"Quite the show," Kayden remarked to Calliope. "My lady," he added as an after thought. She had informed him he needn't the pleasantries while they played chess and conversed strategy and philosophy, but it was good to continue the titles in public. They stepped onto the cobbled streets of the town as the sun waned, and both Morrsleib and Mannsleib loomed in the distance. Mercifully, Mannsleib seemed the greater this approaching evening.

"Not be design," The Lady Blackwood replied, though a look at Kayden's amusement had her give a ghost of a smile. "It seems wherever I go, there is a bit of theater."

"No complaints on my end. Though if they see how many men I have under my command, there might be a bit too much theater." He reminded her with an insouciant smile. "If you recall, I have quadruple what you told the good Baron."

"Worry not, for you'll only be bringing in a few at a time to Bonnershaven. But enough to give the illusion I was off by a few dozen, not a few hundred." She temporized, turning the corner with her retinue and Kayden. A wagon of grain stopped before them in an almost dangerous swerve when they saw the heavily armored knights that scowled at the teamster.

"I take it this Von Wrolf is your old acquaintence who has an item you wish to re-acquire, my lady?"

"Astute as always." She said, sighing. Evidently it was going to be more difficult than she had originally anticipated. "I'll have to arrange a meeting where neither of us can surprise the other. In the meantime, see to your men, Captain."

Kayden turned to her, his cloak whirring extravagantly as he gave her a courtly bow. "As the dark lady wishes." He said, in a way so solemn she could grasp a hint of waggishness in his tone. Otto lifted his head as if to say 'be off, peasant,' but as usual, Kayden ignored him, and stalked off with his pair of guards to make his way back to the camp.

---

Within the next few hours, as night fully fell, Kayden returned with twenty five of his men, without their surcoats and only knives and more concealed weaponry, so as not to appear under arms. The gates, luckily, stayed open all night.

"State your business, sir." A night watchman asked, his face glowing like an ember in the flames of his torch.

"I am Kayden, a man of Lady Calliope Blackwood. We are simply coming in to taste the hospitality of your fair town." Kayden informed him from his horse. The man glanced behind him to the ragtag group of men who looked casual but alert. Neil waved jovially, and one of the few brettonian men spit onto the ground. After another moment of appraisal, the guard pursed his lips and nodded.

"Right, off you go, then. I suggest you try to the Boar's Head. Got enough room for all your lads." He said, waving them in. Kayden gave the man a nod and set his horse into a canter, the men following behind. Kayden saw his men to the establishment. It was three stories high and well built, with a stone base and warm light inside. As its name suggested, a huge, stuffed boar's head the size of a horse's chest was mounted above the front archway.

"I don't know about a boar, but I'll see if I can find some head in here." A voice quipped. He recognized the voice.

"If you get into trouble, I'm not bailing you out, Neil." Kayden remarked over his shoulder. There were a few chuckles and some murmuring voices, before he saw them off into the common room. Neil was shoved, and he shoved another man back as they stumbled into the alehouse. As the last man stepped in, scratching his ass and closing the door to mute the raucous voices within, Morek was the only one left who stood beside Kayden's mount.

"You don't want to join them?" Kayden asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Beer'll be piss poor." Was Morek's only explanation. The Prince remembered they still had some Bugman's XXX back at camp, so he saw the wisdom in it. He dismounted his horse out of respect for the dwarf, knowing he would easily outpace him even if he slowed his mount to a crawl.

"Well, let us check on the lady before we make it back. See if she's in need of anything." Kayden said. Morek shrugged, as fine with trekking there as anything. Dwarfs weren't fast, but they were tireless, something he had learned from long marches beside the Ironbreaker. Kayden directed his steed by the reins, and the two mercenaries turned northward and headed up the main drag of Bonnershaven, past the street lamps glowing with camphine lights and the few residents still out past dark. He knew he didn't have to be on high alert. There was little to fear for the two of them, armed and tough. Well, armed, and at least Morek was both. However, as they passed an alleyway, Kayden saw another pair of figures conversing in the shadows. He might not have noticed them, if the bright colors of the watchmen's tabard weren't caught by the wan light of Mannsleib. Kayden halting has alerted the dwarf, and he nodded for Morek to take a look. The dwarf turned his attention to the alleyway with mild interest. The pair of them were not very close, across the breadth of the cobblestone street, and they'd not be able to pick up finer details even were it daylight. However, Morek had better nightvision than Kayden.

