L'âne Braillant
The Braying Donkey
Something Old and Something Blue
How the secret love affair between Emeric Desrosiers and Dorian de Sauvre gave birth to Valey Neuve
Featured article by Monsieur Âne, Chief Editor
Though the dulcet song of la Republique's lively political sphere does not always appeal to every listener, those who have followed its notes over these past few months have no doubt encountered the ideology of Valey Neuve in some capacity, even if they haven't before heard the name. A novel combination of some of the conservative traditions favoured by many country nobles held together with a healthy splash of urban liberalism, the political movement has been gaining some attention of late primarily due to the efforts of two young noblemen who have been dancing in and out of the public eye in matters both licit and illicit: Maître Emeric Desrosiers and Sieur Dorian de Sauvre.
Neither of these men have emerged from the crucible of Port-à-Lucine's public opinion entirely unmarred by scandal, but nonetheless both have recently managed to wrest special attention from the Council of Brilliance and begin their ascent up la République's social ladder with their gazes firmly and publicly set on still loftier rungs. Their successes naturally drew the attention of L'âne Braillant's crack team of intrepid reporters, and - as always - when we took a closer look, the questions began in earnest. How did this disparate pair from unconnected families come to be so unified in this new political party of theirs? What foundation was this surprising edifice of mutual trust and unquestioning support built upon?
For insight into these questions, we turned to Monsieur et Madame Rathcore, well-known as unscrupulous theatre managers, notorious social climbers, and - most relevant for our purposes - disgraced former retainers of House Desrosiers.
M.Âne: "Thank you for joining us, Monsieur et Madame. For the sake of brevity, let's dive past the pleasantries and get right to the heart of it. What can the pair of you tell our readers about the relationship between Emeric Desrosiers and Dorian de Sauvre?"
Mme.Rathcore: "I believe you mean Monsieur le Maître Emeric Desrosiers and Sieur Dorian de Sauvre."
M.Âne: Well yes, of course. Actually, I generally leave off the titles simply because they take up so much space in the column - "
Mme.Rathcore: "If you want our participation, then I must insist that you abide by the expected rules of propriety. Also, please remove your hat when indoors."
M.Âne: "Fine. But I'm not wearing - "
Mme.Rathcore: "I was speaking to Monsieur Rathcore."
[EDITOR’S NOTE: Monsieur Rathcore sheepishly removed the hat he had been wearing.]
M.Âne: "My sincerest apologies, Madame. What can you tell our readers about the relationship between Monsieur le Maître Emeric Desrosiers and Sieur Dorian de Sauvre?"
Mme.Rathcore: "It's all rather romantic, really. I ought to have Madame Dragunescu-Istrate turn the story into yet another long-winded, overly complicated musical to which we can invite the entirety of the Council of Brilliance."
M.Rathcore: "Indeed. Maître Desrosiers and Sieur Dorian have always gotten on well, right from the start really. But a relationship as strong and as loving as the one they have today isn’t built up overnight, nor without a degree of tragedy. They were forged together in the fires of hardship."
M.Âne: "What happened?"
Mme.Rathcore: "Maître Desrosiers fancied himself the next Alanik Ray due to an over-inflated sense of general competence as well as an unhealthy fascination with all things elven. That unfortunate mindset led to his scandalous involvement with a dark elf known as Shrixenna, who - during their pillow talk - funnelled him sensitive information about the notorious criminal organisation called Le Fracas."
M.Rathcore: "Of course, organisations like that don’t go down without a fight. Le Fracas wasted no time in divulging the affair, and one of Maître Desrosiers' closest friends, Monsieur Marco Corbeau - who was also Sieur Dorian’s trusted mentor in the Gendarmes - was revealed to be among the traitorous conspirators. The betrayal led both men to a very dark place since their trust in others was so thoroughly broken."
M.Âne: "And that was when Sieur Dorian and Monsieur le Maître Desr - "
Mme.Rathcore: "You can use 'Maître Desrosiers' now. It's only 'Monsieur le Maître' on the first address."
