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Heard in Haven: June 1999 Title: What is Wrong With Her? The children Salim, Kadir and Fatimah were sitting on top of the flat roof of their father's house, throwing water-balloons at the pedestrians as Fatimah saw Surija enter their street. Thinking their new neighbor would not mind and could laugh about it, Fatimah threw one of the little wet bombs at her. But then, as it splashed in front of her on the street, Surija looked up angrily, exclaiming: "Hey! Fatimah! I never thought you to be that childish. Stop it, or I will tell your father!" Fatimah, surprised, muttered "By Atar... What is the matter with her?" "I saw her come out of the Heralds Hall lately," Salim said "It looked as if she had cried." "What happened?" Kadir asked. "Did she have a quarrel with Abdullah?" Fatimah liked to know. "Nah, could not be, I think he is not even in town. It must be something else,"Salim replied. "I always found her a little strange," Kadir remarked. Fatimah: "I do not know, I think she is pretty." Kadir: "Pretty weird, that is." And so the discussion about the young Herald went on and children did not notice a stranger looking curiously at the house next to them.  Title: Ceremony of the Shark (This rumor is being spread rather quickly through the southern dock areas. It appears that several of the Pallid Orcinus Warriors have been actively spreading word of this event and it can be confirmed by speaking to anyone of them... if you have the nerve to approach). There is a dark tide approaching, a tide that threatens to sweep all before it and replace it with something new... whether this change is for good or evil cannot be divined. Such things call for a scrying, an attempt to determine the course of the tide to come. Orcinus Kuronbo, Decemvir-Apparent of the Orcinus People, extends an invitation to all of Aether's people to once again witness the Ceremony of the Shark. Title: Delphic Announcement Once again, Rodrick finds himself lifted atop the stone platform by a pair of Delphic Cabeiri. This time, though, the young man who came beside him is the one who holds aloft the scroll to be read. Clearing his throat, the younger man looks once to Rodrick before speaking out to the gathered merchants and people. "People of Haven! It is with pleasure that the esteemed members of the Estrella make the pronouncement in the matter of the Provost of Haven. Each of the candidates held values and desires for this great city of ours, which will be considered and remembered throughout our future. However, only one may attain the position and continue forth as Provost. This one is the one known only as Eric. "We would like to thank those who put forth their names for this new post. It is our hope that they each aid the People of Haven in their own ways, as it is the hope of the Estrella that this new Provost fulfill the role envisioned. "As the afternoon sun marks the sky on the morrow, the new Provost will take his Oath and begin his official duties therein. Should you wish to greet him, or congratulate him at that time, it will be held within the Rialto." The young man then rolls the scroll up once more and turns toward Rodrick. The older of the pair clasps him by the shoulder and smiles proudly and can be overheard to say, "Good job, son." The mystery of who the young apprentice might have been is solved at last, and as the pair disappear into the courtyard of Delphi; the stage is once more lowered by the pair of Cabeiri. Title: Return of the Queen As the sun delivered its first rays upon Haven, before it was able to burn away the dew or bring heat to the day, a travelling party seemed to coalesce out of the morning fog. Agni-Haidar, Atarvani, servants and attendants escorted the Maharani back to Atesh-Gah, the entire band appearing heavy with the weariness of non-stop travel. However, no eyes caught sight of the God-King, and the current speculation is that he stayed behind in Masada. A sign of unrest in their marriage? Or has something else hastened the Queen's return to the Varati embassy? Perhaps the murmurings about one of her daughters, Riana, being missing is more fact than fiction... Title: Disappearance...Murder? "So I hear there's been some excitement?" "Yes! You know Shahir, the Varati clothing merchant? Well, yesterday, it seems some little Empyrean brat got mud on him or something and he was about to beat her when this Praetor stepped in and settled the dispute! Without any fighting!" "And that's exciting?" "No, but today, nailed to his vendor booth, was a muddy robe with a large patch of blood on it! And no one's seen Shahir all day!" " "Really?! How intriguing!" "Very. But anyway, I talked to Ramona last night, and do you know what she's doing now? Well...." Title: Strange Murder... Some gossiping servants on some errand through the Rialto... "Didja hear bout that guy, got killed over in Bordertown?" "No, what happened?" "Found the guy in some alley, lying in a pile of thrash, throat slit and burned up in a bunch of places." "Really?" "Yeah, but the weirdest thing was, the guys eyes were burned out." "They find out who did it?" "No. No one saw anything, it just happened in the middle of the night." Title: Provosts, Patchouli and Parties, Oh My! On her day off from the duties of the Gem, the petite, blonde little fifteen-year-old Mongrel girl, Violet, can be overheard talking with a friend, a Mongrel flower vendor, in the Rialto. "Aye, there's been so much going on over at the Inn, you just wouldn't believe it, Marcus! Deianyra got fired, remember her? She's the one who got into so much trouble with the Al'Samar Sesh... Sesh.." A few minutes pass by as the girl attempts to get her mouth around the 'Seshmew' word, before finally replacing it with "Imphadi Ranjeet. I've never seen Imphada Opal quite so mad as when Deianyra went into the Inn to talk with her. I think Imphada