"What do you make of that?" Kayden asked him. Even as he spoke, the more darkly clad figure that spoke to the watchman hurried off, and the Bonnershaven man strode out as if he had just finished a routine patrol.

"Not sure. I didn't like the look of it. He was armed but, probably not our business." Morek said. Kayden looked at him, and Morek shrugged. "Yer right," he conceded. "It's probably our business."

Twenty minutes later, and after a short roundabout way, making a circuit around the townhouse Calliope had procured for herself, Morek had spotted three men in the same dark cloaks conversing in hushed tones behind a grain storehouse just across the way from where Calliope and her men were holed up for the night. Kayden and Morek hid behind a cart a few dozen paces away, crouched down with blades drawn, silent as the grave. A night watchman strolled across the street, and a rat scurried out of his way, but otherwise this part of town was as dead as Morr's realm.

Whatever the cloaked figures were arguing over, the men had come to some sort of agreement. As one, they began to move and crept up the outer stairway of the grain house. It was a spiral that led to an overlook that would be relatively equal to the third floor of the townhouse. Kayden rightly guessed it was where Calliope would be, as nobility often took the bedroom at the top floor, for safety reasons and as a vague gesture of their heightened status. Even with his human eyes, Kayden could see they held large crossbows as they ascended.

"Me first, then you." Kayden whispered to Morek. The dwarf usually went ahead, as he could take an inhuman amount of punishment, but his heavy boots might raise the alarm and Kayden wanted to be quick and silent. Kayden and the dwarf hurried across the cobblestones, and the Prince stepped up the stairway with soft steps on the balls of his feet. As he moved up, the more lights in the distance he could see across the township. Bonnershaven might be a full fledged city in a few years, if it prospered any further.

Finally, he made it to the highest level, and slowed himself. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and as he moved like a thief, he saw the townhouse come into view. From this vantage, he could see the various armored clad figures on the bottom floor, and a handful passed intermittently between light sources on the second and third, save for at the center, where the largest window stood. Kayden glanced to his left, and saw one of the men placing a bolt on a crossbow quietly, as another pulled the string back on his crossbow to prepare. Kayden couldn't guess where the third was, until he heard a whisper from behind him.

"Clever, but not clever enough."

Kayden expected to feel a knife enter his back, but instead he felt more than heard a strangled gasp, and he spun to see the cloaked figure stricken, his cowled face wide eyed. As he fell, Morek stood behind him, yanking his axe out of the man's back. Kayden gave him a nod in thanks, and then rushed forward, sword bristling. Just as he turned the corner, he heard one of the assassins whisper something, a confirmation perhaps, and Kayden saw Calliope step into view. She was accompanied by the low, appreciate whistle of the assassin, and Kayden saw her shapely silhouette in the light. She wore naught but her undergarments, stretching in the light, a movement that only enhanced her charms. Kayden's mouth was dry, but he realized he was gawking.

He took a hold of his senses, and leaped out of the shadows behind the corner. His arming sword chopped down on the man's right arm, his blade cutting into bone. The man let out a started cry, and the crossbow loosed. Its bolt struck the window, two feet to Calliope's left. She spun, eyes wide, and with a flash of her hands, darkness obscured the room. The lights could not have gone out. It was a deeper black than that.

The assassin shouldered Kayden, and yanked his crossbow back to bite him in the side. But the Prince pommeled him in the face, and swung his sword at the other assassin who lifted his crossbow to end Kayden's life. His sword clove through the string, and the crossbow snapped. Its string whipped about as Kayden finished the first assassin off by grabbing his legs and upending him over the balcony. Kayden heard him breath in as he began to flail, and screamed the two dozen meters to the ground.

The last man took out a knife to defend himself, but he found himself face to face with a sword pointed at his head, and an angered dwarf behind the dashing captain.

