A new Caesar Someone? - Sam 28th Early TT

[Grey Wolf]

"So, do you think we'll get us a new Caesar today?"
"With this lot? I doubt it?"
"Whaddaya mean with this lot?"
"Well, look at them. All posh nobles. And is them ruling the Empire now. They don't need no stinkin' Caesar to do it."
"Yeah, I guess you are right. But, I hear them candidates are gonna speak today. Did ya know there is a girl from Dort being nominated?"
"Oooh, I heard of that. They say she is fiiiine looking. Would be a nice change having a Caesari."
"I bet you would not mind doing some body guarding of her."
"Shut up. Here they come."

It was the 28th of Samheen. First bell of the Tradetide was just about to sound. The Advisory Council was to meet and perhaps a new Caesar will be elected. It was still too early for the Hall to be filled, but several of the big players were already there. Duke Erwin of Dort arrived early and was seated already. Chatting happily with the representative of Dort Abbey he was by all appearances in a good mood. Not many others were here yet, though Hector Anzillo sat in his seat. Bored to death. The Throthgard representatives were in attendance as well along with Jacob de Besnie and General Stacco. The others were not there yet.

They were arriving however. Pausing at the double doors, Isis waited for her figure to draw some eyes, but the effect was not so great. Imperiously she glided to her chair, followed by Grand Vizier Nu'Phuat and Sheik Hassan of the Great Desert. One could almost see the impatience in her eyes as a pout formed on her beautiful face. She was not a woman used to waiting on others. Yet, here and now she was forced to do just that. Secretary Silk was evidently not there yet, but there was little doubt that he would show up soon. It was a big day and for him to miss it was unthinkable. Not many in the room hoped that there would be a Caesar by the end of the day, but however slim that possibility existed.

[Andolin]

Choosing his white tunic, to show his purity of purpose and thought, and black leggings to demonstrate the seriousness of his stance, Andolin entered the chamber behind Isis. Yes, that was the best place to be, as he could admire the sway of her walk and how it moved the various parts of her body in harmony.

Being sure to greet everyone he passed with a friendly and confident smile, Andolin was in his element. Life was really a game, was it not? This was a grand game and one he intended to win. If he lost this round, there would be another, and another. In the end, the most clever would win. As to who that was, there was no doubt in Andolin's mind. There was no need for modesty in one's mind. He was the best Caesar for the Empire. He would transform the throne from the laughing stock it had become to something to be respected, and feared.

Moving gracefully to his place, Andolin casually looked to see whether Scatha had arrived yet. The mere fact that she was the other candidate put forward proved to him how dire the threat was to the Empire, and how low the office had sunk.

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha was bored.

After the initial flurry of excitement when she'd arrived at the Dort embassy with an escort of guards from the Temple of Pecunia, the very least she'd expected was a pleasant hello from the Duke and a look of outrage from Barrett. That, and admiring remarks about her newly acquired suntan, and the gnashing of teeth over the fact that she hadn't brought back a donkey made of rushes back from Anum Rah.

Instead, her escort had been dismissed, and she had been hustled with undue haste to her chambers, where she had been informed that she had to attend an advisory council meeting. Scatha knew that her father had attended local council meetings, and assumed that they were much of the same thing - all talk about tithes, and the cost of hedgecutting, and who was responsible for the digging of a new midden in Bigwich. Scatha wasn't sure why anyone would want to ask her opinion about the digging of new middens in the Citadel, but was quite flattered to be asked all the same. With that in mind, she'd changed back into the slightly-too-tight leather trousers with the almost indecent strapping up the outer thighs, and a simple linen blouse which she knotted underneath her ample bosom so that people could see her new suntan, and then made her way to the advisory council.

It was just as boring as she'd assumed it would be. The advisory council appeared to be a group of finely dressed, very elegant people, sitting in a hall, taking about not very much at all. One of them was the Duke, but he didn't even bother to come over and ask if she'd had a nice time in Amun Rah, or whether she'd brought anything back for him. In fact, it was so tedious that Scatha was reduced to raiding a convenient fruit bowl, picking the cherries off, tossing them into the air, and seeing how many she could catch in her mouth. It was quite disconcerting seeing how many of them rolled under the furniture, but she supposed that was what servants were for anyway.

Palaces and empires are all very well, and the beds are lovely, but on the whole I'd rather be out driving cattle, she mused to herself, and actually managed to catch one of the rogue cherries in her mouth. As soon as they've sorted this business with the middens, I'm off to buy a farm... The cherries were good, and Scatha expertly spat the resultant stone out of a convenient window.

At that moment, two people entered, and Scatha watched them with interest. A woman and a man; the woman was very beautiful, and moved with an elegant, almost regal grace. Cow, Scatha thought uncharitably, and somehow managed to catch another cherry. The man looked vaguely familiar; ah, wait. It's that man who was so abrupt when I was last in the Citadel.... There was something else about him, too - for some reason, the words fox and chickens drifted into her head. Scatha pursed her lips at this unexpected association, then shook her head to clear it, before making another expert spit of the cherry stone through the window...

[Barrett]

The initial murmurings of the crowd were lost on Barrett. Determined to carry out his duties efficiently, he spent a moment organizing and familiarizing himself with the papers and supplies with which he was charged.

