Brynnalia Callae crossed her arms tighter, overlooking the railing in the Goblet, frowning with annoyance as another snowflake landed on her eyelashes.
Snowfall in the desert. Gods and their whims...
What was the point to a snowflake in the desert anyway? Small tiny elaborate thing, all of its intricacies never to be noticed by the casual eye, and only to melt into nothing the instant it handed on the warm stones. It all seemed pointless, to be so beautiful and unique, but only for the lifespan of its drifting descent from the skies.
Brynn remembered reveling in such things as a child. Traveling about the lands with her nomadic mother, one of her favorite places had been the high mountain regions in the winter. Only Coerthas reminded her of those old landscapes now, with its pristine white slopes and the chilly embrace that would seep through the thickest wool coats. She had found the soft snowy mounds forgiving and the beautiful shapes of each snowflake fascinating.
Sometimes, the bard found it hard to recall such memories, and when she did, it always brought about a moment of wistful melancholy.
But such days were gone, and her life now in Ul'dah would lend no leisurely moment for reflective musings.
She had told Gideon North differently though. She told him that all moments of happiness should be pursued relentlessly. That his life of meek contentment was no way to live, and that there was no point to draw a breath if one did not mean to fill the day with some amount of pleasure.
Such were her hedonistic views for as long as she could remember. Before she became employed with Taeros, or even before she became involved with the Ala Mhigan Resistance, her days were filled with pursuit of wine, men, and beautiful things, and not always in that order. It was always easier not to have a purpose, drifting about without care.
But now, the only thing that occupied her days were thoughts on how to stay ahead of everyone else in this rat-infested backstabbing city that was Ul'dah. Brynn glanced back at the Mandercrown estate behind her, and reflected on the night’s events.
She had used Verad Bellveil’s standing invitation to Shaelen for a card game, to draw the Highlander smuggler out of hiding. Brynn had to know if her old friend from her days in the Resistance had used their past acquaintance to plant Gideon North as an employee under Jameson Taeros. The bard thought nothing of the favor she did for Shaelen at first, the smuggler had brought the valet to her stating that he was an old friend in need of a job. Since Brynn had just become employed with one of the wealthier noble in Ul’dah, she was in a generous mood and offered to find him a job as well.
Since then questions had risen. Gharen Wolfsong, another old acquaintance from her days with the Resistance, approached asking both her and Gideon specifically, about turning on their employer. He had mentioned that both her and Gideon’s names were given to him as possible weak links within Taeros’ chain of command.
This she did not like.
At first she thought it was Crofte. The Sultansworn had gotten herself into what she can only imagine as a temporary dalliance with her employer, but still had the strange compunction to try and stay honorable in all things. She even had the gall to insinuate that Brynn was likely better off finding a new line of employment. A part of her wondered if the Sworn herself was working in secret against Taeros, except there were also hints, looks that Brynn would pick up or certain things that Crofte would inadvertently say, that made her suspect that the Sworn was actually developing genuine feelings for the Monetarist noble.
Crofte also had admitted to Brynn that she did direct Wolfsong to the bard, but not North. So then whom? After the Moraby Drydock warehouse raid, Brynnalia discovered that Shaelen had been involved with the owner of the warehouse, Sebastian Redgrave--a name that was suspected as one of Lazarov’s alias. Brynn then began to wonder if there were ulterior motives for bringing North to her to be employed under Taeros.
So she orchestrated the card game to lure both Shaelen and North under the same roof, then brought in a couple of mercenaries that held hard grudges against the Highlander smuggler to pressure her for the truth. Brynn should have known better though. The woman was full of anger and pride, and threatening her only made her dig her heels in deeper. Even with her ear being half blown off by her own gunblade, Shael refused to say anything about Gideon.
But it was the valet himself that told her the truth. Gone were his mild manners, his subservient demeanor. After everyone had departed, he stepped right up to her face, no longer observing any courtesy.
