Advisory Council Meeting (late TT, Samheen 26th)

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Advisory Council Meeting (late TT, Samheen 26th)

Post by Grant »

Square in shape, the Hall of the Council comes to a focus at the center of the room. From there, rows rise concentrically in tiered ripples, like the waves from a stone cast into a pond, about the central podium on which a petitioner can stand and make his pleas. Here, more gilt-leadened chairs sit behind gilded desks, each set on the tiers to overlook one another. The walls are draped in long velvet curtains, hiding the cold brick walls behind.

There had to be desks for several hundred, for there were many representatives to hold in this great room, both the minor nobles and the wealthy merchants. And since some represented a majority of the Ceasar's wealth, it was wise of him to treat them well. Those that came before the council to petition expected such behavior.<hr>The first official Advisory Council meeting since Caesar Anochrim's death, it was already shaping up to be a very hotly-contested moment for all parties. After the recent security risks in the Citadel Fortress and the recent Retiring of the Purple Guard, there was a certain sense of urgent confusion in the room, a room guarded by white guards instead of the customary Purples that were no longer anywhere in the Citadel.

Already in attendance were Secretary Silk, Furst Erwin, Chancellor Anzilo, The voice of Rafao Isis, Count de Besnie of Muchislie (looking rather ill, in fact), and Meira Duedheal of Kislovan, along with a large crowd of lesser dignitaries and functionaries. The room was filling nicely, with open seats still awaiting any with an Imperial Vote or perhaps representing a power that had such a vote.

Glancing up at the seats, Furst Duke Erwin, Viceroy of the Empire, was growing impatient and bored. This would be his moment, of course, though the crowd would already be prepared for his announcement thanks to his deliberate indelicacies in the last day or so. He would stand before them and pitch a Dortese farm girl as the newest Caesari of the Empire, and he would have support from all sides...as well as opposition. That would be the moment that the lines would be drawn for the coming struggle...and Erwin believed himself prepared.
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Andolin
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Post by Andolin »

Striding into the room was the Lord of the Chamber, now feeling very much in his element. Wearing a white tunic, in empathy with his new guard, and a black cape, Andolin was here primarily to observe. One day he would be Caesar, but not this day. No, this day was for another to put forward their case ... and another to oppose it. Battlelines would be drawn and the true power would rest with those who appeared to be available to have their loyalty purchased. For Andolin to become Caesar, there would need to be either a weak Caesar who he could dominate, or a civil war amogst the councilors that would give the Major Domus the upper hand in having the military might to arrest and slay the wrong candidate. The right candidate would be implicated and likely be exiled, leaving the path open for ... another.

Today he would not project power. No, today he would establish himself as a player, but a minor one. His eyes sought out Silk and then Erwin. He knew them both, and gave each a nod, as well as the other council members. He assumed that the council would have placed him in Silk's faction. That would serve him well enough for now, as Andolin viewed Silk as the most powerful and the most dangerous.

His attention turned to finding his seat.
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Post by Grant »

Hector was bored. It was unusual for Hector to be bored at such a moment, but he couldn't deny the truth of it. He was bored. No doubt due to his lack of tasks before the Advisory Council. Ordinarily, he would be quite busy indeed, gathering up the floor assignments, issuing the agenda, preparing the direction and pace of the assembly. But this would be a very unusual Advisory Council meeting. In this meeting, they had only one item on the agenda, and by that virtue alone Hector had nothing to do.

But he was worried. While handing out the agenda was paramount among his concerns...it had to be fully distributed before he could call the Council to order...he had another task that usually gave him to be quite busy indeed just before the Council convened. Usually, he had to take up and arrange the floor for those that requested to speak on various issues upon the agenda. Naturally, that could be a massive task of diplomacy, and it was always something of a game for the Lord Chancellor to arrange the requests in a most fitting and sensible way...and to know when to stop offering out the Council's time such that all issues had enough time to be brought to vote...even if that vote was to table an item for later debate.

But so far, he had received none. Not a single cleric, runner, or clerk brought any such note or request to him, indicating that no one wanted to be the first to discuss the only issue on today's agenda. Naturally, he could call upon the Viceroy to speak...Erwin was the Viceroy, after all...but no one else wanted to open discussion on the next Caesar of the Seven Isles.

To those with a mind for politics, that was...troublesome. No quorum. No agreement. There will be a division today, he knew, glancing over at Silk and pondering just what the Tyrant had up his sleeve. He would know about this Scatha Ashtir, of course, and he would already be hard at work trying to find her and murder her...but killing Scatha wasn't the only requirement to win over the Empire. Erwin might get away with presenting himself for the next Caesar if he were ever drunk enough to do so, but Silk would never succeed at such a thing. He needed a leader...and no doubt today they would find out just who the Tyrant was backing.<hr>Andolin hadn't had a lot of reason to be in this particular room before. It was a very bland and depressing room, truth be told, it's floor the only fine decoration in site. The floor was a series of carefully shaped and placed stones that made for a figurative map of the World. All of Tazlure was represented, a map made by the Mercator such that it would lay flat. The Seven Isles dominated the center of the room, with the Citadel placed at it's very center, and from there it reached out, each nation...each island...represented by a tile set within a sea of black. The distant Eastern Empire could be seen at the end furthest from the door, and at the end closest, the Western Kingdoms, the latter separated into smaller nations that Andolin knew well. Taquar, The Kingdom, Kaza Rhun... even the vast stretch of unknown desert that, according to rumor and legend, housed the remainder of Tazlure's dragons alongside beasts and peoples of legendary cruelty and bloodthirst.

Stretching along the northern and southern edges of this map were rising rows designed like massive steps, each step separated from the one behind it by a thin, wooden railing. Chairs lined along each of these massive steps, and their lengths were broken each by a pair of mundane steps for access, the stairs rising up to the walls themselves at the back of the very steep auditorium. Curiously, the Advisory Council Room was not large...but the feeling of power here was greater than anywhere else in all the Empire. Non-voting observers could seat themselves behind the Imperial Electors, though there were virtually none today...the Major Domos' standing orders for the Palace were still in effect, and so only Internal Ambassadors and their immediate aides could gain entrance into the Palace at all...and so only the first few rows on each side of the chamber would even see use for this Council.

