A Day in the Life of a Gentleman Spy
Nov 11, 2022 15:33:58 GMT
Anthony, Delilah Daybreaker, and 3 more like this
Post by Jaezred Vandree on Nov 11, 2022 15:33:58 GMT
10 a.m. — Arise & breakfast
Lord Jaezred Vandree awakes in his soft, Mulhorandi cotton four-poster bed at the Four Fair Winds with the warm, still-sleeping, slender figure of Imryll in his arms. Her greenish-blonde hair is strewn under his nose as she has laid her head on his chest, and her back rises and falls with deep, slumberful breathing. Sunlight is straining to enter the room through the dark curtains shrouding the windows, but the drow prefers his room dark at all times.
Drowsily planting a kiss on the top of her head, he gently moves Imryll to the pillow next to his and slides off the bed. He splashes water in his face, puts on a shirt and trousers, and cleans himself up with prestidigitation before creeping out the door.
The first order of the day is breakfast. The staff of the Winds is used to him being in their kitchen by this point in time. They exchange good mornings but otherwise leave him to do his own cooking in peace.
He returns to his suite with breakfast and tea for two, just in time as Imryll sits up on the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The elven couple enjoy the lovingly-cooked breakfast together, joined soon enough by Velve the black widow familiar (crumbs of toast for her), Myravalor the stoat familiar (a cut of bacon for him), and He’lylbreia the shadow panther, snuggling in the blankets (mushrooms and tomatoes for them). A whole family meal in bed.
11 a.m. — Morning routines
After breakfast, it is time to get ready for the day. Imryll takes a while to do her makeup, and Jaezred keeps her company as he does his morning exercise, exchanging banter and quips all the while. He pretends to be aggravated by her teasing insults, much to her delight. He adores that roguish smirk of hers.
When she is finally done, she kisses him goodbye and disappears in a puff of sparkly mist, off to the Feywild for a little bit of espionage.
For his part, he dresses himself, puts on his goggles of day and hat of disguise, and goes out into the world.
12 p.m. — Lunch
Lunch today is at the Three-Headed Dragon — a plain, forgettable meal of roast chicken and vegetables with a dollop of gravy, accompanied by a mug of subpar ale. Whilst Lord Jaezred would normally turn his nose up at such middle class dining, “Mr. Underhill” — a shy human trader — is perfectly content in this establishment, gazing in awe at the colourful crowd of heavily-armed adventurers all around him.
A crowd has gathered at the table next to his to hear an exciting story being told by a blue-skinned elf adventurer. Dwirhian of Galavir is recounting the time she and a few others helped a death slaad named Tracy. Mr. Underhill listens attentively, saying nothing and chuckling softly at appropriate times during the tale. Dwirhian barely notices him, and is thus unaware of his mental note-taking.
1 p.m. — Work
No one notices the unassuming Mr. Underhill walking into the busy afternoon crowd in Portal Plaza and emerging as a wood elf man in a green cloak.
Wearing a variety of faces, he seeks out a few of his little flies, scattered all across Daring Heights. A greedy acolyte at the Temple of Waukeen. A chatty maidservant at the Auber townhouse. An archer at Fort Daring whom he trained during the gith invasion. A family of wolf spiders that had made their home in Daring Academy. A disgruntled, paper-pushing bureaucrat at the Town Hall. A street urchin who loiters around the Dawn Market. Several adventurers.
It is no easy task maintaining such a far-spanning web. Each little fly needs to remain trapped in some unique way, for they each have their own desires: bribes, gifts, access to influence, information… Not to mention the fact-checking and verification he has to do, since word of mouth alone can hardly be trusted. But there is so much happening in Kantas at any given moment that it’s worth all the costs.
Continued strife between the two temples in Kundar. Undead riders seeking out elemental artefacts. Council politics. K’ul Gorani politics. A suspected devil cult in Port Ffirst. A notebook on the cusp of becoming a god.