"You can die now, or be questioned." Kayden said menacingly, letting his words sink in. "I suggest the latter."

It turned out that getting Bertrand the Blade to talk was not difficult. The challenge was getting him to shut the hell up. Kayden had brought the assassin into the town house as sword point. Sir Otto was spluttering with rage, furious that his precautions to guard his mistress had proven so ineffective. Calliope, having donned a silk dressing gown to make herself more or less decent, joined them in the kitchen which had been chosen due to its lack of windows and ready access to knives and fire. Not that such motivation was necessary.

“...and zen zey made me zeir chief,” Bertrand said, continuing a long and completely tangential anecdote about how he had risen to command of the band of cut throat which Kayden and Morek had just dispatched. He certainly didn’t seem cut up about it, if anything he seemed to be in a fine mood. Rather a better one than he would be if he didn’t get to the point shortly Calliope thought blackly. Bertrand was a rather handsome man in early middle age with a thin and obviously well cared for pencil mustache. His Brettonian heritage would have been obvious from his prominent nose even if he wasn’t doing actual violence to Riekspiel with each word he spoke.

“Yes, quite,” Calliope interjected, eyes flashing with irritation.

“Perhaps, if you were to skip to the part where you tell me who hired you to kill me,” she suggested icily.

“Oy oui, le wizarrd, van Wrulf, 'é 'iaiyairéd mé to keehl you zis vairy nigh,” Bertrand explained, “'é paid me a 'undred tilean ducats. Bon!”
Otto arched an eyebrow in disgust at this confession, his face dark as he crossed his muscular arms. If it was intimidating Bertrand it did not show.

“That is it, you roll over on your employer just like that,” the Knight demanded.

“Oh oui monsieur of curse! Should ai be all stoic and zén maibe le préttay lady starts peeleng mon skin off, ai tell haire zen ai assure you, and all zat blood and effairt to get to zé same plaz!” Bertrand explained as though speaking to a simpleton.

“No honor among thieves ey?” Otto sneered.

“Ai am non thief ai am 'ow do you sai a throat cooter!” Bertrand objected, clearly offended by the insinuation. Calliope set the knife down and massaged her temples with her fingers. Bertrand’s eyes flicked between Calliope and Kayden a hopeful smile on his lips.

“As you can see eet eez nothéng pairsonal! You seem lik love-lee peopl!”

“So Van Wrulf hired you to kill me. Seems extreme, we didn’t part on good terms but..”

“Oh non madmosielle 'e eez afraid of you 'e thinks you come to steahl 'is tréasur!” Bertrand blurted. Calliope turned to regard the assassin, an eyebrow arched. What kind of treasure could Van Wrulf have that he thought she had come for.

“And ai weehl tell you all abut eet if you promizé not to keehl me,” Bertrand added quickly. Otto back handed the bound man, rocking him back on the rickety chair. For a miracle it didn’t break.

“We could just start cutting off fingers till you tell us,” Otto snapped.
“Oui but all ze effairt, all le mez,” Bertrand pointed out reasonably, shrinking away from the Knight.

“Enough Otto, leave us,” Calliope ordered sternly.

“But my lady your safety…”

“Is apparently in good hands as I have escaped one assassination attempt tonight already,” she replied tartly, "perhaps your time would better be spent securing the house. “ The jibe went in like a knife. Otto’s face blackened with rage and he stood very still for a few seconds, a slight tick in his left eye, then he turned and stalked from the room without another word.

“Very well,” Calliope acquiesced, “tell me of this treasure and I will let you live. You have my word on it.”

Bertrand’s eyes flicked between Kayden and Calliope again but he obviously realized that this was his best hope. He nodded his head.

“'e didn't tell me what eet was but ai saw eet, eet was a crystal key, 'e 'ad eet around 'is nek and 'e kept clutcheng at, zat is all I know.”

Calliope was uncharacteristically silent, a look of shock on her face. She made a curt gesture and a ghostly image of a crystal key floated above her palm. It twisted slowly in the air, showing off it’s many facets.

“Is this what you saw?” she demanded. Bertrand nodded his head trying to edge back away from the display of magic.

