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Book Two
THE ETERNAL COURT
FILE · EC · BOOKTW · EDITION I · MDCCXCIII
Book Two
The People of the Eternal Court
Who serves the Queen, who is owed to her, and who lies awake in their bed thinking otherwise.
KORMOR KIRAK · VIDEK · ANNO 1793
VolumeII
SettingCastle & City
VoiceDramatis Personae

PART ONE: CHARACTER PROFILES

The Key Players of Kormor Kirak

Every character carries a lie they tell themselves and a truth they are not yet ready to face.

CHARACTER PROFILES

OLIVIA FAREN: THE ACCOUNTANT'S AWAKENING

When Olivia Faren was assigned to Lord Barron Whitehallow's mission, she believed it a promotion. She had spent her entire life in the service of the Albion Capital's financial apparatus, beginning in the state dormitory where she was raised alongside other children of no particular importance. Numbers were her only inheritance. She learned young that precision, discipline, and unwavering attention to detail could transform chaos into order, disorder into beauty. The comptometer became her instrument of truth; her fingers moved across its keys with such extraordinary speed that her lips would move in silent accompaniment, as though her mouth was counting along with her hands, verifying each calculation twice over before the machine delivered its verdict.

Her speech betrays her origins: short declarative sentences delivered with a street accent that the Counting House never quite polished away. She recites the Albion oath -- "By his grace, I rise" -- like a mantra, invoking it when frightened, when proud, when reminding herself of the empire that raised her from nothing. She claims Albion has better versions of everything she encounters, a habit that is simultaneously annoying and endearing, the patriotic reflex of someone who has never had anything else to be proud of. Beyond the comptometer, her fingers know older methods: Chisanbop counting, where each digit represents a number and her hands become a living abacus; beaded strings she manipulates with startling dexterity; knotted cords that encode values in their patterns. These are the tools she reaches for when the machines fail or when counting itself becomes a comfort against anxiety.

At twenty-four, Olivia has never traveled beyond the capital's reaches.

She has never tasted alcohol nor danced in a ballroom. She has never been within twenty miles of royalty. Her entire world has been governed by ledgers and imperial policy. When she discovered the financial anomalies in Barron's departmental records, she did not hesitate; she brought them directly to Lord Wooster, presenting the evidence with the same mathematical certainty that had defined her life. The irregular flows of gold, the unexplained withdrawals, the careful obfuscation of certain transactions, these were not opinions or suspicions. They were facts. Numbers do not lie.

But Lord Wooster's response shifted something in her. The reassignment came not as accusation but as opportunity. Barron needed someone with her particular gifts. Someone who could see patterns where others saw only chaos. What Wooster did not tell her, what she would discover only through bitter experience, was that she had been chosen precisely because she possessed no attachments, no one to lose, no emotional obligations that might cloud her judgment during the trials ahead.

Olivia's greatest strength was her isolation; it was also her most dangerous vulnerability.

Her motivation has always been straightforward: to serve the system, to maintain order, to prove her worth through work. Yet something fractured the moment she noticed those anomalies. The empire she had served with absolute sincerity, the one she could recite the oath for without a tremor in her voice, was not what she believed it to be. Her greatest fear is not danger or death; it is meaninglessness, the possibility that all her discipline and sacrifice have been in service of something rotten at its core. Her weakness lies in her need for certainty. When the systems that have always guided her begin to fail, she retreats into simple sums, counting her breaths like a child, trying to restore the orderly world she understands.

What drives her deepest secret is not ambition but something far more personal: the recognition that the locket she carries, the one bearing an illustration of Prince and Princess that she touches like a talisman, represents the only real hope she has ever dared to hold. When anxious, when the world becomes too complex to calculate, she opens that locket.

It is not faith in any traditional sense; it is faith that something about the world might still be just, that somewhere nobility and goodness still exist in their purest form.

The friendship that forms between Olivia and Princess Szeret becomes the emotional engine of everything that follows. It is unexpected, intense, and profoundly terrifying to a woman who has never allowed herself to care about anything but her work. Szeret sees in Olivia not an accountant, not an outsider, but a person worthy of fascination. She finds Olivia's hand-held mechanical calculator, that brass cylinder with its intricate levers, more mesmerizing than any jewel in the castle. In turn, Olivia begins to see the world through Szeret's eyes and finds it both beautiful and terrible. Her arc carries her from absolute certainty into profound doubt and, eventually, toward a kind of faith that is neither naive nor dependent on systems that can fail. She learns to dance, to let loose the control she has maintained so carefully, to allow herself to be known.

During the campaign, Olivia suffers from terrible airsickness on the blimp, an indignity that shakes her composure more than danger ever could. She discovers she becomes drunk with remarkable ease, a vulnerability that embarrasses her. She develops a complex jealousy watching Jack and Eppy together, a feeling she cannot calculate or control, which troubles her deeply. Yet she also proves herself capable of extraordinary things: she defeats Devorlen Koss at cards through nothing but observation and logic, and her mind becomes sharply attuned to the patterns of corruption and deception that plague the kingdoms.

Olivia's outward presentation is precise. Her hair is always tied back, her clothing practical and unmarked by excess. She moves with economical grace. Jack calls her 'Liv, a familiarity that both pleases and unsettles her in ways she cannot quite articulate. Inside, she is learning what it means to have something to lose, to care for someone beyond the reach of calculation or control.

She builds friendships the way she builds ledgers: through service. When she helps Eppy balance the Bastion Inn's books, when she untangles Rozito's market accounts, when she finds the error in a merchant's figures that has been costing him money for months, she earns trust without asking for it. This is how she connects in a city where she is a stranger: by being useful in the most practical sense, by demonstrating that her particular gift for numbers can make other people's lives better.

Secret

She lies when she tells herself the empire is just, that devotion to its systems will keep her safe. The truth is far more dangerous: safety is an illusion, and the very systems she has served may be the source of the suffering she witnesses. Her journey is learning to hold both truths simultaneously and to choose her path not because the system demands it, but because her conscience requires it.

Campaign Use

Olivia serves as the player character most likely to question authority, make difficult moral discoveries, and grow through emotional connection rather than combat. She is the campaign's conscience and calculator. Games that employ her as a protagonist should emphasize investigation, discovery, and the emotional weight of learning that trusted institutions harbor corruption. Her jealousy, vulnerability, and growing strength create natural story hooks. She bridges the gap between mundane reality and magical transformation, making her an ideal viewpoint character for understanding the stakes.

BARRON WHITEHALLOW: THE DYING DIPLOMAT

Barron Whitehallow moves through the world with the practiced grace of a man who has spent four decades learning how to present precisely what others need to see. At sixty-three, he remains striking; his modified

Foreign Minister's uniform reflects taste and confidence. The blood-red lining of his coat catches light as he descends the parliamentary steps, his high-collared vest framing a face that still carries the bones of the man he was when younger. The cape sweeps behind him with deliberate elegance. Yet anyone paying close attention would notice the tremor in his hand, the way he steadies himself against the railing, the careful rhythm of his breathing.

He is dying. The illness moves slowly enough that only those intimate with him truly understand the urgency, but it is there nonetheless, a passenger he has carried since his time at the Mounds near Barrow, where

Terrassia's asphyxiating gases scarred his lungs, or perhaps from something far more personal, far more complicated. The handkerchiefs he carries are fine linen, monogrammed, and he has learned to excuse himself with practiced discretion when he needs to cough. When they come away with blood, he simply folds them quickly and moves forward.

