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Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Gathered on the Queen Niccolo and Vincenzo

As Delluth and Claudio withdrew, on Goran's heels, Niccolo was left in the room with Vincenzo, and Allegra hovering in the door.

Vincenzo waited until they were out of the room before he looked to Allegra sill hovering nearby. "Portia?"

"Went with the Baroness," the young woman dutifully replied. "Shall I attend to bin Freman since Claudio has gone off with Delluth?" At Vincenzo's nod, she went to escort the merchant out and to perhaps find something else to take his mind off things for a time.

The Zito then turned to Niccolo. "Bene? Cosa ne sai?"

Niccolo turned and exhaled smoke towards the place Allegra had vacated, watching the smoke swirl for a moment. "I know that I do not like leaving the Prime Minister alone with Petra." He gestured, "Let's continue this in my office, Si?. I imagine a crew will be on its way shortly to clean up this mess, they should wear gloves." He shook his head, and puffed on his cigar. "Mandor had some interesting things to say, as did Goran." He patted the crossbow borrowed from the other man's office. "At the very least, I did not have to shoot anyone." Niccolo met Vincenzo's eyes, "Or show my cards. Molto Bene, Si?"

He stepped out of the room to wait for Vincenzo, and retraced his steps, intending to return the crossbow to its place.

Vincenzo fell into step with him, muttering darkly in the dialect of Roma. "Ragno or El Gatto; which is worse? It is hard to say.... The woman, she has no sense of s� protezione."

Someone was heading towards them, a witty, urbane man who was the Under Ambassador at the Begman Embassy - a Count Sergio Odelenski (and the younger brother of Begma's Prime Minister).

"Ah, Vincenzo!" he said, in fluent Cornaro. "I trust matters are in hand? I saw the altercation earlier ... I do hope our ... ah ... Eregnorian friend is not presently feeding with the fishes for his ... ah ... impetuousity."

Vincenzo's inclined in his slightly in greeting. "Not at the moment," he replied smoothly and then smiled, though the darkness around him did not quite lift. "How may we assist you this evening, Count Odelenski?"

"I believe you have some of those cigars I favour," said the Count, unblushingly. "And I just wanted to enquire - are we sailing a little beyond our usual range this evening?"

"Do you see, Nicco? Even the patrons, they know when I have these," Vincenzo lamented with a touch of humor as he reached into his jacket for one of his cigars and offered it to the Count. "I believe Antonia felt adding a little time to everyone's evening was in order after the earlier excitement," he answered the third man without even a twitch. "Most will not even notice. Why do you ask?"

"Only patrons of exquisite taste, Zito." Niccolo replied with a small smile, still smoking his cigar. He offered his hand to the count. "Niccolo d'Medici, a pleasure, Sir." He nodded at Vincenzo's answer. "Long enough for the patrons to consider that unhappy interruption to be simply a forgettable moment in an otherwise unforgettable evening, Si?"

"Thank you," said Count Sergio, taking a cigar and rolling it between his fingers. "And a pleaure to meet you, Signor d'Medici." His smile was warm, the perfect diplomat.

"I only asked as it seemed we have crossed some small Shadow boundary," he added.

Vincenzo appeared unconcerned at this revelation. "Ahh... We will have you back to the docks in time, Count Odelenski. Worry not." He looked pointedly at the cigar in the Count's hand. "I will be in Cornaro on business in the afternoon. I will pick you up a case of those." He smiled. "You should not have to hunt them down, afterall. If there is nothing else we can do for you, I should get back to my rounds and giving Niccolo a tour of the facilities."

"Thank you," said the Count with a smile. "You shall have my gratitude, humble though it is."

He bowed, reading to move away again.

Niccolo smiled, and puffed on his cigar for a moment, before nodding. "I'm sure we will meet again, a gentleman of taste, such as yourself, may find some of my various imports of interest. Cigars, and more, I daresay."

Vincenzo inclined his head politely. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," he said urbanely before turning to Niccolo.

The head of Medici inclined his head briefly, "Good evening, Count."

"Shall we?" he asked, even as he started walking back towards the main lounge.

Niccolo fell into step beside Vincenzo, he glanced at the other man, and then rolled his eyes upward. "Never a dull moment, Si?"

