Back to Imanitos Mendax
Imanitos recieves a message, hand delivered to the Covenant.
Annabelle de Clevault
While Imanitos is sitting in his lab in Summer sneaking a look at forbidden books, a small toad with the wings of a bat and a scorpion's tail (an astasian) appears in front of him, in mid air. It speaks with Annabelles voice.
"Prepare yourself for the coming of the Master. He has spoken to me in Dreams, and he is close. The Prince will come in Purple and have his vengeance on the Land that should be his. It is imperative that you contrive to get as many of the Senior Magi from Malinbois to the forest of Shadrishel (Where the Covenant of Lariander used to be). I believe that they are searching for things. Let this be your tool. Do well and the Master will reward you. Do badly and he will devour you."
Imanitos goes to Perpignan to find someone to scribe a message for him (he doesn't want his handwriting to be recognised). When he gets there he dons a large black cowled robe that hides much of his face, and also attempts a bit of spontaneous low-level MuIm magic to slightly change his facial appearance (eg. false moustache) and voice. He then tries to find a monk or a merchant or someone who can scribe Latin, and offers a small payment in exchange for writing a short message (pretending that he's unable to read himself). Taking the message, he finds someone suitable (like a market boy or something) and offers a generous payment in exchange for delivering the message to Malinbois in a few days time (giving Imanitos enough time to return first). Hopefully these precautions will ensure that the message cannot be traced back to him.
The parchment is sealed and labelled:
"For the private attention of the Chairman of the Council of Malinbois".
It reads:
It has come to my attention that you are in pursuit of certain artefacts in relation to this `secret', and I believe that I may be able to help you in your quest. I suggest that you direct your search towards the forest of Shadrishel, upon the old site of the Covenant of Lariander, and I think you will be in luck. For reasons I cannot divulge I am unable to tell you more than this. However I can inform you that this search is extremely dangerous and that it will require all of your efforts jointly. It is therefore vital that as many of your number as possible participate, but none of the junior-ranking Magi should come - if successful, the very nature of what you will discover would fully betray your intent. I urge you not to waste any time.
Why am I offering you such aid? Let me just say that is in my interest to see that certain power falls into the right hands. For reasons that will become clear, I regret that is impossible for me at this time to reveal either my identity or the source of my knowledge.
Your friend,
M."
(NB: `M' denotes Mendax, quite appropriate I think!)
I think it's time for another anonymous message to turn up at the covenant! Imanitos goes to Perpignan again to arrange it. Same plan, different messenger. BTW, Imanitos probably didn't bother showing up to give the peasant boy the 2nd gold coin on the previous occasion!
It's a sealed scroll, labelled:
"To Salamandrus, follower of Tremere, at the Covenant of Malinbois"
It reads:
Three options are before you. You are being watched closely, and I recommend that you choose wisely. Desist from your study, and the malevolent Spirits that haunt you may turn their attention elsewhere for a while. Or if you are of a mind, you could turn your studies to a more productive use, because you must know that true power over the Infernal comes from control, not perdition. You do, after all, have potential. But should you not turn aside from your course, you will surely be consumed. The greeting received by your associates at Shadrishel will be as nothing compared to the Private Hell that awaits you.
M."
Upon arriving at the massive fortress of Doissetep, Imanitos announces his intentions to see Pontifex Vorien to the enormous Gateward, a brute of a fellow who is certainly kin to the Race of Cain. After waiting at the front porch like a commoner for over an hour while a servant runs the message to his pater, the gates finally open to admit the young magus. Imanitos is guided through a confusing mass of tunnels and courtyards, ascending and descending worn stairways many times until a massive ravine is reached, crossed by seven bridges. Here his previous guard/guide abandons him, and the magus is taken into the Pontificial quarters by three purple-robed men, probably some of the famous Priests of Mercury that reside here at Doissetep.
Eventually, Imanitos reaches the foot of Vorien's tower. During the entire journey through the fortress, which took the best part of an hour, he did not see a single soul other than his guides. Imanitos's pull on the bell to Vorien's quarters is answered by a young man wearing black and red - the master's colours. He leads the way upstairs where the pontifex is waiting. Vorien hasn't changed much in the intervening years. He is surrounded in more opulence than before - he now wears silk and velvet instead of wool and linen, and many rings glitter on his fingers.
"So, you finally came to see your master. It took long enough. Come in, Imanitos, do take a seat. Allandro - wine for our guest."
As the young man scuttles off to fulfil his masters wishes, Vorien leans over to Imanitos and whispers:
"What do you think of my new apprentice? Does he remind you of anyone?" He chuckles - the same cruel laugh that makes your skin crawl. "You're probably wondering why I came down to Doissetep. Well, the answer is that I was asked! The Concilium Maximus was seeking to swell its membership, and I appeared to be the sort of ruthless person they were after. If you ask me, other Powers are insuring that I prosper. What I need to find out is whose ear is turned towards the Left-Hand Path. No matter - there is much work that I can do here."
"I miss the days of your apprenticeship, boy. If ever things get rough at Malinbois, rest assured that there is a place for you here. I am not the only one here who draws from the Ash Empyrean. I have felt the eddies of Power as I walk through forbidden passages. I have smelt The Dark as I prowl the shelves of the Hidden Library - Oh yes, my boy, I have given myself access to that. The secrets of Doissetep lay at my fingertips. No mystery of this place will evade me once I have unciphered certain books - but ciphers and secrets are my strong point, are they not?"
Imanitos remembers the days of his apprenticeship, when he struggled to outwit Vorien and keep something from him. It could never be done. He would always discover the young man in flagrante, or in the process of hiding stolen vis. He would crack the most fiendish ciphers that Imanitos invented for his journal, he would see through lies that were told him without breaking a sweat. It became a game (albeit a dangerous one, for his punishments were harsh) to try to outwit him, and keep something - anything - from him. Imanitos never succeeded.
The reverie is broken when the pontifex speaks.
"So, why are you here, Imanitos Mendax, Magus of Malinbois? Do you wish to resume our little game? Could it have something to do with Annabelle de Clevault perhaps? You see - even now nothing is hidden."
I wrote:
Imanitos' brows narrow at the last. After a thoughtful pause, he replies. "It seems that, even now, you still know all my secrets." A brief, wry, smile crosses his face. "I should have expected that, I suppose." His expression becomes more serious and he leans forward intently. "I have many questions for you, my Master. Doubtless you will not answer them all - for that would spoil the game, would it not? In truth, I have missed it as much as you."
"But let me first tell you why I am here. I would perhaps have come sooner, but I have been busy with... other matters. But now I find myself with ample time to catch up on old acquaintances. Due to an unfortunate mishap at Malinbois, my work has been temporarily curtailed."
"The reason for my visit is by way of a proposition, an exchange of... mutual benefit. Since last we met I have chanced upon certain valuable resources, and I speak not only of the Hidden Library at Malinbois."
At this point Imanitos reaches down to the small black wooden case by his side, and places it on the table. He opens it carefully to reveal a series of stoppered phials, neatly packed in the velveted interior. In the phials is an inky black resinous material. Leaving the case in its opened state, he continues.
"But we will perhaps discuss this later. Tell me, my Master, for my curiousity is afire - what do you know of Annabelle?"
Mark wrote:
"Of Annabelle I know much, but am not willing to divulge, you will have to unravel this mystery yourself." He pauses, pensively. "However, it would do no harm to tell you of her past. From what I have discovered, she was married to one of Clarissa de Julliac's grandsons, who lived outside the clutch of the matriarch. Upon her husband's death (of unknown cause), Annabelle returned to Julliac to take up resisence there. She gained access to the Hivemind by right of Marriage," Vorien halts his colliquy at Imanitos's grunt of suprise "I would have thought that you would at least of uncovered the group mind that Julliac hides, my boy. Your faculties have lapsed since I saw you last. Anyhow, Annabelle proceeded to attempt to wrest control of the Mind from Clarissa. My informants tell me that the battle was hard - despite Clarissa's skill, her opponents mind was strong. The Community was divided between the battling women, until finally Annabelle was shut out of the Mind forever. It was at this point that she met with the magi that founded Malinbois, who promised her apprenticeship, and she left the viilage. Malinbois failed its promise though, and Annabelle became bitter. Finally it is said that she summoned a Master for herself, and left Malinbois with him. It is not known when the Sorceress saw the Dark for the first time, but I believe that it was before her marriage, which was an artifice to gain access to the Mind. A village of Beseechers with not a few with potential for the Goetic Arts? The mind boggles at what she could have accomplished if she had suceeded." Vorien sits back in his spacious padded chair and gives Imanitos a thoughtful look over his goblet as he quenches his thirst. "The woman is a marvel, in more than just her schemes. Have you bedded her yet?" Another look is sent Imanitos's way "I thought not". The Magus smiles "Then there is still some carnal delights in which I am your master."
The Pontifex stands suddenly and strides over to the window. He stares out over the harsh terrain of the Pyrenees, still covered with snow despite it being the height of Summer. "Enough of this. The Concilium convenes in an hour. You know the rules - tell me something now." Imanitos knows from his apprenticeship that he'd better provide some information for his master that is at least as useful as that which has just been given. Whether Vorien would still punish Imanitos after all these years is questionable, but a risk that he would probably be not prepared to make.
I wrote:
Imanitos leans back and thoughtfully fingers his lip with his right hand - a nervous habit resurfacing from his apprenticeship. With his other hand, he absently shuts the case on the table.
"Your story is of interest, my Master. Due to a scheme of Annabelle's devising, a number of the consors at Malinbois recently perished in the Forest of Shadrishel." He smiles modestly. "A scheme in which I played but a small part. I cannot discern her aims, but at least now I understand her resentment of our Covenant."
Imanitos closes his eyes as he pauses. "I will talk of Malinbois for a while, and I hope that my words will please you." He reawakes and sits up straight again. "Of the Senior Magi, Marcus Rabinus of House Jerbiton and Malevolous Serini of House Tremere are most of interest. I'm sure that you've heard of the Archmage Peregrine Demonsbane - well, this man Marcus was his long-time amicus. A quite likeable fellow, if the truth be told, but he still seems to retain some links with Peregrine's order, the Apotropaics. Especially with a certain Brother Mouliard, who is currently investigating us. A most dangerous man, if I am not mistaken." Imanitos raises one eyebrow. "As I understand it, his visit was in fact precipitated by Annabelle's little scheme, and his presence is one of the reasons that I am here now. Fortunately, though, Mouliard seems to have fixed his attention on another of our number - I will talk of him later." Imanitos takes a sip of wine and swills it around his mouth for a moment. "As for Serina, I'm sure that your associate, her sigil-holder, Yuelgoet can fill you in. Have you perchance bedded her yet?" He smiles as the faintest hint of sarcasm enters his voice. "Then, my Master, then I would be impressed."
"Let me tell you of the Hidden Library at Malinbois. It may interest you to discover, for instance, that the tainted knowledge of the former Magus Damon le Mont of the Covenant of Ad Vis Peveritas now resides with us. It was from his collection of tomes that I studied in preparation for my first Summoning." Imanitos then proceeds to describe the Hidden Library in more detail. "I'm sure, however, that this collection is no match for the library here about which you speak." His voice trails off thoughtfully. "Now that must be a collection without peer in the whole Order..."
He finishes his wine. "There is one other Magus at Malinbois who I will speak of. This man is Salamandrus of Tremere, he that is being investigated most closely by Mouliard. A most reclusive man, he is repugnant in his appearance and one can sense the taint on his person. Upon my arrival seven years ago, I had thought that perhaps he was one of us, but I was mistaken. It seems he has decided to take after dead Peregrine, and has dedicated his life to the destruction of the minions of the Infernus. This man is already dangerously proficient in his art, and I have taken it upon myself to see that his plans are thwarted. Of all the Magi, he presents the most threat. I regret that my plans are as yet still in their infancy."
"I have yet to uncover many of the secrets that the senior Magi are keeping. I still find it difficult to believe that none of the others know of the hidden tomes. I had perhaps thought that Serina was responsible. After all, she is the Librarius, and she acts the part. But as you and I both know, my Master, appearances do not count for much." He muses. "There is also the peculiar Fionn mac Mathgen - I have often wondered about him. If you do not know, it is an open secret within our walls that his heritage is of House Diedne." Imanitos' eyes narrow as something occurs. "There is one big secret which the senior Magi seem to be keeping though, a secret about which they seem to be gathering many artifacts. Tell me, what do you know of the Rite of Isolation?"
Mark wrote:
Vorien looks up sharply. Finally, after all these years, Imanitos feels a swell of satisfaction - he has been able to suprise his master at last. Vorien speaks in a low voice, hoarse with concern (although undoubtedly not for Imanitos!)
"Keep away from that, boy! Whatever your Senior Council is up to, it threatens your cover. Hinder the plan if possible - when the time seems ripe, and the Magi work with urgency, steal one of the artifacts they have collected, or better yet, destroy it. I'm warning you - this could jeopardize all that we work for if those meddlesome magi bring that sort of plan to fruition"
The master seems agitated now, pacing nervously and fiddling with his rings. In this mood he is likely to do something rash, but before Imanitos has a chance to diffuse the situation, Vorien abruptly changes the subject.
"I am willing to offer you the tuition you desire. You may use the books of my lesser grimoire for the fee of.... ". The Magus breaks off as his apprentice enters, deferently. "Yes, what is it?" he snaps testily. The young boy swallows hard before answering meekily "Great Lord, you should robe now. The Concilium is soon". Vorien nods tersely. "Fetch my vestments then. Imanitos can robe me while you make up chambers for him - He will be staying here for a few months." The boy scuttles off, returning a few minutes later dragging a chest. The pontifex dismisses him with a wave of the hand. In the chest is a robe of blood red silk that shimmers in the firelight, woven as it is with golden thread. In addition there is a sleeveless mantle of deep black velvet, decorated with flame designs burning from the hem, made up of ruby, jacinth and topaz.
"As I was saying," he continues as Imanitos helps him into these elaborate vestments "the fee for studying from my lesser grimoire will be 3 pawns of...vis. Personal tuition can be bought for a rook of the same. In addition, for each season you spend with me, You will owe me a season. What say you?"
I wrote:
Imanitos nods slowly, still unnerved by Vorien's previous display of agitation. "Your offer is most generous, my Master. If it meets with your approval, I will study from your tome for this season. At a later date I may be interested in the... tuition. Perhaps upon a time when we are both not busy with other matters." He carefully smoothes down the mantle as the robing is completed. "I will discuss it with you upon your return from the Concilium."
Mark wrote:
"Very good. Well, make yourself at home. Allandro is at your disposal. He is well trained...whatever your needs." Vorien strides over to the door, where he collects his ornate ebony staff, carved with his sigil, and his parens' sigil, and so on back to Jerbiton. He turns with a flourish, setting the robes swirling and whispering as he does so. "Until later then." The pontifex leaves, and Imanitos breathes a sigh of relief - the verbal fencing with his master always left him mentally drained, and he was nearly a decade out of practice.
Left alone in the pontificial quarters, Imanitos crosses to the arched window to admire the view. Vorien has certainly done well for himself since leaving the Rhine Tribunal. The window overlooks the chasm that divides Council members from all lower forms of life in Doissetep. The Sin of Pride is certainly rampant among the upper echelons of this covenant's organization.
The riches in this chamber alone would feed a peasant family for a decade. Expensive Egyptian weavings cover the bare stone walls, and a thick pelt of some huge black beast is spread on the floor. Silver candelabra sit on carved oak stands, filled with fine wax candles of purest white. Curios from far off places are nestled in small niches cut into the walls. Lost in his appraisal of the chamber, Imanitos fails to notice the entrance of Allandro until he coughs politely.
"Please, Noble Sir. May I escort you to your chambers?". Nodding his assent, Imanitos crosses the room to climb the spiral staircase to the next floor. The apprentice shows Imanitos into a guest chamber of grandiose proportions, with a huge down-stuffed bed, an oaken desk and a roaring fire in the hearth. Allandro timidly explains that the next level of the tower houses the Masters chambers and his own, and the floors above that are the Master's Sanctum. One can continue up the stairs past the Sanctum to the Mundane library, but one needs to cross the sanctum to the side tower that houses Voriens Study.
In his usual indomitable way, Imanitos manages to put the boy at ease in his company, and he soon loses his fear of the new magus. It seems that the boy was the male child of a witch in Bordeaux, and was to be exposed on the hillside a few days after his birth due to his uselessness to his mother. Vorien came across the situation and bought the child from the witch, later returning to slay her for her insolence to presume to bargain with a magus of Hermes. Allandro was raised by Vorien, and so is justifiably frightened of his adoptive father. He has been taught magic in the last 3 years, and has been promised to be taught further power from other teachers as he gets older. Strangely (to the boy), the more eager his thirst for knowledge increases, the more Vorien spares the rod. After relating his tale, Allandro fetches wine and food for Imanitos.
