Gaming With Drhoz

Preparations for our diplomatic meeting with the Chelish representatives. Decius suggests we send an advance party in disguise as ourselves, to draw out the inevitable assassins.

Ayva: You are quite paranoid. Decius: It’s going to f***ing happen. Even odds whether the assassins are actually from Cheliax.

Of course the last time we were out at the Menador Gap we were disguised as Chelish troops, and destroyed the entire fort, so it’s not like we have any grounds to complain.

Civilla: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

The party we’ll be meeting is surprisingly small - apparently the Diplomat doesn’t like large entourages. No doubt including a relative of one of the PCs was a deliberate choice.

The Chelish Negotiation party:

Nereza Rigalio - Primary Diplomat Saybel Eraskian - Nereza’s personal assistant Athtinia Anadite - Apprentice Negotiator, here to observe Terenzian - Bone Devil Bodyguard Ermelind Alazario - Scribe 

Civilla Alazario: sigh of course.

It might be co-incidence - the Alazarios are a large family, and include the crown-appointed Mayor of Egorian, a naval captain who was so disgusted by the ruling family they became a pirate, and the Mayor of a small town in The Shackles who is living happily away from Chelish politics with his three wives.

Terzo might be very good at inspiring crowds, but Rajira is probably a lot better at one-on-one negotiating, especially since she’s functionally immune to telepathy, and can lie through her teeth. Civilla will probably be too busy maintaining the illusory decoys. Ayva will be providing the mind-reading amulet.

The Oakrib Inn is quite a large and luxurious building, although the ‘mysterious’ collapse of the Manador Gap has drastically curtailed the number of clientele passing through the area. Hopefully it doesn’t end up ‘mysteriously’ collapsing too. Cheliax is paying for the accommodation, so we’ll definitely have to check how secure the shutters on the windows are. Surprisingly the decoys attract no attacks - either the inevitable assassins are smarter than that or will be arriving with the delegation. Nonetheless we won’t be sitting with our backs to any doors or windows.

Civilla (OOC): Aim for Mars, settle for the Moon, carry a large mattress.

Nereza Rigalio: On behalf of Cheliax and the House of Thrune, I thank you for joining me in these negotiations. I wish to assure you that my job is not to convince you to allow Kintargo to remain part of Cheliax. That tomb, as they say in Nidal, is sealed. My job is simply to ensure that Kintargo’s transition to a free city goes as smoothly as possible, and to resolve several outstanding details regarding the relationship between Cheliax and Kintargo. Perhaps after we’ve had time to wash and have a meal, we could begin our discussions? Terzo: If you don’t mind, I brought a bottle of wine for the negotiations - it’s an excellent vintage, I’m sure you’ll agree.  Nereza Rigalio: Oh, very nice, I’ll have it prepared for the repast. Civilla: … Cousin. This must be uncomfortable for you. Ermelind Alazario: Not so much. But I can catch you up on the family while I'm here.

Ayva: Are you going to catch them upon your own happy news? Civilla: If they don’t already know my wife is with child, then why are they even nobility? Terzo: I’m sure she’s already on a list of possible hostages somewhere. Civilla: News on matters of lineage travels fast. Ayva: It’s like breeding racehorses…

Nereza’s assistant makes an adorably misguided attempt to flirt with Terzo after the evening’s entertainments, apparently because she’s always wanted the autograph of a Kintargan bard. Because he’s not a complete idiot, Terzo signs it with his nom de plume rather than anything that could be used to forge documents on his behalf.

Issue 1: Trade Agreements.

Kintargo isn’t a major exporter to Cheliax, but the goods it does export tend to be luxuries. The silver salmon of Yolubilis River are among the tastiest of their kind. Other exports are equally valued—particularly salt, silver, and granite, either for their intrinsic value (silver) or for their value as trade goods (Kintargan salt is much sought after by gourmets throughout the Inner Sea region, while Ravounel’s granite quarries produce beautiful silver-flecked stone that is valued in Cheliax and beyond). Nereza pushes hard to see that the price of the salmon, salt, granite, and silver produced and exported from Ravounel to Cheliax is locked at a set price. The price she offers is comparable to the price Kintargo currently receives within Cheliax, but it’s much less than the amount these goods could command on the open market. Further, she seeks to ensure that a minimum of 70% of these exports are promised to Cheliax.

Concessions Made:

The Minimum export amount is reduced to 50%.

They agree to yearly renewals on the price lock.

Issue 2: The Menador Gap 

Cheliax wants Menador Gap to be opened once again, to reestablish the land route between the Heartlands and Ravounel for the purposes of trade and travel. Nereza seeks a pledge from the PCs that neither they nor agents of Ravounel will interfere in this rebuilding, and also that Menador Keep will remain under Chelish rule. Finally, she seeks some reparation for the damage done there, and asks Kintargo to help pay for the expensive repairs.

Civilla: HELL no. 

Our counter offer is that Ravounel helps clear the Pass, but builds our own fortress at our end of the Menador Gap, and Cheliax foots the entire bill for rebuilding the one that ‘mysteriously’ fell down. Since our diplomatic skills are ridiculously high, Nereza caves.

Ayva OoC: We built these characters at the start of the campaign - god help you if you’re a murder-hobo. Terzo: I’m sure Bertuscio can suggest some legal precedent for neutral ground between the two fortresses. Avya: I’m sure we can get our fortress built in.. a week and a half? Civilla: I can get the groundwork done overnight.

After dinner, Terzo has a song battle with the resident bard, with increasingly scandalous and innuendo-prone poems and songs. Rajira decides to unsettle the opposition by singing the Song of Free Kintargo while she’s strolling in the garden. There is a knock on her door that evening. It’s the apprentice negotiator. Apparently there are concerned parties in the Chelish capital of Egorian that would really, really like us to concede the rest of the negotiations to Nereza, and are offering some 40,000GP in magical items to each of us as a bribe.

Decius: What is she, poor?

Even if this is just testing the waters, Rajira doesn’t need, or want the money. And the attempt to bribe us is something we can bring up during the negotiation, or send as a note overnight.

Issue 3: Artistic and Scholastic Rights

Kintargo houses numerous performance halls, art objects and historical artifacts, as well as the collected treasures of noble families. Mementos of Cheliax’s history reside within these museums and art houses and in the Alabaster Academy, and House Thrune fears losing access to these treasures. Additionally, Nereza wants to ensure that Alabaster Academy will not discriminate against Chelish citizens. Nereza asks that anyone bearing a letter of introduction from House Thrune be granted unconditional access to these art houses and museums.