Hands clasped casually behind his back, Vincenzo leaned slightly towards Medici. "A trip to the wheelhouse is in order to chat with Angelo. I would not know- and could not ask in front of the ambassador, si? But did you feel our passage through a Shadow?"

"No. I was curious how the Count would have even had a clue. No one on staff could have mentioned it." Niccolo replied quietly. "Assuming, of course, we did in fact pass through a Shadow boundary, which I did not feel." He adjusted the strap of the slung crossbow and nodded. "Let's have a word with Angelo, and make certain there weren't any strangers in the wheelhouse." Zito diBeneditto scowled briefly and spoke lowly. "There is too much happening, Nicco. I do not like it one bit. There are too many shape changers and enemies in our midsts."

"Your ability to understate has yet to fail you, Zito." Niccolo replied.

"It is a gift," Vincenzo remarked dryily. "Monello."

He paused when Stalmos approached them and gestured the blonde philosopher to his other side. "Close off the interrogation room as a medically quarantined zone. No - the whole end of the hall, including my office. Aura, she will know what you need to do that. Go."

Once the man had strode off, he turned back to Nicco "This way," he gestured and led him off the main corridor once again and to another hidden panel that slide aside to reveal another hidden passage, this one a set of narrow stairs.

Niccolo followed Vincenzo, smoking his cigar as he went. He adjusted the strap of the crossbow, and resettled it across his back. "If we have crossed into Shadow, Vincenzo. Our problems, they are only beginning. Unless they have followed a trade route, which should not be an issue this close to shore. This is not a deep water vessel."

"I am aware of these things," Vincenzo replied from in front of him as he quickly took the stairs two at a time. "On calm waters, we would be fine. But the sea is a temperamental bitch... and it would behoove whoever has moved us through Shadow -if we have -to make certain I never find them."

It did not take long for them to reach the end of the stairs. The hidden door at the end came out under a set of stairs. Vincenzo closed the passage behind Nicco then moved swiftly up the final flight of open stairs that led from the topmost regular deck to the topmost open deck from which Angelo worked. Unless the evening's events called for it, very few people actually chose to spend much time on this level when they were moving. Vincenzo moved smoothly across the floorboards to the wheelhouse.

Niccolo followed easily, looking left and right as he walked. The open field had his free hand straying towards the crossbow's grip. He shook his head, and looked towards where Amber's shore should be. Cigar smoke curled up into the sky, and trailed behind him as he moved. Niccolo's amethyst eyes narrowed slightly as he went, thought whatever he was thinking, he kept to himself.

Amber's shore was where it should be, faint lights on the horizon. The full moon glowed overhead and that most beautiful of sights, the city of Tir-na Nog'th was glimmering into view in the night sky, clear and mysterious.

Angelo greeted them cheerfully enough.

"This is rather fine," he said. "Have we slipped through Shadow in your honour, Signor?"

He was addressing Niccolo.

And it was just as well that he was, because Vincenzo was looking up at the full moon and Tir as if he had never seen them before. He silently picked up Angelo's telescope from where it sat on the shelf at the door of the wheelhouse and moved to the rail, where he trained the scope on Tir.

"Thank you," said the Count with a smile. "You shall have my gratitude, humble though it is."

He bowed, readying to move away again.

Vincenzo inclined his head politely. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," he said urbanely before turning to Niccolo.

The head of Medici inclined his head briefly, "Good evening, Count."

"Shall we?" he asked, even as he started walking back towards the main lounge.

Niccolo fell into step beside Vincenzo, he glanced at the other man, and then rolled his eyes upward. "Never a dull moment, Si?"

"Thank you," said Count Sergio, taking a cigar and rolling it between his fingers. "And a pleaure to meet you, Signor d'Medici." His smile was warm, the perfect diplomat.

"I only asked as it seemed we have crossed some small Shadow boundary," he added.

"Thank you," said the Count with a smile. "You shall have my gratitude, humble though it is."

He bowed, reading to move away again.

Vincenzo inclined his head politely. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," he said urbanely before turning to Niccolo.

The head of Medici inclined his head briefly, "Good evening, Count."

