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Post by aspenivan on Oct 18, 2014 6:10:56 GMT
After dismissing the tactless Lord Carawyn, the Vizier of the North was in a bit of a sour mood. He considered ending the season's open audience, but decided against it since it was so still early in the afternoon, after all.
"Next!" he announced with a wave of his hand. Then came the booms of huge boots against the marble floor ahead, and finally the appearance of Thane Gudrik, standing over twice the height of the nearby Byrnian Guard soldiers. Seldu's eyes widened ever so slightly at the entrance of the giant into the throne room. He was an impressive figure, especially in his fine cloak and armor.
"Welcome, Thane Gudrik of the Jotun Clans. What brings you to my Court this fine day?"
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 18, 2014 6:30:41 GMT
Gudrik aproached to a reasonable distance and then bowed to the Vizier. "I was in the area on business when I heard news of the recent proclamation regarding the wastelanders. I have taken it into my mind to Ask my brother to allow me to raise a force for an expedition next season." The thane was grinning at the thought of an enemy he wouldn't have to handle with kit gloves and offer terms to. "As such I would like to request that a scribe be made available to the expedition. Not only to not and verify the numbers of the defeated and the locations of the villages, but to help smooth our way through the lands of the other vassals. Since no matter where we land we will be forced to move through land under their control. I thought an imperial scribe accompanying the expedition would assure the other rulers of my intentions. It would be.. unfortunate if we were mistaken for an invasion or something of that ilk."
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 18, 2014 18:24:19 GMT
The petition was perfectly reasonable. But Vizier Ishui had a modification in mind which he hoped could make the arrangement even better.
"You will have your scribe for the duration of your campaign," he began. "You will also have one of my resident Surv-Akur commanders, who is eager to see battle in the Wastelands although his Majesty the Sword has not yet ordered a full attack. General Stae Pjjokhat will accompany you with a squadron of light galleys. Is this acceptable?"
The fact of the matter was that the Court of New Byrnis was too full of bickering generals, and it would do the Vizier well to have at least the most hot-headed away for a few seasons. And he couldn't think of any better company for Pjjokhat than the proud warriors of the Jotun Clans. Even better, if the General and the Thane got along as famously as he hoped, it could be a springboard for future projects with the giants. Seldu already had some ideas in mind.
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 18, 2014 22:20:00 GMT
"Of course. Though in what capacity will he be joining? Simply as an observer or will he be leading his own contingent?" The idea of a minder irked him a bit, but he'd expected it from the scribe. An imperial commander might try to take over the expedition entirely.
"Which campaigns has the commander served in? I would like to to know the quality of the man I'll be traveling with." He really wanted to know if he was getting a green boy fresh out of some academy who's hand he'd have to hold.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 19, 2014 0:24:26 GMT
"A well-decorated veteran of the post-Esharan wars of conquest," the Vizier noted. "He will have a small contingent of cavalry and horse artillery: It wouldn't do for a proud Surv-Akur commander not to participate in the fighting. However, I will officially delegate authority over him to you, Thane Gudrik. Use him as you see fit."
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 19, 2014 0:46:06 GMT
"I shall be glad to have him along." Gudrik grinned with full force once more. "Intend to return here at the beginning of next season to rendezvous with the general's galleys. It will be up to your scribe if he wishes to travel with the general or on one of my longships. I thank you greatly for your time my lord, I must beg your leave to go and make the necessary preparations." He gave another deep bow. "I shall be glad to pass your good will to my brother on my return."
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 19, 2014 22:23:16 GMT
"Excellent!" the Vizier let out cheerfully. He was happy to conclude a hearing so promptly and on such friendly terms. "Fare ye well, noble Thane Gudrik. I will send for General Pjjokhat immediately."
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Summary:
For the duration of their campaign against the Northwestern Wasteland Orcs, Jotun Clan expeditionary force will have at its disposal...
-- Imperial Scribe Aegir Tabaris (minor character, gives force diplomatic immunity in other vassals' lands)
-- General Stae Pjjokhat (Surv-Akur General Retinue; trait: Experienced hothead - increased morale and ferocity in combat, may act against orders)
-- 1 Galiot Squadron
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Post by talis on Oct 26, 2014 15:27:50 GMT
It was quite unusual for the Firetooth to send petitioners to the Vizier of the north, and still rarer for Elder Urag to ever leave Thundercrown. The opportunity to host a grand tournament, however, was worth the trip. Few of the empire's vassals were as warlike as the Firetooth, nor their realms as splendid. A tournament would hearten them and give many orcs the chance to show their metal with gun and blade. It was for that reason that the wizened elder Urag had taken the long trip as fast as his old frame would allow, and now waited patiently in the Vizier's antechamber.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 26, 2014 21:25:10 GMT
Now this was a surprise. In all his years, Ishui Seldu had had only a few encounters with Firetooth elders, and never with one as a petitioner in his Court. He remembered his brother, Gaunu, had been quite the admirer of Firetooth culture as Vizier of Diplomacy under Yvor. Seldu not as much, and now even less that it brought back such memories. Gaunu, master of histories and languages, should have been sitting in this seat greeting the orcish noble. Not some old former Vizier of Infrastructure who had trained himself with the tomes and journals of his dead twin brother.