This unconditional access also applies in instances where the location in question is a private residence. Furthermore, Nereza asks that any items the government of Kintargo owns or controls not be sold or destroyed without first being offered to House Thrune. In the case of items to be sold, House Thrune agrees to pay a fair price if it exercises its right to buy them.

We’re universally opposed to most of that - especially unconditional access to private residences - but will consider letters of introduction by their individual merits. A lot of that is Kintargan history too. Plus, the Alabaster Academy selects its own students, but we can request they don’t consider nationality as one of their metrics. First refusal on items we can agree with, providing Kintargo sets the price.

We can’t fail that diplomacy check, either.

Ayva OoC: ‘We thought they were just stealth-happy murder-hoboes - we were wrong”  Civilla: The Ghosts of Kintargo? They’re a myth. Ayva: Rajira is a negotiator's nightmare - can’t be mind-read, or motives sensed, and can’t even confirm what her alignment is.

Concessions Made:

The Alabaster Academy will not use area of origin, in particular Chelish origin, as part of their entry discrimination for prospective students/faculty,

Entry to and conditions of entry to privately owned residences is entirely up to the owner's discretion with written permission registered with both the Chelish and Ravounel governments, Visitors to any public objects of art owned by the Ravounel Government (Opera House, Museums, etc) are expected to behave appropriately and are accountable to the Ravounel government in the event they cause damage or cause other problems, and vice versa is granted to any public objects of art in Chelish territory

Issue 4: Protections of Kintargo History

One we brought up ourselves. For one thing, the original justification for the Order no longer applies to Ravounel. The Region of Ravounel and the city of Kintargo, specifically, has a long and storied history which is being slowly and methodically erased by the Order of Redactors. in the interest of maintaining its history and recovering it, the Ravounel Government wishes that the Order of Redactors be banished and banned from the region of Ravounel. In addition, any orders of Hellknights employed by the Chelaxian government are also banished/banned from the region.

Concessions made:

Nereza’s counteroffer agrees to remove the Redactors, but requests that Hellknights be restricted to merely diplomatic duties. But offers removing the Dottarri as a sweetener.

Decius: If you want diplomacy send a diplomat, you colossal twat.

Civilla points out that Hellknights count as troops, which would trigger the Kintargo Contract. Bertuscio notices that Hellknights in diplomatic roles would have to be recognised as such by the new Ravounel government, which would be a loophole Cheliax could exploit. Nereza fights hard on this one, but we still win the face-off.

Civilla: After all this cousin, please feel free to come visit. For personal reasons.

She has a point - these negotiations are going so badly for Cheliax he might need to flee the country.

Ayva: ‘Shoot the messenger. And his horse’.

Nereza brings up Athtinia Anadite’s visit overnight - she’s impressed by our honesty but claims she sent the apprentice herself, and appreciates the opportunity to practise testing the waters even if it was a complete no-sell.

Nereza: I should have authorised her to up the offer.

How do we spend the evening, before tomorrow’s discussion of military matters?

Terzo: More flirting with the resident bard, probably. GM: Athtinia Anadite finally realises the bard bats for the other team. Civilla: And I’m happily married. Ecstatically married in fact. Athtinia Anadite: *Heads off to try flirting with Decius* Civilla: *hurriedly intercepts* Do you interact with devils? At All. Take note of his holy symbol - he barely tolerates ME.

Something lands on the roof over Ayva’s room in the middle of the night. Her magic detects at least four completely invisible living things there, one approaching her at speed.

Ayva: Snapdragon Fireworks. *explodes them*

Perhaps the assassins have finally shown up - but are they here for us or the Chelaxians?

Not that we’re likely to find out - the attackers appear to be the spider-like Jorōgumo, and we couldn’t trust anything they told us anyway.

Either way it’s going to be a very inconveniently arranged fight - all our rooms are on the top floor of the inn, with the Chelish delegation in the northern wing, and ourselves in the south. There certainly appears to be enough Jorōgumo that everybody is going to get an unexpected visitor, probably crashing in through their shuttered windows. But at least it isn’t going all their way - they clearly they weren’t expecting Ayva and Decius to only sleep two hours a night. Decius isn’t even in his room, and Civilla is downstairs, completely engrossed in a letter from Shimza. Bert, Rajira and Mahat are awoken by the bangs of Avya’s spell, but Terzo very much sleeping something off.

Bertuscio cautiously opens his door and looks up and down the corridor, but doesn’t see anything - not that he would, if the assailants are invisible. Around the corner, Rigalio’s Bone Devil Bodyguard is doing the same. The imminent Widened Fireball that Ayva will be using to set most of the roof, and hopefully all the assassins, on fire will make the problem more obvious. And probably blow all the windows in. It will also inconvenience Rajira, who has sprung out her own window, swung up onto the roof, and blundered into one of the invisible opponents. 

Civilla still hasn’t noticed anything going on.

Ayva (OOC): That must be one saucy letter. Civilla (OOC): I may be going to my room and re-reading it.

Hopefully the way the Widened Fireball lights up the entire landscape outside the inn will attract her attention.

Rajira is a bit surprised to see an exact duplicate of herself appear on the far corner of the roof, grin evilly, flip down off the roof, and attack the devil. The assassin also appears to be carrying that evil kukri we thought we had sold to the church of Shelyn to have destroyed. The rest of the other delegation is now getting an assassin and a Hold Person each. Clearly this attack is being staged to frame us. Another of the spider-ninjas swings in through Bertuscio’s window, apparently expecting to find a sleepy barrister, and instead finds a perfectly awake and alert Silver Fox Vigilante. Bert was actually planning to go full fox, because he does almost as much damage in his kitsune form as he does pretending to be a human, and he didn’t want anybody from Cheliax making the connection between his barrister persona and either of his secret identities (vigilante and actual fox), but he’s out of choices. That assassin has to die. 

Mahat has joined his cousin on the roof, intending to mince anything he can feel but can’t see. It doesn't go that way. At least the sounds of battle on the roof overhead wakes Terzo from his stupor.

Ayva OoC: Terzo, wake up! There’s a damsel in distress! Wait.. there’s booze in distress! Terzo OoC: Presumably I heard the window break and assumed it was a bottle.