"Shall we?" Vincenzo asked, even as he started walking back towards the main lounge.

Niccolo fell into step beside Vincenzo, he glanced at the other man, and then rolled his eyes upward. "Never a dull moment, Si?"

Zito diBeneditto scowled briefly and spoke lowly. "There is too much happening, Nicco. I do not like it one bit. There are too many shape changers and enemies in our midsts."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said Angelo admiringly. "You'd think it was the real this if you didn't know better."

Vincenzo lowered the telescope and turned to give Angelo a narrow look. "This shift, it happened when?" He asked lowly, dangerously. "I am interested in hearing just why you did not see fit to let anyone know of this change in itinerary, which was unscheduled?"

"I noticed the change some fifteen minutes ago," said Angelo. "The word was, you were all rather pre-occupied. I don't know how long ago the shift occurred."

Niccolo's eyes had turned to Tir Na Nog'th and remained there. The light of the moon reflected in the amethyst depths of his eyes. His cigar was held in his fingers, forgotten, wisps of smoke curling from the fading ember at its end. For a moment he was silent as Vincenzo asked rather pointed question of Angelo. He had even missed the other man's initial, if respectful address, as he had spotted the full moon and the City in the Sky practically upon reaching the wheelhouse.

His eyes finally turned to Angelo, "No, nothing of the sort was meant to happen in my honor." Niccolo paused, "Were you at the wheel when it happened? Did you notice anyone on deck or at the bow?

"No," said Angelo. "The night was a little misty when we started. It cleared fully about half an hour ago and then I saw the full moon anf the city in the sky. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Niccolo tilted his head, "Wait." His purple eyes narrowed, "How long have we been out in the bay?" He waited a beat for the answer, "And how long did we sidetrack into Shadow for?"

"About four hours," said Angelo, with a glance at Vincenzo to confirm this. "And we slipped Shadow ... about forty minutes ago?"

Once again, Niccolo refocused, his eyes going to Tir, his amethyst gaze going distant.

Vincenzo made an impatient noise at Angelo. "Was that before or after the explosion that rocked the ship?"

Niccolo cursed in basest Cornaran. Were he closer to paint, it would surely have peeled off the wooden surface of the boat, as it was, it should burn the boards beneath his feet. "Vincenzo, I think I found the problem. I also believe I know why we passed through Shadow." His eyes were on Tir and the Bay below it. "Angelo, head us back to the City. Now, but keep our speed, slow down when we near that point." Niccolo pointed, "Stop when I tell you to."

He looked to Vincenzo, "Zito, I might need Goran. Find him swiftly." Niccolo's gaze hardened, "Petra may want to take command of the boat. When you come back, call out, don't touch me." He looked between the men, "Rapidamente!"

Niccolo walked to the railing closest to the Amber side of the Queen, and tossed his cigar into the water, he moved along when ( or if ) the Queen began to turn, focusing on the way ahead, his purple eyes wide and bright in the light of the full moon.

The Queen began to gain speed, heading toward Amber ...

Angelo cast a startled look at the wheel he had been holding a little negligently, and then towards Niccolo.

Vincenzo, heading towards the stairway down to Patra's quarters, turned back to look at Niccolo, with something of a questioning frown. Then he moved forward again, more swiftly.

And the Queen continued to move steadily toward the barrier, increasing speed.

Niccolo gaged the distance and called out to Angelo, "Be ready to drop anchor!" He considered things a moment, "Count to one hundred and ALL STOP! Pray that I weighed the odds well!"

The order given, with hard, clear, amethyst eyes and an expression that left no room for discussion, Niccolo positioned himself in the bow, and gripped the railing. His eyes focused ahead, his gaze bright, his focus sharp, as his nostrils flared slightly with the inhalation of a deep breath. Niccolo brought his Will to bear.

The ship shuddered to a halt.

Niccolo was reaching out with immense power ... unseen at first by Angelo.

And then ... it was a though blue lighting crackled against a shell of glass. Long filaments writhed up and down, testing the curce of a section of the hemisphere, burning with pale fury in the night. A portion of what stood before the Queen was clearly outlined for a moment - the invisible barrier ...

The light seemed to be starting to pulse ...

