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Post by psychopathickids on Oct 11, 2014 10:17:58 GMT
"One for All...," the young Queen of Juturna mused to herself absently, seated once more upon the throne which had been her father's, garbed in a silken gown all of black, gold, silver and copper, none of which had ever been her colors, the fingers of her right hand grasping the far side of a massive pair of solid silver scales which rested upon the, thankfully, rather sturdy right arm of her glorified chair, fingernails polished to match the soft golden hue of her elaborate lattice neckwear idly rapping upon it’s obverse in synch with the tapping of her left ankle upon the white stone base of the throne, left hand grasping the hilt of a ceremonial copper leaf-shaped blade lain across her lap, ridiculously large crown all of gold resting rather uncomfortably atop her head, motifs in silver leaf depicting the past glories of the Crowned Republic of Lucente upon its face. The crown itself was nearly identical in structure to that worn by the Doge but two decades past, sans the numerous representations of the Seven which had been even more prominent than those of trade, seafaring and war, and studded solely with black diamonds rather than one of each of the stones representative of the great Houses of the Republic, though her father had been of the belief that ruling should never be easy and had insisted on wearing an elaborate contraption without a liner and more than twice the weight of the Doge’s traditional headwear, something his daughter and her increasingly sore neck was not appreciative of all these years later.
“All for One,” the thought elicited a giggle. It always came down to the one, didn’t it? How many lives had been thrown away in wars over crowns which only one would come to wear and which few were like to enjoy much once they wore it? It was too late to turn back now, however. There would be blood. Kallista had sent envoys to two separate mercenary companies, and invited them to gather here around her manor, one company to the Northeast, and one to the Northwest, and positioned a thousand of her men in between them --, wouldn’t do to have her guests killing each other after all, and on either side of her men lay dozens of tents large enough to fit hundreds each, filled with hot food, women of loose morals and ill repute, and casks of the rich carmine wines the Southern Shores were known for. The other thousand men were positioned in and around the capital, stretching from Thessaly’s Hill nearly to the first large villages along the Western banks of the Sunset Sea with the intention of keeping the more rambunctious mercenaries from interacting with the general citizenry; all of her soldiers would be sleeping in shifts tonight. Each of the Captains had been invited to feast in her hall after the terms of their respective contracts had been established along with an honor guard and their most trusted lieutenants, and she was expecting each commander to show up with around a hundred men. When they decided to show up, that is. Tap. Tap. Tap.
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 11, 2014 16:25:01 GMT
Captain D'Artagnan Milo Was the first to arrive. He was a youngish man in hid early twenties and every thing about him spoke towards meticulous grooming. His hair was tied back and his goatee and mustache came to fine points. His garments were well made and only a few steps behind the latest fashions. At his side was an exquisitely crafted rapier, peace bonded of course. He made a flourishing bow to the queen as his opposite entered the hall.
Sir Hallark Von Gerrack was a dour man in his late fifties with close cropped steel grey hair. He wore a suit of battered plate like it was a second skin and over it was a surcoat in the colors of a house long dead. His face was craggy and battle scared. The blade at his side was also peace bonded but in contrast to the thin rapier Hallark's blade was a well made broadsword, free of ornimentation except for a single emerald set in the pommel. His bow was more controlled and he gave a muttered "Your Grace." As greeting.
Once both had finished greeting their host they gave polite nods to each other, the kind one would expect to be exchanged by friendly business rival. They weren't overly warm but nor was there any real hatred there. They had fought on the same side almost as often as on opposing, They knew the trade they plied.
Von Gerrack was the fist to speak "Your Grace we are honored to have been given audience with you but we would ask the pupose. Unlike the east we've heard no stirring of war. We were surprised to receive summons. Will Juturna be be on campaign soon?"
"We would be glad to march under your banners your grace. We just find it odd that you would call us now." D'Artagnan had a broad easy smile across his features as he attempt to blunt the strait forward speech of Hallark.
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Post by psychopathickids on Oct 11, 2014 19:19:28 GMT
Captain D'Artagnan had been the first to arrive, which Kallista had not expected. Young, no more than a year or so older than herself if the eye could be believed, attractive, groomed and dressed as proper as any born to nobility and raised at court. His flourishing bow brought a smile and the slightest bit of rose to her cheeks as she stood and offered the best curtsey she could manage holding a sword, the edge of which was obviously dull and clearly a symbolic representation of the Republic and House Makris, and a pair of scales comprised of some twenty or so pounds of silver, an equally gregarious golden crown perched atop her brow, without becoming tangled in the skirts of her gown before addressing him, “Most esteemed captain, I am Kallista Eudokia of House Makris, Queen of Juturna on the Southern Shores. You and your lieutenants are always welcome as guests in my home,” eyes and words warm, smoky with the thick accents of the Southern Shores though girlish, the slightest hint of the bashfulness born of nativity clear upon her tongue, though it was likely he was used to the spectacle of fawning young women attempting to keep their composure about his person by now. Ser Hallark Von Gerrack on the other hand reminded her of her father; dour, blunt, a little too serious even in light of the circumstances. However, unlike her handsome young Captain he didn’t seem the type to run in too fast, work his men too hard or lead them into a foolish charge in the name of honor and bravery, all things she appreciated in a proper general, especially one who would be protecting the flanks of her own infantry and harassing those of her enemy. Offering an equally proper curtsey the young Queen formally welcomed the knight and his fellows into her hall as her guests, before he made it clear he wanted to get straight to business.
