| A Tentative Peace |
| Summary: | Rikton, Kentaire, Galenthia, & Aequor declare peace. Four Corners watches. |
| Date: | 2018-04-09 |
| Related: | All West War events. |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
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| Four Corners - Darnis Palace - Senate Hall |
| A stark, oblong chamber of black-veined marble stands beneath a dome of green glass cased in black iron and hung with lamps on long, dark chains. Seating exists here for twenty in the form of hard-backed wooden chairs of intricately carved mahogany, inlaid with ivories and abalone and cushioned with velvets and silks, that fan out between four marble pillars. At their seats or standing in the wide aisles, each member of the Senate may have a clear view of the podium at the apex of the room. Here, unlike the rest of the palace, every sound echoes and a whisper has a way of seeming a shout thanks cunning acoustic design. It is almost painfully cold at times, but the robes of Office here are thick, and one does not last long in the Senate anyhow if cold alone is enough to deter from politicking. Inlaid in the marble of the floor in the central aisle, the black-and-white rose with golden sepals and a heart of blood red stone is surrounded by a ring of red lettering that reads: 'We Live With No Kings, And So We Are Free'. |
| 1874-04-09 |
The Senate Hall is filled wiht Lords and Ladies from the four major nations here to duscuss the end of the War of the West, while Councilors form Four Corners stand in the wings to bear witness to the procedings here today.
From the Holy City of Rikton, the High Priest has sent the Cardinal Lucien Ramius. Long standing advisor to the Royalty of Aequor and known for his cool and level head, as well as his ability to broker treaties. From the nation that once housed the Holy City, the new Kingdom of Rikton, the King himself Rollo Tusca, former head of the Order Templar and known for both his savagry and compassion at the battle of Gold Hollow.
From the Principality, the Praetor Johnathon Callis of the 1st Legion. He is in dress aror, but bears no weapon. His Lorrica shined bringtly and topped wiht a purple cloak etched in gold and silver. Signifying he speaks for the Prine's House. Fitting, since he is the son of the Prince, though a Bastard.
The Hall buzzes with conversation. That is right until a man steps to the podium and slams a hammer on a granite chunk of rock. "QUIET! In the name of the One, the Many, and any other Gods who may be present, The Council of Four Corners is present to bear witness to this Senate of the West. Speaking for Four Corners is our Honorable Chancellor, Sir Mattias Thynne." e man steps asidie to allow mattias to take the front.
—
The Senate Hall is a great bustle of energy and activity, guards all clad in the black of the Banker's Guild stand ready and alert about the Hall and beyond the many linked passages and corridors. The usual seating for all parties have been arranged, chairs, tables, places for servants and scribes all accounted for. And as such the noise within the great chamber continues at a bubbling hubbub of chatter, scraping of chairs, and more. At least until that hammer falls upon the granite, at that thunderous rapport, the Chancellor of the Free City State of Four Corners rises from his seat as the various delegations, watchers, hangers-on and so forth all take their positions within the great Senate Hall. The banker himself stands adorned in a rich black robe, very little colour at all adorning his frame, aside from the heavy golden chains of office that weigh heavy upon his shoulders, commonborn as he is, and yet now addressing many nobles of great title as an elected Head of State. The very idea!
"It is with great pleasure and a burning hope in my heart that I welcome so many nation states to Four Corners once more, nations that have been embroiled in war, nations that have lost so much, and all it would seem due to the trickery of some foul demon with powers beyond our ken." Mattias' words are spoken loud and clear, his gaze drifting about the Senate and taking in the various nations, not to mention as many have no doubt noticed, the large number of black clad guardsmen all bearing the crests of Four Corners and the Honourable Guild of Bankers, Mattias' own.
"It is heartening that we are here once more, for there are greater threats than eachother out there. Threats that would gladly take advantage of any argument between the nations present. And so I bid you all welcome, welcome to the Free City State of Four Corners, welcome to Darnis Palace, and welcome to what I hope will be a new age of peace amongst nations, a new age of co-operation, unity, and understanding." Mattias lightly inclines his head to those so gathered about the Senate Hall, "And so we shall hear from Galenthia, then Holy Rikton, Aequor, and Kentaire. Galenthia has the floor." And so proclaimed, Mattias settles back within his chair, the Chancellor's eyes turn upon the Galenthian delegation, a faintly crooked smile flitting across his lips as he awaits their opening.
—
In the section cordond off for the Aequoran Delegates and Nobles, sits Mercy. She has her silk fan in her lap, freashly cleaned and perfumed looking like a Noblewoman in a Merine's dress uniform. She even has the deference for this meeting to have her hat removed and held by a paige that happens to be with her. She flips open her fan as the Chancelor adresses the group and lists the speaking order. ::Do you think we will get a different responce from Kentaire?:: She signs to the other aequoran ladies present.
—
Jasmina, the Archduchess of Aequor, wasn't going to come. There are many things awaiting her attention back in Rhone that need taken care of, things only she really is capable of dealing with. But, at the last minute, she decided she might as well come and represent Aequor and her people. She only just arrived via airship and has only just sat down as the announcement that things are about to start, leaving her looking flustered.
—
Thomas is dressed as he always is in matters of court - as the paramount noble of the eastern marches in the antique court attire of a Western Vir Sidian Comes of a border area circa 1300 IE. Not much has changed for House Chandus in style since the fall of the Empire in the west, even as style has moved on both sides of the border. A loose, long sleeved cobalt blue tunic goes from the top of his torso down past his knees, made out of a very fine light wool. Elaborate grey stripes with geometric patterns sewn into them run from collarbone to waist, where a highly shined heavy black leather belt is clasped.The centre of the tunic's chest is most prominent - a silver sun in splendor has been woven, the face minutely detailed and eyes the colour of gold. Grey trousers and cloak flow together, and on his head is the silver diadem with three sapphires in the front of a Viscount.
