You consider the implications Az is making before you say, "I should interview her..." you glance at the chaos as the crew begins the process of abandoning ship and add on with a sigh, "Once all of that is cleared out."
The waxing crescent of the moon is not yet halfway across the sky when the little flotilla of longboats is shoved away and the sails of the captured ship billow out as the skeleton crew aboard begin to have it follow in the wake of the Spritely Sinner. For your part you're sitting on one of the upper decks, having been informed by Az to let your introduction wait until after Kattarin has finished assembling the full ship's manifest, the abbreviated one for the issuing of a receipt - Az was truly insane! - having been included with the raft of boats for the rest of the fleet to find. Finally, around what you estimate to be a little after midnight you hear the door to the captain's cabin open and the noblewoman peaks her head out.
"Glad you could join us for this witching hour," you note with a tired and bored tone while half looking out at the starlit ocean.
Kattarin gives a "Hmph!" and almost closes the cabin door again, before she has the sudden realization that she is still a captive and instead asks, "Who are you and what do you want?"
"I'm Camilla and what I want is for you to either confirm that you're going to sleep, or to know what you're doing still up," you say, perhaps a bit more snippishly than is necessary. You're tired and not entirely certain what you're supposed to be doing, but still up because you're pretty sure it's expected of you.
"I'm doing the job that maniac you take orders from asked of me!" Kattarin snapped back.
You're about ready to launch into a full blown explosion before you shake your head and say, "Okay, you know what? I don't think he needs either of us to snap to right away. You, me, we need to talk in the morning. I'm getting some rest, and I suggest you do too."
Initial impression now thoroughly blown, you head to the eerily empty below decks to hop into a hammock and get some shut eye.
Come the morning, and neither you nor Kattarin are in much of a better mood. She's clearly stressed out and didn't sleep well, and seeing the half-living crew of the Spritely Sinner in full light clearly isn't helping her mood. While sympathetic, seeing her in full light somewhat sours your mood. She is every inch the aristocratic Semish lady at prime matrimonial age, and something about it annoys you on a fundamental level. You think in your prior life you had some sort of interaction with those sorts, and they weren't good interactions. The perfect height to be of noble bearing and able to loom over others without being mannishly large, she has fine boned features and smooth, pale olive skin free of blemishes. Hair that is obviously supposed to be naturally dark has been fashionably bleached blonde and then dyed a vibrant red of just a perfect shade to actually go with her complexion, the individual strands then gathered up into dozens upon dozens of fine braids that have then been arranged into a coil atop her head - you think on the mainlands women attach elaborate wigs, hats, and props to these sorts of structures. While rumpled from the late night, she is wearing a long dress of brightly pigmented red and blue layers. Everything about her screams wealth, both in her accoutrements and the fact that she has to have both extravagant amounts of time and servants to put such care into her appearance.
You note as you chew on a biscuit that you're also feeling rather self-conscious about your own appearance. Your hair has started to grow back, but the scars on your skull mean that the straw fuzz there is coming in patchy, and you will probably never have nice hair in your life.
Glaring at you, Kattarin asks in imperious interrogation, "Are you ready to interrogate me then?"
Snapping off a chunk of the hard tack to begin labouriously chewing it, you say, "Sure, let's call it that, Lady del Torros. I'm Camilla, I guess what amounts to second-in-command for Az for the time being, and he wants me to come to some sort of conclusion about you. So, tell me all about yourself."
Sitting down all prim and proper, Kattarin sticks out her chin at you and says, "Very well. As you heard last night, I am Kattarin d'Jauney del Torros, daughter of Imperial Representative to Torros, Emeil d'Jauney del Sorrosos. I elected to remain with your group as the most competent person of the ship to argue in the favour of Semish Empire."
You idly note that there is an undercurrent of fear and disgust when she says that, and you ask, "Any other reasons."
Kattarin looks perturbed and disturbed, and you wonder if perhaps there is some tell from the use of your sensory magic that no one has mentioned, and after a moment she said, "I... actually, yes, I also felt that I would be safer with your 'Az' than stranded on a boat surrounded by upset sailors and my father incapacitated. His attitude seems... structured and thus I judged my chances of remaining unmolested were highest this way."
That is a fear that you can understand and you nod and say with full sincerity, "That is something that I can assure you shall not be a problem here. Neither Az nor Dagwood and his crew has any interest in that sort of thing... okay, maybe Az has a sexual side, but he hasn't expressed it to me."
