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majestyrising · 2 years

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Formation of the Syndicate

Notes: Exactly what it sounds like! The five founding members of the Syndicate discuss their plans. No warnings required. Pings: @vicegrips-fr @mask-fr @kattafr @slighteyewing

From left to right: Koschei, Mischa, Nightshade, Nakahi, Mokomoko.

The inn is as it always is. The hodgepodge music of activity fills the air, overlapping chatter from patrons and off-key drunken singing laying a soft blanket over the entire inn. It leaves the party gathered around their usual corner table safe in their own private bubble.

Even so there’s a tension which runs through them. The merry quartet sits silently around mugs of ale they’re clutching too tightly. No one speaks, where there would usually be an overflow of conversation, all of them laughing and sharing stories. Eventually, one of the five claps his hands together and startles all but one other.

“A thought, Koschei?” Nightshade asks, not reacting to the clap but blinking slowly as a thin finger scratches the wooden grain on his mug. He looks at his protégé sidelong from the opposite side of the table, unblinking red eyes which appear as if infused with honey.

“A many,” Koschei says agreeably, lifting his chin up and exhaling as a catlike smile works its way across his features. He reaches to his left and lays an arm over his brother Mischa’s shoulders.

Mischa glances at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Go on, please,” Nightshade urges, the cadence of his voice hypnotic enough that it puts the rest of them more at ease, invites them to share their secrets, “Speak.”

“We need a base,” Koschei states, watching across the room as the other patrons dance and shout. No one is listening to them.

“That much is obvious,” Mischa mutters under his breath before he looks up at Koschei, “But with what you two are suggesting we need more than a house in the city. It would have to be easily defendable-”

“A castle with walls so high they’d never fall?” Nakahi interrupts from Koschei’s right with a scoff, “It doesn’t matter where we are. Nowhere’s impregnable.”

“Don’t let history blind you my friend,” Nightshade says with a gentle warmth as he deftly avoids the difficult subject, “As true as your words are, Mischa’s are in turn.”

“It’s all a moot point when we can’t afford the rent for a castle,” Mokomoko points out, weakly kicking Nakahi’s shin from her other side, “We barely have enough coin to keep our rooms.”

“Does that not get on your nerves, Moko?” Koschei prods, his eyes sharp as he stares across the table at him, “To know if one of our current prospects dries up, we could be staring at a winter on the streets?”

“It’s winter?” Mokomoko responds with an unfazed grin, “I can’t tell the difference between summer and winter here, honestly.”

“Don’t avoid my point,” Koschei sighs, though rolling his eyes good-naturedly as he lifts the mug to his lips and sips, making a face as he does, “Ah, I’d much rather be drinking vodka.”

“Too risky to drink the rubbing alcohol they sell here,” Nakahi bemoans, drinking from her own mug, “At least with ale we’re not going to go blind.”

There’s a few moments of thoughtful silence before Mischa shifts in his seat.

“I know you want us to be safe, Kos,” Mischa says, frustration evaporating as he looks over at his brother with a worried frown, “But what you’re suggesting isn’t possible.”

“It is,” Koschei insists, putting his mug down as his brows furrow, “It has to be.”

“Indeed,” Nightshade says, “If this proposal of ours is to succeed, then we must have somewhere to call our own.”

Nakahi hums, drumming her fingers on the table as she glares a hole in the middle of it. Her thoughts are like a physical thing swirling around them, maybe because of her strong heritage. The jade green eyes hidden by the black shrouded sclera of undeath stare and stare.

Finally, she tsks aloud and bites her lip, looking over at Koschei with an equal amount of thoughtfulness and hesitation on her face.

“You’re not done with being a nomad, dear?” Koschei asks, correctly reading her trepidation, “I understand your fears.”

She remains silent for a few more moments before speaking.

“If we tie ourselves to one place,” Nakahi explains, picking her words slowly and carefully, “Then if someone with greater strength than us comes, we’ll have no options.”

