Session 53 - Keeping Her Cardia Close To The Vest

Previously, Across the Horizon...
The party has discovered precisely how rich the Osler family is, or at the very least adjusted the floor of the Osler family fortune. Apparently exile is no reason to stop living large, and a house full of servants and a map two stories tall keeps the political fallout comfortable. It may not be the full splendor the Oslers are accustomed to, but for the other four members of the party, it is far more than they are accustomed to.
Isa, however, is not accustomed to being unable to help her family, in whatever way she can. Her time away from Cardia has been used by her mother, as her uncle Nils suggested, but the exact manner of that usage is as yet unknown to the dragoon. A meeting with her mother (alongside four absolutely silent observers) has pushed Isa more toward wanting to assist in the restoration of the Highwind Research Laboratory to her uncles, to ensure that the Albarea family does not escape Osler justice for the wrongs done unto them.
We join our heroes at 8:20 PM, preparing for the second meeting with Count Elina Osler, as they prepare their stories and their offers of aid...
**
Orrey organizes his notebooks and chooses one that is a hybrid between writing paper and drawing paper, not as good as either but a compromise that'll suit the meeting. "I think I'm ready. Any last minute advice, Isa?" Orrey asks.
The instructions given were clear -- the Situation Room awaits, the time of her choosing, attendance strongly suggested for everyone.
Isa eyes the notebook. "Don't write down any specific details. Names, places, things like that. And if my mother asks you to put it away? Put it away. Other than that? You're invited to attend; my mother doesn't perform for an audience so you can all assume that your input is at least going to be considered."
Orrey nods. "I'll use a cypher!"
"Anything we Do Not Talk About?" Bast asks, adding his own capital letters.
"Don't ask why we're not allowed at court," Isa says plainly. "It's still...sensitive."
"Courting disaster..." Orrey mumbles to himself.
"And minimize the puns," Linnet mutters, lightly elbowing Orrey in the side.
Yves has, after some afternoon relaxation, worked him back up into some state of high tension, as if he might suddenly be called upon to Perform An Etiquette.
Orrey grins at Linnet. "I'll do my best."
"Right. Jokes will...not land," Isa says. "My mother does not have my sense of humor," Isa says.
Orrey blinks. "Right, Isa." Orrey says, speculatively.
Linnet bites her lips very hard and tries not to blink at all.
"Have you...made a joke before?" Orrey asks.
Isa blinks. "I joke all the time," she says.
"Oh. That's going to make me go back through every conversation we've ever had with whole new meanings." Orrey says. "But I'll save that for later!" Orrey assures everyone.
There are a few servants out as you walk to the Situation Room, though they make themselves scarce and never draw attention to themselves. The only one that does much of anything as they approach is a young human boy, lighting lanterns positioned throughout the hallways. The lanterns aren't quite like the last lantern anyone had to handle in a nice country estate, and yet.
"...how about the three of us mostly try to look intelligent and come up with one carefully placed question apiece." Linnet's dress is smart and businesslike, her braid neatly tamed, but her eyes are masking mild dread.
Yves is either very still, or vibrating so fast it looks the same.
The door to the Situation Room is open just enough for them to enter, with the understanding that they will close it after they do so.
Isa is first through the door, squaring her shoulders as she enters.
Bast takes the rear, and looks back around the hallway before firmly shutting the door.
The Count's eveningwear is a burgundy dress with a sharp collar, enough jewels to topple a chocobo, and long black gloves with the middle two fingers left bare on each hand.
Yves' heightened anxiety subsides just far enough that he appears to be taking mental notes on serious business fashion for the next time he gets near a tailor.
The night sky is recreated on the ceiling above, tiny lights twinkling as the stars. "You are looking for a way to be of use to the family," Count Osler says by way of greeting, her eyes not leaving the map.
Isa nods at her mother's back. "I am. We are."
"Then speak. You have a seat at our table, after all." She looks back over her shoulder, her face cutting the same profile as Isa's own. "What do you bring?"
Orrey looks around for a spot to sit and write.
Most of the chairs in here look like the sort of chair someone buys for the angles and accents, and the ones that don't look like that definitely have the air of "if you sit in Papa's chair you are going to hear about it later." The former seem like the safest bet.