After his meal, the magus sits back pensively in the overstuffed chair in Vorien's meeting room, shrouded by the deepening shadows, to wait for the return of his Master, and the beginning of his delving into the Forbidden Lore of Doissetep.
You've probably guessed, but just to confirm - unfortunately there seems to be a slight "flaw" in the magic trapdoor which Imanitos has recently made. It seems that Imanitos is able to open the door by himself without the use of the keys! Oh well, these mistakes happen, I suppose. When working out the Lab Total, I added in +3 for restricted use. This should make it fairly easy to smuggle out the Goetic books in future...
At the end of the Council Meeting where the news of the party sent to Val-Negra was presented, Imanitos returns to his chambers to prepare a secret message for his master. Usual instructions with the astasian: deliver the message to Vorien in his chambers when he is alone and then return. The message is:
"Imanitos sends his greetings to his master, and brings news which he believes may be of interest. In connection with their secret quest, the Senior Council of Malinbois have been attempting to obtain a certain artifact - a small black figurine known as the Furtive Servant of Hades. At the Covenant of Val Negra, a party recently arranged the purchase of this item - although it was owned by Val Negra, it was not present there. The Council believe that it is in the possession of the Arch-Mage Abaddon at Doissetep, and will shortly be sending a Redcap by the name of Laurent to procure it. You may wish to take steps to see that he does not meet with success."
When Laurent returns from one of his trips he has a scroll for Imanitos. It had arrived at Harco from one of the covenants in the Levant Tribunal.
Imanitos Mendax, filius Vorien, scholae Jerbitonis
I know of your dark secrets, your conspiracy with your master. If you do not want others to find it out I suggest you come to Adge at the first light of the full moon in the month of July. Come alone and bring as much money as you can get your hands on. You are being watched.
It is early winter by the time Imanitos reaches Mount Celadar, and the snows have come early. The travel has not been easy, and he has had to resort to common larceny (well, not so common, actually) to feed both him and his horse. Although he has been largely distracted by the burning shame that occupies his mind, and thoughts of hate towards the perpetrator of the deeds, he has noticed (and become concerned) that the last few days of travel he has been followed and observed quite closely by a raven.
The village of Eyrie nestles in the foothills of the mountain, but Imanitos bypasses it entirely, continuing straight for the covenant, pushing himself to reach there as soon as possible. Winter in the Pyrenees is not at all pleasant, and whatever else awaits him at Doissetep, at least he can be assured a warm bath and a soft bed. He pauses briefly at Fabym's Rest, that lone, idyllic spot half way up the mountain, but aware of its evil reputation, he does not linger, resting only enough to catch his breath. While resting, he notices that his watcher is still with him.
The door to the mighty fortress is reached a couple of hours after sunset. Guarding the door is the massive Gorodin, who refuses Imanitos entrance. "No-one allowed in at night" he rumbles. "Must wait til morning". With the bitterly cold wind on this exposed mountain-top, and the aching emptiness in his belly, Imanitos finds himself considering whether he is up to forcing this giant man to let him in, an act most inadvisable for a potential guest at the covenant. However, the decision remains unmade, for as he ponders, there is the sound of rushing wings, and the raven descends onto a parapet, level with Gorodin's head. It is a large bird, with blood coloured secondary flight feathers, and startlingly blue eyes. It takes a long look at Imanitos, and he can see the murder in its eyes. It then swings its head to fix Gorodin with the same glare.
"Pontifex Vorien Tectus commands that you let this magus within the Covenant without delay." The raven's voice is smooth and cultured, but with a hard edge - not what was expected at all. "You will then report to the Heron Court to recieve punishment for your inhospitality."
The giant looks startled, then without delay opens up the salley door to allow Imanitos to enter. The raven flaps down after him, and flies into the courtyard beyond, perching on the head of the statue of Mercury at the centre of the fountain.
"Vorien knows you are coming. He has arranged for the baths to be heated, for a meal to be prepared, and for a change of clothes to be provided before you enter his presence." The sneer in the raven's voice is unmistakable. At that point a servant enters the courtyard. He is liveried in black and red, and bears a gold crown insignia on his left breast, surmounting the sigil of Imanitos' master.
"This servant will bring you before the pontifex when you are ready." The raven then flaps off down a corridor.
The Roman style baths are refreshing in the extreme, and the meal prepared is sumptuous. Feeling refreshed, and pleased to be out of his travel-stained clothing, Imanitos smoothes down the front of the rich blue silk shirt before putting on the darker doublet and almost black cloak. He is then guided through the maze-like corridors of Doissetep to the Abyss that divides the pontificial quarters from the rest of the covenant. At the third of the seven bridges that cross the chasm there is waiting a second servant, who guides the magus across the bridge and onwards to Vorien's Tower.
I wrote:
The servant departs in silence, leaving Imanitos alone and shivering in the night. The bulk of Vorien's tower looms up out of the blackness ahead of him. He approaches and places his hand on the bell-pull, pausing before ringing as the nervous magus takes a deep breath and composes himself. It is not necessary to ring, however, as the door is opened at that instant to reveal the figure of Vorien's apprentice, Allandro. To Imanitos' keen eye he seems noticably older and taller. Imanitos nods his head towards the boy. "He is expecting you. You had better come up." Imanitos quickly follows him upstairs.
The master is waiting in his opulent quarters as Imanitos is shown in. The boy moves over to the table, pours two glasses of wine and hands one to his master. Vorien leans back in his voluminous chair. "So, we meet again, Imanitos Mendax. What can I do for you this time? It is hardly the time of year for light travel and social calls." Imanitos recognises the hard edge in his master's voice. He takes a seat and a sip of wine before replying.
"It is good to see you again, my master. You are looking well." He pauses, but Vorien ignores this remark with disdain. "I would not have come at this time were it not a matter of some urgency. Due to a recent misadventure, I find that I need to study from your tome as soon as possible." He motions to the rather battered-looking mahogony case by his feet. "Of course I have brought the usual payment."
Noticing the intent expression on his master's face, Imanitos continues hurriedly. "Let me elaborate the situation somewhat. I suspect that I am being spied upon, and someone is trying to blackmail me. Someone claims to know of a `dark conspiracy' between you and I, and is seeking to profit from it." Imanitos notices Vorien's nostrils flaring dangerously. "Calm yourself, master! There is no immediate danger. I am to present payment to this... person - if that is what he is - in some season's time." He averts his gaze from the pontifex and takes a gulp of his wine. "This blackmailer communicates with me by using anonymous messages. One of the messages bore an `A', and one other seemed to originate in the Tribunal of the Levant. He - or she - claims to be spying upon me. Through the use of a certain spell I have been unable to detect this, so I guess that he is either lying or extremely subtle."
Imanitos pauses again, but Vorien only stares intently at him. He continues. "Our mystery conspirator has already demonstrated his aptitude with the manipulation of mundanes. Suffice it to say that I have been... humiliated, and I will stand for it no longer!" The master notices an uncharacteristic note of anger in his voice. "Since my spell will not tell me who is spying on me, I propose to use a more efficacious means, and that is why I am here. And of course I also wished to alert you to a potential threat, although I do not gauge the danger to be great yet. What say you, my master? If I can find out who is resonsible for this, then I can take steps to see that this threat is eliminated." Imanitos leans back in his chair, eying the pontifex nervously.
Mark wrote:
"It is right that you have warned me, Mendax. If your actions have endangered me or my plans, my Master will be... displeased." Guessing all too well who Vorien's `Master' might be, Imanitos is not ashamed to find himself shivering at the implied threat. He loosens the laces at his collar with a clammy hand.
"However, I believe that you will be able to sort this out... won't you?" Vorien's voice raises suddenly in volume, and Imanitos jumps, feeling once more like a first year apprentice.
"Perhaps if you tell be a little more about this enemy of yours, I might be able to offer some advice. A lot can be done with only a little magic." He pauses to gesture to his apprentice, who leaves the room. Vorien leans forward "And while you are in a talkative mood, perhaps you should tell me what else you have been up to. What does your Court of Thralls number now, Imanitos? I always imagined you with a succubus or two sub stragulum." He laughs, an unpleasant sound in the otherwise still air.
Imanitos notices at this time that his master's hands and lower arms, protruding from his expensive robe, are stained a ruddy colour. Vorien sees the direction of his pupil's glance, and smoothly withdraws his hands into the volumous sleeves of the robe. The glittering of the embroidered flames sewn with rubies and topaz reminds the younger magus of his last few years of apprenticeship, sewing all those gemstones meticulously into carefully ordained patterns, each one dipped into a crucible containing Vim vis before carefully positioning it and sewing it in place with precise stitches. Vorien stood over him while he grumbled about having to do woman's work, pointing out mistakes and making him undo stitches. The robe became Vorien's Talisman, and was imbued with many enchantments of concealment and protection. The robe looked dark and somehow malicious in the flickering firelight. Imanitos hated that robe - nearly as much as he hated the man wearing it.
I wrote:
Imanitos breathes a little more easily now, the half-expected explosion of anger from his master seemingly avoided. But, he thinks to himself, that is the master's way, is it not? "What else have I been upto? Yes, it is a number of years since you saw me last, although it does not seem nearly so long. Well, I have been busy, certainly, but I regret that my goetic study has been lacking in the light of... other considerations." Imanitos pauses, but gets the impression that the pontifex wants him to continue. "For one thing, I have had to make myself a longevity potion, and I needed to spend several seasons studying Intellego and Corpus in preparation. Also, I spent a number of seasons inventing a black spell of my own devising. Through the influence of minor eidolons, it will cause a mundane to become overcome with wrath for a specific person, and the mundane will attempt to slay them. It still awaits a field test, though, but I have the perfect person in mind." He smiles. "Salamandrus of Tremere, that foul masked one hell-bent on destroying demons. He is the librarius at Malinbois now, and it won't be long before he identifies the hidden knowledge." Imanitos shrugs. "He may already be dead, however. Last I heard, he was trapped inside a faerie realm. In any case, he seems to be supporting me in Council nowadays, so I am tempted to try it on one of the others."
Imanitos refills his glass from the decanter. "You can see that with things afoot at Malinbois, and this person trying to blackmail me, I certainly have my hands full. However, my master, you are right that it is high time that I enlarged my Court, and I intend to see to that without delay." Imanitos' brows narrow momentarily. "While I speak of Malinbois, let me briefly inform you of the secret plan of the Senior Council. You will remember that I sent you a message regarding an item to be found here at Doissetep. Our Redcap was despatched and he duly returned with the Furtive Serpent of Hades. Other than that, I have no further news. Except that the Senior Council is now only three, on account of the deaths of Malevola Serini and Callidus Faberis. It had seemed to me that Serina was co-ordinating the plan."
"You asked for more information about my enemy. I regret that I have precious little. I have been most cautious with my... experiments - as you trained me to be, master - so I know of no-one who could possibly have uncovered my secrets." He pauses. "Well, that is not exactly true. There is one, but it cannot possibly be him." Vorien's eyebrow raises. "Let me explain. Some years ago I was in charge of an expedition from Malinbois, and we chanced upon the sanctum of one Aquilinius of Tremere. It was an underwater cave, far off in the Mediterranean. I daresay you have heard of him, master, the foremost Aquam magus in the Order. Seemingly he had lived in isolation for many decades. It also seems that he was a master of the art of Mentem also, for as we entered his domain he sifted through all of our minds with apparent ease. I tried to shield my mind, but he was too powerful, and I suspect that he may have divined my secrets. However I later fought him in certamen - I must admit that I was soundly beaten, but his Final Strike sent him into Final Twilight. Indeed, we harvested raw vis from the magical water that he had become! Thus I thought no more of it, I only mention it now because one of the messages bore an archaic `A'. But I cannot see how it can possibly be him - there must be some other explanation. As for the spying, I have been repeatedly casting an Invisible Eye Revealed of the Fifth Magnitude, but it reveals nothing. However a demon of spying and secrets, such as Hesst, will surely be able to tell me what I want to know; the identity of the conspirator." Imanitos leans back. "Is there anything else you wish to know, my master?"
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Vorien smiles coldly, eyes glittering in the firelight. "Ah, Hesst. I'm afraid he will not be available for you to summon." He reaches into an ornately carved ebony box that rests on a table by his right elbow. From within he withdraws a cabochon-cut diamond of startling clarity, set within an intricate silver mounting. The gemstone catches the light and shatters it, scattering blue-white shards of light on the dark walls of the room. "Hesst, attend me" The words are uttered in the guttural tones of Black Speech, each hideous syllable carefully enunciated in a low growling voice. Vorien was scary enough to Imanitos, but Vorien speaking the Devil's own tongue... Imanitos finds himself shivering.
Imanitos abruptly feels a crawling sensation, like hundreds of insects all over his body. Reality warps to accomodate the appearance of a third figure in the room. A stunted man no larger than a child, but bulky. The figure is malformed, with a hunchback and one arm longer than the other. It is also hideous, with one eye swollen and pustulous, the other sunken in and weeping green fluid. Its face is covered with the seams of half-healed scars, and its huge grinning mouth splits his face almost in half.
"I bound Hesst to my Court, last spring. Hesst, I would like to introduce you to Imanitos Mendax, a pupil of mine. He is acting as a messenger between me and his Liege, someone who I hope to have many dealings with. Once I have entered negotiations, I would be happy to release Hesst so that he can join your Court."
Vorien stands, and turns to the grinning demon and speaks once again in the Black Speech. "Travel directly to your Duke without any sidetrips at the fastest speed that you are capable of. Relay this message clearly and precisely, without any additions or omissions. Tell his Fell Grace that Vorien Tectus is ready to proceed with the Plan of Removal. Due to the arrival of his former apprentice, the plan will commence 14 seasons earlier than originally designed. With this message delivered, wait for any response that the Duke gives and remember it precisely, then return directly to me at the fastest speed that you are capable of, taking no sidetrips on the return journey, and notify me of your return. Do not attempt to deceive me or misinterpret these orders or you will feel my lash on your back. For this service I will reduce your indenture by 8 points. Go, and carry out your orders immediately."
By the time that the last consonant of that terrible message has finished its resonance around the chamber, the figure of Hesst has gone. Vorien turns around and reseats himself, and Imanitos notices with surprise that Vorien's brow is beaded with sweat, perhaps the first sign of physical weakness that he has ever seen in his Master. The magus removes a simple hankerchief from his robe sleeve, and mops himself dry, then drains his goblet in a single draught.
The two sit in silence for a few minutes. By the time the pontifex speaks again, he is composed once more. "There are other demons who may fulfil the function that you had planned for Hesst. As you know, my penchant is for revealing hidden things, and ferreting out secrets - I'm sure that you can find one of interest amongst my tomes. If you serve me well this season, I may well let you question Dantelion, another of my Thralls. He is the Revealer of Secrets, and will know what you want to know." At the mention of service, Imanitos glances quizically at Vorien. "Yes, that is right, You will be performing me a little task this season." Imanitos is dismayed at the pontifex's tone, that the fact that Imanitos will do this service is a foregone conclusion. "I have a trip to make, a jaunt that will occupy most of the season. You will accompany me. We will set off on the first day of spring, so you have what remains of this season to peruse my tomes. Learning during the journey will be by no means impossible, particularly if you can obtain yourself a tutor during the winter that you can Bind in a Pact of Teaching. I will assist you in this - your education is sorely lacking, from what you say, and I have plans for you that you will fail in if you are not sufficiently capable. THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN!" Again, Vorien manages to startle Imanitos with a sudden change in tone. "I do not tolerate failure, and the failure will be mine if you are not properly prepared."
He reaches for a bell rope, and within seconds, Allandro appears at the doorway. The young man has lost his hesistant air that Imanitos noticed last time they met, and is flushed. No doubt listening at the door, thinks Imanitos to himself, knowing that he did in the same situation during HIS apprenticeship.
"The hour is late. We will commence this in the morning."
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Imanitos stands up, his mind still racing with what has been revealed. "Very well, my master. My curiosity is unsated, but my questions can wait. Until tomorrow, then." Allandro leads him upstairs to the guest quarters. Imanitos gratefully sinks into the large and comfortable bed, wearied both from his journey and the gruelling interrogation of his master. However Imanitos lies there restlessly for several hours before finally succumbing to sleep. The disturbing image of Hesst plagues his thoughts, and worry about his master's plans for him gnaw away at his mind.
It is several hours past dawn when Imanitos is roused by the knock of Allandro at the door, bearing fresh clothing and a bowl of water. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Imanitos draws open the curtains and the morning light floods in. He is momentarily dazzled by the splash of sunlight across the not-so-distant snowfields, before his eyes adjust and allow him to take in the magnificent view. He spends a minute or two in contemplation at the window before washing and dressing briskly.