“It pleases me greatly that you are surprised to hear from me as it were, honored guests. Perhaps the best time to go on campaign is when none, even those whose livelihoods depend on knowing when and where conflict is most like to break out, expect you to march,” with that Kallista gestured to four men of her personal guard standing upon the dais behind as many massive chests, to which, with a nod and a few muffled grunts, each pushed their respective burdens forward a few inches to ensure none in the hall could fail to see the contents clearly and know without question the gravity of the treasures within before opening them, revealing a veritable fortune in gold. “I would offer each of you five thousand gold jiien (five gold) as a signing bonus, and an additional five thousand gold jiien (five gold) each season as payment for joining myself and mine own two thousand professional light infantry on their march, to join the growing conflict between the Kingdoms of Cerdigon and Sefti,” with a word and a promise each man could find themselves ten thousand jiien richer, no small sum ~ entire Northern kingdoms had net less than ten thousand jiien in profit this season, and they were sure to know it.
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 11, 2014 19:43:58 GMT
D'Artagnan's smile seemed to waver for a moment and Von Gerrack raised an eyebrow. The sum was princely to be sure, but expirianced fighters knew that high rewards often came with equal risk. They were experienced fighter and would know what they were stepping into.
"Your Grace, I am honored by you generosity towards myself and my lieutenants is most kind, and the esteem you show the services of our men with such a handsome offer of payment." Sir Hallark Nodded at this to show his agreement. "But I would know which side of the fray will we be joining."
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Post by psychopathickids on Oct 11, 2014 22:13:51 GMT
“Why, mine of course. The forces of Cerdigon and Sefti have battered themselves half to death already, and were little more than peasants with hunting bows and pointy sticks to begin with. It wouldn’t be beyond the capabilities of our three forces combined to take both kingdoms and split the profits three ways. This, however, is not my intention. Cadoc is a poisoner, and by all the laws and customs of the North should be publically executed. Queen Athinea, on the other hand, has a true born son of the blood, and by the traditions of the Southern Shores and much of the North besides is no rightful Queen, which are the primary reasons a minor issue of succession has become the largest war in the land since the conquests of the Survaek. I posit instead a third option. Declare for Prince Aeron, though with the express and clear understanding that his father is considered a murderer by the Crowned Republic, who should hang by the neck until death for his crimes against Sefti and the North. We will offer to support the forces of Sefti should their Queen agree to pass the crown to her son and rule as regent until he comes of age by the laws of his father’s people, and agree to give all who support Prince Aeron under the Usurper total immunity and name them heroes of the North and the combined Kingdoms of Sefti and Cerdigon for their support of their true and rightful prince should they lay down their arms and return home, or join with our combined forces to secure Prince Aeron’s throne,”
“In this way all those who continue to fight an increasingly desperate war for fear of what will happen to them should Sefti emerge victorious, and what Cadoc will do to those who deserted the field should he unite the thrones of Cerdigon and Sefti, much of their total army at this point I’d venture to guess, will cease to feel forced to carry on and will likely desert, some particularly fond of their young prince perhaps even coming to join us. This leaves only Cadoc and his most loyal supporters, which ensures your men will have enough loot to justify marching to Cerdigon while facing only the bare minimum of resistance, ensuring a low risk of death and a large reward in loot, and gold from my seasonal payments besides. I offer a seemingly large sum of gold only because I recognize the value of veteran professionals of such storied renown as that of yourselves and your men, and understand that a successful contract between us now may very well foster future business arrangements between the Crowned Republic and your respective companies, and neither predict large losses of life or a particularly long campaign. The war is mostly through, both sides are sick of fighting as is, and this is simply a way to diffuse the volatility of the situation, whilst ensuring the greater good of the North is protected, as well as guaranteeing Juturna finds a close friend in Prince Aeron and the combined courts of Sefti and Cerdigon,”
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 12, 2014 2:24:23 GMT
"Alleged poisoner." Was the soft mutter from Hallark, but then he spoke lounder. "Very well your grace, you may consider my men at your disposal." He had doubts on how pleased anyone would be from a third party joining this war. In the end he just did what the client asked, that was the lot of a mercenary.
D'Artagnan was far more pleased at the concept than the old knight. "Mine as well my lady. We depart at your pleasure."
- The Broken Lances and D'Artagnan's Musketeers agree work for Juturna for 5 gold each at signing and 5 gold per turn each from then on.
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