Title: Varati Queen Terrorizes Haven
Author: Thalia
Date: January 2, 2000

The Queen-Maharani of the Varati has been seen moving about Haven in the recent week and causing near heart attacks in the citizenry. In truth, it is not the Queen, but the small army of Agni-Haidar and Atarvani that go everywhere with her. Complaints from the citizenry stem from all areas as Thalia was seen down at the beach conversing with Reeve Altair, within the Palladium conversing with Deus Cassius Augustin, and at the Behzad Clan Hall conversing with Nayaka Numair.

"I tell ya, them guards take up too much air. Don't leave none for the normal people," said one bystander after the Queen passed through the Rialto.

"Eh, them's too many. Shouldn't be allowed in the streets with that jumped-up hussy," said another bystander who appeared to have suffered a fall after coming too close to one of the Agni-Haidar guarding Thalia.

Title: Thwarted Good Intentions
Author: Faanshi
Date: January 5, 2000

A dainty little pout upon her dainty little mouth, acute displeasure flashing in her dainty little eyes, the cyprian named Flori stomps sulkily back inside to rejoin her sisters within the establishment called the Pink Wyvern. "Where IS he?" cries one of them, a lass named Nala. "I thought you said the bard fell over again?"

"Yes, yes," squeals Maggie, "let's get th' poor man in here, we gotta look after 'im, after all!"

"The man's got the lung sickness, what're ye thinkin' leavin' 'im in the street?!" is the cry of Babs.

Disconsolate, Flori heaves her delectable shoulders, dismay brimming over in her lovely eyes. "I CAAAAAN'T!" she wails. "He's GOOOONE!"

This news is met with great woe by the ladies of the Pink Wyvern, who flock to the front door en masse to try to peer outside for some sign of Lyre Talespinner. Their cries sound like a flock of pigeons as they exclaim to one another in distress -- for indeed, the poor sick man they've been trying to attend over the last few days (and, as the gods are their witnesses, their benevolence is simply born of charity and has absolutely nothing to do with the man's rugged features, his deep resonant voice, or his lovely chest, nope, nuh uh, no way) and who has, in fact, just staggered out the door has vanished! "That big doggie's gone too?" sniffles Nala.

"And took off with my BELLS!" Flori stamps a dainty little foot in her continued mourning. "Lyre fell over, 'e did, right into this stonewalker gel's arms! And she carried him off, and took the doggie too!"

Her sisters are duly sympathetic.

"Awww! And Kosha looked so cute with the bells and bows, too!"

"Maybe we c'n find 'im? Awww, we'll buy you more bells, Flori!"

Flori sniffles mightily, then scrubs a dainty little hand across her eyes and proclaims, "I got me a better idea. Think we can find another sick 'un?"

This idea swiftly turns dismay into delight. Maybe they have lost Lyre Talespinner out of their clutches for now... but who knows? Maybe they'll get lucky again!

Title: Splish Splash
Author: Raijin
Date: January 6, 2000

The Pantheon was apparently a site of some interest the other evening when it was 'attacked' by an untrained Elementalist. Damage was non-existent, for also present that evening was the High Priestess of Pasiphae, Okalani, and the Seneschal of Delphi, Raijin. The untrained Atlantean woman was taken into the Seneschal's custody after she had inadvertently caused the water in the fountains to begin spraying wildly out of control.

Although no one had been hurt and the water had soon been cleaned, several folks were heard muttering darkly about that Tower full of mages. It's not safe. What if there was another outburst like there had been some months ago when they all went insane?

Title: Overheard on Patrol...
Author: Gossiping Hounds
Date: January 6, 2000

"Jaihyn? The Varati with the brand on his forehead, yah?"

"Yah, that's the one. He's gone. And nobody knows where or why. Nobody, I checked. And--"

The first voice turns mocking. "And old Hakeem told you it was because of that Varati witch that was there? An 'evil curse' made him vanish?" An incredulous snort.

A quiet clank, of gloved hand poking an armored shoulder. "You didn't see Hakeem's reaction. When I told him about the witch that was there at the Pantheon before Jaihyn vanished, he got down right there in the mess hall and prayed for protection from sha... shakins, he said. Evil spirits. Right there, everyone staring, he didn't care."

