The Backways Bar [RP]

"But... I suppose there is room to worry about the unknown past death, even I sometimes take note of my thoughts on the subject. And yet still, why be afraid of where we are originally from? Why fear the moving of time if time must move? If we dwindle on the things that must happen, we'll never experience the chances that we could have made. And then, what is there to life besides the chances we take?"

 

Neshu blinks and turns away, their brow creased.
Aurelion breathes a sigh of relief and lets go of his saber. It seemed, that after all, the tiefling didn’t recognize him.

Aurelion watches the clock intently. How long would it take for the Praetorian to arrive? He’d seen them in action before-they traveled inhumanly quickly. In fact, he didn’t even know if they were truly human.
And yet, could even a Praetorian break through the bar’s defenses? What was Augusta’s plan? He supposed that, whatever it was, she couldn’t act alone.
He rises and approaches Neshu, studying them cautiously. “So you are a priest of the Nightbrother? Where is the temple you serve at?”

Spoiler: The Praetorian Order

The Praetorian is an elite and secretive order of Imperial soldiers who carry out covert missions for high-ranking Vylmaran authorities.
Members of the Order operate a wide variety of jobs, serving as assassins, spies, and bodyguards for the Empress and her consuls.
The Praetorian are also high priests of Daekkan, from whom they supposedly gain their strange abilities. With bodies enchanted by powerful arcane magic, a member of the Order has drastically increased strength, speed, and stamina, as well as incredible amounts of endurance and healing. Although such rumors are widely considered to be myth, some even say the Praetorian have control over shadow itself, being able to supposedly vanish from sight on command and change their appearance with illusory magic.

 

Xownfos takes notice of Aurelion's relaxed posture, and seems to relax a bit more as well, standing straight and taking her hand out from under her cloak (empty).
"I get the feeling that everyone here is very, very on edge. Why don't all of you talk about your feelings together? Or at least agree to put international conflicts away from each other? Political views only bring tension to polite conversation."
Another pinge of sadness touches the end of Xownfos' words as another memory comes to mind.
Two representatives, two different beliefs, one argument, the start of endless conflict between Ferrous Merchant's Guild and the Continental Commercial Cooperative, countless friends destroyed through political beliefs.

 

"Feelings," says Low, "have never been very interesting to me, and I've never been one for politics either. I prefer practical conversation to both."
He gestures to Neshu.
"I believe it is your turn."

 

At once, a door materializes and is thrown open by a man flourishing a nimble sword on which is inscribed seven runes. A dark cloak sits loosely on his shoulders above a threadbare robe woven hastily of a fabric that seems colored vibrantly by its nature. The robe is lashed by a strange belt carrying even stranger artifacts. Despite his haphazard attire, he seems in good condition, and his eyes seem to burn with adrenaline as he thrusts the sword forward. As The Bouncer begins to step toward him, several expressions dance across his face: first realization, then frustration, anger, and curiosity. He sheaths his blade and opens his mouth to ask a question but quickly shuts it, not wanting to make a worse impression for himself. He wraps his robe about him, and gives an assortment of coins to the barkeeper, mumbling "get me something unique." The bartender freezes for a moment, trying to process why this dark figure had given it units from at least eight different currencies, only two of which it had ever seen. Instead, it simply leaves them on the counter, and without requesting anything useful in return, begins to prepare something for the man, who had walked to the far corner of the bar and stood there, silent and unconcerned.

 

Neshu is so very incredibly confused. About the only thing they could twig to inside of the most recent conversation was Low's grim dread of time, but the priest's mind is too clouded and empty to know exactly why.

Like any good cover, what Neshu - clad in the robes of the clergy - speaks now is the truth. Like any great cover, not even Neshu now knows it to be one.

"I am a custodian of the Reliquary of Ten Thousand Stars, and the priest-at-service inside of the Temple's calendar rituals. I also help with outreach to the populace, on occasion."

"Perfect!" says the priest, "But first, any final patrons who wish to be dealt in? It'll be far less convenient to enter once the game begins."

[This is not code for anything.]

