(1874-08-04) A Meeting Gone Sour
A Meeting Gone Sour
Summary: Darius has a meeting with Ludovic and Jasmina about his acquisition of the fortress, Sylas and Salys are his impromptu advisors.
Date: August 4th 2018
Related: There are some.
NPCs: None
Players:
Darius  Salys  Sylas  Ludovic  Jasmina  

Darius' Office
The castle that had recently been liberated from Qatanex control to that of Imperial control is well under way to being repaired. An entire Legion Cohort swarms over the thing. Men calling out instructions or orders as the wall is being patched up. Other men digging a ditch and creating a first defensive perimiter before the wall and gates. More than one Scorpians have been addedto this earthwork fortifications (The first things to be put in) And others are now on the walls as well.
(1874-08-04)

The castle that had recently been liberated from Qatanex control to that of Imperial control is well under way to being repaired. An entire Legion Cohort swarms over the thing. Men calling out instructions or orders as the wall is being patched up. Other men digging a ditch and creating a first defensive perimiter before the wall and gates. More than one Scorpians have been addedto this earthwork fortifications (The first things to be put in) And others are now on the walls as well.

Ludovic's party is greeted. The Centurian offering a salute and a bow of the head. "Viscount. The Princeps has been expecting you." He gestures. "If you'll follow me?" He turns and walks through the first perimter and then over to the gate. He signals the guards up top in Imperial and then the gate opens allowing the little group to pass. The interior shows the same hustle and bustle, with men from the legion working to effect repairs. Theya re shown up to the castle, whose main doorway is still under repair, but the sides have been affixed with two mounted scorpians to harry anybody trying to make it up to the main keep as well as supply good covering fire for anybody who breeches the walls.

Once inside they are whown to the Lord's Study at the top of the keep. Inside Darius stands behind a desk looking over a parchment. He looks up as the group enters. "Ah. Ludovic. And Jasmina." He dips his head to them and then sets the paper on the desk. "I hope the journey was pleasant?" He gestures to the pair of soldiers in the room. "This is Sylas and Salys. Scouts of the Legion, they were just reporting to me their recent findings. Viscount Arkanin wants to hit south into … Galenthia's lands and take that city they have there. I'm not sure he can."

The couch to the side of where Darius is sitting is occupied by a pair of similarly looking people. The woman, who's feet are propped up on the arm of the couch sprawled out languidly like a cat sunbathing is wearing a black velvet gown, covered in embroidered vines, thorns, and lovely roses. Salys leans back on her brother, poking at a bowl of blackberries, she picks out a particularly plump looking berry and puts it to Sylas' lips, "Oh. This one will be a good one, brother."

Her green feline-like eyes slide to that of Darius, proffering up a smirk to the man while they wait on guests, "Want some? I swear they are not special in any sort of way. In fact, nothing here is special. At all." She turns, only giving a passing glance to those that enter the room, sniffs and ignores them entirely. Just as she ignores those working to fix the place up.

Likewise propped up on the opposite edge of the couch are Sylas' own boot-shod feet, his idle form lounging in a distinctly languid fashion. Clad in leather armour, with hints of Imperial service, mingled with embroidery and embellishments of their own House. Supporting his sister, Sylas eyes the approaching blackberry and accepts it with a certain ease, chewing upon the luscious fruit and smirking a touch crookedly as he ponders the flavour, "I've had better dear sister, oh those grapes from near Valesca. Such succulent treats, the likes of which we'll never enjoy here. Everything here seems so dull. Lacking in lustre, fruit and all."

Likewise, as if on cue, his own green eyes drift to Darius, and then to those who enter as if they've interrupted something, a look of utter indifference etched upon his features, "What of this one?" He asks, plucking a ripe berry from the bowl, and offering it to Salys' own lips, as if the new arrivals were of little import. Their very presence ignored as his warm Imperial tones remain untainted by the provincial common tongue.

Most ladies might find being the only noble woman present at a meeting such as this to be intimidating but not Jasmina. If anything, the fact that it is true in her case only serves to put steel in her spine and adds quite a bit more confidence to the already-confident woman. Dressed in her house colors, the Archduches allows herself to be led to where Darius has decided the meeting would be, her expression faintly… annoyed? Displeased? HArd to really put a lable on her mood going by the look upon her face alone.

