HLoM: The Firebird, Prologue

[NeoTiamat]

This was a much briefer meeting than Lena had planned on, and it was with effort that the young woman avoided gritting her teeth. Vasili von Holtz was really the most damnably difficult man to catch. She threw out one last hook before he left, though it was without much hope.

"A pity indeed. I don't suppose I'll be able to see you again sometime soon?" Lena said, turning her face upwards, with hope in her eyes.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"He is my-my guest, father," Richard replied, in a quiet, even tone.

"Your guest..."

Alice appears at the doorway, her face dark; catching sight of her, Lord Blackwood bites back his continuation. Marcel has stood and makes a polite bow to Richard's father, his face carefully blank of expression. Lord Blackwood forgoes further speech, instead gesturing Marcel toward the door with rather more emphasis than could be considered polite. Bowing again, the anchorite gives Richard a look of apology. "A great pleasure to see you again, Miss Blackwood, " he says to Alice politely, "All best, Richard. I apologize for my unwitting intrusion, Lord Blackwood."

"Witless indeed," Richard's father hisses. Marcel's expression of polite regret slips for a moment, but he bites back any reply and makes for the door. Giving him a few moments to make his getaway, Adrian gestures emphatically to Richard. Walk with me.

[Nathan of the FoS]

This was a much briefer meeting than Lena had planned on, and it was with effort that the young woman avoided gritting her teeth. Vasili von Holtz was really the most damnably difficult man to catch. She threw out one last hook before he left, though it was without much hope.

"A pity indeed. I don't suppose I'll be able to see you again sometime soon?" Lena said, turning her face upwards, with hope in her eyes.

"Perhaps! Though I don't dare expect to be so fortunate. Good afternoon, milady. Good afternoon, Ushka." And with that, Von Holtz is out the door and striding off to whatever business of the Count's he must attend to next.

[NeoTiamat]

Lena watched him go, and blew out a small breath. How was she supposed to stay mad at him when he remembered Ushka's name.

"Someday..." Lena scratched her fox behind the ears, which prompted the familiar to wiggle a bit. "I am going to get through to him if I have to sneak in through his bedroom window."

Ushka twitched one ear. She'd seen Lena try to sneak before. No way was that ending well.

"Maybe you're right." Lena sighed, then glanced at the letter. Well, time to go back to her own rooms in a different inn, and then see just what this message said.

[DeepShadow of FoS]

I've always thought it must be rather grand to be able to fly, myself."

Vasili nods and sighs. Renhalt was right, as usual. They walked together in silence for a moment, until a small feline form pounced on Vasili's shoulders.

"Well, well?!" Leila demands, looking from one man to the other. "Isn't someone going to clue me in? Bad enough you leave me out here, but then you make me wait longer?"

[Isabella]

It actually took Richard a moment to realize he ought to be offended at the anchorite's poor treatment - but this result was so much better than expected, he almost walked out the door without thinking about it. Chagrined, he shot Marcel an apologetic look and made something that might have passed for a bow. "I-I-I am sorry... Fare-farewell," he murmured, before hurrying after his father. There would be many more apologies made later, but for now, Richard could not muster up any feeling beyond something akin to relief. But he'd always had a cold heart, he supposed.

It was only after everyone had made their escape, and the pair had gone outside, that Richard's demeanor turned cold and stern. The Mordent fog had rolled in after the rain, and as the mists swirled around them, Richard's eyes angrily shifted to match them. He folded his arms over his chest, and did not speak.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Well, well?!" Leila demands, looking from one man to the other. "Isn't someone going to clue me in? Bad enough you leave me out here, but then you make me wait longer?"

"Oh, hush, Leila," Renhalt says, smiling. "Surely you can wait five minutes for good news. It went very well. I'm sure the Jarenberg was impressed. I know I was. I'm sure he'll call me in to talk about our options in the next day or two, and he'll probably call for Vasili again within the week." He sighs, then says, "I can't imagine Uncle will be too excited about recruiting calibans and dwarves...well, calibans anyway, the dwarves aren't as problematic. But we need the money. The Name knows, we need the money."

[Nathan of the FoS]

"I cannot believe...I cannot believe...that you would invite that person beneath my roof," Lord Blackwood begins, without preliminaries, quite calmly but with a hard, brittle edge running under the words. "A vagabond, a stray. Our Lady may take in such, her attention is capacious, but to be the friend of a Blackwood? Still, that would be a small thing, I would let it pass, Ezra knows you've brought home worse. I think. But he's also a person I had strictly forbidden the house. Did you forget this? Do you not care? Is this only one more way for you to thumb your nose at your father, as well as the dignity of your family name?"

Lord Blackwood looks hurt, as much as angry, as he continues. "I have tried to understand you, Richard. Ezra knows I've tried. I let you go to Dementlieu, much against my better judgement, in the hope that seeing the world would make you value this place, your place, the place you were born to hold and the land that you will inherit. It seems that you care for it as little as ever."

[Isabella]

"And will-will this ever be your opinion of me? That every action I-I take is-is-is-is some calculated affront to you, to-to my family, my name?" Richard asked in a similarly controlled, and similarly anguished, voice. "No, I-I do not care, and I shall never care for any place that demands I-I-I so wholly ignore both a man's good character and his good station! This-this-this 'vagabond' is a-a-a man of the church, and-and so am I, or d-did you forget this? By every, every right I should call this man brother, by every right he-he-he is my superior! What is it you would-would have of me? Is the name of-of Blackwood now more discerning than that of Ezra? Does-does-does our good breeding by blood excuse us from, from any semblance of good breeding b-by manners? By Ezra, father! He wanted only to-to pay his respects! The fault was-was mine, for not asking him t-to go, I-I-I admit this! I-I-I should not have disobeyed your-your wishes for your own house, I-I ad-admit this freely! That you would treat him in-in such a manner, just-just-just for the crime of ignorance-!"

Richard stopped and took a breath, to make it easier for him to speak.

"Is it-is it truly any quality of his that is so-so objectionable to the name of Blackwood?" he continued, in a tighter and quieter voice. "Or is it-is it myself that taints him by association?"

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Is it-is it truly any quality of his that is so-so objectionable to the name of Blackwood?" he continued, in a tighter and quieter voice. "Or is it-is it myself that taints him by association?"

"For the last time, Richard, you do not have an ecclesiastical vocation," Adrian notes wearily. "You will someday, Ezra help us all, sit in the House of Lords as Lord Blackwood. And what is to become of us then, with a Boritsi* as the head of state and the Commons growing rowdier and more Dementlieuse by the day and you and your generation coming to the fore, hardly bears thinking of.

"As for who has tainted whom, well, I would not object as strongly to...that man...if he had not done that." Lord Blackwood gestures with a mix of disdain, dismissal and disgust at the scarified scrollwork just visible at Richard's wrists and hands. "I know you claim to have persuaded him to it, but I don't doubt he was eager to practice his disgusting, pagan...arts on you. As if you were some Hazlani wizard."

Lord Blackwood snorts in sour amusement as he voices this thought. "Hazlan! That's the place for you, with your scars and your yearnings for the worst sort of friends and for vagabondage. You even have a Hazlani friend from your time in Dementlieu, don't you? Well. Perhaps that would make you appreciate Mordent. Take my advice and be out the door tomorrow, en route to Hazlan."

Having unburdened himself of this striking paternal advice, the old nobleman turns back toward the house.

*For purposes of this campaign, Gennifer Weathermay-Foxgrove eventually knuckled under to the demands on her station and married Bevel Boritsi, who took his wife's name out of respect for the feelings of the Mordentish but who is still, well, a Boritsi! And we all know what THAT means.

[Nathan of the FoS]

The letter holds three sheets of exquisitely white, heavy paper, the kind made in Vallaki for the use of the Count and available to the public at the price of one gold piece for a dozen sheets; one is blank, one is a note of hand for five hundred wolf’s-fangs to be drawn from the treasury office in Immol from state funds, and the last reads as follows:

To our esteemed cousin, Baroness Elena von Zarovich:

Certain noble families in the west of Hazlan have communicated to us that they wish our assistance in rising against their master Hazlik and achieving his overthrow. This goal seems to us to be highly desirable, but its feasibility remains in question. We therefore desire you to travel to Vestrdyrr with all due dispatch, there to meet with representatives of the House Isfahani and the House Jarenberg, on the summer solstice of this year. You are to begin negotiations regarding our lending our strength to their cause, to observe conditions in their territories and in Hazlan generally, and to assess their ability to carry out the project they have imagined.

You will have considerable leeway in determining your own methods and priorities, but we desire especially that you begin by learning as much as possible about the following:

The border fortifications along the Mage’s Way, in particular those of the Helholt;
The character and disposition of our notional allies, Isam Jarenberg and Nezar Isfahani;
The character and disposition of Anatoli Jarlsen, Hazlik’s governor in Vestrdyrr, and those around him;
The character and disposition of Yarek Thott, master of the Helholt, and those around him.

You will undertake this assignment as a private person; Ambassador von Petrov has been informed of your presence in the country and will render assistance as possible, but you will not have formal diplomatic status. You may explain your presence as an agent of the Immol Foundry, investigating the possibility of a new business contract with the Bergsforg and Eizer Kanet mines. If you prefer to work under the character of a Kartakan or Nova Vaasan visitor to the country, as rumors of Barovian and Nova Vaasan agents in Hazlan are now rife, please inform Baron Vasili von Holtz immediately so that arrangements can be made for this circumstance.

You may report by means of the writ of communication here enclosed, which will communicated with both Ambassador von Petrov and Baron von Holtz. Also enclosed is a note for funds to prepare for your departure.

Signed,
Strahd von Zarovich
Twelfth of His Name, Count Regnant and Prince without Peer of Barovia, Gundarak and Environs, Master of the Wolfwood, and High Thane of the Forfarian Marches

[Kaitou Kage]

Altan listened quietly as Nezar spoke. He learned years ago to keep his feelings suppressed around higher ranking people like Nezar. Cooperation got one further in life than unnecessary outspokenness.

"Our desires will never stop burning," Altan said. "We nurture them like a mother nurtures her child."

I will stand beside you when we move. You have my loyalty, now and forever.

[Isabella]

Richard watched his father go without word or gesture. There were things he could have said, but he’d been lucky that things had ended so peaceably and so quickly – if Lord Blackwood wanted an end to the conversation, it would not be Richard who said otherwise. The younger man remained outside, staring up at the mist-soaked sky, and then finally exhaled.

“I-I was going to go,” he said quietly to the heavens, and then suddenly began to laugh. What else could he do? “If-if he but knew what-what he had truly said… thank you.”

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Alice was by the door when he finally came inside, which surprised him not one bit – and Richard did not even manage a disapproving frown for her eavesdropping, which in theory he should not have condoned, but in practice he was quite grateful for, at least at the moment.

“Well, that went well,” she said succinctly, though there was just the slightest hint of exasperated amusement in her eyes.

“I-I know you mean that in-in jest, Alice, but in truth I-I-I am relieved. I could not-could not have hoped for much better,” Richard replied, with a small, sheepish smile.

“That is because you are distressingly humble, and properly grateful for any small blessing in life. You could not have hoped for better - I am a far more selfish creature, and can set my hopes to a proper height,” Alice teased, though she set her hand on her hip. “Richard, why did you not just tell him you were not the one to invite the Warden inside? He would have still been angry to see the man, but the fault was not yours for disobeying his wishes.”

“What… what has our poor-poor doorman ever done to you, that you would-would ask me to throw him to Father’s temper!” Richard laughed. He sobered quickly, and shook his head. “It-it doesn’t matter. There is not, not one thing I have ever said that-that has made father happy, not one thing I-I-I have ever done that has made him proud. I could have-have asked Marcel to go, but I-I-I did not. Let-let-let the blame lie with-with me. It will not-will not change his opinion for the worse to-to think it so, it will not change-change his opinion for the better to learn-learn he was wrong. And in the end, it has worked-worked out for the best. I-I-I would have had to tell him I was-was leaving at some point, and we would have-have quarreled once more. Now I have his-his express command, and can leave without a word to him!”

“Father was not speaking seriously then, a fact that you well know,” Alice said, in a low tone.

“Then-then-then it was very ill of him not to-to say as much! He has made his-his wishes perfectly clear - in this I will at-at last be the obedient son.” Richard nearly leapt towards the manor staircase, taking the steps two at a time with long-legged strides. Alice followed quickly behind, pulling at the hem of her dress to keep it from catching on the floor.

“You cannot be serious, dear brother! Do you truly mean to go to the other side of the world just to spite him?” she asked. She always wore sensible shoes, and had no trouble keeping up.

Richard stopped at the door of his room, turning to face her. “You know why I mean to do this,” he said.

“And you know why I must protest!” Alice replied. “I know your motives well enough, and you are well aware of mine. I will not fault you them, but I cannot condone it. Think of Sarah, think of mother, do you think they would be happy to hear your reasons? Would you so easily abandon them now, when they need you?”

“They-they need you, Alice – I-I am a glorified nurse. They need-need peace, and quiet, and they will better have that when I am out-out of this house,” Richard said kindly, although he could not hide a sadness in his look.

“You know that is not what I meant, nor how I meant it,” Alice said sternly. “Think how they will take the news of your departure! You cannot go, Richard, this is madness.”

“I-I-I must, I must. Ezra has given me a sign, She-She has given me passage, She-She-She has even given me Father’s permission, and you cannot say-say that was not Her hand. You know I-I do not say such things lightly.” He gave Alice a pleading look. “Please. Please. My-my mind is made. Can we not-can we not part from each other on-on kindly terms?”

It was probably the only thing he could have said that would have ended the discussion, for she was as stubborn as both he and their father, perhaps even more so. But she bowed her head in defeat, and Richard was instantly filled with guilt. It was so unlike her that he nearly lost his resolve - he sighed, reaching out to put his arm around her shoulder. She leaned forward to embrace him.

“Don’t go. Not when I can’t follow,” she said, quiet and dignified in her sorrow.

”I-I will be safe – as safe there as-as anywhere, for I-I know you shall just bring up Dementlieu again,” Richard replied, with a smile. “I-I-I have nothing to fear from-from Hazlan, of all places. Do not worry-worry yourself on that front. And the Isfahanis are a-a respectable family – don’t-don’t give me that look, Alice, I know your opinion on them quite well. But I-I have a place to stay, and Cyrus and Darius will be-will be there. I will not be without friends, I-I will have safekeeping enough even for you.”

“Don’t think me unaware of who has called you there, nor to the peculiarities behind the invitation,” Alice said. “Even your most generous nature knows something is not right with the situation – I myself am less charitable, and can freely say I trust it not at all. Are you quite sure it is Ezra that calls you, and not some more mystic force from that land?”

“Perhaps some mystic force does-does call me, but I-I believe Ezra does as well. And I-I trust Darius not to summon me, if he-he thought something meant us harm,” Richard replied. “Please, don’t-don’t worry. I-I believe that everything will be well.”

“Oh, Richard. How I wish I had your faith!” Alice sighed, leaning back and letting him go. “I shall not be happy again, until you have safely returned to us.”

[NeoTiamat]

Lena read the letter once, and then she read it a second time. Then she read it aloud to Ushka quietly, and then she fell back, still fully dressed, onto the bed of her rented room.

It wasn't very lady like, really, but then Lena's great secret was that she wasn't actually very lady like. She'd grown up mostly alone, in the backwoods of Barovia, and it wasn't as though she'd ever been able to afford a proper lady's maid. She was mostly just good at mimicking how actual Proper Ladies behaved, and gliding over mistakes with plentiful charm.

"Focus Lenka, focus." Lena said, while Ushka crouched on the bed and touched her black nose to the back of Lena's hand. "This isn't diplomat's work. This is spy's work. He wants me to be a spy. Strahd von Zarovich wants me to be a spy."

Ushka whined, a rather sad, mewling sound. What Strahd wanted, Strahd would get. Lena closed her eyes and let her hand rest on Ushka's head, scratching behind her large ears. Now that the initial shock was wearing away, she was thinking.

"One thing at a time. Information gathering... I can do. This is just unofficial. Perhaps a cover? I would make a dashing Kartakan. And then terrifying mage assassins won't come after me when this is all over." Lena said, looking to her fox for suggestions. Ushka twitched her ears and covered her muzzle with a paw.

"...good point. If Elena von Zarovich is in Hazlan, they might think I'm a spy. If Elena von Zarovich is caught in disguise in Hazlan, they will know I'm a spy." Lena was silent for a moment. She'd been in dangerous situations before, really. She had a scar to prove it (men were always so surprised when they came across it, but Lena was proud of it, really). She'd had people try to assassinate her in Gundarak, and Nova Vaasa had been tense. And yet this would be the first time when the words 'public execution' could be used in the same sentence as her.

"No. I'll go as Elena von Zarovich. Trading mission." Lena wrinkled her nose. "I wonder if there's a chance to make some money while we're at it." Not buying secondhand clothes would be charming.

She was trying not to think of the actual mission. It was... quite a bit larger than just trade deals. But if Count Strahd said to do it, then Lena would do it, because this was the sort of thing that could very well be the chance she was waiting for. And information gathering was something Lena and Ushka were quite good at.

"Where should we hide the letter?" Lena said, tapping the parchment against her equally pale chin. "Trust not in the gratitude of princes. And yet, better not be found in Hazlan with it. Perhaps a safe box with one of the trading companies."

"And then..." Lena smiled down at her familiar, who opened her jaws to smile right back -- a pair of perfectly matched, vulpine grins. "And then we're off to Hazlan."

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Our desires will never stop burning," Altan said. "We nurture them like a mother nurtures her child."

"Exactly so," Nezar replies, nodding. "Our desires for the Autark will never be extinguished. But then, all men are mortal; some day our ruler will stand before the Giver of Law and receive his reward. He has no heir, of course...no heir of the body, though I suppose his Rashemani...apprentice...is his heir in spirit. But at his death we shall have no ruler--unless we provide one for ourselves."

He pauses, then continues, almost seeming to marvel at the audacity of his own words.

"It is time, Altan, that an Isfahani sat the Red Throne."