 

"Forgive me - I'm finding this game dull and have a fresh soul to greet."
Thedra launches herself from the table, retaining her ungodly speed, and flies in the direction of this newcomer.

"A newcomer! From where do you hail? What is your name? You simply must tell me everything."
[To your character, Thedra is wearing a strange mask and has alarming metal/plant arms, but other than that, she's not very intimidating.]

 

“The Reliquary?” Aurelion asks, noting the information. “I have been there before. It is quite beautiful-the statue of Daekkan most impressive. Vylmar thanks you for your service.”
He raises his glass. “To Daekkan, hm? Without His gaze, the world would be overrun with all manner of foul spirit. The souls of sinners-heretics, murderers, thieves….false faces.”
He waits expectantly for a response..and yet Neshu seems completely unfazed. Was the tiefling simply a near-perfect liar, or did Augusta have the wrong suspect?

 

The man removes his hood, intrigued by the peculiar figure.
“My name depends on who you ask,” He says. “I like to call myself Luthan, a name I must have picked up somewhere. While the door here may have appeared at a most inconvenient time for me, I am not surprised by it - these things happen often to me. I guess you could call me some kind of interdimensional nomad - I take whatever passages appear in the void between worlds and see what I can learn. Perhaps my interruption was a blessing in disguise. What do you know of this place?”

 

Xownfos chuckles at the mention of practical conversation
"But practicality can't get you everywhere can it? Connotation is everywhere if you look for it. No one ever says exactly what they mean."

Xownfos walks over to Luthan and bows slightly, in a polite manner, "Welcome Luthan. If you're looking for information you're best talking to Neshu. She seems to be the most comfortable with this place. However, the clock over there serves some excellent beverages. Unfortunately nothing related to poison, but most other liquids."

After addressing the newcomer, Xownfos pulls a chair up to Neshu's table. "If it's not too much trouble I'd be interested in playing. I quite enjoyed the card games I tried on the rare occasions I had people to play with. What did say this game was called again?"

 

"Leivas", responds Low.
"What song do you sing?"
[Just in case you didn't read previous conversations, this is Jossinarian thieves' cant, asking if you are part of an organization in the underground, and what it is.]

 

(OOC Xownfos doesn't speak thieves' can't, but she knows when people are talking in thieves' can't)
"Levias you say? It rings a bell, but I can't quite put my hand on it. I suppose I'll pick it up as well play. As for singing, I'd consider myself less of a singer and more of a musician, but I do occasionally sing on request. However, I am quite proficient with the flute." She then leans in a bit closer to your ear and whispers to you, "You best not advertise your involvement with Jossinarian thieves to everyone. Some might not enjoy your presence. I've seen first hand." As she leans in, you feel cold, as if Xownfos is constantly emitting a field of cold around her. Sitting back upright, she continues, "I could care less though. After all Jossinarian does do quite a bit of business with my guild."
(Essentially, don't tell everyone you know thieves' cant, someone might try and kill if you they don't like Jossinarian, I've seen people killed in such manner)

 

Low smirks.
"The cant's not very useful at this point anyways, I suppose. I'm not well known, except in my own circles. Perhaps we should see who really cares - I'm not as Low as I am."
He slowly stands up, and looks around, taking stock of the room once more, briefly.
The trader. The priest. The halflife. The conquerer. The planeshifter. And me.
"I am, in truth, the only One Low the Low One, Founder and Shadow of the Order of the Blade, the final Black Guild. I fought against the lich Irivex, alongside Devarien the Oathbreaker before that was his name, and I survived his betrayal. I am the one who Sees With Shadows, the Madman of Selbrakir, the Elf who Spites the Moon. I am the Consort of Dragons and the Friend of the Rangers, bearer of the Summer Armor and the wielder of the Autumn Knife. I have survived the unsurvivable, escaped the unescapable, and broken the unbreakable. I am the Forsaken Rogue, the Forgotten None, the Arcane Without Mana, the Challenger of Bindings, and though I am also called the Honest Liar, every claim I have made is legitimate, and if you were to ask I could indeed recount some of my tales, though most are centuries old."
For a moment, the entire room grows dimmer and a bit warmer. The effect fades quickly, and Lohlethean turns back to Xownfos.
"Unless I've missed a stray pawn or rook, I believe that's checkmate. Will you be playing in this game of Leivas, or should the priest take their turn?"