"Darius," she greets him, dipping her head towards him. A glance is given towards those lounging as they are, an obvious look of disdain forming in the way her nose wrinkles and her head shakes just slightly. "So nice to see you've made yourselves at home," she drawls out, her words dripping with dry sarcasm.

"If by pleasant you mean we weren't attacked." Ludovic says dryly. "Then yeah it was a good ride." He's chosen to wear full plate this time around, with light barding on his heavy charger to compliment. He removed his helm on the approach to the gate however and the ornately horned piece of equipment is being held by one of the knights that is hanging back in the yard to tend to mounts and other such duties. "To hot to be truly pleasant." He turns his head to eye the two scouts who have just been introduced. The movement exagerrated by the need to get them into his reduced visual field. "Between him and the Arkanin it might be doable."

"If you were not attacked, given the region, then yes. I view that as pleasant." Darius says with a nod of his head. He looks to Jasmina. "This place is a bit too posh for me your Grace. Your people appear to seek comfort. I'm used to living the life of a soldier. Simple bed and pillow ould be pleasant enough for me." He shrugs a shoulder. "Here, it's large bed, large room and closets. It's … strange." He then takes a seat behind the desk. "So. Are we here to discuss wher ethe alliance will strike next?"

A grin graces Salys' lips as she accepts the berry, makes a sour face and elbows Sylas for the trouble he's caused. "You know very well that was the worst of the bunch," she groans at the idea of Valesca grapes, "how I miss those. Everything here lacks flavor… and tact, it would seem. Did it speak?" The woman of Therin looks over her shoulder to her twin and smirks. "Though I dare say it is hot and wet here. What a miserable place to live," she sighs and faces back towards Darius. "Oh come now, you can't be too upset about a feathered down, dear."

Jasmina reaches out to touch Ludovic's arm for a second, a brief, silent reminder for him to be on both his best behavior while here as well as on guard, nothing about this situation sitting well with her. "Well, if it isn't to your liking then you should have no issue relinquishing ownership of this keep to the Viscount, Princeps." Looking at the Imperial man squarely in the eye, she adds for the siblings' sake, "So you have pets now, Darius? how adorable. Perhaps you should muzzle them or send them off to their kennels if they can't be quiet."

Sylas grunts at the elbowing, though there's a faint cat-like smirk that creeps across his lips as he fully accepts the chiding from Salys, "Perhaps it was, my mistake dear sister." As to flavour, Sylas can only nod, giving his loose hair reason to tumble about his shoulders so. As to Salys' own comment regarding Jasmina, Sylas smiles ever more a bright smile that shows off his teeth, "I believe it did. Fiesty little thing, such bite! How adorable. Given most of the provincials have dead eyes, undoubtedly from this horrid and moist place. Lacking in colour, taste and life." A shrug is given, and Darius is indeed regarded with a hint of amusement, while Sylas himself idly crosses his ankles as they bounce in the air on the otherwise of the arm of the couch, "So why does this one come encased in such ugly armour? Afraid of our dear Princeps? Or perhaps he can't find his way out?" He ponders, reaching for another berry.

Ludovic is irritated, that much is evident in the downward turn off his mouth, the hardness of his remaining eye and the fact that he shifts his position enough to fold his armored arms across his chest. Conveniently he also shifts his position at the same time just enough that he can just about see the twins as well. "I'm trying to imagine any reason I might wish to continue any sort of work towards alliance with you Princes. Given the games you are playing."

Raising an eyebrow Darius looks to Ludovic and then to Jasmina. "Relinquish control? Games? You colonials have strange ideas of alliance." He then settles back in his chair and folds his hands before him on the desk. "I will not be surrendering this castle. It is vital to the protection of the people of Paras. I also, could not allow Cervantes, who was by the way fully prepared to take this castle and fly Arkanin banners from the parapets, to take it. He's an absolute incompetent commander, worse than you are a Steward Ludovic." He looks to his companions and says in Imperial. "Play nice you two." Then switches back to common to continue speaking. "Personally, I don't think he could take that city even with his full Master's support giving him 100,000 soldiers. He'd just throw them into the flames as he charges and tries to take glory for himself."