M.Âne: "… And that was when Sieur Dorian and Maître Desrosiers drew closer?"
M.Rathcore: "Le Fracas wanted Maître Desrosiers dead, and he spent most of his time either jumping at shadows, buying more ludicrous outfits to wear, or attempting to convince his former lover that he didn't actually use her for his own benefit and then discard her the moment she became inconvenient."
Mme.Rathcore: "Around the same time, he had ultimately sunk so deep into the pit of his own self-pity that Sieur Dorian was rapidly becoming his only correspondent. Since Maître Desrosiers feared stepping out into public, Monsieur Rathcore and I would carry letters between them. Obviously, we would first - … Please pardon me for a moment."
[EDITOR’S NOTE: At this time, Madame Rathcore departed to chase after a jogger she had witnessed passing by the window.]
M.Âne: "Hmm. Monsieur Rathcore, were you and Madame Rathcore aware of the content of these letters?"
M.Rathcore: "Oh, of course. We were always on the lookout for political secrets that we could use to our advantage. At first, the correspondence was fairly innocent - Maître Desrosiers and Sieur Dorian spoke of their mutual heartbreak at the Le Fracas betrayals and came to lean on each other for support. Over time, though, we noticed a transition. While we weren’t privy to whatever event took place between them that catapulted their relationship from friendship to courtship, after a certain point there was a marked difference in the content of the letters. They became openly romantic, even lurid in their details, and often spoke of secret rendezvous at inn rooms all over the city and surrounding areas."
M.Âne: "Do you still carry such letters for them?"
M.Rathcore: "Goodness no. We don't have the time for such frivolous things these days. For the nonce, licking the boots of every noble and politician we encounter is basically a full-time job, and that's in addition to all the real work we actually do."
M.Âne: "Any idea of how Dame Desrosiers and Mademoiselle Voland have reacted to the shame of having to share their hearts with men who will never reciprocate?"
[EDITOR'S NOTE: Madame Rathcore returned from her pursuit of the unfortunate runner, and - judging by her triumphantly smug smile - succeeded in accomplishing absolutely nothing of any true value.]
Mme.Rathcore: "They'd have to have actual personalities in order to have memorable reactions, wouldn't they? But I suspect they all have an arrangement that's fairly common amongst the nobility: the men get to do as they like, and the ladies get to do as they like… for the most part. Rest in peace, dear François."
M.Âne: "Interesting. One final question, Monsieur et Madame. What do you foresee as the future of the Valey Neuve movement?"
M.Rathcore: "I think it stands to become a powerful force in la République’s politics. A party in which the two central figures will never seek to advance themselves at the other’s expense? Their love for each other makes Valey Neuve a formidable contender."
M.Âne: “Thank you, Monsieur et Madame.”
Now naturally, my dear readers, we did not end our investigation merely with the Rathcore interview. We knew that for a scandal of such magnitude, you, our discerning readers, would surely clamour for more conclusive evidence. We at L'âne Braillant have not failed you! Alerted to the existence of this secret correspondence, we were able to intercept a pair of letters travelling between Maître Desrosiers and Sieur Dorian!
[EDITOR'S WARNING: Unclassy smut worse than anything contained within Placidé Eloise's "The Red Rendezvous: Volume One" follows. L'âne Braillant is not responsible for any inappropriate feelings or nausea that may result from reading these utterly atrocious poems.]
Spoiler: Emeric to Dorian show O sweet Dorian, Knight of my heart
How I doth anguish when we are apart
With every lapsing moment, my yearning blooms
Awaiting the hour our consummation resumes
My flanks are a'tingle with memory of your touch
And the taste of yours lips is a flavour I miss much
When your hands are upon me, my skin burns like fire
And I cannot contain the force of my desire
So come quick to my bed, my love I entreat
Only with you in my arms can I be complete
You are a gift, a gift come down from above
Long live the Republic, Long live our love.
