the time o' that big storm?" "Aye, well, who can keep track of 'em all, anyway? But I heard he and his wife -- or was it daughter? -- died in the 'quake?" "Nah, they weren't never found. 'Til now. 'Least, one of 'em was. Heard it from Haln, who was talkin' to Jak, who says ol' Daren an' his son found 'im. Way they tell it, he looked like he had a run-in with somethin' out in those woods, an' you know where they live..." "Well, no, not really, I don't." "Farmlands way up north -- near Apisachi territory." "Whew... so y' think those savages had somethin' t' do with it?" "Could be. They say his wife's still missin'. An' she's a Praefect in th' bloody Guard. I wonder if th' Hawks'll go huntin' some time soon...." "Aye, it'd be somethin' to watch. From a safe distance. Speakin' o' which, I wish they'd hold 'nother gladiator-bout. S'about time for some good entertainment..." And the talk meanders on to other subjects. Title: Apisachi in Haven! Run for Your Lives! "And in she stormed, her and her fifty warriors, brandishing a giant flaming sword!" Coughing indelicately, Guntra inelegantly butts into the conversation, "It weren't no sword. Sylvans ain't got swords. It were a puny little staff, it were. An' there weren't no one 'ceptin' herself." The story continues on, as though there was no interruption. Jalla declares, "She had a bag o' bones, she did, and threw it at that foofy Empy Hound that no one likes... Whasshisname?" A patient look accompanies Guntra's words, "Altair." "Altair! Right!" screeches the narrator joyously, digging into her tale. "That bird-brain got all on his high horse, making all sorts of wailings and commotion, blubbering about injustice and whining on and on!" For once, Guntra does not correct the lass. "Then he demanded that that beastly woman help him bury the bones, and d'you know what the Apisachi Sachem did then?! She up an' told him she would stake 'im and his wife out for the birds to suck their guts out while they watched, iffin' he so much as set foot in Sylvan soil!" An arched brow accompanies this wild story, Jalla's father unable to help from smiling. "That's nice," issues his slightly patronizing tone. "Now eat your peas like a good girl." Title: Kid-nappers? A pair of mongrel women stand gossiping by the fountain in the Rialto, splashing water on themselves in an effort to chase away the heat. They fail at the latter, but the former becomes quite involved as whispers are exchanged. "Did you see that tattooed Empyrean lady the other night? The Dyer they call Deianyra?" One woman asks of the other. "What? Something interesting happen? She didn't insult no Varati again, did she?" "Nay, I say she learned her lesson the last time!" The other titters before continuing. "She was over near that smithy, talking to that mongrel, Thenomain, and some girl-child." The other woman splashes more water on her arms and arches a brow. "What's so special about that?" Her fellow gossiper gives her a dirty look. "Ain't you never heard the rumors? They say those Cahr'Dhaki people are always stealing children. No one would choose to belong to their motley crew; they have to abduct children and raise them as their own. I bet that's what the Dyer was hoping to do." "But the Dyer seems like such a nice lady," the other protests. "Her clan are always courteous, and they're still doing good business. I heard they were staying until after this Festival the Provost was talking about goes on. They're making good money, I bet." The other woman hmphs, picking up her basket. "That may be, but I tell you, they're trouble-makers, the whole lot of them!" "So did the Dyer abduct that child?" "Well... no, but it's probably just cause she couldn't get close enough." With that, the mongrel woman turns and stalks off. Title: Two Left Hands Two left hands. That's what many a Behzad Clansmen has been wishing for since yesterday, ever since Sakhr put forward a new decree to maintain the purity of his Clan. With food supplies running low, no food being allowed to be bought in Haven and the food caravan from Vara Behzad still halfway down to Haven, it's not only the cooks and the wounded who suffer. No dish is to be prepared with the right hand. No food is to be eaten with the right hand. Not even a pot is to be stirred with the right hand. Unclean, impure, downright dirty, that right hand is proclaimed. The first victim can already be seen walking around. The mistress of the kitchens can now be seen wearing an iron glove, welded shut, around her right hand, serving as a role model, for all those who are even thinking of disobeying the Warlord's orders. Her screams may have died by now, but the food prepared in Clan Behzad tastes of salt, perhaps by her tears? And the Clansmen can only pray, wish for their Warlord to come to his senses and stop this lunatic waterfall of decrees. Will their suffering never end? Title: Most Recent Transgression A rather gruesome discovery was made in the garden maze within Haven. A male Sylvan, stripped of clothing, was discovered dead early Sunday morning. The unfortunate man, called Looks-Far, had the word 'KYKLOS' carved upon his chest. Aside from these shallow cuts, no wounds were upon the young man's body. The wailing of a young mongrel woman, rumored to have been the Sylvan's lover, can still be heard at the place where the Sylvan was discovered, as she holds a sad vigil within the maze. Title: Girlish Riff-raff in the Palladium? It has been whispered