Nightshade folds his arms over his chest, sitting straight in his chair as he looks around the table.

“Well then,” he says, with the energy of a wise elder teaching fledgling students, “How do we make our way around that?”

“Multiple bases,” Mischa answers, with a shrug, “Even more astronomically impossible.”

Koschei groans aloud, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stamps his foot in annoyance.

“You’re a real downer tonight, eh Mish?” Mokomoko says, giving Mischa a lopsided smile, “Drink your ale already, you’re depressing me.”

“Ah, ye of little faith!” Koschei complains, raising his arms in exasperation, “Must you doubt me so, brother mine?”

“If no one else does, then yes,” Mischa counters, “Someone must curtail your lofty dreams, Kos.”

“Why curtail me when we stand to gain so much?” Koschei counters back, a twitch in his jaw, “I am by no means saying this will be easy, but it will be worth it! We will-”

“Oh, here we go,” Mokomoko whispers, nudging Mischa again- who this time hides his smile under his arm.

“-We will run an empire with no borders, no nation, no gods,” Koschei says, his tone hushed and reverent, his eyes open as if transfixed by his own dreams and words, “We’ll formulate a private army and place informants across all of Sorienth. We will pull strings to keep ourselves safe, relevant, and powerful.”

“All that just so we can be at peace,” Nightshade says, with a smile. Koschei grins back at him, encouraged by his smile.

“And we can’t do any of that without somewhere to live,” Mischa says, waving a hand dismissively, “I get it.”

“The way to get around it,” Nakahi says thoughtfully, her shoulders relaxing, “Is to have forces so powerful that no one could topple us.”

The calm thoughtfulness evaporates instantly as she punches her fist into an open hand with a shark-like smile. When she meets Koschei’s eyes he’s all but glowing with shared enthusiasm.

“All that,” Mokomoko echoes quietly, almost resigned to it.

Neither Koschei nor Nakahi hear him, both of them too busy encouraging one another’s dreams.

“That part is easy,” Koschei says, excitedly, “You are already incredibly powerful, my dear. All you would have to do is to push past those limits- who could stop us if we have you on our side? Who could stand toe to toe with someone whose combat sense is as refined as yours?”

“No one,” Nakahi growls loud and deep, getting to her feet and forcing Mokomoko to grab her drink so she doesn’t knock it over.

“Hey, easy!” Mokomoko protests, wincing, “No need to start a fight right now- at least wait until someone says something gross so it’s justified!”

“That’s not going to take long,” Mischa snorts, nodding to a man who is gesturing at them with pointed look, “The guy at the bar earlier gave us the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen.”

Nakahi sits down, shooting Moko an apologetic look and taking her mug back to take a hearty drink of it.

“Anyway,” Mischa says, “All that’s great but we haven’t resolved anything.”

Nightshade chuckles at that.

“Have we not?” he asks, putting both palms on the table for a moment, “We are in agreement, for once, that we need a home to call our own.”

“Mm, true,” Moko muses, “I… I mean, I do worry that if we’re not able to escape then we’ll be pinned in again- and I don’t want that to happen.”

He jumps a little when he feels Nakahi’s hand on his, for her hands are cold. They weren’t, not before she was resurrected by Nightshade. But that’s just the problem isn’t it? They both know how things can crumble if your back is against the wall.

“But I,” he continues, clearing his throat, “I know that those are just wounds from before.”

But then there’s the opposite. You can’t just run forever.

“Perfectly reasonable wounds,” Koschei assures, “Far be it for me to, ah, steamroll over your worries. Unless they’re Mischa’s worries.”

“Ha ha,” Mischa says, deadpan.

The four pause to drink, letting the slow burn of alcohol soothe their worries.

As the others drink, Nightshade reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a letter. He places it on the table with great care, smoothing a palm over it.

“Oh?” Nakahi notes, tilting her head to the side, “A love letter for our silver fox?”