Opal might even--" And here her voice lowers as she leans closer to Marcus, those big, violet-hued eyes peering intently into his green-brown ones, "she might even be a fire-magician. I swear! We all saw these sparks fly around the table when she told Deia the way things are. Maybe that's why Delphi dinnae want her, 'cause they're upset with her not coming to them to practice?" The flower vendor, being quite a bit older and at least a bit more experienced, wisely holds his tongue. Violet continues. "Well, anyway, I also saw this really cute couple in the Inn the other night.. Oooh! I almost forgot! We've got a new addition to the evening dancers! I don't know her name, but that's probably part of their gimmick, to keep it as enigmatic as possible? A girl, I'm actually not sure if she's Varati or not, who's clad completely in black, she's even got little black gloves and a neat, net-like veil even over her eyes! And Imphada Opal's going around saying that the Grand Opening party is just around the corner, too... I don't know what she's waiting for, really. I haven't seen her boyfriend either, that big, big bouncer person, Imphadi Fabien? He's really nice... Maybe he's busy, or sick, I don't know. But I know that..." And here there comes a childish giggle. "I mean... Imphada Opal, even if she's not magical, she sure has a lot of fire to her anyway, you know? And I've seen the way some of the customers look at her. I think, if Imphadi Fabien wants to keep her, he really ought to be around more often? You know? I mean, I've heard about what her days were like when she was working in the Rialto, and did you know that she actually had four men pursue her at the same time? Imphadi Fabien, and three nobles, do you believe it?" Aah, such exclamation is sure to carry, as the other customers react to the stage-whisper. "I don't know their names, but I know that one was a really big Agni-Haidar, one was from Clan Behzad, and then one was from... from... Clan Kedhav! Aye, that's it. The Agni-Haidar, I heard, he even broke the counter to Imphada Opal's stall, just one blow with his fist and bang, it cracked from side to side!" There's more babblings coming from the girl, but they are more happy little sighs and exclamations about handsome Varati males and passion and such other fairly sappy things -- only a few people would find them interesting, mm? Title: Earthquake Rumor spreads quickly of a minor scuffle in the Rialto that had big results. The perpetrator? A very large, and none-too-bright Mongrel man. The victim? A student of Earth at Delphi. While the two men were fighting, a fissure was opened in the ground. No one seemed to be hurt, but a lot were frightened. Damage was minimal, too, luckily enough. About half an hour later, a couple of other Delphic mages came to the site and repaired the damage done to the earth. Them mages. Sheesh. Title: Varati in the Palladium?! The Palladium is all a-buzz: there were Varati within their walls! Thalia came to the embassy, escorted by Agni-Haidar and Atarvani. After exchanging a few words with the Emperor in the garden, that traitor masquerading as a Queen continued on to House Tritonis. They were in there for a short while before they took their leave and returned to Atesh-Gah. Of course, Praetorians kept a veeeeeeeery careful eye upon them the entire time. Otherwise, there probably would have been blood and mayhem... you know what those Varati butchers are like! Title: Praetorian Gossip A couple of "Hawks" have landed in the Rialto, taking a break from their patrols in order to grab a quick bite at one of the vendor's stalls. Their overheard conversation might go something like this: "You remember how the Augustin Praefect--" "Which one?" "The male one, Xanthiel... you remember how he instigated the coup in Civitas Dei, and arrested the entire body of the Aegis?" "How could I forget? The whole Guard was under scrutiny for months after that, while they tried to ferret out all the insurrectionists. I heard they demoted Tribune Astorius to an Optio..." "Right. Well, it seems that the Praefect's finally been found. Turned himself in, even. Or so they say. I hear his brother had something to do with it..." "That so? The Aegian? Kronian, he must be crowing his victory. Seems the tables have turned." "That's not all, though. You remember Optio Ianthe Amadeus? Used to be stationed here in Haven, but disappeared after the war ended? Seems she's been part of that group drumming up support for Avalon..." "What, the mongrel city? Damn mongrels. Someone ought to teach them their place." "Aye, and she's been helping them. But not anymore. She turned herself in too, right along with the Praefect. They're both going to stand trial, I hear." "Huh. If they're lucky, they'll get demoted to Velites. Say, you know what else I heard...?" And the talk soon moves on to other rumors. Title: Gallery Opening "Ey Jacob!" Tomlan the the mongrel shouts across the Rialto to his friend "Didja ear 'bout that art thingy openin' up?" "Nah, what's it all 'bout?" the other mongrel replies, questioning. "Thmn Empyreans're openin' a gallrey. Lotsa art'n stuff." "Where's all this happenin'?" "'Cross from the Palladium, I 'eard it from a Herald. Says there's some real costly stuff." "What, an' they're lettin' us in? Ain't like dem Empys." "Yeah, it's for everyone, must have real good security." Title: Avalon Bound "Murako has left Haven!" Several voices echo through the streets. Early morning, September 30th, gave way to a procession of Mongrels and scattered others leaving the confines of Haven's walls. At their head, none other than Thomas Murako, now jokingly being called the "Mongrel King" by some. Murako and a handful of others had been staying at the Gem Inn, a tavern that was recently the victim of some scandal involving the Clan Al'Samar. Already, rumors have begun to spread about the large number of guests