ROLEPLAY

Sylede s'inclina et quitta l'assemblée des nobles discrètement.

Il ne lui fallut que quelques mètres pour se rendre compte qu'il était suivi. Il pressa d'abord le pas et pris un chemin de traverse pour sortir de la ville. Puis il couru jusqu'à l'agent des îles de la forêt qui dans un premier temps ne voulu pas le laisser passer. La trykette se rapprochait. Sylede dévoila rapidement son emblème et s'engouffra dans le tunnel...

Il traversa le village, la forêt, puis remonta le chemin qui menait vers l'antre de sa Maîtresse. Elle l'attendait.
- Comment cela s'est-il passé, demanda-t-elle ?
- Ils ont l'air perdus. Ils refléchissent mais aucune voix ne semble s'imposer. Ils s'opposent les uns aux autres mais ce ne sont là que de simples mots. Ils manquent d'ambition et de stratégie pour l'avenir.
Sylede baissa les yeux.
- Mais j'ai été imprudent, j'ai dû semer une poursuivante en courant pour revenir jusqu'ici.
Elle leva la garde de son épée et lui frappa violemment le visage, visiblement hors d'elle.
- Imbécile ! Il fallait simplement attendre tranquillement au bar ou au marché qu'elle se lasse de te suivre. En courant tu lui laisses penser qu'elle est une menace pour toi.
Elle reprit son calme et s'assit dans son fauteuil. Sylede garda pour lui son amertume. Elle réflechit. Un vent glacial parcourut la pièce pendant ce qui sembla durer de longues minutes. Enfin elle se leva.
- Viens !
Elle l'amena près du brasero et y jeta une poudre verdâtre. La lumière du feu devint plus intense puis une épaisse fumée se forma.
- Tu dois faire plus attention. Nous devons encore attendre le bon moment. Il faut être patients, dit-elle doucement.
Sylede respira profondément la fumée verte et regarda dans la lumière. Il commença à distinguer deux énormes crocs, puis des pattes...

Sylede had been patient, very patient. The little snoop had given up trying to find him. She now seemed to be minding her own business. Time had done its work, and he could now do as he pleased.

He walked forward masked, observing the crowd gathered to cheer the child. No one noticed him. He ventured to remove his helmet. No one paid any attention to him. They were focused on the play unfolding before them.
Then it was his turn. He gave his bouquet, and spoke his truth. Through his mouth, the people speak.
Tamiela didn't seem to realize the full significance of this. The Karae was performing, true to her courtly game. Aniro-Karin was obviously more subtle. Her face showed perfect mastery. Impossible to draw any conclusions at this hour. But the message had got through, that was certain.
There was no reaction, barely a murmur from the assembly. They had already moved on.
Sylede withdrew quietly.

She barely raised her head when he made his report. The light flame of the brazier allowed her to discern a rare smile when he finished:
- The seed is sown, and when it breaks through the bark, it will produce a tree taller than ever...

Sylede wandered among the bodies and debris. The fetid gas from the laboratory explosion had dissipated, leaving behind a scattered mass of burnt flesh and boiled sap. The lucky ones were slowly recalled by the Karavan. For the others, the dismembered remains left no chance of salvation.

All the implications of this setback were methodically listed in his mind, one after the other, like well-labeled jars on a shelf.
Her Mistress's wrath would be terrible, and we had to submit to it.
The sound of the detonation would attract attention, so we had to lie.
The laboratory had been destroyed and had to be rebuilt.
The chemists were dead, so we had to recruit.
But these complications didn't alter his determination to see their plans through. He'd been raised for it. He'd been conditioned for it. The data from the experiment would see the process through.

Step one:

As he reached the top of the root-pecker, he saw His silhouette silhouetted against the glow of the glowing brazier.
- The mixture was too unstable for the chemists to control.he told her without delay.
She turned slowly and glared at him:
- This failure is yours, and you'll have to accept the consequences.
He bowed mechanically to receive his punishment, gritting his teeth. The immense shadow of His rising arm shot up to the ceiling before crashing down in rage and pain...

Sylede's punishment had been terrible. It had taken him several days to recover. His Mistress sometimes seemed to revel in her power over him with unhealthy pleasure. Doubt and the urge to rebel might even creep into his mind for a few moments, but his conditioning prevented him from deviating from the task he'd been assigned since childhood.
Convinced that he had to fix his mistake, he set about getting the plan back on track.