"Such bite, it's almost cute. Extra points for being saucy, brother. I might like this one a little, if only for amusement." She raises a hand to block her lips while she mock whispers over her shoulder. "Does she think to upset me with her meaningless drivel?" Salys lowers her hand and laughs riotously, landing her gaze on Jasmina, her smile is wide perhaps even slightly menacing before she turns her head back to the bowl in hand and tosses a berry over her shoulder to land in Sylas' lap. "Now we play games?" she waves a dismissive hand towards Ludovic. "Oh, how they only wish they knew, brother. We don't play at anything do we?" Salys twirls a lock of Sylas' hair that fell over her shoulder, braiding it with her own.

Salys' turns her head again towards Darius and says in sickeningly sweet Imperial. "Who, me?" she says batting her lashes, "Come now. You can't be placating these… swine." All with a pleasant smile on her face.

"Alliance? I do not remember any of our agreements for an alliance to include you taking what you want, Darius. You promised to help us with the Qantax problem and then you'd leave." Or at least that is what she remembers of their agreement. Things coud - and probably have - changed since she was last involved in any talks. "This…" She motions vaguely about the room to indicate the keep as a whole, "… does not look like you're willing to uphold the agreement, or the alliance, yourself." A look is given to Ludovic, wanting to guage his reaction to Darius' words, the other woman's words falling on deaf ears for the moemnt.

"Really doesnt matter what you think about him." Ludovic says. "He was the one tasked with taking and holding this place. The only reason you were involved was because of your words of cooperation and allegiance. Starting to think you dont even know what those words mean." He shifts, unfolding his arms. "That your excuse is it? You didnt feel like sharing with Cervantes?" Salys' pricking finds its way into place, causing his fingers to curl. He stops the motion before he can give it away entirely and certainly never actually made a fist but for the perceptive that twitch is unmistakeable. "Because to me it looks like you saw a way to protect your claim via conquest and decided to stab me in the back for the quick gain."

With his hair so claimed and braided, Sylas smirks as he listens to the tooing and froing of Imperial and Common, "Oh dear sister, they think they bite with their words, perhaps it is all they have now they are beset by enemies and require our good grace and our aid." Sylas shrugs, leaning in a little more against his sister, allowing her free reign with those luxurious strands that tumbled into her grasp. The tossed berry is plucked and turned about within his grasp, the eye-slits of Ludovic's helmet eyed for a moment, the berry aimed for a moment more, indeed, Sylas even goes as far as narrowing an eye as if to perfect that aim just so. And yet, with a toss of the berry upwards, Sylas tilts his head accordingly and catches it within his mouth as Darius speaks.

"Games are for children. And Aequorians apparently. Us? Oh Princeps, truly. My sincerest… oh that was a good berry." A smirk follows all the same, a gentle nod offered to Darius, although there's a merry glint in his eyes as he sweeps his gaze to both Ludovic and Jasmina, "I'm fairly certain that that Cervantes might find himself wedged in another door if his tactics are to be witnessed once more. Perhaps we should make the doors to the keep smaller. It might keep him and his men at bay. Oh if only they appreciated the greatness before them, they would be begging for our help. Not barking like dogs."

Darius sighs and looks to Ludovic and then fixes his gaze on Jasmina's eyes. "I've gauged the forces of your … Kingdom … Aequor is a great nation, here in the West, but know this very simple truth Viscount, Duchess." He smiles slightly. "If I wanted, I could conquer the whole of your Kingdom with my Double Legion." He leans backa nd steeples his fingers.

"Do you know why the original Legio XIII so easily smashed Marinor?" He looks between the two. "Hmm? Any of you?

Darius smiles. "Because the Empire has Armies. Not merely a gathering of men and women with weapons, some of which are properly trained. But Armies." He gestures toward the window. "The soldiers you see outside are working to a common goal. The restoration of this Castle for a single purpose. A. Single. Purpose." He looks to Ludovic. "You? You infight. You squable. You plot against each other. You literally can not work together. To top it off, your military is fractured and you literally throw untrained men and women at a propblem. Throw enough and it will go away? Is that your thought? No training, jsut a spear and tell them to stab?"

