The Forgotten Zodiac

((Posted by Sage.))

The young lord walked the streets in the dimming light, scornfully observing the drunkards filling the streets. The town had just finished its harvest celebration, which had meant copious amounts of free alcohol for everyone there. Restraint was hardly one of their virtues. Of course, as the heir to the leadership of the city, he was expected to walk about and make public appearances to these fools. The teen knew better than to let these emotions show on his face. His mouth and nose were carefully emotionless, though his blue eyes accurately reflected the coldness he felt. He step carefully around crates and over piles of materials that were less than delightful, carefully lifting leather boots and brown pants to avoid them. The red-head turned toward a dark alley, mentally informing himself that it was a stupid thing he was doing. Rich nobles shouldn't be in this part of town ever, let alone at night. He could at least defend himself; he had some magical ability and was good with a sword. In a way, he was actually somewhat in the mood for a fight, what with all the fake smiling he'd been doing all day. His guard was probably somewhere around here; but Alexander had slipped him, he thought, when he'd exited the party.

((Which leaves your character's charge walking down a dark alley. He can show up and inform Alexander what a terrible idea it is.))

((Heh.

Also, you said in the cBox 'male, non magical human'. 2 out of 3. Not too bad, but I imagined that we'd start around the time that the Vatican is just drawing back its mages from the nobles. Either that, or this guy is just a good samaritan or something.))

Off to the side, a couple drunkards were having a loud conversation about something or other. It didn't really bother Alexander until he attempted to pass them.

"And what are you doin' out here? Little boys should be at home in bed by now," One of them stood, blocking his path. The other two stood as well, cutting off the way back.

"Now hold on a sec, Bloke, this is Alexander..." One of them frowned, obviously less drunk than the other two.

"Who cares?! We can do to him physically what he's been doing financially to us for years now," The third slurred.

"Alexander Finnigan the Third. A young nobleman, born with a silver spoon. Head of the Finnigan household since the dissapearance of Alexander Finnigan the second...carrying on his legacy for two years now! What brings you here today, eh? Not quite done filling your wallet with our money?!" He swung a sloppy punch at the boy, but it was stopped short by the third, non-drunk man's hand. Bloke sniffed pointedly. "Hey, Drew, what's the big idea?"

"I-I didn't do that!" Drew yelped, apparently struggling to move.

"Relax." Said a dark voice from above. Silohuetted by the fireworks behind him, the man's face was impossible to see, but the shining white mark on his black half-cape was very much obvious. He was a member of the Vatican; an Elect, to be precise. Not the highest status, but certainly high enough to make even drunkards think twice about confronting him. In fact, most of the people steered clear, avoiding the fight-about-to-happen as though it were the plague. Others stood idly by to watch.

Drew stared up at him, then realized there were lines attached to his wrists and ankles. Forced movement brought on through electrical pulses sent down a thin wire, which was also probably attached through magical forces. "Wha--I-I wasn't gonna hurt the kid, I swear!" Drew yelled.

"I know." The man on the roof replied. One hand in his pocket, the other pulling the strings, which were tied and twisted around his entire hand; a tangled mess, but a purposeful mess. "So now, you'll aid me in protecting him. In return, I'll let you run home without a fine. Deal?"

"Y-yeah, sure!"

"Good. Now like I said...relax." He flicked his hand, and Drew's left arm swung out and caught Bloke in the face with a solid punch that would probably leave a black eye. A right jab, block a wild swing, left kick. Bloke was down in seconds with several cracked ribs, a bloody lip and a bad bruise on his hip.

Alexander had watched this whole display without much movement or visible emotion, except when he stepped out of Bloke's first attempted blow. He stepped idly backward, behind the third drunk that Morgan hadn't taken care of, and kicked him once in the back of each knee. When the man collapsed to the ground, he lifted his other foot and kicked him neatly in the side. The man crumpled face first to the ground, leaving Drew the only man still standing. The noble knelt and lifted the man, a flicker of disgust crossing his face. However, he pushed the man up into a sitting position and leaned him against the wall of the alley. The lord stepped away from the drunkard with that accomplished and glanced up at his guard on the rooftop.
"I wondered when you'd catch up to me. Enjoying yourself?" The noble stepped to the front of the alley, closest to the main street, and waited for the Elect to release Drew. Once the man had, Alexander tossed Drew a silver coin a gestured at the two men on the ground. "Do make sure they get home okay. Try not to assault anyone else on your way." With that, the teen exited the alley and started down the main street, leaving any thanks for Morgan until a later, less public, time.