At that Nightshade’s eyes go wide and he laughs slightly, shaking his head.

“Hardly,” he says, “No, this is something far more valuable to all of us. I did some proverbial shaking of the trees, if you understand my meaning.”

“You… asked around for information on somewhere to set up base?” Mokomoko ventures, rubbing his chin with one hand.

“Correct,” Nightshade confirms, “I can verify that this is not nonsense, either. There are historical records- I say historical, I do not mean pre-history or some such nonsense.”

Koschei reaches for the letter but lets his hand hover over it motionless before Nightshade nods. At the confirmation he takes it and opens it, reading over the contents before handing it over to Nakahi.

“Reclaimer’s Glacier?” Nakahi asks, looking over at Koschei to find his expression not the one of elation she was expecting but one of deep and troubled thought.

“A worry, Koschei?” Nightshade asks lightly.

“Ah, no,” Koschei dismisses, swallowing, “Not at all. Do elaborate, friend.”

“According to my sources,” Nightshade explains, “There was once a clan of indeterminate origin and business that once held claim to a large palace among the field of the Reclaimer’s Glacier. Purportedly, it was carved out of one of these glaciers.”

“Sounds cold,” Mokomoko comments, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not to the intensity you may expect,” Nightshade continues, “It is magically reinforced.”

“Mm, who's to say it won’t be full of traps?” Nakahi asks, handing the letter to Mokomoko, “If we don’t know who used to live there then we can’t rule out that maybe they didn’t want anyone following them.”

“Oh, but if it’s full of traps then it’s also full of treasure, right?” Mokomoko points out, “That might be fun.”

“Anyway,” Nightshade says, his serious tone silencing Nakahi and Mokomoko, “It is a solid lead- if I say so myself.”

“It’s pretty far away from civilization,” Mischa points out as the letter is handed to him by Mokomoko, “Which is good and bad, obviously.”

“If we have the right caravans set up then the trek to the nearest city is what, a couple of hours? It’s not too bad,” Nakahi muses, looking up at the ceiling as she maps it in her head.

“Really?” Mischa says, blinking, “Shouldn’t it be more like five hours?”

Nakahi reaches into her backpack where it sits next to her stool and proceeds to pull out a map to show Mischa the route they would take.

“Oh,” he says, lamely.

“You really can’t read a map to save your life, can you?” she teases, to which he sniffs indignantly- though he also smiles sidelong at her.

It is Koschei who has been uncharacteristically quiet. He stares at the ripples of ale in his mug, his mind transforming the waves into wind, into a blizzard, into being trapped.

“Koschei,” Nightshade says, as Koschei is startled out of his thoughts by his name being called, “Does this sound agreeable to you?”

Koschei looks down at the letter again where it now sits in the middle of the table and closes his eyes. He lets the blizzard slip away from his mind.

“How many supplies do you think we have?” he asks, tone unreadable.

“Uh,” Mischa offers slowly, “Enough for a week, probably.”

“Then we should go at daybreak,” Koschei declares, opening his eyes with a grin, “No time to waste.”

Nightshade smiles at that, nodding his head in agreement.

“No more stale ale then,” Mischa says, a little brighter and holding his mug out, “I’ll drink to that!”

“Oh, so now you like my idea?” Koschei counters, holding his mug to the middle of the table to clink against Mischa’s.

“It was Nightshade’s idea,” Nakahi points out, raising her mug too.

“I’m happy either way,” Mokomoko laughs, raising his mug in turn.

“To new horizons, then,” Nightshade finishes, lifting his mug with a delicate hand as the five of them clink the heavy wood together in the middle of the table, sealing the deal with a drink.

#flight rising #flight rising lore #fr lore #my lore #clan lore #thanatos syndicate #koschei urusov #mischa urusov #nightshade #nakahi awhatopana #mokomoko awhatopana #WHEW this starter paragraph was in my drafts for months

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