Terzo uses his Cape of the Mountebank to Dimension Door into Bert’s room, understandably thinking that being alone in his room with a battle outside is less than ideal. He wasn’t expecting to teleport into the middle of another battle. Decius arrives on the upper floor, like a righteous comet. Civilla is also en route, finally. The Symbols she painted onto the lining of her cloak of flying, after the last time we faced disguised invisible foes, prove very useful, limming the assassins in faerie fire. Over in the best room, where the devil Terenzian is still holding the assassin at bay, the intelligent kukri casts Fear, which has no effect on the devil but leaves Nereza Rigalio cowering in the corner of the room - opposite the only door, alas.

At least two of the Jorōgumo have jumped or been knocked off the burning roof - if their bodies are still there later we might be able to protest our innocence. Unfortunately Terzo gets himself bitten, and Jorōgumo venom does Wisdom damage, which worsens rapidly.

GM: Terzo really wants to put tomatoes in a fruit salad today.

At least it also managed to claw up itself in the scuffle. Two of the others manage to Crit Fail their attacks too. And if the Chelish government set up this attack to incriminate us, nobody informed the barbed devil bodyguard of the fact, since he managed to inflict a few critical injuries on the assassin. Unfortunately Nereza Rigalio knows the spell Shadowwalk, and vanishes - if the plan was for her to run back to Cheliax and report our betrayal, we can’t follow her. At least the assassin disguised as Rajira seems confused by this development - but Rigalio’s death would also have served to incriminate us.

If Decius continues to obliterate the spider-assassins as completely as he’s doing, there won’t be much evidence left to defend us, either. Hopefully Rigalio will remember Ayva yelling about doppelgangers and at least come back to check. It’s also very fortunate that Avya provided everybody with First Aid Gloves - Mahat is looking very poorly. Civilla uses Telekinesis to yank Mahat’s assailants up off the roof. 160ft up off the roof. 

Civilla: YEET

3 ½ seconds later they’ll be back again, at speed. And still be in range of another of Ayva’s Chain Lightning Spells while they’re falling. It’s just as well Terzo isn’t in his room anymore, because they’re going to smash right through the roof. And Ayva uses the Chain Lightning to badly singe the assassins attacking the other delegates, anyway.

The fake Rajira laughs, says something pithy about the Silver Ravens being triumphant, and attempts to retreat. Clearly she is wildly misinformed - we’ve NEVER claimed to be the Silver Ravens. And Terenzian slashes open some of her arteries as she backs away. And Grabs her. And sees through the illusion disguising her as Rajira. Clearly this encounter is not going to plan for the spider-assassins.

Decius: Eh, I doubt it’s going to matter. Cheliax could still just take it as an excuse to blame us.

Mahat and the real Rajira back away from what will soon be a new skylight in the building. The yeeted assassins return, smashing in the roof and Terzo’s bed underneath.

Decius: It’s fine, he can share with Bert.

Decius obliterates the ones that were breaking in at ground level, presumably to attack the inn’s staff. The other assailants already in the building are actually having trouble subduing the Chelish diplomatic team - one even gets entangled in its own web - and stage their own retreat. At least the wanna-be Black Widow rolling around on Bert’s bed with Terzo is finally killed - Bert can run off to check the other rooms in this wing, to see if the rest of the Ghosts of Kintargo need some help. There’s quite a scrum developing in Terzo’s original room.

Ayva: Once I get the time I’ll make you a Ring of Invisibility and then you can be everybody’s problem. Rajira: I already am.

Civilla also decides to add to the number of Problems by Summoning a Monadic Deva, militant angels who like giving their maces names and proudly announcing them in battle with evil foes. The Movanic Deva that Civilla already had summoned is surprisingly not put out by the rival, since they’re both Lawful Good and that would just be silly. 

Civilla: Those two by the window - deal with them. Monadic Deva: With pleasure! EVIL-DOERS! FEEL THE MIGHT OF LUCY!

Fortunately Civilla realises in time that one of the pair in question is Terenzian - Nereza Rigalio’s Bone Devil Bodyguard, and hurriedly amends the author to just target the assassin impersonating Rajira.The protective aura the Monadic projects isn’t helping the devil much, which is quite inconvenient when the devil and the angel are on the same side in this fight.

Avya electrocutes the fleeing Jorōgumo with Chain Lightning. They won’t be fleeing much further, unless propelled by muscular spasms. Saybel Eraskian - Nereza’s personal assistant - is carrying the poisoned apprentice negotiator Athtinia down the corridor and screaming for help. Civilla’s cousin Ermelind charges into their boss’ room and attempts to assist the bone devil’s efforts against the assassin. Terzo continues to hemorrhage wisdom, but manages to Cure his own Critical Injuries - although that does nothing about the wisdom-draining poison.

Bert manages to shoulder the door open, and discovers that Rajira and Decius have been sharing a room.

Decius OoC: Scandalous! Rajira: Callistrian, there is no scandal. 

Admittedly it’s more wall-to-wall combat than sharing, but five people crowded into the small room is getting a bit awkward even without all the whirling blades, claws, and venom. Rajira inflicts more defensive wounds on the Jorōgumo, who were already looking pretty battered, what with being dropped through the roof from 160ft up, throats cut by Decius, and Rajira’s own bloodletting blades and venom. They don’t actually need Bert’s help. Civilla flies in through Bert’s busted window.

Civilla: Terzo! How goes it?

Terzo is looking confused, frightened and unhappy. Civilla is used to seeing Terzo when he’s drunk, but this seems different. Fortunately she has a Deep Green Rhomboid Ioun Stone, which detects poison in the vicinity.

Civilla: ah. You’ve been poisoned. And not in the fun way.

Fortunately she has a jar of Restorative Ointment on her chatelaine.

Civilla: Cleric-in-a-Can! Not a very good cleric, but… I’m SURE I gave everybody a jar of this.

She had, but Terzo hasn’t realised he’s been poisoned yet, and would be unlikely to if his Wisdom dropped any lower.

Civilla: And Antitoxin. What happened to your Antitoxin? If you run out you need to tell me!

Our wing of the building cleared out, we can investigate all the screaming in the Chelish wing. The only surviving enemy is the assassin that was pretending to be Rajira, and who is being wailed on by two devas and a human scribe. Unfortunately the devil that had her grappled is now Confused, thanks to the assassin’s increasingly desperate attempts to escape, and is babbling to himself.

GM: Ermelind Alazario is going to do something stupid. After all, he's an Alazario. Civilla: No we're not! Reckless, but not stupid.

Ermelind Disarms the assassin. The intelligent evil Kukri gets flung into the chamberpot.

Balgorrah the Evil Knife: The humiliation!

