Startup 69: Lobbying

Rova 26, late afternoon

I’d been told before that Sandara’s look followed a popular trend. I’d seen other women with a tight pants, white blouse, outer corset combo here and there. Port Peril had tons of them. I’d even seen some women with their hair dyed red. It was a whole look. I noted that Tessa Fairwind, the trendsetter, must have updated her style since she was an up and comer, but she didn’t abandon it entirely even as crows feet crept across her face.

Her corset was mostly covered by a black jacket with golden epaulettes, which was buttoned up just enough to emphasize her cleavage. Both the corset and pants were enchanted with the same kind of standard armor enhancements I could do, which meant that they’d both keep her organs protected, display her impressive hourglass figure, and resize to be a lot easier to pull on and off.

She had a pistol and a small flute holstered on her belt. Based on the intensity of their enchantments I suspected that the flute was the more dangerous of the two, and it wasn’t close.

She looked good, but I didn’t have time to enjoy the eye candy. I grabbed two chairs from the corner for Shishe and myself, mostly so she wouldn’t have the opportunity to offer me a seat. While I held the chair for Shishe, I made the most of what I’d seen and considered the implications.

Vain enough to want to keep her looks, but practical enough to update as she got older. There is no way that corset is enchanted enough to be her wartime regalia, so she dropped at least a thousand gold pieces on a comfortable push up bra she can wear to the office that just happens to also be a bulletproof vest. Probably a bard, unless there’s another group of people who use magic instruments.

She put her boots on her desk, but she’s the one who called me in here immediately. She wanted to talk to me quickly, but give the impression she doesn’t take me seriously.

“So, I have two questions to start off with.” Fairwind said, “Why are you here, and who the hell is this?”

She gestured vaguely at Shishe, who folded her hands primly in her lap and looked at me.

“She’s a servant of Callistria I’ve worked with before.” I said, “I owe her one, so she was willing to escort me in order to protect her investment. I’m here to report to you about my flags, since I believe I owe you a favor.”

Just racking up debts left and right, but as long as no one is planning on removing my limbs I can afford it.

“She’s not from the temple.” Fairwind said, “Nor are there any other established clerics of Callistria in the Shackles I don’t know about, so you’re violating Bag Island legal code. If you were working for me, that could be a major incident.”

Which is why you’re not actually acknowledging that I answered both questions.

“Not according to any briefing I’ve been given.” I said confidently, “I have permission, and I’m being escorted.”

“I am not a cleric of the House of Stolen Kisses.” Shishe said. “I am, however, a representative of the Callistrian faith.”

She melted into translucent golden goo, like a slime made of honey, and reshaped herself into her natural form. It was a much smaller shift than when she’d turned into me, that was for sure. When she regained color, she had much the same hair and facial features, and her black and yellow exoskeleton could have easily been some kind of exotic armor. The biggest change was her compound eyes, which seemed bigger than the ones she’d entered the room with.

Tessa Fairwind groaned, took her feet off the desk, and pulled out a pipe. She muttered under her breath as she lit up.

“So you’re one of the technically right types.” She said, a hint of disgust in her tone, “Perfect, just perfect.”

“Is there something wrong?” I asked, “I genuinely just wanted to get a few technicalities squared away while I was in town. I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

“What’s wrong is that you think that a vendenopterix standing in makes this acceptable behavior.” She said, “What’s wrong is that I’ve got Jolis Raffles asking awkward questions about why I’ve got a drow on my payroll attacking his ships.”

“Gobron attacked me!” I interjected.

“What’s wrong is that you think that matters.” She snapped, cutting me off. “I’ve got a city to run, you’re making problems, and you think you’re entitled to special treatment. I’m perfectly familiar with your situation; I read Cogward’s report on it last night. Just take your lumps and it’ll be over in a week.”

“You call yourself a Callistrian?” Shishe demanded, her tone acid, “You expect him to simply accept ****?”

The wasp woman stood and glared at Fairwind, who met her gaze with one of mild irritation.

“Sit down and shut up.” Fairwind said calmly, “The mortals are speaking of reality. I have no time for abstractions. He can kill the Bekyar bitch later, but while he’s in this city he will follow its laws, my laws, or he’ll be strung up.”

Shishe stiffened at that, then her chitin grew to cover what little exposed skin she had in a wasplike helmet. Her arms and legs lengthened, and she fell into a deadly posture. Threatening, ready to pounce.