The first voice snorts again. "It wasn't a curse. C'mon. Think for a minute. It couldn't have--"

The steady cadence of footsteps slows to a halt. "He's gone. Missed duty. Didn't report in. Gone. You talk to Hakeem, you'll see."

"Feh. Bloody superstitious Varati. He'd have you sprinkling salt around your bunk for good luck if you listen to him."

A sigh, and the sound of a helmeted head shaking. "Fine, man. You think what you want. I think something happened to him." The footsteps speed up again, and fade to silence down the street.

Title: Overheard Throughout Haven
Author: Sojourn
Date: January 8, 2000

"...hear about that mongrel girl?..."

"...tried to buy food?..."

"...paid double..."

"...man wouldn't sell..."

"...thought that Hound was gonna lock her up, too..."

"....would'a deserved it..."

"...mongrels always cause trouble..."

"...right to eat..."

"....rubbish for the rats..."

Title: Mess In The Rialto
Author: Sojourn
Date: January 8, 2000

Overheard of two Empyrean women talking in the Rialto:

"Did ye hear about that mess here? The one with the fruit?" the first woman says.

"Heard it was some kind of riot!" the second woman exclaims.

"Riot?! I had no know idea! I knew it was a mess afterwards, but a riot ye say?!"

A young Empyrean boy, overhearing to two women, begins talking to them, "No, dominae, no. There was no riot! Some nice man was trying to entertain us with some juggling fruits! I was there, I saw the whole thing!"

Upon hearing of an eyewitness, even if it was just a boy, the two women turn to him, and crouch down and begin soaking the poor lad with questions, once they calm themselves, they get the boy to tell the story in detail.

"Well, it's like I said, dominae, some man, he was a mongrel, he was juggling for the kids, and well, anyone that wanted to watch. I don't think he was too good though, he ended up dropping all his fruits. That's kinda what started the whole thing."

"All what thing?" the first woman asks, almost pleadingly.

"Speak up boy, tell us what happened!" the second woman snaps.

The boy looks confused, as though he were talking to two complete imbeciles. He blinks several times, and continues his story, "Well, it's when the food fight started, dominae."

At this, both women blink in surprise, and say at almost the same time, "Food fight?!?"

The boy, now more confused by the women's ignorance than before, continues on nonetheless, "Aye, was a food fight caused the mess here. The big man, he started playing with us children. Throwing fruit at us and laughing and playing, it was great fun!" the boy now wears a bright smile, remembering the fun he had pelting the man with his own fruit.

The second woman breaks in at this, "What about the Hounds, I had heard there were no less than a dozen Hounds!"

The boy looks shocked at this. "No, dominae, there was only one Hound, well, until the end there, after that the Empyrean joined the Varati, but at first it was just the Varati, he was roughing the mongrels something awful, there were two of them now. The big man, and some woman. The Varati was pushing them about something fierce. Then he broke into the stall, just barged right into it. The lady running the stall told him not to, but he said something about suspicious actions, and forced his way in like he owned it or something."

The boy shrugs at this, "I didn't get what he meant about suspicious, he was talking about a shirt or something, but it's a tailor's stall, don't they always have shirts?" The boy shrugs again, then continues, "The man kept saying something about Varati assaulting mongrels, and breaking into Empyrean stalls, I guess some Empyrean owned the stall. Anyway, after a little while, the Varati Hound said he was taking the man off to the cell, but the Empyrean went with them. A little while later, the mongrel man and woman came back out with the Empyrean. I guess he let them go, because once it was all cleaned up, they went on having fun, and he didn't bother them again."

"Strange, a Varati Hound assulting two mongrels, and breaking into a tailor's stall because of a shirt?" The first woman ponders out loud to herself.

Title: Dark Clouds...
Author: Onaelian
Date: January 8, 2000

"Sleeker beauty I ne'er did see." This is mumbled from the lips of a bronze-skinned woman of middling years, falling on the mostly-deaf ears of one of the Siren Song's bouncers, Nanga. "Coal black, strong as tha' Varati man I seen 'ere earlier -- Stephane? -- with a main mast s'tall ye couldnae see it wi'out tiltin' yer 'ead way back."

