Asherons Call: August Rollout Article is Up!

Ranarre stood outside the door to the King's private study, breathing deeply to steady his nerves. He closed his eyes, took one last breath, and knocked on the door. There was a pause of a few heartbeats, and then he heard the King's voice come through the door: "Enter."

He opened the door and stepped through. The only illumination in the room was a guttering candle on the King's desk. King Varicci II, monarch of the domain of New Viamont, sat at the desk, his face lit luridly by the flickering light of the candle. The overall effect to Ranarre's eyes was that his King sat suspended in a tenuous bubble of light in the darkness of the room.

"Come forward, where I can see your face. Your name is Ranarre, yes?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Ranarre stepped into the light and looked at his King. Varicci's eyes were bloodshot, his hair was unkempt, his face unshaven, and he smelled like hadn't bathed in a few days. Ranarre then risked a glance at the papers on the desk. He saw a complicated diagram with precisely rendered drawings of a Ruschk, a Mukkir, and a shadowy humanoid form that he'd come to recognize as the "Shadows" that so intrigued his former master, the disgraced Count Dardante. The sides of the pages were covered with scrolling sigils in an arcane language that Ranarre had spent the last several months studying.

Varicci noted this and smiled ever so faintly. "Yes," he said, answering Ranarre's unasked question, "this is the result of the cooperation for which you argued so convincingly. I believe we have solved the mystery of Grael. Your ideas were the seed of our solution."

"That is good news, Your Majesty," Ranarre murmured.

"You should be rewarded for your vision and perseverance. Even when Dardante threatened you, a mere field researcher, for questioning his intentions, you did not back down."

"I am grateful that you think well of my efforts, Your Majesty. It was only my duty."

"Yes... duty. Let us now speak of the future of your organization."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

Varicci grimaced. "I made a mistake with Dardante." He looked searchingly into Ranarre's eyes. Ranarre tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Finally, Varicci continued. "I was so desperate to find a weapon that I could use to crush the Bloodless Queen, I failed to see that Dardante had gone out of my control. I then compounded my mistake by putting him in charge of the Rossu Morta. It accelerated his own fall into madness, and his agenda corrupted the organization. Do you agree with my assessment?"

Ranarre took another deep, steadying breath, then looked directly into his King's cold eyes and nodded. "I do, Your Majesty. Dardante began working for his own ends and was given too much latitude to do so."

Varicci nodded. It was a quick movement, the barest twitch of his head, but Ranarre caught it. "The mistakes I made have caused me to reconsider my actions. There are forces at work in this world, I finally have realized, that are... dangerous to treat with." He sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. Ranarre was mildly shocked. He had never seen the King this tired or uncertain of himself. He finally felt compelled to prompt the King with a question.

"What will you do, Your Majesty?" Varicci stared off into space, and Ranarre began to think the King was just ignoring him. Finally, he looked back at Ranarre and spoke.

"I will not disband the Rossu Morta. They can still be a potent tool, because we are not done with the Bloodless Queen. I still need their services. But they are worse than useless if I cannot trust them."

"I will help you in any way I can, Your Majesty. But I must warn you, it will not be easy to root out the corrupt elements."

"I know, Ranarre. It seems to me that many of my advisors in recent days have been foolish or corrupt. You are one of the few who has been willing to speak the truth to me. Several high-ranking officers of the Rossu Morta stood in this room, in the very spot where you stand now, and assured me that every bloody-handed assassin and soul-devouring mage in the organization was loyal. Each of those liars has been tossed to the Eaters."

Ranarre swallowed nervously and lowered his eyes. Varicci measured his silence and went on. "I have a mind to put you in charge of the Rossu Morta, Ranarre. You had the courage to confront Dardante and the honesty to speak unpleasant truths to me. You have proven yourself to have a keen analytical mind. Your work in the field has shown you to be adaptable and versatile. You are the one I would trust to reshape the Rossu Morta into a focused, effective, and loyal organization."

Ranarre sank to his knees. "I am not worthy of this honor, Your Majesty. I am just a researcher, not a soul-binder or a fighter."

Varicci chuckled. "And you are so thoroughly unambitious, I would not worry about you usurping the Rossu Morta's loyalties from underneath me. Would you deny my request?"

"I would not, Your Majesty. I am yours to command."

"Good, then. Rise, Count Ranarre, new Grand Master of the Ordina Rossu Morta. May your tenure be longer and less turbulent than your predecessor's."

Knees shaking, Ranarre stood. "I suggest you find some trustworthy lieutenants and bodyguards. Your task will be dangerous. I will give you what aid I can - but I think it is critical that you master the organization without relying on me. You must prove yourself to those you would lead. Move cautiously, but surely. You must find a proper balance between prudence and boldness. And if there is anyone who gives you reason to doubt their loyalties... You must kill them, quickly and mercilessly."

"As you say, Your Grace." Ranarre nodded, though sweat was already beading on his forehead, and his thoughts were taking an increasingly panicked tone.

"Now... I'd like to take advantage of your expertise on another matter," Varicci said. He opened a desk drawer, withdrew a small figure, and set it on the desk. It was like a children's doll, but black, batwinged, and crafted in the shape of the demon, Grael.

"Our agents obtained this from a newcomer in Sanamar who proclaimed himself to be an emissary of Ulgrim, that old drunk in Ayan Baqur. What in the name of Karlun's glowing bones is it for?"