Drew practically collapsed, feeling as though he had just run several long miles. Morgan's ability had a tendency to wear down even the most endurant. The Elect dropped from the roof, a calm smile on his face. "You never lost me, my leige." His thin copper wires returned to the tangled mess on his hand with a simple flick of his wrist, and he hurried off after Alexander. "I may be new to this job, but I'm certainly not new to the escort business. It is not my duty to restrict your actions, but to protect you in spite of whatever foolishness you may see fit to follow. And," He grinned. "Who doesn't like a little spar now and then? Furthermore, if I don't practice my puppeteering once in awhile, I might get rusty."

Alexander sighed slightly, somewhat disappointed that he hadn't actually lost Morgan. "I'll have to try harder next time." He kept walking along the road and glanced over at the whatever-it-was in his guard's hand. "Do you carry that around all the time? Isn't it hard to get on?" Looking at the mess, which did not appear organized, though he knew it was,it did not look like something he would be able to access on a moment's notice. Obviously, there were other techniques in his repature; but it was still a subject of interest.

"Get on? Implying I take it off." Morgan laughed, in quite the cheery mood this evening. "It's quite simple, really. I send energy down each of the five lines. They always go back in the same pattern, so untangling them is easy. The energy I push down each line sends them out to attach. Attachment can be anything from a simple touch to a knot around the wrist or ankle, depending on the amount my puppets struggle. After that, I convert my energy into electric pulses which intercept the ones sent from the brains. The muscles move on reflex." His left hand still in his pocket, he held up his right, which had all the wires on it.

"Allow me to demonstrate!" He flicked his fingers, and the wires snapped out. They all attached around an outdoors table that he and Alexander were passing, where five men were drinking their mead and laughing. In unison, they all grabbed their mugs and dumped the drinks on their own heads. They sort of blinked at each other, flustered for a moment, but they soon were back to laughing among themselves. Morgan called his lines back, smiling away. "It's all simple stuff. I've just perfected it to an art. I know more complex magics, certainly, but I've never quite been able to find one better than this."

Alexander laughed as he watched the men pour their mugs on their head. The walk past quickly, and they were soon back at the palace. Considering the hour, the two separated and headed to bed for the night.
The next morning, Alexander rose early, dressed, and headed to the dining hall. There was significant city clean-up to be directed in the city, as well as every other function of noble work.

Morgan was waiting in the dining hall. He looked a bit less than pleased. "Good morning, my leige. You have a rather testing schedule ahead of you, it seems. But...a letter arrived from the Vatican. Most...annoying. Look," He snorted, dropping the pompous act, taking on a scowl. "They want me back. Sure, I just started not two days ago, but those big-wigs are pulling strings. Apparently, something within the government doesn't quite agree with the Vatican's wishes, so they're withdrawing Elects and Blessed from the Nobles they were assigned to protect. I have no intentions of returning to that place without a proper hearing." He sighed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Perhaps the master could take a trip with you to Bismark," Moria, the handmaid who waited upon the Nobleman and his guard, suggested lightly. "You could arrange your hearing there..."

"Bah. As if they'd listen," Morgan shook his head. "I just can't get away from that place...and I can't exactly just up and leave, either. They'd tag me and start fining for every inch of thread I move with magic! How irritating that would be..."

Alexander frowned, displeased at the addition to his schedule as well as the inconvenience of having his guard removed two days after his arrival. "Yes, I've heard. The King has refused to enforce the Pope's wishes in relation to the complete removal of religious freedom, and he borders on being excommunicated. It's only a matter of time before he either gives in or recalls every good Catholic from the country." He sighed and shfited a pile of papers spread on the table in front of him. After shuffling through them, he nodded and held a letter up to Morgan. "They sent me a notice. How nice of them. All the same, now isn't really a good time for you to leave." The lord yawned and stretched his neck slightly, then nodded decidedly as he came to a decision. "They allow you to leave their service once you've paid off what they consider you to owe them, correct? Why don't we travel to Bismark, and I'll offer to pay off the rest of whatever they think is necessary if they'll leave you in my service? This is a minor enough case, and it seems to be the option that leaves everyone happy."