He rises from his seat, grasping a green and grey baton of some official status and bows to Sir Mattias, then looks to all delegations, nodding to each in turn - first to their allies Aequor, then to Ryalta, Navali, Rikton (Kingdom first, then Holy City) and finally, Kentaire. The latter is accompanied with an amused smile. "My lords and ladies, sirs and all present. I greet you in the name of the Kingdom of Galenthia. Galenthia has discussed the terms presented at the last Senate. We are well pleased with the Holy City and Kingdom's moves to greater accountability and towards a more amiable relationship with the West. Now, we feel that they can steward souls and protect the High Priest without impinging on either perogative." He pauses.
"Kentaire, however, does not please her Majesty the Queen of Galenthia. And yet, the Rose Queen is a woman of peace, having seen war devastate her lands, her subjects and indeed her own family. So we say this - we will have peace with Kentaire, but Kentaire will give Galenthia and Aequor each a ward from their house. In this way, we will ensure that the next generation works with understanding and good will. Further, Kentaire will offer its soldiers to help fight the blight that is the Qatunax in the East, and so ensure that the Civilised West is not overrun."
—
Myrana sits with her hands in her lap, looking down at the rings there and appearing to absorb what's said around her without lifting her eyes.
—
Evae is seated amidst the front of the galenthian delegation, sitting alone it would seem as though she did not bring her husband. Her face is a schooled and controlled neutral, blue-grey eyes scanning the room idily to take in the scene without really zooming in on anyone. When the viscount states his terms however, that she assumes were given to him by the queen, her eyes sweep back to him, though there is no visible reaction on her face, just a quiet patience as she listens.
—
The voices of Holy Rikton are split since Fevrier. First to speak and of higher precedence is of course the Holy City itself, represented by Cardinal Lucien Ramius. The prelate is dressed as always in his crimson cardinal's robes and small pilus skull cap. He rises and inclines his head. "The Holy City wishes only for the salvation of all and peace in the lands. Many souls have been lost and whatever will strengthen the people of the faith is amenable." Having spoken his brief piece, he sits down.
—
King Rollo Tusca of the Kingdom of Rikton still seems to be somewhat shocked that he's representing a polity, a Kingdom of which he is ruler of. The King and head of the Templars rises, dressed in a simple doublet and vest in his Kingdom's colours. "The Kingdom of Rikton concurs with his Grace the Cardinal's words. And we might offer soldiers to aid in the stemming of the evil in the east, and to watch the seas to the west. I speak specifically of the Templars, of course, my own order. We may discuss specifics after we come to agreements." He seats, too, and draws deeply on a goblet of wine next to him.
—
He hasn't been seen much out and about in a long while, but this time the Sokar heir has made his way to these proceedings. Jarret's keeping quiet as he looks between the others, letting out a bit of a breath from time to time. His gaze more often than not falls on the representative from Kentaire, studying the man carefully.
—
Brennart had come in sometime around the same point of Jarret and has made his way to sit/stand near the Sokar heir but he remains quiet to watch the proceedings for now.
—
Claire is present with the Galenthian delegation, choosing silence and observation over outright speaking forthright in the proceedings. Attired befitting her status as Duchess, she does appear to be seated next to her husband, Letholdus. The latter, not being present in earlier appearances but the necessity is needed now after earlier bargaining offers. Tapping her fingers along the edge of her own fan, she keeps it closed while waiting to see who will speak up first and from where.
—
It's been quite some time since this Knight has sen anything but battle. It's one of the reasons that he's come, in the hopes to see peace reign once more. Dressed not in armor but in the rich colors of House Romanate, Duke Letholdus rests by his wife's side, taking the hand NOT occupied by her fan. He scans the crowd with a careful expression, neither favoring or unfavoring, just getting to know all the characters in the play that unfolds before him.
—
Mattias nods to an approaching servant, beckoning the fellow with a flick of his gloved hand, and without any hesitation the servant sets down a small tray upon which sits a steaming carafe of black and bitter kaffe and a single cup. Departing as swiftly as he arrived, the servant vanishes into the depths of Darnis Palace, while Mattias himself pours out his bitter drink with a certain relish. The various nations all seem to be going through their respective motions, fluidly so, though Kentaire has yet to speak, so who knows? Mattias simply regards the Kentairish delegation as he did the bodies of the Kentairish agents he hanged by the dozen but a few months ago, with a warm smile and a cold gaze, and a sip of kaffe.
—
As just another face in the crowd, Lianna is seated in tandem to where Brenn and Jarret are, observing the court proceedings with interest.
—
Mercy listens to the stipulations given by Viscount Chandus and nods in agreement. Though maybe abit more should have been asked, since they are still trying to recover most of their western duchy from the ravages of war. That and there is still the sting of the atempted sacking of new Kashmir, and the reason she is now a countess, a good thing to come out of a bad situation, though it caused the death of her family, including her mother, something Mercy wants settled, one way or the other.
—
Under normal circumstances, there would be no earthly way that anyone could ever hope to conjure the somewhat controversial Duke Ramius al'Arran. Rumors have spread amongst some Aequoran courts of a bout of disease taking hold over much of the Arrani populace, and by all accounts, their lord has been occupied with the work of managing the death toll. It is, however, undeniable who sits under the Aequoran banner, looking very much like he'd only arrived in the early hours of the morning to the city of Four Corners and still hasn't had the opportunity to catch up on much in the way of sleep.
