Chapter 14: Raids, Wine and Power.

***

I see the happiness in their eyes, the eagerness in their hearts. They know Mother isn’t long for the world, but they are happier to see me here. I don’t know how I feel about it. Mother’s cough has been getting worse, I have to help her clear her lungs lately. She only keeps going with her lessons, she wont ever admit to me that she thinks she doesn’t have much more time, she only tries to keep teaching me all she can. I don’t remember my own mother much, but, I do remember Mother, she is always the ever present figure. Please let her pass easily, but please allow me to continue learning what she has to teach me. 

Grant us yet another day…

***

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Harvest, D.83 Lucas Bertholot

     “There’s talk of the goblins on the bluffs returning back to their old ways.” Michéle sat down at the desk in the middle of the Baron’s study, the chair creaking as he put his weight down.

     “What is the significance of this Michéle? The goblins have always been there, they’ve never caused enough damage to warrant a legitimate response.” Lucas did even look up from the paper he was writing on, from what Michéle could see it was some sort of dictation for the upcoming festival of the Forgotten family.

     “Only that word among the guards and the travelers on the road. They tell me that for many months the number of fatalities on the roads from the south dropped a staggering amount. Now reports say that the numbers are creeping back up.” He said tapping his gauntleted fingers on the hardwood of the desktop. 

     “I’m assuming you have theories, things you want to follow up on?” Lucas spoke, he was still scribbling away at the paper, he seemed to only be half listening. 

     “Yes Sir, I wanted to pick your brain about them. I never grew up in the City, unlike you. What were the goblins like?” He asked, removing the heavy armor from his hands, he saw that small crease on Lucas’ brow. A subtle sign he was getting annoyed with some noise.

     “As long as I can remember, from what my Father could remember, and so on.” He stopped writing and finally looked up at his Chancellor. “The goblins have always been a primitive raiding culture that did little to no damage to the economy of the city. Yes the citizens would like us to deal with them, but I am unwilling to do so as it is an expense the city need not take upon ourselves. The citizens tell tall tales of them being bloodthirsty little monsters that care for nothing other than the blood of man. I’ve seen them, they are not that impressive or really even that threatening in appearance.” He crossed his arms, waiting.

     “I see where you are going with this, but to the citizens at least, perception is reality.” Michéle said cautiously, beating his way around the bush.

     “So you think I should just send the guard out there, spend weeks if not months hunting them all down. Or have my military done the same thing?” Lucas snapped back. “You seem far too concerned about this issue, this isn’t the first time you’ve brought this up.”

     “No sir, only that we may want to look into why the raids died down for a while and see why they are coming back. Maybe see if there is a resource to exploit, to use your words.” He spoke with a gesture of his hands, the Huronian military always talked with their hands. It was as if he rolled his eyes with his hands.

     “Let's hear what your idea is, you wouldn’t bring this up if you didn’t have something else to accompany it.” Lucas sighed, setting his pen down.

     “I have three theories, the first being that they were in conflict with another unknown player that kept them busy and away from the roads.” His days spent as the Huronian Marshall speaking for him.

     “So a small scale conflict.” Lucas responded with a wave of his hand.

     “The second is that there may have been a leadership change that went against the current modus operandi.” 

     “That seems speculative at best.” He paused for a moment, thinking. He made a small grumbling noise as he leaned back in his chair. “Michéle, do the guards describe them as anything other than monsters?” One of his brows raised as he looked back at the man.

     “Tricky, cleverer than they look, when they talk it is hard to distinguish them from background noise, proficient ambush setters…” He said with a wave of his hand as he went through the list.

     “Do you think we are underestimating them? Do you think they have the capability of challenging their own traditions and tactics?” He said getting up and grabbing a book off the shelf behind him, coming back he set the book down in front of Michéle. A chapter titled, Challenges of the Wilds of the Namoux. Lucas had made him read this book many seasons ago, this chapter in question talked about the various things one could run into out on the route south of Glaion. It didn’t speak much of the goblins.

     “Without speaking to one directly, it’s hard to say, though you seem to have taken an interest in this theory Sir.”

