View source for Inevitable (storyline)/Meetings, Notes, and Letters (vignette)

{{saved-post
| category = Cities, Towns, and Outposts
| topic = Mist Harbor
| messagenum = https://forums.play.net/forums/GemStone%20IV/Cities,%20Towns,%20and%20Outposts/Mist%20Harbor/view/2416
| author = GS4-QUILIC
| date = 01/26/2021
| subject = Inevitable - Meetings, Notes, and Letters
}}
Ilsola felt lost and hated herself for it. She'd tried every trick in the book to keep her mind on work, but it just wasn't happening. Her eyes kept drifting towards the open window, and her thoughts towards the town. They'd all been through so much, but now it seemed like there was more to come. She longed for the peace and tranquility such a beautiful place should rightly bring. But, it seemed, that was not to be.

Ilsola’s gaze traveled over the various letters on her desk. After the meeting yesterday, she'd painstakingly gone over each, looking for the tell-tale sign that there might be some hidden message, but it was all more of the same. Taxation, noise complaints, something about a mannequin... but none of it held her focus.

Warlord... what an odd title, she thought. How does one become a warlord? Well, by instigating and winning wars, she would think. But why would a warlord have any interest in Mist Harbor? Yes, it was beautiful, and they had called attention to their bountiful resources by aiding the Landing, but surely there were other targets more worth a warlord's time? She shook her head in bewilderment. It just didn't make any sense to her.

As much as the rational part of her wanted to dismiss the letters and the graffiti as pranks, the group in her office the day before had put their collective finger on it. The menace was too pronounced, and the level of magic used too great for a simple prank. No, it was clear that whoever was sending these notes believed what they were writing. And that meant that Ilsola had to believe it as well. This warlord was coming, and they had to prepare.

Ilsola focused on her breathing, feeling a sense of panic welling up in her chest as her fingers began to tremble. She was no warrior, and recent experience had proven that she was at a loss when it came to managing a crisis. If she was honest with herself, she acknowledged that she just tried not to get in the way, and to let others handle things. But now...

Ilsole exhaled, her breath shaking slightly.

Now Selbi was dead. And Socius had hung up his dagger. As much as the thought made her sick, this time, she supposed, it was on her.

She was shaken from her thoughts by an angry pounding on her door. She started, then fumbled with a drawer, withdrawing a sharp knife and holding it just beneath the level of the desk.

"Enter," she called out cautiously.

A young man came stomping into her office, his hair in a messy bun and his face red with indignation. She sighed and relaxed her grip on the knife as he launched into a harangue about being accosted at a bar by a woman calling herself 'Justice'. Within moments her thoughts had drifted away from his words and back to her ruminations. What might this mean for her? Or for the town?

------

The view of the harbor from her well-hidden cave was particularly lovely as the sun began to set, she mused, sipping her tea quietly. She admired the way the sky caught fire as it dipped below the horizon. She nodded her approval of the image, enjoying the idea immensely.

How concerned and sincere the group had been in the Administrator's office. How quick to call to arms and sling suspicions every which way. How quick to judge each other. They had been so proud when they managed to figure out that silly little magical trick with the notes... she made a mental note to report back on that tidbit as soon as possible. That was something that could be troublesome, and bear watching.

Still, their attention to such... trifles... was almost charming. They ignored the glaring things right before their eyes, like children with their attention arrested by a particularly interesting stick. She sipped her tea some more, giving thanks to whomever might be listening that their blindness would line her pockets. With a cruel little smile she washed and dried her tea cup and wandered back towards the town and a place to lie her head. There was much still to do, and she needed her rest.

------

Katillios kept her cowl low as she made her way into the bar, holding her breath as much as possible to avoid the stench. It would not do to be seen again so soon, she knew. The bartender, though, spotted her immediately and nodded a greeting. She clenched her jaw, wondering if the man had identified her, but nodded back. Without a word, the large man held out a message to her, and she reflexively took it from him.

"Loremaster left that fer you," he rumbled. Katillios glanced around at the other patrons, but none seemed to be paying her any mind.

"This one thanks you for the kindness," she muttered, slipping the letter into a pocket and hurrying out of the bar. She hadn't seen the face she was looking for yet, but there were plenty of other places to check.

------

The lights in the tunnel flickered ominously, and both of the crouched figures held their breath, listening for the sounds of incoming tide. After a moment, they resumed their whispered conversation.

"And you're quite sure no one saw you?"

"Grew up hidin' from m'dah... No one thurr's gun'see me if ah don' wan'be seen."

The smaller form was quiet for a moment before replying.

"All right. We know that damnable snake Katillios is still skulking around there. Even with the disguise, you're a hard one to miss. Keep a low profile, if at all possible. No more fights, you hear me?"

The larger form grumbled something that sounded affirmative.

"I haven't seen anything to indicate when he's planning to move, but when he does, it'll come quick. They need to prepare as best they can, since it doesn't sound like they're even considering leaving..."

"Proud," the larger form rumbled, though it was impossible to tell if the heavy inflection on the word was admiration or condemnation.

"Perhaps. Not too proud to listen, at any rate. Look, we can't linger here. The tide will be back any moment, and I need to return before I'm missed. You need to get started back as well and keep an eye on things as best you can. I'll write if I find any more information to pass along, and get the letters to you in the same way as last time, all right?"

The larger form was quiet for a moment, and when it spoke, its voice was troubled.

"Th'quill.. Y'sure's safe?"

"Of course I'm sure," the smaller form replied quickly. "I've got the trick of it now, and it's completely safe."

The sound of crashing water from the lower end of the tunnel echoed off the walls, and the smaller form bit back a curse. Without another word, the pair split, scurrying in opposite directions.

------

Greth raised a meaty hand in farewell as the last of the patrons left, then looked around at the empty bar. It never stayed that way for long, but for the moment he had the chance to relax, and he seized it. He dragged one of the stools around behind the bar and perched on it, digging around under the shelves of liquor and withdrawing a series of unopened letters. He broke the seal on the first and read it quietly, his expression neutral, then tossed it onto the bar and moved to the second. This one brought forth a grin and a chuckle, and Greth shook his head in amusement as he set it on the bar beside the first and broke the seal on the third one. As he did so, a small slip of paper slipped free and drifted to the floor. Greth grumbled and heaved himself up to retrieve it, then squinted as he read it.

<pre{{log2}}>"It has come to my attention that there are those seeking this. It is in the best interests of all concerned that it remain out of sight unless some catastrophe should arise. I would ask that you hide it away on my behalf, until such time as it becomes necessary to produce it.
Regards,
~S"</pre>

Greth scowled at the note, then glanced at the contents of the document in his other hand. He read the first sentence and grunted, then continued to read. When he got to the last sentence, he hollered a particularly vile epithet and slammed a heavy fist down on the bar before fixing himself a rather stiff drink.

By the time the doors swung carelessly open to admit the next group of customers, the document was well hidden, and Greth swore to himself that it'd stay that way for good if he had anything to say about it.

[[Category:Inevitable]]