"haha! Cousin Val!" He says joyously before completely ignoring your hand and giving you a big hug. "It is good to see that the story of your demise was exaggerated, I would hate to have to put you on the list... Oh! That's right! Yes! unofficially I've been investigating the deaths of certain Chelaxian nobles, I came because I couldn't overlook one inside our family, even if you are half a world away." the smile on his face is most uncommon to see, but a welcome sight.
He spins around as a servant goes by, plucking two Jeggare vintages off the try. "they serve our wine even in this country, amazing!" he hands a glass your way, and take a sip of his. "Radovan is outside in the carriage, this is not really the place for him, nor does it seem particularly threatening inside this 'cave' tonight." he makes obvious jests about his career as Pathfinder.
An unexpected whisper comes to your ear, "Its good to see you in the company of such quality men tonight. I hope something comes of that pairing between you and Lord Durahan... Even if he is creepy, there's a lot of potential for your family there."
Lady Gabrielle's mother comes walking up to the group waving her fan at her face, "Well, family. It was nice seeing everyone this evening, but I believe it's time for me to retire. I feel that my presence here any longer may inhibit the young Lady Rubicon from garnering the attention of all the fine young suitors at this soiree" she says with a playful wink. "I will see you all soon! And don't forget to visit! I love you all!" and as usual, before anyone can get a word in edgewise, she removes herself and heads towards the front entrance.
Val is very disturbed at this news of deceased nobles back home.
"You'll have to tell me more about this. Maybe here isn't the best place, however. Shall we head to the garden, cousin?"
"Yes, it is quite amazing that they even remember us, the Cheliaxians."
He accepts the glass, and takes a sip.
"Ahh, refreshing. This reminds me of home."
"I cannot answer your questions, my Lords and Ladies. If I could, I am certain I would have achieved more than just Damehood. And The Guardian of Taldor? That's new." She says with a smile.
As Kyra comes about, she smiles at her new friend. "I can tell you again, another time, if you would like Lady Kyra. Your brother is quite kind, M'Lady." She says the last with a small glance at the Lord Commander.
She notices as the Lords Rook come around the corner, and is startled to see Thorn on Constantine's shoulder. When he is elegantly handed to her, she delicately lifts him in cupped hands, a look of minor horror on her face. She immediately glances at the Lord Commander in anger, but quickly looks away. It is my fault, after all. I hurt him due to my concern of what he might say to the Commander...
"It is quite nice to meet you. Thank you, Ser Constantine, for bringing Thorn to me." She looks again at the Lord Commander, and watches as Lady Florainne makes her appearance, and disappearance.
"My Lords and Ladies, if you will excuse me. I need to tend to my friend. I believe it will only be a short time before the ladies are called for their brandy, and the men to their cigars, so until then, please enjoy yourselves. Though, Lady Kyra, in case we do not see each other again this evening, please tell your brother that I am quite grateful for his kindness this evening. He is truly a man of honor." She bows, careful of the pixie cupped in her hands, and heads to the garden where she could leave him with his siblings. He was napping, she noticed, his bent wing looking awkward. She frowned, disappointed in herself.
As she exits the main room, the coolness of the garden is pleasing, though goosebumps pop up on her skin. She releases a shrill whistle, and is immediately surrounded by pixies coming from every direction. Anyone looking hears a cacophony of high-pitched voices, and can see as a few of the larger pixies lift Thorn from Nev's hands and carry him away.
"It seems that there's someone, or a group of someones who are picking off Chelaxian nobility one by one. The only thing all these murders have in common so far, is that they were all closeted dissenters to the rule of Thrune... And I had to dig hard for that conclusion." He pauses for a bit and takes a sip of his wine. "Plus, being our strongest connection to Taldor, the family would hate for anything untowards to happen to you... To say nothing of my personal feelings about your task here. The loss of my family is always most unfortunate and in your case, the resultant loss of our country would be tenfold." He sets his wine down on the bannister, but before he can continue he is interrupted by the sudden appearance of Lady Atropa from the party.
"Begging your pardon, Milady. We thought this to be a good area for a private conversation...Oh my!" He seems to take in all of Nev and her dealings with the Pixies before continuing. [/b]"That is an interesting, if not, functional choice of attire for this evening, if you don't mind my saying so."[/b]
Kyra seemed more that happy for the addition of the two Rooks to the conversation, quite sure the old man would provide some interesting entertainment. She blushed slightly as Lady Eiredor left them with a slightly embarrassing little compliment to her charm, Kyra mentally reassured herself to keep Argos about her lest she attract too much attention. She particularly noted Nev though when she mentioned her brother and glanced to the Lord Commander "Oh I didn't realize you'd met earlier..." Kyra said, watching as the girl seemed to focus on the Lord Commander again and noted it.