that two girls were chased away from the inner courtyard by a pair of Empyrean guards and two servants. One is rumored to be the missing Alcmena Augustin, the other is unknown. The odd thing is is that one of the servants who ran the girls off is said to be Domina Alcmena's personal servant who traveled with her from the far reaches of the Empyrean lands. Whomever they are, they are back on the streets Title: Varati Arrow Practice? Rumor has it that a young Empyrean woman was shot out of the sky above the Gem Inn by a Varati named Durman who'd had one to many. As the young woman fell from the sky, she was rescued from further injury by one Altair Chryseis, who also received an arrow wound for his trouble. The Varati was quickly taken by a group of Hounds, and the young woman was taken to the Palladium. Some say she refused Delphi's help. The young woman's name cannot be confirmed, but scuttlebutt says it was Domina Antoninus, younger sister of that infamous, all-too-frequent visitor to the Eyrie's or the Bastion's cells -- Ceterion Caius Antoninus. But, isn't there some kind of feud going on between said Ceterion and Reeve Chryseis? Oooowhee... the plot thickens. Whoever the Domina was, it was reported that she was none too warm to her rescuer, although she did insist that he be helped back to Delphi to have his own wound tended to, and it is certain that she will not be taking to the skies anytime soon. Title: Eyrie Gossip "I was there, Philip. I'm telling you, he made that Ceterion Antoninus whip the darkling. Ten lashes it were. She didn't cry. He stood right there and watched every last stroke of the whip." "He didn't. I've seen her and him together -- there's no way the Imperator would have had her whipped like that." A third voice of a Praetor, "It's true. The way I hear it, Caius was going to get flogged, but for some reason, the Imperator made him flog Optio Zorelle. I thought Caius was going to faint right there. But the Imperator, he didn't say one word. Not one. The first chimes back in, "I hear Caius is going to be in the stocks though, in the Rialto. For a week. All because he got in a fight with that Hound." "Which fight with which Hound?" "You know, the one who was guarding Khalid when the sea monster came. The female Chryseis Hound." "Oh, oh, right." And the voices fade away.... Title: Bordertown Whispers "C'or, did you hear? Ol' Riley's gone and packed his family up, left town." One mongrel merchant remarks to another as they share tankards of ale in a pub in Bordertown. "Really? Finally get caught with Bin's wife, did he?" The second nudges his companion and laughs. "Nah. One of his crates near an' crushed him in the earthquake. Said he's had enough of this city an' it's 'high folk.' Not to mention his warehouse took a beatin' in the storm." This provokes some interest; the others glance at one another. "So where's he going, then? And what about his business?" The first mongrel leans in and says with a gleam in his eye, "He's movin' it upriver, if you catch my drift. Got a good deal on some Empyrean's plot of land in Avalon, and he swapped it out for his warehouse here. He'll be tradin' Avalon Ale come next harvest, mark m' words." A small quiet falls as the men drink, "So who owns the place now?" The first gives his companions a look and says, "Some Empyrean woman. But first thing she done is to start huntin' carpenters and masons. I don't think she's intending to use it as a warehouse." That kills the conversation, and the men go about their business. Title: Stoic, Lonely Vigil It might be late September, but still, summer is lingering in Haven, and the days and nights are yet warm -- perhaps fortunately for the solitary figure keeping watch over Atesh-Gah's front gates from a vantage point across the street, apparently oblivious to the stern returned watchfulness of the Agni-Haidar. A pair of fetching Mongrel lasses, perky and vibrant lasses who work a tavern in the Varati quarter and who pass the gates of Atesh-Gah when they go to and from their place of employment, notice this solitary figure -- and are shocked. "Cor! Maggie, take a gander! Ain't that him? That silver-tongued bard who comes an' sings at the Pink Wyvern?" "Lyre Talespinner? No way! Look 'im over, Babs, that cannae be him!" "I'm tellin' ye, it is! Right height, right hair, that's 'is purty vest with the shell buttons too, an' no mistake! And look, look, 'e's got 'is lyre out, 'e does! Tell me now that ain't him!" "Knock me over an' tickle me blue. What's hit th' bloke? Looks like 'e's sick! Or ain't slept in a month o' Sundays! An' where'd 'e git that great big 'ound dog. Poor critter! Looks almost as mis'rable as 'e does!" "Some chit's got 'im wrapped around 'er finger, I'll be -- Maggie, dinnae ye dare! Ye cannae go over to 'im!" "Why not? I wanna 'ear 'im play, and I bet I can straighten out 'is poor 'ead soon enough!" "No! Damn ye, leave th' poor man be! Lookit 'is face, how 'e an' th' doggie, they're lookin' up at Atesh-Gah over there? It ain't th' likes of us 'e's missin', mark me words! Now c'mon, ye daft thing! Maybe 'e'll come round t' th' Wyvern an' play t'morrow, we can 'ear 'im then!" "Hmph. I bet I'm cuter'n' any stone-walker gel any day o' th' week an' I dinnae care what color veil she wears--" And off the pair of Mongrel lasses go, leaving the bard and his canine companion to their continued watch -- and leaving unsolved for now the mystery of who exactly they're waiting