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[Maltruism]

Behind Closed Doors

This new topic is intended to allow you, as players, to know about decisions arrived at by the movers and shakers of Etzos and its outlying towns. This enables you to know what policies are being newly enforced or undergoing testing to determine viability. This is not replacing the seasonal calendar, but will complement it by giving me the means to add details that come up in response to events in your threads.

Now, this is NOT to be considered PC knowledge. Your PCs are not privy to these discussions. Nor are they always going to involve the same NPCs. But it will give you the means to have your PCs encounter events and results stemming from these decisions as they are put into action. It will also allow me to drop clues about ideas that may be percolating in my fevered mind for future use.

It will also serve as the "Impact Threads" topics in other towns, meaning that if you finish a thread that you feel will have significant ramifications upon the good people of Etzos (or even the villains), you may contact me with your views of what rumors or horrors hit the street, and I will mod the discussion that results. Now, given that virtually ANY event could have some degree of impact, I am not guaranteeing that I will include it. But being the old layabout that I am, I am always willing to consider letting you guys do my work for me.

[Maltruism]

Backstage, Crescent Arena

45 Zi'da, arc 717

The Hero of Oscillus walked into the tunnel, the smiling facade now replaced by the far more genuine scowl. High Marshall Parhn followed close behind, his broad beam every bit as sincere. The roaring echo of the cheering crowd following them both into the chambers behind the event area.

Chief Adviser Vuda gave Doran a nod of appreciation, before approaching Parhn. There was no doubt the High Marshall would be somewhat deflated in enthusiasm if he saw that the focus of the crowd's interest did not seem to relish the spectacle as he did. Parhn loved the attention and would feel it annoyingly wasted for it to fall on unappreciative ears.

"My Lord, Sir Doran has many preparations to attend to. Let him be about them." Vuda purred, making so bold as to catch the High Marshall's arm to halt his steps. Was it anyone else, Parhn would have turned upon them in anger, demanding they recognize their place and remove their offending hand. But where there was just a barely noticeable flash of anger, the Empathic charge of the armor he wore brought him into swift agreement with the "wisdom" of his Chief Adviser's words.

Doran did not stop, but continued on his way, showing more haste to leave than he'd showed on his arrival a break ago. Vuda could see that the man was well beyond fed up with his celebrity. Vuda could certainly understand that. He too wished that such public prominence was not required for his agenda. As much as he was able to stay behind the scenes, being only an "Adviser". The need to ensure that the enchantment on the High Marshall's armor was directed to his benefit required his attendance at most events.

Normally, he did not attend the Ten-Trial Games. They were most often nothing more than the means for feuding individuals to settle grudges, though they often initiated more new grudges than they settled. There were fairly rare occasions, however, where major announcements spiced the event up. This was definitely one such occasion. Regardless of how many actual attendees there were, the news would soon spread its way to the streets of Etzos and beyond...

Sir Doran, The Hero of Oscillus, had been raised to the position of Ambassador.

[Maltruism]

The Clerk-Missives Dept.
Tower of Ministers

70 Zi'da, arc 717

The daily bundle from Foster's Landing was dropped off on the chair beside him. The clerk sighed and began rifling through them. It was the usual requests for donations or gifts; requests for increased Black guard presence in some areas, with examples of justifications included. There were ideas for festivities and events, though mostly those celebrated by only a very small minority.

Crop reports took a far higher priority than these nuisances. As well as opinions of the ever-decreasing viability of relying on pirates to form the foundation of an Etzos naval force. Though he was not truly privy to such discussions, the scuttlebutt was that this was one of the primary goals the new Ambassador Doran was going to try to finagle from the Rynmere nobility. How they loved their gems in Rynmere! Surely enough to bestow a few expert shipwrights. Etzos already had the lumber.

Military requisitions, weather warnings, unconfirmed reports of increased pirate depravations, contrary to what the bastards were being granted amnesty for. An incident of unacknowledged diplomatic immunity by a high-ranking member of the Mason's Guild. Tavern fights leaking out into the streets and causing collateral damage to nearby shops. They, in turn demanding compensation.The clerk chuckled. None of this was his problem. wasn't this what the Ten-Trial Games were for?