Or perhaps the Duke al'Arran has just been working himself haggard lately. Certainly, the ever-present threat of war has not made recent months any easier than they aught to have been.
But when Ramius rises and speaks, there is fire in his voice and light blazing in his eyes, as though the spotlight has somehow stripped away the fatigue and the worry, and he is as he has ever been the strange warrior-lord in the distant and mysterious north. "I, Duke Ramius al'Arran speak today for The Kingdom of Aequor. As my dear and precious wife is presently indisposed, His majesty the King Maris Ulbrecht al'Aequor has entrusted me with the message she was intended to convey to all of you today. While I am certainly of the opinion that my skills favor actual jousting over verbal jousting, it seems that his majesty has some amount of faith in my courtly manners."
There's a glint in the northerner's eye and a smile that suggests that any mirth in his expression is entirely self-depricating. He continues, "He has heard the words of Kentaire and Rikton and agrees that there must be peace in the West. To this end, he has instructed me to inform this court that Aequor accepts the terms of the peace agreement as they stand. In these times of great uncertainty, where the safety, security and integrity of all our lands are under siege, we must at least have peace here, between all of us. These are dark times, and our enemies are strange and frightening."
"But rest assured," the Duke laughs, "Nobody has been at war with any of us more than any of us. Aequor stands with the West, and with this war concluded, I eagerly look forward to meeting my rivals again when we march to battle with the East."
With that, the Duke bows one more time and settles back into his seat.
—
Praetor Johnathon Callis of the 1st Kentairish Legion is not what one would call a pleasant man. Pleasant enough looking, being a byblow of the Prince of Kentaire and a comely lass, but his expression usually betrays arrogance, extreme pride and disdain of others. He rises in his brightly shined armour of war, looking over others as if he has been raised to offices far above their mere Duchies and Counties. He's got a cocky smile on his face, too.
The Praetor stands and bows to Ramius. "Well said Your Grace." He turns to the assmebled councilors and assmebled Lords and Ladiies of Galenthia. His smirk and gaze pauses at Thomas as he speaks. "Peace. My Lords and Ladies. Peace." He clasps his hands before him. "Aequor has accepted this. They, whom we battled more than you." He poins to Ramius and thus the Aequoran delegation. "They who have every right to hate us, have accepted peace. Yet. The South, the Mighty and hubris filled nation fo Galenthia demands more. Always more. Will you my Lords and Ladies of Galenthia not be satisified until you have all of ancient Marinor? Need I remind those assembled here that it was Galenthia's greed that dragged the west into near famine in the 30 Year War. It was only the actions of his Eminence, the High Priest, that ended that terrible war." He shakes his head sadly.
Then turns and spreads his arms wide to the rest of the assembled room, turnign his back to Galenthia. "Now, Might Galenthia wants MORE again! We are all beset by Savages and Galenthia wants MORE. They would deny My Prince his sons and daughters. While they want more from us. What then I ask you? Shall we surrender our cities to Galenthia? Will it take Legions from Vir Sidus descending on them as they did my ancestors to bring them to heel?"
He turns and smirks again toward Thomas. "Or. Will we have Peace?"
—
Mercy flips open her fan once more, not to use it to talk, but to cover her mouth and speak in a low tone to Duke al'Arran, so only himself and Mercy are knowing what the Countess Admiral is saying. "The caused indiginity and tried to kill our Prince, they sacked our coast and laid waste to our feilds, he is willing to forgive all that for so little?" Her hushed tone doesnt stop the absolute bewilderment in her voice, though, she does have the mind to confer with the one chosen to speak for them, rather than make an outburst.
She looks to the Kentaireish speaker and gives a frown. her anger rising as the man speaks, and talks down to a nation she herself has tried to make good relations with for her king, the soft sound of wood from her folding fan creaking as she growls under her breath, speaking to Ramius once more in a hushed whisper. "We need reparations for our coast al'Arran…"
—
Ramius heaves his shoulders in what may be the world's largest shrug. "Don't shoot the messenger," he whispers back to Mercy. "This /is/ the word of our King. Were it up to me, I would fight till the last ounce of strength was spent, but it is not up to me. The King wishes for peace, and so I speak of peace." He shakes his head, eyes flickering back up towards the Kentairish Praetor right on time to flash a smile of his own.
And then out of the corner of his mouth, "Even if his face is extremely punchable and his armor far too much of a target."
—
To say that Viscount Thomas Chandus is on the backfoot would be truth, but he makes every effort not to show it, though his eyebrows knit in at Aequor's acceptance and then Kentaire's smear. Perhaps he ought to have met with the Aequorian delegation the night before to smooth things over, a rare misstep in such situations for the normally prepared and composed man. He rises anyways. "Honourable Praetor. I am not here to be caught in the net in which you are casting. Our requests are eminently reasonable, and I remind those present that the request for wards will ensure that deep relationships are established for the next generation and that war will ne'r come to our lands again." He turns his watery blue eyes away from the Kentairish Praetor, and to the others. "Remember, my lords and ladies. Remember who began this. We will all fight together, but what we ask for is so small and yet, Kentaire remains difficult? Was it not them who begged the peace table? Do I have the support of other members of this august chamber in supposing that Kentaire will have to shoulder its share of the burden, and break out of its isolation, too?"