“You would dare to dismiss-“

Fairwind’s hand flashed to her belt and before I knew what was happening she had played a trill on her fife. Several strands of violet enchantment wove together around my summoned companion. Shishe turned and walked out the door past me.

I felt the words woven into the song, a Suggestion. “How about you go take a walk to clear your head and then discuss this with High Priestess Dindreanne.” (Spellcraft 4+13+5 (known spell) = 22)

“Yes, I would.” Fairwind said to the closing door, cracking a smile. “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t hold her against you. I know how her type can get.”

“I appreciate that.” I said, “Should I send her back to her plane? I summoned her, but she’s not bound. I really wanted her to be able to stop me if I did anything to hurt the temple.”

“Please do; I’d rather not have to worry about her.” Fairwind said, “I’ll get you back to the temple after we have a little chat.”

“Ok. What do I need to do?” I said, “You said you’re familiar with my situation? Then you know I’m not in a good position to sit around for a week. I get that I’m not your favorite person, but if you’re ordering me to stick my neck out to make your life easier, that is a big ask.”

Not very macho, but after that casual display of power she was firmly on the distressingly long list of people I probably couldn’t intimidate.

“Step two and you’re already asking reasonable questions? I’ve seen worse.” She mused, “Alright. You’ve reported in. You’re in my fleet as a privateer, feel free to attack any foreign ships in my name that don’t have Shackles Flags, or that have Rampore flags. This isn’t the favor you owe me, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t make too many waves while you’re in Quent. You can leave, I’ll have my teleporter make you a portal back to where you’re supposed to be.”

She’d barely finished speaking before she was picking up a small stack of papers, a clear dismissal. I wasn’t willing to leave that easily; I still had one vital thing I needed to do.

“If that’s all I need to do for you, I’m happy to oblige.” I said, “I need to ask you something else, though.”

She dropped her hand to her desk, the papers still clutched within, and gave me a look of such annoyance I nearly stopped talking.

“Yes?”

“I have someone I need confined for an extended period.” I said, “She’s possessed by a spirit. The Chelish kind, goes by the name Vishgurv. Can you tell me who to talk to? I’m not trying to waste your time, she’s just a threat to herself and those around her.”

“I’ve heard of him.” Fairwind said. “Kill her.”

“No.” I said, “I will not.”

“Why not?” Fairwind asked, her eyes already sliding back towards her papers. “It would be easier, safer, and possibly less cruel. Most possessing entities are not kind to their puppets when the puppet is rendered useless.”

“She’s part of my crew.” I said, “So is her daughter. I don’t leave men behind.”

She raised her eyebrows at that, pursed her lips, and nodded.

“Alright then.” She said, “I’ll keep her if your men turn her over to the guards. I’ll also throw in some advice.”

“I’ll always take free advice.” I said.

She snorted.

“Look kid, I don’t know you, but I can tell you’re powerful. Summoning one of Callistria’s handmaidens is impressive.” She said, puffing on her pipe, “Do you know how long it’s been since I saw a new up and comer who could do something that impressive?”

“No?” I said, “How long?”

“A few months.” She said, her voice growing cold, “and a few months before them, there was another one, for the last forty years. Most of them are dead, a few are already retired. You could be great if you don’t get yourself killed, but so far I’m not particularly impressed. Some of them, like Harrigan, take a whole fleet down with them then limp back and start **** people to rebuild. Some of them, like Blackpowder Svartur, leave a shithole like Goatshead behind. Those are some of the ones that survived.”

I nodded, and the other topic I’d considered speaking with her about died on the vine. If I brought up Varossa and her network of spies, I was fairly certain Fairwind would press for more information. Even so much as a hint about a threat to her city, let alone the Shackles in general, would put her on red alert immediately.

If Fairwind would be willing to help me… no. It might give me some leverage, but not enough to justify aborting half of my missions. Not yet, not unless I was certain she’d at least give me a loan.

Fairwind’s assistant waited for me in the hallway, and escorted me to meet Tessa’s teleporter. I started to feel nervous for a moment when we entered a room full of armored guards, then the assistant tapped one on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. He looked around at the men he was playing cards with.

“Alright, lads.” He said, “Take a leak if you need to, I’ll be back in two shakes.”

The wiry older man nodded at me and held out his hand. I took it, and after a quick flash of blue we were both in the temple’s main hall.

“This is the place, right?” He said, taking a swig from his hip flask.