What drives Barron is not ambition, though he has climbed high enough to sit in the councils of power. It is the belief, perhaps naive, perhaps courageous, that violence can be prevented through dialogue, that understanding can bridge even the deepest chasms between enemies. When asked how he justifies his peaceful philosophy in a world bloodied by warfare, he answers with mathematics: Where hate and violence reduce populations, love, consistently, does the reverse. He has seen enough of war to know the mathematics of peace are far superior, yet he has never quite found the courage to face the price such mathematics demand.

His greatest fear is not death; he has made peace with that. It is irrelevance, the possibility that his carefully constructed philosophy might crumble on contact with truths he has spent decades avoiding. His weakness is his romantic history, specifically his unresolved entanglement with Kiraline. That relationship is complicated in ways he has never fully disclosed, touching on obligations and debts that have twisted through the years into something neither quite friendship nor quite enmity. Kiraline can appear at his bedside uninvited; she moves through the castle as though walls do not constrain her. She is dangerous, and Barron is aware of this, yet he cannot quite summon the will to remove her from his life entirely.

What few in the present know is that Barron first came to Kormor Kirak decades ago as a young General Counsel, and in those years he and Kiraline shared something genuine. Whether it was love or mutual fascination between two brilliant strategists hardly matters now. She earned his trust, and he earned hers, and the debt that created runs deeper than any diplomatic arrangement. He still wears the old uniform from those days -- modified, elevated, but recognizable to anyone who knew him then. The sword cane he carries is from that era as well, an elegant weapon that most mistake for a gentleman's affectation.

What others do not know, what Barron himself tries not to examine too closely, is that he carries not one but two powerful artifacts. The gold medallion bearing a dragon's head with amber eyes and blood-drop pupils remains his key to the castle's deeper places. His signet ring accesses vaults where state secrets rest in shadow. He recruited Olivia, Jack, and others to this mission not through calculation but through something closer to instinct. He sensed in them qualities his mission would require: Olivia's incorruptible logic, Jack's loyalty despite his burden, and a capacity in all of them to transform fear into action.

Barron's lie is elegant in its construction: he believes he can broker peace without confronting the personal debts he owes to the queen, the complicated history that binds him to Kiraline, the way his youthful choices have shaped the present conflicts. His truth is far more devastating: his body is failing, his past is catching up with inexorable force, and peace may ultimately require a sacrifice so personal and so complete that he cannot yet name it. By the series' progression, the complications of his history ensnare him. Kiraline turns him, not through force but through the leverage of past affection and present desperation. He becomes her unwitting agent, serving ends he does not fully comprehend, trapped between his dying body and his divided heart.

Those who knew him before the ministry, those few remaining friends like

Lord Wooster, still call him Benji in private moments, and in those moments something younger flickers across his face. He was a General

Counsel in Kormor Kirak before his present post, and the skills he learned there, the alliances he forged, the enemies he made, all of these continue to shape his present. He dresses with purpose; every button, every fold of fabric, communicates authority and refinement. Yet beneath the uniform, he is increasingly hollow, running on will and momentum, drinking more than he used to, sleeping less, his cough becoming a constant companion he can no longer quite excuse away.

Secret

He lies when he claims he can navigate the present crisis without reckoning with his past. The truth is that his personal history has become inextricable from the political moment; his debts are being called due, and the cost may be everything he has built in the name of peace.

Campaign Use

Barron functions as the campaign's moral center and its point of maximum vulnerability. He is mentor, guide, and cautionary tale. Games that employ him effectively should emphasize the ways good intentions can be corrupted through personal compromise, the way nobility and pragmatism collide, and the tragic cost of choosing peace over justice when circumstances demand both. His illness provides natural narrative time constraints; his relationship with Kiraline offers opportunities for betrayal, redemption, or both. He is the character who teaches players that influence and power create obligations that cannot be escaped through will alone.

JACK WINBOW: THE SOLDIER'S SHADOW

Jack moves through the world as though expecting violence at any moment, yet his violence, when it comes, carries a grace that speaks to years of discipline. At thirty-eight, he appears a decade younger, until you look at his eyes; they have seen things that have worn the youth out of them gradually and completely. He is introduced to the party in the role of a stable-hand, an identity he maintains so thoroughly that several members miss what he truly is until the moment becomes impossible to ignore. His hair is unkempt, falling across his scarred face with a kind of deliberate negligence, and when he smiles, it reaches those tired eyes with genuine warmth that seems almost incongruous for a man built like he is.

His instinct in any confrontation is to de-escalate. He positions himself between threats and the people he protects, uses body language and calm voice before he ever reaches for a blade. But when the situation turns and de-escalation fails, something else takes over -- a berserker fury that has frightened allies as much as enemies. The shift is sudden and total. The man who was talking a drunk out of a knife fight becomes something primal and devastating. He hates this about himself. He drinks too much, a habit he manages rather than controls, and the alcohol dulls the edges of memories he would rather not carry. He speaks half a dozen languages picked up from years traveling the empire with the military, and he uses this knowledge to make anti-empire comments just pointed enough to needle Olivia without quite crossing the line into genuine disrespect. His love of animals runs deep, rooted in his years working the stables at the Battle Academy before Barron recruited him. Horses, dogs, even the rats in the stable walls -- he understands them in a way that goes beyond training into something instinctual, something connected to the nature he carries inside him.

He stops a Cavalry Count in the act of beating a stallion with a shove so casual it appears almost accidental; the Count finds himself on his back, stunned not by violence but by the absence of it. Jack guides a horse through an obstacle course of flame as though horse and rider were one organism, moving with the effortless certainty of someone for whom such things represent basic competency rather than achievement. He carries a Shamsir, an elegantly curved blade that speaks to training beyond the kingdom's standard military practice, and a pouch of throwing daggers, each weighted with the precision of a weapon trusted in crisis. Yet his primary weapon is something altogether different: a

Spetum that folds into a cane, a marvel of engineering that extends to a six-foot length with a central blade flanked by side prongs. In his hands it becomes something alive, an extension of will and training that moves through combat like a dance executed at lethal speed.

The scars along his back tell their own story, parallel claw-mark lines that no standard weapon could produce. On full moon nights, his room is empty, and those who ask where he has gone receive no answer from Barron beyond a cryptic observation: your affliction may prove advantageous.

Nero, the dog who appears mysterious in other ways, sniffs the air when

Jack enters a room and something passes between them, an understanding that requires no words. Eppy, when the moment comes, whispers to him that she knows what he is. He is a lycanthrope, a werewolf, a man who contains within himself a nature that civilization teaches him to deny and fear.

What drives Jack is the need to protect others from himself and from the darkness of the world both. He is haunted not by supernatural dread but by the mundane horrors of military service. He describes battle in terms both visceral and raw: a scrum of hacking and slashing, barely-grown kids screaming and crying, then going quiet. He has killed. He has watched children die. He has seen enough of human cruelty to know that his own supernatural nature is not the most dangerous thing in the world. His greatest fear is not losing control but losing the ability to choose, becoming a thing that acts on instinct alone rather than will.

His weakness lies in his isolation. He has trained himself to distance from others, to keep his burden private, to believe that his curse remains his problem alone. He processes his trauma through physical discipline; he practices combat forms endlessly, moves that have become meditation more than training. He cleans his weapons with the patience of ritual. He invites Olivia to dance, a gesture that costs him something because it means stepping outside the armor he has constructed. He tells her something true and brutal: you could also try fear. If something you encounter scares the hell out of you, run. The advice is less tactical than philosophical; it grants her permission to acknowledge terror as valid response.