Nanga grunts again as Vanyella puts a full tankard of Onaelian's drink in front of her.

"An' out o'er belly came this man -- skin so black as tae perfe'tly match 'is vessel. Make no mistake, twas 'is as sure as th' Maiden is m'own." Wrapping heavily callused hands around the tankard, the seafaring mongrel smirks. "I think this'll be m'last, Vanyella." This comment goes over well, Vanyella's eyes rolling in her head. She's heard that before.

"Strode down th' plank, every eye at th' docks on him. There must o' been nearly a hundred people there, not counting my men." Curiously, as it often happens when the Captain has drunk too much, her accent slips, replaced by a far more cultured tone than any of her stature should have. "He spoke to them then, calling to the 'Oracle' who looked to be no more than a girl. She in turn called him Orcinus Kur--Kuronbo."

This elicits reaction from Nanga. Slowly, he turns, approaching the drunken Captain. "You say 'is name was Kuronbo? Sure o' that?"

To this, Onaelian nods. "Said many times, on many lips. There was talk of asylum, which the Oracle could not grant him, asylum for himself and his daughter. I looked -- a babe held tight to the chest of a mongrel woman like myself, brown hair, eyes and skin. Like a Sylvan without the ears." Here, she pauses, lifting the drink to salt-chapped lips. "All gathered looked to the woman, looked to the child. It was eerie, let me tell you. Like this was a play and everyone waited for the appropriate signal."

Nanga nods, looking awfully consternated. "Then what happened?" he asks, easing his bulk of muscles over the bar, looming above the tall mongrel.

"After the woman and her child disppeared into the bowels of Kuronbo's great black beast, he left. To the Delphic Tower I've heard so much about, I presume. With him were the Oracle, along with a number of fellas dressed in black an' indigo an' 'er escort, as well as a few others 'oo mighta been fish-folk." Gone is the flowing silk of her words, replaced by the time-harshed tones that usually fill the inn. By this time, several of the patrons nearby have ceased their conversation, listening intently to Onaelian's words. "I 'ear 'e is called th' Dark Atlantean..."

And a hush falls over the room.

"I assume this is bad," states the Captain.

Title: Muttering Mongrel?
Author: Jankayla
Date: January 8, 2000

"Have you seen that mongrel man? He is always about the Rialto... muttering and mumbling like some senile old goat."

"Ah the one always stirring up trouble and acting all righteous?"

"Yah... seen him with another mongrel lately, too... a young girl. She has been following in his footsteps, it seems."

"I don't know. He hasn't done anything too outrageous, but those mongrels are nothing but trouble... always thinking they have to set us straight when we are the ones in the right."

"Indeed, it's true. I don't trust him at all. I, for one, will avoid him. I think you should, too."

"I stay away from all mongrels. If they can even be trusted... then you have to worry about mites and lice, and just getting dirty in general."

"Too true. I think I will tell the Hounds to keep an eye on him... before he stirs up something horrible!"

Title: Blood in the Cella...
Author: Lilith
Date: January 10, 2000

A group of servants are gossiping in the Atrium:

Servant1: I tell you, I've never seen so much blood in my life!

Servant2: That poor girl. Good thing that healer showed up or she would have been a goner for sure!

Servant3: (who has just joined the conversation) Blood? Girl? Healer? Huh?

Servant1: Oh, Lissi, you are such a dope! One of the Augustin servants... what was her name... Lilith, I think, decided to spill all her blood on the floor of the Cella. And we had to clean it up!

Servant2: Ooh, I shudder just remembering it! I didn't know one person could bleed like that.

Servant3: Is she dead?

Servant2: Naah, some healer was there. She looked kinda familiar, though.

Servant1: Duh, she was the one who was always helping Dea Augustin. There was a Hound, too. She took the poor girl out of the Cella so we could clean.

Servant3: Oh, her! That was nothing compared to what went on in the garden! So much yelling! The healer was there, and the girl... and then Domina Augustin... the one married to the Deus' brother. Ummm... Ilyane Augustin. She showed up and then the Deus was yelling and marching about. I don't think I've ever heard so much yelling in one place!

Servants1&2: Well? What were they saying?