that the Mongrel man was getting in his chambers. These include several Varati, a halfbreed shudra, an Atlantean Prince, and even Eric. Wasn't that the guy that was just elected Provost? Apparently, Thomas had quite a few visitors, and with Dremmond's announcement in the Rialto and his appearance at the Estrel Medea Somniare's wedding, it would seem that the Mongrel's visit to Haven was primarily for political reasons. Wait, a Mongrel who knows about politics? Such a thing is said to have not been possible. Whatever the case, this man continues to be full of surprises. Opinions about Murako and his companions are as mixed and varied as individual tastes, with not a few Mongrels expressing distaste for the efforts of Avalon as a whole. The words "upstarts" and "rebels" are frequently upon lips. Yet, despite their detractors, in a typically "Mongrel" fashion, those who support Avalon continue on, undaunted. This latest foray back to the former Empyrean province of Arelate showed Murako taking with him perhaps a hundred souls, when he arrived with but a handful. Their numbers included a young woman dressed in the garb and colors of Clan Khalida, and a Sylvan who was said to have been associated with the Heralds? Also with them were a large number of carts that were laden with goods such as wheat, seeds, flour, and tools. Also seen with the procession were the first of Avalon's 'army recruits.' Young Mongrel men donning armor of leather and bearing short-swords. They rode upon horseback with no nation's mark upon them. It would seem that Dremmond's training camp in the foothills near Haven is finally producing some tangible results. The winter is fast approaching and harvest-time is upon much of the lands. Some are skeptical that this Mongrel band will survive the hard weather, but from all appearances, Murako and his closest advisors will spend those months away from the comforts and warmth of the city. Title: Pink Pain in the Patootie During the night, between the 1st and 2nd of October in this year of 3904, someone took it to them to give the inhabitants of Atesh-Gah an uninhibited look at modern landscaping. Over a thousand pink bows in various makings have been placed all over the courtyard of the Varati embassy, decorating the trunks and lower branches of trees, the bases of statues, the backs and legs of benches. It's to the point where even the lawn itself sports hundreds of tiny 'pigtails' as tufts of grass have been pulled together by the near radioactive-colored ribbons. It is whispered that one of the Agni-Haidar was meditating in the courtyard, and that the poor man woke up to find himself in the center of an actual circle of the foul things, a single one cockily placed around the toe of his left boot. A naraki was unwise enough to laugh at the whole thing. What an awful way to wake up! The perpetrators of this heinous crime are still on the loose. Title: There was a What in the Fountain? It was late in the afternoon of October 1. Suddenly, there appeared in the skies a little child with Empyrean wings but dressed in Varati silks. Giving pursuit on foot were a group of Agni-Haidar, apparently trying to catch the girl. The child landed, threaded her way to the fountain and proceeded to play in it. Just as one of the Lions of Fire was about to grab the child, she flew away. Kiera Khalida, the half-breed, created a wind to corral the child, and the girl was taken home to Atesh-Gah. Some of the Agni-Haidar could be overheard muttering on the way home -- something about 'sleepwalking' and recommendations that the child be 'tied to her bedpost' or 'locked in her room' during sleep periods. Title: Not Another One! Overheard in the Rialto: A mongrel woman, shopping for supplies, chats amiably with a Varati vendor. "Hey, did you hear? Another lost-sheep bird noble's showed up." The vendor blinks, tilting her head to peer at the mongrel. "What, again? I swear, the Empyreans breed like flies... who's this one?" The first woman shrugs. "A Januarius, apparently. Some red-headed scholar that hangs around that Reeve that got knifed. She was talking to that other Januarius -- you know, the Adept from Delphi? The scholar gave the Adept a ring, and the Adept went into trance -- right in the middle of the Pantheon. Said the ring was worn by the scholar's grandfather, and that she was related." She chuckles. "The scholar looked a bit stunned." The vendor nods. "So I'd imagine. Was she happy about this?" A frown from the customer at that. "Happy? I'm not sure. She started talking in circles -- big words and dancing around the subject. Said the Reeve'd be pleased, though." "Hm." And the talk turns to other things... Title: What is up with the Dyer? Entertainers and beggars, mongrels and purebloods, shoppers and sellers alike... all have been witness to the strange rumors most recently floating about the Rialto about the Empyrean dyer and tattoo-artist, Deianyra Lyracides of the Cahr'Dhaki. An enigma to some, and a painted barbarian to others, Deia has become at least a familiar figure in the Rialto in recent months, selling her dyes, or imprinting a tattoo on some unfortunate soul. But on the heels of the rumors about her recent release from employment at the Gem Inn (those with less forgiving natures would put it simply, she was fired) and other whisperings about her disgraceful behavior towards the Seshmew of Clan Al'Samar, Imphadi Ranjeet, more gossip has come home to roost, so to speak. Her neighboring vendors witnessed in the last few days the painting and repairing of her small stall as Deianyra cleaned and packed up, looking like someone going on a long journey. Yesterday, a stir erupted when a young mongrel man arrived to take her place, claiming the same Cahr'Dhaki tattoo and name as Deia. As the man set up residence in Deia's stall, she slung a pack over her back and many expected her to simply fly away, back to her