That Which Rekindles (Closed)

[Zandelia]

Spring 26th, 512 AV – The Library


Zandelia had spent the last twenty three days putting off what was a decidedly important task for her, personal as well as practical. That was not to say she had been lazy, far from it indeed for she had been trying her hand at the beginning processes of forming the first stronghold of the Crimson edge – a tavern of all things. All in all she was rather fond of the idea, simple and subtly effective for her business as it was. She had signed the contract under no illusions that it would take up the majority of her time throughout the spring season, however she thought it would be worth the blood and sweat in the end. The concept of failure was not one she readily accepted, for the most part liking to skew the odds to make sure she would not do so, however a slithering of doubt had crept into her mind over the weeks. Her life was forfeit if the work was not completed, however the first check up with the mysterious lackeys of the Loan Shark had gone well enough.

Well enough to invest more in at the very least she thought to herself as she wove her way through the crowds towards the Library of Sunberth, her eventual destination.

“The place where the beginning ends and the end begins,” she muttered to herself in amusement, “poetic indeed” she noted to herself as she managed to duck into a side alleyway and enter the warrens that would save her much time on her journey.

The news of her father being alive had shaken her beyond measure, the fact that he had killed her mother had angered her enough to led a spark to the rekindling flames of self-belief that had been so badly damaged in Mura. It had been the fact that he had sold her into years of slavery, had actively sought to keep her under that yoke and even ordered her death via Garret that had finally roused her to vengeance. A complex series of emotion warred within her now, had done so for days and would undoubtedly continue to do so for some time to come. She still loved her father, despite everything, he was a figure whom had become so firmly entrenched within her persona that ripping him out was all but impossible to do without catastrophic fallout. On the other hand she found herself wishing she could personally bite his throat out, rage all consuming she could not be trusted around people at those times.

And so I seek solace, refuge and answers. The work no longer waits, it has come to me. I cannot continue without structure, without release she knew the words inside her skull were all too true. If she left the issue longer she would be liable to break, burst open and lash out in ugly ways.

“And then he would have won, getting me killed without even knowing – his old wishes complete. No, I’ll focus myself, direct the energies towards his demise. He will not break me…” she whispered, “not again” she growled the last two words as she approached the dismal threshold of the Library.

She threw the doors open with a little more force than was necessary, shame flooding through her as the clashing sound of wood on stone echoed through the dusty, shadowed interior. As she stepped through the clouds of billowing dust particles, dancing in what little light there was filtering through in cracks, she could almost feel the weight of centuries of knowledge pushing down upon her. It spoke out, whispering into her consciousness as if it had personality of its own, a mouth with which to tease and tantalize. Her footsteps were slow, methodical as she traced her fingers across the spines of dozens of tomes of varying sizes and conditions. She had been here before, what seemed like an age ago now. An Ethaefal she had met, the one whom had inadvertantly found her father’s book, a once treasured possession now tarnished into a mere tool for use – weapon waiting to be unlocked. She could almost hear the words she had told Eridanus before…

A person once told me that knowledge is power, but I realized all too quickly that it is the application of said knowledge, rather than the knowledge itself, that determines ones strength...

At that moment she knew them to be true, however her knowledge had been wrong – skewed and bias. She had not seen through to the real facts. So she returned now, in search of the knowledge with which to build her power. She hoped that she would find it.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia sat down at the dusty table, still smeared with a layer of particles despite her best efforts to wipe them away. She disliked having to read through the sneezing, however she had been forced to give up on the dream of having a clean learning environment. As she rested her elbows upon the solid oak surface, cradling her cheeks in contemplation, she tried not to think upon how many people had left flakes of their own behind over the years – now being inhaled into her own lungs. She shook her head and knew the thoughts were morbid, that they would make her ill, and tried to put them to the very back of her mind – to the darkest recesses of afterthought. She had a small pile of tomes arranged around her, only five in number.

It would appear books upon intelligence skills are as rare as the skill itself in Sunberth. What I would not give for Lhavit right now she thought to herself, sighing heavily at the memories from the past.

“No, will have to make do with what I have, as per usual” she muttered into the dank gloom as she pulled the first tome towards her and looked upon the spine.

Tactical Espionage and its Practical Applications she noted the name, remembering it from her time with Eridanus, a most intriguing creature to her indeed. The name was, as with most of the books, faded and gone.

