Meanwhile in Aclidia... Entrances, Politics, and talk of War
Aclidia: Hall of Governance
Behind two massive bronze decorated doors lies the Hall of Governance. The domed ceiling soars high above, ornately painted with the visages of countless Aclidian Emperors and each staring straight down into the hall below, as if overseeing the daily governance of their empire. The only light source here is a straight shot of sunlight that falls through an oculus at the apex of the dome.
It is from here that the laws and by-laws of Aclidia are wrote, debated and re-wrote by the city's ruling council of lords and nobles, collectively called the Ordinatio. The Hall of Governance has only but a few rooms for such a large structure, the first and foremost of these rooms being the Rotunda. With room enough to sit all the council with all their stewards and visiting dignitaries comfortably, the floor of the Rotunda is sunk into the ground. Six rows of stone benches descend down to a raised stone dais where the Provincial Governor sits in full view of the Ordinatio. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exits: [O]ut to the [H]illtop
With:
[OOC] Adrien Alexander Onassis
[IC] Abel
[DYN] Flavius Baro
[DYN] Baroness Scabbia D'Saavik
Winter may ravage the northern regions of this continent, but on the shores of the Aclidia the weather couldn’t be finer. The city outside is no doubt bristling with the life owed to its status as the largest port city in the province, but inside the thick walls of the Hall of Governance there is a peaceful silence, the only audible sounds coming from the part of nobles, merchants and dignitaries that have assembled on the Hall’s lower seats. At the very center of the hall, seated on his dais is a portly looking rat, swaddled in fine silks and illuminated by the light streaming in from above. This vermin is none other than Proventus Titus, Provincial Governor of the region. Also present are representatives of a dozen other houses, including the Baroness Adriana Scabbia D’Saavik herself, whom is seated to the general right of the Governor. All present are bedecked in their finest attire, and all await the arrival of a creature sent by the Baro family, whose ship landed this very morning.
The air is filled with the chit chat of local house lords and ladies. The topics range from local commerce, plans they have for their enterprises, to more mundane thing like gossip or having one of their servants flogged and sent to the arena. There is a brief pause as a servant by the door, a slender fox dressed in uniform declares in a loud and obnoxious voice that is impossible to miss, "Introducing Flavious Baro, son of Cadius Baro the third, Baron in the Empire." To go with this regal introduction a young weasel come to a pause in the door way. His fur is light, almost gold in color. His snout wears the smug expression that one usually associates with one who has come to live with wealth, power, and the will to use it. Dressed in the finest silks money can by the weasel takes a step forward into the room.
Ah, so the creature himself has arrived? Adriana, her attention previously buried in conversation with a nearby stoat, pulls her gaze up to meet the entrance of Flavious Baro. In truth, he’s not very far from what she expected, the air of a spoilt life of leisure flooding in his wake like a miasma. However, years of experience have taught her to never fully judge a new creature by his initial appearance, and so as would be expected of a polite noble, she in recognition of his entrance with the other assembled nobility. The prevailing silence is first broken by the Governor, who remains seated in his place on the dais. “Welcome, Flavius Baro.” He says, pausing to take a drink of wine from the goblet perched on the arm of his seat. “I trust the seas were fair on your journey?”
The young weasel pauses when addressed too. The air of a spoiled life is not too far from the truth really. His boots alone are worth enough to feed ten families for a year. His fur is well groomed, if a bit scruff about the edges, and like the governor the weasel sports a bit of a pot gut as well, just not on the same level as the rat. Flavius makes a grand sweeping bow to the governor, "You do me too much honor Sir, to put on this wonderful affair for me." The weasel's tone is certainly confident, if borderline arrogance. Standing up again, he says, "The trip was pleasant enough, the seas of Aclidia are truly breath taking, just like the city itself." The weasel smirks, "To celebrate my safe arrival father has sent you a gift my Lord, several cases of the finest Imperial wine from the Baro vinyards." Flavius then adds with a chuckle, "The best tasting wine in the empire back home. Please do forgive me if you find one case missing."
“Oh, did he?” Proventus sits a little straighter in his seat at this news of an offering, his goblet making a good deal of contact with his lips as he slurps down more of the crimson red fluid. “That is most gracious of him, but a shame about that last case. A shame indeed. Still, I shall extend to him my thanks. And now… ahem, yes…” But what’s to come next remains unannounced, obstructed by the rim of Governor’s goblet. All he manages is a lazy wave of his free hand, at which the first of the noble representatives begin making their way down the chamber to greet Baro. Most of them appear to be of little consequence, a great number being of the multitude of rich families from the southern lands. The only noble beast from anywhere north of the city appears to be Alyssane Ironarm, who gives a gruff nod before introducing herself and then moving on. The minutes drag on… the nobles droll on, until the line slowly starts to wind down, at its very end perched the Baroness D’Saavik.