He scoffs. "Every Legionnaire is a piece of the same unit. The Legion. Every Legionnaire works to furthering the Legion's goal. That of their Praetor. The Praetors work together to solve one goal. The will of the Senate. The Senate Works to fulfill the goal of one man. The Emperor."

He takes a deep breath. "Your Kingdom is a fucking mess Jasmina. Ludovic. You can't win this fight becuase they fight like we do. AS ONE. They are ONE army. You literally need me. You can sever this alliance, yes, but you can not afford to. Go ahead. Try it without the Legio XIII by your side. Try to defeat the Qatanex. Can you? Possibly. But you will suffer in ways you won't recover from."

Darius smiles slightly. "So. In other words. Yes. I took this Castle for Paras. To protect THEM from you, because you will come for them once this is over. Frankly, they want free of you, because you treat them like dirt. THEY ARE YOUR PEOPLE. And you treat them like Dirt."

The Therin woman watches her brother as he aims for the helm. She nudges Sylas and points to her eye and back to Ludovic, waggling her eyebrows. A dare perhaps? Salys switches to speaking entirely in Imperial, "I will make you something special for your own personal merriment if you make it into his eye hole." She smiles at Sylas and giggles to herself. "These bloody fools don't understand do they? The Qantax are nothing to trifle with. We need these walls to secure our hold and keep them out. Their dick measuring contests are a waste of time," the last bit is spat at Darius, there is a slight hardness to her features as she says this before she runs her hands over her skirts. "All they do is talk talk talk," Salys sighs and smiles at Ludovic and Jasmina, "pigs."

"Nice enough for you, Darius?" She snorts and goes back to braiding her hair with her brothers, waving her hand she says simply, still in imperial, "Just tell me when I need to kill people, okay?" Though Darius' words bring her attention round. "Bravo, Princeps. Good to see someone has balls that's leading here. Though, to be fair they are dirt."

"Just his eyehole, there's another hole that seems to be making an awful lot of noise dear sister." Sylas intones as he gathers another berry from the bowl, "Something special though you say?" The grin widens as he adjusts his aim once more, the decidedly ripe berry weighed and measured, tested for its glorious path ahead. Though Sylas can't help but comment as he ponders his aim and trajectory, "In this cold climate, I am surprised they manage any dick measuring at all. I've yet to find mind since it retreated upon arrival to the very depths of my soul. As to them and their people, they have squashed the very life from them. Milked them for all they have and more, left nothing but husks in their wake. They do not deserve these people." Sylas states a touch harshly as he aims, his hand swiftly moves, and the berry is sent soaring towards Ludovic's helmet. And Sylas watches in awe, waiting and smirking as that little blackberry pursues its life goal!

The truth. Jasmina can see it in what Darius says. The Aequor armies are very divided right now and yes, perhaps there is even fighting amongts the ranks and their commanders. But she can't let on that she believes he is right as it'd serve to undo everything, only succeed in making them look weak. "We have allies you're not taking into account," she eventually murmurs, returning to looking at Darius. That's all she says though, not ready to show all their cards, just yet.

Ludovic gets so close, so very close, to answering at several points during that speech but in the end all he says is. "All I'm really hearing in all this Darius is that you'll do what you want because we aren't worth treating fair with." When the berry rattles against the edge of the eyehole on his carried helm he swings his gaze around to look directly at Sylas. Expression dark but his temper still under control. "And your entourage is making it abundantly clear that you've no intention to treat us with even the manners you accuse us of." Turning his attention back to Jasmina he says a simple. "I think we're done here Jasmina. Whats the point in talking to someone who thinks its appropriate for his men to throw things at delegates?" To Darius he adds. "Enjoy this keep. Since its the last thing you'll be getting off me. Next time you try something like this I'll consider it the opening of hostilities."