Taking his place by Mistress Tabeann, and following her cue in posture, he stole occasional looks about to identify those who were present and those arriving. He was interested in the meeting as a show: who showed what relations and reactions in public, and how much of it might be considered genuine. Certainly many alliances were of use only as they remained secret, and many enmities blossomed best in the shadow of supposed friendship. So aside from the task of identifying those he saw, he watched and listened closely for signs that betrayed the deceptions that were so much a part of this courtly set.

And of course there were more practical wanderings of eye: seeking out the representatives both known and unknown to him of the various faiths, and of those whom he yet hoped to consult regarding the magickal battles to come. There was an Imperial Thaumaturge whom Barrett had yet to encounter. Likely, such a person would skip this Council, but the Querist kept on the lookout for those with Aether ties

[Grey Wolf]

Hector's boredom was at an end. With shock he stared towards Scatha not believing his own eyes. Is that girl tossing cherries into the air and trying to catch them in her mouth? Good Gods, girl, I am sorry I never thought of that. Of course he knew who she was and of course he knew her background. But, this was simply precious. Still, Hector knew that Erwin won't appreciate it, and sought to draw the Duke's attention inconspicuously. Simply staring at the Caesarian candidate was enough. Not more than a couple of flickers passed before Furst noticed the look of incredulity on Lord Chancellor's face. Following it, the ruler of Dort shook his head and turned away.

Isis lowered herself in her chair and examined her nails, a look of boredom evident on her face. Casting an eye towards Scatha the Amunic girl, waited till she got the other girl's attention before lifting her chin high and averting eyes in disgust. Yes, my dear. You are nothing more but a peasant. Ill mannered barbarian. An ugly one at that. Even though Isis showed far more flesh than Scatha did, the fact that her bosom was not pushed up by straps of corset. Silky dark blue shawl, was held at her throat by a large diamond studded clasp, splitting to cover both of her breasts. Its ends joined behind her back and were secured by an elaborate knot. Her modesty was protected by a thin, filmy wrapping around her hips, even though it rested dangerously low, her behind prominently displayed. Her skin was covered in matte golden paint, and she looked more like a statue of a goddess than a mortal woman.

Andolin found his seat empty, and Hector Anzilo with an amused smile on his face. The man was watching Scatha and was shaking his head at her. Turning to greet the Major Domos, Chancellor turned back to the girl and leaned back in his seat. "Good day, Lord Azalin. Seems Lady Ashtir is enjoying herself." A chuckle escaped his lips, as another thought struck him. I wonder what speech she will hold. What she will say to the gathered Council. I do hope Erwin knows what he is doing. Behaving like a fool is one thing, but being a fool is unacceptable. This better be a very good act on her part. Otherwise we might as well hand the Empire to Silk.

As if on queue, Lord Secretary entered. Followed by Manyana, the pair conversed as they moved to a pair of empty seats. He remained standing, as the Commander of Imperial Scouts took her seat and stretched her legs before her, crossing them at ankles. For a few flickers more they conversed and then the dark clad man turned and made his way to Scatha. Ah, the infamous Miss Ashtir. Let us see what reaction will our conversation get. Unfortunately for him, others had similar ideas. Luther Dethrek appeared out of nowhere next to the Dortish girl and unceremoniously coughed to get her attention.

He was a dwarf and he was shockingly well dressed. A custom made suit fitted him perfectly, his shirt pristine white. Even his beard was neatly trimmed and combed. Only his hands betrayed him for the craftsman he was, rough and calloused as they were. A pair of dark eyes squinted at the girl from a single thick, bushy eyebrow. "Ye knaw, lass. It ain't polite te toss fruits on dem floors. Fer a future Caesari, ye show a real lack of proper manners." He was not kidding either. His face showed not even a hint of amusement. "Now, start behavin', otherwise, ye canna be a ruler."

Mistress Tabeann moved to her own spot, ignoring Barrett for now. Whether she expected him to follow, or gave him freedom to roam the room was unclear, as she said nothing and appeared busy setting her things on the desk. Not many people were easily identified as those with magickal aptitude. Actually only one man could be seen as such. Horatio Kwyll, Bailiff of the University of Magick, sat alone and had his face creased by deep concentration. Eyes closed, the man did not pay attention to what was going on in the room.

[Barrett]

Here, at last, was the Council meeting… and Barrett was underwhelmed. Had it really been necessary for him to attend? Were not Tabeann’s minutes sufficient? For, now that he was there, he realized that his ability to function effectively except as an observer was limited. To approach anyone openly was to invite speculation into his reasons for seeking them out. So he observed.

The presence and appearance of the University’s bailiff implied - as was to be expected - that the use of magic in these chambers was being carefully monitored. So Barrett resisted the urge to magically spy out the various conversations of interest. He contented himself with the only a slight alteration - to amplify his natural hearing somewhat.

There was Scatha, acting as Scatha acted. Inwardly, Barrett was both delighted and disappointed by the “bumpkin” candidate. He had come to favor the opinion that her entire nomination was some sort of smokescreen to conceal Erwin’s true plans. Already people were approaching her - likely to evaluate and ingratiate. He wished any would-be advisors better luck than he had had with the feisty Dortwoman

Isis was an interesting revelation. Certainly her appearance bore out the Amun Rah archivist’s stories. She seemed a dangerous balance to the Rafao. Both had an exotic quality, but hers was more imposing than mysterious - or so the unappreciative scholar opined.

