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Post by lloydturquoise on Jun 30, 2017 19:02:04 GMT
((Turn 0))
Year 93 of the reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
Long may he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy.
- The Varakeisari's health continues to wane. Continue to ignore rumors of his imperial majesty's death. YOU WILL BE INFORMED BY THIS DISPATCH ONLY.
- In the genuine event of his majesty's death (Long may he reign), you have been granted permission from the Imperial Bureau to execute up to five slaves, if need be. Cost of loss will not be covered by the treasury. The dynasty and the bureau wish to remind you that lacking officials and lords in an upcoming time of trial will be punished severely.
- Kevennys Miknaviro has crossed the border and returns from Kaersch. If your jurisdiction is on his route, we expect you to provide all luxuries and aid to his highness and his retinue.
- The Bureaucracy has dispatched investigators into the arts district of Saarsipa-La, to address concerns of dilapidation of fortifications and defences. Relevant Subetmen are to assist and cooperate in any way they can.
- The Second-Consort of the Varakeisari wishes to thank all those who dispatched concerns and gifts to the dynasty in his majesties ailing health. Dydor will welcome you smiling.
Saying of the dispatch"Dydor watches over the vigilant and takes in the wary"
Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking.
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Post by lloydturquoise on Jul 7, 2017 19:12:30 GMT
((Turn 1)) Year 93 of the Reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
Long may he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy.
- Our beloved Varakeisari, despite his health. Organises and dictates the renovations to the imperial palace in Saarsipa-La. He does so from his chambers and the architects and subetmen attending, comment on how prudent and sound of mind he is. Continue to ignore rumors of his imperial majesty's death. YOU WILL BE INFORMED BY THIS DISPATCH ONLY.
- Kevennys Miknaviro has returned to Saarsipa-La. The dynasty would like to give their appreciation to the subetmen and lords on his travels who gave due aid and guidance.
- The Imperial Bureaucracy would like to congratulate the promotion of Kommentajas Kaskil Yasuunak to field commander. He will soon depart to join the Southern Myrskitovaki, who now have an able and dignified commander to lead them again. His ancestral sword will soon sing in the smoke.
- Works begin in Saar and Paavur to develop irrigation and defences. Relevant subetmen who have not received their obligations will find theirs attached to this dispatch.
- The impetuous subetman and collaborators, responsible for a raid on a Kalmar diplomatic mission travelling towards the Devil-Usurpers kingdom, have been executed by head-staking. Your incompetence and brashness makes the Varakeisari and the dynasty look weak. We are Dydor's hands, but Dydor knows restraint.
Saying of the dispatch
"The greatest armies can be felled, if led by the weakest mind" Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking. |
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Post by lloydturquoise on Jul 15, 2017 21:38:37 GMT
Peridot Plaza
Saarspia-La
Viikhalakan Empire
93 year of the reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
"Your highness, his majesty is meeting with his planners at the moment" A domestic servant followed after Mikhnaviro as he walked through the corridors of the imperial residences. The Kevennys looked out of the windows that glided past him, seeing the Moonstone Palace with it's scaffolds and busied workers.
Within the corridor, clerks and subetmen bowed and removed hats for him. Sunlight slipped across the navy and burgundy carpets and shining off of badges and sashes of office. Mikhnaviro noticed the attention of one or two, but they were retinues of his fathers, and their service was to Varakeisari before Kevennys. Of the kommentajas he came across, he could must memories of them from his adolescence.
Father came to the Peridot Plaza to do business and administration, so having the dynasty moved here whilst the Moonstone Palace was renovated was a particular friction between two sides of imperial life.
As the corridor ended and a hall began, heavy tapestries dangled from the ceiling, dividing the hall into sections. The tapestries were inlaid with images and scriptures, of Dydorist and Viikhalakan history. Within each division of the hall, were placed fine seating and furniture. In the first section, it was filled with kommentajas of various folds and divisions. He recognised a few, but they all recognised him.
Those that had been lounging had stood up from their seats and bowed to him as well as the ladies and the retainers. They could comfortably part to make room for Mikhnaviro, as he walked between two chaincoats standing at an opening of the tapestry.
The second section came to him with a thud against his hip and a wrapping of arms around his shoulders. Mikhnaviro blurted an oomph with his smile, knowing the two embracing him very well.
"We missed you father" his daughter, Miisha said, her arms holding onto his waist. "We heard news that you had done well with the Kaerscheans" his son, Dashirkaan almost shouted into his father's ear in excitement.
On a lounger he saw his wife, who smiled the warm smile he'd longed to see for a while. A pair of servants and a subetman stood to the sides, with a lit brazier warming the furniture surrounding it.
"It's only been a few months, and yet you've both grown up so much" Dashirkaan had since he'd left, attained the jacket badges of a chaincoat and the sash of a subetman, yet he was only sixteen years old this year. Miisha was ten and her face looked more and more like his grandmother's, though the long blonde hair no doubt helped in that regard too.
"Have you both been good for your mother?" Mikhnaviro grinned as he pulled his arms around his children. "I have, but Dash let one of the horses out into the gardens" Miisha grassed up on her elder brother.
"She's making it sound worse than it actually was" Dashirkaan defended himself and beamed daggers at his sister.
"Is that so?" Mikhnaviro said.
"Your son was with a few of the younger chaincoats and had been drinking in the imperial stables and a horse escaped into the gardens" His wife, Yuuna explained as she rose from the couch.
"Well, it isn't that catastrophic if they brought it in themselves" Mikhnaviro looked to his son with a smile.
"They were found asleep in the morning by the fountains with the horse still out" Yuuna came closer to her husband and planted a kiss on his lips.
"Oh good... well... you're not the first kevennys of the dynasty to be found in the garden's fountains" Mikhnaviro stated, with a smile from his sons face and a frown from his wife's. He knew that wasn't the disciplining action she'd wanted from him.
"Come on, let go, I have to go see father, how is he?" His children release their embraces and he drew a hand down Yuuna's arm. "He's his usual self it seems" Mikhnaviro gave a knowing nod to his wife. Walking to the next layer of tapestry and turning back to his family.
"I shouldn't be long" Mikhnaviro said as another pair of arms clasped around his shoulders from behind him.
"Mikh, you're back from giving diplomacy a try have you?" Mikhnaviro turned to see his younger brother.
Kevennys Jaarno was the firstborn son of his father's second wife and lanky like his mother. He was a subetman in the bureaucracy and whose sashes and half-cape he wore.
"I felt I made a good impression anyway" Mikhnaviro clasped his hands onto his brother's slim shoulders.
"Have you just met with father?"
"Yes, he knows you're home as well, so expect the usual reception" Jaarno told him, with a faint smile and a pat on the back.