Isa looks at her companions, and gives a "Go ahead," nod to them.
Orrey pulls one of the accent chairs over to a table and sits, ready. "We bring a little of everything?"
"Mm," is the diplomatic response.
"Are you asking about combat capability, diplomatic skills, or intellectual pursuits? Uh, Count." Orrey realizes he does not know the proper address.
"I am asking about the skills you believe you have that are relevant to Osler interests, Mister Alyon," she replies evenly.
"To start with, a ship with no known affiliation with the Oslers and some battle experience." Bast is sitting up straight in his chair, palms resting on the table in front of him. "Both shipboard and ground."
"I'm afraid that Isa hasn't informed us much of Osler interests. With good reason, of course. We have a wide array of magical talent available to us. Personally, I am a capable Time Mage." Orrey states the facts, no nonsense, just like he thinks Isa would want in this situation.
"I tend to hit things with lightning," Yves says. "Or work out what they're doing, if they're odd, new or old. Technology, I mean. Mostly. Or magic. Or magitech. I specialized in chemistry, but a lot of it blends together, especially when it's new." He thinks for a moment, hands folded over each other in his lap. "Sometimes I come to a diplomatic arrangement with unique beings who aren't exactly people or not people, but my track record on that is mixed."
The Count's gaze fixes Linnet to the floor in expectation of her own addition to the skill set.
"Whereas I'm mostly our humanoid diplomatic specialist. And maintainer of physical integrity."
"With Isaline providing the refined brutality we are known for," the Count says, comfortably and not unkindly. "An interesting collection. You cover your flaws well, Isaline."
"And it's very useful having someone about who knows what to hit with lightning, and when to start," Yves says.
"So if there's something you need zapped, stabbed, shot, sketched, drawn, or negotiated with, we can probably give it a fair go," Linnet says.
"Oh, or researched. We're rather good at research." Orrey adds. Orrey's notebook is filled with little symbols gathered into five general blobs. Lightning bolts, spears, pens, ships, muffins among others.
"The Academy taught us to value diverse skills with unified objectives, Mother. I haven't forgotten," Isa says.
"Oh, and I suppose 'finding people with diverse skills and talking them into helping us' might count," Linnet offers. "It's been a while since I updated my resume."
"The immediate situation regarding Highwind and Nils is well in hand. Myrta is in the city, and our interests are advancing on schedule. I have no doubt that it will go in our favor in due time, as I have every confidence in what we are doing." Count Osler clasps her hands together, fingertips pressed against each other, manicured fingernails tapping in time with her purposeful steps through the room. "If you wish some measure of justice to befall the Albareas in the meantime, there are opportunities available to you."
Orrey flips a page and draws an albatross.
"I wish them to understand how far they have overstepped," Isa says, which could maybe be the same thing.
"The political situation involving your two families is a bit...delicate?" Orrey asks.
"There are manners in which that could be achieved," Count Osler says, the barest hint of a smile crossing her face, shadows across cell bars. "Ones that involve the reputation we have cultivated for you, Isaline, and ones that leave you comfortably anonymous."
Orrey draws a set of scales with the albatross resting on one side, adding a sharp mountain on the other side.
"The Albareas have their own holdings throughout Cardia. Should something happen to one of those holdings, that would be unfortunate. Crude and simple, yet effective. Such a base response would serve as cover for Myrta's work in the capital."
"Might I ask," Isa inquires calmly, "who I have become, in my absence?"
The Count is taking her time getting there.
Orrey adds a flower held in the albatrosses beak, then a fire underneath it shooting little flaming bolts at it.
"Icy Isaline, Scourge of the Dicelan?" Bast keeps a perfectly straight face.
"There is also the matter of the occupation in Highwind," the Count says. "While we wouldn't dare move against them publicly, the information we have from there is limited. Resourceful thieves could liberate secrets from within its walls, returning them to Osler hands. Secrets are always worth gil."
Isa nods. "We can give a full report on our time there, brief as it was, as well."
Orrey nods slowly, drawing a toad sitting on a log, with a squirrel grabbing a strawberry from inside the log.
"Consider as well their place within Cardian society. Albareas value strength, and especially outward displays of that strength. A humbling defeat for a notable fighter or a ship is but another spear in Myrta's wing. We have the measure of all of their ships, as well as their expected movements over the next three weeks, following on from historical data.
