Recent content by Iseppa Arladi

The honesty Tedesco employed regarding the circumstances of his situation were disarming. Iseppa, after a brief pause, offered an empathetic smile to her guest. As he assumed, she was vaguely aware of the situation in Alliria. Gossip made its way from the city on many lips. There were pretenses...

There, among the prominent faces of Hertstead and the few she recognized as Allirian, Iseppa endeavored to be, for the moment, little more than ornamentation. A feat she had mastered long ago. She listened to tedious gossip, engaged in warm wishes and idle chatter, drank her fair share—enough to...

“Good,” was her reply, dropped from her lips with all of the simplicity of arrogance. “Let us see to that need, then.” It was a cultivated air of comfort, and it did not waver when she fell in beside Tedesco, the staff opening the doors ahead of them as they passed through the halls, toward the...

“We are not without sway, Luca. Nor are we without luxury. Do not talk as if he comes to wallow in the stye.” Coin enough to rival some of Alliria’s wealthy, an army, a town that hovered just close enough to import that it could be considered a threat, no matter how minor. Buscha may consider...

Perhaps. Perhaps not. War was a precarious thing. Some might consider an encroachment upon their land that very things. Iseppa, though? She did not. “I cannot say for certain, though it is unlikely.” Her refilled cup was lifted but it did not reach her lips. Instead, she swirled it, her...

The edge of Agatha’s sword couldn’t even cut as sharply as Iseppa’s look at the mention of Luca. It was a contentious topic and the softening of the suggestion with just a thought did little to smooth the lady’s ruffled feathers. “Should I decide to take to a life of drinking and fighting, I...

Sir Dejan was correct. Not all deeds were written in song. Most were not written at all, left to be forgotten by those who did not witness them. Humility such as his could very well be the reason his Order sank into obscurity. Such was the way of knights, though. It was not a trait the two of...

The rats of the Reach took the crumbs they were thrown, she supposed begrudgingly. Alliria’s greatest families would not give them anything but. Not until they stood as equals, if such was even possible. Iseppa thought not. There would always be a divide between them, the merchants of Alliria...

“If it were simply about funding them, Luca, I would, but it is not and you are aware of that.” This again. There were no understanding sighs, nor looks of empathy; such things had long since faded. Years had turned them into passing remembrances of patience one had and no longer entertained...

Coin was a language shared by many. A lingua franca for the Reach’s disparate people. From the haughty merchant lord of Alliria to the sellsword before Iseppa, a flash of gold and the promise that there was more to follow was something they understood in equal measure. Agatha’s knowing smile...

It was a romantic notion: an honor-bound Order clawing desperately away from its twilight. Who better to tell the tale than a knight who, by Iseppa’s estimation, did the same? She gave him the whole of her attention as he surmised the Knights’ plight, her body still save the slow pass of her...

Iseppa inclined her head to Agatha’s offer of future shared casks of wine and the supposed mutual want for their understanding of one another to grow, but as she drank again from her goblet, it was to wash away the taste of ambition. Not her own, but Agatha’s. As the rim touched her lips, the...

Had she the energy, Iseppa might have bothered to explain her thoughts on the Blackshields and the importance of their spirits. Their mood, and whether they were upset, in her opinion, mattered greatly. Instead, her brother’s flippancy earned only a long, slow sigh. Or, at least, it might have...

“It did, yes.” Perhaps not in the way she’d presented, but it had done her good. Iseppa could not help but to follow Agatha’s gaze to the parchment and the seal since broken on its edge. Her own eyes lingered there, even after she could feel the orc’s move to rest on her, the weight of them...

Iseppa made to move, lifting herself from the cushioned back of the chair only to pause before she could rise entirely. The touch of Agatha’s fingers against the rim of her goblet drew amber eyes to them and the question was met with an answer in the release of the cup to the orc. Another might...