for outside the Varati gates. Title: Yet in Thy Dark Streets Shineth... "Mama, Mama, I'm home!" The Sylvan woman looks up from her kettle, waggling a finger. "Nayla, I told you to be here by sunset! Come stir this. Did you get the apron?" Nayla drops to the ground, bashfully folding her wings. "I did! But Mama--" "And the new dress? I never did see a worse hole than the one you burned in your last one!" "Yes, but Mama-" "Did he give you a good price for all that linen?" "Yes, but Mama, he's not there anymore! I mean, DogTooth's gone from the Ri'yalto; there's an Empyrean man in his stall now!" Green eyes cloud with fear. "Oh, Nayla... did he spit on you?" Nayla laughs, pulling a pointed ear. "No, Mama! He was very nice. His name is Thaelon, but he let me call him Lon, and he asked me funny questions, like how I'd like the world if there were no Empyreans, and what I would do with a hundred zechins, and if I'd ever read a book, and-- OW! Mama!" Fingers are withdrawn from the slap. "You aren't to go near him again, you hear me, Nayla? He just wants to make fun of you; that's all they ever do, those bird-brains. We'll buy our linen somewhere else. Now come stir like a good girl, and no more talk about this Thaelon." Similar stories fly through Bordertown and the market-place alike, some favorable, some not, but all of them agreeing that Thaelon Chryseis is a strange young man -- even for an Empyrean. Title: Fighting in the Park Word has it that there was some sort of fight in the city park late the other night. Some of those few people still out and about heard a woman screaming, and those who dared defying the darkness and made their way towards the sound to investigate, could catch glimpses of two shapes caught up in a struggle. At least most believe there were two; due to the duskiness of the late hour, things were not all that easy to make out. A good few hundred feet away was as close as anyone dared venturing; people have a tendency to feel a sudden urge to turn around and walk the other way once they realize there is some dark deed in the making. The next time someone finally entered this particular spot of the garden, the two fighters had since long disappeared. The only evidence to the struggle was the no small amount of silken feathers and down, sparkling a brilliant white, that were spread out over the emerald grass, joined by the darker sprinkling of blood that covered the ground here and there. Title: Behzad Chaos Once again, the notorious Varati Clan Behzad has made the rumor circuit. This time through, the whispers are of a recently-released Behzad shudra. Everyone knows of the odd events that have surrounded the Clan Hall of the Behzad. The refusal of outside help, the odd shower rituals, the cloying incense, the decree against the use of the right hands. All these strange and seemingly pointless events that have come about by the order of the Warlord in the time since the Earthquake. And, by rumor, events culminated to a profoundly disturbing event that occurred on the morning of October 16 within the Great Behzad Hall itself. By order of Warlord Sakhr, all the women within the Hall were gathered together to be 'purified' in a ritual circumcision. The Nayaka of the Clan, the well-known "Black Panther" of Behzad, Numair, is said to have ordered the stop of such horrible practices, and upon the Warlord's refusal, gathered the troops loyal unto the Nayaka and attacked the few loyal guards of the Warlord's. Chaos quickly erupted as the group of women gathered together suddenly took flight, spurred by the courage of two, as yet, unidentified women. The situation eventually came to the Nayaka and the Warlord facing off in combat, at which time the Nayaka dealt a horrible wound the face of the insane Warlord, who, by accounts, had been distracted by the sudden odd appearence of the former flower of Behzad, Hepzibah, the Amir-al's concubine. Sakhr unfortunately escaped, having been dragged away by the few still-living guards, but with his departure, the pains of the Clan Behzad seem to have eased off slightly. Already, the new Warlord of the Clan has had a meeting with representatives of Clan Khalida to ask for succor and help to heal the wounds dealt to the Clan by its mad Warlord. Even as these rumors spread, food, medicines, and workmen have come to help the struggling clan, and things seem to be on the uptake for them all, despite the tragedy of losing a previously great leader. Title: Proclamation from the Maharani Only a few hours after the incidents at Clan Behzad had entered the rumor mills of Haven, an official proclamation was issued from the Queen-Maharani via her Public Relations secretary: Clan Behzad, the Queen-Maharani extends her personal services to the clan in their time of need. Any woman who should desire the succor of the Queen and Clan Khalida, may come to stay at Atesh-Gah as the guest of the People. The personal resources of Clan Khalida are also available to the women of Clan Behzad in this time of change. In addition, any woman of Clan Behzad may speak with the Queen-Maharani and a visit is planned to the Clan Behzad Hall in the near future. While the proclamation was specifically for the Varati people, its words were not hidden
from the People of Haven and rumors fly that Thalia has chosen to take a more direct hand in the
welfare of the Varati than her previous actions have suggested.
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