Mikhnaviro smiled and walked through the tapestry again, this time with a chaincoat in rattling regalia following him.
Though it was another section of the hall with a burning brazier and ornate furniture, it was empty, save for the servant lingering at the doorway at the end of the hall.
On his way through, a small gathering of planners and architects passed by, with hats removed for the kevennys as he went past.
Another corridor, this onw more dimly lit and with less windows, lay ahead through the doorway. A pair of chaincoats awaited at both ends of the corridor.
"Mikhnaviro? I know that's you coming! You stay out!" A raspy voice shouted down the corridor to him. Mikhnaviro ignored it, walking down regardless.
"You don't get to walk through these halls without me knowing!" the voice only got louder.
"I trust the Kaerscheans told you to fuck off" Mikhnaviro turned into the doorway and into his father's bedchamber. The windows were beaming light into the chamber, along a large bed with open curtains around it and papers stacked around the old figure on it.
The Varakeisari's face was beleaguered with wrinkles and his greying hair was nearly all but gone.
He could smell the peppery, strong incense that was covering up the smell of his fathers irritable bowels.
"I was received very well by the Kaerscheans and they were friendly to us as we should to them father" Mikhnaviro stood at the foot of the bed.
"Oh pish, you cross the border only once... and you think you know international politics?" Gavrilako IX spoke with venom to his son.
"Well that's more times than you have father" Mikhnaviro retorted.
"Fuck you, guard kill him, be done with this imposter brat" Gavrilako told the chaincoat, who looked to Mikhnaviro and stood still and silent.
"Father please, don't say that, one day they might take you seriously" Mikhnaviro retorted again. A sneer slapped across Gavrilako's face.
"I'm surprised they take you seriously at all, you've convinced them you're higher in the dynasty than you actually are" Gavrilako said with a look out the window.
"I am your heir father" Mikhnaviro responded.
"Hiivak is my true heir" Gavrilako spat.
"Hiivak has been dead for ten years father!" Mikhnaviro suddenly shouted at the old varakeisari. A silence filled the room.
"Do you think I wanted him to die? Do you think I enjoyed watching his body being carried up into the Grave Cliffs?" Mikhnaviro said with a weak rattle in his voice.
"Yes I do" Gavrilako said. The silence flooded the room and clung to the walls.
"Do you think you have much longer... to live I mean... you should probably spend it with your grandchildren. I'm sure you heard your grandson takes after his grandfather, being found in the palace fountains" Mikhnaviro got no response from the old Varakeisari, who now leaned back onto the pillows and cushions of his bed and stared out the window.
Mikhnaviro waited a little while, before the silence gathered dust.
"Good evening father" Mihknaviro turned from the bed and back towards the corridor. They chaincoat shortly followed behind him with the aged Varakeisari looking out to the world solemnly.
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Post by lloydturquoise on Jul 16, 2017 22:17:59 GMT
((Turn 2))
Year 93 of the Reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
Long may he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy.
Our beloved Varakeisari, with his guidance and judgment, has completed the construction of the Moonstone Palace. May it last for a thousand years and be his finest mark on the world. Continue to ignore rumors of his imperial majesty's death. YOU WILL BE INFORMED BY THIS DISPATCH ONLY. - The Imperial Bureaucracy, in its wisdom and in blessing of the dynasty, has deemed the borders into the Sevatoor forests fit for the scouting and probing by relevant subetmen and Kommentajas. The treasury and Myrskitovaki have made funds and supplies available for those willing and able. You are not to take from natives, you are not to enslave or raid. The Sevatoor Forests Myrskitovako will not cross the border for you, should your expedition go awry. The bureaucracy has faith in you. Dydor protect you.
Saying of the Dispatch.
"Fear is the whispering voice of the weak"
Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking.
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Post by aspenivan on Jul 24, 2017 1:14:41 GMT
Moderation Mark
I am pleased to report that the local Ker princes -known as Mirans- along the border not only granted your Majesty's envoys audience and accepted our gifts, but are already in possession of Viikhalak standards, archaic but legitimate nonetheless, no doubt dating to when their forebears swore fealty to the Fortress City. They also presented to us, whether by spoken tradition or writing, what they claim to be their fealty agreements. I am less pleased to report that in every case these so-called agreements stipulate total freedom from taxation, complete autonomy in local law, and only the loosest obligations to raise banners for the Crown. Unfortunately, the principalities and their constituent settlements are scarcely mentioned in the Royal Archives, and never with specific terms I could use to counter those I am presented with now...
Further from the border, deeper into the Sevatoor Forest, the Mirans are less obliging to Viikhalak authority. Some refused us audience and left it at that, though the gifts we carry were enough appreciated for most to allow your Majesty's representatives in their courts. However, they were not like the border Mirans; they either claimed no liege, or to serve the King of Korash or the King of Ansha. Two Mirans even sent forces to arrest us, and sadly they did apprehend a small number of envoys, some eleven in total, including the son of a kommentajas. Now they demand extortionate ransoms. I believe they could only act with such impunity if they believe another protector would shield them from your Majesty's righteous punishment...
The situation can best be summarized by our reception by Miran Bawa Goran, a uniquely jovial and hospitable lord deep in the forest. I know not his intentions behind such display, but he showed me in his royal armory a collection of flags, in addition to his dynasty's colors Viikhalakan, Anshan, and Korash. All three! I cannot help but wonder if this situation is not the norm in these lands...