I nodded. The casual flex of a personal teleporter established her relative power level even more than her dismissal of Shishe. Gobron had one too, but this guy that didn’t even seem to be all that highly ranked had just carried me more than three times as far without a line of sight.

Probably stays with the guards as part of some kind of rapid response team. He might be lower level than me if he’s a one trick pony, but if he’s a generalist that’s pretty scary.

“Thank you.” I said.

“Don’t thank me yet.” He said with a crooked smile, “now it’s my job to go tell the high priestess you’ve been a naughty boy.”

Fuck.

“Wait.” I said, “I’ll come with you. Better than sitting around waiting for a response, right?”

••••••••••

As she floated invisibly through the streets, Dierdre couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer audacity of humans. She knew, generally, that humans could change their roles. Emrys was a drow noble, but he seemed to have distanced himself from that position. Now he was a captain. It was a bigger leap than most fey could manage within one lifetime, but it was logical enough. The woman Emrys had asked Dierdre to follow, on the other hand, was quite a bit more confusing.

Varossa was, apparently, a high ranking noble from a rather powerful nation. Not was in the past tense, was currently. Despite that, she was walking openly on the street despite trying to avoid notice. Oh sure, she was keeping her eyes down and refused to meet anyone’s gaze, but those were commoners’ methods of avoiding notice.

Nobles were supposed to put much more effort into hiding; she even had Hinson and Creed with her. They could have easily carried her wrapped up in a carpet or some other equally appropriate gambit to ensure she wasn’t seen, or at least used magic to make herself invisible. It was shameful, really. Some mortals had absolutely no respect for their roles. A proper fey noble would at disguise herself as an ugly old crone, at the minimum.

She only ducked into a back alley near the end of her trip, probably because that’s where her destination was. She walked right up to a door and knocked on it rhythmically, then waited. When no one came to meet her, she pulled out a long pin and picked the lock in a few moments, then opened the door herself.

Dierdre waited until they were all inside before following. She rather liked being a pixie, and while she was more powerful as an Orphne she got the impression that the crew didn’t much care for her attitude in that form. She couldn’t risk her own skin lightly, and while Varossa refused to play her role appropriately, she might still be deliberately baiting any followers into a trap. Dierdre listened at the door first, and her sharp ears had no trouble hearing Hinson.

“This is bad!” He said, “This is really bad!”

“We are all aware, Mister Hinson.” Varossa said, eyes rolling. “Kindly keep your voice down and your arms limber.”

Dierdre peeked into the tiny window, and saw that the small apartment had been ransacked. Clothes, still half folded, were strewn across the floor. Not a single piece of furniture stood upright, and most were broken.

Luckily, the three entered the bedroom shortly afterward.

“Who do you think it was?” Creed asked, “Snowfeather?”

“Likely, unless it was someone we don’t know about.” Varossa said, “None of our gracious host’s strongest weapons have been at liberty to do such a thing.”

She went immediately to a panel concealed in the wall and quietly cursed when she found it open and empty.

“He’s looking for the Three Reasons too, isn’t he?” Hinson pressed, “What if he knows about Captain Harkalm? At this rate he might find it before we can get out of-“

Varossa took three quick steps across the room at the mention of Captain Harkalm, hissing something at Hinson too quietly for Dierdre to hear.

“Yes my Lady.” He said in response, “Shutting up now.”

“In any event, if another of the Three Reasons has been found, that’s all the more reason to stay close to Captain M’Dair.” She said, “M’Dair might try to play nicely and share his toys, but Hyrix Snowfeather certainly won’t. Now then, let’s go. We are exposed here.”

Dierdre’s smile grew on her face. She had two names now, and Emrys was sitting at the heart of a den of spies. He’d be happy to get more information, she was sure. Maybe she’d tell Syl first, though, just in case there was a threat to the ship.

••••••••••

It was slightly awkward walking past multiple hallways where delighted squeals and grunts echoed down the hallway. The teleporter led me on a route that avoided most of that, but Dindreanne’s office was within that building. I made just enough small talk to find out that his name was “Officer Porter.”

He flashed his badge at several points towards progressively less aesthetic guards. The first few bouncers near the brothel proper were mostly muscular young ladies that didn’t ruin the mood; the final door into Dindreanne’s office was guarded by a person in enameled black armor so practical I couldn’t make out anything about the one wearing it.

