Role

Chapter 21

Demolition diaries: misdirection
Added Thu Apr 28 11:16:51 2022 at level 47:

I will not write of what took place beyond the sealed gate, for some things
are best not put to paper. Time remains an intractable foe, and now the
question is whether it shall slay me or whether I shall dodge the killing
stroke.

Few know of my foray, though I believe many suspect. While the clock winds
down and I prepare for the sprint that may begin or end it all, I intend to
stack the deck in my favour. How could I do anything else? If you want
someone to walk into an explosion, sometimes you've got to make them go
where they don't realise you want them to, while making them think you
really don't want them going there.

I always have thought Coqui is a bit of an odd elf. I was so, so wrong.
Suffice to say I've changed how I measure such things due to a recent
conversation. She's an interesting one though, and one with a somewhat more
open mind than most. That's not really surprising, given her connections.

Inquisitive is the word, I think. Very curious. I knew that if I mentioned
something she didn't know, there would be that need to uncover what it
meant: and hey, she'd learn something too. A win win win, at least for she
and I. Perhaps not for the people the bait was meant for.

I do wish I could have seen the Maran's face when this young elven squire
walked up to him and started asking about the Conservator. By all accounts,
he did not seem too thrilled. Nevertheless, Coqui seems to have got her
answers, and no doubt those whispers of my intentions to be mummified are
even now circulating among the Fortress. That's a good start, because what
the Maran know there is a good chance the Outlanders will soon hear about
too. Best to be sure though, so that'll be next. A little of a tougher one
to approach, and its important this is organic, or at least appears to be.
I'd be so fortunate to have stupid enemies, but assuming that is a really
bad plan. I'd much rather they assume they're playing me. That always makes
things easier.

The idea of getting one over on the High Herald appeals to me too. She
might have forgotten that I owe her for her jaguar-salvation activities all
those years ago, but I haven't. Maybe I'll drop by the inn, have a nice
conversation. Clear the air, and slip in something that she won't be able
to resist sharing. The wish for some obscure relic, perhaps?

Decisions, decisions. Those that would see me fail will all want to believe
the story that I am putting out. A delicate touch is best for that reason.

But not too delicate.