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Heard in Haven: May 1999 Title: Two Vaisya on the Street "Hmmph. Shop's closed there. Craftsman, wasn't it?" "Yeah. Druxim's. Didn't hear about that?" "Oh, oh. Shaper, was he? Had some troubles with it?" "Something like that. Made a mess of ol' man Hafred's desk job. Next day, man was up and gone, shop closed. He have family, you know?" "Nah. Never talked to him much. He leave the city, you think?" "Probably, unless the Hounds picked him up. Can't have those types wandering around. Damn shame, too. Was a pretty good craftsman, Druxim. Pretty good." "Yeah, shame. But that's what happens."  Title: Odd Couple Many people are seen in the Sirens' Song. And many of those are seen heading upstairs for a romp or two. The tall Varati known simply as Lucard has been seen more often with the small Empyrean, Enyo Chryseis, and not only in the 'Song. Glares and words are often heard shouted at the strange couple, followed with a move by Lucard to squash the offender. So far, the Empyrean girl has been able to keep the Varati man from doing anything brash. Title: Return of Messala With rather little pomp, but easily noticed, the once Varati Pasha of Haven and Warlord of Messala, Arslan Messala, returned to the city last night. The Warlord rode his own wyvern into the Atesh-Gah, accompanied by a contingent of guards, advisors, and generic staff. To all appearances, the Warlord intends to stay awhile. Arslan Messala had journeyed to the Varati city of Mesin, where his Clan's home lies. While there, Khalid named him Pasha of that city, relieving him of duties in Haven. However, the Warlord obviously still has some business in Haven. Title: A Healer Loose in the Rialto? The ancient beggar mongrel known as Old Brindy, known for haunting the Rialto for nigh unto fifty years and begging coins from Sylvan and Varati, Atlantean and Empyrean alike, was heard once again chattering her gossip by the merchants who gathered to sell their wares in Haven's marketplace. "She's a healer, she is! Chased the aches out of me old bones with just a touch of her hand! Not a Delphi healer, though -- I know all the healers who been in and outta Delphi for fifty years! She better be sharp or the Espers'll get her!" The Rialto merchants have long been used to ignoring the wizened old harridan, however, and thus only paid her half an ear when Brindy accosted a young Empyrean with bandaged legs trying to point out the girl in Varati garments... and when an Atlantean in turn questioned her, something about the whereabouts of none other than Prince Kuronbo. What merchants caught her babble about Varati healing restoring the Atlantean Prince and a Varati healer in the marketplace simply exchanged glances, rolled their eyes, and went about their business... But still, one or two of them did catch sight of the girl in the colors of Clan Khalida who fled the Rialto as soon as the beggar began her tirade. Maybe there was something to Old Brindy's rants this time? Title: Voices... "They WHAT?" "Ohhhhh... I think I'm going to be sick..." "His wings, they --" "I can't believe it, that's so, so..." "--took his wings" "...barbaric!" "It's the Guard. Don't want anyone thinking they're soft." "What does the Emperor say? The man's a member of his family, isn't he?" "Oh yes. Julia says Vincinza knows Roma who knows Irina, the Emperor's own slave, and she says that she says that he's not pleased at all! But what can he do; he can't afford to alienate the Guard." "But he's his family..." "...and a patricide... the Emperor had no choice but to take away his name and inheritance..." "Where is he now?" "No idea -- they exiled him after taking his wings. He's out there...*shudder*...on foot." "Poor Giles..." Title: The Exodus Concludes Word reaches Haven that the refugees who left Haven following Thomas Murako have reached their destination within the borders of the free state of Arelate -- the once-Empyrean city of Arcillium. Located in the southeastern corner of the war-torn province, Arcillium sits along the Via Inferus and south of the Silva Argentum. Once serving as a trading city along the road to the rich fields to the north, the surrounding area was relatively untouched by the invasions of the Varati armies to the northeast and west. Though the journey took some time, it was rumored to have been startlingly successful, a testament to the people's hardiness and organization. A large encampment has arisen outside the city's walls as the citizens of the new state clear out the dust and cobwebs of war and pave the way for their settlement. And Murako is not alone. Apparently, the rumors of the Outcasts' exodus from Haven were not ill founded. Somewhere near the Polaris River, nearly one thousand Outcasts, led by Cynara, joined with the band and swelled their ranks, which now include several hundred hardened warriors. With the increased manpower, these people are setting to work planting crops and making ready for the winter, which, while still several seasons away, will perhaps be the greatest obstacle they have yet faced. Even as the disenfranchised of Aether continue to trickle into the province Arelate in the hopes of finding a new life, runners have been dispatched from Arcillium to search out those who had arrived prior. They carry with them a message... "Behold, brothers and sisters! A new nation of free men and women is about to be born. You are all welcome to come in peace and join us. Thomas Murako invites you to bring your belongings and your family to the city of Arcillium in the East. All those who wish to be leaders of their people should seek council with him upon arrival." Title: Death of a Hound A couple of Hounds can be overheard as they walk the streets on their patrol: Sharp-Tooth says, "Peter died two nights ago, did you hear? The Atlantean sent to Delphi?" Adham glances aside, "What happened?" "Turned traitor, I hear. He was watching over that girl Adept, but when they got a moment alone, he attacked her." "By the Heavenly Flame, why would he do something so dishonourable?" "Not sure, myself. I heard his lover, Sara, came onto the scene and gave him a potion. It killed him later; the thing was poisoned. But there they were, on Delphi's grounds, going berserk, and trying to kill that Oracle. She had a student with her, but... Well, a student Earth elemental came along. And so did the Archon. Lucky for her. She got a dagger slid right under her collarbone, and if they weren't there, she would've died." "Ahh... I think I recall seeing a woman down in the cells. Had broken bones. She's dead now, though. What happened to her?" "Not sure. We just found her dead one morning. Shame, too. I would've enjoyed watching the Archon interrogate her." At this point, the Hounds turn a corner and disappear from sight. Title: A Wedding Invitation The honor of your presence is requested at the marriage of Dominus Cepheus Deukalion Tritonides, Archon of the Hounds, and Domina Medea Althea Somnaire, Estrel