Heading downstairs, he finds his master in the dining chamber adjacent to the meeting room. The same servant he saw yesterday is busy arranging a steaming plate of roasted meats on the table. Vorien is busy devouring his carnivorous breakfast and only glances up momentarily as Imanitos enters. Seating himself at the opposite end of the table, Imanitos helps himself to some of the generous breakfast. The servant finishes his tasks and bows to Vorien before leaving. The two eat for several minutes in silence. Eventually, Vorien pushes his plate away after having finished picking at the delicate bones. Removing the smear of meat juices around his mouth with a satin kerchief, he leans back in his chair with his arms behind his back, and stares down the table at his pupil. The sunlight streams in through the window behind him, and Imanitos squints as he returns his stare. "Master, it seems that you have very important plans afoot. Perhaps if you are to tell me more I will be better prepared to assist you."
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"Ever the inquisitive one. You should know better than to ask me to reveal secrets to you, Mendax. I trust you slept well? No interesting dreams perhaps?" At that final word, Imanitos calmly reaches for the water jug and dumps the contents on the floor. His master looks on, expectantly, and then says, laconically "Why did you do that?" "Why the floor was dirty, Master, and I thought it needed a clean." Vorien stares hard at Imanitos. "Are you sure that is why you did it?" Imanitos seems confused "Well... yes, I think so." "Is it not strange that you suddenly took it upon youself to clean the floor, when we have servants to do that sort of thing? And that you should decide to do such a menial task in such an inefficient way?"
The Pontifex leans back in his chair, fingers arched, like he always used to when instructing his pupil. "You did something that is completely out of character for you, for absolutely no reason, and then when questioned, you explained it away confidently. At the moment that you did the task, you were perfectly satisfied that your action was appropriate, and straight afterwards you did not consider the action strange, and put it out of your head immediately. Tell me, what have you learned?"
Silently, to himself, Imanitos groans. This is the last thing he needs this early in the morning. Vorien was originally apprenticed to a Criamon, and never lost his love for riddles and this warped way of teaching. As the younger magus ponders what twisted meaning to read into this lesson, there is a noise at the window to the chamber. Vorien strides over to it and opens the lead light, letting in the raven standing on the sill. It hops onto the inside sill and then flaps over to the chair on which Vorien was sitting, perching itself on the high back. As far as Imanitos can tell, it is the same raven as yesterday - the same ice-blue eyes, the same blood red plumage in its wings. Vorien seems to pay the bird no attention, but remains on his feet, walking over to the fire and stands before it, warming his back. He looks at Imanitos expectantly.
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Imanitos' brows are furrowed in thought, but the faintest hint of a scowl plays across the corner of his mouth. During his apprenticeship he had always dreaded these obscure riddles and mind games which his master seemed to delight in. Vorien would often spend many minutes in silence while his student pondered the question, his dark eyes boring into those of the boy. Imanitos would feel a malign presence in his mind, and would be in a cold sweat as he found it increasingly hard to think. He did not have the natural flair for solving these convoluted puzzles that his master did, and he would rarely get the answer right. However he had long since learned that to offer up no answer was folly - on those occasions where he admitted defeat with a shrug, his master would punish him severely for his stupidity. After he had recovered he would be asked the question again. The young apprentice therefore often tried to give a different answer to the riddle, or to answer with a riddle of his own. Sometimes his master found amusement in his answers - but he would never reveal the correct answer.
Imanitos opens his mouth as if to say something, thinks better of it, and says something different instead. "I believe it is a lesson on the merits of witholding information. Had someone later questioned me as to why I emptied the jug, I would have offered up the explanation which my mind itself created; that I was cleaning the floor. There would be no deceit. If, however, you had asked me to clean the floor, giving your reasons, the situation would be different. Someone questioning me later might be able to discern your intent, and I would have to deceive them to conceal it. Or to put it another way, there is solace in ignorance." A slightly harder tone enters his voice. "However, my master, the solace is yours and the ignorance is mine."
He raises one finger to touch the his temple in thought as he pauses. "I would prefer a different interpretation to this puzzle." He gestures to the puddle of water on the expensive rug to his side. "The water on the floor is a mistake. This is not the way that cleaning should be done. This mistake came about because I was not of sound mind when it happened. Had you asked me to clean the floor, it would have been avoided. The lesson, then, is surely this: that disaster stems from ignorance, and that through wisdom comes surety."
He leans forward towards his master intently, although his voice is calm. The pontifex stares back at him, an indecipherable expression upon his face. "Master, do you wish me to serve you in your tasks as nothing but a mindless automaton?" Imanitos tries to summon a disarming smile to his visage, an effect that doesn't quite work. "I am a foolish boy no longer, and am capable of more than that." He places his hands flat on the table in a gesture of peace, worried of some retort from the older magus. "Master, you named me the Liar, and you know of my talents. Do you not have faith in my ability to keep knowledge hidden to myself?" Imanitos feels a bead of sweat roll down his back, and suddenly notices that the room seems to be very warm.
Mark wrote:
Vorien appraises the magus opposite him with a cool look.
"You are indeed a boy no longer. The boy that I apprenticed would never have dared to answer me back like you just have, or demand to be treated with trust. Your predecessor did that."
Imanitos knows little of the boy that Vorien apprenticed before him. The rumours in the corridors of Holzenberg was that he was killed in a fit of rage by Vorien after an impertinent response. The truth of these rumours he was never able to ascertain (it seemed unwise to question Vorien on the subject). However one of the first Invested items that Imanitos helped his master create during apprenticeship was a wand crafted from a human thigh-bone...
Vorien pauses as a servant enters to clear away the breakfast dishes. While he waits, he crosses over to the chair and gently scratches the raven on the ridge above one eye. When the servant has gone, he continues.
"I had to be sure. The nature of our studies makes us naturally suspicious and competitive, and this matter is of the utmost secrecy. I believe that you can be trusted - to a point. I will decide whether it is necessary to take you further than that point at a later date."
Imanitos is amazed. Praise and trust from his master in the same day! This has to be a first. He decides not to say anything yet - he may well end up spoiling his master's talkative mood.
"The trip that we will make I can tell you little of. It is self-revelationary, and I am not one to spoil a surprise. Suffice it to say that we will be travelling deep into the Alps incognito. As far as the rest is concerned... You no doubt remember most of my conversation with Hesst. That demon is the chief vassal of Duke Tyritescus, The Betrayer, who rules Barcelona as his personal fief. I have been working for that demonic Lord for three dozen years or more, and have done well in his service." The pontifex waves his arms all around at the finery, encompassing in his gesture the covenant of Doissetep.
"As you probably know, Tyritescus is the enemy of Harkerr the Devourer, they have been since the days of Rome. It was the Lord of Traitors who arranged for the demon to be exiled to earth in the first place. Harkerr has been so long from the Hierarchy that he has lessened in power, and needs a massive effort to enable him to buy his way back onto the Tally of Souls. The Magi of Malinbois started this process when they released him. The Lord of Pain claims Rousillon as his earthly fief, territory desired by Lord Tyritescus. I engineered your arrival at Malibois."
At Imanitos' expression, Vorien expands on this last point.
"Oh yes, even minor fiends such as Feud crows have their uses, whispering my instructions in your ear every night. You didn't really think that I would allow you to wander free across Europe carrying my damnation in your heart, did you? Even your `fortuitous' discovery of a source of Tuefelsdrek was not down to chance. To continue... your placement in Malinbois was vital, an eye had to be kept on my enemy. As I predicted, Annabelle de Clevault made contact - she is the Devourer's major pawn, and you have done nothing to destroy a relationship with her. I want you to spend more time with her, get her confidence. At the right time you will feed her information from me, and we will close the trap."
"Of course, this is just the portion of my plan that concerns you. I have been a long time working on this, and I am not going to place all my trust in one called Mendax!" he snorts out a laugh.
"You must first improve your Goetic abilities. Although you want to appear to de Clevault as a novice, you must be aware of more than she will be prepared to teach you. I had hoped that you would work on this without needing prompting from me, but it seems that I was wrong."
Imanitos sits in silence, trying to digest what he has just heard. The planning that must have gone into this scheme is staggering in its complexity, and this is just a portion of the entire plan. For a mortal man to contemplate the downfall of a major demon of the Pit... the man is either arrogant or confident, and both make him dangerous. However, if anyone could do it Vorien probably could, and he has carefully groomed Imanitos to play a role in that. A suspicion blooms deep down in Imanitos' mind - it is unusual for his Master to be so open, he is not called `Tectus' for nothing. The hook in this scheme, Imanitos' Pride in being confided in, is obvious; but what is the real motive behind this relevation? No doubt only time will tell, but it is bound to add at least another three loops to this already convulted knot of schemes.
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Imanitos slowly rises to his feet, eyes wide with the revelations he has just been privileged to. "With your approval then, master, I will see to my studies without further delay. I do not wish to fail you in the tasks you have prepared." There is a slight genuflection to the pontifex, and then the young magus turns and leaves the chamber.
Outside, he exhales deeply, and pauses before heading for the staircase, mind still ablaze with what he has been told. The boy Allandro, seemingly folding the master's robe on a table not far from the doorway, nods in acknowledgment, a curious expression upon his face. Imanitos replies with a knowing look, and returns to his chambers upstairs. He stares out of the window again, wondering quite what he has been caught up in, and what further surprises his master has in store for him over the coming seasons.
Imanitos paced the floor of his chamber. He had been in Doissetep a whole week now, and he had hardly seen his former Master to commence his studies. True, some of the chats that he had had with Allandro were enlightening, to say the least, and he had already received two invitations to dinner; however it was still frustrating.
At that point, there is a knock on the door. Imanitos subconsciously straightens his doublet and rakes his fingers through his hair before calling out "Come in!"
Standing at the door is Allandro. His face is sullen, and a large red welt is evident on his face, rapidly purpling to a huge bruise.
"The Master is back, and he wants to see you, Master Imanitos." The apprentice mumbles his message - Imanitos guesses that he has probably had a few teeth broken as well. Vorien's administrations of punishment never were too gentle.
Imanitos descends the steps of the tower after the limping young man, into Vorien's study. The master is standing by the window, gazing out onto the snow-fields of the Pyrenees. The raven sits in his customary position on the back of Vorien's chair, eyes glinting evilly in the cold winter sunshine.
Without turning, Vorien starts to speak. "The time has come to start matters rolling. You must being your studies with no delay." The Pontifex turns, clearly showing the large irregular dark-red mark that stains his left cheek like a birthmark. His eyes have turned a steely grey, as they do when he is extremely angry. Vorien's glare challenges Imanitos to ask a question, to show any reaction to the pontifex's altered appearance. The younger magus decides not to.
Allandro brings mulled wine, and then leaves quietly.
"Soon I will call Dantelion to me. You may ask him a single question. My control is such that the answer you receive can be trusted, as long as the question is exact and precise. Dantelion will twist any response to his best advantage if possible. You may only ask a single question, and I suggest that you do not include clauses or subsidiary questions. The last stipulation is that the question must be of no more than 49 words. You have a few minutes to think of the wording."
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Imanitos' eyes widen slightly and he takes a deep breath. He had not expected this so soon. He nods briefly to his master, turns, and walks contemplatively to the other end of the room. He spends several minutes in thought, staring into the embers of the small fire, back turned to the pontifex.
In truth, Imanitos already has a good idea of what to say. In his mind he has been over the question many times already. However it has been a long while since he uttered any words of the Black Tongue, just as well that he anticipated such an encounter - before his departure from Malinbois he had spent several days re-examining his notes on the subject. However to phrase it in less than 50 words... His mind races, silently rehearsing the words, counting as he goes. Eventually he is ready.
Taking a deep breath, Imanitos turns from the fireplace and walks forward towards the waiting magus, composing himself. "Master, I am ready."
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Vorien holds aloft his glittering Court-Stone.
"Dantelion, Keeper of Secrets, Attend me!" The tone in his voice is one of command, terrible indeed when he speaks the Black Tongue. As before there is a terrible twisting feeling as the demon arrives, accompanied this time with wails of anguish from a dozen female throats.
Standing before the two magi is a tall figure dressed in a long black robe that completely conceals his body. Were it not for his unnatural thinness he would appear entirely human.
"Your command, Master?" the demon bows obsequiously, virtually bending double to do so.
"Listen and obey the command of Imanitos Mendax, serve him this once as you would serve me."
The demon turns and faces Imanitos.
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Imanitos starts talking in the deep, harsh tones of the Devil's Tongue, somewhat haltingly:
"A person spying on me has delivered 3 messages to the covenant of Malinbois. Using all of your abilities, go now and discover all information you can on this person without delay, including name, appearance, occupation and abode, and then return with all possible haste and report to me."
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The robe in which the demon is dressed starts to swell and grow obscenely, as if there was something huge beneath it moving around. It then collapses in a pile on the ground, empty. Barely a minute passes before the robe is once more filled.
"The person you are seeking information about was born in the city of Salerno in Italy to Marco and Maria Trevellian, the inkeepers of the Reddened Boar, one of the most popular tarverns in the city. He was christened Francois on the 6th day of August in the 1013rd year after the Muting, named after his mother's father who was french. Growing up in the city was by no means easy, he had no brother or sister to care for him, and his parents was far too busy to pay much attention to him..."
Imanitos realises that his question was badly framed. True to his command the demon is going to give the full life story of the person persecuting him! Vorien has a face like thunder - this will cost him dearly in control - if the enemy was born in 1013AD he has eleven score years of life to tell!
[lots of tedious details about his life as a child]
Imanitos' mind suddenly snaps back from it's wandering.
"...where he was discovered by Cercistium of House Tremere, he was six years of age. He was apprenticed at Coeris, the Domus Magna of House Tremere. Although no longer the Primus of that House, Cercistium still had a great deal of influence in the House, and so his was a priveliged apprenticeship..."
Vorien leans over to Imanitos. He is still furious, but his anger is on simmer, belayed by his indomitable curiousity. "You pick your enemies well, boy. The pupil of the man who started the Schism War? I am impressed!"
[Lots of tedious details of his life as an apprentice, the demon has been talking for well over 3 hours now]
"...He took his Gauntlet a year earlier than standard, and was given the name Aquilinius. From Coeris he moved to the Covenant of Postestas in Rome..."
Vorien once more: "I thought you said that this Aquilinius was dead?"
[lots of tedious details about life as a young Magus, mainly to do with making social contacts and building political power, eventually becomes the head of the covenant in 1065]
At this point, it is well over eight hours since the demon started to speak, and Imanitos is starting to tire of the droning voice. Vorien leaves the room momentarily, returning with a skull, too large for a man's skull, which has the symbol of Doissetep inscribed on its forehead. "This will make a record of what the demon says, enabling us to peruse it later in detail. I might as well get the most out of this cock-up."
"...considered himself instrumental in the Treaty of Rome, but this was generally recognized as self-delusion, nonetheless, did have a lot of political clout in the Tribunal..."
Imanitos suddenly wakes up. It is dawn, and the fire has burnt out. The demon is still talking, and there is no sign of Vorien.
"...Became archmagus in 1110 by defeating Cercistium at Certamen. Left Postestas at this point to rejoin Coeris, spends next 50 years consolidating power, now working largely behind the scenes..."
Vorien comes in a couple of hours after Imanitos wakes, a full plate of meaty victuals to break his fast. He hears what the demon is saying, and immediately sits down, listening intently, his food forgotten.
[lots of not-so-tedious details of the various plots he got involved in, including quite a few blackmails on Hermetic Worthies such as Primi and Praecos. Gain yourself a point (not an xp) in Hermes History, and change your specialization to Blackmail]
"...eventually got himself in so much trouble that he decided to escape, so built himself a hideyhole beneath the Mediterranean, becoming an expert in the Arts of Aquam..."
[lots of stuff about the work he did in the intervening 70 years]
Vorien rediscovers his breakfast around dinner time, and calls for more food and wine, which is left outside the door. [The servants know better than to come in when the red light outside the door is on :) ]
"...Entered Twilight after a ill-prepared final strike against Imanitos Mendax of Jerbiton, an inexperienced Magus. As a result, became a spiritual creature composed of elemental water. For the last four years has been using his new-found powers of emotional manipulation and control to strike back at the one responsible for his current state..."
"...Currently located in the muslim city of Tlemcem in the Fatimid Sultanate, living in a room above the oil-presser's shop on the Street of Barrels..."
"...Able to change appearance at will but natural form is that of a large snake formed entirely of water, usually uses his previous human form..."
The demon finally finishes talking at dusk on the second day. Imanitos thinks he has all the information he desires. Vorien peremptibly dismisses the demon and then turns on Imanitos.
"You have cost me dearly today! Dantelion was a fearful demon to bind in the Contest of Wills, and now his indenture is nearly spent! I would extract the payment from your hide, if you weren't more important to me alive!"
I wrote:
Imanitos stares back at his master, eyes wide, with a genuine look of fear upon his face. He involuntarily takes a step or two backwards. "I am truly sorry, my master. I was not aware of the power of your thrall and of the vast quantity of information it would be able to reveal." He continues hurriedly, trying to stave off another outburst. "But it is not all bad, master. We have learned much today and I am sure that Dantelion will be no match for your formidable powers when you come to renew your binding."
