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Tepet Ejava's supposed to be dead.

The Loom was very clear on this point -- she was fated to be stabbed in the back during her tenure putting down the Western Rebellion. But she's Exalted, and she survived, and now she's here, at the Festival of the Seven Fires, in the center of the Realm.

Everything she does is directly screwing up Fate's plan for Creation. The various gods and underlings have been scurrying around as best they can trying to clean things up, but they can't handle a scene like this.

That's what the Convention is for.

In a small courtyard near the edge of the festival grounds, a disused Gate shimmers into existence...

Elora: Me stands nearby, having arrived about twenty minutes ago. Her short, hazel hair is held back by a brown cloth, though her outfit has been carefully selected to blend in with the crowd; she's leaning against a wall, picking through a small traveller's pack and screwing up her face in concentration as the gate springs to life.

Bishop: The Bishop arrives, looking rather less like himself than usual. His garments and behavior effectively announce that he is a poet and a patrician, though his apparent age indicates that he is not terribly good at either.

• Elora stands up from where she's leaning and straightens up, looking a little artificial in doing so. "Welcome, new assignee. Name, title, and rank, please." She sounds as if she's reading it off a cue card and hasn't rehearsed enough times to keep it from sounding forced.
• Serpent slips through the gate shortly afterward, similarly disguised as a poet-musician. He has silver discs painted on his forehead and cheeks, and a groaning old lute on his back. The long, tattered sleeves of his martial arts robes can be seen trailing out under the hems of his poet's costume.
• Bishop fidgets with his artisan's clothing, then introduces himself. "I am the Bishop of Strife."

Elora: "Hmm, all three with one pronouncement. You're clearly very efficient."

Bishop: "Actually, I just don't have a name anymore, and I probably no longer have a rank."

"That narrows the field a bit."

• Elora nods, and one eye gets a little narrower than the other for a moment. "And you?" she turns to the poet-musician.
• Serpent bites his thumb and raises his eyebrows for a moment before declaring, "Salutations Gisli, humble poet. I have no title."

Serpent: "Was that what you were actually asking?"

• Elora looks at him for a moment. "Uh... huh. Yes. Yes it was." She looks at the two of them carefully. "Is anyone else coming?"

Serpent: "If you prefer, Kkutaan, styled Serpent Ebb, Undersecretary on Unspeakable Matters."

• Elora makes a mental note.
• Bishop makes a textual note.

Serpent: "You are?"

Elora: "Elora. I, uh... thought you'd been briefed." She looks a little uncertain.

Bishop: "Eh, about that briefing..."

Elora: "Yes?" she perks up a little.

• Serpent raises his eyebrows as high as he can. "You're REALLY Elora?! This must be the first time!" He goes so far as to clap his hands as though in delight.

Bishop: "I have not been briefed. I had an appointment that ran long."

• Elora stares for about one moment longer than is really proper in the situation. "Uh... well. Welcome to the Convention Concerning the Pole of Earth. It is now officially your job to try to steer the pissed-off clusterfuck that is the Central Direction." She looks a little more comfortable, once she's started to swear.
• Serpent relaxes when he hears Elora swear, too.

Serpent: "Okay. Point me at the bad guys."

• Serpent brandishes his lute.

Elora: "Alright. Here's the long and short of it." She clears her throat. "Every interaction that Tepet Ejava has with any other person here is a huge shitstain on the face of future history. I want each of you to go around and start mopping those up."

Bishop: "You'd think they'd have just sent someone competent to kill off Ejava."

Elora: "There's a do-not-disturb note on her file. It'd be like shooting your boss' dog because it messed the carpet."

Bishop: "Err. I've been out of the office for a bit, but what's wrong with that, precisely?"

• Serpent looks impatient. Very slowly, he repeats, "Where. Bad. Guys."
• A laughing couple stumbles by, having a half-drunken conversation at the top of their voices.
• Elora looks at the couple and makes a snap decision. "Serpent Ebb, you go out and mingle; figure out where Ejava is and start to make a list of everyone she talks to. Bishop, take the perimeter and find any Essence users that could potentially make this more difficult than it already is." She swallows.

