RP:Woes Exponential

Part of the What You Leave Behind Arc

Part of the Put Up Your Dukes Arc

Summary: Pilar and Yozenra inform a summoned Lionel that Jaize and her naga army may soon be upon Chartsend. The frontier town, still reeling from its recent battle against Kahran, barely has the militia to be guarded under normal conditions -- let alone impending bloodshed. Lionel cannot task Frostmaw to this, nor can he promise he'll be able to secure much help elsewhere given the present state of Lithrydel. But he vows at the very least to offer himself to the cause, which seems to be enough for Pilar.

Chartsend

Pilar and Yozenra were busy, busy women lately. Between their upcoming nuptials and their jobs, they had almost no spare time. But they'd made time for today, to just enjoy a nice dinner together at home. Chartsend was still suffering from an economic depression, so money was tight, but they'd managed to scrape together something. Fish sticks, potatoes and carrots. Yum. At least they had a little wine left.

Lionel is uncertain what to expect from Chartsend, not only due to the contents of Pilar’s letter but because he isn’t sure how easily Kahran will surrender all attempts at its conquest or destruction. In war, it’s best not to take one’s chances. He has donned a full crimson cloak and cowl emblazoned with the forgotten sigils of an irrelevant royal house from a far-off land, all the better to leave any prying spies guessing as to his true identity. He walks briskly through the town’s main entrance, keeping his cowl down low. He’s come prepared for any guards who might find such behavior worthy of closer investigation -- a cart full of fresh turnips is lugged behind him by a Warrior’s Guild initiate of 16, perhaps 17 years, who has been ordered to wear similar but less concealing garb as his commander. The sight of two seemingly noble-blooded tradesmen bringing much-needed produce to Chartsend is indeed enough to break off the guards’ suspicion, and Lionel and his young ally make a quick stop at the market to surprise the locals with free turnips for all who hunger. “Stay here, and keep an eye on things,” Lionel orders the initiate. “If you spot anything untoward, you know where to find me.” The initiate nods nervously and remains behind at the market. Lionel, on the other hand, reaches Pilar’s place of residence and knocks gingerly. He unhoods himself before anyone answers the door to avoid any misunderstandings.

Pilar looked up from her wine (she was leaving the actual food for Yozenra) and towards the door. “Who could that be?” Yozenra shrugged. Pilar set her glass down and went to the door. She peeked through the peephole. “Lionel? Oh!” The letter, right. Pilar opened the door and smiled at him. “Lionel, good to see you. Please, come in.” She stepped back and gave him room to enter. “We were having dinner. Join us?” Yozenra raised a hand in greeting.

Lionel steps inside, nodding lightly to both women. If there’s a coat rack, he’ll hang his lavish cloak upon it, unveiling his red silk shirt and loose white slacks. “I’ll gladly sit, but I’m not hungry, thanks.” It’s a lie, but a well-told one. “I’m here to discuss Chartsend. Namely, the danger you spoke of. I cannot involve Frostmaw, and the strength of my allies -- such as it is in the face of overwhelming power -- is spread terribly thin as-is. But at the very least, I am here, Pilar. And I’ll do what I can to bring others here as well.”

Pilar accepted his lie, and the two of them sat at the table. “Getting Frostmaw involved would probably not be a good idea anyway... It's Jaize, Alithrya's new queen. A friend of Yozenra's informed us that she wants to invade.” “My friend bought us some time,” Yozenra continued, “but knowing Jaize...” She shook her head. “Chartsend can't stand up to her army, not now. I don't know if you ran into any guards on the way in, but our forces are all volunteer, and dwindling by the day. We simply don't have the resources.” Pilar nodded grimly. “And I don't know if she's the kind to take prisoners... Surrender may not be an option.”

Lionel had thought the guards seemed anemic but owed it to rough weather and the anxiety of a recently-fought battle. Now he understands. “I know little and less of Alithrya. Vuryal’s empire rose and fell in my absence from this realm. I met that woman, Reginae, once. It was… interesting.” He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “From the scattered reports of my scounts and the information Queen Hildegarde has given me, I guess it’s not unlike this Jaize character to go rampaging where she ain’t welcome. Well, innocent lives are on the line here. That’s all the incentive I’ll need. But I can’t ask armies to fight with me. Not with Kahran running amok, not with Larket grimmer than ever, not with civil war in Vailkrin. The world’s gone to hell again.” Lionel scoffs at his own words. “This is gonna be a tight squeeze. Will you have any way of reaching me swiftly when you detect Jaize’s forces approaching? I can’t remain here overlong, Pilar. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

Pilar put her hand on his. Her engagement ring twinkled in the light. “It'll be alright, Lionel. Lithrydel has weathered storms like this before.” She offered him a small smile. “I'll see if our informant has any news. My owl, Ciela, has served me well as a messenger. I'll send a letter on red paper. Whatever I write won't matter, just know: red paper means haul ass. Is that the right phrase?” “Yes, hon,” Yozenra said.

Lionel won’t comment on Pilar’s attempt at becalming him, but just the same, such efforts don’t deserve open condemnation. Not at the dinner table, anyway. Not for two women who are doing precisely as Khitti, Brand and Esche have often admonished him to do, himself: enjoying their life as best they can, one moment at a time. For those in Lionel’s life to whom such things seem feasible, it is perhaps best that he avoid damning it dimly with cold words and ridicule. Best to let Pilar and Yozenra enjoy their dinner and believe in a brighter future. Some small shred of Lionel still believes in it, too, or else he wouldn’t be torpedoing himself from battle to battle to fight for that future. “Alright.” Abruptly, he rises from his chair and eases a tension in his neck with his left hand. “Is there anything else you can tell me? Your reasoning for thinking the naga will invade, maybe, and any strategic fortifications in this city.”

Pilar shrugged. “All we know is that Yozenra's friend is close to Jaize, and she told us of her plans. She enchanted some rubble to make it look like we were more fortified than we are... I'm trying to get a mage from the Guild down here to actually, you know, fortify things. But we shouldn't count on it. Other than the city walls and a few tired guards, there's nothing protecting us.”

Lionel sighs, exasperated. “That’s not much to go by, but it’s a start. This friend of yours,” he says, turning to Yozenra. “Is there any further intel she might be able to supply? The size of her army, the composition if it isn’t one hundred percent naga-centric. Any hints that she might be in league with other foes of ours. Anything.” He bites his lip, but follows with, “unless it’s too dangerous for her. I won’t ask your friend to lay down her life at the slightest chance at more knowledge. No life is worth so little.”

Pilar | Yozenra nodded. “She would know, definitely. Thing is... I'm not sure how to get in contact with her without tipping someone off. It was pure luck that we ran into each other. And with her so close to Jaize... It might be too big a risk. If we luck out again and she returns to Chartsend, we'll send word. Perhaps a coded message? We can't ask you to keep making trips down here just to talk. It's a waste of time.”

Lionel is halfway to the door in the space between the last few words Yozenra utters, reaching for his cloak and readjusting his posture to appear more regal than he ever feels. His disguises require him to play the part, after all. “I can’t argue that.” There are half a hundred places and more Lionel needs to be at any given moment now. “Be well, you two. If and when battle should transpire, know that you’ll have my blade.” Perhaps they’ll have his blade alone. But it’s better than nothing.

Pilar went to the door and, perhaps surprisingly, embraced him. “Thank you, Lionel. You be careful out there. Stay warm. And... Happy New Year.”