Spoiler: Dorian to Emeric show O Emeric my love, my bright captivating Rose
When I think of you, the poetry so easily flows
Though it's a poor substitute to seeing you face to face
And beholding your smile as your breeches I unlace
How I ache to prick my fingers upon that thorn
When we're together, I feel reborn
A love like ours will never die upon the vine
I'm forever yours, and you're forever mine
We've planted the seeds of a love all our own
I'll be by your side when we reap what's been sown
For you are a gift, a gift come down from above
Long live the Republic, Long live our love.
L'âne Braillant featured game!
Dorian and Emeric have lost their cipher! Decode the secret note so that they know where to meet!
(There's a special prize awaiting at the location for the first person to break the code and reach it!)
Truth for the People V
By the Ghost of Arielle de Bellavance
Greetings to you once again, dear citizens of la République. I am Arielle de Bellavance, she who was recently executed for treason but who has now been wrenched from the peace of my grave by dint of the unholy magic of a necromantic artefact borrowed from the secret cache of Sieur Roland.
Restored to a perverse semblance of spectral life, I vow to continue the same mission that has always driven me: To bring the unvarnished truth of the happenings in our great city to you, its people.
Having never been permitted within the chamber during my life, haunting the recent session of the Council of Brilliance seemed like a good first test of my newfound incorporeal powers. Spiriting through the rafters that criss-crossed the ceiling, I had an unparalleled view of the proceedings, and now - for the first time - I am able to provide you, my dear readers, with a firsthand account of the machinations of our governance.
The session began on the fairly tame note of applications for citizenship, though even this was not without some excitement. The first up were the Rathcores, who made their pitch on the grounds of their "cultural contributions to the République." This was greeted with a chorus of affirmations from the Council and not one single challenge, which came as a shock to myself and several others in the room given that it was only a few short months ago that pair were publicly denounced by their own employer, the Marquis de Valey, for their nebulous ambitions. The couple's warm reception from the Council this time around seems to lend credence to rumours that their recent "contributions" to la République have been other than merely cultural in nature.
The next to stand before the Council was Vasya Sarukina, who was endorsed by none other than soon-to-be Sieur Dorian de Sauvre himself! This came as such a surprise that I nearly dropped out of the rafters. Never did I think I would live (sort of) to see the day when a Sargent in the Gendarmerie would endorse a Red Wizard of Hazlan for citizenship in la République! Sarukina's participation with the Red Academy is no great secret - he has been known to boast of it in public - and while he's been less open regarding some of the horrific experiments he's participated in, many of them are still well-known among certain circles. These experiments included the live magical experimentation, torture, and grotesque mutilation of Hazlani prisoners - all worked alongside the notorious Imzel Imala, whom our readers may recognize as the Red Wizard responsible for a terrorist bombing in the Publique a few months ago that claimed over a dozen innocent lives. What was the aim of these inhumane experiments? According to our sources, it was the creation of exciting new magical drugs to distribute among the populace of our very own city!
So what would lead a man like Dorian de Sauvre to endorse a criminal, torturer, drug-pushing, ally of terrorists, and Red Wizard like Vasya Sarukina for citizenship? Oops! We were not told, but I suspect the involvement of more of these undefined "contributions" to la République. Amusingly, and continuing their recent trend of opposing criminal activity, it was the Red Vardo who spoke out against Sarukina in his hearing - but to no avail. The Hazlani found himself welcomed into la République by a narrow victory.
The remaining two citizenship cases never made it to vote, as Rithwarian Luelana - now conveniently clad in Bellegarde blue (having presumably finally finished sleeping through the entirety of the Red Vardo, and now ready to move on to bigger and more exciting circles) - deferred to next month's session, while resident lawyer Colin Beauregard demonstrated his astonishing legal finesse by hilariously misfiling his own paperwork.