clan, wherever they were at present. But oddly enough, she set off north, on foot. A few young boys who followed from curiosity saw her slip a veil over her head just before she entered Atesh-Gah itself. And unlike many visitors, she did not come out again. What has happened to the Cahr'Dhaki dyer? Has this anything to do with her recent troubles with the Al'Samar clan? Will she ever be seen again? Title: The Jove Gallery News has spread about Haven, by Herald, by gossip, and by eavesdropping. A new art gallery has been opened across the way from the Palladium. The Gallery is run by the Joves. It houses two galleries. The first has works of now-living artists, and the second holds many ancient and valuable treasures, some are even rumored to have never been out of the Jove family vaults. All races are invited to enter, but the security force is more than adequate. Title: Found on the Beach The old man felt how the burning heat of the sun parched even deeper lines in his wrinkled face. Still, he dragged his naked, frog-like feet through the warm, white sand. Then, as he rose and looked up to the gulls high in the deep blue sky, an unknown smell penetrated his nose, stronger than the salt of the sea he loved so much. What could it be, this bitter taste ? He sniffed once more, but had no clue. As his eyes followed the silver-grey birds, he noticed them circling in the air but staying near to a place about two miles west of where he stood. Something must lie there, and therefore the old Atlantean slowly walked in the direction, curious as a beach-comber must be... Finally, after his poor feet were almost cooked on the anvil of the sun, he saw the thing that must have been responsible for the smell, as it was covered with a brown crust of dried blood. Under the stained grey attire, no more than bones it seemed, and the old one was certain that Death himself must have walked here tonight. But then, suddenly... a soft groaning reached his ears and he came closer to the stinking heap. Vaguely, he could understand that under all this cloth and blood, a wretched little thing must be. Still, he was almost scared out of his wits as an ivory-white hand raised, its fingers long and skinny. "Please... help me," a soft, female voice whispered and it sounded as if the last liquid vaporized in her throat. The man stooped and lifted the body that seemed more dead than alive. He carried back to his hut where he would get a closer look at this thing. Title: Marina Gone -- Coming Back? Three days ago, Decemvir Amaris Marina took leave of the Korallion. No advance notice or explanation was given at the time. Today, word has come from the Amarisian Decemvirate that Amaris Marina has stepped down from the position of Decemvir. A statement distributed from the Amarisian capital states that Amaris Marina has abdicated in order to devote time to her children, one of whom is rumored to be quite ill, and possibly to travel once the initial family crisis has passed. No word has come from the Amarisian Decemvirate as to who will follow Amaris Marina as Decemvir of that Atlantean kingdom. Title: Now Hiring! Recruiters from the office of the Provost have been seen moving around some of the areas with higher unemployment rates. According to those that have gone before the recruiters, there are several positions opening up in the city's more public-service oriented spheres. Street cleaners, sewage workers, lamp-lighters and tax collectors are all being sought, as well as aides for the Provost. While many people scoff at these lowly positions, others rush to the opportunity of gainful employment. During the daylight hours, just outside the city, and in some of the larger open areas, the newer recruits are seen being trained in the arts of lamp-lighting, street cleaning, and so on. Title: A Week Ago or So... "I wouldn't have called it cozy, Mildred. Not cozy. I would call it 'civil.' And who ever heard of an Augustin being 'civil' to a halfbreed, other than that unholy cad, Tiberius?" Irma quietly asks her bosom buddy, Mildred. Mildred, habitually much louder than Irma, returns in a nasal voice that can be heard across the morning Rialto: "He -- Cassius Augustin -- wanted to know how she was! And don't get me started on that Tiberius, Irma! Don't get me started on him! I've seen him escorting some Sylvan woman around. An eyeful, her. At least he has shown a lower profile since that house got its up-and-comin's from their role in the war. Since a few mongrel butts are warming chairs that the Augustin household had to sell, to pay its share!" Mildred fumes and draws breath for another scalding oratory when Irma, well-versed in her friend's speech methods, darts a few words in edgewise: "But Mildred," says Irma, "Cassius was being pleasant to an urchin, to a Sylvan man who sat on his -- Cassius' -- sticky-bun roll, and he wasn't even harsh to that winged halfbreed who calls herself Varati, when she started speaking of her Empyrean father." Mildred returns, "He knows who her father is, Irma. Mark my words. He knows." Title: A Painful Talk "No Giulio, I don't want to talk about this." Romano's steel-blue eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend and a shiver went through the other soldier as he stared back into this dark gaze. Athough he was higher in rank, it was as if these words, spoken in so gentle a voice, were an order to silence, an order given by one who is used to being obeyed. For a moment, Giulio was paralyzed by those hypnotizing blue eyes and his tongue was stunned. Then he blinked and looked away. "It's too important, Romano. You can't just mention that name and than shut up with some weak excuse." "My excuse is not weak commander, or you must call it a joke, having your sister die in your arms." Romano's voice was low and soft, but the anger in it made it sound as if hot steam pressed itself over his lips. As Giulio looked