and Arch-Magus of Delphi, on Monday, the sixteenth of August, three thousand nine hundred and four at twelve o'clock noon. The ceremony will take place in the Chamber of Stars, Academy of Delphi. The Courtyard of the Academy of Delphi. Please direct all inquries to Title: Announcement by the Estrella As the sun rose over the Rialto and the many merchants and traders begin the business of selling their wares and setting up stalls, the old man Rodrick made his way to his usual, familiar post just outside the gates to the citadel. Raised on a platform as seems his custom, he makes his presence known by a patient look about the square. When he has at least a few merchant's attention, he begins to read a scroll: "People of Haven and the Four Races. We face times of change. Times when what has been the way will no longer, and new ways and rules are to become our path. During the opening ceremonies of our most recent Festival, the announcement of a new position, a Provost, was made public. It was to our great pleasure that we received not one, but four candidates within a week of the announcement. Therefore, we would like to offer to you, the people of Haven, the opportunity to speak for or against these people. To proclaim your voice now for the one who would serve you and act as your Provost. Their names are: "Thenomain Fabian Harvistor "If you should have qualm with any of these people, speak now before the Estrella make their decision. We welcome more candidates who might not have spoken before and now wish to make their request known. "The Estrella will make their decision in two week's time. All grievances, pronouncements or applications are to be brought within one week's time." Then, as quietly as he arrived, the platform lowers and Rodrick returns into the Citadel. He is followed by the sounds of those within the Rialto discussing the various names and implications. Title: Candidate Number Two Speaks Out The Rialto is almost a constant buzz with rumors and hearsay about the four candidates for Provost. Who doesn't know or hasn't heard of the two Varati, both leaders of their own people. But who are the other two? These Mongrels? Some of those questions were answered when Eric 'of the Siren Song' made an appearance in the Rialto earlier. Apparently having just arrived to enjoy some quick shopping, the mongrel was soon recognized by one or two of the other mongrels. They approached quickly. "Is it true Eric?" "You wanna be Provost?" "Why do you care about something like that?" "What have they ever done for you?" Eric frowned and held his hands up, "Friends, you mistake my intent here. Delphi has opened this position up to people of all bloodlines, not just the 'pure.' If I was put in the position, I would treat all people fairly, and listen to all problems, not just those of Mongrels, or those of a more lofty heritage." A passing Empyrean stops and asks, "What makes someone who works at a whorehouse able to run help run a city?" Eric chuckles and shakes his head, "I prefer the term brothel, and I'm only a guard there, I assure you, not that Cyprians don't make an honest living." He smirks and is about to continue when a young mongrel begins to snap at the Empyrean. Eric stops the boy and says, "No, it's a good question. I've had a good bit of training in the military, leading scout units. As such I have learned to be resourceful and use what is available to me to get a job done. The same sort of skills that will be needed in this position." An Atlantean merchant near the discussion calls out, "But you don't know any of the people that you will be dealing with? You'll be dealing with more than ladies of the night and gruff customers!" The candidate nods, "Aye, I'll be dealing with nobles and peasants. I've lived between the two all my life. In my military career, I had to deal with nobles all the time, who do you think hires mercenary units? I don't think I'll have any problem dealing with them, as long as they understand that I would be there to help them and am not an advisary." A Varati growls out from the back of the forming crowd, "Surely, you have not the experience that a Warlord or a Shakir has to contribute to the position!" Eric nods, "True enough, nor do I have the backing of one particular government, the prejudice of a life within one particular government, or the responsibility of an entire Clan to worry about besides the City of the Haven. I'm sure the Varati candidates have the ability, but do they have the mindset? This position is about being able to work with all the races and all the bloodlines, to make Haven the best city it can be. To help you and everyone like you to be able to worry about your own problems with having the problems of the city crop up. You need not worry about the sewer cleaners or the lamp lighters' guild, that is the Provost's job. And would you not rather take a problem you had with a merchant to an impartial body and not one who has proven where their loyalties lie?" The discussion boils down and Eric soon slips out, finding the quiet solitude of an empty stall to sit and consider. Outside, there are discussions continuing, everything from 'what a great candidate' to 'he'll ruin the city.' Eric shakes his head, whispers to himself, "What have I gotten into?" He slips out of the Rialto and into the fog of near the docks. Title: Scuffle in the Rialto It's only a day's worth of rumors, but they do spread for that short time. Some sort of hubbub with two Sylvans throwing things at each other and one claiming to be an Atlantean Herald's lover. It looked like it might build to be quite a mess until a few Hounds happened on the scene and stifled what might have shaped up to be a very interesting fight. The fines they imposed were stiff to say the least -- one Sylvan forced to hand over two zechin and the other to work for a week in the barracks of the Hounds when he could not pay. Title: Rumors Abound! Rumors spread like wildfire shortly after the announcement of the Estrella's candidates for Provost. What follows is a concise list: "Two mongrels and a Varati -- Gee, I wonder who will win, the outcast, shunned halfbreed-things, or the... riiight." "Heh, I always wondered if it was just a big Varati-controlled Puppet. Damn, I hate it when I'm right." "No Atlanteans? Sheesh, you'd think that for a position that serves the people, an Atlantean would make the finest choice, damn fishies are in everyone's heads." Title: The Mongrels Return A pair of Mongrel merchants are heard discussing something rather excitedly in the Rialto. "Have you heard, Kyle?" The young woman inquires of her fellow merchant. Kyle turns his head and glances speculatively at the other, "Heard what, Rachel?" She returns the smile with confidence and leans over to mouth softly, "Thomas Murako has returned to Haven." "Really now? Murako is that guy who led all of those refugees into the Arelate Province, right? Yeah, I remember his name. Lotta nerve he has, showing his face back in