01 Intro Verdini Diary.png
02 Giuseppe Verdini Diary.png
02 Maria Verdini Diary.png
04 Capos Giovanni Verdini Diary.png
05 Luigi Lucius Verdini Diary.png
06 Cesare Verdini Diary.png
07 Idiot Verdini Diary.png
08 Anna Verdini Diary.png
09 Airhead Verdini Diary.png
10 Outro Verdini Diary.png
Gang—
This is all the information I can give you on the Verdini and what they’ve been up to. I might be an idiot for writing this all down in one place, but if you’re trying to take them down you’re going to need a lot of information, and fast. Hence the thumbprint lock—if I’ve done this right, this journal should only open for Tosca, Rusalka, Charlotte, and the Iron Butterfly. I don't trust your ghoul-fucking groupie yet.
It’s not important how I got your thumbprints. Just keep it SHUT if you're not reading it, alright?
So, a little background. I’m sure you know this, but fuck it. I’m bored and I’m writing it out, in case you've all forgotten over your sabbaticals. (Like I said—keep this diary SHUT.) The first thing you need to know is that the Verdini family has two goals—to leech as much money as they can out of a City that neither needs nor deserves that shit, and to become a controlling political organization in Cantonova. If they could kill the Almavivas along the way, they’d be even happier.
You should also know the main racket. They've got people controlling the trade entrances to the city—namely, the Vía Titania and the main docks. They’ll shake down any goods coming in from whatever industries they’ve decided they can push around that year—taking bribes, sometimes goods for themselves. Alcohol’s a big one right now, as is—weirdly—seafood. The tariffs help run other businesses, which make money and community connections, which help them corrupt as many dumbshit public officials as they can.
This is all under the control of the boss—
Don Giuseppe. The entitled fucking bastard
that started it all. He was born six months before the fall of Bjália, and just before the Free City was, well—free. Was supposed to be heir to the Lord Mayor… but hard to be a fancy little boy-mayor when there's no city left to lord over. Been bitter his entire life that he didn’t get the power & privilege he thinks he deserves.
The Almavivas are savvy—they’ve blocked him from power at every turn. I don't know what a Verdini-run City would look like, on ANY level—& smite me, I don’t want to find out.
Anyway, Giuseppe's been the mastermind the whole time. He's managed to keep the gears running with surprisingly little infighting in the lower ranks. Private guy these days, though. Very private. Few know his whereabouts… hey, don't look at me.
Old Giuseppe’s got three kids:
Don Giovanni,
Don Fredo, &
Donna Maria. You're all… familiar with the eldest, and I’ll get to Fredo later. But...
Donna Maria.
She's a fucking viper. It’s clear she’s the underboss, and Daddy’s favorite. Seems to have the smarts to earn the title—there are some massive, ultra-flashy crimes that I’m all but certain she pulled off. For exampled you ever hear the story of the murder of Almaviva VI? She was absolutely fucking that poor bastard who killed him. Poisoned his blade. My predecessor had proof—hell, we’ve still got the evidence.
But that absolute fucking snake got away with it! She gets away with this shit! Every damn time! I don’t know how she does it, and honestly I’d kind of respect her for it—if I didn’t hate her and everything she fucking stands for.
She’s untouchable enough that you can still find her in VIP company, so long as she can trust there aren’t too many wargraves around who might get bold. This time of year, she’ll usually be schmozing with some poor imbeciles in Cuarto Porata, at the Royal Harbor Yacht Club. Isn’t that the most fucking insufferable sentence? Rich people, I swear…
Under Maria, we find the
capos. As far as I can tell, there are supposed to be eight of them, each controlling a different arm of the horrible writhing kraken of inflicting human misery that they call a “family business.” Most of them are pretty protective over their spheres of influence—now that there's a bit of… truancy, it's gotten messier. if you can somehow muddy the waters just a
little more, they might just eat each other alive. It would be fucking GLORIOUS to watch. I’d bring popcorn.
Let’s start at the outskirts of the operation.
Don Giovanni’s supposed to control the roads—the Vía Titania and outwards through the Borderlands. As I can tell, this is a decision that was made to keep him moving—so he wouldn’t form any TOO too damaging… attachments. Nevertheless, he’s got bastard kids by the dozen scattered everywhere this side of Val-Nurem.
It’s been interesting to see how his family’s handling the situation with him on permanent vacation to you-know-where. Of his “legitimate” spawn, I know his daughter might be resorting to drastic measures—we’ll get to her—but his son is sadly a little... tied up at the moment.
Don Luigi is Maria’s husband, who’s got control over the docks. I genuinely have no opinion on him, besides my overarching conviction that all Verdini are worms not fit to squash under my worst pair of boots. (Actually, that’s not fair. Worms are at least good for the soil...) But with his trade route racket, he seems like a likely substitute during Giovanni’s... absence.
Don Lucius is the treasurer, of sorts, and seems to be muscling in on that same spot. A vain, self-important little shit—although I imagine you’d have to have a pretty fucking high opinion of yourself to be a tax collector and accountant for the mafia and NOT want to slit your own throat every time you get out of bed in the morning.
He’s the baby of the family, and acts like it—grabs for whatever he wants, acts starved for attention, and pouts like a fucking child when he doesn’t get his way. But there’s an inside chance he’s smarter than he fucking looks—he might make a grab for power when he sees an opening. And you know damn well there’s an opening. He’s one to watch.