He shook his head in amusement, but it halted abruptly. A missive from Rynmere? Already? had Sir Doran already accomplished some grand bargain for naval growth? The clerk loved it when he got to bring such news to the council. He tore the missive open and started reading....

A scowl replaced the eager, bright-eyed expression. Just some nonsense about a criminal in Rynmere...no, Scalvoris? The clerk rolled his eyes. No one was going to care about this sort of thing. A criminal...big deal...every town has that problem. Why should Etzos worry about one of Scalvoris' lot? Glancing back, he saw that there was a small measure of pertinence.

The criminal in question, one "Noth", was a name known fairly well to the guards and ministers here. He'd heard them mention the guy in passing now and then. But they already knew he was a criminal. And they already knew he lived in the Etzos area. This was no news at all. The bigger news related to this 'Noth' guy was the bounty on his head.

The clerk had heard that there was some doubt as to whether the source even had the nel to back it up. No, this was nothing to intrude on any of the council members about at this time. He set it atop a stack of other unimportant missives. There was no hurry to report this.

[Maltruism]

Chief Adviser's Office
Tower of Ministers

73 Zi'da, arc 717

There was definitely some merit to this proposal...

Chief Adviser Vuda leaned back, his chin cupped in his hand, as his gaze searched an uncertain distance though and beyond the wall of his office. His subordinate in the Black Guard "Sorcery Division", as some liked to call it, was standing before him, calmly waiting for his decision. Vuda appreciated Master Torvyn as one of the few of his subordinates that did not cringe and shrink from unpleasant reactions to unpleasant reports.

Ever-escalating accounts of this cursed faction, 'Al'Angyryl', and its self-styled "Prince", were finding their way across his desk. The most recent coming from reliable sources, verifying that its leader was wielding some inexplicable new mental control over groups of citizens in the farmlands and beyond. It was proving nigh impossible to track down for this very same reason. These folks were either turning an unaccountable degree of loyalty to him, judging by how there was never anyone willing to give testimony about it; or the rumors were entirely false for the same reason.

Vuda knew enough about his own hold over his agents to reject the latter explanation. They would never cross him. But this "code-of-silence" made it impossible to gauge how far the "Prince of Eternal Mercy"s influence had spread, or where any new expansion might be spreading.

Torvyn had arrived to bring a report that would normally have been passed around for its entertainment value. One of his subordinates had brought report of a 'bounty' being placed on the rebel's head. One sizeable enough to bring bounty hunters running from all four corners of Idalos. While this would normally be good news, the second paragraph of the report detailed the agent's certainty that the contractor did not possess the ten-thousand nel promised.

Vuda did not much care for the prospect of dozens of foreign mercenaries being disappointed by this detail, and most likely stirring up anything they could use as a basis to go on paid killing sprees. There was enough of that trouble with the local versions. The agent, one by the name of O'Connor, better known as "Zipper", was waiting for word of how she should proceed. When Vuda heard the name of the contractor, a man called "Gangui", it rang an uncertain bell from some past confrontation with a pair of dangerous foreign mages.

Gangui had kept his loyalty to Etzos and Vuda, if not to much great effect. Vuda valued that trait nonetheless, and the situation would now be well-served by returning the favor. "Very well, Master Torvyn." he smiled and nodded, handing back the report, "Inform this agent Zipper that Etzos will honor the bounty. Tell any that succeed in killing this insufferable "Prince", that the balance of the bounty will be honored by our Guidance Counselor, Mr. Tagley."

[Maltruism]

War Strategy Chamber
Tower of Ministers

53 Zi'da, arc 717

Marshall Royce betrayed no reaction to the look of incredulous disgust on High Marshall Pahrn's face. "Farmers?!" his commander bellowed, "You suffered this defeat at the hands of farmers?"

"I would not go so far as to call it 'defeat', my lord. We took double what we lost." The Under-marshall replied. He knew that this was not going to be well received, but had already decided it was the best way to work the conversation in the direction he needed. Anyone that had dealt regularly with Parhn knew that the man needed to vent before he would truly listen.

Nor was he mistaken about the reception. The level of sarcasm in Parhn's voice could have raised the Tower another floor. "Oh!...Well, then!...Double!...I stand corrected! Your trained, hand-picked men were able to count two for one against untrained, unarmored rabble armed with pitchforks and clubs! Well done, sir! I can retire now knowing my city is safe!"

