Old dogs, new tricks. [closed]

[Storm Veritas]

“It’s a hell of a start.” Storm glowered as he stared holes through the greywood and white stone, sun-bleached buildings of the port town. After the fiasco of losing Whitevale, Storm and Shin had made sure to do Tylermande right. They kept themselves largely out of operations, allowed the citizens to feel empowered, and enacted firm, fair rules that the townfolk ostensibly seemed content with.

Of course, your average schlub isn’t exactly going to give one of us lip back, after we cut this town a new asshole four feet wide on our way in.

His teeth gritted around the pipe as he tasted the heat, the sour-sweet flavor of his tobacco. The wash of placidity that tobacco brought him settled his lungs and heart into a certain smoothness that aided his decisions, and settled some of his budding mania.

“I’d like to force the truth from these ungrateful bastards with some combination of lightning, rope, and chrome coated pliers. Bribe our ways to the first name, and disembowel him in town square to send an unmistakable message.”

As furious as Shin had grown, he knew this path was lunacy, and had learned enough of Storm to understand the wizard had something else in mind. He continued walking as he waited, sipping from the leather cask that Veritas believed held water. Storm continued.

“But we can’t, not if we’re going to rally the town back into good graces. More flies with honey, and all that. Besides, I don’t know if we’re dealing with one rogue fool I can string up by the balls, or if we’re dealing with a more sophisticated grift. Maybe we start by looking at the books in a routine spot check, see what we’re dealing with.”

“Sure, I bet there’s a line item loophole someone honestly missed. And Phi is probably waiting in the tavern with open arms and tits out to throw us a surprise party.” Shin smirked at himself as he mocked the initial plan.

The wide eyes of the handsome warrior showed a certain vitriol that caught the attention of his friend. It was rare that Storm would serve as the voice of reason between the two, but perhaps this calm only came because he was spelling out his own plan, and had already navigated the processing of his own wrath.

Be honest, roles reversed, Shinsou could present the best plan in the history of modern politics and you’d second guess it if it didn’t involve you filleting the mole like pork before the Harvest celebration

The electromancer caught himself, careful not to show some unwarranted temper. Shin was right, in that there was virtually no chance that the pock-marked gambler was piping off at the mouth over some legitimate issue.

The wind picked up a bit, sending the sea air over them in a salty staleness, stinging the squinting eyes of the magician. He had stopped, picking at his fingernails as he retorted.

“Relax. It’s about process. Let’s peel this onion one layer at a time, find the rot systematically, and allow the people to see that we’re respecting the democracy established here. Then, when we discover the source of the corruption, you can remind the people here that governance is taken seriously. Hell, you can even break out your Emperor Cutesy-roogi bullshit if you want to.”

A knowing smirk. Nothing got under Vaan Osiris’ skin like the playful mocking of his incredible power. Storm had the luxury of being the only man upon Althanas who could comfortably offer the barb without any fear of retribution.