Even on the best of days, it’s a lot. Never a dull moment in the Dawnlands.
4 p.m. — Afternoon tea
Whilst Paradise Frost is typically his go-to place for a tea break, in wintertime Jaezred prefers the Cannonfodder Café, with its sweeping view of Daring Cemetery against the backdrop of an early sunset (that is, the main reason why he prefers the colder months) creating a marvellous — if a touch morbid — scenery.
He enjoys his tea and cakes alone on the terrace as he watches the sunlight disappear, giving way to the gloaming which descends slowly upon the rolling hills of the graveyard. This is the perfect way to recharge energy before embarking on more social engagements for the evening.
When the darkness touches Adventurer’s Rest at last, he wipes his mouth with a napkin, leaves a tip, and walks out of the café.
4.45 p.m. — A social visit
The Pierre-Vielles who have the honour of hosting his visit today. He summons He’lylbreia as a stallion and hops into his sleek black phaeton carriage for a swift ride beyond the walls of Daring Heights, to a deceptively antiquated-looking manor house just a ways out of town.
Sitting by the lit fireplace of a parlour room, whilst having even more tea and cakes, he chats with the lovely half-elven sisters and a couple other rich folk (and also Heret Velnnarul) regarding the latest gossip in town. Mr. de Vere talks about something he heard at the Temple of Waukeen: one of the priests, an ambitious second son of a wealthy merchant, has been making noise about the Council seat left vacant by Rholor Vuzehk’s absence. According to this priest, the High Diviner has been gone for far too long and since the date of his return remains dubious, the seat ought to be filled, preferably by a cleric of Waukeen, preferably him. High Priestess Yaltine Everian, however, has yet to make a comment.
Naturally, Jaezred already knows about this priest’s campaign for the citizen seat. It was simply a matter of time until something like this happened. The Council has been neglecting to address publicly the issue of Rholor’s extended sabbatical, and so has the Temple of Selûne of which he was head cleric. None in the temple has stepped up to take on the mantle of leadership and temporarily fill in for Rholor at Council meetings — not Acolyte Melissa, nor Sister Seraphina, nor Sister Nessa, nor Sister Velania.
Priestess Velania Kalugina… As beautiful as she is wise, as capable as she is uncertain.
The drow lord eats a bite of cake and imparts a few pithy remarks about religion and politics in Daring Heights; “At least it’s not Menzoberranzan,” he jokes. After a while, the tea party moves on to discussing Jean Auber and the rumour of a very embarrassing statue of his likeness hidden away in his home.
6 p.m. — Poker
The poker table at the Gilded Mirror is populated by the usual suspects — fat cats, chancers, and those somewhere in between. The changeling is there again, wearing the disguise of the pretty elf woman, sipping a martini and flashing a coquettish smile at the other gamblers around the table. Unaware that Jaezred’s eyes can see through her shapeshifting.
At the end of the game, he has won a tidy sum of 100 gold pieces. He winks at “Ylana” before tossing the croupier a tip and leaving the table.
7.30 p.m. — Dinner & cocktails
Contrary to the popular saying, dinner is in fact the most important meal of the day and therefore, in Jaezred’s humble opinion, it ought to be the best meal of the day. Thus, after establishing himself as the most formidable poker player in Daring Heights, he returns to the Four Fair Winds Tavern — still the best place to eat in the Dawnlands. Imryll is fashionably late, as usual, to their meal of salad, pumpkin soup, potatoes au gratin, beef tagliata with arugula and cherry tomatoes, and vanilla crème brûlée.
As long as the Fiore Popolare remains closed, cocktail hour is to be had here. He has always preferred the understated elegance of the Winds to the loud extravagance of the Mirror — the difference between old money and the nouveau riche, he supposes. The elven couple drink and laugh and flirt playfully with some attractive patrons.