Marshall Royce opted not to mention that Tridents had long since been accepted as a viable weapon of war, and were not that far removed from pitchforks. As for clubs, they'd been a default weapon of every race and culture since the dawn of mortals. "I'm sure my lord is well versed on the many advantages of surprise."

He paced just a bit as he continued, "My men had been on maneuvers among these same farmers for a season or more, and they'd shown no sign, even of discontent, that entire time; let alone open rebellion. They came right in among us, all smiles, and suddenly attacked. And you may wish to take note of the fact that they fought to the death, every last one...They would NOT be taken prisoner. I saw three of their wounded cut their own throats to prevent it."

Royce was proven right again by Parhn's obvious interest in these last two details. He was listening now. "So you think this was planned? More than just some one-time hysterical outburst? Did these people chant some phrase detailing a grievance of some sort? Some incident they were reacting to?"

"There were a good dozen of them, my lord. All jumbled, as if they were rotating in their minds as they fought. No consistency, like it was not truly what was motivating them. They were simply spoiling for a fight, and grasping at anything for justification. Hardly what would bring any sane man to fight to the death." Royce responded blandly, focusing more on the intuitive look on his commander's face.

The details were recapped and reexamined several times before they reached what seemed like the obvious accord, "An Empath!" Parhn hissed. "Filthy, brainwashing empath!" he was about to launch into additional vilification of those who practiced that domain, but he was cut off by Royce's agreement that it was the most likely cause.

Parhn turned a vicious grin upon his Under-marshall, "Very well...Let's lure this bastard out." He glanced again at the map, "Bolstrum should make a good target. Let's let it "slip" that it is overstocked; and only manned by a skeleton crew, and that we're worried about a repeat incident."

He turned away, facing the window, his eyes visualizing future retribution, "When they come to exploit it, smiling or not, we won't be taken by surprise. We have sizeable sub-level storage there. Bring Torvyn there. He's back from his "Turkey" mission in Foster's. Dress him like a Highmark. He can rupture an army straight into those chambers over a few trials. And he can trap a few rebels with his Abrogation. We'll have prisoners to question this time."

[Maltruism]

Vuda's Private Chambers
Tower of Ministers

17 Ashan, arc 718

"It is confirmed, my Lord. The Venoran Noble has returned." The words were spoken by a man of non-specific appearance; his attire not indicative of either high or low status. He was the sort of citizen that would not attract attention of any class within the city. But his ambition did not stop at this indeterminate level. He yearned for elevation within the very tower within which he now gave his report.

The look on the face of the man with whom he spoke did not promise any such rise, though. Chief Advisor Vuda did not act as if this was any great degree of enlightenment. His expression remained emotionless for several ticks before allowing a sigh that did not indicate relief. "He is no longer a noble, Scherling. Developments in Andaris would either strip him of such status, or require that he enjoy it in a warded prison."

There was a pause as Vuda rose to his feet slowly, "And can you connect him to the rabble-rouser who's been inflaming citizens against the Coven? Or has this troublemaker managed to disappear every time into the very crowd he gathers?"

Vuda himself filled in the blank left by Scherling as he grappled for words that might suggest more success. "No my Lord," the advisor mocked, "We have not been able to capture him, and are therefore speaking out of our collective ass when we say we've confirmed anything."

Scherling, however, was not the deferential worm many other such sycophants were. It was one of the reasons Vuda liked him. His subordinate eyes flared angrily as he kept a civil tone with the Chief Advisor. "If I may be allowed to speak my own words, my Lord, every one of these crowd scenes are equidistant from a particular inn, The Cow and Corset. If, as we believe, he is using Becoming to throw off pursuit, he may well have gone to that well one too many times as he made his escape."

Vuda considered that this Venoran, this Alistair, had been intimately connected to a notorious Becomer named Fridgar. It had long stood to reason in his beliefs that such men would naturally share this domain with each other. Men of such "leanings" might just find a perverse fascination in taking each others' forms for their salacious pursuits. A way in which they might literally 'fuck themselves'.

He could see a curiosity on Scherling's face as to why he suddenly chuckled, but made no effort to explain. "Go on." he encouraged.

