Act II - Finals - Summit Subterfuge

[Musicmuse]

"It looks like we'll be heading out again," Cameron announced as he presented a letter to Geneva. The letter was rolled neatly and sealed with the royal emblem.

Geneva took the letter, knowing it was from Prince Tyrak. For the past four weeks Tyrak had been hidden away at an undisclosed location since the attempted kidnapping. This didn't stop him from trying to communicate in secret with her, however, and as Tyrak's best friend since childhood, Cameron felt compelled to help him deliver these secret messages to the prince's mistress Geneva.

"I wish he'd stop," Geneva murmured to herself as she ripped the seal open and scanned the note.

She already knew what it said. Tyrak would go on and on about how he longed to have her during these lonely nights and how his every thought was about her -- it was very romantic, but Geneva knew that since Tyrak was betrothed that these letters were a dangerous thing to be messing around with. If anyone in the kingdom found out... well, needless to say it would be quite a mar on Thiltis' long and prestigious history. It was already bad enough that she had intended to tell Tyrak that their affair had to end upon returning from the Ynuron Forest, but due to the attempted kidnapping she was forbidden to have any contact with the Prince. Unfortunately it meant that Tyrak still lulled himself into the false assumption that Geneva wished to remain his mistress in the shadows.

"So where are we going?" Geneva questioned Cameron, barely paying attention to what she was reading. Cameron told her about the conference and how the entire situation had begun to snowball into what was shaping up to be a political nightmare.

"I'd be surprised if this didn't end in war," Cameron commented in despair. "I think there are better ways to resolve this conflict. It just feels like we're not hearing the entire story."

"What's left to hear?" Geneva mused, looking up from the sappy letter. "Jurion tried to kidnap Tyrak and now they're denying any involvement. It's an obvious lie and an attempt to cover up the Doithmin Shard findings from Ynuron," she finished heatedly.

"I'm not so sure," Cameron reasoned scratching his scruffy face. "Something doesn't quite add up." He waited for a response from Geneva, but she was occupied with burning the note from Prince Tyrak. "Regardless," Cameron continued, his voice even and deliberate, "I have been asked by the King to go to this conference as an ambassador and hear out the Jurions case, and I'm taking you as my personal attendant."

Geneva caught his eye. "Why me?" she asked.

"I need someone who I can trust, but who also might be able to get some dirt from the other ambassadors or attendants..." His voice trailed off. "It seems this job could use a woman's touch."

"Say no more," Geneva responded, adjusting her corset and winking at Cameron playfully. If there was one thing Geneva was an expert at, it was conning men out of, well, anything. Obviously her skills as a sultry temptress were being called upon to serve the greater good of Thiltis -- and she could have revenge on the bastards that tried to kidnap her lover. She may not have a desire to perpetuate the affair, but she still cared deeply about Tyrak and his safety.

"We leave in the morning," Cameron told her with a smile. "Be ready and dress to impress." He slipped out of her room and headed down the long corridor to get some much needed rest.

[Anomaly]

So there had been a changing of the gaurd among the stuffed shirts. All of a sudden a simple mining operation was no longer 'part of the budget' for his research team and while his mission had been a 'technical success' he was being shunted to baby-sitting duty for a few high ranking deligates over what sounded like a lot of bad business that would result in even more hot air. Even so, Isaac Direson took it all in stride.

As soon as he had arrived in Thurtun he had used his Therus clout to secure a high ranking government officials office for his own private head quarters. Oh there had been the usual outrage and bluster that evaporated like so much fog beneath Diresons steely glare. He was in no mood to deal with any lip from anyone and his soldiers suffered for it. There was no light duty, no breaks, no loosening of rules this go around. Nerves stretched tight, the Therus unit serving as security forces for this summit were, if not the best, the most disciplined thanks to Isaac's unrelenting command.