He pauses momentarily and casts his eyes downwards. "Through my inexperience I have erred, and this has been to your cost. I apologise profusely and offer to compensate you in a manner which you deem appropriate." He looks up again to meet Vorien's cold grey stare. "But master, let us not be diverted from the real problem! Your thrall brought grave news - Aquilinius is extremely powerful and poses a very real threat. What is to be done about him?"
After finishing his rushed words, face still flushed, he raises a half-questioning eyebrow towards the pontifex, breath poised.
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"You will not divert my wrath so easily, Mendax - but you will delay it. Recompense will be provided by you at a later date. As far as the problem in hand goes; well, we have a number of options."
Vorien stands and starts to pace the room, deep in thought. He eventually assumes his customary position, gazing out of the window onto the snow-fields below.
"There is nothing you or I could do against this Aquilinius. However, I'm sure House Tremere would be most interested to find out about him. In addition, the Code includes protecting ones sodales, a clause all too favoured by House Flambeau to justify the slaughter of many non-Hermetic wizards and beasts. Of course, Primus Tertious of Flambeau is on the Council of Pontifexes along with myself, a word in the right ear and your problem may well go away on its own. The Archmagus Grimgroth may well be of assistance as well - a rampaging ex-archmagus could be a threat to the stability of the Order and the integrity of the alleged Council of Archmagi. In addition, Grimgroth is a master of elemental magic, a fact which may be of use in this matter. The only other possible avenue of possibility is coming to an arrangement with this creature, but I doubt that there is anything that we could offer."
"Apart from that, it is most important that you manage to bind a demon of secrets to your Court. Should you then be questioned, you can allow it to possess you and lie with the greatest of safety. This would be a last ditch affair, offering the demon its freedom if it obeys. This is of course if Aquilinius carries through its threat, which it may not do - as soon as the Order is alerted to its presence it may find it very hard to speak to any magus. As an ex-member of the Order it has no guarantee of safety, and is likely to be treated as a demon."
"I suggest you prepare a scheme of who to tell, and what precautions you will take. It will be a good test of your ability to serve me, and if I approve we can set matters in motion. I suggest that you do not plan to meet with this being - let us force its hand and see what happens."
I wrote:
Imanitos breathes a little more easily, now that his master's temper has seemingly subsided - at least for the present time. However there is still an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach at the talk of recompense...
"Yes, master, I think it would be best if we were to make knowledge of this renegade more public. House Flambeau in particular should be very interested. However... the only difficulty will arise in providing a plausible story as to how I came about this information." He pauses in thought. "At Malinbois I am known for the subtlety of my magicks and for the ease with which I am able to deal with mundanes. It is quite possible that, having discovered that someone was threatening my life, I chose to travel for a season or two on a mission of information gathering. After many months of travel, I had tracked him down to the Fatimid Sultanate where I managed to seduce a woman who was in his acquaintance..." As he begins to flesh out the tale, his manner becomes more theatrical (as it is wont to do when he is being untruthful). "After having realised the exact nature of my foe, I wisely chose not confront him personally, but instead returned home where I could disseminate knowledge of this criminal through the proper channels." His tone reverts to its normal devious self, although with his characteristic cultured edge. "If nothing else, it will provide a reasonable explanation to members of my own covenant, who will no doubt be curious as to where I have been recently." He strokes his distinctly stubbly chin. "The fact that I am growing a disguise will only add credence to my tale. Also, we will be leaving on your mysterious trip in the spring. I can confine myself to this tower for a few months upon our return. Then I will not have been seen here for a long while, returning much later with a beard."
He smiles in satisfaction, although his weary eyes tell a slightly different tale. "Yes, I think that is workable. However you are right that I need to guard against the eventuality that this Aquilinius will reveal my... secret. As you have said, I need to add a suitable thrall to my Court without delay." His shoulders sag slightly. "Forgive me, my master, but today's events have left me tired and in need of rest. I will think on this matter some more." He nods his head briefly, turns and leaves the room, before heading upstairs.
Entering his chamber, he walks over to the window and notes that the sky outside is purpling to black. Closing his curtains, he rubs wearily at his eyes and looks longingly at the comforting bed. However he instead lights a candle by the desk and reaches for a stock of parchment. Sitting in the chair, he composes himself, taking up a quill. He begins to write...
Steeling himself against his fatigue, Imanitos continues to make his notes, writing down every detail he can recall about his enemy that was revealed by the demon. It is many hours into the night when he is finished. His eyes are darkened, his head feels full of sand and his scribing arm aches. Exhausted, he snuffs out the candle before stumbling to his bed and falling almost immediately to sleep.
Vorien comes to the small chamber that has been set aside for Imanitos to study. The younger Magus stands at the lectern with one of his master's massive tomes of forbidden lore, learning the syllables of the Fifth Incantation of Command for the demon he is intending to summon. It is nearing the feast of Candlemas, which signififies the end of Winter. The master stands and observes his former pupil for a few moments, a thoughful expression on his handsome face. He then speaks.
"Come, Imanitos. Fetch your ritual equipment - it is time to summon Ralicedge."
The master goetist does not pause to allow Imanitos to gather up the bundle that he has carried all the way from Malinbois, but instead heads off for the stairs. Imanitos quickly grabs the bag of instruments required for a goetic summons, and rushes to follow his master.
Vorien has passed the floor bearing his sanctum by the time that Imanitos has caught up. The master continues upwards to the very top of the tower, the stairs end in a small bare chamber. A sudden urge to tell Vorien everything is the only sign that Imanitos has that his master has just cast a spell - he is aware of Vorien's sigil of old. The walls of the small chamber disappear, revealing a much larger chamber occupying the entirety of the top floor of the tower. In the chamber already is Allandro, who is arranging some objects on a table in the centre of the room. As his master enters, he hitches the hem of his robes and steps carefully over the ritual circle which encloses the table, already inlaid with powders and set with lighted candles burning with a sickly hue.
"Leave us," commands Vorien, and the apprentice bows and hurries out of the room. Vorien then turns to Imanitos.
"You will assist in binding Ralicedge from that circle." He indicates a second ritual circle to the west of the other. "Go you now to it and prepare the First Pentacle of Saturn for that task. The materials you need are there already. Also prepare the Fourth Pentacle of the Moon, in case he feels disinclined to leave. I will fumigate the room while you do that, and prepare the Dark Circle for the summons."
Imanitos crosses to the Circle and finds there a table bearing virgin uterine vellum. A pen of lead and ink of oak galls and copperas (which gives the darkest black), lies ready for the Pentacle of Saturn; and a silver coated pinion from a swallow lies ready for the Pentacle of the Moon, along with ink of azurite. He gets to work scribing the intricate whorls of the elaborate sigils. Meanwhile, the pontifex fumigates the room with a thurible burning aloes, ash, cedar, ambergris, lapis lazuli, saffron, storax, peacock's feathers, stork's blood and stag's brain; all the while calling aloud invocations to the Watchers to ensure their governance over the ritual ahead.
This done, Vorien crosses the room to Imanitos' circle, inpecting the first Pentacle while Imanitos puts the finishing flourishes on the second one. The Magus purses his lips, but doesn't say anything - Imanitos takes this to be a sign that he could find no fault with the work, and feels a rush of satisfaction. Vorien returns to the centre of the room and stands in the Prime Circle, and adjusts his glittering robe, breathing deeply to centre himself.
"We shall now begin. I require your aesfoetedia now." He waits for Imanitos to bring over the hardwood case, and then gestures for him to return to the Circle.
"Sabaoth, attend me." The sharp-eyed raven flaps down from his hiding place in the rafters and alights on the goetist's left shoulder. With some relief Imanitos watches his master remove a large pouch from beneath his robe and tip the contents, greasy black powder, onto a tray in front of him. At least he was not paying for all of this summoning! Withdrawing six vials from Imanitos' battered case, Vorien commences the Incantation of Contaction, using both the greasy powder and Imanitos' oily fluid to inscribe the symbols of Familiarity onto the circle. The spell continues for an hour and a half, and their is little for Imanitos to do except for watch his master painstakingly draw the sigils and burn the substances that correspond with the demon Ralicedge, while the horrid syllables of the Black Tongue echo around the chamber. The symbols inscribed by the goetist writhe and change in an hypnotic fashion as the spell progresses. Despite the intense concentration involved in such an incantation, Vorien carries it off with consumate ease, without any hesitation or mispronounciation. Imanitos cannot help but feel admiration for the task pulled off by his master, knowing that this is the easy part of the process.
Finally, the resonance of the last word dies away, and Vorien pauses. "We have a few minutes before Ralicedge will arrive." He reaches for the Sword of the Art, laying on the table before him, and removes the red silk that covers it. "Bartholomew of Tyre attests that Ralicedge will try to shed power in the Summoning tunnel, to make himself less useful to the Magus once he arrives. I have never had cause to doubt the words of Batholomew."
Holding the sword high, its polished blade glinting in the dim light, Vorien intones the simple words of Summoning.
"Come to me, Ralicedge, servant of Lucifuge Rocofale, and Clerk of Hell. Obey promptly without tarrying, or have thy torments in the Pit multiplied a hundred-fold. I constrain you therefore to appear here in comely human shape and with all thy Power, by the names of Power, HAIN, LON, HILAY, HELIM, RADISHA, LEDIEHA. ADONAY, SADAI, MESSIAS, ISCHYROS, AGIOS, AGLA." As he speaks, he plunges the Sword of the Art into a nearby brazier, and then into a nearby trough of bull's blood and juniper berries. As the steaming blade emerges from this bath there is a cracking sound, raising goosebumps on Imanitos. Reaching though a gap in space, the watching Magi see first fingers, then hands emerge from a black rent that has appeared in the room. Climbing slowly out of this rent is a man-like figure, soaked in thick blood coloured slime. His skin is wrinked, and a nut-brown in colour. The head is highly domed and covered in short ginger fur. The demon's eyes are pits of darkness. Vorien holds up a disc of lead inscribed with the sigil of the demon. The disc is pierced through the middle, and the pontfex squints to gaze at the demon through the hole.
"Cursed fiend!" he exclaims. "Thee were commanded to come with all thy mantle of Power. Think not that thy weakened state will save thee from my Dominion."
"Why Mortal! I would not try to trick someone so powerful as you!" The demon's voice is harsh with a French accent, and manages to twist these words until the sarcasm in them drips from his tongue like venom.
"Enough! Thee were not commanded to speak!" The Magus hurls a handful of grey powder at the brazier, which raises a massive cloud of crackling sparks. When Imanitos' vision clears, the demon and Vorien have gazes locked.
"Submit, fiend! Thy will is no match for mine!" The demon does not reply, but to Imanitos' mind it seems that it has taken a step forward, towards the ritual circle.
"Acknowledge me as thy master! Bend thy knee to Vorien Tectus!" The force of the goetist's words almost causes Imanitos to drop to his knees, but the demon stands firm, grinning maniacally. Vorien reaches for his dagger below his robe, and slashes it in the air, punctuating his next words.
"You... Will... Submit!" The raven flaps its curiously coloured wings furiously, cawing loudly. Vorien uses the knife to cut a long gash across his palm, and closes his hand around the blade until the blood runs down the hilt. The demon utters a groan, and drops onto both knees, head bowed.
Vorien turns to Imanitos. His face is lightly beaded with sweat, but flushed with the exultation of a battle won. "Hold aloft the Pentacle you have prepared, pupil."
"Demon, lift thy head and read the symbols on the First Pentacle of Saturn which is held before you." Imanitos feels the icy gaze of the demon fall on his face before it rests on the Pentacle he holds. Vorien once more takes up the leaden seal, along with a scrap of vellum bearing letters of Black Speech, holding then over the brazier. In his left and he has his glittering Court-Stone. "As thy name and seal are bound to this stone, choked with suphurous substances and about to burn over this material fire, so in the name of thy master Lucifuge Rocofale and by the power and dignity of the names of ARMAROS, SEMJAZA and ARAQIEL, may all these drive thee into the lake of fire prepared for the damned and accursed spirits, to remain there until the Day of Wrath, no more remembered by the face of God who shall come to judge the quick and the dead with the whole world by fire, should thee even once hesistate to fulfill the commands that are passed from me unto thee."
Pontifex Vorien turns, ignoring the presence of the bound demon. "Step forth, Imanitos, and meet your new teacher. The battle was won, with no little success. I believe this servant to be worth much to my cause, maybe even a True Name or two." The demon stands. Once more it has a haughty look on its face.
I wrote:
Imanitos thinks that perhaps a word or two might be in order. He steps forward and says a few words in the Black Tongue.
"I greet you as Imanitos Mendax, pupil of your master. You will treat me as you would him. Over the coming seasons you will be commanded to teach me much of your knowledge."
He steps back again as the harsh echoes of his words fade. The pontifex addresses the fiend again.
Mark wrote:
"Begone for now, slave. When I am ready, I will call upon your name thrice." The raw-boned figure of the hell-sent fiend disappears with a strange wrenching sensation.
"Come, boy. Let us celebrate my victory. Allandro can tidy up here." Before leaving, the pontifex carefully places his Court-Stone back into its box and carries it out. Sabaoth the raven still sits on his shoulder, and it has a smug expression on its face, as if satisfied by the night's activity. Vorien descends to his lounge, where servants have set up a huge amount of food, the main course of which is a whole roasted fawn, only lightly cooked so that it still runs red with blood. The liver sits inside the carcass, still raw, and Vorien slices it and feeds gobbets of the bloody organ to the raven, which cackles with delight. Vorien eats like one famished (it is quite likely that he has fasted for a few days - it is not often wise to meet a demon with a full stomach), tearing into the meat with his fingers and cramming it into his mouth, washing it down with copious amounts of a rich fruity wine. Uncharacteristically, he seems relaxed and congenial, laughing over old times while gorging on the food and drink before him. This is a mood quike unlike anything that Imanitos has ever seen, and he is quite disgusted at this display of gluttony. Once the table has been cleared of everything remotely edible, Vorien summons a servant, and commands him to procure a serving wench and have her sent to his chambers. He then bids Imanitos a good night, leaving him to sit amongst the empty dishes and flagons in the gloom of a dying fire. He is not entirely alone though, Sabaoth sits on the back of his master's chair and preens, glancing at Imanitos occasionally, cocking his head to one side.
I wrote:
Imanitos sits back in his chair, gazing at the creature. His curiousity eventually gets the better of him. Given his master's strange mood, he may not get an opportunity like this again for a while. He feels somewhat strange addressing the bird, but waits for it to glance at him before leaning forward with a questioning eyebrow raised. He is not quite sure of what to say. "Tell me Sabaoth... how long have you been in my master's acquaintance?" He is not even sure if the raven will understand his words.
Mark wrote:
"Since he arrived here at Doissetep." The words, uttered in a deep cultured voice (with an Italian accent, Imanitos realises) still sound very strange issuing from the creature's beak. One would expect a croaking, cawing voice from such a beast.
"He decided he needed assistance in his plots - one who would be loyal to him. He felt that he couldn't fully trust his apprentices." The words are said with no inflection, but Imanitos catches the implied insult.
"Since my aims are currently aligned with his, I'll do as he says. Maybe longer - he is a good master to serve." The raven flaps down to the table to inspect it for scraps.
"You know - he's proud of you. He won't admit it, but you are his success. He sees you as a product of his own genius - he's not proud of you in a father-son way, but more of an artisan-masterpiece kind of way, but he's proud, none the less. You're safe for now, but don't let him start thinking of you as anything other than his."
"I'll bid you a good night - I have work to do. If you would open the window for me..."
The bird flaps over to the window sill, and Imanitos opens up the leaded glass pane to allow it egress. Then, extinguishing the lamps, Imanitos makes his own way to bed, with a lot on his mind.
P.S. In case you were wondering...
The snow is still deep in the Pyrenees when Vorien and Imanitos set out. Imanitos thought that Vorien was being far too paranoid with his preparations to leave - he insisted that they bundle up in rude peasant cloaks and leave with one of the supply wagons that leave Doissetep about once every month.
Gorodin, the half-giant who operated the old elevator that brought supplies into the covenant was left with the impression that they were merely horse traders that had overwintered at Doissetep. Again Imanitos was amazed at how well planned this whole operation was to ensure that no-one noticed their leaving - Gorodin seemed to remember the "horse traders" arriving at the beginning of winter and greeted the Pontifex by the name of "Andru". His memory was more complete than possible with a simple spell - the ogre "remembered" having sat with this Andru by the fire in the Second Kitchen with Rachelus, the head porter, sipping stolen wine and swapping stories. Imanitos is in no doubt that Rachelus has the same memories as well. He watched in amazement while his master put on a coarse accent and told filthy jokes to the immense man as they descended through the vertical shaft in the rock, lowered on a platform by the giant. It is obvious that Vorien has set up all of these false memories well in advance.