His relationship with Eppy is tender in ways that catch people off-guard. She whispers to him; they dance together; she makes tea for two when she prepares her evening drink. There is in this relationship the possibility of genuine connection, someone who knows what he is and does not flinch. It is perhaps the thing he fears most: not rejection, but acceptance. Acceptance means he cannot maintain the narrative that he must suffer alone.

Jack's outward presentation is carefully constructed casualness. The unkempt hair, the scarred face, the worn leather of his clothing, all of these communicate that he is not concerned with how others perceive him.

In truth, the casualness is as deliberate as formal dress would be. He wears scars like other men wear medals. Internally, he is learning what it means to exist as something other than human without surrendering his humanity. His lie is that he can outrun what he is, contain it, keep it sealed away from those he cares for, never allow it to define or determine his actions. His truth is far more complex: his nature is part of himself he must learn to accept, and the people he has sworn to protect may ultimately have need of him to embrace it fully.

Secret

He lies when he claims his affliction is shameful, something to hide from those worthy of protection. The truth is that his nature, properly integrated, is a source of strength, and the people who love him may need that strength more than they need his self-punishment.

Campaign Use

Jack represents the campaign's capacity for redemption, the possibility that what society deems monstrous might instead be misunderstood. He is the character who teaches by example that trauma need not define destiny, that isolation is a choice rather than necessity, and that strength without connection becomes cruelty. Games that employ him should emphasize his conflict between training and instinct, control and acceptance, isolation and belonging. His werewolf nature provides opportunities for both spectacular action sequences and intimate character moments. He is the character who demonstrates that the real work of growth happens not on battlefields but in quiet moments of trust.

PRINCESS SZERET VERESZ: THE DARK CHEERFUL THING

Princess Szeret Veresz gallops out of the castle gate on horseback at night, racing through streets designed for carriages and protocol, and the people cheer as she passes. They have learned not to cheer too loudly or for too long, because their faces fall after she disappears, as though her presence grants them something their normal lives cannot sustain. She is in her twenties, with a goth's aesthetic and a child's spirit, dark and menacing in appearance but cheery and delightful in manifestation. The contradiction, rather than confusing those who know her, forms the core of her appeal. She is everything she appears to be, and none of it, simultaneously.

Her garb is carefully chosen to evoke menace and danger; her clothing speaks of shadows and forbidden things. Yet she moves through the world with an impulsiveness and joy that seems incongruous with her appearance. When she greets Rozito, the famous duelist, her first words are not protocol but directness: don't bow to me, we're friends. She strips down to garter and hose in a dressmaker's shop, entirely unselfconscious, to try on the leather bodysuit she prefers to the dresses her mother insists she wear. She has a telescope in her bedroom, hidden behind curtains, because she uses it to observe the world she is forbidden to explore.

Szeret has never seen the ocean. She cannot read. She does not know what mathematics is. She has never encountered electric lights or indoor plumbing, existing in a castle that seems frozen in time, cut off from the modern world by palace walls and her mother's strict protection. Yet she possesses a clarity that sophisticated adults often lack. She finds Olivia's hand-held mechanical calculator more fascinating than any jewel in the royal vaults. She rates people and experiences by food names, a personal taxonomy that seems nonsensical until one realizes it is actually quite accurate: Mushroom for earthy things, Tomato for passionate things, Lettuce for boring things, Peach for delightful things. She says Flirty-Flirt-Flirt with genuine delight when something amuses her, and Uggh when she finds something tedious. She refers to herself in the third person: Szeret loves dancing. Szeret hates rules.

What drives her is a hunger for experience, for knowledge, for freedom.

Her greatest fear is remaining imprisoned, not by walls but by her own limitations and her mother's control. Her weakness is her inexperience and her trusting nature; she assumes others operate from the same impulsive goodness she embodies and is repeatedly surprised and hurt by selfishness. Her deepest secret is something she does not fully understand herself: she can transform. Her body can shift into something else, something leopard-like and powerful, and when her excitement or anger reaches certain heights, the transformation occurs whether she wills it or not. Her clothes shed as her body shifts, leaving her temporarily naked and utterly undefended in her human form during the transformation process. She has charged Rozito in the Hallaset Fields in her beast form, moving with speed and strength capable of taking down a grown man. She possesses the power to be a warrior, yet no one has ever trained her in how to use such power.

Her relationship with her mother is a constant tension. Kiraline wants her daughter away from humans, isolated, controllable. Szeret wants the opposite; she craves connection, conversation, the everyday messy intimacy of friendship. Her immediate attachment to Olivia is intense and charged, running deeper than simple friendship. She sees in Olivia something she recognizes as kindred, a fellow prisoner of duty learning to value freedom. This relationship becomes the emotional engine of the entire series, transforming both women, complicating their paths, making them vulnerable to each other in ways that terrify and delight them both.

She moves through the city like something wild wearing a crown. Her preferred mode of travel is parkour -- leaping between rooftops, scaling walls with her Spider Climb, dropping from heights that would kill a human and landing in a crouch that barely interrupts her stride. She is bisexual and polyamorous, loving freely across the boundaries that her mother's court considers proper, and this openness is both her strength and a source of constant tension with Kiraline. When strangers arrive in Kormor Kirak, Szeret follows them. She shapeshifts into birds, cats, or other small creatures and tracks the newcomers through the city streets, watching them with animal eyes that carry an intelligence no beast should possess. This is how she first encounters Olivia and Jack -- not as a princess but as a pair of bright eyes observing from a rooftop, a creature that seems to be everywhere they turn.

What others do not understand about Szeret is that her cheerfulness is not naivete; it is a deliberate choice. She could rage at her confinement, could resent her mother's control, could withdraw into bitterness. Instead, she chooses lightness, finds joy in small moments, treats friendship as the most precious treasure. Yet she is also her mother's daughter, a creature of power and danger. Her lie is elegant in its tragedy: she believes she can bridge the gap between her constrained royal life and the wider world without consequences, can be both the princess imprisoned in the castle and the wild thing she is becoming, can love freely without drawing danger to those she loves. Her truth is darker: she is her mother's daughter in ways she does not yet understand, and that heritage may carry costs she cannot yet calculate.

Szeret's outward presentation is a studied contradiction. Dark clothes, dark atmosphere, yet the way she moves is light and free. She carries herself with royal bearing when required, but her bearing is always undercut with playfulness, with the sense that she finds protocol tedious and convention absurd. Inside, she is learning what it means to love beyond the castle walls, to trust that goodness exists outside her mother's warnings, to discover that her own power is not something to hide but something to understand.

Secret

She lies when she tells herself she can explore the wider world without drawing danger to those she loves or understanding the darkness in her own nature. The truth is that she is increasingly aware of her mother's plans, her own power, and the way her heritage complicates everything.

Campaign Use

Szeret embodies the campaign's capacity for joy and the terrible cost of maintaining innocence in a world that demands growth. She is the character who transforms others by forcing them to examine their assumptions, who loves fiercely and risks devastation, who represents possibility itself. Games that employ her should emphasize her growth from sheltered royal to something far more complex, the way her friendships transform her understanding of the world, and the constant tension between her desire for freedom and her destiny as a creature of darkness. Her transformation ability provides spectacular combat moments, but her real power lies in emotional authenticity. She is the character who teaches that cheerfulness and danger are not opposites but can coexist in a single soul.

QUEEN KIRALINE VERESZ EROSZAKOS

The ballroom falls silent when she enters. Not from sound, but from cessation. The air itself seems to pause. She descends from the upper balcony as though the laws of movement do not quite apply to her, each guest finding themselves on bent knee before conscious thought arrives.

Kiraline Veresz Eroszakos wears the appearance of a woman in her forties, but this is theater. The truth is older, patient, and lethal.