The weasel can feel the minutes tick by from his life that he will never get back. Minutes he would rather spend pounding his head against a brick wall. Like a seasoned noble he keeps his smile fortified and shakes paws with those that need shaking, tells the jokes that need telling, and listening to the drivel that most noble drone on about. He breaths a sigh of relief when he comes to Adriana. Finely, just one more. "They really should put warning signs on these parties. I think I am going to need my paw looked at after shaking hands with so many nobles. It’s starting to hurt."
But the young noble has no need to worry about the state of his hand with this ferret, because Adriana keeps hers clasped behind her back when she approaches him. “I quite agree. These functions take their toll.” Her voice is quite pleasant, as is the courteous smile that plays her lips. “I am the Baroness Adriana Scabbia D’Saavik. My lands yield the finest wines from this corner of the Empire, so I would not be surprised if my name crossed your father’s words.” Polite... Courteous… Adriana is every bit of the lady that one could expect, except that her smile doesn’t quite make it to the corners of her eyes.
The weasel's eyes go wide, "You are THAT Baroness Adriana Scabbia D'Saavik? Wow..." the weasel chuckles, "You can be sure your name does cross fathers words, none of which I can repeat in polite company. I'm sure you do the same every now and again so it evens out." Flavius grins, folding his paws behind his back he makes a formal bow, "It is a pleasure to meet you finally, legends of your beauty and grace have reach the lands back home." The plump bellied weasel leans back then scratching his chin. He gives a sly smirk as he speaks again, "I must admit though I am a little confused. You said your lands produce the finest wine. Does this me you bought MY lands why I was traveling here?"
A gracious smile is repaid for his compliments, the Baroness returning his bow with a slight one of her own. “Indeed, I know of your family quite well, although I will not be so brash as to pay any disrespect to your name whilst you are visiting. His jest causes her smile to waiver ever so slightly, but Adriana refuses to allow it to obstruct pleasant conversation. “So, how long do you plan to be with us? This far from home I am sure your father will be missing your counsel before long?”
The weasel snerks, barely able to contain his laughter. "I must apologize, my lady. If you truly believe that my father misses my counsel then you brew better wine than I thought." He licks his lips, "Hmmm, hold that thought. Um, hey servants. There is something wrong with this paw? See how it is completely devoid of wine? Do fix that yeah?" Turning back to Adriana, Flavius smiles pleasantly, "I’m sure father will manage back in the empire with my brothers and sisters. As for me I am 'delighted' to say that I will not be parting Aclidia's fine company in the near future. How about you? Any hopes to head back to the home land anytime soon?"
Years of practice are all that keeps Adriana’s smile from fading into the coldness of her eyes, and she decides to overlook that comment altogether. His demand of wine and the means by which requests it goes to further cement her impression of the beast, but as ever she refrains from discrediting him entirely, or at least until she can gain a full measure of him. “Well, I am happy to hear that they will continue to thrive with your absence. And as for myself, I have no foreseeable plans to return to the Empire. My place is on these shores.”
The portly weasel twirls the wine in his glass and sniffs it. A look of pure joy crosses his face, "Ah...excellent. I think by now I have the stuff running through my veins." He nods to the ferrets comment. "I’m glad to hear that you are staying. I have a feeling that things would just be boring around these parts without you..." A moment of seriousness crosses the weasels face. "Things that you build up should not be left to ruin. They have far more value than the things simply given to you." Then the noble takes a sip of the wine and the seriousness is gone, "As much as I would like to believe that our grand governor has summoned all these people here for my benefit, I get the impression that he is just using my arrival as an excuse to get the old gang together for something else. Any idea what that might be?"
The Baroness inclines her head in agreement. “Indeed. To earn something is a far greater achievement than to simply have it handed to you.” The tone and smile are still there, but even the very dim or the very drunk could not help but notice the verbal slight in her words. Leaving him with little room to muster a response to the affront, Adriana steps to the side, allowing him ample room to find his way to a seat among the rest of the Ordinatio. “Your impression is not unfounded. An event recently took place south of our walls that I wish to bring to the attention of Governor Titus. Your arrival suitably coincided.”
There is some confusion in this for Flavius. He pauses a moment before he can process. Did Adriana just say SHE called this meeting? How very...interesting. "Well, that doesn't deflate my ego at all." The weasel makes a chuckle, "Before you start, would you permit me to have my servants bring in those cases of wine I promised the governor? After all, politics can not be discussed with out a certain degree of wine." Flavius says with a smirk.