At the far end of the chamber...just past the Eastern Empire...was the podium from which the Lord Chancellor would assign the floor. The chair immediately behind him was reserved for the Caesar himself, and so it would remain empty...but the two seats to either side were reserved for the Caesar's household, the Lord Chamberlain and the Lord Chancellor, and once Andolin's eyes met Hector's for a brief moment, Hector offered the Major Domos a slight nod and motioned towards the chair on the Caesar's right. The traditional seat of the Major Domos, who also held the honorable title of Bailiff of the Citadel.

"Milord Chamber," came the female voice behind Andolin. Mistress Tabeann was another of the curious anomalies that often appeared in Imperial Politics. She was not an Imperial Voter, but as the Imperial Archivist and Lady Historian, it was customary for her to be invited for the purposes of recording events. Mistress Tabeann herself might not have been an Aurelian, but she managed to seem Aurelian, her bland, undecorated face and simple, uninspired clothing instantly marking her for her position as well as ever the writing case in her hands ever could. And like any Aurelian historian, she had a bland, disinterested look upon her face that could actually be believed, the woman having long since sacrificed the ideals of humanity and charity in favor of fact and logic. This only gave her seem older than she was, though for a woman of perhaps fifty yahren, she still managed to show some enthusiasm and exertion in her task as the head of the Imperial Archives.

"I believe this may be your first Advisory Council. And a very strange one it will be. Should I prepare you for what will happen, or have you been prepared?" she offered, not at all out of charity so much as a clinical need to educate and illuminate.
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Andolin
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Post by Andolin »

His choice for seating could be hardly better, sitting at the right side of Caesar. His ego was assuaged even though it conflicted with his desire to maintain a low profile in this meeting.

Turning to greet the Imperial Archivist, who (as he recalled) was answerable to him, Andolin gave a small bow. "Indeed, it is my first meeting and I would be most appreciative of any primer you might offer. There is still time to discuss protocol before the others arrive." This might seem an ironic request coming from a man who once carried the title Master of Protocol, but it was a subject that was very important. Sometimes process could be as important as substance.
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Post by Grant »

"I wish we had a better example to offer you than today," offered Mistress Tabeann, one of her long, thin, somewhat gnarled hands moving up to straighten her hair. "Ordinarily, the Lord Chancellor would have prepared our agenda, and he would recognize speakers in order of their petitions to address each item on the agenda before a call for plebiscite. However, the traditional agenda has been postponed in favor of choosing the next Caesar of the Empire."

Andolin's seat was at the far end of the chamber...past the entire world, as it could be seen in smooth relief upon the floor...and Mistress Tabeann thoughtlessly accompanied the Major Domos down the corridor between the seats, amid the representatives already gathered. Among them could be seen Miera Duedheal seated near Lord Tamrial Anghiril, an Imperial Elector in addition to his duties as Lord Privy Seal, Ina d'Yrsa from Trothgard, her position having recently been sabotaged by the sudden departure of Aesa, Jacob de Besnie, the Count appearing somewhat ill and diminished and requiring a cane to move about at all, the lovely and absurdly presented Isis along with her advisor, the Vizier, and her willing stooge, the Sjeikh of the Great Desert. Sitting near Jacob de Besnie was General Stacco, who nominally represented Lady Marie of Muchislie.

A small collection of institutional Electors were seated together, that group including a young, dashing man of impeccable presentation including mouse-brown robes...a very telling feat to make brown seem in any way fashionable...who sat happily chatting with Horatio Kwyll, the representative from the University of Magic and, in a more legal sense, the University's Bailiff. None of the religious seats were occupied...the Father, the Mother, or even the Order of Paladins, a curious absence that might have not seemed so very curious to Andolin, but the seat reserved for the Imperial ScoutMaster...Manyana...was in fact filled, the rather misshaped, little woman idly picking at an improperly groomed fingernail as she waited impatiently for the show to begin.

And of course, there were the two that, to all who really understood the lay of things, really controlled the Empire. Imperial Secretary Silk slouched in his chair in a fine display of very poor posture, while Furst Duke Erwin von zu Dort-Billigh was absorbed in a rather animated conversation with the Elector beside him, a curiously wild looking gentleman that must have been the Imperial Elect from Islay. While Erwin's companion was certainly the Imperial Elect from Islay...his seat was labelled as such...it was likely that the gentleman had never actually been to Islay, and that, as things often went in the Advisory Council, he represented little more than a pocket vote for Erwin. There was little doubt that half the electors in the room were pocket votes for Erwin. But then, there was little doubt that the other half of the votes in the room were pocket votes for Silk...but there were precious few ways that could be proved or refuted in either case.

"The Imperial Electors are separated into three groups, Major Domos..." murmured the Mistress of the Archives. "There are Representatives from Member Nations, there are Household votes, including your own and the Lord Chancellor...those from Imperial Office...and there are Institutional votes, from positions that have earned representation over time. Temples, Abbeys, Schools, the like," she waved a hand negligently. If there were any great differences in how each elector functioned, she didn't elaborate, though the need for such a distinction clearly pointed to such a thing. "Today's meeting will no doubt be a very difficult one. I suspect there will be a great deal of debate and theoretical discussion, and I find it singularly unlikely hat a new Caesar will be chosen. Most likely a short list of candidates will result, warranting further discussion and perhaps a consensus later. Ah...if I may ask, milord Chamberlain, do you have a suggestion for our next Caesar?" she asked, though it was instantly clear to Andolin that Mistress Tabeann simply didn't care about who might be the next Caesar, at least in a political sense. She was, in all ways, a scribe and a historian...and her interest seemed merely academic, delivered in the same way she might inquire about the appearance of a rare Amun Rah scarab beetle.
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Post by Sosa »

council meetings were nothing new for Sosa. She had stood behind Anochrims chair uncountable times.

But this time was different, everything was different. Her whole world had changed.
It had started this morning. Sosa was not one to fret over her clothing, but she had stood before her wardrobe for a long time, letting the purple fabrics slide through her fingers.
She had decided upon her ceremonial robes, which hung somewhere in the back.