—
Letholdus stands slowly, the once-young Knight and Duke of Galenthia beginning to show the years of his now late 30s and innumerable battles. His beard begins to show hints of grey, in a stylish manner true, but all the same. He looks to the muttering Mercy, then to Thomas, then finally settling his eyes on the Praetor. "Praetor Callis. Would you not admit that it is in your best interests to forge greater ties with your neighbors Aequor and Galenthia? Would not a marriage of families assist in that bonding? Would it not oblige us to come to your aid as quickly as you would come to ours? Also, granted your navy to protect your shores, would it not be wise to combine your forces with ours in order to protect the West from invaders? We are as much a buffer and a bulwark for your lands as your soldiers would assist to be for us. Do not look upon these so much as reparations but as logical choices that would benefit Kentaire and keep her safe as much as it would the entire West. Now is the time we must have pace. Now is the tme we must unite. The threats are out there, gentlemen and ladies," he says as he looks upon all assembled. "The enemy is no longer in this room." He then moves to retake his seat.
—
"Aye, I agree with the Galenthian Delegation." Mercy says as she stands and honestly can;t take more of the principalitys pompass words. "Qatunax have invaded Hellsmouth county and the Arkanin lands to the south, and further more, we have a Vir sidus legion marching into Hellsmouth as well. There are savages on the sea that probe Ryalta, and another force in the moutans that have chased more refugees west. We are slowly being aurrounded, and need to present a united front to deter all thease, as my peers have stated." Mercy says as she raises her head abit. "The ties between Aequor and Galenthia are getting stronger by the day, do not test them, instead come and forge your own ties with us, a united west is our best outcome." She then sits with a deadly serious look on her face.
—
As he listens to what's being said, Jarret's expression doesn't change, but he lets out a bit of a breath as he listens. Left hand kept over the right one, there's something distant in his eyes for a few moments as he studies the Praetor rather carefully.
—
Evae seems to have found her voice, as the duchess rises gracefully and eyes down the foreign delegate who dared to talk down to /her/ people. "You have the support of Wayston Duchy Lord Chandus," she says at first, though when Letholdus speaks there is a softness, a calmness to her once stormy gaze. "But my lord Duke is correct, the threat is no longer in this room, we are simply here today to discuss terms under which we can all unite to face a common enemy that is raiding our lands, killing our people, and weakening us all. But here we stand, offering kentaire diplomacy to ease them out of their isolation, to offer them alliances and friendships so that together we may face a /common/ enemy and endure the coming storm," she leaves the implication in the air and sits down, as peacefully and prettily as ever, like she had never been riled up to begin with.
—
"Your freind in Kentaire spoke so highly of you Viscount Chandus." Callis says looking at him with that same smirtk still present. "Your letter moved him to treason." He reaches into a pouch and produces an inked parchment. "I give you Galenthia's "peace". They insight treason and corrupt a noble heart to better suit THEIR whims." He looks at Thomas, victory at this in his eyes. "But the Principality wishes Peace. So I caution you Ladies and Gentlemen of Galenthia's inevitable treachery." He tosses the letter, once penned by Thomas to the Senate floor. The edges stianed a dark color. "Lest those you call friends try to murder you so they can be in the right."
He turns to Mattias. "The Principality of Kentaire offers this as her FINAL offering to these warmongers and murderers. We will agree to the marriage of ONE of the Prince's eligible children to either Aequor or Galenthia as Ward for marriage. We will also pay for two year's worth of operations form the Legion of the West as well as reparations to Aequor for the damage our Legions inflicted."
—
"Well said Praetor, your words do your Prince justice." Mattias intones in a level and measured voice, his cold and indifferent gaze barely registering a single flicker of emotion to the cocky and arrogant fellow, "We all desire peace." Though as Mercy makes her announcement, that cold and unflinching gaze flits to the Admiral, and then to Thomas as he too speaks. For a few moments the Chancellor takes stock of what is said, and casts his gaze back to the Praetor, "Let us not foster further distrust or anger with talk of hostages, or wards, or whatever term we use this day. If I recall, a promise by Kentaire was made at the last session to pay Aequor and Galenthia reparations for damages done, likewise an offer of troops to a uniform body based here in Four Corners was also made. I feel that this would suffice." And so said, Mattias looks to the Praetor, and then to Thomas, "To risk peace over anything else, would be foolish. The balance must be restored. To this end, should peace be agreed, the newly founded Honourable Company of Ordnance and Artillerists will be sent to aid in the battle against the Qatunax, likewise the new Freedom Class vessel, the Adriono shall be sent to further bolster the Holy City of Rikton's defences, for we have never scrimped on defending the Holy City, regardless of what thaws recently affected our relationship. And may I remind both Kingdoms, just as I remind Kentaire and Rikton, you all need eachother. We all need eachother."
—
Thomas offers, in turn, respectful nods at Letholdus, Mercy and Evae. He grasps the staff gifted to him by his Queen in both hands, his eyes narrowing when Callis accuses him of inciting treason. "Treason? I think not, Honourable Praetor. What I spoke of to the honourable Praetor Marcus Surelius, a foe who abided by the laws of chivalry and of God, was the ill service that your nation's advisors had done to your Prince in leading him at first into this war. Is this not what Kentaire has claimed since the beginning? Ah! But it was all a mistake that Kentaire had come into war, it was all due to evil intentions of the foes!"
For the first time, Thomas looses his mild, neutral look and sneers openly. "How dare you accuse Galenthia of such treachery? And for the reason of discussing a way forward for your realm, one that puts power in both your nobility and Prince's hands at the expense of poisonous advisors that lead him to war? Hmm, yes, of course. And you? How DARE you open correspondence that is intended between a nobleman and a nobleman. Such is bound by honour. Perhaps honour is not in your vocabulary. Certainly, open slurs are, and they are unbecoming of such a high born fellow as yourself in these environs."
Chandus raises the rod of office. "But, as a representative of Galenthia, I accept such terms. As a man of noble bearing, I will keep my opinions of you, honourable Praetor, to myself in such an august gathering." He nods at Mattias. "Well met, Sir Mattias. We applaud this."
