((note: PCs who are officially part of the resistance can come to this))

At a small meeting in the basement of a local tavern, roughly fifteen men and women were gathered, huddled around a trash-pail fire for the warmth and light.

Mr. Ceres, his field safely obscured by a spell, sat on an upturned crate, looking out over everyone there. The faces looked scared and uneasy; some were angry and some were lost. He sighed, closing his grey eyes for a moment to think about what needed to be said.

"The tragedy on the twentieth is only the beginning of our troubles," he began. "We've received intelligence that all wicks will be deported from the city in the coming month."

He paused to let this sink in.

"Many will already be leaving for the wick festival come Bethas," he continued. "They may return to find they have no home."I've called you all here to discuss Serro's plans for until we can get this legislature overturned. Before I begin, does anyone have anything to say regarding the riot?"

Fion bit her lip, anxiety being fueled by the nervousness of those around her. She shook her head to herself when Ceres asked about the riot. She didn't want to talk about it and in truth she hadn't seen anything before she'd been knocked out. She huddled in on herself, watching Ceres intently.

He'd have a solution, surely.

Ivan had a lot to say about the riot. Dozens were dead, around a hundred more wounded. Ivan was still seeing more every day with post operative complications, mostly infection or simply intense pain. Three quarters of his medicine was gone, his furniture in ruin, and worst of all his drinks cabinet now consisted of a single bottle of Glenfockett Seawhisky, which wasn't exactly light drinking.

He'd recovered much of the damage in compensation pay, but most victims couldn't cover what they'd technically cost him. What was he going to do, pull out their stitches? A lot of returns had come in the form of gifts of trade also, so he wouldn't have to shop for food or boots or fragrance for a long while. Not that he ever shopped for frangrance.

Ivan, however, held his tongue. He intended to keep Alstair's valuable secret, and squeeze it for every drop of leverage it was worth.

He listened quiety.

Khymarah had watched quietly as the man spoke. She'd wanted to come to this, it was important, but she felt so strange when she did, like a sparrow dancing amongst cats. She pulled her black cloak closer around her and tugged the hood so it covered her hair better.



She looked around the small huddle, wondering if she should say anything. Then she spotted a familiar face that made her heart jump. Ivan was here, and looking around further, so was Fion. Furrowing her brow, the galdor wasn't sure which one she should go to. Instead, she stood quietly and waited for one of them to spot her. She mentally chanted it, I'M HERE!

"I see," said Ceres thoughtfully.

He stroked his stubbled chin and considered how to break into this.

"Let me be brief, then," he said. "Serro's arms are open to any who wish to stay within the How, wick or no, for fear of retribution. We border operatives are called upon to maintain safe houses for those in need of shelter. Ivan, I understand you performed admirably on the twentieth." He nodded respectfully to the man. "Unfortunately, this battle is far from over. There will be many more casualties to come if we do not act swiftly."

Lighting his pipe, he gestured around the room with his eyes. "Our goal at the outset is to put on a show for them. There have already been over fifty volunteers from wicks to leave the city, to be captured in the streets. Our intelligence shows that Hanz Morde does not plan to treat them as prisoners, simply escort them beyond the city limits and let them loose; if they receive enough reports of wicks leaving the city, there is a chance that they will become comfortable and complacent, thinking the problem has been alleviated. In the interim, of course, we will be moving the majority of wicks to safe quarters under the city, keeping them out of harm's way."

Sighing, he looked out on the small crowd of people.

"I know many of you have wick friends and family," Ceres said quietly. "Be assured that they will be taken care of. By any means necessary, please prevent them from going out in the open until the danger has passed. If they consent to being housed in the How, send word to my station at any time and we will find a way to get them there."

Ivan was on the lookout for his friends but could tell where Khymarah was roughly without even seeing her - a radius of people experiencing a field turned and fidgeted in the glow of her aura. Ivan thought it might be prudent for Ceres to teach her to conceal her field at some point, for her own safety.

So it was that Ivan was looking distractedly across the room at the cloaked galdor when he was mentioned.



Ivan's attention snapped back to Ceres and he nodded quickly in embarrased recognition. Ivan was uncomfortable under too much scrutiny though and was glad when Ceres swiftly continued.



So that was their plan...it would work in the short term, but seemed to Ivan only a stop-gap solution. He listened on, but let his gaze once again turn to where Khymarah stood.

Looking up with a smile, Khymarah noticed Ivan looking at her, finally! But then Cere's spoke again and she looked at him instead.