"And of course, there is the matter of you, Isaline," the Count says. If anything she is about to say bothers her, it does not show. "Since your place at the Academy has lost, you had a vicious falling out with your family, sister included. You never did develop the taste for politics, and in your time away from Cardia we feared that you came to bear a grudge against your country and your family both, as our 'foolish squabble,' as you so eloquently put it, ruined your chance to take a place in Cardian society.
"Who would make a more appealing recruit for another family than one such as you?"
"Disgruntled daughter seeks revenge against the ones who disgraced her?" Orrey wonders aloud. "Clever."
"Not sure how this squares with the humbling defeat scenario, unless that's meant to be Isa's way in."
"She can provide her bona fides in the form of a solid thrashing," Orrey offers.
"Four simple approaches, with room for... flair," she says calmly.
Isa's reaction gives absolutely no hint as to how far or how close that is to the truth. "If it is necessary, then it is necessary. But if there is another option I would rather not pursue that stratagem. My...feelings about our current situation are not relevant to my loyalties."
"There is much you can do under the guise of a simple sellsword. Your name is far more known than your face," the Count says.
"Is there a list of vulnerable Albareas targets, outside of Highwind?" Orrey asks.
"And does 'vulnerable' offer options focused primarily on property damage rather than death?" Linnet adds, quietly.
"There is," the Count replies, the words one you will never find unsaid.
"I suppose we could research that ourselves if need be," Orrey says, trailing off quietly at the end.
"Targets chosen to reciprocate, not escalate. To inform them succinctly that we are not prey, while maintaining our position as the aggrieved party before the rest of the court," Isa says. It's mostly to Orrey and Linnet, but there's a strong undercurrent of checking your work with the professor.
An approving nod.
Linnet looks a tiny bit less tense. "Ships, then? Commercial assets? What is the Albareas' primary economic driver?"
"Might." She walks in front of the map of Ducorde, her eyes following the northern coast of the Dicelan sea. "Defined however they see fit, though aerial firepower is their most recent obsession. The interest in Highwind seemed a natural stepping stone."
"So we hit one of their ships, maybe a second tier model so as to maintain the balance?" Orrey attempts to give Isa one of those looks he's seen flying back and forth between her and her mother, failing spectacularly. A drawing of a falcon descending on a goose finishes off Orrey's latest page.
"Something that does not follow us out of Cardia would be preferable," Bast says.
"...but also preferably not because we killed everyone on board."
"Do they still have the shipyard at Jozech? I believe they built patrol corvettes there; if they had to shut down production it would be a stinging blow but not a fatal one," Isa says.
"Humiliation might be a better tool than murder to send a message," Orrey says.
Isa nods to Orrey. "If they cannot protect their own holdings..." she trails off significantly.
The look Isa receives from the Count is the same one she would receive whenever she successfully punched above her weight class and managed to turn one of Myrta's arguments around on the much more accomplished speaker.
Orrey draws a clutch of eggs with a cartoony fox holding a spear ready to pounce on it.
"Bast?" Isa inquires, innocently, "If someone wanted to cripple a shipyard so that it could be repaired, given sufficient time and gil, can you see a way to do that? Purely hypothetically."
"Hm. Possibly several, depending on what we know about the shipyard...?"
Yves almost interjects with suggestions. Thinks better of it. But he certainly seems less tense now that talk has turned to things involving more destruction and less subterfuge.
"Assume you have access to fairly detailed intelligence, but don't assume it's complete," Isa says.
"We've got the major brushstrokes of our plan here. Is it time to dig into details? Or is that something to be done at another time in another location?" Orrey asks, aiming between Isa and the Count.
Orrey nods, shutting his notebook. "Your Grace, it was a pleasure. You and yours are always welcome to call on the Alyons at any time." He stands and attempts a bow, unable to avoid a slight grin as he botches it.
"We're glad to be of assistance, Your Grace. Thank you for meeting with us." Linnet bows (correctly) and nudges Yves out of thoughtful space-staring and into a similar bow.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace." Bast rises from the table with something slightly more formal than a nod. "We hope to see you again in better times."