Her wardrobe is a statement of deliberate anachronism: she wears clothing from earlier eras, ornamental couture that predates the current fashions by centuries, draped in silks from the Terrassian southern reaches, jewelry that catches light in ways that defy simple geometry. The effect is regal and unsettling in equal measure -- a queen dressed for a court that no longer exists, embarrassing her daughter with fashions that belong to a different age. When she moves, there is no weight to her. The dress does not sway so much as flow, as if she walks on currents invisible to others. She crosses entire rooms by means she does not explain, and the observers develop sudden interest in their feet. There is magic here, but not the kind studied in academies.

The queen once held something with Barron that was romantic in appearance. A hunter can seem gentle to prey. She strokes his face with fingers that contain centuries, kisses him with lips soft enough to draw blood, then tastes what she has drawn. When he refuses her offer of eternal bond, she drops the masquerade entirely. Her jaw unhinges to impossible angles, revealing rows of serrated teeth arranged in spiraling patterns. A tongue moves with serpentine grace, tasting the air between them. This is what she is beneath the couture and the charisma. This is what she has always been.

Her greatest fear lives in contradiction: she fears irrelevance more than destruction, yet moves through the world as though destruction itself should fear her. She loves power absolutely, loves dominion, loves the sensation of will imposing itself upon flesh and bone and spirit. Her weakness is in her own mythology. She has convinced herself that she is inevitable, that history bends toward her ambitions, and this certainty has made her sloppy. She keeps a Gawky Model in her private chambers, and when the girl no longer entertains her, she does not simply discard her. She transforms the death into performance: the body suspended in trellis formation, runes carved in necromantic patterns, the corpse pressed into service as a bridge to other realms.

This is the action of someone who has never been questioned. This is the action of someone who has forgotten how to hide.

What drives her is the conviction that humanity's reign is failure, that civilization of flesh and mortal thought is a disease upon the world. Her deepest secret is that she practices necromancy despite outlawing it among her subjects, because the outlawing serves a purpose: it makes the practice rare enough to be hers alone, makes her the only hand that can reach across the veil. The wedding was never about peace.

It was bait. The wealthiest and most powerful humans of both empires gathering in one place, unguarded in their celebration, while she built a working large enough to trap their souls and bind them into service.

She opened the gates not from generosity but from tactical calculation.

When the paranormal age arrives, when humanity's order collapses beneath the weight of things that should not exist, she will stand at the center of the ruin and call herself mother.

She rarely speaks, and this is part of her power. When she does, the words carry the weight of pronouncement rather than conversation. Her speech is precise, musical, utterly devoid of accent or regional inflection. She speaks as though language itself is something she invented. Her court reflects her aesthetic: a Cenobite grandeur where beauty and suffering exist as complements rather than opposites, where the masquerades blur the line between pleasure and horror, where guests are never entirely certain whether they are being entertained or tested. Her habits include the consumption of specific bloods, the collection of artifacts from dying civilizations, and the keeping of journals written in ciphers that would take centuries to decode. Her outward presentation is immaculate, calculated, and designed to make you forget you are in the presence of a predator. Her internal experience is one of pure satisfaction. She knows what she is. She knows what comes. She is patient because she has learned that the cruelest victories are the ones that no one sees arriving until it is far too late to stop them.

Secret

The lie Kiraline tells the world is that she is a benevolent queen offering peace between empires, a bridge between old enmities. The truth is that she is an apex predator building a trap vast enough to end an age. She is not offering salvation. She is offering damnation with excellent table settings.

Campaign Use

Kiraline serves as the hidden antagonist whose true nature only emerges through investigation and revelation. Early encounters should emphasize her preternatural charisma and power, making her seem genuinely diplomatic. As evidence accumulates (the Gawky Model's body, necromantic research, the missing souls from the wedding), players should realize they are not preventing a conflict but interrupting a working already in motion. Her resources are vast, her reach extends into both empires, and she has cultivated agents throughout the city. Direct confrontation may not be the path to victory. Stopping her might require understanding her philosophy deeply enough to turn her own servants against her, or finding a way to corrupt the working itself.

DEVORLEN KOSS

Terrassian officers rarely smile. The war took that from them. Koss rides alongside Barron through streets rendered temporary by steam and smoke, his clockwork arm producing a steady click-whir rhythm that becomes almost meditative if you stop resisting it. The mechanical fingers are precise, calibrated, less remarkable in their construction than in how completely Koss has integrated them into his identity. When asked about the arm, he offers no self-pity, no ceremony. "The least remarkable element of my identity," he says, and means it.

He is a soldier in the way some people are born to soldiering. His uniform fits him the way skin fits bone. His eyes catalog threats the way weather vanes read wind. The war cost him his arm and gave him a prosthetic that functions better than flesh ever did, which strikes Koss as fitting. He lost a limb in the service of empire and received a machine in return. The metaphor requires no elaboration.

What drives Koss is pragmatism so complete it becomes almost a philosophy. He does not believe in peace, not truly, but he believes in the cessation of active violence as a practical tool. When he explains to Olivia the truth about the wedding, he does so without apology but also without cruelty. Children who have never met. A political arrangement wearing the mask of romance. He tells her this because she deserves the truth and because lying to her would insult her intelligence. Later, speaking to Barron, he apologizes for the gas attacks and the casualties of the war. Soldier to soldier. No abstraction. No empire between them, just the mutual acknowledgment that they ordered people to die and that the people died. His greatest fear is that someday he will stop feeling the weight of those decisions, and his weakness is that he suspects this fear may already be realized.

His deepest secret is that he does not know whether his contributions to the theater reconstruction serve peace or serve a larger Terrassian strategy. The machines he provides do the work of three men in half the time. The efficiency is undeniable. But machines can be tools of development or instruments of control, and Koss understands both possibilities well enough to remain genuinely uncertain which he is facilitating. He loves the game of cards, loves the mathematics of risk, loves the way a truly good player reads not the cards but the people holding them. He loses to Olivia because she is genuinely better, and he respects her for this without reservation.

Koss's habits are the habits of a soldier: he maintains his equipment meticulously, he sleeps lightly and wakes quickly, he speaks only when speech serves a purpose. His speech patterns are clipped, efficient, stripped of flourish. His clothing is military, even when civilian, with subtle tells of rank and training visible in the way he wears it. His internal experience is one of profound isolation. He has lived in war and trained in war and now exists in a provisional peace that feels like a performance everyone has agreed to. He suspects it will not last. He suspects that many things will not last.

Secret

The lie Koss maintains is that he is simply a soldier following orders, that the responsibility for what he does belongs to the empire giving the orders. The truth is that he chooses, every day, to follow those orders, and this choice is his alone.

Campaign Use

Koss functions as the representative of Terrassian interests and as the voice of practical military perspective. He can provide information about Terrassian capabilities and intentions, serve as a bridge to Terrassian resources, or become a problem when his interests diverge from the party's. He is not cruel and not easily corrupted, but he is committed to his empire's survival in a way that transcends personal morality. What makes Koss most interesting as a campaign element is that his agenda is not the same as the true villain's. When the conspiracy reveals itself in its fullest form, Koss may prove to be an unlikely ally -- his pragmatism leading him to work with the heroes against a threat that endangers Terrassia as much as Albion. Use him to raise difficult questions about the ethics of military action, to provide access to restricted information, or as an antagonist who is fundamentally right about the dangers the city faces even as his methods remain questionable. His eventual cooperation with the party, should it occur, should feel earned rather than given.

