She listened intently, his answers would be the key to everything. They would tell her if she could use him, if he possessed the correct mind and character to enter her world – even if it was just a small entrance for now until she possessed a better grip of his personality and abilities. She was willing to let members of the Scars into her machinations and knowledge, she had promised Bitzer she would do so and wouldn’t break that promise. Still she was not prepared to divulge everything that she knew and had earned with the trials of years, failures aplenty and quite a lot of blood lost along the way. Still, she watched his face and considered his words with the faint trace of a smile beginning to form upon her lips. She controlled it so that it was enough to encourage but gave little else for Gad to interpret upon the surface. She relaxed her shoulders and allowed her muscles to loosen as if in the most friendly of company – after a fashion she was but it helped to send out the signals to others.
Interesting, his mind jumps around quickly and surely and yet simply at the same time. He thinks that I speak of the Daggerhand, of complex schemes and politics when I meant something for more safer. Does that mean he wants to attack them quickly, that he wants their blood? No…he seems almost fearful at the idea…then why join the Scars? she wondered to herself as she considered her response, the tips of her fingers tapping each other intermittently.
“No…I do not mean them Gad. Have no fear on that account. I find myself impressed by your scheming though even if I didn’t ask for it,” she responded softly, waving for more ale and rum to be brought to them, “you have the general shape of an idea that is in the future. A ghost, if you will, of our purposes. But it is for another time” she finished as her cup was replaced, as was Gad’s, and she sipped from it sparingly.
“No, I speak of simpler things, of the ideas of rumour. You have been pulled into them, excellent. The best way to know how to use them is to be fooled by them, to analyse them and then eventually understand them,” she continued, “I speak instead of masking our own actions under a blanket of misinformation. A bit more advanced than mere rumour but it starts in the same source” she sighed.
How does one explain the way they think to someone who isn’t in their head? How can you teach someone things which you don’t really think about anymore but travel upon instinct…like breathing? she frowned slightly within her thought.
“Let’s take the idea that, perhaps, I was available for sale. A common enough thing to find in the streets. Now if I were to whisper that to the revellers here I would need to choose the right ones,” she swept her right hand across the room, “they can’t be too drunk of it becomes distorted or forgotten. We start with basics. You chose well with the wench, she would spread things quickly but perhaps not accurately. So we tell Merv too, his factual knowledge is folded into the wench’s enthusiasm as surely anyone interested would ask him also, he is the owner and sells the drink. Now we choose a third, a random semi-merry mercenary perhaps, and he takes the story out into the world”
“The trail is laid and people would come to find out the truth, this would spread and thus the rumour is told. Over time it becomes so distorted as to be useless almost but for a small window there is enough rumour and fact that it can be used”
“Now, let us say we do this in every tavern in Sunberth, each time from a different perspective. We give different facts. The Simpering Sea Cow that they can meet me at the Knight’s Armoury. The Fish Bowl we let it be known that Web is open for hire but what jobs she is best able to do. Each story released into the city, melding and blending and more importantly…becoming” she clenched her fist then triumphantly.
“So we see that it is not enough to tell others what we want them to know, we have to create a composite of various threads and try to get them to weave together. The most convincing story is one that seems to come from the agreement of many people”
“Now take our group…people think we are finished I have noticed. Can you weave me a way to make sure that they continue believing that? That we can add to, piece by piece, until we can convince them that graves we make ourselves are our own? Think Gad. Your mind is sound. Tell me how we can use the method I just described to do it”
“Then…perhaps…we will do it together” she smiled then, settling back into her chair and watching him.
She had promised him danger and she would deliver it if he chose, though the time of said danger was never referenced. They would start small, she would tease him and teach him into being able to play larger games perhaps. She needed someone to act as a protégé as an experiment after all – she had promised to teach Bitzer and she was unfathomable. A decent grounding would be needed and with gad she could gain that in exchange for her own knowledge.
Interesting, his mind jumps around quickly and surely and yet simply at the same time. He thinks that I speak of the Daggerhand, of complex schemes and politics when I meant something for more safer. Does that mean he wants to attack them quickly, that he wants their blood? No…he seems almost fearful at the idea…then why join the Scars? she wondered to herself as she considered her response, the tips of her fingers tapping each other intermittently.
“No…I do not mean them Gad. Have no fear on that account. I find myself impressed by your scheming though even if I didn’t ask for it,” she responded softly, waving for more ale and rum to be brought to them, “you have the general shape of an idea that is in the future. A ghost, if you will, of our purposes. But it is for another time” she finished as her cup was replaced, as was Gad’s, and she sipped from it sparingly.
“No, I speak of simpler things, of the ideas of rumour. You have been pulled into them, excellent. The best way to know how to use them is to be fooled by them, to analyse them and then eventually understand them,” she continued, “I speak instead of masking our own actions under a blanket of misinformation. A bit more advanced than mere rumour but it starts in the same source” she sighed.
How does one explain the way they think to someone who isn’t in their head? How can you teach someone things which you don’t really think about anymore but travel upon instinct…like breathing? she frowned slightly within her thought.
“Let’s take the idea that, perhaps, I was available for sale. A common enough thing to find in the streets. Now if I were to whisper that to the revellers here I would need to choose the right ones,” she swept her right hand across the room, “they can’t be too drunk of it becomes distorted or forgotten. We start with basics. You chose well with the wench, she would spread things quickly but perhaps not accurately. So we tell Merv too, his factual knowledge is folded into the wench’s enthusiasm as surely anyone interested would ask him also, he is the owner and sells the drink. Now we choose a third, a random semi-merry mercenary perhaps, and he takes the story out into the world”
“The trail is laid and people would come to find out the truth, this would spread and thus the rumour is told. Over time it becomes so distorted as to be useless almost but for a small window there is enough rumour and fact that it can be used”
“Now, let us say we do this in every tavern in Sunberth, each time from a different perspective. We give different facts. The Simpering Sea Cow that they can meet me at the Knight’s Armoury. The Fish Bowl we let it be known that Web is open for hire but what jobs she is best able to do. Each story released into the city, melding and blending and more importantly…becoming” she clenched her fist then triumphantly.
“So we see that it is not enough to tell others what we want them to know, we have to create a composite of various threads and try to get them to weave together. The most convincing story is one that seems to come from the agreement of many people”
“Now take our group…people think we are finished I have noticed. Can you weave me a way to make sure that they continue believing that? That we can add to, piece by piece, until we can convince them that graves we make ourselves are our own? Think Gad. Your mind is sound. Tell me how we can use the method I just described to do it”
“Then…perhaps…we will do it together” she smiled then, settling back into her chair and watching him.
She had promised him danger and she would deliver it if he chose, though the time of said danger was never referenced. They would start small, she would tease him and teach him into being able to play larger games perhaps. She needed someone to act as a protégé as an experiment after all – she had promised to teach Bitzer and she was unfathomable. A decent grounding would be needed and with gad she could gain that in exchange for her own knowledge.