     “To a small degree, yes. If they are capable of doing that, then we may have been ignoring them for too long. At this point we may be able to mold them into something useful to the city. If there is a change in leadership that isn’t as hostile, and more self sufficient without raiding, then that is a culture we can assimilate into the city and expand the economy and influence of Glaion.” A small smile began to creep across Lucas’ face.

     “You really do try and think many dozens of steps ahead Luke.” A skeptical look on his face.

     “Comes with the title. What is your third theory?”

     “That they found a source of sustenance that didn’t require them to prey on the travelers and that source has now run out.” 

     “All three of your theories have a certain amount of validity to them. Though how did you come to these conclusions?”

     Michéle paused for a long moment before speaking, “On the eastern edge of Huron there is another goblinoid culture called the Mistwalkers. At least in Huron they mostly keep to themselves, but they are on friendly terms with the city. We had enough contact with them to see these situations arise. Them being a part of the same overall species, I thought that maybe they would be somewhat similar.”

     “I’ve never heard the King talk about the Mistwalkers.”, He said as we filed away a mental note to ask the king about them later.

     “You wouldn’t, they are only versed on the Consul level of government. They are not a significant area of interest to the court. Known about, more of a hand wave than anything of actual significance economically, socially, or politically.” Lucas cocked his head at the jump in speech, the eastern city had a habit of skipping over words when they didn’t think they were needed. 

     “There is a vague similarity to this then. What do you want to do about verifying your theories?” He said, pulling a fresh sheet of paper out to write some of the conversation down.

     “I would like to send a detachment of hunters to go watch them from a distance and report back to me.” Michéle said quickly, clearly having thought about the resources he’d want to send before he walked into the study.

     “No. You are not sending an entire detachment for this, you may only send two or three, not twenty.” He said flatly, scribbling notes down.

     “Are you concerned about the pay of a few guardsmen?” Michéle asked with an irritated tone.

     “I am worried about what this looks like to the citizens. I do not want them to think that we are sending off a significant number of resources for this, to then return with no obvious results.”

     There was a long enough pause in the conversation for Lucas to look up at the Chancellor, a look that just spoke, ‘well what is it’. “I see, then could we perhaps hire a professional?”

     “Whom?”

     “A hunter from the Sightless is in the city. If I would be allowed to hire him, then a discrete resolution for verification could be achieved.” Michéle was still beating around the bush, not giving Lucas all the details, he knew he would want to know everything about this if he got talking.

     “You know, let's change the subject from that savage backwater. I’ve heard enough of this speculation.” Lucas waved his hand in dismissal, “Fine. Michéle, hire out one of the hunters from the guild if it will soothe your paranoia. I don’t see them as such a risk that they are going to make any meaningful impact beyond distressing the citizens.” He spoke with a finality that promptly ended the line of inquiry. 

     He sighed and folded his hands together, his eyes unfocused as if seeing something off in the distance. “What worries me is that despite us building such a careful partnership with the Caliphate, they always seem to try and undermine the Federation.”

     Michéle had just uncorked the vintage Lucas had brought up from below the desk. “What is going on now?” He said with a heavy breath. “It’s always something with Zybtine… Even in the City they always start arguments with the merchants. Every brawl in the taverns, somehow they are involved.” Swirling the dark red liquor in his glass, he continued. “What issue has their Sultan started now? A tariff that was too high? Another diplomat caught with their pants down?” He said with a chuckle.

     “A military skirmish along one of Huron’s southern border outposts.” Michéle froze, glass held halfway to his lips.

     “Is there a new war on the horizon?” He said hesitantly.

     “Unknown, I hope not.” Michéle could see that a few of the Barons' dark hair had gone gray. He had known that Lucas had been dealing with a tenuous situation. 

     “What happened? I haven’t heard any gossip on the streets about it. Why didn’t you bring this up before, we should be preparing the City.” Michéle stated with gritted teeth. Already running through tasks to prepare the city for assault. Which commanders to put where, where fortifications were going to need to be. Chokepoints, and kill zones to establish. 

     “Well, from what I have been told, Huron is doing its damnedest to keep information from getting out. They don’t want to appear weak to Mhuzelt, gods know they want nothing more than to take the City as well as the Caliphate.” Lucas pursed his brows together and poured himself a draft of the liquor as well.