Now she entered the Council hall, dressed in plain white robes, the silver flame of Illuminatus around her neck, her hair loose.
She bowed to Erwin en Hector, and refused to acknowledge Silk. She felt uncomfortable, but tried to look calm, serene. After all she was the head of her order, and had every right to be here.
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Post by Andolin »

Asking the Archivist to name the individuals that were foreign to him, Andolin progressed slowly towards his seat, making sure to greet everyone he encountered with a friendly word or nod ... everyone except Jacob de Bessnie. There was no need to be disagreeable to anyone else. Soon enough, Andolin would be ruling them all, at least those that survived the coming purge and civil war. Sadly, Jacob would not be one of the survivors. Andolin would see to him personally. He had hurt Isabella, and he would pay with his life. Anyone who hurt one of his people would be punished, but Isa was special, even after death.

Though he hated to admit it, he missed her. He had no one to confide in. No one to share his love and ambition any more. His heart was growing as cold as the stone of the keep itself, though he feigned a more optimistic demeanor.

As he moved to sit, he replied to the Archivist by saying, "I have no candidate in mind. I am hoping that we can find someone who can unify all of the electors and strengthen the Empire in its hour of need." He could think of only one such person and modesty, plus self-preservation, kept him from naming himself. No, there was a gae to be played and Andolin wanted to watch the two masters at work.

As Sosa entered, Andolin arched an eyebrow. He had thought her dead or in exile. Now, here she was, in the flesh. She looked far more pretty in white robes than purple armor. Interestingly, Andolin had already decied that when he became Caesar, he would seek her out. The first thing he would need to do to free himself from the power of Silk would be to cultivate those who hated him. He nodded to her when she looked his way.

Ensuring that his shields were tightly drawn, and fingering his runic amulet that blocked mind reading, Andolin hoped to be able to keep his thoughts secret. If he could not, he would be doomed in short order.
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Post by Sosa »

OOC: And finally we meet !

IC:

Sosa glanced around the room, still not quite at ease with the whole situation. After all, she had stood here for almost 20 yahren as Anochrims guard, she had let others speak for her order, to avoid a mixture of interests.
Now she had to play a different role, and play it with style and confidence, or the beasts would be all over here without warning..

She focussed on Andolin, whom she had seen, but never met. Why was he here today? What was his game, and most important: Whose side was he on?
She returned his nod, trying to look past and through his polite bearing, into the real person beneath.

Then she took a seat next to Erwin and waited for things to start.
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Post by Grant »

The Mistress of Archives was only too happy to point out and remark upon each Imperial Elect in attendance, people that Sosa knew if not socially, then at least by their position as Electors. There were only sixteen of them, all told, sixteen men and women who ruled the Empire...though there were easily three times as many people in the room, with runners, servants, and clerks filling it out nicely. Among them were Isis, voice of Rafao, Sjeikh Hammahn of the Great Desert, Meira Duedheal, representative of the Royal Family of Kislovan, Tamrial Anghiril, representative of the Kislovani Nation, Ina da'Yrsa, favored of Kona, Bailiff Horatio Kwyll of the University of Magic, Brother Pietro LeClaire of Dort Abbey, Lord Chancellor Hector Anzilo, Commander Sosa of the Paladin's Order, Viceroy, Furst, and Duke Erwin von zu Dort-Billigh, General Giovanni Stacco representing the nation of Muschislie, Jacob de Besnie representing both the de Besnie clan as well as their matriarch, Lady Marie, Thain Luther Dethek of Nazareen, Mother Abeaja head of the Temple of the Mother, Lady Manyana, Director of the Imperial Scouts, Imperial Secretary Silk, and of course, Major Domos Azarin. While there were few persons physically in the room, they represented some thirty votes for Imperial Policy...and in better times, those votes might have been spread out over far more people.

In addition to the people and seats present, there were a small number empty...and properly so. The Caesar's throne was, of course, vacant, no one having touched it since Anochrim's demise, though in truth he himself sat upon it very little in life. Also empty was the Imperial Admiral's seat, one that had gone unfilled for months, as well as the representative of Nipponar, a seat that remained in the Advisory Council in ceremony only in respect for that island's fate. There was no head of the Temple of the Father at this time, and so that seat remained empty until the Temple should claim it, and there were no representatives from either Sierra or Pan's Isle, the latter of which should customarily be held by Eilish, though the daughter of Pan hadn't been seen since rumors of fighting in Pan's Isle reached the Citadel.

Collected as they were, there was precious little talking...and today, the buzz of low conversation came from the wrong source, rising up from the servants and clerks instead of the Electors. Indeed, none of the Imperial Elects seemed to be in the slightest willing to begin the session despite the appropriate time arriving and most of the panel convened. When at last one of the Electors sought to act, it was Silk, summoning one of the runners to convey his interest of taking the floor first. After all, he thought to himself, there's no need to put it off any longer.

No sooner had Silk's runner reached Anzilo than another two arrived, one from Isis, Voice of Rafao, and one from Erwin von zu Dort Billigh. Hector, clearly rather relieved that someone was willing to take the floor first, signalled the guards...white clad guards...to seal the room and leave the assembly while the Advisory Council was underway.

(OOC: Any interruptions may be interjected here as well as requests for the floor, if either of you wish it)

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let me begin by expressing my sincere apologies regarding the cancellation of our last meeting on the twenty fourth," began Hector, referring to the riots in the Outer Ring. "Let me also indicate that Palace security is, as of this moment, under the direction of the Major Domos to insure our integrity during our next, most critical decision. In accordance with the immemorable custom of the Empire, we will put aside our traditional agenda in favor of our most critical of tasks, which is to name our new Caesar. If I hear no objections from the floor, I will request Mother Abeaja to lead us in prayer before we begin..."

The customary pause for objection met with the customary answer of no objections. It was, after all, only custom...and while Hector Anzilo had a reputation to be many things, not among them was disrespect for custom. Once the opening prayer was done...a very simple matter, as most prayers to the Mother were...the Chancellor quickly took up the reigns of the Council and began it in all earnest. It should be brief, but the Gods alone know what will happen in the next ten burns...

