Birthright: Ruins of Empire (Inactive)

Game Master Elton

Sound off here with your Kingdom and your character and we will start with the first Domain turn.

Roesone is ready as is Gaius

ETN is here

Endier here.

Ilien signing in.

Mieres checking in.

Looks like that's just about everybody.

Yeah you're waiting on me. :)

We will rp the hall.
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The ballroom within Castle Aglondier was built to be expensive. This was before Rogr's time, thankfully. The ballroom was always large and looked like it was fit for a palace. All of the people invited to the ball would come and wait at the walls, and a few stood around, waiting to be grabbed and danced with.

Despite his humble origins, Moergan Neptuine dresses like a prince of his church. He wears a jewel-encrusted gold pectoral holy symbol of Nesirie over classic, elegant clothes covering fine breastplate. His shoulder-length brown hair, which would look comfortable beneath a ship captain’s hat, and his neatly groomed beard are streaked with premature silver. His eyes are steel gray with a twinkle of mischief.

He casually approaches the Baroness of Mieres and asks, "Lady baroness, it's not often we are at the same place and the same time. We could have many mutual interests. May I have the pleasure of a dance?"

"Why, thank you, Your Grace." -- how does one address a "High Priest"? A Catholic Archbishop is "Your Grace," an Orthodox Patriarch is "Your Beatitude," and the Pope, of course, is "Heya, Frankie!" But I don't seem to have rules for Nesiriean High Priests in my copy of DeBretts. -- "It's been far too long since you've visited our shores."

The new baroness of Mieres didn't look bad in her ballroom gown, just a few seasons out of fashion. She was also a bit too muscular and heavy-set to seem truly beautiful against the glittering socialites on the dance floor, and the relative absence of jewelry -- a formal tiara and earrings were all -- looked rather dowdy. On the other hand, she moved across the floor like a weightless wisp of cloud, or perhaps like a panther, and her eyes noticed everything, like a cat.

"Perhaps I could beg a favor of you, Your Grace. The scrum at the entrance was a bit confusing, and I left my scorecard at home. Perhaps you could tell me who the players are, and how they play?"

Her white-blonde hair and slight accent marked her as an outsider, probably from the far north.

Your Grace seems fine. I've no idea, which is why I said Lady Baroness which is entirely historically incorrect. In Birthright, barons are higher than counts and less than dukes. According to this, everything under royalty is Your Lordship.

The high priest is an average, untrained dancer and under no illusions that is any better. But the ball is as much about dancing as drinking, it happens but is not the main course. "Of course, Your Ladyship. I will do my best."

As they turn on the dance floor, he nods and whispers, "That's the new Baron Roesone. He seems very militant. His politics have yet been announced."

Then, he nods and whispers, "He's the Count of Ilien, our host. He is a wizard. I don't know if he enjoys politics."

Then, he nods and whispers, "And he is the Count of Endier, a powerful guilder here on the mainland. He definitely enjoys politics, but I don't know what his current game is."

He continues to whisper, "Those are the major players in the room. I thought more were invited. We shall see. When we have more time, I would appreciate the opportunity to discuss our mutual interests."

Your Grace seems fine. I've no idea, which is why I said Lady Baroness which is entirely historically incorrect. In Birthright, barons are higher than counts and less than dukes. According to this, everything under royalty is Your Lordship.

Half the fun of a nobility campaign is figuring out the titles, "Your Grace." <evil grin>. I'd be rather relieved, actually, if we go by the British everyone's-a-lordship rule, as it simplifies matters greatly. Of course, given that there's something like 2000 years of feudal tradition involved, it would not be inappropriate for the "traditional" title for the leader of Roesone to be "His Magnificence" or "His Archpuissance" or something.

The high priest is an average, untrained dancer and under no illusions that is any better. But the ball is as much about dancing as drinking, it happens but is not the main course. "Of course, Your Ladyship. I will do my best."

As they turn on the dance floor, he nods and whispers, "That's the new Baron Roesone. He seems very militant. His politics have yet been announced."

Then, he nods and whispers, "He's the Count of Ilien, our host. He is a wizard. I don't know if he enjoys politics."

Then, he nods and whispers, "And he is the Count of Endier, a powerful guilder here on the mainland. He definitely enjoys politics, but I don't know what his current game is."

"I think I met his lordship of Endier before, when I was part of a trade delegation some years back. The years have treated him well; he's not aged a day." Of course he hasn't; he's literally the same age as his brother was then, but Lilibet probably doesn't know that. "A sharp man and an even sharper negotiator, but fortunately for us, the Count at that time didn't make full use of him. To his loss, evidently. Probably not a man to underestimate, Your Grace."