     “Mhuzelt would have to fight its way through quite a bit to even get close to the city.” Lucas held his hand up and silenced Michéle.

     “Regardless of dubious allies, the border issue started when the Huron marshal sent a garrison to secure a trade route to the iron mines in the Lamia outpost along the Slash. It put the outpost on edge, and they sought to make good on a bogus promise made by that ambassador they had stationed in the hills east of the outpost.” Letting the statement hang in the air.

     “You say had… what happened to the ambassador?” Michéle sighed, knowing full well where this was likely going. 

     “We don’t know, the ambassador returned with his hunting party dead. We don’t really know what happened beyond the Caliphate's voice of reason, they are now not there.” Lucas took a deep drink, draining half the glass. “Well the citizens of the outpost blamed the garrison for the ambassador's death. I have conflicting reports about them being in the area, some claiming that a small scouting party was in the hunting grounds. A few others that are more substantiated, stating that they were putting down a bandit raid on the outskirts of the outpost that had tried to take one of the iron shipments.” 

     “So the citizens, what?” He said with a raised eyebrow, shaking his head.

     “A full blown riot is what happened, that bled out into the surrounding areas, they burned down the ambassador's house. Set fire to garrisons camp. A massive street brawl that injured a large number of bystanders. The garrison saw fit to quell the riot, and imprison the instigators.” He paused, and added with a flourish of his glass “Well whom they assumed are the instigators.”

     “So the garrison fulfilled its end of the treaty then, the Huron military was supposed to act as the policing force for something like this. Beyond that, the riot had caused collateral to the garrison itself. Why did they take prisoners?” He asked.

     “The Marshal of the military in the Slash stated it was so that they could hand the culprits over to the Caliphate for trial. They had assumed they were also involved in the death of the ambassador.” Lucas was starting to show the worry in his voice.

     “Hold on, Luke.” Michéle said with a hand raised, “What was this bogus promise?”

     “An interesting, yet annoying situation. The citizens of the outpost were supposedly offered citizenship into the Caliphate, despite that going directly against the treaty.” He pointed to a map behind him that showed the territory in question. The Slash had been a contested area to the Federation and the Zybtine Caliphate after the revolution. The caliphate had wanted it for its rich mineral deposits, though they were still beholden to the Federation for their aid in the war. Thus it led to a neutral zone between the two nations that served more as international territory where the agreement forced any settlement in the area to become a part of the Federation if they wanted actual citizenship somewhere. Though this same treaty still allowed free movement for Caliphate enterprises to utilize the resources of the area uncontested. 

     “So how did this become a border dispute, and not just a trial for causing civil unrest?” Michéle asked.

     “When the Caliphate sent a battalion to quell a ‘rebellion’ in the outpost.” He emphasized rebellion with a roll of the eyes. “They had doubled down on the claim of the outpost to become their citizens rather than the Federation. So long story short, here we are. A now hot military conflict over some rather obscure events and a few empty promises. I know for a fact that Huron was paying a king’s ransom for all that iron, not to mention the amount of protection that garrison was offering.” He set down his glass, and steepled his hands. “My question is this. Who had promised them that? Who had actually killed that ambassador? Finally, I doubt that Lamia honestly wanted to join a nation that has a history of starting pogroms against non-humans. So why the interest, why a full blown riot?”

     “It does seem odd now that you mention it.” Michéle hummed in thought, putting his heavy gauntlet back on, he held it against his chin. “How goes the wine war Luke?”

     Lucas is a well known winemaker in the Glaion region, his vineyard Chateau Carvincia had a bountiful crop this year. Lucas described this year as an unprecedented usable yield, unheard of in the last few generations for all of the vineyards. His market was a majority in the city for the longest time, only in the last few years had he had any real competition. 

     “That monster Lafae backed out of the deal we had made at the last minute to work with the back stabbing mayor in Port De Renard. All that preparation, all that setup work to buy out his vineyard, and he just backs out to sell it at half the price to that vinegar swilling mayor!” He yelled out.

     Jaque de Lafae had been one of the biggest competitors to Lucas’ wine empire in Glaion proper. Lucas was always hands off when it came to his politics and business, though many called his separation of business and state. Lucas never used his position to elevate his business, as he had the Merchants Guild review any law regarding the industry. All those review laws then were reviewed by the Consuls and deemed whether the law would unfairly benefit his own business. Michéle often poked fun at him for this, though he often retorted back that he wanted the merits of his wine to be the determining factor. 