The look that crosses over Kattarin's face is both subtle and infuriating, but she quickly smooths it over and says, "Something to be grateful for, to be sure." After a moment, she asks, "You seem to know him well enough, do you think he would be open to legal arguments for the return of this ship to the Empire, or if his decisions are proof against outside arguments."
You consider the question while noting that her asking that gives you a number of clues about her. After a moment you shrug and say, "I think he would welcome you arguing your case... I just don't think you'll be able to win."
At that Kattarin's hackles are raised and she states, "I will have you know that I am no stranger to rhetoric or the study of the law, so I ask that you not assume that I am incapable of such."
You note that this is an obvious sore point, but stare at her blankly for a moment before saying sarcastically, "That you think that comment reflects in any way upon you rather than Az ironically does reflect upon you." Sighing, you then ask, "You really need to get this ship back, don't you?"
"For honour's sake, I must fight for it as hard as possible in every way possible," Kattarin states firmly. After a moment's reflection, she adds on, "That is most definitely the largest reason I had for accompanying this ship: the fight for it is not over. I will admit my chances are slim, but simply relenting now would bring further shame on my family."
You mull over what to say to that before you reply, "Honestly, I don't think its possible for a loss to Az to truly bring shame. Az is just straight up not fair to fight against."
"I'm honestly not," Az says as he sweeps onto the scene, a bottle of rum in one hand and a trio of silver goblets in the other, everything clearly taken from the captain's quarters. Plopping himself down leisurely on the deck nearby, he looks at the two of you from behind his mask, which you now recognize as a modification of a sort of carnival mask, and he asks, "So, you two getting along?"
Considering the question, you answer before Kattarin with a blunt, "Not particularly. I mean, not really fighting, I just don't think we're 'getting along', per se."
"Give it time, give it time," Az says with a smile as he pours a measure of rum into one of the goblets. He then asks, "Grog ration, either of you?"
Both you and Kattarin consider the request and slowly say, "No."
Az shrugs and says, "Okay, well, there will be some for you if you decide you want your share."
Kattarin assesses Az quietly as he drinks, and you assess her. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she comments, "From last night, I would not have pegged you as a drinker."
You know that this whole thing feels out of character, in that while Az hasn't really been around alcohol for the past month, above all other things he definitely needs to be in control, over himself most of all. All you can figure is that he's doing something peculiar with all of this. Testing her, testing you maybe?
"Not really, but the enjoyment of good craft is its own reward," Az says. He holds up the bottle of rum to the light, letting the sun shine through the thick, dark glass and the liquid sloshing about within.
Everything is eerily quiet, the crew content to not interfere with things and you and Kattarin mostly watching Az drink as the sun rises into the sky. There is the occasional bit of chatter, but there is a definite tension in the air from everything, before Az finishes off his third of the bottle and asks once again, "Either of you care for your share?"
Once again the both of you answer with a slow and deliberate, "No, thank you."
Hopping from a seated position to standing with a flick of his body, Az stretches out as if he hadn't just spent the whole morning drinking and asks, "So, Councillor Camilla, your assessment of our guest?"
You blink owlishly at the fact that apparently alcohol does nothing at all to Az and why would you expect anything less and then say, "The Lady d'Jauney is extremely concerned with mitigating the dishonour your seizure of this ship has brought upon her family and is hopeful that with preparation and study she can find some way to argue the return of the ship."
Rubbing his index finger and thumb on his chin thoughtfully, he shrugs and says, "It's not impossible, but the ship itself is is obvious violation of treaty, to say nothing of the cargo."
"More of this treaty nonsense! I have never heard of Confederacy of..." Kattarin begins, before trailing off at the foreign term that had been used the night before.
"Xoiharl Confederacy," Az helpfully provides.
"Xoiharl Confederacy, or of the Treaty of Thirteen Cities. The Semish are part of no such thing!" Kattarin protests.
"I will admit that there is not much of the Xoiharl Confederacy, but I am in fact a lawful executor of its duties and responsibilities, and the Twelve Cities are most definitely the same Twelve the treaty refers to, the Thirteenth being the Xoiharl capital. Since the Semish claim continuity of government as far back as there have been Semish, and the treaty by its writing would not have been annulled, they are bound by it. The failure of the Semish and Xoiharl to fulfill their treaty obligations up to this point is regrettable, but I intend to see to proper compliance of all parties going forward."
Kattarin considers this in confusion for a moment before her brows furrow, and then a look of shock crosses her face and she says accusingly, "You mean the First Empire!"
Az takes a melodramatic bow and says, "The blood of emperors flows in my veins, and I have studied the treaties made by the organization most carefully, better than anyone else since the passing of the First Emperor. One could accuse me of using old laws as a cover for naked force, but, let us be honest, a law that no one follows is not a law, and there are many laws that we find convenient to ignore unless there is force to back them."