"Oh my, well I do hope we'll see each other again later, but I'll be sure to pass it on otherwise." Kyra said, waving as Nev left. "My, sounds like something happened, I wonder what he did?" Kyra asked with a posed eyebrow, looking curiously over to the Lord Commander. She let the issue drop as Gabrielle stepped closer to speak with her.
"Oh, thank you Gabrielle. It was quite the dance. It isn't that often I get to cut loose like that. But yes, it is amazing what some people will talk about from beyond closed doors - scandalous even." Kyra gave Gabrielle a knowing smile and a small nod, indicating in the affirmative. "Though, I wouldn't want to discuss what I heard with anyone else you didn't trust. Why, it could ruin a Lady's reputation..."
Being entirely distracted by her concern for Thorn, she didn't notice the Chelaxian's in the slightest. Looking up at Val and the unknown man, she blushes slightly. "Valignatir, I apologize for my interruption, I fear Thorn had too much fun this evening and I thought it would be best to send him home. I would have taken him myself, but I believe Gabrielle would have found a way to keep me here at his expense." She pauses, looking at the two men curiously. "Thank you, for the compliment, Ser. I shall leave the two of you to your conversation." She says with a small bow.
"While your concern is appreciated, cousin, you and I have nothing to worry about. House Jeggare is absolutely loyal to House Thrune. We have proven this again and again."
"Oh, Lady Nev! You should stay. This is my cousin, Varian Jeggare. He's actually a Venture-Captain with the Pathfinder Society in Cheliax. A very prestigious position, I assure you."
"Varian, this is Nev Atropa, savior of Proncess Eutropia and a brave warrior on the fronts of the Worldwound. Quite the exciting woman, if I do day so myself."
Val smiles over at Nev, inviting her to stay and talk.
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Lady Gabrielle takes a moment to give her mother a proper goodbye, happy that she appears to have met Lady Florianne's expectations for the soiree. She had experienced favorable interactions with several prominent individuals, and another was in her reach.
"Ser Rook," she says after her mother leaves. "If my memory is correct, I believe you and your company have spent time in Mendev. I worry for my brother constantly, as he has stationed himself there for over a year now. What is your opinion of the situation? Has there been progress?" she asks.
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"Though, I wouldn't want to discuss what I heard with anyone else you didn't trust. Why, it could ruin a Lady's reputation..."
"Fortunately, we will have a golden opportunity to discuss such feminine affairs very soon!" she replies, entirely interested in what Kyra may have discovered.
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"It is quite a pleasure to met another member of the Jeggare family! I am certain your position keeps you quite busy. And thank you, Valignatir, but I'm really quite dull." She smiles at Val as she walks towards them, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
"What brings you to Taldor, Lord Varian?"
Constantine smiles broadly at Lady d’Apcher. ” I sincerely hope to be distinguished by more than my family one day. It is not easy for a middle son to find titles of his own.” Smoothing a hand through his hair, he waves to Nev as she walks away. ”My pleasure, my lady. Take good care of your companions. Hopefully we may exchange stories in the future.”
Gabrielle’s mother is quick to arrive and faster to leave. Constantine does not have time to respond as she vanishes into the crowd and he blinks, looking to the group. ”Your mother is as quick with an exit as I hear she is with her words.” Shaking himself from his musing, he takesthe time to respond to the lady. ”Your brother? Do you know who he joined up with? I believe the situation in Mendev is..not likely to fluctuate much. The demons seem endless and where we make inroads toward the Worldwound in one area over time, we may lose ground elsewhere.”
"Lady Atropa! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Says the half-elf as he kisses the lady's hand.
"Oh? Well, I was actually here on business, but I thought I would check in on my dear cousin before I head back to the lodge in Egorian. I see you've been treating him well here. He looks far less pale than he did last I saw him back home! Haha!" Varian says in an obvious jest to the particular shade of pale that accompanies members of house Jeggare.
A single bell chimes from the palace steeple, symbolizing that it is now time to retire to the respective areas.
Servants seem to hurriedly appear from out of nowhere to equip the garden terrace with luxurious furniture and enchanted paper lanterns.
"I believe that's our call, Milady. Perhaps we can have a deeper conversation when next we meet. Its been lovely, if not short, meeting you." Varian then looks to follow Valignatir's lead.
The servants scurry quickly from their quarters to the the grand Ballroom, ushering guests to the proper location. "Ladies to the Garden, Gentlemen to the Parlor Please!"