Servant3: (who isn't too big on brains, shrugs) I dunno... but then the girl, she took this bloody knife... hey, I'll bet that was the one she tried to slit her wrists with! Anyway, she jammed it into a tree and walked off with the healer. I wasn't about to touch that knife.

Servant1: Oh, Lissi, why don't you use your brain for once?

The chatter then turns to teasing Lissi, the event forgotten.

Title: When the Dolphin Scolds
Author: Uneri
Date: January 18, 2000

The stars in the pre-dawn sky slowly dissolve from sight. Pale light gathers at the horizon and in one continuous flow, moves forth to chase the darkness away. Dwarfed by the immensity of the sea and sky, a tiny, battered boat makes it way across the void.

There are two in the boat. The younger one steadies himself against the single mast, adjusting the weather-worn sail. The older man occupies himself at the back of the boat, examining the oft-repaired net. As the cool, clear color of the dawn's light falls across the two, they become more visible.

The old man's beard and hair are unkempt and the same gray color as that of his net and boat. The younger man's hair and beard is as unkempt as his father's, but the color is more rich, the color of brown bark before weather has a chance to bleach its color away. The two have no identifying racial features, their blandness marking them as mere mongrels. The younger man sinks down beside his father. Together, they drop the net out behind the boat. The boat continues in its controlled drift. They wait.

Three dolphins suddenly break the surface of the water beside the boat. One of the dolphins is especially bold. Surging up beside the boat, it seems as if it is trying to peer at the two men inside. With wary eyes, the two watch the sea creature.

Some say that dolphins laugh. This one doesn't sound like it is laughing. It sounds as if it is scolding. Finished with its burst of sound, the one sinks back into the water and rejoins the other two. Now the three dolphins content themselves with cavorting about the small water-craft. This time, they keep their distance -- perhaps the distance just beyond a harpoon's throw. Every now and then, their comments punctuate the lulling sound of the morning's sea sounds.

Light swells within the sky. The soft glow of morning casts a blinding sheen of white light across the low-capped waves. Apparently, this signals the men that it is time to pull in the net. Together, they bend over the side of the boat and gather it in. It is empty. The old man glares at the dolphins. After the trailing end of the wet net is dropped on the bottom of the boat, he leans over and spits into the water.

He says, "Cursed creatures."

The younger man makes some sort of warding gesture with his hand. He says, "It's bad luck." Glancing at the sky, the younger man rises to go adjust the sail again.

The father grunts, "No fish."

The younger has no answer to that. They both know the winter is coming and food is getting more scarce to come by. They will have to make do.

They will have to make do.

Title: Maharani at the Bastion
Author: Thalia
Date: January 18, 2000

The citizens of Haven were once again terrorized by the small army belonging to Thalia Jovia Tritonides Khalida when the Queen of the Varati ventured out through the streets and into the Bastion of the Hounds. She left most of her guards outside while she ensconced herself with Archon Dohosan. Afterwards, the Maharani did not leave, but, in a shocking display of rudeness, blocked the gates of the Bastion by pausing to speak with Reeve Altair.

"Eh, you'd think she'd at least have the decency to ride in a carrying contraption instead of walking around on her own two feet," said an Empyrean who was trapped against a wall by the passing of the Agni-Haidar. "Snarls up traffic. A person can't even pass by her bully boys."

Title: In the Tavern, part 1
Author: Uneri
Date: January 18, 2000

The white winter sun is still visible on the horizon when the old man ducks into the tavern. Even so, he isn't the first one in the place. Already gathered at the table near the fireplace are several of his cronies. They raise their mugs and greet, "Hey, Nerec, thought you'd never make it!"

Nerec shuffles his way over to them and sinks down onto his seat. He mutters, "Yeah, yeah, ol' woman had something for me." The other voices rumble in sympathy. The serving wench wanders over to give him his own mug of ale. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a lint-covered coin. The baby might whine for milk, but there is always money for ale.

Nerac thirstily chugs down the first of many mugs. Looking around for the wench, he grunts, "Went fishing this morning."

The bass voices of the other old men chorus back, "Aye, aye." Nerec is a fisherman -- fishing is what fishermen do.

As the wench refills his mug, Nerec says, "Didn't catch nuthing."

Another fisherman says, "'Course you didn't. Too late in the season."