"It is a rare honor to receive an Elder of the Firetooth Clans in my Court," the still-living Ishui stated rather flatly. "I hope you are here on the business of the Tournament or some other domestic matter, and that the Frontier is ever safe under the watchful eyes of the Guardians." If the other Ishui had been here, he probably would have been able to ask about the harvest, honor an orcish hero's birth-day, and offer a clever acknowledgment on the Elder's noble House. But this was the best Seldu could manage.
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Post by talis on Oct 26, 2014 23:11:48 GMT
"The frontier is safe." Urag answered, bowing gently to the vizier. He was old enough that he preferred to move slowly when the luxury was available. "Every day our defenses against the wastelanders grow stronger. But as you have divined, I am here on other business."
"My people have heard that you plan on convening a martial tournament. I am here to inform you that we would be honored to host this tournament in Thundercrown. Our clan hosts a great number of warriors eager to prove their skill with blade and gun, and it would hearten our warriors to see their champions in the ring. We in the Council of Elders have agreed to sponsor a bard (Artist Retinue) to commemorate the event if you consent to hosting it in Thundercrown."
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 27, 2014 5:56:13 GMT
"A fine bid indeed," Vizier Seldu mused aloud. Of course, the Firetooth Clans were the obvious choice to host the tournament: Their temple was renowned for its beauty, and their buffalo hunting grounds would bring excellent food, furs, and hides. By comparison, even the proud Republic of Juturna and the half-Survaekom crown of Elon had little to offer. But perhaps, if given the chance, one of the two proper human civilizations in the region would get its act together and propose something to rival the orcs.
"I am gladdened to hear your petition," he began. "However, out of fairness for your honorable neighbors who may have proposals of their own, I must leave your petition pending for the time being. You will have a final answer before the New Year, noble Elder Urag."
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-- The Vizier of the North postpones his decision on the Firetooth petition to allow the other border states the opportunity to make their own bids.
-- The Vizier will make his final decision before the New Year (Turn 9); if no others have made a bid by then, the honor of hosting will go to the Firetooth Clans by default.
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Post by missmilkmaid on Oct 27, 2014 19:14:42 GMT
As King Azlyn’s cousin, Alan Sarvro was in line to inherit the throne of Elon. Or, at least, he would be until his cousin produced a male heir, which, if rumors were true would be before the beginning of next summer. Alan hoped Queen Chello did have a boy, because he had no interest in becoming king. His father was regent over Ayvon village and Alan preferred the country life, amid the vineyards and golden fields of wheat to a life of castle politics.
Five years ago, his father had sent him south to learn the Surveakan language and study at one of the Imperial universities and he’d hated every moment of it. His soul was bound to the golden fields, crashing waves and wide skies of the north. He loved nothing more than to race horses over the hills and laugh with the children shepherding goats over bubbling brooks.
Nonetheless, he’d done well in his studies abroad and had only returned a year ago. The Queen had taken a liking to him, trusting his advise and even sending him books in hopes that he would continue his studies. She’d mentioned something about wanting to establish a library and a center of study and seemed to have it in her head that Alan would be the perfect man to shoulder this project. He’d flipped through the books and said he would take it all into consideration, but he didn’t feel that the life of a scholar was the duty Aed intended for him.
Sunshine and wind ran through his veins. Alan wanted to ride far from civilization and live with only the stars looking over him. He wanted to learn, yes, but he hoped to do so through exploration and observation of the wide and wild world. Given the opportunity, Alan would gladly ride west across the wastelands and never turn back. With only his horse and his wits he’d do and see something new every day for the rest of his life and be happy.
At twenty years old, Alan was nearly of an age with his cousin, King Azlyn and he bore a similar appearance, extraordinarily tall for a human, with skin bronzed brown by sunshine and dark curly hair. He didn’t have Azlyn’s green eyes, but his brown ones had long lashes and a deep thoughtful look about them, which made him seem older than he was.