The Lord Commander leans in to his cousin and whispers "Maybe you could set up something a bit more private with your friend Lady Atropa? ...I find her... enchanting."
"Constantine... you may recall stories of my many brothers and uncles that should, I hope, serve as a reminder that it is also not always easy to hold on to such titles."
And, hearing the bell, he leans back in the chair, causing it to rear up on its back legs and turn in confusion. "Well, that's the bell. Time to do even less as we watch Taldor's richest men burn their lungs away."
Kyra nods to Gabrielle, noting that the men and women would soon be separated and she'd have an excellent chance to relay what she'd heard earlier. "Are things really that hopeless in Mendev?" Kyra asks with some concern to Constantine upon hearing his summation of the situation. "Well, it sounds a lot like the earlier years of the Grand Campaign. Perhaps it would serve Queen Galfrey to adopt the Rubicon way of thinking? I'm not terribly familiar with military matters but we do emphasize defensive fortification; our house motto is 'Everlasting Foundations' after all," Kyra explained, before finding herself suddenly interrupted by the bell, finding herself chuckling at Rook's sarcasm.
"Ah, there's the famous 'Inkwell' wit. Well, don't fret over it too much, magical healing goes a long way for the upper class. Argos, why don't you accompany Ser Constantine? He might find some insight in our family history!" Kyra turned and took the hand of Gabrielle as the Lord Commander backed away. "Well ladies, I do believe our presence is needed in the gardens." She said, leading the group back outside.
Argos nodded to Kyra, stepping forward to Constantine's side. "Well met Ser Constintine, I'm Argos Rubicon, Kyra's cousin." Argos held out his hand to shake Constintine's as the males of the group rounded to the parlor. "I understand if you're not terribly interested in the family history though."
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"Ladies to the Garden, Gentlemen to the Parlor Please!"
"It appears that our discussion about heroism in Mendev will have to be left unfinished," she says to Ser Constantine. "Lord Rook, it was a pleasure to meet both you and your son."
The Lord Commander leans in to his cousin and whispers "Maybe you could set up something a bit more private with your friend Lady Atropa? ...I find her... enchanting."
She gives her cousin a smile of assurance. "Only if you promise to tell her of your enchantment as soon as you can," she replies. "It would be the quickest way to overcome the distance between you."
As Kyra takes her hand, she watches the Lord Commander just long enough to see his bewilderment or his silent promise. As they walk toward the garden, she watches for a place to take Kyra aside, likely after the Princess addresses them, she assumes.
"Dame Genevieve proved rather popular tonight," she mentions as they walk. "Perhaps the metallic gown roused the gentlemen?"
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"Wit is something my father has in spades." Constantine replies with a shallow smile. He bows to the departing women before shaking Argos's hand vigorously. "While the women poison their minds, we will poison our lungs. And I'd be happy to hear of your house's history, Sir Argos. With the rumors going about, it would do well to re-affirm some of our relationships with the more military houses."
"Business, cousin? No matter, we will have plenty of time to talk about it afterwards."
Val moves across the garden, and reenters the palace, taking a detour through the wine room to pick up another glass of wine, taking a second to Detect Poison.
"Can't be too cautious, dear Varian."
He then enters the parlor, looking for the supposed gentlemen's gathering.
"Thank you, Lord Varian." Nev says as she blushes lightly. She loos at Valignatir as his cousin speaks of him, smiling at the jest. Though in a more serious note, she begins to wonder if he has been looked after at all in Taldor, with moth of the nobles treating him with little kindness.
She watches as the servants hurry from all directions, and nods at Varian as he takes his leave. "It was quite nice to meet you, Varian. I hope to see you both later!" She waves softly as they both walk away, a bit disappointed to be left alone. She wonders lightly at Valignatir's lack of a goodbye, and stands awkwardly as the servants run to and fro. She wishes that she could help, but knows that is unwise. Though she is certain that the princess likely treats her servants better than her mother ever did, she remembers an incident when she was a child. She had offered to help the servants setting the table one evening, and her mother had punished their serving girl for allowing Nev to help. She remembers the high pitched voice of her mother, telling her that it was "not a Lady's place to help the lesser." She found herself frowning in remembrance, glad that the servants at her Opparan apartments and small country house were treated well.
She stood awkwardly in the corner, waiting for Gabrielle to come out to the gardens.
"Well, it was certainly bold enough to force their attention! Still, she seemed to strike up something with my brother, but he and your cousin aren't exactly your typical Taldan nobles. I doubt many have a fetish for well curved armor." Kyra rolled her eyes with a mild degree of sarcasm. "Still, better either of them than that Chelaxian Ambassador. I don't trust him, I'll tell you more later." Kyra whispered over to Gabrielle, waving at Nev as they walked into the Gardens and she spotted the girl trying, and failing, to look inconspicuous.