Scherling set aside his curiosity, "Well, my Lord, I have a pair of witnesses that swear that the description of the man raising a crowd three trials ago fits a man seen entering the Cow and Corset. And a different face enticing a similar crowd the day before that was then seen there just the night before last. I have asked the desk what room these men had, and was told that there was no such room rented to them, but that there was a room they were seen at rented by a different man. One that was seen with the Venoran gentlemen just last night at the "Inn for Dinner".

Vuda's eyes stayed fixed upon the man as his hand absently cupped his chin, "Hmmmm....hardly conclusive, is it."

It was not a question, and Scherling did not treat it as one; instead responding with a question of his own. "Does that matter, my Lord?"

Vuda's cool gaze slowly developed a smile.

[Maltruism]

The Stage of the Crescent Arena

Vhalar 20, 719

The Questions:

Why should we trust you?
Do you expect us to all start worshipping you now?
When can we go after the rest of the Immortals?
Will any other Immortals visit Etzos now that you are here?

The look of wounded acceptance cultivated sympathy as the Immortal looked to find words. After a long sigh, she nodded, "I guess I best get used to addressing this question any time I take this stage. You are right. I have said it before. My contribution to the removal of my sister was not in any manner of combat. All I could do without inadvertently bolstering my sister's health and strength, through close proximity, was to open the veils of Emea, so your brave soldiery could do what needed to be done. I have not claimed to have delivered even a single stroke to rid you of your enemy. And so, by extension, I do not claim to have earned your trust....yet. In any joint venture there must be trust on one or both parts."

She stood a little taller, "This certainly applies to any thought of worship as well." she gave just a slight snort of derision to the very idea. "While I do not deny that it would strengthen me, my very purpose is to ultimately be among friends here. So what pressing need is there for me to gain strength? It will only be if we come under another attack that it would serve my capability to respond with protective strength. Such things I leave up to your good judgement."

Another wince of discomfort crossed her face at the next questions. "I am afraid I have given rise to more fear than is warranted, but perhaps also more bravado than is advisable. I did not mean to suggest any knowledge of any other active plots against Etzos, and not all the Immortals should be considered potential enemies. I simply mean that through the cruelty of my sister..." her head hung in shame, "...Etzos has been greatly weakened."

"I am not loved among my own kind. Many tales give accounts both accusing and vindicating for this fact. Some say I am a monster, and they give testimony that can never be verified to support or refute it. But do not ALL powerful people have detractors that spread lies and slander about them? I have interfered in the plans of many of my kind's plots. I could tell you that it was always to help mortals. But I could not prove it. And no, I often sought my own ends. But they were never at the expense of mortals, though this too is only on my word. Again it falls back on trust. I bid you, take all the time you need. But be warned that many eyes are on Etzos now in its current state, and not all of them wish an alliance. My presence here will be a strong deterrent to the hostile ones.

"But make no mistake, Lisirra was uniquely vulnerable to your ghost soldiers, if only because they were not vulnerable to her. This is hardly true of every other Immortal. It would be recklessness in the truest sense to 'go after' Any others of my kind. As for others coming to visit. Like I said, I seem to be marked as one of the "bad ones". I seriously doubt there is going to be some rush of my kin to visit either you or me."

[Maltruism]

The Stage of the Crescent Arena

Vhalar 30, 719

The Questions:

Why are there so many spiders in my house?
Can you see through the eyes of any spider?
Living in the Underground, will you be cleaning that dirty place up?

The Immortal looked briefly puzzled by the disturbed tone of voice of the one who asked. "I'm so sorry, I genuinely forget that many mortals find the appearance of my children repulsive. In truth, it is why I take this appearance before you now. Many would say I am deceiving you by appearing this way; like I am trying to deceive you into thinking I am mortal like you. Well, I can only say that I presume you to be smarter than those people. Every knows what my true form is. I fully admit to it. So naturally being of such form myself, I find the arachnid design beautiful, but I take no offense in the hesitance anyone may have to endure something they find unpleasant."

Realizing she had not truly answered yet, she reacquired eye contact with the inquirer, "I'm sorry, I got off track. I'm not sure what you mean by 'so many' spiders. You surely realize every home has spiders in it. Were there none, you'd be overrun with the disgusting minions of my sister. There is a reason insects have the same matron as disease. They are filthy things, bringing excrement and rot wherever they go. My children devour them and metabolize that filth into the lovely webs you see highlighted by fresh morning dew."