“Message for the High Priestess from Lady Fairwind,” my escort said, “The subject of the message decided to come along.”

The guard nodded and opened the door, letting us into an office. The woman inside couldn’t have been older than thirty, and was a total knockout. Blonde bombshell with long, silky blonde hair dyed to have black streaks. She had a gigantic wasp in her lap, which she stroked between the wings like a cat.

She smiled widely and, I suspected, insincerely. Her eyes flicked to my face for a fraction of a second, just long enough for me to be sure she saw me.

“Officer Porter.” She said, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Seems a bit on the nose, but then again it might be a family business. That’s how surnames used to work, right?

“This lad decided he wanted to file some paperwork so badly he couldn’t wait for a cleric.” Porter said, jabbing his thumb at me. “He called up a Vender… Vene… one of those Callistrian wasp ladies to bring him to see Lady Fairwind. She says, and I quote, ‘Do with that what you will.’”

“Apologies, Lady Dindreanne.” I said, bowing, “I wished only to avoid straining your resources on trifles. I meant no offense.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright, Captain.” She said, smiling cheerfully, “It’s just as well we have the opportunity to speak. You may go, Officer Porter, and let Tessa know I’m looking forward to lunch tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Officer Porter slipped out the door, but I sensed the pulse of conjuration magic he left in his wake when he teleported away. He probably didn’t walk three steps into the hallway before vanishing.

Batman vanishing right in front of someone is considered rude. Noted.

“I imagine you must be Emrys!” Dindreanne said, “Please have a seat. While I have you here, I’d love to clear a few things up.”

She kept her tone light, so I did my best to match her energy. I nodded and sat in the chair she offered. I kept the tension out of my face as best I could; this woman was not matching what little I’d been told about her so far.

“I am Captain M’Dair, yes.” I said, “It seems you have me at a disadvantage; I only know your name, Lady Dindreanne.”

“A hazard of my line of work,” she said, “So, I understand you helped my son get out of a bit of trouble a few times?”

“And vice versa.” I said, “He’s a good man to have around.”

“Glad to hear it.” Dindreanne said, nodding, “I can’t thank you enough for bringing him home. We’ve all been worried sick.”

I noted that the wasp looked up at her sharply as she spoke.

Surprise? Skepticism?

Dindreanne placed one hand on its head and pushed it down, smile never faltering.

“I was glad to.” I said, “He’s a friend.”

It had been his idea to come here in the first place, partly to resupply but mostly so he could speak to his contacts. That had somewhat backfired; in theory I was supposed to report to Quent but it was enough of a formality that I’d probably have been better off letting it simmer for a while. I wasn’t going to tell Dindreanne that, however.

Her face shifted to a more somber expression.

“In that case, I’m going to have to ask you to be a good friend to him.” She said, “You see, I think he’s become convinced that he owes you something. He’s effectively thrown away his whole life to follow you, you know.”

Ah. There it is.

“Has he?” I asked, “To my knowledge he’s been sending back reports any time we’ve been in port.”

“They’ve been a bit scant on personal details.” She said, “We are all very worried about him. If you could turn him off your ship while he’s here in a safe place, I think we’d all be much better off.”

“That seems a bit ****.” I said, keeping my voice level, “Like I said, he’s a good person to have around and he seems to be blossoming. I’ll certainly encourage him to keep in touch more; family is important.”

With Linu, at least. So far she hasn’t tried going over his head.

“Of course, of course.” She said, “I’d hate to impose. I’d be very thankful if you were to provide more concrete assistance, however. I might even be able to arrange for a loan. I understand you have quite a financial burden upon your shoulders?”

Time didn’t actually stop, but it might as well have. She smiled at me silently, and I felt nothing but disdain in my chest.

She’s willing to help me, but only if it means driving a wedge between us? No wonder Cog was upset. Time to follow my own rules. Don't go to people for help if you don’t want them to have leverage.

“No, I believe any deal like that would be better arranged through Cog.” I said. “I’m afraid that you seem to be operating under a misconception.”

“Oh?” She said, tilting her head to the side. “What would that be?”

“You seem to think that where Cog goes is my decision,” I said, “or possibly yours. In my experience, I’m pretty sure no one can actually make Cog do anything.”

“A shame, that.” Dindreanne said, her blue eyes becoming chips of ice. “To business then. You will be restricted to your chambers to ensure no more slip ups.”

“Of course, of course.” I said, echoing her. “I would hate to cause trouble.”