Haven, eh?" Kyle crosses his arms and chuckles softly. "Like he has a chance in succeeding at what he's doing. All real Mongrels know that their efforts will fail." The Mongrel woman furrows her brow and makes a face at the man, "I wouldn't be so swift to judge them, Kyle. From what I've heard, Murako has those people pretty organized. Rode in here earlier this morning with a regular army of guards. Had to be at least a hundred of 'em, all armed and sharp-looking." Rachel pauses and whispers a bit lower, "Word has it he's here to grant amnesty to all Mongrels and to negotiate with the other nations. He's got the support of Cynara too, from what I've heard." "Cynara of the Outcasts? Hrm..." Kyle intones softly. "Yeah, as soon as he rode in here, a small group of people started cheerin' and raisin' hell. Apparently they've got some supporters. He also had some one-eyed Mongrel ridin' with him. I think that was the same one who was trying to train those Mongrel kids awhile back. And there was a Varati woman as well..." Rachel continues to ramble on. Kyle perks up, "Was she pretty?" "Shut up, you mutt." The woman tags the man on the arm and the conversation is lost to the crowd. Checking around will confirm that Thomas Murako has indeed arrived back in Haven and has brought with him a cadre of guards. Apparently, there was very little fanfare and no announcement of this. Murako and his band headed towards Bordertown and promptly purchased residence in a local tavern. The reason(s) for this visit remain unannounced. Title: Talk about the City "Hasse!" the Mongrel candy-woman greets her friend as that one comes to visit her stall in the Rialto. "Is what I heard true? Two of the Provost candidates are actually Mongrels?" "As true as the fact that the Estrella were pleased to receive their applications. And as disappointed as they are by the lack of volunteers for this position. In fact, I've even heard that they plan to have the Heralds read out an official proclamation at every streetcorner in Haven to gain people's attention. They definitely want to see more people express an interest in this position. Just imagine, being the Provost of Haven!" "Just imagine" her friend adds with a dreamy expression in her voice, "that one of us could actually be part of Haven's government." "Stella," Delphi's cook warns, "a Provost has to deal with all Haven's citizens on an equal basis, not favoring one over another. Besides that, he has to prove himself to be an organizer of people and... well lots of other things actually, but I am sure that those who contact the Estrella will learn about that eventually." Coins clink as she pays for the candy and leaves. Stella watches Hasse curiously before she winks and turns to the next customer, "Say, who do you think should become the next Provost? I heard they were still looking for one..." And so the news spreads throughout Haven, after all: is there any more powerful advertising than the one done mouth by mouth? Title: Provost, Provost... The rumors are flying, yes, but flying where? How? Eventually, someone is going to broach the topic to one of the more popular Rialto smiths, a mongrel himself. Thenomain Harvistor, it seems, is That Other Mongrel interested in the position of Provost. The one who works with the huge Sylvan lad, Shimone. Of course, everyone loves a show, but this elder Mongrel doesn't seem too interested in making one. Sure, he'll tell people what he's planing on doing, and the conversation might sound a little like this: "I'll tell you lot the same thing I told the Estrella. My family has been a part of Haven for over a thousand years. We've run the farms, we've pressed the wine, we've learned here, with our feet on the ground in the marketplace. You want a person who knows how to work between people below and people above? You can't do much better than a merchant of some sort. What I have that ... say, a brothel-runner doesn't have, is more experience dealing with the higher class on a less covert manner. I've made locks for Varati, I've drawn sketches of Empyreans, I've talked religion with Atlanteans, and Sylvans ... well ... Shimone's about as Sylvan as you can get for a stone-walker. "In short, I've dealt with all races all my life, all classes of people. During the war, I helped Shimone provide for the tent city that lives still outside the city gates. But that's not why I stepped forward when the announcement was made. "Sooner or later, one of you will speak up, 'But you're a mongrel.' Yes, I'm a mongrel, a mongrel born of the very dirt Delphi was built upon. A mongrel, free in Haven to do what they can, not for anyone but for Haven itself. And that's what I ask, that's all I do, is to serve Haven. All the races, all the people, all the time. I'd challenge anyone to find someone more committed to Haven. "Haven is a merchant town. I am a merchant from a line of merchants and farmers. I know Haven. I know politics. I know why I can survive here. So if you people want someone who's concerned with you, I'll be here." That seems to be the gist of it. Thenomain has the occasional conversation along these lines when he's sitting outside the smithy at the Rialto. Title: Strange Procession Outside the Korallion A strange thing happened this evening in the streets of Haven, something that raised a great deal of eyes and questions. At sunset, the gates of Atesh-Gah opened and the dark Atlantean and his Pallid warriors left the Varati quarter and began a solemn march south... their heads bowed and their demeanors stoic. As they marched, they were joined by the rest of the Pallid warriors whom had been brought to Haven by the Kurofune Sentai. By the time they reached the entrance of the Korallion, there were almost a hundered of the Pallid warriors following the dark Atlantean in the silent procession. Once they reached the bridge leading into the Atlantean quarter, they stripped themselves of all weapons and armor... leaving them in a neat pile beside the bridge. Once they stripped themselves of clothing, they walked in a single file line across the bridge past the Korallion guardsmen and then disappeared. Title: Murder Most... Strange News has traveled that early this morning a body was discovered in a warehouse on the west edge of town. The victim was apparently the Varati named Safira, who was formerly a merchant-woman in the Rialto until she went to study at Delphi. It is said that the Hounds were summoned quickly to the murder scene. As the owner of the warehouse was overheard to say, "It was creepy. I went into the warehouse to check it out for a new shipment I am receiving, and there was this... this body, sitting at a table and stiff as a board." Later, a Delphi student was overheard to say, "They tested the wine glass that was shattered near the corpse, and found poison." Title: Provosts and Parties And thus, as the days pass by and the weather begins to go to autumn, the Gem Inn finally reaches its zenith. All staff positions have been filled, all