—
"Why did I even bother…" Jarret mutters to himself under his breath, as he glances around the room again. His expression never changes from the stony one he came into this room with, though.
—
Lianna makes a quiet sound of her own as some of the veneer of civility is beginning to be scraped off of the conversation that is ricocheting around the room like a bent arrow.
—
A small figure all in black comes silently in through the obfusticated Councillor's entrance, feet padding silently even as she rushes. The bright silver jingle of a bell is heard a bit before she's visible: Myrana D'Armaz apologizes to a pair of Councillors as she slips between them to be able to see what's going on. Late! Late! Her hair isn't even braided, but hangs down her back and about her face in snowy waves; she looks panicked, and a little out of breath, even as she's gathering her composure and trying to get a read of the room and see who all is there.
—
Brennart shrugs at his cousin's question, "Eh I dunno cousin. I'm just here because it seemed like the place to be. History in the making and all that."
—
Callis bows his head to Thomas. "Peace at last." He says and motions wiht a hand. A servant walks to Thomas and hands Thomas a letter. The letter reads simply:
Praetor Marcus Serelius, and the entire Serelius line were executed for Treason. Thus is the price for betrayal in the Prince's Eye.
Cardinal Lucien Ramius applauds and nods to Rollo who stands and also applauds. The King of Rikton says in his deep and calm voice. "Then let us sign this, and see that Peace is brought, and the begining of a mutual defense against these savages is seen too."
—
Thomas takes the letter from the Kentairish servant with a terse nod. He reads it carefully. Once. Twice. He might have suspected what it said, but it is now confirmed. His eyes flash with anger, his teeth bare for a moment and the hand holding the rod squeezes hard, knuckles white. He swallows. He spent months with the Praetor, both against in him the field at d'Kemp, as the Praetor's jailor (though a rather free one), and then in Four Corners before he was allowed to return home. They shared much time talking about better times, when the war was over, and looked forward to fighting alongside eachother. All this evaporated in an instant, and, seemingly, by his hand.
The Viscount takes the note and hands it off to Duchess Claire Romante, seated next to him. "Read this." He says under his breath, gruffly. Three long breaths are taken, his eyes fixed intently on Praetor Callis. There is nothing but contempt and hatred in his eyes. Then he slowly steps forward, picking the rod up in his left hand. There is no applause. "For the Kingdom of Galenthia, I, Viscount Thomas Chandus of Repton March and Brigadier of the Royal Order of the Griffon shall sign." His eyes are fixed only on the parchment, now, and he leans forward to sign his name. He then dips the seal on the end of the rod into wax and presses it to the page - the Royal Seal of Galenthia. He steps to the side, in order to allow others to do so as well, and seems to be waiting for Callis to approach.
—
A man steps up and calls out. "Galenthia shall sign first. Then Rikton. Then Aequor and Finally Kentaire." He nods once. "Once tha tis done, The Chancellor shall sign and seal the document. Bread and salt shall be passed out at this time."
—
Mattias looks to Thomas as talk of treachery and incitement to treason fills the hall, "Well, that is disappointing." Though it is likely that Mattias is simply disappointed that Thomas got caught in such a manner, how very amateur, "Kentaire is most generous in its offer, and the restraint it shows is most admirable. I also note that the charge that poisonous advisors lead the Prince to war may be a trifle far fetched? A demon lead him to war, as he lead us all, a demon with powers beyond us mere mortals, a veritable slur upon those noble advisors I am sure. Reparations to Aequor, two years worth of operations from your vaunted Legion, and an offer of marriage to either Galenthia or Aequor? Perhaps Galenthia may seek to win that most noble hand, and put all this trouble behind them. Let peace be upon us all."
That said, the document awaits, large and beautifully scribed. Several pots of different coloured wax are also laid out, with a good many pots of ink and quills aplenty!
Mattias however cannot resist and looks towards the Rikton delegation, "Perhaps in time, the Church may be healed also. The Schism is an open wound caused by the very same demon, and that certainly pains me as I am sure it pains many here and beyond."
—
Claire glances towards Thomas only after taking a further inspection of the letter thrown to the ground. However, before she's able to do anything, the note is handed to her and if she were never prone to scowling before? The Duchess merely passes the note to Letholdus before whispering just so the three of them can hear her. "We talk later. Understood?" And given her tone, it is not a question in the traditional sense of the meaning.
—
Mercy blinks as she sees the note being handed to chandus, and his and the others' reactions makes her curious at to what is said. She looks to Duke al'Arran and blinks a few times. "Any idea what the hell that note was about?" She whispers, though, she may find time to talk to chandus about it later, she does respect the Viscount as both a man and a noble.
—
"If I ever say I want to come to this miserable place again, hit me as hard as you can," Jarret replies to Brennart, shrugging a little. Glancing to Thomas at that note is handed to him, he raises an eyebrow.
—
Evae nods and stands, though she does little to hide her distaste for the kentairian and his bravado, disrespect, and utter lack of honour. Still she represents one of the three duchies of galenthia and will not shame them today. Striding across the room, almost floating, she leans down and elegantly signs her name to the document, not sparing a glance for those who have gained her ire this day but when she turns back to where her people might see her, she is once more the charming and graceful duchess.
—
Letholdus looks to the note, shaking his head slowly as he reads over the page, his expression souring considerably before he settles back against his chair, offering the note back to Claire. "We make peace with this… Can we still say that we are better than those that attempt to march upon our doorstep from the outside?" he asks softly so only the three can hear. "I have no need to sign the document. Thomas has already done that deed for us."