“The Keys of Al’Kazi,” Calliope said, shaking her head. How had Van Wrulf managed to get it. The artefact had been kept secured in the amethyst college and there was no way they would have let it go unless…

“That was his price for turning on me,” Calliope said in a moment of revelation, “the worm betrayed me to get his hands on it and now he has left Altdorf before the College demands it back…”

“You weehl let me go now oui?” Betrand asked hopefully. Calliope leaned towards the assassin and spread the palm of her right hand. Purple energy arched from finger tip to fingertip as she chanted. The temperature dropped sharply and a glyph began to form in her palm.

“Oh I didn’t say anything about letting you go, I just said I wasn’t going to kill you,” Calliope said with a wicked smile curving her lips. There was a sudden snapping sound and an abbreviated scream. A raven stood on the chair where Betrand had sat. It flapped its wings and took to the air, wavering unsteadily as if unsure how to to fly. It hit the wall and flopped onto the ground then looked up at Calliope with red, confused eyes. She extended her hand it it leaped into the air, unsteadily landing on her night gown and clawing it’s way up onto her shoulder.

“This changes things, we will need to plan,” Calliope declared. The raven tilted it’s head and cawed loudly in emphasis.

Wissenland was a rugged, boring stretch of land. Old Solland was a haunted wasteland, and the rest of the province was naught but raw resources and the men and women who got dirty to collect them. Riekland's many ports and walled townships gave innumerable places to visit. However, Wissenland was almost devoid of that kind of life. Every aristocrat that was not ostracized or not required to give direct supervision over their estates inevitably spent the majority of their time in one of the two places in Wissenland that had any real value: Nuln, the black jewel of the Empire. Word had it the Countess Emmanuelle wanted nothing more than to make it's status as an Independent City State a more permanent position, and to cut ties from the province entirely. So far, the Emperor Karl Franz has put off his decision, and so the good Countess has decided to leave the running of Wissenland to the local aristocracy, particularly the Toppenheimer family of Pfieldorf. Instead she reportedly throws extravagant parties and entertains guests from across the Old World, and despite her hands-off rulership, the people of Nuln love her.

Much of this Kayden had heard, but a corporal named Bertolt had grown up near the West Gate, and had intimate knowledge of the layout and the general news of the area. Last he heard, not much had changed for the four years he had been away. Various wealthy and high profile men and women from across the empire, and even a few from Brettonia and Kislev made semi-permanent places in Emmannuel's extravagant court. Much of them were successful merchants, Nuln being a hotbed for both trade and manufacturing. That bit became evidently clear, as Kayden, Calliope, and their two respective forces approached from the South Gate, the least of the gates that was typically used for trade and not much else. Immediately within the gate were the two least sophisticated areas: The industrial area, where all the raw goods were processed, and the Faulestadt District, where all of the trades that were deemed 'too smelly' to tolerate be conducted. Tanneries, Butcher shops, the lesser taverns, those sorts of businesses.

When Kayden had informed Calliope, Sir Otto seemed aghast at the notion, urging her they cross the reik at once and come in through a more auspicious entrance. She seemed to consider it, before glancing at Kayden. Otto's face went red, the knight commander and Kayden having nearly come to blows multiple times over what Kayden had to guess was his lady's 'affections.' Yes, it was true Kayden found her quite attractive, but the man had wanted him dead or gone before Kayden had even considered any fantasies on that score.

"The men are tired and eager. I feel it would be best to grant them leave first, and in the place they can make the least trouble." The Prince Captain advised her. "There is a poor quarter, but I don't want brigandry at or from the men, and it would suit you and your men to lose the...shackles of mine, and arrive across the central bridge in style."

Calliope pursed her ruby lips, and Kayden could see her calculating. Despite her beauty, she had an almost reptilian coldness about her when she was thinking. It unnerved him, and only made her dark magics that much more off putting. Despite it all, however, she was a joy to play chess with and have as a debate partner for much of a night. And he could also recognize the look of recognition she gave before agreeing with him.

"Very well, that sounds adequate." She said, glancing at Otto to warn him of any protestations. "Of course, Captain Kayden and a few select men of his will be joining us."

