A Final Solution

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"A Final Solution"
8 Searing, 121

To His Excellency, The Grand Marshal of all Zaichaer, Glorious Protector of the North and Supreme Leader of the Armed Services:

I am writing this one season to the day after witnessing the most horrific incident of my life. I was in attendance at the intended execution of that vile witch of infamy, Venetia Childs. Though I have spent my entire life in opposition to magic, never before had I witnessed its grim power reach such excesses as it did on that tragic day. All throughout Glade, the Tragic Events of Glade the 8th weighed heavily upon me.

Then, in service to the Foreign Office, I was assigned as attaché to Kalzasi's heir presumptive. During the creature's time in our glorious city, I bore further witness to sorcery as the prince and his entourage blithely wielded what they referred to as a 'gift' without realising the toll it took upon the people around them. During the Rathari incident, I saw Talon on the verge of some terrible precipice and the breadth of what I witnessed further terrified me and fortified my heart toward the noble aims of your glorious State.

I am afraid. Afraid for humankind, and for all sentient life that wields no sway over aether. I believe in our cause and in the superiority of Science over sorcery, but in Talon I saw a weapon of mass destruction the likes of which Zaichaer has not faced in living memory. So I got to thinking about how Zaichaer might acquire a secret weapon of our own to contend with the problem of magic.

I've done a great deal of research, but I believe I've found an answer, and it is for that reason that I write Your Excellency today. I would like to formally request State funding for an expedition into the Warrens to locate and extract specimens of an entity reported to dwell in their depths. The creatures of which I write are an aether-eating parasite that my research suggests exist in a remote region of the Warrens. Harmless to those of us who wield no Craft, these aether-eaters could tear through the magic-using population unabated and devour that which makes them dangerous. If we were able to harness their power for our purposes, it is my belief that we might bring about a final solution to the problem of magic in Ransera.

To accomplish this task, I would assemble a team of adventurers- Men of science and the sword. I would propose my brother, Stefan Dornkirk, assemble and lead the science team who will be charged with the task of safely extracting live specimens of the aether-eaters. As the Warrens are, famously, a ghastly ghoulish place, we will also need a security team composed of experienced soldiers. Because of the unique dangers presented within the Warrens, I would request the use of at least one State Mage from the Order of Reconciliation. I know and trust in the negation power of Air Commander Eitan Angevin, whose presence would be a great advantage to the expedition. I would like the lead the expedition myself, as I've read all available tomes that touch upon the legend of the aether-eaters, and I believe my talents are uniquely suited to this endeavour. Beyond that, I would populate our expedition with researchers and enough foot soldiers to stave off any threats the Warrens might throw at us.

If Your Excellency approves this request, I vow to do my utmost to accomplish this goal and grant unto you the necessary tools to bring about a new era in Ransera: An age free of wretched witchcraft in which all men are equal, and all others know their place as subservient to our triumphant wills. An age of science and reason, wherein normalcy reigns supreme and humankind can take its rightful place as masters over the beasts and chattel of this world.

Your Eternal Servant,

Brenner Stahl Dornkirk
Air Commander of the ZADC

[Paragon]

The tick of the grandfather clock was the only sound that filled her ears. She read through the letter once. She read through the letter again. It was detailed and as informative as it needed to be in her estimate. Though she certainly would not have sent it through simple courier services. Nevertheless, because its content had far reaching implications in the political and geographic spectrum of how things operated in the Northlands, the task of seeing it implemented had fallen to her. So there she sat, in her office, with a crystal clear glass of ice cold water on her desk and her papers in such a pristine order as to make entrenched bureaucrats jealous.

“Ma’am?” The words followed soft knocking on the doors to her office. She glanced up to see her secretary. A sharply dressed woman with equally sharp eyes and attention to detail, she had chosen her over a slew of other candidates when she’d taken over the office. The slight quirking of a brow was her only greeting.

“Commander Dornkirk, to see you, ma’am.” She nodded. With that, her secretary stepped into the hall to usher the commander into her office.

Astrid Kelgarde was widely regarded to be a dangerous woman. She was an enigma amongst her peers, those being the other members of Zaichaer’s elite circle of high ministers. As a diplomat and politician, she was with few equals. It was due largely to her ability that many of Kalzasi’s concessions to acquiesce to Zaichaer’s requests had been achieved, no matter how bitter those concessions had been. In certain circles, there were some who believed that she had the potential to be the next Grand Marshal. Those circles were often silenced quickly and under mysterious circumstances that never could quite be traced to her.

Astrid picked up a second report, this one penned in part by the very young man who was about to enter her office. It was not entirely by him, but it had involved him nevertheless. She opened the file and began reading through the contents for what felt like the one-hundredth time.