Nerec scowls, "Wasn't that. Cursed dolphins chased them away."

That catches the others' attention. There is a round of responses:

"You shouldn't say that."

"Yeah, bad luck."

"Aren't dolphins something to those Atlanteans?"

"Nah, their goddess."

Nerec continues to scowl. "Don't care. That was a good place for fish. It was all those dolphins' fault. They made the fish vanish!"

The other fisherman is as stubborn as Nerec in his opinion, "Told you, Nerec, there ain't no fish this late in the season."

One of the old men quips, "Wish my wife would vanish. Did I tell you what she did with the beans? You ever hear of someone that can't even cook beans? Burnt, I tell you, burnt!" The others laugh, even though they have heard his complaint a thousand times

Title: In the Tavern, part 2
Author: Uneri
Date: January 18, 2000

When another thumps his mug down and smirks, they all expectedly look in his direction. He asks, "You ever tasted an Atlantean?" Now that catches their attention.

Someone says, "Nah, how was she?"

That question is all the old man needs to launch into a lengthy bawdy tale. Who cares if it is true or not? This tale-teller can always be relied on for a funny story.

And so the evening goes. Drink after drink, mixed in with gossip and tales.

When Milos, the tavern-keeper calls time, one by one, the old men push themselves up from the table and stumble out into the cold night. All except for a few die-hards who are face-down on the tables. Nerec is among these. Milos walks over to shake Nerac's shoulder. But the man is out cold. He impatiently calls to a skinny boy helping some of the serving wenches clean up the place. "Yorie, go get Laimos (his son)!"

It only takes a few minutes for the boy to return with a half-asleep young man. With a well-practiced movement, Laimos bends down to push a shoulder under his father's arm. He mumbles, "Come on, Father, time to be going home."

Nerec wakes up a little now and mutters something incoherent. Laimos gets him upright and together they stumble out of the tavern. The night is cold under the blackness of the night above.

Title: Messala Caravan in Town!
Author: Vasuki
Date: January 19, 2000

"Did you hear? A caravan from Messala arrived last night. They paraded through the gate and on toward Atesh-Gah, where I hear the Queen herself greeted 'em."

"Mm," another gossiper acknowledges. "I was there. It was the Qadi from--"

"The who?"

"Qadi. The little bald fellow? He's an aide or something -- one of those types who likes to act more important than he is. Anyway, he came clear down from Messala along with that whole caravan, and they presented the Queen with a whole array of gifts. You should'a seen -- jewels and silks and weaponry; Messala's famed for that, you know."

"No, I didn't."

"Well, you do now. That Clan's so rich it can afford to give away its luxuries. The Qadi even gave the Queen one of their concubines."

"Really? What would she want with a concubine?"

"'Least, I think it was. And who knows? There's no understanding those Empyreans..."

"You're right, there. Say, let's go spend a few kakini on raki and smoke some kusha in our hookah pipes and watch some kirtana dancers."

"Sounds good to me."

Title: Crazy about Mongrels
Author: Mele
Date: January 19, 2000

Her name is Organil Mele and though she's just recently arrived, her name is spreading in the streets of Haven. The rumors say that this Atlantean woman is walking the streets, talking friendly and politely to everyone she meets -- even mongrels and halfbreeds. In fact, she is nicer to those impure ones. She offers them food, advice and a friendly talk.

If anyone talks poorly about mongrels (or halfbreeds) Mele defends them, saying that nobody chooses their own parents. It is said that Mele is so crazy about those impure people because she has given birth to two halfbreeds herself... Yuck!

Title: Whispers and Announcements
Author: Kalypso
Date: January 20, 2000

It started innocuously enough. A brief infatuation -- after all, he is one of the most eligible bachelors in the Empyre. And she -- well -- hadn't she sworn off marriage? Who knew it would go so far?

Word quietly spreads from the Palladium, whispers of an upcoming wedding between two who are so opposite, that it doesn't quite seem real. But if the invitations spread about are anything to judge by, then it would appear that the rumours are true. The Princeps and the Matriarch will marry.

Let it not be said that this is your everyday wedding. It's said the pair are marrying in haste, since most just found out about their betrothal days before the announcements were made. But now official word, spread from criers and heralds alike.