They have seven horses altogether - one each for riding, one spare each, and a pack-horse to take the food. Vorien had made it clear that they would be avoiding most habitation on the way, stopping only when absolutely necessary to stock up on supplies. Ralicedge sits on his horse like a sack of tubers - it was necessary for Vorien to heavily ensorcel the animal for it to allow the demon to ride it in the first place, and it is obvious that the skill of riding is not on Hell's curriculum.
They head north into the County of Armagnac, and by the time that they reach the low country, Ralicedge has started to teach the younger Magus. The travel is exhausting - for a start Vorien insists on going cross-country instead of sticking to roads, and they travel from dawn to dusk with only a short rest for lunch. Imanitos sits on his horse, saddlesore, with a book open on his lap and an ink-pot carefully balanced between his legs, taking notes on what the demon is telling him. Fortunately the demon "dried up", losing the viscous slime that covered his body - this according to Vorien is the birthing fluid from the Summoning Tunnel. As long as his face is kept well covered, with its empty eye sockets and small thorny barbs on chin and cheeks, Ralicedge can pass for human.
I wrote:
It doesn't take Imanitos long to realise that, what with the constant jolting of the horse across the broken ground, scribing in the book is going to be rather difficult. He curses quietly to himself as he reaches again for his dirty kerchief to blot the stain as his quill slips. He realises that his attention has slipped, losing track of the sarcastic monologue provided by his tutor.
Cursing again, he closes his eyes momentarily in concentration. With a minor Rego Corpus spell, the tome raises up an inch or two underneath his left hand which supports it. With another spell, he steadies his writing arm, so that book and quill are stationed smoothly in front of him, despite the perpetual motion of the rest of his body in time with the horse. Concentration renewed, he glances momentarily at Ralicedge riding to his left, before scribing again...
Mark wrote:
By the time that Vorien calls for a change in direction (about a week into the journey, as they cross the Toulouse/La Rochelle Road), Imanitos is fed up with Ralicedge's haughty tone, vain ways and sarcastic manner. This demon could easily give an Italian lessons in arrogance, and has a way of playing up Imanitos' slightest mistake or misunderstanding into a monument of ridicule. At least Imanitos has started to feel a little more at ease around the demon - although he's not sure whether feeling at ease in the presence of a demon is good news or bad.
Vorien seems completely detatched for the entire journey. Imanitos is lucky if he hears him utter more than a score words each day. He gave the demon precise instructions of the teaching arrangement before they set off, negotiating with the demon how much its current Indenture will be reduced for this service. Imanitos is warned that he will only be allowed to foreshorten the Indenture by half for the Teaching Pact - the rest of the service is to allow for a margin of error in the estimation of the amount of control that he has over the creature, and to keep it bound in the Court of Thralls. The benefits of the Teaching Pact disappear when the demon is released, so Imanitos must not delay too long in using the knowledge gained from this devilish clerk. After explaining all this to his pupil, Vorien entered a sort of trance-like state, rarely reacting to anything that occurs around him. Sometimes Imanitos guesses that his master is in communication with Astasians, or similar beasts, but he never utters a word.
The group heads roughly east for another two weeks, passing to the south of Le Puy and the north of Arles, seemingly heading for Genoa. However, some 40 miles from Genoa they turn north once more, entering the foothills of the Alps. Vorien guides the group through the passes with little effort, as if familiar with this part of the world. Imanitos is aware that they are slowly turning eastwards, curving around the north of Italy, heading towards Austria. They travel through the mountains at a tortuously slow rate, managing only a dozen miles a day. It is now midway through spring, and the snow is beginning to melt in the passes, but this just makes travelling more dangerous, with an increased risk of avalanches.
Imanitos estimates from his limited knowledge of Geography and the rough map that his master has brought with him that they are directly south of Linz when Vorien announces that they are but a day from their location. He seems to wake up somewhat, carefully noting tiny features that he is using to guide himself to the location. Eventually, he leads the group into a small, blind-ending valley facing east. At the base of a sharp peaked mountain that forms the end of the valley there is a number of stone structures. As they approach it can be seen to be what appears to be a small village, now in ruins, except that the structures are larger, and would have been well built. It also becomes apparent that this village did not fall into ruins, but instead was torn down.
"It was once a Temple of Mercury, a bastion of magickal learning hidden where the Vandals that sacked Rome could not find it." Vorien's voice is quiet, almost (but not quite) respectful for the obvious age of the place. "It was later found by an itinerant monk, who founded a place of learning in the ruins of the Temple. That monk later became St. Peter of Munich. The community did not last long - a mere century or two. About three-score years ago a group of five young Magi from the Covenant of Cratecius founded a covenant here. Of the Magi of Phoenix Covenant, only two now remain - Delstrego of Tytalus, the filius of one of the founders, and Marcus Rabinus of Jerbiton. The covenant was reported destroyed, and the survivors moved on. It was Hell that destroyed the covenant, just as it had brought about the fall of the Monastery of St.Peter and the Temple of Mercury."
Imanitos is anxious to know why they have come, but doesn't quite have the nerve. If Vorien Tectus is in awe of this place, then it is a place to be feared.
"The rest is up to you," says Vorien suddenly. He reaches into his saddlebag and withdraws a bundle of black velvet. This he hands to Imanitos. "Take this into the Covenant. Locate the old altar to Mercury, and place the contents of the bundle onto the altar. Then return here to me."
I wrote:
Imanitos casts a curious look across to the pontifex, but chooses not to question the command. "Very well." Dismounting, he hands the reins to Vorien before taking the mysterious bundle. Walking away, he hefts the bundle speculatively in his hand before glancing back briefly. His master's expression provides no clue as to his intent. "I will return shortly," Imanitos calls over his shoulder, leaving behind the two cloaked figures atop their mounts.
Not knowing the location of the temple, Imanitos wanders roughly towards the centre of the collection of buildings. He considers providing some light in the darkness, as the ground underfoot is treacherous, but decides against it. The pale moonlight, coupled with his keen eye, is enough to guide him around the blocky silhouttes. There is no sound apart from the quiet crunch of his feet on the ground.
A distant hooting of an owl is heard as he reaches a small clear area in the centre of the structures. Sure enough, he can discern what appears to be a temple-shaped image ahead. His pulse is quickening, but he draws in a breath and carefully ascends the steps. Eventually, he seems to be directly in front of the altar. He pauses, looking around from side to side, but there is nothing to be seen in the blackness. Again he fingers the velvet, trying to imagine what might be contained within. He is tensed as he meticulously opens the bundle, slowly easing the contents onto the altar...
Mark wrote:
...and is surprised when a familiar looking object rolls out. Lying on the stone block before him is what seems to be a quarter of an egg, split longitudinally. It is made of a lustrous red-black stone, somewhat like flint, and its two flat edges seems to have been sheared from a larger piece, just like flint. The curved surface is rougher and pitted, and bears four letters of the Black Script.
Imanitos reaches forth to pick it up and examine it further. He has seem its like before - two of them in fact, in possession of the Council of Malinbois. He thinks that Marcus takes care of them now - they are quarters of the caligo heart of the Devourer, obtained before Imanitos arrived at the covenant. What is Vorien doing with one of them?
As his hands clench around the unusually warm stone, he recieves a momentary vision of fire, many people running away screaming, then bursting into flame. He feels dizzy, momentarily flushed as waves of heat pass over his body... and then the feeling is gone. Once again he is standing in a chilly ruined Temple a few hours past moonrise. The letters of the Black Script seem strangely attractive - Imanitos has not had much experience with the written form of the Devil's Tongue, but he thinks that in a few minutes he will be able to decipher the word. The letters are strangely cursive and difficult to read, infuriatingly shifting when he examines them too closely. The heart-fragment is also getting painfully warm in his hand, until Imanitos is forced to drop it back onto the altar.
I wrote:
Rubbing his sore hand, Imanitos instead leans forward to examine the mystical object as it lies in front of him. It is difficult to discern the cryptic sworls and glyphs in the moonlight, so he leans forward, resting one hand on the crumbling side of the altar, until his face is mere inches from the stone. He spends a long while trying to decipher the words, occasionally rotating it to get the best vantage point in the pale light. He becomes engrossed in the bewitching symbols and becomes less aware of his surroundings.
The hooting of the owl again breaks him from his reverie. Shaking his head, he tries to clear his thoughts. He has been here too long already. Wrenching himself away, he takes a step backwards. But it would be so easy just to reach up and take it... Involuntarily, his hand reaches forward and rests above the stone. He is momentarily gripped by indecision, but an image of an impatient figure atop a horse comes into his mind, and he slowly lets his hand drop to the side. Perhaps wisely, he chooses not to disobey Vorien's orders. He turns away, quickly walking down the steps and off into the blackness where his master awaits.
A message to the Primus of Flambeau, delivered via Redcap sometime in Autumn 1234.
To the Archmage Tertious, Primus of House Flambeau and Pontifex of the Covenant of Doissetep -
As a loyal member of the Order is it my rightful duty to make knowledge of our enemies public. I compose this missive with this task in mind. I apologise humbly if this message is misdirected, but in my experience the great House of Flambeau has been the most effective in eliminating any dangers to our Order. I have information which I sincerely hope will be of interest, and I thought that you might appreciate being the first to know.
My lord, the ancient renegade Archmage Aquilinius, filius Cercistium, of the House of Tremere is at large. I am sure that I do not need to remind you of this filthy traitor's history of deceit and treachery. For the past three quarters of a century he has been hidden away in a cave beneath the Meditterranean, where he had secretly mastered the elemental magicks of water. By chance, I was leading a group from my covenant and we stumbled upon him. Having no means of direct attack, it was my duty to fight him in certamen, but alas, I was sorely outmatched. However, his Final Strike was poorly composed and he entered a severe Twilight. I believed this to be Final, but was mistaken. Now he has become an elemental creature of water himself - resembling something like a large watery serpent - although he can assume any appearance at will.
Blaming me for his current state, Aquilinius - if he can still be called such - has tried to threaten me in order that I will bestow gifts of money and vis upon him. He has been sending anonymous notes and is adept in manipulating mundanes to aid his cause. Fearing for my life, I have spent the last few seasons tracking him down, in disguise. (I am noted for the subtlety of my magic and the efficaciousness with which I am able to deal with mundanes.) After many months, I finally located him in the city of Tlemcen in the Fatimid Sultanate. He was living above the oil pressers shop on the Street of Barrels. I was sorely tempted to try and defeat him myself, guessing the potential rewards to be very great, but in truth I knew that he was an opponent beyond my power.
I therefore call upon the might of House Flambeau to cleanse us of this vile infection, not only for my sake, but for the sake of our Order. If you wish any further information from me, I am currently residing as the guest of my pater here at Doissetep.
My lord, I am your humble servant,
- Imanitos Mendax, filius Vorien Tectus, scholae Jerbitonis"
As Imanitos is packing his things away on the last day of the Tribunal, there is a knock at his door. Standing there is a red-and-black liveried servant of Vorien Tectus.
"Pontifex Tectus wishes to see you before you leave, Master Imanitos."
With a sinking feeling in his heart, Imanitos quickly changes into his best tunic, and sets off after the servant.
The Pontifex is awaiting him in the gardens that surround his tower, harvesting the large purple roses that grow there with consumate care. As he sees the servant approach, he carefully lays down the basket and strips off the heavy leather forge-gloves, putting them next to the basket of flowers, making sure that he does not touch the outside.
"Ah, Mendax" With a wave, Vorien dismisses the servant, who seems only too pleased to leave the garden.
"I know you are preparing to leave, so I will make this brief. I have... arranged with Protantus that half of your fines will be paid off by me. You will pay me back, and I am prepared to wait longer than the Praetor Quaesitoris would - let us say, five years. I don't think that we would want your sort of vis getting into the wrong hands. My hands, however, are entirely the right ones. I will take half of the payment in teufelsdrek."
The pontifex takes a step closer to Imanitos, and the younger magus can see the cold colour of steel in his master's eyes - a very bad sign indeed. His next words are hissed through clenched teeth.
"You had better not pull any more stunts like this again! We cannot afford a full Investigation at this stage. If I EVER catch you drawing the attention of the quaesitors again, my Thralls will feast well for many nights as you are slowly devoured, piece by piece, organ by organ. You are not THAT indispensible. Do I make myself clear?"
Not waiting for a reply, Vorien turns his back and starts to put the gloves back on. "Play your little games by all means, my pupil, but do not get caught. You'd better leave - your `friends' will be waiting for you."
I wrote:
Imanitos considers offering up an explanation by way of retort for his chastisement, but his master's mood guards his tongue. Instead, he offers up a curt farewell and walks away from the garden, scowling, not sure if he has got off lightly or not...
As he wanders off, Imanitos idly wonders to himself whether Vorien has become lax in his old age. (Not that he is really that old, of course, it just that he sometimes seems to Imanitos like an irascible old man...) Or maybe the grandioseness of his station at Doissetep has granted him a sense of overconfidence? Who knows what manner of Bjornaer or familiar or other strange being in this magical place could be hiding in the garden spying upon the pontifex? It was unlike him to talk so openly... Imanitos had always thought that if anything would lead to his master's downfall, it would be his temper.
Imanitos shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. Maybe it was just his mind playing devil's advocate with him, or maybe he secretly hoped for Vorien's downfall? However, his name of Tectus was well-chosen... doubtless the necessary precautions were in place. It would not even be beyond his master's subtlety to plant these seeds of doubt in his pupil's thoughts himself. It is a worrying thought for the young magus as he strolls back to the Malinbois quarters: his resistance to Mentem magicks is better than it was... but still not that good. He feels a sense of relief at leaving, and wonders how many years it will be before they must meet again.
Imanitos is fairly familiar with Perpignan, going there occasionally for whoring trips. He will pay a visit to a lapidiary there sometime in the summer or autumn of 1235. (If there is more than one, he picks the best (ie. most exclusive) one.) Posing as a minor noble who dabbles in trade (still with beard, although not for much longer), he makes enquiries about the most expensive cut gems (especially sapphires and diamonds). He will pretend to be making advance enquires for a visiting rich uncle or something like that. If they do not have anything of note (he's looking for gems that are very expensive, but not incredibly so) he will enquire as to the best place to go instead. If they do have some interesting pieces, he will ask to view them. He will express a moderate interest, saying that his uncle may return in a few weeks, before leaving.
It is about two weeks after his visit to Perpignan, and Imanitos stands alone in his bedchamber. It is midnight, and there is no sound to be heard. Looking down from the window in the top floor of the north tower, he can see that all is quiet around the covenant. A few faint flashes of strange light emanate from the direction of Mordaleus' laboratory. Imanitos smiles briefly to himself as a picture of the smelly old alchmeist working late comes to mind.
The new chairman quietly leaves the room and softly pads into his main laboratory. He stands in the centre of the chamber, alert in the darkness, sniffing at the air. Even now he absently straightens the cuff of his silken shirt as he listens. Seemingly satisfied, he leaves and returns to the corridor, this time passing his bechamber on the left. He crosses the sanctum marker and continues into the ornate hall which serves as the entranceway coming up from the main staircase. After repeating his curious silent analysis, he seems content and returns to his bedchamber.
Standing in front of the huge wardrobe which occupies most of the left-hand wall, the young magus inhales and closes his eyes momentarily in concentration. Any would-be onlooker would have to be extremely perceptive to notice the only evidence of his casting of The Invisible Eye Revealed - the faint rustle of clothing and the emerging bulge in his groin. After completing his magicks, he opens up the central door to the vast wardrobe. Even the large array of expensive garments within only seem to fill the huge wooden construct by half at best. No matter how much the vain magus adds to the selection of clothes, it never seems to be full enough... He frowns and makes a mental note to request some funds from Maria. Carefully, lovingly even, he pushes the garments across so that the left-hand half of the wardrobe is clear. He then takes up a small lantern and a folded velvet garment which lay prepared on his bedside table, before crouching to enter the wooden receptacle. The wardrobe door shuts behind him and a faint creaking sound is heard from within as he slowly makes his way to the far end. Still crouched on his haunches, Imanitos draws his hand across the wooden panel to the rear and finds the concealed door. He pushes it outwards and struggles through the gap into the blackness beyond.
In stark contrast to the room left behind, this small chamber has the bare minimum of furnishings. Imanitos holds up the lantern, whose flickering light barely manages to illuminate the rough black walls. There is no window to this room and the air is somewhat stale. The dark magus carefully steps around to light some of the candles around the room. This new light, although still subdued, is enough to illustrate the remaining details. On the far wall is a simple desk which bears a large stack of parchments as well as a quill and inkpot. Besides it is the spot which bears the emergency exit, although this has never been used, on account of the fact that it would ruin the large tapestry which conceals it on the other side. The recessed left-hand wall has two cubbyholes which conceal his secret stores of vis and several volumes of his diaries. Around the remainder of the chamber is a small selection of lab equipment, mostly dyes and inks and jars of various vile ingredients. The central part of the floor is bare, covered with the scuffed and faded remains of an occult circle.