The old Engeneer sits in his office even now, going over paper work detailing every movement in the town, from the governers visit to a friends on the outskirts of Thurtun while his offices were in use by Therus officials, to the migrations of local bands of feral dogs. Grey eyes moving over the papers, Isaac looks up for a moment, gazing out a large window that looked down on Thurtun spread out below. Benefiting from its position between the three kingdoms, Thurtun had become something of an entity in its own right. This was largely thanks to its massive market place that plied wares from each country that travelers from all over the kingdoms would treck to, especially around festival days. It was something of a vacation spot, a busy economic hub, and a political stage all rolled into one. It was said all you needed to know about the relations between the three major countries could be learned by simply observing the peasants in the streets.

Right now there weren't very many of those, thanks in large part to the Company's patrols. Seeing the streets almost empty brings a frown to Diresons middle-aged face. His troops shouldn't be having this much of an impact on the cities bustling life...the common people were going to ground. That was never a good sign to a soldier.

A furitive knocking on the overtly ornamental mahogony double doors interupts the captains dark thoughts. "Enter!" Direson's voice booms and echos off the beautiful hardwood walls. A rather soiled Therus private hurries into the office and quickly shuts and locks the doors behind him. He carries a large burlap sachel over one shoulder and looks both out of breath and scared as hell. The young man is immediately recognizable as young Private Baxter, somehing of a verbal whipping boy and gopher for Captain Direson. Though Baxters normal look is one of a slightly flustered and out of his depth private, he looks like hell warmed over right now, likely in no small part due to the look his captain is giving him right at this moment.

"Sir, I brought all the stuff just as you requested, sir!"

He salutes in a vain attempt to cover for his fright.

"You're late."

"Yes sir, but you see sir, it was very hard to..."

"I don't want to hear it. Better late than never. Leave the satchel on the floor, get cleaned up, and resume your regular duties. We'll talk about this later."

Baxter looks extremely relieved and, uncharacteristically for him, does as he is told without saying another word and quickly retreats from his captains presence. It doesn't pay to spend too long in the same room with the captain anymore.

Isaac goes over to the double doors and locks them after Baxter. Isaac had many, many friends in Therus, but a lot of them had retired, one by one. He couldn't be certain, but he was almost sure that most of his contacts on the board had either died, gone on vacation, or simply taken large sums of money to bugger off and make room for younger members of the Company to take their place on the board. To anyone else it would be nothing, but Isaac had spent too much time with the Company and on the battlefield not to pay attention to which way the wind was blowing. He'd need an ace in the hole if things started to go pear shaped. That and his fingers were itching. Just because the Company thought it was a dead end, didn't mean "Dust Devil" Direson had to.

For the first time in days, Isaac smiles as he opens the satchel and a soft blue-green light illuminates his features.

[Psiko]

"You are absolutely worthless, Jarek!" Master Shion shouts over the noise in the kitchen. The wooden spoon in Jarek's hand stops midway to his mouth, the soupy broth dripping back into his bowl. A slight scowl briefly flashes across his face, but it replaced by a forced smile before Shion notices.

"Master, even the lowliest of peasants must eat in order to keep their energy."

"Shut it, Jarek!" Shion snaps as he takes the bowl from in front of Jarek and downs it in a matter of seconds. "You are no longer worthy of the privleges of even the lowliest of kitchen scullions! You will eat only when ordered!"

"Yes master," Jarek responds with a sigh. His eyes are encircled by black rings from the lack of sleep he has gotten ever since the last mission. In Master Shion's eyes, Jarek failed the mission. This is the price he must pay.

"Now, back to the stables! I expect to find it clean enough to eat off the floor in there! I'll be back at sundown!"

Shion storms out of the kitchen. Jarek notices all the kitchen hands have stopped doing their jobs and are still staring at him. His face grows red with embarassment and he shouts at them to get back to work as he heads out to the stables once again.

--------------------

The days continue to pass in a similar manner following the mission. Jarek is reaching the brink of exhaustion, but dares not to let Master Shion even suspect how worn down he really is. He takes the berating words and harsh tasks without complaint. After all, Shion trained him personally. Jarek deserves this punishment after disappointing his Master. In Shion's eyes, no warrior should outshine Jarek in battle. On the mission, they all outshone him.

Sweat covers his face and exposed torso as he struggles to haul two massive buckets of water from the well to the kitchen. He wonders why anyone would place the well two miles away from the castle, but he has no time to place a lot of thought into the problem. It is taking all his mental force to keep from collapsing under the midday sun.