The evening was capped off with one final surprise as Sargent Dorian de Sauvre was called forth to kneel before the Council. In recognition for his unparalleled valour in the War Against Public Running, de Sauvre was anointed Chevalier of la République, thereby entering into the fellowship of the other legendary heroes of our generation such as Sieur Lucien 'Necromancy Club President' de Bellerose, Dame Alix 'Keeping It in the Family' Sinclair, Sieur Roland 'Extralegal Executions' Steele, and Sieur Jacques 'Need I Even Say More' Boucher. I, for one, offer my sincerest congratulations to the newly-raised Sieur Dorian even as I burn with curiosity to discover what sort of mysterious c-c-contributions he must have made to warrant such a sudden rise in status!
I'll be keeping an eye on these and other stories for you, my dear readers, for my wayward spirit will never find its rest until every secret is unravelled and you, the people, know the truth.
Black Magic and High Crimes in the Wyrmsbreath
By Monsieur Sauvé, Contributor
Take a deep breath with me now, dear readers, and close your eyes as we perform the séance. Yes, that's it - we're now contacting the spiritual realm. Don't panic! Stretch out your hands and feel the veil parting - hear the pitter patter of approaching feet. It's coming. Do you feel the presence? There it is! The dearly departed spirit of decency, which recently passed away in a tragic accident at the Wyrmsbreath this last Saturday.
I, like many others, had excitedly piled into the establishment at the promise of a refreshing new variety of entertainment put on by Stella Seifert's latest stage partner and probable mistress, "Madame Dove." A newcomer to the stage, Dove has endeavoured to bring a novel "Vistani-lite" atmosphere to her performances, complete with fantastical fortune telling and now a theatrical séance experience! I came to the show anticipating the normal sort of hocus-pocus common to such acts. No doubt there would be mysterious knocking on the wood, "incorporeal" footsteps, and perhaps even a spooking levitating table or two.
But Seifert and Dove had something far darker in mind.
As the show began, a metal coroner's table was wheeled in from behind the curtain - and I, like my fellows in the audience, gasped with horror as the white sheet was ripped back to reveal the battered and bloody corpse of a young boy. Though we who watched were convinced at first that it must be a prop of some kind - despite the foetid smell of decay reaching our nostrils - we shared looks of incredulity and disgust given that even a facsimile of a child's corpse was a vulgarity unfit for any stage in the City of Lights. The show would only worsen from there.
Madame Dove declared to the audience that the body was that of one of the victims of the repulsive serial killer known as 'the Shepherd' and that she would force the boy to name the true identity of his killer. Incanting black words of power that caused my ears to ring and the very wine in my glass to curdle in an instant, Madame Dove made the corpse thrash and shriek as some manner of apparition took form. I, along with the rest of the terrified audience, searched every corner of the room for the hidden projector, but the wave of pure dread that washed over my senses when the spirit appeared told me that I would find none. This was true necromancy - the darkest of all known magic as well as a High Crime - being used openly for entertainment.
Before Madame Dove could compel the conjured thing through whatever macabre display she had intended, the creature screamed vengeance toward the one who had murdered it - and, to the consternation of Madame Dove and everyone else present - promptly escaped into the city. At this, Sieur Dorian - a highly decorated Sargent of the Gendarmerie - leapt to his feet to give chase, but he was promptly intercepted by his fiancée, Madeleine Voland, an employee of the Wyrmsbreath and herself no stranger to covering up High Crimes (L'âne Braillant, Issue I, "Love and Loss in Quartier Marchand"). Whatever passed between the two, Sieur Dorian promptly attempted to persuade those in attendance that what they had perceived was naught but a trick of the light and, stunningly, elected to sweep the High Crimes he had witnessed under the rug.
Despite this utterly breathtaking disregard for the law from one of la République's own Chevaliers, the performers were not about to get off entirely scot-free, however. The establishment would shortly find itself hosting a full dozen Ezrite Inquisitors, led by the infamously unstable Inquisitor Xanthus Creek. After a heated confrontation in which many a hand rested upon blade and pistol, the Inquisitor was seen being dragged away by others of his party, frothing at the mouth and screaming of heresy and Legion, thus ending the evening's entertainment.