"Too true. I feel like the Empire is going to be going through some tumultuous times soon, and everybody will be needing friends. Fortunately stability is something my family is well rooted in. Have you heard of Xander Rubicon? Magnificent General, depending on who you ask...hero of the Empire or coward who almost doomed it." Argos asked, though from his tone he expected an answer of no.
"Shame he never saw the end of the war, but his tactics won Taldor back the Zimar shrublands and a lot of small titles for our family." He explained, looking somewhat proud of his history.
"Speaking of business, cousin, I need to ask a favor of you... I need a place to stay for a few days, and I fear that the people of Oparra are less than friendly when they see a Chelishman. Would it be alright if I rest my feet at your home for a while? just while I investigate some rumors about the former Lord LeRoux and his involvement with the murders of other Chelish nobles?" Varian asks as they meander to the Parlor.
As all the Lords gather into the large parlor, The Princess sweeps in followed by a Auburn-haired dapper young half-orc carrying a silver spotted cat with him.
My Lords! It has been Our sincerest pleasure to offer you entertainment this evening, before Our servants offer you Our finest Varisian Brandy and Mawungi tobacco, please allow Us to introduce Biko Sabur." She gestures to the young half-orc, "Biko has been spending his youth traveling the world and learning as many styles of music as possible. He will be playing piano for you gentlemen for the rest of the evening. We do hope you enjoy the rest of your stay at the palace, and We wish you all the safest of journeys back in Opparra!" She bows and backs out of the parlor as her servants flood in around her and begin handing out large snifters filled with brandy and passing around a box full of cigars. Biko Places his cat on the top of the baby grand piano, and adjusts himself before beginning to play.
As the last of the servants returns to the hidden passages designed to keep them from view, Princess Eutropia steps out onto the balcony. "My Ladies! You all look radiant this evening!" She waves her hand to a servant who rushes off.
"Before we all sit down and gossip, We would like to present a gift to Our good friend. As you all know, We visited Mendev almost six months ago, and almost had Our life torn from Our chest. Lady Geneviéve Atropa stormed past Our guards, suffering severe wounds in the process, only to jump between a demon's would-be fatal strike and Ourself." The servant returns and hands the Princess something wrapped in a cloth.
"We have honored Lady Geneviéve by officially recognizing her as a Knighted Lady, and insisted that she return to Taldor with me. Ever the honorable and loyal subject, she has done just that... much to her dismay..." The princess gives a bight, knowing smile to Nev and begins to walk through the crowd."You see, she, unlike most of the woman in my court, doesn't enjoy the machinations of This Grand Game... Frankly, neither do We, but We see that they are necessary. Lady Atropa is not afraid to stand stalwartly for what she believes in, and certainly doesn't go about manipulating her way to a more advantageous position." Her gaze sternly analyzes Lady Sclerina for half a moment.
"Most women in this country are not capable of the feats of physical strength she has shown. Less so, the will to bodily sacrifice themselves for their country and beliefs. She is a woman that I respect and admire... We would call her an inspiration for us all." She continues through the crowd with the long cloth wrapped object in her hands, periodically waving it it emphasize her words.
As she approaches Nev she gestures for her to kneel. "Since her incredible show of valor in Mendev, and her begrudged return to Oparra, she has defended my honor on multiple occasions. On one such occasion, which has only recently reached Our ears, We heard that the Lady broke her sword..." She looks directly at Lady Atropa now, "Is this true? that your sword broke during a duel on Our behalf? That after that, you still went on to defend Our honor without it?"
When Nev confirms the Princess' suspicions, she removes the cloth from the item and hands it over to a servant who seems to appear out of nowhere. "Dame Atropa, for all your bravery... For the inspiration you are to all Taldan women... For the example you set for all Taldan Knights... And for the inspiration you are to me... We present you with this token." She ceremoniously hands a dueling longsword to the Lady. "This sword has been in the vaults for over a thousand years, Our scholars tell Us it's name is 'Pattinella’s Blade'. It is the most graceful blade in Our possession, We are also informed that it is quite functional as well. This blade, which We present to you as a Our thanks, comes with the title of Honor Guard to the Princess."
This dueling long sword is elegant in its simplicity. There are no jewels or baubles cluttering the handle or blade like other noble dueling swords. The sheath is wrapped in peculiar black leather and gives off a warm welcoming aura, and the sheath tip is capped in a light blue metal. The sword itself has its handle wrapped in the same fine black leather as the sheath, the single-loop guard is made of the same blue tinted metal as the sheath tip, but this does not exude the same aura as the sheath. When the blade is drawn, it appears to be a made of a beautiful golden bronze metal.