"You're late again," Shion snaps as Jarek sets the buckets down in the kitchen. Jarek braces himself for another verbal beating, but it never comes. Instead Shion tosses him a damp rag and orders him upstairs to clean up. Puzzled, Jarek eagerly obeys the order. Ten minutes later Jarek is clean and dressed, on his way to Shion's quarters for further explanation in this change in routine. Has Shion finally forgiven his failure?

Jarek knocks three times before opening to door to Shion's chamber. His master is huddled over a parchment of some sort in the corner, so Jarek shuts the door and patiently stands in the center of the room while waiting for his Master to address him.

"Jarek, I have a new mission for you," Shion says in a tranquil voice. For the first time in weeks, his voice lacks the edge of disappointment in it. "You are to attend the upcoming summit as the personal attendant to Lord Braen."

"Master, no disrespect, but don't we have other guards who are paid to do that job."

"Yes, Jarek, but until you prove otherwise you are just as worthless as them. No more questions, Jarek. Go make preparations. You leave in the morning."

"Yes Master."

As Jarek shuts the door to the room, a single tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. Nothing hurts more than knowing that he let his Master down. He will just have to prove his worth. Again.

[Anomaly]

"Baxter, long time no see!"

Private Baxter Stockton, blond haired and blue eyed with more than a little puppy fat still in his youthful features. He had been a part of what was quickly being called the 'dragon debacle', but worse than that, he hadn't even arrived on the scene of destruction until after the beast had been put down. What was worse was that Captain Direson didn't even reprimand him. Not until much later. It didn't help that he was young, that his family had no military experience prior to Baxters enlistment, or that his family were actually not that important as share holders went with the Therus Company. All this combined to make Baxter very easy to pick on.

"Oh...hey Evans...whats happening?"

The barracks were never the safest place to be, even when Baxter slept. There was that horrible episode with the glass of warm water. He much prefered to be on duty, much prefered to have an assignment to keep himself occupied. That, to redeem himself to his captain, and Evans, were the reason he jumped at the special mission he had just returned from for Captain Direson. If haste hadn't been stressed as important to Baxter, he would've drawn it out instead of coming back to the petty torments that Evans and most of the other Therus unit now represented to him.

"Oh, nothing much Bastard...I mean Baxter, sorry, slip of the tongue. We were just wondering where you've been all this time. Looks like you might've fallen asleep in the toilet again. Phew...smells like it too!"

Baxter doesn't bother making a reply. He long ago realized his best defense against this kind of verbal battering was silence. Don't give them anything to work with. Just do what you came for and leave. Going over to his bunk, Baxter pulls his change of uniform out of his trunk. As he lifts the cloths from the dark recesses, he notices a creeping sensation moving over his fingers. He looks down to see the trunk filled with rats scurring to be let out. A burst of laughter rocks the barracks as Baxter leaps back in shock.

"Do you like them Bax? We thought they might remind you of home!"

Baxter narrows his blue eyes, and calmly shakes out his cloths, making sure they're in good order. He takes them and turns away, leaving the rats to scamper about the barracks and heads for the bath house. Evans trots behind him and slams his hand on Baxters shoulder, spinning him around. With a shit eating grin, Evans smiles and asks, "Hey, no hard feelings, right Bax?"

The blow is a clean one, delivered with as much calmness as if Baxter were flicking a peice of dirt from his lapel. Only the slight reddening of the chubby face showed the anger boiling beneath his skin. As soon as Evans falls in a spray of his own blood Baxter knows he'll regret laying him out like that. Evans had a lot of friends in the unit...more than it seemed before. He wouldn't get away with this for long...but for now he savored the throbbing pain in his knuckles.

----------------------------

"Sir, Direson hasn't accepted any visitors all afternoon. Even when his doors were open, he barely let anyone come in, even on legitimate business. Do you think we should be monitoring him more closely?"