"I call to the floor the Imperial Secretary Silk, who has requested to open our debate for the new Caesar. I caution you all to understand that no vote will be taken on this day to give you all time to consider all discussions and debates before you commit to a decision. Voting will begin on the twenty eighth, and we will have as many open calls for the Council floor as necessary to complete the deliberation. I remind you all to send all requests for the floor to me by way of runner, and you will be arranged in order of request. Secretary Silk?"

Hector didn't bother to leave his podium because he knew from experience that the Tyrant never bothered to use it. Silk was not a legendary orator, but his very person was a very striking one, especially in how he presented himself today. Midnight blue was his color, a color he had been known to favor, and today he was in his finest, with his own vestments of office around him. He rose nimbly, his aging frame still quite vigorous, and he strutted out to the floor to place himself just over the tiny, discolored piece of glass that represented the Citadel on the floor below.

"Here we are. Choosing the next Caesar," began Silk, smiling at the Electors with an almost boyish grin. Silk had watched carefully as the runners brought in requests for both Isis and Erwin to speak, and per Silk's expectations, Erwin had waited to speak after Silk for as much effect as he could have. That wasn't unexpected...but Silk had made a career out of out-maneuvering his opponents, and Erwin, regardless of how long and boring his full name was, simply wasn't in enough practice to outmaneuver the Fox.

"There have been...difficulties in our world, difficulties that require us, as the Advisors of the Empire, to come together as one...to unify in our goals and interests. At the core of our wants lies the good of the Imperial Citizen...and it has been the Imperial Citizen who has suffered worst for all the difficulties that challenge us today. I remind you all of the situation in Sabata, where our merchants are turned away by western gold. Or perhaps Pan's Isle, where fighting has already begun..." Silk did not mention the fighting in Dort, as he considered that little gem to be a fine tool to save for later. "Despite our diplomatic efforts, we must assume and accept that our world has changed irrevokeably, and that we must now live in a...polar world. The West challenges us daily, and we have even seen evidence that the Gods themselves grow troubled and pugnacious in the face of this division."

"What is needed more than ever is a Caesar. A ruler for our Empire that might bring us together, united under the cause of justice and salvation from the Western threat. Whether armies will be needed or just more diplomacy, whether we need a fresh approach to international trade or whether the Gods require some service from us, we must have a new soul to guide us not with only his mind, but with his heart as well," continued Silk, somewhat amused at how little he truly believed that last bit. It could be worse, he thought. A Caesar to be lead around by his dick would be consistent, too. "I would like to open the floor with a candidate that I think best exemplifies the qualities we require upon the throne of the Seven Isles. I would like to offer Madam Scatha Ashtir as our first Imperial candidate, a Dortese woman favored by the Kona and educated by Aurelius himself..."

Somewhere in the room, a pair of hands clenched in fists of rage. Son of a bitch. Erwin managed to keep his face straight and even despite the sudden concern he had over Silk's delivery. He's learned a few things in the last few yahren. And I've got...maybe five burns to come up with a mend, he thought, imagining just how he could mitigate the instructions he had given with this rather unexpected move from the Tyrant. Glancing over at Hector, Erwin was comforted to see that the Lord Chancellor had maintained his outward appearance of calm despite the sudden setback.

In another seat, Ina da'Yrsa scowled carefully at the Tyrant. His reputation was well-known, and his reputation was far form honorable. It was true that this...Scatha Ashtir was favored by the Kona, but for a man like Silk to present her as Caesari could only mean one thing. He has gotten to her, and he controls her now, she decided, her scowl hiding a grim face of despair for the Dortese farm girl she had met only a few days ago. She should have awaited her turn for the floor...that was custom...but instead of summoning a runner, she merely spoke out. "Favored by the Kona? You can't know this, Secretary. You can only guess, as we all guess! I know of no such favor given by the Kona..." spat the ambassador, attempting to derail the Tyrant's plans and undermine the political stability of his protege all at once.

Oh, do claw at me, savage woman, and then go back to your cave and eat salt, thought Silk, smiling as the tribeswoman more or less played into his hand perfectly even though he raised a hand to calm her and several other loyal Erwin supporters in the crowd.

(OOC: Pausing for response/interruption!)
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Post by Andolin »

Trying his best to hide behind a mask of indifference, Andolin took his seat beside the vacant throne, commiting to memory all of the names and titles that had been shared with them. Today would be the first day of his charade as a neutral party to the proceedings. As such, he told himself that he would ask for no floor time and bide his silence until the right moment. It would become clear to him when that moment arrived.

Until then, he planned to look quite interested in what anyone had to say ... as if he were trying to educate himself as to the issues at hand. He was careful to not nod in agreement with anyone. He must appear to be his own man. Ironically, he was. Silk would learn that ... too late.

For now, Andolin would be a silent observer, seeking to watch the players from the proverbial shadows. He would wait and learn.
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Post by Grant »

Another runner quickly rose, darting by Silk as the Tyrant made his way back to his seat. He didn't offer anything more, content that his public support of the Dortese farm girl would be adequate to throw Erwin's camp into something not unlike bedlam...and indeed, it hadn't missed the mark. The runner charging up to Hector announced Lady Manyana to the Chancellor, his message overheard by Andolin. Hector merely nodded and retook his position behind the podium, calling upon Isis, voice of Amun Rah next...a woman that, until recently, had been seen only briefly in the halls of the Citadel.

And for good reason. Dark, olive skin and darker, fiery eyes, Isis was breathtaking...hardly a surprise given that she was the wife and sister to Ionis. She represented a staggering four Imperial votes, as much as Erwin if not more, votes that came from her office as Ambassador to Amun Rah, Viceroy of the West, Governess to Oracle's Isle, and the defacto owner of Szeikh Hassan's vote as ambassador of the Great Desert. What was worse, she knew she was one of the more critical voices in the room, carrying herself with the authoritative grace of one rather accustomed to command.

Not that many in the room would complain. In addition to being shockingly beautiful, her graceful movements and careful, attentive poise giving her an almost aetheric quality, but she was also dressed in the customary attire of her homeland...which meant to say that she was largely naked, with thin, filmy silk covering what areas of her body that required, and only paint decorating the rest of it. And she was painted, dark lines scrawled upon her exposed flesh to accentuate it's flawless perfection...or to signify some significance.