"Ludovic." Darius says standing. "I am your ally against the Qatanex. I can even consider you a friend." He shoots the twins a quick look that says shut up with his eyes. "But understand. I am Princeps. I will be Emperor once I finish my task here, return and retake the Empire's Capital." He frowns slightly. "This is regretable, but it is what is best for my mission, and my people. You can choose to use me against them, or you can suddenly find yourself on a two front war. One, you can not, with all of your Kingdom's soldiers win. You speak of your other allies your Grace?" He turns to Jasmina. "Galenthia just finished two civil wars, and fighting this War of the West as I've heard the people of Paras call it. They can barely feed their people. They are no threat. Especially if Arkanin is an indication. Rikton? They won't risk it? Kentaire? They still fear what happened Marinor, the Senate of the West Proved that. No your Grace. You are alone. Even a united Kingdom of Aequor couldn't help you in this two front war if you go down that road. Take this offer and consider it to your … assembled nobles." He clears his throat. "The Princeps of Vir Sidus extends his hand in friendship agianst the Watanex. However we will not sit idly by while you prepare to take Paras from the people who have pledged themselves as our friends. We will see the Qatanex destroyed in this region. With or with out you."

Salys says, "I bet I can round up someone that can find it for you brother," Salys laughs heartily, tossing Sylas a wink before putting her feet to the floor and carefully untangling her braided masterwork watching as the berry makes its way towards Ludovic, she reaches over and takes her brother's hand in hers. "Your fingers are like ice!" She clearly isn't the courteous type and continues to speak in imperial. "People deserve better. You have no problems with your peasants if they are able to feed themselves and their families, clothe them and put a roof over their head. They care about working hard and they care that their overseers protect them. They care not about squabbles over land or a piss poor excuse for a… whatever this is." Salys tosses her free hand around to indicate a room.

"Allies don't mean shit, woman, when you're faced with an army of well trained soldiers, not your pissant levies and ill trained militias. Oh?" she turns a glance to Ludovic, her tone is sweet yet tinged with snark, "If you want to be treated fairly you'd have to earn it, " she says before turning away, deigning to waste no more time on those that call themselves noble in the room. She shrugs at Ludovic's anger over a berry, "They said we played games, I wasn't about to leave them disappointed," she says to Darius lamely, though Ludovic's words about hostilities makes the Therin woman laugh heartily, she puts a hand to her belly to quell her laughter and wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh… oh, that was adorable. He thinks that we are you and you are we! Awww… I," Salys points to herself and switches to common, "can be hostile to whomever I please," she smiles brightly and points to Darius. "He can't. Because he's nice like that.""

"We are already fighting a war on two fronts." Jasmina looks sad, the first emotion not bordering on open hostility to be seen. That is unti. Salys speaks, her words erroding at her nerves. "My armies and pissant levies, as you put it, are better trained than you heathens seem to understand. And who are you to speak of military matters when you seem to be nothing more than a lap dog for the Princeps, anyhow? Run along, cur, go let your Master speak without your unending yapping." This is said in perfect Imperial, signs of her house's work with the Vir Sidus, the only thing off is perhaps her accent.

Sylas looks utterly angelic as Darius casts his gaze back upon both him and Salys, why were there a halo to adjust, it would surely have been adjusted by cherubs as little angels danced about them, the berry forgotten, for that little jaunt of joy is over in an instant, "Of course Princeps. Games no more. Though with regard to the opening of hostilities, he'd surely be having this conversation with that door-blocking buffoon had he proved a better commander. He does not seem the sort you trust. A trifle too dirty for trust." Sylas exhales in a most theatric manner as he tilts his head closer to his sister, just before she undoes the braid and sits up, swinging her legs about. A movement that Sylas mirrors with relative ease, sitting there and clasping his sister's hand.

"Truly? That would be a delight I am sure. If anyone can find some assistance for my dire predicament, it is surely you dear sister." The smirk says it all, as Salys laughs and speaks of them and us, us and them, he and they, and them and he, for sure the imaginary halo has likely gone in a puff of cherubic smoke but a short moment after, "You do need us. You need him more." A nod is given Darius. Though with Jasmina's words spoken in Imperial, Sylas tilts his head somewhat, eyes a glint with mischief, "Do you require a translation? The butchery of our tongue is apparently something that they are quite effective at, more so than any butchery on the field of battle against our common enemy. Heathens? Oh. Oh so wounded. Lap dog? My word. So quaint, yet the fire does burn so admirably within it. If only our master was here dear sister." The Scout simply smiling throughout.

