Episode 2: The Unwritten Rules

Gokrenxia    Prose    Tales of the Inner Council      Episode 2: The Unwritten Rules

Previously, on Tales of the Inner Council

King Ga'jam Ch'luun's Final Decree disolved the monarchy of the fledgling kingdom of Vath'azen, leaving the 50-years young kingdom in the hands of his Inner Council. In a surprise turn of events, he also appointed a Myndikin to the new "ruling" council, a decision which has rapidly led to deep anger in the capital city of Stoverj.
Word of a riot reached the council; angry Vath youth, members of the nobility, were burning homes in protest to the notion that King Ch'luun would name a Myndikin, specifically a Dwarf, to the council. Lords Davu Pa'lakh, Grand Marshall, and Yahri Negdahe, Chief Diplomat and Arbiter, rushed from the council chambers to address the issue.

Stoverj Council Chambers

Lord Chodvar Taibil, the green-scaled Mahnkii nobleman and Vath’azen’s Master of Commerce sat upright with his hands neatly folded in the silence that filled the council chambers in the wake of Davu and Yahri’s rapid departure to deal with the reported riot. His huge, round eyes stared absently at the crumpled scroll Yahri had carelessly dropped onto the central table. His mind turned over endless puzzles.
To his left, from next to the tall opaque window - pointed in classical Elven style - the delicate fabric of an exquisite midnight blue dress swished softly as the black and white panther-like form of Jenta Hua’zur, Mistress of Shadows, shifted.
“Did you know?” asked Chodvar softly into the silence, absently brushing remnants of the scroll’s red wax seal from the table.
Jenta looked away from the window and her own thoughts, arms crossed in her typical stand-offish way. Her intense orange eyes narrowed slightly as she spoke.
“Did I know what?” she questioned curtly, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.
Chodvar’s head lifted, his large eyes rotating to meet hers, as his hand gestured toward the scroll.
Jenta frowned. “Don’t play coy with me, Lord Taibil,” she began, hurling the title like an insult. “Your precious noble friends aren’t here. Drop the pretense! If you have a specific question, ask.” She moved gracefully but purposefully across the room, everything about her demeanor screaming for a fight. Chodvar tensed for a moment, a flicker of doubt around her intentions playing out in his mind, until she took a seat across from him, staring like a predator waiting expectantly for its trapped prey to move. A shiver ran down his spine.
Chodvar sighed slowly, audibly, attempting to maintain his external composure before beginning to speak. “Very well,” he nodded calmly. ”Did you know of the King’s intent to dissolve the monarchy?”
Jenta studied the young Lord closely, her sharp mind turning over responses for several long moments before clearly arriving at some internal decision. “I didn't know it was his final decision,” she sighed, slumping back in the leather chair. Her dress folded in around her legs. “But I had heard he was giving the idea significant consideration.”
Chodvar nodded slowly. “I’m sure you saw how the nobles responded to his decree. They think it falsified.”
“Change is hard,” she chuckled. “Especially for you nobles.”
He sat quietly for a moment, carefully choosing his words to not incite her mercurial nature. “But, what if it was?”
Jenta inhaled sharply, sitting up, gripping both arms of the chair. Clearly she was preparing an acerbic, condescending response, but Chodvar raised his hand and continued before she had the opportunity to speak. “Can WE, you and I,” he emphasized, ”somehow prove the decree was legitimate?”
Her head tilted to one side slightly in consideration, her eyes scanning back and forth across the ceiling.
“If we could somehow prove…” he began.
“Be silent a moment!“ she chastised sharply. ”Please,” she added a bit more gently, realizing how strong her own reaction had been. Chodvar felt the heat rising in his face, and hoped it wasn’t reflected in his outward appearance.
Jenta stood, pacing the council chamber, and speaking aloud to no one in particular. “To establish the decree’s validity, we would essentially need to confirm everything from the time it left his hands to the time it was read to the court.” She snapped her clawed fingers. “The Court Historian! Perhaps we could start with him and work backwards, yes?”
Chodvar sat, quietly staring at the fierce panther-woman internally debating for a moment if he should respond at all, but he loved a good mystery, and her enthusiasm was contagious.
“Indeed! And…“ he popped up from his seat. “…the historians should have other documents he’s written. We should be able to compare the handwriting.”
“An excellent point,” she nodded.
“Then, Councilor Hua’zur," he began. "Might we agree to work together to prove the validity of the King’s Final Decree?”
Jenta bowed her head in an unusual display of deference. “Indeed we may, Lord Taibil.”
Her politeness and formality was almost unnerving.