Terzo staggers off in the direction of the screaming, and gets trampled by Decius, Bert and Rajira who are running in the same direction and much faster. Decius at least hits Terzo with a Laying On Hands on the way past. Rajira’s appearance is probably going to alarm Saybel and Athtinia, since she’s covered in blood.

Ayva: Not hers. Rajira: No, mine’s green, this is blue.

The assassin is now much less of a threat - the kukri was massively boosting her abilities. The deva’s mace caves her skull in. Investigating the disillusioned body reveals evidence that she was a high-ranking worshipper of Norgorber. Presumably that’s how she found out about the kukri. It certainly makes her a valid target, even compared to the bone devil she was fighting.

Monadic Deva: Oh good, my summoner has not gone insane.

Civilla Dispels the Confusion on the devil. Out in the shadow plane, Nezara comes to her senses, and Sends a message to her followers to enquire as to events. Upon her return to the material plane we agree that somebody is trying to keep Ravounel and Cheliax at each other’s throats. With all the assassins dead, and no way to trust any information tortured out of them even if they weren’t, the Kintargo and Cheliax negotiators agree that it would be best to continue with the negotiations as if nothing happened. After a day’s recess, once we all recover from the excitement, anyway.

There’s still the problem of the sentient knife screaming blue murder from the privy. We clearly can’t take it back to the church to destroy, so we’ll do it ourselves.

Ayva: Let’s do this outside, I've damaged the building enough already. GM: The kukri is an Artifact. A minor one, but Disintegrate isn’t going to work. Balgorrah: LOL Ayva: I know people who know Disjunction, so shut up. Rajira: Would a Rod of Cancellation fix that? Civilla: Yes. Balgorrah: :( Rajira: I have one in my Glove of Holding for exactly this sort of situation. Civilla: So Rajira’s the magical girl?

Avya gets to work repairing the building and gardens. Civilla dismisses the Monadic Deva

Civilla: I know you’ll like to cave in the bone devil’s skull, but we’re dealing with Cheliax here, so thanks for your help against the assassin.

Her usual Movanic Deva, however, hangs around, and continues to eye the bone devil aggressively.  

Nezara: shrugs you have your protection, I have mine.

Terzo’s player: Only REALLY bad and naughty children go in the prickly pear wiggler 

Issue 5: Reciprocal Military Alliance

Cheliax wants the right to immediately summon all Kintargan military force to its side in the event of a formal declaration of war against an enemy power. In exchange, Cheliax will come to the defense of Ravounel if war is declared against the region.

Ravounel’s response to THIS proposition can be summed up as "fuck you we ain't doing shit"

Presumably phrased more diplomatically - any existential threat to either nation should be obvious enough that a request for aid could and would be made. Or, you know, they could just send the Ghosts of Kintargo in and solve the problem in an afternoon.

Issue 6: Non-aggression Pact

Cheliax wants assurance that Ravounel will not make military incursions into Cheliax, and that it will not supply other nations with weaponry or powerful magic.  While Cheliax isn’t overly worried about Ravounel doing damage to the nation, it remains keenly aware of its inability to march troops into Kintargo. By gaining these assurances, Cheliax intends to protect itself from this vulnerability.

Concessions Made:

The Agreement is made Reciprocal - Cheliax will not freely supply troops, Magical weapons or powerful magics to any nation trying to attack Ravounel Magical Weapons is Specified as anything conferring +4 Bonus or higher. "Powerful magic" is specified as anything of 5th Spell level or higher. The condition preventing the sale and trade is removed, but Kintargo must sell these Items or Magical services for a fair market price, and must not freely provide them to other concerns.

Whilst the negotiations can’t be said to have gone the way Cheliax would have preferred (definitely not if they’re the ones that sent the assassins) at least we didn’t trigger World War III. We depart on polite terms. And while Civilla's cousin feels like his position in the regime is relatively stable, he is aware that the power of Cheliax stands on a knife edge, and is thankful for her offer of asylum should it fall.

+++ Thought Of The Day +++Every voyage into the nothing is a confrontation with horror, with the implacable things of the Warp, and with Man's own innermost fears+++

Before we head out to find new fortunes for the von Kelleron dynasty, we make some effort to correlate the scrambled database of Koronus Expanse star systems we arrived with. Some of them look very promising, such as the lost human colony enjoying an early industrial level of technology the last time the Imperium looked in their direction. Every one we can locate in advance is one we can tick off the list. This proves much harder than we had hoped, even with the charts we’ve acquired at Footfall.

Navigator Voyantis: *somewhat aggrievedly* Habitable systems tend to have unremarkable stars, for obvious reasons. Father Vorn: Tell that to the Lathe Worlds.

Problems include that the database was compiled from the efforts of multiple exploration ships, using different encryption methods, and some of the entries are not only encrypted but corrupted. 

Voyantis: There IS an Adeptus Mechanicum outpost in this very system, who are dedicated to studying the stars, or at the very least ONE star. Perhaps they can identify some of these more unusual systems, from the description of the primary? Astropath Sol’ar: Let’s avoid involving anybody else, or they might beat us to it. Voyantis: If it was EASY to make your fortune in the Koronus Expanse everybody would be doing it. 

It’s Father Vorn, of all people, that helps us narrow down one of the possibilities - battlefleet rumours of a system with massive gravity tides and fleets of wrecked ships, named the Processional of the Damned.

Not exactly a healthy place to take the Reverent Exhumation, but it’s a start. Lord-Captain Falline von Kelleron has a good long sit-down with all the charts and after many hours and many cups of quality recaff, and calling in some of the older and more experienced crewmembers for a chat, starts finding some correlations in the database.

Voyantis: It’s starting to look like we’ll just have to follow these navigational routiers and see where we end up. Sol’ar: The problem is that some of these systems are almost guaranteed death! And/Or Imperial Inquisition!

A good point - one of these systems had any actual information thoroughly redacted, and stamped with ][ Innocentiae Nihil Probat ][ - ‘Innocence Proves Nothing’.

After much frustration, we actually determine the likely whereabouts of the lost human colony of Cinderhall  - the AdMech had some records about systems in the Expanse with any level of technology, even if they never got around to acting on it. Hopefully we can still impress the locals with our orbit-to-ground propaganda cathedral, and bring them into the Imperial fold and von Kelleron money extractor.

And with one located, Voyantis can try and deduce which of the data entries are closest to that lost colony in space. Rak’kun will probably have to set up some intravenous caffeine for us, but working together we can actually start deciphering which system is which, where they are in the Expanse, and pick which one has the best incredible profit vs. horrible death odds. Given at least one of the systems is deep in the Rifts of Hecaton, ‘chance of horrible death’ is a large number.