10 p.m. — A warm bath
On each floor of the inn, there is a communal-use bathroom with a single large copper tub, a plank of wood laid across it to hold a jug and two goblets. The bathroom is impeccably maintained: clean, always stocked with fresh towels and sweet wine in the jug.
Imryll gets into the hot, bubbly water first and Jaezred gets to massaging her shoulders and feet. She hums her approval of his strong, kneading motions. Then he strips down and steps into the tub to sit with her.
There’s nothing like her touch when it comes to releasing the tension in his muscles. He holds her in his arms and they sit there awhile, snuggling and drinking wine.
11 p.m. — Correspondences
Jaezred had picked up his letters from the reception before heading upstairs. Sitting at the desk in his room now, he opens and reads them one by one.
A letter from Priestess Amala Lovesong in Zot Goran informs him of the death of Senate Leader Tasos Earthhardle. And there is a separate letter from the Council of Daring Heights asking him to attend Earthhardle’s funeral as a representative of Daring Heights. An invitation to the Fiore Popolare’s soft reopening ceremony from Leona Autumn herself. And finally, the regular weekly update from Stonecast regarding the work being done for his tea rooms in Port Ffirst.
He pens a reply of condolence to Amala and wishes her well, and then a brief note politely declining the Council’s request, stating that he is busy but is sorry to hear about the Senate Leader’s passing nonetheless. Then he writes a cheeky postcard addressed to Oziah and Delilah in Fort Ettin.
Once all that is done, he begins compiling a report for Queen Nicnevin, containing the important highlights of everything he has learned in the past week, concealed under an illusory script that only she can read. Weaving the multitude of threads he has collected to craft a web for her.
In between the letter-writing, he takes breaks by summoning He’lylbreia as a panther and playing with them with oversized cat toys.
12 a.m. — To bed
When the midnight bell rings, Jaezred climbs into bed next to Imryll, who is still reading that untitled romance novel written by a Twilight Court guard. It’s a ridiculous book with far too many side plots, but he finds himself reading it over her shoulder every time and getting hooked.
Eventually, Imryll has enough of reading for the day and turns her attention to him, which he receives and reciprocates happily. It is another hour or two until they fall asleep in each other’s arms.
Lord Jaezred Vandree awakes in his soft, Mulhorandi cotton four-poster bed at the Four Fair Winds with the warm, still-sleeping, slender figure of Imryll in his arms. Her greenish-blonde hair is strewn under his nose as she has laid her head on his chest, and her back rises and falls with deep, slumberful breathing. Sunlight is straining to enter the room through the dark curtains shrouding the windows, but the drow prefers his room dark at all times.
Drowsily planting a kiss on the top of her head, he gently moves Imryll to the pillow next to his and slides off the bed. He splashes water in his face, puts on a shirt and trousers, and cleans himself up with prestidigitation before creeping out the door.
The first order of the day is breakfast. The staff of the Winds is used to him being in their kitchen by this point in time. They exchange good mornings but otherwise leave him to do his own cooking in peace.
He returns to his suite with breakfast and tea for two, just in time as Imryll sits up on the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The elven couple enjoy the lovingly-cooked breakfast together, joined soon enough by Velve the black widow familiar (crumbs of toast for her), Myravalor the stoat familiar (a cut of bacon for him), and He’lylbreia the shadow panther, snuggling in the blankets (mushrooms and tomatoes for them). A whole family meal in bed.
11 a.m. — Morning routines
After breakfast, it is time to get ready for the day. Imryll takes a while to do her makeup, and Jaezred keeps her company as he does his morning exercise, exchanging banter and quips all the while. He pretends to be aggravated by her teasing insults, much to her delight. He adores that roguish smirk of hers.
When she is finally done, she kisses him goodbye and disappears in a puff of sparkly mist, off to the Feywild for a little bit of espionage.
For his part, he dresses himself, puts on his goggles of day and hat of disguise, and goes out into the world.