EPPY FLINDER

The Bastion Inn is older than it should be. Eppy is younger than she should be, or perhaps timeless in a way that makes age irrelevant. She wears earth tones and natural fabrics, moves through the world with a freedom that suggests she has forgotten most of the petty rules that constrain others. Her ears are her most distinctive feature: uniquely shaped, sleek, pointed, elegant in a way that speaks to ancestry rather than affectation. Not human. Or not entirely.

Her grandmother spoke a different tongue, one that belonged to a time when empires were not yet dust. The ancestors ruled the world so long ago that the world has forgotten this fact entirely, has rewritten history to position humanity as the original inheritors. The few who remain from that age stay alive in secret, keeping their knowledge close, their genealogies closer. Eppy knows what Jack Winbow is before he knows it himself, and she tells him gently, without judgment, the way one might acknowledge a secret shared between old friends.

What drives Eppy is the preservation of the old knowledge, the keeping of things that would otherwise vanish. Her greatest fear is irrelevance, the slow fade into legend, the transformation of her entire civilization into myth. Her weakness is that she cares too much about individuals when she should be thinking systemically, and this has gotten people killed. Her deepest secret is that the comet that fell from the sky centuries ago was not chance, and her grandmother's death was connected to its arrival in ways she has never fully understood. She loves solitude and she loves good liquor and she loves the specific pleasure of seeing someone understand something true about themselves in a single moment of clarity.

The cocktails she mixes are constructed with intention: honey and herbal ingredients arranged in combinations that should not work but do,

Dewrder Hylifol among them, recipes from a time when herbalism was closer to magic than it is now. She whispers in Jack's ear at the bar with the casual intimacy of someone who has known him across multiple incarnations. When he tells her he does not love Kormor Kirak, she responds with certainty: "You will." Not optimism. Knowledge. She bridges the old world and the new in a way no other character can because she remembers both clearly, has seen them shift and change and resolve.

The Trompe l'Oeil ceiling of the Bastion Inn is a map of history nobody else remembers. The patterns seem abstract to most observers, but to those with eyes to see, they chart the rise and fall of civilizations that predate both empires by distances that make history as humans know it seem like recent events. Eppy knows necromancy not as theory but as practical craft, learned from her grandmother in quiet moments, used sparingly and with full understanding of the cost. Her speech is warm and unhurried, with occasional lapses into older word patterns that suggest languages running beneath her modern fluency. Her habits include the collection of objects from lost times, the keeping of records in forms that will survive multiple deaths of empires, and the playing of music on instruments most would not recognize.

Secret

The lie Eppy presents to the world is that she is simply an innkeeper of considerable skill and mysterious tastes. The truth is that she is a refugee from a civilization so old that its existence has become mythology, and everything she does is an act of preservation against inevitable forgetting.

Campaign Use

Eppy serves as the keeper of impossible knowledge, the guide to the old world that continues to bleed into the new. She can provide information about what Jack Winbow is, about the nature of necromancy, about the true history of the land. She offers wisdom without imposing it. She is not an enemy unless the party moves against the old world, but she is also not a simple ally. Her loyalties are to preservation and to individuals who have earned her respect. She can point toward larger truths or withhold them entirely. Use her as a quest-giver who sends the party toward understanding rather than mere action, as a source of dangerous knowledge, or as someone whose friendship with another character creates interesting complications.

ROZITO VALLIKOZO

The market manager moves through his domain like a merchant working three deceptions simultaneously. Rozito is a fixer of exceptional competence, a dealer in solutions for problems that official channels prefer not to acknowledge. He dresses in foreign fabrics and colorful patterns that seem chosen specifically to make him memorable, to ensure that when people think of the market, they think of him. He is a royal appointee, given this position by Kiraline herself, which means he serves at her pleasure and knows it.

What drives Rozito is the desire to be useful, to matter, to exercise influence in a city where most people spend their lives being moved like pieces on a game board. His greatest fear is that his usefulness will be exhausted, that he will be discarded the moment the queen finds someone more compliant or more talented. His weakness is that this fear makes him dangerous, pushes him toward commitments that he would not otherwise make, toward practices he does not fully understand but pursues anyway in the hope that they might grant him protection or power or relevance.

His deepest secret is that he is not merely sympathetic to dark magic.

He is a practitioner. And he is operating under the queen's nose in a position she personally appointed, which means either he is being permitted this pursuit or he is being tested, and he genuinely cannot determine which.

He calls Szeret a friend and claims to be a traditionalist, someone who respects the old ways and the structures that hold society together.

When royals approach, he shifts nervously, forces smiles that do not quite reach his eyes. But when he is alone at Hallaset Fields, when the witnesses are limited to the trees and the thing in him that has been waiting, his mask slips entirely. He moves with efficient violence: the carriage driver's throat opens beneath the elegant scalpel he produces from a hidden sheath, blood spraying across earth that has seen older magics spilled here. Two Red Guards die next, quick thrusts between armor plates, the blade finding gaps that should not be so obvious but are when you know what you are looking for. And then the body. The corpse laid out, the runes carved with precision, the patterns forming the shape of a figure with head and arms and legs, something ancient being pulled into modern flesh.

Rozito loves his work because work is the only place he feels fully real. He hates the constant performance, hates the feeling of being watched by his own patron, hates the possibility that he is being slowly positioned for some larger sacrifice. His internal experience is one of constant paranoia laced with ambition, a mind always calculating the next move, the next risk, the next person who might be useful or dangerous. His practical skills include the operation of the market, the management of complex supply chains, the practice of necromancy, and the ability to identify which officials can be bribed and which must be eliminated. His speech is jovial in company, precise and clipped when alone, with occasional slips into older words that suggest his family has connections to magical traditions running deeper than the official histories acknowledge.

Secret

The lie Rozito tells himself is that he is in control of his situation, that he has chosen to practice necromancy and that he can stop whenever he wishes. The truth is that the magic has chosen him more than he has chosen it, and the moment he attempts to stop, he will discover how little the choice was ever his.

Campaign Use

Rozito functions as an antagonist who might be flipped or negotiated with, a villain who believes he is pragmatic rather than evil. His position in the market makes him an essential contact for information and resources, but his involvement with necromancy and his position as the queen's appointee makes him dangerous. Early encounters should present him as a helpful merchant before the revelation of his true practices shifts the dynamic. He can serve as a quest-giver, a rival, or an unlikely ally if the party approaches him correctly. His fear of the queen makes him potentially vulnerable to recruitment if the party can offer something that seems safer than his current situation. His knowledge of necromancy means he has information about the queen's plans, though extracting it may require negotiation or significant pressure.

VARGA: THE WOLF IN PLAIN SIGHT

Varga is the local drunk, a fixture of the Bastion Inn's bar, always present in the background of scenes but never featured. He is large, hairy, and disheveled, with a booming laugh and an appetite for Eppy's Dewrder Hylifol that would kill a lesser man. Most people in Kormor Kirak consider him harmless -- a sad case, perhaps, someone who lost his way and found comfort at the bottom of a cup.

This is precisely what he wants them to believe.

Varga is a werewolf, and he works for Barron Whitehallow's darker purpose. He is the muscle behind operations that require deniability, the agent who carries out tasks that cannot be traced to the Albion Embassy or to anyone in the diplomatic establishment. He was recruited through a promise that cuts to the core of his condition: a cure for his lycanthropy. Barron -- or rather, the forces Barron serves -- promised Varga that when the great working is complete, the curse that has defined his life will be lifted. He will be human again. Whole again. Free to live without the monthly terror of losing himself to the beast.