My fears were confirmed when my party was confronted by Anshan knights, claiming simply to patrol the rightful domain of their lord. By Dydor's grace we were not harmed or captured, only ordered to turn back. Not wishing to provoke his Majesty's neighbors without his Majesty's approval, I complied. I learned later that other parties were similarly stopped, some by Korash rather than Ashans...-- Excerpts from the report of Subetman Chirag Karad to Varakeisari Gavrilako IX, organized chronologically _____ Viikhalak scouts and envoys have entered the Sevatoor Forest province of Bohdal (5 Pop, Food/Tobacco). The region is inhabited by the human Ker people, organized politically into many small principalities (Miranates). Their language is related to Kaerschian, but religiously they are overwhelmingly Orthodox Dydorists except in the areas bordering Korash. Closer to the Viikhalakan border, the Mirans have been receptive to the parties, even claiming to be vassals of the Varakeisari already. However, the terms of their supposed vassalage amount to total autonomy, essentially making them “vassals” only in word. More worrying, however, is the situation further into the forest. Mirans there are generally aloof to Viikhalakan power, accepting the envoys because of their gifts but offering no pretense of loyalty. Some claim to be vassals of the Kingdom of Korash or the Royal Confederacy of Ansha. A handful of envoys were even arrested and taken prisoner. The remaining Viikhalaks were eventually stopped by Anshan and Korash “patrols,” no doubt alerted by hostile Mirans. They were forced to turn back before they could continue on to the province of Ardotan (4 Pop, Food/Furs), the northern section of the forest, which is known to be a network of Dydorist Ker Miranates much like Bohdal. It is clear that the province of Bohdal is a contested one. The three great powers around it all have claims, but so far have lacked the means to make their power stick. Indeed, both the geography and the politically fractured organization of the region lend themselves to a situation where Mirans enjoy de facto independence while nominally swearing and shifting fealty as it suits them. The Viikhalakan Imperial state must now address two problems. First and most pressing is the matter of prisoners. The scouts and most of the envoys were fairly expendable, but their capture is still an insult to the Crown. Yet, even if this could be ignored, the real problem is the kommentajas' son. How will the Varakeisari respond? 1) Pay ransom! The Varakeisari will not turn his back on his chosen representatives! There is no shame in securing their release with gold, even if their arrest was unjust. Pay 11 Gold.2) Pay ransom...but only for the important one. In such matters, expedience is key. The Varakeisari must balance the interests of the Treasury and the Nobility...but not mere common servants. They know their duty, and should expect nothing more. Pay 6 Gold. Varakeisari Gavrilako IX gains trait Callous to Minor Subetmans: -2 Splendor.3) Send an ultimatum! How dare these rabble try to extort us! They will give the Varakeisari his servants and nobles back or they will face his wrath! Of course, And if the prisoners are executed... Threaten to declare war unless the prisoners are returned. This will penalize attempts to bribe the Mirans (see below).If no option is chosen by the end of Turn 4, or if the kommentajas' son is executed, Viikhalakan Empire suffers -1 Order for 2 turns.Second is the underlying issue, the state of the province of Bohdal. If it is to be integrated, the status of the Mirans must be revised or abolished, and the issue of conflicting claims must be resolved. The only question is how. 1) Bribe the Mirans: We will give no credence to our neighbors' “claims.” Surely we can convince these divided petty princes to re-negotiate their “agreements” with Viikhalaka and become proper kommentajas, for the right price. Offer a bribe (Gold and/or Supplies) to the Mirans of Bohdal. If enough accept, they will subdue the others in the name of Viikhalaka. This may trigger a diplomatic crisis with Korash and Ansha.2) Negotiate with our Neighbor Kings: Surely we can find an acceptable way to divide the Mirans among the greater powers of our region. After all, they have only stayed free so long because we have not stood united against them. Open Diplomacy with Ansha and Korash. This may result in “splitting” the province among the powers, though the status of Ardotan could also be used as leverage.3) Take it All by Force: We must reject the terms of the Mirans' whole game if we are to defeat them. Viikhalaka has the strength to overpower them head-on, and the Kings too if they dare step in! Declare war to take Bohdal. Ansha and Korash may intervene to defend their claims. |
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Post by lloydturquoise on Jul 27, 2017 21:24:38 GMT
Khoro Aur Mukro Hill Fort
Sevatoor Forests
94 year of the reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
Kevennys Jaarno rode under the stone gatehouse of the Mirnate's hillfort. Having navigated and threaded through the staked ditches and palisades of the hill's slopes to the top. A small party of Viikhalaks waited on the other side, their blue and red standing out against the yellow banners and pennants that draped the gatehouse. Jaarno's horse and the chaincoats behind him stomped and trampled in the mud that floored the hill fort.
As Jaarno dismounted, he saw Mirnate fighters and warriors gathered on the fort's ramparts and leaning out of the gatehouse to see him. Some of them were old men and some of them were young boys, but they all wore yellow, either coating them or stuffed beneath armour or padding. The Kevennys saw the cart that pulled into the fort from behind him, guarded and watched by armed retainers.
At the head of the Viikhalakan party stood a kommentajas, an aging man with scars peeled over his cheeks. Next to him stood a boy, some sixteen years old, with a black eye and a pale complexion. The party bowed low and solemnly to the prince.
"Your highness, we are grateful for your arrival and for everything you've done" the kommentajas stated with his face pointed to Jaarno's feet.
"Think of it as a gift Kommentajas Eruuknok, from the dynasty to your lineage" Jaarno smiled and waved for the kommentajas to raise his head. He turned his smile over to the boy standing next to him.
"At least we now know how much you're all worth" Jaarno grinned to the boy, hearing laughs from the other freed hostages and the retainers who collected them.
"Did the Ker give you that eye, Luugo?" Jaarno asked the heir.
"No your highness... my horse was spooked... I was thrown into a pine tree..." the boy stammered and skirted eye contact with the Kevennys.
"Well I'm sure you'll live Luugo Eruuknok" Jaarno told the boy, waving him off wit the rest of the party.
"I can seek to repay you your highness, The treasury paid a heavy price for my son and other retainers and subetmen" the kommentajas wrangled his hands against each other nervously.
"My brother didn't anticipate the expansion into Bohdal being an easy venture, though I'm interested to know what your heir was doing that deep in the Sevatoor forests?"
"Luugo volunteered as soon as the dispatch arrived your highness, I told him no but he had already organised a party and equipment... I'd never seen him interested in something that much, so I thought it'd be good to let him ride his own horse, so to speak your highness" the kommentajas answered the kevennys, as they turned and walked into the hillfort, followed by the cart.
The buildings that filled the hill fort were mostly thatched roundhouses or longstanding tents, all centred around a long slate roofed hall in the centre. As a group of chaincoats marched ahead of the noble duo, the cart and pack mules followed suit, accompanied with Viikhalaks of various ranks and orders.
Most of the Ker around them either watched from their houses, or carried on with their chores. The sun was rolling between dark clouds, that morning had been dominated by torrential rain and the paths and mud avenues were dotted with puddles.
A team of miranate soldiers, household guards by their cleaned armour and ornate weaponry, awaited outside of the hall for the Viikhalaks.
A retainer, with a Viikhalak coloured half cape, but ker clothing beneath it, tread alongside the kommentajas and said something in the Ker's dialect. All Jaarno could make out was the retainer's finger pointing through the doorway of the hall.
The Miranates parted from the door and opened the creaky block of wood for the Viikhalaks. A trail of noble Ker emerged from the hall, dressed in finery and followed by servants. A large Miran joined the party outside, with heavy robes with thick sleeves and dipping into the mud just above his sandals.
He shouted something with a laugh, before dipping his head to Jaarno, who reciprocated.
"He said he is honoured to have you here your majesty" the translating retainer spoke.
"Tell him I am honoured to be here and on behalf of the Viikhalakan Empire, we'd like to thank his assistance in recovering the hostages from the Miranate responsible" Jaarno looked to the Miran though told the retainer.
After listening to the translator babble on to the Ker lord, Jaarno smiled as the Miran uttered more to the Viikhalaks. The word Viisaling unwrapped itself from the cloak of Ker words.