12 p.m. — Lunch
Lunch today is at the Three-Headed Dragon — a plain, forgettable meal of roast chicken and vegetables with a dollop of gravy, accompanied by a mug of subpar ale. Whilst Lord Jaezred would normally turn his nose up at such middle class dining, “Mr. Underhill” — a shy human trader — is perfectly content in this establishment, gazing in awe at the colourful crowd of heavily-armed adventurers all around him.
A crowd has gathered at the table next to his to hear an exciting story being told by a blue-skinned elf adventurer. Dwirhian of Galavir is recounting the time she and a few others helped a death slaad named Tracy. Mr. Underhill listens attentively, saying nothing and chuckling softly at appropriate times during the tale. Dwirhian barely notices him, and is thus unaware of his mental note-taking.
1 p.m. — Work
No one notices the unassuming Mr. Underhill walking into the busy afternoon crowd in Portal Plaza and emerging as a wood elf man in a green cloak.
Wearing a variety of faces, he seeks out a few of his little flies, scattered all across Daring Heights. A greedy acolyte at the Temple of Waukeen. A chatty maidservant at the Auber townhouse. An archer at Fort Daring whom he trained during the gith invasion. A family of wolf spiders that had made their home in Daring Academy. A disgruntled, paper-pushing bureaucrat at the Town Hall. A street urchin who loiters around the Dawn Market. Several adventurers.
It is no easy task maintaining such a far-spanning web. Each little fly needs to remain trapped in some unique way, for they each have their own desires: bribes, gifts, access to influence, information… Not to mention the fact-checking and verification he has to do, since word of mouth alone can hardly be trusted. But there is so much happening in Kantas at any given moment that it’s worth all the costs.
Continued strife between the two temples in Kundar. Undead riders seeking out elemental artefacts. Council politics. K’ul Gorani politics. A suspected devil cult in Port Ffirst. A notebook on the cusp of becoming a god.
Even on the best of days, it’s a lot. Never a dull moment in the Dawnlands.
4 p.m. — Afternoon tea
Whilst Paradise Frost is typically his go-to place for a tea break, in wintertime Jaezred prefers the Cannonfodder Café, with its sweeping view of Daring Cemetery against the backdrop of an early sunset (that is, the main reason why he prefers the colder months) creating a marvellous — if a touch morbid — scenery.
He enjoys his tea and cakes alone on the terrace as he watches the sunlight disappear, giving way to the gloaming which descends slowly upon the rolling hills of the graveyard. This is the perfect way to recharge energy before embarking on more social engagements for the evening.
When the darkness touches Adventurer’s Rest at last, he wipes his mouth with a napkin, leaves a tip, and walks out of the café.
4.45 p.m. — A social visit
The Pierre-Vielles who have the honour of hosting his visit today. He summons He’lylbreia as a stallion and hops into his sleek black phaeton carriage for a swift ride beyond the walls of Daring Heights, to a deceptively antiquated-looking manor house just a ways out of town.
Sitting by the lit fireplace of a parlour room, whilst having even more tea and cakes, he chats with the lovely half-elven sisters and a couple other rich folk (and also Heret Velnnarul) regarding the latest gossip in town. Mr. de Vere talks about something he heard at the Temple of Waukeen: one of the priests, an ambitious second son of a wealthy merchant, has been making noise about the Council seat left vacant by Rholor Vuzehk’s absence. According to this priest, the High Diviner has been gone for far too long and since the date of his return remains dubious, the seat ought to be filled, preferably by a cleric of Waukeen, preferably him. High Priestess Yaltine Everian, however, has yet to make a comment.
Naturally, Jaezred already knows about this priest’s campaign for the citizen seat. It was simply a matter of time until something like this happened. The Council has been neglecting to address publicly the issue of Rholor’s extended sabbatical, and so has the Temple of Selûne of which he was head cleric. None in the temple has stepped up to take on the mantle of leadership and temporarily fill in for Rholor at Council meetings — not Acolyte Melissa, nor Sister Seraphina, nor Sister Nessa, nor Sister Velania.