goods have arrived from Masada, and Opal's thoughts turn to the official opening. The Big Party. Having been prone to mutter to herself about this and that, the cook's ponderings are revealed one morning in the main room. Watching Violet sweep the floor, the inn's proprietess picks the cat (recently renamed to just 'Moonshine') up and begins to pet it. "Listen up, friends. The Inn is just about ready for the grand opening now. We have all the merchandise, all the people, and certainly all the money needed. All I have to do now is find a good date to have as many as possible of us present, and pay people to spread the word about this. Once we settle for a good day to have it on, we'll begin to prepare. I'm aiming for this to be as grand a party as we can simply manage, with free drinks, food, and the best entertainment we can get. We'll be showing the people of Haven just how diverse a menu we really have, and I want no bigotry. It don't matter what blood our customers have, I don't care whether they're of my people, the Varati, if they're of mixed blood, or if they've--" Here, she shoots a glance over at one of the Mongrel lasses who's made her disliking of Empyreans quite well known, "wings. As long as the person doesn't cause trouble, they could have a donkey for a father for all I care." A brief pause to let the cat jump down and get a bowl of milk from the bartender, before Opal continues. "With that in mind... any ideas to make this occasion even more special are welcome, be it decorations, dishes, musicians, anything at all is welcomed. Ah. And I know some of you are wondering how I can handle both the inn as well as this interest in the Provost position? No worries. You make such a good staff that all I'm needed for is the management, and even that is just a brief peek here and there. The only big thing left to do is this party, and then I'll have plenty of free time, 'less something happens." Title: Avalon Now? Rumors begin to circulate around the mill quickly here in Haven, much as they always have. Some of the most recent center around the speech a grizzled old man gave in the Rialto. "Didja hear what happened.. it was the damnedest thing..." "I heard some upstart mongrel rambled into the Rialto a bit, why what's the big deal?" "You've obviously heard someone else's version, because I was there. One Eye Dremmond got up on this old abandoned booth and just started speaking to the crowd. Well, he starts talking about mongrels being equal to the other races, which pretty much everyone was sneering at. But then he started talking about the trip to Arelate... and people started getting intrested..." "Ahh... c'mon, that's just a dream. It will never happen...." "Well, he sure made it sound like it was happening. He gave a call to free mongrels and half-breeds and even pure-bloods that don't fit in. Spoke of a place of our own for once. He said that together, we could make Arelate our Avalon. The mongrels... started cheering... hell, even I did for awhile. I mean... Avalon... our own place just sounds awfully appealing..." "What happened then?" "Well, he jumped down off the stand and some tall mongrel woman came out of the crowd and planted a wet kiss on him then pushed him back and leveled him with a punch to the jaw." Both of the gossipers just look at each and laugh for a few moments. Neither know what to make of the ending of the demonstration, so they just enjoy the humor of it. Title: Heralds: Borean Ilex Painted Horse The news is distributed to the major political centers within Haven (Atesh-Gah, the Palladium, the Korallion, Delphi) on parchment, as well as by word of mouth to common customers of the Heralds. Ilex Painted Horse has been promoted to the rank of Borean, making her responsible for coordinating Heraldric courier activity with Haven. Courier Heralds entering or exiting Haven with messages, or bearing messages within Haven, are expected to keep Ilex informed of their activities, and Ilex herself is the primary contact for those who wish to have a message borne by the Heralds. -Daren Quick Hands, Corypheus of Haven Title: Wingless on the Move "What in the world could that wingless bastard be doing?" "Calm down..." "But he was seen with that nice young Jelara just the other day, and now this..." "Just because he was in the Rialto with another woman doesn't mean anything..." "But he offered her a pouch of coins..." "He did?" "Yep... and they were seen leaving together for that brothel by the docks..." "You sure that's where they were headed?" "That's the direction he and that floozy left in." "Well, if you ask me, that Giles has a lot of explaining to do." "Amen..." "What was the woman's name again?" "Pricilla.... I think..." Title: Whatever Happened to Khalid's Pet Halfbreed? For those within Atesh-Gah who follow the gossip of the higher-ups, or for those in Haven who have a morbid curiosity about other people's lives, or for those who simply were born into the wrong time and world and cannot indulge themselves in re-runs of 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous,' the following items of gossip can be obtained. It may be verified as truth or fiction: 1. The halfbreed Kiera, well-known to many military Empyreans as the lone warrior who accompanied Khalid Atar on his mission of destruction at Lycenae has not been seen around Atesh-Gah in ages -- since the Khalid Atar's wedding? Before? --Yet, she has been seen in Haven. 2. In Haven, Kiera is only seen infrequently, and she no longer hangs out in the farmlands north of the city, in the mornings and evenings. In fact, Kiera seems to arrive in Haven only for short periods of time, sometimes hang around the halfbreed Timin's junk shop, or she trades furs, feathers, or furry sorts of items for other items, in the Rialto. 3. When she departs from Haven, Kiera heads westish. 4. The halfbreed now garbs herself in worked leather clothing, much like that which she wore when she first arrived in Haven, several years ago. --But, she still gives her name (when she gives her name) as 'Kiera Khalida.' And Sylvans might be aware that Kiera seems to have adopted a cliff-cave on Crescent Lake, as her current abode. Though, she's not there much either. Title: Provost Candidate Gathering? "Yep, saw them all meself. They even talked a bunch o' that polytik stuff. You know. The Provo candidates? MmmHmmm. One of the Estrella, that there Medea one came out and talked to 'em too. Could tell if where mad or happy or what. MmmHmm. Yep, three of 'em, even. The Varati woman leader, wuz her name, Maat? MmmHmmm. And those two Mongrels. Eric, and that smith, Thenomain. MmmHmm. Theys sat around talking. MmmHmmm. 