[References:]
[The Black Guilds are the twelve most powerful groups in the criminal underground. Three are in Hernan, seven in Vylmar, and eight in Jossinar.
Devarien the Oathbreaker is one of Irivex's Twelve Terror Generals. The most common version of his story is that he fought against Irivex, but was corrupted. Low only agrees halfway.
Most of the provided titles aren't very widespread, but there are a lot of them - it's definitely possible that anyone in the bar has heard more than two or hasn't heard any, but it's generally likely that they've heard one.]

 

It's not that the room is getting colder, its that the are around Xownfos feels cold, but more of a magical effect than something like the touch of ice.

"You needn't checkmate me, I'd resigned long before the match had begun. But yes, I remember your name. Your attire seemed familiar. However, if you would, explain you title of Honest Liar for me? I've not heard of that one in particular."

(you can respond in this gap)

"As I've mentioned, I've seen people killed for using thieves' cant. It's quite humourous actually, I believe I have a death threat in your name. How small the world is." She reaches under her cloak into a pocket and pulls out a small crystal. "Do not misunderstand, you clearly outclass me in rank and power, and this warrant was issued by a corrupt and complacent noble, whose funds I am still draining under the facade of chasing you down." She powers on the crystal, and a notebook made of pure mana appears. She flips through the now tangible pages, eventually seeming to find what she was looking for. Handing the crystal to you, she points to a letter from an empire noble. "This fool has been handing me his funds for the past three months in hope that I'll by chance happen upon a chance to kill you in cold blood."

[As a guild leader, word travels quickly, so Xownfos has heard of most of your titles and accomplishments, also due to other requests and a personal desire for more information.]

________________________________

Not RP, i just compiled a list of everyone's characters (including the long gone Sodinukas o7). Mainly because I got lost in all the characters and couldn't remember who's who.
If you want me to update something that's not right ping me and ill fix it as soon as I can. Ill keep posting lists of characters if more people join

@hmtn | Neshu, pas Aventuria - Lunar Priest of Vylmaran (thieves’ cant)
@Etherweaver | Aurelion - Centurion of Vylmar of the House Darax
@Namakobushi | Sodinukas - of Ferloza [INACTIVE]
@DesolateDiscord | Lohlethean (Low) - Elf (thieves’ cant)
@Mardeknius | Thedra - Pseudo-Human-Robot?
@xownfos | xownfos - Arctic Kitsune & Guild Leader of Siannodel
@SSurvivor64 | Luthan - Human

(also if you don't want pings sorry ill fix it next time)

 

'Neshu, pas Aventaria.' That last bit is a Callname, and roughly translates to "The gatekeeper who prevents the advance of sunset through unwavering faith." It's a poetic irony for a Lunar Priest, and a small nod to Neshu's true affiliation.

Spoiler: On Callnames, and the Yarashe Tongue

A tongue favored for the more fickle spellcastings, Yarashe is the common language of most Angels, Devas, and other Celestials. Its density of information is such that Ithkuil weeps, and its most legendary Speakers have given lengthy sermons, teachings, and commands in but a single syllable.

A famous example is the command "KAJ," given by the Bladelord Obath-Jar to his apprentice upon his final death. To this day, the Followers of the Bladelord still ceaselessly work to understand the thousands of sublteties it encodes. No mortal creature can natively speak it, and very few can reach such levels of efficient mastery.

Occasionally, a monk, priest, or other scholar of Yarashe will dedicate some years of their life to meditating on and composing a Callname, a philosophical statement of identity and intent. Using ancient, non-binding ritual, they will then graft it to their truest name. Callnames are accepted as surnames in most nations, should the user lack a pre-existing one.

Neshu raises their glass. "May His watch be eternal, and the night calm and peaceful."