If Niccolo was surprised by the sudden blaze of light and dancing lightning, it did not show upon his face. His purple eyes reflected the light of the energy upon the invisible barrier, and his hands still firmly gripped the rail, his knuckles whitening slightly. His brow furrowed, as he seemed to invest more of himself into his effort.

And then he sensed something in the barrier changed. Far from repelling him ... it seemed to be trying to soak up as much of his force as it could ...

Wood creaked under Niccolo's hands as he stared at the barrier as if it offended him. His jaw clenched, his eyes closed, and when they opened again -- his lip curled in a lupine snarl, and he seemed to lean into the effort.

And the power was still being pulled ... but somehow it seemed to pool there, to gather ...

As though something was preparing to return it. Forcefully.

Meanwhile, inside the wheelhouse, the door burst open as Goran entered. "What's going on?!" he demanded of Angelo urgently while scanning his surroundings.

Angelo shook his head, and then broke into Cornaran. He didn't know - and he'd rather not know, by all the gods of his forefathers! But there was something ahead - see - that curved glowing blue thing? And Master de Medici was focusing all his powerful attention on it ... see, it was glowing brighter ... and brighter ...

Goran cursed, his jaw dropping in stupefication at the power struggle unfolding before him. He clapped Angelo on the shoulder. "Hold 'er steady," he said before going outside. It sounded more like a benediction that a command.

Not wanting to distract Niccolo, Goran remained back beside the wheelhouse. He reached up and gripped the edge of the roof to steady himself, then forced his own pattern energy into the mix, focusing at what he determined to be the weakest point in the force against them.

As Goran began to put pressure on too, he became aware of how the globe seemed to be seeking to draw off their power, perhaps dissipating it, perhaps seeking to draw it into a weapon to us against them, a monstrous recoil ...

And Niccolo was aware of Goran beside him too - his Pattern emergy pounding into the mix ...

Angelo was screaming out to them now as he fought to hold the ship steady...

(OOC - It might be something along the lines of "Cap'n, the engines, the ship cannae take it anymore!" But with a Cornarian accent, of course)

Once Goran felt the power draw, he cursed again and shut down the flow. "Medici! Shut it down! We're feeding it!" he shouted, unsure whether Niccolo could hear him through his concentration. Instead, Goran turned his energy inward, wrapping it around to envelop as much of the ship as he could from his position. He hoped the Pattern could be used more effectively as a shield than as a weapon.

Niccolo growled, and grunted, and nodded. "I know! It's building for feedback!"

He looked for someplace to displace the energy, and looked up at the only other thing that should not be; the Full Moon. Niccolo tried to draw the Pattern energy back, letting up on the bubble, and reapplying the energies.

The Pattern light faded, crackling (on lower decks there was a disappointed "Ohhh!" as their firework show ended as a bit of a damp squib).

And then the light seemed to retreat, to hang as a pool in the air and begin to swirl, becoming denser and opaque, like a cloud, swirling round and round, like a hurricane ... a tornado of pale blue cloud, riven with streaks of flashing blue light ... a tornado of Pattern. And then it began to elongate, stretching up into the air.

Admiring gasps came from the lower deck.

Niccolo's eyebrows shot up; he had not considered the fact that his light show would have an apparently admiring audience. He shrugged very slightly, swift action was a necessity, and he'd already worked out at least one way to cover his actions.

His posture did not change, though his gaze had turned up to the moon, his purple eyes reflecting the flashes of light. Where his hands had been on the railing, there were now slight impressions in it, where Niccolo's grip had tightened. His hands were at his side, curled into loose fists, as he stared at the whirl of energy and air, exerting his Will in a new direction, and inadvertently entertaining the Queen's customers. Niccolo meant to hide the very celestial object that someone seemed to very much want revealed.

The clouds could not shoot forward but there now definitely seemed something urgent in their drift as they headed purposefully to intersect between the moon and the fabulous city ...

Niccolo remained on deck, looking at the sky and the clouds. He continued to push his Will into his plan, focused on completing it, and obscuring the Moon.

Finally, Niccolo's motives became clear. Until this point, Goran had not been certain of what the newcomer had been trying to do with his pattern-technics. Now it made sense. Goran nodded appreciatively. This guy did indeed know his stuff.