Casting his quick eyes around the chamber, Imanitos can see that all is as he left it last time he was here. He takes a few paces over to the desk and withdraws a small leaden box from the drawer, before returning to place it in the centre of the chamber. He stands in front of it, composing himself and drawing himself up to his full height. Seemingly unbidden, the lid of the simple container opens to reveal an emptiness within. The silence is broken as Imanitos incants the harsh tones of the Devil's Tongue. "Attend me, my Servant, O Demon of Thievery!" There is an unpleasant sensation as the spiritually-tending fiend takes physical shape so that the foul grinning imp stands before his master. The magus holds forth the velvet container, and it unfolds to show that it is an elaborate purple bag, replete with drawstring, perhaps a quarter of the size of a pillowcase. Thin gold braid details the sigil of the magus on one side.
"My slave, it is time for you to prove your worth. You have lain hidden away for too many months. I have an important task for you which will enhance my glory and ultimately provide a more fitting abode for my Thralls. Fail in this task and you will feel my naked wrath, foul one." He pauses momentarily to garner his thoughts. "You will travel to the lapidiary on Silver Street in the nearby city of Perpignan. Go to the room accessed from the rear door of the main shop. Do not allow yourself to be seen. In the drawers you will find a quantity of cut gems." Imanitos' brow is faintly beaded with sweat. He hands the bag across to the foul creature, who snatches it with a slimy hand. "Fill this container with these gems, taking in preference the largest sapphires and diamonds, but in any case spend no longer than seven minutes going about your task. Then return it to me with all possible haste." The dark magus pauses once more, but his instructions are almost complete. "To reflect the difficulty of this task, I will reduce your indenture by the princely sum of fourteen points." He leans forward sternly to the demon. "Be grateful that your master is generous." He waves his hand in dismissal. "Go now, and set about your task, and do not think to waste my time with any side trips!" The imp bows in acquiesence and in a moment is gone.
The Malphit returns before dawn and hands over the velvet bag, with a comforting weight of gemstones within...
It is a few days after the council meeting of the winter solstice, and Maria hears a respectful knock on the door to her quarters. A nervous- looking servant is waiting there, and he bows when Maria answers. "Master Imanitos would like to meet with you in his quarters at your earliest convenience, Mistress Maria."
It takes a fair few minutes for the lame Maria to make her way to the top of the north tower. She is slightly out of breath as the staircase emerges into Imanitos' opulent hallway. There are a few comfortable chairs scattered around and a couple of faded tapestries adorn the walls. The room is warmed by a blazing fire which a servant is busy stoking up. A large sanctum marker covers a corridor leading off towards the centre of the chambers and another narrow corridor leads off ahead around the outside of the tower. Imanitos himself stands waiting, resplendent in a fine blue silken shirt, stroking the full beard which conveys a rather rogueish countenance upon him.
"Ah, Maria. Thankyou for coming." He gestures towards a sofa near the fireplace. "Please, take a seat." He walks over to a small table and pours a couple of glasses of mulled wine from a large silver bowl. He hands one to Maria before taking a seat opposite. With a wave of his hand he dismisses the servant, who scurries off downstairs.
The handsome magus warms his hands in the direction of the fire. "Ah... it has been a cold winter, has it not?" He pauses. "Anyway, you are probably wondering why I asked you here. Well, after the recent reorganisation amongst the Council, Salamandrus and I had been discussing... a few matters. It had occured to us that the withdrawal of the magi conditores and the promotion of so many socii conciliorum - yourself included - has created an imbalance within the hierarchy of the Council. What I mean is, there are eight Council posts given equal precedence, so that there are now too many magi praetores. It also seems to be the case that some of the Council positions do not actually involve much. For instance, the role of legatus Hermeticum seems to be rather spurious, with no disrespect intended to Laurent. However, some of the other posts, such as the ones which you and I possess, are rather more onerous. I am sure you've found that monitoring the finances of a place like this is an intricate and time-consuming task. Likewise with the job of the praefectus. Would it not be more fitting, then, that we should have a status which accurately reflects the responsibility which we hold?" He pauses to take a mouthful of wine, which he swills round his mouth in a moment or two of reflection.
"What we propose, then, is this: That we should create a new rank for those select few with the most burdensome responsibilities. This would be for the disceptator, praefectus and diocetes, and perhaps also either the librarius or admonitor. This rank would afford three votes at Council and a guaranteed yearly payment of vis in lieu of services rendered." He pauses again, to allow this to sink in, before continuing. "At the moment we have but a few socii conciliorum, and a large gaggle of magi praetores. If we were to promote, say, three of four of the praetores, then I believe we would have restored a more... even and elegant distribution to the Council hierarchy." He raises a questioning eyebrow towards the young maga. "What say you?"
Maria points out that Imanitos' job doesn't involve any work so his argument about services rendered for that isn't valid.
Imanitos smiles coldly. "My dear, I think you are mistaken. It is true that the position of disceptator is not easily quantified, but there are plenty of duties that I have to do, and the burden of responsibility that comes with being the titular head of the Council is a heavy one. For instance, am I not even now taking time out from my studies to seek your counsel on the smooth running of our covenant? And do not think that you are the only one whom I have been consulting. The job of the disceptator is a subtle and complex one, for there is much work that goes on behind the scenes to ensure that everything runs smoothly." He shrugs. "Most of this work goes unappreciated by the majority of the Council, but that is the nature of the job, I suppose."
"Those you speak of are done by choice not by job description. Your only duties according to the charter are to make sure the aegis is cast, to keep order in council meetings and make sure the decisions of the council are upheld."
"Yes, but it would be a very poor chairman who religously restricted himself to just those tasks. He has to consider the common good of the whole covenant, and, more than any of the other posts, must act on his own initiative to ensure that the integrity of the covenant is maintained. There has to be someone who investigates and brings up important matters for discussion before the whole Council. That is what I am doing now."
Maria resumes. "However it is a reasonable idea that needs working on. Ranking the jobs in order of time taken / amount of jobs I would reckon it would be: curator..."
"Pfagh!" Imanitos snorts. "That foolish brute Id only consorts with the Turb because they are on his own intellectual level. Any sensible curator would leave the running of the mundane affairs to the autocrat and the captain as they see fit - it should be a minor post of liason between those two and the Council only."
"However it is a job that is done day to day rather than once a season like the praefectus. The curator has the most responsability of all the posts if you read the charter."
"As I see it, he does nothing that is not already covered by either the captain of the guard or the autocrat. The covenant seems to function perfectly well without him when he spends his months and seasons away meditating in the forest, or whatever else it is he does."
Maria continues with her list. "...praefectus, diocetes, admonitor, librarius, and finally disceptator. The two legatus jobs are too variable to rate. But if Laurent has to go out to speak with faeries then it may be counted as covenant work."
Imanitos responds. "I believe we should be ranking the posts according to the responsibility which they grant (and hence the weight of their burden). Thus the disceptator, praefectus and diocetes are the most senior, since they cover the three most important resources of our covenant; the vis, the monies, and of course, most importantly, the magi themselves. Also of import, but with a lesser workload, are the admonitor and librarius."
Maria intervenes. "I think that the books are also one of the most important resources as are the mundanes. Without mundanes how would this covenant function, who would wait on you and serve your needs?"
"Truly, yes, as a place of learning our tomes are one of our most important assets. Nevertheless, they require virtually no upkeep, despite the perpetual organising and cataloging which Helena seems to delight in. As for the mundanes, however, they are merely a function of our wealth. Our servants will come and go through the decades, but the magi and the magic of this place will endure. If we have sufficient funds, we can always purchase more."
"But without money we would surely starve," Maria objects.
"Indeed, and I agree that the diocetes is one of the most important positions."
Maria continues. "We could survive without vis however it is a very precious resource that needs much overseeing else we lose it. We could survive without books but we wouldn't be much of a covenant without books. How can you weight the responsibilties, by the resource, by the time it takes to do the job, by the importance of what they look after to the covenant?"
"As has already been stated, the time spent on a post by an individual is a matter of personal preference and efficiency. I believe we should be weighting the posts according to burden of responsibility. If Id offends one of our covenfolk it is no big deal. But if some of our funds or vis go missing, then that is a matter for great concern. One can make a case for the admonitor and librarius, but they are principally positions of monitoring only. Most importantly, the whole Council would descend into chaos without the ministations of the disceptator, and so I contend that his position is of maximal import, the one for which the greatest subtlety and skill is required."
Imanitos tries a different tack, and there is a sly curl to his mouth. "Allow me to consider this from your personal perspective, Maria. I am sure that you have many important lab projects planned, for which a steady income of vis would be most welcome. In addition, an extra vote on Council would grant a stronger voice to those issues which you deem important, like the dreadful malaise which affects our land at present. Surely then, if we were to propose a change that would include your promotion, you would be favourably inclined?"
"I am not saying it wouldn't be a good idea, just the parameters need well defining."
"Before matters are brought to the Council, it is... helpful to have a clear picture of how the votes will fall." He leans forward intently. "What I am asking is this: With the proposal as it stands currently, would you vote yea or nay?"
"I would have to think about it. Perhaps when you have spoken to the others you can come back and `convince' me."
During winter, a few days after the solstice, there is a timid knock on the door to Saeed's chambers. Standing there is a young servant, who eyes the magus nervously when he arrives. "I have a message for you, Master Saeed. Master Imanitos would like to meet with you in his quarters at your earliest convenience."
The boy shows the Moorish magus up to the top floor of the north tower. The staircase emerges into Imanitos' opulent hallway. There are a few comfortable chairs scattered around and a couple of faded tapestries adorn the walls. A large sanctum marker covers a corridor leading off towards the centre of the chambers and another narrow corridor leads off ahead around the outside of the tower. Imanitos stands waiting, dressed in his usual finery, tugging thoughtfully at his full beard (which doesn't really suit him). He strides forward, dismissing the servant, who scurries off downstairs. He shakes the visitor's hand. "Saeed, my friend. Thankyou for coming."
Saeed gives a slight bow. "Well it is not often that I get such an intriguing invitation. And, I must admit, your recent travels have caused much speculation amongst our Sodalis."
"Ah yes, my little expedition. There is quite a story behind that trip, and the reason for my disguise." He gestures to his beard. "I would be happy to enlighten you, but perhaps we should leave that till later."
"Of course." Saeed smiles, "I must admit I did not think that you would grow a beard of such stature without due cause."
Imanitos gestures towards a sofa by the fireplace (where a warm fire is burning merrily). "Would you care for some mulled wine?" He pours two glasses, and hands one to Saeed before taking a seat opposite.
Saeed holds up his hand in refusal. "No thank-you, I do not partake."
After taking a swill of his drink, Imanitos begins. "Salamandrus and I have been discussing a few matters concerning the recent reorganisation amongst the Council. It had occured to us that the withdrawal of the magi conditores and the promotion of so many socii conciliorum has created an imbalance within the hierarchy of the Council. What I mean is, there are eight Council posts given equal precedence, so that there are now too many magi praetores. A top-heavy distribution, if you like."
Saeed nods in agreement.
Imanitos continues. "It also seems to be the case that some of the Council positions do not actually involve much. For instance, the role of legatus Hermeticum seems to be rather spurious, with no disrespect intended to Laurent. However, some of the other posts, such as the ones which you and I possess, are rather more onerous. I am sure that looking after all of the various items we have is a... skilled task, to say nothing of the responsibility which you hold. Likewise with the job of the praefectus. Would it not be more fitting, then, that we should have a status which accurately reflects the responsibility which we hold?" He pauses to take a mouthful of wine, which he swills round his mouth in a moment or two of reflection.
Saeed silently waits for Imanitos to continue, his head half shadowed by his robes.
"What we propose, then, is this: That we should create a new rank for those select few with the most burdensome responsibilities. This would be for the disceptator, praefectus and admonitor, and perhaps also either the librarius or diocetes. This rank would afford three votes at Council and a guaranteed yearly payment of vis in lieu of services undertaken." He pauses again, to allow this to sink in, before continuing. "At the moment we have but a few socii conciliorum, and a large conglomerate of magi praetores. If we were to promote, say, three of four of the praetores, then I believe we would have restored a more... even and elegant distribution to the Council hierarchy." He raises a questioning eyebrow towards the goateed magus. "What do you think?"
Saeed waits for a moment, mulling the words over before answering. "Your comments do have some merit, the council has recently become leaderless, so to speak. I mean no disprespect of course Imanitos, but the reins of leadership have yet to pass fully into your hands. We are like lost men in the desert, wandering around with no clear path before us. I agree that there are too many magi praetores at the moment, this has caused no small amount of scheming." He smiles at Imanitos, and steeples his hands in front of him, "What is needed is for the leadership, and responsibility of the covenant to become more... obvious. The proposal of yours, to effectively promote the positions of Disceptator, Praefectus and Admonitor is, I believe, fully justified in these times. The matter of promoting the Diocetes or Librarus has its draw backs though, if both are promoted then there will be another, large amount in this new rank which does nothing to solve the problem. But out of the two posts I can see no real way to distinguish them, the Diocetes has an onerous task to ensure that we are all fed whilst the Librarius maintains our knowledge."
Saeed folds his hands on his lap and leans back slightly, "I think that a... leading group of three Magi would serve the covenant well. There would be enough magi to control a large portion of the votes, and to ensure that all matters have at least one magus who will be inclined to see that they are discussed. It is also small enough to avoid the bickering and stalemates that may arise from a large membership." He pauses and coughs. "If I might trouble you for a glass of water?"
Imanitos walks over to a ewer by the window, and takes this opportunity to reply, back turned whilst filling the glass. "Yes, a triumvirate of Senior Magi would be ideal, I think. Five is too large, but Four would increase the chances of the proposal being accepted. I agree that there is little to decide between the librarius and diocetes, however." He returns and hands the glass over before retaking his seat.
Saeed waits patiently for the drink and then takes a few mouthfuls, "I am inclined to disagree with your final statement though, this matter of the guaranteed vis for these positions. The positions on the council already carry with them much prestige and the casting vote over matters under their jurisdiction. This, and the proposed increase in votes is enough for a job which, when it comes down to it, has to be done by someone. Not to mention the priority given to higher ranking magi in all matters, including choice of vis. This priority, I presume, is another benefit you would extend to this new rank?"
Imanitos nods in affirmation.
"I feel that this would just remove the incentive for these magi to participate in covenant work." He takes another sip from the glass and continues "If anything should be changed about the current vis distribution, I feel it should be the definition of covenant work. I think this should be extended to include necessary tasks which, although they do not detract from laboratory time, are dangerous or potentially dangerous." He pauses, "On the matter of the Legatus Hermeticum, the post does seem to be an unnecessary embellishment since all sodalis in the covenant act, in some way as an ambassador to whom ever they meet on their travels. I think that this post should be abolished, it is up to the covenant as a whole to improve our standing in the order. I also feel that no magus should be allowed to hold more than one post, even temporarily as a `caretaker', this is when the whole council should assume responsibility jointly."
Saeed sits back and places his glass near the fire, on the floor, "This, of course is my opinion, to summarise I feel that three posts be made, above the current magi praetores, affording three votes and priority with them. These posts should be for the Disceptator, Praefectus and Admonitor I think. The post of legatus Hermeticum should be abolished or perhaps merged with the legatus numina to become merely Legatus." He leans slightly forward, towards Imanitos. "I think I have said enough for the moment, do you have any comments?"
Imanitos' brows furrow in thought momentarily before he replies. "I must admit that I had not considered the issue of the legatus Hermiticum or of members holding multiple posts, but in both cases I believe you speak with much wisdom. I shall bring these issues before the Council in due course."
"Let me elaborate my ideas on the new rank of `Senior Magus' a little. As has been stated, this will grant three votes and the usual priorities over magi praetores and socii conciliorum over covenant resources. Now as regards payment for covenant work, my idea for the guaranteed payment is that it is in recognition for the fact that our onerous duties do constitute `covenant work', more so than any of the other posts. It would be a small payment only, say two pawns per year, so not enough to remove our need for performing additional covenant work... merely token reward for our efforts. I also propose that the rate of payment for a season of work would be a Rook - thus restoring an elegant balance to the rates of payment; 12, 10, 8 and 6 Pawns respectively."
Saeed, having sipped at his water during this monologue stirs forward, "I think that my first assumption of this guaranteed vis was inaccurate. I must apologise for jumping to conclusions before weighing all the facts. This minor payment seems justifiable, of course I expect this could be revoked in times of vis shortage."
Imanitos smiles. "Of course." As he pauses, he leans back and taps thoughtfully upon his pursed lips. "Let's look at the numbers. It looks like the magi conditores will be attending Council only rarely. So, ignoring them, we are left with sixteen votes. Assuming Salamandrus, you and I vote for, that gives us six votes. I will speak to Mordaleus, and I believe I will be able to persuade him to side with us, giving us seven. Also, our Redcap is often away on business, so in a Meeting chosen at a suitable time, we would have seven votes from fourteen, enough to pass the motion with my casting vote, even assuming all the others vote against." Imanitos leans forward again. "I assume I can count on your support with the proposal as it stands currently?"