“I hate Nero Lazarov, Brynnalia.†His voice was a low hiss. “I despise him. I hate him far more than Jameson Taeros does. My desire to see him dead outweighs my desire for myself to live. His destruction will be the day I am no longer necessary as a living being. He is responsible for taking everything from me. Because of him, I am a ghost. It is true that I may have ulterior motives in serving Taeros. But don't you fucking dare imagine...that they are anyone's but my own.â€
Brynn had been stunned to silence at his admission. But now she no longer doubted that the valet was working for the pirate. So the goal of the night was achieved after all. She ensured that the butler she had brought to her employer was no spy for Lazarov. So what if she duped Crofte into coming without weapons to have a Sworn presence there? Or lured Shaelen into what seemed like a harmless card game only to ambush her? And the flirtations and the teasings exchanged with Gideon that led him to accept her invitation as well, it was all an act right? It was not as if she was starting to relax or trust the man. So why the bad taste in her mouth now that her plans had come to fruition and she had secured the safety of her own employment?
The bard snorted to herself, dismissing the doubts as a she did the annoying snowflakes. It was then that a moogle flew up to her and handed her a letter. Recognizing the penmanship, she opened it eagerly.
Miss Callae,
I’ve come across proof of the Redgrave/Lazarov link. I require those trade routes to find out what Lazarov is using them for.
-Gharen Wolfsong
Brynnalia curled a slow but wide grin. Not only did she confirm one of Lazarov’s aliases, but she also had managed to turn someone who would have undoubtedly caused trouble for her employer into an ally instead. She knew telling Wolfsong about the possible link between Redgrave and the Yoyorano massacre would turn him against the pirate. She even argued that putting him away would be the best thing for his sister’s well-being and safety.
The bard knew she was using Wolfsong’s compassion as well as his concern for his sister to twist his motivations to suit her own, but in the end, it would be the best thing. For Wolfsong to oppose Taeros and the Monetarists, it would not bode well for him. And this way, he had a chance to save his sister from uncertain misfortune as well. All in all, she knew she should be proud of herself at this turn of events.
Brynn lifted her chin and sauntered toward the gates of the Goblet. She found herself suddenly eager to find a beautiful man and a bottle of fine wine to celebrate her recent successes. She no longer even noticed the snow that were turning to a pitiful droplets on the stones.
Snowfall in the desert. Gods and their whims...
What was the point to a snowflake in the desert anyway? Small tiny elaborate thing, all of its intricacies never to be noticed by the casual eye, and only to melt into nothing the instant it handed on the warm stones. It all seemed pointless, to be so beautiful and unique, but only for the lifespan of its drifting descent from the skies.
Brynn remembered reveling in such things as a child. Traveling about the lands with her nomadic mother, one of her favorite places had been the high mountain regions in the winter. Only Coerthas reminded her of those old landscapes now, with its pristine white slopes and the chilly embrace that would seep through the thickest wool coats. She had found the soft snowy mounds forgiving and the beautiful shapes of each snowflake fascinating.
Sometimes, the bard found it hard to recall such memories, and when she did, it always brought about a moment of wistful melancholy.
But such days were gone, and her life now in Ul'dah would lend no leisurely moment for reflective musings.
She had told Gideon North differently though. She told him that all moments of happiness should be pursued relentlessly. That his life of meek contentment was no way to live, and that there was no point to draw a breath if one did not mean to fill the day with some amount of pleasure.
Such were her hedonistic views for as long as she could remember. Before she became employed with Taeros, or even before she became involved with the Ala Mhigan Resistance, her days were filled with pursuit of wine, men, and beautiful things, and not always in that order. It was always easier not to have a purpose, drifting about without care.
But now, the only thing that occupied her days were thoughts on how to stay ahead of everyone else in this rat-infested backstabbing city that was Ul'dah. Brynn glanced back at the Mandercrown estate behind her, and reflected on the night’s events.
She had used Verad Bellveil’s standing invitation to Shaelen for a card game, to draw the Highlander smuggler out of hiding. Brynn had to know if her old friend from her days in the Resistance had used their past acquaintance to plant Gideon North as an employee under Jameson Taeros. The bard thought nothing of the favor she did for Shaelen at first, the smuggler had brought the valet to her stating that he was an old friend in need of a job. Since Brynn had just become employed with one of the wealthier noble in Ul’dah, she was in a generous mood and offered to find him a job as well.