Sitting just beside her was the Szeikh of the Great Desert, a half-giant of the desert tribes known to live in that desolate area. Szeihk Hassan was a very large man, rumored to have more giant in him than adhiel, and he was a very dark man, almost ebony in complexion. He wore a turban that, in his own curious style, sat low but spread wide around his crown, the pure, clean, white cloth of it almost gleaming against his black flesh. He was technically bare of chest, though he wore arm bracers, shoulder rings, and necklaces, all of gold, that gave him to look quite well dressed indeed. A wide, red sash surrounded his waist, and below this were wide, massive pantaloons of the same clean, white cloth that billowed out in a fashion rather common for Amun Rah.

It was almost common knowledge in the Citadel that Isis rather completely owned the Szeikh, and it was rather common knowledge how she owned him. To call the two lovers might not have been entirely accurate, given that Isis took as many lovers as she wished...monogamy was almost a nun-sequitor in Amun Rah...but she definitely insured the Szeikh's continued support for her cause through routine visits to his bed chamber, moments of which Isis had grown rather fond given the Szeikh's innovative daring in the interest of carnal delights.

"May the Sun find you all in good health," offered Isis, bowing low before the throne, which largely meant Hector and Andolin, abasing herself in a very curious way. She turned and flashed her black-lined eyes at Silk with clear, apparent contempt. "You would gamble the future of our great Empire upon the will of a farm girl? Is it well you would read so many comedies and romance novels, Secretary, but you are a great fool when it comes to the will of a nation," she declared, clearly spiteful of the Tyrant. "If we were to entrust the future of our nation to a woman, then I might consider a far better candidate...such as Lady Sosa. Or myself. Or Lady Eilish."

Isis darted her eyes around the room, and it was instantly clear to all that while she might have been shockingly lovely, she was also cunning in a way that seemed terribly dangerous. After all, beauty and cunning were a very lethal combination. "If it is the West that would threaten us, then let them know the mind of the West. We cannot fight their sun with our moon, or their water with our fire. We must know them, and we must have a leader that might speak to them in words they respect. I propose the Major Domos, Lord Azarin, to be our next Caesar..."

She leveled a finger towards Andolin, her fingernails all reaching out a full inch and having been painstakingly decorated and liquored for just such a display. There were precious few words of surprise or contradiction to her suggestion, though Sosa could feel Erwin's fingers tapping upon the arm of his chair impatiently. Things are getting out of hand. Things are getting far...too...out of hand. A Westerner cannot be Caesar.

"Are you quite finished, Isis?" murmured Hector, breaking the short silence that filled the chamber. Hector was perhaps less immune to Isis' particular charms than most men, but he was, in a word, not in the mood to be entertained by the Rafao's wife (and sister). Turning to him, Isis curtseyed low once again and loitered for some time in this rather submissive state before she rose up slowly and backed away, her eyes finding Andolin and lingering upon him as she paced back to her seat...where another pair of eyes were fixed upon the Major Domos, eyes that belonged to an eight foot, black-skinned monster that, by virtue of his understanding of Isis, knew at once that he should be jealous of Azarin...and should therefore seek some means to crush the little man.

(OOC: Another brief pause...)
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Post by Andolin »

Andolin's plan had been to observe, seem interested, remain quiet, and then ... perhaps on the third day of deliberations ... when he was nominated, he would express shock, surprise and false modety. As Isis approached the podium, it was surprisingly easy to observe her every movement. Is that clothing or is that paint?

He had never beheld her before. Beheld seemed a much more appropriate word than some more common word like seen. One did not simply see something that was so striking. Men, often in deference to women in their company, or in the formal setting that otherwise required deference, try hard not to stare at a woman such as Isis. It had been this way for hundreds of yahren, and would likely be infinite in the constant challenge between men and woman. Andolin did his best not to stare at her as she walked ... nay glided ... to the podium. He certainly would not have minded studying her etchings more closely. But his mesmorizism was brief. His sense of self-preservation was strong enough to whisper ... nay shout ... in his mind that one did not fool around with a woman like that ... with a powerful husband (and brother) and a very large and dangerous looking shiek next to her as well. The dark man looked as a Djiin must ... those mythical creatures of the desert. His eyes glanced that way, sizing up the intellect of the Shiek. If one was cunning, one was dangerous. Andolin viewed himself as cunning. He could outfox a big man, but not a big cunning man. Isis exuded cunning (and a great deal more). The Shiek ... remained to be seen.

Listening to her words, Andolin fought a smile as she criticized Scatha. Actually, the farm girl deserved greater criticism than that. Although Andolin was not qualified to ascend the throne, Scatha was a mockery. The Electors should have had a round of laughter and then moved on to the next candidate.

Shock This time it was not feigned. Andolin had not thought to be nominated so quickly. That is a mistake. I should have been nominated only after every other candidate had been withdrawn. He had to admit that Silk was being clever by introducing the girl. That had likely caused Erwin's plan some mischief. But this ... made him a primary candidate rather than a compromise candidate. In Andolin's mind, that likely doomed his chances unless Silk had the votes in hand. He wanted to look at Silk in a questioning way, but that would have surely doomed him. No, he needed to look at shock at Isis ... with a hint of false modesty. Then, he needed to look at Erwin with surprise. One always looked to their patron first. Let others think that he was Erwin's real pick, just for a moment if nothing else. It would make sense that Erwin would float a fool first and then nominate a real candidate later.