The promise may be genuine or it may be a lie designed to exploit a desperate man. Varga does not know and has trained himself not to examine the question too carefully. He does what is asked: he killed the previous tax collector, he helped steal the treasury gold, he intimidated those who asked too many questions. He did these things with the efficiency of someone who has accepted that morality is a luxury reserved for people who are not monsters.

His presence in every scene is the detail nobody notices until it is too late. He was at the Bastion Inn when Olivia arrived. He was in the market when Rozito made his deal. He was near the Hallaset Fields on the nights when the dead refused to rest. Always in the background. Always dismissed.

What drives Varga is the desperate hope that he can be made whole. His greatest fear is that the cure will never come, that he has traded his soul for nothing, that the things he has done in service of a promise will define him in the end. His weakness is that this fear makes him dangerous and unpredictable; a man who believes he has nothing left to lose is capable of anything.

Secret

Varga lies when he pretends to be nothing more than a town drunk. The truth is that he is the most dangerous person in any room he enters, operating as the hidden enforcer of a conspiracy that most of the city cannot see. The deeper truth -- the one that might redeem or destroy him -- is that his loyalty is not to the conspiracy but to the cure, and if someone could offer him a genuine alternative, his allegiance might shift in an instant.

Campaign Use

Varga functions as the hidden villain nobody suspects until the reveal recontextualizes every scene he appeared in. His presence should be established early and often, always in the background, always seemingly irrelevant. When the truth emerges, players should experience the shock of recognition -- he was always there. His werewolf nature makes him a formidable combatant, but his real danger lies in what he knows and who he serves. He can be turned if the party offers a credible path to curing his lycanthropy, making him a potential ally whose information could unravel the entire conspiracy.

AGGODAS AND BOLDOGG: THE GATEKEEPERS

The Gatekeepers of Kormor Kirak are supposed to be the city's law enforcement, an autonomous institution that predates the current political arrangements by centuries. In practice, they are corrupt, brutal, and answerable to no one. Aggodas and Boldogg are the senior pair, the ones who set the tone for the entire organization.

Aggodas is tall, lean, and quiet in a way that makes people nervous. She carries a staff topped with a knot of dried herbs that she burns during patrols, the smoke trailing behind her like a second shadow. The herbs are not ceremonial. They are a narcotic compound that enhances her connection to the spirit world, allowing her to sense things that ordinary perception cannot detect. She uses this ability to find contraband, identify shapeshifters, and locate hidden rooms -- but she uses it just as often to extort those who think they are hiding something she cannot see.

Boldogg is broad, loud, and perpetually amused by the suffering of others. He wears the old Gatekeeper armor, a mismatched collection of plates and chain that belongs to an era before the Red Guards existed, and he polishes it with devotion that borders on religious. He can summon minor spirits through rituals involving blood, herbs, and chanting in a language that predates Common. These spirits serve as scouts, intimidation tools, and occasionally weapons. He uses them freely, and the citizens of Kormor Kirak have learned to stay inside when they hear chanting in the alleyways after dark.

Together, Aggodas and Boldogg run protection rackets throughout the city. They shake down merchants, demand tribute from the criminal organizations in Terra Sotto, and maintain a network of informants built on fear rather than loyalty. They are not aligned with any particular faction -- neither Albion nor Terrassia, neither the queen nor the conspiracy. They are an autonomous remnant of the kingdom's earliest days, and they consider themselves above the petty politics of empires.

Their relationship to the party should be adversarial from the start. They demand bribes at the gate. They confiscate weapons they consider inappropriate. They follow the party through the city, watching, noting, filing away information for future use. They are not the main villains, but they are an obstacle that recurs with maddening persistence, a reminder that Kormor Kirak's institutions serve their own interests first.

Secret

Aggodas and Boldogg lie when they present themselves as servants of public order. The truth is that they serve nothing but their own power and the ancient prerogatives of the Gatekeeper institution. Their deeper truth is that they know more about the supernatural activity in Kormor Kirak than they let on -- the spirit-summoning and herbal sight give them access to information that other factions would kill for -- and they have been watching the conspiracy unfold with the calculating patience of predators waiting for the right moment to act.

Campaign Use

The Gatekeepers function as recurring antagonists who are distinct from the main conspiracy. They represent institutional corruption and the self-serving nature of power in a city where every faction is playing its own game. They can be bribed, threatened, or temporarily allied with, but they always act in their own interest first. Their spirit abilities make them useful informants if the party can discover the right pressure points, and their knowledge of the city's supernatural underbelly may provide clues that no other source can offer. They are especially useful as obstacles during time-sensitive missions, when the last thing the party needs is a shakedown at a checkpoint.

SUPPORTING CAST

LORD WOOSTER

Benji Wooster wears his wealth the way others wear skin, a thing so integrated into his being that he seems unable to remember life without it. Chief Accountant at the Counting House, now in his sixties, his hands are manicured with the precision of someone who has never worked a day in his life and has no intention of starting. Eccentric in dress and habit, he greets Barron as an old friend with the kind of warmth that suggests either genuine affection or the consummate skill of a man who has spent decades learning to perform it perfectly. His office overlooks ranks of accountants bent over ledgers, and the walls are decorated with indigenous artifacts from the empire's conquests, objects of genuine beauty that have been stripped from their original contexts and displayed as art.

When Olivia presents her evidence of financial irregularities, Wooster trades a furtive look with Barron that communicates entire conversations in a single glance. He moves with remarkable speed to reassign her, and his delight at getting rid of her is barely concealed beneath a veneer of bureaucratic necessity. Wooster is fundamentally corrupt, a man who has learned that the best way to maintain your position is to ensure that enough powerful people owe you favors that they cannot afford to have you investigated.

Campaign Use

Wooster works as a corrupt official NPC who might be negotiated with, blackmailed, or removed as an obstacle. His financial knowledge makes him valuable as a quest-giver or information source. His connections place him in position to facilitate or hinder large-scale operations. He is most useful when the party needs institutional leverage or when they are trying to follow trails of money. His corruption is casual, old, and comfortable, which makes him less obviously dangerous than more aggressive antagonists but potentially more difficult to dislodge.

FEENEY

Albion's Counsel in Kormor Kirak is a man living in constant panic disguised as professional competence. His hair is perpetually mussed, his eyes maintain the wild look of someone who has glimpsed something beyond the acceptable boundaries of reality. He burns the theater with

Molotov cocktails because he genuinely believes that what is being built there is a nest for things that should not exist. He sets fire to the plans, encodes a message on parchment, and sends it by pigeon toward

Albion, desperate for someone to understand the danger.

The Automatic Assassin catches him in the vault. Two crossbow bolts find him before he can scream, and his body is left suspended in necromantic trellis formation, eighty-eight wounds carved into his flesh to form demonic runes that serve as a portal to other realms. He dies believing he was trying to prevent catastrophe. He dies correctly.

Campaign Use

Feeney is the inciting incident NPC, the death that begins the investigation. His body and the manner of its death provide clues to the necromantic working. His encoded message, if the party finds it, offers crucial information about the theater and the threat it represents. His death also demonstrates that certain forces are willing to eliminate those who understand too much, which raises the stakes considerably. The mystery of why Feeney was killed can drive the early campaign, while the revelation of his correct understanding reshapes the party's entire perspective on the threat.

NERO AND ZAFFIR

The two roughnecks who lead construction crews for the theater are locals who understand the city in ways outsiders cannot comprehend. Nero is vocal and skeptical, quick to identify problems and quicker to voice them. Zaffir works beside him with the quiet competence of someone who has done dangerous labor most of his life and has learned to trust his own judgment implicitly. Together, they are essential to the theater's reconstruction, which gives them leverage they are not entirely certain how to use.