The clouds were moving steadily forward ...

Sensing that Niccolo had matters in hand, Goran chose not to assist to avoid interfering. Too many cooks and all that. Instead, he dropped his own pattern energy and turned his attention shoreward. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a trump depicting a small flat with wooden ceiling beams, white plaster walls and a compact fireplace. The windows in the picture exposed the wrought-iron railings of a second-floor porch beyond. Goran reached his mind into the trump, trying to look into the room as if looking at it from a doorway, gazing out the windows as if they were truly across the room. He did not, however, step forward.

The first thing he noticed was a very slight disturbance in his room - a scrap of white, as though something had been pushed under the door - a letter or a message of some kind. Then, as he moved to the windows and looked out he saw the usual view of the city ... looking calm and peaceful ...

Goran frowned. To pick up the message, he would have to step through the trump and he did not want to leave the Queen to do that. It would have to wait.

The street beyond his windows seemed peaceful enough, which could either mean that it was, or there was some powerful force making it appear so. Impossible to tell at this point. Not enough there to justify going through though. He squinted into the trump, trying to see the distant harbor beyond the trees outside his window.

He could, from this angle, see the wharf where trouble had occurred this morning. Surprisingly enough, a thin pillar of smoke was rising from it, although surely even the afternmath of the fire had been stamped out earlier?

And, high overhead in the sky, a thin plume at the very apex of the rising pattern cloud shivered lightly against the moon. The silver stairs appeared to flicker ... and then were back as solid as before.

But the cloud was rising ...

Niccolo was very still on the deck of the Queen. The slight rolling of the boat did not see to impact his balance, as his eyes remained intent on the cloud with its dancing blue light.

Satisfied that there was nothing more to see through the trump that he could not see better from here, Goran closed the connection and put the card back in his jacket pocket. He ducked into the wheelhouse and grabbed a spyglass off the bulkhead. Back on the open deck, he pointed the glass upward to get a better look at the advancing pattern cloud.

He could see that, although the point seemed almost a definitive thing from a distance, it was actually more wispy closer up. It was starting to nibble at the disc of the moon now ... perhaps an eighth was already covered. Soon the mysterious stairs would waver and vanish - and the tiny, distant people that Goran could make out would doubtless fall to their deaths.

A rustle of silk behind him suggested that someone had joined them. He could probably guess who it was, even before he heard Angelo's greeting.

"Padrona."

Petra nodded to Angelo and then stole his binoculars from under the counter. She had no idea how much concentration was needed for whatever the two men were doing, so she left them alone and went to stand went to stand beside Portia; near Nicco but not close enough to be distracting. She brought the binoculars to her eyes and focused in the direction of the docks.

She could see smoke rising - the aftermath of a fire, banked down. Too recent to have been this morning's fire ... but every indication that this fire too had been extinguished.

Niccolo was aware, on some level, that Portia and Petra were both on deck. He had not greeted Portia when she arrived, nor did he turn to greet Petra when came on deck. His eyes remained fixed on the sky, and his mind equally focused on his purpose. His amethyst eyes blinked only occasionally, it seemed, and he barely seemed to move. The tension in his jawline was clear, as it was in the line of his shoulders despite the impeccably tailored suit.

Goran lowered the glass at his employer's approach. "People on the stairs," he frowned ominously. Goran now had no doubt as to who that might be up there. He sent forth his own pattern energy more subtly, feeling for and backing away from any interference with Niccolo's work. He sought for the high, wispy clouds that generally precede an approaching front, working to paint a delicate but effective backdrop for Niccolo's more stunning artwork across the moon.

The clouds gathered, drifting ... more and more ... the stairs were wavering, flickering in and out of existence it seemed ...

Lowering the binoculars with a frown, Petra turned her eyes skyward to see what progress Nicco had made. Then her eyes moved to the flickering stairs and she raised the glasses again to watch Tir. Too far away to make out real detail, she huffed and handed Portia the glasses.

She watched Nicco and Goran a moment, chewing at her lower lip thoughtfully before moving away from the rail and across the deck from the two so fiercely concentrating. There was someone she should probably report a few of the evening's events to. She pulled out a card on focused on the visage of the King.