Was she in Silk’s pocket? Or was she another wild card? And what of Manyana? Barrett had hoped to approach the Scouts for help with collecting data, but he had no wish for the information he received to be altered or approved by the secretary. Indeed, he was almost certain that Silk’s influence would have to be removed somehow if the Empire was to survive the times ahead.

Since there was some time before proceedings were underway, Barrett decided to approach Andolin: a report seemed in order and it would provide him with some opportunity to move about. The Chancellor was speaking, so Barrett merely came within a few paces and bowed silently to the Major Domus, waiting for an indication that he should speak.

[Andolin]

Andolin took his seat dutifully and smiled at the Chancellor as he made his comment. "Oh yes, Miss Ashtir is quite the amusing one. Now if she could figure out a way for herself to spit cherry stones capable of destroying the flying ships of the West, then she would have my vote, but ... " He did not finish the thought, nor need to. The woman was making a fool of herself and making his job so much easier.

As he watched Silk enter the room, it made him wonder what other plots might be afoot. The Duke of Dort might choose to reveal a new candidate once his own candidate had humiliated him, but who?

It was then that Barrett approached. It surprised the Major Domus that the Querist was in attendance at this event. He did not seem to hold sufficiently high office to be present; however, as the man had indicated a willingness to work for Andolin, why should he object? He signaled to priest to approach.

[Barrett]

“I beg your pardon for interrupting, my lord, but I wanted to inform you of the status of my research. The identity of the entity is still unknown. However, I hope to uncover some likely possibilities - with continued research and interviews. Multiple methods are being used to locate Lady Elaine as we speak, and a combined effort of those best equipped for an attempted rescue will be mounted from the University this very night. I have also met with your-”, the slightest of pauses, “- assistant on matters magical, Mistress Winthrope. I am uncertain at this point of where her efforts lie. Perhaps some sort of staff meeting, as I mentioned yesterday, is in order?”

Perhaps a bit impertinent, but Barrett hoped that the Major Domus would appreciate persistence and initiative.

“I shall have a more advanced report in a few marks following this meeting.”

[wyrdgirluk]

So many people, all wrapped up in themselves and their self importance... Scatha sighed, and shook her head. And not one of them capable of doing an honest days work. They'd probably faint at the sight of a cow pat.... For a brief flicker, she allowed herself the pleasurable image of the gorgeous golden skinned woman tripping and falling into a warm, moist, recent deposit - now THAT would be a different shade of brown - when her attention was drawn by something beside her.

Not something... someone. A dwarf with a cough, to be precise. Scatha was fascinated. She'd seen them at markets, or travelling along the road though the Seven Wiches, but she'd never had the opportunity to see one close up before. He appeared to be a short, hairy man with an interest in cleaning. Scatha wondered if he used his rather splendid beard for sweeping the floor, rather like a broom.

"That's a bad cough you have there," she said cheerfully. "You ought to rub some goose grease on your chest, that'll clear it up. And I'm very sorry about the cherries," she continued. "I wasn't deliberately throwing them on the floor. I was trying to catch them, and they bounced off my lips. It's not easy, y'know. Watch." She casually tossed another cherry into the air, annoyingly caught it on the first try... and then nearly choked as she listened to the rest of the dwarf's words.

"Me???" she spluttered, spraying fruit and stones everwhere. "Future Caesari?? Whatever gave you that idea??" She flicked the bits off her trousers, and then bent down to confide in the small fellow; "I thought this was an advisory council to talk about tithes and the like," she hissed. "Hedge cutting. Privvy digging. Things like that. Are you sure you're in the right place?"

.

[Grey Wolf]

Silk was not pleased, but it was a small setback, if it was a setback at all. There would be time for his private talk with Miss Ashtir, a private talk for all to see. Some people were so easily fooled and swayed to his side by simple trickery. With a slight alteration of his path he made his way to Isis appearing it was his original wish. Approaching the beautiful Amunic representative he stood before her and bowed, deep enough to be respectful, but high enough to show he held a certain rank. A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose as Isis beheld his form and nodded. Her eyes invited him to her side, and within flickers he was seated.

"Always a pleasure to meet you, Lady Isis. I was hoping to converse with you before the meeting starts."
"Why, certainly, Lord Silk, though I fail to see what there is for us to discuss."
"The new Caesar of course. I was hoping to discuss the voting and the candidates. We seem to be at odds as to whom we would like to see as our next Caesar. You see, I think we need to agree on one candidate and to elect that person as soon as possible. Empire is threatened both from outside and from the inside. We need a leader. Someone who will restore the security and show the enemies how powerful Empire can be. Someone who will be able to give us a bit more time to prepare."
"It is simple. Vote for Lord Azarin then and not for that country bumpkin you proposed. Nothing else need to be done. No need for talks and negotiations. We both know he is a better candidate. Why you chose to suggest that whore as our next Caesari is beyond me." I would have been so much better.
"Ah, point taken. But, are you not even interested in my reasons for her appointment? Not even a bit?"
"Frankly? No. I find your proposal insulting in the least. I for one would never allow her to be my ruler. Not in a thousand yahren."
"So, there is no way for me to sway you over to the other side? Nothing I can offer to make you reconsider."
"No. It is not going to happen, milord."
"Very well then. I shall take my leave. Good day, milady."
He rose and stalked off, back to his seat, a small smile upon his lips.