Saeed having waited for Imanitos to finish, replies "When totalling the votes up I think that it is not actually necessary to wait for Laurent to leave for a suitable time, I have observed his voting before and he often abstains on matters which do not directly involve him. Also on this tack the vote could easily be called when Maria is out on one of her frequent trips, studying the spread of the plagues. This would make the votes seven from twelve, a majority." He sits back and stares into the fire for a while before continuing, "Of course, if the magi conditores are present your well laid plans could be for naught, remember our previous disceptator's aptitude for disguises." Saeed picks up his glass and says "I think that the proposal seems to be for the benefit of the council, and more importantly the covenant as a whole. You can count on my support as it stands."
Imanitos seems happy. "Excellent."
Saeed takes a mouthful and leans back on the sofa, "Now, perhaps I might persuade you to divulge this recent interest of yours into facial hair?" Imanitos also relaxes a little. "Do you recall the statement made by Primus Tertious at the Tribunal concerning the former archmage Aquilinius?" A self-satisfied expression crosses his face. "Well I was his informant." He pauses.
Saeed raises his eyebrows at this but says nothing.
"Allow me to explain. I had received a number of anonymous blackmail messages, and after an arranged meeting that went... badly wrong, it was clear that my life was in danger from this mystery conspirator. It therefore became necessary for me undertake a little espionage work, hence my disguise." He finishes his glass of wine. "To cut a long story short, I spent several months tracking this person down, using the few clues that I had. The subtlety of my magicks meant that I was more efficacious at this task than most. Anyway, I eventually located him in the city of Tlemcen in the Fatimid Sultanate. You can imagine my surprise when I found Aquilinius, whom I believed to have passed into Final Twilight! It transpired that his Twilight - after we fought in certamen in his cave under the sea some years ago - was only temporary, but that he had been transformed into an elemental creature composed of water. This entity, formerly known as Aquilinius, sometimes takes his former guise, although he can assume any appearance at will. His natural form now resembles something akin to a large watery serpent. Blaming me for his current state, it was he who had been trying to blackmail me. He is also adept at spying and manipulating mundanes, which is how he had been sending me these messages."
Saeed's expression changes little, but a few tell-tale marks betray some astonishment at the events unfolding before him.
"Having discovered all of this, I realised that I could not defeat this creature by myself. Instead, I returned home, whereupon I informed Tertious. Hopefully, House Flambeau are busy hunting him down as we speak - for I would rather that he doesn't have the opportunity to pursue his enmity with me. Well, that is the story - or at least an abbreviated version. Hopefully it explains my absence for several seasons, and the secrecy behind it."
Saeed stirs forward, "You speak of visiting Tlemcen in the Fatimid Sultanate, I once visited that place myself, many years back. It was with my master and I did not get to see much of it, tell me what is it like?", he seems to be half listening to Imanitos' answer, and half pondering over his tale.
Saeed's question seems to have caught Imanitos somewhat off-guard. The Jerbiton magus curses silently. "In truth I did not get to see much of the city either, for the spies of Aquilinius were numerous there. I crept in, saw what I needed to, and departed all within the space of a few hours. Like much of that area, the city was dry and dusty - I was unused to such conditions and was afflicted with a minor malaise which dulled my senses somewhat - I merely kept a low profile and made my way to the Street of Barrels as quickly as possible. He was hiding in a room above an oil presser's shop." When Saeed looks up, he notes that Imanitos looks slightly less relaxed.
After Imanitos finishes speaking, Saeed sips some water and then says "This talk of Aquilinius is somewhat... disturbing, I was also present at his chambers during your certamen and I fail to see why he has not involved me in any of his plots. Not that I have anything to hide, of course..." with a wry smile he drains the rest of his glass and leans back, once again staring into the fire.
"As the leader of that expedition, he seems to have singled me out for his insidious designs," Imanitos replies. "He threatened to make certain knowledge public - although these stories were lies, I was nevertheless keen to see that my reputation was not tarnished." He stands up. "All this talk has made me thirsty." He refills his glass with wine and supplies the Moorish magus with some more water, before resuming his seat.
Saeed nods his thanks for the refill and wets his lips. "It seems as though Salamandrus' accusations during the tribunal have acomplished much that Aquilinius might have wanted in this respect." Imanitos hears tones of disapproval in Saeed's voice. "I wish that this, shall I say, disagreement between you could be mended. Such a rift in the council could be dangerous if it grew. Still, as they say, Rome was not built in a day."
"That which occured at the Tribunal has been put behind us. I understand Salamandrus' reasons for bringing those accusations forward - as a Tremere he has a certain image to maintain. I can assure you there is no bad blood between us."
Saeed's disapproval disappears, "That is good."
Saeed gazes into the air thoughtfully and then looks quizzically at his urbane host, "What intrigues me is the amount of hospitality you have been showing recently Imanitos. Your chambers have been host to visits from the other magi more times since the retirement of the magi conditores than ever before. Surely you're not planning anything else to further your position?" he gives a speculative look at Imanitos' face "I often wonder what other... propositions are being made to the rest of the council, I mean it is not often that I am approached about such matters as we have discussed."
Imanitos spreads his palms wide in a gesture of innoncence. "I can assure you that my proposals are genuine. My foremost concern is the stability of the Council..." He smiles. "However, you will have observed that I am an... ambitious man. I do not deny the fact that the elevation of my personal status that comes with these proposals would be to my liking. It is also true that I have been consulting with some of the others about a few of these matters. But then that is my job as disceptator, is it not? There is plenty of work that has to go on behind the scenes to ensure that the whole Council runs... smoothly."
He continues, "As to why I have discussed these matters with you, well firstly you are the admonitor, which I believe to be one the foremost posts - as I have already said. But also, I do not believe that many of our peers would be ready for the extra responsibility that would come with promotion to the rank of Senior Magus. However I regard you as a man of much integrity and wisdom, and I think you are an ideal candidate for the job." Imanitos' expression bears a disarming smile, which still looks rather rogueish behind his beard.
"Your skill in flattery equals your knowledge in the arts my friend, but then you always were... an ideal candidate for the disceptator's position."
Saeed smiles briefly, and after a pause resumes speaking "Going back to the main reason for our discussion, I feel it prudent to warn you that I may be... how shall I put it, compelled to leave Malinbois for a while, for certain reasons. I am telling you so that any votes you wish my backing on may be taken sooner, rather than later. I think that I can postpone this journey for a couple of years though."
Imanitos raises a curious eyebrow, but sensing Saeed's reluctance to talk about the subject, does not question him.
Saeed puts his glass down on the hearth and then says "Well, I think I have said all that I feel needed to be said. Is there anything else you wish to talk about? Or perhaps you would like to just have a companionable chat for a moment or two longer."
Imanitos leans back into his comfortable chair. "I think we have covered everything. I would be happy to chat for a while." A wily look crosses his face. "Tell me, how are you getting on with Queen Eleri? I hear that she was quite interested in you..."
"Hmmm." Saeed chuckles slightly, blushing and smiles. "I suppose I walked right into that didn't I?" He sighs quietly. "Yes, she is interested in me but not, I fear for knowledge or friendship alone. I believe that she is more interested in the chase itself, so-to-speak." He looks thoughtfully at his host and sips his drink. "I am surprised that you have never joined me on my social visits, but then again I suppose that you are more interested in the... pursuit of happiness." He coughs delicately and changes subject. "What is your opinion of the younger members of the covenant? Francois, Vilmeid and the others? I presume that you have talked to them no doubt, which is more than I have done, all through my own doings though what with my recent sea voyage..." He tails off.
Imanitos leans back thoughtfully. "In truth I have not spoken to them much either. None of them seem very... politically active - hardly surprising for two Bjornaer and an Ex-Misc. Roland and Francois seem to be totally engrossed in their lab work, but Vilmeid seems to be quite a jolly chap..."
The following day, Imanitos briefly stops by at Maria's quarters to say a few words.
"Ah, Maria. About that matter I discussed with you yesterday. Well, I have spoken to some of the others, and in the light of their wisdom, I have decided to amend my proposal somewhat. All will become clear at Council in due course. Nevertheless, thankyou for your input." He nods his head briefly and walks off. "Good day."
Later on that day, Imanitos walks over to Mordaleus' quarters.
Imanitos considers shaking the hand of the alchemist, but decides against it when the foul smell hits him. His nose wrinkles involuntarily. "Mordaleus, my friend. How are you? I have come to solicit your opinion on a matter that I will be bringing before the Council in due course. It had occured to me that there is now an imbalance in the Council hierarchy with so many magi praetores. To restore... stability, I am proposing to grant the disceptator, praefectus and admonitor a new rank of `Senior Magus' which will afford three votes at Council, as well as a few other minor priveliges. Undoubtedly, this new Senior Council would regard your activities more favourably than the previous one did. By the way, unfortunately I am not able to remove the restriction on you proposing motions before the Council, but if there is a matter which you would like to bring up, you need only mention it to me, and I would be happy to propose it on your behalf..."
He pauses. "Anyway, about my proposal - With your vote, I believe we will be able to get this motion passed. Can I count on your support?"
"I'm more than happy to support you in your power struggle Imanitos, after all what are friends for. However I require a few things. First, since my research is into a critical stage I need your guarantee of continued funding."
"Rest assured that we will continue to support your work. In fact, it had occured to me that you seem to receive no payment for the items which you create for us - duties which would count as covenant work if you were a magus. This seems rather unfair." Imanitos' brows furrow in thought. "As I understand it, you have no need of vis, but maybe we could arrange a system whereby you are given monetary payment in lieu of your services? Say, a few hundred sous per season of covenant work?"
The alchemist considers this. "Second, I have a large shopping list. Could
you arrange collection of:
Imanitos frowns. "Some of these could be problematic. We can certainly
organise the covenfolk to collect some of the animals and common plants,
but I don't know if we'll be able to get many different types of moss,
for instance. However, there are Herbam specialists around - Fionn for
example - or failing that there is the master Herbam mage Tempsitius. If
need be, I am sure would could arrange the purchase of some of these
ingredients. I will bring it up before the Council."
Mordaleus continues. "I also need 10 oz of:
Imanitos waves his hand, becoming irritated with the alchemist, "We can
give you funds to purchase these items."
The one-eared man continues, unpeturbed. "...10 carats of:
A sly smile crosses Imanitos' face. "Ah, now the gems I probably can help
you with. I have - how shall we say - a certain business deal in the
offing... I may be able to supply you with all you need. Ask me again in
a month or two and I may well be able to help."
Mordaleus seems to ignore this, determined to finish off his diatribe. "Oh yes, I have looked into your request about something to help you lie. Unfortunately there is no stone that has those properties. However I can create you a compound made from snakes tongue. The effects will only last about a day though, and I need the snakes tongues of course."
Imanitos raises one eyebrow. "Hmmm, sounds interesting. I may come back to you about that one once I have procured the necessary ingredient. In exchange for the gems perhaps..."
The two continue their discussion for quite a while. On account of the fact that the diocetes is not to be promoted, Mordaleus wants a guarantee of continued funding. Imanitos promises to propose a motion, but cannot offer a guarantee. By way of a counter-proposal, the alchemist suggests that perhaps he should be given two votes...
Imanitos stops by at Saeed's quarters the next day for a few words.
Saeed is standing in front of the anvil, next to the glowing coals in the forge. He is beating a curved iron pole flat as Imanitos enters and ceases when he sees him.
"Ah, Saeed. Doubtless you will recall the matter I discussed with you yesterday. In order to ensure Mordaleus' support with our proposal, it has been necessary to offer him a few concessions. At the moment, he does not seem to be getting paid for his work for the covenant - which I must say seems rather unfair. I have suggested that he be paid in money (at an equivalent seasonal rate) so that he can purchase his ingredients. Also, he desires an additional vote on Council. Given that he has been around for quite a while, and has made many valuable items for us, this does not seem unreasonable. Would you be willing to support such a proposal?"
Saeed frowns slightly, he walks over to the trough in his forge and pours out two cups of water, "I am afraid I only have water to offer you Imanitos..." He takes a sip from his and then replies, "I feel that the work Mordaleus has done for the covenant has not been that great. Not enough to warrant an extra vote on the council. I feel that most other members of the covenant would be likewise inclined, in fact some have mentioned their opinion on the work load which comes with the disceptator's position, notably to state the lack of it. As stated in the charter, the only duties you have are to keep order in the council meetings, enforce the decisions of the council, and to ensure that the Aegis of the Hearth is cast. These are hardly onerous duties, you must admit." He takes another sip from his cup and adds some more coal to the forge. "I have been thinking on this since yesterday, and since others have approached me. Perhaps it would be better to weed out the less difficult positions rather than promote the more influential posts... we could create a new rank just above the socii conciliorum with the extra vis for covenant work, but without the extra vote. This would be for the less demanding posts, like the Legatii, and Librarius say. Of course these are merely hastily made, and rough alternatives. If you still wish to increase your voting block then I feel that you may be made to accept more duties as disceptator." Saeed pumps on the leather bellows attached to the forge causing the coals to glow red. "Coming back to Mordaleus' wishes, I would have to vote against an extra vote for him, this would work against your initial idea of reducing the largely equal number of votes, also if we do reward him even further for short-term potions with various... side effects, some of which are not that pleasant, then what is to stop the main consors from also being eligible for this. After all the consors do play a more active role in the running, and well-being of Malinbois, more so than the Alchemist who makes potions which are occasionally used." He takes another sip from his drink and wipes his brow, Imanitos can feel the heat from the coals, even from the doorway. "No, I think the increase in votes has to stop somewhere. I would vote for the increase in three posts, as long as that was all there was. That and the merging of the two Legatii posts. The covenant has had enough turmoil during the last year, it is time for things to settle down again. I would not put it past you to offer Mordaleus the extra vote and money, which I doubt we can afford especially if you wish to maintain the present standard of living, just to get his vote for your extra vote, and then vote against his increase..."
Imanitos smiles. "It is true that some of my methods are rather... unorthodox, but a stunt like that would be a bit low, even for me. Of course I respect your opinion that Mordaleus should not be promoted. I only mentioned to him that I could put forward a proposal to that effect - I did not imagine that it would have any realistic chance of being passed. In any event, it would hardly be fitting that a mere alchemist be given more influence than a socius conciliorum, would it?" Imanitos feels distinctly overdressed in the oppresive heat. Feeling lightheaded, he loosens his collar. "No, my friend, I do not value Mordaleus that highly, although I have to say I do think you belittle him slightly. He has become quite skilled in his many years of labour - I suspect he may even have some means of harvesting vis from natural substances - and he has crafted some useful items for us." Imanitos scratches his eyebrow as something occurs. He continues, half to himself, "Ah, but then you are a Verditius, are you not?..."
Imanitos continues. "Your other ideas are of interest... I will perhaps mull over them for a while." He pauses, trying to think of something else to say, but the unpleasant surroundings have curtailed his conversational skills. He stands silently watching the smith at work for a few moments.
Saeed pauses in his tending of the coals and smiles at Imanitos "By the way, I fear that you have turned Maria against you with your talk."
Imanitos drains his glass thirstily in the heat and shrugs. "That is the nature of the disceptator's job, I suppose. You cannot please all of the people all of the time. I am used to others viewing me with distrust, one gets used to it after a while. I'm sure Maria will come round eventually..." He sets his glass down. "I must admit I am feeling rather hot in here, so I will leave you to your labour. I merely wished to solicit your opinion regarding Mordaleus. You need have no fear that I will seek to elevate him beyond his station."
Saeed pauses in his beating and looks up "I do not mean to belittle Mordaleus' work Imanitos, but if everyone was given a vote for helping the covenant then I fear that most of the votes would pass from Magi to the coven folk." He smiles ironically, "After all it is not always in our best interest to take time out from our own projects. All of us are somewhat selfish."
Imanitos nods in agreement. He takes a few steps towards the doorway and turns back again. "Feel free to call by at any time if you wish to discuss this further." He nods his head briefly. "Until later, then."
Saeed nods his head, "Until later," and then continues with his work.
Several minutes after Imanitos returns to his own chambers after talking to Saeed, there is a quiet knock on the door.
Imanitos emerges from his Sanctum and crosses the hallway towards the staircase, buttoning up his silk shirt as he does so.
Standing on the stairs is a short young woman with black hair to her shoulders. There is a short pause as Imanitos remembers her name, Assumpta, the newest member and still probationary. She speaks quietly and leans against the door frame as she does so, "Might I have a few words with you about Covenant work Imanitos?"