He continues to whisper, "Those are the major players in the room. I thought more were invited. We shall see. When we have more time, I would appreciate the opportunity to discuss our mutual interests."

"Of course. A glass of wine on the terrace in a few minutes, or something more prolonged later?"

Jaris makes his way along, looking at the decorations and thinking. He wears noble finery of deep blues and greens with gold trim. His clothes fit well the image the man has cultivated of himself, a man for whom matters of coin never sleep. The jewelry on his long, skinny fingers makes its point without being overly gaudy.

In moments a retainer of his comes up to him with a small book, showing it to him after a bow. He furrows his brow a bit, and sends the man away after a brief look at the page.

Looking around once more, he accepts a glass of wine from the waitstaff and takes a small drink, and his demeanor visibly softens.

Gaius Anphelan Roesone strides through the reception hall stiffly the "dress" his valet had forced on him was absolutely a disaster. The damn thing just was too much. He much preferred the slim cool clothes of his mother's people.

Though the colors matched his own self made heraldry it just had too many layers for his taste. He was proud though of how after the hours of sitting there like some doll be had put his foot down and had only taken a simple steel circlet to mark his station.

The absence of his sword was distracting however he understood the need for neutrality and the lack of arms but it just seemed unnatural. "Might as well make the best of this then." He mumbled to himself as he strode around the room looking for enlightening conversation. He knew some of the other nobility by practice of rote with his valet Stephen but he was at a loss now. The only lord he knew by face was the host the Lord of Illien by the mere two seconds he had to introduce himself to the host.

"Of course. A glass of wine on the terrace in a few minutes, or something more prolonged later?"

Moergan continues leading the dance as the man, but it's clear to both of them that the baroness has enough grace for both of them. "That would be a treat, Your Ladyship. I'll find a drink and meet you there." He purposely stays vague with a mischievous grin. The music starts the finale to give the baroness the last words.

"It will be nice to get out in the cool of the evening. I've never liked ballrooms."

Lilibet glances around and notices Gaius tugging uncomfortably at his collar. Silly fool, she thought. He's the King; he can dress in bearskins if he likes and insist that his retinue do the same. She thinks back to what she had read about him. A warrior type, raised to the sword and not the pen. But probably a valuable ally, and I'm sure his troops will be trained to a fine terror.

As the dance ended, she steps over to the buffet, getting herself a drink from the punch bowl. Keep a clear head, girl, she warns herself. Mustn't --- GLRGH! What do they put in this stuff? It tastes like berries, honey, and maple syrup! I wouldn't feed this to a hummingbird!

The sun begins to hang low, painting the sky in a myriad of yellows.

Gaius finds himself picking over the food at the buffet table and hesitates at the punch bowl wondering if he should take a drink. He studies the noble woman in front of him for a time waiting his turn.

Noticing her face he frowns and asks "That bad eh?"

"Too sweet for my tastes, that's all, Lord.... Roesone, is it? I don't believe we've met. My name is Lilibet, Baroness Mieres. There, I've just shocked you by cutting through twenty minutes of formal protocol." She smiles. "I suspect you've even less taste for protocol than I."

"Quite m'lady. Though I must say I think I prefer your form of protocol. " He grins and bows slightly. "Mieres lays across the sea does it not? I do hope your voyage was pleasant? "

(you did meet the Seadrake.)

On the dance floor, Moergan separates from the baroness with slight nod. He slowly circuits the room subtly looking for a servant with the vintage that he prefers.

"Quite m'lady. Though I must say I think I prefer your form of protocol. " He grins and bows slightly. "Mieres lays across the sea does it not? I do hope your voyage was pleasant? "

"Sea voyages are always pleasant, I find. But, then, excitement is fun, yes?"

"And, now, if you will excuse me,..." she trails off. And then heads to the terrace.

Spotting Lilibet heading towards the terraxe, Rogr stands, taking the opportunity of the break between tunes to clear his throat loudly. "Lords and ladies, welcome to the hall of the Free City of Ilien. Such a meeting has not occurred in the short time that I have held the regency of this land, and so it is that I welcome you with open arms." Count Aglondier's voice is strong and clear, a ringing baritone, and while his words are fair and courtly, traces of his common upbringing remain.

Rogr gazes around the room. "Later on, I hope to have a short council with my fellow heads of state, but for now, please be merry, and indulge yourselves as you wish in the hospitality of Ilien, the land that is friend to all."

His official greeting over, Rogr walks smoothly over towards the small orchestra to speak to the conductor.

