West Marches - Gilded Cage

West Marches - Gilded Cage

There is a sharp rap on the door outside what used to be Quiz's closed Arcane Laboratory. Most of the contents long since transported down to the Forks. Sedriks waits outside, idly toying with a reed flute.



“I don’t spend my nights there any more,” comes the voice over his shoulder. Turning, he sees the pyromancer padding softly down the corridor, wearing a traveling cloak and a good solid pair of walking boots. He unlocks the door and gestures the bard inside.

"That's probably for the best really. I was never much sure if we had cleaned up some of those chemicals proper."

Quiz smiles. “Wyford is volatile. In many senses of the word.” The room is dusty and smells faintly of smoke and acid. Quiz gestures towards the chairs in the corner.

"Aye." Sedriks perches on a chair, slinging off the bags. "I have some news, from my meetings with Tirond."

“Do tell,” Quiz says, pulling out a glowing orb that lights up the room.

"Though I've not mentioned ye or any of the others by name, there are o'course some whisperins of the Whiskey Rider's prowress. The legend grows an' there a lot 'o interest in ye from them."

Quiz nods. “I figured that might happen. The Tirondians want to control what they mistakenly think they understand, and pyromancy is on that list.”

"Ta that end, they are willin to look over your particularities o' talent, if ye will pledge for Tirond. I've a mind the Inquisitors have informed them o' your pyromancy. But I've secured guarantee, that ye are free to do as ye will for at least the length of this Fulci business...no interferin'." Sedriks reaches beneath his cloak, and pulls a rolled up scroll, a promissory agreement from Tirond.

Quiz frowns slightly but says nothing. His eyes stare into the depths of the star.
After a minute, he picks up the scroll and looks it over.

"In true, between ye and I, I dinnae think there is much they can do to corral you if they see fit, more for appearances I think they intend. But before ye ask, nay I've little trust in Inquisitors. They're a capricious lot, and who knows what turns their ire and when. I only trust Quarentus."

Quiz shrugs. “I don’t like cages, Sedriks. Sticking my neck into one, even a tactical play, is... risky. And if the Inquisitors get ahold of one of us, I think they could hold them. That’s what they’re built to do.”

"They've already got a hold o' Magdelena, which is reason enough that we might go sniffin' around. I dinnae know what the best option is, although I'm most sure I dinnae like them hounding our heels. Mayhap the best option is to take them out direct, but we just don't know enough."

“Hm,” Quiz looks thoughtful. “They are getting bolder, though. We need to confront Tironde direct, or they’ll be dogging our steps every step of the way.”

"What we need to do, is sound out how the army feels about their Inquisitors, and see if there an angle there we can play at. I dinnae think they are as lockstep as they'd have us believe."

“Makes sense,” Quiz takes a sip of liquid from his canteen. “The common Tironde soldier isn’t afraid of pyromancy. They’ve at least done that much good.”

"I'll be clear, I nay agree with Maren and the need to cause a civil war yet, besides, Tirond protects Lothlarin from Essande and Viran for now, both sorely interested in usurpin’ control here. Maybe one day, but while Fulci's monsters are rovin the countryside, I don't know tha we can cause that kind of unrest yet."

“It’s a valid concern. Sevso witnessed and allowed the magical talents of our Riders when it benefitted him during the Shiocro fight. It’s possible this is a state of emergency enough to overlook or get a pardon for my spells.” Quiz looks unhappy at himself saying the last bit.
“As if I need a pardon to be myself,” he mutters.

The bard lays a comforting hand on Quiz's shoulder. "It's all politics friend, and I'm sorry it is tha way."

“I was planning on leaving the city for a bit. The Riders might be safer and subtler without me lighting up the Inquistors’ radar.”

Sedriks raises an eyebrow, "Ye are thinking of joining their expedition through the woods?"

“Well, if you’re concerned about Maren’s pot-stirring with the elves, it would help if I travelled with her and kept an eye out. “

Sedriks sighs, "Aye...I suppose...that makes sense." The Bard looks uncomfortable with the idea, "But...are ye sure ye'll be safe? Auriana was slight plain about...outsiders."