Kattarin struggles to figure some response to this out before she proclaims, "Then fight the enemies of the Semish!"
Az smiles, his mask giving his features a strange and unsettling accentuation, before he says, "But of course! The treaty does obligate the Confederacy to render military support and aid to the Twelve Cities and their territories, although if they wish me to render support more extensive than what materials I can obtain by my own initiative, they will have to stop acting out of treaty and grant control over their forces and foreign policy to the Confederacy, as represented by the War Council, which currently consists of me, Camilla, and possibly Nathaniel. Not sure if he wants the position to be honest. Also, I'm planning on executing him as soon as possible for all of his piracy, and that makes the politics of the situation so much more complicated."
You gasp at Az's blunt admission to planning to kill Captain Dagwood, but you look around in confusion at the blank stares of the man's crew and feel like you have missed an important conversation somewhere. After a second it dawns on you that Nathaniel wants to die, and in fact his piracy has been related to the fact that he can't die and is looking for a cure. Is this just Az being his weirdly honest yet deceptive self? You'll have to talk to him about this later.
"Why is she on your council?" Kattarin demands.
"Because she is skilled and useful. Why, would you like to be on my council?" Az asks.
Both you and Kattarin blink at that question, at which point Kattarin demands to know, "Why would I want to?"
"A way to influence and control me, maybe a way to whisper in my ear 'inspect the Semish less, attack the Juntlunders more', or perhaps a simple desire for power?" Az suggests, pausing slightly in feigned consideration. "I mean, once I find a way to safely get you back to your people you are free to go, but I suppose the question you should ask yourself is if you want to go? I've been learning a few things, and I'm sure you know that the governors of the colonies are not drawn from the supporters of the current Emperor, but from the loyal opposition. A way to get certain inconvenient people away from court at home. The loss of a warship, that will look poorly for your father, now won't it?"
"Joining up with a mad cultist-" Kattarin begins to spit, only for Az to interrupt her by moving in close and placing a finger on her lips. While the uncharacteristic intrusion is actually surprisingly gentle aside from the invasion of personal space, it immediately causes Kattarin to go dead silent.
You also feel a slight flush of jealousy upon your cheeks that you immediately try to suppress out of embarrassment. You're not interested in the First Emperor!
Even though you have to admit that he is really quite gorgeous in his own somewhat malevolent way and you've seen him move and-
No! Bad thoughts! Back to the matter at hand!
"That I claim use of the legend of the First Emperor and the laws he laid out, including the fact that they are written so that despite his passing they could not have been annulled within the past two thousand years, does not in any way mean I worship him. I have no time for such foolishness," Az explains, and you marvel not just at his ability to spin lies out of truth but the fact that he does it so quickly and effortlessly.
"But yes, if you wanted, I could bring you into the inner circle of this merry little adventure. I'm thinking I will seek a figurehead to be captain at first. You being the pirate queen while I work from the background as the dangerous figure of menace and dread would have its advantages, don't you think? And were you 'captain', it would require considerable effort on my part to get you to go along with interfering with the Semish Empire and its allies," Az details out, and while you're still not sure why he's pushing this offer, you're starting to get a feel for the slippery, sideways way his mind works at times.
"And then what? What do you want? Is this all just a lust for wealth wrapped in a desire to somehow seem like you're in the right instead of just another thug at sea?" Kattarin demands.
Az smiles that enigmatic smile of his and picks up the silver goblet he had been drinking from and the bottle of rum. "Do you ever consider what goes into making these? The miners, the woodcutters, the farmers, the distillers, the smiths, the carpenters, the sailors, the soldiers and constables, the bureaucrats, and all the other people who go into turning lumps of ore and vegetable matter into the luxuries you see before you? Do you ever think about the churning mass of humanity these simple things represent? I don't want rum and silver, I want all the things that go into rum and silver, to put all the little things to order."
He then turns to you and asks, "Tell me Camilla, would you feel better if you were to put Kattarin here to order? I did see your work with Marcus and the rest of the crew."
Your blood runs cold at that, as you realize he is asking if you can change Kattarin, to reach into her mind and soul to prune and rearrange her thoughts, emotions, and memories, to make her the perfectly loyal lieutenant. You honestly don't know if you are able to, at least not with any proficiency, but he is definitely looking for an answer, even as Kattarin looks on in concern and confusion.
You answer...
[] Yes
[] Not yet
[] Maybe?
[] I can't
[] I won't
