[djo]

With the game moving again, now is the time for all to go and read the various turn 30 yarns again, with their momentous and terrible happenings.

Thus you will be prepared for...

Vanheim turn 33


In which we are once more concerned with the mail.

* * *

To Belletennares of Alteion, General of the Armies of Vanheim, Prophet of Vethru

Cousin,

I have just received a disturbing message from Pherios. I've enclosed a copy with this letter. Wait until you are alone before you read it--it will disturb you, and its contents should be kept secret. I have not yet shown it to Anteirios and Mistepeillia, nor to anyone in House Lunetellerion. I hope you agree with me; I thought it best to wait until you and I have investigated further.

If what he says is true, we have a big problem. I hope you can look into this as soon as possible. I will be asking questions of my own.

Love,

Petema

* * *

Dear Molly,

I hope you are doing well, and that my leaving hasn't caused any problems for you. If Vethru is bothering you, please talk to my aunt. She has a lot of influence, and she will protect you, even from him.

I am writing because I need a favor. You know what I'm trying to investigate. It would be helpful for me to know where Vethru is, and where he is planning to be. If you know anything about his schedule, official or unofficial, could you please tell me?

To reply to this message, address a letter to "Kineros" and bring it to the tavern on Green Dolphin Street. It will find me.

I hope this will all be over soon, so our lives can get back to normal. If you have any news of my family, I would like to hear it. I can't bring myself to write to them. What could I tell them?

Take care,

Pherios

* * *

Vethru

You'd think that a god wouldn't have to do paperwork, but it turns out the more you rule, the more bureaucracy there is. It doesn't matter if your underlings are humans, elves, dwarves, hobbits, orcs, goblins, ogres, dragons, unicorns, Martians, Orion slave girls, clones, androids, or hyper-intelligent shades of the color blue. And it gets even worse when your minions are mindless. They need a lot of looking after. You end up with a Byzantine hierarchy of middle managers: the zombies report to a zombie team leader, who reports to a zombie shift supervisor, who reports to a zombie department head, and then you have the manager and regional manager of zombies, and if you've got a big enough empire, you've got six more levels above that. By this time, human resources, excuse me, zombie resources is eating one-third of your budget.

Killing your minions when they screw up just makes your training costs go through the roof.

And don't get me started when they unionize...

I'd finally gotten through all the routine correspondence, and it was time to think strategically. "Ji! Do you know anyone discreet over on Triastellus?"

"Yeah, I know some people. What do you want? Someone good with languages, or history? Or a priest?"

"The last two," I say. "I want to know more about Alteion. What he did, what kind of skills and talents he had."

"Jeez, boss, half the people on your staff are related to him. Ask them. No need to send me up the hill."

"I want the truth, not his family's impression thereof. And some things, you don't ask the family."

I can see Ji's little bird brain churning as he decides whether or not he wants to know what I mean by that. As usual, curiosity wins. "Like what?"

"Is his body actually buried in his tomb on Triastellus?"

He squawks. "Boss, I know where you're going with this, and it's a big mistake. They'd hate us forever!"

"We may not have a choice. Vanheim is still weak, and I don't want to be at the mercy of every nation that threatens us."

"But the Pythium mess has been taken care of," says Ji. "Ermor is falling apart. What are you worried about?"

"Think. They've already just about declared war."

"Oh, right. They are kind of fanatical," says Ji. "Still, there's got to be another way. If you do what I think you're thinking, I don't think the lady will stand for it. She's still mad about Galameteia. If you piss her off any more, she'll probably take all her dwarves and disappear into the hills. Like you-know-who did."

"They are my dwarves, not hers," I tell him, but it's beside the point. I might be able to do without the lady, but losing Pherios hurt. Molly probably sees as much, but she just doesn't have the experience to interpret it correctly. And I couldn't afford to alienate Belletennares, either. Damn House Alteion. Maybe it'd be best to let the old man rest.

"Anyway, I have another letter for her. Would you take it over this afternoon? I need an update on the research progress. Be as nice as you can. Sweet talk her."

He says, "I'll do my best. But you know how women are..."

I did. You can't not-live with them, you can't not-live without them.

* * *

To Lord Vethru, God of Vanheim,

Sire,

I am writing to report a disruption in Birman Highs. Last night, Lord Pherios of Alteion sneaked into our compound and entered the mines. He visited the gem extracting operation but did not interfere with it. He did not harm the guards or cause any damage, and the operation continues on schedule.

He did, however, break into the lower areas that you sealed off. It is reported that he spent nearly an hour there. As per your standing orders, we did not attempt to restrain him. He did not reply when we hailed him, and we quickly lost him once he rode into the forest.

Your servant,

Utreius of Vanheim

* * *

Anteirios

The message arrived with all the others. It appeared to be the plainest of them, lacking any elaborate official seals, and written on plain, inexpensive paper. Yet it was the most extraordinary of the lot.

It was unsigned, and it was printed in a simple script that effectively disguised the author's hand. I deduced it was probably dictated in any case.

The contents had been masterfully crafted. Each time I read it, I found another subtle implication or nuance of expression that further piqued my curiosity. Each sentence, apparently innocent, joined with its brethren to culminate in an invitation for me to consider the wisdom and motivation of certain actions and decisions of Vethru.

And yet, they didn't--they wouldn't, to another man. This was clear, after the fifth and sixth readings. The events were discussed obliquely, tangentially, never directly. The conclusions would only be drawn by someone with a certain turn of mind. I knew the writer, and he, she, or they knew me, well enough to juxtapose the precise combination of observations that would compel me to investigate the issues raised.

I assembled a list of persons who were both that familiar with me and who also had access to the information in the letter. After rejecting all of them, I consider combinations of two, then three, then more of them. None of them explained the letter to my satisfaction. This was puzzling. The familiarity was so strong that I could not have overlooked any potential authors.

I called for more wood for the stove and more hot tea. I began reading the letter a seventh time. The clues were before me. I would find them and deduce the answers to the two mysteries: what was Vethru up to, and who wanted me to know about it?

* * *

Dear Pherios,

It's so strange with you not here. Everyone treats me funny because they think I can see their future. Everyone human, that is. Your people seem to accept it more easily. I guess they're used to the magic and everything. Petema is especially understanding. I think I would go mad if I weren't staying with her now.

Vethru hasn't been bothering me. Actually, he's been very nice. He said that I shouldn't worry about you, because you are very smart and very capable and you knew magic. He also told me it was OK if I kept your secrets from him. He said he trusted me to do the right thing. And he was so understanding that I told him that I'd do my best to keep listening to the future without you. But later I figured that he really did want me to tell him about you, and that's why he was being nice, so now I'm mad at him for that.

And I know he probably wants to know where you are, but I really had to write, so I told Petema, and she said that she could get a letter to that tavern without Vethru knowing.

I'm writing because I heard him catching up with you. It's going to happen soon, and I don't know how it's going to turn out. I hope he doesn't catch you, and I'm scared for you. And not just because of him. I don't know where it is you are when he finds you, but it's dark. There's a lot of confusion. And then it gets really bad.

I don't even want to think about it. You warned me. You told me someday I'd hear awful things. I did. I haven't slept in two days, because when it gets dark, I hear them. They whisper in the dark. If you hear them, Pherios, run away! I don't want to think about what happens after. You've never heard screaming like that. Or maybe you have. But I hope not.

I don't know what else to say. I'm trying to keep working, but it's hard. I hear things, but I don't understand what's going on like you did. If you can write back, please tell me what you've been seeing. I need to know if I'm doing this right. OK?

Please be careful!!!

Your friend,

Molly