"The honourable Miran says that it was his duty to help a fellow Viisaling. The Miran claims partial descent from the Viisalings before their migration to the Yanitro's shores your highness" The translator explained.
Jaarno kept up his smile though raised his eyebrows in surprised delight.
"Very interesting, our ancestors no doubt fought together bravely" Jaarno recited in old Viisa, from an old poem of the period. The Miran recognised the language, though from his reaction did not know the meaning, pointing and nodding to the Kevennys.
"The honourable Miran is delighted that you know old Viisa, he remembers a bard of his people reciting those lyrics not long ago" the translator informed the prince of the mirans mumblings.
"Oh, Tuurinok's Farewell? I did not know it had an audience outside of the empire" Jaarno told the translator and the Kommentajas.
"Regardless, we have gifts and have come to deliver our end of the dealings" Jaarno nodded for the retainer to tell the Miran, as a horse with cloth bound packs was walked up to the parties.
The Miran looked intently as a subetman removed the cloth and revealed a bundle of matchlock muskets. Their fuses and strings having been protected from the rain earlier that day and on their journey into the Sevatoor.
The subetman removed a musket and presented it in both hands to the Miran, looking to the Jaarno before firmly taking it in his hands.
"We have many more matchlocks, with powder and lead to fill them, as well as gold the Miran would need to gather troops to use them" Jaarno had the translator relay to the Miran, who nodded as he examined the firearm intently, like a child would to a sword.
"Your neighbours have been made the same offers, although we felt your cooperation made you a first among equals your honour" Jaarno told the Miran, who only after the translation did he look away from the musket.
He said something, with a wide smile.
"The honourable Miran thanks your highness and accepts our end of the deal as fulfilled" the miran waved to his retainers and fighters, who took the reins of the pack mules and gathered the goods and supplies from the Viikhalaks. A Ker servant carried a chest between the parties and dropped it into the dirt, opening it to reveal folded flags and pennants. The Miran pointed to a blue flag and the servant unfurled it to show the red helm of Viikalaka.
"The Miran says that this banner will now fly from his gatehouse, his servants will dispose of the others if we see fit" the translator told the Kevennys, who watched with a smile as the Miran continued to ogle the musket in his hand and aim it to the sky.
The Viikhalakan Empire Pay Ransom! for all of the hostages, as well as Bribe the Miranates with gold and arms to secure their loyalty and fealty to the Empire. Spending a total of 21 gold and 20 supplies to accomplish both decisions.
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Post by lloydturquoise on Aug 10, 2017 21:10:22 GMT
((Turn 4)) Year 94 of the Reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
Long may he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy.- The Dynasty beseeches for privacy from all but the highest posting of office holders and nobility. All councils, deliberations, tribunals and interrogations are suspended to later dates. If you have had any of these organised and scheduled with any dynastic residence or offices. The new times and dates have been attached with this dispatch. Continue to ignore rumors of his imperial majesty's death. YOU WILL BE INFORMED BY THIS DISPATCH ONLY.
- Both the Dynasty and the Bureucracy are disturbed by recent news of the conflict in Firouz. Especially news of the defeat of the Firouzian army at the battle of the Wushan Plains. If your prayers to Dydor go unanswered, it is no doubt because Dydor hears the grief of Firouz and it's people.
- The Imperial Bureaucracy would like all members along the Paavur border with Damgh to extend warm relations and modest gifts to our neighbours. To reassure them of our friendship as nations and to comfort them from fear of foreign aggression.
- The Bureucracy encourages vigilance along the shoreline of the empire. It can be confirmed that Colossi ships have been spotted in the Yanitro and caution is to be had to all subetmen and kommentajas of Viikhalaka's coastline. There is no evidence to suggest raiding has began. Nor is there information as to what has caused this sudden activity by the Colossi.
Saying of the dispatch
"Any tale, that begins with black sails, is a bad tale"
Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking.
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Post by lloydturquoise on Aug 25, 2017 22:37:10 GMT
((Turn 5))
Year 95 of the Reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
Long may he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy.
- The new courts and bureaucracy offices are nearing completion in Kajakov-La. Soon the refurbishment and establishment of proper facilities for the imperial bureaucracy will enhance and develop administration within the empire. Any Kommentajas or lower within the southern half of the empire will soon be able to suitably and sufficiently meet with the bureaucracy. Expect Imperial Dispatches to arrive from Kajakov-La as well as from Saarsipa-La.
- Within the next few weeks. Subetmen, chaincoats and their levies in the Sevatoor Forests Myrskitovaki are to report for exercises and inspection. By order of commander Radisaak Vesaan and Kevennys Miknaviro.
- The official Imperial statement and consensus is as follows on the Uzakhs. "No Uzakh sylph, especially those that fly the banner or colours of the self-proclaimed wind lord, Teimuraz K'ari, must be turned away at the border and are not permitted to enter the empire. Regardless of means of movement. All subetmen and kommentajas are given license to arrest any trespassing sylph and escort them back to the border. Both the dynasty and the bureaucracy have no wish to deal or bargain with the Uzakhs and will respond to any provocation or affront to Dydor with swift justice"
- The construction of a university in Saarsipa-La has prompted the bureaucracy and dynasty to call for intelligentsia from across the empire to lecture and teach at these new halls of learning. Construction will be completed this winter, ready for young minds to be moulded and educated by some of the finest theologians, engineers, administrators, theorists from across the empire.
Saying of the dispatch
"A sword is only as sharp as the mind that wields it"
Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking.
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Post by lloydturquoise on Aug 27, 2017 21:43:02 GMT
Moonstone Palace
Saarsipa-La
Viikhalakan Empire
95 year of the reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
"I feel like shit. No, I feel like shit that's just fallen out a horse and landed in a puddle" Kevennys Neevaanir felt the sweat roll down his back as he leaned against a pillar. He felt the warm hand of his older brother pat his back.
"Please don't be sick again" Jaarno said with a smile. Neevaanir let out a quick laugh as his sweaty hair curtained around his face.
"Why are we having this council anyway? Mik isn't going to talk about father is he?" Neevaanir lifted his head up and felt his stomach slosh in his body. He pondered how much liquor could still be in his body still after such a heavy night of drinking.
"I don't know, Saardana want's to talk politics as per usual. Though I'm just happy to see our kommentajas nephew" Jaarno refered to Saardana's four year old son, who was a kommentajas after his father's death a few years ago. Neevaanir and Jaarno returned to walking down the corridor, Jaarno looked over their shoulders as clerks and subetmen looked on behind them.
"Don't worry, we're nearly there now. There will be water a plenty there" Jaarno comforted his younger brother.
"Thank Dydor!" Neevaanir almost shouted as they continued past a trio of city-subetmen.