This item is an obscure relic of very early Taldor. The legend tells of a noble woman scorned by her lover in favor of a common woman named Pattinella. The sword trained Noblewoman challenged the commoner to a duel for the heart of her lover, and when the common woman, a virgin-sworn priestess of Shelyn, appeared for the duel, she was wielding a sword blessed by Shelyn herself. The priestess won the duel, and chose to spare the life of the noblewoman. In return, the noblewoman magically cursed Pattinella to reside inside the blade for the rest of time.
This Magical Longsword is far more than it seems. It is an intelligent item made specifically for winning duels in which the wielder is the justified party. Furthermore, It will only attempt to influence it’s wielder if they attempt to fatally injure their opponent, in which case, it strongly insists on granting mercy to their fallen foe.
It has the following mechanical statistics:
This item's special powers are not discernable by detect magic or identify. The special powers can be identified with analyze dweomer.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Int13 Wis18 Cha19 Ego15
Empathy
Senses (30ft)
The blade is constantly under the effects of Magic Aura as cast by an 8th level sorcerer with a charisma of 19. This makes the sword appear as though it were just a regular Masterwork quality blade.
The Sword will only activate these powers when attempting to fulfill its purpose:
3/d: Crushing Despair (Per 8th level Sorcerer with 19 Charisma)
Whenever the wielder is the justified party in a duel, they gain a +2 Luck Bonus to all attacks, checks, and saves in regards to their dueling opponent.
Lord Rook squints at the appearance of the cat, and shakes his head ever-so-slightly at hearing the Princess say "Mawungi." He looks over at Doctor Janus and Ser Constantine, each of whom to the best of his knowledge have far less interest in Osirion, and prepares to feign sleep once again.
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Lady Gabrielle is the first to begin applauding for Genevieve. The Honor Guard... she thinks as she congratulates Nev. I wonder if there are any oaths involved that would prevent her from seeing the Lord Commander...
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Kyra watches with interest as Eutropia addresses the women gathered, noting the clothed object handed to her and smiling for Genevieve. Her demeanor abruptly shifted though as the Princess named the exquisite looking sword which she bequeathed to her, almost visibly dropping her drink in shock.
"Pattinella's Blade?...You mean...it isn't just a...just a legend?" Kyra asked aloud, unaware she was nearly making a scene of herself before trying to regain her composure. As she heard Gabrielle clapping right next to her she placed her glass down and numbly followed up with her own applause. "I don't believe it." Kyra muttered, still somewhat shocked, and not the least bit torn between jealousy and compassion for her friend's honor.
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"Perhaps you could indulge me in the tale?" Lady Gabrielle asks as she claps. "I assume it is a story that would make Genevieve more fascinating?"
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"Her majesty just bequeathed to the Dame a holy sword of Sheyln...a thousand years old? That sword must be at least four thousand."[b] Kyra scoffed, clearly sure that Eutropa had no idea what she'd just handed over, though probably knew it was at least valuable. [b]"The legend tells that a noblewoman and a sword priestess of Sheyln dueled over the heart of a man they both favored, and the priestess wielded that very sword. The noblewoman was defeated and the priestess spared her, only to be cursed into the sword by the noble for the rest of time..." Kyra explained, hardly believing it herself.
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Lady Gabrielle gives Kyra a happy chuckle. "We will have to give her a more appropriate title than the 'Grey Lady,'" she says. "Something in reference to overcoming envy, I imagine."
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As Nev waits in the gardens, she begins to feel more and more disappointed. She wasn't quite sure what she had thought her first soirée would be like, but she had not expected the events of this evening. She wondered at Gabrielle's introduction to her cousin, and although he had apologized for his earlier behavior, she still wondered what she had done to antagonize him in the first place. She was also concerned about the new rumors about her and Val, and thought that perhaps that was the reasoning for his quick departure with his cousin. She felt as though she had done nothing but cause problems for other people this evening, and hoped that Thorn was resting comfortably at home. She owed him some pollen. As she thinks to herself, she notices Gabrielle and Kyra walking towards her and waves back.
As the princess enters th gardens, Nev smiles fondly at her. As she talks of thanking a friend, she looks about the room of gathered Ladies, wondering who she might be speaking of. Though as Mendev is mentioned, Nev looks in surprise at the princess. Hadn't she already been thanked? Nev didn't know if all of the color had drained from her face or if she was blushing a furious shade of red, but she knew she looked surprised, perhaps even mildly afraid. She kneels when the princess gestures, looking up at her with both dismay and pride.