"What!?" Otto stammered.

"My lady..." Kayden began, but she shot him a look just as reproachful, and he immediately gave up. Kayden had been looking forward to relaxing, perhaps visiting one of the famous academies and bedding a few wenches. He heard Myrmidia and Verena worship was more tolerated here, even sporting a few temples. Calliope had promised him he could relax, but he supposed he had to wait just a bit more. Though he played it well, cutthroat politics and banquets were not his idea of a good time, unless he was throwing the parties himself of course.

Well, at least it would give him a chance to drink, he supposed.

The city was closer now, the walls easily forty feet high and built with immaculate workmanship. Anyone but a dwarf would be impressed by how imposing and well crafted they were. The gate, though vast, did look somewhat puny compared to what it could have been. It was even guarded by somewhat antiquated bolt throwers, rather than the famous cannon Nuln was so well known for. Two watchtowers, with murder holes and a squad of Nuln patrolmen with their famous pikes stood vigil over the various smaller cargo trains traveling in and out. Past the walls, large plumes of black smoke rose languidly over the horizon, no doubt from the many refineries.

Kayden had no real idea what she was planning, but a raven suddenly appeared and landed on her shoulder, and the sorceress looked at Kayden expectantly.

He inclined his head and bade her forward. Even his horse seemed to lower its head, somewhat.

"Welcome to Nuln, my lady."

The Manse Calliope had rented stood across the street from the Garden of Morr. The house, an impressive pile of gray stone, was aging, its tiled roof defended by crumbling gargoyles and nesting ravens. It was surrounded by overgrown gardens that would have been a luxury in a more popular district. A low stone wall surmounted with wrought iron surrounded it, giving it a slightly menacing air. Large elms reached out over the fence, dropping leaves onto passing travellers as though straining to grasp them.

“You sure can pick them,” Kayden said, somewhat grumpily, “I think I might turn to stone if we found ourselves a nice sun drenched villa.”

The next several days passed uneventfully, save for modifications Calliope was making to her rented house. In accordance with her instructions the place had been cleaned and furnished before she had arrived but she still insisted on inspecting every room and allowed no staff within the walls. This left a great deal of the menial work to whichever of Kayden’s troops managed to get themselves arrested usually for brawling or starting fights with the local watch. This, fortunately or otherwise, provided more than enough bodies to keep the place clean. Calliope spent long hours walking each room and also making circuits of the grounds, occasionally touching the wall or running her hand over a section of masonry. As always she refused to explain her actions but there was a general consensus that she was laying protective spells on the house. That made everyone, with the possible exceptions of Mesmer and Morek, more than a little nervous. The top floor attic space she reserved for herself and forbade anyone to enter, a command that probably would have been unnecessary even without the dozens of ravens that seemed to constantly be in attendance.

“You are welcome to find other accomadation more befiting to you station,” Otto told Kayden snidely.

“Look on the bright side,” Calliope added, making a guesture to encompass the Gardens of Morr, “quiet neighbours, close to the Temple…” The black basalt dome of the Temple of Morr was visible on the other side of the gardens a thin stream of offatory smoke rising from it to join the hazy miasma that seemed to cling to the city. It was not one of the great temples of the Empire archiecturally but like everything in Nuln it felt the need to be large and imposing. The gates to the manor were open and in the cobble stone circle stood two conveyances. One was an elegant carriage in polished chestnut inlaid with gilt trimmings and crimson curtains. The other was a functional but heavily built wagon with an iron cage over the back drawn by four massive dray horses. A dozen men in muted red tabards surrounded it armed with swords and large shields. If Calliope was surprised to see them she didn’t show it, continuing at her stately pace until they joined the company beyond the gates. As she reigned in her horse, a finely dressed man got out of the carriage. He had been muscular in his youth but was obviously going heavy with good food and a lesiurely lifestyle.

“Lady Blackwood,” he said unctiously, “a great pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Yes it is! Yes It IS!” cawed the Raven on Calliope’s shoulder. She absently reached up and scratched the bird.

“Adlebert Bartholomew Bosh I presume?” Calliope asked as Mesmer helped her from her horse and took up a postion to her left.