She cut short her self indulgent memories of grand patterns of dew-strung wonders to smile sympathetically upon the woman, "But yes, of course, I can remove them ALL if you wish. I would advise you to put up with a few though. The filth a single insect brings into your home can be the beginning of another outbreak of disease."

The tone, if not the very wording, of the next question suggested suspicion of the Immortal's surveillance over those she would count as friends. She appeared to take no offense, "Not in the way you think, I don't believe. It is not as though I have some array of spy glasses watching everyone. It is really the spider herself who gives such signal to me. Now, I can certainly request such contact from any of my children. But if I need something specific, I am not going to send out a general request. I would get thousands of responses all at once, and be unable to make any sense of them."

A sudden realization seemed to strike her, and she turned back to the woman who had expressed upset over the number of spiders in her home. "In fact, good mother, you benefit in this way as much as anyone, by having my children in your home. Given any sort of extra connection to me..." she did not say the word 'worship', leaving the hint to be realized later, "...my children would know to alert me of anything troubling your household."

Her face radiated benevolence for this great boon, and the next question fit right into the subject, "Yes of course, as your High Marshall has agreed, the Underground is rife with filth and crime. My children and I will purge it of the remnants of my sister's depredations; some of which a few of you have already encountered. We will also eliminate the trash and detritus of the corruption cluttering the entire area. the Underground will be clean again."

She looked around to those that flashed looks of horrific memories of monstrous insects confronted below the streets, "Yes, I see it in your eyes. You have seen the beasteal creatures Lisirra planted below. Great insect beasts ravaging whole sectors. No doubt intended to dig their way to the surface and wipe out the last of any survivors of her pestilential maladies. Some have already been eliminated by brave guards and citizens. My children and I will see to it that they are ALL destroyed! The stench and slime of my sister's monster's will be cleansed the same as the regular swarms still pestering this city. I will see this city safe and clean once again!"

[Maltruism]

The Stage of the Crescent Arena

Vhalar 40, 719

The Questions:

What changes do you want to make in Etzos?
How do we keep something like this from happening again?
How are you going to help us rebuild Etzos?

The Immortal looked surprised at the question, "Changes? I have said nothing of making any changes. Why would I? I really don't see any necessity for any changes. The only changes are those that will happen naturally because of my being here. As I said last ten-trial, I will dwell in the Underground, and the one upside to this whole terrible ordeal is that there is more than ample housing available for those I am...resettling to the surface."

Face brightening with the prospect, she elaborated, "In truth, It seems to me that those who will be asked to move to the surface will be far better off for having affordable, or even free housing available." She looked quickly to High Marshall Parhn, who nodded his agreement. "I have heard already of several good citizens benefiting from this excess; getting upscale dwellings for cut-rate prices; or multiple properties for the price of one or two. Frankly, I see nothing about this that I have any reason to change."

A quiet murmur of approval ran through the crowd. Those showing reluctance to take the Immortal's words at face value were addressed with scowls by those unknowingly swayed by the Hateful Web ability Sintra had working at all these assemblies. Some resulted in quietly accusing queries as to whether they were so callous as to want their less-fortunate fellow citizens to remain homeless.

Taking her rhetoric a degree further, she quoted an adage about a man that had farm work available, and hired several workers over the course of the trial to help with it. When the toil was over, he paid every man equally. Some of those who had been hired first complained that they should receive more than those who arrived late.

"The farmer responded, 'It was not their fault that they worked a shorter term than you. I did not find them as quickly as I did you. But you have been paid a fair price for a fair trial's work. Why should you object to me showing generosity to your brothers?" She let that sink in a bit before continuing, "I see it the same way. There is no cause to impede good fortune falling upon another just because you do not benefit at the same time."

Pointed glares focused on those who had been initially unconvinced, as if daring them to cry out for withholding such benefit to their fellows. These skeptics did well to hide their true feelings and put on expressions of shame-faced contrition. A few argued back that nothing was yet proven and that only time would tell. Their identities were noted, and sour expressions rode on heads that shook in disgust.