She smiles widely as the princess hands her the sword, touching the scabbard delicately with her long fingers.
She hears Kyra's disbelief and further muttering between her and Gabrielle, and wonders what it is about.
"Thank you, your Majesty. I will continue to defend you, and Taldor, to the best of my ability! As she stands, gripping the sword, she feels more like herself than she has all night. She stood tall and straight, comforting metal and leather in her hands.
"Ah! I love good war stories. I have heard the name before. However, I would love to hear more, if you don't mind. Small victories are more than Taldor has these days."
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Lady Gabrielle takes the initiative to approach the honored Nev while she is still accessible. "Why, Genevieve, this evening is looking brighter and brighter for you!" she congratulates her friend. "Do you plan to wear Her Majesty's gift often? The scabbard is quite striking."
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"Ah, you'll find that's the pickle. Very Great Grandfather Xander never won a major victory during the Grand Campaign, and the nobles hated him for it. But that was the genius of it, over a hundred and fifty years of Taldor and Qadira looking for some final, epic confrontation and it never came." Argos shrugged. "After one senseless bloody Taldan victory, Xander assumed command of his regiment from his deceased superior and decided not to press the attack after receiving orders from the Emperor to pursue the Qadiran remnants. Instead, he did as every great Rubicon has done...and built fortifications; which repulsed the eventual counter attack. First time in decades Taldor had gained ground and not lost it within a week. And that was how we won the war, consolidate and push."
"Fortifications are useful if you are playing a defensive war. I feel that Taldor has kept to such a policy for too long, relying on our crumbling defenses rather than our keen edged blades and determination. And yet..with how the Phalanx is funded these days, I doubt they'd win against a Qadiran charge nowadays."
With a sigh, Constantine picks up a cigar from a platter offered to him and allows the servant to light it. He puffs on it, blowing a smoke ring toward the ceiling. "However, your great grandfather was a genius tactician. He acted as he ought to rather than relying simply on following orders, and that, I respect greatly, Sir Argos."
Motioning to several chairs, Constantine lowers himself down into one, facing his father and hoping Sir Argos followed. "Sir Argos..what is your opinion on the state of our military these days?"
"You feel that way, Constantine, because you are still young and have read far too little," Lord Rook replies, attempting to corner his son for a minute. "Taldor had keen edged blades, unbounded determination, and the finest army Avistan had ever seen during the Even-Tongued Conquest. Cheliax had perfect tactical timing, cunning treachery, and the diplomatic skill to win Galt and Andoran to their rebellion. I’m sure the Ambassador here would be happy to tell you how that one ended for us. What would an invasion of Qadira bring? Their wealth comes from overland trade; but our waterways are more profitable than theirs, and a ground invasion would just re-route their merchants through Jalmeray and Absalom, possibly for good. The people of Qadira, impatient and hateful, would be poor servants of the Empire, unfit to farm, build, or fight for our cause; winning them over to Taldan values would require decades of cultural immersion and leadership by the sort of example our current ruler has no interest to provide."
"We could plunder the gold and jewels of their capital, but what then? A hundred years of intense resentment at our border, and a nice chunk of material wealth that would ennoble quite a few generals but do nothing to improve the situation or long-term prosperity of Taldor."
"If you want war, think of the reasons why it matters. Qadira threatens our Southern countrymen, keeping them from sleeping easy; it threatens our towns on the Whistling Plains, forcing us to pull our armies back to the World’s End Mountains for defense. But Qadira threatens other nations equally—fleets poised to invade Absalom, armies greater than any other satrapy of Casmaron, giving even the Padishah Emperor cause for concern. If you really wanted to hurt them, you’d think creatively: a trade war, perhaps, waged by all their enemies across the Inner Sea. Or a few whispers in the ear of their Satrap, the sort of Andorian whispers that inspire men to rebel; bring the whole weight of Kelesh against them, and launch a sympathetic invasion, earning the friendship of whatever prince or princes split up Qadira in the aftermath."
Val, being close enough to hear the conversation on the Taldan army and Lord Rook's comment, walks over to join the other men at their table
"While I have studied the Even-Tounged Conquest, I feel it is inappropriate to discuss it much here."
"I will, however agree with your reasons for wanting an outright invasion of Qadira. But, Constantine, your father is right. In order to accomplish a final victory, or even a meaningful effort, Taldor's armies cannot simply march across the border."
"It must draw on the, sometimes undesirable, action of subterfuge. It has to find allies, inside Qadira and out, in order to make any headway on this rivalry."