She frowned and nodded slowly. How could she help? A brainwave hit her. But she waited for the right moment.



Clearing her throat, the galdor pushed back her hood and raised her hand, speaking in a clear voice.

"Excuse me, Mr Ceres? If needed, I offer my manor for housing. I have at least five unused rooms which could easily house two or three small families comfortably, each. I do not have servants or the such, and I do not receive any house visitors of the galdori kind. And what better place to hide? The galdori wouldn't be looking for wicks in galdori houses." She lowered her hand and stood with her full galdori heritage exposed, looking only at Ceres. Her heart was thumping hard though and her hands were sweating.

Did she even want to leave Piran in the How? He just a boy, he deserved better than a life of hiding.



Fion stood, shoulders back and with none of her usual subservience. She kept her voice polite, though firm.

"What do we do with the children?" She asked, brows furrowing. "You can't keep them cooped up for long, they can't handle it."

Fion imagined Piran sitting about day after day. No more apprenticing as a potter. She wasn't sure she could do that, leave him in a strange place with nothing to do. Perhaps worse would be if they actually did give him something to do...



Fion gave Khymarah her full attention. That wasn't a long-term solution either but she liked it far better than leaving Piran to the How.

((assuming fion spoke first))

Ceres nodded, acknowledging the problem.

"That is for the parents to decide," he said, "though I understand we have several volunteers to take them in. It is easier, with children, as their fields have not yet matured. We expect there will be parts of the city that are safer than others. A young wick, after all, is almost indistinguishable from a galdori child, after a bit of disguising."



"That is gracious of you, Khymarah," said Ceres, sounding relieved for a moment. "If you decide to provide safe haven, your other duties will be alleviated. It would be your full-time job to stay out of the spotlight and not arouse suspicions, and your contact with the party would have to be limited."

Khymarah smiled at the man, this was something she was able to do easily. The gates to her manor were easily locked if needed and the walls weren't the easiest to scale, and if they were Narrel's beak would be sure to deter any intruder.

"I would gladly take this on, sir. I have never attracted the attention of my own kind and I can assure you it is not my intent to start now. I would ask, if it is possible, would any human's be willing to come aboard to help with certain tasks? For example, shopping. I am willing to run any errands that are needed from those living with me, but I will need some extra hands that can come out in public with me." Her eyes fell on Fion and Ivan, then back to Ceres. She hoped she hadn't upset them by offering this. Fion was always so protective and motherly towards her and Ivan..well..he might care?

"I am certain that can be arranged," said Ceres, nodding. "You will need security, after all. Dress them as servants if you can, so as not to arouse suspicion."

Fion raised her voice again, worry a little more obvious this time.

"If we had family in hiding would we be able to visit them?" Fion couldn't afford to go into hiding for many reasons, the many one monetary. "I don't want to leave my son on his own."

There was always Old Rose but even that would take time to organise.

Ivan then spoke up.

"I am happy to act as liaison between the Party and Theraldon Manor, and could help with the aforementioned tasks. I have a good knowledge of security measures and do not play a particularly active role in Party matters, so it would be unlikely that I'd draw attention. Of course only if you and miss Khymarah think it wise."

He turned his head to meet Khymarah's gaze.

"All right, one question at a time," said Ceres kindly, with the air of a school professor. He chuckled. "Fion, if you would be comfortable helping Khymarah out, you and your son should stay with her. We can arrange for someone to look after your shop in your stead. And Ivan, we may require your services more in the coming months, but if you are willing to take on additional duties, I am certain it would be appreciated."

Khymarah frowned for a moment. She wouldn't want to leave her son either. Hopefully, she would be allowed to visit, Khymarah couldn't see why not. She was human, it seemed pretty normal didn't it? Running dresses to the client?



She was smiling gratefully. If she had to choose someone, it would have been him. The idea the doctor would be around made her feel a bit safer. He had more experiance in these things. Finding her voice, she spoke.



"I've got no objections to any of that." She said simply, still looking at Ivan.

Fion nodded.

"Yes, I'd be happy to help her out. There's nothing unusual about a human maid." Fion bit her lip. "What about the Paper Tiger? I don't think I could make the journey every night by foot."

Fion hated to be a burden but she needed to be sure she could make this work before she commited.

"Your job there is important, Fion," said Ceres. "I will make arrangements for you and send word when you move Piran."

Turning to the rest of the room, he nodded again.