Abel stands nearby, waiting for the command. He keeps his head bowed while he waits.
The balance of power within the Aclidian province is no great secret to the nobles assembled here, and it will become more apparent the longer Flavius stays in the city. With a curt nod of approval Adriana retreats a few steps, ensuring a clear path for the weasel’s retinue to present his offerings. Behind her, still slouched in his seat, Proventus Titus waits, looking more of an oversized expectant dibbun than an Aclidian Governor.
The weasel snaps the fingers of his free paw while taking a long swig of wine. "Abel, bring in the special case of wine and present it to his Governorship. Do be quick about it." The weasel says with out really turning to address abel. Making his way across the room the weasel has a confident swagger, much akin to a pirate captain walking across the deck of his ship. He pulls up his desinated chair and firmly plants himself into the seat.
Abel is up instantly. "Yes Sir." He exits the room and returns with a rather heavy looking container. He carries it before the Governor and places it at his feet with a bow. "A gift from the Baro Family, your Lordship." Then he quickly retreats to his original position.
Wine. The ever-welcome gift in the sight of Proventus Titus. Being just another slave amongst many, Abel is suitably disregarded by the bodyguards that hoist the wine around to the back of the Governor’s seat. Clearly, Proventus is in no mood to share /his/ gift. The portly rat gives the usual jumble of gratitude, cut and interrupted by the occasional draft of wine. When all is said and done, this leaves Adriana as the only creature left standing on the sunken floor, and with her hands clasped behind her she turns to face the gathering. “Governor Titus. Members of the Ordinatio.” She begins by addressing both attending parties, as is the norm for any beast addressing the council on official business. “As you are no doubt aware, three weeks ago a slave trader from the Northlands brought a captured tribal to our city. Further examination revealed this savage to be one of several regicides that slew members of the royal family of the Haradic Kingdom, the very same that the Haradics were incapable of containing within their own borders. As part of our treaty with them after our victory in the Southern Wars, we consented that any of these regicides that fell into our hands would be given over to the Kingdom, so that the proper justice could be administered. In accordance with the treaty, the tribal was sent south with a guard of Aclidian soldiers to escort her. Rumors are already abounding in our city that the savage was never delivered, and I have received news that the valiant legionnaires sent as her guard were slaughtered to the last.” The Baroness allows a pause, her eyes moving to meet Proventus Titus, and then roaming around the hall to the seated nobles. “My lords, our streets will soon by crying for retribution to this horrendous act.”
The grin on Flavius's face extends to either side of his mouth. "How exciting." He says aloud, but mostly to himself. He holds up his empty glass of wine as a hint for someone to refill it. For once he is surprisingly quiet as he listens in to the Baroness.
Abel steps closer with a flagon of wine and pours some of its contents into the waiting glass.
In the complete stillness that envelopes the Hall even the slightest of sounds is audible, and as Flavius’ seat is no more than a few steps from the center of the space, Adriana has little trouble picking up the self-intended phrase. In her estimation the younger noble likely has very little experience with civil unrest, but the baroness seizes on is words all the same. “Exciting you call it, Lord Baro? Ten Aclidians lay dead at the feet of a barbarian. A brute. One that the Haradic Kingdom allowed to wander the land without any concentrated effort to capture her themselves, and because of this our citizens have perished. Treaty or no, our citizens will demand war as a response to this and no decree from Emperor Tacitus will dissuade their minds.” A silence follows these words, stagnating in the air before the entire hall erupts in a clamor of voices. Some curse the ferret, others cry for patience. But even more rise to back her, baying for war like rabid dogs.
Flavius tilts his head to the side, scratching his chin as he listens. Truth be told, war doesn't bother him too much. He would be safe here behind the front lines in any event. He is more worried about his own profits than anything else. Flavius thinks for a long moment; while the nobles do what nobles do best, descend into total anarchy. "Quite the turn of events for a first day, eh, Abel? I think I might learn to like this place." The weasel stands up from his seat shouting in a pleasant tone but loud enough to be heard, "Nobles, Ladies. Please calm yourselves. We are the leaders of this city. Not small children who grow panicked at the first sign of trouble." He laughs, "let us look at this from a practical point of view. The best option for this barbarian nation would be to help us find this murderer. If not we will have to find a way to calm the peasantry, throw them a bone of some kind." Finely the weasel shrugs, "And in the end, if we do go to war...we crush them." Flavius says matter of factly.
Abel nods. "Indeed sir." He otherwise remains quiet.