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What follows is an Ironsworn RPG solo session. My notes will generally be captured in the form of: Character Initials: action

six-sider/ten-sider/ten-sider-result(Strong, Weak, Miss)

Effect

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Setting: Council Chambers JH: Gather Information +network

8/1/3-S

+2M

CT: Search an Iron Vow - Bannersworn, Prove the decree’s validity Dangerous

5/5/6-M

A significant hurdle!!

See next scene

Stoverj Library: Roaming The Halls

Chodvar vastly preferred the frenzied pace and the clink of coins in The Stacks over the stillness and silence of the massive, ancient Library of Stoverj. Throughout his time in Vath’azen’s capital city, he’d generally avoided the Library altogether. Its rows upon rows of seemingly identical, incredibly cramped shelves twisted and turned in a dizzying maze that made it easy to get lost.
Maybe the Elves built it that way on purpose, he mused, following quietly behind Councilor Hua'zur's lithe form. It was hard to imagine that decades ago, the infamous Kynekin Amari Wa'la had launched the rebellion against the Elven Empire somewhere in this very building.
He’d always thought the air felt stale here. It bore a strange musky smell of oil, leather, dust, and candles. But most unnerving to the Mahnkii noble were the strange Hadymaar; the white-robed order of Elves who placed the protection of knowledge, Elven knowledge, above all else; allegedly even over the Elven Empire itself. They seemed to lurk around every corner, shrouded in shadow, still and silent, always watching. If the court rumors were to be believed, the fanaticism of the Hadymaar to not betray the coveted secrets of Elven magic to the Kynekin required they remove their own tongue.
Chodvar shivered at the thought. He was glad Councilor Hua'zur knew the most likely places to find the Historians and found himself wondering at what part the Library’s extensive knowledge might play in her role orchestrating the collection and dissemination of Vath intelligence, for such was the job of Mistress of Whispers. His mind meandered, romanticizing the cloak and dagger world of spies and information in which he suspected she lived.
He realized he’d fallen a bit behind and increased his speed. Rounding yet another corner of dusty books, Chodvar was completely unprepared to find the councilwoman having come to a complete stop. He nearly slammed into her, managing to catch himself at the last moment.
She shot a scowl back over her shoulder, clearly restraining herself from unleashing a litany of scathing comments in his direction. Just beyond her, an older, dark blue-robed white-haired goat man, a Rundaba as they were called, smiled warmly. His head was crowned with four conical white horns, his nose a light pink.

"And this, Chief Historian Uk'maad," Jenta continued, "is..."
Uk'maad's eyes lit up and he inhaled sharply in recognition, stepping around Jenta and almost knocking her over. Much to the surprise of the Mahnkii noble, the Chief Historian's knobby hands reached out and began to shake Chodvar's hand vigorously.
"The Son of the Stacks," he whispered excitedly. Chodvar lowered his eyes humbly and failed to hide his smile at the nickname he'd earned in his youth hanging around the mecca of Vath'azen finance. Jenta rolled her eyes, shook her head, and sighed audibly.
"Lord Taibil," the Historian continued. "What a pleasure it is to meet you." Now that he was closer, Chodvar noted a strong, displeasing odor he mentally associated with the ederly.
Chodvar coughed slightly and donned an ingratiating smile. "You flatter me Chief Historian. I am admittedly surprised the nickname from my youth would be known to you."
"Please my Lord, you may call me Uk'maad." The goat-man smiled broadly, taking a step back. "All of the ledgers from The Stacks come here once they are full, where we catalog and review them. We have an entire course on identifying discrepancies in the counting of the coin. How your brilliant young mind uncovered the scandal to siphon funds from the Kingdom serves as a most excellent case study for our Apprentices."
Jenta cleared her throat, clearly irritated. Chodvar jumped in before she spoke.
"Again, I am truly flattered Master Uk'maad. I would love to hear more, but unfortunately we are here on a matter of business."
"Indeed?" One of Uk'maad's expressive eyebrows raised in intrigue. He stepped to the side, allowing him to easily see both Jenta and Chodvar. "How can this humble servant of the Kingdom assist our most respected Ruling Council?"
Chodvar glanced to Jenta, who nodded subtly. "We're looking for the senior Historian who read King Gajam's Final Decree. He was Vyrian, I believe."
Uk'maad nodded knowingly. "Ah yes, of course. That would be Senior Historian Saklay'n. Let me see if I can locate him for you."
"Thank you so very much," Chodvar responded with a warm smile. "And while you're doing that, would it be possible to have someone show us to archives of King Ga'jam's previous letters and decrees?"
"Of course, my Lord." Chief Historian Uk'maad bowed his head respectfully, waved over several Apprentices to attend to the Councilors' needs, and sped away on his task.