Sol’ar: That does explain the gravity riptides. Voyantis: Yes, that would be all the neutron stars!

The planet that looks most like a lovely place to set up an estate or holiday home is placed neatly between the Ork empire of the ‘Undred ‘Undred Teef and Winterscale’s Realm, so any information we have is probably out of date by now. A few of the entries were so corrupted that even with our best efforts we couldn’t locate them on the charts of the Expanse. 

And although it’s in a neighborhood best known as the Accursed Demense, Cinderhall looks the most promising place for our future capital. Now we just have to get there. With known warproutes in turmoil, we first need to find a safe route to the agriworld of Ntharis before heading out any further. As an added bonus, reestablishing the main food supply routes for the Koronus Expanse is pretty important.

(versatile thing, the Leman Russ battletank - given the current state of the Expanse they might want to unwrap that cannon soon)

Not that our efforts so far have gone very well, if the amount of crayon marks, coffee stains, and colourful pins on the navigation table are any indication.

Sol’ar: This one’s HERE because of this, this one's HERE because of THIS. WHO LABELLED THESE. Lord-Captain Falline: *sitting to one side with her head in her hands* Rimwards. RIMWARDS. That’s COREWARDS

Of course the FIRST thing we have to do is find out who currently holds the shipping contracts between Ntharis and Footfall, and how desperate they’re getting. Some basic schmoozing by our Lord-Captain, assisted by Voyantis’ extensive knowledge of business contracts, ensures we can make quite a lucrative deal in return for revised navigation information to Ntharis. And when we get to Ntharis mere days later, charm-bomb the planetary governor to make equally profitable deals at that end too. 

Voyantis: Paid twice 🙂

That’s the plan, anyway. It doesn’t quite work out that way largely due to the same turmoil in the Warp that precipitated this entire mess in the first place. We run aground on a perceptual reef in the Empyrean - more a sudden breakaway in the trackless desert as Voyantis perceives it - and the fracture in reality tears great gouges out of the hull of the Reverent Exhumation.

Voyantis: *wince* Well, there's a reason that they call THAT warpstorm the God-Emperor’s Scourge.

Although the fact that the Scourge, a fracture in space-time many lightyears long, has been shunted parsecs to the left by whatever has churned up the Warp, is alarming just by itself. We still manage to get back to Footfall intact, with this important information.

Lord-Captain Falline Batataria Solar von Kelleron de Marcine y Rosas Navigator-Incumbent Amberkind Voyantis Father-Militant Halix Vorn Astropath-Transcendent Morda Sol’ar Magos-Explorator Rak’kun Vhal-Tor 9X

As the new command crew of the Reverent Exhumation, it’s really all non-stop work in our new roles. As soon as we get the running of the ship in order, we can have a closer look at our surroundings, and figure out where we are. Since we had been navigating the difficult warproutes of The Maw, between the Calixis Sector and the Koronus Expanse, it’s unlikely to be anywhere healthy.

At least we aren’t severely displaced in time, going by the astrogation measurements. Nobody wants to be a problem for the Ordo Chronos. The star system we’ve emerged in - Iota Severophorum as we determine later -  is lifeless, but even the initial scans detect the wrecks of two starship fleets - a xenos fleet orbiting one of the inner planets, and human ships around an outer one. Our Lord-Captain orders closer scrutiny of the latter.

It would appear it was a colonisation fleet, once, but even the more intact ones are cold, reactors long dead, and some of them are little more than clouds of wreckage. Our best guess is that they were hammered with some kind of chemical weapon torpedo. What written records we can find or recover are curiously reluctant about listing what they were actually transporting, although one notes that at least part of it was transferred from another ship in the convoy, because ‘it didn’t like being on the other ships’. If we transfer some of our own fuel across to the derelict, we might be able to get the engines restarted long enough to access the data-vaults. The problem is that none of our tenders are designed for that amount of fuel transfer in any reasonable amount of time. It might be easier to bring the data vaults across to our ship - although that could trigger security measures that wipe the vaults entirely. Amberkind checks through the Navigator’s records, and notes refueling records that imply the ship refueled from imperial battlefleets. The uncovers a refuelling umbilical, but doesn’t answer the question about what they were transporting that wasn’t colonists.

The cargo manifest unearthed for the awakened data vault reveals a long list of stuff looted by whoever attacked the fleet - and a concealed cargo chamber that still contains a locked cargo container lacking any shipping numbers. 

Sol’ar and Voyantis can’t detect any sign of warp taint on the container, but the issue with the mystery cargo sounds more like a techpriest problem anyway. We pass it on to our Magos-Explorator, who can also say that the metal box contains more metal, and seems safe? He delegates opening the box to an adept, and retreats behind a blast barrier just in case.

It contains power armour. Human-scale power armour, apparently with a machine spirit opinionated enough that it complains about transport options. After some testing, this is found to be true: the power armor’s machine spirit is so picky that it will only properly activate when equipped to the Lord-Captain herself.

GM: Bonus, it has a Bitchin’ Fur collar! Falline: Ooh, nice!

Sol’ar can also give her report to the Lord-Captain, regarding the state of communications with the Imperium. What Astropathic chatter the choir can detect is fragmentary, but a lot of it seems to deal with whatever massive warp phenomena precipitated our current situation.

GM: It’s not the worst-case scenario - you can, at least, still detect the Astronomicon.

Which isn't easy at the best of times, given the Eye of Terror is just ONE of the warpstorms between us and Holy Terra. Once Navigator Voyantis’ examination of the Empyrean is complete, he elects to present his report diplomatically. Conveniently it’s the Feast Day of Saint Drusus Triumphant, where the faithful celebrate his triumph over the Calyx Expanse as he did, with a meal of bread, water and salt. Since Voyantis is hosting, the grain is grown on the House’s continental holdings on Hesiod's Wake, the salt from the dry oceans of Maccabeus Quintus, and the water from the cometary halo of Sol. 

Magos Rak'kun: *calculating the cost of the water, alone* +++electronic spluttering+++ Voyantis: And the poppyseeds have been genesmithed to produce an amusing little psychotropic that I’m sure you’ll enjoy. Astropath Morda Sol’ar: We’re being Wined and Dined by a Navigator House. The news is bad.

The pleasant pink fog is probably helpful, given the decorations in Voyantis’ chambers, which resemble nothing more than a gilded ossuary, and whatever news the Navigator has to impart.

