Private Tales Friends of Friends

[Iseppa Arladi]

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 see a pink flush creep into her cheeks and mottle them—and watched. With an easy, natural smile and heavy-lidded gaze, she drank more of the room and its current inhabitants than she did wine.

A small taste of Alliria was still a taste. Tedesco, she thought, missed the comforts of his home and this was a parched man wringing droplets from dewed cloth. Iseppa drank, too. He did not know he watered them both. Or perhaps he did.

From overtop of the golden rim of her goblet, she followed one particular man’s movements. Quintus Vexion, a merchant councilor and knight. A hero to those that chose to disregard his vices. The stories of his deeds Luca might find him an inspiration, she mused before drowning the smirk that dared to curl at the corners of her lips in another sip of wine. The bitterness steadied her, did away with her amusement.

Goblet lowering and chin lifting, her free hand smoothed down the front of her skirts, the fine weave sliding beneath her palm with ease. It was as good a threatening motion as a snake’s coiled neck, and the quiet whisper of slippers on stone might as well be the hollow rattle of warning had it not been drowned in conversation. She approached casually, with all of the understated pomp of a woman who understood how to toe that line.

“Councilor, I am surprised to see you here.” Eyes turning to the floor, Iseppa curtsied. It was with playfully knitted brows that she continued, “Delighted, of course, but surprised. I did not know you and Tedesco were well acquainted.” Well acquainted enough to pull him from his Allirian grandeur and see him traipsing through the halls of a country manor in Hertstead, mingling with the locals. She kept abreast of the merchant council’s politics and it was no secret that Vexion and Buscha had shared their dislike for one another for some time. Clearly such animosity was on the cusp of irrelevance.
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Quintus Vexion ​

 

[Quintus Vexion]

It was strange to him that he'd never been to Hertstead before.

His lust for adventure took him to many different corners of Arethil and yet he'd never simply gone across the Strait of Alliria to this small piece of the world. There were many within the high walls and bustling arches of his great city that might frown upon him being in such a quaint place in comparison to Bountiful Alliria, but there was more to be done in places like this than anyone realized. Every man at the head of his house wanted to see any many wrong things set right during their tenure. The animosity his forefathers felt towards the Bushcas had been a conflict that was seemingly as old as Alliria itself, so old that the stories on how it even happened in the first place were plentiful. For as great as his forefathers were, many of them were petty Allirians at the end of the day, were they not? More focused on counting their coins and growing more powerful than their enemies.
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If they had been worthy, they might have heard the call of the Heavens as you have.
The obstacles men create for themselves are nothing compared to what awaits all mortals in the void.
But you have seen it.
You have seen the true enemy and now you are wise enough to become desperate for allies.
​

The Spirits were alive in his mind that day for some reason. Speaking to him in a language he was never taught and yet understood. They etched the words in starlight on the very canvas of his psyche and rendered his intentions bare before him. The Merchant Lord, ever learned, did well to keep his intentions concealed from everyone else that was present.

The lords and ladies present at Tedesco's party were just as likely to be snakes as any Merchant Councilor in Alliria. His father always tried to warn him in between his lessons and trips to far away lands that his position would attract the worst sorts of people when the time came. It was no surprise to him that so many made their presence known to him. Men and women with titles he would more than likely forget when he left this estate and his business was concluded. One did catch his eye though.

"Lady Iseppa," Quintus turned to her and bowed his head as she curtsied.

The Merchant Council of Alliria had their ears to the Earth. Always. Whenever there was someone making a wave or a sort of reputation for themselves, the Council knew and kept their eyes on them. Many of them, like Quintus, did so with the intention of bettering Alliria. They'd always need sharp minds and strong souls to see to the future of the city their forefathers built. There were others with less pure intentions... In either case, Iseppa was known as smart and cunning and a beauty as well. Quintus gave her a warm grin, bringing his wine goblet to his lips and taking a sip.

"And I am delighted to stand in your presence, my Lady. I've heard many things about you... good ones. I'm happy we finally get to meet in earnest."​