Sylas winks. At whom? Only one person knows. It was a swift, surrepticious wink. Wink.

"Since you've evidently forgotten." Ludovic says. "We agreed, in front of everyone of note, to leave the matter of Paras until after the qatunax were dealt with. Was expecting that to be dealt with through politics, not swords. You're the one planning to solve it with spears." He looks to Darius. "You said that once before. Theres a saying. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, Shame on me. Why should I trust you to do anything but ride in at the last minute and let my men die to buy you the rights to my lands?"

"Because I haven't yet." Darius says evenly. "This castle was only taken because I was here. There were not many, and Cervantes MIGHT have prevailed, but the loss of life would of let the enemy just sweep him aside. My men took the walls before he managed to secure a breach." He gestures to Ludovic. "If I wanted this region Ludovic, do you not think, when I showed up with three thousand men to lay claim to your lands, I would not have done it? That was simple Imperial diplomatic manuevering. Show up. Rattle your Gladius. Leave. At any point I could have marched and crushed the forces here, especially after your disaster in taking those lands, and claimed it. Instead I came to you and offered help." He shrugs a shoulder. "At this point, it is up to you. Trust me or don't. Use the Legio XIII or don't. But I highly advise you to use us. Because If you are not friends with the Empire, the I will simply claim as much territory ehre as I can as a Colonia of the Empire. I will defeat these savages. With or with out Aequor or Galenthia."

Jasmina needing no more words than what her brother already gave has Salys smiling admiringly at Sylas. "Indeed brother, who was that again? I can't remember. That's right, we don't have one. Silly westerners and their silly idea of nobility. I bet that's their problem, really. All of them have masters upon masters instead of having one, themselves." A grin graces her lips before she speaks. "Oh, I am always one to lean on when a problem such as yours comes to pass. We shall remedy it quickly, once this nasty business is taken care of." The wink is noted and followed towards its destination. "Though, I do like that one she's got spunk."

"You know, you can come over later and help me out with a little problem Sylas has been having. I keep telling him he needs to find a woman with… experience, but he just won't listen the cad." Though Salys wasn't looking at Jasmina, it is strongly implied as she is the only other woman in the room. "Perhaps, dear brother, we can tell her all about the glories of the Empire and what it means to be your own woman, we've got the most glorious wine?" Salys shrugs and tucks herself under Sylas' arm, she fans herself with her free hand as Darius speaks. "I do like a good Gladius rattle, you should come by later too. I've got winnnneee."

Something startles Jasmina who has taken to staring at Sylas as if he suddenly grew a third arm from the top of his head, leaving Dovi and Darius to speak a moment. The shock of whatever caused it ends swiftly, however, and she draws herself up. "Insults and bluster. That is all you have to offer? I should not go as far as to call you curs for I would hate to insult the dog…" Glancing towards Salys, now, her eyes narrowing until almost closed entirely. "Excuse me, but I tire of their words." Without so much as asking to be excused, or to be pardoned or any other form of politeness, Jasmina leaves, her hands curled into tight fists.

Ludovic just asks, rather surlily. "How is that different to what you're already doing Darius?" Jasmina's decision to leave sees him turn to shadow her out.

"Technically it is our land, land we've simply let you graze on for a few hundred years, but the Princeps does make a far more diplomatic point." Sylas offers with an idle wave of his hand, a wave that is paused but for an instance as Salys speaks, "Such wisdom dear sister, perhaps they are indeed troubled by so many masters all pulling in different directions, if only they realised how easy it was to be free." A sigh escapes him, soon followed by a smile as his eyes drift back to Jasmina, those two pairs of green eyes are likely more green eyes than anyone wishes peering at them, especially when both pairs belong to Sayls and Sylas, "Oh don't leave, please stay. we'll tell you of my troubles, and you'll tell us of yours! There's much to discuss. Truly!"

Salys looks at Sylas and Darius and shrugs. "What? I was serious," she sighs, "perhaps I'm not very good at this stuff after all."

Sylas leans his shoulder against Salys' and just exhales softly, "It's not you. It is clearly them."

