Blood Ties, Part 3

Slipping into a nearby alley, you call upon your demonic powers, shifting your form into something more presentable to noble society. Your horns recede, your skin color losing its reddish tint, taking on a paler complexion, designed to suggest the image of a young man who preferred the sort of sheltered, scholarly activities pursued in a library rather than more physical pursuits under the sun.

You give your features a slender look, suggesting perhaps just a hint of some far distant elven ancestry without making it certain. Your hair becomes light blond, your eyes a clear, vibrant, inquisitive blue as you glance about yourself with a look of curious naivety. One that surely could hide no depraved intentions.

Lady Janessa still hasn't emerged from the bar. So, after considering your options for a bit, you enter yourself. This establishment is tailored to serve the upper crust. A genteel sort of place—at least on the surface. Of course, you've little doubt that many of the nobles you can see milling about are every bit as predatory as the toughs who accosted you in the bar where you met Khaytala.

But here? It's a civilized sort of predatory. The kind that would take excruciating care to avoid even the hint of a faux pas while stabbing a target in the back. Metaphorically, or perhaps literally.

Your own prey sits by herself. A striking, somber figure in a shadowy corner of the room. She sits at a table with her back to the wall, nursing a pint of alcohol whose impressive potency you can smell with your inhumanly enhanced senses. She takes a drink every now and again, though she shows little sign of tasting it. Nor does she show any sign of it affecting her overmuch—she can clearly hold her liquor.

And if her weary gaze is any indication, her thoughts are somewhere far away from this prim, posturing place.

Making a show of hesitant nervousness, glancing around as though you're looking for someone, you approach her booth. The woman glances up as you draw near, looking you up and down with seasoned ease. "Can I help you, kid?"

You clear your throat nervously. "My name is Niko Calwen," you say respectfully. "I'm the third son of Lord Brannar Calwen, and I just arrived from Aspar in the north. My father sent me to observe the preparations for the coming war, and to learn if there was anything our country might do to help our allies."

The identity is something you worked out with the spymaster Iskro before leaving. Lord Calven is a noble from one of the smaller northern states, and he does have a son named Niko. Which is useful to you, insofar as the boy is apparently unremarkable, unremarked-on, and has never left Aspar borders even once.

Lady Janessa raises an eyebrow. "Aspar hasn't been known to send much in the way of aid before," she observes. "They certainly were content to just hide behind us during the last war. Content to let us bear the cost of holding Kovora back."

You nod, lowering your gaze, shamefaced. "I know. My father regrets that, now. He saw the power of Kovora in the last war, and he knows that we could never stand against it, were Vekmar and Nelin to fall. That's why, this time, he wants to help. So, if I can find a way we can contribute... and if he can convince the other lords..."

Then you look up, right into her eyes, affecting just the right balance of earnest, naive and uncertain. "That's why I have to succeed in this task!" you say, drawing more emotion into your voice. "I was too young to do anything last time, but... but I couldn't bear to turn a blind eye, now that I can take action! I have to try and fight for a better world. A world where everyone can be happy!"

Her self-control is to rigid to let it show in an obvious way, but your perceptive eyes detect a pained flinch from Lady Janessa at your idealistic words, her eyes tightening almost imperceptibly. You wonder how many idealistic, eager, patriotic young men like you she had to lead into the meatgrinder of the last war. You wonder how many of them she was able to protect. How many of them made it out again in one piece.

"So you came to me, because you need an inroad into court," she says. It isn't a question, just an observation as she regards you, taking your measure anew. "Are you sure you're asking the right person? You might not know this, but I'm not exactly in the highest favor at the moment."

"But you're someone who actually knows what a war with Kovora means," you say quietly. "And from what I've heard... you're someone worthy of trust."

Lady Janessa exhales—a weary, self-mocking noise that could almost be called a laugh—then drains what's left of her drink in a single swig. "You'll come to a bad end if you go around just giving out your trust like that, kid..." she says. "Most of us will never live up to it."

But then she gestures to a chair on the opposite side of her table. "Still, I'm not about to turn down a shot at help. Not with what's coming. I suppose it's worth the attempt... even if I don't think your father has much chance of convincing the other lords."

You take the offered seat with an expression of relieved gratitude, considering your options as you do. First of all, her drink is now empty. You could offer her another, sharing with her in the pastime that you interrupted. If you continue in that direction, she might be easier to influence tonight if you can lower her inhibitions. Though if what you've seen of her alcohol tolerance is any indication, that will be an undertaking.

On the other hand, she might also be less cogent in any information you try to glean from her tonight, as well as making any events less clear, less meaningful in her subsequent recollection. Conversely, if you want her at her sharpest, you could keep her attention away from the alcohol. Doing so might require some extra effort if you want anything to happen tonight, but the result either way will be clearer and more memorable.

Then there's the question of what to discuss. One option is to use this opportunity to fish for anything Lady Janessa knows about the true object of your visit: Ceriss Zylnerios, the court sorceress. You'll be meeting her soon enough, if all goes well. A bit of advance knowledge couldn't hurt.

Or you could tease out information about Lady Janessa herself on a more personal level, learning more about your new patron in the world of Vekmar nobility. What drives her, and how did that come to be?

You could also ask about the war. This would be a chance to gain information from one involved on the side of your foes. How close does she think they are to an attack, and how does she feel about the possibility?

Or you could employ your charms directly, trying to draw out her affection for the young man she's now taken under her wing. You're confident that your initial appraisal of her was correct, that of all the possible inroads she is probably the trickiest one to crack. Still, given some focused effort, you're confident that you can rouse the flames of desire.

Taking it slower would be an option too, of course. Even after your marathon flight to reach Vekmar as quickly as possible, you still retain enough lust to last you for at least three more days in this disguise before your hunger starts to become truly debilitating... so long as you don't end up needing to use any other powers, of course.

Either way, you've secured your path to the inner circle of the nobility. Now how do you plan to build on that?