back at his former colleague, he saw an emotion in that usually so cold and insensible face he never expected there could be. It almost seemed as if this war-machine in his shiny armor had to repress his tears. Giulio nodded. "Just tell me where and when you saw this guy, and I will ask no more questions." "In the Rialto, this morning, and I assure you he won't be alive anymore by this evening." "Leave that for the Hounds, Romano. They have handled criminals of war before." "Pfah. That's what the Varati call me, too, but I treated their women with respect." Giulio rose. "The discussion is closed. Don't kill him, Romano. That's an order. Vale!" "Vale, Giulio. Vale." Romano shook his head and, almost unheard, he whispered, "Vale, Romano, moritura te salutat. I'll not rest until his blood is on my sword, Alana, never before I'll rest... I swear." Then he looked away towards the pub's wooden wall as he didn't want anyone to see the salty drop rolling over his burning cheek, her last words echoing through his head. Title: Another Strange Murder "Hey, Julis! Remember hearing about that guy that got himself murdered, and had all the burns'n stuff?" Cardis calls across the Rialto. "Yeah, I remember that. Guy had his neck cut open too, didn't he?" "Yeah, that's the one. Well, they found another victim, an Empyrean man, this time." "An Empyrean? Ha, Serves em right! Who was it?" "Some recluse artist from the Metis House. Vir was his name, they say." Title: Change of Guard It would seem that with the extended vacation of Kiral Khalida, Khalid Atar has named Nefer Maat Al'Samar to perform the duties of Foreign Minister until further notice. Any who speak with the new Minister note that the woman stresses that the position is only temporary. Perhaps despite her outward loyalty to the Atar, the woman is not as subservient as her sex and race would make one presume? And what are the Varati coming to, marrying Empyreans, women taking positions of leadership, succoring their enemies with food and shelter? Have they gone soft? Title: Pontus Tiberius Rebuilt! In what is hailed as record time, the engineers of the Empyreal Praetorian Guard and the artists of the Guild of Light have rebuilt the Pontus Tiberius, one of the major bridges across the Flumen Polaris and a lifeline between the Eastern and Western Empyres. The bridge had been destroyed during the war in a bid to trap Khalid's army against the river in Arelate; the new bridge was opened to merchant and military traffic on the 5th of October, 3904, with Emperor Drusus Marcus Jove cutting the ribbon to allow the first traffic to cross over. Replacing a temporary wood-and-stone structure, the new bridge is constructed completely of marble and arches high across the swift, wide river, leaving plenty of room for merchant vessels to pass under. It is being hailed as one of the signs of Empyreal pride and can-do spirit, that under such conditions as they toil now they could produce such a marvel of engineering and classic beauty in so short a time. Title: Haven's Docks Overheard conversation among older mongrels and commoners, near the Siren's Song: "Yew sees 'im? O'er there, onna docks. At's 'im, I says." "Baolus, yew drink t' much, 's not 'im. Died in th' Coliseum 'reena, 'e did. Saw m'sef." "'S Got t'be 'im, I says. Lookit 'em, the eyes! Lookit 'im, the scars! 'at's Archthyes, I says." Bah, y'got mud'n yer eyes. An' why w'd an' ol' gladiator be workin' docks? Fixin' 'em for 'lantean shipm'nts?" "Man can't stand inna arena 'is whole life, y'know...." Title: Danger in the Garden On the evening of Wednesday, October 14, 3904, Hounds stormed into a hidden area of the Old City Gardens after a tip about a problem. They found the victim, one Larissa Danielle Chryseis, bound and wounded, and her assailant, one Varati known as 'Tonol.' The assailant escaped the hounds through use of fire-elemental magic, and is currently being sought out by the Hounds. Title: Tonol It seems the Hounds are not the only one who seeks this 'Tonol.' Word has spread that the marked Praetor leads the hunt for this Varati, to take down the assailant of Larissa Chryseis. Meanwhile, more and more Praetorians have been seen around the Delphic Citadel, mainly around the infirmary. They stand guard, both on the inside and outside of the infirmary, although they are careful not to disturb or interrupt any of the normal functions of the place. They strive to be as unobtrusive as possible. Title: Empyrean Activity at Delphi Delphi has been the site of quite a bit of activity from several prominent Empyreans recently. The past few weeks have seen separate visits from both Cassius and Elidi Augustin, spawning much talk about the political machinations that must be going on. Just this past night, though, a visit from Emperor Drusus Jove himself has eclipsed these previous events. The Emperor and his entourage apparently arrived suddenly and unannounced, taking the Magi completely by suprise. They simply flew into the courtyard and entered the infirmary, reportedly to pay a visit to an ailing cousin. Complaints could be heard from healers about the disruption caused by their presence. The Estrel, Spirit-Whisperer, after being roused from his bed, quickly came onto the scene and was seen to carry on a discussion with the Emperor in the courtyard. After a time, the small group of Empyreans departed, taking the patient away with them. Title: Atlantean Wedding! Word goes out throughout the city about the upcoming wedding of Amaris Koralland and Delphine Jasmine, the former mute. The wedding will take place on (Insert IC date here). It has been made known that all Atlanteans and all friends of any race are invited to the celebration, which will take place in the temple of Pasiphae off of the Korallion. It is said that the High Priestess of Pasiphae herself will be the one to preside over the event. Title: Display on the Beach