He’d ridden to New Byrnis on a bold roan stallion, traveling long and hard all day, but it seemed to take little toll upon him. After a good wash and changing into a fresh set of his finest clothes, (a tunic dyed deep green and red,) he looked as rested and handsome as any young man could hope to be. Adjusting the ring with his family crest upon it, so it wouldn’t fit so loose on his long thin fingers, Alan tucked his letter of introduction from the Queen into his tunic and made his way to court of the Vizier.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 28, 2014 2:26:23 GMT
Vizier Seldu smiled as one of his guards announced the entry of the next petitioner. Well I'll be damned, they're here already! he thought as he watched a tall, muscular Byrnian escort the equally strong-built Alan Sarvro. Seldu was hoping that the messenger would have a decent proposal to counter the Firetooth's, but he wasn't sure exactly what to think of the young man. He had the features and dress of a rustic northerner, obviously close kin to Azlyn and bred more for farming and riding than higher civilization. But the message he carried was no doubt the work of Queen Chello, a woman raised in the Arkhaer elite and educated accordingly.
"Welcome, noble Alan Sarvro of Elon," the elderly but ever well-poised Byrnian greeted. "It is a pleasure and an honor to receive you in my court. I pray, Aed willing, that your business here is about the tournament or other domestic affairs, and not about any troubles on the border."
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Post by missmilkmaid on Oct 28, 2014 3:37:37 GMT
Alan approached with the boldness of youth, but the respect of good upbringing and educated genteelness. When he spoke it was in Surveakan. While his accent strongly Elonese, his pronunciation and grammar were good and his manners more than acceptable.
He bowed with respect and a tad of flourish, allowing his red cloak to be thrown over one shoulder. “Your prayers are answered, Lord Vizier. As of yet, Elon has encountered no hostilities from the wastelands, but our guards and scouts remain ever vigilante in the name of the empire.”
“I have indeed been sent to petition Your Grace for the honor of hosting the grand tournament. I bring this letter written by her majesty, Queen Chello and speak on her behalf and on the behalf of King Azlyn.” He took out the letter and passed it on to the Vizier.
“As you know, my Lord, Elon has long been a pound and faithful servant of Aed and our nation is known for its hospitality and generosity throughout the north. The Elonese people burn with loyal passion for the Sword of their faith in a way few other nations do. Host your tournament on Elon’s shores and not only will you find the warm ocean zephyrs, shining white cliffs and gold-crested waves of our fair county, but the songs and open arms of our spirited and loyal nation. It is my Queen’s hope to raise funds for a monument in the city’s square, but I ask you, my lord Vizier, can fine castles and the flattery of practiced courtiers compare with the natural glory of Nature’s grandeur, or the honest love of the faithful that can be found in Dovwynn City?”
There was a wild poetry in the way Alan described his homeland, it betrayed a deep-rooted love of life, home and the simple joys of a beautiful sunset or sweet wind across and open field. The Elonese were known for their passion and clearly Alan was an example of such. His manners and good education simply enable the wild rusticity of his nature to be more eloquently expressed.
The letter from the queen was tame in comparison. Chello addressed it with all the proper tittles and due respect that could be expected from a lady educated as well as she. She spoke in greater detail of the improvements she’d made in the city and her hopes to construct a grand monument in the city square in the near future.
She also pointed out Elon’s loyalty and devotion to both the church and state, but it was obvious under her words and good manners that, compared to the Firetooth Clan, Elon did not have as much of the funds, or city development needed to prepare for the tournament.
She did make one argument that Alan had left out, which was that out of the three nations on the borderland, Elon would be the easiest for the other Kingdoms to access. Dovwynn was well situated on both the coast and the river and closer than either Jutura or Firetooth to the majority of the northern vassals. Also, the large city of the Karmozijn Kerk Mission was close at hand and those who journeyed to Dovwynn for the tournament would have the opportunity to pay their respects to the great northern temples of the Veakirate.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 28, 2014 4:20:06 GMT
The Vizier rather enjoyed the boy's poetic ramblings, although he did not take them very seriously. To hear Survaekom spoken artfully by a Northern dignitary was a rare treat in Ishui Seldu's grand sessions, but not a sign of confidence on the part of the dignitary himself. Seldu was more impressed by Queen Chello's written words: Practical, rational, and demonstrative of vassal honor. As much as Thundercrown was a far more prestigious city than Dovwynn, that the Elonese queen would devote her struggling treasury to a monument was a greater commitment than the wealthy Firetooth Clans' summon of a bard.
"House Christallo has my deepest sentiments of appreciation for its most generous, well-worded petition," the Vizier of the North replied warmly after allowing Alan to speak at length. "Your liege, the noble King Azyln Christallo, will have my decision before the dawn of the New Year." More accurately, the message would probably reach Queen Chello first, but the primacy of the King as vassal-lord had to be acknowledged.
"If you have no other matters to bring before me, please allow my servants to escort you to the palace apartments. They have already prepared a room for you to rest the night before recommencing your long journey home."
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