'Bout partyin', MmmHmm. I never did understand them types...." The farmer turns and goes back to whatever it was he was doing, before the story slipped out of him. MmmHmm. (OOC: Read in the voice of Billy Bob Thorton from Slingblade). Title: A Wedding to Remember Two mongrels, Melody and Katrina, both apparently servants of Delphi, can be overheard as they do their daily shopping. K says, "Did you hear what happened at the wedding last night for Cepheus and Medea?" M says, "Who hasn't? Can you believe that Empyrean woman... oh what's her name. Elidi Augustin. Can you believe she actually objected to the wedding in front of everyone? Oh, I don't think I could ever have done that. My knees would've given out!" The other woman chuckles a little, "That was the strangest Empyrean wedding I've ever seen. A half-breed officiator, an Atlantean handmaiden, and a mongrel acting as Medea's guardian. I didn't find out till later that Medea and Cepheus both had no idea about it! That little Oracle Jana and the Atlantean Shaper Aine staged the whole thing themselves!" "Are you SERIOUS?" "Oh yes! They both went and did all the arrangements themselves. Strangest thing. But I'm told it was all done with consent from Dea Tritonides. Oooh, ooh. When Elidi made her objection, that mongrel, Thomas Murako stood up and spoke on behalf of Medea's uncle. Guess who he was? The late Lysander Acesian! Seems that mongrel had a dowry, all signed and legal, from the late Princeps himself! Now how did he get ahold of that, I wonder?" "Indeed!" She grows a little more solemn as she adds, "Did you hear that Silvermist died during the ceremony? He just... leaned over onto his Healer escort, closed his eyes, and ..." "Oh no! The poor thing..." The two grow quiet as they shop, until Melody comments, "This will certainly be something to remember." Title: Nice Weather We're Having... For once, it is not a mere conversational gambit; comments on the unusually fine weather might be overheard more frequently in the past couple of weeks. Summer can be a miserable time in Haven, but this season is relatively mild. Rainshowers are short and refreshing, a steady breeze blows off the ocean to cool the temperature, and clouds frequently veil the heat of a midday sun. It is not a major occurrence, and may even go unnoticed by the majority of Haven's citizens -- until they emerge from the dim gloom of a tavern, or the sweat and heat of a smithy's, or the rush and bustle of the Rialto to take a deep breath of that summer air and admire, for just a moment, the gorgeous weather. Travelers, messengers, Heralds, or simply those who are more observant might notice that this unusually fine weather does not seem confined to Haven alone. Perhaps the gods are merely being merciful, and granting this small gift to the beleaguered citizens still recovering from the shock of war. In any case, much of the Empyre is enjoying a balmy summer. Could there be more to it than chance...? The curious may begin to overhear rumors, but most of them never circulate much, what with all the fanciful tales about potential Provosts, weddings, brawls, and 'uppity' mongrels. Who cares about the weather in the midst of all of that? Title: Estrella Announcement Rodrick is perhaps one of the most visible members of Delphi in the recent month with all the announcements he seems to be making. This morning is no different than any other time, as the old man makes his way out to the Rialto followed by a pair of Cabeiri. There is one difference from the normal routine, though, as beside him a young man approaches as well. Seems Rodrick might be training someone as a replacement, as he does look a bit worn from years of service. Regardless, though, he begins to speak out as his platform is raised by the pair of shapers. "People of Haven! In the matter of Provost of Haven, there have been changes in those who would apply. To join the current members, Reeve Altair Leander Thanatos and Opal Faida Ambika al'Harishaf have put themselves forth to be reviewed. As with those prior, if you have any words to speak of them, be they good or ill, speak them now to the Estrella. There has also been a withdrawal. Arslan Messala, Warlord of Clan Messala, has been removed from the list of candidates. If you still hold interest in the position, speak now as the opportunity closes at the setting of this Sunday's sun. "The second interviews will be held in a public forum. This forum shall be a debate held in the Rialto to which all the people of Haven are permitted to attend. Rules and time for this event will be declared after the final interviews are completed." Rodrick looks out over the people who have long since gone silent as he spoke, and nods. His aged figure then turns and heads back into the Citadel after the platform is lowered. The young man walks beside him, seeming taller though it is likely only because of the stooped form of the older man. Title: Augustin Wares Sold! The booth in the Rialto that had been set up a few weeks ago, featuring fine Empyrean-made furniture and wares, is now empty. The idly curious might overhear a conversation similar to this as they pass by: "I'm not sure what them fish-folk would want with Empyrean furniture, but they went and bought it all up. Just like that." "Oh aye? That's odd. Maybe just for curiosity pieces?" "The whole lot? I hear they paid a hefty sum for 'em, too. Overheard a bit o' the conversation when they were cartin' the goods away. The mongrel fella manning the stall thanked 'em for their generosity, and that the Deus sent his thanks, too. Said he was lookin' forward to doing business with the Amarisian Decemvirate in the future. You hear that? Amaris." "Hmmm. Curious. Hasn't the Orcinus Decemvirate got somethin' to do with the Varati? Them fishes aren't takin' sides, are they?" "I don't know. Could just be business. Could be somethin' more. I guess we'll wait an' see." Title: Disgrace Brought Upon House Jove Amaryllis Jove seems to be adding to the already-troubled House Jove by coming out of her quarters after some two or three months without being seen except for her middle of the night bathings at the Baths and some close friends comforting her through her mourning period for her love, Tros Basilius. Now, there is nothing wrong, you would think, at first in her coming out after hiding away from the rest of the world for so long, but it is situation she has brought upon the household that had remained within the family till this moment. The fact is that this young woman is heavily pregnant -- probably some five and half months judging from the swell of her belly. Such a disgrace to have an unwedded mother amongst the ranks of the Emperor's family... but things are not always what they seem, for Lissie has also taken to wearing a simple band upon the finger normally kept for the wedding ring. Is she in fact married after all? Title: Dea's Departure With the screeches of gryphons filling the skies, the Matriarch of House Tritonis lifted out of Haven for what is said to be a vacation, though darker stories are being spread by both servant and noble, that of an 'improper' relationship that has resulted in an unfortunate need for a vacation for the Dea. It's no secret that her waist is thickening, though only so much that her ribs no longer show. It is said that she