“I’m not human and Sham vouches for me. It should be enough to keep me somewhat safe. I’m more of an outsider here,” Quiz gestures out the dark window, “as long as Tironde holds Wyford in a strangle. And you can make your more discreet inquiries into the Inquisitors while I’m gone. If there’s an angle, you may be able to find it like that.”

"I shall try, but there is little opportunity here, at least for now. More like we'll have to make a trip to the Fort, at some point near."

Quiz lets out a long, slow, unhappy sigh, but nods.
“I’m not going to be able to hide in the crowd this time, is the subtext.”

"Nay, an let us be honest right, ye were never much for hiding in plain sight. Ye rather like being the center o' attention." There is a playful smirk about the Bard's lips.

It infectiously moves to the gnome’s face. “We’ve tried everything else. Maybe it’s for the best that a few of our more...volatile members are going to the woods. Cecil, Azais, Maren, Silea... if we’re heading into the lion’s gate, then we need to be rather pristine.”

"Ye said it, not I"

“You just smirked it,” Quiz grins.

"Ye cannae prove it."

He laughs. “Any advice for dealing with the Tirondians face to face?”

At that, Sedriks frowns, and something dark glitters there, "Bow low when ye are asked, an' cut sharp and first if ye are not asked."

“Sage advice. What are your plans, your hopes after this Fulci matter is settled, Sedriks?”

A curious glance, "I 'ad not thought much about that time. I imagine there will be further matters o' the guild to settle, more places tae explore, an more stories tae be written and sung." The bard gives a dismissive shrug, "I've no particular plans."

Quiz tilts his head and nods. “I can approve. But I worry if the Tirondians aren’t checked or balanced, if they continue treating Lothlarin like they have been, they will wake up more Valen Fulcis. So in the short term, I’ll play the political game if you walk me through it. But in the long term, something needs to change.”

"Aye, it's a fair assessment. But also until Fulci, Tironde was on the verge o' leaving the country but for a single half empty garrison. Most of tha' Fort were already emptied, and the armies marchin' off. It were convenient for others to forget that, but it's tha unrest of Lothlarin which has brought them to try and rein in control. Distasteful as some o' their methods are,"

He smiles. “You’re good at this, friend. I’m glad  we’re on the same side. There’s one more issue regarding the Fort.”

"Aye?"

“The Pyromancer tower there. Armen Veres, their sole experienced mage of the flame left. They’re choking the life out of him. I’ve seen him twice before and I was in no position to help him. If I do nothing this third time, it’ll be the last. They will kill him, they will suck him dry and wring every ounce of fire power they can out of him. It’s what they do.”

Sedriks looks thoughtful and concerned, "I did inquire o' him, by name. I've not seen him direct tho since that party. But in tha' promise there, if ye swear for Tironde ye may find the opportunity for him to do as ye need."

Quiz nods. “If I’m to play the game, then I have to name my starting goals. Veres’ life is on the table.”

"It makes sense, I'll help ye as best I can."

“I know that. I’ll send you a note when I can slip away from the elven party. Your tree... magic... your trick with the wood-walking, it might be the fastest way to arrange an escape.”

"I'd have ta' meet ye somewhere, I cannae step out o' a tree I've nay been at before."

“Good to know. Judging by the maps, though, I don’t think that’ll be a problem. The Delve is near the elf city.”

"Ahh aye then, I know that area well enough. Send for me if ye require, I'll keep a few Riders ready tae go." Sedriks rises, takes a pull of his water skin and stretches. "Take care of ye'self, and good luck."

Quiz nods and gets up to go as well. “Appreciated. You as good with that as with the viola?” He gestures at the bard’s reed flute.

"Learning, ever learning, friend. Always more tunes ta play." And with that, including a twisting, curious melody, the bard exits with a swirl of the green cloak and a cat padding after.