npc inbox: taravast

[groundrules]

NPC INBOX: TARAVAST

Reach out to your (not-so-)favourite NPC here, putting their name in the comment header. Try to keep it to just quick text/audio/written exchanges or inquiries that can accept summarised answers, please!

PREVIOUS NPC INBOX FOR ARC I: SA-HARETH & STAIRS OF SIGHS

	MACALUSO Earnest and moderate nephew of Bonaccorso, seeking to succeed his grandfather. A pursuer of astronomy, accountancy, diplomacy and elemental magic, with a long history of supporting the witches of Bessis. Champions firmer ties with foreign citadels to improve Taravast's access to armies and resources. Looking to choose a bride.
	VANNOZZA Beautiful and fierce niece of Bonaccorso, contending to become the next Ilia Doxe. Mind of a scientist and a lady of the hunt. A practitioner and frequent visitor of the necromantic and healing sectors. Has entertained and turned away more lovers than the heroine of a particularly sappy romance novel. Often indisposed.
	RIGARDA Lively, charismatic and gossip-prone lady of the highest echelons, received at every gathering. Can slaughter half a dozen reputations with the right twitch of her brows before breakfast. An associate of the Merchant's and old friend of the current Ilia Doxe of Taravast, Bonaccorso. Indifferent in the game of succession. Loathes crumpets and witches.
	THE LAVISH LOCALS From the witches of Bessis or Attaryl to academicians, politicians, nobles, servant folk, artists or protestors — if you’ve got a question, someone can surely supply an answer.
	THE MERCHANT 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 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. Only available until 28/12.
	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.

SA-HARETH

"HALTHAM" | ANURR 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.

Comments

[weifinder]

"Death is only fertile for the mushrooms, the insects, and the scavengers. Death that doesn't acknowledge itself isn't fertile for anything but the breeding of war, and one tires of war, for any people."

He clucks his tongue, shakes his head. "Very bad for the business of future generations if everyone's perishing in this one. While Taravast won't be my final resting place," and oh, his smile drags into something sardonic at that, "I can hope that as you seize its moments, your will remains strong enough to ensure it won't be in its final throes. If Taravast is the light held up to illuminate this world, then may it not be swallowed by the shadows of its own casting."

Yet he laughs, waving his hand, posture relaxed and careless. Eyes less so, sliding her way, and he winks. "It needn't be my life or my people's lives for me to find the preservation of it precious. To what extent one passing through can offer assistance, Lady Spina, that's the simplicity of what one might do."

[aprescoup]

"Of course, of course. We must think of the children." And she returns the wink, hand soft, circling his knee. What does she want? Some might call the answer plain, following the latest invitation, only the lady does not persist.

"I have my ways, sir. As you do yours. And haven't we found that the finest magic is explored discreetly? We are all performers. Allow me to perform."

[weifinder]

He doesn't even blink, simply keeps smiling, until her hand subsides and her words are what linger between them. Then, he might lay a hand over hers, should it remain on his person. He doesn't hunt after touch, either way.

"The stage, my dear lady, is yours." Mercenary, to profit from any that might still survive and not have sold themselves into the undead lord brothers of Unhalad's services. What in it is just, ah? Except that war always costs, and Taravast is not so secure as all that. Ducking his head a touch, what would be boyish charm if one chooses to see it as such, smiling at her with a touch of sympathy.

For who, or what, is hard to say.

"May it be a stunningly subtle performance."

[aprescoup]

"We are certainly visions of subtlety in Taravast. Ask my good friend Wen Qing." But she turns her hand to squeeze his, childishly, emptily playful. Content in her own way, negotiating intimacy. "When I was a child, I asked my grandfather why we wear masks in the street. Is it protection? Is it to show our wealth? He said, Vannozza, it is to protect the world from our monstrous faces."

She laughs first, late. Shrill. "Isn't that funny?"

[weifinder]

He smiles, because part of him does find it funny, in the same way that anything horrific has an undertone of the darkly amusing.

"Funny, ah? At least that way we can pretend the only mask is physical."

The truly monstrous reality as he leaves his hand to be played with like a bone, is how faces are their own masks, public to private, and internal to external. Visions of subtlety indeed, Lady Spina, Lady Wen, and Wei Wuxian.

"As it is, Lady Spina, I won't continue to occupy your time. You've been more gracious." He has a cold bed to go crawl into, it's going to be great.

[aprescoup]

"Ah. So soon." But her hand withdraws, with the bittersweet resignation of one whose distant hopes and dreams have been entirely suandered.

"I suppose you've exhausted yourself enough already with all the calls to your... duty that another would overwhelm." She does gaze for a moment, long and mean and measuring of the goddess' body. Then, she waves the servant to finish her feast and open young master Wei Wuxian his doors. "Next time. For now, a good night."

[weifinder]

Super exhausting, he had a whole attempted conversation with the man he's unaware he's married to earlier, even more of a trial than the enthused couple the night before trying to pull him into blessing their bed personally. The utter boldness of these people.

He smiles, nodding his head to her and catching up his rabbit mask if he can.

"Unlike the goddess, I can only boast a mortal's flesh and all it's limitations. Good evening, Lady Spina."

Take him away, fruit devouring maid!