     “I thought that Lafae has signed a contract that barred him from doing so without a substantial loss.” Michéle asked. 

     “He did, though whatever Renard Wines had offered him clearly paid out the penalties involved. I already followed up on that after I heard about it, he paid the penalty to me, and laughed that Renard had paid enough for his vineyard that he still turned a profit on it.” He swirled the dark red wine in his glass idly and took a sip.

     “Why did you want to buy Lafae’s vineyard, I thought yours had produced an unchallengeable amount this year?” He uncorked a new bottle and poured himself another glass.

     “Yes” He said with a sigh, “I will be able to produce more than double what I did last year, but this crop of Merlot is much milder than what I would have liked. It still has its main components, but its tamer. I just know I’ll sell more volume this year, but I won’t be getting any accolades for this round.” 

     “I was hoping to buy Lafae’s vineyard to mix with mine for this year. He had a low yield, but his Cabernet was to die for. Rich and spicy, deep, a real transition to the pallet near the end.” Lucas huffed, disgruntled at the loss of his potential wine.

     “Why do you think your grapes were so tame this year?” Michéle prodded.

     “I think the crop spent most of its character fighting off the Blights early in the season.” He said flatly.

     “I heard about that infestation, I thought you had it handled quickly. Surely that shouldn’t have affected your crop so badly.” He said, trying to cheer Lucas up, though this seemed to have the opposite effect he had intended.

     “I did handle it quickly! The problem is that no matter how quickly you respond and burn those Blights to death, the crop is still going to suffer!” The heat in his words dying out a little as Lucas watched his chancellor recoil from his poor wording. “I apologize, I don’t mean to get angry. It has just been very frustrating.”

     “What do you mean?” He said, refilling his Baron’s glass for him.

     “I mean that I hear that question from all of my competitors, only they mock me for it. The crop suffers because the Blights made an appearance at a sensitive time, the grapes were just beginning to form their sugars to feed to the seeds. I imagine the plants saw it more fit to use that sugar to fix their wounds.” Lucas looked disheartened.

     “Surely the profits you are going to see from the increased sales should cheer you up! Besides that Blight dust should have also made a pretty amount of coin.”

     “Oh it did, that dust paid for all the extra hours I needed out of my workers to deal with it. Additionally I had to pay a few mages to purify the vineyard. So the problem ended up paying for itself.” Lucas scribbled something on his paper, sloppy for Lucas’ handwriting however.

     “I am looking forward to the profits though, I plan on spending it to expand the vineyard, and some of it to pay for the additional maintenance in the Artists Quarter. It is time to remove the old artwork and sell it off,” He curtailed the question from Michéle, with a quick addition. “The artists sign all their work, they get a portion of the proceeds, and in return their artwork is immortalized in someone's collection. The Quarter gets new blank canvases to work with every year. Only this year I want to gut out the old architecture and give them blank pieces to make it beautiful.”

     “I didn’t realize you spent your business profits on City affairs.” Michéle asked with a raised brow.

     “Many of the extra things I do beyond what the Taxation accounts for, I pay for personally.” He said matter of factly. 

     “To continue, I don’t want to talk about the city exchecking. I do suspect that the Blights were introduced to my Vineyard.” He said darkly.

     “Why, how would they do that? Do you have proof of this? Shall I investigate for you?” Michéle got up, ready to leave and begin his investigation immediately if ordered to. 

     “Sit back down, you may investigate it later if you wish. But, I don’t have proof. I only have a strange coincidence that the Blights showed up after I made my offer to Lafae, and that Renard had bought the contract out from under me. My vineyard was well groomed, no indication that Blights would appear. None of the usual signs, no white mold, no trellis of dead plants, no fog. They just appeared. It reeks of foul play to me, but…” He said with a wave of his hand “No definitive proof. Do I suspect Renard sabotaged my vineyard, yes. Do I think that Lafae might have sabotaged my vineyard to back out of the deal more easily, possibly. Maybe it was also another competitor like Stella or Rose de Voutette, also possible.”