“You presume correctly madame,” the man, Bosh, replied nervously, clearly resisting the urge to tug at a too tight collar at such an overly precise use of his name. Stories abounded about what a Wizard could do if they knew your true name and those stories rarely ended well.

“You have seen to my directives then?” Calliope enquired, as dismissive of small talk as ever. Bosh nodded and produced a folded parchment from his ermine trimmed coat and extended it to her. Calliope opened it, scanned it, then handed it to Mesmer who tucked it away into a pouch.

“Kliendorf and Bosh prides itself on punctiliousness and discression,” Bosh said with a self important simper. Calliope’s returning smile was so slight it would have been missed by most.

“That is why I choose you of course,” Calliope responded, a slight ironic smirk in her words. It went right over Bosh’s head and he bowed and looked pleased at the compliment.

“Would you like to inspect the uh…” Bosh made a guesture to the wagon. Calliope glanced at it and shook her head.

“You are one hundred and thirty four gelt short, but you may recompense me by leaving the wagon,” Calliope informed him. Bosh’s mouth worked open and closed like a landed fish but after a moment he composed himself and bowed.

“Very well my Lady, if you have any furth need of Kliendorf and Bosh it would be our pleasure to serve.”

“Yes it would, yes it would,” cawed the raven. Bosh bowed and all but scrambled back into his carriage, a moment later both it and the file of guards clattered out the gates. At a word from Otto two of the knights closed it after them and lowered a wooden bar to seal it.

“A hundred and thirty four gelt short of what?” Kayden asked. Calliope indicated the wagon with a nod of her chin and Kayden climbed up onto the back. Inside were a dozen iron hopped barrels. He prized the top one with a knife and let out a low whistle. The barrels were filled with silver coins that glittered in the sunlight. If every barrel contained the same amount, the wagon represented a small fortune.

“Pay for you and your men, I am sure they will enjoy their leave more with coin in their pockets,” Calliope suggested. Kayden nodded his head, running his hands through the silver with a pleasing clink. Calliope noted the surprised look on his face.

“You didn’t think I would string you along with promises forever did you?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.

“It happens more often than you think,” Kayden replied, the mercenary’s cynicism clear in his voice.

“If you wish you may deposit your share with one of the counting houses here, though I would advise against using Kliendorf and Bosh,” Calliope continued. Kayden frowned and turned to her, allowing the coins to trickle through his fingers back into the barrel.

“Why, you banked with them,” Kayden pointed out. Calliope quirked a cruel smile, but the only response was the cawing laughter of several dozen ravens.

__________________________________

Almost from the moment they arrived a steady stream of footmen began to appear bearing calling cards and invitations. Calliope coldly accepted them but made no reply to any of them. Predictably her reclusiveness began to attract invitations from persons of increasingly high rank. Calliope continued to ignore them, spending long hours sequestered in her attic or walking the Gardens of Morr. She collected fallen wood from the elm trees and forbid the burning of anything save coal, which was plentiful in the city if more expensive than timber. She also began to whittle the wood into odd geometric shapes each the size of a human thumb. Mesmer was seen coming and going from the attic, carting up sacks of who knew what.

By the time a week had gone by the troops were beginning to grow rowdy. Many of them had spent their pay advances already and the number of men on ‘house duty’ was growing. Kayden, accustomed to being kept in the dark, bore it stoically. Calliope ate breakfast each morning, the sorceress seeming to subsist almost entirely on pomegranates and black coffee, and discussed news from across the Empire. There were rumors of a necromancer in Sylvania, though such rumors were common enough. The harvest was said to be poor in Reikland and the Emperor was bracing for trouble as he was forced to lean harder on his provinces to feed the heartland. A Brettonian treasure fleet had been caught in a gale in the Sea of Claws and had gone to the bottom. They discussed all these rumors and more. As always Calliope’s interest seemed fixed on Averland and even local gossip about that province was precious too her. Not that this stopped her from ignoring the invitations of several minor nobles from that prosperous province.

