Post by Sire Halfblack on Aug 4, 2014 18:44:01 GMT
Februar IM 1002
The horse had seen better days and the stabling was hardly the best but her belonging were precious to her and Mason was not one to squander what little she had after the death of her father. It had been that bastard Earl Edwige who had done the deed and well she knew his type. His sons had all been at the Academy with her – one older, one about the same age and one younger. It was clear who her targets were to be but for now she had her brother to find and hearts to break. Deci also held the less ‘honourable’ members of the Nobility and it would be a good place to start if she was to restore the lost honour to her House.
The Madrak’s had gotten on with the Amora’s at the Academy. The one was Chancellor to the other after all and if Mason was to find out where all the other little bastards were it was plain she would need some inside information. She was so out of touch now, society was pretty much beyond her and things were bound to have changed. Not all the Amora’s of course, Truic had been a stuck up pregnant dog even then, but Flavalia had always been up for giggles and Morilla had seemed intent on scandalising everyone over the age of twenty-one even then. Although young, Morilla had bloomed early and Mason had discovered that she was currently resident in Deci. Of all the nobles in the city she was already by far the most notorious.
The gates opened easily as she strode in and hammered heavily on the door.
“Yes, hello?” Morilla asked politely. Her doorman, a strapping seven foot troll in the finely cut uniform of an Amoran flunkey held the door open upon a visitor. The woman looked familiar but it took some time to place her. “Allyssa?” She finally asked.
“Good evening, Mori.” Mason nodded and entered without invitation, casting her wet cloak over the trolls head as a make-shift hat-stand. “Charming place you have here.” She waved her hand over the expensive décor. It was a little old and gave the appearance of either a very young temple of evil or a very old brothel.
Perhaps both.
Morilla smiled prettily and took her visitor through to a sitting room, ordering a bottle to be opened and cake to be brought. Small talk came first, both were highly educated in such a thing, before the matter of Madrak’s death came to the fore.
“How is your father?” Morilla asked.
“Dead? Killed by Edwige?”
“Oh dear. What a bastard, still, it’s hard work being Chancellor I daresay. Work can get on top of you.”
“Yes Mori…” Mason looked at her host sidewise. It was clear she was casting spells without enough mana. Summoning the spirits without the guidance of the gods. Fighting a dual with the wrong sword. “Edwige?”
“Yummy sons though.” Morilla continued. “The Count’s back now from killing things I hear, Leofric disowned, the Baron serving in the Watch under orders to get ‘more butch’. They do get around don’t they! Oh, I know who I saw the other day, ‘Llyssa! Do you remember Coelen Rutgeth?”
Mason did. The pregnant dog had been responsible for tipping pig’s blood over her during the end-of-year presentations.
“Well, she’s in Thimon now. Merchanting! Can you imagine, how low can you sink!” Morilla laughed from within the immense robe she was huddled within.
By Alan Morgan (CI4V3)