Le Sorelle Pirati

A sturdy stonework hut somewhere in La Montanara, Hestralia:

“Why do we live here now papa?”, asked the child, scribbling absentmindedly in the dirt using a stick.
“So, I can work and so we can eat”, replied the man as he dumped a bowl of chopped meat and vegetables into an iron pot that hung from a chain above the hearth.
“There was no work on the island, papa?”
“Not for me, paisano.”, the man muttered as he tossed some dried herbs into the pot for flavor. “There’s nothing good in those islands for us now.”
“The islands have bad-guys, papa?”
The man pushed the pot to a different position over the fire so its contents would boil more gently. “Of course! You know about Le Sorelle Pirati, no?”
“No papa, tell me about The Pirate Sisters!”
“The Sisters Pirates.”
“Cosa?”
The man laughed. “The Sisters are the name of all the islands. The islands, they have pirates, si.”
“The pirates are not sisters?”
“They are all kinds, but yes they have a lot of girl pirates, girl captains, and a girl ammiraglia. I think they have a lot of girl pirates for the same reason you were confused by the name. It is an amusing coincidenza, no?”
“Co-in. Coinzi”, the boy struggled with the word while using the stick as a cutlass and dueling the empty wall while his father smiled.
“Can I be a pirate, papa?”, the boy asked innocently while the man checked on the pot. His smile half faded, and he lied in the easy way that only a parent can, “Of course you can, Sergio.”

———————————————–
Organization: THE SISTERS PIRATES
Type: Outlaw
Ties: Many formal and informal throughout Hestralia (and likely beyond).
Tier: 4 (estimated)

History:
There are those (especially that live in the islands in question) that believe the recovery of humankind started from the aftermath of the Age of Witchkings in the islands called The Sisters. These are remote enough to not be easily reached by unskilled navigators, and small enough that they could be reclaimed one by one. This allowed the fledgling new civilization of human refugees from the ancient disaster to raid and conquer their way into the continent and establish the nations we know now. Interestingly, the same remoteness and beliefs about the history of The Sisters is assumed to be why they were the last to join the Unified Hestralia, and even to this day often ignore the rule of Aquila. It is also known that the reason the Sisters Pirates are often held in a degree of reverence is the belief that they are continuing the lifestyle of the original warriors and raiders that launched the recovery of humankind so long ago. (This savage time before the Age of Heroes is poorly understood, and nearly undocumented.)

The Sisters Pirates have been involved in almost every major conflict accessible by sea in the eastern part of the world. They have been known to appear and turn the tide of a battle, but also to betray a side they were hired to fight for. The motivations of these pirates would seem to be strictly profit motivated, but there is some evidence they work, in a roundabout way, to maintain the freedom of Le Sorelle.

The Sisters Pirates are organized loosely after the model of a naval fleet. There is an admiral that rules over the whole organization, four commodores with logistical and political duties but no fleets of their own, and a lot of captains that command everything from whole battlegroups to individual ships.

Hagiography of St. William the Penitent

William Avery was born under the shadow of Sunken Sorrow on the banks of the Mastow, third or fourth child of a Knight in service to the Old Count Telford in the year of the Lion’s Age 440. No heir to title of his own, his family was at least as relieved as it was worried when he showed the academic promise and self-confidence that would propel him to the halls of the Dextera Inflamatio.

A surprisingly average apprentice, William was a natural target for the depredations of his fellow students. He learned to persevere through the attempts to fuddle his magic and deny him access to resources by creating alliances with weaker, less ambitious students who were also being overlooked by the guild.

[Master Aropsis once in his cups explained to this writer that William probably misunderstood the entire purpose of the guild in the first place and should never have been accepted.]

This alliance building caused a shift in the apprentice dormitory that culminated in a battle where three apprentices died. Fearing punishment, William fled.

He found himself in the chapel of a Fortress Monastery repenting dearly of his participation in the wicked ways of the mage guild and resolved to join the monks in their contemplation of holy knowledge. In an effort to show true repentance and to placate the mages he cut off his own right hand and had it delivered to the Tower along with an Oath to keep the secrets of the Mages.

The Fire Mages put up a few symbolic protests, but as William was not a prominent figure and had already garnered local sympathy for his dramatic act, they didn’t pursue him with any public vigor. He was, however, quickly shipped to Port Melandir to live in anonymous obscurity in the monastery there.