Elora: "I'm going to try to get the read of the room," she says, and starts to walk after the laughing couple, listening carefully to their conversation.

• Bishop shrugs and walks off, delicately snatching a glass of liquor from the hand of the drunken woman!
• Serpent begins to circle a wide space around Ejava, playing bawdy drinking tunes and handing out glasses.

Random Passersby: "Oh, man. Did you see her in there? Standing there in her fancy armor -- at a festival, no less -- and...hey!"

The couple rounds on the Bishop angrily. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

• Bishop takes a sip from the glass. "Having a drink. Enjoying the party."

Random Passersby: "Well, that's my fucking drink, asshole."

Bishop: "You've already had a drink. This one is mine now."

Random Passersby: The male half of the couple steps forward and plants a hand on the Bishop's chest.

• Bishop PUNCHES HIM IN THE EYE

Random Passersby: Serpent can tell pretty quickly as he circles that everybody's talking about the same thing -- Tepet Ejava's rather unexpected return from the wars. She's in the central pavilion, as befits a war hero, and everybody who goes by the buffet table is taking a moment to chat with her, either out of admiration or mockery.

• Elora closes her eyes and counts to five as she listens to the Bishop's unprovoked carnage ensue.
• Bishop 's fist recoils after the collision, leaving the half-inebriated man to stagger a bit more than before, clutching his eye and babbling. The Bishop proceeds to behave as though nothing has happened, slips his arm around the woman's shoulders, and begins the small talk.

Random Passersby: The woman stares in shock at her date and this new guy, and begins screaming.

• Bishop withdraws his arm and melts into the crowd, exchanging hats with no less than twenty-five people as he crosses the room!
• Elora blinks a couple times, before pointing an accusing finger at the sky and whispering, one eye closed, "Look what you did!"
• Elora decides to follow off towards the center of the event, in the direction that Serpent Ebb advanced.
• Serpent ignores the Bishop. Obviously he knows what he's up to. Who is that Ejava is talking to now? He decides to play an old anthem from before the unification of the Blessed Isle, see if she recognizes.
• Serpent approaches the central pavilion. Not so close as to -look- like he's approaching it, but just enough to be in earshot. He takes a swig of beer and allows himself to sing off-key.

Random Passersby: The Bishop manages to wander through a crowd of more or less sozzled folks who find his antics actually pretty amusing, leaving the screaming girl behind.

Bishop: Now clear of that inconvenient happening, the Bishop proceeds to seek out God-Blooded and Dragon-Blooded in the vicinity

Random Passersby: As Serpent and Elora approach the gossamer tent at the center of the festival, they can see a magnificent smorgasbord of goodies, laid out on two tables, forming a circle.

In the center is a single ornate table, at which about a half dozen luminaries are sitting, constantly being approached by various hangers-on.

Sitting stiffly at the table, in an ornate set of black armor with a brilliant rose crest, is a young Dragon-Blooded, exchanging wary courtesies with a red-haired woman in beautiful flame-colored regalia.

Between them sits a doddering gentleman who is instantly recognizable as the Regent and current leader of the Empire, Tepet Fokuf.

Ejava does not seem to notice Serpent's singing; however, the red-haired woman across from her shoots him an odd, irritated glance.

• Bishop smiles pleasantly, circling near the buffet, his poetry notebook in plain sight to create the illusion of him being a performer. Fate twists and knots around the redhead across from Ejava, and the Bishop neatly affixes a spirit of discord to her immediate future.
• Elora ponders carefully the matter of whether to attempt to speak directly with Ejava before deciding against it; upon noticing the red-haired woman, she frowns a little, and summons the Essence to make use of the Efficient Secretary Technique, sending two of the adorable green creatures off to locate the red-haired woman's name and stated reason for attending the party (if any).
• Bishop pauses a moment, producing his pen, and begins to jot crazy, mind-bending symbols in his notebook! Hrm, the abscissa of courtesy confounded by the set of all reactions - the cardinal number being aleph-null ... yes!

Random Passersby: The spider quickly returns, delivering the following information: the woman's name is Mnemnon Delana, and she is here as part of Mnemnon's retinue.