They need protection for night work because nights in Kormor Kirak are not safe for outsiders. The darkness brings things that the city's daylight permits the comfortable to ignore. Nero sniffs the air when

Jack Winbow enters, his survival instincts registering something other, something that triggers ancient warnings in the reptile brain. Zaffir studies the stranger with careful eyes, determining threat level and usefulness simultaneously. These men are not educated, but they are wise in ways that matter.

Campaign Use

Nero and Zaffir function as essential local contacts, quest-givers for construction-related problems, and sources of information about the city's true nature. Their need for protection can drive a series of encounters that reveal the dangers lurking in Kormor Kirak after dark. They know the city in practical detail and can serve as guides, informants, or complications depending on how the party treats them.

THE MAN WITH THE CLOCKWORK ARM

In the attic laboratory of the Terrassian Consulate, someone quiet works with careful precision. The Automatic Assassins are constructed here, maintained here, deployed from here with the precision of someone managing an operation of significant scale. The Man with the Clockwork

Arm is unnamed in official records, which itself is a kind of name. One arm is clockwork prosthetic, similar to but distinct from Koss's, suggesting a shared history or shared craftsmen. His presence is quiet but the scope of his operation suggests someone of considerable importance moving in the shadow of official channels.

He monitors the city through mechanical radar, watches patterns of movement and behavior through systems that most would not recognize as observation. He cleans the Assassins after each kill, maintains them with ritualistic precision, and plans their next deployments with the care of someone playing a game several moves ahead.

Campaign Use

The Man with the Clockwork Arm functions as a mysterious antagonist or potential reluctant ally. His true identity, his allegiance, and his ultimate goals are open questions that can drive investigation. Encounters with his Automatic Assassins can lead to questions about their maker. Contact with him directly might be possible through negotiation or pursuit, and his knowledge of Terrassian operations and Kormor Kirak's hidden infrastructure makes him valuable. He represents the intersection of military technology and assassination, of practical skill and cold calculation.

THE GAWKY MODEL

She is tall and ungainly in the way that makes her striking rather than beautiful, an assemblage of angles and awkwardness that catches the eye precisely because she does not fit the patterns people expect. She works in the dress shops, modeling garments for people too rich to care whether they fit properly. Szeret notices her the way certain people notice certain other people, with the focus of someone recognizing something kindred or beautiful or broken in just the right way. She sleeps in Szeret's castle chamber for a time, and this matters because it suggests that Szeret is capable of connection, of wanting something beyond the surface performances.

She is found dead in Kiraline's private chamber, suspended in necromantic trellis formation, her body transformed into a working and a warning. The manner of her death reveals Kiraline's true nature as clearly as any speech could.

Campaign Use

The Gawky Model is a tragic victim NPC whose death serves as evidence of Kiraline's true capabilities and true cruelty. The discovery of her body is the revelation moment where suspicions crystallize into certainty. Her identity and her connection to Szeret can complicate the emotional landscape of the investigation and can drive personal quests for justice or revenge.

THE CAVALRY COUNT

A late adolescent aristocrat learning to ride, the Cavalry Count is arrogance embodied in fine clothing and expensive horsemanship that is technically sound but morally bankrupt. He tries to beat his horse, applying the crop with the casual cruelty of someone who has never experienced consequences. Jack Winbow stops him, confronts him, and when the Count attempts to assert his social superiority, Jack demonstrates that horsemanship is not about bloodline or money but about understanding the animal beneath you and treating it with respect.

Humiliated in front of onlookers, the Cavalry Count represents the entitled Albion ruling class, the assumption of natural superiority, the belief that wealth and birth grant permission to inflict damage on the world.

Campaign Use

The Cavalry Count functions as a comic relief NPC and as a representative of the systemic problems with Albion's aristocratic structure. He is not a serious threat but he is a useful tool for illustrating class tensions and for showing how systems of privilege protect the incompetent. He can be reformed through humiliation or retained as an obstacle for the party to navigate. His ultimate fate can serve as a commentary on whether systemic change is possible or whether it merely transforms the individuals who benefit from the system.

PART TWO: CONNECTIONS

Who Knows What, and Who Trusts Whom

The imperials live in the new world. My people live in the old. The two have never met. Until now.

NPC RELATIONSHIP MAP

A Quick-Reference Guide to Character Connections

This document maps how all significant characters in The Eternal Court relate to one another. Use this mid-session to understand dynamics, motivations, and leverage points for NPC interaction.

BARRON WHITEHALLOW

The dying ambassador. Secret leader of the Lich Cult and hidden architect of its conspiracy, though no one knows it yet.

OLIVIA FAREN

The investigator. Sent to uncover financial corruption. Unaware she was sent to be a useful distraction.

JACK WINBOW

The lycanthrope warrior. Loyal to those he cares for. Terrified of his own nature.

PRINCESS SZERET VERESZ

The shapeshifter princess. Isolated. Hungry for experience and freedom.

QUEEN KIRALINE VERESZ EROSZAKOS

The vampire queen. Immortal. Sovereign. The primary mastermind of the setting, though not the only hidden power moving beneath her court.

DEVORLEN KOSS

The Terrassian officer. Pragmatic. Observing everything.

VARGA

The town drunk. The hidden enforcer. The werewolf nobody suspects.

ROZITO VALLIKOZO

The market manager. The practitioner of necromancy. The ambitious fixer.

EPPY FLINDER

The innkeeper. The keeper of ancient knowledge. The refugee from a dead civilization.

NERO

The construction foreman. The man with supernatural senses. The practical local.

ZAFFIR

The construction foreman. The quiet competent partner to Nero.

WOOSTER

The chief accountant. The corrupt facilitator. The old friend protecting the conspiracy.

FEENEY (DECEASED)

The murdered accountant. The inciting incident. The man who was correct about the danger.

THE GAWKY MODEL (DECEASED)

The lover. The victim. The evidence of true cruelty.

AMBASSADOR HARKEN

The Albion ambassador's superior. The authority figure in Albion's hierarchy.

GENERAL MARKOS

The Albion military commander. The warrior's warrior.

CAPTAIN ASHFORD

The Queen's Captain of the Guard. Kiraline's trusted military officer.

AGGODAS

The senior Gatekeeper. The warden of the old ways.

BOLDOGG

The senior Gatekeeper. The enforcer of the old institution.

THE ALBION DELEGATION

Genuine Loyalists:

Complicating Loyalties:

Unaware of Conspiracy:

THE TERRASSIAN DELEGATION

Aligned with Terrassian Interests:

Independent Operators:

THE TERRASSIAN COURT

Loyal to Kiraline:

Nominally Loyal, Actually Self-Interested:

Complicating Factor:

THE CONSPIRACY

Core Conspirators (Know Barron's True Plan):

Secondary Conspirators (Partial Knowledge):

Institutional Facilitators (Know Something Is Wrong but Complicit):

Unwitting Facilitators:

THE INDEPENDENT OPERATORS

Koss -- Wild Card Pragmatism:

Eppy -- Preservation of the Old:

The Gatekeepers (Aggodas & Boldogg) -- Autonomous Authority:

Nero and Zaffir -- Local Competence:

BARRON'S LEVERAGE

KIRALINE'S LEVERAGE

WOOSTER'S LEVERAGE

VARGA'S LEVERAGE

ROZITO'S LEVERAGE

THE PARTY'S POTENTIAL LEVERAGE

KOSS'S LEVERAGE

AGGODAS & BOLDOGG'S LEVERAGE

NPC KNOWLEDGE CHEAT SHEET

For When Players Go Off-Script

This document provides instant reference for what each named NPC knows, will reveal, will lie about, and doesn't know. Use this when the party suddenly decides to interrogate, bribe, or magically compel information from someone you weren't expecting to interview.