     “They also knew my vineyard was due for an explosive crop yield, maybe they were envious of the amount of vines that came up this year, I do not know.”

     “I am sorry Michéle, I know I get carried away with the vineyard, was there something you came here originally for?” Lucas gestured to the bottle again, cocking his head. His mood calmed down from before.

     “That Guild is something else, Luke. I do not understand how they have so much pull over the city. To top that off, the city has been abuzz with rumors of some new member coming to the Glaion Chapter of the Guild. What is the big deal?” Michéle scratched his head, trying to wrap his head around the guild. He had always had a hard time separating their magic and the way they structure themselves. They were enigmatic to him, their naming conventions, their off jumps in rank.

     “That new member isn't exactly a new member at all. She is a God’s eye, she has been stationed out of the Huron and the Northern Wastes for some time, at least from what they have told me.” He said, tapping his fingers on the hardwood desk.

     “What's so special about her?” Michéle responded, knocking back the rest of his glass with a frown.

     “So far as I have been told, she is some kind of communications expert. Specializing in the transfer of sound and messages. Rumor has it, she established a new branch of magic that allows them to communicate over vast distances.” Michéle’s eyes lit up as Lucas continued. “Something the guild was never really able to figure out until she came along. Something to do with only transferring motion through air and not a physical transport of material.”

     “I’m not going to pretend I understand how their magic works. I am more than happy with the three spells I know.” he laughed.

     “Yeah, shatter, candleshot, and hold are quite useful indeed.” Lucas rolled his eyes with an unending amount of sarcasm. “You never shut up about when you can actually grab someone with that force magic of yours.” 

     “Oh come now, minimalism is a personality trait.” Michéle said with a smirk. “Beyond that, how vast of a distance are we talking?”

     Lucas ignored him for a few moments while he pondered something. Tapping his fingers on the table in a rhythmic pattern. “My question is; that the Guild made it very clear to me that she wants nothing to do with the public eye. I’m not sure about her, I know so very little about her from the dossier I demanded from them about her.” Michéle raised an eyebrow, the question on his face without having to say it “The God’s eyes are true prodigies Michéle. They are typically immensely powerful casters, they are actually the ones that hold open the transit portals inside the Federation.” 

     “I… didn’t know that. I thought the guild held them open collectively. I didn’t think they had only a few people holding them open at all times?” He finished the statement as a question, a sudden look of disbelief on his face. He thought back to the few times he attempted to join in a lesson at the Guild. Those portals were something else, like trying to stop a waterfall with a single bucket. 

     “Yeah, so I wanted more information about a potential big player in the city. Only issue is that all that dossier told me was that she was from Huron. Nothing about her upbringing, her parentage, any legal status, or even much beyond her name.” Lucas continued tapping the desktop as he spoke.

     “Which is?”

     “Odeza” Lucas ran his hand over his face, “That's about all I know.”

     “Criminal the Guild couldn’t pass up?” He postulated.

     “Possible, Maybe the Guild is ashamed of her for some reason, but sees the value in having her around?” 

     “The Guild isn’t really known for tolerating that type of thing well.” He paused, “Maybe she isn’t human? The last time I saw a criminal in with the Wayfares, they publicly executed him.”

     Lucas perked up at that a little “I hadn't thought of that, that’s possible! What if she isn’t human? Then what is she? From the records I do have, I have no reason to believe, yet. That they have been doctored at all. She is described as a young woman with very long hair, and bright green eyes. Though that isn’t much to go on…” He relaxed back into a familiar position, crossing his arms leaning his head back.

     “Her species aside, this long distance communication. I’m more interested in that at the moment Luke.” He set his glass down with a heavy thunk. 

     “Let me guess, you want to set up a system for the military. You really are a sharp one Mich” Lucas mock bowed to Michéle and laughed at the look of indignation on his face. “Look, I already thought about that. I already requested the Guild to allow it, or at least facilitate it.”

     “You don’t get it Luke, think about it. This current border dispute, the history of military campaigns against the Caliphate. Why was the City of Huron almost taken? They were out paced in getting word to the city. What they could send off was decoded almost immediately by the Caliphate. Think a little harder, what if we set this up for the commanders alone, hide it beneath layer after layer of code. Make it impossible for them to figure it out. Never let them find out about this magic Luke!” He was on his feet, pacing back and forth. 