For a rare moment, Andolin was speechless. He watched the return walk of Isis with a brief bewildered look, and then tried to render an enigmatic look on his face. He needed to hide behind a mask while he plotted what to say. He knew one thing -- he would not prefer to be the next one to speak. Let Silk send someone forward to support or oppose him. He was fairly certain that Erwin would oppose him. If I am not defeated at once, Erwin will visit me, or send an emissary to meet with me within a mark. That is what a true schemer would do. Erwin and he had met before when Erwin was on his sick bed and being tended by Lady Rioja. Surely, that brief meeting had not been an unpleasant one. The Duke would need to know how much Andolin was in Silk's pocket. Curiously, Andolin would appear to be more of a puppet than he planned to be. One should not expect to tame a fox and expect him to perform tricks for the amusement of others ... unless it is in the interest of the fox to do so.
Last edited by Andolin on Sat Mar 04, 2006 7:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Grant »

It wasn't the first problem that ever challenged the Viceroy, but it certainly was a challenge. Beneath the surface, a strange dynamic had just begun. Technically, Silk was a fish of a very strange sort. His position in the Advisory Council was tenuous at best, holding an official title limited to Secretary of the Empire. Like many institutional positions, it was a transient, unstable elector seat...but it was still valid. And it still gave Silk's candidate validity, though many in the chamber would consider the source of the candidate. Erwin had considered Scatha's candidacy to come from him, which would have been from the seat of a Viceroy.

Instead, Silk had presented Scatha...and Isis had presented Andolin Azarin. That was...unexpected, and rather well done, either by fate or design. Now it was Andolin who represented a Viceroy candidate...Isis was the voice of Rafao Ionis himself, the Viceroy of the East...and that gave the Lord Chamberlain far more credit were the votes more equal. It could matter...possibly giving Andolin the edge for just that moment. That left Erwin very little in the way of choices. He had to stand up and support Silk's candidate. After all, Scatha was actually his candidate, wasn't she?

Indeed, Hector called upon Erwin to speak next, as Erwin had reserved the floor next...and it was genuinely impossible for the Lord Chancellor to refuse his request even if Anzilo were bent to do so. Standing up, Erwin paced forward, only as far as Dort upon the tiled mosaic on the floor, and turned to take in the hall behind him. "A farm girl from Dort. And one that might be favored by the Kona..." Erwin slipped a glance towards the Trothgardian Ambassador for a brief moment, as if daring her to interrupt him. "A rather ridiculous plan...but I find merit in it. Consider this, fellow Advisors. What are we seeking in a ruler? Why do we even need a Caesari?"

"The reason...is leadership. Not rulership, which we frankly do not need...but leadership. Leadership is that which unites and motivates the people. The Empire is in good hands even now..." that wasn't entirely true, and virtually all in the Council knew it "...but the people need someone...we need someone...to be the center of our efforts. The focus of our continued survival and independence. Indeed, I do feel that our little farm girl from Dort is perhaps the best choice for us now. She will gather to her all the hopes of the people, and she will ignite passion in them in a way only such a person might. I support the Secretary's candidate. Let his...Dortese farm girl warm the throne for the Empire and lead us against the West...and let her leave the task of rulership to us."

It just wasn't all that great, but it was adequate. Isis seemed perhaps disappointed, an expression that came off more as pouty and neglected and one that was certainly designed to affect every man in the room. But it was no man that took the floor after Erwin. No sooner had he turned to reclaim his seat but Manyana, the Scout Director, rose and glanced over at Hector, waiting to be recognized before she spoke despite already moving towards the center of the floor mosaic.

"We've heard from both Viceroys, and we've heard from the Secretary. But..." it was instantly clear that Manyana was both uncomfortable and very poor at public spokesmanship. "...I want you to consider the source of their candidates. All mean well, but my organization has collected some very disturbing information from across the continents." Manyana paused her for a moment here, glancing up and around her with every show of discomfort. "The truth is that we're already in a struggle with the West, and we're losing. Already, our agents disappear or are turned away from most Western locations...among them Sabata...and already Western agents have been seen as far as Pan's Isle and Dort. For now, this war has been a cold one, and it's being fought not on the battlefields, but on the negotiation tables."

"But there's more," continued Manyana quickly, clearly unwise to the tricks of effective pausing during public presentations. "It is my belief that, at this time, if open war should come with the West, we would be defeated in a matter of weeks..." a low murmur spread over the chamber "...and we would be occupied by forces far superior. Better trained, better equipped, better positioned...and shockingly mobile, with or without portals. I want you all to remember that the west has more battlemages, soldiers, and fleets than we've ever had, and we've seen a very powerful example of Western power in our own very harbor...with the arrival of the Madrigal."

The airship had indeed been cause for quite a stir in the Citadel. As sea-going vessels went, it was quite small...hardly large enough to house an effective fighting force...but the military airships...the infamous Air Frigates...were rumored to be the size of a small city. Certainly those rumors were properly exaggerated, but it was no great surprise if the Air Frigates were indeed of a more ominous scale.

"For this reason, I caution you all. A leader upon the throne might very well lead the fighting men and women of the Empire against the West...this new Caesari might unite us and take us into battle...but she'll only lead us to a slaughter. What we need is more time...and that means diplomacy." Manyana turned and glanced at Andolin. "Azarin could buy us that time. A rumored Westerner as Caesar...a western diplomat...could bring King Balthasar to the negotiation tables, and even if we've no intentions to compromise to His Majesty, we need the time he could buy. I strongly advise you all to consider upon this, for when the fighting starts...we must be ready, or we'll be dead. The Imperial Scouts strongly support the Lord Chamberlain."

Hector Anzilo frowned slightly. The Director of the Imperial Scouts just threw in her support for Azarin, and she did so for perfectly realistic reasons. Still, he couldn't help but form his own plan to pin Azarin. After all, there was one way in which Hector Anzilo could always read a man...and that was in his own presentation. "Thank you, Director Manyana," he murmured as the little woman retreated back to her chair. If I can put him on the floor, a lot could happen. "Given that we've two very real and supported candidates, perhaps we should hear from them? I realize that this...Lady Scatha is...not present at current, so we should hear from her at a later time. But Lord Azarin is just at hand. Lord Azarin, will you take the floor and speak to the assembly?" asked Hector, a direct challenge as he turned to gaze over at Andolin over his small, square-cut reading lenses.
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Post by Andolin »

It was no surprise that Erwin backed the farm girl. The appeal to populism certainly rang hollow with Andolin. Would the populace of the Empire truly feel better and more well represented by having an ignorant, though pretty, farm girl on the throne? No, it would spark attempts at separation from the Empire. It would be seen as a sign of weakness. It would make the member nations the laughing stock of the civilized world. Other than that, however, it was a great idea. Yet, it was not Andolin’s strategy to attack Scatha’s candidacy. No, he needed to maneuver his own candidacy.