Niccolo's head tilted, almost imperceptibly, to one side, at the subtle addition of Goran's energy. Carefully, he added the other man's power to that which he had already wrought, whipping the wind to greater ferocity, encouraging the clouds to grow and pile into a great cumulonimbus that would darken the night sky.

And then, with shocking suddenness, the city and the stair were gone. And almost simulataneously, the dome surrounding Amber shattered into a million glittering shards that winked out of existence in tiny flickers of rainbow light.

The watching crowd on the lower deck applauded this fresh display.

Niccolo took a step towards the railing, and gripped it with one hand. He lowered his eyes from the sky, and gazed out across the water at the state of the docks, before turning towards Goran. He gave the other man a salute and a nod, before he turned to Petra who was standing nearby. "Well, Petralina, I think we can continue our circuit." He said calmly, after taking a deep breath. "I could use a good drink, and a better cigar."

Goran returned the salutations, along with a smirk of admiration for a job well done.

Niccolo regarded Petra with a very subtle smile, "Your patrons, I hope they do not expect such a show every night, Si?"

She was tapping a trump card against the nails of the opposite hand when she snorted. "My heart, I do not think could take another night such as this, mi caro."

Petra looked to the other young man at the rail. "Goran? Would you care to join us? I would like your thoughts on an earlier matter."

"Of course, Marchesa," he said, leaving the rail and slipping automatically back into the role of employee despite his recent pattern display.

"Angelo!" Petra called to the captain near the wheelhouse. "Have one of your hands keep a forward watch on the harbor. Make sure we can actually dock before we get there, and let me know immediately if we cannot. There has been another fire, you see..."

Petra then selected another card from her deck. "I believe we will take the shortcut, gentlemen." She focused opening the gate swiftly (she hopes) and then gestured them through to her office.

Niccolo took a moment to clap Goran lightly on the shoulder, before turning towards Angelo briefly when the helmsman was given his orders. He turned back to Petra, eyeing the card in her hand with mild curiosity. He quirked an eyebrow when she mentioned taking a shortcut; it was a single boat after all, her haste was an indication that his first night in aboard the Ramblin' Queen was far from over. "By all means, Marchesa, let us proceed below."

They stepped through to the office without any problems. It was quite empty now.

Petra waved Nicco to the barcart where he would find his good drink and better cigar. Then she dropped into the chair she had not long before dropped a body into. "Merda. What a night. Nicco, can you have our new physician see that the former heir to the throne of Eregnor is properly cleaned up so we can attempt to return him to his family in a manner befitting his station?"

"Goran," Petra continued. "I fear we have a lot more to do at the docks now. Someone forged an order to raze the area, to have it done before dawn, and in Vikund's name."

She gave them both stern looks because she knew well how they both felt. "He did not give the order."

As anticipated, Goran glowered at the mention of the name, not believing for a second that Vikund was innocent.

Niccolo was already heading towards the barcart, his feet having only just touched the carpet. He poured himself a drink, and produced two cigars, offering one to Goran as he replied to Petra's request. "Si, certo. Has Vincenzo already moved the body to the infirmary? or does it remain where it fell?"

"Ramon guards it still where he fell," said Petra as she propped her feet on the antique coffee table in the siting area. "Unless he had it moved while most everyone was preoccupied with your light show."

Goran accepted the cigar from Niccolo and proceeded to clip it, still frowning.

As she continued, Niccolo raised an eyebrow at the mention of Vikund. "And your confidence in the duplicitous fellow's lack of duplicity stems from where?" He paused to clip his cigar properly, "One needs to consider who benefits most from the burning of the dockside businesses. Who will make money, Si? I would venture that several Guilds would make that list, along with less savory suspects."

"Most of whom have been sighted already," Goran added.

She scowled at Niccolo. "You have no heard him speak on the suffering of the common man. I have. He would not do this. Who benefits the most is going to be who gets in there and buys the property up first. Vikund feels there be as many as four parties with a strong interest in the docks - including us. Perhaps I am reading too much into it, but I find it interesting that this did not occur until we were well away and was supposed to be complete by the time we docked."

Goran looked up with interest as he lit his cigar, seeing the implications of what she said.

[Moved offlist]