As Barrett approached, Hector cast one glance at him, before turning away and looking at Scatha again. Luther was talking to her and that was most unusual sight. He might have been concentrated on the pair, but he still could hear the conversation between Andolin and Querist. The mention of Elaine made him realize what the man was talking about. "Pardon me for interrupting, but if there is anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask. The [i]entity[i] needs to be dealt with, but we are all aware of that." He paused for a flicker before turning back and continuing to observe the Dortish girl and her dwarven companion.

Luther was not amused. The girl kept behaving like an idiot and it was starting to get annoying and not funny anymore. Picking a cherry stone out of his beard the Royal Mint, cast a scalding look at the young lady before him. "Ye know, missy, if I dinnae know better I would've guessed ye are taking me fer a fool. Privy digging. Hedge cutting. Indeed." His hands on hips, Thain of Nazareen, stood so close to Scatha that their noses touched. "Drop them cherries and take a seat or I'll give ye such an arse whuppin' likes of which Tazlure has never seen. Making fun of an old man like me. Quit behaving like an idiot and start bein' a proper lady. And don't even try to give me crap about how ye had no idea." His stunted finger pointed towards Silk. "That man made ye his candidate." Next his finger went to Erwin. "And that man supported him. I ain't never seen them two agree on anything. So, quit yer belly-aching and start behaving proper like." A fire in his eyes was very clear. The dwarf meant business. "Now, either you smarten up or I'll spank ye right here and then ye can be sure you ain't gonna be a Caesari. Understood?"

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha's eyes grew larger and larger as she listened to the diminuitive but hirsute cleaning servant.

It seemed that instead of some council meeting to advise on the merits of hedge layering, she had inadvertantly wandered into some meeting to decide who the next Caesar was. Even worse, it seemed that anyone could enter, and what was more annoying, it seemed that someone had entered her for the position, without even asking. Daisy Applebottom had once entered Scatha for the "best dressed village idiot of the Seven Wiches" without asking, and it had taken nearly half a yahren before the resultant black eyes had properly faded.

It was all very worrying.

Scatha would have thanked the dwarvish broom sweeper for drawing the misunderstanding to her attention, if only he weren't so ill mannered. Not only was he ordering her about, but he had his nose right up next to hers. Scatha had heard stories about the strange people of the far, far North, who didn't kiss but rubbed noses instead. The prospect of being snogged by a small, offensive hairy midget did not appeal, and she took a hasty step backwards.

"It seems that I am in the wrong room," she explained, looking around for someone - anyone - who might explain the awful predicament she found herself in. "And I am sorry about the cherries. But I really do think you should refrain from making threats about whuppin' my arse. After all, we hardly know each other." Scatha had encountered wizards, man eating savages, orcs, wargs, dragons, pirate captains, trolls, hippogriffs and her evil aunt Morrighan, and one short-arsed hairy dwarf with a cleaning complex and a spanking fetish held no terrors for her. "And besides, if you tried, I would have to sit on you until you learnt some manners. And as for being Caesarii, well - I don't want to be it, thank you very much. No one has even asked me if I want to be it... and I don't. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find someone who can explain what in the Mother's name is going on. Thank you for your time, and you can go back to tidying." She pointed under a cabinet; "I'm sure two or three cherries rolled under there," she said helpfully, and then made a beeline for Barrett.

He was in conversation with the man who had been so abrupt to her the last time they had met - fox chickens fox chickens a voice in her head whispered - but Scatha was quite sure that what she had to say would be much more important than what they were discussing. She poked him none-too gently in ribs; "Barrett," she hissed. "There has been a dreadful mistake. The cleaners think I'm going to made into the next Caesarii. Do they know something I don't? What is going on???"

[Barrett]

Barrett cast a most gratified look at the lord. Such attention from someone of importance whom he had yet to acquaint himself with was a welcome change. Then again, the Chancellor probably knew who Barrett was - everyone of import that he had met at Citadel so far had seemed to have some idea of the priest’s identity and vocation. His own eyes followed Hector’s to the oddly spirited conversation between girl and dwarf. Barrett quickly swung his gaze back to Andolin after briefly noting the utility if a skill such as lip-reading at these meetings.

And then…. And then Scatha was at his side. Time seemed to stand still for a flicker. Scatha. Andolin. Barrett between them. The Querist had to muster every trick he knew not to show his consternation. But the fact that he stood utterly frozen for that flicker probably indicated something of the sort to those present. He spoke quickly, turning to shoot a look of caution to his recent traveling companion.

Well, now that my head hasn’t exploded or anything, I’d best at least take the edge off of the opening for insult that she leaves.

“Milady, Scatha. They of course know something you don’t -”, carefully, carefully toned so as not to sound like an insult, “Just as you know things that they do not. I fear that those who have put you forth as candidate were unfair not to consult you beforehand.”

If I pull her aside to explain things, Andolin will have good cause to doubt my loyalty… too early.

“Perhaps the Lord Chancellor here,” Barrett indicated Hector, “Would be so good as to go over the details of your nomination, in private even, if you ask him nicely.”

He then did something completely uncharacteristic. With a silent prayer to The Thinker, the Querist took Scatha’s hand and tried to channel his thoughts to her:
Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease! Just this once do what I suggest. This other man is dangerous.

He then used the gesture to bring her forward slightly and present her to the two men.
“My lords, may I have the pleasure of introducing the lady Scatha Ashtir. Lord Chamberlain Andolin Azarin, whom I believe you have met, and Lord Chancellor Hector Anzillo.”