---

Ingrid offered a crisp salute to the Air Commander who, by rank, outranked her. She was a sharply dressed brown haired woman in a grey skirt, humble medals decorating her chest, and a tight bun that kept her hair out of her face. Over her left shoulder was a decorative aiguillette in green and white colors marking her as the aide to the First Minister.

“The First Minister will see you.” Ingrid turned on her heel and began walking forward. She stepped up to the door and promptly knocked three times before opening it and ushering the Air Commander inside.

The interior of the Office of the First Minister was decorated with a stunning amount of military accolades and foreign service awards. Behind an elegant writing desk sat the First Minister of Zaichaer. She was quietly reading through some papers as Ingrid led the Air Commander inside. Once Ingrid was exactly three paces away from the First Minister’s desk, she rendered another crisp salute.

“Air Commander Brenner Dornkirk of the Air Defence Corps, First Minister.” Astrid looked up, setting the report in her hands down. She gave a nod of dismissal to Ingrid who promptly departed the office, closing the door softly behind her. Astrid observed the young man in front of her impassively for a moment.

“At ease, Commander. Please be seated.”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"...or I'll be redeployed in the next month, I expect." Brenner completed his thought before taking his first taste of the soup course.

"And we will be proud of you either way, Brynn." Lady Sylana smiled faintly from her side of the table, where Melchior sat scowling at her side.

"Just strikes me as a broad bloody gambit. And for what? The privilege of putting yourself in greater danger?" The Dornkirk Patriarch shook his head, and seemed to take out his frustrations on the dinner roll he was breaking in half to dip into the creamy bisque.

"Let's face it, Father, I'm the spare. I was born to take the risks and, perchance, reap the rewards. As long as Stefan is safe, your legacy-..."

"As long as Stefan remains a bachelor, my legacy- Our legacy remains tenuous at best. What was the point of my life of sacrifice if it wasn't to pave the way for a Dornkirk Dynasty rife with progeny who might lead a simpler life than I had to?" Melchior took a ravenous bite of soup-drenched bread, as if to remind the table that he hadn't grown up dining in fancy environs like these, but fighting over dry crumbs of bread on the streets of the Grungeworks.

"A thousands pardons." The butler's voice drew the attention of those at the table, all of whom appeared surprised at the unusual interruption. "...but there has been a letter."

"And it can't wait until after dinner?" Melchior growled, his vexation clearly approaching fever pitch.

"It is from the Office of the First Minister, sir." And all at the table fell silent for a pregnant moment, with the butler uncomfortably brooking the staring of the three Dornkirks present.

"Well, hand it over, then." Melchior extended his hand toward the butler, who cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"It is... addressed to Master Brenner, sir."

A broad smile spread across the Air Commander's face, and a knowing exchange of glances was cast between mother and son.

"It seems my proposal has been received." Brenner removed his napkin from his lap and tossed it onto the table as he rose to his feet and approached the butler.

"And you presume this is favourable news?" Melchior inquired darkly as Brenner snagged a knife from his place setting and collected the envelope. He slid the knife across the top, serving as a letter opener and slipped out the missive, unfolding it eagerly and perusing its contents.

"Well, whatever the news it seems it will be delivered in person." Brenner explained, "I've been invited to her office."

"Invited or ordered?" Melchior mused.

"Oh, honestly, Melchior- We're in Zaichaer. What's the bloody difference?" Lady Sylana snapped, growing fed up with her husband's negative attitude. "Whatever Brenner's gambit might yield, we shall know it soon enough for good or ill and there's naught to be done about it."

Several days later...

Brenner returned Ingrid's salute, doing his best to hide his nerves as those fateful words were uttered:

"The First Minister will see you."

How much of his life had led him to this precipice? Was he to be granted the keys to the castle or disappeared for overstepping his role? He tugged on the bottom of his coat to straighten out the creases made by the belt that rounded his slender waist, and followed the secretary into the minister's office.

He marched in, without giving in to the temptation of looking about the room at all the glistening souvenirs of a life lived long on the Cursus Honorum. He paused a pace behind Ingrid, when she halted her gait, and saluted.

"Hail Zaichaer!" He barked, eyes straight ahead in a charade of stoicism meant to conceal the racing of his patriotic heart. He remained there, still and silent, until Ingrid was off and the First Minister released him from the formalities.

"Thank you, Your Excellency." He hazarded eye-contact as he stepped forward and perched, straight-backed on the edge of one of the chairs opposite the First Minister's. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. How may I serve?"

[Paragon]

He was the picture of a Zaichaeri Officer in their prime. A lean but strong build. The handsome face of a proud military man who served his country with distinction. He walked with the crisp movements of someone that was utterly devoted to the facade of perfection but Astrid could see the glint in his eyes. She knew that look. She knew it because she had worn it herself many times. The First Minister of Zaichaer sat with a straight back, her head held high and her eyes trained on the man in front of her. She steepled her fingers, studying him sharply for a moment before breaking the silence that stretched between them.