The wedding of Leonidas Severinus Thanatos, Princeps of the Empyre, and Kalypso Deukalia Tritonis, Matriarch of House Tritonis, is to take place in the even'tide of Monday, December 6th in the year 3905. The ceremony shall take place in Civitas Dei, reception to follow. Any who wish to attend are welcome.

Title: Whispering Servants...
Author: Kalypso
Date: January 21, 2000

"She good as called 'im a monster, she did." Aida's voice is hushed as she speaks with her dear friend Kysia. "Said 'e was in'umane. Can y'e'en believe it?" The soft sound of footsteps causes the servant to fall silent for a moment, a finger raised to her lips as she gets up from her spot by the rinsing tub, moving to peek around the corner and down the hall. She comes back after just a brief look, a short lift of her shoulders as she leans back down to wring out the soaking wraps.

"So w'at 'appened after t'at, t'en?" Kysia's voice is just as low, as she continues to push the wash over the board in front of her. But she's not even half-paying attention to the task at hand.

"The big oaf up 'n said that maybe they weren't a good match after all. And 'e started to'ards t'e door." A soft snort from the small, dark woman, as she drops the sheet back into the sudsy water. "Can 'ardly b'lieve they e'er thought they got toge'er at all, I mean, really, Kys. Them two?"

Kysia's eyes are rounded, as her hands stop their task as well. "So what'd the Dea do then, eh, Aida? She set 'im straight, aye?"

Aida's head shakes solemnly, a heavy sigh from the woman. "Not a word, di' she say. Jus' watched 'im walk out, and ran back into them rooms o'ers." She leans forward, sticking both hands in the foam and fishing out another sheet.

Kysia starts scrubbing once again, perplexed look on her face. "Didn't she jus' send out t'em fancy invites? Seems s'picious t'me, gettin' 'itched as fas' as they was. I've 'eard that t'ere's a l'il reason they've 'ad to 'urry." Kysia's eyebrows waggle up and down, the same motion she's making on the washboard.

"Oh, now shush, you." Aida's voice is only slightly reproving, before another backwards glance makes sure nobody's listening at the door of what laundry room. "Y'done know that Dea Kaly won't ne'er let anyone in 'er bed save t'at guard o'ers." Another snort, as her hands strangle the water out of the sheets in her hands.

Kysia snorts at the same time as Aida, before asking: "Who wins, t'en? I didn't t'ink they'd e'en make it this close to t'e date." A soft grumble from the younger servant, before she continues, "I mean... s'just a week from now, isn't it?"

Aida's brow knits, as her shoulders lift. "I t'ink 'twas that Thanatos one... should get a purty meal ou' o' t'at purse, hnn?" Another sound coming from the hallway causes the pair to fall silent once more, as the diminuitive one knows as Dove passes outside. The little Empyrean's shuffling feet and sniffling nose linger, even after he's passed by, and then Aida talks once again. "I t'ink 'e's takin' it 'arder than t'Dea. Imagine all 'is 'ard work, and now they've called off the weddin'."

Kysia's head nods solemnly, a soft sigh as she falls silent. The pair continue their work in an eerie silence, only the sound of the scrubbing against the board and the water falling from the wrung sheets to break the monotony of silence that reigns supreme in House Tritonis.

Title: Is That What You Heard?
Author: Leonidas
Date: January 21, 2000

Rumor spreads quickly, especially in a place as enclosed as the Palladium. It's no wonder that Atreus, known as the principle manservant of the Deus of House Thanatos and the Princeps of the Empyre, was accosted as he crossed the gardens, laden with an arm-load of scrolls, by half a dozen curious servants.

"The wedding is off," he confirms. "Just as well. She actually wanted him to give up his slaves. More than that, she insisted on calling Tritonis 'her' House. As if having the Princeps under her eaves wouldn't do Tritonis more good than harm."

"And," he added, shifting his armload to keep the top-most scroll from toppling off, "she called him inhumane. The Princeps has his faults; we all do. But inhumane? Ask anyone who serves Thanatos whether they're poorly treated, and you'll get the same answer from all of us. We have nothing to complain about, least of all the Deus."