She opened and began reading, noting how each page for a good two scores at the beginning were filled with the boring banalities of the nature of the work the writer had attempted to create. There were no references to city names, national names or any form of information upon which Zandelia could guess its origin – as if the author sought purposefully not to give the information away. As she flipped through the pages she pondered upon whether that was the purpose behind the prologue pages – to confuse and disorient to some level, to misdirect and leave the students within the shadows, left to guess and put pieces together themselves. Her suspicions were partly confirmed by the abstract and philosophical ways in which the words were put to parchment and partly by the fact that the first ‘true’ chapter was rather more to the point. She sat up straight and found interest at last.

The Analytical Method

The way by which one discerns the hidden truths, the facets of the concealed, lies not in what one knows but the perception reflected upon such knowledge. The way one perceives is a powerful tool in any trade, this is true, however with those dedicated to espionage it can become a tool as fine as any razor and as strong as the ones of the earth. Information can be held by anyone, it is the connections that are the power behind it. Example, if you will, is required to understand the concept. A man may see another in the street, driving a cart of goods and know only that the other man was driving a cart of goods. However, if one were to analyze further then one could discern far more. What was the man wearing? Was it rich clothing or poor? If rich, is he a merchant with valuables? And so, and so forth. This we see that analytical thought is a required staple of the intelligence art forms. One cannot read a situation fully but looking upon the surface. If you seek to infiltrate a building you must know every entrance and exit, the patterns of the occupants, the number of guards (if there are any), have a planned timing, know what each member of the team’s task is so as not to overlap and interfere. One cannot plan these without proper investigation and analysis of gleaned facts. Here, below this humble author will seek to break down the steps of such thinking for you, the student, to practise with.

1) Asses the validity of the information gathered. Was it first, second or third hand? If not first were the carriers of such information trustworthy? If not then discard until further facts are gathered.

2) If the source is dependable then you must analyze motivation and desire – even if you garnered it yourself. Bias plays a large role in the downfall of information gatherers/analyzers. Care must be taken to make sure that what has been gathered is fact and not assumption.

3) If the facts are thus solid and unquestionable (largely) then one can begin to take the pieces and put them together. Patterns are not always obvious, links can be tenuous. Similarities are not always obvious and counter-intelligence can murk the waters. There are signs to look for that shall be discussed later here.

4) Once stages one through three are complete, only then can you begin to translate thought into action. Never ignore the three sages, for to do so leads to failure and death more often than not.

Here ends the basic premise of the analytical method, learn it well. Use it to shape deeper perceptions. The exercise for it is simple. Observe a chosen group of people and learn their mannerisms, their interactions. Sue that to create a supposed web of links between them. Attempt to predict what they will do ahead of when they do it, you may be surprised.


Zandelia let the book lie where it was for a few moments as she thought upon what she had read and he exercise it had asked of her. It was a simple thing, an acknowledgement of the intrinsic properties of information, however it was something that gave her a different perspective upon the nature of her work. She had used the method written, or at least a rough version of it, almost by accident of common sense. However, now she had penned – in her own hand upon rough parchment – a copy of a stable and solidly practised method. She would use now, complete the exercise upon the members of the Crimson Edge, and see how it held up in the modern times.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia found it strange that she was learning more from a single book than she had learnt from a dozen contacts and self-implementation of personal knowledge. In some ways it was a marvel to her mind but in others she began to despise the clutching, fumbling ways in which she had been thinking. Now, however, thought travelled within her mind at lightning speed, connecting the dots and correcting past mistakes she had made with the new information she had absorbed. She would never be so blaze and foolish again, not when it came to her own ambitions. She had never really attempted counter-espionage beyond operating in secrecy, but now she was making plans beyond mere concealment. She had never thought deeply about how her own motives may have impacted upon the assimilation and analysis of raw data, but now she was reconsidering her approach.

If only I had had this damned thing when I started I could be twice as powerful as I am now, instead of a backwater rogue with hopes and dreams. Manifest destiny, I always thought it was for the over-inflated of ego. But controlled…..potential indeed she thought as she flipped through another score of pages that detailed perceptive techniques and patter recognizing exercises. She noted them all down upon several pieces of parchment for future contemplation and practice.

She came to a stop upon the next section that jumped out at her gaze as particularly conniving and noteworthy.

