this is the kind of thing that made Lord Mayor Bainilus popular despite all the everything required to be Lord Mayor in Infernal Cheliax
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She's not actually sure this is the most strategic thing for her to be doing. It's possible that she should be socializing with the high nobility and Molthunians and Menadorians and making alliances and acquiring political power among the mighty to keep them from doing something rash (not that likely, if they're talking to each other, the ones who are predictably stupid are stupid in different directions) or against her interests (much more likely).

But as many riots and times of unrest she has handled, it's been nearly twenty years since she had one where she felt nearly this useless. She knows no one in the local power structure except a handful of delegates and Pau-Roger Santcliment, and he was nearly killed and will be recovering from his torments for days, at least.

When there was a convention, she felt like she was missing a leg. Now that the city is angry and afraid and dangerous, she feels like she's down an arm, an eye, and both ears.

Lord Mayor Santcliment is not much of a politician and when she offers to organize any of his spellcasting staff and clerks to go out into the city and earn goodwill honestly, his office is receptive. (Possibly only because she's an Archduchess. But it's not like he's going to feel threatened that she'll try to steal his city out from under him. Possibly he doesn't even want to keep it anymore. In his place, she probably wouldn't.) She burns some favors and all the non-emergency charges of her teleport staff to bring more of her own to Westcrown. She has a dozen pairs of eyes and ears searching for places a modest amount of magic or the attention of some wealthy people could do a lot of good, and be recognized as doing good. A half-dozen looking for people who others are asking for help.

From morning until dusk - she'd be getting off the street even if the rain wasn't going to start - she travels the city. Making friends, or at least people who know she did them a favor and asked for nothing other than suggestions of where to go next. And listening. To what they say, and what they don't. Which churches they like, which merchants and artisans they distrust. Who they have bought help from before, and who has had others ask for it from them. Rebuilding her eyes and arms one conversation at a time. It won't be nearly as good as what she has in Kintargo; that took years of slow reinforcement. 

After a day, she feels almost comfortable in her skin. By the end of the week, she feels like she could do something if there was another round of riots. Probably not stop it, no, not without, oh, Alexeara Cansellarion and Valia Wain and Inquisitor Shawil all working with her. But she could stop part of it.

And she doesn't feel helpless. Caring about that is probably, in infernal terms, pathetic, but it matters quite a lot to her at the moment.

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A taller urchin approaches the Archduchess. Most urchins wouldn't do this, but Oraneta has only been on the streets for a few months. She has a small cat hanging on to the back of her nest of dirty clothes. And Oraneta speaks like someone who's actually read books in her life. 

"Good morning, my lady! I work for a pampleteer. She pays well, and give us a place to stay, but now I hear they're going to make pamplets illegal, and I'm worried for my job. My ask is that you don't let them make pamplets illegal."

Sutge mews in a reedy voice as she stops speaking, and Oraneta shushes her. 

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"I'll try," she promises, "but there are a lot of scared people in the convention delegates now. I don't think they'll ban pamphlets entirely, but..." She looks at Oreneta, glances to one of her retinue, and gets a nod. "They might ban the Badgers even with a relatively sensible ban."

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She looks uncertain. "Are they that bad? She doesn't say to hurt anyone."

She looks at the pamplets in by her side, and sighs.  

"Today she had an interview with my friend Brisa, who's dead, and that was good, I think. I've never heard from anyone dead before.

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"Liches aren't popular. You're right, dear; they're fine. But if someone bans the undead from getting printing licenses, or something like that, who is going to argue?"

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Sutge mews, loudly. 

Oraneta nods at Jillia. "Yes, my lady. But anything you can do will be appreciated. There's a lot of Urchins handing out pamplets now, for the Badger, and others- and it's good for us." She says the word Urchin like she's started calling herself one.  She moves on. What a nice lady. 

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Sutge nods.

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"Of course," she says with a smile, and makes a note to consider hiring them later.


 

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A well-dressed burgher, accompanied by a bodyguard and a parasol-bearing servant to shield him from rain, introduces himself. 