William was not idle, joining the ranks of the Cyanahim and taking fully to their program of watching and influencing in a subtle way. He realized that by talking Reason to the people of the town and reassuring them of what magic could and could not do, he could offer them alternatives to the guilds and less anxiety about what the future would hold. A group of students at the University began to come to him for advice and to provide him with alms.

On the morning of the first day of Lion’s Age 462, Sister Margaret Artificer heard William speaking to others in his cell. Noting to herself that unsupervised visitors were not allowed within the chambers at such an hour entered his cell to remonstrate with him and eject his guests. He was speaking, not to guests, but to three flaming ghosts who hovered around him. William explained that he had been forgiven by his friends who died but would need to atone and rededicate his life to the service of Cyaniel.

He endured the fire and questions of the inquisition for three nights and the ritual of the Nuranihim for three days. He was found pure and sinless at the end of his ordeals and the Three Fiery Friends were resolved.

William took up the cause of the priesthood with more vigor, showing strength of character where once there was only sensitivity, moral certainty where there once was mere conscience. His followers began to perform like the knives of Cyaniel they were always meant to be, doing their tasks under cover of other activities. Mage apprentices were hard to come by that Summer and the church gained many new priests.

It was in 463 when the followers of William took up the Cards and began to wander the region, teaching the workings of Fate to all who would listen. The stories of the cards helped the most illiterate peasant to remember the tales of the Testimonium and the lessons contained inside. The friars accepted no money for these holy miracles, but would always accept an invitation to dine, so as to learn more about the homes of the people to whom they spoke.

In 465, the rumblings of war had begun again. A Njord fleet approached the Port and some of the Counts had been slow to respond to the general call. Melandir was to be defended by everyone from the Njord threat, but Rogalia is what it is and advantage was gained at the expense of all.

Seeing that this was the place Fate had put him, William ascended the Hill of Apples overlooking the harbor and began to pray. Five of his brethren had come with him, all secretly ‘sparks’ who had been concealed from divination magic by the power of Cyaniel. Their prayers reached up to heaven and the Five Companions pulled the hoods of their Order over their heads and raced down the hill towards the invading fleet. William for his part stood upon the hill and began to chant Words of Power that he had promised never to repeat in his life again, all those years ago.

It is said that day that he completed a spell of such power – combining fire, earth, water, and air – that it stopped the fleet from reaching the port while his Companions slaughtered the captains of the ships that approached, rising up from the water like the face of Judgement with knives that glowed like fire. Witnesses report that William’s hand had been restored to him by the power of Benalus Himself and a few believed it had been replaced by the paw of the White Lion.

[Master Aropsis has drunkenly insisted to this writer that such a spell was impossible and must be the mad ramblings of a fool. ‘One cannot,’ he shouted before he could control himself ‘put all of those elements in one working.’ When asked to explain himself further, Master Aropsis excused himself from my company and has not returned any further communication.]

The city was saved by these efforts and the grace of Benalus and William preached for another fortnight before he was found dead in the Chapel of St. Werner near the University having been drowned, flayed, burned, and crushed. No implements of murder were ever found and his right hand was freshly removed. The church never found the assassins nor were the mages guilds ever available to help investigate.

Upon the sealed testimony of the Nuranihim and Sepharahim who questioned him and the Companions who assisted him in his working, he was lionized on the first day of Autumn, Lion’s Age 475. His Order of the Stars was sanctioned by the Pontifex to continue his work within the law of the Church and the Emperor.

Sahirim: A View from Within

Praedium Record
Translation from memory, source redacted.

Come, sister. A decision to seek enlightenment is the selfsame first step to achieving it. Your heart has learned that you wish this for yourself, and your mind carried you here. The heart is like the rushing of a river, the mind, the rudder of your skiff. Enlightenment is the culmination and quietus to a lifelong journey toward a perfect peace between every facet of your soul. We here at the Temple walk the road to achieving this glorious end in all events of our daily lives. It is not an easy journey, and there will be much pain. Humans, however, can achieve anything that they wish; that is what separates them from animals. Humans can overcome any obstacle because they have the power to silence their fear and their instinct and override them, taking a road that all of their senses tell them not to. For example, drink this. …Good. It is a poison to kill animals.