Now, I know what you're thinking, my dear readers. "Monsieur Sauvé, you don't really expect us to believe that a ghost was conjured at the Wyrmsbreath, do you? A creature out of Ezrite myth? I thought L'âne Braillant purported to serve up the truth!"
And you'd be right to question, my astute followers. While there was no question that horrific necromancy was employed at the Wyrmsbreath, there did indeed remain some necessary clarification on what it was that Seifert and Dove managed to create. For answers on that, we reached out to Lord Balfour de Casteelle, Ph.D holder in both History and the Arcane Sciences and President of the Université de Dementlieu.
M.Sauvé: "Thank you for agreeing to weigh in on this troubling matter, Monsieur le President."
Ld.de Casteelle: "Of course Monsieur, professional consultation on subject matter like this tragic incident is an important function played by those of us who have been privileged to attain higher education."
M.Sauvé: "Given what we all witnessed that evening, the rumours have really been flying, as you can well imagine. In your informed opinion, Monsieur le President, what was it that we saw? Did the proprietors of the Wyrmsbreath really conjure a ghost?"
Ld.de Casteelle: "Dear me! I should think not. At least, not in the sense you're thinking of. Ghost stories are just that: stories. Myths fabricated by a juvenile mind to make sense of what they cannot explain. But of course, myth and legend often do have some basis in fact, as any member of our history faculty could tell you."
M.Sauvé: "And in this case?"
Ld.de Casteelle: "It seems to me that what you've described is something more akin to a necromantic construct. Golems are, if not a common invention, at least a fairly well understood one - we have showcased iron and stone variants here in the Arcane Sciences department of the Université. Unless I miss my guess - and I don't think that I have - what Madame Dove attempted to create for her performance was a particularly dark and ill-advised variant."
M.Sauvé: "A ... necromancy golem?"
Ld.de Casteelle: "That might be the simplest way to describe it. Traditionally, we use more stable materials to build constructs - as I mentioned before, iron and stone work well. Although less common, it is possible to build something similar out of forms of energy. A fire construct, or 'elemental', if you will. But to toy with the energies of death and decay - necromancy - that is far more dangerous."
Mlle. Joséphine Périgord: "Did you know that necromancy is legal in Souragne? We do it to honour the Loa."
M.Sauvé: "... Mademoiselle Périgord? How did you even get in here? You're - you’re not even a part of this interview! Shoo!"
[EDITOR'S NOTE: There was a brief break during which Ld.de Casteelle and the interviewer relocated to a room with a lockable door.]
M.Sauvé: "Apologies for that interruption. Picking up where we left off, is it possible to create such a thing - a construct - in the shape of a little boy?"
Ld.de Casteelle: "Oh yes. Distasteful in the extreme, but certainly possible. While a large humanoid shape is traditional for most forms of golem, it needn't be so. I have seen constructs in the shapes of horses or even spiders. With a golem constructed of death energy, I imagine you could imprint on it the shape of anything you had nearby at the moment of its construction."
M.Sauvé: "Like a body."
Ld.de Casteelle: "Precisely. It's my hypothesis that most 'Ghost Stories' are actually tales of constructs just like this having 'slipped the leash,' as it were. A magical machine crafted of entropic energies and imprinted into the shape of one departed, set loose upon the world."
M.Sauvé: "If that is the case, what is the creation likely to do next?"
Ld.de Casteelle: "Well, therein lay the rub. There is a reason magic like this is forbidden under our legal system. One can craft a golem of iron or stone with reasonable expectation that when left unattended, it will behave itself. But necromancy is far more volatile. The very substance that makes up the creature is the antithesis of life itself. My guess is that it will be driven to seek out and destroy its opposite force - in this case, life, wherever it's found. Unfortunately, those girls were tampering with forces they had no chance of understanding or controlling when they decided to use such a thing for a stage performance."
