“You have usurped the Maker's creation. He made us both of the same matter, but you wear a crown and I a yoke. The world hasn't room for us both. For me to be content, you must be destroyed; and for you to be safe, I must be dead.” ―The Elusive Iconoclast
She has spread discontent across Serault. She has drawn a fire-eyed mob to your gates. She has fermented heresy and rebellion. She must answer for her crimes... but with the minimum of further unrest.
What is to be done with the Elusive Iconoclast?
Available actions[]
1.
Visit the Iconoclast in her cell You can hear what she has to say for herself: but if it becomes known that you visited her in her cell, her cause will grow stronger.
(Uses 1 action)
Result: No quarter She bears her imprisonment with grace, suffering deprivation without complaint and eating little. "My prayer sustains me," she says. She admits to any crime of treason, rabble-rousing or heresy laid at her feet, and is certain you will put her to death. "How can you not? You have usurped the Maker's creation. He made us both of the same matter, but you wear a crown and I a yoke. The world hasn't room for us both. For me to be content, you must be destroyed; and for you to be safe, I must be dead."
+3 Clues, +2 Rumors of Revolution
2.
Investigate her chantry connections She didn't learn her theology from haystacks and carthorses.
Result: A change of heart True enough, she was an initiate in the Chantry and trained at Serault Abbey. You hear from current and former nuns of the Abbey. They speak of her dedication, her piety; her unruliness, her wilfulness, her flirtations with heresy. She will say little about her education. "The Chantry has lost its way," she says. "You have seduced it with gold and comforts. It props you up when it should burn you down. Therefore, those it has abandoned must do the burning themselves. I have foreseen it. The sky, aflame. On your ashes we will build a second Golden City, and the Maker will descend to dwell among the meek."
-10 Clues, unlocks Send her into retreat at the Abbey
3.
Have her put to death While she lives, her revolution will prosper. But executing her is risky. Andraste has long inspired an Orlesian affection for martyrs.
Difficulty: Rulership*6/7 (uses 1 action)
Success: The knot is tight, the rope strong, the drop swift and final. The Iconoclast dies on a sodden, blustery morning. The clouds weep over the rooftops of Serault town, grey as a funeral shroud. The weather and the early hour keep the crowds away. She stumbles as she climbed the steps. The gallows steal your certainty before they steal your life. The days afterwards are crucial. It wasn't hard to convince the nobility to your course. You pack the streets with the additional soldiers they loaned you. For days before and after, you encourage respected figures to speak out against the Iconoclast's less popular crimes, like her heresy. The feared uprising never comes. Serault's revolutionaries have no shortage of people who think they should lead, but not one with the Iconoclast's charisma. The revolution splinters into squabbling cells. Her candleflame sigil continues to appear in alleyways, though, drawn by angry youths when the wine flows.
+1 Secret, -20 Rumors of Revolution, -20 Clues, You had the Elusive Iconoclast put to death
Failure: The end of the beginning The Iconoclast goes to the gallows singing the Chant of Light until the noose takes the song, and breath, from her throat. Hundreds gathered on this misty morning to watch her. But they barely murmur as she dies. They cause no trouble, and the additional soldiers you drafted in stand unneeded. When the Iconoclast is dead, the crowd turn and make their silent ways home, exchanging glances. Their eyes are hard. The revolution only gains pace. Its members are more canny, now. A core of dedicated rebels provides direction and coordination. They speak the Iconoclast's name like one of the Anointed - as if she were the Maker's own hand.
+1 Secret, +20 Rumors of Revolution, -20 Clues, You had the Elusive Iconoclast put to death
4.
Send her into retreat at the Abbey She'll be well-cared for, but secluded. Perhaps, in time, she will change her ways.
You'll need to amass enough evidence to make this sentence stick.
Result: Back to the beginning The Elegant Abbess waits, masked, in the courtyard. "We'll cloister her in the Rose Tower," she tells you, leading the way, "where she will spend her days in isolated prayer." The chambers are modest but comfortable, with an adjoining walled garden planted with neat, alternating lines of rosemary and basil. A heavy, pepper-haired woman is waiting there, clad in silver armor decorated with diving hawks. Her smile is lazy, but her eyes are sharp. "The chevalier Joleise will guard her night and day," the abbess explains. "It is my fervent hope that one day we can cure this poor child of the visions that have allowed her no rest." For the first time, the Iconoclast speaks. "You can't cure revelation, mother." "Enough, Aulienne," the Abbess says, "Enough, now." Without her, the revolution goes from sear to simmer. The dissidents wait to see if she will return to lead them. But the chevalier Joleise sleeps little and lightly, and the Iconoclast is not seen again beyond the abbey walls.
+1 Secret, - 16-20 Rumors of Revolution, -20 clues, You had the Elusive Iconoclast confined to the Abbey
5.
Poison her in her cell
(Requires 80 Scholarship, 1 Bag of Royals) What if she died of a sickness? Oh, of course they'd suspect you. But if her body showed the signs of disease - you might even convince them that it was the Maker's judgement. It would be a despicable act. But Serault must be preserved. You could purchase the herbs and visit her in her cell. It's safest.
Result: The innocence of wine The herb you use has no name in either Orlesian or Tevene. In wine it has no taste. You prepare it yourself. Afterwards, you fling the gloves you wore on to a gardener's fire in the open air. You conceal the wine-flask beneath your coat. The Iconoclast is praying when you enter the cell. She shows no surprise when you pour her a cup of wine. "He told me that the Marquis would be my cup-bearer," she says. "But I did not imagine it would be thus." She meets your eyes as she drinks: then she casts the cup away, stretches herself on the straw pallet, and turns her face to the wall. Three days later she is dead, her body splotched with sores. They whisper in the taverns that she had the deceiving-pox, the prince-in-green that some call syphilis. If the surgeons of Serault know better, they hold their tongues. The Iconoclast's followers live on, but they are robbed of the bright climax they hoped for. Their fervor fades. That night you dream of a woman in the heart of a fire, burning, weeping. A tall man watches and smiles. His face is the face of the Shame of Serault.
+1 Secret, -10 Rumors of Revolution, -1 Bag of Royals, +6 Twilight, You had the Elusive Iconoclast put to death