BARRON WHITEHALLOW

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Barron is trained in resisting interrogation. He will admit to small crimes to establish credibility, then deny larger ones. He speaks with calculated sincerity. Direct confrontation without overwhelming evidence will produce excellent lies rather than confession. Magical compulsion is possible but he has some resistance.

OLIVIA FAREN

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Olivia is honest and logical. She'll answer direct questions truthfully unless she has specific reason to lie. She responds well to presented evidence. Under magical compulsion, she cannot help but tell the complete truth as she understands it.

JACK WINBOW

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Jack is trained to resist interrogation. He won't break easily, and he won't betray those he's sworn to protect without significant cause. He will admit to combat killings without shame. He responds to direct questions with truth unless operational security demands otherwise. Magical compulsion works but he can fight it.

PRINCESS SZERET VERESZ

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Szeret is young and inexperienced. She cannot easily lie and doesn't have extensive training in resistance. She responds well to kindness and terribly to threats. Magical compulsion extracts truth, but she finds the experience painful. She will protect Olivia and Jack even under pressure if she can.

QUEEN KIRALINE VERESZ EROSZAKOS

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Kiraline is an apex predator and will not respond to conventional pressure. Torture amuses her. Threats against her power enrage her. She will admit to actions she's proud of. She cannot be magically compelled without significant magical power. She is best negotiated with rather than interrogated, and she respects strength and intelligence. She will lie when it amuses her to do so.

DEVORLEN KOSS

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Koss is trained to resist interrogation and will reveal only what serves Terrassian interests. He is pragmatic rather than loyal to any specific person. Magical compulsion works but he can resist for a time. He cannot be tortured effectively because he's trained past such responses. He is best approached as a negotiating partner rather than an interrogation subject.

VARGA

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Varga can be turned if offered a genuine alternative cure. He's dangerous and unpredictable because his loyalty is conditional on false hope. Under magical compulsion, he reveals operational details but will resist questions about the cure. Torture hardens him because he's already suffering. Negotiation regarding his lycanthropy is the key to flipping him. He is most dangerous when he believes he has nothing left to lose.

ROZITO VALLIKOZO

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Rozito can be flipped if offered protection or alternative direction. He's performing dark magic partly from fear and partly from genuine magical compulsion (the necromancy has some hold over him). Pressure regarding Kiraline's opinion is effective. Magical compulsion works but he tries to resist. He is most valuable as an informant about necromantic practice itself rather than the conspiracy's structure. Offer him a way out and he might become an ally.

WOOSTER (BENJI)

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Wooster is comfortable in corruption and won't break easily under standard pressure. He believes institutional cover will protect him. Offer immunity and evidence of exposure, and he might flip. Magical compulsion works easily on him. He is most valuable for financial information than operational details. He is cowardly beneath his eccentric exterior.

FEENEY (DECEASED)

Knows (Knew):

Will Reveal (Could Have Revealed):

Lies Told:

Didn't Know:

Current State: Deceased. Body found in vault in necromantic trellis formation with 88 ritual wounds serving as a portal to other realms. Can be questioned via necromancy if magical means are available, though his knowledge is limited to what he knew before death.

Notes: Feeney's encoded message, if discovered, provides crucial information about the theater and the danger it represents.

EPPY FLINDER

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Eppy cannot be effectively interrogated because she doesn't respond to standard pressure. Magical compulsion works because she has no training in resistance. She is best approached as a source of wisdom rather than information extraction. She will refuse to help if doing so threatens the old world or those she's sworn to protect. She is trustworthy within her own framework, but her framework includes loyalties that might not align with the party's.

NERO

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Nero is direct and relatively honest. He responds well to straight questions. He will provide practical information freely if he trusts the questioner. He is most valuable for construction and location details. Magical compulsion works easily on him. He is not trained in resistance.

ZAFFIR

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Zaffir is direct and honest. She responds well to practical questions. She is less vocal than Nero but equally reliable. Magical compulsion works easily. She is most valuable for practical details about construction and logistics.

THE MAN WITH THE CLOCKWORK ARM

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: The Man with the Clockwork Arm is professionally trained in resistance. He will not break under standard torture. Magical compulsion works but he has some resistance. He is most valuable for information about past assassinations and surveillance. He is a dangerous opponent and will use his environment to create escape routes or traps. Direct confrontation is risky.

THE GAWKY MODEL (DECEASED)

Knows (Knew):

Cannot Reveal:

Notes: Her death serves as evidence of Kiraline's true nature and her willingness to use necromancy on those she loves. The discovery of her body is a turning point in the investigation.

AGGODAS

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Aggodas is experienced and dangerous. She cannot be easily intimidated or coerced. Magical compulsion works but she has some resistance. She is most valuable for information about supernatural activity and what her herbal sight has revealed. She is best negotiated with rather than forced. She respects strength and intelligence.

BOLDOGG

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

Interrogation Notes: Boldogg is less sophisticated than Aggodas but equally dangerous. He enjoys suffering and intimidation, which limits traditional pressure's effectiveness. Magical compulsion works. He is most valuable for information about spirit-summoning and what his contacts report. He is best managed through alliance with Aggodas or through practical negotiation.

ISTVAN THE JAILER

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

LADY MIREVA

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

BROTHER ALDRIC

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

TOMAS THE STABLEHAND

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

THE MARKETPLACE BUTCHER

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

MAGISTRATE VORON

Knows:

Will Reveal Freely:

Will Reveal Under Pressure:

Will Lie About:

Doesn't Know:

GALLERY

Art of The People Of The Eternal Court

Olivia Faren

Olivia Faren

She carries a brass calculator the way a religious person might touch a cross.

Barron Whitehallow

Barron Whitehallow

The story's patriarch and moral compass. Sixties, charismatic, kind, and coughing blood into his handkerchiefs.

Jack Winbow

Jack Winbow

Athletic, unkempt, kind eyes, scarred back. Introduced dressed as a stable-hand but carrying a folding spear and a pouch of throwing daggers.

Princess Szeret

Princess Szeret

Dark and menacing in appearance, cheery and delightful in spirit. She finds Olivia's brass calculator more fascinating than any jewel in the castle.

Queen Kiraline

Queen Kiraline

When she enters a room, every person takes a knee. She moves as if weightless, aglow with charisma that does not merely attract attention but commands submission.

General Markos -- The Queen's Blade

General Markos -- The Queen's Blade

Devorlen Koss

Devorlen Koss

The character who tells you what nobody else will. He lost his arm in the war and wears a clockwork prosthetic that clicks and whirs.

Eppy Flinder

Eppy Flinder

Her ancestors ruled the world so long ago that the world forgot they existed.

Rozito Vallikozo -- The Fixer

Rozito Vallikozo -- The Fixer

Ambassador Harken -- The Diplomat

Ambassador Harken -- The Diplomat

Aggodas and Boldogg -- The Gatekeepers

Aggodas and Boldogg -- The Gatekeepers

Captain Ashford -- The Soldier Abroad

Captain Ashford -- The Soldier Abroad

Brother Aldric

Brother Aldric

Lady Mireva

Lady Mireva

Magistrate Voron

Magistrate Voron

Istvan the Jailer

Istvan the Jailer

Tomas the Stablehand

Tomas the Stablehand

EC · BOOK TWO · EDITION 01 · MDCCXCIII
FILED · EC · BOOKTW  ·  FORMAT · A5  ·  STATUS · ACTIVE