Sintra appeared not to notice, her smile fading a bit with a sigh, "Will this ever happen again?...It is very difficult for me to explain the nature of the...sub levels of reality that caused this event. It has never happened before, in all my arcs, which is a considerable time indeed!" There was scattered laughter. "The number of freakishly unlikely events that had to coincide to cause even just the beginning of the Emean upheaval is incalculable."

She started counting off on her fingers, but quickly shook her head to convey the futility of trying to quantify it. "Even at that, it should only have been a single burst of wild ether, not this prolonged event. This is why I have grown convinced that Lisirra had some mechanism of dimensional distortion, enabling it to stay unbalanced longer than that it ever should have. Nothing that could actually cause it; but could possibly prolong it once it began."

She pointed at random locations in the throng, "You know what I mean, you workers of Rupturing magic; you Dreamwalkers; those of you joined to diri and other spirits..." her voice sank to a reverential croon, "...and you ghosts, you poor souls who bore the greatest brunt of my sister's malice. You all know how different are the environments of these planes. For an event to somehow align and balance these chaotic natures long enough for such an attack to occur is simply mind-boggling. I can only ask you to trust me when I say that such a thing will never happen again!"

She continued for a short while to default to the impossibility of the mortal mind to comprehend the powers that had to spontaneously develop unlikely affinities for contrary attunements to bring such an event about. It did not matter whether anything she said was true or not. Those that might have been able to shed some light on such subjects could see the annoyed looks that were turned on any that continued to express a lack of acceptance.

She allowed a last question, "Rebuild? I have no plans in that regard either. But look around. My sister's attack, for all its wickedness and horror, was not of a type to bring structural ruin. Everything still stands. Now, if you are referring to the infrastructure of the business environment; who will replace administrators who have died, and settle cases of law where these deaths have complicated issues, I honestly see that it is none of my business how such things are settled. I mean only to be out of the way as much as possible."

She seemed to recall things said previously, "As I said, my children will clean the filth still on the streets; those local spiders who have thus far been entirely acting on their own, will fall under my control now. I said before, I would see to placing a number of small structures for Etzos' citizens to make any requests of me regarding any such need. Many bugs spread disease, and if the presence of some swarm troubles you, leave word at one of these locations and I will see to sending some of my own to eliminate it."

This was one subject where an initial lack of acceptance was not met with hostility. Sintra laughed brightly at the mixed response. "Do not worry that I take insult at your reluctance. I myself have somewhat of an aversion to snakes, so I understand. As some have already said this trial, 'only time will tell.' They are wise words, even if they can, at times, seem contentious. But as far as rebuilding Etzos, I am really not qualified to contribute much to this. My children and I will just be trying not to upset things further."

[Maltruism]

The Stage of the Crescent Arena

Vhalar 50, 719

The Questions:

I heard from a totally reputable source that you planned this whole thing and are solely to blame for Etozs's misfortune, you dirty Immortal. How dare you use your charm and influence on our weakened and unsuspecting city?

The question tore from the ever-quieting crowd like a serrated blade. By the time it was finished, only the echoes of gasps could be heard beyond the cooling breeze of mid-Vhalar. Only a trill after that, mayhem erupted in a location near where the voice had arisen. Some in support, some in furious opposition, the guard was quick to begin converging on the spot.

But after a moment of seemingly stunned breathlessness, Sintra's voice rose, "No, please! Those of you thinking to support me, take no action against this person. I would not have fear of honest speech be the basis of what acceptance I hope to achieve here. You who have said this, am I truly NOT to use what social skills I possess to gain acceptance? Do you go to your friends' homes and insult them as means of ingratiating yourself? Do they ever ask you back?"

There was scattered laughter. With a smile, the Immortal waved off the distraction and continued, "But no, let me meet you half way. I understand your concern. I have already addressed it several times. I ask only that you try to understand mine. For what am I to answer to such an accusation? Very well, I deny it. But is that not exactly what you expect me to say? It almost comes off as me confirming it then. But before I respond in earnest, let me say that perhaps my primary goal in all these assemblies is to show that I am trying to see things from your point of view. Only then might I have the right to expect you to see mine.

"So, first I must address this 'reliable source' I would naturally want to know who this is, but have no doubt they wish to remain anonymous. Does this do them credit? That they will not show their face? In my place, would they not wish to face their accuser? In fairness, they undoubtedly assume they will arrested or something, so I understand their hesitance. but consider the disadvantage in which this puts me."