Since then questions had risen. Gharen Wolfsong, another old acquaintance from her days with the Resistance, approached asking both her and Gideon specifically, about turning on their employer. He had mentioned that both her and Gideon’s names were given to him as possible weak links within Taeros’ chain of command.
This she did not like.
At first she thought it was Crofte. The Sultansworn had gotten herself into what she can only imagine as a temporary dalliance with her employer, but still had the strange compunction to try and stay honorable in all things. She even had the gall to insinuate that Brynn was likely better off finding a new line of employment. A part of her wondered if the Sworn herself was working in secret against Taeros, except there were also hints, looks that Brynn would pick up or certain things that Crofte would inadvertently say, that made her suspect that the Sworn was actually developing genuine feelings for the Monetarist noble.
Crofte also had admitted to Brynn that she did direct Wolfsong to the bard, but not North. So then whom? After the Moraby Drydock warehouse raid, Brynnalia discovered that Shaelen had been involved with the owner of the warehouse, Sebastian Redgrave--a name that was suspected as one of Lazarov’s alias. Brynn then began to wonder if there were ulterior motives for bringing North to her to be employed under Taeros.
So she orchestrated the card game to lure both Shaelen and North under the same roof, then brought in a couple of mercenaries that held hard grudges against the Highlander smuggler to pressure her for the truth. Brynn should have known better though. The woman was full of anger and pride, and threatening her only made her dig her heels in deeper. Even with her ear being half blown off by her own gunblade, Shael refused to say anything about Gideon.
But it was the valet himself that told her the truth. Gone were his mild manners, his subservient demeanor. After everyone had departed, he stepped right up to her face, no longer observing any courtesy.
“I hate Nero Lazarov, Brynnalia.†His voice was a low hiss. “I despise him. I hate him far more than Jameson Taeros does. My desire to see him dead outweighs my desire for myself to live. His destruction will be the day I am no longer necessary as a living being. He is responsible for taking everything from me. Because of him, I am a ghost. It is true that I may have ulterior motives in serving Taeros. But don't you fucking dare imagine...that they are anyone's but my own.â€
Brynn had been stunned to silence at his admission. But now she no longer doubted that the valet was working for the pirate. So the goal of the night was achieved after all. She ensured that the butler she had brought to her employer was no spy for Lazarov. So what if she duped Crofte into coming without weapons to have a Sworn presence there? Or lured Shaelen into what seemed like a harmless card game only to ambush her? And the flirtations and the teasings exchanged with Gideon that led him to accept her invitation as well, it was all an act right? It was not as if she was starting to relax or trust the man. So why the bad taste in her mouth now that her plans had come to fruition and she had secured the safety of her own employment?
The bard snorted to herself, dismissing the doubts as a she did the annoying snowflakes. It was then that a moogle flew up to her and handed her a letter. Recognizing the penmanship, she opened it eagerly.
Miss Callae,
I’ve come across proof of the Redgrave/Lazarov link. I require those trade routes to find out what Lazarov is using them for.
-Gharen Wolfsong
Brynnalia curled a slow but wide grin. Not only did she confirm one of Lazarov’s aliases, but she also had managed to turn someone who would have undoubtedly caused trouble for her employer into an ally instead. She knew telling Wolfsong about the possible link between Redgrave and the Yoyorano massacre would turn him against the pirate. She even argued that putting him away would be the best thing for his sister’s well-being and safety.
The bard knew she was using Wolfsong’s compassion as well as his concern for his sister to twist his motivations to suit her own, but in the end, it would be the best thing. For Wolfsong to oppose Taeros and the Monetarists, it would not bode well for him. And this way, he had a chance to save his sister from uncertain misfortune as well. All in all, she knew she should be proud of herself at this turn of events.
Brynn lifted her chin and sauntered toward the gates of the Goblet. She found herself suddenly eager to find a beautiful man and a bottle of fine wine to celebrate her recent successes. She no longer even noticed the snow that were turning to a pitiful droplets on the stones.
