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Huh, you got a bit passionate there at the end. Well, there are very good reasons you went to such lengths to bury that part of your past.
"Such conviction," the Marchioness says in a hollow voice, the words followed by a long, heavy sigh. "Yes, you've made it rather clear that your cooperation cannot be bought."
And here it comes - you figure. The coercion, the threats, the blackmail. You wonder if she realizes that she could promise Command a few favors - declining House or no, a Dragonblood's consideration is still worth something - and they'd finagle a way to deliver you to her trussed up on a silver platter, with a few million cred shoved up your ass for good measure.
But instead, you're treated to the sound of bitter laughter.
"I suppose I should've known better than to choose how and when to heed the Nomad's answer," she shakes her head - then her expression hardens, eyes regaining clarity. "Wode, the box."
The bodyguard smoothly turns, opens a table drawer behind him, withdraws a small, metallic box and immediately returns to his mistress's side, placing it in her waiting hand.
"I asked the Nomad how I could save my House from ruin," the Marchioness says, rising out of her chair and walking across the room to approach you - the bodyguard following closely. "And it told me to seek an elph named Maia Taris in a place called Barter. But also said to offer her this object."
She stops in front of you and presses her thumb against a bio-lock on the lid. There is a small beep.
"I planned on giving it to you on board my ship, once your cooperation and allegiance was-" she breaks off and frowns, her gaze drifting toward the blue smoke that comes pouring out of the box as the lid opens. "What in the-"
The bodyguard reacts with admirable decisiveness: he steps forward and swats the box out of her hand, sending it flying into the furthest corner of the room, even as he himself interposes himself between it and his principal.
Your own reaction is a lot more subdued - you simply follow the box's arc as the horror sets in. Not because you expect it to explode or unleash some nerve agent. No - it's because in the moment the lid lifted you felt its <span class="mu-i">presence</span> drag across your mind and realized exactly what you're dealing with. And the nature of the threat it poses.
The box hits the wall and clatters to the ground. And a marble comes rolling out of it. Metallic. Glowing. No bigger than an eyeball. Still emitting wisps of blue smoke.
"Where did you get an Annamurian artifact?" you demand, snapping back to the Marchioness. "And how long has it been active?!"
"You know what it is?" the Marchioness tilts her head at you from behind the bodyguard's shoulder and you feel a sudden urge to slap her for asking such a singularly useless question. "It was just dull, gray stone this morning. Nothing like... like this! Is it dangerous?"
"Very."
"Marchioness, we need to evacuate," the bodyguard states immediately.
(cont)