The brothers staggered down the corridors, beneath the new, painted frescos of the ceiling. It was early in the morning, Jaarno had recovered Neevaanir even earlier from drinking and sleeping alone in a wine cellar.
Neevaanir and Jaarno pivoted off from the corridor and descended a short set of steps before entering under a portico.
The pillars of the portico were painted in shades of green and brown, images of conifers and spruces that surrounded a rectangular courtyard. The yard was filled with pines and stripped poles. As the duo walked out into the morning sun, Neevaanir leaned against a pole, garnished in antlers, charms, curios and dydorist relics. Their arrival prompted servants and slaves emerging from the shadowed portico with chairs and small tables. The one side of the yard was a platform, looking over a stone barrier and down towards the cityscape of Saarsipa-La.
As a slave walked past with a jug, Neevaanir reached a hand out and grabbed the pitcher. Gulping down the cool, smooth water and letting it seep down the sides of his mouth.
"Oh dydor, I hate this glade. I hate pretending like we're migration era Viisalings!" Neevaanir stated as he wiped his mouth of moisture and watched his brother grab seats for them.
"No Viisalings stay still Neevaanir" Jaarno leaned himself into a fine chair.
"Do you not want me to throw up or what!?" Neevaanir held the pitcher in his lap as he fell into his own seat.
The brothers sat in the sun for a while. Jaarno basked in the sun and looked out to the city, while Neevaanir wallowed in his seat and sipped at the pitcher, refusing cups from servants.
Footsteps could be heard, ringing and clapping against the columns and out into the courtyard. Miknaviro and Saardana walked together, whispering something amongst themselves, both followed by their sons, Dashirkaan, holding his younger cousin's hand.
Jaarno stood up and walked to them, while Neevaanir wasn't bothered to move. Jaarno was elated and complimenting the young kommentaja's coat. He shyly lingered behind his mother's coat tails. Then as Saardana and Miknaviro, no doubt whispered about him to Jaarno, Dashirkaan walked up to his uncle.
"Hello Dash, I trust you father is cross with me" Neevaanir told his eldest nephew.
"I haven't heard him say 'embarrassing' so much" Dashirkaan relayed to his uncle with a smile and a look over his shoulder.
"Oh good, It's nice to ruffle some feathers once in a while" Neevaanir rubbed his eyes as his nephew grabbed a chair and placed it next to him.
With all four Kevennys and two heirs together, they created a circle within the conifers and totems. Saardana's son sat in her lap as Jaarno snapped open a wax tablet.
"First of all, Neevaanir, are you feeling better than you did this morning?" Saardana asked Neevaanir as he gulped from the pitcher.
"Oh yes, I'm basking in Dydor's light now" Neevaanir quipped, getting a snigger from Dashirkaan. Miknaviro looked tired and annoyed at him and he noticed.
"Why are we here? We all know Mik's already the Varakeisari without the crown. You don't need to deliberate with us" Neevaanir waved a hand to his eldest brother.
"We're all the dynasty, you need to know what's going on. So you don't slip up in front of the wrong persons, say if you were drunk..." Miknaviro told his brother, though it didn't calm him down.
"We all have roles to play in the next few years that need to be organised now" Saardana wasn't as stern in her pronouncement as Miknaviro.
"You both have heard about the Sevatoor Myrskitovaki conducting exercises in Khava province. Well, the Korashians and the Ansha haven't opposed the reaffirming of the miranates of Bodahl loyalty to the empire. So, to formally induce our claim and establish our legitimate rule. Jaarno has kindly volunteered to govern the province. With the assistance of Commander Vesaan and the myrskitovaki" Miknaviro told them all, with Jaarno meekly smiling and holding off taking notes.
"Which I'm sure you can handle very well Jaarno" Saardana told her brother with a grin.
"I've developed quite a rapport with the Kerlings, and with the Myhrskitovaki to support us. I'm sure we will be able to assert ourselves in the province without too much hassle" Jaarno told his siblings.
"There aren't exactly many scholarly sorts there Jaarno, it would be... quiet to say the least" Neevaanir told Jaarno, bumping his knee against his brother's.
"Well, some of you might get to visit me, see some rough and real wilderness. Once safely secured of course" Jaarno avoided eye contact with Neevaanir and beamed to his nephews.
"Well, I'm planning on being in Paavur for longer than expected. My work isn't yet completed there and my lectures at the new university won't be starting at least for another year" Saardana told the siblings, gentling sliding her hand through her son's dark hair.
"Dashirkaan and I have discussed it and once he's finished his training as a chaincoat, he's going to attend the Saarspia-La's knew institution next year. Though we haven't quite decided yet on what he's studying" Miknaviro stated with a proud smile to his son.
"I was thinking of military engineering and attending your lectures aunt Saardana" Dashirkaan grinned to his aunt and got one in return.
"Oh brilliant, soon it will just be me and you left here Mik'!" Neevaanir smirked before swigging from the pitcher again. There was a silence, and as Neevaanir put down the jug and looked, he saw all his siblings staring at him.
His stomach dropped to his arse.
"Oh Dydor no!" Neevaanir leaned back in his seat in frustration.
"Neevaanir, we've talked about this as a group and we have a task we think you'd be suited for. To save we from drinking yourself to death around the palace for the rest of your life" Miknaviro said, Neevaanir noticed the word we. He looked to Jaarno, who ashamedly looked to the ground.
Saardana and Miknaviro both looked intently to their younger brother.
"Have you heard of the easterners who have secured themselves a settlement in the Kalmari lands?" Saardana asked Neevaanir, who knew exactly what they were going to ask of him.
"Oh good, you're going to send me to some Dydor forsaken frontier aren't you!" Neevaanir stated.
"Not really, no Neevaanir" Miknaviro said to him, thus halting the beginning of a man-child tantrum.
"We've decided that it would be best for the empire and for you, if we were to send you east, to be our delegate to the eastern powers. They have already ventured into the lands of the Kalmar and we've heard disturbing reports that the Mogui usurpers have secured themselves contact with the easterners too. Therefore, you will represent us and tour the far east, giving gifts of tobacco and cotton fabric to suitable powers in the region" Miknaviro told his brother. Who didn't really know how to take the news. He didn't know whether to walk out or cry or throw the jug over the platform and down to the streets below.
"You will be a diplomatic representative however, so we will be sending you with a handpicked team of envoys and retainers. To represent us best, properly interact with whatever nobility or leaders the easterners have... as well as to watch your drinking while you're among them" Saardana joined in explaining this planned trip, to the traveller.
Neevaanir gulped air.
"Isn't it dangerous in the east, I've heard it's half filled with bloodthirsty orcs. With the other half being filled with god-botherers" Neevaanir said.