To Ludovic Darius says as he sits down, "It is different. It means less of your people die." He leans back and says to the twins, "One of you get a glass of wine." Then back to Ludovic. "Think on that. OH, And Jasmina?" He calls after her. "I gave you the chance to prevent ANY of this."

Salys snaps to one of the workers walking by the room, "You! Go get the wine from my rooms." She sighs, "Down the hall to the right, yes THAT door." She says when he pantomimes the location. "Grab the bottle off the desk," she eyes Darius, "two of the bottles off the desk," she eyebrow waggles at the Princeps, "and some glasses. Hurry along now."

Salys sighs once more, "I think… I think she was the /one/." With a wink at his sister, Sylas slumps back and down across the seat, flinging his arm across his eyes as she works on fetching the wine and glasses, while he simply sets about working to nudge his sister off the couch.

Nodding Darius stands again and walks to the window to look out. Maybe to watch the two Aequorans leave. He sighs as he looks out that window. "You know. Ten years ago, we would have arrived with a double Legion, and the Colonials would have probably asked how they could help. Now? Now they think they can be surprised when their ill treated citizens want to join something better." He shakes his head. "One above. Now. You two." He looks over his shoulder. "Tell me what you learned from that meeting."

"You oaf!" She says elbowing Sylas, the man returns promptly with two bottles of wine and some glasses, Salys tosses him two coppers he smiles and runs off. "See, it's not hard to get them to love you." Though she quiets and listens to Darius. "Indeed, Darius. I learned that they they're ill prepared and far worse off than even they know. If there is infighting, then… they're doomed." Salys sighs as she pours each of them a glass of fine imperial wine, handing them out, "It is also very clear, for all their knowledge of language they have no idea what we can put forth. Basically, they don't know who they're dealing with." Her imperial is fine, smooth as silk and very serious. "I don't know wether to pity them for their ignorance, or kill them all to spare them the embarrassment. Brother?" She asks Sylas as she takes a sip of her wine.

It is with a grunt at that prodding that Sylas slowly and slinkily sits back up again and provides ample room for his sister should she so settle once more, "They are scared. It would not take much for more of their holdings to join us. More bad decisions, more bad luck, more battles in which you and you alone show them for the fools they are. It could be anything from one of their noble blood horsewhipping a citizen sparking a revolt, to a tremendous defeat at the hands of this enemy of ours, to another victory lead by you Princeps." Seated just so, Sylas drapes his right arm over the back of the couch, adopting a rather languid pose as he tilts his head back for a moment, "It would be all too easy to assassinate some idiot land-holder incidently, to push things along. Just a thought." A smile, almost feral in its nature drifts across Sylas' lips as he lounges just so, "I also learnt that I do love provincial women when so full of fire and vim." A deep breath is taken, he might be serious, he might well not be, but either way he sighs another of his theatric sighs, "Wine!" A hand is simply offered out before him, his gaze averted elsewhere, "They fight not for their people, but for their blood. Their is no real unity. A shame. Perhaps it was a blessing that we left them behind to wallow in their own filth, for they would have been a terrible disease at the heart of the Empire had they come with us way back when."

Taking the wine darius sips it, holding the glass before him and one hand behind his back as he continues to gaze out the window. He takes a second sip, savoring the sweet Vir Sidian Red wine. It wasn't Ricoshan Red, but that was so rare these days he simply took what he could get. He looks over his shoulder. "All points I agree with. Very well then." He sips from his drink. "Causing all this right now before they become enemies is a bad idea. While they fight the Qatanex they are useful, even if they stumble about and get their fool heads killed. However we need to know where to strike and how. Find a Lord or Lady, or what ever in both this theatre, as well as that damn Arkanin house. Kill them. Make it appear the Qatanex did it. Try to make it somebody that won't be missed on the battlefield, but important enough that it will incite these Colonials. Also. Find me other targets in Arkanin and d'Korbina. I want a list incase we do have to fight them of who to kill to weaken them."