As Manyana spoke of the imminent defeat of the Empire, it made Andolin reassess how badly he wished to be Caesar. Only a madman would want to trade one’s power to become Caesar at this dark moment. Frankly, the life expectancy was not encouraging, and Andolin was rather fond of his own life. Still, becoming Caesar was one of the things that he had promised himself, if not Isabella. What would Isabella think if she saw him now, on the brink of becoming Caesar? She would be proud, but might she not have advised against it? There was no one for him to turn to for honest advice anymore. Would he find another confidante?

Slowly getting to his feet, at Hector’s urging, Andolin moved to the podium to speak. He composed his thoughts as he walked, sparing glances towards the various electors as he went.

“Council members. Fellow delegates.” He nodded politely at each with his sweeping gaze. “This is the time that you might expect a candidate to stand before you and tell you how honored they are to be nominated and to try and convince you why they are the right candidate. Instead, I am here to state my gratitude at being mentioned by such worthy lips,” he looked at Isis and Manyana in particular, “but I am not here to convince you of my candidacy. In fact, I suspect that I would be happier if you did not select me.” He paused a moment to let that sink in for effect.

“Our illustrious leader of the Imperial Scouts has spoken bluntly, so let me do so too. The Empire is in crisis – more ways than one. My current position as Lord Chamberlain is difficult enough trying to arrange the defense of the world’s greatest fortress when it is invaded by demons from below and threatened from above by these rumored airships from the west. The fortress would hold forever from a conventional assault, but we are not facing a conventional attack. Not only could this Citadel be starved into submission by an effective siege and blockade, but if airships and magic could drop fire upon us from above, our only hope would be to burrow into the depths of the Citadel as the dwarves are reputed to do in Nazareen. We would need to develop weapons quickly that could counter this new technology.” He paused again to let his assessment of the defenses of the palace sink in to those who resided there.

“Now, what about the position of Caesar? It is a position of little power. The true power lies in the hands of the Imperial Council. The new Caesar has to look forward to ruling in name over an Empire that is still far from being unified. The power of the West will likely overpower us in a month or two. The new Caesar, though lacking in true power, will be expected to negotiate surrender and go into either prison or exile, assuming one could retain one’s life in such a war. Who would want this position?” he asked rhetorically. “Perhaps Secretary Silk’s suggestion is the best. Choose a farm girl who is so naïve that she has not a clue what an untenable position she is in. Let her plan farm dances in naïve bliss while the Empire is in flames. Yet, with due respect to Secretary Silk, perhaps we would be better off having an empty throne and using that to explain why we need more time to select a Caesar before negotiating with the West. Sadly, I do not expect the West to afford us this luxury.”

“What about me? I am an unusual choice. It is true that the Azarin family has ties in World’s Mouth; but, I assure you that I have never been there that I can recall. I do not even have the benefit of knowing my parents. The last Duke has been gone for many years and is presumably dead. The nobility do not hold true power in World’s Mouth. Rather, it is a collective of merchants that do. So, my connection with the West is tenuous at best. My life and heart lie, instead, here in the Empire. I do not know whether King Balthasar would credit my roots or not in affording greater flexibility.”

“I am content as Lord Chamberlain. I am happy to devise the defenses of the greatest structure in the Empire. Frankly, I may hold greater power as Chamberlain than I would as Caesar.” He permitted himself a small chuckle. “Yet, even the gloomy truth does not convince me the Empire is doomed. It is not. We need time, and we need unity. If we have both, we may be able to surprise the skeptics.” He knew that the delegates would need a note of optimism to support any candidate.

“I have ideas for gaining us more time. For one, I suggest our new Caesar marry a prominent Westerner. Sadly, there is no princess of Balthasar’s house. If we had a Caesari, she could marry Balthasar and that would grant us time. Sadly, I believe that many would view that as Balthasar having conquered the Empire peacefully. Once Balthasar was Caesar, even with the limitations placed on the throne, it would be difficult to prevent him from seizing true power in the Empire. No, it is better to have a Caesar who could marry someone close to Balthasar in the hopes of attaining a peace that would grant us time to build. The Caesar has the right to take many wives, of course, and I think this could also aid our own internal unity. Let the Caesar take a wife from each of our islands in a show of unity for Imperial citizens, rather than elevate a farm girl in the hopes of appealing to a discreet portion of the peasant population.” The idea of having many wives, especially one like Isis, had its own appeal to Andolin.

“My fellow electors, we should select a Caesar with a vision for a way to unify us and strengthen us. Let him work with the Council to devise appropriate strategies. If you want a weakling who is content to plan floral arrangements than steps designed to aid the Empire, then you do not want me. If you want a puppet of the Council, whose mission is to smile and do what he is told, then let us send for the farm girl at once.”

“I am foolish enough to accept nomination as Caesar; but, not to be a smiling puppet. If I am Caesar, the Council will still retain the true power, but I expect also that Caesar will be a partner with them, with a real voice. A Caesar needs to have power over the military, and to make Imperial appointments. I have no desire to govern the Empire. The Council does a better job at that. But, if my neck is going to be placed on the chopping block of a Western headsman as Caesar, then by the Gods, I want a small share in the power to help make a difference. Which man or woman here would like to step up here and surrender their power to become some Imperial lackey whose life is not their own and to await a dark ending not of their own making? Only a madman or madwoman would find such a prospect tempting,” he proclaimed while keeping strict eye contact with his audience.

“If you want me to do it, I will. The Empire is my home and I would fight to defend it. But, my fellow electors, do not send me into a fight with my hands and legs tied. Grant me temporary authority during this crisis to help shape the military, make Imperial appointments, and to negotiate Imperial marriages for the throne. This is little more power than I have or share now, at least here in the Citadel. If not, then one of you step forward. You can have my vote. Then we can end this business and I can return to the business of strengthening the Citadel with what little time remains.” He gave each a challenging look and awaited a response.

OOC~ edits to correct typos.
Last edited by Andolin on Mon Mar 13, 2006 7:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Grant »

Wonderful. Now all I must do is plant my own seed of control, thought Isis, Voice of Rafao.