Shh, now! Do not panic! Your lungs and chest are now full of water. Your throat has collapsed to forbid expulsion. If you do not perform properly, you will drown. Do you understand? I said, do you understand? Good. Now, stop struggling. Stop struggling and breathe the water… Do not refuse me. Relax. Calm yourself. Inhale, feel your reflex to choke, and ignore it. Let it fill your lung, and gently push back out, and up your throat. Good…You lived because you were able to overcome the insanity of your weak inner beast.

What we are doing here does not concern animals who cannot master themselves. If we are ever to be more than we are, we must cease to be what we were. The Temple of Water is a place where humans can learn to be something more. We walk the diamond path toward an enlightenment that will elevate us above the common human condition to something farther, higher, more. Make no mistake. We are here to make a god. Until that time we are cautiously neutral. Why do I tell so much to an uninitiated aspirant such as yourself? Do not worry over that. Tell me, girl. Do you have the spiritual fortitude to endure such a quest? Do you have the breadth of mental acuity it will take to reshape the very perspective of your mind’s eye? We are what we think. All that we are arises from our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world. Can you embrace this fundamental truth or can you not? Decide now whether you be beast or man. … Go home then.

Sahirim: Contact with the Throne

Praedium Archive
Statement of Gioquomo Piegatore, shipwright, La Sorella. Currently under Extraordinary Censure at Arx Fax.

We do a lot of trade here with the temple. Strange kind, them. Even the novices that they send down to buy the sheep and the flatware from time to time seem so peaceful and enlightened. Every once in a while one of the masters comes down and talks to all the farmers and the shopkeepers in the town market. They tell us the principles that we should live by to make our lives important and meaningful. Everyone is part of a circle, they say, and every one of us has a place on it. I know a lot of people’d like to believe that, seeing as how things are going in these times. But the monks of the Water Temple are good to us; they steady the waters during a storm if people are getting hurt, and they make sure that the fishermen can keep their catch. That’s all we need, really. I know they can do more, but I know it’s all we need. I suppose in a lot of ways, we’ve all become dependent on the Temple. We don’t mind though. They’re a lot more easy going than the King.

My niece tried to join them, actually. She’s such a sweet girl, always wanting to help everyone. She loved to listen to the speeches that the monks would give in the market about the Truth and the ways which a man could become better, more than he was. She wanted to live out those principles, be more than she was so she could do more for others. Such a sweet girl. She talked to the Novices and asked how she could be like them, and they sent her to the monastery to speak to one of the masters. I don’t know what they said or did. I don’t know what went on up on the hill, that day. But she came home a wreck, said she didn’t understand, would never understand, didn’t want to understand the Truths of the world. She took her life that summer, bless her. Such a sweet girl.

Even so, I don’t blame the Temple for that. That was her choice, and the monastery has always been good to us. Everyone and every thing is part of a circle, they say.

Edicto Discidium

On this, the 13th of Maius in the Lion Age, 603, I with the power vested in me by The Lord Holy God, by way of Master, Hand, and Throne, in confirmation of the Electors of Königreich, Meerland, Immervald, Kronenland, Bösewald, Tristrand, Weiterland, the Vicar of Holy Benalus and Pontifex over Holy Lethia, in its Gottreich, by the Parliament of Lords Temporal and Spiritual, the Royal King of Hestralia, the Sanctified King of Capacionne, Who is In God’s Grace, and the King over the Cold Throne of Njordr, do make the following declaration as fact:

My vassals, both direct and indirect, who hold the titles, rights and duties of noble status, bound by Auctoritas are admonished to uphold the highest class of fidelity, righteousness and duty to the Throne. No member of my service shall be tolerated to commit Verfall actions and behavior unbefitting of a noble, which has and shall continue to include the acts of marriage to a commoner, to accept a wage for work befitting a caste menial, or the dereliction of duty to the Throne. To these crimes I preemptively rebuke as Insult against the Reich, and they have and shall carry with them the penalty of Adelsverlust, the stripping of status of nobility.

I declare that I do include in my judgment of Verfall the professions and memberships of chartered Trade Guilds which include the Guilds of Magicians, and as such I recognize no distinction between such Guilds and all others, and thus do rightly extend all bylaws of the Imperial Trade Charter over and throughout the Guilds of Magicians, including and especially Article 1 Trade Protections. Members of the Throne’s nobility may not be members of Trade Guilds of any kind under penalty of Adelsverlust. Those nobles which are not under the legal separation of the Pactum Domini who also maintain membership within a Guild of Magicians may accept Adelsverlust without further indictment under Auctoritas. Past actions taken in the auspice of Auctoritas before such Adelsverlust are pardoned and protected, and may not be prosecuted under common law. Nobles who renounce membership in their Guilds and neither accept further instruction nor continue to practice their craft under Guild Charter may retain their status after swearing and certifying an oath to that effect to the Officio Auctoritas.