The city was shrouded in fog, a thick, low settling of clouds that masked both sight and sound. But then two streaks of red fire arced over the city and the sound of horns -- deep and profound -- filled the streets. A crowd was drawn to the beach, seeking out the source of these disturbances, and bore witness to the arrival of three Atlantean warships bearing the Orcinus pennant. At first, the crowd was highly alarmed to see these ships of war and their armed crew; observant ones among them noted the Orman guards present in the rigging. Orcinus Kuronbo then appeared with a group of pale-skinned warriors and announced an upcoming conference of all the Atlantean peoples, to discuss their future and destiny. This display of force and oratory was observed by such notables as Amaris Koralland, his intended, Jasmine, and Orman Riva. Rumor has it that a plain-looking man dressed in the ordinary clothes of a commoner might have been the Emperor Drusus Jove; most, however, wave this off this as a bit of fantastic, romantic nonsense. Title: Mongrel Girl Goes Free? A knot of mongrel men and women, young and old, gather around a firepit at the edge of the Rialto. It's late at night, and the traffic has died down. A quiet breeze from the ocean brings some relief from the heat of the day. An older man remarks, "Dharshev must have escaped on her own. No way the Archon would just let her go. Not after what she did." A young boy tugs on the man's toga. "What'd she do, grampa?" The man answers gruffly, "She stabbed a reeve, an Empyrean, in the heart. Oh, it was a mighty blow that ought to have killed him. The gods must have favored him, for he somehow recovered. Dharshev, though, she went to jail for months. And when she was there..." He lets it trail off, thinking the subject matter too mature for young ears. Someone else, a woman, pipes up. "She's back. For sure. I saw her with the apple-seller's son. She was bruised, and looked as if she'd been starved, but...she's certainly still alive!" The woman grins. A young man starts to laugh. "Imagine it, friends. One of us. Getting a knife between the ribs of one one them!" Conversations like this abound in the Rialto for upwards of a week, with 'Dharshev sightings' a common subject of such late-night discussions. Title: Praetorian Return As usual when soldiers return from peacetime missions, there is little welcome for the cohors of Haven's Praetorian Guardsmen led by Optio Aeneas Acesian that was sent to aid in the rebuilding of the Pontus Tiberius. Their flight from Ilium over, the guardsmen returned to the Eyrie. Soon thereafter, Aeneas was seen going about his normal duties. Title: Gossip from the Rialto... A couple of mongrels who are setting up in the Rialto discuss the latest gossip... "So, did you hear what happened yesterday?" "No, what? Faisal got hit with a couple of eggs that someone threw?" The other man stops and gapes, "Someone threw eggs at him?" A grin, "Yeah," he leans over, "it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen." He points to a neighbor of theirs, Varati, "Saleem didn't think it was so funny though." Snort. "Saleem never thinks anything is funny. So, did Faisal catch 'em and tear their heart out?" "No, that's the thing. He started to choke this one guy, but one of those winged guys stepped in and started talking to him. Leila said he was a Praefect, but Gaz said he didn't have any armor on or anything. So, they like talked, then Hounds came in, then the fish folk, well, one of 'em anyway. There was a whole bunch of talking but eventually Faisal ended up leaving without killing someone. Or hurting anyone else but the guy he choked." A voice in the back pipes, "Not true, I heard he hit the Praefect!" A rock is hurled towards the back of the stall, "Hush, you, if he would have hit the Praetor, we'd have that damn war going again. Don't talk if you don't know what's going on." The reply, "Well, I saw who hit Faisal with the eggs." There's the sound of feet as they take off through the market. "Cheeky git." "Which one?" Then the talk moves on to other things. Title: Work, Work, Work As recruiting continues around the city, work crews are seen taking on various projects. From repairs of the docks to maintenance on the sewer systems, work crews are seen all over the city, fixing this and maintaining that. Meanwhile, back in the Rialto, while meeting with an angry merchant over a trade dispute, the Provost, swamped with requests for his time by various parties was heard to mutter rather loudly, "I need an aide... or two." Recruiters continue to hire up the unemployed, mostly from the less affluent sections of town. Many people are hired from the tent city, giving them full time, paying jobs, and the means to move into real housing within the city. As well, surveyors have been seen, marking up maps, and taking measurements near the north part of town. Title: Shocking Sight It was through the dark of the evening that the Archon raced with little care or heed for those he shoved out of the way. He was clearly following something -- he kept stopping to look. But what it was, no other could see for all they craned their heads to peer. He barged into the southwest quarter with a clear course that took him straight to one, unassuming door. There, he shook down an urchin for a key and disappeared within. A short time later, Adept Jana fled the home, her torn clothing clutched about her. She fled straight for Delphi and returned a short time later with several Hounds and Healers both. It was quite some time before that group emerged again, clustered around a single Atlantean woman. Although most of her was wrapped from sight in a large sheet, what did show was so beaten, bruised and cut it was impossible to say what she looked like when healthy. Even her hair had been savagely cut from her head. The group proceeded directly back to Delphi, their determined pace