“You offer an interesting predicament, Commander Dornkirk.” Astrid’s voice held the tone of someone posing nothing more than casual conversation.

“On the one hand, General Overmann is curious as to how the second son of House Dornkirk has managed to so advantagenously position himself. Executive Officer of one of the foremost dreadnoughts that our Air Defence Force has to offer? Appointed as the personal escort and ambassador to the Crown Prince of Kalzasi, with the recommendation of the Grand Marshal’s mother no less?” Astrid eyed the young man intently.

“You have access to some of the most advanced schematics of our fleet, your brother provides prototypal machinery for your personal use, your family has had an astronomical rise to affluence and influence. Even High Admiral Overmann has heard of you. Supreme Scholar Henkley has certainly reviewed the material submitted by your brother to the Bureau.” The First Minister quirked her head letting out a breath.

“High Sentinel Hardvyck believes that you need to be thoroughly examined following such close proximity to a figure such as Talon Novalys.” Folding her hands together the First Minister picked up the letter that Brenner had penned. She held it up and glanced over the words that she had read several times already.

“However, the question you pose currently has the most impact with regard to our political affiliations. So, you fall to me.” Astrid has thought long and hard about the justification for ensuring that this matter had fallen into her hands. It had taken several favors and some convincing but she had managed to pull it off, though not without raising some eyebrows. She let that hang in the air for a moment, knowing that Brenner Dornkirk would need a breath or two to process the information being laid out before him.

“This proposal you have made, what is the length of time you expect to be able to retrieve this creature?”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner canted his head to one side at the First Minister's opening line. He wasn't sure whether to smirk or wince at being told he'd presented a 'predicament', and so he did neither. Instead he maintained the stoical mask of indifference he'd learnt from his beloved mother, though it had never been more a façade than it was in this moment. Indifference couldn't be further from what he was feeling. He was exhilarated. He had the rush of a man who'd just made the biggest gamble of his life, because he bloody well had.

It was only a few weeks earlier than Brenner was being interrogated about the bizarre events that unfolded during the Rathari incident that marred the Kalzasern delegation's trip to Zaichaer. From what the First Minister was saying, it sounded as though there were those who still bore concerns about Brenner in the aftermath of that unfortunate proceeding. He understood the worry. He had, after all, been ensorcelled- a violation which haunted him to this day, and had been amongst the primary inspirations for the research that led him to propose his expedition in the first place. An ambition to rid the world of the possibility that anyone else might be violated in the same way ever again.

Alas, despite of all the pros and cons Her Excellency had rattled off about Brenner's rise to prominence, his access to sensitive information, and the concerns some powerful individuals had about him, it seemed the merit of his proposal had trumped all. A smirk threatened to make itself known, twitching at one corner of his mouth as he replied.

"To be very clear, the texts I have perused on the matter are largely theoretical. I'm sure Your Excellency realises that none have successfully collected samples of the specimen, else we'd know about it. However, I've dug through libraries worth of texts, sifted through contradictory accounts and I have a theory that, if these creatures are more than legend- and I believe there are enough independent accounts of their existence to suggest that is the case- and if they survive in the modern age, that they will be located in the Warrens well East of here. If we were to enter the Warrens at the edge of Zaichaeri borders, or better yet beyond them, it would obviously significantly reduce travel time. That is to say, if we were to enter the Warrens nearby, It might take the better part of a year, but if we were to take an airship to an Easterly site, I would venture that it would take between one and three months to ascertain whether the legends are true and, if they are, to acquire specimens for study."

[Paragon]

Astrid considered everything that Brenner was placing before her. She thumbed the letter that had been presented before the inner circle of the Grand Marshal’s advisers.

“The door you are opening with this, Commander…” She eyed Brenner from head to toe, it was the assessment of an individual who was considering whether or not to deem another a threat or not. “...if you go through with it, it is not one that can be easily closed.”

More than that, Astrid would not say. She knew of the Dornkirks. They were an ambitious lot. The patriarch was one of a handful of rags to riches stories that she could think of off the top of her head. She was loosely familiar with some of the information available about the Lady of the Manor as well. Stefan Dornkirk had certainly caught the attention of those in the scholarly community. As for Brenner?

“Be certain of your needs for this mission, Commander.” Astrid retrieved one of the documents that had been prepared prior to this meeting. It contained within it the authority to charter an expedition into the Warrens. She picked up her pen, placed it on the paper, poised and ready to sign. Astrid gave Brenner one last look before signing the document and adding her seal to the papers. She rolled them up and placed them into a case then extended it to Brenner.

“Present this to the office of the Chief Quartermaster of the Riverland Corps. You will be outfitted with supplies. Keep your provisions purposed only to what is absolutely necessary for the expedition. You have until the end of the Ash season. Keep the group small but skilled.” She relinquished the document to Brenner but kept her gaze upon the man firm and steady.