[Andolin]

Andolin nodded to Barrett when he promised to report later. This was neither the time nor place for discussing a creature who could consume the entire Citadel.

Distracted with Scatha's antics, Andolin found it hard not to smile ... not a triumphant smile ... not yet, but it was an amused smile. As she and the dwarf seemed to be having a difference of opinion, the Lord Chamberlain found it the most interesting sight in the room, even over Isis' near nakedness, if even for a moment.

Then, the blond bumpkin came to join Barrett. It seems that Master Barrett and she are ... friends. When the Querist made introductions, it was all Andolin could do from laughing. Lady Scatha? If anything was an oxymoron, it would be that.

"We have met before," Andolin announced. "A pleasure to see you again," he offered politely. Indeed, it was a pleasure to behold her in her current situation. Yes, there has been a dreadful mistake. "But don't you want to be Caesarii?" he asked with feigned empathy. He was happy to hear her answer before the Chancellor replied.

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha pursed her lips; first there had been the hairy midget trying to snog her, and now Barrett was holding her hand. It was like some surreal version of kiss-chase, only she didn't want to be kissed or chased by anyone in the room. In fact, she wasn't sure that she wanted to be here at all. She gave Barrett a long, hard stare; if I find out that you've known about this all that time we were in Amun Rah, I will hit you so hard that you'll wish you were back there... She shook his hand angrily from hers, then turned her attention to the two men she'd been introduced to - Andolin Azarin (fox chickens fox chickens) and Hector Anzillo.

"No, I most certainly do not want to be the next Caesarii, and anyone with any common sense would say the same. Perhaps one of you two could tell me how in the Mother's name my name was picked out of the hat?"

[Grey Wolf]

All Scatha got from Luther was a loud harrumph. Her rudeness did nothing to make him like her, and he truly wondered what had possessed Silk and Erwin to support her. The girl was a buffoon. A pretty one to be sure, but her buffooneness, bordered on idiocy. They better have some good explanation for their choice or there would be serious arse-whuppin' all around. Luther was a dwarf and they did not like being made fun off. Thus it was that he made his way to Erwin and waited a flicker or two before approaching the Duke of Dort. A cough was what drew his attention and then the look was what chased Brother Pietro of the Abbey away.

"Your Grace, a word if'n I may?"
"Yes, of course. Is there something amiss?"
"Well, m'lord, it be this lass... Scatha, whashername. She be real weird in the noggin' if'n ye ask me. Not sure why ye chose to support her. I agree that Lord Azarin be a real slimy weasel, but this be idiocy. No disrespect to ye, but why?"
"Ah, I wager you spoke to her, just now? And she did not leave a very good impression. I guess not. Sit down and let me explain."
"That be a fine idea, m'lord."
"I won't beat about the bush, Lord Dethrec. We both know the situation the Empire is in right now. Pan's Isle has been invaded, there is a rebellion in Dort, and we have a demon roaming the Citadel. We just had the riots and we even have people returning from dead. Did you know I met Captain Ulder on my way here. Alive an well. But, I veer away from the subject. Miss Ashtir...... Did you notice how headstrong and natural she is? How she speaks her mind, no matter what? How she look so down to earth? Do you think the people will like that quality in their ruler?"
"Ye mean, the way she keep behavin' like a village idiot on a sunny day? Bloody buggers, Erwin, it ain't the people who are gonna elect a Caesar. This lot are. And they don't look like bloody people to me. Ye better have someone else in mind or we are gonna need a lot of chickens for that weasel over there."
Erwin chuckled. "I would not worry too much. I fear we shall no elect a Caesar any time soon. Perhaps you have someone whom you wish to propose? I'll be happy to talk over your proposition with you and if you convince me, I could easily shift my support."
"I might just do that, m'lord. Yes, indeed."

Hector rose with a grave expression on his face, and came to Scatha's side. "Walk with me a bit, milady. I'll explain everything." He stood a few steps away and waited for her to follow, prepared to insist should she refuse. Guiding her away and around the room, his voice came as a whisper, though it was clear to those that stood close to him. "How much do you know of how the Empire is run, milady? Perhaps I should explain?" Of course he needed to explain, there was no way she could understand it. Even he had trouble with that at first. "Even though the Caesar rules the Empire, his power is not absolute. He has but a single vote in the Advisory Council which contains over forty people. Some might say he is only a figurehead. Well, that is not true. Only he has certain powers. Only he.... or she in case of Caesari can command the Purple Guards, which have been disbanded now that we have no Caesar. Only he... or she can request the Imperial Army to be conscripted." He has led her across the map on the floor and they cam to Pan's Isle. His eyes were looking down. "Did you know that there is war on Pan's Isle. And we can't send the army because we don't have a Caesar. And we won't be to do so until we manage to elect one. And people are dying there. Sad, isn't it?" He looked at her and smiled. Not a happy smile, but a rather strained one. "But, I am boring you. You wanted only the facts. It was the Imperial Secretary Lord Silk that appointed you as his candidate." He motioned towards where Silk sat in conversation with Manyana. "And Lady Isis, the scantily clad lady behind me, suggested Lord Azarin as her candidate. We were supposed to hear from both of you today. To hear what you would do to make the Empire a better place and to end the war. And then we were supposed to vote. But, if you don't want to be a Caesari nobody can make you. Not many people would cast away the chance to actually change the land they live in. Isn't there anything you would change in the Empire? Anything at all? If you had the power, would you leave the things as they are? Do you think the people are happy?"