Voyantis: In the days before Unification, the techno-barbarians of the Panpacific Empire used a beast of burden called a ‘khe-mell’. Apparently they were five meters tall and spat acid. I’ve also heard that people smoked them in the manner of lho-sticks, but I suspect that is purely myth. I mention this because one of their nicknames was ‘ships of the desert’, and this is relevant to the way I envision the Immaterium. I perceive it as trackless desert, much like those around Hive Tarsus on Scintilla. Have you ever been to Hive Tarsus? No? I don’t blame you. Anyway - I see it as a desert, with all the threats such a waste contains - mud flats, deadly predators, and of course sandstorms. And I regret to say that the ‘horizon’ is filled with the biggest sandstorms I have ever seen or heard of.

Voyantis can place our whereabouts on the chart of the Koronus Expanse - we’ve been pushed further into the Expanse than intended, and are alarmingly close to the Screaming Vortex, a warpstorm that has expanded far beyond its previous limits. Behind us the only safe passage between the warpstorms is entirely consumed by this new violent disturbance.

At least our intended destination, Footfall, the first outpost of Imperial presence in the Koronus Expanse, has yet to be engulfed. We should probably pick our way back across the surging Warp, and reconnect with civilization. Or what passes for it in the Koronus Expanse..

Voyantis: Imagine what would have happened if we’d left Port Wander a day later. Sol’ar: The only reason we made it through the Maw is our ship's exceptional drive system. Lord-Captain von Kelleron: I suppose that was the ship telling us we need to leave NOW. Magos, why didn’t you tell us what the machine spirits were saying? Magos Rak-kun: …. +++the calibrations!+++

Using an X-wing model as a stand-in for the Reverent Exhumation on the starmap.

Sol’ar OoC: Bags not the astromech slot. Rak’kun OoC: That would be me. Father Vorn OoC: Technically it’d be the Navigator. Voyantis OoC: At least R2D2 is competent. Vorn OoC: He also gets shot a lot.

We arrive at Footfall without further disaster, although the navigation is much more difficult than usual. We start the ritual d***-waving contest to get ourselves a priority berth, under the watchful eye of the kilometers-tall macrostatue of the God-Emperor that crowns Footfall Station. At least one frigate of Battlefleet Koronus is currently in dock being repaired, but the damage is minor. There’s only one other Rogue Trader currently in port, as far as we can tell, and that is one of the ships belonging to the Winterscale dynasty.

At least we don’t need much in the way of supplies - we were fully stocked when we left Port Wander. We’ll still need to meet the Governor of Footfall - it’s the expected thing to do, even if Rogue Traders outrank him.

Lord-Captain von Kelleron: There’s no reason not to be polite. I’ll organise my entourage and make sure everybody is in their most formal gear. Magos Rak’kun: I’m not sure the bannerpole on your backpack will fit through the door. Astropath Sol’ar: I’m sure the Governor’s doors will be big enough.

The Lord-Captain affects an air of nonchalance about the state of the known warp routes - all of them impassable. We made such good time getting here that we're actually ahead of most of the news, and in a very good position to find new, safer paths around the Expanse.

Governor: I’m sure it will all blow over, as such things do.

(Given the Cicatrix Maledictum has split the galaxy in half, and will rage for decades, and the Imperium only survives the next few years thanks to two loyalist Primarchs coming back from the dead, this is unreasonably optimistic.)

Father Vorn drops by the Drusian Brotherhood on the station, and recruits a Sister-Hospitaller of the Order of the Ebon Rose to the Reverent Exhumation. He also successfully implants a set of mechadendrites that Rak’kun acquires, but fails to explain exactly how a priest knows how to install cybernetic limbs. Voyantis makes polite overtures towards the Navigators serving the Winterscale ship, but is rebuffed with some staggeringly rude comments about the Voyantis House’s skull obsession. 

Dramatis Personae -

Rogue Trader Heir-Apparent Falline Batataria Solar von Kelleron de Marcine y Rosas

Navigator Amberkind Voyantis

Father-Militant Halix Vorn

Astropath-Transcendent Morda Sol’ar

Magos-Explorator Rak’kun Vhal-Tor 9X

The first half-hour of the session was spent discussing tax reform, and the option of hunting billionaires for sport, but let's move away from the problem of the uber-rich in the grimdark present, to the problem of the uber-rich in the grimdark future.

We’ve reached the command deck of the Reverent Exhumation, finally.

Heiress Falline: Make sure you have all reloaded your weapons. Magos Rak’Kun: +++Good idea.+++ *to his Servo-skull* +++Murray, another bolter clip, please.+++

The armsmen at the security door are happy to let us through into the command sanctum, since we have the heir to the dynasty with us, but they probably regret this, since there’s an uninvited guest on the bridge, and he’s been busy.

Red, Horned Individual: YESSS! More skulls! More Blood! ALL SHALL BLEED FOR THE BLOOD GOD. Astropath Sol’ar: Ah, a Mormon.  Fleshhounds: *rabid baying* Falline: Wonderful. Bloodletter: SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE Navigator Voyantis: *passes out from what he will insist later is sheer outrage* Father Vorn OoC: ‘No, the skulls are all mine!’

Having a daemonic avatar of violent murder loose on the ship, is, by most standards, a bad thing. That it brought along a pair of murderpuppies as well, is worse. It certainly explains all the decapitated bodies scattered around the decking. Father Vorn strides forward, attempting to dispel the daemon’s influence over the surviving armsmen with helpful yelling. 

Father Vorn: Steel your souls and hear me! This voice in your minds is not your master. This fear is not your faith. You are servants of the God-Emperor, not puppets of the witch. Cast it out. Cling to His light. Hold fast to your names, your oaths, and your duty. Bite your tongues bloody if you must, but deny the intruder purchase in your thoughts. You are His. Not this thing. Throw it off!

If Amberkind wasn’t currently passed out from atavistic terror he could no doubt tell the others more about this particular flavour of Neverborn, but at least our astropath recalls that these daemons loathe psykers with a passion, and are especially resistant to psychic attacks. That does limit our options, since they’re also especially deadly in close combat.

Falline: Armsmen! Rally to your Trader! GM: Better be real careful pronouncing that ‘d’.

At least one of the armsmen recovers. Sol’ar’s psychic scream actually stuns the Neverborn, and Magos Rak’kun’s bolter round explodes enough of the first fleshhound that it dissipates into the warp. The navigator recovers enough to injure the Bloodletter with his archeotech pistol, and Father Vorn rams his chainsaw down the throat of the second fleshhound and revs it enough times it turns into a cloud of boiling ichor, and follows this by charging the Bloodletter.