really didn't have that Refugee Flu afterall, it was morning sickness that did it, but reason dictates that it's been too long, and she's not grown enough. Then there are all the hours that she's spent with that strange guard of hers, and he's reported to travel everywhere with her. Has the fair Valerius been more than... just a guard? Title: Elanus' Baby? Well, it seems that, during his wanderings around the city, Elanus had found a newborn babe in a rubble heap. Two things were strikingly odd about this. One: It's a Varati. Two: He's taken it back to the Palladium to raise as a slave. Very curious, indeed. Title: Strange Bedfellows While others at Medea's and Cepheus' wedding were distracted and saddened by the sudden death of Silvermist, the Mongrel Thomas Murako took a moment to speak with Shakir Al'Samar. An exchange of sweet words between lovers or an impertinent request by Murako? Who is to know, but the mongrel left the exchange physically unscathed. Yet, the intrigue does not end. A few days later, the Shakir was seen entering the room of Murako at the Gem Inn, carrying two scrolls. The two remained within the room with the doors closed for several hours. No screams or breaking crockery were heard during that time. Eventually, Nefer Maat emerged bearing four scrolls. Inn helpers could only report that blood stains were not found on any of the room's furniture. However, with these two events, gossip mongers have been sharing the information that Ranjeet Al'Samar, creator of Thalia Tritonides Khalida's and Aurora Khalida Jove's wedding gowns, was with Thomas Murako previous to Medea's and Cepheus' wedding and overheard to be establishing some sort of assignation between the Shakir and the Mongrel. Title: Swordfight in the Rialto Early sunday evening, an incident occured in the Rialto. Darias, a Varati warrior of Clan Behzad and one Ceterion Antoninus of the Praetorian Guard became involved in a dispute over the Varati's treatment of an Empyrean woman and child. Insults were exchanged, and weapons were drawn, a brief swordfight ensued. No blood was spilled, though the Varati swordsman was disarmed. He had withdrawn before the arrival of the Hounds, so a report of the incident was made by the Ceterion. Opinions are divided, predictable along racial lines, as to who was at fault for the encounter, though more than one Rialto-goer is of the opinion that a certain Empyrean girl needs a talking to.... Title: Moving up the Ranks... There have been rumors, hearsay mostly and not much more than that. It was seeing Nefer Maat al'Samar upon the arm of her clansman Ranjeet al'Samar at the wedding of Medea and Cepheus that brought the mutterings to the surface. Not that many care about such things really. After all, who really cares what the Varati do behind the tall walls of Atesh-Gah? But word does spread to those who care to bend an ear that, although Ranjeet al'Samar has not been with the Clan for a year yet, already he has gained much fame and repute for his work as a tailor. And it would seem that is not all he has gained. Often seen in the company of his Shakir, some brows have risen, but others staunchly deny any such unseemly liasons... no, indeed, it would seem that the Shakir has taken a fancy to the tailor's mind, and has gone so far as to officially make him her Seshmew -- her chief advisor and second in command. A tailor? Well, everyone has to rise up from somewhere, neh? But so quickly? Hmmmm-mmmmm. Title: And While We're on the Subject of Murako "Hsst! Fatima, did you see her?" "The one in Khalida colors? The one with the green eyes? Who is she?" "The Amir-al only knows -- but don't you think it's odd? A young thing like that? Going up into the Mongrel's rooms?" "Oooooh, she did?" There comes a gasp from the younger of the Gem Inn's serving staff. "All by herself? How... how brazen!" And Alisha, the older of the two maids, bobs her head wisely. "I don't think she was up there long enough to do anything... shameful" -- and she stifles a giggle, pronouncing that last word with all sorts of shades of meaning. Fatima titters in return. "That Murako is having all sorts of odd visitors, isn't he? Maybe he wants to be one of us? Maybe he's looking for wives?" "I'd volunteer!" "ALISHA! He's a Mongrel!" "But a pretty one! And that armor... doesn't he look like a Warlord?" The gossip is quickly forestalled, as the two young women are caught and sent about their business... but not without many merry giggles. Title: Fighting Outside Atesh-Gah? A rather unusual sight graced those who walked the street outside Atesh-Gah the other morning. The small Empyrean, to some known as Gabrielle, apparently, for a short moment, stared death in the eye as she confronted the Varati known to others as Darias of Clan Behzad. The story does not tell what exactly sparked the whole incident, but what is known is that the tiny artist sat bent down working on a painting with the Varati embassy as motif, as the warrior walked past close behind her back. Seconds after, the woman stood up and approached the large man. None of the rumor-mongers were close enough to hear exactly what was said, but it seems the small woman was utterly upset over something, and the warrior refusing to listen. The scene escalated until the Empyrean right-handed slapped the warrior across the cheek -- and seemed ready to do it again, had not the Archon Cepheus appeared and literally pulled her out of range. The well-known Hound then effectively brought an end to the whole thing as the artist seemed to have decided to actually leap for the Varati to pummel him to the ground, by easily kicking the small woman out of the way. The Behzad warrior, weakened by a wound to his forehead from the other day as he picked a fight with one of the Praetorians in the Rialto, was equally discouraged from continuing the fight, and soon disappeared through the gates of Atesh-Gah. A broken rib and severe bruising was the outcome for the artist, but bystanders -- especially those who caught the look in Darias' eyes -- agreed that the results had been a lot worse for the tiny woman had she been allowed to carry on with the assault. Title: And Together We Shall Stand.... The summer months are upon the land. With them, longer days are brought as is the heat that makes the humid air seem even heavier than would be normal. Among the many other side effects of the heat that come, are tempers at their boiling points. It is something personified by the many young toughs and would-be swords-for-hire that hang about the city garden looking for shade. Between boasts and brags, blows often fly, as they do between two burly young Mongrels. What they argued over is quickly forgotten in the midsts of the others that circle around to watch the fight. The fight is not to last long, though. A weathered old face pushes his way through the encircled onlookers. He makes his way straight to the fighting pair and separates them. They try to protest and push him aside to continue, but each is given a stinging blow to jaw and pushed back into the crowd, being caught by hands flailing out to stop them from tumbling to the ground, "You may continue when I am done," he says evenly in a deep voice. Among the crowd, quiet whispers can be made out. 