un: dappled pearl of the parted seas [voice]

[beitangmoran]

[In the usual background noise that accompanies their communications on the brothel's network, one can hear more distinctly the notes of the guqin, plucked quite intentionally to draw attention. The slight musical accompaniment will continue all along the communication as Moran's voice rises to tell the tale he was told.

It doesn't require secrecy, he thinks, since it was told to him by a local and is obviously common knowledge here, and while there is no way to verify how true it is, knowing what people believe happened is as important as knowing what actually happened.]

Once upon a time, in a land that would then become Sa-Hareth, there lived many mountain tribes. And in their midst was a young warrior named Arne, renowned for his kind heart and his strength and his bravery, and the men of his tribe wanted him to succeed as their next chieftain.

Their current chieftain, however, wanted his son to succeed him and loathed Arne's popularity among the people. When Arne came to ask for his daughter's hand and to be named his successor, he wanted to refuse, but he knew his people would revile him for it. So he decided to design a trial, that Arne's rejection or demise could be attributed to fate and the gods instead of him. So he ordered him to prove his commitment and ordered him to be bound three days and three nights against the oldest tree of the forest. To prove himself, Arne must stay as he was put and never flinch or ask release, and hold on to his ring.

Arne agreed, and it came to pass. The chieftain was devious and wanted Arne to fail the trial, so he sent people to taunt him and tempt him away. But Arne's spirit was undaunted and he resisted all attempts to make him give up. Finally, in his despair, the chieftain called upon malicious spirits, and they sent a bear to attack Arne still bound to the tree.

The bear mauled him and took his arm within its jaws, but still Arne made no sound and bore the pain of the attack, even as the bear's teeth closed on his arm and all but severed it. And once the three days and three nights had passed, Arne then freed himself and killed the bear. His arm could not be saved and Arne had it cut off, but before that he showed he had held his side of the bargain and in his severed hand the ring was still held. The chieftain had no choice but to give up his mantle to him and Arne was then even more renowned for his fearlessness and bravery.

After this, it became a manhood rite of passage in the tribe that every boy of age should get a tattoo of a red sleeve circle on their arm, and then be bound to that same tree for three days and night. And thus, Arne came to be known, among all the people as Anurr the Bold and Anurr the Red Sleeve, or Anurr the Red.

[The music finally stop after a few more plucked notes.]

I was told this story by some of the locals. It appears to be an origin story of sorts for the Red-Sleeves, and it might explain why the people seem not to be too adverse to them, in spite of their own misdeeds. They too were people of this land once.

[Another moment of 'silence' - as much of it as there always it in the brothel, and then...]

Bai Mingyu, I have what you requested.

[handmaiden of unsheathed swords] voice posted:

[darkeststars]

This is Darth Imperius. I will be brief.

By now you've presumably all heard the details of Karsa's proposal. I don't have her ability to block out extra ears, so if you haven't, take it up directly with her.

I intend to organize our half of this operation. Some of you have already told me you're coming, but I would like a count of heads to know the size of our force and what skills we'll have at our disposal. We will likely be taking point on the more dangerous part of this op, so if you cannot fight, stay home. I will speak with you all about the schedule in person and deliver a full briefing on the day of.

Any actionable details or useful intelligence are welcome, preferably not over the quartz. Bai Mingyu or Eleven generally know where to find me.


[ Anyone is welcome. If you already signed up OOCly to participate, feel free to assume your character volunteered offscreen rather than replying here. Arche will be delivering info about scheduling and operational plans to everybody offscreen for players' convenience.

I will have to pause tags on this at some point but I'll be back tomorrow (Sunday)! ]

username: lady of the willow tree | audio

[aprescoup]

( She is heat and storm and hissing anger: ) You fools. And me, fool, listening to the master, helping! ‘Who could have known, Karsa, who could have known?’ I could have known, you could have known, any woman with sense could have known! Men? Men know nothing. You steal from a merchant, what does he do, eh? What does he do?

( A pause, as if she nearly expects an answer — before continuing, impatiently: )

He makes more coin. Do you know whose gold you took? Whose gems you took? Who made a large deposit at La Rea just when you all broke in? Do you know? Do you know who? Torsten. Congraaaatuuulaaaaations. The high merchant. The Torsten who won the auctions, the Torsten who inked a grand salt supply contract he needs that money to pay for. The Torsten who is bringing the great-bellied best, that ship Imperious in a few days. To make up for it.

( But she’s quieting, at least. ) And on it, he brings something powerful. We hear… the master hears. A commission. Because when merchants lose money, pah! They turn into smugglers. They say Unhalad’s brothers hired Torsten to bring in... help for him. Everyone heard about the bodies on the pillars two weeks ago. Unhalad’s own people picked out and killed, no, they can’t have that. No one… no one in the east sent help to Sa-Hareth when the dead took us over, but the dead, eh? The dead help each other. Funny, no? The world. And funny, you. What are you doing? Wasting time, with tales since grandmother was too young to even open her legs. ‘Arne the Red,’ who cares? How can a man survive three days and three nights in the tundra cold? He doesn’t. But you waste time on that, instead of —

( Bitterness and bile and she pieces herself together again. )

There is one matter of gladness. Unhalad’s allies sent him... some sustenance, as well as his weapon. More like you. Hopefully better than you, ah? Not fools? A handful of captives. Every man and woman and child deserves freedom. We will cut them loose. And tell Haltham, if you see him, there is work beyond sniffing the salt.

( Determined, then: ) Now. My people, we infiltrate. And we brave the instrument. But we are few. Eight? And... maybe exercise will do you well, ah? Keeps you from other foul business? Help free your fellows from the Imperious. We go together to the ship, but we each do our part. And we succeed.

I have more of the quartz for speaking, when you free them. Ten pieces? I will send them. Like I sent you quartz to... visit La Rea. And you made gain. So now I ask my cut: some 7,000 coins would provide us enough supply to make a few men friends, to procure some sailor garb… while, alternatively, 13,000 pieces would get us... a more substantial distraction. Who is coming? And how much gold can you give?


( ooc: This is a precursor to the ship rescue test drive & game event that our resident Sith Lord player proposed. Full event details will go up on 27 April! )