An Optimistic View Of How Things Might Have Gone
BoneyM said:
Your now-customary post-council meeting with Van Hal opens as per usual, with him barely looking up from his desk as you enter. It seems like every time you come in here, there's more papers stacked up.
(...)
"Letters every now and then. I'll have been getting in touch with them this year anyway because there's a killer illusion-snake trying to murder me."
Van Hal's mug was halfway to his lips when you said that, and he lowers it back down onto the desk and gives you a flat look. "What have you been getting up to," he asks - he doesn't quite growl, but there's a hint of it in his voice.
"Nothing recently," you assure him. "This is from back when I was still getting a hold on Ulgu."
"And it didn't occur to you to tell me there was a Thorned One pursuing you?"
"You know of it?" You ask, hopefully.
"Barely. I once pursued an artist-cult that worshipped it as their muse. In the end, I only got the snake's leftovers, and they would have been for the asylum if they had escaped the pyre." You sigh, disappointed, and he shakes his head at you. "A Thorned One. And you're only just sending letters home to ask for advice."
"I've been busy," you say defensively.
He's not taking that too badly, you think. But he would have liked to be notified earlier. You should probably tell him about the other things earlier rather than later, too.
"My lord." you say nervously, taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts.
"Weber?" Van Hal looks at you.
"I'm not sure how to put this. But- ah, in several of the books I've read, there's a question which indicates things are about to go wrong: '
When were you planning on telling me about this?' So there are some things I want to get off my chest before that happens."
"Is this about the fact that you worship Ranald?"
You blink. You were sure you'd been discreet about that. "How did you know?"
"Kasmir told me."
"How did
he know?"
"He didn't tell me. Priest business of some sort, I suppose?" Van Hal shrugs. "As I've
said, as long as you're loyal to Stirland and the Empire, it doesn't concern me that you worship Ranald. But you said 'things'. What else?"
"...it's more than just worship. I've bought a place in the city so I could work more discreetly outside the castle, and I turned it into a shrine to Ranald the Deceiver, and I've made friends with some of the thief-priests of Ranald the Night Prowler."
Van Hal makes the sign of the comet. "Sigmar preserve me from the plans of wizards. But I've worked with worse. You do intend to make these priests part of your spy network and have them warn you, and me, about attempted vampire infiltration of the city's underworld, right?" His tone makes it clear that this is actually an order despite being phrased as a question.
"Yes."
"Good. What else?"
"The posts listed as 'Magical Expenses' and 'Contacts Outside Stirland' in my budget report are padded with interest payments on my debt to the Grey College."
The Elector Count rolls his eyes. "Weber, the most relevant part of that sentence wasn't the embezzling, it was the word 'debt'. A spymaster in debt to someone else is a spymaster whose loyalties are uncertain." The silence is oppressive as he weighs his next words carefully, glaring at you sharply. "But you have a record of good service, even if it's short, and the Grey Order is a respectable institution, not some Tilean usurer. How much do you owe?" You tell him, and he grunts. "Mmm. I'll have to talk to Wilhelmina, but here's what I'm thinking: You'll stop embezzling, I'll lend you the money, you'll pay off the Grey Order, your debt is now to me. And Wilhelmina will be scrutinizing your future expenses."
(Relation -1)
You nod quickly, hoping that the word 'future' in that sentences means he's willing to overlook your past indiscretions.
"Is that all? Because I have a province to run." Van Hal looks sour and disgruntled, but not angry. Not quite yet. Time for the last card.
"Only one more thing. My former master in the Grey Order sent me a letter. He said that --- ------- --------- ------ --- --- -- -------- ----- -- - ------ ------ -----."
"Well, what did he say?"
"What? I just told you." You reach for Ulgu and try to explain again, listening to yourself speak. "- --- ----- -- ------- - ------ -- -----. Oh. I see. -- ------- ------- -- ----------- -- -- -- ------- -- ------- ----- ------ - ----------." The Count is tapping his fingers impatiently, so you try a new tack. "Hypothetically speaking, a wizard might be able to use Ulgu to magically hide certain information a person knows so that it cannot be passed on. Hypothetically speaking, if I'd had a spell of secrecy put on me this way, there might be certain things I'd be unable to tell you and I'd have to talk around. Hypothetically speaking, such a spell could be dispelled by a similarly powerful wizard. Hypothetically speaking, - ----- -- --------- ---- ---."
"Bloody wizards." Now Van Hal does look angry. "Has your former master asked, told, instructed, or otherwise suggested you do anything contrary to the interests of Stirland and the Empire?"
(Relation -1)
"No." At least you can say that much.
"Then I'm going to conclude this is
bloody stupid wizard business and leave it to the
bloody stupid wizards to keep their
bloody stupid wizard secrets. Get out. Get out, do your job, and see if you can find a way to dispel whatever happened to you. Hypothetically." He spits the last word. You have a feeling he's going to be watching you a lot more closely from now on.
(Entirely speculative post.)