Peleps Deled's Vault
Peleps Dahlia sat at a desk carved from an immense piece of coral, its polished surface covered with intelligence reports delivered mere moments ago by a tall, thin man. She scowled. The thin man had seen this scowl a thousand times before, and he knew that Dahlia was displeased. And when Dahlia was displeased, people died; often as part of a demon-summoning ritual.
“You are certain of this, Flotsam? My brother’s killer wields the family heirloom?”
The thin man bowed deeply. “Yes, m’lady. There is no question; the Perfected Argument has been found in the Marukan, in the hands of the Anathema Storm of Amber”.
“How reliable are your sources?”
“Very reliable, m’lady, under normal circumstances.”
“Under normal circumstances? Do not toy with me, Flotsam, or I will rip your heart out and let my husband experiment on your corpse.” The husband in question, Peleps Damocles, found this amusing. Watching from a divan to the side of the desk, he chuckled as he idly twirled a scalpel between his fingertips.
Flotsam remained unfazed; years of working for House Peleps had inured him to threats of pain. “I understand the delicacy of this news. I had my sources captured and tortured to be sure that they would not change their tune under pressure; they insisted they saw it with their own eyes. By the time they died, their story had not changed.”
Dahlia snarled and threw a glass of rare wine across the room; it collected in a crimson puddle on the green marble floor. “There’s no way I’ll get my hands on the direlance now. Even if I did, those damned Immaculates would surely claim it was corrupted and confiscate it. I was next in line to inherit it... if only Deled could have died in a training accident, or in the field surrounded by our family’s agents; if only the damn fool hadn’t gone on another Wyld hunt into the stinking pits of the East!”
Damocles rose from his couch and yawned. “Now now, dear, is that any way to speak of the dead?”
“Do not mock me darling; you know the only reason I haven’t had you killed…”
“…is because you’re madly, madly in love with me.” He walked over to the desk, a cocksure grin on his face, and kissed his wife; a long, deep kiss lasting minutes. Damocles was Fire-aspected, an unusual partner for a Dynast of the water-dominated House Peleps. “Besides,” continued Damocles, “you don’t really want Peleps Deled’s lance. I’ve been digging around in your brother’s vaults ever since we received that letter from House V’neef informing us of your brother’s… tragic misfortune.”
“Husband, I’ve wanted to make the Perfected Argument mine since I first laid eyes on it when I was a child. What does Deled have in his musty vaults that could possibly change that?”
“Well, your brother had quite the collection of confiscated heretical texts. Including a book that describes a rather… interesting… implement.” He reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out an ancient scroll. “One that I think you would rather appreciate.” He unrolled it and placed it on the desk atop the pile of intelligence reports.
Its contents caused every fiber of Dahlia’s being to constrict with lust. The scroll before her depicted a spear of unspeakable magnificence, bound to a sash of pure essence that followed and enhanced the wielder’s every movement. For a practitioner of the Crimson Pentacle Blade Style like herself, it was the finest weapon that could possibly exist.
“How... where... no matter. I must have this. You hear me, Damocles? Let the Immaculates consign the Perfected Argument to the vaults, I no longer care. For the Third-Arm Glaive shall be mine."
Damocles rolled the scroll back up, the same insufferable grin still plastered on his face. “Yes, well, I thought you might say that, so I commandeered one of your family’s ships. If we’re going to build you this prize, we need to travel to the Elemental Pole of Wood to obtain the first piece...”
“…and if we’re travelling so far afield, we’ll need muscle. Flotsam!”
“I await your command, m’lady.”
“Summon Hubris and Bacchys at once. Tell them that we’re all going on a little... expedition... to the far east.”