     “Never let them… Michéle, do you not understand how the guild works? They don’t care about nationalities, borders or really even that much about politics. They disseminate information without fail, that's their whole deal. They want only what is going to make the world smaller, bring the world closer to itself. Why on this plane of existence would they listen to me about keeping something a military secret?” he sighed and put his hand on Michéle’s shoulder to stop him.

     He only waved off the gesture, “No, you can make it happen. I know you can. If the Caliphate could never figure out how we were able to issue changes in commands so quickly, we would never be out maneuvered again! There wouldn’t be anyone to stop us this time, Huron could take back the entire region of the Slash, and take the Capitol!”

     “Stop. Listen to yourself, you are talking of war, actual war. I will not endanger the lives of my men, nor the Federations on a speculative advantage, despite its obvious merits. Now I’ll concede, I can order small scale operations from them if they wish to stay in the city, but I don’t want to risk them leaving on their own if they see this line of thought as a power grab from the Federation, more specifically how this would only benefit Glaion if the information stayed with us alone. I honestly don’t want to rule the Federation Michéle, so you can stop that train of thought now.”

     With an exasperated gesture and a grunt “Can we at least have this Odeza person be studied by the Forgemaster? Maybe we don’t need some hogwash God’s Eye involved past a certain point. Maybe the Master can make an actual technology out of this. I doubt the Master has ever been given the chance to examine their magic all that much.”

     “You make an awful many assumptions about what I can demand from them.” His tone shifted from conversation to command. Michéle slowed and a bead of sweat formed on his brow. “I will humor one thing you have said. I will ask the Guild if we may speak with Odeza about working with the Forgemaster. Beyond that, you will be silent about telling me what I should be doing.”

     Crossing his arms he stared down at the table. Eyes following the intertwining grain of the wood, flicking them back up to see his Chancellor nervously scratching at his thumbs with his hands crossed. Sighing he got up, Michéle had a bad habit of doing that. Even when it was a light dressing down, he’d scratch his skin raw if uninterrupted. 

     “Enough, I'll humor it to the point of discussing a plan of this with the Forgemaster before I ask for an audience with Odeza. Do you have any suggestions as to what we should try for?” Lucas said, gesturing for Michelle to stop that nervous habit.

     Visibly much more comfortable, he replied “Perhaps we should suggest something for a small communications operation between commanders. Three to four artifacts that allow commands to be relayed out to commanders?”

     “I like the idea of being able to command at a distance without being on the danger line. I also think we might want to add some kind of fail safe. Something that would make them pointless if they were captured?” Lucas added.

     “One way communication?” 

     “No, I need to be able to respond to changing battlefield situations. Maybe we can imprint them to specific commanders and only work for them.” Lucas speculated.

     “Would the God’s eye be able to block out any interruption or interception?” Michéle responded with a flip of his hand.

     “Undoubtedly, though the guild would never allow their upper echelon to be tied up with such a small project for any real length of time. Not without significant benefit to themselves. I think having the Forgemaster study her ability to set up these portals and the basic technique involved should be enough to test this theory of a physical object doing the same thing.”

     “Luke, if I may.” Lucas gestured to give Michelle the go ahead. “Why is this God’s eye so important? I’ve never understood their ranking, of how some things seem interchangeable. What is her actual importance to the Guild?”

     “We’ve been over this before.” looking annoyed, Lucas sighed.

     “Was I in the middle of something at the time when you explained it?”

     “Possibly, it was a few years back. I believe you said something to the effect of ‘I don’t care what those robe wearing freaks want with the city beacons, I am trying to secure the Pomerium.’ Was that close enough?” Lucas mocked.

     “...Sounds about right.” He said dubiously.

     “The Guild is tiered on five levels. The Acolytes are the largest group in the Guild and fulfill the role of most general activities in the organization. They can move on after they can demonstrate that they have the ability to cast their magic.” Michéle pulled out a small leather bound book and began scribbling in it.

     A brief pause transpired as Lucas let Michéle write. “The Accepted are fairly self explanatory. They have proven themselves to the Guild, and are largely interchangeable with the Acolytes as they are the most easily removed from the guild should any transgression happen. They make up the largest portion of the researchers in the guild, and do most of the tedious experimentation on the Heightened’s behalf.”

