Verthill
By dawn, the last of the stronghold's defenders had limped out of the fort and surrendered their weapons, tailed by the cobbler's son supporting their tired old librarian. His efforts with their ancient scroll had been to no avail; evidently, it had already been made use of before.
TAG: Stoney
Allin
Stepping off the rowboat, with three ships flying the Vasan arms moored out in sight of port, Miranda was given a warm welcome by the Allinese at the docks. Well, a welcome, anyway. Partly because she was accompanied by Yochanan, and partly due to an inherent sort of suspicion, her reception was a mixture of polite words and menacing polearms. A short series of officials were briefly dealt with by application of words like "trade goods," "special envoy of the Vasa Ascendancy," and so on, until the chain was finally ended at: "All due respect, commander, but trade relations are not negotiated with customs officials. I shall consider your proposal of 'emergency seizure' to be mere levity, and most endearing. Allow me use of the same manner, then, to inform you that the Emperor is not a man to be strong-armed, and that I've a man on my ships that could see your entire fleet burned to the waterline. I will speak with your leader, now." (In truth, it was not for another couple of hours that this last part proved to be accurate.)
When a city came under siege, it was only a matter of time until bread was worth more than any amount of authority, and it was apparently in recognition of this truth that Oman and his "council" had taken up residence in a tent outside the grain depot, more or less ignoring the now beggar-infested town hall. (Nobody was begging for anything, as the city was under rations, but neither were they wasting a perfectly good roof and walls). It was at the square that she was led, however, where a large mob had gathered to watch the scene in the center unfold.
Ringed by guards and cheers, Ajax Oman knelt shirtless in the square, pale and frail and with a sheen on his head that suggested it had only now been freshly shaven, in what most outside of old Eximia would generally tend to assume to be a scene of public punishment. Miranda knew better; though the Church was not decisively influential on the mainland, it was not especially uncommon for the priests from Kingdom of God, recognizable by the flaming crown sown into the cloak over their (often faded) white robes, to perform this sort of ritual on zealous new converts or calculating public figures. She'd never been through it herself, as the spawn of a rather lesser noble House and a recluse as well, (and not an especially devout one), but she'd watched the old Marquis and his boys go through it some years ago, when he'd first courted the Church's favor in the matter of the succession.
This priest standing over the rebel leader was small and thin, his robes faded from white to a sort of gray that near perfectly matched the close-cropped hair that shone on his scalp, but when he spoke his voice was full and deep, and carried easily to the back of the crowd. "Ajax Oman," it boomed. "Having so sworn, be blessed by the Light." He raised a hand solemnly, and- here, Miranda's breath caught sharply,- they watched as it burst into sudden, white-hot flame. Before anyone could move, he had pressed it atop the kneeling man's head. This, with the fire, even Miranda had not seen before. It was certainly news to the Allinese crowd, which went up in a chorus of mutterings which the priest's voice somehow washed effortlessly over. "That it may burn away the vices and sins of the heart. That it may illuminate and guide the course of the mind. Rise, Ajax Oman, ready to stand against the darkness. Stand now an agent of God, a voice for the Truth, a champion of the Just." The flames seared around his palm, yet the whole time the kneeling man cried out not once, nor flinched away. Then the fires disappeared just as swiftly as they had come, the mousy little priest withdrew his arm, and the shirtless man stood, unburnt and apparently unharmed, amidst a tumultuous combination of angry shouts, whistles, and cheers. Despite herself, Miranda stole a glance at Yochanan, to see how he was taking the affair.
[Temporary stop-point, prone to sudden continuation] [TAG anyone, more or less]