npc inbox: sa-hareth + stairs of sighs

[groundrules]

NPC INBOX: SA-HARETH

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CURRENTLY WITH THE PARTY

	THE MERCHANT username: raven master The patron saint of etiquette and the eastbound getaway expedition. Seems to largely trade information alongside wares. Appreciates spices, strategy and collaboration. Has an eerie and overly cautious manner. Committed. Defends the benefit of the many, to the detriment of the few.
	KARSA username: lady of the willow tree Sorceress, young (?). Employed by the Merchant and deferential to him. Talented but fiery and frequently impatient, intolerant of fools. She will get today's job done yesterday. Struggles to sympathise with men, objections and those who cannot absorb information quickly. Enchanted the group's translation devices.
	ASGEIRR The ghost of a scholar monk. Haunts the tattered execution cloak that the party stole from the La Rea bank in Sa-Hareth. Once a champion of equality and freedom, he faced ire for converting his followers against the regionally profitable trade of slavery. Soft-spoken but wise and just, slow to regain his strength. Will speak to those who visit his cloak in brief interludes. Favours necromancers.
	MAZYAR Charlatan, crook or wise man, Mazyar has worn all the names. Once an exceptionally skilled smuggler, now an equally apt tradesman and caravan master, allied with the Merchant. Less cryptic than his 'associate,' if more prone to riddles and keen on items with value.
	GHOST ARMY OF ARHA A maudlin, marauding and eerily fixated army led by the young lord Arha through the Stairs of Sighs. They seek to rescue Arha's oracle lover Hatisse from Taravast.
	OUHRSSON Guys, it's a bear.

SA-HARETH

	"HALTHAM" | ANURR username: Haltham | illiterate The undead warlord Anurr, previously posing as gentle-mannered giant Haltham. An embodiment of Sa-Hareth's cold storms and wind, who regained his territory from contender Unhalad with the inadvertent help of the party in Arc I. Frostily rational and amenable to some negotiation.
	THE (NOT-SO) GOOD PEOPLE From distressed locals to busy-bee merchants, guards, enchanters, tradesmen, politicians and looser-tongued courtesans — never underestimate the value of indiscretion in a citadel built on commerce, rumour and stubbornly choosing to ignore the expanding rule of the undead. Not every piece of gossip or legend's worth your time, but beggars can't be choosers.

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[groundrules]

Mistress Tamaiu is ever pleased to receive one of her best regarded, least fastidious and most profitable assets. She does not often extend the courtesy of sweets and wine unto her own courtesans, but certain accommodations must be made for those who own their freedom and may yet withdraw their employment.

Of course, she welcomes Mingyu well, whispering a bounty of compliments — what fair, porcelain skin he has, and how honeyed his tongue, and these hands, of course, the grip on them — no wonder some of the clientele is so enamoured. And of course she is nothing if not earnestly pleased with his performance. Why, she even asks one of the younger courtesans in training to showcase her dance talents for Mingyu's entertainment.

This is a house of renown, after all — a beacon of the arts, within and outside the sheets.

[descendency]

Mingyu proves a warm, duly grateful guest at Mistress Tamaiu's generosity, paying her and her establishment compliments in kind. He offers pointers to the courtesan in training, plays a heartfelt, yearning song on his erhu, and genuinely has a pleasant time with their generous host. Then, once they are free of all other company and Mingyu is preparing to depart again, he stops to catch Tamaiu's hands to draw her in, whispering in her ear.

'Who is the man we trust, Mistress? Where was he these six years gone?'

He begs her wisdom in these tumultuous times. A house of pleasure such as this is the very pulse of this land, after all.

[groundrules]

Ah, but she had trusted in the other pretty-faced man, with his gift of wine and sweet words, and look, then — he spread the word, betrayed the trust. He gave the one man notice, and...