The priest then sets the cup down, audibly "hrmm"ing at that title.
"Careful, now," Neshu mutters, "for it is awake and so very wrathful."
[Neshu does not actually know what the title means.]

Neshu is probably going to make a few connections, but only the moment the memories come back. Comparing their mind right now to swiss cheese is an insult to the cheese's structural integrity.

As for now, the priest merely deals Xownfos in, this time using a Ultaric cut. It's all very flashy and impressive, for knowledge of how to pull off an Ultaric cut in Leivas wasn't considered to be highly incriminating. Neshu doesn't question it, but card tricks like that require years of training.

 

"This is an extradimensional space of some sort-"
Thedra's eyes widen to impossible sizes as she hears some words spoken in the conversation behind her.
"Excuse me. I'll be a moment."
She shoots herself over to "Low".

"Well, that would make sense. Devarien always was a strong one. I suppose you hid in the shadows while the man a thousand times your honour fought Irivxex?"
Thedra clearly doesn't actually believe this, but is just using this as an insult. She continues,
"Anyway, I have, in fact, heard of some of your titles. You know, they say that titles are simply used as glue to patch a shattered ego."
At this point, anyone with any knowledge of how people work at all knows two things.

First, Thedra feels threatened, and might even be a LITTLE scared of Low.
Second, Thedra is definitely planning something.

 

"I suppose I ought to address your responses in turn."

Low looks at Xownfos.
"The title of the Honest Liar. There are some who cannot lie, and yet remain dishonest - fey as an excellent example. I lie, and yet remain honest; for example, telling someone that I will steal from them before proceeding not to."

Low then turns to Neshu.
"Most elves love the moon. Unfortunately, I'm among those who are bothered by the sunlight, which the moon simply reflects. If the moon actively made your vision worse and your magic weaker, you probably wouldn't appreciate it so much either."

Finally, Low turns to Thedra, his face grim.
"Perhaps you'd like to know how that night played out? After pressing through his armies, Irivex made an offer to both of us. Eternity with power in return for allegiance. I refused, and so naturally, Devarien shot me on the spot, and made the bolt smiting. It caused me one permanent injury, and the two of them left me to die of an agonizing wound. And as for the jab about my many names, I never asked for them, and really, elves generally have frustratingly resilient egos. If mine is shattered as you say, it's probably too damaged for any glue to help."

 

Xownfos seems very passionate while speaking the next few sentences. "Even so, you must at least appreciate the beauty of something as graceful as the moon. It's grace and tranquility as it travels across the blank night sky, accompanied only by the stars behind it. Surely you must admit that."
She stops, and looks to the roof quizzically. "That's what was missing. There's no natural light in here. It felt a bit restrictive for some reason."

 