Morgan stared at Alexander for a long moment, then shrugged, shifting his left hand in his pocket. "I may be a part of the Vatican, but I don't actually care about what they were doing. I just wanted to learn more magic. I've gotten what I need from them, so why not?" He shook his head. "It still won't help, though. Instead of me getting the tax calls, you'll be the one fined for my magic usage. We can't have that, can we? I don't really feel like putting that sort of strain on your wallet, however fat it may be. I'm not inclined to put myself under the debt of a Noble. No offense, of course. It's just unbecoming for a man of my stature. If there's one thing I've noticed, though, there are quite a few noblemen in this city. And by tomorrow, no Catholics. Kinda odd." He leaned back in his chair, dropping his crossed feet on the table. "I wonder if we could play the Vatican's game for them here...oh yeah! Those guys we roughed up last night? Total Protestant instigators. Mob leaders. I knew that name was familiar...Drew. I'm surprised none of them tried to pull their fancy toys out. Woulda been fun..."

"Master," Moria didn't even try to conceal her disapproving frown. "Do I have permission to speak freely?"

"I'm not stopping you. You can talk all day long, doll."

"Thank you, master. You are, without a doubt, the most repulsive, uncouth, uncultured, unmannered and unwashed Catholic I have ever seen. You are arrogant and rude, and I'm not surprised you had trouble finding a nobleman to take you in before this."

"You forgot overconfident." Morgan tutted.

Alexander raised a hand, watching Moira scold Morgan with amusement. "He is washed, you know. I refuse to spend long periods of time around people that smell, as unwashed people do. I'll give you repulsive, uncouth, uncultured, unmannered and Catholic." He paused and frowned as he thought through Morgan's suggestion. "I can offer to jail any mob leaders they care to name, if you think that would work." With his breakfast finish, the noble stood and gathered all the papers he had spread on the table. "Morgan, shall we finish this conversation elsewhere? I still have work to get done. Moira, please tell the cook it was delicious as always."  He turned and strode out of the room, expecting his guard to follow. It was his job description, after all.

Morgan didn't follow right away. First, he stood and drew himself up to his full height before Moria. "I may be uncultured, repulsive, unmannered, rude, all those things. But if there's one thing I'm not, it's stupid. The job you hold is a very dangerous one."

"How so?" Moria snorted, trying her hardest not to seem frightened, but there was that glimmer in her eye that Morgan knew well.

"You're closer to Alexander than even I am. You have his schedules, his daily routine. You make his meetings, arrange trips to events, and manage Alexander's life so that he doesn't have to. Do you understand yet?" Moria blinked at him, then shook her head.

Morgan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If anyone has the means to become a traitor, it's you. You hold the most threatening thing that any enemies could gain. Information that could and will get both me and Alexander killed. The Nobles have a lot of enemies, Moria. And if I even begin to suspect that you're one of them...well. Let's just say that I keep my left hand in my pocket for a very good reason. Pray you won't ever have to see it, Moria. Because if and when that day comes, it will be a very painful passing for you."

Moria watched him leave, sweeping off after their young master.

"And where should we discuss it? I dislike your office. The library is much nicer." Morgan caught up to Alexander easily. "No fireplace."

"Library it is." Alexander deliberately chose to leave the question of what had held Morgan up alone, instead moving straight onto the present issue. He stayed silent in the hallway until they reached the library and led the way to a table in the center of the library. He again spread the papers out and began on his writing, mostly formalized refusals to balls and such like. The nobleman looked up at Morgan from across the table and restarted the conversation. "What was your plan, exactly? It'll have to be something good to convince them to make an exception."