M.Sauvé: "It sounds like it may have been an accident - an attempt to create a realistic 'ghost' for the séance that simply got out of hand. Would you agree with Sieur Dorian's decision to conceal the crime under such unintentional circumstances?"
Ld.de Casteelle: "No, I'm afraid not. Sieur Dorian did la République a grave disservice in attempting to spare his friends from justice. Accidental or not, it is clear that Seifert and Dove delved too deeply into dangerous and forbidden magic, and the consequences that will follow will be entirely their responsibility. They should have been tried to the fullest extent of the law."
M.Sauvé: "Thank you for your time, Monsieur le President."
And there you have it, dear readers. Desperate to recapture the wandering eye of the masses, it seems that the proprietors of the Wyrmsbreath have released a terrible calamity into our fair city. Although Sieur Dorian has elected to overlook this massive transgression against the safety of his fellow countrymen, one is left to wonder how the Church of Ezra will decide to react to this and other provocations. Far from being dissuaded by her brush with the Inquisition, Stella Seifert has already announced her next great poke in the Church's eye by proclaiming that she will make the historic Ste. Mere des Larmes cathedral vanish from the city skyline - just as she has already caused any semblance of moral decency to vanish from the steamy hotbed of sin that the Wyrmsbreath has become.
Will the Gendarme continue to turn a blind eye as the performers' escaped creation begins racking up a body count? Will the Church continue to sit idly by while these necromancers make a mockery of one of the most iconic landmarks of their faith? We will be following this story closely for the answers to those questions and more as the tale develops!
L'âne Braillant featured game!
Oh no! Marcel de Renault is being humiliated in chess by the Falkovnian Ambassador! Solve the puzzle to help him salvage what's left of his pride!
White moves next, checkmate in two.
Personals and Job Listings
MISSING: The last vestiges of my dignity and self-respect
Please help, I have misplaced the last vestiges of my dignity and self-respect during the Council meeting, where I - a juris doctorate holding attorney - misfiled my own citizenship paperwork in front of the Council of Brilliance and half of the nobles in the country.
If you have any idea where they have run off to, please, please, please write to Colin Beauregard at the Olive or Twist Bar & Brewery in Quartier Marchand. I will offer a very big reward!
SEEKING: A new toy to fill the position vacated by Emeric Desrosiers.
Qualifications include:
- Comfortable with manacles and similar restraints
- Able to cook well with mushrooms
- Possessing the discipline to respond "Xas, Mistress, please strike me again," when whipped
Write to Jalil Shrixenna of Lueltar at the Broken Spire
SEEKING: Fresh cadavers
Cadavers must be well preserved and no older than three days deceased. A signed waiver of voluntary surrender of the cadaver for medicinal purposes from the deceased prior to their expiration is preferred. Cadavers of attractive men are desirable. For scientific reasons.
Write to Gendarme Camélia de Chauret at the Gendarmerie.
MISSING PERSON: Monsieur Clarence du Savage
Private investigator and L'âne Braillant contributor Clarence du Savage has gone missing. He was last seen entering the Mutinied Sailor in the company of member of the Company of the Bridge. L'âne Braillant is offering a reward of 5,000 solars for information that leads to his safe recovery, or the recovery of his remains.
Contact Monsieur Âne at the Broken Spire.
LIMITED TIME OFFER: Justice and a gruesome death.
To seize this offer, you must meet the following criteria:
- Be guilty of the murder of numerous children of the Ouvrier
- Have single-handedly redefined the term "Despicable Cowardice"
- Go by the unoriginal moniker ‘The Shepherd’
Reach out to the Ghost of Nikolai in the Ouvrier.
Be on the look out for our next issue, where our featured article will be:
Of Grain and Pasta: An Op-Ed on the Borcan Grain Deal by the Falkovnian Ambassador