Private In the Shadows

[Moina Iasis]

The Boneknitter hadn't expected to return to Naya Vapna, not when the last time she'd been in the Empire there had been a bounty on her head and certainly not now as she had sided with the Fools. There was no lost love between the city-state and the Imperial nation. She moved with purposeful steps through the back alleys of a city that she was familiar with, but hadn't been in since before her time at the Magisterium. Her hood drawn about her face, though it did little to hide the vibrant red hair that fell across her shoulders, Moina gave off the appearance that she belonged and that was important. No one glanced at people who looked like they belonged here.

She stopped in front of a shadowed door with a worn wooden sign hanging above it rocking softly in the wind. Pushing the door open, she stepped into the dimly lit bar. The perfect place for clandestine meetings. No one even bothered to look up as she entered. Each other patron likely here to try and keep a low profile. A quick glance around the space and she found the man she was looking for. An imposing figure with a mask covering his face, the flicker of the candle catching the metallic material slightly before the face was covered in shadows again. Each flicker casting shadows against the surface, like a nightmare visiting in the flesh. Not much could make the hair on her arms stand on end, but there was something about the figure that had her progressing with caution. At least she knew they were on the same side for now. She was here at his request, well at the request for a Boneknitter.

Moving through the close tables and benches, she stopped in front of his table sliding onto the bench across from him. "Pleasant evening to you." She greeted. "I come from the Boneknitters." She says in a simple introduction. There had not been much in the way of detail for this contract and she'd almost let another take it, but the chance to get into Naya Vapna and perhaps try and find information on her family was an opportunity that was worth the risk.​

 

[The Prince of Tatters]

Naya Vapna. Others likely imagine some Hell in their afterlife to serve as their place of torment. It’s my torment in this one. I look upon this city and wonder how my father imagined he might have changed it. How I figure I could have brought it down with all of the swords in the City of Fools. Both corrupt and resplendent in it’s decay. My corpse and the corpses of my men weren’t even great enough to hang from its walls.

I have to kill it with a poison it can’t feel. If it cannot burn, I must pick at it’s rot. Little by little. Piece by piece.

I just need time.​

He’d waited for some time for the Bonekitter’s arrival. A single voice had kept him company. The one that lived within the metal of his mask and tugged at the fringes of his mind with a quiet voice. None would ever know how much fire that spirit brought with it. The nightmares and reminders of what and who he used to be ate at his very soul and bade him to keep going. Even as the human part of him knew that nothing would bring his family back from the depths of the Boiling Sea that had become their watery grave. Nothing that would restore their good name to what it was.

All that was left was getting to see his enemies bleed.

He responded with whisper and yet behind it’s softness was steel. The promise of death to come. A single candle illuminated that which he wanted illuminated. The little orange light bounced off the metal of his mask and gave away nothing behind the two holes that he peered through.

“This meeting is overdue,” he gestured to the seat across from him, his gloved gauntlets being revealed from under his black veil. “Come sit, Boneknitter. We’ve much to discuss.”

 

[Moina Iasis]

She looked at the masked man with a little surprise on her face. "Overdue?" She asked curiously. She was unfamiliar with the man who sat across from her. The Prince of Tatters certainly wasn't a moniker with which she had familiarity. She had many questions as to his nature and really had no information as to his history either. Only that he was here in the Empire. An empire with which she was an enemy. For all she knew, the bounty was still on her head. The one that she had run from. Then there was the added bonus that as a member of the mercenary guilds of the City of Fools placed her on the list of the nation's enemies. Perhaps that was what made her the perfect ally. She could only wait to see.