—
Brennart nods a bit, "Gladly cousin." He looks back at his sister then the parchment and shakes his head, "At what cost."
—
"All life has value, or none," Lianna murmurs as she rises to her feet, seeing that neither Jarret nor Brennart are willing to take quill to ink and parchment. "Peace allows room for options. War allows only death. Have we not had enough death?" she asks in a low voice as she follows Evae's lead and strides forward long enough to select a quill, dip the tip into the ink well and signs her name as witness before returning the quill to the stack and takes her seat again.
—
Ramius glances back to Mercy and shrugs again. "No damn clue," he whispers in reply. "Nothing good, though. I'd wager someone wanted to rouse a response and make this whole dog and pony show into a right proper farce." A moment passes as the various Galenthian dignitaries leave their signatures. Ramius glances back, "So. You want to go sign that thing, or should I?"
—
Myrana looks around, being helpfully caught up by one of the friendlier Councillors whispering in her ear, and spots all the expected faces. A few surprising ones. Her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is fluffy and a little wild as if she ran here, wearing a much-too simple black kirtle with silver buttons for the gravity of those gathered, and having her sleeves pushed up to her elbows and leaving her heavy bracelets to clatter about her wrists. The little lightsilver bell pendant she wears is askew on its chain, leaning crazily to the right of the hollow of her throat. Maybe she vaulted out of a carriage?
Then she sees Ramius, and she looks exactly like she's seen a ghost. Myrana clearly did not expect to see her husband here today. In Four Corners.
But then she shakes her head with a bright clash of earrings and steps forward toward the peace papers.
—
Mercy smiles. "Oh I'll sign the thing, I'm getting the reparations for my county's losses, so I'm content to sign it, though, Kentaires performance is lacking, allround." She whispers back, and the look in her eye twoards the preator is one of pure petty.
—
Next Both representatives of Rikton, Holy and Kingdom take their turns signing. Rollo looks to the paper, reads the entire thing then signs it. While Lucien simply swishes at the paper with a Flourish, putting his unique and elegant signature in place.
—
Not moving to sign this himself, Jarret's attention is more on the exit than anything else in this room now. The sooner this is over, the sooner he can head back home, right?
—
"It's almost as if they know we were a few months out from grinding their snooty faces into the foundations for what they did, and know that they're getting off easy," the Duke al'Arran shakes his head and gets up as if to go sign, when SUDDENLY.
There's a jangle of a bell.
Ramius's head turns when Myrana bolts into the room and you can practically hear the awful creeeaaaaaaaaaak of an old door hinge turning. "Oh, there's my wife. Good! She'll probably want to sign, and it's not like /both/ of us need to go down and do that. So if she asks while you're down there, be sure to tell her that I did an excellent and utterly infallible job at representing his majesty."
—
Mercy blinks at Ramius and smirks. "Tell her you told the praetor he smells, got it." and stands and follows Myrana before the duke can reply, she intends to sign the damn thing and get this overwith, though, she hopes Kentaire slips up and gives her a reason to send her ships along their coast. She does sign, in a flourishing hand her FULL name and title:
'Countess Mercedes Aria Juli d'Juliano of Arcadia County,
Admiral of the Zephyr Legion, Vassal to the Crown of Aequor.'
And with that flourishin signature, she even manages to leave a small ink blot on where kentaire should sign, and even covers her mouth in a very much fake 'oops.' She then turns and heads back to where her Delegation is at.
—
Oncce Aequor finishes signing, the Praetor steps forward and takes the pen, signing the document with the squarish signature of a soldier. Somehow completely managing to make the "accidentla" ink blot look like apart of his signature by simply putitng Kentaire's Wax Seal over it. He smirks to Mercy. "Shame. I figured if anybody was going to try to deface a document publicly it would be a Galenthian. Ah well. I guess even Aequor has their children." His officers laugh and mock at Mercy but then sign as well. Taking a moemnt to marvel at how effortlessly the Praetor managed to make the defacing look like a part of the Kentaire Seal. Callis inclines his head at their adoration.
Then Servants move about the room passing the salted read out to all the representatives. As one is welcome ina home with bread and salt, so too is peae welcomed. Callis takes his and leans casually against a railing in the council chamber. The room becoming a buzz of conversation.
—
Mattias rises from his chair and approaches the document, casting his gaze over the signatures that at least prepare a good many of the decent and One-fearing realms for peace. For how long though? Oh Mattias doesn't have too much faith in this lasting, but what is done is done. Grasping a quill with his good ungloved hand, Mattias dips the tip in some ink and dashes his signature across the bottom, signing it with a flourish. His signature much larger than everyone elses, a veritable rollercoaster ride of whorls and beautiful curves! With that simple act performed, the Chancellor turns to those gathered, "Think not of your own petty and childish grievances…" He murmurs while eying the ink blot that stained the document, but now graces it with Kentarish skill with a quill "… and your foolish self-imagined slights, think only of the hundreds upon hundreds, if not thousands of people you represent, guide, and serve. Hard perhaps for some in this room. But necessary." His tone distinctly chiding if entirely emotionless, that cold gaze sweeping the room for an instant. A glance given to his guards, who all remain as alert and ready as they did the moment this charade began. And with little else to be said, the Chancellor moves back to his seat, pours another cup of kaffe from his steaming carafe and gestures idly to those all gathered, "You are free to depart, unburdened by war amongst your peoples, united as one against a new and fiendish enemy. May the One guide us all."
—
And with those words, and with the bread and salt passed to each and every person in the chamber. The War of the West came to it's conclusion.
