Private Tales Into the spiderweb

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

House Iskandar Villa; Alliria.


One would never suspect a trap to be laid in the most opulent of locales, a gilded cage, a spider web spun of the finest silk. Fit to lure and trap the most confident of birds in it's alluring, some might say insidious, grasp. This was not the purpose of the entire villa, of course, such extravagance and effort would never be put into plucking one misguided ne'er-do-well from the air. But a temporary conversion into such a thing, to bend the little bird's wings and perhaps put it to purpose? Most certainly. So it was that the efforts of one Alicia Blackbolt would be ruined before they truly began.

The opulence, nay, the obscene wealth of House Iskandar was far from a secret to any who traded in Allirian goods. A private fleet of their own mercantile vessels, multitudes of private vineyards, consideration more than once for the Council of Alliria, and more ostentatious displays besides. The mind boggles at the wealth one could plunder from even one of the house's villas or manors, pluck from it's vaults and treasuries, but alas for Alicia the very grass underfoot whispered of her incursion to the manor's owner. The wind sung, unheard to her senses, of her intent. Nature itself conspired against her and so at her approach a game was arranged, a trap set, the door to the gilded cage swung wide as the master of the house decided to turn the ambitions of a potential pest into something he could, potentially, make use of.

Alicia would find the villa more well-guarded than her sources had confided, though not by much, an extra patrolman or two in areas not detailed. Their armaments consisting of heavy crossbows and pavise shields, maces and enchanted gloves flickering with magic. Though this was not all that would reach Alicia's ears. Murmurings among the guards, of some sort of dagger, some sort of magical blade, was recently come to the villa. A marvel, they proclaimed, worth more than their yearly pay, and with their attention diverted Alicia could spy several points of ingress to her target.

Wide double doors leading into a study near to a private pond, ripe for creating distraction and diversion. A second story balcony from whence grew exotic flowers and a widespread tangle of shrubbery that, upon first glance, seemed to be unkempt and a sign of neglect, but was in reality finely tended and molded to give the villa a more naturalistic look. There was even a genuine pool on the ground level, one of the internal courtyards entirely devoted to it as a matter of comfort, with the gently sloping incline into and out of the pool all but leading into several internal doors to a series of kitchens, should one wish to impersonate a house servant.

In all Alicia would find this villa, though high defended, replete with options for burgling her way into it's depths. The only question that remained was.... what path would she choose?

Alicia Blackbolt ​

 

[Alicia Blackbolt]

Spoiler: Music

While she had scoped out the mansion in the daytime, wearing the non-descript uniform of a servant, she returned at night.

She preferred to work in the night. At night, the welcoming darkness shielded her from hostile eyes. At night, the sun couldn't expose the violent blisters and pockmarks that cracked the left side of her face.

The options for entry were manifold. Almost too many. The guards, though numerous and well-armed, had been relatively easy to slip past - so easy that she had even eavesdropped mumblings of an invaluable dagger. She knew nobles could be careless in their security measures, but it had been a while since she had seen it to this degree.

Well, all the worse for them. She would happily add a costly dagger to her collection.

Her choice means of break-in landed on the balcony. Elevation, she found, could often be better hiding than any shadow. Besides, in her experience, the lower floors often teemed with servants and guards, whereas the upper floors tended to accommodate more for the needs of privacy.

And so, it was only the half-moon, dressed in a scant scarf of clouds, that witnessed her silhouette skulk past the pool, making it for the stairs in the internal courtyard. The civilised approach was quickly abandoned, however, in favour of climbing up along the growth to the balcony with all the agility of an ape, making full use of every indentation and hand-hold.

She slipped over the balcony with a muted huff, facing the slim, teal windows. Squinting through the gap, nothing presented itself but a black void. Could be a bedroom or it could be a study. Still, worth the risk, at least over braving the lower floors. So far, her crossbow rested unused on her back, and she pulled out a much simpler tool. A thin crowbar. With this, she could gently pry the window open, her dirty fingertips taking the necessary time to work cautiously and quietly.

With a gentle click of the weak sash lock, the window yielded. The soft creak of her leather-covered arm followed the opening of the window, before she slipped over the sill.

At first, she was blind as a bat, standing stock still, so as to not betray her location. The room remained stubbornly dark, until her eyes gradually adjusted, finding herself in a most curious location . . .

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Spoiler

House Iskandar Villa Interior; Alliria


Alicia would find herself not in a true bedroom but something more akin to a study than somewhere tat someone would intentionally fall asleep in. Fine wooden tables, chairs, desks added a soft scent to the room along with the gentle aroma of paper from the countless books that lined the bookshelf over a singularly illuminated desk. A magical mote floating above an enchanted stand cast soft light over the desk and room as Alicia took her first tentative steps inside, purely an enchantment of convenience and in no way an indication she had been caught.

Across from this desk and standing upon a small, raised dais at the other end of the room looked to a table for alchemical and horticultural work. If the various alembics and sets of mortar and pestle were any indication. A few potions, glowing softly crimson in their flasks, would sit in a neat row upon the desk, while the only thing truly out of the ordinary would be what appeared to be a human skull that sat affixed atop the alchemy station. Attached not to any sort of clamp, not device, but instead it was interwoven with odd vines that seemed to slither and pulsate within the cranial cavity of the skull..... though to what end was not within Alicia's skillset to decipher.

All told the room was, relative to the rest of the villa, small and private. With only one door acting as an exit directly across from the balcony she had made her intrusion through. Though Alicia would be unhappy to learn that these aged, refined floorboards under her feet were more than happy to groan and creak if she mis stepped or had no way to soften her tread.

Alicia Blackbolt ​

 

[Alicia Blackbolt]

Alicia approached the alembics, curious. Her reflection warped and elongated in curved glass, shadowed face twisting within crimson containers.

Her understanding of alchemy was basic, at best. She knew just enough to get by with her own concoctions and how to employ them. But it seemed this lord indulged in more arcane pursuits than she had at first deemed.

Perhaps Gnurlie might have something to say about these potions. Could be worth something. She gingerly took one by its fat cork and secured it in a pouch with a fitting container.

In her search, she soon came upon the skull drowned in pulsing vines, its jaw open, frozen in a scream choked by living plant. It was as if the plant sucked energy from the hollow cavity of the cranium.

Disturbing, to say the least. She'd let that remain untouched.

Housebreaking could reveal the most curious features of a homeowner - the parts that people kept private, their darker secrets. This owner seemed to have a strange fondness for nature mingled with elegant marble and satin. But this laboratory set revealed a fascination with nature that went deeper than mere appearances. It seemed to her a rather predatory obsession, behind all the gilt and glamour.

She snatched a few other valuables - a golden candleholder here, a precious inkwell there, a silver-hefted quill . . . then decided to hurry up.

A creak left the floorboards. She froze, a ripple of panic going through her.

Old floorboards. The bane of any sneak. A small, muffled curse left her.

Her hand went to her quiver, opening it. There, her fingers found a ruffled and prickly parrot feather, pulling out a bolt with a dark-green ball for its arrow-head.

Distance here was no issue, so she could simply drop the moss-head to the floor and let its alchemy work. It flattened on impact and rippled a broad, thin film of soft, dark-green plant-matter over the floor, softening her stride.

With this, she tip-toed to the door, pressed her ear against it, watched for shadows below it, and once satisfied no one would be on the other side, she could creep out.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar