This has been what transpired in the seven days before the continuation of the trial.
For the past three days, Adriasta rode with the fastest of her retinue towards the direction of the Gaviolos lands, where Strraina Commerro will be said to be ambushed near the frontier. It was the simplest scheme but tried and tested by many nobility like her and royalty all over the four corners of the known world and lands beyond. She hoped they would make it before the matriarch of the Commerros got killed.
Thankfully, they are used to the forests, quagmires, and hills that plagued the frontier between the lands of House Commerro and House Gaviolos, for their homeland was similar, if not rougher. Many among her retinue have the Feats that made it easier for their horses to traverse the uneven landscape on the frontier. Yet there had been a few mishaps that had damaged their horses' hooves, fortunately easily solvable by health potions that were suitable for horses. They were lucky that Adriasta knew the exact path the men and women of the Commerros were taking, however, they had to take care not to reveal themselves to the other [Riders] on their way to intercept Racieros’ mother, hence their sluggishness.
The night before the ambush, Adriasta decided to camp on the very top of a hill, where she could vividly see the men and women sent by the Commerros, carelessly camping with a fire a fair distance away from a dirt road. Adriasta and her group, however, elected to use runestones to heat their pot, as one of them with cooking-Feats was stirring a stew. They sat among the nighttime shadows cast by the grove of trees they camped within, remaining unseen by the would-be assassins below.
There is another reason why Adriasta elected to camp on the very top of the mountain, which normally isn’t ideal if one wants to stay hidden. She knows that this is the spot where the ambush will occur. She does not know when will the carriage arrive, only that she knows it will be tomorrow morning, ignoring other possibilities such as the weather or the monsters lurking within the wild.
When morning came, Adriasta bestowed a Feat that increased range and accuracy to those whom she deemed skilled with the bow and arrow, with the conditions of that Feat being that they must be on a hilltop. While Adriasta and her entourage, armed with bows drawn partially, skulked in the shadows of the bushes and trees around them, as the assassins had positioned themselves on elevated ground between thick bushes with Dragonkin-crafted arquebuses pointed at the road after drawing impromptu runes on the dirt road that would cast a rudimentary [Earth Wall] spell that would be enough to scare the horses that pulled the target’s carriage.
Then they waited. No sound was uttered from their lips, and only the rustle of the leaves and the songs of the birds were heard. The sun rose southeast from the black border of the horizon until it hung at the zenith of the world’s firmament. A carriage was soon spotted on the dirt road, bearing the colors of Torregorn and House Commerro.
Although Adriasta and her entourage were already in a position to kill the assassins, she needed to catch them in the act so she could justify their murder later, and gain the trust of Strraina Commerro. The clops of the hooves on the dirt road are later heard, and the men and women hiding in the bushes prepare their firearms.
A wall of magically compacted earth was suddenly raised in front of the carriage, making the two horses pulling the carriage raise on their hind legs in fright. The [Coach] of the horses struggled to gain control of the horses, wresting the reins with his bare strength.
Soon, the report of the guns was heard. Seven out of nine of the foreign arquebuses were fired, while the other two misfired: their bullets failing to exit the barrel. The magical shining bubble surrounding the carriage became visible as it absorbed the force of three of the bullets before it shattered, with the rest of the volley puncturing the carriage doors. The ambushers left their arquebuses to the ground, pulling out pre-charged wands and blades of their own, but before they stood fully, they were pierced by the arrows that Adriasta’s group carried. Adriasta personally cut a [Soldier] of the Commerros with her falchion after they let loose their arrows. The ambushers of the other side had started to charge towards the carriage with blades in their hands, with some staying within the trees to cast pre-stored spells from their wooden wands. Adriasta’s [Archers] on the hill had already loosed arrows from afar, piercing the limbs and torsos of the assailants. Those who escaped the wrath of the arrows were cut down by Adriasta and her entourage instead.
Adriasta approached the carriage and opened it, seeing the green-haired spouse of the late Torresso Commerro, who was quite shocked by the ambush and the sudden intrusion.
“Apologies and greetings, Lady Commerro. I’m Adriasta of House Kaminor, and I’m here at the behest of your son.”
Then she briefly explained the situation in Ovespuerte, the death of her spouse and the persecution of her son; yet she did not explain the entire truth of the matter. Soon, after she ordered the beheading of the corpses to prevent them from rising as undead and cutting their hands that still held the Dragonkin-crafted firearms to bring as evidence, they had escorted the carriage to Ovespuerte.
-
The four days after the postponement of the trial was a time of uncertainty in Ovespuerte. Rumors of Racieros’ prosecution had already circulated, and the brewing storm stayed in the same place on Ovespuerte’s sea like an ominous reminder. The adherents of the Divine Decree see this as a warning from one of their gods, Areti, the God of Justice. The Beastkin [Traders] of the southern continent see it as a divine sign from the Prophet Zdrail. Those from the great continent of the east saw this as a reminder of the Ocean Goddess’ wrath. Adherents of smaller deities, especially the many gods of trade and fortune, had universally seen this as an omen. Even in the county capital of the Commerros and a major port of Torregorn, many faiths are tolerated by the city-state’s religion out of necessity. Many shrines never set foot on the docks, residing on their ships. A few who had used the many warehouses along the docks had erected small temples within barrels and crates. Many prayed more frequently than before, hoping that a storm would not come this early in the spring.
Numisley, and his brother, Cultrost, were tasked to be representatives of Racieros as he dealt with other matters. They are tasked to assuage the fears of the Guilds of Ovespuerte and rally them to Racieros’ cause. The meeting did not occur in the castle, but in the House of Scribes, the guild hall of the Scrivener’s Guild of Ovespuerte.
Numisley and Cultrost had been to many guild halls of the [Merchants] and [Drivers], and all manner of Roles back in their homeland with their father when he posed as a [Trader], and they had been in the gilded Tor Caserasera Comerr: the guild hall of the Merchant’s Guild of Ovespuerte next to the docks, within the market district. However, even the guild hall of the [Scribes] was more resplendent than the aforementioned building was spread out into four wings, and at the center is a tower with minimal openings. The stained glass windows dominated the beige facade of the large guild hall; no doubt its purpose was to provide light inside. In a way, it resembled a fortress, and Numisley and Cultrost guessed it had a lot of magical protections that they could not see.
There was a single Golem who guarded the heavy double doors of the guild hall. It appeared to be a hulking giant donned with a suit of regal armor, armed with a sword that resembled an elongated bardiche’s blade until one notices the dim red orbs within the visor and the rigidity of its movements. Despite the lack of a mouth, it spoke like vibrating metal, its sound reverberated throughout its body:
“Purpose.”
Both brothers jumped as they didn’t expect the golem to talk. It was asking a question, however, it sounded akin to a command instead of a question.
“Meeting.” Numisley regained his composure. “We are on behalf of Lord Racieros to meet with the Guildmasters of this port.”
The golem stayed silent for an uncomfortable while before the door opened, with a frail man in robes opening the door.
“Please come in.”
Soon, they were guided to a reception area where they were told to wait. The inside of the guild hall is one they did not expect. They were sitting on a velvet padded bench within a hall of multicolored mosaics, with a brass chandelier holding glowing crystals, reminding them of the interior of the bank back in Dotterm.
They expected a hall filled with [Scribes] eternally writing on lengthy pieces of parchment and paper, instead of a room resembling those in Racieros’ castle. Among all of the guilds of the Six Lands, they distinctly remember their father saying that among all the types of guilds, the Scribe Guilds and the Divination Guilds are consistently the wealthiest and the most influential because of their monopolies over all kinds of information. They saw the truth of their father’s tales, from the Golem to this room. They remembered having rudimentary stone golems back in their manor, but even each one had cost an arm and a leg. Cultrost remembered asking their father why he did not think to buy a golem of iron, and their father simply said that they were even more expensive.
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Now Numisley and Cultrost wondered if they were being observed somehow. However, before they could wait for too long, they were led by one of the members of the Guild to a conference hall located on the upper floor. Numisley and Cultrost were on time, seeing as the other Guildmasters and Guildmistresses had just arrived and settled in their padded chairs surrounding the oblong table made of ivory. The [Guildmasters] present are the leaders of the Adventurer’s Guild, Alchemist’s Guild, Smith’s Guild, Courier’s Guild, Shipwright’s Guild, and Builder’s Guild. Notably, there was the absence of the Mage’s Guild’s leader, who had reportedly gone to another city on inter-guild matters, the missing presence of the current Guildmaster of the Merchant’s Guild, and the presence of the Fishmonger’s Guild, which was a familiar feathered face.
“Tisruda?” Cultrost uttered.
“Oh, hello.” The Guildmaster of the Fishmonger’s Guild casually greeted the Gildin Brothers.
“I never thought you were the Guildmaster of the [Fishmongers],” Numisley remarked.
“Ain’t too inclined to show off my status to some passersbys.” Tisruda answered. “Not like the old man of this place.”
By coincidence, the door opened, postponing the conversation. Last to arrive was the Guildmaster of the Scrievener’s Guild, who sat at the head of the table, along with two [Scribes] with a contraption on their back that consisted of a large scroll attached to a brass frame, and attached to the frame was a foldable desk on the front of the [Scribes], containing the end of the paper scroll with compartments that held a large clay bottle of ink and several quills. Two other people in brown robes entered the room and silently sat on the benches next to the door.
“Welcome, Guildmasters of Ovespuerte. Greetings, [Merchants] of Lord Commerro. Thank you for inviting yourselves to my abode. [Servants] will be providing refreshments and snacks shortly for the duration of this meeting. All words spoken will be transcribed by the [Scribes] present, and any contracts and agreements that will be made will be overseen by the [Notaries] present.”
The Guildmaster of [Scribes] paused before continuing to speak. The [Scribes] had already dipped their quills in their bottles of ink.
“State your business, Numisley, and Cultrost Gildin. What does Lord Commerro request of us?”
“Racieros had told us–given us the authority to assuage your fears regarding his trial in the temple. To clarify the rumors regarding him, and to address your concerns in light of the matter on behalf of the authority of Ovespuerte.”
“I am right to assume that our services during the coronation would be paid, right?” The burly [Guildmaster] of the Builder’s Guild asked, seemingly puffing his chest in an effort to assert himself.
“Yes. In due time. As you may have heard, Racieros is defending himself against his supposed crimes.” Numisley answered.
“Is he involved with that foreign [Peddler]?” The [Guildmistress] of the Shipwright’s Guild asked about Aryyad. “I heard his [Mercenaries] were the ones who ransacked our port.
“No.” Numisley lied.
“That race traitor nevertheless dares to spread that desert cult in this port. I’ve seen altars of one of their prophets past the docks!” The [Guildmistress] expressed her outrage against Aryyad.
“Not only that, he is illegally acquiring much of the properties once belonging to the Guilds of Ovespuerte. Many of my smithies were snatched right under me from hostile negotiations.” The Guildmistress of the Smithing Guild of Ovespuerte complained.
“I’m afraid to report that my members too, were harassed by the men and women of a certain Libertalian [Captain].”
“I believe that there is a more important matter at hand,” Scrivorr spoke, the old man’s voice instantly halting any more complaints. “The results of the trial will affect us too, correct?”
“Yes,” Numisley answered. “That is why Racieros had sought your help. A petition against his unjust prosecution.”
“Don’t be hasty,” Scrivorr replied. “First, I want your assurance that Racieros would maintain our status within the port. His predecessor had allowed our guilds free reign as long as long as our actions and policies did not affect the economic health of his port. If not, then we shall lend our support to the other Commerros.”
The audacity of such a statement made Numisley hesitate for a short moment, but even back home he knew that guilds often have more power than the authorities.
“I’m sure that he would uphold his father’s previous agreements,” Racieros reassured.
“Second. All freelance individuals with an occupation and Roles not affiliated with the Guilds present must be required to be a member of the guild. The specificities of this law, of course, will be deliberated upon after Racieros' trial. Third, Racieros must force the Merchant’s Guild to recompense their unlawful acquisitions, and the detainment of its Guildmaster, or at least his removal from his position. If Lord Commerro could guarantee that, then he shall have our full support.”
“I’ll be sure to relay that. However, please listen to what Lord Racieros, and I have to say...”
After several minutes of that meeting, Numisley and Cultrost returned to the castle. Numisley had reported to Racieros on what the Guildmasters had to say.
-
A letter with the seal of the Commerros had reached the city of Ascolitica and made its way into the home of the Naveirei after four days. Its sender had disappeared long after this message had been received by its intended receiver.
Escribanorr Tres Naveirei had received the letter. When he read its contents he was first bewildered by his nephew’s audacity, until he realized that it benefitted the entire House. If they could acquire even a smidgen of Ovespuerte’s annual income it earns from the goods that come from the trade route that stretched from Libertalia to the isles of the Golden Triangle, his decision would pave the way to the future access of its wealth. Maybe even gaining more access to the Golden Triangle.
His nephew’s shrewdness proved that he was Jascias and Marhyiana’s son. Escribanorr realized that Numisley could prove to be an asset to their family, so he went to one of the scrying mirrors within his abode and attempted to contact the matriarch of their house. The mirror continued to ripple, attempting to get a lock on his mother until her annoyed expression had shown up.
“This better be something important.”
“Lady Matironra.” Escribanorr performed a subtle bow.
“I’m in no mood for formalities. My [Servant] told me you used the high-priority channel. What is it?”
“Marhyiana’s son had negotiated with Torresso’s son that he will give us a portion of Ovespuerte’s annual income if we help him in his trials against the Commerros.”
“Marhyiana’s son–oh.”
“With your blessing, I shall use any resources necessary to secure this.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Escribanorr ultimately knew the answer. However, his mother nevertheless reiterated it.
“Did he tell you the exact amount of this share? Of course, he withheld it. He talks like his father. I know he would try to negotiate for his right to undergo the Ichoricon Rite to become one of us. I know that if I recognize him as Marhyiana’s son, then our House’s heritage will be called into question once they see his cursed leg, evidence of your sister’s transgression.”
“I may be a [Mage Lord], but I know the records. Even with the patrols of northern ports, our recent skirmishes against the Aureleon Empire’s hired [Privateers] had hindered trade. Ships had been plundered and taken, and I know you can see that. If we have a silver of Ovespuerte’s income from its trade with the Golden Triangle, then we could better recompense our losses and better relations with House Commerro. With this beachhead, we could even have our products easily sold to the routes of the Golden Triangle!”
“The current Commerro patriarch is merely a boy, no doubt stricken by the loss of his father and older brother, soon to be deposed by his own family. No doubt his lowborn mother had been killed by now. Would you want to help him? You will tarnish our reputation with that move.”
“Mother.” Escribanorr discarded his usual address to belabor his point. “I think it is worth the risk. We had been far too comfortable with the royal privileges that Marhyiana had earned for us. My sources say that already, the Gaviolos had set their sights on Ovespuerte. Let me do this. I swear in the Divine Decree and the name and blood of our House that I shall make our family richer.”
There was a pregnant pause between them until the matriarch of the Naveirei moved her chapped lips.
“Succeed, and I’ll consider that boy’s initiation to our House. Fail and tarnish our House reputation, then I shall disinherit you. Is this a risk you are willing to take?”
“I shall surf through the waves of strife as our ancestors did.” Escribanorr evoked their House’s motto.
“Good.”
The trial resumed on the seventh day of Iaraducar, the second month of spring. The temple had long been consecrated during the week of delay. The evidence of the [Priests]’
On that day, those on trial were prepared for the judgment of the Decree.