—
"Sir Mattias, I understand that your words come from a place of concern, but the demon Teleko did not act alone. Indeed, the demon Teleko used thousands of others as his pawns, and among those were advisors." Thomas does not elaborate on this further, but it is plain from his expression that he too is disappointed - at Mattias's public stance, perhaps. He eats his bread as it comes around, and finding Callis, walks up to him, his rod tucked under an arm. "I embrace you, brother soldier, as I would any other." But his eyes are hard, and empty of comradeship. He reaches out and grasps the Kentairish Praetor's arm firmly. His voice is very low. "And I will gladly fight alongside you. But even as we now have peace, a peace Galenthia will honour, know that you are a caitiff, beneath contempt. Whatever goodness your father's line may have, you have received none of it, byblow. If you hold a knighthood it is hollow and false, as you are. And yet, Galenthia will honour. I will fight alongside you, because each of your soldiers is worth then times your own."
He adds, "And because our enemies are even worse than you."
—
Ramius stares at his offering of bread and salt.
And then he says: "Where's the mead, though?"
—
Myrana signs as witness in her neat hand after observing the accord very dutifully and seriously. Then she all but shoves her stylus behind her ear like it was a pencil, marking the top of one ear with a streak of black ink without noticing.
At Mattias' closing words, and the passing of bread and salt, she curtseys most deeply and respectfully for the somber occasion.
Then at the very first possible moment when she's quite certain nobody is really looking, she reaches out and siezes a little bit of Mercy's sleeve in her fingers. "Thank you," she says to her, giving the Countess a very serious look up through her bangs. Then she lets go, and starts to go up the steps to the Aequoran delegation chairs, obviously about to go bend Ramius' ear without a moment to spare, only not stomping down into hell because she is at least a little responsible, and she has riding boots on under that kirtle; because she slept on her face still in her boots and everything else like an exhausted nerd.
—
"Oh Your Excellency, I agree… but what good does it do to voice such concerns here? It gains no leverage, it merely damages how people perceive Galenthia. The shadows are where that war shall be fought. Unseen. Unheard." Mattias intones in a soft and all too dry whisper, and then Thomas is gone and that allows Mattias to enjoy his kaffe. Sip. Sip.
—
Mercy Blinks and looks at Myrana, "What have I done to deserve thanks?" she asks and waits until thomas is done talking to the praetor and moves to stand next to the Viscoumt, she herself does not have bread or salt. "A Blind Deaf mentaly disabled person could feel your anger Viscount, when you have time, I wish to have private words with you." She says with no hint of a smile.
—
As a perplexed servant rushes to get the Duke of al'Arran some mead, Callis takes the offered hand of Thomas. "Oh Viscount Chandus. I so expected more of you, but know that I too will fight by your side to honor my father's peace. Just know this Your Excellency," He smiles, it is a sad and slightly pittying smile aimed at Thomas. "You think you've won this little round of the Game of Houses and Kingdoms. You think you were actually of import in it's final product." He leans in and whispers, as he pats the Viscount on the back. "But the truth is Thomas, you weren't even a player. You were just a piece on the board and you got played." He leans back and shakes his head saddly to Thoams, then turns to leave.
—
"Pompous asses," Jarret mutters to himself. As soon as it's said that people are free to depart, he does so, moving from the room at a measured pace, making sure to avoid anyone else.
—
"Myranaaaaa," Ramius drawls in that altogether too-charming sort of way that a person only uses when he knows he's got nothing at all to hide. Not even whatever it is that's in that wineskin the Duke snuck into the court while nobody was looking. It smells like drain cleaner, which is impressive since drain cleaner won't be invented for hundreds of years. He takes a sip. "Don't you worry, I took care of everything."
—
"And yet I won more honour in the last battle of the war than you have won your entire life. Churl. Beneath contempt. Snake. Slither off to your hole until time to do battle, and perhaps then you can show your worth." Thomas is desparately close to spitting on the ground as Callis walks away, his eyebrows knit so deeply they look like to subsume his nose. He snaps over to Mercy as if he's just been attacked, but relents and relaxes. "Yes. Of course, Countess."
—
He says to Mattias, "And you too, I will have to meet. But I cannot bear the sight of other people now, and if I am forced to speak more I am like to put a dagger where it ought not to be. Good eve."
—
Watching Thomas sign, Claire moves to stand smoothly as she continues to observe the Viscount and Praetor. It's not until the latter is near enough to speak. "Oh, Praetor? While I know not what transpired between you and the Viscount in full detail there is one matter that was forgotten," she says, for all intents and purposes seeming ready to leave herself. "Am I to inform Her Majesty that the offer of marriage is rejected? Not that you need answer presently, of course," she says, polite and yet her eyes are far from smiling. Quite the opposite, in fact as she observes the other man for his reaction. "You have ample time."
—
Mattias smiles at Thomas, and gently lifts his cup of kaffe to him. The smile may well be cold, but the kaffe is delicious and warm.
—
Callis bows his head to Claire. "I will send a message to the Prince once I leave this chamber Your Grace. I believe the decision of which Kingdom to will be made very shortly." He winks to Thomas, and then is gone.
Gauvain comes up and folds his arms next to his sister. "That man. Is a colossal ass." He takes a deep breath. "At least we can choose to see him again. I vote no. Unless he brings drinks."
—
Mercy turns to Gauvain. "Your grace, if you wish to never see that… man is to strong of a word, again, I can supply the drinks for you." She says with a frown. "I'm not one to anger his majesty, else I'd have shined his eye up." She says as she looks back to Thomas. "I respect your Viscount your grace, thus why I wish to talk a trade deal with Duval when you have time." She says with a smile to both the Duke and Duchess, Tarris siblings.