Finally, at breakfast on the eighth day, a card arrived that broke Calliope’s apparent determination to remain impassive. It was a gilt encrusted parchment bearing the seal of Baron Eustache Hollerman, inviting Lady Calliope Blackwood and companions to dine the following night. Calliope sat down her coffee and turned to Mesmer. She wrote a quick reply in her elegant spidery hand and scattered sand over it before rolling it up and sealing it with a blob of purple wax from a candle.

“Send a man to tell the Baron and his Lady wife, that we would be delighted to attend,” she told the grim servant. Mesmer nodded and hurried off.

“We really ought to train a couple of your girls to impersonate ladies in waiting,” she mused. Calliope’s party, swollen by Kayden’s mercenaries, was decidedly light on anyone who might be considered genteel, her knights not included.

“I think I’d have to pay a bonus to get them into dresses,” Kayden replied in a neutral tone. Calliope made a dismissive gesture.

“Speaking of bonuses, please bring ten more of your men into the house tonight, make sure that includes Francesca, and don’t include anyone who had a sibling die in childhood,” she instructed, then she paused before continuing as though it were the most natural segway in the world, “and find some clothes that emphasise your princely rank, you know something garish and border-princy, ruffles and plumes and what not,” she continued, casually insulting.

“My Lady,” Otto began, “is a mercenary captain really an appropriate guest?”

“Well I can’t very well show up alone,” Calliope objected “and I need someone vital and handsome.”

“Why?” Kayden demanded. Calliope looked up at him as though surprised he had spoken.

“Hmmm?”

“Why do you need someone vital and handsome?” he demanded. Calliope plucked a pomegranate seed between two fingernails and popped it into her mouth.

“Because unless I very much miss my guess, the Baroness Hollerman will want to seduce you.”

The Hollerman estate was an extravagant, albeit modest demense overlooking the Reik in the old quarter, penned in by a black iron fence resplendent with gilded finials. It was mostly for show, but it kept the vagabonds out, and any determined burglars would be repelled by the large guard dogs and household guard, both lazily patrolling the well manicured gardens and lawns of cut grass. Kayden himself was in the same carriage as Calliope, while his carefully picked troops kept in dual line formation outside the carriage, save for 3 of the women in his troop. Franscesca, as ordered, with her estalian dark hair in a fashionably wound bun, along with Ultinka, a slim and red headed kislevite border woman, her short hair styled and her icey eyes chilled like cold steel, accompanied by pear-shaped imperial mercenary named Gabrielle, her blonde hair in a luxurious ponytail. Each of them were dressed in the same rich amber taffeta, over a very full skirt with pleats at the waist, a scoop neck with piping, sported by a champagne brocade center panel with matching wide sleeves.

Kayden looked at them, and wondered if Neil would not have been a better fit for being in this situation, but then he quickly dismissed that notion. He trusted himself more, and Neil could have his fun out in town. He did not know what the problem was, really. This was his bread and butter, when not on the battlefield. Speaking down to lords, eating their food, sleeping with their wives, and then enjoying some cathayan tea, freshly imported of course. He supposed that whenever he did so, he did it at his own behest and schemes and not for someone else. However, she did pay on time and continued to do so, though Calliope had not yet specified if he was supposed to sleep with the woman or simply distract her for some unspoken of purpose.

For Kayden's part, he was very fashionable but he was not used to being showy. His crimson sleevless jerkin accentuated his shoulders and trim figure, and atop his head was a inky blue pleated cap with ostrich feathers from the distant southlands to give it some added value. By Calliope's behest, his tunic of linen was bronze and exceptionally poofy, though despite the gaudiness, he knew he looked rather handsome. Two things in the world Kayden was confident about. Strategy on the field of battle, and his frustratingly good looks.

Speaking of frustratingly good looking, emphasis on the former, he sat beside the dark lady, resplendent in a gown of black velvet, with an ebon corset that hugged her curves. It was an older style of dress, but still fashionable in certain circles. Her garment was embroidered with amethyst silk, and she was veiled, but her eyes were always seeking. Lady Blackwood seemed to sink into the shadows of the cushions as the carriage jostled around them, and Kayden glanced outside just in time to see they passed the fence into Hollerman estate proper.