The three Sidereals are close enough at this point to catch the conversation between the women.

• Elora listens intently.
• Bishop just can't keep himself from smiling as Delana commits a catastrophic social blunder!

Random Passersby: Delana smiles, leaning forward to pat the Roseblack's gauntleted hand: "...a skillful military leader like yourself can do much to restore the former glory of the Realm."

"I believe, actually, that there's a colony which recently rose up in revolt that could use a little putting down. Something...Lookstar? Something like that."

"I wouldn't be surprised if your next post was farther east than not . But you didn't hear it from me." Delana winks, clicking her tongue and pointing in a coquettish gesture.

There is a quiet crack as Ejava breaks her wineglass in her armored grip.

Ejava: "I...see."

• Bishop continues jotting notes, quietly approaching Serpent, acting as though consulting with another poet about word choice. He is, however, showing a brief equation to the other Sidereal and asking for a suggestion as to the next target.

Random Passersby: Fokuf drools a bit.

Delana: "Oh, honey, you broke your wineglass. You WILL insist on wearing that armor everywhere. Not that it doesn't become you, but...here, I'll get you another."

• Serpent looks at the equation without understanding, but, playing the part of the poet, he taps his finger on the notebook and makes writing gestures. Leaning his head in, he asks, "What are you -doing?-"

Random Passersby: Delana stands and walks spritedly towards the outside table -- and towards Serpent and the Bishop.

Bishop: "My job, of course. The more people who assume that Ejava takes slight at the tiniest thing, or who find her offensive and intolerable, the fewer will interact." He flips the page. "Look, it's a simple exponential function."

Random Passersby: Ejava turns away from Fokuf and begins whispering rapidly with her aide.

• Bishop hushes up as Delana approaches, and puts the most pleasant of smiles on. Meanwhile, hateful knots of conflict tangle in Ejava's fate.

Serpent: "Um, that one." He points at Fokuf.

Bishop: "...oops."

• Mnemnon Delana blinks as she approaches, glancing as Serpent's outstretched finger.
• Elora ducks underneath a table and quickly applies the trinary sigils of the Realized Gull, emerging dirt-smudged but smiling, with a cloak behind her. As Rotesh Fordera, wandering merchant, she re-emerges and walks quickly to catch up with Delana.
• Bishop lifts his notebook subtly, feigning obscure artistic chatter with Serpent.

Serpent: "Excuse me, miss, we were just commenting on that gentleman's excellent attire. You wouldn't know his tailor by any chance?"

• Mnemnon Delana sniffs. "I doubt a ragbag like you could afford to be fitted by the man who serves the Regent."

Mnemnon Delana: "That was an...interesting choice of tunes just there, minstrel."

• Bishop turns to Serpent. "Ah, yes. You know, I hadn't heard that song before." He glances to Delana. "One you recognized, though, I take it? I should dearly love to hear more."

Serpent: "I fancy myself something of a composer, thank you."

Mnemnon Delana: The discussion at the table becomes abruptly heated, the two hissing back and forth at each other, until her aide nearly leaps to his feet, bowing in a semblance of politeness, and hurries from the room.

Mnemnon Delana: Alone, Ejava even more stiffly picks at her food, making distracted small talk with the admirers who approach her.

• Serpent idly plucks out random notes on his lute, allowing them to settle in elegantly accidental patterns. He muses on Perfection in Life.
• Bishop points at Ejava subtly. "You know, she seems to be in the worst of moods today." Red strands tangle around Regent Fokuf, though! Shortly, it is nearly certain that he shall be telling Ejava to 'Fokuf'.
• Mnemnon Delana glances critically at the two erstwhile artists, eyebrow raises, then turns to pour a glass of wine.
• Elora sidles up behind and to one side of the dynast, and clears her throat. "Excuse me, ma'am."
• Mnemnon Delana continues to pour, giving no indication of having heard. Just as Elora thinks she might in fact have missed her approach, she turns her head, raising one elegant eyebrow.

Mnemnon Delana: "Yes?"

Mnemnon Delana: Fokuf continues to sit, swaying slightly. An imperial servant approaches and unobtrustively brushes the drool away before it stains his regalia.