Priestess Velania Kalugina… As beautiful as she is wise, as capable as she is uncertain.
The drow lord eats a bite of cake and imparts a few pithy remarks about religion and politics in Daring Heights; “At least it’s not Menzoberranzan,” he jokes. After a while, the tea party moves on to discussing Jean Auber and the rumour of a very embarrassing statue of his likeness hidden away in his home.
6 p.m. — Poker
The poker table at the Gilded Mirror is populated by the usual suspects — fat cats, chancers, and those somewhere in between. The changeling is there again, wearing the disguise of the pretty elf woman, sipping a martini and flashing a coquettish smile at the other gamblers around the table. Unaware that Jaezred’s eyes can see through her shapeshifting.
At the end of the game, he has won a tidy sum of 100 gold pieces. He winks at “Ylana” before tossing the croupier a tip and leaving the table.
7.30 p.m. — Dinner & cocktails
Contrary to the popular saying, dinner is in fact the most important meal of the day and therefore, in Jaezred’s humble opinion, it ought to be the best meal of the day. Thus, after establishing himself as the most formidable poker player in Daring Heights, he returns to the Four Fair Winds Tavern — still the best place to eat in the Dawnlands. Imryll is fashionably late, as usual, to their meal of salad, pumpkin soup, potatoes au gratin, beef tagliata with arugula and cherry tomatoes, and vanilla crème brûlée.
As long as the Fiore Popolare remains closed, cocktail hour is to be had here. He has always preferred the understated elegance of the Winds to the loud extravagance of the Mirror — the difference between old money and the nouveau riche, he supposes. The elven couple drink and laugh and flirt playfully with some attractive patrons.
10 p.m. — A warm bath
On each floor of the inn, there is a communal-use bathroom with a single large copper tub, a plank of wood laid across it to hold a jug and two goblets. The bathroom is impeccably maintained: clean, always stocked with fresh towels and sweet wine in the jug.
Imryll gets into the hot, bubbly water first and Jaezred gets to massaging her shoulders and feet. She hums her approval of his strong, kneading motions. Then he strips down and steps into the tub to sit with her.
There’s nothing like her touch when it comes to releasing the tension in his muscles. He holds her in his arms and they sit there awhile, snuggling and drinking wine.
11 p.m. — Correspondences
Jaezred had picked up his letters from the reception before heading upstairs. Sitting at the desk in his room now, he opens and reads them one by one.
A letter from Priestess Amala Lovesong in Zot Goran informs him of the death of Senate Leader Tasos Earthhardle. And there is a separate letter from the Council of Daring Heights asking him to attend Earthhardle’s funeral as a representative of Daring Heights. An invitation to the Fiore Popolare’s soft reopening ceremony from Leona Autumn herself. And finally, the regular weekly update from Stonecast regarding the work being done for his tea rooms in Port Ffirst.
He pens a reply of condolence to Amala and wishes her well, and then a brief note politely declining the Council’s request, stating that he is busy but is sorry to hear about the Senate Leader’s passing nonetheless. Then he writes a cheeky postcard addressed to Oziah and Delilah in Fort Ettin.
Once all that is done, he begins compiling a report for Queen Nicnevin, containing the important highlights of everything he has learned in the past week, concealed under an illusory script that only she can read. Weaving the multitude of threads he has collected to craft a web for her.
In between the letter-writing, he takes breaks by summoning He’lylbreia as a panther and playing with them with oversized cat toys.
12 a.m. — To bed
When the midnight bell rings, Jaezred climbs into bed next to Imryll, who is still reading that untitled romance novel written by a Twilight Court guard. It’s a ridiculous book with far too many side plots, but he finds himself reading it over her shoulder every time and getting hooked.
Eventually, Imryll has enough of reading for the day and turns her attention to him, which he receives and reciprocates happily. It is another hour or two until they fall asleep in each other’s arms.