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha followed Hector, and listened intently to his words; "If what you say is true, then you don't need a Caesar at all," she remarked eventually. "What you need is a change to the rules. You've already got a council of people to advise and make the best decisions; why do you need one person to approve their decisions? You should simply make sure the council contains an odd number of people, and tell them to vote on what they they think is best. And no one is allowed to abstain. Whatever decision gets the most votes, that is what happens. There is no need for a Caesar, or a Caesarii, at all."

Scatha shook her head in bemusement; all these clever people in their finery, and they can't see the wood for the trees... "Who made the ridiculous rule that only the Caesar could command the Purple Guard, or raise an army, anyway? Surely all the wisdom of the council is sufficient?" She glanced around the room; "Mind you, you have to ask who in the name of the Mother picked these people to serve on a council," she remarked. "Most of them look as if they've never done a days work in their life. How did they get elected to the council? Did they pay to join it, or did their ancestors cut someone's head off? Or is it a select little party that you get invited to join, a... a..." Scatha struggled for the word; "A click. And the thing with clicks is that you only invite people with the same opinion as yourself. I mean, just look at them all. I don't recognise any of them, and they are supposed to represent me and the Midlands and Dort and the rest of the Seven Isles? Who elects them to serve on the council and represent the people?" A sudden thought struck her; "The council should be elected by the people, for the people, like the village councils in Dort," she said, wide-eyed at the thought. "Thats it. Each place should elect its own representative, and they should be on the council because of that, not because they are beautiful, or rich, or because their ancestors killed someone." These were very deep and interesting thoughts for Scatha, and they made her head hurt. She looked at Hector; "Don't you see? It's the right idea, but someone hasn't carried it out properly. You don't need a Caesar, or a Caesarii, because it stops the Council doing its job properly. And that is why I don't want to be it. Don't you see?"

She took a deep breath, then shook her head to try and clear it. "Anyhow, who is this Silk person? Why did he pick me to be Caesarii? And why is he named after a piece of cloth? Doesn't he have a real name?"

[Barrett]

Barrett winced at Scatha's reaction, and again at every sentence to cross her lips. It was an appropriate reaction on so many levels that he felt no need to suppress it.

As soon as Hector had her in hand, Barrett tried to engage Andolin in conversation - both to distract him and to feel out the thoughts that lay beneath the Chamberlain's obvious disdain for the farmgirl.

"I do hope the Chancellor will forgive me the introduction. The Lady Envoy's company is a harsh burden by my own experience. I must say I was surprised at her nomination. Especially considering the source. Most unexpected."

[Grey Wolf]

It was all Isis could do not to get up and slap the impertinent peasant girl. Who does she think she is, talking to Lord Chancellor like that? And what excuse does he have for debasing himself such and conversing with a common girl? And what did Silk think? What did Erwin think? Honestly, it is so transparent, placing a puppet upon the throne and ruling themselves safely out of the shadows. MEN..... Well, not while I am around. She thought about standing up and moving over to the Chancellor and the peasant whore, but decided on another course of action. "My dearest Sheik?' She purred like a kitten.
"Yes, your divinity? Is there something you need?"
"That girl.... Scatha. She does not belong here."
"Ah, yes, the future Caesari. No she does not, your divinity. But, she was invite by the Furst."
"Yes, yes, I know, but I want her to go away. Remove her for me." Casting a longing glance at him from under her lashes, she smiled sweetly. "Please." To call her voice husky would be the same as to compare a pearl to a pebble.
Sheik's eyes darkened and he looked over to where the Chancellor stood, conversing with Scatha. "I'll deal with it." Standing up the nine feet tall half-giant slowly rumbled over to the pair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hector was slowly realizing whom he was dealing with. While her words might have been simple and her vocabulary tad limited, the girl was smart. And she was not afraid to express her opinion and put it right in the open. A rare quality these days. While her points were quite valid, there were a few misconceptions that needed to be sorted out. "A clique? Yes, that would describe this bunch quite nicely, had it not be for one thing." He paused and smiled. "Every man here hates the guts of most all the others. You see a clique is a tightly knit group of allies and you could not find true friends with a shovel and a map here. Well, maybe a few of them are, but most are centered on themselves." It was time for a little demonstration. His eyes went to Muchislie representatives, an elderly man in uniform and a handsome blond noble at his side. "Those two would never vote the same as that guy, no matter the issue." He looked towards a man clad in impeccable dark blue clothes, Imperial Secretary Silk. "Never." He turned to where Isis was conversing with a large black skinned half-giant. "That girl over there holds three votes. She is Isis, Voice of Rafao. And the man next to her always follows her lead. Always. So in fact she has four votes."

Another thing she said stung more. The mention of not one of them earning their place on the Council. That too needed to be remedied. "You are very wrong about one thing. None of these people inherited their seat on the Council. They are representatives of their respective places as you put it. I for once was a common man once. I received my Knighthood twenty yahren ago, from Duke Erwin. I worked my butt off getting here, as you might want to put it." His temper was slowly rising and Hector had no wish to curb it right now. Scatha needed to learn not to assume things and he was the man to teach her. "Duke Erwin, he fought alongside the late Caesar Anochrim." His eyes went back to the elderly man in uniform. "That man is General Giovanni Stacco, and he is sent here as a representative of Muchislie. He served in the Marines for more than thirty yahren. Started out as a Sergeant. Got to the rank of General." He turned to look at the Dortish lady and arched his brows. "Do you still think these people are here because they inherited their place? Or do I need to give you more examples?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Silk watched with interest both exchanges, shifting in his seat as Sheik Hassan rose and strode purposefully towards Hector and Scatha. There was something in half-giants stance and gait that alerted the old fox to what was going to happen. Nudging Manyana he pointed towards the black skinned giant with his eyes. "Look. This is going to be interesting. And the Chancellor has already worked up a temper. Oh, this will be fun."