Elora: "Ah, uh, yes, Rotesh Fordera at your service, ma'am. I was hoping to discuss some matters with you."

• Mnemnon Delana flicks her eyebrow even higher, giving a tiny inquiring nod.
• Bishop maintains his almost-giddy smile, quietly knotting fate around the next Dynast in line at the buffet. Soon they'll chat with Ejava
• Bishop adjusts his headband and hat slightly, affecting the most fashionable appearance possible! Also hiding that pesky red glow.
• Elora nods a little overly politely, grinning. "Ah yes, ah... yes. You see, I believe I may have information that will prove useful to you..."

Mnemnon Delana: "Oh yes?" she asks neutrally.

• Elora inclines her head towards a less fully occupied portion of the room. "Would you care to walk briefly yonder?"
• Mnemnon Delana regards Elora with an quizzical gaze, then shrugs, smiling a bit. "All right, why not? Anything for a laugh."

Mnemnon Delana: Ejava's latest conversation leaves her blinking a little, surprised. After a moment, she turns to mutter a few polite words to the Regent, who seems to respond in kind...

• Elora leads the way over towards the empty spot in the room and turns back, to whisper conspiratorially, still grinning. "You see, I have had some... dealings with the Roseblack, in my recent journeys of trade throughout the West."
• Mnemnon Delana smiles grandly. "And?"
• Bishop checks his math again, and grins.

Elora: "I happened to notice that your most recent conversation with her did not go... entirely smoothly." She smiles even a little more than before.

Mnemnon Delana: "Oh, it went about as well as could be expected, considering."

• Mnemnon Delana regards Elora carefully.

Mnemnon Delana: "Are you suggesting you could have done...better?"

Elora: "Perhaps... if I were you, at least. A more... impressive figure than myself, to say the least." Every possible double meaning of the statement is fully intentional.

Mnemnon Delana: The Regent's words leave Ejava staring at him with a look in her eyes that is most definitely not the appropriate respect of a subject to a lord. A few Dragon-Blooded who were approaching the table halt in their tracks and quietly sidle away.

• Mnemnon Delana narrows her eyes, taking in and evaluating all the implications of that statement.
• Elora grins.

Mnemnon Delana: Ejava puts her fork carefully on her plate and stands up to leave.

• Bishop moves slowly away from Serpent, taking a winding, drunken path to intercept Ejava before she can get to an exit.
• Mnemnon Delana glances over at her, then back at Elora, and comes to a rapid decision. Idly flicking her hair back, she removes a hairpin and hands it to Elora, dropping it just before she gets it and forcing her to scramble for it.

Mnemnon Delana: "Come to the Jade Tower, three manses down from the Imperial Manse. Show this to the guards."

• Elora comically drops down to grab it.

Elora: and nods.

Mnemnon Delana: "You can," she leans in, her lips brushing Elora's ear, "sit down with me and tell me...all about your...dealings...with the Roseblack."

"Wear something red."

• Mnemnon Delana bursts past her, managing to make it look like a chance encounter, and bubbles her way towards Ejava as she heads out.

Mnemnon Delana: Ejava seems rather distracted and doesn't notice the Bishop as he heads towards her.

Bishop: Perfect! He crosses her path, drunkenly reciting a poem describing how fantastic a commander she is. Unfortunately, it's rather a horrible poem, in spite of the quality of recitation. The Bishop pauses, bowing sloppily, drunkenly, for the Dragon-Blooded, and slurs his words. "Mmmmmlady! Leaving ush sho shoon?"

• Mnemnon Delana flicks her eyes towards him, and attempts a polite smile, which fails. "Indeed. I have...never been one for extended social gatherings."
• Bishop continues to slur, but lessens it to a subtle drunkenness. "Me neither! You know, when I wash in the legions, we didn't have theshe partiesh with buffets and poetry. We just had drinksh!"

Mnemnon Delana: "...yes."

Tepet Ejava: "If you will excuse me..."

Bishop: "Hey, I've got an idea! This party sucks anyway, why don't we go have a few drinks somewhere else? Just a couple of old soldiers, eh?"