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CT: Make a connection:

7/5/6-S

Connection: Uk'maad
Role: Vath'azen Chief Historian
Rank: Troublesome Traits:

Selfish

Cheery

Motivations:

Obtain an object

Swear Family

Overwhelm Passage

Stoverj Library: A Secluded Room

With the support of Apprentice Historians, Jenta and Chodvar poured over King Ga’jam’s previous missives. She was amazed at how incredibly attentive the young Lord was to every detail - the swoop, the size, and the slant of every letter. He was resolute in his efforts to compare every marking on the scroll. Hours passed, and with it an increasing certainty that the decree was written by the King’s hand. Books and piles of scrolls lay haphazardly strewn across the tables of the cramped room.
In the entryway, someone cleared their throat. “Well,” came Uk’maad’s voice as he surveyed the tornado of documentation. He glared at his Apprentices, who exited the room quickly. Uk’maad sighed. “I see you two have been... busy?”
Chodvar sat back in his chair and massaged his forehead, his eyes a bit glazed over. Jenta stood and stretched her muscular black arms high overhead.
"Thank goodness," she began, "I'm losing my mind reading all of this dribble." Uk'maad blinked in surprise and opened his mouth as if to protest referring to the deceased King's words in such a disgraceful manner, but Chodvar, anticipating the Chief Historian's thoughts, caught Uk'maad's attention with wide eyes and shook his head in a subtle warning, which he heeded.
"Did you find the Historian we were looking for?" Jenta questioned. "What was his name again?"
"Saklay'n," responded Uk'maad. "Senior Historian Saklay'n. And well," Uk'maad shifted anxiously, turning his attention to Chodvar. "I'm afraid to report he apparently found the near-violent events surrounding his presentation of the King's final decree particularly distressing and sent word renouncing his position amongst the Historians."
Jenta's eyes narrowed to a predatory stare not at, but through the elder Chief Historian, her mind ever vigilant in seeking the unseen forces moving amid the shadows. He swallowed nervously and shifted his weight from side to side subtly, looking back and forth between the two members of Vath'azen's newly crowned ruling council.
"I..." he continued, unable to look away from the fierce Mistress of Whispers. He was certain she was slowly closing the distance between them. His speech accelerated. "I took the liberty of locating his dwelling." He extended a parchment in her direction. "In... in case you wanted to speak with him there."
Uk'maad jumped with a startled "Oh!" as Chodvar's green-scaled form stepped into his field of view, between he and Councilor Hua'zur. The Master of Commerce took the parchment with a wide smile and placed a calming hand on the Chief Historian's shoulder.
"Thank you, Chief Historian," Chodvar started. "The Council shall not forget your diligent service." He was not yet entirely comfortable referring to their group as the "Ruling" Council.
Uk'maad nodded, shoulders relaxing. His eyes scanned the documents on the table where Chodvar had been sitting. "It seems you are intently studying the infamous Decree. Is there anything specific I or my Historians might do to assist or expedite your research?" Chodvar looked to Jenta.
She cleared her throat, and motioned for the group to sit before beginning to speak in a low tone. "There are those who would claim the King did not write these words. If that were to be true or even thought to be true by enough people, the consequences..." She paused.
Uk'maad nodded. "...would be dire," he whispered. "May I?" He motioned to the scroll. Jenta nodded. He slid the decree in front of him and shook his head disapprovingly as he smoothed the creases from improper handling.
"Is there a reason you chose not to work with the original?" He asked casually.
The councilors locked eyes, confusion playing across their faces. "What?" Jenta questioned in a deeply condescending tone. Uk'maad looked up innocently. It was Lord Taibil who responded.