Moergan raises his glass to toast his host with a smile. When the count heads toward the music, Moegan heads to another entrance for the terrace and finds a private location to be seen, not overheard, and ostensibly to enjoy the breeze and beautiful view of Ilien.

"It's lovely out here, isn't it, your grace? Almost high enough up here to catch the sea air, the one that smells like the ocean instead of the shore." Lilibet turns to Moergan. "I'm sorry, I'm woolgathering, aren't I?"

"I've been warned about you, your grace. You're the smartest man in the room, and you have no army, which makes you the most dangerous. You can afford to play the longest game. It would be nice to have that luxury."

Gaius watches after the baroness as she leaves, And so the games begin he turns to watch their host for a time talk to the orchestra and muses on what his cousin had told him of the Count of Illien, he knew in the past Illien had come to Roesone aid against their mutual enemy to the north but would that help extend even now with his new rule? It was something to consider.

"Warned, your lordship? Dangerous? Surely, you exaggerate to make a point." Moergan shows genuine surprise. "What long game do you not have the luxury to play, your lordship?"

Lilibet shrugs. "People don't generally die when their priests disagree over angels dancing over the head of a pin. People do die when barons disagree on who gets the tax money. I read somewhere about a baron who had carved into the stocks of all of his ballista the phrase 'the ultimate argument of princes.' But that's an argument you will never need to make."

"The great powers--Boeruine, Avanil, Ghoere--threaten all the people of the south. But you don't have to be involved in that. The Baroness of Roesone fought four wars to keep from being made a pawn on the path to the Iron Throne -- I'm sorry, I'm mixing my metaphors, aren't I? You don't have pawns on paths."

Moergan sincerely listens and replies, "No, I don't have pawns on paths, nor do I have any disagreements on tax money. My concern is of the organization of the faith of our people."

After a comfortable pause, "However, people do die when their priests disagree. Many battles were fought in the schism of the Impregnable Heart of Haelyn from the Orthodox Imperial Temple. Followers of Rournil violently carved Medoere from old Diemed and the Orthodox Imperial Temple. So I don't think princes and barons have the monopoly on war."

After a breath, "Your lordship, if I may, you sound bitter and trapped in the machinations of the great powers. I would have thought the Straits provided an excellent shield or at least cover from them. 'Out of sight; out of mind,' so to speak. What do you dream of doing that you see too many obstacles in your way?"

The stars of the night began to show their face. First the evening star, then the moon. The evening star is particularly bright, even though the sun is dipping below the horizon.

As the evening wears on Gaius finds himself quite bored with the procedures here, he had hoped to find more like minded nobility to talk with however most seem uninterested in the cause of a just society no matter the race. He had also thought that the lady of Aerenwe would show however, he had not seen her show up.

Jaris finishes his glass of wine, having a nearby servant pour him another before wandering about the room. He keeps his eyes open for the regents of nations near his own.

Gaius finds himself standing next to another youngish looking lord (Jaris) and he nods in greeting. "Evening." He slowly sips at his own glass of wine sparingly.

"Indeed," Jaris said. With a smirk, he continued, "It seems to be the season of young lords. Baron Roesone? How fare you tonight?"

"Honestly tired of waiting around I should be back in Roesone. So much to do there, forgive me I ramble. What was your name sir?" Gaius asks with a small bow of his head in forgiveness, before going back to studying the other man from the corner of his eye sipping slowly his attention apparently on the dancers around the ball.

"Jaris Riegon. Occasions like these are great for business, I've found."

Having instructed the musicians to begin a stately, triumphant piece, Rogr Aglondier turns back to the room. In his simple yet immaculate blue robes of state, he accepts a delicate white wine fom a passing servant and moves into the crowd. Spotting the regents of Roesone and Endier, he moves towards them with a friendly expression.

"Welcome, my lords," he begins, with a nod to each. "I hope you are enjoying your first state visits to the Free City?"

Jaris smiles. "Yes, it is nice to get out of my keep from time to time."

Gaius nods in greeting to the master of Illien. "It is a grand city your grace. You must come visit Proudglaive sometime, I am sure we could accommodate you and your council."

Sorry, got slammed at work for a bit. Am I still out on the terrace or did we lose interest in that scene?

still waiting for your answer and the GM to start

well, you guys are going so well that I don't feel the need to step in, yet.

Domain turns?

You want to start domain turns? Okay.

Roll Domain initiative.

That means, roll 1d20+Wisdom score. :)

Spiderfell Domain Initative: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5

Ghoere Domain Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Diemed Domain Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Eastern Temple of Nesirie initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Endier initiative: 1d20 ⇒ 13

Roesone initiative
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Jaris, you go first. You won the domain initiative. Declare a domain action.