breaking the crowd like the prow of a ship splits the ocean waves. The Archon returned to the citadel some time later. Title: It is a Good Day to Die... <excuse quote> This morning, a scuffle took place in the Rialto, the Sylvan bookie known as SwiftTongue was confronted by the Varati Lucard, and a fight ensued. The Sylvan ended up dead, though as the story goes, the Lucard did not draw his blade until the Sylvan had attacked... Lucard was taken to the Bastion for questioning... Title: Cheeky Little Mongrel A conversation overheard in the Rialto, between several mongrels, and a city-dwelling Sylvan. "Did you hear? Dharshev's up to her old tricks again." "Oh? What now?" "The other day, I heard she threw mead in an Empyrean's face. A Praetor or a Hound or some such high-ranker. Then another Empyrean intervened and saved her." "I don't believe that...but did you hear about what happened earlier today?" "No, no. Do tell. In the Rialto, I suppose?" "Aye. But I've no idea if this one is true. Dharshev apparently beaned a Varati fire- elemental in the back of the head with a rotten apple, and made it seem that an Empyrean did it. The Varati set the girl's wings aflame, or so I heard." Raucous laughter emanates from the group, as everyone pictures a flaming Empyrean, running around. "Dharshev isn't long for this life, I fear. No one who pulls that sort of thing can survive for long. I just hope I'm there to see her end. I bet it'll be a fiery one." A pause. "After all, she did egg that Agni-Haidar. What was his name?" "Faisal. I think. He almost choked Rohadar to death." Someone else laughs. "Aye, but it was worth it. Egg on the Agni-Haidar! Classic." Title: Weasel's Portable Emporium Looking for that hard-to-find item? Need gifts for loved ones? Want a craft, but there are no craftsmen about who make it? Well, then come to Weasel for all your shopping needs. Rumor is, Weasel can procure any item, and even high-quality items. Why, just the other day, he sold a very high-quality necklace to a noble Empyrean woman. Title: Atlantean Wedding Unlike the royal weddings of Empyreans and Varati earlier this year, which were held in the capitals of both nations, the one between Amaris Koralland, ambassador to the Empyreans, and Delphine Jasmine, took place in Pasiphae's temple at the Korallion. Thus, many inhabitants of Haven were given the oppurtunity to witness this ceremony and perhaps learn more about this alien race. "Marcia, this was definitely one of the weirdest ceremonies I have ever seen in my life. It all started out quite beautifull and sophisticated, with the decorations and the groom entering in his royal colors, presenting his bride with a beautiful crystal ship. That girl, lucky as she is to marry someone of importance, gave him a mere carved item, but her expression gave away it meant a lot to her. Yet... they destroyed each other's beautiful objects, shattering that which was important to the other." "You know Mike, I have nothing against those fish people, they are a fine breed and always helpful to us fishermen. But their secretive way of communication just scares the *** out of me. Like the other night, when that prince married that sweet girl, Jasmine, you know. They had to have their minds searched by the priestess to prove they really wanted this. And then they had to do the same with each other, to learn all about the other. Now, I love my wife, but I have no intention whatsoever to know what she is thinking in that mind of hers, or let her know what is in mine... just the thought of it..." "It was so very beautiful and mysterious, just as one can expect from those water people. But one thing made me feel very sick. At the end they gave each other animals, living ones. They didn't look so pretty, but they did not deserve to be killed and eaten in public. Yet they did. I wasn't the only one who felt that way, that Empyrean Reeve you know... he became all green around the nose." Of course, there were many joyful things as well -- the kiss, the manipulation of the moonlight and the song by the bride who thus thanked her husband for giving her a voice. But it is the unfortunate nature of humankind to emphasize on the more 'alien' and 'gruesome' parts. Title: Collaborators Like a shadow, the tall man entered the alley as the pale light of a weak moon cast her white rays through the clouds. His dark cloak waved in the wind and after a moment of silence, his hoarse voice spoke. " Is't ya, optio? Romanus Aurelius?" A lower, softer voice replied from the darkness and white feathers moved in the silver light of stars. "Of course it's me, you fool. Why didn't you use our code? Should every traitor know what we're up to?" The cloaked figure responded., "Nae, of course not, optio, I'll not be so stupid next time..." An Empyrean in full armor stepped out of the shadows and approached the much smaller man. The gaze in his steel-blue eyes was cool and made the other's heart freeze as if it were no more than ice. A shiver went through his entire body and though it wasn't cold these days, he felt as if winter just appeared. "Well then", the retired optio said "What shall ERA stand for? 