She stepped to the front of the stage and sat, a gesture of being open to scrutiny, "Was I to confess to this accusation, that would be accepted immediately as truth, would it not? But because I deny it, there is skepticism and insult...'dirty immortal'..." she said with tone of genuine hurt. "So, even after doing all that I could to aid the citizens of this city in safeguarding themselves against any further attacks by my sister, I am still only going to have negatives, offered without proof, be what is believed of me. Positives are going to be assumed to be lies."

Her head cocked with a shrug to mark a change of perspective, "But I can not deny it even as I say the words... 'my sister' ...Therein stands the greatest damnation. Where would you be, any of you? Where could you go? And what acceptance could you hope to achieve when your siblings are such as Lisirra....Audrae....Famula. Are not the avriel essentially the children of such cousins of mine. They are hated everywhere. And the same stigma lies upon me."

A few voices called 'Moseke' in response, and Sintra turned a cocked eye to them. "Ah yes, the irreproachable Moseke. Healer and life-giver. Beloved of Ymiden. Paragon of virtue." Her tone strongly suggested she was about to set contradiction to these words. "Is this something we take at face value as well? Something not requiring proof? Do we consider, when we do this, that there is a faction of sevir that revere her and Lisirra equally, as partners in the creation of their bonded race? That kindly and benevolent Moseke allowed the plague to happen so that the sevir could be created, that race so devoted to her? How strangely convenient."

Rising again to her feet, Sintra let the words sink in. "And what of this great love she has with Ymiden? What fruit has that borne? the Tunawa. A race capable of generating poisons within their very bodies! Poisons to which they are, naturally, immune. And our sister Lisirra's domain of Toxins aligns with that quite neatly, does it not?"

She sagged as if a new weight had been draped over her shoulders, "But what good does it do to incriminate the one sibling that might stand favorably as my relative? What is there to offset the stigma of Lisirra, Audrae and Famula, if not the kindness of Moseke? What do I gain by discrediting her as well? It does the good of showing that I am not withholding any facts from you. Of showing the willingness to answer any questions you have. I admit, there are hundreds of things, past and present, that do not come to mind at times like this. But I am prepared to address any of them. That is why I am having a series of these assemblies."

She sighed and looked at the spot where the brief turmoil had erupted. "So now I am accused of having masterminded my sister's behavior. Of having caused a global event I do not even understand. I have said before I do not claim to have never done ill works in my time. But this is way beyond anything I could ever have even conceived. I have no doubt our guest has slipped away, but I would like to ask them just how I am supposed to have done it, so I can take notes to conquer a few other cities."

Those last words were heavy with amusement, and considerable crowd laughter accompanied her own. "Actually though, it strikes me that this comes to the surface just after this host of the army returns from the north, according to their own. Could they be a part of this? Are they the source of this accusation? Were they in Rhakros, taking part in the elimination of Lisirra? I'd be curious to know just what they think they have evidence of, given that they were not there."

She focused again for just a moment on the question she'd been posed with, "Ah yes, the addition of 'weakened and unsuspecting city' to the charge. That, my friends, is just a rhetorical bid for empathy to their case. For naturally I stand only to seem callous if I do not agree with it. Yet I do not! Not completely anyway. Weakened? Yes certainly, but also purged of many unwilling or unable to strike out against your foes! But 'Unsuspecting'??... Etzos??... Unsuspecting?"

Outright laughter erupted fully from the crowd now, and Sintra allowed herself to be completely caught up in it, her face reddening with mirth. "Are we talking about the same Etzos? The bastion of mortal independence that has thwarted numerous incursions, and only expanded each time? That has been set upon by multiple enemies at once and still triumphed? That needed only to open the door to realize the weapon they possessed, in the very form of those most worthy of vengeance? Is this truly a city that can be called 'Unsuspecting?"

Her finger whipped out to point around the crowd, "I say to you, there is no city more suspicious, no city more righteous in their suspicions. No city more frequently cursed in frustration by stymied immortals! And no city more deserving of having any Immortal stand before you, subjecting herself to YOUR questions than Etzos! It is ludicrous to suggest that I have 'pulled one over' on your unsuspecting city!"

Again her tone made mockery of the word, and was soon lost in cheering as she smiled benevolently.