"Well, your guess is as good as mine. But we won't know for sure unless we find out and their ships aren't arriving in our ports anytime soon" Miknaviro told Neevaanir with a reassurance.
"Do I get a say in this matter?" Neevaanir looked between his brother and sister.
"No Neevaanir..." Jaarno finally joined the discussion. "But think of it this way, you'll be the first Viikhalak to see the world beyond the mountains. Do you know how many people would give up everything for that opportunity?" Jaarno put a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Umm..."
Neevaanir looked around and saw the expectant faces of most of his family.
"Well... uh..."
He took a long sip of the jug. Something to add as much time for answering as possible.
"I... uh..."
"Okay"
Neevaanir suddenly felt sick again and another drop of sweat roll down his neck.
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Post by aspenivan on Sept 7, 2017 23:52:28 GMT
Moderation MarkWe sang the Emperor's songs.
We marched to horns and drums.
We readied our matchlocks and steel,
And we found only crumbs!
Oh - the loyal Kerlings!
The battles they had won!
But one small matter they forgot,
To send a herald on!
Brave and mighty soldiers!
Our great foes they did best!
If only they had had the thought,
To send the message West!
-- Excerpt from a popular Viikhalakan army song - and later tavern song - following the Bohdal "campaign"
_____
Radisaak Vesaan's expedition to the Ker Miranates of Bohdal, the eleven-thousand strong Sevatoor Forests Myrskitovaki, came fully prepared for a protracted war. With little word from even the "loyal" Mirans in over a year, the Emperor had ordered the expedition expecting at least partial resistance, perhaps an ongoing war between Viikhalak loyalists and independent-minded Mirans, or even puppets of Ansha and Korash.
However, quite to the contrary, the army found itself greeted by Imperial flags and victory parades at every settlement. Every Miran encountered refered to himself either as a "Kommentajas," or by a hybrid term "Miran-Kommentajas" or "Kommentajas-Miran." Each triumphant greeting party announced to Vesaan and his Myrskitovaki that the enemies of Viikhalaka had been subjugated or forced to flee in a glorious campaign that had apparently ended many months prior. These lords - or the courtiers - often expressed that they had expected a Viikhalakan party earlier and that they were certain messages had been sent to the Imperial Crown announcing the victory.
Whether this line was earnest or obfuscation, every lord publicly submitted to oaths of loyalty and new contracts of vassalage stipulating their rights and duties as Kommentajas - administered by Vesaan. They even arranged for some of their subjects to accompany the expedition on its return to the Fortress-City, carrying their first tax payments to the Crown. Scribes with the army made records of the various lords and settlements for the Crown, and after a month every Miran of Bohdal was officially a Kommentajas subject to the Emperor of Viikhalaka.
Why had the message never reached the Empire beforehand? Why had it taken an army marching into the region to confirm the pro-Viikhalakan Mirans' victory and allegiance to the Crown? The Empire's non-Ker servants might never know.
It might have had something to do with the international reaction that soon followed. Within two weeks of the expedition's return, the monarchs of both Korash and Ansha had issued condemnations of Viikhalaka's "breach of rightful claims." The words from Ansha did not go beyond this stern but vague warning, perhaps because of their existing fears of the Mogui threat to the West. Korash, however, announced a red line: Continue expansion into Ardotan, and there would be war. Reports from Ker subjects of Viikhalaka would later confirm that a Korash army had marched into Ardotan; whether it was defending the Mirans or imposing its own claim was not yet clear.
__________
SUMMARY:
-- Expedition to Sevatoor Forest learns that Bribe the Mirans action was SUCCESSFUL.
-- Viikhalakan Empire gains Bohdal (5 Pop, Food/Tobacco) - Blockhouses Infrastructure
-- Ansha and Korash CONDEMN Viikhalaka's expansion into their claimed territory
-- Korash WARNS Viikhalaka not to expand further into the Sevatoor Forests and sends its own forces into Ardotan (4 Pop, Food/Furs) |
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Post by lloydturquoise on Sept 30, 2017 17:57:26 GMT
((Turn 7))
Year 95 of the reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
Long may he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy.
- The Dynasty and the imperial bureaucracy are most pleased to inform the uninformed patriot of sweeping loyalty of the Kerlings. They have ousted false lords and have chartered under the Varakeisari and stand unwavering for the empire, deep in the Sevatoor forests.
- All Myrskitovakis of the Varakeisari's service are to present and prepare themselves for possible colossi assaults on our shoreline. Recent raids along the Sathey of our noble Kaerschian neighbours has enlightened our minds and coordination between our efforts to protecting out coast and estuaries from giant attack. It is the duty of every patriot to report sightings of Colossi ships to their nearest garrison/myrskitovaki to prepare for possible attack.
- Our beloved Kevennys Neevaanir has made contact with the Vinayan's of the far east. In recent messages, they neared the easterling's fortress. Having dodged and slipped past colossi vessels hounding the Yanitro sea. We thank Dydor for such success and pray for more news and the safety of the Varakeisari's fifthborn.
- The Dynasty have been made aware the troubling situation begetting Colossi attacks on our neighbour to the west Damgh. The dynasty and bureaucracy send their prayers to our dydorist neighbours and comrades. It has been expressed by the dynasty that should Damgh require aid and supply from Viikhalaka, they need only send missives across the border.
Saying of the Dispatch
"The patriot is no enigmatic figure or quiet patron, the patriot is perfecting, plotting and proactive!"
Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking. |
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Post by lloydturquoise on Oct 16, 2017 19:41:15 GMT
Lakaana Beach
Paavur
Viikhalakan Empire
96 Year of the reign of Varakeisari Gavrilako IX
_______________________________________
Koovandro Turvo-Kaas watched his slaves as they farmed his seaweed. He watched them wade up and down the beach, dragging ropes and wicker cages through the saltwater. Laver, sea lettuce and other edible seaweeds had deposited their spores on the ropes were now being moved to the Kaan river's mouth, to nurture and grown on the nutrients flowing through. Koovandro owned three dozen slaves, twenty or so were working the shoreline. They wore crude tunics with his owners seal painted on them. Or collared on their necks. The majority were Tebrakuts, the elven slaves commonly found across the empire. Though the odd orc or foreign human were intermingled in their number.
In small boats and treading the shallows were farmhands, though their tools were studded clubs and salt-rusted knives. They collected and counted the baskets of seaweed and vegetation that the slaves harvested. Storing them on a barge that rarely left it's mooring on the beach, save for harvesting or freighting his produce down to the Mahlan.
The Kaan was a tributary of the Mahlan, which flowed out to the Yanitro only a couple dozen leagues to the south east. With a new year soon approaching, traders of all ilk and trade would leave their winter lodgings in the fortress-city and bargain amongst landowners like himself. Koovandro's slaves still in the beachside hovels were his property's children, who two of which this year will be sold to a slave trader. Though it was wise business to keep a healthy stock of slaves, but too many can quickly become a problem.