"Good sir," Chodvar began, feeling his heart rate increasing. "This is the same scroll the Chief Diplomat, Lord Negdahe, read to the court."
Uk'maad gave the pair a sagely smile and shook his head. "No, no. That can't be right. Look." He slid two other scrolls from across the table. Jenta and Chodvar sprung up and circled to his side, mesmerized while he schooled them as if they were but Apprentice Historians. "Look here at the colors of the vellum upon which these are written."
Chodvar nodded,"I see the Final Decree is darker in color that the other two. But..."
"…But what does that mean?" Jenta interjected, her voice carrying a hint of impatience.
"Oh. Of course. Of course." The old goat-like man nodded. The long white hairs of his chin bobbed up and down. "Here in the Library, my Historians make archival copies of most documents. We go to great lengths to retain even the smallest of the original marks to ensure nothing is lost. When specific documents are requested to read or review," he motioned to the two lighter colored scrolls, "we pull copies. It's a very specific kind of vellum. The King, on the other hand, uses, rather... used... a different and more rare vellum for anything written by his hand or written in his name. The skin on which your document is written," he motioned to the Councilors' decree, "is neither of those. It's one of our unwritten rules."
The trio fell silent for several long moments as they considered the ramifications.
“So someone,” Chodvar began to pace the small library room, “was skilled enough to write a document in the King’s hand, but didn’t know enough about the Historian’s processes to realize the vellum they chose mattered so much?”
“Although,” Jenta countered, “the King himself could have written it, without care for norms or standards. After all, it's just paper. It wouldn’t be completely out of character for him.”
“Sure.” Chodvar considered the opposing view and turned to Uk’maad. “If the rare vellum was commonly available in his room, why would he choose some other medium? Wouldn't the King have had to write the decree somewhere else, or perhaps written it in secret?”
“That would make sense, my Lord,” answered Uk’maad.
“But,” Jenta shook her head in disagreement. “That doesn't make sense. He was bedridden these last few weeks. He didn’t leave his room. Uk’maad,” she turned. ”Is there anything else you can tell us about this particular vellum? Where does it come from?”
“I’m sorry Councilor. That I don’t know,” he responded sincerely.
Chodvar spoke up. "Perhaps we can ask some of the local merchants?"
"Perhaps," Jenta nodded hesitantly. "Or perhaps you might let me ask a few people I know." She eyed Chodvar, who raised an intrigued eye but restrained himself from asking more. "Meanwhile, you and I might pay a visit to Historian…?” Unable to recall his name, she glanced to Uk'maad.
“Senior Historian…” Uk’maad corrected. Jenta shot him a glare. “My apologies... Saklay’n. His name is Saklay'n,” he finished nervously.
"What about Lords Pa'lakh and Negdahe?" questioned Chodvar.
"I'm sure they can handle whatever comes up," she responded.
Collecting the scroll and information on Senior Historian Saklay'n's residence, the two headed for the door. Jenta paused at the entrance, turning back to Uk'maad. “Thank you for your service today, Chief Historian."
Without warning, her voice took on a more menacing tone. "Everything continues as normal. Speak of this to no one.” Caught off-guard by the dramatic shift, he nodded, wide eyed, and then they were gone.
Uk'maad took several moments to compose himself. It had been quite the eventful day in the Library. He looked back over the piles of disarray, shook his head in disapproval, and bellowed for the Apprentices to come rectify the mess they’d helped create.

To Be Continued...

Show spoiler

JH: Aid an Ally, Secure Advantage

8/4/9

CT gets +2M

CT: Gather Information (Forgery?)

Sleuth 1

5/6/7/8-M

Pay the Price

Endure Stress: -1Sp

7/4/3-S: Shake it off +1Sp

CT: Gather Information (Vellum)

Sleuth 1

9/3/7/10-S

+2M

Reach A Milestone: Mark Progress

Prove the Decree's Validity

2/10