     “How many of them are there in the city anyway.?” Michéle said as he scribbled away.

     “The vast majority of them are plain clothed members, the ones that wear the regalia are the Enlightened and the God’s eyes. There are a few hundred of them inside the city as far as I am aware.” He said pulling a small portrait off the shelf behind him, handing it to Michéle. The robes were ostentatious, black, gold leaf and thread embroidery running up the arms and shoulders with a depiction of the Great Tree.

     “Either way, the Heightened are the ones we interact with the most in the court. Currently there are twenty of them in the Glaion branch. They reach that rank after a few criteria are met within the guild. That being, they have mastered teleportation, and are proficient in some other magic, to name a few. They are given more or less free reign of the guild’s resources and are given the opportunity to oversee the political aspects of whatever city they are in on the organizations behalf.”

     Raising his brow, and grumbling. “Middle ranking and they are given the role of an Ambassador?”

     “Middle ranking on paper, not in reality. The Enlightened are the fourth step to this. There are only two of them in the city at the moment. They are… how do I put this? Enigmatic figures. The rank is based on appointment by the guild at large, in some form of merit based senate meeting. I think it’s some kind of meritocracy, as I have never met one that cannot go toe to toe with any overzealous diplomat on any issue.” Lucas scratched behind his head in a somewhat embarrassed movement. “Though any drawn out conversation with them somehow leads to them talking about things they have no right to know. Conversations about the nature of the Great Tree, insight into personal information about you as you're thinking about it. They have a look in their eyes like they are seeing many versions of you at the same time. It's somewhat unsettling.”

     “They seem like a threat, I don’t like that they can read people's minds.”

     “You think everything is a threat, besides I wouldn’t call what they are doing as mind reading per say. They act as each City branch's Guild master and oversee all research and activities made by the lower rankings. But, to the last and highest rank the God’s Eyes. I am told that this rank can be gained at any level of the Acolyte, it is based on skill alone. I have only ever met one before, and let me tell you Michelle. They. Are. Terrifyingly. Potent. Casters.” He punctuated each word with a tap on the table. 

     Ceasing his scribbling, and looking up at the Baron, “What do you mean?”

     “The only way I can describe it is like this. It is like being in the presence of a large feral animal, knowing full well it could do whatever it wanted, and you were nothing but an ant on the ground next to it. They have insight into things I'd never imagine, they can do things I didn’t think possible. I mean for gods sake this God’s Eye brought down a mountain by teleporting a chunk of some ocean on top of it and ripped it to pieces with the water pressure.”

     A look of disbelief crossed the Chancellor's face, then a tinge of worry. “Why did they do that?” 

     Leaning in, he said in a hushed voice. “You remember our retreat from the Caliphate as we were heading to Huron’s defense?”

     “Yes… As I recall, I was the vanguard, there was a commotion from the rear guard. Something about our retreat was now impossible.”

     “Well, I asked what the God’s Eye could do to cover our rear to stop their advance. He just did that in an instant. Without a second thought, without any effort. All he said was ‘Done’” The awe in his voice was evident.

     “Why haven’t you ever mentioned that before?”

     “A certain amount of fear, a certain amount of awe, and far more; who would believe me? That hill just east of the Sea of Ilori? We had all the maps changed to reflect the fact that that hill was that mountain at one point.” He said, looking behind him, probably trying to find one of the old maps.

     “Either way, the God’s Eyes are true prodigies, they can do whatever they please as long as they act in the interest of the Guild. They have many pet projects, they favor certain people over others, they talk like they have known you all your life. They are strange, powerful. That is why they are such a big deal Michéle, do you understand why I am hesitant to even do anything that doesn’t interest this Odeza?”

     “Yes Sir.” Michéle rose and began walking to the door of the study, but stopped with his hand on the knob. Clearing his throat, he spoke again “One last thing, Sire.”

     Lucas was back to scribbling away at his document, but made a noise of affirmation. Michéle continued, “There is a Dwarven clan just north of Riviére, they have set up a temporary camp. One of the Four kings is asking for permission to pass by the City, citing the Treaty of Mhuzelt.”