Imanitos raises a curious eyebrow. "Certainly, my dear." He gestures inwards to the well-furnished airy room. "It's not much, but I call it home. Please, take a seat." As the young maga walks in, Imanitos strolls over to his drinks cabinet. "Would you care for some wine? Or perhaps something a little more... fortified?"
After catering to her needs, Imanitos stokes up the fire and takes a seat opposite. His face bears a disarming smile. "So... what can I do for you?"
She takes a large draft from her glass and savours the taste. "An excellent quality Imanitos, it is true about your taste." She lounges backwards, draping one arm over the back of the sofa and rolls the glass stem between her fingers, "As a probationary member I'm sure you're well aware of the work I have to do before gaining the status of `Good Standing', since the council meetings recently have been slightly preoccupied with other matters I thought I might consult you directly about projects for covenant work." She pauses and drains the rest of her glass. "I was wondering if you could tell me of future projects, so that I might tailor my studies so that I could be more capable in this work?" She lifts the glass up, realising before she drinks that it is empty, stops and, with finger and thumb rubs her eyes either side of her nose. Imanitos can see dark circles around her eyes and the untidy clothing which seems to have been thrown on without much care. Assumpta looks at Imanitos, waiting for a reply.
Imanitos casts a curious eye over the young maga, his expression becoming slightly disapproving at her casual attire. As if to make this point, he absently straightens the collar of his fine shirt. "Ah, covenant work. I think you will find that this is mostly a matter of routine. In the past, previous members have most often investigated or enchanted items, scribed some of their knowledge into our library, or have been present on covenant expeditions." He sips at his drink, placing his half-full glass down on the table beside him. Again, there is a slightly disapproving glance at Assumpta's completed drink, but nevertheless he stands and walks over to the drinks cabinet again. "I think you will find that it is not necessary to tailor your studies with the objective of covenant work in mind. Rather, you are assigned duties which fit your particular strengths and weaknesses." He refills Assumpta's glass and deposits the bottle by its side. "Please, help yourself."
"Why thank-you" She smiles, and pours another glass.
Resuming his seat, he continues. "Nevertheless, if you do wish to tailor your studies, I think that you will find that improving your knowledge of the Art of Vim will prove to be most of use - either for creating or investigating magical items - and we do indeed have several worthy tomes in our collection." He pauses in thought. "As I recall, you are well versed in the Art of Fire. Maybe you could scribe a tome containing some of your spells, for I fear our library is rather lacking in that area. Failing that, I'm sure your talents would be put to good use on an expedition or two." Imanitos again sips at his drink. "Well, I hope that has given you an idea or two. I'm afraid I cannot think of any specific projects we have planned - not unless you would be willing to dedicate many seasons to the study of magical auras, say. Anyway, please feel free to put forward any ideas you have. The Council is usually quite generous with regard to what is approved as covenant work for new members."
Assumpta drinks some more wine, and reflects upon the disceptator's words, "I think that I will, perhaps scribe some of my spells down. I notice that the Library seems somewhat... neglected," here she frowns, "and I have a few new spells I can contribute. Apart from that I think I shall wait and see what comes up." She finishes her wine off and slowly stands up, "Well, I think I have got what I came for, also I thought it best to make myself known to the council members. No doubt I will be visiting the rest of them sooner or later. My thanks for your time, and the refreshment. Perhaps I could offer you some in return when I have my laboratory arranged and stocked up." She walks over to the door, "I shall see you at the next council meeting then."
Having expected another topic of conversation to be initiated by the new maga, Imanitos' suspicion is immediately aroused. It seems strange that she should come only to discuss such a trivial matter - and it would hardly be surprising for a Tytalus maga to have an ulterior motive...
As Assumpta walks towards the door she smiles, facing away from Imanitos. She had guessed that he was expecting something else to come up, let's hope that he was left wondering.
Imanitos stands, but his visage does not betray his thoughts. "Feel free to come by any time." He silently sponts an Intellego Vim spell to detect the presence of any active magicks that his visitor may have initiated. He shows Assumpta to the door. "Until later, then."
The small Tytalus maga nods her head to her gracious host as his spell fails to reveal anything exceptional. She then swiftly walks down the stairs.
After the departure of his guest, Imanitos stands alone in his lounge, still feeling somewhat unnerved. He returns to the place where the maga was sitting, and performs a thorough inspection, removing cushions to look for any items left behind, and closely examining the glass she drank from. He sniffs at the half-empty bottle of wine and makes a mental note to return it to the servants to drink. Finally, he finishes up with a casting of The Invisible Eye Revealed before, seemingly satisfied, he returns into the depths of his Sanctum...
Imanitos has a message waiting for him when he gets back. A teenage boy arrived by horse a week ago with a message. He has been waiting for your return. He is dressed in fine clothes and a dagger is tucked into his belt.
"Imanitos Mendax," he begins in faltering Latin. From his accent you can tell he is not from France. Perhaps Spain?
"I bring message," he says, holding out a scroll to you. "Voran say you give money me." He is waiting holding out his hand.
Eyeing the boy suspiciously, Imanitos takes the parchment and cradles it awkwardly in his left arm (still held in a sling after his injury), before giving it a cursory examination.
Unfurling the scroll (which has no seal) you see that the scroll is written in an unfamiliar script, perhaps Arabic or Greek.
Imanitos fastens it up again and stows it away safely beneath his surcoat. With his right hand, he withdraws a silver coin from within his doublet, but stands for a moment staring contemplatively at the stranger, absently twirling the coin between his fingers. (He is casting Frosty Breath of the Spoken Lie.) Imanitos speaks loudly and clearly so that the boy will understand, holding out the coin, but not yet depositing it in the boy's palm. "Tell me, my boy. Where exactly was it that you said you come from?" He fixes the boy with a penetrating stare.
"I come to you". You think that he didn't understand too clearly.
Imanitos sighs, and withdraws the coin slightly into his fist. He repeats the question, with exagerrated gestures. "Where - are - you - (gesturing at him) - from?" He stares impatiently at the boy.
"I from Harcia" (soft c) (the truth)
"I see." Imanitos ponders this for a moment. "And - who - is - your - master? Vor-an - or was it perhaps Vor-i-en?" Again he toys with the coin tantalisingly.
"Master, father he show me builded boats."
Imanitos frowns. "I see." He places the coin in the boy's palm, and holds a single digit aloft. "One - coin - now." He raises his palm in a halting gesture. "You - wait - here, and - I - give - you (gesturing to the boy) - message (pointing at the scroll) - for - Voran. Then - I - give - you - two (holding up two fingers) - coins. Comprendez?"
Imanitos walks away from the confused lad towards the east tower, but turns back and points towards the guest quarters. "You - wait."
If/when finished with the boy, Imanitos will leave and examine the scroll in a little more detail. He realises that he cannot understand it, but recalls that Maria is somewhat of a scholar, being able to scribe several languages. He heads off for her quarters to see if she is in.
"Ah Imanitos, what brings you here? Is your shoulder still giving you problems?"
"No, keep your hand pressed there or the bleeding will never stop" she says to one of the grogs who seems to be in bad shape from a stomach wound.
Imanitos nods deferentially as he enters. "Maria." He smiles disarmingly. "No, my shoulder is fine thank you. It is concerning a different matter that I have come to consult your skills." He gestures forth with the parchment. "I have an intriguing little piece of text in an unfamiliar script that I thought you might be able to help me with. Unless you are too busy of course? - in which case I shall ask our esteemed librarian..."
"Well after your last visit I'm not sure that I should trust you one bit. You went running to Saeed as soon as I questioned your motives and brought him into your double dealings instead."
Imanitos feigns a hurt expression. "My dear Maria, I think you judge me a little harshly..." He projects a wide-eyed look of innocence. "I am truly sorry if I have offended you."
Whilst she is distracted, the grog has taken it on himself to try and get up. There is a thump, indicating the success of his actions.
"Damn! Imanitos give me a hand" she says in a rather commanding tone.
Imanitos sighs, and stows the parchment away again. Looking over to the burly grog, he decides against trying to restrain him by force. Instead, he glances at the soldier for a brief moment, and the man slumps back down, with a sigh, asleep.
He coughs delicately to try and regain Maria's attention. "Ah, perhaps this is not the best time. Should I call again later? Maybe you would like to join me for dinner thisevening?"
"Well since you are here you might as well tell me about your next devious plan. It will save me having to find it out from Laurent."
She carefully lifts the grog back onto the table and proceeds with the incision across his stomach.
Imanitos casts a curious eye over the operation. "If you mean do I have any surprises for the council, then the answer is no, I don't think so, not at present. The restructured hierarchy seems to be working very smoothly, and in any case we seem to have more... urgent matters on our hands at the moment." He tails off, and watches the surgeon at work for several minutes.
He tries to conceal his impatience, and interjects when the procedure seems to be complete. "Perhaps if you could just take a look at the parchment if you have time?"
"Very well Imanitos, though no doubt I'll regret it. Leave it there." she gestures to a table with a bloody hand.
"I will look at it when I have some time."
Imanitos dodges out of the way of the spatters of blood flying from Maria's hand and just manages to avoid getting his brand new attire soiled. He prudently steps backwards, and smiles cautiously. "Ah... well this is a rather delicate matter, and I would prefer not to let this parchment out of my sight." He handles the scroll protectively. "However I can see that you are currently occupied, so I will trouble you no further for now. I shall come back another time." He glances at the patient before turning away. As he stalks out of the room the grog moans in awakening.
Imanitos will come back in a day or so and try again. He will find Maria's servant and get him/her to keep an eye on Maria. Not spying or anything, he will merely "persuade" the servant to tell him when she doesn't appear to be busy...
"Very well. Give it to me then."
She places the scroll on the table and examines the script.
"It seems to be some sort of Arabic script. I have studied some of the writings. Let me see."
She begins to sound out the words in Arabic, much to the annoyance of Helena who is trying to work in one corner.
Imanitos stares blankly as she speaks the unfamiliar tongue. He interjects after what sounded like the first sentence. "What does that mean?" Maria notices that Imanitos' right hand is still holding the top of the parchment, seemingly unwilling to release it.
"It begins Imanitos, my friend. I was so... There is a word here I do not know."
"This could take some time. Perhaps if you were to fetch Saeed things would be quicker." she says to Imanitos. "I do not know whether he can read this script but the translation would be more exact."
Imanitos reclaims the script. "Very well, perhaps I shall consult him on this matter. Nevertheless, thankyou for your time." He gets up and heads for the door. "Until later, then." He heads down in the direction of Saeed's floor...
Saeed's head is just visible above floor level, as he stands inside a large, deep pit. He is bare from the waist up and there are beads of sweat over his well-muscled chest. Apart from Abul, there is no-one else in the room.
Imanitos greets him cordially. He is wearing a voluminous dark robe over a brand new navy blue satin doublet, and is clutching a scroll. "Saeed my friend. How are things? I haven't really had the chance to talk since your little trip. I have heard some interesting stories about your new familiar, by the way."
Saeed puts down the shovel he is holding and climbs out of the hole. He mops his brow and looks Imanitos up and down. "I thought that you might drop in sometime" he smiles and rubs his chin thoughfully. "Would you like a drink? I have some nice wines from the Levant..."
Imanitos casts a speculative eye over the Moorish magus. "Certainly."
Saeed talks to Abul in Arabic and he scurries off out of the far door. "I see that the rumour mill is just as efficient as usual. Perhaps we could sit and talk about these stories for a while."
Imanitos smiles. "Of course." He is lead over to the corner and takes a seat. His expression then becomes rather serious.
"The reason for my visit is not wholly a social one, however." He gestures with the parchment. "I have a little piece of Arabic text which I thought perhaps you could translate for me?"
Saeed raises an eyebrow, "I never took you for a scholarly bookreader Imanitos." He smooths down his trousers, "But I am sure that there is more to this than meets the eye, as usual."
Abulerahman enters the room holding a tray with a fine glass flask, a carved wooden jug and two silver goblets. Saeed pours himself some water from the jug and then waves the boy over to Imanitos "Please try the wine, I am sure you will enjoy it."
"Thankyou." Imanitos pours himself some of the wine and delicately sniffs at it before tasting it. "An interesting bouquet." He swills it around in his mouth as if savouring it. He offers up no comment, but merely nods slightly with one eyebrow raised, although whether this is a gesture of approval Saeed is not sure.
After waiting for Imanitos to help himself Saeed speaks "I would be interested in this script you speak of. Perhaps you could enlighten me further."
"Well actually I am rather in search of enlightenment myself - the parchment was delivered by a peculiar Spanish boy yesterday. I eventually managed to determine where he was from and what his master's name was, but it is still a mystery to me. I cannot think why anyone would want to send me an Arabic script." He gives a brief, ironic smile. "Well, that is not quite true, I have my suspicions of course. But I would prefer to hear what the message has to say before speculating." He rests back with a questioning look towards his host.
"Of course. A wise man does not trust the mirage, but saves his water, as they say." Saeed smiles and a reflective look comes into his eyes as he thinks back. "I have heard some rumours myself, but I find them hard to believe."
He leans back against the dusty work top and sips at his drink. "I think that I could be persuaded to translate it" He smiles.
"Excellent." Imanitos stands and hands over the parchment. He does not sit down again, however, but takes up a position standing behind Saeed. He seems to be rubbing his lip thoughtfully.
Saeed's firm tones chant out as he reads the script, he falters halfway through and stops. His expression is hidden from the Magus behind him, but his cheek muscles tense slightly. Saeed takes a sip from his goblet and then resumes reading.
"I think that your suspicions may well be founded in truth, my friend" Saeed looks up at his apprentice and speaks to him in Arabic, Abul looks puzzled but bows and leaves. "I think that it may be better to discuss the rest of this letter in more private surroundings?" He gestures to the door leading into his meeting room.
Imanitos' eyebrows narrow. "Very well." He follows the large man into the other room, closing the door behind him. He takes a seat opposite. "I had suspected the subject matter of this message might be such that it is best discussed in private." He leans forward intently, resting his chin upon his fists. "Please continue."
Saeed sits down opposite Imanitos, a troubled look on his face. He studies the Disceptator's face as he speaks "This is a disturbing letter. The basic content orders you to give certain things to whoever sent it before a certain, revealing letter reaches Magvillus."
Imanitos' expression darkens further. "A not entirely unexpected development. Our old friend, the entity formely known as Aquilinius, is seemingly up to his old tricks again." He spends a moment or two in brooding thought, tapping his finger against his lip. "Clearly I will have to study this message in more detail - can you give me a more detailed translation?"
Saeed clears his throught and then recites from the letter...
"Imanitos my friend, I was so disappointed that you were not able to go to Quorm. The stakes have now gone up. There is a letter on its way to Magvillus which I am sure they will find very interesting. To stop its delivery you will bring arcane connections to all the magi at your covenant plus as much vis as you have to Quorm in 6 weeks hence. This is not a game as I am sure you will know."
Every now and then he looks up to observe Imanitos' reaction.
Imanitos says nothing as the message is translated, but merely stares at Saeed through narrowed brows, a darkening expression upon his face. There is a long pause after the goateed magus finishes, after which Imanitos eventually rests back again in his seat. There is an irritated curl to his mouth. "Humpfh. As I suspected..." He suddenly stands up, and Saeed can see that his fists are balled tightly. With measured control, he reclaims the parchment in his right hand, deliberately crumpling it. "Action will have to be taken on this matter. Nevertheless, thankyou for your time Saeed." He strides out of the chamber, an expression like thunder upon his face. As Imanitos steps out into the courtyard, Saeed can hear the commotion even from inside. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" There is a shriek, and the clattering sound of a tray being dropped. Heavy footsteps retreat in the direction of the east tower.
It is a sealed scroll (written in Latin) labelled:
As to your blackmail, I say this to you: That the fools at Magvillus will not believe the word of one such as you, and in any case I have precautions in place. Do your worst then, beast, you will get no profit from me. I'll see you in Hell,
M
Concerning Imanitos' debt to his master... No doubt you will recall that this was a Rook of aesfoetida, to be paid by Spring 1240. Well, in Spring 1239, Imanitos has enough to repay this. (Unlike with the quaesitores, Imanitos doesn't want to leave this debt till the last minute!) Delivery will be by DHL (Demonic Haulage Ltd) courtesy of Imanitos' Malphit. (Imanitos really ought to come up with names for his thralls, like Trevor or something ;-) ) It will be a case of tightly packing ten small phials into a small wooden box before handing it over to the imp. Usual sort of instructions, something like the following:
"Take this case and travel to the tower of Vorien Tectus at the Covenant of Doissetep, travelling at the fastest speed you are capable of and taking no sidetrips. Wait until Vorien Tectus is alone and in a favourable mood - but do not wait upon his mood for more than a day - and make yourself known to him. Deliver up the case and tell him that Imanitos Mendax sends his greetings, and delivers payment of his debt as promised. Wait until he gives you a message or dismisses you. If he gives you a message, remember it precisely. Then return here as fast as possible, taking no sidetrips, and report to me in this chamber."