'It's One-Eye Dremmond.' Turning slowly, his good eye scans across the crowd and he speaks. "Many of you know this by now. As a result of the war between the Varati and the Empyreans, the province once known as Arelate has been given to Mongrels and outcasts to make a home of their own. I traveled there with a small group, and we gave it the name Avalon. It will grow and prosper, but it will also be challenged. It will be challenged to bring enough life back to the land to grow crops. It will be challenged for a people that have always lived under other's boot-heels to govern themselves. And it will be challenged to be able to defend itself, both from threats, external and internal. An Amry must be raised, and must trained. I have taken on that task. I cannot do it alone. I need proud and capable women and men that have the will and the patience to lead. I need those with the discipline to follow and become good soilders. They are attributes that live deep within our hearts, if we only have the desire to find them. In two days' time, I will have prepared a camp outside the walls of Haven. If you have it in your heart to learn to fight for what Avalon stands for, then come. Together we will stand, together we will protect what years of blood sweat and tears of purchased. Well will be an army." And with that, the weathered Mongrel falls silent and makes his way into through the crowd and out of the garden. Silent, appraising murmurs follow him. Title: Sex, Thugs, and Drop & Roll... Two mongrels are overheard at some point during Tuesday afternoon in the Rialto... "Some pigeon kicked Sal in the Rialto today! I'z saw her! Broke his leg clean!" "Aw... you're daft... I saw 'im up and around not tree minutes ago!" "Yeah... cause some dirty Sylvan healed him right there on the spot...." "Bah... you been hittin' the bottle again..." "'ave not! She wa' one of those mystical types... with da' eye on her thingy..." "Like the Acorn? I 'ear he's a mean one too..." "Yeah... just lik' im! She had wings too!" "I'z bet her and the Acorn are sleepin' together! Them pigeons flock..." "Naw, the Acorn already haz' some dog in hiz' bed. A pigeon just like 'im!" "What, ya' donna think he can hav' all the women h' wants!?" "Good point...." Title: On Tour An entourage -- white, scarlet, gold, brass, all shining and glittering in the bright sunlight -- departs Haven in the morning of the 5th of September, 3904. It is the Emperor Drusus, at the heart of a gathering of soldiers and courtiers which is smaller than one might expect. The word is that he is gone on tour to inspect the devastated areas of the Empyre and the efforts by Guard and civilian alike to rebuild roads, cities, fields destroyed by the Varati host during the war. Title: The Game is Afoot Ettowealonans and Apisachi alike are astir with some of the recent happenings amid the reclusive Sylvans. Only the faintest hint of some of the turmoil may be heard by sharp ears along the streets and markets of Haven. --Many Shadows daughter, Morning Mist, did WHAT? Because of a vision? ... Delphi involved? " Dark brooding looks accompany that snippet. --Varati invasion...? Taking over their lands? Why, how? ... (a bit of conversation spoken by somber young warriors buying a sack of arrowheads). --Murder? Missing woman? ... Heartsease belongings used to get her scent and track her... trails searched and watched? --Mad wolf attacking people? I thought it was a Puma, had warriors on the lookout... Both? they have had both? --Gold lumps the size of your fists, used for shaping lessons, like using a fortune in wealth for a toy! Faces close and voices fall silent if strangers press for details. Business is concluded and Sylvans disappear back into their forest homes, leaving rumor to grow behind them. Title: That Chyrseis Family... "....seems to be of bad blood. Just look at how they behave. That Jelara taking up with the fallen Giles... he killed his own father, you know. Such a shame, too. She is such a skilled worker. Her stuff is so beautiful." "I heard that... Did you hear how that hunky Praetor Caius beat the fallen Giles up! I heard it was a sight to behold!" "Oh! I wish I had seen that! Don't forget Jelara's cousin, Enyo! It's disgusting. She's practically living with a Varati." "A VARATI? That's a disgrace!" "I know... I even saw her flirt with others, not bad enough to be a cyprian and sleep with a Varati, but she's a slut too!" "Isn't Enyo the older sister of the little Larissa? She's such a sweet child, how could they be of the same blood?" "I know... I heard Larissa's been missing, for near a month now. And Enyo hasn't even reported it! Says she's with friends... visiting. Yeah, right! That poor girl..." Title: Overheard at the Beach Two Atlanteans sit gossiping at the beach. For some unknown reason, they speak aloud, and thus are overheard by passersby. "Have you heard about that mute girl?" asks the woman with the silver hair. "Which one? Oh, that Jasmine? What about her?" The lady with the green shine to her skin leans forward. "She's not mute any longer. She was healed by that healer...the branded one!" This said in shocked whispers. "I would never have allowed that one to lay a hand on me. Not unless I was half-dead... and maybe not even then." The other shakes her head. "Me neither. Well, she's a strange girl anyway, that Jasmine." "Not too strange to capture the heart of the Amarisian prince. You've heard they're to be wed, right?" "Yes. Can you believe? I'll bet his sister is fit to be tied. Him marrying a commoner. I mean, she's got no finesse at all. Raised alone and all that. You'd think he'd marry someone who would bring some benefit to the family at least, wouldn't you?" The lady's hair spins a silvery web as she shakes her head, shrugging. "Must be love." Title: Drunken Rumors The number of merchants that come through Haven day to day is an incredible number. Someone, somewhere, is in charge of counting as best they can, but people slip through the cracks. The merchants know how many of themselves they are ("Me and Trak," for instance). One night some of these self-counted merchants are busy getting drunk in the Gem Inn. Their conversation, originally whispered to themselves, becomes louder. The Varati merchants seem to say something like this: "Izzit weird, yah? Ah mean, w're carryin' silks an' spice. Ah mean, lossa stuff. Lossa good stuff." "Shaddap, Trak." "Oh, it's all on the boat, now. Not our pro'lem. But see ... see ... where was I goin'? Ohyeah! See, we was attacked, jus' outta the mountains. At night, there was this noise an' our guards went to investigate and then they says... they says that the earth rises up an' trips 'em, then men of mud swarme'd 'em." "Oh, oh, tell 'em the