Indeed, she had been watching Andolin closely since he first entered the chamber, though she had been doing so in the typical fashion of any motivated woman. Never for a moment would she turn to actually face the Major Domos, but she attended to him all the same. He might just become the next Caesar...and that would suit Isis just fine so long as she managed to put her own agent in his bed chamber. And she had just the plant for that kind of work...

How DARE the Duke interfere with me? she recalled, glancing over to where Erwin gazed down at the floor, a finger to his teeth and his expression one of deep thought and consideration during Andolin's speech. Isis had secured the Elector Seat of Oracle's Isle merely by being present, a nice effect of her position as Viceroy of that island, and she had secured the Sheik's vote by visiting his bed chamber herself...a very arduous process given the Sheik's rather lurid tastes and breath taking dimensions, but one she grew to anticipate and enjoy as much as the Sheik. That gave her four votes, but the Duke had already sought to erode her control, begging Ionis to send one of his most prized slaves to court to sway the Sheik's attentions.

Isis had been more clever by far. She had intercepted the girl as she entered the Citadel...the Vizier had managed that...and after a little suffering, she would be ready to do anything to secure Isis' favor...and that would indeed include seducing and keeping the Major Domos in a lovely little box and, in time, manipulating him...or ending him, if the situation required. After all, rumors of this Azarin's appetites were rampant. Oh, they weren't quite as overt or astonishing as the rumors surrounding Isis herself, but...there were rumors.

This way, I can keep the great Sheik all to myself...and keep my votes...and place someone close to the next Caesar. Yes, you will rule...in so much as any man truly rules, she smiled, casting her dark, penetrating eyes over Andolin as he completed his speech. Indeed, she would have enjoyed seducing the Major Domos himself...he was far more attractive than the Sheik...but that would have been far too visible, and she couldn't take on any more lovers. She simply didn't have the time...

Hector nodded to Andolin as the Major Domos moved to retake his seat. Like most of the chamber, he had been silent and introspective during the delivery, a rather good sign considering the audience and the topic. "Will no one else address the floor at this time?" barked Hector, uncertain just what had happened in the last half mark. He began to detect the very real possibility that Andolin and Silk weren't as closely associated as he thought. Indeed, there was something going on in the background...and being the Lord Chancellor, Hector was perfectly equipped to find out just what. "If I have no further requests to speak, then I'll adjourn the Council meeting for deliberations until...Samheen 28th, Tradetide..."

Motioning towards one of the guards at the far end of the hall, Hector Anzilo officially ended the first Advisory Council meeting after the death of Caesar Anochrim, the moment marked by three strikes of a halberd upon the mosaic Eastern Empire underfoot. Bang! Bang! Bang!

And with that, the official meeting was over...but the unofficial meeting would begin. This was the moment in which the Inner Circle used to truly rule...a moment in which loose conversation truly did become majorities and policy.
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Post by Andolin »

It had been a pretty speech, or so Andolin credited. The fact that he often impressed himself was something that would likely surprise someone who really knew him. He was anxious to know what others had thought of it. Erwin was looking at the floor picking his teeth. At least he was not throwing murderous looks. Silk was inscrutible, but hopefully he was impressed with the way Andolin sought to convince the audience that he was his own man. Isis ... well, she was looking at him ... in an almost predatory way. He gave her a small smile in return. The rest seemed to be withholding their reaction. Andolin was a man who could read minds. Sadly, he dare not risk it here. No, he would rely on his own instincts for the moment.

When the meeting was adjourned, Andolin did not seek out one of the Viceroys, nor Silk. That would be a sign of weakness. No, he sought out another person who might be key to him ... Sosa. There was little love between them, but they really did not know or interact with each other very much.

With nods to those he passed, Andolin approached the female paladin of Illuminatus and inquired, "I wonder whether I might have a word with you in private."
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Post by Sosa »

Sosa looked at Andolin, her face showing none of the things she might have felt. Life in court had taught het well...

So there was no suspicion, no aversion, just a cold businesslike nod.
"I think I still have chambers here, though not for long I am sure" She said with a grim humour and motioned for Andolin to follow her.
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Post by Andolin »

Appearing as nonchalant as possible, Andolin began to follow the paladin out of the chamber, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do so. There were no furtive glances left and right that might signal that he was up to mischief. Instead, he followed along to see where she might be leading him. Since she mentioned her chambers, he assumed they might be headed that way.

"Your chambers may be watched," he observed quietly. "Perhaps we should use Caesar's study to speak?"
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Post by Sosa »

Sosa shrugged
"My rooms are probably watched, but I am pretty sure nothing has been changed inside them" She gave him a look promising much harm to anyone messing within her room.
"And the Caesars rooms are watched for sure, but I do not mind"

She halted, waiting for Andolin to decide where to go.
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Post by Andolin »

"Caesar's apartment will be watched from outside, but I do not think anyone will be listening," he offered, though he was willing to try her room if she insisted. He would need to be extra careful in what he said.

As they walked towards Anochrim's rooms, "I hope you will forgive me if I speak ... carefully. This is a time of great stress on the Empire, as you know."

Waving the guards aside, this being his Citadel now, Andolin led Sosa into the recesses of the study. He knew there was a secret passage to this room, but he could not imagine a mortal that would risk his life in those passageways to eavesdrop.

Once they had arrived and Andolin looked about cautiously, he assumed a low voice and uttered, "I know that we have not had an opportunity to discuss things after so many unfortunate happenings. Whether you recognize it or not, Caesar Anochrim was very kind to me and I would not be where I am without him. Whatever you may think of me, I am not a man who forgets a favor ... or a slight."

"I know that you were loyal to him as well, even though there were darn few of us at the end. Now that he is gone, and so is Marius, the whole Inner Circle is reforming and the palace politics are changing. The Purple Guard has done rash things, but I do not blame you personally. I am hoping to see what can be salvaged out of the darkness that has befallen us of late. Demons and assassins walk the corridors of the palace while the West gains in strength. You heard my speech back there. What I want to know is whether we can work together." It was a longwinded way to ask a simple question, but it was Andolin's nature to intrigue his listener however he might.
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Post by Grant »

Skillzd!

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