Speaking of one to watch…
Don Césare, although I’m doing most of the watching these days. You’re all familiar—Don Giovanni’s eldest, vicious battlemaster, and a paladin of some skill. Got his father’s wandering eye, and a weakness for a pretty young twink. I’ve never figured out why he manages to keep that from being quite as big a liability—I assume the answer to that question can’t be great for those poor bastards.
He hasn’t been playing the field too much, lately—bit of trouble coming out of his shell. (Thanks to La Divina, once again, for the most fucking inspired performance I’ve
ever seen.)
And there’s
Donna Alma, the spymaster—my evil counterpart, I guess. Giuseppe’s wife, if you’re keeping track of the family tree. Oh, one big difference between me and her—people have actually seen me in the last four years. She is either incredible at this, or
super dead.
Don Alfonso is the family idiot. He’s Maria’s oldest, and got a triple dose of the Verdini entitlement. He’s bitter that Mommy dearest hasn’t given up more power, and is always trying to prove himself to a woman who will, correctly, never think he’s worth giving two shits about. (Again, I’d respect the fucking bitch if she wasn’t a vaguely elf-shaped demon who’s spent centuries trying to destroy everything I’ve ever loved.)
After what I can only gather was absolute fucking DECADES of whining, they sent him off as a “religious liaison”—big FUCKING joke if you ask me. He's put himself in with some Sarastran Order. They've got weird shit about women, sex, alcoholw honestly, you name it, they’ve got a complex about it. No SHIT Mr. Mommy Issues was drawn to it.
Wait. Did I say Alfonso was the family idiot? I should take that back. He’s one of two. He learned all he doesn’t know from his uncle,
Don Fredo. I find it shocking that Fredo is allowed to operate so much as a fucking salad fork, let alone any aspect of a criminal organization. He‘s the middle child, between Giovanni and Maria—fucking SMITE ME if that doesn’t sound like the most MISERABLE pair to sit between this side of Asmodeus’ asscheeks. Hundred-odd years ago, he made a desperate middle-child plea for attention from Daddy that resulted in… you know the special guest star you're going to see at the opera house? Fredo learned a valuable lesson there—you don‘t control dragons. Dragons control you.
So while you're off enjoying the Very Special Shitshow you're facing at the opera house, go ahead and curse Fredo’s name a little. You can also curse any Verdini's name, at any time. It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free.
And wouldn’t you fucking know it? The last capo’s your buddy
Donna Anna. Yeah, I know—a wargrave’s wife? Don’t be too surprised. That’s just proof that the absolute fucking SNAKE problem in this city’s gotten way too fucking bad.
Here’s what went down, as far as I can tell... Don Giovanni was with Elvira in Cantonova and Anna in Brightwater—both at the same time, both for a long time. They found out about each other, banded together, and blackmailed him until the Verdini cut them in on the whole racket to shut them up. Also fell in love along the way, which is kind of nice.
Less nice—I’ve got intel that Anna’s looped her family winery into the Verdini racket, somehow. If you find yourself in Brightwater—do some snooping for me, will you? My intel there's a little sparse… I wonder if Figaro saw anything while he was there. Here’s hoping they got wrecked by that tsunami back in January.
Usually, no one below the capos is even worth fucking TALKING about. But shockingly, the family airheads have been making some serious noise lately.
Donna Lauretta was supposed to marry this Rinuccio fucker back in December (shit time for a wedding, if you ask me, but there's no accounting for taste). But she couldn’t DREAM of going on with it, not with dear old Daddy (our old pal Giovanni) M.I.A.
She hired some kind of diviner or necromancer or whatever. One of Alfonso’s gross little Sarastran friends, I think. I don’t know much about them, but have your eyes open and see what you can do to find out more.
There’s love in the air for Maria’s youngest, Donna Therése, too. (I hate that I wrote that. Every part of that sentence is gross.) For the past few months, she’s been seeing Ruthven Murgatroyd, of all people. Having a second wargrave’s spouse on the inside sounds
great for them, and potentially
fucking terrible for all of civilized society. One of my agents saw a rock the size of a damn raisin on her finger… for once in my life, I hope to each of the Nine Fucking Hells that I got some bad intel.
Besides that, there are some shopkeepers, associates, etc. scattered around, some reasonably strong trained guards, and who the fuck can even keep track of the bastard children Don Giovanni’s given positions in exchange for their silence? (Although—taking care of the bastards financially is the only half-decent thing the literal motherfucker ever did. There are men in higher society than him who fail to clear even that low fucking bar.)
Keep your eyes open and be wary of who you trust—but anyone I haven’t given you intel on frankly isn’t worth anyone’s energy unless they show up at the business end of your blades. In which case, be my guest. I sure as fuck won’t be crying at the funeral.
And you know what? It pains me to say this, but a couple of the bastards and in-laws might be half-decent people. Be wary as fuck—don’t trust without an absolute dwarven SHIT-TON of proof—but anyone you can turn is, while not a contact I’d personally trust to so much as hold my beer, a start.
Even if your name is absolute filth, you’re not your name—if you decide not to be.
You know the game if you need to talk—guards, armor, etc. Enjoy the opera. Don’t get yourselves killed.
—SG
Last updated Mar 1 Y1111.
For your eyes ONLY.
P.S. I had a quick turnaround on this, alright? If you wanted the pictures to be any fucking good you should have called Lucretia. You know, since you apparently all know each other now. I’m still confused by that.
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