best part, Biln. An' someone get me another drin'." "Yeah, then these mud men... they... take their swords. An' that's it." There might be more, but the two Varati are too busy getting drunk. Thenomain doesn't believe a word of it, but even drunken stories are seeded with some sort of truth... Title: A Dead Reeve? A Varati merchant speaks to a Sylvan customer in the Rialto... Abdi: "Did you see what happened??" Morning-Frost: "Yeah! I couldn't believe it! That Hound dared a mongrel girl to stab him! Even gave her a weapon and ripped off his breastplate!" Abdi: "But did you hear his words? He was willing to lay down his life for equality with Mongrels! And if she still wanted him dead, then let her kill him there and now, he said!" Morning-Frost: "Gods... And she actually did it??" Abdi: "I know! And from the way it looked, right through the heart! They dragged him off towards that Healer's shop..." Morning-Frost: "The Moment in Thyme? FallingStar's place? But why not the Citadel Infirmary?" Abdi: "I don't know. But I do know Altair's a friend of FallingStar. He stops by my place all the time for a quick bite! I never thought to see the day that anyone would go after him so cold-bloodedly... Morning-Frost: "What about that mongrel warrioress that was there? And that Empyrean woman?" Abdi: "The ones who tried to stop it? I don't know. The Mongrel just walked off, while the Empyrean helped Altair off to that healer's shop. But not after some rather angry words with the attacker..." Morning-Frost: "With a wound like that? I think he's a goner." Abdi: "Have faith in Atar. He won't let that one fall from the sky so quickly." Morning-Frost: "I'll put my faith in Nokomis, thanks, and keep praying for that Reeve..." Title: Candidate Change A pair of men stand talking at a stall in the Rialto, one Mongrel slave another a Varati worker. "Did you see, that Mongrel candidate, Eric, he's carrying his sword around again." "I saw that, yes I did. Think it's because of what happened to the Reeve?" "Nah. I doubt it. Man seemed a bit on edge though." "Wouldn't you be? Waiting for the Delphi's high-ups to make such a decision?" "Hmm. Seems the last thing on his mind right now is the Provost thing. There is something else going on." As the two continue to talk, a pair of cloaked figures turn to walk off, their dark uniforms mostly hidden by the cloaks they wear. Title: A Quiet Departure It wasn't a big farewell -- no fanfare, no horns, just a coach and two gryphons, a few shedded tears and lots of promises to be good and to write every day at least. Maia Jove would have stayed longer in town, but caring daughter Helena insisted that mama dearest simply could not be away from social life back home for much longer. So up up and away she went, leaving House Jove in the Palladium a quieter place. Title: What Name was That? "They asked for who?" "Some clod named Luebke... Samuel Luebke..." "Strange... I'd swear I've heard that name somewhere." "Ain't he a mongrel... the one that sells..." "You got me... there are too many of 'em." "Funny thing is, a lot of folks 's asking about him. Some rumor about money being involved... a bounty..." "Who'd bother to put a bounty on a mongrel..." The pair of Empyrean merchants fade from sight, the conversation lost in the crowds. Title: Murder in the Garden As several women walk through the Rialto, gossip starts.... "Did ya' hear? That Var'ti lover, Enyo Chryseis, is dead. Murdered last night!" "No! Really...? Good riddance then, I say." "HE found her, too. Her lover, Lucard did. I heard her throat was slit." "No..." another chimes in. "...stabbed in the heart. I think he did it!" "Wasn't her cousin or some other Chryseis stabbed in the Rialto the other day? And Enyo's throat slit?" "Yeah, the one with the winged fellow. Jelara, I think her name was." "That's what it was. The Var'ti lover's throat was slit all right. From ear to ear...." Title: Yet More Gore As it would've happened, a few days ago there was a wee bit of commotion in the Rialto. Several people have been heard talking about some kind of thing which was bleeding, though opinions clash when it comes to whether the 'it' was a human or some form of animal. Whatever it was, it had more garbage and filth on it than any real visible skin, and the smell was awful. It did seem to be heading north, though even if it somehow managed to survive what seems to be severe injuries (some speak of bones and what may have been internal organs being visible, though that is surely an over-statement...?) it will soon die of blood loss, shock, and most certainly blood poisoning from all that stuff that was covering it. Title: Rialto, Den of Pain Action never ceases in the Rialto, and after an altercation between the Nayaka of the Agni-Haidar and a young mongrel that left blood in its wake, another mongrel accosted the Shakir of Al'Samar. The mongrel would appear to have been trying to steal the Shakir's purse, but rather ended up breaking what was being called a priceless, sacred religious object, and the Shakir's leg. The mongrel, whose name was later learned to be Lailah, attempted to run away, and as the tale has grown, it is said that she struck the Hound full in the face with her fist several times, as well as kicked at the injured Shakir. The mongrel attempted to proclaim her innocence after abusing the Hound, but the witnesses were too many. Indeed, it is rumored that an Empyrean shouted out the truth of the Shakir's accusations. As reparations were demanded, the Hound passed judgement that Lailah would be sentenced to serve Al'Samar until her debt was paid off, though due to the huge sum that was owed (said to be ten times the value of Lailah's life), Lailah may be serving for a long time. There are dark mutterings of favoritism after this judgement, especially as the Hound in question was a Varati, and many know that Maat is a candidate for Provost. It wouldn't do to anger the future Provost, eh? As there was a huge crowd of Al'Samar clan members at the scene, the mongrel girl was hauled off before a protest could be made and an appeal lodged with a higher authority. And, in the wake of this judgement, some people remembered that Al'Samar bought the stall that belonged to the wool merchant, Safira, before she was killed. Title: Atesh-Gah Missing a Princess? The rumors from the imposing edifice called Atesh-Gah hold that a frenzied amount of activity is occurring within the obsidian walls. Why? The indiscreet chatterings of naraki imply that the Princess Riana, the Maharani's daughter, is missing. Worries that ill has befallen her are coating the embassy with nervousness, and beneath that tension is a budding anger that someone has purposefully done harm to her. The Pasha of Haven, Shahar Khalida, is said to be distraught and mustering parties of Khalida troops to scour the city in search of the missing Princess. No one in the Atesh-Gah will rest until she returns. So rumor has it.
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