"The rest of you are tasked with finding candidates for harbor at the Theraldon Manor," he said. "We shall be referring to it as the 'harbor' for now. It is the largest establishment we have in Vienda, save the How, so make good use of it. Families, anyone with young children. Able individuals who do not wish to leave the city should report to the Station before the dawn - spread the word. Pseudonyms are to be used at all times. If you do not have a code name, you must choose one and leave it with me before this meeting is over. I have an excellent memory."

He smiled slightly, probably alluding to a long-forgotten in-joke that had been swept away by years of struggle and pain. It was a bad habit, he reflected.

Khymarah pulled her hood back up and slipped through the crowd after Ceres spoke, moving towards the doctor and the seamstress. Smiling at Ivan, she nodded.

"Hello doctor." Turning to Fion she reached out and beckoned her over.

"Fion, I am so sorry about all this. I promise he will be completely safe and you can stay for as long as you need. You can use Narrell to get to your work if you like. He is a nice bird and not snappy." The whole situation was nuts. Pausing for a moment she sighed and looked at them both.

"Code name?"

Fion ducked her head, grateful that Ceres was organising it for her.



Fion raised her hand in greeting at Ivan. "Hi."

She was still a little embarassed about the day before, though very glad of having had his ear when she needed it.

"Thank you Khy, I really appreciate you doing this. I'll help out around the house as much I can, Promise." Fion took a breath. "A codename is a name the Resistance uses to refer to you, so most people won't use your real name and have it overheard. Mine is Gamze."

She turned to Ivan, "I don't know yours, do I? I really should, huh?"

These two - he'd never have guessed they'd be in the resistance before he knew them. That was probably a good thing though.

Ivan took Khymarah's other hand, seeing the blistering had almost healed completely. He placed a light kiss on it before Fion arrived.

"So good to see you again, Khymarah."



He nodded in acknowledgement of the greeting, and of what went unspoken.





Ivan turned red. He really should have been expecting this to happen eventually. He never thought he'd be in this type of situation when he'd come up with the code name initially.

"Mines, uh...I'm...the Resistance call me, um.
Manblade. Rex Manblade."

If only the ground would open up.

Fion's eyes widened as her lips came together, wobbling slightly.

"That's v-very n-nice." She managed, the corners of her lips quivering. "Please excuse for one m-moment."

Fion walked a few steps away, ducking behind a convenient door. She took one long and laboured breath before losing it.

"BWAHAHA!" She cried out, throat hurting with laughter. "Man... Blade... Oh my Gods! Oh my Gods! Manblade!"

She laughed softly for a few more moments, wiping a tear from her eye and getting her breath back.

"Manblade, classic." She said to herself.

When she walked back out her face was normal again, though significantly redder.

"What should we call you, Khymarah?" She asked.

The redhead blushed and inclined her head, trying to keep the little bit of adult dignity she should have. Her heart was running like a hard worked kenser.



Khymarah worked on memorizing the word as Fion spoke to Ivan. Looking at him expectantly, she smiled. It would be something dashing, daring, breath taking...



The galdor almost snorted laughter out of her nose. Clamping one hand over her mouth, she turned away from the red faced man for a moment as Fion dissapeared, only to be revealed by faint peals of laughter. It made it so much harder for Khymarah. She had tears in her eyes and her shoulders shook. Taking her hand away slowly and taking deep, settling breaths, she turned back and put a hand softly on Ivan's shoulder.

"I am sorry Ivan, I should not laugh. It seems that is the second time I have been this rude." She cleared her throat.

"Forgive me." She looked up as Fion returned.



Biting her bottom lip thoughtfully, her eyebrows furrowed a little.

"I don't know truthfully. I've never had to make up a name for myself before. I was sort of hoping you two might have some ideas."

"Perhaps you should not be asking Rex Manblade for his creative input," said Ceres, in such a serious manner that a couple of the younger cadets burst out laughing along with Khymarah and Fion.

The older gentleman was busying himself handing out a few leaflets covered in meaningless writing - vouchers for safe passage out of the city, an emergency measure not utilized for some time.

"I hope it will not come to this," he murmured to one cadet, a pale-faced human, barely older than eighteen. "Docking bay seven, remember."

Fion's mouth slammed shut as she held in more laughter.



Fion sobered and turned to Khymarah. "How about Angora? I like that."

Fion looked at the girl in front of Ceres, remembering what it had been like to be so young and scared.

Well that's a moment I wont forget. Ever.

Still it was good to see Fion happy - the only other time he'd seen her smile recently was when he went to get his shirts.



Ivan smirked. A good choice. He wondered if Khymarah was familiar with the special trait of the angora cats that predisposed them to heterochromia.