“You will receive no written correspondence. You will receive no aide once you enter the Warrens. If you and your mission are discovered, Zaichaer will declare you a renegade. You and your family will be disavowed. We cannot currently risk open warfare.” She swallowed as she went over the information from the various reports that had been funneled to her both through official channels and personal ones. “Not until we can eliminate the threat of the demigod in Kalzasi.”

“Discuss your intent only with those whom you trust in the strictest confidence, Commander.” Astrid rose from her chair, straightening.

“If you have concerns, express them now. When you leave this office, I do not expect to see you again until you return whether that be as a corpse or as a hero...well...that is up to you.”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

A resolute nod answered the First Minister's warning.

"I understand the dangers- Both the material and those posed to the reputations of myself and the Dornkirk name." Brenner opted to meet the First Minister's candour in kind by being forthright and clear in his response. He understood the not-so-thinly veiled threat, but it was one with which every servant of the State lived. Perhaps not everyone danced so close to the precipice as Brenner, but that was the son he'd been raised to be. His ambition had been forged and fostered by a mother with grand designs and a father with higher sights than he had any right to, given his pedigree. Stefan was already on board with this endeavour, and he knew Lady Sylana would be as well. If Melchior wasn't? Well, his wife could be terribly convincing. If one didn't know any better, one might take her for an enchantress with how deftly she plied her husband toward her whims and wills.

Brenner's eyes widened slightly, as he watched the signing and stamping of his destiny. It was a potent moment, there was no doubt. He had not felt such a swell of pride in his heart ironically since the day the Prince of Kalzasi had channeled some scrying that aggrandised Brenner beyond his wildest ambitions. Although he bore certain doubts about the intent behind the prophesy, his sense of self-importance wanted to believe that he truly had some grand part to play in the future of civilisation. Wishful thinking permitted him to cast aside those doubts for the moment, and recognise that this moment in this room might be the beginning of that grand destiny forecast to him on that moonlight evening at the airfield. If he did not fail and doom his family to ruin, this moment might be chronicled in the histories of the world to come. He could almost envision the portrait of him in profile across the desk from the stoney-faced First Minister, as she approved funding for the quest that would bring about a new epoch for Zaichaer and Ransera entire.

The Air Commander nodded, considering what she said of Talon. It had been Brenner's musing over incidence revolving around Talon that had inspired him to pursue this research to begin with. He'd been trying to come up with some weapon that could vie with as powerful a force as Talon proved to be. And what a feast the prince would be for Zaichaer's new pets, if they were to be successfully recovered.

"That threat is the very reason I believe this expedition to be imperative at this moment in our history. Kalzasi erred in putting their secret weapon on open display before Zaichaer. Your Excellency is most wise to keep this endeavour discreet, lest we invite unnecessary obstacles. I will honour that intention by selecting only the most prudent of patriots to serve on this mission." He said, inclining his head in a slight bow as he accepted the document in its scroll case.

When Astrid rose, Brenner followed suit.

"No, Your Excellency." He said, with a Zaichaeri salute. "I must begin my preparations, but I shan't trouble you with the specifics. I imagine plausible deniability would be preferable to an abundance of detail, so I'll keep the minutiae between my team and the Quartermaster unless you object." Brenner didn't seem the least bit jarred at the notion that he might not return to the Fatherland alive. Salvation or damnation, were his to claim as he recalled from Talon's divinations. But to be a great man, he would need to take great risks as the Grand Marshal had before him.

He remained frozen in salute until he was dismissed from the Office of the First Minister of Zaichaer.

[Paragon]

R E W A R D S

Name: Brenner Dornkirk
XP: 10
Requested Lore:

Let's go with:

Etiquette
Deferring to formality
Humility before social betters

Politics
Taking risky gambits for dynastic advancement
Composing a formal pitch letter
Concealing enthusiasm
Concealing nervousness
Exercising discretion
Earnest, patriotic rhetoric


Note(s): Brenner has been granted permission to pursue his expedition into the Warrens in search of the aether devouring parasite. He has been sworn to the strictest of secrecy. He is authorized to receive the following requisitions:

Rations enough for a group of up to 10 personnel.
He has been authorized up to 15,000 gp to purchase materials for the expedition.
Brenner currently does not possess a Companion NPC. I would recommend perhaps devising one for this expedition and tailor him/her to the mission. Additionally, should you opt to create a Companion NPC for this expedition, they are authorized an additional +30 XP on top of the standard amount granted to the first Companion NPC. Simply link this review upon submission.

He has been given a deadline of returning by the end of Ash season.

In order to best facilitate the progression of this plotline for you, I would request that you ping me with related threads so that I can help it along as necessary.

Let me know if you have questions or concerns!