'Empyrean Revolutionary Army,' or 'Empyrean Republican Army?' Tell me, poet, what do you think?" A cruel smile was on his face. The 'poet' felt drops of cold sweat roll over his neck. He wanted to get away. "Here ya're," he whispered and handed over a letter. "I came to give ya this, melord." Then he turned around and muttered something like "Ave..." "May all traitors and collaborators die," the soldier's soft, but clear voice answered this greeting. "You'd better be not one of them, my friend..." And he stepped back into the darkness of the alley, between the high walls where moonlight never came. The ERA was born. Title: Turmoil in the Town Overheard on heading to the Rialto... "Aye, ya 'ear what happened to ole Seram?" "Seram... who's Seram?" "Oh, 'e's the half-breed that came upon a good bi' o' money. Built 'imself a shop in the upper-class part of town, 'e did." "Oh, ya. That lucky buggar, wha' about 'im?" "'E ain't so lucky no more. Three masked men wearin' the wretched clothes of mongrel slaves trashed 'is store. Said they'd had enough of 'im, they did." "No... poor buggar." "Tha' ain't all. They beat 'im senseless. Almost died, 'e did. Beat his pointy-eared wife too, callin' 'er a half-breed lover, whore to trash, an' all kindsa stuff." "Mongrels? Tha' donna make much sense." The conversation continues as the two vendors head down the road towards Rialto. Title: Mommy!? A young Empyrean girl runs about the Tent City crying out for her mother. Those she encounters just shrug and look on her with pity, as so many others have disappeared from the outer city of Haven. As she sees a Hound, she starts towards him. Several hours later, one of the men the young girl passed comes to speak with a Hound. The conversation seems brief as the man asks if the girl ever spoke to a Hound. None of the Hounds have record of the loss, and in fact, when the Tent City is searched for the young girl, she is not found. The incident is written off as a prank from one of the noble children, though those who saw the child would tend to speak that she seemed rather earnest in her loss. A few question if this might be related to the disappearances that have occurred of late in the Tent City while others refute it. Yet when questions start getting answered, it seems that there are more than a few random Empyrean women and children gone missing. No mongrels, no halfbreeds, not even those of the other three pure races. Only Empyrean women and children. Title: Rialto Battle Apparently, many thought it was inevitable. And some of them were waiting for the chance. A mongrel Provost? You must be kidding. You're not, well can't have that: Eric, First Provost of Haven, was attacked in the Rialto the other day. Rumors fly about his condition after the attack. While the city's work is being done, none have reported seeing the Provost on the street since the attack. Others report that he was hurt, perhaps gravely. Rumors state that a crazed Sylvan attacked him, apparently not willing to let a Mongrel be the city's Provost. The tale takes a strange twist there. As the Provost and his aide, Laughing Spirit, fought off the attacker, a pair of Varati came from the crowd. Not dressed in Clan clothes, but rather, mercenary armor and regalia, the two seem to have told Eric that he had to be removed from some sort of position. A horrible fight broke out between the three that Eric and one of his attackers wounded, the other attacker dead. Title: From Atesh-Gah... ...comes a simple announcement that the Pasha of Haven and Khalida Shakir, Shahar Khalida, has cancelled all appointments for the near future and will see no one even on the gravest of circumstances. Why and for how long this will last is not known. Those seeking business with her must do so through her staff and assistants. No exceptions. Title: A Quiet Return... Only those most interested in every little detail of what goes on in Atesh-Gah might take note of such a thing, but a small party of armed Mongrel men and women, looking worn and travel-weary, was recently seen escorting a single young woman in the colors of Clan Khalida to the gates of the Varati embassy. Not long thereafter, those in charge of the servants and their daily activities within that mighty edifice were informed of the return of Faanshi Khalida from her journey to Avalon. Sharp gazes have begun to follow the young halfbreed through Atesh-Gah, and whispers behind her back muse on whether the maiden's time among Mongrels trying to claim freedom for themselves has given her ideas above and beyond her station. If it has, it cannot be gleaned from her appearance or demeanor, for the soft-spoken young shudra still presumed to be in the service of the long-absent Kiera Khalida has shown no sign of being anything but properly respectful to those who are above her in station. What actual status remains between Faanshi and her mistress, though, is still a mystery... Title: The Dark Tide The tradition of many military forces, the Varati included, involves music or chanting or drums or other expressions of pride and rhythm to accompany the marching of man and beast. But no such uplifting sentiments graces the small black and silver tide that pour forth from the gates of the Atesh-Gah on the night of November 14th, 3904. Those city dwellers who remember the departure of the Agni-Haidar forces under then-Seraskier al'Faisal Siraj retreat into their doorways, removing themselves from the attention of the forbidding warriors and their long-fanged steeds. The wyverns snap at those who remain as the force departs through the northern gates of the city. Once beyond the walls, they break into a long loping run and vanish along the road that leads towards the Varati kingdoms to the north. Rumor regarding the departure is rich in creative details and poor in actual fact; the only constant to all of the various stories is that it was indeed the Nayaka Faisal who led the small contingent north. Title: Zephyr's Disappearance In the last few weeks, a notable presence have been missing from the Palladium and House Augustus. No longer is the marked Praetorian seen around anywhere within Haven, as a matter of fact. In recent weeks, even around the Eyrie, questions have risen about the disappearance about what might be argued to be one of the most visible of the Praetorians. His detractors have naught to say but that he has deserted his post, while his supporters claim that someone or some people who wish to silence him have spirited him away. The remaining few just shrug and note that one missing Praetor is not of major importance.
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