Salys puts a finger from her glass upwards while waving the glass around. "We could have mother send some of her pets to sow some dissension in their ranks, or get their peasentry riled up by firing a few fields," she slides a glance towards Darius, remaining standing at the moment, "unless that isn't your goal? I mean, they need to be broken down before they can be built back up." She walks over to the side of the couch Sylas is sitting and rests her free hand on her brother's arm. "I'm not opposed to doing some dirty work, brother. A poisoned well that gives all the shits for a few days would do wonders to draw attentions away from here." She simply nods at her brother's other observations, adding only, "It was a good thing, indeed, brother."

Salys raises a brow and gives Darius a cheshire grin. "It will be done, won't it brother?"

The feral smile that flits across Sylas' face says it all, why if there was a cushion he could adorn his loins with, he probably wouldn't anyways! Instead he sits up and reaches across his chest to gently pats Salys' hand that rests upon his arm, "Your will be done Princeps. I'm certain we can ensure a particularly fiery death for those concerned. There'll be little but ash and the bitter taste of regret left hanging in the air." Sylas nods once more, the smile softening, although the feral tinge barely drifts free of the twin's features, "And a few wells, a few whispered promises. They have nothing but the boot upon the citizens neck to keep them in their lofty positions of comfort of wealth, when the citizen pushes up, the tyrant topples." Another nod is offered, "We'll ensure a list is with you as soon as is possible. It'll be a long list, but a fun list." And with that said he looks up to his sister and that smile returns, "Our time has come sister dearest."

Darius nods to the twins. "Good. See this handled and we'll ensure the Empire's victory here in the West." He nods and sips the wine again. "These Colonials. I doubt they even use people such as you. They probably claim something about Honor or some other Romantacised bull shit." He shakes his head. "It makes fantastic reading, but is intollerable in practice."

"Be still my heart, you know how much I love lists, brother! I will be sure to fill your bag of tricks with a few of my own," Salys giggles, patting Sylas back. "Oh, it certainly has come, and what a joyous time it shall be." Salys slides her eyes to Darius. "Oh, I'm sure they do, but not as much as they should. For certain, none are as skilled. Apparently poisoning is not a noble thing. Bullocks to that. Stab them or kill them with wine, matters not to me."

"And I shall ensure a few of my own are within yours sister!" Sylas replies just as merrily at the prospect of leaving some number of people on fire, frothing from the mouth, bleeding from the eyes and leaking from the ears, as one might the prospect of petting a new puppy, "Not noble? They truly are heathens. They will never understand serving a greater cause, for their only cause is that of themselves. Tossing good men and women against an enemy they barely understand in the vain hope that a wall of their dead will protect them eventually. It truly saddens my heart." Sylas murmurs softly, his other hand rising to rest against his chest, "So yes, those we kill shall die happy knowing they have served the Empire. Even if no one else realizes it."

With another curt nod Darius turns and sets his wine glass on the desk. "Good. See it done then." He looks the two over. "Let me know if you need anything to accomplish your assigned tasks. We have to be ready to strike if they choose war. While you are finding targets for that list, see if you can find information on the Key Leaders as well. Something we can use against them."

"I guess we've just been upgraded to spymasters, what a thought!" Salys grins at Darius. "Oh, if you find it too cold here just let me know, I am not too good at acquiring talent but… well," she laughs and finishes her wine. "Let's get making that list."

"But she does have talents." Sylas adds as he rises to fetch more wine, smirking as ever.

"Oh… you!" Salys swats at Sylas. "Now he's going to think I need your help." She snickers. "Now…. Who should we start with, hmmm..?"

It is with a laugh that Sylas steps away, swatted as he is, for there's no dodging the swift hand of his sister, "Well, giving that one-eyed wonder a dose of the deadliest runs should be top of our list… as a possibility. As for that glorious Provincial, so full of fire and anger, immolation for certain if it ever needed it. A shame, but one should consider all. Come sister, there's more wine in the other room, wine and parchment, and ink! Ink and wine!" Reaching back and offering his arm to Salys to duck under, the green-eyed twin pauses only to peer at Darius' desk, reaching out to nudge a little decoration to the edge. Teetering just so. A deft little movement of the hand. Yet a delayed one at that, so when the door slams shut behind both twins, the tremor will surely send the objet d'trash plummetting to the floor.

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