And her other beautiful boy, he knows. She has been too long sweet-hearted for him to deny him now, and, requesting the apprentice a fresh song to shroud her words, she shares this much: that man emerged some ten years earlier from the forest, with his sharp eyes and his huntsman's smile, and he knew the words to say, him and his stories. Of course, the ports were opening then, truly welcoming merchants, and the citadel expanded. Word from the east was that other dead lords were rising. Anurr, so long entrenched among the free people despite his ancient rule, planned to show his face once more and strengthen his position, before his subjects forgot him.

When foreigners appeared, of course Tamaiu suspected Anurr's messengers. Who would not? The man was too strong, too curious, too convenient. But for four years, he was among the men of the citadel, and he never crossed a boundary, never spoke a word out of turn. When Unhalad and his people turned up, the man stayed out of their path.

Then, seven years ago, the war of the lords began. And within the year, Anurr and his closest confidants were imprisoned.

The man was six years gone, and now he is returned, and so are Anurr's lieutenants. And there are coincidences in this world, but —

"Beautiful boy, Tamaiu's boy, the flowers of our trade know better than to trust in hazard." And softer still, "Now, you be gone, and you send word carefully and sparingly, because, true, a dead gaze can't see to read, it is known. But you can't trust the living eyes that would do the work."

She will attempt to guide Mingyu back to inspecting the local sweets, thereafter.

[descendency]

Ah, but he lingers, beseeches her, his gaze doe-eyed, young, and imploring.

"Mistress, if nothing else I hope I have proven to you the heights of my discretion. Who is the man?" he presses, keeping her close, their conversation intimate.

"I have nowhere else to turn for answers. You have been good to me, and I hope I have done you justice in return." He pauses, then adds— "...I should like to hear the outcome you hope for as well. If I leave you, when I leave you, I would like it to be in glory."

[groundrules]

Sweet boy, clever boy, his hands and his tongue then, and how he works them. Tamaiu knows the trickery of men, she worked the pleasure quarters before she rose to rank. She remembers. No flattery under the sun is new, and yet he peppers his with the right persuasions.

He would like to leave in glory. And she, having already spoken her share, might yet at least reap some benefit.

"Beautiful boy, Tamaiu's boy, I ask two lesser things of you. If you agree to them both, you will have your name."

The first is coin, inevitably: soon, the ports will open again, and all the vessels stranded outside will bring in droves of frustrated, ill-appeased merchants. She must welcome them as her precious boy says, in glory — the glory of a communal, en masse tryst, enhanced by the finest wines and opiates. Of course, Mingyu should attend the orgy.

And secondly: when he leaves, he must take with her a girl of sixteen, fresh-faced, destined for better, and drop her off at the first citadel that knows prosperity and peace. He must look after her and provide for her, and watch for her health and her honour. She is Tamaiu's niece.

[descendency]

Mingyu braces himself, inwardly, for the price to be paid. He is startled to find it less steep than he imagined, even more startled to realize how deep and genuine his fondness for his mistress runs. A fickle and dangerous thing to have, a beating heart. It was better when his was broken.

But he smiles, he nods, he promises her it all. He will attend to the merchants, to their every need, will make her house's hospitality renowned the world over. And her niece will be safe, protected like his own blood, with his own blood. He will send word, and proof, back as often as able. These are things he is glad to do for her regardless of favor. Still, he begs the name.

[groundrules]

She is grateful, far too grateful — to excess. Witches, she knows, swear their oaths in blood, and merchants write their contracts. She is only a woman and cannot ask a man to swear himself, not when she has made her trade of pretending she is unfettered and carefree.

And later, she will bring her niece, and she will pass her into her boy's custody. It will break her heart, but it must be done, before the girl grows to see the only profession a girl can aspire to in Sa-Hareth without exposure to the clashes is the one of her aunt's house.

For now, Tamaiu takes Mingyu's hand, and she honours her word, "You call him Haltham, but I know, though he does not name himself, he was Arne once."