Altriona: Were we mistaken?
Jun. 10th, 2010 01:51 pmEveryone who hears our tale of vengeance is baffled by it.
I would expect them to be bemused, for our vendetta is private, based in a supposition of crimes as yet unproved. But I would not expect them to remain baffled when we reveal the name of the beastman who travels with us.
The reason for their confusion? They say they have seen Mallion alive and well in Marienberg.
At first we believed this to be a simple hoax. We were certain of the identity of our own Mallion, despite his bestial appearance. But time went on, and it became clearer and clearer that people who should have known better had been taken in by the hoax.
We committed a horrible act of piracy and murder in the name of this vengeance. We treated with skaven to purchase warpstone with slaves - an act which will make us very rich - though the amount of warpstone we will send into the Empire to an unknown buyer could bring down the Emperor and permanently shift the balance of chaos in our homeland. We set a city to civil war. We leave mayhem in our wake wherever we sail.
And now, having committed ourselves to this course of action, having committed crimes to heinous to admit forgiveness, a letter comes from Marienberg - written in Mallion's hand and borne by Valadar's most trusted man.
The seal, of course, is not Malliion's. It is Father's. I wear Mallion's signet on a chain around my neck even now, knowing that I have no right to use it. But the wording, the writing, the sentiment - had I not left my brother in Sartosa to come to the meeting where I received the letter, I would have had no doubt but that my brother had written it.
Gallos, for it was he who was sent to talk to Lorandara and me, asked us to return with him to Marienberg. He had letters of passage allowing us to traverse the Tilean city-states where we are wanted as criminals. He would not compel us, but he asked. Everyone who knew of the request urged us to go. I refused. I informed Gallos that I would write a letter, the answer to which would prove if the person who had written to me was, in fact, my brother Mallion. The letter contained two lies. One was that I had tested the bestial Mallion using the same test I was about to give the pretender, and that he had passed. I had not yet tested him when I wrote that. The other related to the piece of poetry I used as my test. If he is my brother, he will recognize that lie and challenge me on it.
Lorandara did not come to the meeting with me. She waited behind for Mallion, and told him of my destination when he came out of the meeting which Lord Rackam had arranged to occupy his attention. I know not what transpired when Mallion and Lorandara returned to talk to Lord Rackam after she informed him of my departure, but whatever it was, he was tense and upset when he arrived at the meeting.
I told Mallion of the letter, and gave him a different test: a piece of poetry he had written many years ago, the theme of which was peculiarly appropriate to our situation. I hated my doubt and needed to lay it to rest. I needed my poet brother to be himself, to pick up the rhythm and rhyme and meter as of old, to duel with words as once he never would with a weapon.
He could not do it.
I think I hid my terror from him well. It struck me soul-deep. It helped that I went with the men in the rowboat while he and Lorandara took off flying for the ship. I had time to take hold of my emotions and conquer them, to convince myself that the loss of one poem was hardly proof of anything. I determined to set him another test, to give him another chance to show that he was my Mallion.
And yet my heart quaked. Was he ever my brother? Had he been my brother, but changed? How much could he be my brother if the poetry, that which so defined him, was lost to him?
He passed the second test, quoting verses that I helped him write, verses known to none but us two. We have decided to work with Mallion to keep his poetry alive in his soul.
So our Mallion is truly Mallion. What will we do if the pretender passes the test - if he knows that which only Mallion knows? How will we live with ourselves should our vengeance prove to be a hollow thing founded on a hellish misunderstanding? How so if Valadar is innocent of the patricide with which we have sullied his name?
I would expect them to be bemused, for our vendetta is private, based in a supposition of crimes as yet unproved. But I would not expect them to remain baffled when we reveal the name of the beastman who travels with us.
The reason for their confusion? They say they have seen Mallion alive and well in Marienberg.
At first we believed this to be a simple hoax. We were certain of the identity of our own Mallion, despite his bestial appearance. But time went on, and it became clearer and clearer that people who should have known better had been taken in by the hoax.
We committed a horrible act of piracy and murder in the name of this vengeance. We treated with skaven to purchase warpstone with slaves - an act which will make us very rich - though the amount of warpstone we will send into the Empire to an unknown buyer could bring down the Emperor and permanently shift the balance of chaos in our homeland. We set a city to civil war. We leave mayhem in our wake wherever we sail.
And now, having committed ourselves to this course of action, having committed crimes to heinous to admit forgiveness, a letter comes from Marienberg - written in Mallion's hand and borne by Valadar's most trusted man.
The seal, of course, is not Malliion's. It is Father's. I wear Mallion's signet on a chain around my neck even now, knowing that I have no right to use it. But the wording, the writing, the sentiment - had I not left my brother in Sartosa to come to the meeting where I received the letter, I would have had no doubt but that my brother had written it.
Gallos, for it was he who was sent to talk to Lorandara and me, asked us to return with him to Marienberg. He had letters of passage allowing us to traverse the Tilean city-states where we are wanted as criminals. He would not compel us, but he asked. Everyone who knew of the request urged us to go. I refused. I informed Gallos that I would write a letter, the answer to which would prove if the person who had written to me was, in fact, my brother Mallion. The letter contained two lies. One was that I had tested the bestial Mallion using the same test I was about to give the pretender, and that he had passed. I had not yet tested him when I wrote that. The other related to the piece of poetry I used as my test. If he is my brother, he will recognize that lie and challenge me on it.
Lorandara did not come to the meeting with me. She waited behind for Mallion, and told him of my destination when he came out of the meeting which Lord Rackam had arranged to occupy his attention. I know not what transpired when Mallion and Lorandara returned to talk to Lord Rackam after she informed him of my departure, but whatever it was, he was tense and upset when he arrived at the meeting.
I told Mallion of the letter, and gave him a different test: a piece of poetry he had written many years ago, the theme of which was peculiarly appropriate to our situation. I hated my doubt and needed to lay it to rest. I needed my poet brother to be himself, to pick up the rhythm and rhyme and meter as of old, to duel with words as once he never would with a weapon.
He could not do it.
I think I hid my terror from him well. It struck me soul-deep. It helped that I went with the men in the rowboat while he and Lorandara took off flying for the ship. I had time to take hold of my emotions and conquer them, to convince myself that the loss of one poem was hardly proof of anything. I determined to set him another test, to give him another chance to show that he was my Mallion.
And yet my heart quaked. Was he ever my brother? Had he been my brother, but changed? How much could he be my brother if the poetry, that which so defined him, was lost to him?
He passed the second test, quoting verses that I helped him write, verses known to none but us two. We have decided to work with Mallion to keep his poetry alive in his soul.
So our Mallion is truly Mallion. What will we do if the pretender passes the test - if he knows that which only Mallion knows? How will we live with ourselves should our vengeance prove to be a hollow thing founded on a hellish misunderstanding? How so if Valadar is innocent of the patricide with which we have sullied his name?