He was not the only on to notice the approach, as Erwin's eyes caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes. It was the expression on the face of Isis that made him realize what was going to happen. Gripping Luther's shoulder he moved as well, moving to intercept the half-giant, but realizing he would be too late. Still onward they moved hoping to at least prevent the catastrophe before the whole thing went to Nether.

A soft thud of footsteps approached Scatha and Hector, the man not aware of the half-giant as he had his back turned to where Isis was seated. "Ah, but you asked who Silk is, right?" Once more his eyes went to a man clad in dark blue clothes. "There, that's him. And that is his name. Simply Silk. Though he has many nicknames. But, I won't be sharing those with you, because....." A large dark hand was place on his shoulder causing him to turn and almost yell. "WHAT?"

It was a black sternum of a half-giant he was faced with, eyes slowly moving up to meet Hassan's face. Still, anger flared up in Hector's eyes, the man growing irritated by the interruption and seemingly quite oblivious to the danger half-giant posed. On hi side Sheik did not pay attention to the Chancellor his eyes focused on the Dortish girl, the giant not even noticing the fine view of her cleavage his vantage point allowed for. "You don't belong here, peasant girl. Go back to your farm. Tend your cattle. weed your garden. We don't need a Caesar who can weed a garden. We need a Caesar who can rule his people. War is coming and we don't need girls, but leaders."

[Barrett]

The movement of a body as large as the Sheik's was hard to miss. And as Barrett had been keeping Hector and Scatha in sight, it was impossible.

"Oh dear," his voice had assumed a dry, worldweary tone, "Do they allow one to be Sheik even with one's manly parts damaged... or missing?"

Barrett had pushed the focus of his voice, so that without raising his volume he still might manage to project the supposedly "private" comment to everyone in the vicinity.

Draw focus, defuse with comedy, and perhaps even give her a hint of his most likely weak spot. Not that it wouldn't occur to her quite naturally.

Barrett hid his genuine smile behind an intentionally fake smirk.

[Andolin]

Andolin nodded to Barrett, but he was not really paying attention. is eyes followed Hector and Scatha for a while, and then he spent the rest of the burns scanning and observing every person in the room. He hoped, by appraising their demeanor well, to try and find a way to appeal to the majority of the assembly. Silk had assured him that he would get the votes, but Andolin preferred not to leave things to chance ... or the fidelity of the Imperial Secretary.

As the giant approached Scatha, Andolin turned his attention to that confrontation. While Barrett had a disparaging quip, Andolin wanted to applaud. Diplomatically, he restrained himself and wore only a neutral expression as he observed events unfold.

[wyrdgirluk]

OOC : my apologies for the delay!

IC :
Scatha listened with great interest to Hector's response, heated as it was; "Yes yes yes, I understand all that you have said, but you have missed my point. You, and the General, and the Duke, were given their titles and their land and their power by the people who were in charge at the time, people who only got their power by cutting peoples heads off, or killing dragons. Or whatever." She paused for a flicker, to try and make some sense of the peculiar whirlwind of ideas rushing through her head; "My point is that none of you represent the people. You're just a continuation of a system that is fatally flawed, a system where only money and strength count for anything. Is that such a good thing? If it is such a good system, why should that woman have three votes? Why should her voice count for yours, or the Duke, or me, for that matter? No, she has that power purely because of who her parents were. And the rest of you, who have gained power from people like her, are no better. None of you were asked to represent the people. You just decided to make that decision without asking. I think that's extremely rude."

These were very large thoughts for Scatha, enormous thoughts in fact, and they pushed everything else out of her head whilst she tried to remember where she was and who she was talking to. It gave the large black skinned half-giant plenty of time to stride up to her and say what he had to say.

Scatha looked up at him with eyes as wide as saucers; my, but you're a big one... She was not very tall, and the man was simply enormous, and so that Scatha's head was very nearly at the same level as his crotch. She blinked, trying to take in everything he said, and was just about to remind the giant that not only was he rude, but that she had an invite and was rather hopeful of buttered crumpets, when Barrett's comments filtered into her ears. Her eyes dropped to the giants crotch again, and she barely stifled a giggle; "Oh, I see," she said ruefully. "You're one of people with their bits cut off, like geldings." She struggled for the word, and found it.

"A unique." Scatha had heard about them from her brothers, and knew that they were often employed in theatres and the like, often dressed up as painted ladies, whatever those were. She peered back up at the giant; "I bet you have a dreadful time getting dresses to fit," she remarked. "Are you going to entertain us? Sing? Juggle? I hope you've bought your balls."