First in, last out; Isa waits by the door for a moment after everyone else is on their way back to the guest rooms. "Is Father in the city with Myrta?" she asks when she is alone with her mother.
"He is with the Nakamura family currently, regarding a joint business venture," the Count replies, some of the edge leaving her voice. "I expect him back early next week. He will be sorry he missed you."
Isa nods. "Tell him I'm sorry I missed him as well. I hope I'll be able to come back soon."
"In your own time," the Count says. "You will find your way, just as your sister."
Isa starts to leave, stops, and turns back around. "One more thing..." she says, almost absent-mindedly.
Two eyebrows, faintly raised, waiting for the rest of the sentence.
"The Dragoon is in the Triad. Or was, a few weeks ago."
This comes as a surprise. "To what end?"
"They were trading bounties for fallen stars. I asked them, about the City. Asked if they knew what was going on there. Asked if it was happening with their consent."
"Their answer?" the Count asks.
"Yes to the first, no to the second. It was unsettling to hear. I'm...glad that things are not yet as bad as I'd feared."
"They may yet be." The Count walks with Isa to the door. "I will need to send word along. Should you hear more from the Dragoon, please send it along if you trust it can get here unnoticed."
Isa nods. "I will, but I think it was coincidence that our paths crossed."
"Your scholar friend also alluded to the stars. Your paths may cross again." Elina Osler places her hand on Isa's shoulder, and then releases her. Her goodbyes conveyed, the Count is then gone, more work to be done.
**
"So, how are we going to crack open this clutch of eggs?" Orrey asks as he digs into his pile of scrambled.
"Orrey. Please. Too damn early for puns." Linnet appears to have slept very poorly; locks of her hair are slipping into the very large mug of steaming tea she clutches like a life preserver.
Unmarked folders are entirely too suspicious, so this folder is instead a collection of spelunking maps and hot springs locations throughout northwestern Cardia. The information contained within is incredibly extensive, and even has some information on spelunking and hot springs.
"Have some more of that delightful coffee! I've already had two and I'm feeling EGGcellent." Orrey says with a spastic smile.
"...well, I thought we'd figure out some exciting structural support points, and then, uh, crack some eggs," Yves suggests. "...you know I'm not actually sure whether or not we're talking about breakfast at this point."
Isa is eating heartily, enjoying what she has come to think of as home cooking, in that it is her home cook producing it. "That's the point, Yves. Never say something with only one meaning. Especially if that meaning can come back to haunt you."
"Supplies, workers, infrastructure. Clients would normally be another weakness, but not if this is a private shipyard of theirs. Workers is hard to make stick without some leverage in the region that you can use to keep them from just finding new ones, supplies might be more promising but easier to recover from - the yard itself is probably our best bet for a one-time operation," Bast says.
"Some really surprising things can end up haunting a person," Yves says, a little woefully. "...but I do like eggs. They're even better with venison, though. My grandmother used to serve these enormous breakfast pies that were as much meat as pastry or egg."
"I very much want to eat one of those." Isa flips through the files. "Oh, springs. I miss springs."
"What would cause lasting damage with minimal input from us? And minimal collateral damage to the workers? OH A NIGHT ATTACK!" Orrey beams.
"Well, we're about eighty percent sure she's dead," Yves says, "but if we're wrong, I'll ask her about the pie."
"Whatever we're doing...can we please try to make sure whatever we attack is as empty as possible?" Linnet looks a little queasy. "Of people, I mean."
"I agree," Isa says. "Killing workers is an escalation we don't want."
"Killing Albareas is an escalation we don't want either. Or managers. Or their hired thugs, even."
"Isa, are we going to need to leave a message saying 'Osler was here' in some way, or will they just assume it was from your family no matter what?" Orrey asks.
"They'll assume, but if they can't prove it, then they can't complain about it," Isa says. "So, no signatures."
"Not even something subtle?" Orrey asks, eyebrow raised.
"Orrey," Isa asks, then pauses to swallow her coffee. "You spent last night in a room with my mother. Do you think you can out-subtle her?"
"Isa, do you at least know what we'd be attacking? Like, could you clarify that we're not going to set off a chemical explosion or start an uncontrollable fire or something? Just burn down a single building or whatever?" ...then Linnet catches up to the current conversation and chokes on her tea. "The hell? First of all, this is Orrey you're asking, and second of all, your mom was subtle?"