"I'm not one to stand in the Princeps' way, but I've never been afraid to speak my mind with him. Let Tritonis have its equals and free its slaves. If their Dea wants to run her House into the ground, let it. It's not as if Tritonis has a spotless reputation, after all. A Tritonides married that Varati monster, and did it willingly, from all I've heard. And you all know about that darkling, no matter what color her wings might be now. Thanatos can do better than Tritonis blood. Thanatos will do better."

"As for taking it badly, think again. The way I heard it, it was Dea Tritonides who stomped off and slammed her door. The Princeps just came home and went right back to work. He's taking his meals in his quarters, but the Princeps is a busy man. He's taking it well."

Title: And the Saga Continues...
Author: Kalypso
Date: January 25, 2000

"Oh lordy, child. You shoulda seen 'im, came crawling back, jus' like I said 'e would." Aida's at it once again -- leaning over the rinsing tub, up to her elbows in sudsy water as she fishes for the brief togas that clothe the House Guard.

Kysia's there as well, leaning against her washing board. "Who'dat, Aida?" The early morning hour has found the two Tritonides servants gossiping once again, or at least -- one's gossiping. The other's just hearing about it.

"The Princeps 'imself. Leonidas T'anatos. 'E insisted 'e speak with Dea Kaly. Near pushed poor Dove right o'er." Kysia's eyes round at this interesting revelation, as she stops her work, leaning forward to hear more. And Aida's more than willing to oblige. She leans back on her heels, taking her hands out of the water for a few minutes and crossing her arms in front of her. "T'ey wen' into 'er rooms, and talked, I think. Couldn't 'ear much through tha' door, but 't seems t'at they've settled t'eir diff'rences." A backwards glance, to make sure nobody's at the door, before she turns back to Kysia, her voice lowered conspiratorially. "S'e went tae bathe, an' if y'ask me she needed it. 'e stayed in 'er rooms until she returned, and later after. Still there now, I do b'lieve."

Kysia drops the toga she was washing, leaning her elbows on the edge of the bed. Her voice is practically a squeal, "'e stayed all night?" At Aida's answering nod, and shushing motion, Kysia's head can only shake, a soft laugh from the woman. "Then whate'er they've said musta worked, eh? 'as the weddin' date been reset, t'en?"

Aida's head shakes in reply, as she returns to wringing out the skimpy pieces of cloth. "Naeyet. Dove says t'ey're still workin' a few things out, yet."

Kysia hrmphs softly, as she digs down in the sudsy water to grab another toga. She opens her mouth to say something else, but then another servant arrives with another basket full of dirty laundry. Sheets, most likely.

Title: In Sickness and in Health
Author: Altair
Date: January 26, 2000

A couple Chryseis servants chat quietly in a hallway...

Jamie: Hey, did you hear the news, Beth?

Beth: News? What news? Someone holdin' out gossip on me?

Jamie: The news about Lady Andromache! She's gone ill, I tell ya!

Beth: What what?? Tell me more!

Jamie: Saw them two goons from Delphi, in the white healer robes? They walks out of her room and talks to that Reeve. Solemn as if they were in the Cella of the Gods themselves! They say somethin' 'bout lotsa bed rest, no stress, and that poor man he look near as white as his wings, I dare say! He went in after the talkin', to see her. Never seen a man so upset before!

Beth: By the Gods... Lady Andi ill? And this close to the birthing day? It's a bad omen!

Jamie: I just hope she turns out all right! What'll happen to the family if that Reeve Altair is left to care for the youngun's?

Beth: The Gods only know...

Title: Th' Chillin'!
Author: Cepheus
Date: January 29, 2000

"He's got kids, Melinda... I swear I saw them."

"The ol' Archon, Ceefeus? Of course he does... a wife too!"

"Liar... I've been here fo' months and I ain't see him..."

"That's cause she left him, you fool... a while ago. Took the kids with her."

A pause. "Oh... well... he's winged, so he deserves it."

*laugh* "Yeah, that's another matter...."

Sure enough, Cepheus' children were seen disembarking from a chariot outside of the Palladium, their mother clearly absent. Medea Althea Tritonides has not been seen in Haven for many months, her departure likely to follow some sort of falling-out between her and Cepheus. Still, his children have returned, perhaps leaving only more questions.