"Perhaps I should get a drink first." She waved down a waitress, ordering an ale that was quickly set in front of her. Truth be told, Moina was not much of a drinker, but what better than to convince someone that it was just two friends catching up than to appear to be sharing a drink with each other.​

 

[The Prince of Tatters]

"Wise," He responded quietly. Beneath his masque of steel, his eyes darted to the waitress who brought the Boneknitter and ale and while he didn't get a drink himself, he nodded politely at her and watched her walk out of earshot before he turned his attention back to Moina. She was certainly a daughter of the Empire, though it had turned it's back on her, it seemed that only the Empire's progeny would be bold enough to return to the capital that had disgraced and betrayed them. He was much the same. Though his memories were shattered, there were things that this place instilled in him that he could never forget as much as he wanted to. All of the things that he hated about himself most came from the Empire. The Crucible. The doctrine that stuck with him even after passing through death's veil. That his enemies had to die at all costs...

"You are brave to come here. For a time, I wondered if you would show," he said, studying her expression from beneath his façade. "You are a child of the Empire just as I am. And you have enemies here still. Some that we have in common."

He leaned forward.

"I want you to work with me to rid the world of their existence..."​

 

[Moina Iasis]

Moina took a measured sip of her ale as she listened to the masked man's desire. Rid the world of the Empire or of his specific enemies, she had to wonder. One might benefit her more than the other, but as a mercenary it wasn't always about individual benefit so much as it was the payment provided. "Who would think to look for me in the heart of their capital?" She said as the corner of her mouth turned up slightly. Perhaps a bit cocky, but it had been more than a few years since the bounty was first put on on her and her family. Likely they had long been forgotten.

"Why is it that you want the Empire to fall?" The question was quiet and perhaps a bit too intrusive, but she needed to know exactly how far he was willing to go. Too often people sought after revenge with only the revenge in mind. The Knitter would not search out her end with this, there needed to be a plan that didn't involve her own death at the end. She didn't know what his motives were, but hers were still to live. "Is there a plan past their demise?" She asked thoughtfully.​

 

[The Prince of Tatters]

"Who would indeed, Bonneknitter? ...Who would indeed..."

He sat there almost like a statue for a few moments, the light from the candle between them making him look like some sort of effigy to pray even if just for a little while. One who was keen intuition might have realized that the masked man was actually thinking of how to respond to the woman across from him. It was hardly his intention to lie, but the truth was, he couldn't quite remember all of the reasons why he knew they had to fall. The only thing that existed in his conscious was images and memories of suffering. All of those faces had names that became more difficult to grasp every day of his new life...

"There are few living on any corner of this continent that has not suffered at their hands. I do this now, Boneknitter because we are close to the tipping point. They are finally on the backpedal after centuries of dominance. Finally, this old, grand thing they've built can topple if the right people give it a push..."

The Prince leaned forward in his seat a bit.

"I once knew a man who's name escapes me... He dreamed of putting the power in the hands of the people and letting them decide what their fate was. To move lockstep with the destiny they choose for themselves. It was his dream and he died for it. It's my wish to make it a reality."

 

[Moina Iasis]

Moina listened silent, attentively as the man before her spoke. His words quiet, calm, measured. This was no man after pure revenge, though perhaps a bit of that lay within even still. No, he was driven by much much more. That was at least the start of enough to draw her interest. Her finger toyed with the rim of her glass, eyes watching the rippling waves within.

"Of the people . . . " She said quietly to herself. If she remembered her history right, that was the original intention before the ambitions of man got in the way. The need, the want for more power. Power corrupts. She couldn't help but think of her own situation. She still had no idea what had happened to cause her own family's fall from favor, but it didn't take a genius to know it had to do with politics. Her father had managed to create his own enemies within the senate-elect. Any of them could have taken that next step after some offense or slight.

She gave a nod. "I'll join you." She agreed as her eyes raised back from where they had been thoughtfully staring at the full mug in front of her to meet his in the depths of the mash that sat on his face. She mostly wanted answers and this was the best opportunity for her to find them. What would come after those answers remained to be seen. "You'll need more than just me." More of a statement than a question. While an army would be nice, there was more than one way to bring a nation to collapse. "I still have a few I can trust here among the elite." She offered, though it was very few indeed.