—
"God's Own Breath!" Myrana says, which is what she usually swears when Ramius tricks her into trying that stuff again. But it is marvelous for preventing tooth-decay. "I thought you were… I thought you were enmeshed!" she blurts, raising her arms and forgetting just a little where she is when the bastard uses that smile on her. It is a very mixed effect. The little D'Armaz looks like she has no idea what to do with it, and flustered, settles very quickly on bristling like a veritable porcupine of distracting effrontery. "I have a whole ship full of f- of, of er…!"
Having pointed in the direction of the distant docks where Tavi's ship is, she remembers again. This is a room full of dreadfully important people. They are ending a war.
Though her voice never got above normal speaking volume, she pitches it back down again, going up onto her toes and then back down onto her heels again with a strangulated 'ngrhgh' and a clack on the marble parquet. "Someone got the cook too drunk to wake me up," she finishes, stubbornly. And in a dead whisper. Mortified. "And I was late."
—
Letholdus stands slowly as Claire does, shaking his head slowly at all that has transpired. "For all of the 'peace' we have earned here today, this thing still feels like the most colossal haycart wreck of known history. A silent calamity that we will come to rue one day." He looks to Claire, sliding a hand into the small of her back as he looks to Gauvain. "I vote no, even if he did bring the drinks. I would much rather watch him hang."
—
Without having spoken to anyone else, Thomas moves out of the doors of the Senate House at a rapid pace. He heads for the Tarris manse.
—
Once Callis is out of earshot, Claire pauses with a sidelong glance upwards at her brother and gives her head the slightest of tilts before slipping an hand into the crook of one of his. "I cannot disagree with that, dear brother. Although," she says with a glance towards Letholdus and back. "He either quite conveniently forgot the contents of the previous meeting or they have no intention of giving Galenthia a frank response. Either way, one could construe it to be an insult and one not ignored. It remains to be seen how Kentaire deals with matters. On the other hand, would we even want to trust them?" As Mercy approaches, she inclines her head to the approaching noblewoman. "I think that matters will resolve themselves in due time. At least, one would hope."
—
There can't be any decay when there's nothing left alive to do the decaying. Ramius takes another swig. When he smiles again, you can practically hear the ~ting~ of his teeth sparkling. How much of that stuff does he drink? "Ah, well. I am! You see, when I learned that you would be coming to this meeting, I knew I had to speed down here as quickly as I could. I needed some supplies anyway, so it worked out nicely. But what do I find when I arrive but my dearest marshmallow passed out face-down on her bed."
"You're welcome, by the way," he says with a sniff. "I just arrived today, but you looked worse than I for wear, so I decided that you could do with a slightly longer nap than usual. Don't worry, you didn't miss much."
"Mostly Kentaire being a bunch of assholes again," Ramius tosses back another swig, obliterating another generation of oral flora. "So basically the same as usual. The disheveled look is quite fetching on you, by the way, though I'm not so sure about the ear-coloring."
—
Grunting Gauvain looks over the chamber. "Peace. That is such a lie." He says softly. "Not with the Qatunex, the Goblins, and these Matinga. And apparently Vir Sidus invading Aequor." He shakes his head. "Thirty Legions. That is what the Duchess Myrana al'Arran said." He shakes his head. "I cna't imagine how we'd even defeat that number."
—
Turning to Mercy, Gauvain raises an eyebrow. "My daughter Bethany is the Lady of Duval. It is her lands. Speak to her of Trade deals." He shrugs a shoulder. "But. Inform her you have my blessing if it meets her criteria."
—
"Also," Claire begins as she feels the lack of a hand at the small of her back and the Duke attached to it. Having noticed Thomas' departure, "Excuse us. I have a fellow noble, however wayward to speak with." Not naming names, this one as she hears the mention of trade before adding, "Good day."
—
Myrana flushes, and it's really only by virtue of the sheer spiritual diameter of the stick up her backside that she doesn't immediately stutter out a nonsense response. But its clear that this is thanks to how she has managed not to open her mouth despite blinking and very slightly shaking her head to one side like she's carrying out one half of a slightly punch-drunk conversation out in her head, and imagining a response that allows her to function in the same room as her husband.
They spend half the year apart. Possibly because Myrana is not just extremely dutiful to her home of Fiorello and her responsibilities there, or because of the war, but because she needs time to put her poor embarrassed brain back together.
Finally she nods, and does so a little with her shoulders, too, bending a bit at the waist like: Yep. "Kentaire, yes, Peace Accord signed, yes. Everything is fine and nothing is on fire and Huh?" A hand goes up to her ear, and comes back down to her gaze a bit black on the fingers. She looks at this, startled, and then laughs, relaxing. "I have a lot to tell you. But first," she brightens. "Help me get all those bombs off of Tavi's ship before he gets back to it."
—
Mercy nods and gives a bow. "Thankyou Your grace, and also, should you need troops moved via the sea, I am of course willing to do so at a very reduced rate for you." He and Soka's arguments are legendary, so she knows that there's a chance for more allies in that direction, and why not go for the one who isn;t a total dragon-vitch. "As fir the vir sidus, perhaps a diplomatic solution could be reached, I know it failed here ,but perhaps since they and us share an enemy, the qatunax, from what little I have heard, maybe an amiccable solution can be reached?" She says before moving towards Sparky and the huge mountain of an arrani. "Peace… first chance they will get I'll wager they will probably turn on us." She says in a low voice to her two fellow Northern Nobles.
—
"Myrana," Ramius says with none of the gravitas this statement probably deserves, having replaced it all with exasperated dread, "Why is Tavi's boat full of bombs?"
Beat.
"Can't we just light the fuses and call it done?"
—