Isa directs Linnet to Bast, "He's the one who volunteered to come up with the plan."
"Yes, but you're the one who knows the target. When I want details on the specifics of the operation, I'll ask him."
"The goal is significant but reversible damage. So, anything with the word 'uncontrolled' is probably not what we want," Isa says.
"I'm just going to destroy the things Isa tells me to," Yves declares virtuously. "Or Bast, I suppose. And sometimes Orrey and Linnet. Though I think you mostly have me destroy pastries, so far?" That last to Linnet.
"...look, I spent way too long last night worrying about killing innocents because we don't know what we're getting into. Turns out my brain can come up with a lot of ways to accidentally kill innocents at hour five of staring at the ceiling," Linnet laments.
Bast looks over at Isa. "Define 'reversible'. If we're aiming for absolutely no casualties, I was thinking smuggling in firebombs and someone to place them might be the way to go. Or materials that can be assembled on site. Cannons not being known for being particularly discriminate or subtle."
"Something that will halt production for, let's say four to six months. Long enough to make rebuilding a chore, not so complete that they just abandon the site."
"A money pit." Orrey says.
Isa nods. "Exactly."
Bast shakes his head, muttering something about politics, and seems to be calculating something in his head. He briefly resurfaces to ask "Do they have other shipyards?"
"Several. It won't shut them down completely, and I wouldn't want it to; Albarea ships are an important part of Cardia's forces. But they'll still feel the loss. If they have to appeal to the Crown for aid in restoring it, all the better."
"...is there anything they particularly rely on that they have to import?" Linnet asks. "Like, that Cardia just plain doesn't produce?"
Yves looks somewhat less sleepy as he thinks about the implications of Linnet's question.
"I don't know how airships work, but just thinking aloud...some crucial component where, if their supply line was disrupted or their stockpile vanished, their production would grind to a halt?" Linnet continues.
"Airships are mostly iron, which we have plenty of. Airship weapons on the other hand. If there's a bluespirit depot on site, that'd be a priority target," Isa answers.
"I don't know what bluespirit is, but that sounds important. Is this more of a blow-up thing or a steal thing?"
"That sounds like a plan B, plan A, sort of approach," Yves suggests.
"I mean, is this something we steal and pawn off? Or something that we'd blow up our own ship with if we tried it?" Linnet hasn't been looking anyone else in the eye for this entire conversation. She's slowly picking apart a chocolate croissant as though the secret formula for energy ethers is hidden inside. "...or something we give to Artemicion, I guess there's always that option."
Bast resurfaces from whatever calculations he was chasing and catches up with the conversation. "...wait, seriously? Because if we're trying to blow a depot of bluespirit, this just got Yves-grade interesting. And the whole 'no casualties' thing basically goes out of the window unless we can clear the whole yard beforehand."
“Can we spirit away a whole depot?” Orrey asks.
"How much space do we have in the hold? As a side benefit, it'd be worth an enormous amount of money." Isa says this in a guest dining room large enough to house a small family, which should calibrate her idea of what an enormous amount of money is.
"I'd be very surprised if they have more in storage than we can fit in the hold. Bluespirit doesn't come cheap and doesn't win fights sitting on the ground," Bast says.
"So, add the heist to the destruction, but still try not to kill anyone. Right? Please?" Linnet finally tries to look everyone in the eyes at the same time, her own eyes bloodshot and desperate.
"You really don't have to beg, Linnet. No one wants anyone to die here," Isa says.
"Sounds like the heist by itself would do the job several times over," Bast adds.
"...it's politics. Not to accuse your mother in particular, but a lot of folks tend to die for the sake of politics. And I didn't sign on to kill people. So thank you for that." Linnet bows her head to Isa and finally starts eating breakfast.
"I didn't even want to kill the dragon," Yves says to Linnet, offering her a tentative pat on the shoulder with the hand not currently wielding a fork of eggs. "We'll be careful."
"As far as I know, Albarea hasn't killed any of our people." Isa says "our people" with a distinctly possessive tone, but not a cold one. "And we're not about to cross that line first."