Picking through the human wreckage after Father Vorn’s impressive dismemberment of the daemon, we learn that Falline has inherited the Warrant of Trade. At least the presence of her aunt’s head in the pile around the command throne indicates she fought well enough the daemon regarded her with a measure of respect, along with our Master of Arms and most of the armsmen assigned to the bridge. 

At least we haven’t lost many of the wider crew - most of the casualties were on the command deck. Which is in character for Khornate daemons - it went straight for the head. Although it does mean the ship has a major problem - with the entire command crew slain by the daemon, all the highest ranking potential replacements are on loan to the von Kelleron dynasty from other organizations, and none of them are vassals of the House. We have an urgent need to assert our authority.

Falline hurries to assume the throne, figuratively and literally. 

Father Vorn: Can we at least check the command throne for warp taint first? Lord-Captain Falline von Kelleron: I have to assume the role immediately. Father Vorn: With alacrity, yes! Not with rash immediacy!

At least Falline resists the obvious connection to Khorne’s realm when she sits on the command throne and attempts to address the crew. Rak’kun has some repairs to do first. 

Magos Rak’kun: +++Perform the Rite of Sacred Quiescence and Second Awakening. If the augur-spirit remains sullen, apply incense, percussive correction, and escalate to the Third Litany of Apology+++

So does Father Vorn, although he’s working on the surviving armsmen.

Sol’ar: That voidsman resisted my psychic scream better than the daemons did  - he has impressive willpower.

The amount of damage to the communication lines means the bridge can’t communicate with the Navigator eyrie, to see if it’s safe to bring the Reverent Exhumation out of the warp. Vorn finds a maintenance servitor that hasn’t been violently disassembled, manages to get its alcove open, and it wanders across to assist Rak’kun in the repairs. Being a servitor, it probably hasn’t even realised he isn’t the usual techpriest, but its cable-spooler and laser-welder are invaluable.

Falline summons all officers to the bridge, brings the next shift to work, and demands status reports for all sections of the ship. Our astropath confirms that the daemonic taint is fading from the bridge, but Vorn gets a few missionaries up here with censors and chanting anyway.

Falline addresses the surviving officers and the rest of the crew.

Lord-Captain von Kelleron: I, Falline Batataria Solar von Kelleron de Marcine y Rosas, take command of this ship in the event of the passing of my predecessor. I trust you to do your duty to the Ship, the Family, and the Imperium. Officers and Crew: HAIL THE LORD-CAPTAIN. Lord-Captain von Kelleron: This day has come earlier than expected, but I am prepared.

Amberkind’s uncle is still alive, but sounds a little distressed, as he gives the order to re-enter realspace. Alas, that is the last order he ever gives - the warpstorm that precipitated all this was more than even his mutant biology could survive. His body will not be recycled with the rest of the dead crew.

Newly Promoted Navigator-Incumbent Amberkind Voyantis: I should think not! The House will require his bones, fully intact! Father Vorn: That, and we don’t recycle the mutant. Voyantis: *narrows his three eyes*

Rak’Kun will be getting a promotion too, although his mostly a process of updating the ship’s database, but there is some hurried data-transfer between others vying for the title before logical consensus is reached. Rak’Kun’s predecessor has his hard-storage memories and augmentics properly interred in the ship’s Cenotaph before his organic material is processed. At least his remains were easier to identify in the human offal scattered around the bridge - all those bionic enhancements threaded through his flesh.

Father Vorn and Astropath Sol’ar are natives of the void, and propose a course of action to ensure the transfer of power goes as smoothly as possible.

**1. Appoint an acting Master-at-Arms immediately.**

The former Master-at-Arms is dead. That is dangerous. On a ship with clan loyalties, hidden spaces, and a massive crew, internal security cannot be headless.

The appointment should be framed as temporary until the dynasty confirms a permanent officer. This avoids insult, while keeping order.

**2. Conduct a loyalty census of senior ship factions.**

Not a paranoid purge. A ritual audit. Very important distinction.

*Bridge crew. Enginarium cabals. Navigator’s staff. Astropathic choir. Auto-Temple clergy. Lance-clan. Armsmen. Reclamation facility overseers. Manufactorum masters. Clan elders.*

Each should renew their oath. 

**3. Investigate the cause of the incursion**

Was it a Geller Field failure? Warp route hazard? Sabotage? Possession brought aboard by cargo, pilgrim, relic, prisoner, or crew? A flaw in the ancient Miloslav warp engine? Something awakened in the ship’s hidden spaces? Something linked to the previous Lord-Captain personally?

Well all have a lot of work to do, before we can take a closer look at the star system around us.

Father Vorn - Lead shipwide mourning rites or the dead, but include Mechanicus observances for machine-servants and component casualties. The previous Lord-Captain and retinue should be remembered as having “stood between the ship and damnation.”

Magos Rak'kun. - Produce a damage and readiness report: Hull and systems status. Geller Field status. Warp engine status. Auspex integrity. Weapon readiness. Crew losses. Morale risks. Servitor/reclamation status. Any systems behaving “out of character.”

Navigator Voyantis - Prepare a Translation Concordance Report, including: Intended destination. Actual emergence point. Route abnormalities. Warp weather. A potential route to the nearest safe port.

Astropath Sol’ar - Conduct a Soul-Echo and Signal Audit, including, Lingering psychic residue from the incursion. Signs of possession, psychic predation, or daemonic imprint. Any astropathic traffic in-system. Any distress calls. Any repeating signals. Whether the dead Lord-Captain or retinue left psychic impressions. Whether the system has a “presence.” The Astropath should also refrain from sending messages until ordered, unless there is immediate threat.

Understanding that whilst the Lord Captain has prioritised investigation and exploitation of wherever we are, we should attempt to make port as soon as possible.

A) To legitimise the Lord Captains ascension in the records of the Administratum.

B) Recruit specialists for the good order and operation of the Reverent Exhumation.

C) Investigate opportunities for the von Kelleron dynasty and the Glory of the Emperor.

Ayva, artist and artificier of the Rebellion, was commissioned for the group portait of the Bell Council in the Silver Collegium, all the while complaining about other paintings that she "has" to work on, despite them all being personal projects. With Civilla, Shimza and Portia keeping her stocked in tea, pastries and watered wine out of genuine sympathy.

And even during the early weeks, her portraits of Queen Abrogail II, required under Barzallai Thrune's proclaimations, were an important income stream for the Ghosts of Kintargo.