"Many nations in the Inner Sea are already looking towards the Gateway to the East, keeping an eye on the expanding nation. Surely several nations closer to their border or with interests in keeping Qadira out of their land would be willing to lend aid to Taldor."
Argos raised a hand to decline the servant when offered in turn, and instead followed Constantine to sit down in a chair nearby, visibly relaxing the first time all night. As he was about to speak up, Lord Rook finally took a moment to say something, and Argos listened intently. "Your father speaks truthfully, I fear an adventure into Qadira like Lord-Senator Karthis wishes will gain little for Taldor but pride and a cold iron shackle to weigh us down - that's even if we won. Far more likely that we never see the end of the war at all, our armies are simply too evenly matched, and gods help us if the rest of the Kelesh Empire comes to their aid. You asked my opinion on our military? I am as concerned with the current state of affairs as you are." Sparing a moment, Argos looked around.
"Certainly funding is a problem, and will continue to be one so long as the senate refuses to tap the riches of the nobility. But I am more concerned with the infighting among the Phalanx, too many regiments answering to the squabbles of their feudal lords and bleeding our reserves. The Rubicons are luckier than most, we at least have the honor of dying at the border when the time comes, many others too often find graves in the interior. At least the Horse engages in productively clearing away the banditry plaguing the highways. Our infrastructure could use coin to revitalize it as well, and not just the forts. That was why my uncle Menelaus supported Emperor Stavian's constructions out East." Argos leaned back and steeped his hands contemplatively.
Waving a hand dismissively, Constatine shapes his head. "I meant defensively of course. Mendev suffers from sitting behind wardstones too often and it's no date I wish to see upon our nation... He pauses for a moment, looking up.
The idea of relying on devil worshippers is worse than those southern barbarians. Its be like inviting the asp into your own home to keep out the wolves. Works great until the damn thing bites you in your sleep.
Valignatir looks shocked, almost appalled at Constantine's reaction to his offer of military help.
"While I understand your reluctance, Constantine, I'm not so sure you fully understand."
"First, it would not be pure reliance. Taldor surely would have its share of the fighting. There's no way to get anyone to do its fighting for it."
"And the last part I simply could not agree with less. Those barbarians are called such for a reason: they're barbaric."
Here, Val's voice drops down, so as not to be heard.
"With my brand of help, you would obviously agree to a term, or terms, of service, and any help sent would be obliged to follow said help. Your analogy would be fitting, if only said asp could sign a legal document, and had enough intelligence to stick to said bargain."
"I agree, with a title like 'Honor Guard' and that sword, the others will think twice about besmirching your reputation again." Kyra said as she followed Gabrielle forward to the Dame, nodding in agreement. "Still, could you imagine my shock when Eutropia handed you that blade? I had merely thought it a legend!"
Argos looks up as the Chelaxian Ambassador approaches, looking incredulously at his proposal with an obvious amount of shock. "W-what...what a preposterous proposal. Even were concerns of your nationality already enough cause to balk at such a proposal, accepting such 'help' from priests of Asmodeus would be not only morally abhorrent but reasonably shortsighted." As Argos spoke he found his words growing hotter, his hand clenching the chair.
"I imagine that would please your patron to no end to see Taldor burning the lands of Sarenrae worshipers down. Why, he might even approve of Chelaxian aid with no strings attached..." Argos finished, not even bothering to hide his glare as he rather overtly accused the Ambassador of having ulterior motives.
"Easy, Sir Argos. You're forgetting what the reaction would be if we let a battalion of Chelaxian soldiers march along the entire length of the Empire."
"Better we not see this war within our lifetimes, when the cost of the campaigns alone would be greater than any spoils. Give our enemies no reason to invade us, and spend another century building up strength through... hmm... superior cultural values or somesuch."
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Valignatir is unfazed by the response to his suggestion, understanding their attitudes.
"Ah, well. That is the usual response to our offer for aid. In fact, our nation has reached out, again and again, only to be rebuffed. "
"But our nation and patron protect its own. Those 'despicable' Hellknights patrol our borders, keeping our enemies out. The justices keep order in our city, reducing crime and increasing safety. Our Lord himself created the cage that contains the Rough Beast, holding him at bay. With Taldor, who can say the same? What protects Taldor's borders?"
At this point, Val appears very emotional, despite his calm demeanor earlier, very likely from the mix of alcohol and his offer to help Taldor being so vehemently shut down.
"Your admittedly underfunded military? Your outclassed peasants, playing at soldier? Is it your lauded morals or your superior cultural values? Qadira cares little about either. No, Taldor is vulnerable, and Qadira aims to take advantage of that."