"Don't be a fool, that old hack may have once have posed a threat to this operation, but without his precious factory lab or the backing of Therus, he's nothing more than an old soldier who's brain has gone to pot. That is clearly underlined by that dragon fiasco. If he had all his mental faculties, he would've let the dragon kill ALL the Wuith soldiers and then slain the dragon while it wwas weak from exhaustion. Then we'd have access to those caverns without having to expend resources. No, there's no need ot keep any more of an eye on the old fool than we are already."

"Yes sir, but it still bothers me that some of the men are so loyal to him. I know we've stacked the odds in our favor, but victory is by no means assured."

"You let me worry about that. By the way...where is Evans?"

"Infirmary sir...apprently that little yellow streak Baxter got a lucky punch in. But don't worry Colonel though, we'll have him sorted out in time for the operation."

"See that you do. Oh, and Lewis?"

"Yes Colonel?"

"Address me by that rank again before we have executed our mission and I'll personally put you in the Infirmary for the rest of your life."

[Psiko]

Bloody hot armor! Jarek complains mentally as he rides in front of a covered wagon. Ambassador Luten gets to sit on his fat ass in the comfort of that wagon while I am forced to wear full ceremonial armor while riding in this hot sun. This sucks.

When Master Shion finally disclosed the details of this mission to Jarek, he thought it was all a joke. Clearly Jarek has shamed Shion so much that he is being unfairly punished. What sane person would want to spend a week in a stuffy building with all those pompous ambassadors?

Maybe there will be a fight that breaks out...

Jarek smiles as he imagines impaling all these fat, greedy men on his sword. That could be quite a fun time.

Jarek's thoughts are interrupted by an arrow bouncing off the visor of his helmet. Three dirty men are standing in the road in front of him, brandishing weapons. They start talking, but Jarek pays no attention to their words. After all, this is the fifth time on this trip that bandits have tried to hijack the wagon, assuming it is filled with gold. Jarek just sighs as he draws his sword, wondering when this trip will end.

[Anomaly]

Night envelopes Thurtun, dark and lightless. In the distance the market is a blaze of activity, even at this late hour. The glow of torches, however, rather than illuminate the night only serves to darken the shadows here at the embassy.

The dark is broken by a brief, blue green flash. The smoke drifts harmlessly, unseen and unsmelt through the moonless night. If any of the gaurds Direson had posted saw the flash they probably would've assumed it nothing more than summer lightning, or perhaps the will-o-the-wisp. Either way, there was a muffled cursing in the night followed by more busy silence.

The dawn approached all too quickly.

---------------------------

Sunlight bringing a misty blue to the horizon, Isaac Direson unlocks his doors and gives orders for Sen Iota to appear before him. It's too early, yet, for breakfast to have even been served, but it was not at all uncommon these days for Direson to not take the condition of his men to account. Everyone puts it down to high strung nerves, but those closer to him are beginning to worry.

As Sen enters his make shift office she might notice the tell-tale radiation of muffled magics. If she does, Isaac gives her no chance to make comment about it.

"Good morning, miss Iota, let me start by apologizing for not being able to meet with you before. I've been very busy the last few days, as you might expect. Today is going to be even busier with the ambassadors arriving. Because of this I need to stay here to issue orders, but I need someone I trust to great the ambassadors and their aids."

He shuffles a bit of paper work on his desk.

"I also need you to check our guests weapons at the door. They may keep their arms, but I want to know what everyones carrying at all times. With your abilities, I need you to check for any latent magics or enchanted artifacts, though hopefully the Magic Seals will keep anyone from using such abilities or tools at any rate."

The old captain turns his gray eyes to Sen then and frowns.

"There's going to be a lot happening today. I want you to be careful, but thorough. Remember that The Therus Weapons Company's reputation is on the line. We must conduct ourselves with the utmost grace. Now if there are no questions, you are dismissed."

As he has been talking the entire time, Direson has gotten up from his desk and slowly moved around its edge to where Sen Iota stands. Before he finishes his last sentence, he presses something small into her hand. It is long and smooth to the touch and it exudes a thrill of power from its surface. The captain looks meaning fully into her eyes and nods gently, before returning to his desk.

[Andromeda]

Just a reminder that there is a one week left and some of you have only posted once. You need to wrap things up even though all you have done is introduction and nothing else almost.