Koovandro warmed by the brazier beside him. The fire crackling and blowing embers as it sat on the sandy beach. A stool had been provided for him and his horse grazed on the grasses that layered along the edge between beach and land.
"You said she would be here by now" A elf woman stood behind him, in front of a gathering of resting and chatting retainers, beside their own fires and preparing meals for themselves and their subetman. Hummed and quiet songs drifted down the beach from the camp.
"She's coming. You just to be more patient Ostiiva" Koovandro looked over his shoulder, at the black haired, slender elf.
"It's her first time in the capital, I just need to know she's safe for myself"
"I know, she's my daughter too"
Then they saw a riding figure, their mare stomping dust and sand from the beach as they approached the farm. The figure wore a green jacket, though you could see the strings and parchments sown onto the jackets sleeves flutter with the momentum. It was a messenger of the imperial bureaucracy, though Koovandro hoped that they hadn't come on just an official capacity.
The messenger wore the hood and mask that messengers of the bureaucracy are all issued. A papery thing with eyeholes and a blank expression painted on it. Messenger masks are all the same, so as to not distinguish identity. In case the news they bring moves a recipient kommentajas or subetman to hold the messenger hostage for whatever reason. Be it the contents of the dispatch or something else entirely.
As the rider rode closer though, Koovandro recognised so much about the figure. Because he didn't need to see her face to recognise his own daughter. The way she sat on the horse, how she looked out the slaves on the shoreline, how she held her gloved hands on the reins.
"Hello mother... hello father" the messenger pulled her hood down, showing her dark hair tied practically behind her head, and sliding the mask over her forehead to reveal her features. Ostiiva stayed behind Koovandro, though he knew she wanted to reach out and hold her daughter's hands. But Ostiiva knew her place, and stood still.
As their daughter dismounted though, she bounded from her horse and swung her arms around her mother's shoulders. Koovandro didn't mind, she knew he wouldn't mind it.
"Are you happy to see me mother?" she muffled into her mother's ear. "Yes I am Caarina" Ostiiva said. Koovandro saw his daughter carried his father's sabre still scabbarded on her belt.
Once they finished their embrace, Caarina turned around and rolled her hand over her father's head and over his shoulder.
"I have your dispatch, Subetman Turvo-Kaas" his daughter smiled to her father, handing him the wrapped and wax sealed scroll. "I was held up in the capital, the bureaucracy finished a pallet of dispatches but then took them back before we could leave. Some messengers were even stopped at the gates to the moonstone palace before they could leave the city" Caarina explained to her father, who only smiled back to her.
"I didn't mind sweetheart, your mother and I were just worried about you being in the fortress-city" Koovandro couldn't help to glance at his daughter's ears. There were worst places in the world to be a half-elf, but Caarina was more prejudiced by being a 'half-slave' the child of a master and a slave. Despite freeing her mother before her birth, it was taboo of their homeland for masters to impregnate their property.
"I was fine, my work kept me busy. I even got the opportunity to see one of the dynasty, the youngest of Kevennys Miknaviro no less!" Caarina no doubt wanted to tell them everything about Saarsipa-la.
"We have plenty of time for that Caarina, but I know you haven't eaten since you left the city, come have some stew" Ostiiva took her daughter's hand and pulled her towards the retainers camp. Koovandro waved his daughter to go without him, looking back to the dispatch in his hand.
He watched his daughter stroll to the campfires with her mother and chuckled. The warm feeling inside him soothed his heart as his thumb broke the wax seal. I should spend some time with her before so goes back to the capital Koovandro thought, peeling back the scroll and lowering his eyes down to the dispatch. Before his heart stopped beating for the quickest moment.
... Year 1 of the reign of Varakeisari Miknaviro V
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Post by lloydturquoise on Oct 21, 2017 21:15:55 GMT
((Turn 8)) Year 1 of the reign of Varakeisari Miknaviro V
Long my he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy
- Varakeisari Gavrilako IX has passed into Dydor's light. Varakeisari Miknaviro V now leads our beloved empire, as Gavrilako IX did and as Gavrilako the backbreaker did. Though the Dynasty has shifted in power, you are still a subject of the dynasty and the bureaucracy. Any subject found wanting or subverting the transition of power will be punished severely. This is your only warning.
- Though the recent death of our beloved Varakeisari may be distracting and troublesome. The Varakeisari commands that all shoreline kommentajas and subetmen still retain their vigilance of the Yanitro. The Colossi still linger along our shoreline and mustn't be forgotten.
- Varakeisari Miknaviro V is now overlord and emperor of Viikhalaka and is now head of the Dynasty. He is to be obeyed as much as Gavrilako IX. Treason is an unthinkable crime. The torture and punishment is not.
Saying of the dispatch
"The crown weights the same, no matter the head that wears it"
Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking. |
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Post by lloydturquoise on Nov 23, 2017 18:09:53 GMT
((Turn 10)) Year 2 of the reign of Varakeisari Miknaviro V
Long may he reign
Imperial Dispatch to all Kommentajas and Subetmen of the Imperial Bureaucracy.
- All levies of obligation and volunteers along the shoreline of the Saar are to report to their armouries and organise themselves amongst their respective subetmen for defend the coast from colossi raiders. Our noble and brave troopers and chaincoats have repelled them over and over and will continue to do so!
- Our glorious Varakeisari leads his myrskitovaki to face the heinous devil warlord Ravan, cursed be his warhost. May Dydor protect them and may many devil souls be extinguished!
- Our beloved heir apparent, Kevennys Dashirkaan, has completed his studies at the lecture halls of the fortress-city and has now joined the war effort. He has taken lead of the Rusted Sabres chaincoat brigade, of the Sevatoor forests Myrskitovaki.
- The Kaerschians are nobly marching to our aid against the foul colossi! Dydor wills it! Any kommentajas along their march is to offer them supply and guidance as they move to meet the Varakeisari's own Myrskitovaki.
Saying of the dispatch" For it is written, their souls are mine to vanquish, so saith Dydor"
Burn after reading, on pain of death via head-staking. |
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Post by lloydturquoise on Nov 30, 2017 17:33:54 GMT
Somewhere along the Saar Coastline
Viikhalakan Empire
2 year of Varakeisari Miknaviro V
"Does that feel better?" Haastejey asked the chaincoat. Smoothing his hands across the cut and mangled leg of the soldier.
"Yes, it does. What magic are you using?" the chaincoat looked perplexed at the mage's spellwork.
"I'm not" Haastejey quickly snapped the knee back into place. The chaincoat cursed loudly and recited litanies in pain. Haastejey smirked and let assistants complete their work with the injured chaincoat. Who continued to whine and moan as he walked away.