"Cheliax does not intend to sit by idly while your rotten, stagnant nobility does nothing but surrender their land and treasures, the ones that Old Taldor amassed, allowing the empire to the south to become far more powerful. It does not intend to wait as your empire, if you can call it that, succumb to your decades-long corruption, and allow your enemy to sweep across your lands, burning your lands. There will be no burning of Cheliaxian lands, not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever."
Our Lord himself created the cage that contains the Rough Beast, holding him at bay. With Taldor, who can say the same?
"Oh,"' Lord Rook replies, smiling, "I didn't realize you worshipped Sarenrae over in Cheliax." And with a thought, "Though that's not likely to go over much better here."
"Taldor is built on far richer land than Cheliax... even with our Empire in its present state, we have more wealth, more people, and more territory." [ooc](Like, actually, I just checked and was surprised) 'What we lack, that Cheliax has, is determination to do anything in particular, and maybe half a dozen allies and slave states. Taldor's borders are protected by wealthy, paranoid lords, convinced that an invasion on their land would strip them of their titles, who therefore raise great armies and fortifications, all but including signs pointing to their neighbors saying 'invade him instead.'"
"Perhaps you would find Chelaxian aid would not be met with such cold indifference were it not contingent upon taking Hell's hand?" Argos asked with a grimace. "The nobility of Taldor may not be righteous, but even it balks at such proposition. A Devil's aid always has a price. If one wishes to find safety in lawfulness, there are many other gods more worthy of appeal - Abadar, Torag, even Iomedae."
"You speak of Taldor's Army playing soldier, please then explain what the vaunted Chelaxian military was doing when Galt and Andoran so easily seceded from your Empire a few decades ago? Unlike Taldor you don't have the excuse of fighting a two front war. And you boast of Hell's protection, but how much of Isger burned down ten years ago during the Goblinblood Wars? As I recall your Hellknights needed the help of the Eagle Knights and you still managed to barely succeed, at great cost." Argos made it clear he wasn't impressed with Valignatir's claims.
Nev smiles as Gabrielle and Kyra come to congratulate her, holding the sword rather delicately in one hand. "Gabrielle, thank you! I will likely wear it on occasion, but I do hope that I'm not frequently involved in duels." Nev never really understood the desire to fight in deuls, much preferring the gritty danger of true battle. She looks at Kyra with confusion, eyebrows knit together. "Legend? It is a fine blade, surely, but what about legends?" She says as she gently pulls the blade from the scabbard, leaving it partially sheathed as she inspects the metal.
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"If you'll remember, Lord Rook, it was Asmodeus who forged the cage that actually contains the Beast. Not that it matters much."
"And you mean to say that your borders are guarded by isolated fortresses governed by nobles whose main strategy is to aim the invasion force at yet another spot in the 'unbreakable line'? It has stood so far, but how much longer before the forces of Qadira march across the divided nobles that form the defense?"
Valignatir listens to Sir Argos' reply, and then answers his challenges.
"Well, Sir Argos, all I have to say on the subject of devils, as you know I am a supporter of such practices, is that when Aroden, the former patron of pre-Thrune Cheliax, died, did any of those lawful deities come to our aid? I think not."
"As to the various rebellions, do not forget what is currently occurring in Galt. I think that none of us here would easily show their faces in the courts of that nation. As for Andoran, they used the distraction of Sargava and our exploits against the pirates there and their ally in Galt to take their 'freedom'."
"Might I remind you, Sir, that in the Goblinblood War, it was not our knights needing their help, but instead them working together? If the agents of my nation can work hand in hand with the Eagle Knights to defeat such a threat to the Inner Sea. As to the burning of the forests, it was the defending forces that burned the forests down afterward, depriving the goblinoids from returning to their fortress homes."
"And also, as to the numerous orphans created by the hobgoblin onslaught? Who has stepped up to the challenge, creating orphanages to support these poor orphaned children? The church of Asmodeus, of course. Part of my training was spent in the orphanage monasteries my faith created in the aftermath."
"Asmodeus forged the chains; Sarenrae dug the pit. But perhaps they teach these things differently where you were raised. And Qadira has no more interest in invading us than we do in them; the last war ended badly for both sides."
"And I believe the rebellion in Andoran had less to do with politics, and more to do with House Thrune forcing a sudden shift to Asmodean worship and laws down their unsuspecting throats."
"But I am unsure if heavy politics is supposed to be the theme of this sort of discussion—although, granted, you're new to our ways. Usually, an invasion of Qadira is discussed most eagerly by over-eager rich men who have never seen war in their life, someone negotiates a ruthless trade contract, and everyone goes home drunk, forgetting what they talked about entirely by the next morning."