| Strangers in the Night |
| Summary: | Just prior to departure, Baron Chandus has a visitor in his Four Corners study |
| Date: | 10 Juillet 1868 IE |
| Related: | Westwar |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
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| Tarris Manor Study, Four Corners |
| A well appointed though simply decorated study in the heart of House Tarris's Four Corners manse. |
| 10 Juillet 1868 IE |
The Senate of the West had shown the state of the West itself. at war, and arguing over anything. Rikton had made clear they did not intend to back down, while Kentaire sat silently and simply smiled. The Kingdoms of Aequor and Galenthia had stood proudly however, and had not backed down. This was days earlier, approaching weeks. The Galenthians are preparing to head back to their Kingdom, while Aequor has already headed home to their fight.
In the Tarris Manor, all is quiet. Guards are posted in livery of House Chandus man the gates and the interior. This is wartime after all. It is late, and one could be anywhere in the house. Thomas for whatever reason finds himself in the study. A missive from Duke Gauvain had arrived and been left for the Baron there. The missive reads simple:
Head to Goldhollow. Bring what you can.
The hand writing is angled, precise and messy. The famed writing of the Duke which had been seen by many of his nobles and officers during the last war. There was no other order. Just an order.
As the Baron reads this, a window opens and a woman slips in, holding a finger to her lips. She removes a black veil and her well-tanned almost catlike features can be seen. Anybody who had seen this woman would recognize her, she is famed as one of the most beautiful women in the west, dark, lithe, cunning and beautiful. Thomas had seen her before too. Giving him a little nod in a the sheer formal dress of her people. The Princess Livia Aerelious of Navali smiles almost playfully. "Hello Baron. I promise. I am here with no harm intended." She speaks in broken Common with the heavy accent of a Navalian.
It had been a long, difficult day, full of triple checking cargo manifests and ensuring that the ships were rationed up for the trip south, making sure that the troops had packed their rucks and were ready to go, that the ships were indeed ready (both were). Tomorrow morning, early, the entire Galenthian force alongside their Kentairish prisoners were to make the second leg of the journey to Firen, whence the legionaries of Kentaire would be let go as agreed.
Baron Thomas Chandus was looking forward to a final bowl of Four Corners oysters with some of the local vintage and then a quick, hard sleep in a comfortable bed. The last of all three for some time, he suspected, but alas it was not to be. After changing into a tunic and with nothing more than his dirk strapped to his belt, the Galenthian Marcher Lord stalked quickly down to the study to read his Duke's message. He knew they were short and sweet, and he was not disappointed. What he could not have foreseen was the entrance of the daughter of the Lord Admiral of Navali, that tiny, powerful island nation's Princess; doubly so her entrance from a window, of all things. His eyes go so wide they look like they're about to bug out, and he is about to draw his dirk and charge at the Princess Livia before she stills him. What a gentleman.
His hand doesn't quite leave the pommel. He gulps. "Your… highness. I. What are you doing jumping through the window of your enemy at night? You could be killed!" He keeps his voice quiet, and then realises he's not speaking her first language. Graciously, the Baron switches to the Imperial tongue, though his Imperial is of an Eastern flavour, influenced as it is by the proximity to Vir Sidus itself.
"Well. At least you speak Imperial. My Common is nowhere near as refined as your Imperial is." Livia tilts her head in appreciation. "My thanks." She smiles toward the dirk and shrugs a delicate shoulder as she walks around the room, her eyes glancing over everything there. She chuckles softly and says playfully over her shoulder as she investigates the room. "I do not believe your men could have found me." She smiles and looks back at him again. "Or that you would have killed me, or even have found me had I wished to have you dead by my hand." She gives him a very playful wink.
She stops by the window and looks out at Four Corners there. "Our nations are at war. Now." She says that with some pain in her voice. "It is not something I wish, but it life." She turns and leans her back on the window frame, crossing her arms as she looks at Thomas. "I cannot bring peace between us. I can however keep the ships sailing. I can keep Navali from fighting." She shrugs. "It is the best I can do. Your arguements, the actions of Rikton and Kentaire. Know that I would side with you, if I could."
Whatever Thomas is, he can still sometimes be shy, despite the position he holds and despite the events of the last few years. He blushes at the Princess's compliment, not heavily, but enough to be visible in the candle light which illuminates the manor's study. But despite his blushing, he is calculating at the same time. Truly wondering if the royal says what she means. "Might I offer you some wine, your Highness?" He asks, moving to pour it before she even answers and taking his hand off of his weapon in the process. "Queen Melisande will be heartened to hear that. I know I am. But why the facade? Would it not be possible to broker a true neutrality? Or will that require reverses in the alliance? Defeats?"