Ex Soliorum,

Siegfried von Herkheist

Quod Fiet Operis Cordis (The Charred Heart)

A nickname used in campfire stories, whispered in hushed tones, The Charred Heart is a colorful moniker for one of the Inquisition’s more infamous members: Mephis Antagones.

Reputed to be utterly devoid of mercy where Heresy is concerned, it is said that he leaves no stone unburnt in purging heretics from a city.
The Charred Heart has frequently put whole families to the fire, men, women and children, and he has shown no reluctance to employ the methods of torture on even the young.
One of a number of stories recounts the young farmer Peris, found to be guilty of accepting assistance in the fields from a Vecatran, during a drought; Peris wanted only to provide food for his family, but the rains would not come, and nothing would grow. When the Vecatran offered to aid him in restoring his farm to a productive state, Peris succumbed to the temptation.
The Charred Heart put Peris to death and burned his farm and livestock to ash, but not before dismembering his wife and children in front of him.

The Charred Heart is constantly vigilant against the dangers of Heresy, and if he shows up in your city, Agony and Death come with him.

Praeceptor Caecus: A View from Within

Praedium Record
Recorded conversation via sworn statement, identity redacted.

When all of humanity conspired to create debate, the possibility for factions of thought was born. In that moment, ideals were given more weight than swords, and words could kill as easily as arrows.  Paper become the dart of the powerful, and knowledge the mark of the mighty.  Praeceptor Caecus is the refinement of that idea into a perfect communication of intellect and purpose. The most artful assassin needs never raise his hand in violence, nor ever appear at the scene. There is a power and a beauty in the simplicity of pulling one delicate string and destroying the entire interlocking spider’s web of deceit and lies.

They are the ones who can go anywhere, take anything, and be whatever we need to be. It is about a fluid and changing idea that can only be felt, and never seen. Politics, faith, ideas and theatrics are all of our domain, and all can be played like music. You will learn this, never fear. The power of the wind will give you the insights that you need into the head of a man. You need only listen, and it will come. You can hear it already, but it confuses you. It is like listening to a wind-chime and trying to guess from the sound how many chimes hang from it. But you will learn. You will learn to dance, and to sing, and to play coy, and exactly when to hold your tongue and exactly when to speak precisely out of turn.

Praeceptor Caecus has no home base, and thus our organization is immune to assault. Our motives are as simple and as elegant as the wind which sails it along, and you need never wonder of the complexity of our purpose. We exist to make sure things flow the way they must; to direct the channel of that fluid through a tunnel of our design so that humanity and the Throne and all the other things we hold important thrive in exactly the manner that they should, and none more than is necessary. Our assassins create no noise, and no disturbance, delicately depriving their victim of air while waiting patiently below the currents of water where everyone knows no one can breathe. Our spies eavesdrop on conversations six locked doors and two hallways thence, even while hurrying the same information they learn along the winds to our relayers in the field. Our courtesans demand every bit the attention they deserve from exactly who they need to see them, and deftly glide into the center of everything, where the web believes itself strongest.

Never you worry. It all seems hazy and nebulous now. But things will clarify, and blow all that smoke away soon. For now, go out to the balcony, and listen to the wind-chime on the other side of the manor. Come back when you know how many chimes sing its chorus.

Praeceptor Caecus: A View from Without

Praedium Record
Recorded Statement of Karl von Amsel regarding “Air Magic”

Praeceptor Caecus is something that everyone knows exists, but few have ever seen evidence of. I heard that at least one member of every council of elders, one member of every city government, one member of every major crime ring, one member of every smuggling division, and even that one member of the Archmagus Circle in the other Guilds is a member of their cadre.

I met what I could have been one once. He spoke like a gentleman at the party. Had every lady all over him, even the governor’s wife. I couldn’t believe that the governor didn’t do anything about it. He pretended not to notice, and took another mulled wine. When I went to talk with him, I figured I’d listen for a little while and then try to say something interesting when I figured out what was being discussed. But by the time I was over there, they were knee-deep in a conversation about how I was coming over to say something interesting. Everyone talking to the man turned and looked at me, waiting for me to say something profound, and I froze and looked a fool. The women stifled smirks at me, failing to be polite. Then the man called me by name and asked me not to be embarrassed, to sit down, and enjoy some of the governor’s wine. I did, of course. I was already indebted to the man who had just made me look ridiculous.