The healers tents was surprisingly quiet. An elaborate yet ramshackle collection of bunks and supplies that was prepared for a much more significant casualties. Instead, handfuls of chaincoats with surface injuries turned up. Or the occasional trooper somehow breathing after being impaled by dark, twisting arrows. Some of the non-magical assistants loitered, hunched over fires and smoking. They'd been prepared for hard work but instead found themselves overstaffed.
Haastejey pulled his mask from his belt and strapped it over his face. A clashing pallet of birch bark, trimmed and peeled into a comfortable face covering. Upon emerging from the tent. The main thoroughfare, a mud smeared passage between thousands of tents, was ripe with activity. By his area, many of the troops were recovering patients, though they were intermingled with healers, labourers, overseers and slaves. Staff of the Varakeisari's logistics poked and plied through the supplies that entered and returned from the medical tents. A pair of chaincoats cantered through the centre of the road, spreading the traffic to the sides against braziers and tents.
Haastejey trudged towards the centre of the camp, away from the camp's palisade and the mustering fields surrounding them. Where the banners became more ornamental and the variety became broader. Haastejey spotted pennants of simple blues flutter beneath lumbering banners bearing icons and images of kommentajas both present and other past. Some banners made reference to Dydor, with a D sown over images of the sun, engraved on the red helm of Viikhalaka, or shining over great Viisaling heros or dead devils.
Beneath these flags stood more armed troopers. Much more than the army around them. Retainers and chaincoats sworn to various kommentajas or dynastic members.
"Birch mask! You are summoned by his majesty to..." A voice rolled out from the clatter and chatter of the camp around him.
"Yes, I am aware" Haastejey did not stop as the minor subetman emerged from a supply tent. "Is Araajana already in his majesty's presence?" Haasetejey enquired as the subetman match his pace.
"Aye, as well as many of the captains and kommentajas" the subetman had been in the medical tent earlier that morning, to change the bandage strapped around his forehead.
As they came closer to the imperial tent, the smell of shit and rust faded out for the incense of nearby clergy. Though in the clearing outside the tent itself, sweaty irregulars gulped water and dumped generous helpings of hay and oats for their panting steeds. They looked as though they'd ridden around the Yanitro by their candour and tiredness.
"... Oh they moved fast alright!... But at the same speed... as a dog with it's tail between it's legs..." Haastejey overheard a rider sputtering his sightings to an attentive scribe.
Haastejey walked up the wooden steps laid in the mud to the Varakeisari's tent. He shuffled through the dense collection of chaincoat guards and eavesdropping retainers too low ranking to witness the meeting inside.
The mage walked through the tent flap and his boots stomped on a dirtied carpet. Inside, collections of kommentajas and other notables gathered in the corners of the tent. A space before the Varakeisari's chair was made and individuals or pairs stood within.
One man, similar in dress to the irregulars outside, spoke from the space as the Varakeisari himself. Who leaned against the elbow rest in keen attention of the man.
"Allow me and my men your majesty, we can be on any beach or cove in the Saar as they devils make landing again!" The man was bedecked in a leather harness, padded and strapped with various knives and pistols. He was the commander of the cavalry irregulars.
"As much as I commend your enthusiasm Tiian, We require your men rested still within arm's reach of the myrskitovaki" Varakeisari Miknaviro rubbed his hand over his shaved chin.
A balding man behind the Varakeisari piped up, as Haastejey found a spot against the tent wall to linger amongst the crowd. Haastejey recognised the man, it was his majesty's spymaster, Tobokh of Kiyinaar. It was ironic that the beautiful town of Paavur be the namesake of an unfortunate looking man.
"It is an opportune time to tell you all news that we have received" Tobokh rumbled out to the crowd present. Ears and eyes that were not already perked, all now did so.
"It is to our suspicion that the colossi, especially Ravan, are using the Damgh as a mustering ground for their fleet." Haastejey suspected that this was a plot of the Varakeisari's. Using so called 'information' to advance the dynasty's agenda. Whether it was true or not, this news would not be broadcast to such a large gathering if they did not want it to spread.
Haastejey thought of pushing his luck.
"Your highness, if I may!" Haastejey waved for the varakeisari's attention, but dared not step into the pit in front of him.
"I need not explain this to you, your majesty, but some here might not know that the Damghlings paid off the Colossi. Do you postulate that they Colossi demanded supply and safe harbour from the Damghlings as a part of their deal?" Haastejey spoke out for credence from the Varakeisari. Miknaviro smiled and nodded to the mage.
"That is what our information has led us to postulate birch-mask" Tobokh spoke up for the Varakeisari. A kommentajas from Paavur stepped into the pit.
"My lords, I have regularly made the crossing into the Damgh. I would swear to the Dynasty and Dydor now that the Damghlings wish us no ill feeling or plot against us!" The Kommentajas orated to the Varakeisari but notably to the room as well.
"We don't doubt your observations your lordship. However, they have offered us no open palms either" Tobokh was almost interrupted by Miknaviro.
"The Righteous Duke knew he could of asked for our aid, but he did not. We have offered him our help and he has been silent. If he can't fight off the Colossi, how can we expect him to resist the Mogui? Dydor holds him in high esteem, but he has failed at every turn" Miknaviro did his own orating from his seat.
Eyes around the room glanced at the outspoken kommentajas, not wanting to be in his shoes at that moment.
"I do not deny that your majesty. Yet we are here to repel the sea-devils, not to overthrow our neighbours!" the kommentajas remembered his place, but his spine was still straight.
"We are not talking of overthrowing the duke. But he continues to force our hand. I fear that it is our duty in war with the Colossi to expel them from the Damgh, as well as rally those that are not found wanting, like the Duke" Miknaviro told the kommentajas and everyone else.
An uncomfortable silence dripped into the tent. For the first time, Haastejey could here the camp outside the tent.
"Aye, the Duke has failed Dydor and us long enough. I am sure there are Damghlings that wish to continue the fight against the colossi!" the irregulars commander spouted. Other voices erupted from the around the tent in agreement. Swords and sabres are drawn, swung up to the roof of the tent.
"It is our duty to crush Ravan and to bring the Duke back into line!" A subetman shouted. A collective chant echoed out of the tent, Haastejey couldn't help but get swept up and felt his breath beat against his mask.
Miknaviro rose from his seat.
"Then let us find and crush the heinous warlord Ravan and deliver our ultimatum to the Damgh!" Miknaviro took his sword from a nearby page, wrapped in cotton.
More chants echoed out, before Haastejey started feeling excitement brush the inside of his stomach. But he knew he'd been swept up and doubted what he'd actually pushed for the Varakeisari, who smiled at him from across the tent.
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