"Well," Morgan crossed his ankles upon sitting down, dropping his feet on the table again. Thankfully, it was a longer table, and so his boots never touched Alexander's papers. "The idea I had could possibly be seen as...traitorous. For you to keep me, under the circumstances...well, the only thing I can think of that would convince the Vatican to let me stay, would be me staying under the premise of acting as a spy. As I said before...there are a lot of Nobles moving to and from here, and from my last walk, I'd say there aren't any Vatican members. That, and the protestants...this place is a mess and a half. The only reason the Vatican hasn't build an establishment of their own here was due to funding cuts. So...if I were to send them reports now and then about the current happenings..."

Alexander stopped writing briefly when Morgan put his feet on the table and stopped once more when he outlined the rest of his plan. He looked up at Morgan and stared at him with interest. "I don't think I have a problem with that. Assuming you aren't actually spying on me, of course." He nodded decidedly as he thought through Morgan's plan. "It's a good plan. You would be willing to only send them the information I give you, correct?" His tone pointed out how little argument he was willing to go for here. He had no particular loyalty to any of the nobles in his city; indeed, they frequently seemed to be more trouble than they were worth. The same would be true of a guard who was constantly spying on him, so Morgan's job depended on his acceptance of those terms.

"I don't plan on giving the Vatican anything important," Morgan chortled. "You can look through every letter I send and make me write new ones if you want something omitted. I'm not adverse to being a double agent." He shrugged. "Yeah...that's the only way the Vatican will do it, though." He eyed Alexander curiously. "I'm only suggesting this because you offered to pay off my debts first. Why would you do all this just to keep me around? I'm not much more than a wayward Elect who likes looking for fights..." It was an innocent enough question, but Morgan was curious. 

Alexander nodded, perfectly accepting with Morgan's plan. It did make perfect sense, especially if it enabled him to give the Vatican false information. "Honestly, Morgan? Times are about to change, significantly. When they settle down, I intend to come out on top. In order to do that, I'll need protection; and I'll need someone who's willing to fight dirty. Who better than a 'wayward Elect who likes looking for fights'?" He signed a letter with a flourish and tossed it across the table toward Morgan. "This is my letter of acceptance of your resignation. You write them with your proposition. The story you can say you've told me is that you resigned from their service to remain in mine. I can pretend to accept this easily, and no one will be any the wiser." His motivations were explained easily, and those truly were what they were. From there, he wanted to focus on the rest of this plan. If it was going to work, their stories had to be consistent.

"Heh," Morgan picked up the letter, tucking it in his shirt pocket. "Well then. I suppose we ought to make a trip to Dublin, then. If I'm not mistaken, you have an annual meeting to attend there in a couple days' time, anyway. Shall I inform your housemaid? I don't like her, by the way. You should hire someone a little more trustworthy. Maybe a distant relative. In times like these, the only people you can truly trust is family...kinda puts me in a bad spot, though." He laughed his confident, quiet laughter, then smirked at Alexander. "I like you, though. You're smart. Much smarter than any other kid your age. Probably smarter than me, but hey...I'm just a spellbound mercenary," He patted the pocket the letter sat in. That would essentially become his official title after 'resigning' from the Vatican.

Spellbound spoke for itself; magic, yes, but still tied up under the rules, regulations, and taxes of the Vatican. Even magic-using doctors had to pay monthly fees for the magic they used, if they weren't working directly for the Vatican. It was kind of sad, really, but...that was just the way things worked.

"I don't have any distant relatives. In times not like this, the only thing they are good for is leaching money out of you and demanding you marry one of your cousins. The ones that aren't dead, I foisted off onto a different distant relative of theirs." He sighed, then continued as a thought came to him. "I don't have time to find someone suitably trustworthy to fill the position. You do it. If you find someone better, I'll hire them and replace her. Until then, I'll leave her in her position." Since they were still in Alexander's home inside his city, the likelihood that he would need Morgan's defensive services were low; so it made sense for Morgan to work on that job now.

Morgan slowly nodded. "Alright then. I'll be back later, with a more suitable housemaid." He tossed the resignation letter back to Alexander. "You hold onto that for now. And don't ask any questions if I come back with bruises. I may be running into Drew and his cronies by...accident." He chortled, adjusting his half cape and swept out the door. He left the premesis after a quick perimeter check; sure, Alexander may have felt safe enough in his own home, but Morgan wasn't one to accept such feelings of safety.