     Lucas quickly looked up, a small look of surprise on his face. “Which one of the Four kings is posing the request?”

     “The Warlord, and the Rhjoric Clan.” Michéle responded coolly. 

     “I want to speak with Halgier personally then. There is an ambassador from Mhuzelt in the city at the moment. We will need to draw up a small non-aggression document for the Gnomes and the Dwarves if they are to enter the city Pomerium.” Lucas said getting up from his chair and walking to the door that Michéle held open for him. 

     “Are there any of the other Four Kings with the Warlord?” Lucas continued, allowing Michéle to hand him his surcoat and walk to the main chamber of the court. 

     “I believe the Bluejay is with him as well. The emissary they sent came with the proper documents, along with a proposal to be used as mercenaries if need be.” Michéle added, quickly keeping pace with the Baron. 

     “Wonderful, so we will need one of the Mages onsite with us, that silver tongued Minstrel is something else. Have you ever had the opportunity to meet him?” Lucas asked.

     “No, but I did have the pleasure of seeing him in the battle at the Slash, turned an entire battalion back on itself. A presence I didn’t think was possible…” Michéle cleared his head of the awful memory. Even if it was the enemy, to have your allies turn against you at word, against their will. Well, it was an unpleasant thought. “To my knowledge, there are no other kings with them this time.”

     “Good, then the Ambassador will be more willing to sign the agreement, though…” Lucas paused.

     “Sire?” Michéle prodded.

     “If they are looking for work, we may want to keep them here for a while, with the threat of the Caliphate getting hotter with this skirmish on the border… Well, I may wish to recruit them for a while.” They had entered the main chamber, its high vaulted ceilings made of sparkling marble made Lucas feel small. He had always used it as a way to ground himself to his position during court, to remind himself that he was also human. 

     Michéle nodded, and made a mental note. “Was there anything else you wished for me?”

     “No, you are dismissed, thank you for bringing me the news of the Dwarves, I only hope we heard about this before the Ambassador has.” Lucas said, stopping in front of another carved doorway, knocking and entering without the Chancellor. 

     Michéle stood there for a moment before walking off, thinking. He would visit the Dwarves with a proposal, they would happily take the city’s coin if offered. He also wanted to stop and see that Sightless Hunter, give him the job, and dole out the orders. He passed through the Palace gates, saluting his guards as he passed. 

     The brisk night air, telling of the coming Season of Waiting. It made him think back to his youth back in Huron, the lack of responsibility heavy in his mind. Some days he wished to return to those days, but… these days he felt he had made a home in this Foreign City. His wife and child were here with him, he thought he had enough reason to fight for this place as much as any other man. He smiled thinking of his family waiting for him back home.

     He wandered the streets back to his home near the Forgemaster's workshop just outside the Market square. He marveled at the changes the Forgeworks were able to do in these last few years. The street lights had been swapped out from the Glowbell planters, to incorporate enchanting metallic lacework that gave off a soft warm glow. The steam powered machines pumped water through the city, small puffs being given off near the intakes around the city canal that ran through the heart of the Market district. 

     His eyes wandered over the many smaller artifaced machines that did menial tasks. Their runes in the metal, glowing softly in the shadows where they waited for their master to return and give them purpose again. He stopped outside the Forgemaster’s workshop and chatted with a few of the Apprentices that were smoking pipes outside the workhouse. Making friendly banter, he learned of a few more interesting creations the Master was working on. He’s had to make a note of returning and seeing a few of them, the Master willing anyway.

     He bade his farewell and continued to his home. Stopping to remove his heavy iron studded boots, and gauntlets before entering. His wife had always made him keep up some of the traditions from home, one being that you should be silent while entering home, lest you awake your loved ones. He smiled as he walked through the door, and was graced with the heavy spices of his home that hung in the air. His son ran up to him and asked about his work for the day. His wife smiled as she stepped out and graced him with a smile as she returned to what she was doing.

     Lighting his own pipe, the heavy scent, sweet and cedary, filled his home. He smiled as he talked of his day to his wife and son. Yes, he did have a home here, he thought in the back of his mind, plenty of reasons to fight in the foreign city indeed. The only two that mattered to him, here.