[Grey Wolf]

It was a hard thing to make both Silk and Erwin agree on something even in private, but this managed to keep them both sitting on the edge of their seats. The girl definitely had guts, calling a Sheik of the Great Desert a eunuch, insulting not only his masculinity, but also his pride, in essence questioning his fitness to rule, seeing how eunuchs were mostly servants and advisors. Erwin managed to shoot a venomous glance towards Barrett as it was the Querist who threw the initial insult, simply giving Scatha an idea and an excuse to continue. Isis merely smiled venomously, knowing that her plan worked perfectly. Many people underestimated Hassan, assuming he was dim-witted because of his size, while the half-giant was quite wise in a weird way of his people.

Sheik himself was fuming, his fists clenched tight, the knuckles turning white, despite his dark complexion. The girl not only called him a eunuch, but stared at his crotch, not even being civilized enough to look a man she conversed with in the face. Then all of a sudden, his tense body relaxed, causing Hector to arch his brows in surprise, as he half-expected Hassan to attack Scatha and end her candidacy with his bare hands. Releasing a breath he did not realize he was holding, Imperial Chancellor, waited to see what would come next.

Slowly, Hassan's hand moved to Scatha's chin, his finger gently turning her face up to look at his. "First lesson in politeness, farm girl. Look a person in the face when you are talking to them. Staring at a man's crotch is not quite what a girl should do, at least not in the public place and especially to a stranger." There was a slight 'huh' coming from Hector as he failed to believe what just came to pass. "The word you were looking for is a eunuch, not a unique. A eunuch is a man whose genitals have been removed. Unique is used to describe something that is one of a kind. Seems like your education was sadly incomplete, though your effort is appreciated."

His finger moved away from her chin, though it stood ready to make her look up if her gaze wandered once more. "I must say I am not quite impressed with you so far. You strike me as rude and uncivilized, insulting people you never met, and behaving like the world revolves around you." His hand went back to where cherries were still scattered all over the floor. "Look over there. You made that mess. Someone will have to clean it up afterwards. Did you do the same back home when you were little? Or did your mother punish you for such behavior?"

Next his hand pointed towards the dwarf Scatha conversed to before. "That man runs a Royal Mint. He is a Thain of Nazareen and judging from the way he moved after a short conversation with you, I'd say you managed to insult him. Just like you tried to do with me. So, in five burns you tried to insult two men you have never met before. Makes me wonder what is your goal here? What is it you wish to accomplish?" He turned towards first Silk and then Duke Erwin, his eyes returning to Scatha once more. "How can anyone imagine that you would be able to rule the Empire? A Caesarii indeed...."

Laughing bitterly, the half-giant shook his head. "I was right. You truly do not belong here. Though where you do belong I can not tell. You could never be a Caesarii. Even if we elect you, you will only be called that. With the way you go around insulting everyone it would only be a matter of time before everyone hated you. You do not care about others and you have no sense of right and wrong. If we elect you the Empire would fall apart in record time. You would accomplish what the nobody managed for a long, long time. Are you proud?" With that he turned and strode away, moving back to his seat at Isis' side.

[Andolin]

The giant surprised him and it was enough to make Andolin want to applaud. Scatha was a self-righteous, ignorant bitch. Other than that, he supposed she was okay. Her cleavage was something to recommend her surely. Where she belonged was in the Skiek's harem, where he could break her stubbornness in the proper way.

In an unusual move, Andolin held his tongue. He had no need to side with the giant. The girl was destroying herself quite nicely. The thing that concerned him the most was that Barrett seemed to be taking her side, to his peril.

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha was extremely peeved.

What had initially seemed to be a local council meeting to discuss hedging and the like now appeared to be some kind of grand affair where they were going to elect the new Caesar. Not only had no-one bothered to tell her this, but someone had rather rudely decided to put her forward to be to be new Caesar, without even a by your leave or even would you like to. And on top of that, a small hairy man had told her to mind her manners, and then a very large coloured man had thrust his crotch at her face and told her she wasn't wanted there.

It was all extremely vexing, and not at all the kind of place that Scatha wanted to be; the room seemed to be full of self-important types who were full up to the brim with how wonderful they were, when Scatha was quite sure that just looking at a days work on a farm would cause them to have faints.

It was time to take matters into her own hands.

Scatha strode into the middle of the room, and clapped her hands loudly, to make sure she had she had their attention.

"If I might just say something," she said loudly, and very clearly. "It seems that some people in the room do not want me to be here. That's fine; I don't really want to be here either. However, it seems that some people in the room do want me here, otherwise I wouldn't have been asked in the first place. So, rather than waste everyone's time, can you please let me know if you want me to be here or not? If you don't, then good, because then I can get on with my life and leave you to bicker and backstab, and accuse people of being rude because they haven't learnt any manners, although if you ask me, it seems far ruder to nominate someone to be Caesar without telling them, and then invite them to a meeting without even telling them that before hand, and then expect them to behave as if they've spent their entire lives talking with Dukes and Kings and Generals. And uniques," she added politely. "On the other hand, if you do want me to be here, then say so, but if you do, then please don't expect me to change, or be a lady, or say things politely for you, or be something I am not. I am what I am, and you must take me on those terms, or not at all."

Scatha turned slowly on her heel, making sure she held the gaze of each person in turn. "Well, what's it to be? Stay or go? A simple raised hand for staying will do very well, I think. Alternatively, just keep your hands in your pockets."

[Andolin]

This was going to be fun. Andolin found his hands slowly seeking his pockets, though he paused to consider raising his hand and uttering something sarcastic. After due deliberation, however, his hands continued their path to his pockets in a casual fashion.