Later that night, I looked for him to ask him just what had happened at the conversation and how he knew what I was planning to say. I couldn’t find him, however. I asked four different groups of people where he was in the gallery, and everyone gave a different answer saying that they had known for sure that he was in the west wing, or the north wing. It was like trailing a ghost, each time I got to where he was supposed to be, they hadn’t seen him anywhere but another wing. And nobody thought that that was very strange at all.

I only saw him one more time that night; he was kissing the hand of the Abbess of Markhem. She blushed terribly. After that, he left in a carriage owned by the largest shipmaker in this part of the Throne, as the same shipmaker waved him goodbye.

I only heard later that the south wing was robbed that night some time during the party, and the only thing stolen was a rare opal given by the Elves to the Von Herkheist at the formation of the Throne. I never saw him again.

Infragilis Vigilo: A View From Within

Praedium Archive
Intercepted Communication, Earth Magician Internal Business

Ever since man’s first forays into magic, we have sought to become so much more than living a life content as nature’s children. We sought to rise above its predictable mercies. We sought to become its master. The Infrigilis Vigilo is but the gateway to such mastery.

We control the land, the plants, the food and thusly the means for life itself. Animals pay homage to us and recognize our greatness.

Yes, apprentice, this includes man. Men are but complex animals. It is true that we too are men by flesh and blood, but much like how it is the minds of men that raise them above animals it is our own minds that raise us above them.

All mankind rests beneath us, apprentice, and you are expected to understand this. Peasantry, nobility, your former friends, your former family. Yes, even your own mother and father, for they are but geese that have lain golden eggs and have chosen to remain geese in all other ways. So abandon them, young apprentice. Abandon them all, for one day it may be your task to destroy them. For although man is the most complex of animals, it is also the most dangerous. It consumes and is never satisfied. It grows and is never finished. That is why we must contain them. Herd them like the cattle they are. These cities we build are their prisons. Their stables… and one day it may be time for the slaughter.

However, apprentice, do not be forlorn with this knowledge. Rejoice for you have risen above your stock. Your once insignificant existence has blossomed into something far greater. Welcome to the inner circle.

Infragilis Vigilo: A View From Without

Praedium Archive
Statement by Johann Haber, Gothic Merchant operating out of Fenristadt (License Suspended)

Society as we know it wouldn’t really exist without the help of the Earth Mages. It was the Earth Guild who designed the first bridges strong enough for wagon trains. It was the Earth Guild who designed and built the walls we erect around our cities to keep out invaders. It was the Earth Guild who laid the roads out between the capital and all of it’s extremities so that people didn’t need to navigate the woods or its dangers any longer. It’s the Earth Mages that bore tunnels through mountain sides or make hills more gentle for travel. The important cities of the Throne all have walls that make them resilient to siege weaponry. Having the Infragilis Vigilo on our side makes living in the cities more secure than anywhere else. They are truly the architects and wardens of humanity. They are constantly designing new ideas to make life more efficient for the people of the Throne. They’ve arranged special trade routes between cities like the famous “Emporer’s Ride”, the trade road that travels between Fenristadt and Scrow but takes half the time of a journey of similar length anywhere else. Any time a new town needs to be set up in the wilderness, the Earth Mages are there to lay the ground work and make sure the roads between the nearest point are safe and easy.

The Throne keeps them busy maintaining the upkeep of all the structures they’ve made. Once a year or so they send someone out to put a new enchantment on the roads, or the walls, or the castle keeps where the nobles stay. They’re always paid well for that, and no one wants to be without such a security. I believe they have everyone’s best interest in mind; everyone needs a job, and theirs protects everyone.

No one knows where they meet or where they study though. Some people say it’s out in the wild, far away from the cities. Other people say it’s underground, maybe even beneath the cities down below the very sewers that they laid down. They seem to enjoy their privacy, because I’ve never heard of an Earth Mage living inside the cities that they upkeep. If the only price we have to pay is their fee and the respect of their privacy, I say we have a good deal for the knowledge that we don’t ever have to venture too far out into the wilds to maintain our lives and happiness. God bless them.