“Your Ladyship. I am Pau Borrell, owner of most of this street here. I have been wronged by one of these ‘delegates’ the Galtan brought in. The watch turns all ‘civil matters’ away until the crown appoints new magistrates, but I am sure the ‘delegates’ will have absconded by then. So I turn to your magnanimity.”

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"Mister Borrell, it's not clear how far the archmage's protection to delegates extends - not to murder, we know, but that says very little - but I can certainly investigate. What happened, and from who?"

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“Oh, I don’t need him murdered.” Though he certainly wouldn’t mind it. “I just need someone to make him to give me my money.” 

”I rent out rooms, normally to respectable folks, you must understand, but with these ‘delegates’ and their stipends driving up prices I was forced to take some in myself. One of them, this orc brute Iker, has been nothing but trouble. He’d come in and out at odd hours, scare the other guests, and bring in thoroughly disreputable company. When I finally sent him off, he refused to pay. I charge half at the start of the week and half at the end, so I don’t have to visit every property every day, but this meant he left still owing half a week of rent.”

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"Well, even if the Archmage would prefer not to, Grand Inquisitor Shawil will have some strong opinions. I won't promise specifics I'm not sure of, but I will check on him, and I'm sure I'll get some results." She'll probably have to ask personally, but taking a slightly unreasonable amount of effort to make things happen for your people is the kind of thing they pick up on, even if they couldn't quite tell you how.

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“What has Cheliax come to, that it takes an archmage and the son of Abadar just to get a debt collected. Or, perhaps it’s just Westcrown. In Kintargo, I am sure the watch and magistrates are wisely appointed and actually do their jobs.”

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"I have magistrates I mostly trust and watch who are more disciplined than five years ago. No one knows the law very well, everyone who knows the old law is totally untrustworthy. We'll get it fixed, me and Lord Mayor Santcliment and all our counterparts. Faster once the city isn't on fire or falling apart from Spawn of Rovagug."

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“Of course, your ladyship, that’s a dilemma. No doubts you’ll all put the law back together, and we’ll try and get by in the meantime.”

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"And we'll do what we can to make that easier. Good day, Mister Borrell. I'll send you a messenger when I hear back."


 

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The Archduchess can apparently be found wandering the streets politicking, which is impressively brave and smart for a noble. The counts and dukes, by contrast, have generally not been that impressive... although, Archduchess Bainilus is apparently more of a Lord Mayor by experience, presumably given the archduchy for competence.

So a lawyer, small but extending somewhat into vertical space by means of hat and umbrella, approaches.

"Archduchess, I am quite Gladdened to see you attending to the Needs of the City," she begins. "I am Barrister Lluïsa Oriol i Cornellà, a Delegate, should you happen to Recall me from Debate on the Floor. I am the Attorney who Select Valia Wain has placed on Retainer in connection with Recent Events, including those Events on that Floor to which we were both Witnesses; in connection with the Matter of her Case I would beg some moments of your Limited Time, for the sake of Law and Justice."

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"Barrister! I got your letter of thanks, and it was heartening to read. And it is good to hear you have taken on her case." Less good than it would be if there was a lawyer who wasn't a Mephistophelean, but if she has the title and the hat there's no chance of that. "I can probably clear some time, now or later. What did you want to speak about?"

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This is worth a smile (type: sincere).

"I would find your Testimony or Affidavit regarding your Personal Impressions of the Matter an Efficacious Aid; in addition I would be glad of the Opportunity to discuss and confirm Matters of Fact surrounding." And to ask for a very reasonable favor if the conversation goes well enough. "I am certain you hear Entirely Too Much Flattery; please consider the Standard Flatteries to be Appended that we not waste my Breath or your Patience on it. Shall I seek your Offices at an agreeable Hour?"

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"That would probably be best; it wouldn't save much time to find a private spot out here, and I suspect whatever we say, it will be best to have some privacy. I will be home by sunset and have suitable receiving rooms," to which she can give the address.

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"I shall be shortly after Sunset, then. Thank you, Archduchess."

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"If you're a little early, Lady Sofia will let you in. Thank you as well, Barrister."


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