Discerning Buildings by their Uses and other Aspects of Human Agency

The mistake the novice tends to make is that of thinking one has to be inside an actual building to get an acceptable sense of what its function, layout and occupants are made up of. This is something that leads the budding intelligencer into revealing themselves all too soon with an infiltration attempts. This leads to failure more often than not, with capture and death almost certain. This approach is useful when one has more raw data to work with and the requisite abilities. However, for those un-possessing of these two factors the approach is foolish for several reasons, listed below:


1) It alerts those resident in the property to surveillance, leaving those who remain (if there are any) without the important element of surprise

2) Capture means that there will be no rescue. Torture will be used to force the captive to tell the captors what they know. Everything they know. This endangers the remaining cell further

3) Without proper prior surveillance and deduction the infiltrator/s will learn nothing other than there are doors and walls. This can be learnt without potential risk is done correctly, thus nullifying the need to infiltrate at this early stage


There are further reasons, however those above should suffice to curb the bravado of the foolish. That done we can move on the more providential methodology of discerning the desired place of surveillance without actually entering the property in question. The real key o this is to observe the coming, goings and actions of the people resident. Are they guards? If so then how many are there? This can tell you the likelihood of the number of beds for said guards and the fact that such mercenaries never bunk separately (in most cases) one can deduce the general size of such rooms. Are they well supplied and have you seen large numbers of supplies entering in long intervals of time? If so there is likely a store room and the number of supplies can tell you how large this will relatively be. The size, shape and material the building is comprised of can also tell you much. It can tell you the required foundations and likelihood of a cellar or basement. If one were to make detailed sketches of the building then a mason could be bribed into imparting information upon supporting walls and their necessitated positions. From this basic plan one can extrapolate various rooms and their locations. Entrances, exits and their numbers also provide you with information as they rarely enter straight into an enclosed room itself. Coupling that with the above one could extrapolate positions of likely corridors and potential ‘choke points’. As we can see there are many ways to perceive the interior without actually needing to enter it.

Use these techniques well, formulate their practice and build upon what bare bones you have been given here. There are hundreds of ways of learning without any risk at all. Practice is something that is absolutely required to fully comprehend, however if one is intelligent (if we can excuse the pun here) then one is afforded little to no risk and can do so indefinitely. The exercise in to find a building that you have never entered, attempt to plan and plot its likely layout and room uses. You may be surprised upon entering this property how accurate one’s presumptions can be.


Zandelia had read it three times before she was satisfied with her notes. It was strange, how one’s perception altered the field f play so radically. She had not thought to employ her talents in such a way, always more eager to be the ‘foolish intelligencer’ and enter recklessly. It was a lesson that she would hold true to her heart as she moved onwards in her quest for knowledge and power. She was also beginning to garner an idea of the overarching philosophy behind the writer’s words now too. It was an art of both ‘taking whole’ in the informatics sense, but a decidedly passive approach in terms of the rudimentary planning stages. Yet, it also seemed to be more effective in the long run. She had worked by the philosophy that actions spoke louder than words, however faced by the text of this ‘master’, she was beginning to note how passivity was far more preferable to activity, not to mention its application to other areas of her workings.

The bastard has a point indeed. How I wish I could meet him, to know him as an equal one day. I wonder what happened to him and who he was? He must have accomplished great things from his shadows. I suppose I will never know now she mused as she placed her newly dried papers upon the growing pile beside her.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia sat within the musty depths of the Sunberth Library, her thoughts deep and slow moving as she let patience and critical thought take over from wonderment and excited free planning. If she had learnt anything of note lately it was that acting before one was sure was a mistake that could not be tolerated, the book itself had confirmed such a tenet of consideration. As far as she was aware her father had no knowledge she was actively planning against him, however according to the texts she should not be so foolish as to assume such a position until confirmed. She took a few moments to muse upon the fact that the only word she held her father was alive was Garret’s, and the logic that the supposition followed. The story made sense, in a convoluted way, but she was now filled with a certain unease that she did not like.

No, trusting is out of the question. The data provided is tenuous at best, not to mention second hand from an old half-enemy. I will have to discern the truth for myself. Unfortunately, that means I must cut Garret out of the loop completely for the time being and rely upon my own senses she thought as she pushed herself backwards from the table and came to a stand now.

She slotted the book away, for now, behind a series of others where it would not be found. It would not have done to give a competitor easy access to the knowledge hidden within the tome. No, if they wished to follow in her footsteps they would have to earn their way as was fair. With that done she flicked her robes about her person, almost imperiously, as she set about following out the exercises she had learnt from the tome, grabbing the papers notes she had made and slipping them into the depths of her clothing for future use. It was not long until she was at the door, dusty footprint left in her wake, and out into the streets of Sunberth once more. She looked around, peering to see if any eyes observed her exit but finding nothing set out through the alleyways, twisting and turning until she finally let out breath she was not aware she was holding as she emerged onto the main through fare between the docks and the Castle Commons.

“Let us see what intelligence garners us today, hmm Zandelia?” she muttered as she began the long, slow and meandering walk towards the north eastern corner of Sunberth and the section of ramshackle housing that had taken root there many years ago now, flourishing despite the bloody streets.