The architecture was Dieterean; dramatic, full of grand stairways and intersecting domes and quadrata. Gargoyles with the heads of panthers clung to the flying buttresses of the west wing as they passed, leering at them with fanged maws. The sickly light of morrsleib drenched the cupolas and colonnades, the stone built to give a flair to the traditional light of mannsleib but could only weather the storm of the accursed moon that waxed this night. From the window, he could already see the warm light of the festivities just getting ready within the large windows. As they drew closer, his mind began to work.

"Gabby?" He said suddenly, turning to the blonde. She jumped, placing a hand on her chest.

"Hmmm?"

"No stealing. You thieve, you don't get paid." He told her, and she cursed. Kayden knew she had been plotting as soon as he had turned to her. His eyes went left. "Ultinka? Three drinks. No more."

"Vfine," she dismissed, though he could tell she was disappointed.

"Franscesca?"

"Si? Er, yes" She asked.

"Be yourself and have fun." He said, but added: "Oh, but speak reikspiel."

Now that they were taken care of, Kayden could relax a bit and focus where he needed to: On himself and the Lady Blackwood, as the other girls began to gripe amongst themselves. "In this theater, am I to reciprocate her...advances? And are we to be introduced together, or separately?"

Calliope chuckled, an unusually animated sound for the normally cold sorceress.

“I don’t believe our contract extends quite so far as that,” she observed archly.

“I would caution you that the Baroness Hollerman is a Jade Wizard of some skill,” this last fact was drawn from her lips almost unwillingly.

“I do not know if she would use her arts on you but I cannot rule it out. What I need from you is to gain access to her chambers after the rest of us have left for the night. Esme Hollerman’s appetites are well known and I have no doubt she would relish deploying her charms against someone so close to me.” It was true that Baron Hollerman’s cuckholdrey was an open secret in Nuln. In a world where the Countess Emanuelle didn’t exist that might have been a problem, but the Countess cast a long shadow in which all manner of what otherwise might be improper could flourish.

Further discussion was interrupted as the carriage rolled through the gates and a score of footmen filled out to flank it on either side. Mesmer leaned down from his position as ostler and passed the gilded invitation to a major domo in striped livery and roughed collar. A blast of trumpets preceded opening of a pair of great wooden doors replete with carvings of martial glory. A beautiful woman with honey brown hair piled high in an elaborate beehive emerged on the arm of a vacant looking older man with silvering hair. The woman wore a shimmering emerald green gown and dripped with gold and emeralds and seemed to shine with vitality, an aspect which made her husband seem all the more wan and washed out.

“Calliope Blackwood? How long has it been?” the woman asked in a rich throaty voice.

“Persica,” Calliope responded, her tone every bit as chill as her interlocutors was vibrant. “Since I left Altdorf I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Under something of a cloud as I remember, what was it? A noble intrigue? A Temple investigation? Problems with the law?” Persica Hollerman bubbled, too earnest to be anything other than sincere.

“Something of all three,” Calliope admitted. Persica’s eyes sparkled with mischief while her husband stared distractedly into the middle distance.

“An honor to meet you Baron Hollerman,” Calliope said, her attention shifting to the nobleman. The air seemed to chill and stir as though beaten by the wings of uncounted ravens. Baron Hollerman blinked and started as though awakened from a deep sleep.

“And …uh… you, Lady Blackwood is it?” he asked. Calliope performed a small slightly ironic curtsey. Persica’s lips pressed together in the smallest sign of irritation. The hand resting on her husband’s arm tightened and his face slowly glazed over.

“And who are these healthy looking people?” Persica asked, her eyes flicking to the mercenaries.

“They are my retinue,” Calliope said, waving a vague hand. Persica’s eyes fell on Mesmer and blazed with anger for an unguarded moment before returning to its more pleasant aspect. Mesmer returned her gaze with his customary stony indifference.

“And who is this?” Persica demanded her eyes sparkling as they fell on Kayden.

“This is Captain Caradwalden the leader of my Master at Arms,” Calliope replied.

“Well this is much more interesting than I imagined!” Persica simpered, flashing a smile at Kayden.

“Shall we retire for dinner?”