“Let me refill our glasses,” Aurelion decides. “I‘ll pay for all.”
Before anyone can say otherwise, Aurelion takes the glasses and gives them to the bartender, placing a handful of copper coins on the table. As the bartender moves to refill the drinks, Aurelion takes the communication device out of his cloak and moves out of earshot.
As he activates the machine, he quickly makes sure that nobody is nearby. His eyes fall on Xownfos first. While he doesn’t believe that the kitsune is a threat, she seems to know far too much to be harmless. As with most of the bar’s guests, Aurelion believes that he should tread carefully in his dealings with her.
Augusta’s figure manifests in a burst of light atop the device, turning to face him.
“Has all gone well?” she asks. “You have not been compromised?”
“They don’t seem to notice,” Aurelion answers. “I believe we can carry on.”
Augusta nods. “The Praetorian is in place, with a squadron of mages arriving later as reinforcements. The trap is sprung.”
Aurelion inspects the room once more, keeping a steady eye on Neshu. “What do want me to do next? Do you believe the bar’s defenses can be broken?”
Augusta is silent. “It could be possible..and yet, I believe an attempt to be too time-consuming. Better yet to lure the target outside and into the hands of the Praetorian.”
“How do you want me to proceed?” Aurelion asks. “I doubt they trust me enough.”
“Then gain that trust,” Augusta instructs. “Act oblivious-perhaps buy them some drinks and act friendly. I am sure you will know what to do when the time comes.”
Aurelion is silent. “I will-but there’s one thing I have to ask you first.”
“Yes?” Augusta asks, tilting her head.
“What will you do with them? I do understand your concern, but what if the suspect is innocent? While I was speaking to them, I couldn’t detect a single trace of nervousness-their speech and body language were completely normal. Could we possibly be looking for the wrong person?”
Augusta sighs, her voice trailing away. “Are you sure you are out of earshot?”
Aurelion nods. “Yes? Why?”
“It is time you learned of your purpose in coming here,” the Legate says. “You have remained in ignorance long enough.”
Although Aurelion’s expression is impassive, his eyes are eager. Was it finally time to find some answers at last?
“You have come here following a lead-one of utmost importance to the safety of the Empire. You see, three years ago, one of our most trusted spies informed us of a plan circulating deep in the city’s underground, detailing a potential heist on the Capitol Vault. Fortunately, we stopped the heist long before it could be enacted, arresting and interrogating most of the criminals involved. What we found, however, had a far greater impact than a simple heist. The thieves had ties to a massive, coordinated rebel movement, one spanning eight different cities and incriminating over thirty different influential figures. We traced each of them down-and this ‘Neshu’ seemed to be one of the deepest links, as the organization they work for supposedly led to the very core of the rebellion itself. After eight years of interrogating, arresting, and spying, we finally managed to discover another solid lead; the name of a place that Neshu frequented. It is why you are here now.”
Augusta stops, and Aurelion gazes at her with wide eyes.
He couldn’t believe it. He had been the one chosen to do this?
“You may think that we have drifted apart over time, but you are wrong. I recommended you to Consul Vaexattor, telling him of your exploits in the Arvec campaigns. You have a chance, here and now, to prove your worth-to prove the worth of House Darax. Do not disappoint me.”
Before he can respond, Augusta disappears, leaving him alone. He sits there, mouth agape, for several seconds, as if just processing the information.
Augusta still cared about him. He had a chance to redeem himself, even after so long.
Aurelion bows respectfully to the device, his hands shaking on the hilt of his sword.
He had been issued orders.
He would not disappoint.

Spoiler: House Vaexattor

Of the Great Houses of Vylmar, House Vaexattor is the oldest, most prestigious-and now, considered the most powerful.
The Vaexattor motto is “Val Vrago Anaraeth,” a Yarashe phrase roughly translating to “The dragon’s heart burns bright with the flames of courage.”
The motto has held true since the House’s ancient origins, a time predating the Empire itself. The Vaexattors are widely known across Vylmar for their legendary exploits, one of the most famous being Julius Vaexattor’s fight and subsequent triumph over the Terror General Ixilscor. In fact, many say that the Vaexattors are more akin to angels than men, the distant descendants of celestial beings. And when one takes into consideration the ethereal appearance and luminous glow direct Vaexattor descendants have, such theories do not seem too far from the truth.
The current head of the Great House is Daerius Vaexattor, one of the five Imperial Consuls and the Empress’ personal spymaster.

 

"I must admit nothing," the elf says, "although, I do understand that most appreciate it, and they have legitimate reasons. I do as well. Perhaps we can leave it at that."

The elf watches as the strange light dissolves. Aurelion watches as he silently walks over. The elf speaks quietly.
"I must admit, I am curious about that device of yours."

He pauses briefly, thinking what to say next.
"Lights and voices... no, I didn't hear any particular words. My hearing's sharp, but not quite that much. I suppose similar technology could create quite a light show, but people will always end up preferring fire."

The elf smirks again.
"Curious how that works. Fire might blind me, burn me, and break my magic, and yet I still feel inexplicably drawn to it. I'd pay ten gold pieces to know what that little thing actually is, and I'm half broke."

________________________________

[Wait, I messed that up.
There should be twelve.
So three in Hernan, four in Vylmar, and five in Jossinar.
Sorry about that.
I somehow ended up adding an extra six Guilds. I don't know how I messed that math up THAT badly.]