She was following the words of the book now, knowing that what knowledge she did inside her skull was of no use to her in practical application aside from the notation that it was a possible ploy by Garret to leash her back into his machinations. She had been playing the part of the fool well, but was not entirely convinced he lied either. She would need more data before she could accuse him of such as banishing him from her circle would possibly weaken her position – an intelligencer’s nightmare. As such, it was with some growing sense of a web forming around her, ensnaring her, that she came to the mouth of a small alleyway, the exit leading to the area where this ‘safe house’ was situated – according to Garret. She had never travelled there, her own concerns more pressing in other direction to necessitate the time to go – or perhaps her memories preventing her from going in a protective manner.

Now we get ourselves some raw, first hand data she told herself as she edge up to the corner and let her eye peek around, searching for the building that Garret had described to her in some detail.

“So, he was not lying about the building at least, very wise. Conjuring a building for me to find is not there would be too foolish even for him” she muttered as her gaze took in the low building.

It was roughly oblong in shape for the most part, with what looked like a roughly constructed extension that turned one end of it into a slight L-shape. There were men standing guard at two entrances that she could see, two per door, and smoke rose from what appeared to be two chimney stacks as light flickered beyond several windows. She smiled as she withdrew around the corner, pulling out a sheet of parchment and hastily making a sketch of what she could see from her current vantage point. It took a few minutes and some hasty inking of the quill she had brought but it was an only partially smudged success. She set about navigating the alleys further, coming out at several vantage pints to sketch more – putting together as full a picture as she could for her purposes. That done, she retreated back the way sh had come to think about what she had seen.

[Zandelia]

As she made her way back towards the Castle Commons she thought about what she had gleaned in her brief expedition to see the supposed ‘safe house’. She had affirmed that it existed, or at least that a building where Garret had told her there would be existed. In truth it confirmed nothing other than that there was a building, a ramshackle affair made of crude stone and wood spliced together. It logically seemed as if it could be he resting place of a group wishing to lay low, to fade into the background as they continued their workings – whatever there were. However, it told her nothing of whom occupied it or what their motives were. It could just as easily been the resting place of a minor band of thugs with no connection to her father. She still had much to do before she could reasonably make that connection solid enough to act upon.

To act without just cause would be foolhardy at best, revealing myself to threats other than those I wish to contend with if I am not careful about it she told herself as she paced the streets, her mood truly introspective and analytical for the first time in a long while.

“And I still have no idea as to what the inside of the place will look like, though the book holds some suggestions there” she muttered to herself, searching her mind for the best mason or carpenter to ask without much suspicion being aroused.

She had seen the guards, however, and they had looked well trained and well armed indeed. They had been hard to notice, wearing black and blending in slightly with the grimy exterior of the building. They had been wearing armor though, she was sure of that from the cut of their clothing. It had appeared too stretched and flat to not be resting upon some form of protection. She suspected leather but had no real way of knowing beyond waylaying one of them. She made a mental note to have someone watch the place for her day and night, following any whom left the area to see what could be uncovered – with the tip of a dagger or not. As she made that note she found her feet taking her towards the bridge and the territory of the Sun’s Birth. She knew where she was going now, her subconscious mind taking her there of its own accord whilst she thought.

“The carvers, outside the city, would be the best to ask with least questions asked. For some coin, and perhaps a purchase of something they would more than happily tell me about the structure, its weaknesses and possible internal layout” she murmured to herself, happy enough to let her feet do the walking as she kept up her analytical mentality.

Garret would gain nothing from lying to me outright, so I suspect the building used to be somewhere my father used – if he did survive. As to whether the group still work for him, well that will take some searching for the truth she mused to herself slowly, mulling it over and deciding that Garret had not lied, if not having told her the full truth. She had almost killed him once before and he knew he would be killed properly this time if he betrayed her. She could always rely upon his weasel-like survival mechanisms to win out over personal goals with him.

As she walked she formulated her plans, or the beginnings of them at the very least. She would send a note to those whom served Dinala tonight, assigning them to watch the building and its occupants. She would speak to these carpenters regarding the building, if they knew whom had built it and if s where they could be found. She would also set about searching for clues regarding Garret’s whereabouts the past decade and see if her nets could not dredge something up she could use to lever further information out of his rotten mouth. She was finally ready to start laying her pieces upon the board, her confidence bolstered by her findings and forging her ahead as she continued her machinations, her pace slow and steady as she headed back to the encampment.

[Archelon]

Thread Award "..." And the Results!!!!: Zandelia : SkillName 1-5 How/why? Intelligence 4 Reading 5 Observation 3 Investigation 2 Lores: Hallmarks of behaviors surrounding a safe house. Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Interesting, any questions comments, concerns, please feel free to pm me a nice pm .