Step 2:

It had been a simple matter to insidiously spread the rumor that some party had gone wrong, that a Tryker had blown his stock of fireworks. After all, lake fireworks were notorious among the Matis for their carelessness and lack of rigor. For the price of a drink, the bar pivots had done the rest of the work:
- It's not the first time...
- Haha, they've made others, much worse...
- It's always the same with them...
- Pfff, really unprofessional Trykers...
- Good for nothing, I tell you...
And there it was, drowned in a flood of other uninteresting news, about the latest fashionable nonsense or the supposed antics of a court nobleman, any question about the detonation had disappeared.

Step three:

Finding workers was easy. You could always find some poor bastard willing to earn a few dappers. If you chose them wisely, their disappearance would go unnoticed. No one in the teeming mass of Yrkanis would care.
The materials needed for reconstruction could also be found discreetly among the outlying tribes or by smuggling. It would only take a little time, but Sylède had the time.

On the other hand, he needed someone to finalize the production machine and refine the process. On this point, he could no longer afford to fail...

Flasco didn't know how to get out of this situation. He'd had to accept this contract to pay off some gambling debts, and now found himself at a loss. He had helped this shady Matis to recruit cheap labor, but the rumors of disappearances that kept coming back to him plunged him into doubt and the shame of having participated in a deadly enterprise.

His company was well established in the forest, just developing in the jungle and lakes, and this was no time for the Palace to fall on him. He would be answerable to Matis justice, and guilty in his brother's eyes of destroying everything they had built together.
But he was bound by this dubious contract, and couldn't get out of it so easily. Even the thinly veiled threats were too frightening for him to brush aside.

Hope finally came from the Lakes. A slim hope, a ridge path she had to follow.

Airmy had been asked to discreetly organize the convoy of a Tryker engineer and his equipment. But that happy idiot! Instead of finding a few mercenaries who would hold their tongues for a fee... Nec! Airmy had found nothing better than to tell the Black Dragons!
When the request for a certificate of responsibility arrived to "reassure" Eolinius, Flasco understood the mess he'd gotten himself into. He could already see himself being arrested by the guard. But he was quick to grasp the opportunity this presented. After all, he was only a bona fide intermediary, he would play the naive.

The Black Dragon expedition couldn't slip quietly into the Kingdom. It was the kernel of sawdust in Sylede's well-oiled machine.

And if anything should happen to the engineer afterwards...

Cains was delighted with the wild ride along the winding roads leading from Avendale to Yrkanis. Like any self-respecting tryker, he had quickly recognized the Bai Nhori Drakani insignia worn by his friendly escort. The equally charming Airmy had chosen them well, and Cains immediately felt at ease. Cains, who had never left the Lochi, had seized the opportunity to find a job in Yrkanis, as well as the chance to make a nice trip.

Until then, he'd mostly built wind machines for tribes, brewing machines or taffy machines in Byrh. This would surely be different in the forest, not in Byrh, but the recruiter had promised that there were plenty of materials and tools available. On the other hand, it was still necessary to bring the base of a large wind machine, as well as a still. The rest wasn't very clear, but it promised to be an exciting project.

Cains loved tinkering with little machines. He'd taken the opportunity to test out his new firefly box, a portable mini firefly scanner that he wore around his neck. Unfortunately, his device hadn't liked the big paw of a huge cuttler on the border of the fleeting garden, and the lucios of all the beautiful places they'd passed since Avendale were largely unusable.



In Yrkanis, the dashing Flasco had installed him in a picturesque Matis apartment. House-trees were a curious thing for the old tryker, but he felt at home here. After a good night's rest, he set about restoring his luciograph to working order and was soon out and about visiting the Matisse capital and its surroundings...

Flasco's bad publicity, with its conspicuous Tryker convoy, had made him hesitate to recruit Cains as planned. Sylede could sense that someone was on his trail. The Palace was asking around, spies could be anywhere. Now he only left his hideout in disguise, or under cover of darkness. He'd wait it out, it would settle down, as it always did. But the project had to be completed, he had no choice.

Everything was now organized according to plan. The engineer was beginning to assemble the machine. It had been easy to handle. For the chemists, the job was more complicated. They still had to work out how to vaporize the substance.

Delays accumulated and with them torments and bullying:
- Orders have been given, we're moving as fast as we can to avoid another explosion," says Sylede to justify herself.
- The signs show that time is running out, you must speed up the work!

The last blow had thrown him to the ground. As usual, Sylede didn't flinch. But as Elle moved away, allowing him to get to his feet, a furtive thought flooded her mind with anger... Just for a moment... Like a flash... Before disappearing almost instantly.
Only the simple sneer on his face could have suggested the first crack in his conditioning, the unconscious breach his Mistress's rage had opened that day.