• Serpent continues wandering around the party, carousing and offering people drink after drink.
• Tepet Ejava locks eyes with the Bishop. "Do you know, when I joined the Legion...no, never mind," she shakes her head. "Perhaps another time."

Tepet Ejava: Serpent's engaging ways and Charming smile have everybody in a good (and soused) mood rather rapidly.

Bishop: "Are you sure? I bet you've got some great stories to tell." He grins, giving the Roseblack a jovial little nudge. "There's no time like the present, you know."

• Tepet Ejava seems distracted, as the Bishop's elbow clanks off her armor. "You must forgive me. I have...much to do." She begins to walk past him.

Bishop: "Oh, like what? You were supposed to die on your last assignment. There's nothing left now. What are you going to do, crush the Realm?"

• Tepet Ejava stops stock-still, but doesn't turn.
• Serpent involves the drunk people in a shambling and disorderly game of "hide the rabbit".
• Bishop walks a slow semicircle to come back into Ejava's view. "Well? You had a rough night. You have no upcoming assignment. What could you possibly have to do?"
• Tepet Ejava stares directly into the Bishop's eyes, and whispers. "I don't know who you are. But you'd better get out of my way."
• Bishop shrugs unassumingly. "Or what, hm? You need to take a little time off. Relax. Now, why don't we avoid all the trouble, and just go have that drink?"
• Serpent carefully drifts by Bishop and put an arm around his shoulder. He manages to sing a few lines of a drinking song before someone pulls Serpent away.
• Tepet Ejava clenches a fist, with an ominous clanking sound, but her expression softens as Serpent Ebb approaches.

Tepet Ejava: "I have to go, sir. I have much to prepare for."

Bishop: As Serpent drifts off, the Bishop locks eyes with Ejava. "There is nothing good that you have to prepare for."

• Tepet Ejava? steps forward, carefully shouldering her way past the Bishop.
• Bishop grabs the collar of her armor as she passes.
• Bishop lowers his voice to a whisper, only for Ejava. "I am trying to be polite. It's quite a strain."
• Tepet Ejava flickers suddenly, slipping past the Bishop's hand, eyeing him warily, but proceeds on past, ignoring his words.
• Bishop has no patience for this! He takes one step forward, then launches a powerful kick, planting his foot on her upper back to shove her to the ground.

Elora: From the far side of the central area, Elora notices that it (apparently) has come to violence and, with a sigh, begins to run over towards the fighting.

• Tepet Ejava slips forward, but not quickly enough, and goes to the ground with a clatter. Furiously, she spins, coming to her feet and drawing her sword in one motion.

Tepet Ejava: The drunken courtiers, duelists and warriors look up in shock at the madman who's just assaulted a war hero.

• Bishop tilts his head. "Next time, I'll just skip the small talk." He winks, dropping his resplendent destiny, and breaks into a full sprint!
• Serpent sighs, and remarks as he notices Elora running over, "Who IS this guy?"
• Elora runs up and nods to Ejava. "Oh, I'm so dreadfully sorry this has happened, ma'am." She offers a glass of water she picked up on the way in. "Everyone, clear room, leave the general alone!" She waves her hands about frantically, attempting to appear as official and important as possible.

Tepet Ejava:Everybody blinks in incredulity as they stop thinking the Bishop is a poet and start thinking he's a totally random stranger, not having a lot of reference as tp what such a reaction might mean.

Elora's rapid intervention combined with everybody being softened up with Perfection in Life (and alcohol!) manages to avert the oncoming brawl. The drunkards grumble and begin to pick themselves up and head home.

• Tepet Ejava looks at Elora indecipherably, then sheathes her sword and turns, parade-rest straight, to walk away. She does not take the water.

Elora: "You forgot your water!"

Tepet Ejava: The Bishop, meanwhile, escapes the pavilion. Before him, an angry couple is gesticulating in conversation with an Imperial guard, resplendent in jade. The man is holding his eye. They notice him...

• Bishop conveniently no longer appears to be the poet who punched the man!
• Bishop does make an attempt at nonchalantly slipping off into the night, though.

Tepet Ejava: They stare at him, but shake their heads and turn back to the guard.

• Tepet Ejava ignores her as she leaves.