Even amidst the commotion Adriana picks up on the young Baro’s calls for order, and she finds a small vindication for refraining from discrediting him growing inside her. He may still prove himself to be as spoiled, overfed and under-disciplined as she suspects, but somewhere he has a streak of nobility in him after all, and between his calls for civility and a loud banging produced by Proventus Titus slamming his empty goblet against the arm of his chair several times, the Ordinatio slowly settles back into a uneasy quiet. “We have the young Baro’s opinion on this matter, but you Lady D’Saavik have not yet stated your own estimation. You brought this confirmation to us, so what is your belief on the matter?” Proventus’ booming voice fills the hall, drowning out any lingering murmurs until once again all attentions are drawn back to Adriana. “The Haradics lost this savage once already. It would be unwise to trust them again, Lord Baro. The citizens of Aclidia will demand only one response to this tragedy, and although war will cost the lives of many, we can take from them ten-fold in what we lose in both slaves and gold, and more importantly, it would remove the blemish from the honor of our empire.” And with that, Adriana turns on her heel and ascends the steps to her place among the stone benches, leaving her intent unspoken, but still undeniable.
Flavius nods to the ferret as she walks away. He can just imagine the first letter he is going to write home, 'hey dad, a war started on my first day here, and believe it or not it wasn't my fault.' The weasel leans back, whispering to the squirrel attendant beside him, "What is your take on this Abel? Speak freely, preferably while you pour more wine."
Abel holds up the flagon, pouring more wine into the glass, whispering, "Well, Master, it seems to me a full blown war may be, er...costly. It is my humble opinion, sir, that a final diplomatic effort should be tried, before drastic action." he pauses, then adds, "A wise beast once said, Master, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar..."
The weasel grins as he gulps down the glass of wine. "I have heard the estate is to the south, so it should be safe from any battles...war would actually be good for the slave trade actually." Flavius rubs at his chin, "But anything to the north will cost more to bring in, the shipping trade will become even more important. I should look into that before war officially breaks outs..."
Abel doesn't show his reaction to the mention of more slaves. "Of course, Master. Your judgment is wise, sir."
Proventus Titus fingers fidgeting with his empty goblet, his considerable weight shifting to sit a little straighter under the uncomfortable gaze of the nobles surrounding him. He doesn’t seem to have the presence of mind to demand a refill, and without anything to drink the rat finds himself unable to use the vessel as an excuse for silence. Finally, the governor fixes his gaze on Adriana. “It is the Emperor’s decree that the legions take no aggressive action. Our duty is to uphold the Empire’s borders, not--.” But the Proventus finds his words drowned out, and by the very ferret to which he’s speaking. “Is it not our obligation to also uphold the honor of the Empire, Governor Titus? Or do we allow this insult to out great civilization to go unpunished?” Agreement rings out from a majority of the Ordinatio at her words, and Proventus finds himself immensely interested in his goblet once more.
Flavius narrows his eyes at this whole affair. "Well...this is interesting," he whispers to Abel. "Back home, how many governors do you know who would let their barons back talk them like that?" The weasel is practically giddy with excitement. He rises from his seat, once again saying in a loud voice, "Honor will be satisfied with time. If war is unavoidable then we should at least look like we are trying to make it as less costly as we can. We should throw a day of mourning for the lost soldiers, and then take the peoples’ minds off of this business. Make them focused on something else. Perhaps suspend work for a day so families can spend time doing..." the weasel twirls the glass of wine in his hand, "do what ever peasant families do together. Maybe throw a feast and celebration of our dominance over the land...something frivolous. It doesn't matter the occasion, just /something/ to distract the people from marching up the steps of the Hall of Governance and demanding out right war for a day or two."
Abel replies in a barely audible whisper, "It would seem to me, Master, that his Lordship is an inefficient leader..."
Lucky for Abel that he has the presence of mind to not declare such a truth aloud, because it would likely cost him his head. The only thing that Proventus Titus cannot abide is being accused of acting as a living marionette, no matter how accurate the charge. In typical fashion the ugly head of unrest again rears amongst the council, and before long the hall is pulled into a mire of debate, broken only when the Governor hurls his metal goblet against the stone floor, putting an end to the discussion with a clatter of steel and stone. “Enough!” He bellows, pulling himself up to his feet and descending the steps of the dais. “The advice of this council will be taken into account. The Ordinatio is dismissed.” From his place at the center of the hall, the rat finds the gaze of the Baroness D’Saavik, with whom he exchanges a long look that is almost lost amongst the gaggle of nobles now making their way up and out of the hall. Tomorrow, Governor Titus will send out a decree with the result of his deliberations, but at least between himself and the sable ferret the verdict is already known.
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