The Princess shakes her head sadly. "No. There is no way to broker a treaty of neutrality at this time. There are … alliances that prevent this, and frankly, my father is too proud to go agaisnt his word. At this point it is a matter of honor." She looks at Thomas and frowns slightly. "Also, you have legitimized our own private hell in this newfound Kingdom of Ryalta. He would never sit at table with you after that." She takes the wine cup, sips and gives Thomas a VERY playful wink. "But I'd sit at a table with this wine … What is it? Ulsen?"
She continues as if she hadn't asked the question. "So. This is the compromise I can do for you and your kingdom. So long as your ships do not sail past a certain line on the sea, my ships will never have to encounter yours. We will simply continue to do as we have always done, and try to contain White Hall." She sighs and sips the wine again. "But. You should know. It is not White Hall as you would think it. It is the Ice Clans. They are the ones raiding Aequor." She reaches into a pouch and tosses a small metallic object to Thomas.
The object is circular, and is clearly a pendant or medallion. "That is the symbol of their primary clan. The Clan of the Frozen Fields. It has been nearly two hundred years since the Ice Clans sailed to war. But they are doing so now, and for a nation who has seen peace for those Two Hundred years, their Raiders are formidable."
Thomas does his best to ignore the suggestive comments by the Princess, though a smile does creep upon the corners of his lips slightly and, of course, the blushing returns. "No, your Highness, it is, ironically, a Rikton vintage. My brother is a Templar commander and introduced it to me. I pray that I meet him not on the field."
He sighs at the mention of Ryalta. "I understand; it must be so, I am afraid. I had hoped we could simply buy them off before leaving Aequor, but they attacked our convoy in number… they sent some of the Kentairish ships to the deep, likely not knowing that they only had prisoners aboard. It was a great shame. I had hoped that we could negotiate with all maritime powers, with the goal of all committing to policing the seas and promoting trade. Ryalta, as uncouth and barbaric as they are, have much land and open space that they need coin, goods and folk to settle. Trade would benefit them, too."
His eyes widen at the pendant's arc in the air but, with a bit of quickness, he is able to snag it. The blond Baron squints and stares at it, flipping it over. "Ice Clans? I've heard their name, but I do not know anything of them. Who are they? And how did you come to this, Highness?"
"Do you know why until recently there was little White Hall raiding?" Livia asks with a raised eyebrow. She gestures to the medallion. "It is because my people generally hunt them down on the waves, and crush them there. Ships find a way past us, ships manage to break through." She shakes her head, and gestures to the medallion. "White Hall is Raiding yes, but so are the Ice Clans. We simply cannot face both of them." She shrugs. "That was taken from an Ice Hall ship by me. From its captain."
"I knew that your navy was crucial to the waves being open… but I ask again, Princess, who ARE the Ice Clans?" Thomas seems genuinely perplexed.
Livia looks to Thomas and shrugs. "People who worship the Tuskenhold, who live on an Island twice the size of Navali. Mostly frozen, more so than White Hall. They have survived by farming certain goods that survive the frozen lands, as well as hunting whales, seals, and fishing." She gestures to the Baron. "They believe in the warrior traditions of their faith, but where defeated by the Royalty of White Hall clans. That is where my knowledge ends however. For whatever reason they're back, and there are many of them."
"And the Kingdom of Navali is devoted to destroying these heathen raiders?" Thomas presses, earnestly.
Nodding Livia moves to the window again and smiles. "They have only landed on Navali twice. The first time they almost enslaved all of us. Since then, Navali has dedicated itself to containing them. We tried to invade and conquer them one hundred and ten years ago. It went about as well as you would expect. Since then, we fight them in the waves, where we are equal."
"Then perhaps when this war is over, we may join you in such endeavours. We've some splendid White Hallers in my Duchy who, despite being heathens, have dedicated themselves to the Kingdom." Thomas quaffs the rest of his wine in a very ungentlemanly manner. "We shall not cross the line you spoke of before, your Highness. I will impress upon the Ryaltans not to do so either. I suspect that they've enough experience at the barrel end of your cannons to know that it would be best to stick with plying Kentairish ships. A much better cost to benefit."
The Princess smiles and lifts the veil back to her face again. She tilts her head in a little bow, and gives Thomas another wink. "Indeed. Go fight your war. Win." Then she jumps out the window into the night.
Thomas settles back into a chair. Settles might be the wrong word. He looks distinctly unsettled by this whole encounter. Glancing at the bottle of wine, he pours himself another. It'll be a long night.