Title: A Tense Moment
Author: Sunil
Date: January 30, 2000

Last night in the Rialto, there was a bit of a commotion. Nothing big, really, but some there were convinced that a brawl was narrowly avoided.

"Them cursed Varati. If'n they're not puffin' our their chests, they're poundin' people's heads. Dangerous folk, I say."

"'Member that Faisal guy?"

"Yeah. Wasn't so bad as that, though. This one Varati in a robe got all huffy 'bout another Varati who was actin' chummy with mongrels and flirtin' with an Empy. You b'lieve that? A Varati an' an Empy?"

"If'n it's good enough fer their God King..."

"Mebbe so. But these two looked about to come to blows over it."

"But nuthin' happened?"

"Nah. Lots o' chest puffin', but no action. Went their separate ways after."

Title: Punishment of a Varati
Author: Dohosan
Date: January 31, 2000

Many gathered around to be witness to the punishment of the Varati, Durman. The evidence was presented to those that asked: that Durman was seen by many to emerge from the Gem Inn, intoxicated, and in his state take up his crossbow and attempt murder on Belona Antoninus, and injury upon the Reeve Chryseis as he went to Domina Antoninus' aid. In punishment, the Varati, Durman, was sentanced to ten lashes, public branding with the inverted star of Delphi's displeasure, and a month's service in the shape of a donkey for the Empyreans.

The punishments were carried out in the Bastion's courtyard, the lashes delivered evenly and without rancor. A Healer of some note placed the brand on his forehead and a Shifter placed the form on him. From there, the donkey was lead to the Empyrean quarter, to serve out his sentence, at the end of which he is to be returned to the Varati for any punishment they see fit to place on their own subject.

Title: Wayward Naraki Reclaimed
Author: Maat
Date: January 31, 2000

The peace of the Rialto was broken by the strident voice of Nefer Maat, former Shakir of Al'Samar, this afternoon. The cause of the ruckus appeared to be a small mongrel girl whom Nefer Maat claimed was the escaped slave of her third daughter. The mongrel girl, who tried to evade capture, was easily trapped by Kaimakam Amipal Chandrima.

"Carried her by her ankle like she was a chicken," said one of the bystanders.

"Nice muscles," giggled a Varati women who was watching.

Much to the disappointment of the crowd, while Nefer Maat attempted to have twenty lashes administered to the mongrel, who called herself Melete, she was stopped by the arrival of Hounds.

"Indeedy, public flogging is a joy reserved for Hounds," was the snide comment of a mongrel man who had paused to watch the spectacle. "We was cheated out of some good entertainment."

"Aye, they was selling whips two stalls over." The commentator was indignant at the injustice. "But, no, that Agni-Haidar tied up the girl like she was a dog and that Al'Samar woman took her away."

Screams, not uncommon in Atesh-Gah, were heard from the courtyard a short while later. Passersby stopped to watch the twenty lashes being administered to the sobbing mongrel girl by a man of Clan Al'Samar.

Title: Sylvans Escape the Espers
Author: Gossip
Date: January 31, 2000

Two Espers sit in the Hounds' mess-room, conversing.

"That's the second Sylvan mage I've lost this month. I swear there has to be someone shielding them. Ran off ahead of us, that young earth-elemental did, darting between the crowds. We lost him at that crossroads near Bordertown. The trail just died."

"I've lost a few at one crossroads in particular. The one with that Sylvan jeweler's place? Something Forge -- Fragrant or Famished or something."

"Foxes? Yeah, that's the one. He sells weapons as well, you know? Someone's been flashing one of his rapiers about here, showing off. Nice piece."

"He's supposed to be a big man in the Sylvan community here, in more than one sense, that jeweler. He's often connected with rumours of that underground tribe."

"Supposed tribe, you mean. Never seen any sign that they really exist."

"He's got a lot of information he couldn't possibly have. And sometimes he even shares it. We've caught a few murderers and rapists with his help, even if he doesn't know about thiefs and pickpockets."

"You're seeing tribes, federations and secret societies under every stone again, Jaxil. There isn't a tribe. How could there be? This place is a hideous abomination to the Sylvan religion, and that's what holds the tribes together. Still, there is something uncanny about that BroadShoulders."  

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