The eventual museum dedicated to the overthrow of the Thrunes will contain many large-scale paintings of some of the more dramatic or amusing events of our efforts.

Paintings will include:

'Remembrance of Wax' 'Good Evening Fellow Officers' 'Tyrant Tirade' 'Temple Bells' 'The Slaying of a Dragon' 'The Song' 'Fall & Redemption' 'Opera Diabolic' 'One fell in the Orchestra Pit' 'Go to Hell' 'The Coffee House' 'Vulgar Curiosities' 'Moving Mountains' 'Under the Sea' 'Don't mention the Skeleton' 'Tortoise De Grandeur'

Guide to the School, Orphanage, and Adventuring House of Kintargo

The Silver Garden Collegium is a new institution in Kintargo: a boarding school, an orphan-house, and the seed of an adventuring company. In public, it exists to shelter vulnerable children, educate them to a standard fit for the upper gentry, and train the most talented among them for disciplined service. In private practice, it aims to raise capable, loyal, and well-rounded people rather than simply producing hirelings with polished boots.

1. Founding Vision

The Collegium reflects Civilla Alazario’s best public qualities: scholarship, diplomacy, poise, and a sincere commitment to redemption and uplift. House Alazario prizes force of arms, knowledge, and diplomacy, and the Collegium translates those values into a gentler civic form. Here, knowledge teaches, diplomacy places children in safe homes, and force of arms stands watch rather than ruling the hall.

As a follower of Nocticula, Civilla gives the house an ethic of second chances. Children are not asked to prove they deserve safety. Staff are expected to preserve dignity, cultivate talent, and separate discipline from humiliation.

Founding principles

Provide a safe learning environment before anything else.

Find stable placements and adoption matches for children who are not meant to remain in house for life.

Offer an education comparable to that of the upper gentry, including letters, numbers, etiquette, history, rhetoric, and practical lore.

Nurture exceptional pupils into Collegium cadets, field agents, and adventurers for hire loyal to the Silver Garden.

2. The Campus

The first campus is a compact urban hall built for mixed use. It is large enough to house wards, teach classes, host patrons, store gear, and train a first generation of cadets, yet small enough that everyone still knows the sound of everyone else’s footsteps.

3. How the Collegium Works at Inception

At birth, the Collegium is not yet a grand academy. It is a disciplined charitable house with excellent bones. It can feed, house, wash, teach, and protect its charges; maintain proper records; receive patrons and applicants; and begin the earliest stage of cadet development. Its first victories are quiet ones: an orderly breakfast, a warm bed, a child placed in a safe home, a lesson taught without shame, and a frightened newcomer who sleeps through the night.

Placement and adoption

The Collegium does not assume every child should remain within its walls forever. The Chaplain-Matron, Registrar-Steward, and Founder-Patron work together to identify stable guardians, foster arrangements, apprenticeships, and adoption matches. The goal is not merely to empty beds. It is to place children where they can flourish without being swallowed by danger, neglect, or debt.

Cadet path

The cadet track is deliberately modest at first. Older wards and select recruits begin with bearing, literacy, observation, first aid, watch routine, safe handling of equipment, and civic responsibility. The house is raising future agents of the Silver Garden, but it does so by first raising dependable people.

4. Governance and Chain of Command

Civilla and Shimza stand above the day-to-day structure as founders. Ordinary governance belongs to the Bell Council, a compact body made up of the heads of each in-house function. This keeps the Collegium nimble and ensures the people closest to the work can actually shape it.

Founders Civilla Alazario: Founder-Patron. Public face, benefactor, recruiter, magical overseer, and final voice on mission and expansion. Shimza Tismanescu: Founder-Warden. Healer, magical adviser, practical second, and steward of the house’s emergency and welfare standards.

In a Kintargo still tasting the first sharp sweetness of freedom, the House of Two Curtains stands open again.

Its facade is modest by design. No silver trim, no grandiose Chelish heraldry, no gleaming invitation for suspicion. The building wears painted timber, warm lantern glass, and a sign of two heavy stage curtains, one drawn back and one still closed. Locals had long joked that the first curtain was for the censors, and the second was for everyone with taste.

During Thrune’s rule, it looked respectable enough to pass a patrol’s bored glance. Now, in liberated Kintargo, that same restraint feels less like fear and more like a private joke that has survived the hangman.

Inside, the playhouse is larger than it first appears. The foyer smells of polished wood, candlewax, old velvet, ink, perfume, and spiced wine. Playbills cover one wall, some newly printed, others carefully preserved from before Barzilai Thrune’s boot came down on the city’s music. A few are still marked with censor’s stamps, now left visible as trophies. The main hall is built around a shared stage, broad enough for opera, debate, farce, masked dance, and the sort of political satire that now draws laughter instead of arrests. Two curtains frame it. The first is the public curtain: bright, theatrical, welcoming. The second hangs farther back, darker and finer, promising that some performances are not meant for every pair of eyes.

Terzo Porcinus is often found near the front of the house, glass in hand, voice already halfway into a story. A human bard of Shelyn and a master of oratory, he treats conversation as an art form and silence as a material to be sculpted. His salon, The Seven-Feather Cup, is filled with good wine, lively argument, and small signs of devotion hidden in plain sight: painted songbirds, prismatic glass, a miniature glaive above a private mirror, and music threaded through speech even when no instrument is playing.

Rajira Ononda moves through the other half of the house with quieter gravity. A vishkanya singer of exquisite control, she makes even casual words feel rehearsed by candlelight. Her salon, The Honeyed Sting, is more intimate: low lamps, gold-black embroidery, perfumed air, and wasp motifs worked so delicately into the decor that most guests notice only beauty. Those with sharper instincts notice the exits, the mirrors, and the way every servant seems to remember names.

Now that Barzilai is gone, the House no longer has to whisper every truth. Still, old habits linger in the architecture. There are doors that do not announce themselves. Corridors bend in ways that confuse strangers. Storerooms contain more than props and costumes. Beneath the laughter and music lies the memory of a place that once protected artists, dissidents, lovers, informants, fugitives, and fools brave enough to speak beautifully while tyrants listened.

By day, it hosts rehearsals, lessons, wine tastings, fittings, poetry readings, and arguments about whether opera is improved or ruined by politics. By night, the House becomes one of freed Kintargo’s living hearts. Veterans of the rebellion sit beside nobles trying to look less nervous than they are. Students crowd the cheap seats. Former censors drink in corners and pretend not to understand the jokes. The applause often comes too hard, too sudden, as though the city is still surprised it is allowed to make noise.